First Harry Potter fic. Set in the seventh year, just beacuse I felt like having it then.
With all those Harry Potter fics out there, I find very few where Ron gets a girl. Poor Ron. Here you go, Ron, here's a nice little fic for you.
I wrote this a while ago, so I can't remember if I screwed it up or skipped something or something stupid of me like that. Please, if you find a mistake, tell me and I'll fix it. I think the ages might be wrong...
No idea where this is going. Suggestions are gladly welcomed.
Disclaimer: I don't own Ron (DARN!) or Harry or Hermione or any of those lovely things, all belongs to the genius J.K. Rowling, all except the MacDonnelsons. I own them. I don't own root beer floats either.
You'll note I used the name Meredith again. Not connected in any way, shape, or form to the Meredith in my other story. Just like the name, that's all. I might change it later. Maybe not. Who knows.
I made Meredith too perfect again. Sorry. I hate it when I read stories where the people are too perfect, I don't know why I'm doing it. Shame on me.
I'll do something to her to make her a little more real.
I tried to make the right estimations with the money, I wrote it before I stumbled upon the HP Lexicon.
Bloody, why am I putting all this commentary in here? I'll get on with the story now.
Oh, and I do own the Animagus Reg. Form. Steal it and die.
But if you REALLY want it, just email me and I'll send you the whole thing.
I know I'm talking too much, and you just want to get on with the story (are you even reading this anyway or did you just skip past the authors notes?) but I just wanted to say I highly doubt that seventh-year Harry and Hermione would do a stupid eigth-grade dare like that, but oh well. I couldn't think of anything better.
Chapter 1
Meredith sighed as she walked along the busy London street, wondering on how she could feel so isolated when surrounded by crowds of people. Finally she spotted the old wooden sign of the Leaky Cauldron, a sign that everybody else seemed to not notice, their eyes passing from the on the left to the on the right.
She pushed open the door, and was greeted by the faint smell of butterbeer. Not in the mood for polite chitchat, she smiled at the greetings from the people inside the Leaky Cauldron, making her way quickly to the bak and pushed the back door open and stepped outside the Leaky Cauldron. Oh, which one was that stupid brick, she muttered, trying to remember what her father had told her it was... Ah yes, she said to herself, three up, two across, and tapped the brick above the old trash can with the tip of her wand, a handsome redwood wand which she cherished dearly. Her father had bought the wand for her for her eighth birthday, when he took her to England on a summer vacation, at Ollivander's, here in Diagon Alley. She decided to give the old man a visit and see if he remembered her.
She waited as the wall opened up, larger and larger, until she could step through it to Diagon Alley. The wall closed up behind her, and was surprised at the crowd. When she had seen it last, Diagon Alley had been much less crowded, only about two or three dozen wizards stopping by to replenish their stores of potion ingredients, or witches buying a new cauldron, or something of that sort. Now there seemed to be hundreds of witches and wizards of all shapes and sizes milling about Diagon Alley. Then she realized that it was the school crowd, parents buying school supplies for their children before they went to school. Other than the crowd, Diagon Alley had changed little in the eleven years she had been away. Still the same signs above the shops; "Cauldrons--All Sizes--Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver--Self-Stirring-Collapsible," "Ice Cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor!" "Flourish and Blotts," "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions."
Eyeing the line of parents and their children waiting rather impatiently for their new wands at Ollivander's, Meredith decided to wait until the crowds died down and mothers took their kids home for supper. She smiled at the adorable scene of a pleasant-looking witch and her small son, no more than five of six years old, clutching his new tabby kitten, beaming with pride at being the new owner of a kitten, as well as pride at being entrusted with such responsibilty for a five-year-old. As the little boy and his mother went through the wall to the Leaky Cauldron, the little boy's question of "won't dad be so proud of my kitten?" and his mother's soft reply fading as the wall closed behind them, Meredith's attention was again drawn back to the task at hand, the buying of her own supplies for school. Walking along the narrow, crowded street, she saw that the lines for nearly every shop was just as big as the line for Ollivander's, if not longer. Deciding to wait for the crowd to thin out a little before doing her shopping (Meredith hated crowds above every other thing), Meredith weved her way through the crowd to Florean Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlor to take up space at one of his cafe tables, and try to get some work done on her Animagus application. She sat down and pulled the small book of pages and pages of form to fill out from her bag, as well as her eagle owl feather quill and bottle of dark blue-green ink. She settled back in her chair and tried to shut out the noise of Diagon Alley and read the first paragraph of the form:
Animagus Registration Form
Please answer the following questions as honestly as possible. Their truthfulness will be checked by Ministry Employees of various ministries, and any lies, bluffs, or non-truths of any kind will be severly dealt with.
