Disclaimer- Yeah, yeah.
Chapter Two-
"Hello? Anyone home?" Fred, George, Ron and Ginny had all been sitting in the living room, but at the sound of their father's voice the four of them jumped up and ran into the kitchen. Arthur Weasley looked completely worn out, and he had a few more strands of grey hair than before the summer, but his face broke into a smile when they rushed in to greet him. "Dad!" Ginny cried, rushing at him to give him a hug. Mr Weasley hugged his only daughter tightly. "Hi Ginny. How are you?" He asked, as they broke apart. Ginny shrugged. "I'm Ok. Are you? You look like death warmed up." She said with concern. Arthur rolled his eyes. "Tell me what you really think." He said sarcastically, turning to his sons. Fred, George and Ron were a little more reserved than Ginny as they greeted their father. For example, they didn't rush at him and give him big hugs. Arthur smiled brightly and acted normally, but the three boys all silently agreed with their sister- he did look awful. "So how's it going Dad?" Ron asked as they all sat down at the kitchen table. Mr Weasley sighed as he ran a hand through what was left of his hair. "Er. fine. Things are a bit hectic at work, but apart from that." He said. It didn't take a genius to tell that he was lying. Fred rolled his eyes. "Come on Dad. Dumbledore told us about You-Know-Who." He said. Mr Weasley looked up in surprise. "He did? Well, that was unexpected." He said a little helplessly. Ron leant forward. "Is Fudge budging yet?" He asked. Mr Weasley looked up at Ron in even greater surprise. "How on earth do you know about.oh. Of course. You're our man on the inside, aren't you? Well, it's not good. I'm afraid that the majority of the Ministry agree with Fudge, and the ones who do believe Dumbledore and me would prefer to agree with Fudge. I don't know what to do." He said. Ron slumped back into his chair as his siblings began to ask questions. They, of course, hadn't been present in the hospital wing when Fudge had declared the whole situation ridiculous, and so they did not know that the minister for Magic refused to believe the horrible truth. "What are you talking about?" Ginny asked her father with a frown. Mr Weasley sighed heavily and began to explain. "Well, Mr Fudge, he, he doesn't believe that You-Know-Who has risen." He said wearily. Fred, George and Ginny simultaneously rolled their eyes and sat back in their chairs. They didn't need to ask how Ron had known before them- Harry would have known and Harry told he and Hermione everything. Mr Weasley went onto explain the various ways he and Alastor Moody were thinking of to convince people that what was happening was real, but Ron found he didn't really want to listen. It was all too close to home for him. The last time You-Know-Who had been around, he'd been a baby and hadn't been too bothered about it. But now he was fifteen and best friends with number one on You-Know-Who's hit list. He needed to get away from it. Ron pushed his chair back and walked through into the living room, thinking absent-mindedly of creating some new chess moves. He walked in to find his mother sitting next to the fire, knitting a (yuck) maroon sock. Ron had a feeling he knew who it was for. Ron didn't feel like company right now, and was about to turn around and go upstairs when his mother looked up. "Hello dear." She said, smiling at him. Ron smiled back. "Hi mum." He said, walking towards the table his chessboard and playing pieces stood on. He picked them up and turned to leave when his mother spoke again. "How do you think Harry is doing?" She asked him, sounding concerned. Ron shrugged. "I don't know." He said truthfully. He didn't know- but it was to be assumed that Harry was quite worried. Ron was heading towards the door. "How are you doing?" Mrs Weasley asked. Ron paused, wondering how to answer the question. "Fine." He said finally, stepping out of the room quickly and hurrying up the stairs.
~*~ Harry, How are you? It's only a day into the holidays, and I'm already pretty bored. We were going to play Quidditch this morning, but it was pouring with rain, and of course Mum wouldn't let us out, so that idea went out the window and got soaked.
Ron paused, thinking what to say next. He had been going to put some of the things his father had told him last night, but then thought Harry wouldn't want to be reminded of it all. Not that he could forget. shaking his head, Ron resumed writing, trying to keep things light.
How's the operation going? I was thinking of taking a leaf out of Hermione's book and founding a society. It's called Society with the Intention of Committing Killings of Ugly People. (S.I.C.K.U.P for short). This society would include your family, You-Know-Who and of course Draco Malfoy. What do you think? Ron
Ron folded up the letter and put it to one side. Taking a second piece of parchment, he began a letter to Hermione.
Hermione, How are you? I don't know what the weather's like in London, but it's pouring down in Ottery St. Catchpole. But being stuck indoors has it's upside- I get to walk around proudly wearing my spew badge for all to see.
Ron paused in the middle of this letter as well. Should he tell Hermione about the ministry? Would she want to know anything? Deciding that Hermione always wanted to know everything, Ron carried on.
My Dad says hardly anyone believes him and Dumbledore, so things at the Ministry are really great. (Sarcasm). I really hate all this tension.
Ron stopped writing. Why had he written that? OK, he didn't like the feeling in the house, but that was no reason to go telling everyone. He loaded his quill with eraser-ink and went over the writing again, watching it disappear without a trace. He put some normal ink back onto his quill and finished the letter.
I don't know how Harry is because I'm sending him a letter the same time as you- if Pig delivers yours first then don't read it- it includes an ongoing discussion about how we think we should turn your hair green and stick you to the wall of the Great Hall during breakfast on April Fool's Day. Ron.
Ron folded up this letter as well and handed both to Pig, who was hopping up and down, mad with excitement. "These are for Harry and Hermione." He said, tying them onto Pig's leg with difficulty. Pig barely gave him time to finish before hopping from the desk and out the window. Ron shook his head and sat back, reflecting on how stupid his owl was.
I apologise profusely (I love that word) for how long this took to get up, and how crap it is. Please review!
