Author: Eilla
Rating: PG
Summary: PS, chapters 6 and 7 – when Harry met Ron. But this time, from Ron's POV.
Author's Notes: This is a Harry-Ron friendship story, but some might see it as pre-slash. :) Also, this story isn't so nice to Hermione, as we all know what was thought of her in the beginning, just to warn you. I don't actually hate Hermione. Merci beaucoup, mes beta lecteurs: Grey Spirit – yes, you do write well, and thanks for your help. ::huggles!:: Evil-Katt – the slash is all for you baby! ::veg:: Emma – you're such a nitpicker. Thanks! :) You help me get my thoughts across clearer. Lainey – such nice praise. Good puppy! ::patpat:: Jeff – for reading for quality instead of paying attention to spelling and grammar. ::squee!:: And for Asmodeus, who still thinks (WRONGLY!) of Ron's characterization here, but kept my butt going when I was way too lazy. You'll be getting the brownies a little later, just for that.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. Ohhhhhhh, how I wish they were, all the fun I could have – ahem. Oh well.
Archive: Feel free, all I ask in return is a little note to know where it's going.
Feedback is very much appreciated!
I didn't believe them one bit.
That small, frazzy-haired boy with the huge eyes, that had to ask my mum how to find the train - Harry Potter himself? Leave it to Fred and George to try and trick me my first time going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I made up my mind to find who he actually was.
After walking up and down the corridor, looking through all the frosted windows on the compartment doors, I spotted him near the end.
I opened the door, and walked in – and he stared up at me. I don't know how long I stood there, but I finally managed to point at the empty seat across from him, and ask "Anyone sitting there? Everywhere else is full." Which wasn't true, but oh well.
He shook his head and I sat down. I gave him a good once-over – he was really short, with pale skin, and bug-eye goggles of eyeglasses. And his hair absolutely defied gravity.
He caught me glancing him though, and I turned my head away but I'm sure my face looked like a big, freckly maraschino cherry. He probably thinks I'm a freak for staring.
I didn't hear the door open again to admit my two favorite brothers. "Hey, Ron. Listen, we're going down the middle of the train – Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."
I gripped the edge of the seat and mumbled something. I hate spiders; I just know they brought it up to annoy me.
"Harry, did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."
The two of us said bye, and then fell back into staring at each other. Was he really – the twins usually got bored with most jokes, and didn't carry them out for long. And Fred had sounded serious –
"Are you really Harry Potter?" Yes, Ron. Just blurt it out like that; you win the Most Witty Wizard of the Year award. Bravo.
But the boy nodded!
"Oh – well," I couldn't believe it, it was him, I was sitting across from a celebrity! "I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes." I tried not to stumble, tried to be cool, for once. "And have you really got – you know..." I pointed to his head.
Harry nonchalantly pushed up his bangs, and I saw it – his scar was anything but nonchalant. A little to the left of center, it was a jagged, bumply dark brown lighting bolt of angry, raised tissue. It was awesome.
"So that's where You-Know-Who –?"
"Yes, but I can't remember it."
Oh for cryin' out loud, the most spectacular defeat of the century, and he can't even remember? "Nothing?" I prompted.
"Well – I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."
"Wow." Green light – that was from the Killing Curse, I knew that at least. He could remember the Killing Curse. Wow. This was so cool –
He caught me staring at him, and I quickly went to studying the very interesting, blurry cityscape of London right outside the window.
"Are all your family wizards?" he asked. I was a little startled – did he think my family had some Squibs? I suppose we didn't look as all-powerful as his family, but he did seem polite about it.
"Er – yes, I think so. I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him." There, that was a good answer. I wasn't lying – Mum and Dad were big on lying – but it was a proper answer, and it made us look better.
Harry said, excitedly, "So you must know loads of magic already." I blinked – what, he didn't? I tried asking him about himself, instead.
"I heard you went to live with Muggles. What are they like?"
"Horrible – well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."
"Five." Merlin, back to this situation. Perfect Prefect Percy had been nagging me all summer about how I needed to help 'uphold the Weasley family honor.' As if he were the prime example himself, the priss. And Dad and Mum had been telling tales of all the wonderful things Charlie and Bill had accomplished when they were at Hogwarts.
He looked really interested though. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts," I told him. I felt compelled to say more. "You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and every thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat." I stopped to take a breath. I'd never said all that about myself, to anyone. But Harry still looked interested, and maybe a little... sympathetic? Was he? Yeah... you know, for a famous person, he wasn't all that pompous.
I decided to show him Scabbers. "His name's Scabbers," I introduced Harry to my rat, "and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff- I mean, I got Scabbers instead."
Cripes. You just like to hear the sound of your own voice, don't you Weasley? You just love to talk way too much, even when people are tired of listening and are annoyed at hearing all your problems blurted out. I went back to safely staring out the window.
