Summary: Mr. Weasley's first encounter with a Muggle airplane. Need I say more?
Rating: K
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"Molly, dear, look!" said Mr. Weasley enthusiastically.
Dumbledore had requested that Mr. Weasley go on a special mission for the Order of the Phoenix. Mr. Weasley was to investigate claims of Dark activity in a section of Northern California, commonly known as the Wine Country, also known as the Napa Valley. He would be living there as Muggle, and needless to say, he was very excited, for he loved everything about the Muggle way of life, from electricity, right down to the menial tasks Muggles did every day, such as cleaning up spilled milk with a towel. None of these things, however, compared to Mr. Weasley's excitement of finally getting to fly on an airplane.
The entire Weasley clan (with the exception of Percy), and Harry and Hermione, were all going to see Mr. Weasley off. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were in one car together, and the rest were in a magically enlarged SUV,
which was following Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
"I see it, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley, as the car the two were in drove towards Heathrow; an airplane had just passed by overhead, and Mr. Weasley was pointing up at it excitedly.
"Airplanes!" said Mr. Weasley. "Actual airplanes! Fascinating. You know," he continued, addressing the driver, "My dearest ambition is to find out how those Muggle contraptions stay up in the air."
The driver, who was an Auror and a Muggleborn, smiled and nodded politely.
"Have you ever been on one?"
"No, can't say that I have," the driver replied in a London Cockney accent.
"Fascinating," Mr. Weasley repeated to himself (referring, of course, to airplanes, and not the driver), "Absolutely fascinating."
"How much longer until we get there?" Mrs. Weasley asked, glancing at her husband.
"Five minutes," the driver replied.
"Five minutes?" said Mr. Weasley.
"Five minutes," repeated the driver.
"Excellent!" said Mr. Weasley. "I cannot tell you how much I have been looking forward to this!
For the second time, the driver smiled and nodded politely.
As the car approached Heathrow and drove past the different terminals, Mr. Weasley gazed through the windows excitedly, watching all the people rolling their suitcases along the sidewalk, or loading or unloading their luggage from various automobiles.
"Just look at them, Molly! Amazing what these Muggles can do without Magic! Simply amazing. Oh, look!" Mr. Weasley had just seen someone put money into a parking meter.
"Arthur, you really must contain your excitement," said Mrs. Weasley. "You don't want to make a spectacle of yourself. And you certainly don't want all those Muggles staring at us."
"Ah, of course," said Mr. Weasley. "You're absolutely right, Molly. Wouldn't want to make myself too conspicuous." He bit his lower lip. "I just can not wait to find out how those contraptions actually fly!"
"Well, you can ask someone who works at the airport," said Mrs. Weasley.
"Who, though?" asked Mr. Weasley. "There are so many people who actually work here."
"I would suggest the pilot," said the driver. "Or one of the flight attendants."
"Oh, okay," Mr. Weasley replied, grinning. "I'll do just that, then. Thanks!"
"Don't mention it," replied the driver.
Soon enough, the two cars pulled alongside the curb and stopped. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley got out of the car and waited on the curb while the driver got Mr. Weasley's luggage out of the trunk. There were two suitcases, one a bright orange color with moving pictures of various quidditch players, and the other, a dark blue.
"Oh, honestly, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley, noticing the bright orange suitcase. "I thought I said to look inconspicuous?" She flicked her wand, and the bright orange with moving quidditch players turned into a solid, dark green.
"Sorry, Molly," said Mr. Weasley humbly.
"What has Dad done now?"
While Mrs. Weasley had been berating her husband about the orange suitcase, the others had stepped out of the other car and approached.
"Nothing to worry about, Fred, dear," Mrs. Weasley replied.
"I'm not Fred, I'm George."
"No, I'm George. You are Fred."
"Oh, right," said Fred. "I forgot."
"Oh, you two," Mrs. Weasley began. Her muttering drifted off into silence as the driver closed the trunk of the car.
"We will wait here for you while Arthur checks in his luggage," said the driver, gesturing to himself and the other ministry driver.
"Right, thank you," said Mrs. Weasley.
