"I'm bored," Fred complained.
"Me too," George sulked. But his expression changed as a figurative light bulb lit up. He jumped up, grinning devilishly. "I got an idea."
"What?" Fred just had to know. "Tell me, tell me!"
George whispered his plan into his twin's ear.
"Genius," Fred cackled.
"Hello, Ron!"
The twins went into their younger brother's room, where he was humming and drawing on some parchment paper. They leveled out their facial expressions as to not give their plan away. It was difficult, but they managed. Ron glanced up at them briefly, but was disinterested and went back to what he was doing.
"What are you doing, there?" Fred asked.
"Drawing," came the reply. He was going to need a new crayon, by the way he was aggressively pushing on it.
"Drawing what?" George said.
"A picture," Ron chewed on his bottom lip, "for mummy and daddy."
"You mean our mom and dad?" Fred clarified and barely hid his smirk when Ron's head popped up.
"They're mine too," Ron said, but he didn't look sure. His little eyebrows were furrowed and he momentarily stopped drawing.
"No they're not," George said.
"Yes, they are," Ron looked a little upset.
"No they're not," Fred shook his head, "'cause you're adopted."
Ron's eyes bugged out. "No, I'm not!"
"We thought mum and dad would tell you by now," George frowned.
Ron's lip trembled. "You're lying," he accused in a shaky voice.
"We swear we're not," Fred put a hand on his heart. "Come on, Ron. Haven't you noticed you don't look like the rest of us?"
"Yes, I do," Ron insisted. "I gots red hair, too."
"Mum and dad charmed you to," Fred said with a great deal of fake sympathy. "You didn't look like that when you came here. Mum didn't want you to feel left out so she changed your hair and made you have freckles.
George put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "We're sorry you had to find out like this."
"Are you okay?" Fred said. Ron's eyes brimmed with tears. He gazed down at his half done drawing like he was thoroughly distraught. "Don't worry, Ron. We still like you, even though you're not our real brother."
"Maybe one day you'll find your real family," George said.
Ron only sniffled.
"Now, now," Fred said. "Nothing to get upset about. It's not a big deal. Just don't go 'round telling anyone. Mum and dad don't like talking about it."
"Okay," Ron whispered.
"Well, brother of ours, we'd like to stay-"
"But we've got things to do."
"Tootles!"
When they out of the room, at a safe distance where Ron couldn't hear them, the twins snickered and high fived for a job well done.
Percy was sitting in the grass, Indian style, engrossed in a thick book that Bill had gotten for him while he was in in Hogsmeade. It was quite intriguing, a complete history of Goblins. He was in the midst of turning to the next chapter when he caught site of something in front of him: Ron was lugging the trunk that their dad used sometimes. He was having a bit of trouble moving it; huffing and groaning as he tried.
What on earth? Percy raised his eyebrows and knowing he couldn't just ignore it, he shut his book with a snap and rose to his feet. He went over there with a sigh. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Go away," Ron sniffled. It was then that Percy noticed how red and puffy his younger brother's face was. Instantly, he frowned, concerned.
Percy brushed it off. "Where're you going?"
"Dunno," Ron said, shortly.
"Why are you taking dad's trunk?"
"I'm leaving," Ron declared.
"I can see that," Percy nodded. "But why?"
"You know why," Ron was upset at him for reasons that Percy hadn't discerned yet.
"No," Percy said, patiently, "why don't you tell me?"
"It's 'cause I'm adopted."
"What?" Percy was caught off guard. "What are you talking about?"
Ron repeated his words.
"No, you're not," Percy got on his knees to be at eye level with his brother. "How can you be adopted if you look like us?"
"S'not real," Ron said with melancholy. "Just a spell."
"Who told you this nonsense?" Percy had a clue.
"Fred and George."
Of course they did, Percy thought, exasperatingly. Then, out loud, he said, "Ronnie, you're not adopted. The twins were just messing with you, that's all. Don't listen to them."
"But-" Ron looked conflicted.
"They lied," Percy said, simply. "Come here." He changed his potion to sit down and opened his arms to invite Ron to come sit in his lap. His brother obliged him; pressing his face in the side of Percy's neck. "It's okay," he said, comfortingly.
Ron was quiet for a few minutes. "Percy?"
"Yes?"
"Am I your real brother?"
"Yes," Percy smiled, tenderly. "Wanna know a secret?"
Ron perked up somewhat.
"You're my favorite brother."
"I am?" Ron blinked, astounded.
"You are," Percy confirmed. "But you can't tell Bill or Charlie, okay?"
"Why not?" Ron tilted his head.
"Don't wanna hurt their feelings," Percy explained.
"Oh," Ron got it. "Okay."
Percy ruffled his brother's hair. "How about I help you take dad's trunk back up and we'll play some chess?"
"Four games?" Ron peeked up at him, hopefully.
Percy pretended to think about it. "Okay," he agreed.
Ron shifted, throwing his arms around Percy's neck. "Love you," he mumbled.
"Love you too," Percy hugged him back.
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