Ron and me... we don't own each other or claim to own each other. So we're
cool him and me. So, hopefully J.K. Rowling is cool with that too.
Chapter 5 – The Ominously Mysterious Miracle
Ron chewed happily on the bit of molded chocolate, enjoying the warm, thick, stickiness melting in his mouth. After a few seconds, however, a strange tingling filled his mouth, sliding all the way down his throat which was quickly followed by an overwhelming bitterness. The taste almost made him gag.
"Ugh!" he cried, stumbling to his feet. For fear he'd be sick, he quickly closed the trunk, threw the clothes back on top and rushed out of the room, slamming the door. He ran downstairs and to the bathroom. He leaned over the toilet, but gratefully he didn't throw up. Ron rubbed his clammy white cheeks. He really needed to stay away from magically tainted food.
Ron trudged to his room and changed into his pajamas. He felt strangely weak and he started to really worry about what had been in that chocolate frog. Maybe he could sleep it off. He fell into his soft, lumpy bed, pulled the covers up over his head and was instantly asleep.
Ron awoke very slowly. At first he heard people talking around him.
"It's been three days. What do you think's the matter?"
"I don't know. Wait. Look. He's comin' 'round."
Ron struggled to open his eyes, which were all that was visible from beneath the blanket, and was confronted by a grinning Fred and George.
"Had quite a nap there, now didn't you, Ron?"
"What are you talking about?" he mumbled from beneath his covers.
"You've been knocked out for three days. What'd you do? Stun yourself?"
"No." He struggled to sit up, the blanket falling away.
"Oy." Fred and George's eyes went wide as they stared at their little brother. "That's not good."
"No. Wait till Mum sees. She'll go bezerk." The boys laughed, shaking their heads.
"What?" Ron asked, suspicious. The boys ignored him.
"We should probably warn her." Mrs. Weasley's voice came from down the hall.
"Ron, are you awake?"
"Too late," the twins said in unison and continued to stare with humoristic glee. Mrs. Weasley bustled in with a tray of tea.
"Oh, good, darling, you're awake - " She dropped the tray with a crash, causing everyone to jump, and screamed at the top of her lungs.
"My baby! What's happened to you?" Ron panicked.
"What? What?!" She turned to Fred and George who were trying to smother their laughter in the corner.
"You!" She pointed a shaking, furious finger at them. "This is the last straw!"
"No! Mum," Fred protested. "I swear it wasn't us!" Ron saw what was happening and knew he needed to step in.
"No, Mum, it's okay. They didn't do anything," he said, even though he didn't know what "anything" was. She huffed.
"I'm going to consult my remedy book." Mrs. Weasley murmured tearfully and left the room. George spoke up.
"I'd keep the look if I were you, mate."
"What are you talking about?" Ron asked irritably. He got up from his bed, feeling much better than before he fell asleep and headed to the loo. His brothers followed him closely.
Almost afraid to look in the mirror, he looked anyway. What he saw made his heart stop.
The reflection staring back at him was that of a handsome chiseled face with a day's growth of golden red facial hair. His eyes were a dazzling blue and when he smiled at his reflection, he almost took his own breath away.
"Hang on! What the- Is this really me?" he asked, his voice cracking. The next time he spoke his voice was half an octave lower. "What's happened?" He touched his scraggly face to see if it was real and it was.
"We don't know," his brothers replied with an innocent shrug. A giggle bubbled up in Ron's throat and he started laughing. He laughed until he cried. It was when he reached up to wipe away the tears that he saw a muscle bulge in his arm.
Impatiently, he ripped off his nightshirt and flexed in the mirror. He laughed again and spun around to see his brothers studying him, Fred stroking his chin as if he had a foot long beard.
"Just look at me!" Ron cried in triumph. "I have something flex! At last! LOOK at me! I have MUSCLES!"
Just then Mrs. Weasley wandered in, her nose stuck in a very large book.
