— STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE —

— LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED —"

— ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED — YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME!

Oh yes, Ronald Weasley was certainly in a great deal of trouble. His Father, Arthur Weasley, had sent an owl about two months or so after Molly's howler had reached Hogwarts. The letter had explained - in a little too much detail for Ron's liking- how he was going to be punished when he got home for the Christmas Holidays.

"I won't sit down for weeks…" Ron mumbled, tucking his Father's letter into his robes and glaring into the bowl of jam roly poly and custard that he'd been enjoying that evening-at least until Errol smashed into a bowl of profiteroles in front of him, a crisp white letter enclosed in his beak.

"Well you can't say that you don't deserve it. Stealing a car of all things." Hermione sighed, picking out a golden tart with glossy red jam smeared across the top.

"Bloody hell Hermione." Ron snapped, ears turning pink. "I've heard it from Snape, McGonagall, Mum and Dad. I don't need a lecture from you as well!" he huffed. "Anyway…have you seen Harry? I need to talk to him."

"No. Though I would have thought he'd have joined us for dinner." The young girl answered, her bushy brows coming together in a frown. "Maybe he's in the common room? With everyone muttering about him all the time…well I suppose he'd rather be alone." she deduced.

Harry was certainly going through a lot that term. A great many students seemed to think he was the heir of Slytherin due to the fact he'd supposedly set a Snake on a Hufflepuff boy (Justin Finch-Fletchly) and they were convinced he had been plotting the attacks against the currently petrified muggle-borns. Poor Harry hadn't even known what a Parselmouth was up until a couple of weeks ago, or that being able to converse with snakes just wasn't a normal thing to do-even in the Wizarding world. So many thoughts and emotions had been warring inside him. He didn't know who he was any more, why he was always so different from any other student at Hogwarts. It had been bad enough being the famed boy who lived for his entire first year at school (Harry had hated the attention), but he'd rather be known as the boy who lived than the heir of Slytherin.

"Guess you're right." Ron sighed. Heir of Slytherin indeed. He knew better. The young Weasley sent a glare over to the Slytherin table where he caught Draco Malfoy muttering something incoherent to his cronies. Oh yes, he knew better. "How's that polyjuice coming along?" he asked, lowering his voice as he turned back to face his friend.

"Everything should be in place once we get back after Christmas." Hermione answered, her eyes twinkling. "I think I've finally perfected the Knott grass to powdered Bicorn-horn ratio. It only took two attempts, mind." she beamed, obviously very proud of herself.

"The…what to what?"

Hermione rolled her eyes up to the enchanted Hogwarts ceiling and released a frustrated breath. "Never mind, Ronald."

"There he is!"

"-Ickle Ronniekins enjoying his last meal sitting down, I detect."

"-Oh I concur George."

Ron looked over his shoulder, his mood worsening when he saw his twin brothers make their way towards him, large grins plastered on their identical freckled faces. Brilliant. Just what he needed.

"Sod off you two."

"Not very friendly is he, Fred?" George asked, seating himself beside Ron despite the younger boy's chagrin.

"Quite disrespectful I'd say, George." Fred agreed, putting himself on the other side of Ron, the twins sandwiching their younger brother between them so there was going to be no chance of escape.

"Christmas is a time for family, dearest brother." George smiled.

"And we thought, quite brilliantly I might add, that a bit of old Christmas carolling might cheer you up." Fred smirked.

Ron didn't like where this was going at all.

"Since when do you care about Dad's stupid Muggle traditions?" he asked, not looking at either of them and instead right down at his bowl of pudding -which -judging by the lack of rising steam, had gone cold by now.

"Since we found the perfect song to cheer you up, Ronniekins. Ready Fred?"

"Ready George."

Both young men cleared their throats in unison, and to Ron's horror, they began to sing (if you could even call it singing that was).

"Oh, Dad's temper can sure be frightful."

"-But the sight, is so delightful."

"-And we know how this will go,"

"-Ron's bum will glow, it will glow, it will glow!"

"- and Dad doesn't show signs of stopping,"

"-as Ron's bottom gets a popping."

"-Just look at Dad's belt go,"

"-his bum's aglow, its aglow, its agloooowwwwww!"

