After Harry's rather unexpected and quite unorthodox arrival at the
Weasley's at the beginning of the summer, things quickly settled down into
the normal abnormality at the Burrow. A month had passed already, and as
far as Molly could tell, Harry was doing just fine. The bruises were
nearly gone and the two ribs had healed with the aid of a little bit of
Skele-Mend paste. Harry had also put on about ten pounds and no longer
looked like the skeleton on the bottle of Skele-Mend. Mrs. Weasley's
cooking could definitely add a bit of weight to a boy.
So far neither she nor Arthur had heard a thing from the horrid Dursleys and hopefully it would stay that way. Since she was not a very mean-spirited person, Molly found it hard to wish evil things upon most people, but she could very easily wish them on Vernon. She wasn't sure if he'd even qualify as a person. She heard a racket flying down the steps and smiled as she saw it was Ron and Harry. "Help yourselves to some muffins, boys. They're delicious."
Molly wasn't kidding. Harry picked one up and could already taste the blueberry before it was in his mouth. He and Ron were quickly wolfing them down. "You two aren't going to burn the house down while I'm gone today, are you?" Molly asked for the twentieth time since yesterday. She *almost* trusted Ron, *almost*.
"Yes, mum, we'll be just fine. I promise. We won't burn it down."
"Yeah mum, Ronnikins couldn't start a fire if he wanted to," Fred said as the twins walked in the kitchen and after grabbing a few muffins, headed out the back door.
"I'll show you a fire, you prat!" Ron spat as he scrambled out of his chair. He might have made it to the two if Harry hadn't grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him back down.
"Ronald, you know that if you didn't react to them, they'd stop." his mother said.
"Um… what planet are you from? They most certainly would not," he responded, wincing as she called him 'Ronald.'
"Are you two sure you don't want to come with me and Ginny to Dover today? We most likely won't be more than a few hours."
"No, we'll be fine here," Harry and Ron said almost simultaneously. Neither of them wanted to go along on a journey to look at new magicked upholstery fabrics (even if they were guaranteed to repel every known stain and some that aren't known yet), much less in *Dover*.
"Suit yourselves then. Ginny!! Come on dear, it's time to go. Remember Ronald, don't burn the house down, right?"
"Mu-uuum! Don't worry. Go already." Ron was shaking his head and Harry
was grinning like the Cheshire cat as Ginny came bounding down the steps and joined her mother at the fireplace.
Molly looked as if she was going to say more, but decided against it and stepped into the fireplace after Ginny.
"Oh!! She drives me absolutely nutters sometimes, Harry."
"But Ron-ald," Harry giggled, "she only does it because she cares."
"Arggg!" Ron grinned out, chucking the remains of a muffin at Harry.
"So Ron, wha do you wan 'o do to'ay?" Harry asked with his mouth absolutely crammed with muffiny goodness.
"Well, we could go up to the field and fly our brooms."
"We did that yesterday, and the day before, and, I believe, yes, the day before that. How about something else. What have you never done?"
"I've never put my head in a lion's mouth, or climbed a mountain, streaked around the house, or seen the Cannons win a game."
Harry smacked his palm against his forehead after that. "Ron, I meant around here. Have you ever been into town?"
"Into town?"
"Yes Ron, that mass of building that have congregated about two miles down the road from your house."
"Oh, well, no, actually I haven't."
"Well, then why don't we go into town for the afternoon? You can see how all the weird Muggles do things. We'll even stop and get a hamburger for lunch."
"What's a handburger?"
"Oh, yeah, we definitely need to go to the city," Harry said, and then quickly started rethinking the brilliance of his idea as in his mind's eye he saw Ron pointing at each and every single thing on the streets…
"Okay, we'll go, now what's a handburger?"
"Get changed Ron, I'll show you when we get there."
..A short while later after Harry and Ron get dressed and walk the two miles into town…
"…And what's that over there?"
"That is a mail box. Muggles put letters in it."
"Do the owls like that, being stuck in a box and all?"