Chapter Two-
"Hello? Anyone home?" Fred, George, Ron and Ginny had all been sitting in the living room, but at the sound of their father's voice the four of them jumped up and ran into the kitchen. Arthur Weasley looked completely worn out, and he had a few more strands of grey hair than before the summer, but his face broke into a smile when they rushed in to greet him. "Dad!" Ginny cried, rushing at him to give him a hug. Mr Weasley hugged his only daughter tightly. "Hi Ginny. How are you?" He asked, as they broke apart. Ginny shrugged. "I'm Ok. Are you? You look like death warmed up." She said with concern. Arthur rolled his eyes. "Tell me what you really think." He said sarcastically, turning to his sons. Fred, George and Ron were a little more reserved than Ginny as they greeted their father. For example, they didn't rush at him and give him big hugs. Arthur smiled brightly and acted normally, but the three boys all silently agreed with their sister- he did look awful. "So how's it going Dad?" Ron asked as they all sat down at the kitchen table. Mr Weasley sighed as he ran a hand through what was left of his hair. "Er. fine. Things are a bit hectic at work, but apart from that." He said. It didn't take a genius to tell that he was lying. Fred rolled his eyes. "Come on Dad. Dumbledore told us about You-Know-Who." He said. Mr Weasley looked up in surprise. "He did? Well, that was unexpected." He said a little helplessly. Ron leant forward. "Is Fudge budging yet?" He asked. Mr Weasley looked up at Ron in even greater surprise. "How on earth do you know about.oh. Of course. You're our man on the inside, aren't you? Well, it's not good. I'm afraid that the majority of the Ministry agree with Fudge, and the ones who do believe Dumbledore and me would prefer to agree with Fudge. I don't know what to do." He said. Ron slumped back into his chair as his siblings began to ask questions. They, of course, hadn't been present in the hospital wing when Fudge had declared the whole situation ridiculous, and so they did not know that the minister for Magic refused to believe the horrible truth. "What are you talking about?" Ginny asked her father with a frown. Mr Weasley sighed heavily and began to explain. "Well, Mr Fudge, he, he doesn't believe that You-Know-Who has risen." He said wearily. Fred, George and Ginny simultaneously rolled their eyes and sat back in their chairs. They didn't need to ask how Ron had known before them- Harry would have known and Harry told he and Hermione everything. Mr Weasley went onto explain the various ways he and Alastor Moody were thinking of to convince people that what was happening was real, but Ron found he didn't really want to listen. It was all too close to home for him. The last time You-Know-Who had been around, he'd been a baby and hadn't been too bothered about it. But now he was fifteen and best friends with number one on You-Know-Who's hit list. He needed to get away from it. Ron pushed his chair back and walked through into the living room, thinking absent-mindedly of creating some new chess moves. He walked in to find his mother sitting next to the fire, knitting a (yuck) maroon sock. Ron had a feeling he knew who it was for. Ron didn't feel like company right now, and was about to turn around and go upstairs when his mother looked up. "Hello dear." She said, smiling at him. Ron smiled back. "Hi mum." He said, walking towards the table his chessboard and playing pieces stood on. He picked them up and turned to leave when his mother spoke again. "How do you think Harry is doing?" She asked him, sounding concerned. Ron shrugged. "I don't know." He said truthfully. He didn't know- but it was to be assumed that Harry was quite worried. Ron was heading towards the door. "How are you doing?" Mrs Weasley asked. Ron paused, wondering how to answer the question. "Fine." He said finally, stepping out of the room quickly and hurrying up the stairs.
~*~ Harry, How are you? It's only a day into the holidays, and I'm already pretty bored. We were going to play Quidditch this morning, but it was pouring with rain, and of course Mum wouldn't let us out, so that idea went out the window and got soaked.
Ron paused, thinking what to say next. He had been going to put some of the things his father had told him last night, but then thought Harry wouldn't want to be reminded of it all. Not that he could forget. shaking his head, Ron resumed writing, trying to keep things light.
How's the operation going? I was thinking of taking a leaf out of Hermione's book and founding a society. It's called Society with the Intention of Committing Killings of Ugly People. (S.I.C.K.U.P for short). This society would include your family, You-Know-Who and of course Draco Malfoy. What do you think? Ron
Ron folded up the letter and put it to one side. Taking a second piece of parchment, he began a letter to Hermione.
Hermione, How are you? I don't know what the weather's like in London, but it's pouring down in Ottery St. Catchpole. But being stuck indoors has it's upside- I get to walk around proudly wearing my spew badge for all to see.
Ron paused in the middle of this letter as well. Should he tell Hermione about the ministry? Would she want to know anything? Deciding that Hermione always wanted to know everything, Ron carried on.
My Dad says hardly anyone believes him and Dumbledore, so things at the Ministry are really great. (Sarcasm). I really hate all this tension.
Ron stopped writing. Why had he written that? OK, he didn't like the feeling in the house, but that was no reason to go telling everyone. He loaded his quill with eraser-ink and went over the writing again, watching it disappear without a trace. He put some normal ink back onto his quill and finished the letter.
I don't know how Harry is because I'm sending him a letter the same time as you- if Pig delivers yours first then don't read it- it includes an ongoing discussion about how we think we should turn your hair green and stick you to the wall of the Great Hall during breakfast on April Fool's Day. Ron.
Ron folded up this letter as well and handed both to Pig, who was hopping up and down, mad with excitement. "These are for Harry and Hermione." He said, tying them onto Pig's leg with difficulty. Pig barely gave him time to finish before hopping from the desk and out the window. Ron shook his head and sat back, reflecting on how stupid his owl was.
I apologise profusely (I love that word) for how long this took to get up, and how crap it is. Please review!