Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has to do with Harry Potter or have any relation to its publishers or distributors and I do not profit from writing fanfiction.
Ron stepped into the doorway of the room he shared with Harry, looking down at his bespectacled best friend. With his towering height and the golden light prickling through his ginger hair from the window behind him, he looked like a tree in autumn. Ron flashed Harry a grin and gestured to his chest; he was wearing a tuxedo.
"Yeah?" asked Ron.
"No."
"Why not? I thought Muggles wore these things."
"On special occasions."
"This is a special occasion."
"Really, Ron, she's only been gone two weeks."
"Yeah, but it's different, now we're together, y'know."
Harry rolled his green eyes and turned to descend the stairs, which whined in a series of noisy creaks, while Ron retreated to his room to change. Ron tossed a simple white t-shirt over his chest and stepped into his leaf camouflage pants before trotting down the stairs. He stopped in front of the door to Ginny's room, which had a big crack and several black burns from one of Fred and George's loose fireworks.
"I'm giving you five seconds to get dressed," joked Ron as he knocked on the door, though he found himself wincing at the thought.
"Come in," said Ginny's voice from within.
Ron stepped into the room, looking suspicious. It was a hot, sunny day and a shard of sunlight slanted across the floor through the window. Ron found Harry sitting casually on Hermione's bed, and saw Ginny laying in her own. As he'd not heard any shuffling upon knocking, he guessed that they were just sitting and talking.
"She'll be here any minute," said Ron with excitement.
"George is coming tonight too," said Ginny, sounding anxious.
"'Bout time, he's been giving Mum a right scare."
"You know what this means, don't you?" said Harry as he sat up, and the two Weasleys turned their heads to see an eager grin form across his face. "There'll be a feast tonight."
Ron considered Harry's prediction, and grinned wickedly at the thought. Before long, his eyes began darting between his best friend and his sister.
"So, are you two..."
Harry raised his eyebrows, and before Ron could ask any more, there was a sound out in the yard that Ron recognized as a closing car door. Ron rushed to the window to see a bushy brown head of hair shimmering in the sunlight as the girl underneath it approached The Burrow, followed by a large ginger cat. Harry opened the door and stepped aside, knowing better than to block Ron's path.
Ron dashed down the stairs and towards the front door, weaving through furniture. He stopped short of the door and regained his composure, attempting to look casual. Once he heard a light knock on the door, he waited a moment, then turned the knob and pulled it open. Unable to stop his treacherous cheeks and ears from burning red, he stepped back to admit her.
She stood for a moment, beaming at him, before closing the gap between them and tossing her arms around his neck. He embraced her tightly as he heard Harry and Ginny amble down the stairs.
"Camo again?" asked Hermione as she stepped back.
"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" said Ron, slightly affronted. "It's like a permanent Disillusionment charm for your legs—constant vigilance and all."
"Oh, yes, Ron, he'd be so proud," joked Ginny as she approached and received her hug from Hermione.
"How are your parents?" asked Ginny while Harry and Ron stepped out to fetch Hermione's luggage from the taxi.
"Quite well, considering what they've been through," replied Hermione as the group walked toward the kitchen. "Although, they've made a habit of making sure I'm always in their sights."
Ron began to respond, but was interrupted as a large barn owl swept through the window and dropped a small piece of parchment on the kitchen table, then made a graceful turn and shot out through a different window. Ron unfolded the note and read it, before passing it on to Harry.
Hey, Ron, come by my gran's house, and soon! Before the start of the school year!
- Neville
"What's that about?" asked Ron.
Harry shrugged before passing the note on.
"Perhaps he'd like to join us in Diagon Alley when we buy our school supplies?" suggested Ginny.
Hermione withdrew a quill and bit of parchment from her bag and scribbled a small note onto it. She folded it and called Pigwidgeon to deliver it, and soon the fluttering ball of feathers soared out of the window and disappeared into the sky.
The day passed by quickly, full of merry chatter and Wizard's Chess, until Mr. Weasley arrived and Mrs. Weasley began preparing dinner. Apparently, Harry was right, because she'd asked for help from Ginny and Hermione. Harry, Ron, and Mr. Weasley were to set tables outside, like they had done during the summer before the Quidditch World Cup.
