House: Gryffindor
Position: 7th year stand-in
Category: Themed
Prompt: 3 [First line] There was always a point at the (family name) reunions where things went from boring to fun.
Word Count: 2842 – not including header, author's note, and title.
Beta: Tigger
Paint By Numbers
There was always a point at the Weasley reunions where things went from boring to fun. And George was determined to make sure that happened, and quickly.
George watched from the shadows of his doorframe as his younger sister turned the doorknob of her childhood bedroom. He held his breath as the door creaked open. With a loud bang, a dung bomb showered her with stinky powder. Hermione shrieked and Ginny pivoted on her heels, her fiery red hair sprinkled with a dark grey soot and her eyes roaming the hallway before zeroing in on him. She sent him a glare, and he only laughed in response.
"Wasn't me," he said and shrugged.
Ron was loudly thudding up the stairs, his hands full with both his and Hermione's suitcases, before stopping on the landing and wrinkling his nose at the smell.
"Ginny, I thought you said you showered before you got here."
"Har Har," she responded before rounding on George again. "This means war!" She quickly spun around on her heels, entered her bedroom, and slammed the door.
"You sure you don't want to stay in my room now, Hermione?" he said with a wink. "It won't be smelly."
"You know your mother's rules, Ronald." She walked over to him, gave him a kiss on the cheek and then plucked her suitcase out of his hand. She took a deep breath, held it, and walked into the contaminated bedroom.
Molly was downstairs busying herself with dinner. She watched as each of her children—adopted and biological—apparated in front of the Burrow. It had been so long since they had all been together. Her once loud and noisy house was now empty as the children had all slowly moved out after the war.
Harry and Ginny had been the first to leave; they had moved into the Black's ancestral home that had been willed to Harry. They had fixed it up and made the home bright and loving, instead of the dark and dreary place it once was. Molly tried to visit them once a month, but with Ginny's training schedule for the Holyhead Harpies and Harry's important work in the Auror department, it was hard to find time to see them.
Ron had been the next to move out with Hermione. Hermione had never lived at the Burrow after the war; she had immediately rented a flat in London and asked Ron to move in sometime after. Hermione was so busy with her vital work at the Ministry of Magic that Molly felt she hadn't seen her in almost a year. She had seen Ron a little bit more frequently, but it had still been too long since she had seen her youngest son.
George had been the last to move out. He had struggled with the loss of Fred and finding his own identity after the war. It was only thanks to Angelina that he finally began to live life to the fullest. She would forever be grateful to that girl. He had moved into the apartment above the joke shop until Angelina and he had married, then they had bought a row home near Hermione and Ron's flat. Molly saw George and Angelina most frequently. She made a point to visit their home weekly now that Angelina was further along in her pregnancy and on strict bedrest. She smiled at the thought of her first grandson.
She heard a pop outside the window, muttered a quick spell under her breath. The spoons quickly jumped from her hand into the pot and began a clockwise stirring motion. She rushed to the door a big smile on her face. She greeted Percy and Audrey with a big hug before they pushed past her to the stairs. They were muttering about how they needed to get cleaned up and presentable before making their way to Percy's room together. Molly only ever allowed her children to share a room with their spouses once they were married.
She made her way back into the kitchen, the pots sizzling as the spoons continued to self-stir on the stove, her mind distracted as she wished her eldest sons, Charlie and Bill, were there too. Both were traveling for work on different continents; as such, it was impossible for either of them to attend. Her heart ached at the loss of their presence this weekend, but she understood; it seemed that their work was always getting in the way of her family plans.
She heard a shriek upstairs followed by laughter and smiled to herself, the familiar noises of a full home filling her ears.
Ginny was sitting on the bed, brushing her long ginger hair and half-heartedly muttering "Scourgify" every so often in the attempt to purge the smell. She yanked harder at her hair before throwing her hairbrush down on the bed in frustration.
"I am going to smell for weeks!" she complained wrinkling her nose. "What are we going to do?"
"Why am I included in on this?" Hermione asked distractedly.
"Because George's childish antics affect you too. You have to share this smelly room with me!"
She fell back on her bed, staring at the wooden planks on the ceiling. The minutes ticked by before she suddenly shot back up again.
"I got it! I have the perfect plan, Hermione, but I need your help!"
Hermione looked up from her book and rolled her eyes. "If I had a Galleon for every time I heard that phrase, I would be rich."
Ginny just shot her an evil grin.