She, Mr. Weasley, the rest of the Weasley clan (except Percy), and Harry and Hermione all headed inside. Mr. Weasley became a little overexcited when gazing around the check in area, and actually squealed in enthusiasm when he noticed a screen showing different flights and their destinations.
"If you carry on acting like you are, Dad, then the airport security might think you are up to something," said Bill.
"And they'll either thoroughly search you, question you, or arrest you," said Charlie.
"Don't scare your father with nonsense like that," said Mrs. Weasley. "They wouldn't do that to him."
"Actually, Mrs. Weasley, they would," said Hermione.
"They might think he is a tad strange, but I don't think... Arthur, do calm down!" Mrs. Weasley said sternly as Mr. Weasley continued to point out all the "amazing Muggle contraptions" enthusiastically.
"I can't help it," said Mr. Weasley. "I still cannot believe I'm actually going on an airplane!"
"Yes, Dad, we know that," said Ron.
"And right now, we can't be sidetracked," said Mrs. Weasley as though speaking to a toddler. "We must check in your luggage. Come on."
Mr. Weasley picked up his luggage, and checked it in at the counter. When he was asked to show his passport, Mr. Weasley, as excited as he was, fumbled around quite a bit, dropped the passport once or twice, and eventually handed it over, so that the man behind the counter could check it. The man looked at Mr. Weasley, who was trembling with excitement, warily.
"Here's your passport, sir," said the man in a Yorkshire accent.
"Thank you very much!" replied Mr. Weasley.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" spoke up the man behind the counter as the group moved away.
Mrs. Weasley turned toward him. "Yes?"
The man motioned for Mrs. Weasley to come closer, which she did, and whispered, "About your husband. Is he quite all right?" The man cleared his throat. "That is to say, I'm concerned with the way he was trembling, and I thought something might be wrong with him. I don't mean any offense, ma'am," he added hastily.
"No offense taken," Mrs. Weasley replied, smiling warmly. "It has just been his lifelong dream to go on an airplane," she said. "We haven't been able to afford anything like this anytime throughout our marriage, and when the chance came up, I just couldn't say no to my Arthur." She smiled.
The man smiled too, and nodded in understanding. Although, he still appeared slightly worried, whether for Mr. Weasley's sake or for everyone else who had to deal with him, was hard to say.
As soon as the man nodded, Mrs. Weasley smiled and joined her husband and the others. They were all crowded around Mr. Weasley, so Mrs. Weasley had to elbow her way through to reach him.
"Ouch!" said a voice. "Mum!"
"Oh, Ron, dear!" wailed Mrs. Weasley. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you all right, Ronniekins?"
Ron glowered at the twins as they sniggered.
"Oh Ronniekins, Mummy would like to give you a kiss," began Fred in a high pitched voice.
"A big, huge, wet one, Ronnie!" finished George in an identical high pitched voice.
"Fred, George, that is enough!" said Mrs. Weasley sharply.
Fred and George stared at their feet. "Sorry, Mum," they mumbled together.
"That's quite all right dears," Mrs. Weasley replied gently, ever the doting mother.
After much talking, Mrs. Weasley took a chance to glance at her watch and yelped. "Arthur! You've only got an hour until your flight leaves!"
So, the group hurried to the security area where Mr. Weasley had to go through the metal detectors. There was a teary good bye between Mr. and Mrs. Weasley before the former took his place in the long line waiting to pass through into the rest of the airport. While waiting, Mr. Weasley continued to joke around with his family and Harry and Hermione. That is, until a few of the other would-be passengers asked him, politely, to stop. Apparently, Mr. Weasley was so excited about flying on an airplane that he had been becoming more rambunctious by the minute.
So, it was a slightly embarrassed Mr. Weasley who said good bye to everyone at last, and set his carry on luggage on the conveyor belt. He walked through the metal detector nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet, and once he had reclaimed his carry on luggage, he made his way to the gate from where his plane would be taking off. The embarrassment faded as Mr. Weasley gazed around at all the hustle and bustle of the airport, and at the people as well. With the large grin on his face, a few stared, wondering if perhaps he was quite all right, but Mr. Weasley did not notice. He was too excited about his upcoming airplane rendezvous.
