Chapter 1
A/N: My beloved Ickle Ronniekins and all of his adorable traits belong solely to JKR, and I thank her for blessing me with him. Absolutely none of this belongs to me. Enjoy, and please review if you get the chance! This is very rough as I haven't edited it out very much. I'm not British so the slang is probably all wrong, and I've had my fair share of difficulties becoming a teenage boy for the purposes of this story. Help is needed. Desperately. (
The summer had been a nice one- summers always are. I mean, we're talking two months almost totally free of homework (I bet Hermione can barely stand the pain!), two months free of Snape, free of Filch, free of Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins. It's not physically possible to be free of these things and not have a nice time.
But, well, I think even if it means dealing with the unpleasant cast of characters that comes along with Hogwarts, well…I dunno. There are a lot of things I really like about it. Stuff I really miss during those long summers.
I'm supposed to be homesick for the Burrow when I'm at Hogwarts. Instead, I'm homesick for Hogwarts when I'm at the Burrow.
Hogwarts is a really cool place. Full of surprises, always exciting. And I miss people like Hagrid, and my fellow Gryffindors Seamus and Dean- maybe even Neville a little, stupid git that he is.
Mostly, I miss Harry and Hermione. I'm always with them usually, they're always somewhere nearby- whether we're in mortal peril together, getting too curious about stuff that's really none of our business, doing detentions together, or more normal things- playing chess, doing homework, making fun of Malfoy, and so on. When you spend that much time with a person, it's weird being away from them. I guess it's sort of like how I feel being away from Mum and Dad during the year.
Except not, because Harry and Hermione aren't huge pains in the ass.
Let me restate that. Harry is not a huge pain in the ass.
Even with all the going-to-the-library 24/7, bossiness, know-it-all- ness that you deal with as Hermione Granger's best friend, I had to admit I still missed her, and I hoped she and Harry could come stay at the Burrow with me later.
I don't know. The Burrow's my home and all, but…it would be really nice to have my friends with me. Living at the Burrow is total pandemonium. My family is bloody crazy, I tell you.
Mum, running around and nagging, cooking, telling us to clean up after ourselves and in general just being very mum-like. Dad, running in and out of the house, complaining about work and obsessing over Muggle junk. Percy, being completely priggish and daft. He just got a job at the Ministry- International Magical Cooperation (can you say boring? Not that that has ever stopped Perce before!), and he won't shut up about it, he's so damn smug.
Fred and George are funny, but sometimes they take their jokes too far. "Sometimes" may be something of an understatement, actually. Ginny's all right, I suppose. She may be a girl, but she seems to be the only member of the Weasley family aside from me with a shred of normalcy in her. It's oddly refreshing. But she's always off sighing about Harry, who, though she'll no longer admit it, she still has an enormous crush on. No offense to Harry, he's my best mate and all, but I find it rather nauseating. Girls. They're weirdos, honestly.
What with all the different and clashing personalities my family holds, there's always some disagreement or other, people yelling at each other, and often full-on battles. It's very tiring.
I also dislike being at the Burrow sometimes because it's a constant reminder of our lack of wealth. Our house is completely falling apart, we're so ruddy poor. It's seriously embarrassing. There's always some financial problem or other to discuss, with Weasley red ears. (I wonder if mine turn red like that? All the other Weasley men have it bad, you can always tell what they're feeling.)
I sat, lazily, at the kitchen table on a sunny afternoon in early August. My thoughts were interrupted by a slight pop, and I knew that either Percy or Dad had returned home from work. But on second thought, I knew by now that Percy was so fixated on work that he'd never come home if he could help it. It was only 4:30- altogether too early for Big Head Boy to be voluntarily leaving work.
I glanced up. Ah, I knew my family well. Dad stood by the door, yawning and scratching his bald spot sleepily. Poor Dad. He's an overworked man if I ever knew one, but he loves his job. I can't for the life of me figure out what he finds so blasted interesting about Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, but he's happy this way, and that's cool.
Dad caught sight of me and grinned, and I realized that, though sleepy, he looked quite excited.
"Ron! You'll never guess…you're going to be so excited…" He began.
I sprang to my feet.
"Quidditch?" I asked hopefully. I usually link excitement with Quidditch, and the upcoming World Cup had me even more obssessive than usual.
Dad continued, grinning.
"Yes! Ludo Bagman's got us all tickets to the World Cup! Ireland vs.- "
"Dad, I know who's playing!" By now I was literally jumping up and down in a frenzy of excitement. "Bloody brilliant! Do Fred and George know yet?" Dad shook his head, amused.
I ran up the steep old stairs joyfully, went past several rooms until I reached the twins' room. Grinning from ear to ear, I opened the door and barged in, shouting,
"Tickets…to…World Cup!!" Panting with exhaustion, I saw Fred and George jump up from an experiment they'd been working on, smiling. They clapped me on the back.
"Dad just get home?" Fred asked. I nodded. They left their experiment and together we practically rolled down the staircase and met up with Dad. He had been joined by Mum, who was smiling in a motherly fashion (everything that woman does is motherly- it's bloody creepy, if you ask me!).