"I should really get to helping with dinner," said Hermione, as she tilted her head back to give Ron access to her neck; they'd crossed paths in the garage while searching for cooking supplies and became distracted.
"I'm not stopping you."
"Oh, yes you are."
"Ease up, it's been two weeks."
As they stepped out of the garage, they saw Harry brandishing his wand and using the Locomotor charm to transport the kitchen's heavy wooden tables to the yard, and Ron went to collect silverware and plates with his father. Once the tables were set along a barren patch of land next to the Burrow under the twilit sky, Mr. Weasley turned to Harry and patted him on the shoulder.
"You're a man now, Harry," said Mr. Weasley. "And as such, I'd like you to call me Arthur from now on."
"Alright," replied Harry with a smile. "Does Molly feel the same way?"
"Are you kidding?" said Ginny as she approached with the first of many platters of food. "You called her 'Mum' the other day by accident and she looked like Christmas came early."
Molly walked out to the assemblage of tables carrying a tray with a big roast turkey, which was moist and golden, and surrounded in chopped potatoes, onions, and gravy. She was followed by a young Centaur girl, whose wavy cinnamon-colored hair was swishing back and forth as she walked toward the table, carrying a tray of desserts.
"Helinora!" exclaimed Harry. "I haven't seen you in weeks."
She approached Ron, who crouched to her level and embraced her, before she turned to Harry.
"George has me working at the shop, in the stock room—I attract attention otherwise, you see."
"Rubbish," said Hermione. "You ought to be able to live among humans without any problem. It's ignorance at its worst."
Ron wandered out of the group and into the field adjacent to the Burrow. He saw a man with a vibrant orange head of hair standing before a fresh tombstone. As he approached, Ron could make out the sparkle of tears on the man's cheeks, shining in the moonlight.
"How are you feeling?" asked Ron quietly.
George stood eerily still for a few moments, before turning to face his brother, his eyes still waterlogged.
"Like I'm alone for the first time in my life," he responded. "By myself... I've never had to face anything without him."
Ron shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say. He felt a pang in his chest as his gaze met his brother's tombstone, but was determined not to show it. His family and friends depended on him being the one not to cry. George turned back to the grave.
"Silly tradition, funerals... I feel like this grave is mocking me, like it exists to remind me of what I don't have."
The next few seconds consisted of a dark silence.
"Mum made turkey," Ron said finally. George snorted.
"Excellent."
Ron returned with George, who was immediately made to endure a bone-crushing hug from his mother before he was offered a seat. Basking in his new peaceful life, Harry scanned his company happily: Molly was smiling weakly in George's direction, Ron and Hermione were flirting playfully next to Harry, and across the table, Ginny and George were conversing about the shop.
"How are things going at the Ministry, Arthur?" asked Hermione.
"It's utter chaos," replied Arthur. "As you can imagine."
"It'll die down soon," assured Molly. "Now the war's over, it's only a matter of time."
"Hopefully, but for now it's bedlam. Percy couldn't come tonight because of it. He's requisitioned to be placed in my office, as my assistant, you know."
"Coming from Percy, that's the highest compliment," said George with a grin, displaying a mouthful of potatoes.
"It was a nice gesture." Arthur smiled. "Kingsley's blocked it, though, he needs Percy on his personal staff for now."
"How's Kingsley as Minister?" asked Ron, before he subjected a large drumstick to complete carnage.
"Impressive, the way he's on top of things. You wouldn't believe it, the multitasking ability that man has. He's also quite annoyed with the behavior of some of the Ministry officials. He's gone and sacked Dolores Umbridge, and now she's facing charges of crimes against Muggleborns."
There was a collective sigh of satisfaction across the table.
"How are you settling in with George?" asked Hermione to Helinora.
"It's difficult," she began. "I can't go out to run much, but George and Lee and Angie make sure I have fun."
"You should have seen their faces," said George with a chuckle. "We're very busy, too—the re-opening was great, and people are gobbling up our new line of Battle-Axe Bandit products."
"How are the Bandits?" asked Harry.
"They're fine. Off to Hogwarts this year, in fact. I'm also working on something that's not to do with the joke shop, but I can't divulge the details now—by the time I can do, you'll already know what it is."
"That's, er, nice, George," said Molly, looking concerned.
