August 21, 1991
It was a breezy summer morning in Ottery St. Catchpole. Arthur, Molly, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny Weasley were having a hearty breakfast at the Burrow. All hands on the Weasleys' grandfather clock, except for Bill's, were on "Home," though not for long, it seemed, for just when the family had finished second helpings of bread and jam, Arthur stood up.
"Got work to do at the Ministry. See you, everyone," he told his wife and children as he kissed them goodbye one by one, "and take care. Molly, dear, I don't think I'll be back for lunch."
"Why not?" Molly asked his husband with a devilishly curious look. "Are you going to play with your plugs with Perkins?"
"No, why would you think that?" Arthur said with a hurt look.
"Well what are you going to do?"
"Well," Arthur answered, "I got a call from Perkins last night. It seems that old Mundungus Fletcher has dropped a few stolen cauldrons on his broomstick. Potions fell on a seven-year-old Muggle boy, and—well, you can guess. Shrunken right leg, three slimy tentacles coming out from the top of his head, and—his face is a nasty shade of purple. And if things aren't enough, that toad Skeeter wrote as much nonsense in the Evening Prophet last night as she could. Just heat me up some of the onion soup around five or six o'clock if you can. Love you, pumpkin!" And with a kiss on Molly's forehead, he Apparated to the Ministry of Magic.
Molly heaved a sigh as the longest hand on the clock, with the word Arthur written on it, turned to "Work" along with Bill, while the others stayed at "Home".
"Come on, everyone," she said. "We'll go to Diagon Alley and buy school stuff. Everyone get your school lists. George, go get the Floo pot."
George went to the kitchen and came back with a pot with less than an inch of grey-green powder at the bottom as Molly lit up the fireplace.
"Percy, remind me to buy Floo powder. George, you first," Molly told George, nodding toward the Floo pot.
"Diagon Alley!" shouted George, loudly and clearly through a mouthful of ash after putting the powder in and walking into the now tall, green flames. The same thing happened for Fred, Molly, Ginny, Ron, Percy, and Charlie, and soon, all of them were at the fireplace in Flourish and Blotts, brushing soot off their faces and, in the case of young Ron and Ginny who weren't very much used to Floo Powder, pulling themselves up.
"Okay, everyone," announced Molly, walking through rows and rows of books. "We'll first go to Gringotts and get our money."
And so they all went to Gringotts and, escorted by three Goblins called Gagnuk, Ragnuk, and Garrick, they went to Vault 128 on three seperate carts. Once there, Molly scooped up everything in the vault (nine Galleons and a couple handfuls of Sickles among a bagful of Knuts, with some help from Percy, and the family then went back on the cart journey. They exited the bank, Charlie holding their moneybag.
"Okay now," said Molly, like a general commandeering his army, "we'll separate so that we can do our shopping faster. Ron—"
"Ickle Ronniekins," said Fred.
"Shut up, George," said Molly.
"Mum," said Fred with an exasperated look on his face, "if I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times. My full name is clearly enough Fred Gideon Weasley, not George Fabian Weasley. Can't you FEEL it?"
"Sorry, Fred," said Molly. "You could just wear different clothes—"
"NO, Mum," said George. "First, we don't like that, and second, you'll still say I'm Fred; didn't we try that last year? Now, here's an idea. You ALWAYS seem to make a mistake about our names, so whoever you think we are, just say the other, okay?"
"Got it," said Molly, a smile twinkling in her shiny brown eyes. "Now, no more interruptions. As I said, Ron and I will buy everything on Ron's list, except for the schoolbooks, which will be down to George, Fred, and Ginny. Charlie—"
"Dragon-Lover Charles, don't you mean? Whose mother still doesn't believe that he's going to leave to Romania to study dragons tonight." said George.
"—here's some money." Molly ignored the twins, a tear twinkling on her eyelashes. "You go down to Slug & Jiggers and buy some crocodile hearts for Fred and George—"
"Handsome Gred and Forge," said George proudly.
—"and half a pound of rat spleen for Percy."
"You mean Percy the Perfectly Perfect Prefect, right?" said Fred. "Say that ten times fast, George."
"Percy the Prefect-ly Perfect Pre—" began George.
"Shut up, George," said Molly sternly.
"Proudest moment of my life," said George, with a solemn expression. "I think I am right in saying that this is the first time you call me George ever since I broke Percy's glasses without Fred being with me."
"I wasn't talking to you, then," said Molly, almost bursting with laughter.
"Dammit!"
"Percy—here's money for you. Wiseacre's—eight ounces of Floo powder and some potions to kill our Chizpurfles. Those Chizpurfles have been ruining three of my cauldrons, and they almost destroyed Arthur's wand. Fred, George, and Ginny—here's everyone's list of schoolbooks and Ron's books section of his list and some money. We will meet in an hour at Madam Malkin's, Secondhand Section, to buy your new robes. And," she added, glaring fiercely at Fred and George, "woe betide you two if I hear that you have took A SINGLE STEP down Knockturn Alley, did you or did you not hear me?"
