Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has to do with Harry Potter or have any association with its publishers or distributors and I do not profit from writing fanfiction.
Ron rubbed his groggy eyes as he stepped out of bed and walked down the staircase of the new number twelve, Grimmauld Place, observing with amazement how much Kreacher was able to change around the house. The living room had become not only inhabitable, but likeable; its cardinal wallpaper, soft red armchairs, and other eye candy had much more warmth than rest of the old dreary house. Harry was sipping tea from a silver goblet, and Ron noticed that its decorative serpentine handle had been magicked off.
"Morning, Ron," said Harry. Ron grunted. "I was just contemplating replacing the door-knocker with a lion's head holding a dead snake in its mouth. How's that?"
"Sounds good, mate," said Ron absentmindedly, stretching his arms until his elbows cracked. "Hello, Sirius."
"Good morning, Ron," said Sirius. He then turned to Harry and said, "You know, I'm beginning to regret using Muggle posters. As a portrait, I can't enter Muggle posters..."
Ron grinned, walked past a sniggering Harry towards the kitchen, and plopped down on a kitchen chair. He rested his elbows on the table and his head in his hands, feeling sapped of energy and tenderness in all of his senses; his transformation was near. A plate of pink strips of steak was immediately thrust onto the table before him by a lively Kreacher, who then began washing dishes in his white apron and mushroom-shaped chef's hat. Ron marveled at Kreacher's thoughtfulness.
"Good timing," said Ron, feeling more awake with each bite he took.
"Think nothing of it, Master Ronald, yes... Ronald enjoys his meat raw on the eve of the moon..."
After finishing his steak and depositing his dish in the sink, Ron joined Harry and Sirius in the living room. Harry was attempting to transfigure the house's ordinary door-knocker into the head of a lion with little success. Ron had just sat on the couch and propped his feet up on a black coffee table when a flash of white light swept through the room. A luminous silver otter emerged from the light, swimming in mid-air, inspecting the changes Harry and Ron had made to the room.
"It was Harry's idea!" said Ron automatically.
"What on earth is this, Ronald?" spoke the otter in Hermione's voice, having discovered the Muggle posters. "This one isn't even clothed!"
"Blame Harry!"
Sirius was laughing riotously in his portrait, while Harry was chuckling similarly on the couch. Ron suspected if Sirius were there in the flesh, he would have given Harry a high five. Grumbling, Ron turned to the otter.
"What do you want anyway, Hermione?"
"Don't you take that tone with me, you pervert!"
Ron felt very silly being scolded by a floating white otter.
"It's just, I think you should come back," said Hermione's Patronus. "Hang on—is that—Sirius! You have a portrait!"
"Of course," said the painted Sirius Black. "The world needs my beautiful face, after all."
"That's wonderful!" gasped Hermione, and Sirius smiled. Hermione's otter looked around the room once more, spotting the new wallpaper and Gryffindor banner. "So, Ron, you whinge to no end when I ask you to help decorate a simple Christmas tree, but you'll go and do a whole room for Harry when you don't have to?"
"He might not gripe at all if you use ornaments that are a bit more like that," said Sirius from his portrait, pointing to one of the Muggle posters.
"It's not that," said Ron. "Harry did need it. It was far too depressing the way it was before."
"Honestly," tutted the otter. "Won't you two come back? Ginny won't admit it, but she feels bad about how she's acted. It's important to communicate, isn't it, Ron?"
"Er, yeah," said Ron. "Communication and honesty are key."
Sirius snorted.
"Fine, I'll come back," said Harry circumspectly. "Just give me a moment."
The otter vanished with one last scowl towards Ron. Harry turned to Sirius.
"Is this good?"
"Very good," said Sirius. "Be sure to tell her you missed her, but don't say you're sorry, of course."
"Why not?" asked Ron. Sirius shook his head with a pitying look.
"Because, if you say you're sorry, she'll start thinking something along the lines of 'yeah, you'd better be sorry.' You'll lose all control and be subject to endless ribbing and scolding in the future. This incident will have been remembered as a problem caused solely by you."
"That's..." said Ron, looking up to the ceiling as if attempting to look into his own mind for the right words. "It's brilliant!"
Harry looked skeptical. "I'm not trying to be some sort of womanizer, Sirius."
"Nor have I ever," replied Sirius with a smile.
"You suggested I try to have both!"
"I was just making you aware of your options."
"I've got a question of my own, Sirius," said Ron, his cheeks turning red. "How do you get a girl to, y'know..."
"What?"
"Well if you've never... y'know, if she's never... but if you were in a war and it seems silly that you haven't..."
"I think I've figured out what you mean," said Sirius with amusement. "Are you sure she's never..."
"She'd better have never!"
"Don't be stupid," said Harry. "You've got more experience than her, mate."
"Well that's comforting, as I've none, but how do I go about... I mean..."
"If you can't talk about it, Ron, how are you going to do it?" asked Sirius.
"Without conversation," Ron replied.
"Harry!" called Arthur from behind The Burrow. He was using the Locomotor Charm to levitate a massive wrapped Christmas gift to the front yard. "Ron!"
