The face of an angry Ron Weasley was a terrifying prospect, particularly to a thirteen-year-old boy already on the verge of tears.
"You did this to her, didn't you. Didn't you?"
With every shake of the fist clutching his shirt, Sam's head knocked against the bricks behind him.
A ringing in Sam's ears erupted as dizziness overtook him.
Combined with the adrenaline and panic he was experiencing, Sam could no longer hear or comprehend anything but the colour of Ron's face slowly morphing from red to purple.
Suddenly Sam found himself thrown into the fireplace, and before he knew what had happened he was spinning through the Floo Network and landing on his knees in front of the grate at Malfoy Manor.
Sam felt distinctly sick to his stomach and knew the beginnings of a bruise were forming on the back of his skull.
And he had thought his first encounter with Ron Weasley had been bad…
.
As Sam got to his feet, the Malfoy's house-elf Pisky appeared next to him with a loud crack. ('A paid employee, with sick leave, holidays and health care for your information' he had told Rose once)
"Master Sam is home early, should I let Mr and Mrs Malfoy know?"
"Yes thanks Pisky, just tell them I'm going up to my room."
"Of course sir," and Pisky apparated away as quickly as he had come.
Sam trudged from the drawing room up to his bedroom, worry and helplessness still darkening his mind.
What could he do? He'd been forcibly thrown out of their home, so there was no way he could go back, and everyone probably hated him right now anyway.
Sam knew he could count on Albus to know what was happening and write back straight away.
.
Sam quickly scribbled out a letter as fast as he could.
Dear Al,
I'm so sorry for what happened, it was an accident and I hope Rose is all right. Write back as soon as you have any news.
Sam
Sealing up his letter, Sam coaxed his owl Felix off his perch on top of the wardrobe, tied it to his leg and sent him off.
There was nothing else for him to do but wait, and attempt not to think about the horrible occurrences of the day.
.
.
If Sam thought he had had a bad day, his experience was nothing compared to what Ron Weasley received from his wife when she'd found out what he'd done.
Her voice was dangerously low, and she appeared perfectly calm. It was much scarier than her anger…
"You did what? So while I was busy tending to our injured daughter, you were terrorizing a thirteen-year-old boy?"
.
Ron and Hermione were in the living room after having taken Rose up to Ginny's old bedroom to rest after she had regained consciousness.
Al and Hugo were the only ones allowed into her room to ensure she wasn't smothered by over-concerned relatives (*cough*Nana Molly*cough*) and everyone else had flued home – although Bee had wanted to stay, and made Al swear to take his 'don't-let-Rose-fall-asleep-because-she-has-a-concussion' job very seriously.
Al had barely sat down next to Rose's bed when Felix, Sam's owl, appeared at the window.
Rose noticed him first, "Oh, that's Felix. What does Sam want?"
"He probably wants to know how you are because he was the one who hit you with the Bludger."
"Really? The wanker, I'll kill him."
Al laughed lightly as he opened the window to let Felix in, before taking the letter and scanning it quickly.
"What's it say?" Rose questioned, but Al merely scrawled onto the back of the same bit of parchment with a quill and inkpot sitting on the bedside table.
Rose is fine and awake. She had a cracked skull but Aunt Hermione healed that, so now she just has a concussion and isn't allowed to fall asleep for the next twenty-four hours. I'll write if anything else happens,
Al
.
"Al, let me see!"
But Al merely attached the letter back onto Felix's leg and sent off his reply.
"I'm just letting him know you're okay Rose."
Meanwhile Ron was downstairs attempting to defend his actions, "Hermione, he hit Rosie in the back of the head with a Bludger-"
"By accident!" She hissed.
Ron was sitting on the couch, his face having returned to its normal colour, but the tips of his ears were tinged pink in embarrassment as he realised he may have acted rashly.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, but I was scared and worried about Rosie and it was his fault so I just thought-"
"I don't care what you thought Ron, you are going to apologise. Al will owl him to come over for lunch tomorrow and you will say these exact words. 'I Ronald Bilius Weasley am sorry for my irrational and inexcusable behaviour. I understand what happened yesterday was an accident and I hope you can forgive me.' Do you understand?"
"Yes dear."
A few moments later he added, "You know you'd think by now I'd be used to it. But you're bloody scary."
He grinned at her, but Hermione hid her amusement and simply tossed her head before stormed out of the living room to join Ginny in the kitchen, probably to complain about Ron for a good half-hour.
.
.
The next day Sam did come over for lunch to visit Rose, after Al had sent him an invitation on Hermione's orders (he'd never sent a letter so fast in his life, Hermione was scary.)
When Sam appeared in the fireplace at the Burrow at noon he was greeted by Al and a very awkward-looking Ron Weasley.
Ron nodded very stiffly to Sam before gruffly mumbling, "Look here, I-"
But a sharp glare from Hermione was enough to silence him, and proceed with her apology, word for word, just as she had decreed.
"Well then. I, Ronald Bilius Weasley, am sorry for my irrational and inexcusable behaviour. I understand what happened yesterday was an accident and I hope you can forgive me."
Sam's eyes darted confusingly from Hermione to Ron, before he speedily gave his own apology, "Oh, it's not a problem. And I'm sorry too, that the accident happened at all."
Al had stuffed his fist into his mouth in order to stop himself from laughing, and before the room got any more awkward, grabbed Sam and dragged him up to Rose's room.
As he opened the door a completely expected, yet welcomed, barrage of swearing reached Sam's ears and he grinned.
"I can't believe you hit me in the back of the head with a Bludger, you sodding idiot! Weren't you fucking looking where you were aiming you worthless pile of bat droppings!"
Well, she was definitely all right then.