Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Or the stuff in italics. That's Cole Porter's. I wish I could be J.K. though. Aside from being old. (Sorry J.K., but you're in your, well, forties!)

This is a short chapter. Disappointed? Oh well, the next chapter is going to be longer and will be up (hopefully) this weekend. I've also got a book report on my hands, but it's really easy, the main part of it is summarizing the book, and, seeing as my book is Chamber of Secrets, I could do that summary in my sleep. Oh, and in this, 3-year-old Charlie is speaking in complete sentences. Let's just say that he's like my brother ok? I'm not going into details there. And just to get you annoyed from the suspense,

Bla bla

Bla bla bla

Yadda Yadda Yadda

Random stuff

I like Italian food

Good authors, too, who once knew better words, now only use four letter words, writing prose…anything goes!

Lahdle lahdle lahdle chug chug chug

You're the top… you're the coliseum…You're the top… you're the Louvre Museum… You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss… You're a Bendel Bonnet… A Shakespeare sonnet… You're Mickey Mouse!!!

And now.

The big one…

The one we've all been waiting for…

Chapter Three

A Pink Blotchy Bundle with Horn-Rimmed Glasses

Bill moodily picked at the salmon-colored couch. He had always hated this house. Always. He hated the house almost as much as its single inhabitant, Great-Auntie Muriel. He looked around at the fancy sitting room he was sitting in (what else would he be doing?). The same old pink furniture, the Victorian coffee table, the Persian rug, the lace curtains, and the grandfather clock. And of course, the terrible flowered, baby pink wallpaper with white trim. He hated this place so much, that if his parents would ever, ever want to punish him, something worse than grounding, or (shudder) having his reading privileges revoked, they could just send him for a weekend at Auntie Muriel's house.

Worse than the house, though, was Great-Auntie Muriel. Every time he walked in those pink-tinged French doors, she would swoop down on him and pinch his cheek. Then she would say, "Oh, darling William, you look just as adorable as ever!" And if that weren't enough, she would give him clothes as presents. Not just any clothes, though. Hideous wooly jumpers with knitted pictures of farm animals on the front. Baby blue hats with duckies along the brim. Pants the color of bogeys with mustard colored polka dots. At all the visits to Great-Auntie Muriel's, after dinner he would be expected to do origami. He could never make any sense of it, either. Every visit was the same. He now considered walking up to the front door like walking up to the gallows. Ringing the doorbell was like knocking on the door of the police when you're public enemy number one. And Great-Auntie Muriel was the jailer, the executioner, the dreaded Great-Aunt from…down there.

"Bill!" Charlie's voice coming from the kitchen snapped Bill out of his reverie. "Come on in, the tea's finished!"

Bill got up and walked slowly into the kitchen. Charlie was sitting on the counter, looking at the whistling kettle.

"Well?" Bill said impatiently. "Why don't you take it off the stove?"

Charlie stared at him momentarily, then looked back at the stove, looking absolutely terrified. "The stove is scary!"

"It's just a stove, for heavens sake!" Bill rolled his eyes and retrieved the kettle. He put it next to the teacups (magenta with lavender flowers). "Now why don't you pour it?"

Charlie stared at the kettle apprehensively.

"For goodness' sake, Charlie, it's not going to bite!"

"It isn't?"

"No, you idiot, kettles only bite where Dad works. C'mon, I'll pour it." They carried the tea tray out into the sitting room and put it on the yucky mahogany Victorian coffee table.

Then Charlie asked, "Bill, why aren't we at Uncle Gideon and Uncle Fabian's flat?"

Bill sighed and slowly set down his yucky magenta teacup on the yucky mahogany Victorian coffee table. "Uncle Gid and Uncle Fab have to do some important secret stuff for Dumbledore."

"Dubdore?"

"Dumbledore, you prat, the headmaster."

"Oh."

"And now we're stuck here in poopy Great-Auntie Muriel's house."

"I don't like her."

"Charlie, if you don't like her, you obviously haven't really met her."

Then Great-Auntie Muriel appeared in the door. "Oh, darling William!" she cried. (Bill rolled his eyes and prepared his cheek). "You look just as adorable as ever!" She pinched his cheek. "I'm so sorry I couldn't see you in, I had to finish my face mask!" (Bill raised his eyebrows at a smudge of greenish goop along her jaw). "I have got the best presents for you two! I'll go and get them."

"Presents?" Charlie said excitedly right after she left. "We get presents?!"

"More like parcels from…down there."

"Down there?"

"You know…where bad people go when they die."

"Oh, hell?"

"You're only three years old! Where did you pick that up?"

"I listened to Mummy and Daddy talking about Dubdore."

"Dumbledore. And you shouldn't eavesdrop."

"Eavesdrop?"

