If you are interested in stories with happy endings, you would be better off not reading this. Not only does this story have no happy ending, but is has no happy beginning, and few happy things in between. This is because not very many happy things happened in the lives of the three youngsters.

Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter were intelligent children and they were charming, and resourceful, and had pleasant facial features, but they were extremely unlucky, and most everything that happened to them was rife with misfortune, misery, and despair. I'm sorry, but that is how that story goes.

Their misfortune began one day at Briny Beach. The three youngsters, whose bond was so close they were as good as siblings, lived in huge mansions a stone-throw away from each other in the heart of a dirty, busy city, and occasionally, their parents allowed them to take a rickety cart to the seashore alone, as long as they were back by dinner.

Ron, the eldest, was sitting by the shore, skipping rocks. He was a tall, thin boy with wavy red hair. He was only a few months older than his two other companions. Ron was of a very strategic nature. He was good at planning and thinking, and was remarkably good at chess, which he liked to brag about because most fourteen year olds weren't as good. Ron also had several biological siblings- five older brothers and a little sister who enjoyed travelling around the world. His mother and father, however, were content with setting in their busy little city with their son, Ron, who was too close with his friends to leave. They welcomed their other children open arms whenever they came back from their travels. Ron had travelled with them a lot when he was young, so he knew much about different landscapes and several foreign countries.

Hermione, on the other hand, was a bit younger than Ron, though she was also fourteen. She had frizzy brown hair and soft, chocolate brown eyes. She was rather pretty, too, if one discounted her bushy forest for hair. If you knew Hermoine well, you'd know she was thinking right then and there, because her hair was sweeping across her face, and she was buried too deep in thoughts to mind. Hermione loved books and knowledge- generally everything she could get her hands on. She was a very clever girl, and not superstitious in the least- she didn't believe in horoscopes and such, you see. Mr and Mrs Granger, Hermione's parents, were also the city's best dentists, so perhaps we should refer to them as Dr, but that would confuse us as we wouldn't be aware of who the male and who the female would be.

The last person in their cheery trio, was the youngest, Harry Potter. He was a few months younger than both Ron and Hermione, which annoyed him to no end since his birthday was yet to come and he was still thirteen as it was. Harry was known for being stubborn, hot-headed, but also surprisingly observant. His green emeralds of eyes spotted things beneath his raven-toned bangs that no other normal person would have. If he had his glasses on, that was. Harry's own biological parents were murdered long ago by a psychopathic serial killer, whose identity none of the police couldn't figure out, when Harry was but an infant. However, two men by the names of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had raised him like their own son, and he had a relatively happy childhood with his friends. Black Mansion was right in the middle, with Ron and Hermione's homes on either side.

The beach was cloudy and the sky was dull, but the three friends weren't too bothered; because while Ron did enjoy sitting under the sun and gobbling down ice cream, Briny Beach was horribly crowded during good days, and the trio could barely find a place to set down their blankets and mats. But while dull and grey, the beach was vacant and the three had it all to themselves.

"Hey, Ron, you said Fred and George were coming tomorrow?" Harry asked mischievously. Fred and George, Ron's prankster twins, were Harry's favorite Weasleys after Ron himself….and maybe, not that he'd admit it, Ginny.

"That, or tomorrow." Ron assured his excited friends. "I think Bill's coming with them, too, but I heard he's a little too attached to Egypt now, he's even considering settling there with Fleur." Fleur was Bill's beautiful French girlfriend.

Harry found this information difficult to digest- he couldn't imagine the Weasleys settling down in place. He had managed to convince Sirius and Remus to allow him to go to Spain next with Fred and George. Remus had a hard time believing they were capable of taking care of Harry, but many weeks of puppy-dog eyes from Sirius (who was a born trouble-maker himself) and Harry paid off in the end.

"Well, you can't have honestly expected him to play around-the-world-in-eighty-days all his life, have you? He's bound to start a family now…"

Padfoot, Harry's large black dog, barked, as if agreeing to Hermion's statement.

Harry rolled his eyes and went back to scanning the horizon- his eyes narrowed as he saw a plump figure coated in mist, walking toward them. "Hey, who's that?" He asked, frowning slightly in concentration.

Ron and Hermione followed his eyes. The figure slowly made its way out of the fog- the three sighed in relief; it was only Mr Slughorn.

