DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and co. doesn't belong to me! The names of the Blythes are not mine either!
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Chapter 8: Not Quite There Yet
"Ready?" Harry asked incredulously, wondering if his best friend had finally reached the edge of his sanity.
Ron was pacing around the hearth in a circular pattern, muttering to himself incoherently.
Gillian was sitting on the sofa facing the fireplace, her head in her hands, looking at Ron in pure disbelief.
"Jet, please stop! You're making me dizzy," she pleaded.
Ron stopped mid-step and turned to the little girl. He grunted, in the most impolite way that made Gillian's face contort in annoyance, then proceeded to continue wearing down a path on the Burrow floor.
Thoroughly annoyed, Harry went to Ron and stood in front of his best friend, putting his hands on his shoulders and made him break his stride.
"What on earth is the matter with you? It's only Hermione, mate!" He said, hoping to knock some sense into the troubled redhead. He shook him a bit for good measure. "You know, our best friend, Hermione?"
"Yeah, Jet. You know…M? The one you kissed on the platform?" Gillian added, snickering into her hands.
"Oh yes, you just had to add that in, didn't you?" Ron retorted. "For your information, it was just an accident. I…We…Argh! I didn't mean for it to happen!"
He pushed Harry out of the way and went back to his pacing, ignoring his supposed best friend and sort-of daughter as they slapped each other a high-five, snickering as they did so. Gillian then made kissing sounds, pressing the top of her hand to her lips, repeatedly.
"Some accident. Then why are so worked up about it? Honestly! You're going to tread down a path on your mum's newly polished floor!" Harry remarked, crossing his arms in front of him.
The three of them turned to the sound of footfalls going down the staircase.
"Come on boys, we're to meet Hermione and her parents at the Leaky Cauldron," came the voice of Mr. Weasley. He crossed the living room and headed for the fireplace, taking a waiting Gillian into his arms.
"Come on boys, we're to meet M!" Gillian echoed, putting her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, before they disappeared into the fireplace.
"No time like the present, mate," Harry said, patting Ron on the shoulder. He took a pinch of Floo powder, tucked his glasses into his front pocket with his free hand. He winked a Ron, took a breath before he, too, disappeared.
"Cripes!"
Ron put his arms up, resigned to his fate. Whatever that was.
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By the time Ron had stepped out of the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron, Gillian was in Hermione's arms and the two were giggling at something. Harry and Mr. Weasley were in polite conversation with the Grangers.
Releasing the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Ron walked up to the Grangers. He shook Mr. Granger's hand and bid Mrs. Granger a polite "Good afternoon and Happy holidays, Ma'am".
"Goodness, you're certainly a tall one! What have you been feeding this boy, Arthur?" Mr. Granger remarked, with an amused grin on his face. Mr. Weasley laughed as Ron shrugged. Hermione approached them with Gillian. Ron suddenly stiffened, but if anyone had seen it, no one moved to comment.
"Oh Hermione, you simply must bring that darling girl over to the house for the summer!" exclaimed Mrs. Granger, stroking Gillian's hair with motherly affection.
"I'll talk it over with Ron, mum" Hermione answered, looking at Ron, her brown eyes twinkling at his apparent discomfort.
"Why isn't she affected?" thought Ron. "Why am I the only one acting like an idiot?"
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During Christmas Eve dinner, Gillian called the attention of all those at the table, which was the entire Weasley family plus Harry and Hermione, and stood on her chair to be properly seen by everyone.
"I have an announcement to make," she said, a serious expression on her young face. "See, M, I know how to say announcement."
The expectant, yet amused, faces of the diners and the sudden stop of clanging silverware on the dinner plates told her to continue.
"I have decided to change Jet's name!" she said. "I don't really think he looks like someone who's Just Eaten, Thanks and is not really nice to call him that."
Everyone, except Ron and Gillian, was smiling even more widely into their napkins or covering their mouths with their hands. Charlie was overcome with a sudden bout of hacking cough. Bill pounded him on the back, just in case.
"He's a growing boy and needs all the vitamins and ninny-rals he needs," the little girl continued, solemnly.
"Vitamins and minerals, Gillian," Hermione quietly corrected from Gillian's left.
"That's what I said! He needs his vitamins and ninny-rals, M!" Gillian persisted.
"Here, here!" Ron agreed from Gillian's right, lightly tapping the table with his hand.
"Then what shall you call him then, Gill?" Ginny asked.
She put her right hand on top of Ron's red hair, her left over her heart and said, "I, Gillian Blythe, five years old, special Weasley and Granger daughter, do hereby call Ronald Weasley as 'P'."
On closer inspection, you could see almost everyone biting on the inside of their mouths to keep from succumbing to a fit of laughter, for fear of hurting the feelings of the littlest one. Ron's ear had gone considerable red, trying to determine whether he should scowl or shy away in embarrassment. He decided to close his eye and let the moment pass.
"Erm, Gilly dear, that's a wonderful statement, but why call Ron, 'P'? Mrs. Weasley braved to ask.
Still standing on her chair, Gillian assumed a thinking position and was quiet for a while. Eleven pairs of eyes were focused on her as she thought.
"I just feel like it, I suppose. Besides, M only has one letter, it's only fair that P gets one letter instead of three," she replied.
"All who approve of Gilly calling Ron 'P', say aye!" said Harry.
"Aye!" was the unanimous answer, much to Ron's chagrin.
"Oh goody!" Gilly exclaimed. "I get to Christian him!"
"You mean christen him, luv?" Hermione corrected once more.
"Yeah, that word," she said.
Gillian reached for her water goblet and, placing her hand over Ron, said, "I christen you, Ron Weasley, to be called by me as P!"
She then promptly poured half of the contents of her goblet onto the unsuspecting Ron's head.
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*dodges the rotten tomatoes* erm, hi! it's me again.