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Chappie Numero Uno

By RudolphTheRedNosedPuffin

Puffins Rock

Disclaimer: sighs Must we do this every time? Oh well, just for the first chappie then. I do not own Harry Potter, the wizarding world, or anything else along the lines. They belong firmly under the name of J. K. Rowling. Too bad. I could have been sitting in a comfortable chair right if I had written the Parry Hotters. Wait. Off-subject. Back to the story.

Ron woke up, noticing the sunlight streaming through the window. Crap! He was going to be late! Again. He shoved on his robes and bounded down the stairs four at a time. When he got to the bottom, he nearly ran Hermione over. He felt his face growing red as he faced her.

"What's the hurry?" she asked.

"I'm late for Transfiguration!" He stopped and frowned. "And so are you!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Ron, today's Saturday. We had Transfiguration yesterday morning." Ron felt his ears turning scarlet.

"I- er- I knew that, I just, er-" Ron fell silent. Hermione was looking pityingly at him. Ron cringed inwardly, hoping he didn't look too stupid. She walked past him and up the staircase, to the sixth year girls' dormitory. Ron's shoulders sagged. He was a total idiot. He walked sulkily over to Harry, who was examining the Gryffindor bulletin board.

"What do you think?" Ron was jolted out of his reverie.

"What?" Ron tried to focus. Harry was pointing to a sign. Ron squinted at it and read,

YOU COULD WIN 100 GALLEONS!

Ron was immediately interested. He read on.

THAT'S RIGHT! THIS SUNDAY, AT THE THREE BROOMSTICKS, HOGSMEADE, THE 455 ANNUAL SPELL-MAKING CONTEST WILL BE HELD. STARTING AT NOON, WHOEVER MAKES THE FIRST BRAND-NEW SPELL WILL WIN A HUNDRED GALLEONS! Note that spells must be undiscovered, and that is anyone who uses a spell that is already discovered will be disqualified. Dangerous spell casters will be fined.

"So, what do you think?"

Ron grinned, all thoughts of Hermione gone. "I'm trying it! How 'bout you?"

"Nah, Ginny and I are spending the day together."

Inwardly, Ron winced. He didn't know why he hated the idea of Harry and Ginny together so much.

All day Ron thought about the contest. A hundred galleons was a lot. And a lot of galleons could impress a lot of people. Harry was walking proof of that, as well as Fred and George. If he could just win...well, things might look up from there.

The next day, Ron was up at five. Just seven more hours, he thought. He lay in his bed until breakfast, thinking of different incantations he could try. Better prepare now, for he was sure to fall to pieces as soon as the competition started.

At breakfast, he was too nervous to notice Hermione muttering different combinations of words under her breath. Finally, Professor McGonagall called for everyone going to Hogsmeade. Ron instantly went numb. The contest was in two hours. Why they have to make it so late in the day is beyond me, thought Ron as he walked down the long path to Hogsmeade. But inside he was panicking. In two hours he would be in the contest! And possibly 100 galleons richer! Harry was with Ginny somewhere, so it was just him and Hermione. Both were silent with their thoughts. Both turned left and walked into the Three Broomsticks at the same time and sat down at a long, white table marked 455th Spell Making Contest. Ron looked at Hermione, perplexed.

"What are you doing here?" Even as he looked at her, he felt his ears turning pink. His insides squirmed when she looked at him.

"I'm here for the contest!"

"Oh, right."

Four butterbeers and a slice of blueberry pie later, the contestants were called. Nervously, Ron sat down next to Hermione. A judge sat in front of them. Sixteen other people were there. Opposite every other person sat a judge, all of whom were looking at their kids intently. Ron and Hermione's judge was a man who looked like he'd rather be punching someone than judging a contest. Ron gulped. Why couldn't they have Dean's judge, an old lady wearing a dress with huge pink flowers?

Nervously Ron looked into his reflection in the mirror behind him. He was really pale. The freckles scattered across his face stood out sharply. He gave a start when a door opened loudly.

Madame Rosmerta came out and stood on a little stool. Ron found himself staring at her. Hermione nudged him in the ribs, hard. Ron rubbed his chest. Hermione had really sharp elbows.

Madame Rosmerta cleared her throat. Ron looked up at her again, but this time kept a wary eye on Hermione.

"As you all know, my pub has been selected this year to host the 455th annual Spell Making Contest! Through this contest, useful spells such as Locomotor have been discovered. Now, it's your turn! From now until midnight, twelve hours in all, you will try to make a new spell. The winner will get 100 galleons and a year's worth of free butterbeers! Any questions?"

A blonde Hufflepuff girl in fifth year raised her hand. "But us Hogwarts students have to be back to the school by six!"

Madame Rosmerta smiled at her. "Not to worry! Professor Dumbledore has given all contestants permission to stay as long as needed! Oh, and refreshments will be provided. Everybody ready?"

All along the line, heads nodded. Madame Rosmerta nodded to each of the judges. Ron's insides went icy. How could he have been stupid enough to enter the contest? He was terrible under pressure. He was probably going to have a total meltdown...

"Well, then, go!"

It took Ron a moment to realize the competition had started. Embarrassed, he picked up his wand and gave it a flick, trying one of the words he had made up. "Drasecona!" Nothing happened. He felt his ears turn pink. He must look really stupid. He tried again.

"Klianto!"

"Shastemas! Hyreanti! Mamamisa! Itraeneo!"

Nothing. However many words he tried, nothing happened. Luckily, no one else was doing very well, either. Hermione was pink in the face as she tried yet another spell. Ron smiled. She looked pretty when she was frustrated. Unconsciously, he gave his wand a flick and said, " 'ermione!"

"What?" asked Hermione, irritated. Then she gasped.

"Ron! You're, you're..."

"What?" asked Ron, nonplussed.

"A girl!" whispered Hermione. She turned him to face the mirror behind them and Ron looked into it. There he was. A girl.