What Ghoul?

"You have a ghoul?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah, but he doesn't do much," Ron shrugged. "Bangs around pipes usually, moans the odd time. He's pretty tame."

"A ghoul?" Hermione repeated. "Ronald, I've been coming to the Burrow for years, and you've never mentioned a ghoul."

"Didn't think it was important," Ron shrugged. "Besides, we're on our honeymoon!"

"At your house," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ronald, we're supposed to be in Niagara for 6!"

"It's only 4 now, besides, we were married yesterday and we still haven't had our wedding night romp," he gently coaxed her through the door to the bedroom beside the attic.

"Ronald, this is your parent's bedroom. I can't make love to you thinking you were probably conceived on that bed!"

"It's not their room anymore! Mum and dad took over the room on the landing when Perce moved out," he pointed out. "And the bed is mine. Mattress and all."

"I'm sorry Ron, but this is not how I imagined this," Hermione sat on the bed. The brass rails thunked against the walls. "And the bed is creaky."

"So we'll blame it on the ghoul," Ron grinned mischievously.

"You do realize that that's probably why there's a ghoul in the first place," Hermione pointed out.

"Right," Ron said, sitting beside her. The bed creaked again. "You realize I'm not going to be able to…um...you know…with you talking like that?"

"Ronald, it's two more hours…"

"Oi! Tell the ghoul to shut up in there!" Ginny giggled up the stairs.

"Yeah Ronnikins," George joined in. "He's banging the pipes around again."

"I can't believe you think there's a ghoul in the attic," Hermione said, leaving the attic.

"Hermione," he called after her. Exasperated, Ron flopped on the bed, making it creak.

"Oi," George poked his head around the corner of the attic room. "You know the ghoul thing only works when there are actually two of you in here?"

"You knew?" Ron asked. "You knew and you didn't tell me? You know how many nights Hermione and I had to be quiet or do it in the…"

"Ron," George shook his head. "You prat! Of course there's not a ghoul in the attic. Mum and dad made that up ages ago to keep us out of here. Plus it meant we never questioned what those noises were."

He pulled a face at the realization of what the moans and creaks were.

"Exactly," George winked. "By the way, your wife is downstairs complaining to our sister. Fix it!"

Ron dragged his feet down the stairs to the kitchen, where Hermione was whispering to Ginny.

"Right, Angelina!" George said, whisking his wife inside the small room. "What say you to a romp?"

Soon bangs and creaks filled the hallways. Ron's face went white and he made record time as he tore from the kitchen to the attic in five seconds flat.

"GEROGE YOU PRAT! THAT'S MY BED! THOSE ARE MY CHUDLEY CANNONS SHEETS!" He banged on the door, which was locked. Defeated, he slid down the door and bellowed,"OH FOR CHRIST'S SAKE CAST A DAMN SILENCING CHARM!"

"You tell that ghoul, Ron," Harry called from downstairs as peals of laughter met Ron's burning ears.