"Listen when you're not su—"

Auntie Muriel trotted into the room carrying two lumpy packages. Bill gulped. It looked like jumpers. Again.

Muriel handed the parcels to Bill and Charlie. Charlie started ripping his open excitedly. His face fell when he saw what was inside. "Look, Bill," he said quietly. Bill grimaced as Charlie held up his jumper. It was rust colored with a large picture of a chicken surrounded by her chicks. "Let's see yours."

Bill reluctantly turned to his parcel, so innocently sitting on his lap, tied with twine. He slowly untied the twine and carefully unfolded the paper… "I got the same as you, Charlie," he said flatly. "Just bigger."

"I thought you two would look just precious wearing them together!" Muriel said in sugary, babying tones. "Let's see them on you."

Bill glanced at Charlie, who was now regarding his jumper as if it was going to sprout manic eyes and fangs and devour him alive. They both put on the jumpers. Bill looked down at his. A chicken. This was worse than the one with the pig on it.

"Oh!" Muriel exclaimed, her eyes dewy. "You two look like baby angels! I'll go and get my camera! Oh, and why don't I get some origami paper! I do know how much you love that!" She bustled out of the room.

"Does she?" Charlie asked, looking sick at the prospect of folding paper.

"No," Bill said, eyeing the doorway, hoping she wouldn't come through it. "If she did, she wouldn't make us do it, would she?"

"Why don't we tell her?"

"Mum and Dad would kill us, you idiot."

"They would?"

"Well, whatever they'd do to us, it would be worse than death."

"They w—" Muriel hurried into the room with her camera and a book. She set the book down on the table along with lots of colored paper. Bill leaned forward to read the title: Advanced Origami Patterns for the Paper Folding Master. This was going to be a nightmare.

"Alright, why don't you darling angels scoot closer to each-other." They did what she said, grudgingly. "Now smile!" The camera flashed and both of the boys relaxed. "Okay, I'm going to go to the bathroom, and when I get back I expect to see a nice origami swan on the coffee table!" She dashed out of the room.

Charlie slowly turned to face Bill. "You know how to do origami?"

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Will the istucshuns make sense?"

"Instructions, and I doubt it." He turned to the page that said "Origami Swan".

"1.)" he read aloud, "take a piece of square paper and fold one of the edges so that it is perpendicular to the corner to the left of the next corner? This makes no sense! What does—" He glanced at the page again "perpendicular mean?"

"Let's just fold it like this." Charlie crumpled it into a ball. "There. It's a swan that went through a garbage shredder."

"Charlie, Great-Auntie Muriel's going to be really angry if we don't make a perfect—"

The doorbell rang throughout the house.

"Mummy and Daddy are here! Mummy had the baby!"

"Well, let's open the door!" Bill sprang up and bounced to the door and opened it: He wanted to see the baby too.

Molly and Arthur Weasley were standing on the doorstep. Molly had a white bundle in her arms.

"Yay! The baby!" Bill and Charlie cried. Bill stood on tiptoe and looked into the bundle. Then he looked up at Molly. "Where's the baby?"

"Billy!" Molly exclaimed. "He's right in my arms, in the blankets!"

Bill looked down at the bundle again. "That's not a baby! That's a pink blotchy thing with horn rimmed glasses!"

"Billy! That is your brother, Percy Ignatius Weasley, and he is perfect!"

"Perfect Percy," Charlie muttered under his breath. Molly stared at him.

"Well!" said Arthur, breaking the tension. "Let's be on our way, your mother's exhausted, she needs to get home."

"We don't have to say goodbye?" Charlie asked hopefully.

"Muriel will understand. Come on. Nice jumpers, by the way." Arthur grinned a little. "Speaking of Muriel," he said as they walked up the drive, "how was your afternoon?"

Bill looked at Charlie. Charlie looked at Bill. They both raised an eyebrow. Then they turned to their parents and said in unison, "Yucky."

Ok, maybe not so short. I got a little carried away with Great-Auntie Muriel's. Did you like it? You'd better answer that in your review. Anonymous reviews are enabled, and I hope that eventually I'll get at least seven reviews or so, because I got a lot of emails saying people added me to their story alert lists. I don't expect you to check your email every day or anything, but you should check it every week or two. And even though I don't read every single email, I always scan the list for "New Chapter" mail. So, REVIEW PLEASE WITH A YUMMY CHERRY ON TOP!!!! Or a blueberry. Or just lots of chocolate chips. Or even better, gummy bears.

One last thing: If anyone can guess what those bold words in italics were from, way up at the beginning where I was trying to build the suspense, you get to meet your favorite Harry Potter actor/actress. Just send your request in the review and I'll list your names (account names, I don't actually know you) and the person you meet in the next chapter! Toodle-oo, and review!

Hint: The quotes are from a famous play.