"Don't worry," said George. "Dear I-Want-To-Go-To-Hogwarts-Now Ginevra will keep an eye on us."
"But can we please go to Gambol and Japes after we buy the schoolbooks?" pleaded Fred.
"Well, all right," said Molly. "But no dangerous—stuff, and you can only use your own savings."
"Hey Fred," shouted Ron, "don't forget to buy me a dozen Chocolate Frogs and a bag of Every Flavor Beans. Here's my money."
"Okay Ron, we got you," said Fred.
"Don't worry, Mum," said George happily. "We've got two Galleons, thirteen Sickles, and s—"
"Move," said Molly.
The children scattered away, going into shops Molly had told them to go to, leaving Molly with Ron.
"What's first on your list, Ron, dear?" Molly asked Ron.
"My uniform," said Ron. "Three sets of plain—"
"Apart from uniform and schoolbooks, I mean. We're going to buy uniform at Madam Malkin's later and Fred and George will buy your books from Flourish and Blotts."
"A wand," said Ron excitedly. "C'mon, I hope I'll get—"
"You can get Charlie's," said Molly absentmindedly.
"WHAT?" shouted Ron, bewildered. "But what about Charlie?"
"I'm sure he'll buy himself a new wand once he starts working in Romania."
"But what if we do this, Charlie buys me a new wand and keeps—"
"No," said Molly sternly, as if closing the argument. "Money doesn't grow on trees, and a wand from Ollivanders costs seven Galleons. We don't have much."
"Money probably does grow on trees," said Ron grumpily. "Only they're too high for you to reach."
"Stop being silly," said Molly sternly. "What's next?"
"Pewter cauldron, standard size two."
So Molly and Ron went to Potage's Cauldron Shop. They went inside and found themselves in a large three-story shop with circular floors, with the walls covered with cauldrons of every kind. In the first floor there were the most expensive cauldrons in the shop, made of silver, bronze, and marble, some with handles encrusted with jewels. Ron would give almost anything to own one cauldron like that, but all cost at least fifty Galleons and none were allowed for Hogwarts. On the second floor, there were steel, pewter, iron, and brass cauldrons of all sizes and shapes. Ron saw many Hogwarts students buying their cauldrons on this floor. Even those would make Ron very happy...
Molly led Ron up to the third floor and chose the least expensive pewter cauldron size two he could find, one with an extremely rusty and greasy handle and several burn marks, but Molly said that the important thing was that it could be used. Ron was still grateful it at least wasn't a hand-me-down from Charlie.
"What's next?" asked Molly, as they descended down the stairs after Molly gave the shop owner less than two Galleons and took the cauldron.
"Set of glass or crystal phials," said Ron, reading the list as they got out.
"You can take Arthur's old phials. What next?"
"Telescope and then brass scales."
"Telescope from Charlie, it's only a bit bent and has a crack down the lens, otherwise it's okay, though Peeves the Poltergeist broke Charlie's scales. Charlie says he threw them down all the way from the fifth floor, so we have to buy you a new one."
So Molly and Ron went to Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment, where they found Percy choosing which Chizpurfle-Repelling Potion to buy with some aid from the shop owner, a cheerful, rich-looking young man with dark hair, dragon hide jackets and boots, and a pleasant smile. Ron got his scales, as usual, secondhand, but at least they weren't hand-me-downs, and they weren't really bad; their only damage was some rust.
"Hey Mum," said Ron, "shouldn't we be at Madam Malkin's now? It's almost twelve thirty."
"Oh, well then," said Molly. "Wait, I almost forgot to buy Percy an owl!"
"What about me, aren't I human?"
"Don't be silly, Ron, Percy is a prefect now, and I promised him a present just yesterday."
"Wish I could get presents for being a boring nerdy loser," muttered Ron under his breath.
"I heard that," said Molly.
Molly and Ron later went to Madam Malkin's to meet with the others. There already was Percy, leaning on a marble pillar with his nose in a book titled Guide to a Good Prefect by Timothy Hilliard, a small nylon bag containing a phial of a greenish potion called "Chizpurfle Killer: Effective After Seven Hours of Use" and a small pot filled with Floo powder. There also was Charlie, sitting on the floor holding a plastic bag with the words "Slug & Jiggers: Two Families of Potion Ingredient Traders Since 1786" on it in bloodred writing.
Percy was now staring rather intensely at a pretty teenage girl on the street, his Hogwarts crush, drooling as he dropped his bags. A few minutes later, Fred, George, and Ginny came last, with their flaming red hair barely visible over stacks of half a dozen heavy schoolbooks they were each holding and a bag of Dr. Filibuster's No-Heat Wet-Start Fireworks and some other joke goodies on top of Fred and George's stacks.
Fred, George, and Ginny tried to stack the books down carefully, but Fred tripped over a banana peel, knocking over George, both of whose books fell out of their hands. Ginny tried to run away from the chain but she was hit hard on the head by a copy of Standard Book of Spells: Grade Three. Books flew everywhere, and Madam Malkin rushed out the shop to help.