Ron's face burned scarlet with mortification and the twins had scampered off in gales of laughter with the younger Weasley chasing after them, his bowl of pudding aimed directly for their heads.

"GITS!" He screamed as the twins disappeared behind a corridor and seemed to vanish into thin air. Oh how he loathed his brothers sometimes. As the boy started making his way back to the Great Hall, an overwhelming feeling of dread settled like a lead ball in his gut as he re-lived those humiliating lyrics. They weren't wrong. He knew he could expect to get a good whipping from his Father's belt once he got home. He'd never gotten his Father's belt for any of his previous transgressions but he'd heard directly from Charlie and Bill just how excruciating it was when your bottom got lined with red, burning welts. Arthur was a very patient and lenient man, that was true. He only ever lost his temper/cool when one of his little Weasel kits put themselves in danger-each kit knew that when their Father lost his temper they were in big trouble.

It had been the same when Arthur caught Fred and George trying to make an Unbreakable vow with him, he'd been just five years old and terrified when he heard the sounds of his Father's slipper crashing down on both little identical bottoms in the other room. It was the first time he'd ever seen their Father lose his temper, (though he had of course calmed himself down before administering punishment).

It had been the same when Charlie, his dragon-mad brother, had climbed into a pen of Welsh Greens four years ago during a family outing. Luckily, Arthur had been able to immobilize the Dragons and get Charlie out unscathed. Charlie did not sit comfortably for a few days after that incident.

Well as miserable as Ron's situation was…at least he could cling to the fact that he wouldn't be alone. Which reminded him, he needed to find Harry. The young Weasley retreated to the great Hall at a quicker pace, avoiding Hermione's eye as he set down his untouched bowl of pudding-and left without a word. He walked straight to the common room and pulled his Father's letter from the depths of his pocket.

Dearest Ron,

I hope you're well son, and I hope you've been behaving yourself. I haven't forgotten about the unfortunate incident with the car and I think you and I need to have a little talk about it when you come home for Christmas. I'm sorry Ron, but I will not lose you or Harry, you need to understand the consequences of your actions, the both of you. Which reminds me, I'd like you to inform Harry that he is welcome to spend Christmas with us at home this year and yes, I think you know what that means, Ronald. Harry may not be my son but he was in my care, and my responsibility when the two of you took off like you did. I'll explain everything in a little more detail when we can speak in person.

I look forward to seeing you both,

Love Dad x

How was he going to explain to Harry that his Father had practically invited the boy to their home for a good thrashing? Blood pounding in his ears, Ron made his way through the portrait of the Fat lady and did indeed find Harry in the common room. "Hiya Harry." he paused, shifting nervously from foot to foot. "I uh, I need to tell you something."

Harry looked from the enthral of the roaring fire and over to his friend as he came through the portrait, a small smile on his narrow face. "What is it?"

"Well…."

It took Harry a whole five minutes to read through Arthur Weasley's letter and understand what this meant for him. Guilt crashed over him in waves as he read the words 'I will not lose you, or Harry.' No one had ever really cared for him and made him feel like family like the Weasleys had that summer. He felt like such an arse to have thrown their kindness back in their faces like he had. The thought of (as Ron put it when he'd finished reading) getting whipped with a belt did not sound at all pleasant. Oh…but how could he pass up an opportunity to spend Christmas day with his best friend and his family? Molly would make the most magnificent Christmas dinner he'd ever seen. Fred and George would sing themselves hoarse with silly carols, wizarding and muggle alike. He'd get to pull Christmas crackers wrapped in shiny, glittering paper with his best friend, and wear silly paper crowns of all colours. His heart began to swell with warmth at the very thought of it.

Christmas with the Weasleys. How could anyone possibly pass up such an opportunity?

"So…uh…what do you think?" Ron asked a little awkwardly, not looking at Harry as he ran his finger idly across the golden tassels tying back the deep maroon Gryffindor curtains. He'd expected Harry to crumple up the letter, throw it into the fire and go into a rage about being smacked by someone who wasn't even his parent. He almost toppled over in surprise when Harry turned to him and said,

"I think it sounds brilliant!" It had been the first time he'd really smiled in weeks.