"Why aren't you a wolf?" asked Helinora from across the table, staring at Ron.
Ron glanced up at the bright, clear moon overhead. His smile faded, and he looked around the table toward the young Centaur girl.
"My transformations have steadied since I've stopped resisting," he replied. "Now it's only the night of the full moon, and the Wolfsbane works wonders."
"Oh!" said Hermione, realization dawning on her face. "Ron, I'll not be able to prepare your potion during the school year, it's so much work. With N.E.W.T.s to worry about, I won't have the time... I've owled McGonagall requesting permission to use the Shrieking Shack."
"Oh, that'll be fun," grumbled Ron with a pout.
"Do people still think it's haunted?" said Harry. "There hasn't really been any shrieking going on there for a long time."
"There will be if Hermione joins him," joked George with a waggle of the eyebrows, his grin returning. Hermione's eyes widened and she looked away, her cheeks growing pink, and Ron narrowed his eyes at his brother. Molly raised an eyebrow, and Harry and Ginny were reduced to sniggering.
"Oi!" exclaimed Harry in mock-disgust. "I'm eating here!"
"Wonder how McGonagall will run the school," said Ron when the laughter died down, eager to change the subject.
"I know she'll be brilliant," said Hermione. "She respected Dumbledore so much, she wouldn't differ too greatly with his methods."
"Minerva may be a bit strict," said Molly. "But that's a good thing. We can't have any more children chasing Basilisks into the Chamber of Secrets, or crashing cars into the Whomping Willow, and Merlin only knows the extent of your rule-breaking, George."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were staring at their plates, their cheeks painted with varying shades of ruby. George grinned and raised his glass.
"To mischief!" he said, before downing his pumpkin juice.
A slumbering Ron Weasley awoke not to the sound of Harry's snoring, someone walking down the stairs or even the sounds of the house itself swaying in the wind, but to a shriek from downstairs that was so loud it threatened to crack every window of The Burrow. He bolted to his feet and glanced toward Harry's bed to confirm that it was empty before hurrying through the room and jogging down the stairs.
He rushed downstairs and found Hermione staring wide-eyed at a page of parchment clasped tightly in her hand. Flanking her were Harry and Ginny, both inspecting their own letters. Hermione spotted Ron and dashed to him, throwing her arms around him and nearly knocking him over. Ron glanced at his smirking sister and best friend quizzically, and Harry held up a badge in the shape of a shield that featured a lion, a badger, a serpent, and an eagle on its corners and a large golden H at its center.
"Congratulations," said Ron, stepping back from Hermione's grip. She beamed at him proudly and thrust an off-white page of parchment to him.
"You too."
Ron unfolded it and saw another badge, and inspected it closely to see Head Boy engraved along its top edge. His eyes scanned the letter, which contained a list of books and a small hand-written note at the bottom.
You may use the Shrieking Shack once each month to help with your condition. You've also received an Award for Special Services to the School. Congratulations, Mr. Weasley.
- M. McGonagall
"No bloody way," breathed Ron. "Me?"
"Of course," said Harry. "Who else?"
"You, you git."
Ron sat down on the couch, staring at his badge, and was soon joined by Harry, Ginny, and Hermione.
"Oh, don't worship it, Ron, you're starting to look like Percy," mused Harry. "Oh, and I've also received another Award for Special Services to the School."
"Another?" asked Hermione.
"Yeah," said Ron. "We both got one for going down into the Chamber of Secrets, second year, remember?"
Hermione pouted, clearly annoyed, as she was petrified by a Basilisk during that particular adventure.
"What, is one not enough for you?" joked Ginny.
"Oh, of course it is!" said Hermione, before she tugged on Ron's hand, urgently signaling for him to stand.
She pinned his Head Boy badge to his pyjama shirt and dragged him along to the front yard where Molly was retrieving eggs from the chickens. This activity unfortunately brought her near Fred's grave, and she'd always return noticeably sullen. She was approaching the house, looking gloomy, when she spotted Ron, Hermione, and Ron's new badge. Her face lit up and she gently placed the basket of eggs aside to free her hands, then grasped Ron in a firm hug.
"I knew it, Ronnie!" she said. "Even with Harry Potter in your year, you're Head Boy!"