"It – it's ok." Harry sounded kind of uncertain. "I didn't have any money either, until Hagrid took me to my parents vault in Gringotts where they had – they had some money left for me. And I'd never had any pets either until Hagrid bought me Hedwig, as a birthday present. So, I guess that's one thing we've got that in common, huh?"
I turned back to him. I, Ronald Weasley, had something in common with Harry Potter? But... I guess it was true.
"Besides, look at me! I'm wearing all of Dudley's old clothes. Aren't they awful?" He gestured to himself, and I saw, for the first time, that was part of the reason he looked so tiny.
"Harry," I said, and his name rolled kind of tingly off my tongue, using just his first name, and I hoped that I was being amusing, "those clothes are tailored for a baby elephant. What the hell does your cousin look like?"
He grinned. Harry Potter though I was funny!
"He's like the size of a baby whale, huge and watery-looking, 'cause he sweats and his eyes are beady. Little Duddy-kins practically has to walk sideways to get through doorways."
We both snorted at the idea. "Too bad he doesn't just float away whenever he goes outside, like the gigantic balloon he is."
Harry threw back his head, laughing. "Or popped!"
"Yeah, and then everything he ever ate would come flying out and cover half the town!"
"He could feed a small country by sacrificing his life!"
I fell sideways a little, propping myself up with my elbow, I was laughing so badly. I told him all about Percy, and we agreed that Mama's Boys really needed to be thwacked upside the head ever once in awhile. I stopped laughing when he said that until Hagrid, he'd never gotten a birthday present – just what kind of people were he living with? At least I knew a little of what that was like, there were so many of us that birthdays usually consisted of lots of treats and new, knitted socks and sweaters. We promised each other that we would try and save up to get something at least remotely cool for each other at Christmas time. That was sort of nice, actually.
Harry started telling me all about how Hagrid scared the dickens out of his uncle, aunt, and cousin, and we added Mr. Piggly-Wiggly to the list of names we came up with for Dudley, after Dudley Do-Right (Harry's) and The Great White Hugeback (mine).
"... and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort –"
I gasped.
"What?"
"You said You-Know-Who's name!" Was he mad? Or – maybe, he really was that brave. I mean, he did defeat the wizard when he was a baby. "I'd have though you, of all people –"
"I'm not trying to be brave, or anything, saying the name." Oh, well, scratch that theory. "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn... I bet – I bet I'm the worst in the class."
He sounded so dejected, but if anyone was going to be the worst in our year, it was probably going to be me. "You won't be," I assured him. Harry Potter shouldn't be nervous. "There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough."
Harry kind of sagged back into his seat, but he looked relieved. We didn't talk for a while. I got nervous again – had we really laughed together like old buddies? I probably imaged a scene were he was just being polite. Outside, we had the nice view of the English countryside. England has a lot of cows.
I started a little when the door slid back to reveal a pleasant looking woman with a cart full of – treats. I willed myself not to drool. "Anything off the cart, dears?"
Harry jumped to his feet and immediately went over to buy something. I didn't have any money for sweets – Mum had nothing to give any of us, and I only had some sandwiches. I really wanted some chocolate, but...
I noticed that he brought an armload of candy over and dumped it right next to him.
"Hungry, are you?"
"Starving," and he looked briefly at the packaging of a Pumpkin Pasty before tearing it open and biting into it.
My stomach rumbled looking at him eat, so I took my sandwiches out of my pocket. Placing them in my lap, I picked at each of them, because I knew my mum had put corned beef in them all even though I hate corned beef, and I told Harry that when he watched what I was doing.
"Swap you for one of these." He held up one of his Pasties – a Strawberry one, this time. "Go on –"
"You don't want this, it's all dry," I said quickly. I knew that look in his eyes, it was the same as people we passed on the street, and when Dad's co-workers came over for dinner. "She hasn't got much time, you know, with five of us."
"Go on, have a pasty." He leaned over and dropped it in my lap. I picked it up – I usually only got Pasties on my birthday and Christmas, Chocolate Frogs are much cheaper. I tore off the plastic and devoured it, savoring the gooey tart middle that made my tongue twist.
"Here," I looked back up at Harry, he was gesturing to the other side of the sweets, "you can help me finish them off."
"Oh no, they're yours, you paid for them –"
"I can't eat it all," he said to me. So why'd he buy all of it, then? But I wrapped up my sandwiches and sat on the same seat as him. He'd really gotten everything – and, well, he'd invited me to eat so I was certainly going to take him up on the offer. Harry didn't seem to mind at all I was eating more of his food than he was.
I told him all 'bout the cards in Chocolate Frogs, getting him started on a collection, and warned him about Every Flavor Beans. I tried showing him how to make a bubble with Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, like Fred and George had taught me, but Harry just blew through his teeth and looked exasperated. He marveled at my ability to make a bubble as big as my face, and I carefully poked the shifting-color material to chew it again.
