Hello again! You didn't think I'd be gone long did you? You should know me better than that by now! Although technically I didn't leave I just haven't updated in a bit. (Yes I am perfectly aware I still haven't updated Together Forever but rest assured I'm 2000 words into it so it shouldn't be long.)

Anyway, here's the sequel to The Seven Ways I Cry, which seemed to go down quite well, hence this sequel. If you could let me know what you think it would, as ever, be much appreciated!

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise I don't own, anything you don't I do!

Chapter 1 – Laughing at his misfortune

I was stood in the back yard at the Burrow watching my four-year-old son stare in awe at the toy broomstick that lay on the floor in front of him. He had just ripped the wrapping off it and was looking over every inch of it, taking in every line in the wood, every letter in the inscription at the end of the handle, and every bend in every twig in the tail.

He had turned four at quarter past twelve this morning, the morning of the seventh of November.

…oooOOOooo…

I had put him to bed at half past seven last night, but at fourteen minutes past twelve this morning my bedroom door was pushed open an inch and his small hand wrapped itself around the door. I was reading The Evening Prophet, (a new edition of the paper 'for late night news') and saw the door open out of the corner of my eye. I tried to keep my face straight and pretend I hadn't noticed him. His bright red hair poked through the gap and then half of his face became visible.

As soon as he saw I was still awake he disappeared and I heard him kneel down on the floor. He pushed the door open a bit further and managed to squeeze himself through the very small gap. He shuffled on his elbows and knees up the side of my bed.

I turned the page of the paper over and glanced at the smug grin the wizard being interviewed was giving anyone who was watching. They call this news?

On hearing me move, the master of stealth had stopped dead still. I glanced over at my alarm clock and saw the time was now quarter past twelve.

'Joshua Ronald Weasley if it wasn't your birthday you would be in serious trouble right now! You should be in bed!' I tried to keep a straight face but I couldn't, the tone of my voice gave my smile away.

I put the paper down and waited for Josh to make an appearance. His messy red hair came up above the edge of the quilt, followed by his brown eyes. I could tell by the shape of them that he was grinning broadly.

'But mum, it's quarter past twelve.'

'Exactly! You should have been asleep hours ago!'

Josh climbed on the bed next to me and snuggled himself under my arm.

'How long is it 'til we get to go and see Grandma and Granddad Granger, and Grandma and Granddad Weasley?'

Both my mum and dad and Arthur and Molly had refused to be known as 'Nana and Pop' to my son, and apparently 'Granny and Grandpa' sounded too old too, so they were both known as Grandma and Granddad, which was fine when they weren't all in the same room, but made events like Josh's birthday party this evening very confusing.

'Josh, you have to go to school in the morning, then there's another five whole hours before we go to the Burrow for your party.'

'But I don't want to wait that long!' Josh whined.

'Well, if you were asleep there would be less hours for you to wait through wouldn't there?'

Josh looked down at his pyjamas; they clashed brilliantly with his hair, but that was because they were Chudley Cannon pyjamas. They were his favourite ones where the interlinked Cs moved around, chasing after various snitches and quaffles and moving quickly away from the bludgers.

'I'm not tired mum! I'm ex…exci…excited!'

I'm quietly impressed by my son's correct use of a word he has only just learned. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't unbelievably proud of how quickly he learns new things. I think I actually glowed with pride when his teacher in the nursery he goes to, told me she had never seen a three-year-old with better speech, writing or reading skills. Apparently Ron got his other wish, our son was turning into a bookworm.

'I know you are my darling, but if you don't get some sleep then you'll fall asleep during your party and you don't want that, do you?'

Josh went to answer but he yawned. After a second I took his hand and put it across his mouth, a good manner I am adamant he learns, but one he continually forgets, apparently he inherited that from his father.

'If I let you stay in here for a few minutes will you promise to go to sleep when you go back in your room?'

I am far too soft on this child!

Josh nodded and grinned at me.

Once he had settled himself under the covers he stayed awake for all of five minutes.

When I woke him up seven and a half hours later he was bouncing around his room and it took me five minutes to get him into the bathroom to clean his teeth.

I was told he had been the same at nursery and he was the same at home with me in the afternoon. When it was finally time to leave for the Burrow I had to practically wrestle him into the fireplace so I could floo us there.

…oooOOOooo…

All six of his uncles were stood around him, watching him look at his Nimbus J-770, the latest in toy broomsticks. Charlie and Harry were sat on the ground next to him, almost as excited as the four-year-old between them.

Over the next ten minutes they taught him how to mount it and find his balance. I had to laugh after he slipped off the side of it on his first attempt. He wasn't hurt; it was barely six inches off the ground but a familiar frown and look of determination was set in his face as he swung his leg back over it and tried again. I silently prayed I hadn't passed on my skills on a broomstick, but after a few more minutes of him just sitting on the narrow broom handle and finding his balance, it became apparent he had inherited his father's broom handling skills.

His newfound confidence was lost, however, when it came to actually flying the thing. I say flying, it was a toy after all and it only went a couple of feet in the air, but apparently Josh thought he could push it to it's maximum speed and still keep a tight hold at his first attempt. He couldn't, and when the broom shot forward, he didn't, he rolled over the back of it and landed into his Uncle Charlie's outstretched arms.

Harry ran after the broom and managed to catch up with it. After seeing her brother's and husband's attempts to keep her nephew on the toy broom, Ginny insisted she try and help him too. She handed me Lauren, her and Harry's thirteen-month-old daughter and went to add her voice to the advice being thrown at my son.

After another hour of practicing with all of his uncles and his aunt, Josh was zooming around the yard with perfect balance. He had the biggest grin on his face, and I knew it would be a struggle to get him off the damn thing later on, and he would probably want to sleep next to it too.

I was sat watching him and he hovered over to me.

'Look mummy, I can fly!'

'Yes you can! Do you like your present then?'

'Yeah!'

He looked up at me and then back down at his broom. He lowered it so the tail was almost touching the ground and dismounted it. He wobbled dangerously, so I steadied him whilst he found his balance. Apparently, dismounting the broom had been skimmed over by his oh-so-experienced teachers. He turned towards me and put his arms up, showing me he wanted a hug.

'Thanks mummy. This is the best present in the world!'

I picked him up and spun him round so he shrieked and laughed loudly. When I thought I'd better stop before I lost my balance I pulled him towards me and hugged him.

'You're welcome my darling, just be careful on it.'

'I will be.'

I set him down on the floor and he picked up the broom in his hand and propped it on his shoulder. I laughed at the pose he had taken; he looked so like Ron it was uncanny. We started walking towards the Burrow for the birthday tea.

'Mum?'

'Yes, Josh.'

'Will you tell me about Daddy's first game for Gryffindor?'

I smiled, trying not to laugh at the memories of Ron's first and frankly disastrous game for his school team. 'Of course I will Josh, although I think I should wait 'til we get inside, Uncle Harry and Aunty Ginny will be able to tell you things about the match too.'

'Cool!'

At this I laughed out loud, that word was George's doing and he was so proud of the fact.

Before we walked through the kitchen door, Josh mounted his broom again. I didn't really want him flying round the house but before I had the chance to say anything he had leant forward and the broom had shot out of his grip. As he landed in a heap on the floor he scowled and his ears turned pink out of embarrassment. He looked up at me and I couldn't help but smile and laugh a little.

This was the first way I smiled – Laughing at his Misfortune.