"Ron, Muggles don't use owls, remember? They use postmen."
"Oh, right, right. What's that over there? What do all those X's mean on that book store?"
"Umm, that means that, um, that the store closes extra, extra, extra early. That's why the shades are already drawn." Harry nearly laughed out loud as he got the second part out (it struck the author as pretty funny, too!) and had to turn away to compose himself. "Have the Cannons really never won a game?" Harry asked to change the quickly change the subject. What a bookstore like that was for was one of the few things that he had learned from Dudley. He was going to mentally thank the fat boy, when he remembered the rest of the conversation in which the meaning had been learned. Instead, he shivered. ICK.
As they walked through town on the beautiful early afternoon, Ron was in complete amazement at the sight of traffic lights, a hot dog vendor, and a gas station.
"This is bloody awesome Harry!
"It all seems so, well, *normal*, doesn't it, Ron?" Ron nodded in agreement and his stomach also gave its assent.
"I think that's it's about time that I showed you what a hamburger is."
"Can we do it after we eat, I'm starving now."
"Come on, you eat a hamburger, we can get one in that shop up there."
"Harry, we don't have any Muggle money, so how are we going to pay for it?"
"When we last went to Hogsmead, I changed a bit of coins for some pounds, just in case I had to make a hasty exit from the Dursleys. Good foresight, huh?"
"You'd make Hermione proud, you would. Let's go get a handburger."
"Hamburger."
"Right."
The boys crossed one final street and made their way into a small establishment known by the green hanging sign as Finnigan's Grill. "Do you think we'll see.."
"No, Seamus won't be here," Harry finished for him.
They walked in and found the establishment to be nearly empty. There was a big bunch of televisions on one wall, and nearly each table had a smaller set on it. There were pictures of rugby and football players all over the walls, as well as the occasional cricket and lacrosse sticks. Yes, they had wandered into a sports bar.
"No quiddich, I see, but are those telly-visions?"
"Yes they are." Harry answered as a host took them to their table. In the middle was a remote control, and Harry spoke again. "Now I'll show you the greatest Muggle invention of all, cable." Ron immediately looked to the rafters for ropes. "No, Ron, pointing to the tv, right here."
Harry picked up the remote and felt the surge of power that shoots through all males when they possess this most holiest of all objects (one remote to rule them all, one remote to find them, one remote to sit them on the couch and to the television bind them- ha!). Anyway he started flicking through the channels and the waitress walked up. Harry ordered two hamburgers and fries and two cokes. She left, snapping her gum. With great reluctance, Harry gave the remote to Ron. He flipped through the 200 sports channels and stopped on a hockey game.
"What are they…are they floating?"
"No, they're skating on ice."
"Are those their broomsticks?"
"Close, hockey sticks. They hit the puck with them."
Harry spent the next few minutes explaining hockey to the enthralled redhead. Ron was beginning to think it was a little boring until there was a huge fight. Gloves were tossed; it was so much better than a rugby scrum because they had sticks.
A commercial break came on and as they were leaving the arena, the announcer said that the Mighty Ducks were losing 5-0. "What kind of fear inspiring name is 'Mighty Ducks?'" Ron asked. Harry only shook his head as he thought back to his midnight escapades watching television while the Dursleys slept upstairs. Vernon had all the channels, including quite a few from America. ESPN, one of Harry's favorites was. He had fallen in love with hockey for its quiddich-like gracefulness and skill (plus the author loves it too- go Redwings!).
The food arrived, the gum snapping waitress left and Ron wasn't exactly sure how to go about eating the hamburger. He reached for a fork when he saw Harry pick it up and dig in.
The next five minutes were filled with grotesque sounds of Ron's eating pleasure. Mrs. Weasley was into healthy meals, so a greasy hamburger had never disgraced her plates. Ron was loving every bite. He also greatly enjoyed the soda, once again, never in the Weasley residence.
They finished their meals and Harry paid the check and they headed back to the Burrow, Ron intent on getting his mum to make a 'handburger' tonight.