If you are still a student attending a wizarding school, a fourth, fifth, and sixth page of forms is attached, as well as a seventh page if the person wishing to become Animagus is presently attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. These additional pages are to be filled out, with the same attention to honesty as above.
If there is any question that does not apply to you, mark N/A in the space provided.
For your convienience, the form has been divided into clearly marked and divided sections.
Thank You.
Information on the Person Applying to become Animagus:
Full Name: Meredith Martin MacDonnelson
Age as of January 1st of this year: 17
"Ah, I see a new face at my parlour," a pleasant voice said gamely. Meredith looked up to see a , who she assumed to be Florean Fortesque himself. "I remember every face that comes to my parlour, and I do not recognise yours, miss."
"I've only been here once before, sir, when I was eight."
"Ah, a face can change much over time. Forgive me for not introducing myself, I am Florean Fortesque." Ha. She was right.
"Merdith MacDonnelson. Pleased to meet you," she said, shaking his hand.
"Ah, not the daughter of Thomas MacDonnelson?"
"Yes, sir, I am."
"Ah, Miss Meredith, I am pleased to meet the daughter of one Scotland's finest wizards. Smahing at transiguration, I hear."
"Yes, sir, he is, and enjoys very much turning my cat into cornbread and other such pranks," she replied gamely, causing him to laugh.
"Of course, but I was referring to you, Miss Meredith. I hear you are quite the accomplished young witch."
"Others tell me that, sir, and I like to think of myself as one."
"Pure modesty, I see, Miss Meredith. And what have you there? Already at the studies before school is in session?"
"No, sir, a registration form I have to fill out."
"Aye? For what? Registering for what? You have my curiosity now, Miss Meredith."
"To be an Animagus, sir."
His eyebrows lifted. "Animagus? But you cannot be older than just out of Hogwarts."
"I'm going into my seventh year at Hogwarts, sir, but before I was attending Parksmull School in America?"
"A seventh year, eh? You must be quite the accomplished young witch... " Meredith did not know quite how to respond, so she didn't, only smiled slightly and blushed a bit at his astonishment.
"Aye, well, I will leave you to your form, then, Miss Meredith. Would you like a little something, a sundae, perhaps?" Meredith paused, wondering.
"Do you have root beer floats?"
"What floats?"
She shook her head. "It's a Muggle desert I'm quite fond of. Root beer and vanilla ice cream mixed together."
Florean nodded his head. "Well then, I will let you get some work done on your form. You have quite a ways to go, I see," he said, gesturing to the large booklet that was her Animagus form. She smiled as he dissapeared inside his shop, and she turned her attention once again to her form.
Birthplace: MacDonnelson Castle, Scotland
Father: Thomas James MacDonnelson
Mother: Laurel Aurora Martin MacDonnelson
Laurel paused. Her mother...
"Finishing up homework? Procrastinated to the last moment, I see," another voice said teasingly. Meredith looked up, her eyes falling on the bearer of the voice, a tall red-haired guy with a grin on his face. "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, I'll leave if you want me to," he continued, saying the last sentence quickly.
"Oh, no, no, this stuff is boring as Divinations class," she laughed, gesturing to the small novel that was her forms.
He smiled, looking a little relieved, and sat down opposite her at the small, wrought-iron cafe table. "Quite honestly, I really am sorry if I'm bothering you. Frankly," he said, leaning a little closer to her, "I'm here talking to you on a dare, compliments of my friends over there," he motioned to a pair of students standing by the door of the shop across the way, both trying but failing miserably at trying to look casual and uninterested. "No offense, of course," he added quickly, looking a little worried.
"None taken," she said, and he relaxed. "So what's in this dare for you?"
"I get one of those neat little glass globes with the universe inside. I'll never have to pay attention in Astronomy class again." He smiled at the thought, then looked at Meredith. "You're not from here, are you?" he asked. " From England, I mean."
She shook her head. "No-well, technically I am; I was born in Scotland, but when my... when I was five we moved to the US and I've lived there ever since."
"What brings you to England?"
"My father decided it was high time we moved back into the family estate, and so we moved back to Scotland. I wanted to stay at least one more year and finish up school with all my friends, but we moved anyway."
"So you're a seventh year, then?"
"Yes, you?"
"Yep. Oh, I'm sorry, Ron Weasley," he said, introducing himself.