"Oh dear!" shouted Madam Malkin and Molly as Fred and George's Filibuster Fireworks went off and made a brilliant show. People stared.
Percy didn't seem to notice the pandemonium. He was now on the street, talking with the girl, who gave him a small kiss on the cheek. His chin was as wet as ever with drool, and suddenly he was hit in the butt by A History of Magic. Upon seeing George smirking at him, he blushed angrily and threw the book back.
"Penelope's hot, ain't she?" George muttered to Percy with a smirk, out of his mother's earshot.
Charlie stood up, walked past everyone. He saved George barely from A History of Magic as Percy through it at him, casually flicked his wand on the fallen books, muttered an incantation, and the books lifted up with surprising ease. He set each book with its owner, and the books were stacked neatly in front of Percy, Fred, George, and Ron. He also flicked his wand at the Fireworks, and they stopped in midair and fell down. All the people clapped and whistled at Charlie's astonishing move.
"Whoa," said Fred, astonished. "Thanks, Charles. Half the Fireworks were wasted, but it was totally worth it."
"Don't mention it," said Charlie modestly. "That's what Dragon-Lover Charles is good at, apart from being a dragon keeper, I mean."
"Oh, wait," said George, searching in his pockets. "Here's your Chocolate Frogs, Ronnie. And I think we should call you Spellbook-Saver Charles instead of Dragon-Lover Charles," said George. "But Charlie, you should've seen Percy, he actually snog—"
"Let's go inside, shall we?" said Molly. "Oh, and Charlie, dear, would you mind giving your little brother your telescope and wand now that you've graduated and don't need them anymore?"
"Wand?" asked Charlie, as though Molly had just ordered him to give her his right arm, but his expression changed quickly. "Well, all right, it was old anyway. I'll buy myself a new one soon as I get the money from work in Romania next week."
"Oh, never mind me," Ron grumbled silently to himself. "I'm sure I can manage."
The family went to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, in a far, empty corner called the Secondhand Section, where secondhand robes were sold. Molly, as usual, started with Percy, the oldest child to be at Hogwarts, so that, as predicted, there were only two Galleons left with Ron.
"I don't know what to do," said Molly, sitting down on a chair to think. "We only have two Galleons and seven Sickles left, and these robes are one Galleon and twelve Sickles, though they're a tiny bit too short. And these are the best size for Ron, though these are for two Galleons and twenty-seven Knuts, which wouldn't leave enough for the hat and gloves and other uniform. I'll probably get Percy's first year ones. They're only four years old."
"Yeah," said Ron sarcastically. "And that's just a few minutes if you're Dumbledore."
"Sorry Ron," said Fred. "Bad luck."
"The younger you are in the family, the more secondhand rubbish you've got to own," snarled Ron angrily, kicking his tatty books.
Ginny looked close to tears when she heard this; after all, she was the youngest in the family. After the rest of Ron's uniform was finally bought, the family started to walk out, and an idea struck Ron.
"Mum," he said.
"What, Ron, dear?" asked Molly rather absentmindedly.
"What 'bout a pet?" said Ron. "Can I get an owl please? Pretty please with an enormous slab of the best Honeydukes choc—?"
"What if I give you Scabbers?"
"Wish Errol would've eaten him so I'd get a more decent pet instead of him," said Ron, his expression back where it was. "Anyway, an early happy birthday to you, Mum; it's on the thirtieth of October, and since I don't have an owl to send you a card I better—"
"Shut up, Ron," said Percy. "Do as Mother says and keep quiet."
"No one asked your opinion, nosy Percy the Perfectly Perfect Pet—I mean Prefect," snarled Ron angrily.
"Come on, Ron," said Fred, as George roared with laughter at Ron getting Percy's nickname wrong. "Cheer up. I think you'll enjoy Scabbers. He may not be as perfectly perfect a pet as Percy is, but you will enjoy him."
"ENJOY?" asked Ron, knocking on Fred's brain with his knuckles as though Fred. "Hello?How can I enjoy a brown old boring rat who sleeps twenty hours a day?"
"What's your favorite color?" asked George.
"WHAT?"
"Do you have hearing problems?" said Fred. "Answer us."
"Yellow. Or anything but maroon. But that's not the point, id—"
"Now," George leaned closer to Ron and led him out of earshot of Molly. "Listen carefully. I'm going to give you a spell to turn old Scabbers yellow. The incantation—Fred, if you please."
"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow," said Fred.
"Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow," finished George.
"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow. Turn this stupid fat rat yellow. Are you sure it'll work? Or is this another of your old jokes like saying getting Sorted is painful or—"
"No, it isn't, dungbrains," said Fred. "And the getting Sorted is painful, it's real, no joke. I was shaking for an hour after they did it to me."
"Did what to you?"
Fred faked a wince. "It's so painful I simply can't tell you. Okay now, trust your big brothers, and old Scabbers'll be yellow as a banana in no time at all once you try it out."