"Oh- boys, I forgot, they're good tickets, too…" Dad began.
The three of us tensed up, prepared for the worst- normally at Quidditch matches we would always get the cheapest seats.
"TOP box!" We whooped, disbelieving. "Oh, and Ron- I've gotten two extra tickets for Harry and Hermione. You should contact them immediately."
"Excellent." I grinned. Maybe this summer was turning out to be more than simply "nice," after all. "Those bloody Muggles better let Harry come, or I'll…" I muttered.
"Ron, Ron, I'm sure they'll allow him. This is a chance of a lifetime, why wouldn't th-"
"You don't get it. Those Muggles definitely don't have Harry's best interests in mind." I said, seriously.
Fred and Geroge affirmed my statement with exaggerated nods. "No kidding," said George.
"Well, it's worth a try, isn't it, Ron?" Mum handed me to pieces of parchment and a quill, and I sat down to scrawl two hurried letters.
First, I scribbled a letter to Hermione, in my chicken scratch. I think she and Harry are the only ones who can read it anyway. I think here, I may have an advantage over Hermione with the professors (that being my only one!). Maybe they'll look at the illegible mess, give up on trying to decipher it, decide I had written something intelligent and profound- and give me full marks. On the other hand, I think Snape, for one, looks at my essays and decides they're a combination of total nonsense and stuff I've copied from Hermione. Not that that's so very far for the truth…
I looked over my letter, for some reason wanting to make sure I hadn't written anything completely idiotic in my excitement- Hermione would laugh and roll her eyes over what Quidditch does to us men.
Hermione-
Dad's got us tickets to the World Cup- top box, Ireland vs. Bulgaria, and he's got you and Harry tickets too! Come as soon as you can- try to owl me about when you'll be arriving, but we'll be ready for you whenever you get here. Hope the Muggles will let Harry come. If not…well, he's coming anyway! Hope to see you soon. You can stay until term starts, so bring all your school stuff. Bye.
-Ron
I scribbled a similar note to Harry, scrambled upstairs, got Pig to calm down for a split second, and sent Harry's letter out. Then I retrieved Errol from a coma-like stance in Percy's room and tied Hermione's note to him. (He'd been awfully tired from the constant shipping back and forth of Percy and Penelope's letters. They're so disgusting.)
The Quidditch World Cup! Oh, bloody hell…life is good.
* * * * *
On Saturday afternoon, I sat on the porch with my chin in my hand, waiting for Hermione. We were expecting her any minute now. I hadn't heard from Harry yet as to whether the Dursleys were allowing him to come or not, but Pig hadn't returned from that delivery yet. And, as I had said in my letter to Harry, "If they say yes, send Pig back with your answer pronto, and we'll come and get you at five o'clock on Sunday. If they say no, send Pig back pronto and we'll come and get you at five o' clock on Sunday anyway."
I hadn't seen Hermione for a while, which in some aspects wasn't such a bad thing. But one misses having a constant dictionary and homework resource site at one's side constantly. I looked down at the tall grass growing around me, saw an ant scurrying around, traced the name of my favorite Quidditch team in the dirt. Ah, the Cannons. Shame they didn't make the World Cup, now that would've been really brilliant- but as it was, it was going to be bloody amazing anyway-
The somewhat unfamiliar rumbling of a car pulling up into the driveway shook me out of my speculations. I stood up, peering closely through the windows of the green car and saw two adults I recognized as Hermione's parents, with a grinning Hermione in the back. I waved and she waved back furiously, jumping out of the car as soon as it came to a halt.
"Ron!" She began breathlessly, "You got my owl then! Oh, it's wonderful to see you again, I've missed you so much-" She threw her arms around me, I pulled away from her with disgust as soon as I could. She's such a sap sometimes, such a…girl, I guess. But most of the time, I barely notice. She's not all giggly and annoying like Parvati or Lavender- and trust me, Harry and I appreciate this.
"Glad you made it," I said, casually. "I haven't heard back from Harry yet, but whether the Dursleys like it or not, we're going to pick him up tomorrow afternoon."
"Oh, marvelous! I do hope Harry's okay, with his horrid cousin's diet and…"
"Hello, Hermione!" Dad had heard the ruckus Hermione's arrival had caused, apparently.
"Hi, Mr. Weasley. Thanks for asking me to stay, and for the tickets!"
"Oh, don't mention it," Dad said gruffly, looking rather pleased. With our budget, it wasn't often that we could do people favors like this.
Hermione's mum and dad came up to meet us, carrying her luggage. They looked as if they were having a bit of trouble- God knows how many books Hermione keeps in those suitcases. Dad shook their hands with delight.
"It's so good to see you two again- how've you been? Ron, help Hermione with her luggage, will you?"
Hermione and I took the luggage inside, and Crookshanks followed. Hermione looked around her, and I felt myself flush. We are so bloody POOR. Our house is such a…shack. And she'd never been here before.