"Meredith MacDonnelson," she replied, shaking his hand. "Is your father by any chance Arthur Weasley?"
"Yes, he is, in fact. You know him?"
"I will. I have an appointment with him at the Ministry tomorrow afternoon. They won't let me in Hogwarts until I clear some muggle stuff I've bewitched. It's harmless stuff, really, you can't do anything with it unless you're a wizard, so I don't see the big deal."
"It's the principle, I guess. They can't be sure if it's harmless unless you clear it, and we can't have Muggles running around with bewitched chainsaws, now can we?" he said gamely, making Meredith laugh. Ron liked her laugh-it was so open and carefree, and had no hints of uncertainty or any such thing-it seemed to contain nothing but happiness.
"So are you hurriedly finishing up homework that you kept putting off and off and off like I did, or are you getting a headstart like Hermione did?" She smiled. She liked his humour-it wasn't blatantly obvious like some people's were, but it was there nonetheless.
"No, no, this is a form I have to fill out."
"A form the size of a small novel," he commented. "What's it for?"
"It's the registration form for becoming Animagus."
"You? Become an Animagus? But you're only what, eighteen?"
"Seventeen. I suffer from a late birthday."
He smiled, but then continued with his astonished comments. "How'd you even get a form? Dad says there's practically an entire ministry on preventing people from becoming Animagus without the Ministy's permission, and they only give out those forms to the select few."
"RON!" A shout from one of Ron's friend across the way took Ron's attention away from the form, and they both looked over to where they were standing. A plump redheaded witch had joined them, as well as a young witch around fifteen, also redheaded. They were waving to Ron, and the plump witch was yelling something about being home for dinner.
"Cripes," he muttered. "Sorry, I have to go," he said to Meredith, standing up and smiling at her. "It was nice to meet you," he said, shaking her hand again.
"See you at Hogwarts," she said as he turned to leave.
"Oh, that reminds me," he said, whipping back around. "Do you know what house you're in yet?"
"No, Dumbledore wanted to have me sorted the first day of school, after the first years get sorted."
"Do what you can to get into Gryffindor," he said, smiling at her, as he left to join his friends, and what Meredith assumed to be his mother and sister, judging from their hair. She watched them dissapear from view, Ron giving her one last look before a wave of people blocked his view. She sighed and turned back to her form.
With all those Harry Potter fics out there, I find very few where Ron gets a girl. Poor Ron. Here you go, Ron, here's a nice little fic for you.
I wrote this a while ago, so I can't remember if I screwed it up or skipped something or something stupid of me like that. Please, if you find a mistake, tell me and I'll fix it. I think the ages might be wrong...
No idea where this is going. Suggestions are gladly welcomed.
Disclaimer: I don't own Ron (DARN!) or Harry or Hermione or any of those lovely things, all belongs to the genius J.K. Rowling, all except the MacDonnelsons. I own them. I don't own root beer floats either.
You'll note I used the name Meredith again. Not connected in any way, shape, or form to the Meredith in my other story. Just like the name, that's all. I might change it later. Maybe not. Who knows.
I made Meredith too perfect again. Sorry. I hate it when I read stories where the people are too perfect, I don't know why I'm doing it. Shame on me.
I'll do something to her to make her a little more real.
I tried to make the right estimations with the money, I wrote it before I stumbled upon the HP Lexicon.
Bloody, why am I putting all this commentary in here? I'll get on with the story now.
Oh, and I do own the Animagus Reg. Form. Steal it and die.
But if you REALLY want it, just email me and I'll send you the whole thing.
I know I'm talking too much, and you just want to get on with the story (are you even reading this anyway or did you just skip past the authors notes?) but I just wanted to say I highly doubt that seventh-year Harry and Hermione would do a stupid eigth-grade dare like that, but oh well. I couldn't think of anything better.
Chapter 1
Meredith sighed as she walked along the busy London street, wondering on how she could feel so isolated when surrounded by crowds of people. Finally she spotted the old wooden sign of the Leaky Cauldron, a sign that everybody else seemed to not notice, their eyes passing from the on the left to the on the right.
She pushed open the door, and was greeted by the faint smell of butterbeer. Not in the mood for polite chitchat, she smiled at the greetings from the people inside the Leaky Cauldron, making her way quickly to the bak and pushed the back door open and stepped outside the Leaky Cauldron. Oh, which one was that stupid brick, she muttered, trying to remember what her father had told her it was... Ah yes, she said to herself, three up, two across, and tapped the brick above the old trash can with the tip of her wand, a handsome redwood wand which she cherished dearly. Her father had bought the wand for her for her eighth birthday, when he took her to England on a summer vacation, at Ollivander's, here in Diagon Alley. She decided to give the old man a visit and see if he remembered her.