That was fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it. I picture Ron like a five year old at Disney World for the first time - in awe of the concrete he walks on. I was watching a hockey game Saturday and decided that it was a bit similar to quiddich, so in the story it goes.
energy
(having way too much fun with Ron's naivete' for his own good)
So far neither she nor Arthur had heard a thing from the horrid Dursleys and hopefully it would stay that way. Since she was not a very mean-spirited person, Molly found it hard to wish evil things upon most people, but she could very easily wish them on Vernon. She wasn't sure if he'd even qualify as a person. She heard a racket flying down the steps and smiled as she saw it was Ron and Harry. "Help yourselves to some muffins, boys. They're delicious."
Molly wasn't kidding. Harry picked one up and could already taste the blueberry before it was in his mouth. He and Ron were quickly wolfing them down. "You two aren't going to burn the house down while I'm gone today, are you?" Molly asked for the twentieth time since yesterday. She *almost* trusted Ron, *almost*.
"Yes, mum, we'll be just fine. I promise. We won't burn it down."
"Yeah mum, Ronnikins couldn't start a fire if he wanted to," Fred said as the twins walked in the kitchen and after grabbing a few muffins, headed out the back door.
"I'll show you a fire, you prat!" Ron spat as he scrambled out of his chair. He might have made it to the two if Harry hadn't grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him back down.
"Ronald, you know that if you didn't react to them, they'd stop." his mother said.
"Um… what planet are you from? They most certainly would not," he responded, wincing as she called him 'Ronald.'
"Are you two sure you don't want to come with me and Ginny to Dover today? We most likely won't be more than a few hours."
"No, we'll be fine here," Harry and Ron said almost simultaneously. Neither of them wanted to go along on a journey to look at new magicked upholstery fabrics (even if they were guaranteed to repel every known stain and some that aren't known yet), much less in *Dover*.
"Suit yourselves then. Ginny!! Come on dear, it's time to go. Remember Ronald, don't burn the house down, right?"
"Mu-uuum! Don't worry. Go already." Ron was shaking his head and Harry
was grinning like the Cheshire cat as Ginny came bounding down the steps and joined her mother at the fireplace.
Molly looked as if she was going to say more, but decided against it and stepped into the fireplace after Ginny.
"Oh!! She drives me absolutely nutters sometimes, Harry."
"But Ron-ald," Harry giggled, "she only does it because she cares."
"Arggg!" Ron grinned out, chucking the remains of a muffin at Harry.
"So Ron, wha do you wan 'o do to'ay?" Harry asked with his mouth absolutely crammed with muffiny goodness.
"Well, we could go up to the field and fly our brooms."
"We did that yesterday, and the day before, and, I believe, yes, the day before that. How about something else. What have you never done?"
"I've never put my head in a lion's mouth, or climbed a mountain, streaked around the house, or seen the Cannons win a game."
Harry smacked his palm against his forehead after that. "Ron, I meant around here. Have you ever been into town?"
"Into town?"
"Yes Ron, that mass of building that have congregated about two miles down the road from your house."
"Oh, well, no, actually I haven't."
"Well, then why don't we go into town for the afternoon? You can see how all the weird Muggles do things. We'll even stop and get a hamburger for lunch."
"What's a handburger?"
"Oh, yeah, we definitely need to go to the city," Harry said, and then quickly started rethinking the brilliance of his idea as in his mind's eye he saw Ron pointing at each and every single thing on the streets…
"Okay, we'll go, now what's a handburger?"
"Get changed Ron, I'll show you when we get there."
..A short while later after Harry and Ron get dressed and walk the two miles into town…
"…And what's that over there?"
"That is a mail box. Muggles put letters in it."
"Do the owls like that, being stuck in a box and all?"
"Ron, Muggles don't use owls, remember? They use postmen."
"Oh, right, right. What's that over there? What do all those X's mean on that book store?"