"Sorry about the house…it's not much…" I mumbled, to the floor.
"Ron, this is amazing! A real wizard house…I've never been in one before…"
I grinned, a little embarrassed.
"Well, if nothing else, maybe staying here will be of some educational value."
She smiled, but rolled her eyes. I don't know why, but I get satisfaction out of annoying Hermione.
"Follow me," I said, and we traipsed up the crooked stairway. Behind us, I could heard Dad asking Hermione's parents all about Muggle transportation.
"How was your summer?" I asked.
"Oh, quite good, I've been reading a lot, of course-"
"Of course. On second thought, I don't think I really want to know what you've been doing all summer."
"And have you done your homework yet, Ron?" she asked me in a rather McGonagall-esque tone.
"Are you kidding? I was waiting until you came so I could cop- er, draw some…inspiration from your-"
"Ron!"
Ha. We'd barely been together for five minutes, and already we were bickering. We must drive Harry berserk. But I like it this way. I can't explain why, I just do. I guess I like having her atten- oh, what am I saying?? Seriously, this summer heat is making me delirious.
Percy popped out of his room as we passed.
"Would you be quiet, I'm trying to WORK- Oh, hello, Hermione." Catching sight of Hermione, Percy's tone changed to a much more pleasant one. Hermione and Perce have always gotten along- even before she and I did. (Well, I don't know if you can really call our relationship one in which we "get along," but you know what I mean.) Well, after all, they're both complete work-a-holics, so why shouldn't they?
"Hello, Percy. Have a good summer? I heard about your new job-" Oh, why did she have to bring it up?? "Congratulations."
Perce looked like he was about to launch into a detailed explanation about the Cauldron Bottom report he was working on- or begin raving about his boss, Mr. Crouch. I swear, if Penelope finds out about the way Percy talks about that man, she'll be positively green with envy. Percy stuck his nose into the air and opened his mouth to start talking- but before he could utter a syllable, Hermione said brightly,
"Love to chat, Percy, but I've got to take this luggage up," and walked briskly on. I followed her, sniggering at the offended look on my brother's face. Hermione burst into laughter when we had gotten out of hearing range of Percy.
Wow. She never would've done that three years ago, but hanging around Harry and me has really rubbed off on her.
Ginny burst out of her room, grinned at Hermione and gave her a big hug.
"I'm so glad you're here! Just put your stuff in here, oh, how've you been- you've just got to meet Bill and Charlie, they're staying here, you'll like them-" Ginny babbled on, stopping for a moment to catch her breath. No wonder she and Hermione get along so well- neither one of them can ever shut up.
"Er…need any help?" I asked, awkwardly, as my sister and Hermione retreated into Ginny's room, talking rapidly and giggling.
"No thanks, Ron- Hermione and I've got things to discuss." Ginny grinned mischieviously and Hermione blushed.
I shrugged and walked back down the stairs. Girls are so weird. Ugh. Well, any way, Harry would be here with me tomorrow. Thank god- I could hardly wait.
* * * * *
Not that we weren't capable of getting Harry out of Privet Drive in a tight situation (we'd done it before, after all), but I felt somewhat relieved when a letter from Harry came during dinner that night.
Hedwig swooped down- everyone looked up with anticipation, and Ginny turned bright red. I glanced at Hermione, who nodded and raised her eyebrows. Untying the letter from Hedwig's leg, I opened it. Inside was a very brief, very hurried note from Harry. His handwriting wasn't too legible, but compared to mine, it was practically perfect. And I knew his handwriting very well- I read out loud with ease.
"Ron, it's all okay, the Muggles say I can come-" The whole table exploded with these words. I whooped, delighted, Fred and George yelled, Hermione grinned, Mum and Dad looked overjoyed. Even Percy grunted with approval. Charlie and Bill looked excited- they still hadn't met "famous Harry Potter." Ginny looked relieved beyond words. Once everyone was composed enough to listen, I began to read again.
"See you at five o'clock tomorrow, can't wait, Harry."
As an afterthought, Fred added,
Damn, we'll have to pick him up the normal way. I rather enjoyed the flying car-"
"Yes, pity it's gone now, though, isn't it?" said George.
"Well, I suppose we could always order a flying taxi to take us to Privet Drive…"
Everyone laughed except Percy (He hates anything illegal. How boring is that?) and Mum- obviously she was still slightly livid about the Ford Anglia incident and looked a bit cross-eyed.
"Well, then, that's settled," said Dad quickly, looking like he wanted to get away for that subject as quickly as possible. "I've temporarily hooked the Dursley's house up to the Floo Network, so we'll just go there at 5 p.m. sharp via Floo Powder, exchange pleasantries with the Muggles-" ("Ha!" I said.) "-and it'll all be very painless."
Or so we hoped.
Chapter 2
A/N: "gol' blimey, it's a bleedin' ritz!" is a line taken from the musical "Me and My Girl," and Ron's reaction to Privet Drive was inspired by that.
I'm not particularly proud of this chapter, and haven't edited it out much either, so help me please!!
