Author's Note: Okay, I know! Chapter 7 was disgustingly short! I will try to update faster and with bigger chapters! rubs hands together and cackles You'll never suspect the ending!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!!
Chapter 8 – Quidditch: Weasley Style
Ginny turned away grinning and left the room. Two seconds later Hermione and Harry walked in. They stood at the doorway looking at their shoes. Hermione would try to look Ron in the eye, but she could never quite manage it.
"So, uh, hi," Ron finally said, his deep voice rumbling about the room.
"Hi," his friends said in unison.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Hermione managed to say, forcing herself to look at Ron. She stared at him for a full two seconds and then dropped her eyes again, blushing. Harry finally got a hold of himself.
"Yeah, mate. Why not? We're your best friends aren't we?" He frowned at Ron, making him shift uncomfortably.
"Look, I'm sorry! I only ate a chocolate frog! I didn't expect it to turn out like this! Wouldn't you be in a state of shock if you woke up three days later and looked like this? As you know, even Ginny didn't find out. Mum kept it a secret apparently. She wasn't handling this whole thing very well."
"Well, I don't blame her!" Hermione burst out, and then shut her mouth, once again embarrassed. Ron narrowed his eyes a bit. What was wrong with Hermione? Why was she so weird and embarrassed?
Harry spoke up. "Well, can you at least explain to us everything from the beginning?" So Ron told them everything, from being on the train back home, to finding the chocolate frog, and even to dancing in the club.
"She was twenty-one years old?" Harry exclaimed. "Was she gorgeous?"
Ron grinned. "Oh, yeah. She totally wanted to go out with me, but I had to give her some story about how I was visiting relatives. I didn't know if these looks were going to wear off or not. Couldn't go risking anything like that and all."
Hermione, back to her old self, rolled her eyes. "Oh, please! Of course your couldn't risk it," she said sarcastically. Ron went ahead, ignoring her, and explained the rest of his story up until the moment when he fled the great hall.
"So, you see," Ron finished up, "that despite what people say, I didn't do this on purpose, and I don't know how to change it, or when or if it will wear off."
Hermione put a hand on Ron's arm. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all that, Ron. You know we're always here for you."
"Yeah," Harry said. "Hermione's right. I'm sorry I was such a jerk. I've been a little preoccupied." Ron shrugged.
"It's all water under the bridge, mate. Don't worry about it." In reality he was feeling guilty about all the evil thoughts he'd had against Harry, and here was his friend being so decent to him. He felt quite ashamed, but he wasn't going to let that little secret out. "Oh, hey, Harry?" he clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "How about a game of quidditch later on tonight?"
Harry glanced at him nervously. "A-are you sure? To be honest, I don't want you to blow your head off at me again."
Ron laughed. "Oh, don't worry. I'm feeling much better. Not to mention... you haven't seen me play quidditch in this body." Ignoring Harry's surprised look he said, "Well, I guess I better go out and face the mob."
Hermione nodded. "We're right behind you."
Harry smiled. "That's right, mate." Ron grinned. He couldn't have asked for better friends.
Slowly, with determination in every step, Ron approached the door, opened it and strode out to the landing. He went down the stairs, followed by his friends, and stepped into the common room, which was filled with Gryffindors. They stared at him. He smiled nervously, but of course to all the girls in the room this was the most adorable thing they'd ever seen.
"Hey, Ron, you wanna go out sometime?" one girl spoke up from the crowd.
"Uh..." Ron hesitated, his eyes searching for Lydia. Actually, now, confronted by all these people, he felt a desperate need to talk to her. "Excuse me," he said, and pushed his way through the crowd. Every eye followed him as he searched. Girls giggled, fluttered their eyelashes, but he ignored them all. Where was she?
He finally found her at the back, her face drawn, eyelashes wet from tears. She glared at him, looking confused and hurt. "Lydia, I -"
"How could you?!" She burst out. "You didn't have to do anything to impress me! It's just disgusting, that's what it is! And you can just forget about trying to talk to me!" She turned away in a huff and swept up to her room leaving Ron open-mouthed.
"But it wasn't on purpose!" he called after her in vain. He hung his head. Nothing was turning out as he'd hoped. The next thing he knew, Harry had clapped his hand on his shoulder.