"Blimey, who's that for?" asked Ron, his eyes glued to the shiny red and green wrappings of the gift that was almost as large as he was.
"Harry," said Arthur. "You left before I could give this to you!"
Harry wasn't sure what to make of it; he supposed Ginny had not told her parents about his little commentary on her social life at Hogwarts if he was still to be the recipient of such an extravagant gift. On the other hand, it could contain a caged monster meant to attack Harry as revenge.
"Relashio!" said Harry, whipping his wand through the air.
The wrappings dispersed, revealing a massive jet-black motorcycle with pipes of polished chrome and leather seats. Harry heard a surprised squeak to his side, and looked to see Ron's eyes and grin just as wide as his own. Harry turned to the smiling Arthur and whipped his arms around him, grasping him in a tight hug.
"Thanks, Arthur! Does it still fly?"
"Of course, it's—oh no—quickly, stand in front of it!" Arthur shifted in front of the bike, but it was too late. Molly Weasley was marching down from the Burrow's front door in a flour-stained apron.
"Is that what you've been working on these past months?" she asked dangerously. Arthur shook his head quickly. "Kept it in that charmed crawlspace under the shed so I wouldn't see it, didn't you?"
"No, of course not, Mollywobble—"
"Don't you 'Mollywobbles' me, Arthur. I am absolutely OUTRAGED that you would experiment with this—this Muggle contraption and hand it off to poor young Harry here for him to break his neck!"
"But—"
"Why don't you go back into the house, finish cooking dinner and think, just once, about the consequences of your bloody actions?"
Molly removed her apron and tossed it at her husband so that it wrapped itself around his face by the force of the throw, then turned to Harry.
"Lovely to see you again, dear. There are fresh biscuits in the pantry from this morning."
She smiled and headed back through the front door, past Ginny and Hermione, who had come out to investigate the commotion. Arthur followed, white-faced from the flour sticking to his sweaty forehead. Ron jogged over to Hermione, arms fully outstretched, aiming to scoop her up in a tight hug, but faltered as her only reaction was to cross her arms and give him a McGonagall-strength glare.
"Hey, Hermione," said Ron, awkwardly passing off his hug attempt as a movement to scratch the back of his neck. "Missed you."
"I'm not so sure of that. I'm sure you kept yourself entertained just fine on your own."
"Not really. I was actually forced to read a book—for entertainment—as you can see I'm just miserable without you," said Ron as Harry caught up to them, wheeling Sirius's motorcycle by his side.
"Ooh, with smooth talk like that I can only guess which book he read," said Ginny slyly.
"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.
"Quidditch stuff," said Ron quickly. "There's a whole section in one of my books about memorable quotes in—er—Quidditch cup speeches..."
"Can I borrow it?" asked Hermione suspiciously.
"I've misplaced it. Gone forever, I'm afraid."
"You'll have to buy another," said Ginny. "Luckily I remember the title. It was 'Twelve Ways to Charm—'"
"A crawlspace," Ron blurted. "Borrowed it from my dad," he explained.
By the end of Christmas Break, Harry was feeling optimistic. Sirius's advice on what to tell Ginny appeared to have been effective, and, slowly but surely, he was making progress with her. He had even got her to agree to a ride on his new flying motorbike at midnight. Meanwhile, Ron only managed to dig himself in deeper with Hermione.
"She wasn't even pissed off at me in the first place!" whined Ron as they made their way through Hogsmeade Station towards the Thestral-driven coaches. "This is all your fault!"
"I didn't tell you to suggest that Hermione pose for a poster of her own so you have 'something to look at.'"
Neville was laughing openly at this point with Luna cackling beside him. They had arrived on the train together. Ron fought the urge to hex the both of them into Skrewt food. Ginny and Hermione had stayed behind to retrieve the pets from the train.
"I thought it was a good idea, anyway."
"Ron, we've got to hurry!" said an approaching Hermione, Crookshanks following at her feet. She was also grasping the rattling cage of Pigwidgeon, who was zooming about like a feathered bludger. Ginny came up alongside her carrying Trevor the toad.
The sun had set and the last of its light faded over the horizon in a pink glow. The petals of Ron's starflower were curled severely, indicating the night of the full moon. When the reptilian Thestrals dragged their coach to the front gates of Hogwarts, the tiny Professor Flitwick was waiting to usher Ron to the Whomping Willow. Hermione gave Ron a peck on the cheek, and Ginny's briskness melted with worry as Ron assured her he would be all right.
Harry decided to see Ron to the Whomping Willow; Ron would appreciate the gesture, and, hopefully, so would Ginny. He joined Ron and Professor Flitwick in their march through the driving snow. Little white specks were swirling through the air in the blizzard and Flitwick looked as if he could be swept away by the wind at any moment.
"Oh, no..." rasped Ron, staring at the edge of the forest as they neared the Whomping Willow. "Spiders... spiders again!"
"In here, Mr. Weasley!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, pointing to the tunnel under the temporarily frozen tree's base.
"No, not spiders... that can't be right..." Ron stopped at the trunk, still staring out into the forest, then shook his head and crawled through the passageway to the Shrieking Shack, quickly disappearing into the darkness.