Thanks to everyone who has R/Red this story and my other fics thus far, especially to my pals the HDMmers who always have something kind to say and can always make me laugh! I love you guys!
This chapter's dedicated to you.
The next day, we decided just Dad and I would travel to Harry's house to pick him up. We were heading out of the fireplace a little after 5 when the twins ran up and insisted on coming with us. Dad was suspicious- whenever Fred and George are very eager about anything, there's likely to be some practical joking involved. But after a few minutes of bickering, I looked at my watch and groaned,
"Dad, we're running ten minutes late. Harry'll be worried. C'mon!"
"Oh, just let us come, please. We're…" Fred began.
"We're just absolutely desperate to get inside a Muggle house. It'll be…fascinating." George finished. Dad seemed to miss the sarcasm in his voice, and finally gave in. We all gathered around the fireplace, grabbed some Floo Powder, and left one by one, Dad first. I went through last.
I felt the familiar dizzy sensation, and everything seemed to be going perfectly normally until I found myself in a very dark, stuffy place. I could tell from all the confused grunts and long limbs flailing around that I reached the same destination as Dad and the twins, but I wasn't sure if we'd gone to the right place.
"What are we doing here?" I asked. "Has something gone wrong?"
Fred poked me, irritated. "Oh no, Ron. No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up."
George chimed in, sounding very muffled. "Yeah, we're having the time of our lives here."
"Boys, boys, I'm trying to think what to do…" Dad sounded thoughtful. "Yes…only way…stand back, Harry."
Good. So we had ended up in the right place, but what the bloody hell were we doing in here?? I heard Dad mutter a spell I didn't know and there was a huge, resounding bang.
The wall of the little enclosed dark space burst. Wood flew everywhere, we blinked with the appearance of light, and looked around.
Blimey. Those Muggles Harry lives with sure are rich. The place was a bleeding ritz, really. Well, it actually wasn't looking so hot at the moment because there was now a thick layer of plaster and wood shards covering everything. It seemed the Dursleys had nailed up their fireplace. Can't imagine why anyone would want to do that.
I saw Harry in the room, looking quite startled but, I'm sure, very pleased to see someone friendly for once. I exchanged a quick smile with him that said more than any words could. We've gotten past the point where words need to be spoken in order to communicate. Harry's my sixth brother, he really is.
With him were a man and a woman I recognized. The memory associated with them wasn't really a fond one for me- their faces had been on the other end of a game of tug-o-war. I'd had the twins on my side. Harry was the tugged object. Poor bloke.
Mr. Dursley, a large man with an enormous mustache, was holding his bony, vulture-like wife in his arms. They both looked horrified and very angry, and were fixing Dad with rather frightening stares. He looked quite flustered.
But he was in a Muggle house, and you could tell he was just drinking in every little thing about it. Crazy, that man is, honestly. He introduced himself to the Muggles and gave them a hurried explanation. They gaped at him, speechless, eyes popping at words like "Floo Network" and "Disapparate." Mr. Dursley turned redder and redder every second, while Mrs. Dursley just kept getting pastier.
Fred and George offered to go get Harry's suitcase, and I could tell by those telltale grins on their faces that they were hoping to try out a Canary Cream or two on Dudley. From what Harry had told me in his letters that summer, Dudley was on a diet and he would probably eat anything that was offered to him.
Dad talked on about his plugs and eckeltricity, while the Muggles continued to stare at him as if he belonged in St. Mungo's. And then a boy appeared in the room, and I knew at once that it had to be Dudley.
He looked not so much like a boy as he did a great big marshmallow, with little piggy eyes and a big blond mop of hair. He had his sausage-like fingers fixed on his huge bottom, as if afraid it was going to fall out of his pants at any moment. I knew better, though. Damn, I would give anything to have seen that tail Hagrid put on him. I had a great deal of trouble stopping myself from bursting out into laughter, and bit my lip as Dad started asking Dudley questions in a gentle, sympathetic tone.
Fred and George appeared, sighted Dudley, and got ominous looks on their faces. Hah. This could get good- Mum'd be furious if they got into any more trouble, though, she's still barely talking to them since the whole Weasley's Wizard Wheezes thing.
They had Harry's trunk with them, meaning it was time to go. The green flames were in the fire and Fred was just about to leave for the Burrow when he (very accidentally, I could tell) suddenly spilled a bag of candies out of his pocket. They were wrapped in bright pink, red, and yellow wrappers, and I recognized them. Ton-Tongue Toffees. Brilliant.
Fred feigned picking them up, but I saw that he left several for Dudley to find. He wouldn't be able to resist, he'd been on a diet! Perfect. We left, me after the twins, and I said,
"See you!" to the Dursleys, hardly being able to contain my laughter, knowing what was in store for them. I grinned at Harry, who grinned back, and left.
Seconds later I found myself in the kitchen fire of my home, and Fred and George were wildly telling Bill and Charlie about what they had done. The room echoed with Weasley laughter. I joined in, pulling my robes straight and joining them at the table.