"It says here there's a way to find out what's caused this, Ronald. We'll have you back to normal in no time, dear. And if I can't fix you, it's off to St. Mungo's for you!" Ron froze.
"Uh – Mum. I feel fine actually. There's no need to panic. I've just hit a growth spurt that's all."
"I have seven children, Ron, and that was no growth spurt!" Her chin started to tremble. "I mean, just look at you!" She surveyed her handsome, chiseled, shirtless son and burst into tears. Feeling a tad bit guilty, and suspecting that the chocolate frog was responsible for all this, he patted his mother on the back.
"Really, Mum, everything will be all right. It'll wear off, I'm sure of it." She threw her arms around Ron and continued to sob. Helpless, he looked over to the twins who were deep in a whispered conversation. Suddenly, they turned to him with bright smiles on their faces. George attempted to comfort his mother.
"Look, Mum, Fred and I are a bit expert in areas such as this. We'll take care of Ron and figure out what he's done. We'll have him back to normal in no time at all. In the mean time, we need to have him under close observation in case something comes up. What do you say?" Mrs. Weasley let go of Ron, sniffling.
"Well, I suppose that will be all right. We'll see what your father says when he comes home." Just then a voice shouted out from downstairs in the kitchen.
"I'm home!" Mrs. Weasley wiped her face.
"Good, your father's home already. He's early." She bustled out of the bathroom. Ron regarded his brothers suspiciously.
"What was that all about? What have you two got in mind?" Fred grinned at him.
"We just thought you might want to enjoy your good looks while you still have them. We were going to go clubbing tonight. Mum's already agreed."
"Besides," George added. "You're under observation." Ron was a little surprised.
"You want me to hang out with you?
"Sure!" At that moment Mr. Weasley called up to the boys.
"Come downstairs, you three and tell me what your mother's going on about!" Ron followed the twins, trying to hide himself from his father's gaze, but of course that didn't work. As soon as they entered the kitchen, Mr. Weasley's eyes went directly to Ron. Mr. Weasley, who was sitting at the table, stood in shock.
"Why, Ronald – what's happened? Would you look at that? He's the spitting image of me at that age!!"
"Oh, don't ridiculous, Arthur! You looked nothing like that! And believe me I know!" Mrs. Weasley stated crossly. Mr. Weasley turned to his wife.
"What do you mean I looked nothing like that? Of course I did!" Fred and George grabbed Ron's arm and they snuck out of the kitchen's back door.
"Look, mate we've got to be off to work, but if we were you, we'd run off about now." The twins looked at each other and Fred leaned closer to Ron.
"If you want to get some quidditch practice in - " George butted in.
"And goodness knows you need it." Fred continued.
"Then some of our old, but good, broomsticks are in the shed. We'll be back around 7 tonight to pick you up. Later!" And before Ron had a chance to say anything they had disaparrated with a pop.
Deep in thought, Ron made his way over to the shed. He wondered if Fred and George, with their sudden friendliness toward him, knew anything of why he was in this predicament. Ron forgot everything when he opened the door to the shed. There, in a neat little stack were their old brooms. Nimbus 2000s and Firebolt (which had just been outdated by the unfathomably faster Dragonblaze). Ron was breathless as he reached out to touch one of the Firebolts. How horribly jealous he had been when Harry had gotten one from Sirius. His friend had been kind enough to take him for a ride, but that was nothing compared to flying one yourself.
Ron grasped the ebony handle and felt it vibrate at his touch. It wanted to be ridden. He could feel it. Ron gently removed it from the shed, and swung his leg over the broomstick, uncaring as to the fact that he was shirtless and still in his pajamas. With a soft tap of his bare feet the broom shot off into the sky, leaving Ron's stomach on the ground. He and the broom soared above the treetops and straight into the atmosphere, leaving England far below. He yelled at the top of his lungs, delirious and giddy from the rush. He couldn't remember ever being so happy.