Harry and I were busy demolishing his Licorice Wands – you're supposed to tilt your head back and they spit juice in your mouth, before they go empty and you can have the licorice, but it's much more fun to aim up in the air and try and catch it in your mouth – when the door opened again and this miserable looking, pudgy boy asked us if we'd seen a toad, although we hadn't.
"I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!" He seemed as though he were about to burst out crying. Kind of wimpy, although I don't know what would happen if Scabbers ever ran away, so maybe I was being too hard.
"He'll turn up," Harry told him.
"Yes. Well, if you see him..." he trailed off and left.
"Don't know why he's so bothered," I said hurriedly. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk. He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference. I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."
Harry's eyes grew wide behind his glasses at hearing about the spell, and I rushed to get Charlie's... well, my wand, out to show it to him. It was completely battered from all the times he had spent time in the Forbidden Forest with who knew what kind of creatures he was trying to capture. Or ride.
"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway –"
I raised my wand and he leaned forward. "Sunsh-"
The door opened again, with a bit more force. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one."
Erm, hadn't we been through this already? "We already told him we haven't seen it," I told her, for it was a girl. She was already dressed in her uniform and school robes, and hair to rival Harry's. It was like she made a point of never brushing her hair after waking up, and then purposely going outside and getting stuck by lighting.
"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."
"Er –"
She had plopped down across from us, like she was one of my cousins, except I didn't even know her name! Fine then, if she wanted to see some magic, I'd show her.
"All right." I cleared my throat. I pointed my wand at Scabbers, and said loudly:
"Sunshine, daises, butter mellow,
turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."
I waited.
Nothing happened.
Oh great. Why couldn't I remember that any spell from my brothers wouldn't work right?
"Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good, is it?" Shut up, shut up, shut up! Not with Harry Potter in the same compartment, at least! "I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard – I've learned all our course books by heart, of course," this girl was insane, "I just hope it will be enough – I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"
"I'm Ron Weasley," now leave us alone.
"Harry Potter."
"Are you really? I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."
Harry looked a little bewildered. "Am I?"
"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me. Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon." Apparently she didn't need to breathe either.
I hurled my wand back into my trunk as soon and she left. "Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it. Stupid spell – George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."
"What house are your brothers in?"
"Gryffindor. Mum and Dad were in it, too." Practically the whole Weasley family was Gryffindor. "I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin." I didn't say anything about how I thought it probably would go – because I wasn't brave enough for Gryffindor, I wasn't smart enough for Ravenclaw, and I'd lick a toilet seat before ever letting myself go into Slytherin – and that left the House of Pansies, where I was doomed to spend my next seven years around people like – like, Neville for example.
"That's the house Vol- I mean, You-Know-Who was in?"
What, Hufflepuff? Oh. "Yeah."
"You know," he pointed at my rat, "I think the ends of Scabbers' whiskers are a bit lighter." That was absolute baloney, but hey, I wasn't about to point it out. "So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?" he asked.
"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts. Did you hear about Gringotts?" I said, remembering the morning paper. "It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles – someone tried to rob a high security vault."
He seemed interested, but it all was for squat once I learned he didn't know what Quidditch was. Some things are just more important than a bank robbery, you know?
"So there are seven players, right? The Keeper, who guards the goals, the two Beaters, they smack around the Bludgers, the three Chasers, they pass the Quaffle, and the Seeker, who catches the Snitch." With a critical sport's eye, I evaluated him – no way in hell he could be a Beater, and he was a bit small for a Keeper. He looked fast and dodgy enough for a Chaser, and small enough for a Seeker, although it rather looked that one hit and he'd be out of the game, not good for a Seeker. "Now, despite their record, you really should go for the Chudley Cannons, they –"
"Is it true?"
I didn't even hear the door open. The one that spoke, he was the same height as Harry Potter, with a very pallid complexion. The two trolls beside him looked too stupid to even know how to speak.
"They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"
I thought I saw Harry grimace just a tiny bit. "Yes."
"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle. And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
One – dad was obsessed enough with anything Muggle that we were allowed to go to the movie theater in Ottery St. Catchpole, for half-off movie classic matinees, and I picked up on the James Bond reference, whether Malfoy realized he was quoting a Muggle or not. And two – you don't live as a Weasley and not know who the Malfoys are. Before mocking them.
I couldn't help it, I sniggered, and then tried to end it with a cough. Malfoy eyes lashed sideways to me.
"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children then they can afford." Oh no he did not. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter," Malfoy continued. "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."
He stuck his hand out in front of Harry. And I panicked.
Would he do it? Would Harry Potter become a friend of the Malfoys? He wouldn't. He couldn't – surely he could see that Malfoy was in league with the same people that killed his parents?