She waited as the wall opened up, larger and larger, until she could step through it to Diagon Alley. The wall closed up behind her, and was surprised at the crowd. When she had seen it last, Diagon Alley had been much less crowded, only about two or three dozen wizards stopping by to replenish their stores of potion ingredients, or witches buying a new cauldron, or something of that sort. Now there seemed to be hundreds of witches and wizards of all shapes and sizes milling about Diagon Alley. Then she realized that it was the school crowd, parents buying school supplies for their children before they went to school. Other than the crowd, Diagon Alley had changed little in the eleven years she had been away. Still the same signs above the shops; "Cauldrons--All Sizes--Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver--Self-Stirring-Collapsible," "Ice Cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor!" "Flourish and Blotts," "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions."
Eyeing the line of parents and their children waiting rather impatiently for their new wands at Ollivander's, Meredith decided to wait until the crowds died down and mothers took their kids home for supper. She smiled at the adorable scene of a pleasant-looking witch and her small son, no more than five of six years old, clutching his new tabby kitten, beaming with pride at being the new owner of a kitten, as well as pride at being entrusted with such responsibilty for a five-year-old. As the little boy and his mother went through the wall to the Leaky Cauldron, the little boy's question of "won't dad be so proud of my kitten?" and his mother's soft reply fading as the wall closed behind them, Meredith's attention was again drawn back to the task at hand, the buying of her own supplies for school. Walking along the narrow, crowded street, she saw that the lines for nearly every shop was just as big as the line for Ollivander's, if not longer. Deciding to wait for the crowd to thin out a little before doing her shopping (Meredith hated crowds above every other thing), Meredith weved her way through the crowd to Florean Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlor to take up space at one of his cafe tables, and try to get some work done on her Animagus application. She sat down and pulled the small book of pages and pages of form to fill out from her bag, as well as her eagle owl feather quill and bottle of dark blue-green ink. She settled back in her chair and tried to shut out the noise of Diagon Alley and read the first paragraph of the form:
Animagus Registration Form
Please answer the following questions as honestly as possible. Their truthfulness will be checked by Ministry Employees of various ministries, and any lies, bluffs, or non-truths of any kind will be severly dealt with.
If you are still a student attending a wizarding school, a fourth, fifth, and sixth page of forms is attached, as well as a seventh page if the person wishing to become Animagus is presently attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. These additional pages are to be filled out, with the same attention to honesty as above.
If there is any question that does not apply to you, mark N/A in the space provided.
For your convienience, the form has been divided into clearly marked and divided sections.
Thank You.
Information on the Person Applying to become Animagus:
Full Name: Meredith Martin MacDonnelson
Age as of January 1st of this year: 17
"Ah, I see a new face at my parlour," a pleasant voice said gamely. Meredith looked up to see a , who she assumed to be Florean Fortesque himself. "I remember every face that comes to my parlour, and I do not recognise yours, miss."
"I've only been here once before, sir, when I was eight."
"Ah, a face can change much over time. Forgive me for not introducing myself, I am Florean Fortesque." Ha. She was right.
"Merdith MacDonnelson. Pleased to meet you," she said, shaking his hand.
"Ah, not the daughter of Thomas MacDonnelson?"
"Yes, sir, I am."
"Ah, Miss Meredith, I am pleased to meet the daughter of one Scotland's finest wizards. Smahing at transiguration, I hear."
"Yes, sir, he is, and enjoys very much turning my cat into cornbread and other such pranks," she replied gamely, causing him to laugh.
"Of course, but I was referring to you, Miss Meredith. I hear you are quite the accomplished young witch."
"Others tell me that, sir, and I like to think of myself as one."
"Pure modesty, I see, Miss Meredith. And what have you there? Already at the studies before school is in session?"
"No, sir, a registration form I have to fill out."
"Aye? For what? Registering for what? You have my curiosity now, Miss Meredith."
"To be an Animagus, sir."
His eyebrows lifted. "Animagus? But you cannot be older than just out of Hogwarts."
"I'm going into my seventh year at Hogwarts, sir, but before I was attending Parksmull School in America?"
"A seventh year, eh? You must be quite the accomplished young witch... " Meredith did not know quite how to respond, so she didn't, only smiled slightly and blushed a bit at his astonishment.