Okee dokee, folks! Good times, good fun, but now REVIEWING must be done! Chapter 6 coming soon!
Chapter 5 – The Ominously Mysterious Miracle
Ron chewed happily on the bit of molded chocolate, enjoying the warm, thick, stickiness melting in his mouth. After a few seconds, however, a strange tingling filled his mouth, sliding all the way down his throat which was quickly followed by an overwhelming bitterness. The taste almost made him gag.
"Ugh!" he cried, stumbling to his feet. For fear he'd be sick, he quickly closed the trunk, threw the clothes back on top and rushed out of the room, slamming the door. He ran downstairs and to the bathroom. He leaned over the toilet, but gratefully he didn't throw up. Ron rubbed his clammy white cheeks. He really needed to stay away from magically tainted food.
Ron trudged to his room and changed into his pajamas. He felt strangely weak and he started to really worry about what had been in that chocolate frog. Maybe he could sleep it off. He fell into his soft, lumpy bed, pulled the covers up over his head and was instantly asleep.
Ron awoke very slowly. At first he heard people talking around him.
"It's been three days. What do you think's the matter?"
"I don't know. Wait. Look. He's comin' 'round."
Ron struggled to open his eyes, which were all that was visible from beneath the blanket, and was confronted by a grinning Fred and George.
"Had quite a nap there, now didn't you, Ron?"
"What are you talking about?" he mumbled from beneath his covers.
"You've been knocked out for three days. What'd you do? Stun yourself?"
"No." He struggled to sit up, the blanket falling away.
"Oy." Fred and George's eyes went wide as they stared at their little brother. "That's not good."
"No. Wait till Mum sees. She'll go bezerk." The boys laughed, shaking their heads.
"What?" Ron asked, suspicious. The boys ignored him.
"We should probably warn her." Mrs. Weasley's voice came from down the hall.
"Ron, are you awake?"
"Too late," the twins said in unison and continued to stare with humoristic glee. Mrs. Weasley bustled in with a tray of tea.
"Oh, good, darling, you're awake - " She dropped the tray with a crash, causing everyone to jump, and screamed at the top of her lungs.
"My baby! What's happened to you?" Ron panicked.
"What? What?!" She turned to Fred and George who were trying to smother their laughter in the corner.
"You!" She pointed a shaking, furious finger at them. "This is the last straw!"
"No! Mum," Fred protested. "I swear it wasn't us!" Ron saw what was happening and knew he needed to step in.
"No, Mum, it's okay. They didn't do anything," he said, even though he didn't know what "anything" was. She huffed.
"I'm going to consult my remedy book." Mrs. Weasley murmured tearfully and left the room. George spoke up.
"I'd keep the look if I were you, mate."
"What are you talking about?" Ron asked irritably. He got up from his bed, feeling much better than before he fell asleep and headed to the loo. His brothers followed him closely.
Almost afraid to look in the mirror, he looked anyway. What he saw made his heart stop.
The reflection staring back at him was that of a handsome chiseled face with a day's growth of golden red facial hair. His eyes were a dazzling blue and when he smiled at his reflection, he almost took his own breath away.
"Hang on! What the- Is this really me?" he asked, his voice cracking. The next time he spoke his voice was half an octave lower. "What's happened?" He touched his scraggly face to see if it was real and it was.
"We don't know," his brothers replied with an innocent shrug. A giggle bubbled up in Ron's throat and he started laughing. He laughed until he cried. It was when he reached up to wipe away the tears that he saw a muscle bulge in his arm.
Impatiently, he ripped off his nightshirt and flexed in the mirror. He laughed again and spun around to see his brothers studying him, Fred stroking his chin as if he had a foot long beard.
"Just look at me!" Ron cried in triumph. "I have something flex! At last! LOOK at me! I have MUSCLES!"
Just then Mrs. Weasley wandered in, her nose stuck in a very large book.
"It says here there's a way to find out what's caused this, Ronald. We'll have you back to normal in no time, dear. And if I can't fix you, it's off to St. Mungo's for you!" Ron froze.