Mr Slughorn was a plump man in a green cloak that was almost swept off his shoulders as he walked down Briny Beach to the three children and the bewildered dog. He was their parents' teacher at school. He apparently taught chemistry, until he retired and started a career in finances.

"How'd you do, Mr Slughorn?" Hermione asked him politely, standing up and dusting sand off her skirt as Harry and Ron followed her example. Ron raised an awkward hand and grinned sheepishly.

"Fine, fine…" Mr Slughorn said sadly. He took out a napkin and sneezed into it while the three children stared at him in confusion, wondering why he was here. Mr Slughorn wasn't the kind to wander around a beach just for pleasure. Especially not on such a cloudy, chilly night. Mr Slughorn's immune system was so very weak, and he got sick rather easily.

"Er, bless you, sir." Harry said reluctantly and waited for Slughorn to stop sneezing.

"Oh, and to you, dears." He said even more miserably. The three exchanged a look- something was wrong….

"I'm afraid I have terrible news," he said. "Your guardians…have perished in a fire." He finished morbidly, waiting for a reaction.

"What?" Ron squeaked, eyes wide.

"Perished, means died." Slughorn said patiently.

"We know what 'perished' means!" Hermione said in frustration. "But surely, you don't mean…" She did, indeed, know what 'perished' meant, but she couldn't fathom or understand what Mr Slughorn was trying to say.

"Yes," he said, a glazed look taking over his face. "They have all died in a huge fire. But worry not, children- I am in charge of your finances, and I can handle the fortune your parents left you- their will states that you be passed down to the clostest relatives- all of you, since poor Harry here has no living relatives, and dear Hermione hasn't any either. It appears your families have- had incredible trust in the Weasleys. You shall stay in my house while we find a suitable guardian."

The next few days were nothing short of miserable for the children. If you have lost someone so close to you that you feel they are an essential part of your life, then you can understand how it feels- if not, then there is no use explaining what a terrible, terrible feeling it is.

But it was ten times worse for Ron, Hermione, and Harry, because they had lost all three of their families at the same time. Mr Slughorn had taken them to the ruins- the only living things that survived were Harry's pet owl, Hedwig, and Crookshanks, Hermione's ginger cat.

Ron tried his best to argue with Mr Slughorn and tell him he had several siblings and many, many relatives who would take them in, but Mr Slughorn had told him that since his youngest brothers were sixteen, meaning legally old enough to move into their own homes, they were free to stay wherever they wanted. They were, however, not legally old enough to accept guardianship over three kids. He wove his way through excuses and told them that the other Weasleys were not close enough, and that the wills clearly state that the three were to be sent to the closest relative.

The three dragged through their days miserably- Mrs Slughorn was a very annoying woman with wispy white hair- she bought them itchy, horrible clothes and her cooking was always half-burnt at best.

"I have finally found the suitable guardian for you," Mr Slughorn announced one day, over dinner. "His name is Count Riddle."

"I don't know any cousin called Riddle." Ron said stubbornly. He had formed a sort of enmity with Mr Slughorn a refused to speak to him at all. He couldn't understand why he wasn't allowed to see his other siblings, who had undoubtedly heard of the news and were trying their best to see their younger brother….or were they?

"Sirius is distantly related to the Weasleys, and he hasn't heard of this Riddle bloke either." Harry muttered glumly.

"He is a very distant relative- either a third cousin four times removed, or a fourth cousin three times removed- but he's the closest geographically."

"You're going to make us live with some Count person we don't even know?" Ron asked, angrily, his eyes going red with fury.

"Now, now, Ronald- I'm sure Count Riddle will take very good care of you. He may also be quite entertaining- he's an actor, I hear."

"Actor?" Hermione sniffed. "I thought he was a Count?"

"He is an actor and a Count. Now, I don't mean to cut dinner short, but you'll have to pack for tomorrow.

"We're going tomorrow? To the house of some guy we don't even know?"

"Harry, Count Riddle is a well-respected person….or so I am told. Please, go pack your things."

Ron and Harry both stood abruptly and angrily, not wanting to eat their nearly burnt steak anyway. Hermione got up shakily. The three shared dark looks before heading upstairs to pack, heading toward worse luck.

Hehe..I read in a movie review that the reviewer thought if Harry, Hermione, and Ron were siblings and Voldemort was an evil guy aiming to steal their fortune, it would turn out something like this. I got the idea from there….All of it is Lemony Snicket's and JK Rowlings, none is mine!