"Aye, well, I will leave you to your form, then, Miss Meredith. Would you like a little something, a sundae, perhaps?" Meredith paused, wondering.
"Do you have root beer floats?"
"What floats?"
She shook her head. "It's a Muggle desert I'm quite fond of. Root beer and vanilla ice cream mixed together."
Florean nodded his head. "Well then, I will let you get some work done on your form. You have quite a ways to go, I see," he said, gesturing to the large booklet that was her Animagus form. She smiled as he dissapeared inside his shop, and she turned her attention once again to her form.
Birthplace: MacDonnelson Castle, Scotland
Father: Thomas James MacDonnelson
Mother: Laurel Aurora Martin MacDonnelson
Laurel paused. Her mother...
"Finishing up homework? Procrastinated to the last moment, I see," another voice said teasingly. Meredith looked up, her eyes falling on the bearer of the voice, a tall red-haired guy with a grin on his face. "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, I'll leave if you want me to," he continued, saying the last sentence quickly.
"Oh, no, no, this stuff is boring as Divinations class," she laughed, gesturing to the small novel that was her forms.
He smiled, looking a little relieved, and sat down opposite her at the small, wrought-iron cafe table. "Quite honestly, I really am sorry if I'm bothering you. Frankly," he said, leaning a little closer to her, "I'm here talking to you on a dare, compliments of my friends over there," he motioned to a pair of students standing by the door of the shop across the way, both trying but failing miserably at trying to look casual and uninterested. "No offense, of course," he added quickly, looking a little worried.
"None taken," she said, and he relaxed. "So what's in this dare for you?"
"I get one of those neat little glass globes with the universe inside. I'll never have to pay attention in Astronomy class again." He smiled at the thought, then looked at Meredith. "You're not from here, are you?" he asked. " From England, I mean."
She shook her head. "No-well, technically I am; I was born in Scotland, but when my... when I was five we moved to the US and I've lived there ever since."
"What brings you to England?"
"My father decided it was high time we moved back into the family estate, and so we moved back to Scotland. I wanted to stay at least one more year and finish up school with all my friends, but we moved anyway."
"So you're a seventh year, then?"
"Yes, you?"
"Yep. Oh, I'm sorry, Ron Weasley," he said, introducing himself.
"Meredith MacDonnelson," she replied, shaking his hand. "Is your father by any chance Arthur Weasley?"
"Yes, he is, in fact. You know him?"
"I will. I have an appointment with him at the Ministry tomorrow afternoon. They won't let me in Hogwarts until I clear some muggle stuff I've bewitched. It's harmless stuff, really, you can't do anything with it unless you're a wizard, so I don't see the big deal."
"It's the principle, I guess. They can't be sure if it's harmless unless you clear it, and we can't have Muggles running around with bewitched chainsaws, now can we?" he said gamely, making Meredith laugh. Ron liked her laugh-it was so open and carefree, and had no hints of uncertainty or any such thing-it seemed to contain nothing but happiness.
"So are you hurriedly finishing up homework that you kept putting off and off and off like I did, or are you getting a headstart like Hermione did?" She smiled. She liked his humour-it wasn't blatantly obvious like some people's were, but it was there nonetheless.
"No, no, this is a form I have to fill out."
"A form the size of a small novel," he commented. "What's it for?"
"It's the registration form for becoming Animagus."
"You? Become an Animagus? But you're only what, eighteen?"
"Seventeen. I suffer from a late birthday."
He smiled, but then continued with his astonished comments. "How'd you even get a form? Dad says there's practically an entire ministry on preventing people from becoming Animagus without the Ministy's permission, and they only give out those forms to the select few."
"RON!" A shout from one of Ron's friend across the way took Ron's attention away from the form, and they both looked over to where they were standing. A plump redheaded witch had joined them, as well as a young witch around fifteen, also redheaded. They were waving to Ron, and the plump witch was yelling something about being home for dinner.
"Cripes," he muttered. "Sorry, I have to go," he said to Meredith, standing up and smiling at her. "It was nice to meet you," he said, shaking her hand again.
"See you at Hogwarts," she said as he turned to leave.
"Oh, that reminds me," he said, whipping back around. "Do you know what house you're in yet?"
"No, Dumbledore wanted to have me sorted the first day of school, after the first years get sorted."
"Do what you can to get into Gryffindor," he said, smiling at her, as he left to join his friends, and what Meredith assumed to be his mother and sister, judging from their hair. She watched them dissapear from view, Ron giving her one last look before a wave of people blocked his view. She sighed and turned back to her form.