Surely he wouldn't take Malfoy for a best friend... I mean, not that it was anything personal, not that I had anything to give. He was a celebrity, and I just met him, on the train, you know?
"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."
Malfoy blushed like a little girl, and now it was my turn to marvel (with pride?) at the downright frigid tone in Harry's voice. Malfoy tried to make a comeback, demeaning Harry's parents and my family, but we were having none of it. We told them to get out.
"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."
Ok, that's it, nobody insults my family and then steals my candy!
I leapt at the one of the brainless buggers as soon as he reached for my Chocolate Frogs, but he screamed before I even touched him. I was awful pleased, until I noticed Scabbers hanging off his finger, holding on by his pointy little teeth. Well, sucks for me, but go Scabbers!
The boy swung around in a circle, flailing his arm and scaring the other two goons away, before Scabbers flew off and hit the window. I went to check on the little champion.
"What has been going on?" I ignored the annoying girl with the afro, who was once again intruding.
"I think he's been knocked out," I told Harry. Then, looking closer, I exclaimed, "No – I don't believe it – he's gone back to sleep!"
Pathetic.
After getting rid of Hermione, Harry and I changed into our school robes. An announcement said we'd be arriving in five minutes. We stuffed our pockets with the last of his sweets, just in case. In case of what, I didn't know.
I don't remember many details about arriving. Off the platform, followed a big, hairy guy, narrow path, down to a lake – my first sight of Hogwarts I do remember. It was huge, looming and mysterious, almost beckoning.
Harry and I got into the same boat. There was the ivy hanging, the underground water tunnel, the rock stairway, meeting Professor McGonagall, the ghost, and Peeves – and walking into the Great Hall.
And seeing the Sorting Hat.
Harry Potter had been picked for Gryffindor. Of course.
I was happy for him though. That's where he belonged.
But I just had sort of hoped we might be in the same house. I mean, it wasn't likely he'd be in Hufflepuff or that I'd be in Gryffindor, but still...
And I wasn't too keen on letting a dingy old hat look into my thoughts, either. What if it shouted out that it was me who ate all the cookie batter last Christmas, or that I once dropped a hammer in Fred's lap and didn't say anything when he yelled at Percy, or what if it just said out loud that I was the bum of my family and didn't deserve to go to Gryffindor?
Stupid hat. Couldn't they just pick our names out of the damned thing instead?
"WEASLEY, RONALD!"
Oh cripes.
"Another Weasley!" I heard a tiny voice say in my ear, and I jumped a bit upon the stool.
Um, yes? I thought.
"Well now, where to place you, young sir..."
Just stick me in Hufflepuff and be done with it, ok? I gloomed.
"Hufflepuff, hmm? You like to work?"
Well –
"Do you like to toil, long and hard?"
Erm –
"But you do – ah yes, you did stand in front of your sister, when you were four, and that Rottweiler rushed up to her, barking and foaming at the mouth?"
I – I did, but anyone – it's not like Ginny could have kicked it herself!
"Then there's no question Mr. Weasley, you undoubtedly belong in –
"GRYFFINDOR!"
I flung the hat off my head and over to Professor McGonagall, and ran over to the Gryffindor table, where the rest of my family, and Harry Potter, were cheering for me.
"Well done, Ronald!" applauded Percy. Fred and George clapped me on the back – hard – and Harry grinned at me.
Hogwarts was going to be ok. Especially if the dinners were anything to go by.
We had gone up to our dorm rooms, and all of us fell asleep almost immediately. A feast and the nice addition of working house elves will do that to you.
I woke the next morning to the alarm set for all Gryffindors – and a huge hole in the sheet.
"I'm getting you a box," I told Scabbers.
I wobbled out of bed, and one look told me it was way too early to begin classes. I was doomed already. Percy had come back last night to show us where the dormitory showers and lavatories were, and I found out that really hot water actually makes you much sleepier. Yay.
Harry and I met up in the common room. We had a few minutes before the rest of the first years showed up, so we could be taken down to the Great Hall for breakfast. I noticed some chessboards set up before the fireplace. "Hey!"
I went over and sat down, and Harry followed suit. "Do you play chess?" I asked.
"Nope."
"I can teach you, if you want." Harry might want somebody more professional, after all.
But he just beamed, and said sure.
"Well, see this first row of tiny ones? These are the pawns," the pawns waved, excited. "Obviously, these are the King and Queen, and this funny–"
"Ron?"
I stopped. "Erm... yes?"
"I – I'm glad I'm in Gryffindor. With you." His head was down, gazing at the chessboard.
My chest suddenly felt very tight. Harry Potter, is glad to... no. Just Harry.
"I'm glad I'm in the same house as you too."
Harry glanced back at me, and I shared the first knowing grin with my best friend.
THE END