Arthur was beaming at all of his children surrounding the table. He was happy to have everyone home for the weekend, but more importantly, he knew how happy it made his wife. The idle chatter filled his heart as he heard about their lives and their jobs. How had they all grown up so fast? He could still picture them as chubby-faced children, chasing each other around the table and flinging peas or gravy at each other. Their red faces puffy as they screamed at each other, fighting over silverware and spilling drinks on the tiled floor.
A small shriek pulled him out of his reverie. He looked up and saw Hermione in a puff of feathers transforming into a small, yellow canary. A constant string of shrill tweets filled the air as she flew over to George, perched on his shoulder, and pecked him continuously on the cheek. She then began to shed her feathers and slowly transform back into her usual form. The chair toppled over from the unbalanced distribution of weight and both Hermione and George were flown to the floor in a heap of laughter.
As they righted the chair and made their way back to their seats, Molly glared at George, her brown eyes piercing his.
"George," she hissed, "you promised no pranks this weekend!"
He put his hands up defensively. "That wasn't me, Mum; I solemnly swear it!"
Ron snickered at Hermione, which prompted her to slap him playfully on the shoulder.
"Ron!" Hermione giggled.
"Sorry, Hermione," he said with a snort "It was for Percy."
Percy looked at Ron upon hearing his name and scrunched his eyes at him. "How mature," he said dully before turning his attention back to his wife.
The Weasleys all trudged up the stairs, their footsteps heavy and exhausted, leaving muddy footsteps in their wake. It had started pouring in the middle of their pick up Quidditch match but they had continued to play for another hour, getting drenched in the process.
Harry and Ginny were holding hands as they followed the long line of adults upstairs, Harry groaning with each step he took.
"I'm getting old, Ginny. My body aches in places I forgot could ache." He sighed.
"You just haven't played Quidditch in a while, that's all." She tugged him further up the stairs before turning to face him. "I'll still love you even though you're an old man."
"Old man? Godric, Gin, I said I was getting old, not that I was! I'll show you old man!" he said as he chased her up the stairs, pinching at her bottom, while she shrieked and picked up the pace, shouldering her siblings out of the way.
Harry caught up with her on the second landing. He threw his arms around her waist before twirling them both around, her feet flying outwards, and planting kisses on top of her head. Ginny glowed as she smiled up at him before giving him a peck on the lips and wishing him a good night.
"Sleep well, Harry!" she said mischievously and continued up the stairs.
"Gin?" Harry called after her, "I don't like the sound of that, Gin!?"
Hermione brushed her way past him and gave him an equally evil smirk that paired nicely with Ginny's tone. He knew he was in for quite a night; those two together were dangerous.
Hermione and Ginny both heard the clock as it chimed out and echoed throughout the house. It was two in the morning and everyone should have been asleep; it was time to put their plan into action.
Both girls quietly crept out of the bedroom and made their way to the edge of the stairs. Ginny threw down an Extendable Ear and both girls huddled together to listen. They could hear the muffled snores of Ron and nothing but silence from George's room on the other side of the landing.
They silently made their way down the stairs, pausing and holding their breath with every creak they made in the old house. Finally making their way to the landing, they parted ways. Ginny entered the room Harry and Ron were sharing, whilst Hermione crossed the narrow landing to George's room.
Both girls woke up next morning to a loud string of curse words and immediately began to laugh. They heard the pounding of the footsteps as the boys ran up to their room and banged open the door.
All three boys entered in their pajamas. Their pants were soaked to the knees with muddy water and their faces were twisted in identical glares.
"Using my own tricks against me!" George muttered. "I've taught you well—too well."
"I don't know what you mean," Ginny said innocently. "What happened to you lot? You do know you were supposed to shower before bed, don't you? Or did you just fall asleep covered in mud?" Her eyes twinkled with laughter.
"What did I do to you?" Harry asked.
"Nothing, dear, you're just friends with Ronnikins; that's your only fault," Ginny responded.
Ron turned to Hermione and just raised a questioning eyebrow, she shrugged in response before avoiding his gaze, a small smile plastered on her lips.
"I know the workings of my own portable swamps, ladies," George said and huffed. "You can't play innocent with me."
He ran over to the bed Ginny was still laying on and pulled himself on top of it before beginning to bounce on the bed. His pants splattered mud with each thrust of his legs.
Ginny screeched at him. "Stop jumping on my bed; get off this instant!"
Harry and Ron both glanced at each other before following suit and making their way towards Hermione's bed.