"Come on, Ron. Go get your broom. Let's play some quidditch and forget about girls, huh?" Ron nodded solemnly. Ron turned to head up to his room. The crowd let him through, still staring.
"Come on!" Harry hollered. "Leave him alone already! Go study, or whatever!" There were moans of disappointment, but they more or less obeyed. When Ron came back downstairs with his Firebolt the room was less crowded. Even though dozens of eyes still followed him and he could hear people whispering, everyone pretty much left him alone. He followed Harry out of the common room. Harry turned to Ron, noticing the broom.
"Wow, Ron! You've got a Firebolt too? That's smashing! Now you'll really be able to keep up!" Ron grinned despite himself.
"I'm pretty sure it was a guilt offering from Fred and George. I'm going to enjoy it thoroughly. Besides, they've got a pair of Dragonblazes in the shed back home."
"The Dragonblaze? No way! That's the new broom that came out just last month isn't it?"
They chatted happily all the way down to the quidditch pitch. They mounted their brooms and shot into the sky at the same incredible speed. They flew in circles, chasing each other and laughing like a pair of little kids.
"Doesn't this feel awesome?!" Harry shouted.
"You have no idea!" Ron yelled in return and finally flew over to the end of the pitch. Harry launched the quaffle at Ron who blocked it with a fancy flip of the broom.
"Great one!" Harry yelled. "Try this one on for size!" And he smashed the quaffle with the tail of his broom. The quaffle sped at Ron's head who immediately dived his broom in a somersault and blocked the quaffle while pointing downward. It was a move called the Somersault Block, was very difficult to maneuver without falling off, and was usually only mastered by professional quidditch players. Harry sat astride his broom, his mouth open with shock.
"Ron!" he flew up to his friend who was upright again and grinning from ear to ear. "That was brilliant! Where did you learn that?"
Ron shrugged. "I didn't. I told you Harry. In this body I can do anything." Harry nodded his head, thoughtful.
"I bet you couldn't do it again," he challenged, an evil smile on his face.
Ron huffed. "Try me, old man!"
Harry flew a ways back and once again launched the quaffle at Ron's head. Ron blocked it in the same manner, only he did two somersaults in a row before launching the quaffle directly back at Harry. It landed squarely in his stomach, knocking out his breath. Harry leaned over his broomstick, barely breathing.
"Harry!" Ron shouted, speeding to his friend. "Are you okay? I'm sorry, mate! I wasn't trying to -"
"It's okay," Harry gasped. "Ron... you – have – to – play at – Friday's game." He sat up a little taller, gradually recovering. "We're playing Slytherin. They won't know what hit 'em." He grinned at Ron and Ron breathed a sigh of relief. Harry was too kind not to blow his top like Ron himself had done before when Harry had hit him with the quaffle.
Ron nodded. "I can't wait! Does Angela know?"
Harry cleared his throat. "It doesn't matter. You're playing whether she likes it or not."
The two boys played for another hour until it was too dark to see. They trooped inside, their brooms slung over their shoulders, exhausted and laughing their heads off at stupid random things. When they entered the Gryffindor empty common room, (after first being once again accosted by the flirting Fat Lady Painting) all was quiet. Harry wished Ron a good night and headed up to bed, but Ron stood frozen, instantly sobered, staring up the girls' dormitory steps. Lydia consumed his mind. He had missed her at home, though he had had other things to mercifully distract him, but now there was nothing. His heart was bursting, wanting to explain to her everything, ask her how she felt about him, tell her how he felt –. He moved to the foot of the girls' stair staring up into the darkness.
Suddenly, without quite knowing what he was doing, he opened his mouth and he started to sing. A beautiful, crystal clear tenor voice filled the room and echoed up the stone stairwell. At first he made up the song, but then he started to sing 'Everything I Do' by Bryan Adams. He'd always made fun of that song, but now the words had meaning to him. He knew that he didn't know the girl very well, but what he did know, was that there was something special about her; something he wanted to get to know better.
He sang and sang. A door from the boys' side opened and someone shouted, "What do you think you're doing? Shut up! I've got a test tomorrow!" Ron ignored them and kept on singing.