A/N: My beloved Ickle Ronniekins and all of his adorable traits belong solely to JKR, and I thank her for blessing me with him. Absolutely none of this belongs to me. Enjoy, and please review if you get the chance! This is very rough as I haven't edited it out very much. I'm not British so the slang is probably all wrong, and I've had my fair share of difficulties becoming a teenage boy for the purposes of this story. Help is needed. Desperately. (
The summer had been a nice one- summers always are. I mean, we're talking two months almost totally free of homework (I bet Hermione can barely stand the pain!), two months free of Snape, free of Filch, free of Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins. It's not physically possible to be free of these things and not have a nice time.
But, well, I think even if it means dealing with the unpleasant cast of characters that comes along with Hogwarts, well…I dunno. There are a lot of things I really like about it. Stuff I really miss during those long summers.
I'm supposed to be homesick for the Burrow when I'm at Hogwarts. Instead, I'm homesick for Hogwarts when I'm at the Burrow.
Hogwarts is a really cool place. Full of surprises, always exciting. And I miss people like Hagrid, and my fellow Gryffindors Seamus and Dean- maybe even Neville a little, stupid git that he is.
Mostly, I miss Harry and Hermione. I'm always with them usually, they're always somewhere nearby- whether we're in mortal peril together, getting too curious about stuff that's really none of our business, doing detentions together, or more normal things- playing chess, doing homework, making fun of Malfoy, and so on. When you spend that much time with a person, it's weird being away from them. I guess it's sort of like how I feel being away from Mum and Dad during the year.
Except not, because Harry and Hermione aren't huge pains in the ass.
Let me restate that. Harry is not a huge pain in the ass.
Even with all the going-to-the-library 24/7, bossiness, know-it-all- ness that you deal with as Hermione Granger's best friend, I had to admit I still missed her, and I hoped she and Harry could come stay at the Burrow with me later.
I don't know. The Burrow's my home and all, but…it would be really nice to have my friends with me. Living at the Burrow is total pandemonium. My family is bloody crazy, I tell you.
Mum, running around and nagging, cooking, telling us to clean up after ourselves and in general just being very mum-like. Dad, running in and out of the house, complaining about work and obsessing over Muggle junk. Percy, being completely priggish and daft. He just got a job at the Ministry- International Magical Cooperation (can you say boring? Not that that has ever stopped Perce before!), and he won't shut up about it, he's so damn smug.
Fred and George are funny, but sometimes they take their jokes too far. "Sometimes" may be something of an understatement, actually. Ginny's all right, I suppose. She may be a girl, but she seems to be the only member of the Weasley family aside from me with a shred of normalcy in her. It's oddly refreshing. But she's always off sighing about Harry, who, though she'll no longer admit it, she still has an enormous crush on. No offense to Harry, he's my best mate and all, but I find it rather nauseating. Girls. They're weirdos, honestly.
What with all the different and clashing personalities my family holds, there's always some disagreement or other, people yelling at each other, and often full-on battles. It's very tiring.
I also dislike being at the Burrow sometimes because it's a constant reminder of our lack of wealth. Our house is completely falling apart, we're so ruddy poor. It's seriously embarrassing. There's always some financial problem or other to discuss, with Weasley red ears. (I wonder if mine turn red like that? All the other Weasley men have it bad, you can always tell what they're feeling.)
I sat, lazily, at the kitchen table on a sunny afternoon in early August. My thoughts were interrupted by a slight pop, and I knew that either Percy or Dad had returned home from work. But on second thought, I knew by now that Percy was so fixated on work that he'd never come home if he could help it. It was only 4:30- altogether too early for Big Head Boy to be voluntarily leaving work.
I glanced up. Ah, I knew my family well. Dad stood by the door, yawning and scratching his bald spot sleepily. Poor Dad. He's an overworked man if I ever knew one, but he loves his job. I can't for the life of me figure out what he finds so blasted interesting about Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, but he's happy this way, and that's cool.
Dad caught sight of me and grinned, and I realized that, though sleepy, he looked quite excited.
"Ron! You'll never guess…you're going to be so excited…" He began.
I sprang to my feet.
"Quidditch?" I asked hopefully. I usually link excitement with Quidditch, and the upcoming World Cup had me even more obssessive than usual.
Dad continued, grinning.
"Yes! Ludo Bagman's got us all tickets to the World Cup! Ireland vs.- "
"Dad, I know who's playing!" By now I was literally jumping up and down in a frenzy of excitement. "Bloody brilliant! Do Fred and George know yet?" Dad shook his head, amused.
I ran up the steep old stairs joyfully, went past several rooms until I reached the twins' room. Grinning from ear to ear, I opened the door and barged in, shouting,
"Tickets…to…World Cup!!" Panting with exhaustion, I saw Fred and George jump up from an experiment they'd been working on, smiling. They clapped me on the back.
"Dad just get home?" Fred asked. I nodded. They left their experiment and together we practically rolled down the staircase and met up with Dad. He had been joined by Mum, who was smiling in a motherly fashion (everything that woman does is motherly- it's bloody creepy, if you ask me!).
