AN: Romione Week, Day 4: A Different Perspective

Featherstone the flamingo has waited a long time for a new family to move into his cottage. Will Ron and Hermione give him the love he so desperately desires?

The moment he stirs from his sleep, Featherstone knows that it won't be a typical day, although he can't quite put his wing on it. He has been waiting too long in the overgrown grass at Primrose Cottage, watching the other birds fly past him in the sky and ignoring the squirrels as they nibble at his legs.

This morning, something else is in the air; a certain kind of magic.

He shakes the money spider off his head then turns to face the battered wooden gate, ignoring the ache that comes from not having moved for a while. The white paint is flaking, but something is coming. He can feel it in his beak—a surge of static electricity travelling straight to the tip.

⁂

He doesn't have to wait for long. When the sun hits the crumbling old sundial, making the pointer cast shade over the number nine, the air in front of the garden ripples. Two loud pops shatter the peace, and a couple appears as if out of thin air. They're holding hands, and once they've found their balance, they turn their heads towards each other and share a kiss before gazing upon the cottage.

"See, what did I tell you, Hermione?" The man talking has flaming red hair, and freckles cover his pale forearms. He's tall and gangly but moves with someone who is used to his overextended limbs. Most importantly, to Featherstone, at least, the man looks friendly.

Hermione taps her lips twice, looking as if she's thinking. When the man tugs on her arm, she laughs. Her voice is still full of delight when she replies, "Okay, okay. For once you were right. Sure, it needs a bit of work, but a little bit of magic will sort it out, I'm sure. It'll be a great project for you and your dad. Plus, it's far enough away from the Burrow that we won't have your mother around all the time."

"As long as we block up the Floo." He chuckles before his face grows serious. "What do you say then? Reckon it's worth a trip to the estate agent, see if we can get inside? I've heard there are four bedrooms, perfect for… well, y'know…." He spreads his hand over Hermione's flat stomach, a proud grin filling his face from ear to ear.

"Four?! We said this one would be the only one."

"We'll see. So what do you think?"

She watches the man for a moment before letting out a loud squeal and throwing her arms around his neck. He responds by wrapping his arms around her, capturing her lips in a long kiss.

"Yes!" Hermione exclaims when they pull apart. "It's brilliant, Ron. Thank you!"

After another kiss, the couple disappear as quickly as they appeared, only one pop signalling their exit this time.

Although their visit was short, the prospect of the neglected cottage getting the attention it deserves fills Featherstone's heart with glee. It's been far too long since a family has lived here, and he's so excited, he could dance.

They'll fit right in with the rest of the place.

With a happy sigh, he settles down and closes his eyes, determined to enjoy the sun on his pink skin and the long blades of grass as they tickle his legs.

⁂

The couple pays a few more visits to the house, bringing different people with them every time. With every trip, Hermione's stomach grows bigger, much to Featherstone's excitement. A proper family. Oh, he cannot wait.

A month or so after their first time, as the spring turns into summer, Ron and Hermione arrive with an army of redheads (and a man whose hair is as dark as the blackest stone in the garden). They pull boxes and boxes out of nowhere, although every time Hermione tries to lift one, Ron hurries over to stop her.

"I'm not an invalid, Ron!" She stomps her foot, and Featherstone worries his happiness might be over before it's even begun.

"I know you're not, love." Ron places his hands on her shoulders before kissing her. "I just think you'll be better at keeping us organised. Tell us where everything should go. Plus, you need to put all the charms in place to protect our shit from the elements. I don't know why we thought moving in before we fix up the place was a good idea."

Seeming placated, Hermione gets to work, conducting the cacophony with a smile on her face.

After helping himself to a box, the shortest redhead glances up at the house, a frown appearing on his face. "It's a bit of a dump though, mate. I thought you and Hermione got a massive sum from the Ministry after the you-know-what?"

Featherstone's temperature grows in anger. The man is lucky he's not closer, or the bird would peck him to death. It might be dilapidated, but Primrose cottage is home.

"We did," Ron replies, "but that doesn't mean we don't want to waste it all straight away. The baby needs a lot of stuff. Anyway, you can talk, George, aren't you still living in that shithole of a flat above the shop?"

"Yep! And it suits me fine."

Deciding to forgive George for now, Featherstone gets back to watching the move. It's the best day he's ever had, even counting the day the last occupants built a snowman. Not only is he getting a massive family, but they're friendly and full of colour and life. Sure, the group loves to swear, and there's something not quite right about them, but Featherstone doesn't care.

As the hours pass, and the collection of cardboard boxes at the front of the garden grows smaller, Featherstone learns the family members' names. Aside from Ron, Hermione and George, there's Harry (the black-haired man) and Ginny, Harry's beau. Then there are a lot of siblings—George, Percy, Charlie and Bill. And last but not least, there are Ron's parents, Mum and Dad. It's the largest family Featherstone has ever seen, but he thinks he can handle them.

Once the sun sets behind the house and the rest of the boxes are inside, Ron and Hermione say goodbye to everyone else. As the last of the family disappears, the couple leans against the rotting gate, looking up at the cottage to survey it, their arms wrapped around each other. They share a kiss, then let out a happy sigh.

