Ron Weasley knew trouble when he saw it, smelled it, or heard it. With five older brothers, including the twins, who were the most trouble-filled kids he'd ever known, his home life was pretty exciting, and school was pretty good, too. But this, this was trouble with a capitol BAD, and he had no idea what to do about it.
In little white pieces all over the kitchen floor were the remains of his mother's wedding china – a tea set that had been passed down from like, the dinosaurs or Merlin or something else really old. And Auntie Elsa, who smelled like carrots and dressed like a peacock; was coming to stay for a week and would expect it to be used. Religiously.
But it was broken, smashed to tiny little bits, and he was dead smack in the middle of it. Nothing for it, then, the little boy thought. Time to raise the alarm and pray his distress distracted his mother from the punishment he knew he deserved for climbing on the stove pipe shelves.
He opened his mouth and began to cry, real tears edging out his fake ones as he contemplated his fate – Azkaban, with its Dementor guards? Maybe they'd throw him in the Black Lake at Hogwarts and let the giant squid eat him. Or..or maybe he'd be given to Professor Snape to be used in Potions!
The last made him gulp and cry harder, falling down to sit cross-legged in the wreckage as Molly hurried down from the upper floors of the Burrow with a concerned look on her face that shifted and darkened as she saw her kitchen, and her youngest son in the middle of it.
"Oh, Ronnie," she sighed, already tired at mid-morning. Her hands splayed, one on the banister for balance, the other pressing against the arc of her belly, as though she could lend the next and last child more support than he or she was currently receiving. The woman made her way to her sniffling son and knelt in a clear space, casting a Cushioning Charm to protect her knees. "What happened?" she inquired, her eye already straying to the stove and the upper shelves where she kept the dreadful, cabbage rose bedecked china tea set.
"I – I was jus, just playin' and it threw itself off all on its own," Ron tried, hiccupping and wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jumper.
Rolling her eyes at this point would be very, very bad form, Molly knew, but on the inside she was shaking with laughter at this white lie. She eased herself down to settle against the cupboard and lifted her wand again to clear the broken shards, sweeping them into a metal dust pan and then dumping the lot into the bin with a clatter. He would have to be punished, of course, but for now all she could say was,
"Auntie Elsa's head might explode, Ronnie."
END