Mr. Weasley had arrived at the airport an hour and a half before the flight, and once he had finished rapturously gazing at the Muggle souvenir shops, he had only twenty minutes before his flight started the boarding process. So, after asking a few questions (and after scaring a few people away because of his eagerness), Mr. Weasley found the gate from which he would be departing.
It was now five minutes before the boarding began. Once it did, Mr. Weasley made a mad dash to the woman who would be checking everyone's ticket and passport.
"Excuse me. Sir?"
Mr. Weasley turned his attention to the pretty, blonde haired woman who spoke with a Manchester accent.
"Sir, your row has not been called yet. Please feel free to have a seat until it is."
"Oh, er... sorry," said Mr. Weasley, plainly embarrassed. And he did indeed take a seat in one of the leather coated chairs next to a mother and her five year old son. The mother exchanged a glance with Mr. Weasley, clearly saying that she had been in situation before, and knew how he felt.
Mr. Weasley began to grow impatient as the rows were being called off, and soon enough, only ten or so passengers for the flight to San Francisco remained. When his row was finally called, Mr. Weasley made yet another mad dash for the woman, and this time she smiled as she checked his ticket and passport. So, taking her nod for the go ahead, Mr. Weasley headed down the enclosed ramp, excitement bubbling, and entered the plane. He grinned at the flight attendant, who wished him a good flight.
Mr. Weasley would be sitting in the business class for the entire flight, so he headed toward the rearmost section of the airplane, and found where he would be sitting. After putting his carry on luggage in the overhead compartment, he took a seat next to a tall man with brown hair and a beard and mustache. Mr. Weasley thought the man looked like a Muggle science professor. The man was reading a science magazine, anyhow.
Sitting down comfortable in the aisle seat, Mr. Weasley began fiddling with his wand, which he had hid deep in a hidden pocket inside his jacket. If only he could place an Engorgio spell on the seat! It was much too small and uncomfortable, but Mr. Weasley knew he would have to deal with it, lest he gave himself away to all the Muggles on board. Plus, the Muggle flight attendants would think his wand was a weapon and most likely kick him off the plane, and that was something he, Mr. Weasley, certainly did not want. So, Mr. Weasley contented himself with fiddling his wand while the plan began backing away from the gate and while watching the flight attendants demonstrate how to buckle and tighten the seatbelts, as well as other general airplane safety.
Mr. Weasley grew ever more excited as the plane began to taxi down the runway; he gazed out the tiny window and watched as the scenery raced by. Upon feeling the plane speeding up more and more, however, Mr. Weasley began to grow somewhat frightened. He had never even been on a broom going this fast before, so what was he supposed to do now? He closed his eyes and gripped the arm rest, which for some odd reason seemed a little lower and closer to the chair than it had a moment previously. Once the plane leveled off, Mr. Weasley opened his eyes only to find, to his horror, that what he had been gripping was not an arm rest, but rather the knee of the man sitting next to him. Grinning weakly and very much wanting to recover from this awkward incident, Mr. Weasley threw caution to the winds and performed a memory charm on the man. Luckily, no one noticed this oddity, for which Mr. Weasley was grateful.
The rest of the airplane ride went by uneventfully. When the time came for lunch, Mr. Weasley bought a whole peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but was only able to eat half of it. He put the other half into what looked like a take-out bag, tucked ever so conveniently into the pouch in front of him. When the plane finally landed at its destination, Mr. Weasley got out of the plane quite quickly, take-out bag in hand. He thought it was weird that everyone was now avoiding him, some looking disgustedly at the take-out bag. As he was about to exit the plane, one of the flight attendants, a pretty, young blonde spoke to him.
"Excuse me, sir, but would you like for me to throw that out for you?" She reached for the take-out bag.
"Oh, no thank you," Mr. Weasley said cheerfully, swinging the bag around. A couple of flight attendants scooted quickly out of range. Weird, Mr. Weasley thought. He repeated his thanks, and added, "I'll just eat this on the way to my hotel."