Featherstone sighs too.

"I think I'm going to like it here, Ron," she says, resting her head against his shoulders.

"Me too, love."

Me too.

⁂

The following days pass in a flurry of activity. Bit by bit (and with the help of Dad), the couple restores the cottage to its former glory. They patch the gaps in the slate roof, replace the glass in the windows and fix every inch of wonky wood. They paint everywhere, including the white picket fence.

Soon, the house becomes a home. Hermione hangs bright curtains, and the smell of delicious home-cooked meals fills the air. The couple leaves regularly, always returning with boxes and bags packed with stuff. Featherstone enjoys those afternoons the most, as it means he can spend the time getting glimpses of the furniture Ron and Hermione are putting up around the house.

There are bad days, too. Days when neither of them leaves the house. Days when the plumbing breaks or the Floo doesn't work.

Ron and Hermione bicker a lot on those days, their raised voices playing out through open windows. Panic washes over Featherstone. He doesn't want the couple to fall apart, like so many others who lived at the cottage. Ron and Hermione are loud and fight with more passion than Featherstone has ever known, and on more than one occasion, he worries that it'll be the final straw.

But the arguments never last that long, and soon enough, whispered words of love replace the shouting, putting the bird back at ease.

⁂

Soon it's time for the couple to start on the garden and the grounds. On their first day outside, they take their time to survey it all. Hermione jots down their ideas on a notepad and a pencil as they traverse the entire land. More than once, she complains that he's walking too fast.

She almost trips over Featherstone when they get to him, and the flamingo tries his hardest not to feel hurt that she didn't notice him. Fortunately, he doesn't flinch, keeping his firm guard over the garden. If he had a stomach, a hundred butterflies would be fluttering through it right now.

"Oh he's cute," Hermione says, patting the flamingo on the head.

Ron wrinkles up his nose. "Really? We're not keeping him."

He prods Featherstone with his foot. It doesn't hurt, but the excitement the bird was feeling dissolves into anxiety.

What if they don't like him? What if they pull him up and throw him away? He's not too sure he could handle that. Being shoved at the back of the shed is a fate worse than death. Rose Cottage is the only home he's ever known. Plus, there are seagulls at the rubbish tip.

Hermione cocks her head to one side. "I don't know, I kind of like him. But he could do with brightening up."

"Don't you think he's a little tacky looking?"

"I never thought I'd have to persuade you to keep a plastic pink flamingo, Ronald. I thought you liked this sort of thing? Plus the baby will love him."

Ron sighs, then turns his attention back to Featherstone, scrutinising him. His gaze is hot enough to melt the plastic bird, but he tries his best to stand a little taller and make himself look like he's worth keeping.

"Fine," the redhead sighs. "For the baby. But you have to look after him."

Hermione giggles then kisses him. "Thank you."

⁂

The following morning, she appears in front of Featherstone with a bucket of soapy water and a tin of paint. As Hermione works, she tells the flamingo all about her life before she and Ron moved to the cottage, including how they got together after forever, and Featherstone falls even more in love with her.

She's interrupted when a big, ginger, grumpy looking cat appears. He sniffs at the lawn ornament before lifting his paw to swat at it.

"Crookshanks, no!" Hermione pulls the animal away before he can do any damage. "This is our friend, not our enemy."

"That cat hates everyone," Ron bellows over the noise of the lawnmower.

She laughs and shouts back, "Only people he doesn't trust."

Featherstone yearns to tell her that they can trust him. After all, he can't speak, so there's no way he can spill their secrets. But he remains quiet and enjoys the feel of the paintbrush tickling his plastic shell.

It takes Hermione a few hours, but when she's finished, she plants Featherstone back in the ground then steps back to admire her work. Her belly is enormous now, and it can't be that long until the baby comes.

"Well, don't you look handsome."

"Thanks, love."

With one last glance at Featherstone, she waddles off, probably to chastise her husband. But the flamingo doesn't mind. He only wishes he had a puddle to see Hermione's handiwork for himself.

None of his other families have ever treated him with this much love.

That night, when the stars are shining bright in the sky, and after Crookshanks has come for a secondary investigation of Featherstone, the pink flamingo wheezes out a happy sigh then nestles his legs further into the warm, dry soil.

The quiet doesn't last for long, as a flurry of activity comes from within the house.

Hermione calls in a quiet voice, "Ron, the baby is coming," then the lights around the cottage turn on and off as the couple hurry around. A final green glow comes from the downstairs window then the home is quiet and dark once more.

This time, Featherstone isn't worried. A baby brings with it joy and love, the things he loves the most.

When his last family deserted him, he thought that was it, that they had doomed him to an eternal life of growing green and mouldy in the rain. If he had to wait any longer, he would have surely disintegrated, like the flowers and bushes around him.

But his new family, the Granger-Weasleys, if the name on the postbox is anything to go by, have taught him that even an old piece of plastic can have a new lease of life.

All it takes is love and a lick of pink paint.