Ron stared at the bespectacled boy as though he'd gone mad.

"What?"

"It's brilliant Ron, completely brilliant!" Harry beamed.

"Brilliant? What? …Did you read it properly? We're going to get thrashed!" Ron squeaked in disbelief. What was so brilliant about that?!

"Well…no, not that part." Harry decided, "But spending Christmas at your house…I mean, it's just…it's brilliant!"

"Brilliant." Ron muttered, shaking his head. "You won't think it's so bloody brilliant when you can't sit down on Christmas Day." he tried to reason with his best mate, but he wasn't listening, he was staring down at the letter again, as if needing confirmation that his invite to a Weasley Christmas was real. Maybe if he had spent every Christmas day of his life locked in a cupboard, getting the mere scraps of Christmas turkey and a couple of pigs in blankets on a small plate, he would have understood the absolute delight on Harry's face.

"I better go pack!" Harry said quickly, the twelve year old jumping to his feet and racing up to the Dormitory.

"...er, right." Ron did not follow with nearly as much enthusiasm, more the enthusiasm of a dead man walking.

The morning they were set to leave for the Hogwarts express, Harry was feeling a mixture of emotions. Exhilaration over spending Christmas with a loving family, guilt about facing up to Molly, Arthur and what he'd done, anxiety about his upcoming punishment and sorrow for his friend who had been acting as though he were a prisoner about to face a chopping block all morning. It was hard to settle his mind and heart on just one emotion, so he chose to think about something else. About how when they got back to Hogwarts they might finally know who the Heir of Slytherin was. That made him feel a little more at ease.

"Ready?" Harry looked up from the grooves of the stone floor as Ron made his way down the wide steps and toward him, his heavy old, battered trunk wheeling along behind him. Poor Ron hadn't been able to stomach any breakfast that morning, in fact he looked a little pale-and sweatier than usual. Was their punishment really going to be that bad? Or was Ron just being dramatic?

"Yeah. I really think you should have tried to eat something though." Harry answered, picking up Hedwig's cage and wincing when she all but screamed at him for disturbing her slumber, "Sorry Hed."

"I guess I'll get something on the train." Ron answered with a small, lazy shrug, following Harry out onto the grounds where a group of excited second year students were stood, waiting for Hagrid to take them all down to the station. Harry and Ron walked in silence, mostly because they couldn't think of anything to say to one another, their trunks wheeling along behind them over the gravel and frost covered grass.

"All righ' second years, follow me!" Hagrid seemed to appear out of nowhere, waving his big, tree trunk arm and leading the way down through the grounds and to the station. Ron and Harry had to fall into a sort of jog to keep up with the crowd once they started moving, and were breathless when they got down to the platform and saw the familiar copper coloured magnificent steam train. Hagrid made his way over to Ron and Harry as their animals were taken from them by the conductor (who had to jut his hips to one side to avoid being bitten on the bottom by the Snowy owl through the bars of her cage).

"Sorry…she's in a bit of a bad mood this morning." Harry said sheepishly, shooting a look of warning to his owl as she was taken away.

"Probably jus' hates the hustle an bustle." Hagrid chuckled as he loomed over both young lion cubs, with his nose and cheeks cherry red from the cold and his large maroon coloured coat, Harry couldn't help thinking he looked like a sort of bushy haired Santa clause. "All righ there 'Arry?" he asked, clapping the boy on the shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "Headin' 'ome for Christmas?"

"Sort of Hagrid, I'm going to Ron's." Harry answered.

Hagrid's smile only widened. "Yer a lucky lad 'Arry. 'Ave a good 'oliday you two." he said, giving Ron a clap on the shoulder as well (which almost caused the young Weasley's knees to buckle under the weight).

"Thanks Hagrid,"

"You too." Harry and Ron answered, heading onto the train and settling themselves into an empty compartment. With some students choosing to stay at school for the Christmas Holidays, the Hogwarts express wasn't nearly as full as it usually was. The boys seated themselves opposite one another and stared out of the window as it began to lightly snow.