"Oh- boys, I forgot, they're good tickets, too…" Dad began.
The three of us tensed up, prepared for the worst- normally at Quidditch matches we would always get the cheapest seats.
"TOP box!" We whooped, disbelieving. "Oh, and Ron- I've gotten two extra tickets for Harry and Hermione. You should contact them immediately."
"Excellent." I grinned. Maybe this summer was turning out to be more than simply "nice," after all. "Those bloody Muggles better let Harry come, or I'll…" I muttered.
"Ron, Ron, I'm sure they'll allow him. This is a chance of a lifetime, why wouldn't th-"
"You don't get it. Those Muggles definitely don't have Harry's best interests in mind." I said, seriously.
Fred and Geroge affirmed my statement with exaggerated nods. "No kidding," said George.
"Well, it's worth a try, isn't it, Ron?" Mum handed me to pieces of parchment and a quill, and I sat down to scrawl two hurried letters.
First, I scribbled a letter to Hermione, in my chicken scratch. I think she and Harry are the only ones who can read it anyway. I think here, I may have an advantage over Hermione with the professors (that being my only one!). Maybe they'll look at the illegible mess, give up on trying to decipher it, decide I had written something intelligent and profound- and give me full marks. On the other hand, I think Snape, for one, looks at my essays and decides they're a combination of total nonsense and stuff I've copied from Hermione. Not that that's so very far for the truth…
I looked over my letter, for some reason wanting to make sure I hadn't written anything completely idiotic in my excitement- Hermione would laugh and roll her eyes over what Quidditch does to us men.
Hermione-
Dad's got us tickets to the World Cup- top box, Ireland vs. Bulgaria, and he's got you and Harry tickets too! Come as soon as you can- try to owl me about when you'll be arriving, but we'll be ready for you whenever you get here. Hope the Muggles will let Harry come. If not…well, he's coming anyway! Hope to see you soon. You can stay until term starts, so bring all your school stuff. Bye.
-Ron
I scribbled a similar note to Harry, scrambled upstairs, got Pig to calm down for a split second, and sent Harry's letter out. Then I retrieved Errol from a coma-like stance in Percy's room and tied Hermione's note to him. (He'd been awfully tired from the constant shipping back and forth of Percy and Penelope's letters. They're so disgusting.)
The Quidditch World Cup! Oh, bloody hell…life is good.
* * * * *
On Saturday afternoon, I sat on the porch with my chin in my hand, waiting for Hermione. We were expecting her any minute now. I hadn't heard from Harry yet as to whether the Dursleys were allowing him to come or not, but Pig hadn't returned from that delivery yet. And, as I had said in my letter to Harry, "If they say yes, send Pig back with your answer pronto, and we'll come and get you at five o'clock on Sunday. If they say no, send Pig back pronto and we'll come and get you at five o' clock on Sunday anyway."
I hadn't seen Hermione for a while, which in some aspects wasn't such a bad thing. But one misses having a constant dictionary and homework resource site at one's side constantly. I looked down at the tall grass growing around me, saw an ant scurrying around, traced the name of my favorite Quidditch team in the dirt. Ah, the Cannons. Shame they didn't make the World Cup, now that would've been really brilliant- but as it was, it was going to be bloody amazing anyway-
The somewhat unfamiliar rumbling of a car pulling up into the driveway shook me out of my speculations. I stood up, peering closely through the windows of the green car and saw two adults I recognized as Hermione's parents, with a grinning Hermione in the back. I waved and she waved back furiously, jumping out of the car as soon as it came to a halt.
"Ron!" She began breathlessly, "You got my owl then! Oh, it's wonderful to see you again, I've missed you so much-" She threw her arms around me, I pulled away from her with disgust as soon as I could. She's such a sap sometimes, such a…girl, I guess. But most of the time, I barely notice. She's not all giggly and annoying like Parvati or Lavender- and trust me, Harry and I appreciate this.
"Glad you made it," I said, casually. "I haven't heard back from Harry yet, but whether the Dursleys like it or not, we're going to pick him up tomorrow afternoon."
"Oh, marvelous! I do hope Harry's okay, with his horrid cousin's diet and…"
"Hello, Hermione!" Dad had heard the ruckus Hermione's arrival had caused, apparently.
"Hi, Mr. Weasley. Thanks for asking me to stay, and for the tickets!"
"Oh, don't mention it," Dad said gruffly, looking rather pleased. With our budget, it wasn't often that we could do people favors like this.
Hermione's mum and dad came up to meet us, carrying her luggage. They looked as if they were having a bit of trouble- God knows how many books Hermione keeps in those suitcases. Dad shook their hands with delight.
"It's so good to see you two again- how've you been? Ron, help Hermione with her luggage, will you?"
Hermione and I took the luggage inside, and Crookshanks followed. Hermione looked around her, and I felt myself flush. We are so bloody POOR. Our house is such a…shack. And she'd never been here before.