"Uh – Mum. I feel fine actually. There's no need to panic. I've just hit a growth spurt that's all."
"I have seven children, Ron, and that was no growth spurt!" Her chin started to tremble. "I mean, just look at you!" She surveyed her handsome, chiseled, shirtless son and burst into tears. Feeling a tad bit guilty, and suspecting that the chocolate frog was responsible for all this, he patted his mother on the back.
"Really, Mum, everything will be all right. It'll wear off, I'm sure of it." She threw her arms around Ron and continued to sob. Helpless, he looked over to the twins who were deep in a whispered conversation. Suddenly, they turned to him with bright smiles on their faces. George attempted to comfort his mother.
"Look, Mum, Fred and I are a bit expert in areas such as this. We'll take care of Ron and figure out what he's done. We'll have him back to normal in no time at all. In the mean time, we need to have him under close observation in case something comes up. What do you say?" Mrs. Weasley let go of Ron, sniffling.
"Well, I suppose that will be all right. We'll see what your father says when he comes home." Just then a voice shouted out from downstairs in the kitchen.
"I'm home!" Mrs. Weasley wiped her face.
"Good, your father's home already. He's early." She bustled out of the bathroom. Ron regarded his brothers suspiciously.
"What was that all about? What have you two got in mind?" Fred grinned at him.
"We just thought you might want to enjoy your good looks while you still have them. We were going to go clubbing tonight. Mum's already agreed."
"Besides," George added. "You're under observation." Ron was a little surprised.
"You want me to hang out with you?
"Sure!" At that moment Mr. Weasley called up to the boys.
"Come downstairs, you three and tell me what your mother's going on about!" Ron followed the twins, trying to hide himself from his father's gaze, but of course that didn't work. As soon as they entered the kitchen, Mr. Weasley's eyes went directly to Ron. Mr. Weasley, who was sitting at the table, stood in shock.
"Why, Ronald – what's happened? Would you look at that? He's the spitting image of me at that age!!"
"Oh, don't ridiculous, Arthur! You looked nothing like that! And believe me I know!" Mrs. Weasley stated crossly. Mr. Weasley turned to his wife.
"What do you mean I looked nothing like that? Of course I did!" Fred and George grabbed Ron's arm and they snuck out of the kitchen's back door.
"Look, mate we've got to be off to work, but if we were you, we'd run off about now." The twins looked at each other and Fred leaned closer to Ron.
"If you want to get some quidditch practice in - " George butted in.
"And goodness knows you need it." Fred continued.
"Then some of our old, but good, broomsticks are in the shed. We'll be back around 7 tonight to pick you up. Later!" And before Ron had a chance to say anything they had disaparrated with a pop.
Deep in thought, Ron made his way over to the shed. He wondered if Fred and George, with their sudden friendliness toward him, knew anything of why he was in this predicament. Ron forgot everything when he opened the door to the shed. There, in a neat little stack were their old brooms. Nimbus 2000s and Firebolt (which had just been outdated by the unfathomably faster Dragonblaze). Ron was breathless as he reached out to touch one of the Firebolts. How horribly jealous he had been when Harry had gotten one from Sirius. His friend had been kind enough to take him for a ride, but that was nothing compared to flying one yourself.
Ron grasped the ebony handle and felt it vibrate at his touch. It wanted to be ridden. He could feel it. Ron gently removed it from the shed, and swung his leg over the broomstick, uncaring as to the fact that he was shirtless and still in his pajamas. With a soft tap of his bare feet the broom shot off into the sky, leaving Ron's stomach on the ground. He and the broom soared above the treetops and straight into the atmosphere, leaving England far below. He yelled at the top of his lungs, delirious and giddy from the rush. He couldn't remember ever being so happy.
Okee dokee, folks! Good times, good fun, but now REVIEWING must be done! Chapter 6 coming soon!