Ron's cheeks grew maroon, from both embarrassment and suffocation. Molly loosened her grip and stepped back, giving him a few seconds to catch his breath, before turning to Hermione and giving her a tight squeeze as well.
"I'm proud of both of you," she said as she released Hermione. "That's three Head Boys in the family, and, perhaps soon, one Head Girl."
She winked to Hermione once before retrieving her basket and strolling inside. Ron shook his head with an amused smile; his mother had been dropping hints about he and Hermione ever since she returned from Australia. Hermione laughed lightly and turned to face Ron.
"Get dressed, we're due at Neville's."
With four rapid *cracks* echoing through the valley beside them, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny appeared at a dirt road that stretched over a large hill on the outskirts of a town, in front of a handsome white house. Next to the house was a large glass structure with many plants filling it to its ceiling like a big green cloud. The group of teenagers ambled through the front yard which was dotted with green light that prickled through the foliage of the trees high above.
"Neville's got a beautiful home," remarked Hermione as they arrived at the entrance to Neville's greenhouse and peered inside.
The greenhouse was a jungle of green, with patches of colorful flowers, rows of young trees, and urgent insects buzzing about the scene. Walking down the main path in the greenhouse was a round-faced boy wearing thick dragon-hide yardwork gloves. He smiled brightly at the group and motioned for them to open the door and enter. As they entered, they immediately whiffed a zesty mixture of scents from the various plants around them.
Neville greeted the group, received his due hugs and pats on the back, and started guiding them down the main path of the greenhouse, pointing out several plants along the way.
"Those are Bewitch-Me-Nots," he said, pointing at a square of yellow flowers with thin petals. "The petals are resistant to minor spells."
"Could be useful," observed Harry.
"Not that we need it," added Ron slyly.
"That's a Piranha Patch," identified Neville as they passed a group of chattering plants similar in appearance to the Venus Flytrap, which seemed to have been purposefully placed a good distance away from the other plants. "You plant them where you don't want things to walk."
"Oh, so that's what they're for," said Ginny, oozing with sarcasm. "And here I'd thought you were supposed to hand them out on Valentine's Day."
"Oh, watch out, Harry." Neville smirked. "Those are Fairystick Flowers. They attract butterflies, so they make a good gift."
They reached the end of the path, and came across a massive stone pot that was filled with soil, and, at its center, a tiny red leaf protruded from the dirt.
"Igneus Viridis," said Neville matter-of-factly. "Burning Green. It'll bloom in about fifty years. It's in the same family as the Piranha plants, and it breathes fire like a dragon."
"Bloody hell," said Ron. "Why would you want one—and after fifty years—that'll take forever!"
"I think it'll actually just take about fifty years," said Hermione.
"I'll be right back," said Neville. "If something sprays you, come get me."
"Oh, that's nice," said Harry bitterly, with memories of Cho finding him in his compartment on the Hogwarts Express while he was covered in Stinksap.
"Well, someone's getting a Herbology N.E.W.T.," said Ginny with a smile.
Before long, Neville returned with an ornate jade pot that was small enough to carry with one hand. It was home to a ghostly transparent flower, which was white at its center, with five crisp, silvery-blue triangular petals at the end of a thin, swerving stem. Harry thought it almost looked like a blue Patronus.
"Ron, Hermione told me you'd become a bloodthirsty beast," said Neville, grinning. "By sheer luck, I found this Mermish Starflower. Its petals will curl when the full moon is near, so you'll have a good warning in case you forget."
"Wow," breathed Hermione. "That's very thoughtful, Neville!"
"It's nothing," said Neville. He carefully passed the jade pot to Hermione. "Make sure to water it once every two days before bed. I can do it once we're at school."
"Thanks," said Ron with a smile. "You've gotten really good at this."
"Ah, yes," said Neville, his voice a bit deeper. He turned his back to them and placed a hand on the rim of the large Burning Green pot. "I can teach you to infect the mind and sting the senses, I can tell you how to seed fame, bud glory—"
"Thanks, Neville, but we really should get going to Diagon Alley," interrupted Harry as he glanced around at his friends, who were all on the verge of laughter.
Neville turned to them with a pronounced frown.
"Yeah, you're right, let's go."
"It was good, though."