"Sorry about the house…it's not much…" I mumbled, to the floor.
"Ron, this is amazing! A real wizard house…I've never been in one before…"
I grinned, a little embarrassed.
"Well, if nothing else, maybe staying here will be of some educational value."
She smiled, but rolled her eyes. I don't know why, but I get satisfaction out of annoying Hermione.
"Follow me," I said, and we traipsed up the crooked stairway. Behind us, I could heard Dad asking Hermione's parents all about Muggle transportation.
"How was your summer?" I asked.
"Oh, quite good, I've been reading a lot, of course-"
"Of course. On second thought, I don't think I really want to know what you've been doing all summer."
"And have you done your homework yet, Ron?" she asked me in a rather McGonagall-esque tone.
"Are you kidding? I was waiting until you came so I could cop- er, draw some…inspiration from your-"
"Ron!"
Ha. We'd barely been together for five minutes, and already we were bickering. We must drive Harry berserk. But I like it this way. I can't explain why, I just do. I guess I like having her atten- oh, what am I saying?? Seriously, this summer heat is making me delirious.
Percy popped out of his room as we passed.
"Would you be quiet, I'm trying to WORK- Oh, hello, Hermione." Catching sight of Hermione, Percy's tone changed to a much more pleasant one. Hermione and Perce have always gotten along- even before she and I did. (Well, I don't know if you can really call our relationship one in which we "get along," but you know what I mean.) Well, after all, they're both complete work-a-holics, so why shouldn't they?
"Hello, Percy. Have a good summer? I heard about your new job-" Oh, why did she have to bring it up?? "Congratulations."
Perce looked like he was about to launch into a detailed explanation about the Cauldron Bottom report he was working on- or begin raving about his boss, Mr. Crouch. I swear, if Penelope finds out about the way Percy talks about that man, she'll be positively green with envy. Percy stuck his nose into the air and opened his mouth to start talking- but before he could utter a syllable, Hermione said brightly,
"Love to chat, Percy, but I've got to take this luggage up," and walked briskly on. I followed her, sniggering at the offended look on my brother's face. Hermione burst into laughter when we had gotten out of hearing range of Percy.
Wow. She never would've done that three years ago, but hanging around Harry and me has really rubbed off on her.
Ginny burst out of her room, grinned at Hermione and gave her a big hug.
"I'm so glad you're here! Just put your stuff in here, oh, how've you been- you've just got to meet Bill and Charlie, they're staying here, you'll like them-" Ginny babbled on, stopping for a moment to catch her breath. No wonder she and Hermione get along so well- neither one of them can ever shut up.
"Er…need any help?" I asked, awkwardly, as my sister and Hermione retreated into Ginny's room, talking rapidly and giggling.
"No thanks, Ron- Hermione and I've got things to discuss." Ginny grinned mischieviously and Hermione blushed.
I shrugged and walked back down the stairs. Girls are so weird. Ugh. Well, any way, Harry would be here with me tomorrow. Thank god- I could hardly wait.
* * * * *
Not that we weren't capable of getting Harry out of Privet Drive in a tight situation (we'd done it before, after all), but I felt somewhat relieved when a letter from Harry came during dinner that night.
Hedwig swooped down- everyone looked up with anticipation, and Ginny turned bright red. I glanced at Hermione, who nodded and raised her eyebrows. Untying the letter from Hedwig's leg, I opened it. Inside was a very brief, very hurried note from Harry. His handwriting wasn't too legible, but compared to mine, it was practically perfect. And I knew his handwriting very well- I read out loud with ease.
"Ron, it's all okay, the Muggles say I can come-" The whole table exploded with these words. I whooped, delighted, Fred and George yelled, Hermione grinned, Mum and Dad looked overjoyed. Even Percy grunted with approval. Charlie and Bill looked excited- they still hadn't met "famous Harry Potter." Ginny looked relieved beyond words. Once everyone was composed enough to listen, I began to read again.
"See you at five o'clock tomorrow, can't wait, Harry."
As an afterthought, Fred added,
Damn, we'll have to pick him up the normal way. I rather enjoyed the flying car-"
"Yes, pity it's gone now, though, isn't it?" said George.
"Well, I suppose we could always order a flying taxi to take us to Privet Drive…"
Everyone laughed except Percy (He hates anything illegal. How boring is that?) and Mum- obviously she was still slightly livid about the Ford Anglia incident and looked a bit cross-eyed.
"Well, then, that's settled," said Dad quickly, looking like he wanted to get away for that subject as quickly as possible. "I've temporarily hooked the Dursley's house up to the Floo Network, so we'll just go there at 5 p.m. sharp via Floo Powder, exchange pleasantries with the Muggles-" ("Ha!" I said.) "-and it'll all be very painless."
Or so we hoped.
Chapter 2
A/N: "gol' blimey, it's a bleedin' ritz!" is a line taken from the musical "Me and My Girl," and Ron's reaction to Privet Drive was inspired by that.
I'm not particularly proud of this chapter, and haven't edited it out much either, so help me please!!
