Potter47 Part One
Old Friends "A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step."
Confucius Chapter One
The Early Bird
"Luna, could we... Could we just...start over? Just pick up where we left off? Like the last five years...didn't happen?"
Luna smiled slightly. "You want to start over?"
Ron nodded. "Yeah."
"So, you want me to call you 'Ronald' again?" she asked, pushing a stray bit of dirty-blond hair behind an ear. Ron realised she was wearing the radishes.
"I kinda liked it when you called me Ronald," he admitted, rather sheepishly. "Only my Mum calls me that, and that's only when she's mad. I liked having someone call me it without the anger."
"Alright then, Ronald," she said. "We shall start over. As if the last five years never happened."
Never happened...
"Never...happened..."
Ron's eyes popped open. What had he just been dreaming of? Oh, yes. Her. The same dreams had been replaying themselves in his mind ever since he had returned home from Hogwarts. He had never even dreamt of Hermione this much, when he had fancied her.
Ron shook his head, sitting up in bed. What had changed? Well, he had changed, for sure. His romantic interest for Hermione seemed to have existed in a different universe. One where Luna didn't really exist.
It was the second week of July. The...fourteenth. Two weeks into the summer holidays. Six weeks left.
He got up out of bed, and looked around his room. Orange. Very, very orange. Just how he liked it. Not a speck of maroon in the room. Something about that colour just...made him feel uncomfortable. Almost like spiders, but not really a fear. What did Hermione call it? Arachno...phobia. That was it.
Hermione. The last time he had seen Hermione, she had nearly throttled him. It was entirely unexpected, too. One second, she was her normal, Hermione self, the next, she was...very Slytherin-ish.
What time is it? He looked around at the clock on his bedside table. Six? In the morning? What am I doing awake?
But, for some reason, he didn't even feel tired. He felt very awake, as if it was...later. He usually didn't wake up until at least nine or ten during the summer, unless there was de-gnoming, or you know, rescuing-Harry-from-the-Dursleys, to do.
Ron dressed, something he had never done at such an ungodly hour, and quietly walked out of his room. Of course, that was the end of the "quietly" part, as the moment he stepped onto the top stair...creak! He made his way down the stairs, as softly as he could. But, alas, there was only so many ways to prevent feet as big as his from making noise; he wasn't very skilled at any of them.
Miraculously, he didn't seem to have woken anyone up. He heard Fred and George snoring as he passed their room, and Ginny could sleep through anything.
But...what was that? He heard something. A loud noise from the kitchen. He walked toward it, and saw his mother, cursing the table leg, rubbing her foot. No, she was actually cursing the table leg. As in, Incendio!
"Mum!" he whisper-yelled. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, Ron." She hurriedly doused the flames. "I was just avenging my foot."
"What?" he asked. "What are you talking about?"
"Every day!" his mother said. "Every day, I bang my damn..." She glanced at him, as if wondering if he had heard. "I bang my darn foot on the table leg. This time, I decided to pay it back."
"But...it's a table."
"And this," she gestured to her foot, "hurts. It deserved what it got." She gestured to the singed wood.
"Mum, you should rest..." he said.
"Nonsense. I still have another. What are you doing up so early? Are you hungry? I can make eggs..."
"No thanks, Mum. You really should rest that, if it hurts so much."
She looked at him, incredulous. "Did you, Ronald Bilius Weasley just turn down food?"
"Sometimes people change," he said defensively.
She shook her head. "But sometimes, they don't have to. It's Luna, isn't it?"
"What?" he said, staring at his mother. "What are you talking about?"
"Every one of you: Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, and George. Every time they really fancied someone, they started turning down meals. Ginny, even. She was quickest, actually." She looked into space sentimentally for a moment. "After we took you to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, for your first year, she started turning down meals. You can imagine how much extra food we had then; everyone else out of the house, and Ginny not eating..."
"Mum..." he said uncomfortably.
"Oh, and they stopped sleeping well," she added, looking up at the clock. The hand labelled "Ron" had spun around to "Trying to hide something...failing miserably..." He had never seen that label before. It seemed to have appeared for the special occasion.
"So when did you start to fancy Luna?" she asked interestedly.
"Mum!" he said again. "Who said I fancied Luna?"