"No, no, no!" she cried as they started to bounce on either side of her, throwing her to and fro on the bed. She kicked out at them laughing and made contact with a shin, forcing Ron to lose his balance and fall with a loud thud on the floor.
Harry kept jumping until Hermione also managed to make contact with his shin and sent him flying to the floor, sprawled out next to Ron.
She looked over and saw Ginny tackling George, her arms wrapped around his knees before they were flailing around on the floor. Limbs were flying as they wrestled each other.
"You need to stop your childish antics; you are going to be a father soon, you know!" she sputtered out between breaths as she wrestled him into a headlock.
"I know," George grunted. "That is why I have to get it out of my system now. Angelina won't like it if I play pranks on her while we have a newborn."
He flipped Ginny over and sat on her, while she flung her arms out trying to claw at him and dislodge the arms holding down her feet.
"It's going to be a long couple of months." George sighed.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched with amusement as they continued to fight against each other. Both sparring partners finally flopped on the floor out of breath and smiling at each other.
"You are going to be a great dad," Ginny said seriously.
"I hope so," George responded quietly.
They all caught their breath before Ginny kicked them out of the room so they could start to clean up the ridiculous mess that the boys had created.
"You think you have a mess to clean up," Ron huffed. "We've got a whole swamp in our rooms! There is at least two feet of muddy water!"
"Merlin, Ron! Stop being such a Moaning Myrtle and get to work already," Ginny said as she pushed him out of her room.
The house was quiet and peaceful that morning, each member of the family keeping to themselves and just enjoying each other's company.
Ron and Harry played chess while George and Percy sat around them talking. Hermione read a book by the fire and Ginny and Audrey flipped through fashion magazines and bickered about the latest celebrity gossip. Molly was knitting on the couch while Arthur sat next to her reading the newspaper.
The silence was suddenly broken by George falling out of his chair. He was vibrating slightly on the ground with a chocolate glowing in his hand. Once the shock wore off on the sweet, he dropped it to the ground and quickly rose to his feet.
"Good one, Ginny," he said brushing off his robes.
She looked at him with wide eyes, her eyebrows drawn together. "That wasn't me!"
George examined her before turning his probing gaze to the rest of the room. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinised each member of the room. His eyes finally turned to Percy in disbelief. His eyes took in the giant grin on Percy's face and his eyes narrowed further.
"I had to get at least one prank in before you become a father."
"Why, you little sneak!" George exclaimed.
He drew his wand out from his pocket and flicked it at Percy. A spot of bright yellow paint marred Percy's normally impeccable black robes.
Percy flew to his feet, drawing his own wand. "These were my favorite robes!"
Brown paint flew out of the tip of his wand and landed right on George's head, who retaliated immediately.
Soon a flurry of colors flew between the two boys. Hermione was ducking behind the armchair, her book hidden under the coffee table, trying to protect it from possibly getting ruined. The moment paint splattered the cover she stood up and aimed her wand at George, sending her own purple coloring to the mix.
Stray paint splattered the walls, couches, and other members of the family. Each member joined in the fight the moment they were touched with paint. Soon blue, green, and red joined the array of colors splattering the room. Arthur laughed and drew out his wand, aiming it at Ron.
"Arthur!" Molly shrieked as she held the onesie in front of her face, shielding herself from any stray paint.
"Aww, come on, Mollywobbles." He turned his wand on her. "Have. Some. Fun." He punctuated each word with a small burst of orange paint.
"Arthur Weasley!" Molly cried, sending pink paint his way. "You are cleaning this up!"
She laughed as she began to chase him around the room, her wand sending a constant stream of pink paint his way.
The fun was interrupted by a loud, shrill buzzing.
"Oh, Godric!" Molly cried as she glanced at her enchanted clock, her eyes going wide as a spoon started to move.
They were all gathered in the hospital room, each person looking like a palette of paint had vomited on them. The paint was still wet and dripping off their robes, splattering the clean, white tiles with a rainbow of colors.
George was pacing back and forth, his face pale against the bright colors. His eyes kept flickering to the doors, which creaked as they were flung open.
Angelina's wide eyes took in their appearances before she burst out laughing. She turned the bundle that was tucked into her chest to face the painted crowd.
"This is your family," she said, gesturing to the room, "and that is your father." She pointed to the pale man. "I am sure he has quite the story to tell you about how this all started, because I have no doubt that this is his fault. You two will be quite the pair, huh, little Fred?"