Harry looked towards the forest, tracing the direction of Ron's gaze, but saw nothing. He followed Professor Flitwick back to the Covered Bridge where a crowd of black-robed witches and wizards about Harry's age was gathered, talking and laughing. Flitwick passed through the group and they followed him, but one stayed behind, blocking Harry from entering the bridge.
"Hello, Harry," said Cho Chang. Harry saw her smile from under the hood of her cloak.
"Oh, hey, Cho," said Harry, shifting his feet and glancing around. "How are you?"
"Fine. Did you get my letter? I've just come from the Owlery."
"Yeah, I did," said Harry in a scathing tone, but Cho didn't notice.
"Do you want to go with me to Hogsmeade on your next visit? I've got some time off, and I think we could talk about things—everything—"
"Okay," said Harry, but before he could say 'okay, listen, Cho,' a dark figure scuttling behind her caught his eye.
It was a quadrupedal shadow above the snow, standing as tall as Harry's waist, with nothing but its shining brown eyes visible in the light of the full moon. Harry squinted to distinguish its features, and it lunged at him; he quickly wheeled around and sprinted across the Covered Bridge to draw the creature away from Cho. Harry withdrew his wand and flicked it behind himself, sending bright red curses at his pursuer, hearing only his own incantations and the figure's claws clicking against the wood of the bridge.
When he reached the castle, Harry could no longer hear the creature following him. Hoping desperately that Cho had had the sense to take the safest route down to Hagrid's instead of taking the unidentified creature on by herself, Harry dashed up the shifting grand staircase towards the Gryffindor common room.
"Bowtruckle!" said Harry between heavy breaths once he reached the portrait hole.
"The password has changed," said the Fat Lady. "Perhaps if you'd have been here on time, you'd know that."
"Just let me in!"
"That isn't the password either."
"Why do you have to be so aggravating! You know me!"
"Guess again."
"Need help, Harry?" asked a familiar voice.
Harry turned around to see Parvati Patil standing beside Lavender Brown. Harry nodded and stepped aside.
"Weasley is our king," said Parvati confidently. Lavender giggled for some stupid reason.
"Why, yes," said the Fat Lady, opening herself to the Gryffindor common room. Harry rushed inside, budging Parvati out of the way.
"Thanks!" he called over his shoulder.
Harry hurried towards the Girls Dormitory and scaled the stairs quickly before they could turn into a slide. He had his hand on the doorknob when an invisible force ejected his body from the doorway, slamming him into the opposite wall. He then flopped forward onto the staircase and slid down the slide face-down.
"Bugger," breathed Harry into the cold stone floor. He was brought to his feet by the help of Seamus Finnegan and Dennis Creevey.
"Not a good idea," said Seamus. "The twins couldn't even get in there."
"We went farther than any man in entering the Girls' Dormitories of Hogwarts!" announced Fred from his portrait in a deep tone. Little Con Castle dropped his books in fright.
"What's going on?" asked Hermione as she and Ginny slid down the temporarily smooth staircase of the Girls Dormitory.
"We need to talk," said Harry.
Harry practically dragged the girls up to the Boys Dormitory and asked Dean Thomas to give them some privacy. Dean waggled his eyebrows and winked at Harry before leaving, eliciting a scowl from Hermione. Neville peeked out from behind the curtains of his four-poster bed.
"Should I go too?" he asked.
"No, you're fine," said Harry. He jogged over to his school trunk and withdrew the Marauder's Map. He tapped the tip of his wand on the map, and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Splotches of ink appeared on the parchment and morphed to form an impeccable map of Hogwarts. Small dots on the map indicated the whereabouts of everyone in the school.
"Ron's loose on the grounds," said Harry. The girls gasped and Neville shot up from his bed to take a look at the map over Harry's shoulder.
The four students combed the map thoroughly but could not locate any trace of a blip labeled 'Ron Weasley.'
"But I saw him," said Harry in disbelief. "I saw something, at least. It was by the Stone Circle. I was talking to Cho and it attacked me. It walked on four legs like a dog and had brown eyes."
"Ron has blue eyes," said Neville. "Could it have been Fang?"
"Right!" Harry sighed in relief. "It wasn't Ron—of course it wasn't, it wasn't big enough. It wasn't Fang either; Fang wouldn't chase me over the Covered Bridge."
"How did you outrun it?"
"Hit it with a curse, I suppose."
"I'll alert the Headmistress," said Hermione, before disappearing down the staircase.
"I'll go back to sleep," said Neville, before disappearing behind the curtains of his four-poster bed.
There were a few moments of silence between Harry and Ginny. Soon, Neville's rattling snores could be heard.
"I just ran into her. I didn't go looking for her," said Harry. Ginny raised her eyebrows.
"I didn't say anything." Ginny turned and walked out, shutting the big wooden door with slightly more force than necessary.
After a moment, the door opened again and Dean entered with Seamus behind him. He patted Harry on the shoulder.
"Not all girls are into that sort of thing," he said.
Harry growled and curled up in his bed, drifting off to sleep amidst the laughter of Dean and Seamus.