"Dad's gonna meet us at the station. Got his owl this morning." Ron mumbled after what seemed like hours of silence. The boy fidgeted in his seat and crossed his arms over his stomach. Harry thought he was thinking about this way too much. Ron didn't really know what a belting from Arthur would be like, he only knew a few things from what he had been told by Charlie and Bill. Of course, it hadn't helped when Fred and George gave their own renditions about it being the 'worst pain we've ever felt' and 'You won't sit down for a whole year.' Gits.

"Your mum too?" Harry asked hopefully. Maybe Arthur would be less inclined to shout himself hoarse at the two of them the second they set foot onto the station if Molly was there.

"No-"

Well, that was that idea down the drain.

"-she's going to Diagon Alley to get some stuff for Christmas. Dad says she's really excited about having you over-wants to get all new decorations and stuff."

Harry felt his heart melting. Mrs Weasley was too good to him, she really was. The boys went back to sitting in silence, even as the train began pulling out of the station and started to pick up speed. Harry watched Ron as the red-headed boy stared out of the window, a million and one thoughts seemed to be running through his mind. Harry glanced back at the closed doors of the compartment, and considering they had some privacy, he decided to ask a question that had been on his mind for some time.

"So, getting smacked…I mean, what should I expect?"

He sort of wished he hadn't. Ron's cheeks flushed a light shade of pink as he looked at Harry, and his fidgeting got worse. Obviously this was a bit of an embarrassing subject but Harry was too curious to just wait for it to happen when they got to the burrow. "Well…it hurts."

"Thanks Ron, I could have figured that one out for myself, actually." Harry groaned.

"And it's uh…well y'know. It's embarrassing, especially when…when Dad pulls your pants down." Ron struggled to say.

"Bare, really?" Harry couldn't help sounding shocked. He would have thought the Weasley kids were too old to get their bare bottoms smacked. Apparently not.

Ron's cheeks burned even redder and he cleared his throat. "Well…well Dad says that a smacking should be on someone's bottom…not someone's trousers." he explained, now avoiding Harry's eye. He really, really didn't want to talk about this but he doubted his best mate was going to drop the conversation because-well he would want to know what he could expect and prepare himself for it.

"I guess that makes sense." Harry frowned.

"He also says it's cause he wants to make sure he can see the …colour." Ron almost choked on the word.

"Colour?" this was getting very confusing for poor Harry.

"Well…when you get smacked…your bum sort of changes colour." Ron answered, "Goes from white…to pink…to red. Dad never gives us more than…y'know…red."

"You really aren't the best at explaining things, y'know that?" Harry sighed, sitting himself back against the seats.

"Well bloody hell Harry, it's not an easy thing to talk about you know!" Ron snapped, putting his face in his hands and groaning. "Can we please talk about something else?!"

Unable to hide a small smirk at his friend's discomfort, Harry nodded his head and the two got into a rather long, deep conversation about who was the better Quidditch team. The Chudley Cannons (Ron's team) or Puddlemere United (Harry's team). It wasn't a heated conversation, though there were some pouts and scowls here and there, as you could expect from two boys talking about opposing sports teams.

"And Galvin Gudgeon is possibly the best seeker in the world because-"

"-Hey look, we're here." Harry cut across as Ron started gushing over the Cannon's seeker. The boys pressed their faces up against the window, seeing King's cross station, more specifically, platform nine and three quarters coming into view from the corner of their eyes.

"Great." Ron mumbled, stuffing some liquorice wands and chocolate frogs (that the boys had both purchased from the trolley about an hour ago) into his pockets. "Can you see my Dad?" he asked, settling back into the seat as Harry kept his face glued to the cold, frosted window. Every now and again he had to wipe it clean with his sleeve as it fogged over due to his heavy breathing. His heart was starting to hammer against his rib cage now that they were so close to seeing Arthur Weasley.

"Not yet." The boy answered, pulling himself away from the window and waiting with trepidation as the train slowed to a stop. Neither spoke a word but exchanged nervous glances as they stood and started making their way off of the train, legs feeling like jelly and feet feeling as heavy as lead. Harry followed behind Ron as they stepped onto the station, both boys looking around for either Arthur or one of Ron's brothers (or sister).

"Ron, Harry!"