Finally, Ginny, Hermione and Lydia's door opened and their three heads popped out. Ginny and Hermione tried to contain their giggles when they saw Ron, singing his heart out, and they pushed Lydia out into the stairwell. She stood awkwardly, blushing. But Ron's beautiful voice eventually won her over. She waved shyly at him, and said at the end of his song, "I'll talk to you tomorrow." And she went back inside, pushing the other two girls ahead of her. Ginny and Hermione put their heads back out and gave him a thumbs-up sign and a grin and went back into their room.
Ron thought his heart would burst. He did a little dance and then made his way up to his room. She talked to him! She was going to talk to him tomorrow! He changed quickly and plopped into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. He sighed. She was so beautiful. The candlelight from the common room had made her eyes sparkle and her hair shine like a halo. He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his handsome, chiseled face.
Ron was awakened by Harry roughly shaking him.
"Ron! Ron! Wake up!" Harry sounded frightened. Ron struggled to open his eyes. Harry's face slowly came into focus, the sun shining from behind his friend's head from the open window, blinding him.
"What?" Ron groaned. He could definitely do with a couple more hours of sleep.
"Ron, what's the matter? Why do you look like that? Is it part of that thing you ate?" Harry's face was creased with worry. Ron sat up with difficulty, slightly alarmed, and wondering why he felt so old. His joints ached like nothing else and his back felt like it was on fire.
"What are you talking about?" He felt like he was replaying the scene back home all over again. He stumbled painfully out of bed to see Seamus and Neville standing in their pajamas staring at him, both looking a bit scared. He frowned and went over to the mirror hanging next to the door.
Ron stared in amazement at himself. He touched his face, now looking as though he was thirty years old, and his beard, a deep red like his hair, had grown back and was much longer than before. "Wow," he whispered. Harry was at his side.
"Are you supposed to do that? Age every other night or something?"
Ron shrugged. "I don't know. It's not like there was an explanation that went with the chocolate frog or anything." He tilted his head in thought. "I wonder where all this is going and where it'll end up?"
Harry frowned. "Something tells me I don't want to know. Regardless, I think you should show Madam Pomphrey."
"No way! If I do that she'll make me go home again, and I promised my mum I was going to be fine."
"Well, you don't look fine," Harry mumbled.
"Uh," Neville spoke up timidly, interrupting the tense mood, "We're going down to be late to breakfast if we don't hurry."
The boys changed quickly, and in the end Harry let Ron borrow his Invisibility Cloak to avoid attention on his way to the boys' lavatory. The three friends stood guard while Ron shaved and brushed his hair. After a quick stop back in their room, the four boys headed down to breakfast.
"So, the next quidditch game is on Friday?" Ron asked, trying to ease back into more normal conversation.
"Yeah," Harry replied. "That means we've only got a few more days to train. You shouldn't have a problem, though." Seamus and Neville, knowing how Ron played before, gave Harry doubtful looks.
"What do you mean he doesn't need to worry about it?" Seamus asked. "I think we all know how Ron plays, no offense or anything, mate."
"None taken," Ron said, suddenly cheerful. "Just come to practice tonight and you'll see for yourself." Seamus shrugged.
The boys entered the great hall. Ron was thrilled to see that Lydia had saved a space beside her for him. He slid in next to her.
"Hi," he said, making his voice go especially deep.
Lydia jumped and blushed. "Oh! Hi...uh." She stared at him for a moment before bursting out, "Is it just me or do you look older than you did last night?"
Ron chuckled, a bit nervously. "It's not just you. Yeah, see I wanted to explain all this to you last night. I ate one of my brothers' experiments and I woke up three days later looking kind of like this. The weird thing is, I seem to keep aging. What do you think? I look thirty don't I? I mean, I look good, but still thirty years old, right?"
Lydia eyed him. "Yes," she said slowly. "I would say that." She delicately sipped her glass of pumpkin juice.
Ron started to butter a piece of toast and was concentrating very hard on it. He might as well just go for it...
"Hey, Lydia, I know things have been a little weird between us, and I'm sure that this stuff with me doesn't help, but I really like you, and I think there's something really special about you. There's a Hogsmeade trip coming up and I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime or something?" He held his breath and waited. His eyes darted up to across the table to see Hermione and Ginny grinning at him and nodding their enthusiastic approval. He managed a weak smile.