"Umm, that means that, um, that the store closes extra, extra, extra early. That's why the shades are already drawn." Harry nearly laughed out loud as he got the second part out (it struck the author as pretty funny, too!) and had to turn away to compose himself. "Have the Cannons really never won a game?" Harry asked to change the quickly change the subject. What a bookstore like that was for was one of the few things that he had learned from Dudley. He was going to mentally thank the fat boy, when he remembered the rest of the conversation in which the meaning had been learned. Instead, he shivered. ICK.
As they walked through town on the beautiful early afternoon, Ron was in complete amazement at the sight of traffic lights, a hot dog vendor, and a gas station.
"This is bloody awesome Harry!
"It all seems so, well, *normal*, doesn't it, Ron?" Ron nodded in agreement and his stomach also gave its assent.
"I think that's it's about time that I showed you what a hamburger is."
"Can we do it after we eat, I'm starving now."
"Come on, you eat a hamburger, we can get one in that shop up there."
"Harry, we don't have any Muggle money, so how are we going to pay for it?"
"When we last went to Hogsmead, I changed a bit of coins for some pounds, just in case I had to make a hasty exit from the Dursleys. Good foresight, huh?"
"You'd make Hermione proud, you would. Let's go get a handburger."
"Hamburger."
"Right."
The boys crossed one final street and made their way into a small establishment known by the green hanging sign as Finnigan's Grill. "Do you think we'll see.."
"No, Seamus won't be here," Harry finished for him.
They walked in and found the establishment to be nearly empty. There was a big bunch of televisions on one wall, and nearly each table had a smaller set on it. There were pictures of rugby and football players all over the walls, as well as the occasional cricket and lacrosse sticks. Yes, they had wandered into a sports bar.
"No quiddich, I see, but are those telly-visions?"
"Yes they are." Harry answered as a host took them to their table. In the middle was a remote control, and Harry spoke again. "Now I'll show you the greatest Muggle invention of all, cable." Ron immediately looked to the rafters for ropes. "No, Ron, pointing to the tv, right here."
Harry picked up the remote and felt the surge of power that shoots through all males when they possess this most holiest of all objects (one remote to rule them all, one remote to find them, one remote to sit them on the couch and to the television bind them- ha!). Anyway he started flicking through the channels and the waitress walked up. Harry ordered two hamburgers and fries and two cokes. She left, snapping her gum. With great reluctance, Harry gave the remote to Ron. He flipped through the 200 sports channels and stopped on a hockey game.
"What are they…are they floating?"
"No, they're skating on ice."
"Are those their broomsticks?"
"Close, hockey sticks. They hit the puck with them."
Harry spent the next few minutes explaining hockey to the enthralled redhead. Ron was beginning to think it was a little boring until there was a huge fight. Gloves were tossed; it was so much better than a rugby scrum because they had sticks.
A commercial break came on and as they were leaving the arena, the announcer said that the Mighty Ducks were losing 5-0. "What kind of fear inspiring name is 'Mighty Ducks?'" Ron asked. Harry only shook his head as he thought back to his midnight escapades watching television while the Dursleys slept upstairs. Vernon had all the channels, including quite a few from America. ESPN, one of Harry's favorites was. He had fallen in love with hockey for its quiddich-like gracefulness and skill (plus the author loves it too- go Redwings!).
The food arrived, the gum snapping waitress left and Ron wasn't exactly sure how to go about eating the hamburger. He reached for a fork when he saw Harry pick it up and dig in.
The next five minutes were filled with grotesque sounds of Ron's eating pleasure. Mrs. Weasley was into healthy meals, so a greasy hamburger had never disgraced her plates. Ron was loving every bite. He also greatly enjoyed the soda, once again, never in the Weasley residence.
They finished their meals and Harry paid the check and they headed back to the Burrow, Ron intent on getting his mum to make a 'handburger' tonight.
That was fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it. I picture Ron like a five year old at Disney World for the first time - in awe of the concrete he walks on. I was watching a hockey game Saturday and decided that it was a bit similar to quiddich, so in the story it goes.
energy
(having way too much fun with Ron's naivete' for his own good)