Thanks to everyone who has R/Red this story and my other fics thus far, especially to my pals the HDMmers who always have something kind to say and can always make me laugh! I love you guys!
This chapter's dedicated to you.
The next day, we decided just Dad and I would travel to Harry's house to pick him up. We were heading out of the fireplace a little after 5 when the twins ran up and insisted on coming with us. Dad was suspicious- whenever Fred and George are very eager about anything, there's likely to be some practical joking involved. But after a few minutes of bickering, I looked at my watch and groaned,
"Dad, we're running ten minutes late. Harry'll be worried. C'mon!"
"Oh, just let us come, please. We're…" Fred began.
"We're just absolutely desperate to get inside a Muggle house. It'll be…fascinating." George finished. Dad seemed to miss the sarcasm in his voice, and finally gave in. We all gathered around the fireplace, grabbed some Floo Powder, and left one by one, Dad first. I went through last.
I felt the familiar dizzy sensation, and everything seemed to be going perfectly normally until I found myself in a very dark, stuffy place. I could tell from all the confused grunts and long limbs flailing around that I reached the same destination as Dad and the twins, but I wasn't sure if we'd gone to the right place.
"What are we doing here?" I asked. "Has something gone wrong?"
Fred poked me, irritated. "Oh no, Ron. No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up."
George chimed in, sounding very muffled. "Yeah, we're having the time of our lives here."
"Boys, boys, I'm trying to think what to do…" Dad sounded thoughtful. "Yes…only way…stand back, Harry."
Good. So we had ended up in the right place, but what the bloody hell were we doing in here?? I heard Dad mutter a spell I didn't know and there was a huge, resounding bang.
The wall of the little enclosed dark space burst. Wood flew everywhere, we blinked with the appearance of light, and looked around.
Blimey. Those Muggles Harry lives with sure are rich. The place was a bleeding ritz, really. Well, it actually wasn't looking so hot at the moment because there was now a thick layer of plaster and wood shards covering everything. It seemed the Dursleys had nailed up their fireplace. Can't imagine why anyone would want to do that.
I saw Harry in the room, looking quite startled but, I'm sure, very pleased to see someone friendly for once. I exchanged a quick smile with him that said more than any words could. We've gotten past the point where words need to be spoken in order to communicate. Harry's my sixth brother, he really is.
With him were a man and a woman I recognized. The memory associated with them wasn't really a fond one for me- their faces had been on the other end of a game of tug-o-war. I'd had the twins on my side. Harry was the tugged object. Poor bloke.
Mr. Dursley, a large man with an enormous mustache, was holding his bony, vulture-like wife in his arms. They both looked horrified and very angry, and were fixing Dad with rather frightening stares. He looked quite flustered.
But he was in a Muggle house, and you could tell he was just drinking in every little thing about it. Crazy, that man is, honestly. He introduced himself to the Muggles and gave them a hurried explanation. They gaped at him, speechless, eyes popping at words like "Floo Network" and "Disapparate." Mr. Dursley turned redder and redder every second, while Mrs. Dursley just kept getting pastier.
Fred and George offered to go get Harry's suitcase, and I could tell by those telltale grins on their faces that they were hoping to try out a Canary Cream or two on Dudley. From what Harry had told me in his letters that summer, Dudley was on a diet and he would probably eat anything that was offered to him.
Dad talked on about his plugs and eckeltricity, while the Muggles continued to stare at him as if he belonged in St. Mungo's. And then a boy appeared in the room, and I knew at once that it had to be Dudley.
He looked not so much like a boy as he did a great big marshmallow, with little piggy eyes and a big blond mop of hair. He had his sausage-like fingers fixed on his huge bottom, as if afraid it was going to fall out of his pants at any moment. I knew better, though. Damn, I would give anything to have seen that tail Hagrid put on him. I had a great deal of trouble stopping myself from bursting out into laughter, and bit my lip as Dad started asking Dudley questions in a gentle, sympathetic tone.
Fred and George appeared, sighted Dudley, and got ominous looks on their faces. Hah. This could get good- Mum'd be furious if they got into any more trouble, though, she's still barely talking to them since the whole Weasley's Wizard Wheezes thing.
They had Harry's trunk with them, meaning it was time to go. The green flames were in the fire and Fred was just about to leave for the Burrow when he (very accidentally, I could tell) suddenly spilled a bag of candies out of his pocket. They were wrapped in bright pink, red, and yellow wrappers, and I recognized them. Ton-Tongue Toffees. Brilliant.
Fred feigned picking them up, but I saw that he left several for Dudley to find. He wouldn't be able to resist, he'd been on a diet! Perfect. We left, me after the twins, and I said,
"See you!" to the Dursleys, hardly being able to contain my laughter, knowing what was in store for them. I grinned at Harry, who grinned back, and left.
Seconds later I found myself in the kitchen fire of my home, and Fred and George were wildly telling Bill and Charlie about what they had done. The room echoed with Weasley laughter. I joined in, pulling my robes straight and joining them at the table.