Lydia took a deep breath. "Well." Ron finally looked at her – straight into her beautiful face. "I really don't know what my mum and dad would think of me going out with a guy who looks like he's thirty years old and nearly twice my age." She looked into his eyes, her face deadly serious.
Ron's heart sped up a few beats, but in response he stuck his nose up in the air in mock haughtiness, and said, "I can't help it if my looks are ahead of their time." XXOXX
Lydia stared at him, wide-eyed and then suddenly burst out laughing. Hermione, Ginny and Harry joined in, having overheard the conversation. Ron gazed in amazement at his friends, a slight grin on his face. When Lydia finally gained back her voice, she was gasping. "Oh, Ron! That was so funny! You should have seen your face!" She giggled again with a little hiccup, wiping tears from his eyes. She had laughed at his joke! He could have kissed her right then, but he managed to restrain himself.
She placed a hand on his arm, and looked him in the eyes again (he loved it when she did that!). "Ron, I like you too. I'd love to be friends with you, and maybe sometime in the future we could go out, but I'd like to get to know you better first." She looked down for a split second. "I am sorry about not hearing your story out first." Ron nodded.
"No worries." He grinned and shoved the toast into his mouth.
Things couldn't have been going better – finally!
His first classes back were weird at first. His professors kept eyeing him strangely, but never said a word. Ron was a made a little uncomfortable by this, but he did his best to pay attention. Even Snape kept silent, keeping his regular stony scowl on his face, and ignoring Ron completely. However, it was the students that were the worst. It seemed there were whispers and giggly glances that followed him everywhere. At first it irritated him, but eventually Ron gave in to the pleasure of being popular. Girls waved at him shyly, and even guys nodded at him as they passed – almost as if they respected him. Not everyone felt this way. Draco tried his best to keep the rumor alive that Ron had done this aging to himself on purpose and not just a few believed him. Despite all these things, everything was pretty much back to normal – as normal as it possibly could be at least.
During supper Angela, the Gryffindor quidditch captain, came up to Ron. "So Weasley, I hear you're pretty smashing as goal keeper these days." Ron glanced up at her from his steak and kidney pie. She continued. "I did have someone already as goal keeper, but Potter wouldn't leave me alone about it. So, are you in?" Ron nodded, mouth full of delicious gooey pieness. (Author's Note: Just for the record I've never actually tasted steak and kidney pie. It sounds nasty if you ask me. If anyone HAS tried it let me know what you thought of it! Thanks!) "Well," said Angela, "I'll want to see you out there before the game then. Practice is tonight after supper. The game's in two days." She paused, a little uncertainly. "Are you sure you've improved since I saw you last?" She looked very doubtful.
Ron grinned and gave her a little wink. Her cheeks instantly turned crimson. Embarrassed, she spun and walked away.
At practice, Ron out-performed himself from the night before. Everyone on the team and the small crowd of people in the stands watching were slack-jawed and speechless. Harry grinned, proud of his friend. It was without a doubt that Ron was now one of the best, if not the best player on the team.
Afterwards, Angela mumbled something about the game on Friday and then made a beeline for the castle. She had major planning to do with a player like this!
The next couple nights passed without any significant event. One downside to his good looks, however was that Ron was becoming a bit full of himself. His excellent goal keeping skills didn't help his growing ego. Hermione had taken to rolling her eyes every time a girl stopped to talk to Ron, and even Harry was losing patience with him, and perhaps feeling a bit touchy that he had lost a lot of the attention.
Despite all this, Friday's game arrived with great anticipation. Angela had tried to keep Ron's skills quiet, but of course it had leaked out. The Slytherins didn't pass up the chance to cast dirty looks in Ron's direction every time they passed, try to trip him up, or cast hexes over their shoulders at him, all of which were blocked by a watchful Hermione.
"You've really got to watch out for yourself, Ron," Hermione said after blocking a particular nasty hex. "I can't be here all the time to protect you."
Ron just shrugged. "I can't help it if they're jealous." Hermione frowned and walked the rest of the way to Transfiguration in silence.
Friday, after supper there was the usual mad rush to the quidditch fields. Ron, donned in new quidditch robes (having outgrown his old ones), stretched alone in a corner. The team chatted cheerfully, in high spirits. After seeing Ron defend the goals in practice they felt they didn't have anything to worry about.