The boy froze and turned on his heel, whimpering when he saw Arthur jogging toward them. The man was dressed smartly in a navy suit, burgundy sweater vest and white shirt, not his usual bright emerald travelling cloak. His face was a bit pink from the jogging, and his blue eyes were ever kind, twinkling with delight as he approached his son and their little house guest. Without a word, Arthur pulled Ron into a hug and ruffled his hair affectionately, before doing the same to Harry.

It took him by surprise but warmed him all the same.

"Good to see the both of you, how was the journey?" Arthur asked gently. Harry frowned a little. The man didn't seem even a little bit angry with them. At least, not the same anger he was used to seeing on Vernon's face, (which was usually purple with rage, his eyes bulging from their sockets).

"Good, uh..sir." Harry answered a little woodenly.

Arthur gave them both a little smile, knowing exactly why they were a bit nervous and quiet. They would talk about that when they got back to the Burrow though. It didn't take long for each of Arthur's Weasel kits to congregate, and he gave each of them a rather large hug and implored them to tell him how their term at school had been while they collected their things. Arthur and Percy got into a very deep conversation about the attacks on muggle-borns, not leaving out the part about the whole school thinking Harry was the heir of Slytherin (which got a snort of disbelief from the Weasley Patriarch).

Both Harry and Ron took the opportunity to fall back with their trunks, moving at a slower pace.

"I thought your Dad would be mad…" Harry whispered, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"He probably is." Ron whispered back. "Dad's not usually one for public scenes. He'll wait til we get home to lecture us." Arthur Weasley wasn't really the shouting type, at least not when enough time had passed for him to calm down and think about things from a controlled point of view. He could lose his temper, he could get angry (he was human after all) but he would never, ever punish his kits in that anger-and to this day he never has.

"Father, how are we going to get home without the car?" Percy asked as they got through the barrier one by one and began leaving the station, trying to appear as Muggle-ish as possible with their large trunks and cages of rats and owls. They did get some odd looks.

Ron felt his ears burn with shame as Percy glanced back over his shoulder at him, giving him a disapproving look. Well, he knew it was going to be brought up sooner or later. Harry winced too, glaring at the back of Percy's perfect little head when he turned away from them.

"I've had to borrow a car from the ministry for a while." Arthur answered carefully. "It's not as practical as a flying car of course, but it'll get us from A to D as the muggles would say." he smiled.

Harry had a feeling Arthur meant 'A to B' since he sometimes got mixed up with certain muggle words. He didn't have the heart (or the courage in that moment) to correct him though. Soon enough, all their trunks and cages and the likes were compacted into the charmed boot of the black, sleek car, and all the Weasley children (plus Harry) clambered into the back seat. Though it looked like a normal company car from the outside, the inside had been charmed to be much bigger. Six people could sit comfortably on one long seat without bumping up against each other (though Fred and George still tried to kick Percy's ankles now and again as Arthur drove).

"Enjoy sitting while you can, ickle Ronniekins." Fred whispered cruelly, a mean smirk on his face.

"We noticed Dad's wearing his most painful leather belt today." George added quietly, pretending to look sympathetic.

"Poor lambs." they both chimed together, giving the allusion that they felt sorry for both Gryffindor boys.

Harry and Ron thought it would be wise to ignore the twins and not rise to the bait. They sat in silence, listening as Ginny rambled on about how her first term at Hogwarts had been so far to Mr Weasley, who nodded and said 'Ahh' and 'Mhmm' in all the right places. For Harry and Ron, the ride from the station to Ottery St. Catchpole hadn't taken as long as they would have liked. Before they knew it, Arthur was pulling up on the dirt road just a footpath away from the ever growing Burrow. Fred, George, Percy and Ginny clambered out immediately, hurrying to get their things.

Arthur noticed Harry and Ron weren't keen on moving and he looked back at both boys through the rear view mirror. "Boys." he said, clearing his throat and continuing when he had their attention. "I want you to go up to your room, Ron. Harry, you as well. Both of you sit down on the bed and wait for me, all right?"

Harry heard Ron whimper a bit and he nodded, "Y-Yes Mr Weasley.

"Yes Dad…" Ron whined.

This was it. The moment they had both been dreading. In less than an hour they would both be sporting very red, very sore bottoms.