After a quick pep talk Angela stalked at the head of her team out onto the pitch. The crowd cheered loudly. Ron smiled, breathing deeply. It was a clear, perfect evening for a game. The sun had a few hours on it yet, which meant that Harry would have an easier time of finding the snitch. After a word from Madam Hooch about fair play, Ron mounted his broom along with his team and flew up into the air to his goal posts.
The Slytherin team took a few warm-up turns around the pitch. When Draco passed the Gryffindor goals he shouted, "Better watch yourself, old man!"
Ron laughed deeply. "It's gonna be a shut out game, Malfoy! But don't worry! You can always go crying home to daddy and get him to buy you a new broom; not that it'll help your playing any!" Malfoy scowled and flew away, not used to stinging rebuttals from Ron Weasley.
The game began with a whistle from Madam Hooch and the quaffle was launched into the air. Harry and Draco promptly disappeared in search of the snitch. There was some squabbling at the far end of the pitch and then the players came rushing toward Ron. Slytherin had possession of the ball with Gryffindor hot on their trail. The Slytherin chaser launched the ball at one of the far, left hoops, but Ron was on top of it. With a fancy little flip, he smashed the quaffle, sending it into Angela's hands. With a roar from the crowd she was immediately off to the other end.
Back and forth the game went, with no sign of the snitch. Gryffindor scored three times against Slytherin, and Ron blocked goal after goal with spectacular dives and turns, twists and flips. The crowd was going crazy at the show.
Hermione, Ginny, and Lydia were breathless from screaming. "What do you think of him now?" Ginny shouted above the crowd to Lydia.
Lydia didn't say a word, but her eyes shone, her face turned pink, and she had this little smile on her face. Hermione and Ginny laughed, seeing her reaction, and patted her on the back.
Just then Draco appeared from no where on the far right of the Gryffindor goals, the bludger hurtling in his direction. He clobbered it with a borrowed bludger stick directly at Ron who almost caught it on the side of the head. He managed to dodge it just in time. Ron's face turned red with anger. He lunged at Draco who was laughing his head off. Ron stopped just short of Draco, flipped his broomstick around and slammed Draco right off his mount. Draco managed to grab his broom handle at the last possible second and hung on for dear life. The crowd gasped and Hermione, Ginny, and Lydia leapt to their feet in shock. Madam Hooch blew her whistle, which was barely audible above the shouts from the stands. The whistle went unheard.
Distracted from his goal posts, the Slytherin team, who had possession, made a beeline for the opening. Angela screamed at Ron, getting his attention. Ron sped to block the pass, reached to catch the flying quaffle, and missed by a fraction of an inch. It sailed through the hoop – the first goal for Slytherin. The shut out was gone. Ron pounded his fist on his broomstick.
"You're gonna get it, Malfoy!" Ron shouted. Draco was still struggling to keep his grip until one of his teammates went and helped him out. Five seconds later Harry caught the snitch and the game was over. Ron was mad. He had wanted that shut out and he'd failed. He flew down to the ground angry at himself, and doubly angry at Malfoy. He knew he could pound him to a pulp, and if Draco had meandered across his path right then he may very well have. Fortunately, Madam Hooch came storming up to him and stopped him in his wrath.
"What was that, Weasley?" Her green eyes flared. "That was a blatant foul and some of the most despicable behavior I have ever seen! Gryffindor may have won today, and I'm very tempted to default the game to Slytherin for that display, but the score stands as it is. In spite of all that, you, Mr. Ronald Weasley are banned from the next game. Do you understand me?" Ron scowled. Banned? "I said, do you understand me?" Madam Hooch looked about ready to pound him to a pulp.
"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled angrily. He watched her leave, dark thoughts consuming his mind.
to be continued....
Alright, lovelies!! It's that time in the story! REVIEW!!! YAY! Thank you so much for your reviews so far! The exciting conclusion is just around the corner! (And PLEASE tell your friends and anyone you know to read and review my story! I'd love to hear from them too! Showers you with fish and chips Thank you! hands you some salt and vinegar)
XXOXX This line is a borrowed movie quote from "Bugsy Malone". (It's a great movie! You should watch it!)