She chuckled. "You did. I was in your room last night, getting your dirty laundry, and you were mumbling something about "starting over." I heard Luna's name come up." She smiled at her youngest son. "I knew it was only a matter of time..."
The clock spun faster than seemed possible to "Embarrassed." She had been in his room?
"Mum!" he said yet again. "This isn't exactly a topic I want to discuss right now."
"Later, then?"
"Goodbye, Mum," he said, walking toward the front door.
"Where are you going?" she asked, having a pretty good idea.
"I need some air. I think I'll take a walk."
"Don't be too long," she said, as he went out the door.
She shook her head. It was always the same. I wonder if he knows where he's going...
Ron didn't know where he was going. But that didn't stop him from going there. He walked, and walked. He hadn't walked so much since Luna had taken him to her mother's secret room, by Dumbledore's office. It had taken him a while to get out of there. Luna clearly hadn't known that you can only open it from the inside with the password that was needed for the outside. Of course, he hadn't known it, so it had taken until Luna had doubled back, for no apparent reason, and opened it once again, for him to get out.
He walked down to Ottery St. Catchpole. He could see Stoatshead Hill, where they had met Cedric Diggory and his father, in the distance.
"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already..."
He didn't even remember that...well, he hadn't remembered. Now he did. Hermione had mentioned it at the Gryffindor table when Harry and Ginny had been missing at the end of term. Luna had been at the Quidditch World Cup, with her dad.
He kept walking. Through all the Muggle parts of the town. Luckily, he wore Muggle clothes during the summer, as did the rest of his siblings. Except Percy, now, of course, and likely Bill and Charlie, as well.
Percy still hadn't come round. He still thought that the Ministry was the right side to be on. Mum had tried sending a present for his birthday, but it was to the same result as the Christmas jumper. He sent it back.
He passed Muggle stores. Eckeltronics, and such. Ginny had been asking Dad something about eckeltronics the other day...what was that about? Something to do with tape. Must be the Muggle version of Spellotape. That's eckeltric?
He came into the residential area of the city. There were houses all around him. It was odd, how close together Muggles put houses. Some of them were hardly separated at all. He could see, in one yard, was a rather vicious-looking dog, leashed to a pole. It was barking at a peaceful looking cat, who was purposefully ignoring it from the opposite side of the fence, only three feet away.
Hang on...some of the houses looked familiar. Like that one; it was deep blue, with a large lion doorknocker visible. And that one, across from it, with the big...flapping...bird...
"Luna!" he said to himself. In reality, the bird was not part of the house, but atop a dirty-blond head in one of the top windows. He strode up the front path, and knocked on the front door. Of course, he had acted on impulse, and had no idea whatsoever to say to the dark haired, tall, pleasant looking man who opened the door.
"Yes?" he said, looking Ron in the eye. They were about the same height; Ron, and Luna's father. Ron seemed to have almost stopped growing; maybe only a foot or two left.
"Erm..." Ron said. "I'm..." He stopped, and began again. "Hi. My name's Ron. I'm a friend of Luna."
"Ron? Ron Weasley?" the man said, looking considerably happier than he had just a moment before. "It's been so long! Last time I saw you, you were this high!" He gestured to a height somewhere around his elbow, which wasn't all that short.
"Erm, well, hello Mr. Lovegood. Could I talk to Luna?"
"Of course!"
Mr. Lovegood walked into the house, and called up a stairway. "Luna! Ron Weasley is here to see you!"
"Ronald?" Ron could hear Luna's voice quietly, followed by a soft bump! "Ow!"
"She must of bumped her head again," said Mr. Lovegood fondly. "She's cleaning the attic. I would help, but she just loves cleaning." He lowered his voice. "And I'm allergic to attics. Have been since I was little."
Ron blinked. "Right." Allergic to attics? Maybe to dust, but who's allergic to actual attics?
"What are you doing here, Ronald?" Luna said, at the top of the stairs, rubbing her eagle-topped head.
"Just in the neighbourhood," he said, thinking it was the only possible explanation that made sense. Oh, I just woke up from a dream about you, to be interrogated by my mother about you, so I decided I'd turn up at your house, asking about you! Did I mention I may well fancy you?
"Well, that's logical." She didn't read my mind, right? She means the "in the neighbourhood," thing, right?
"Dad?" Luna asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Yes?" he said pleasantly.
She jerked her head to the right, making the eagle fall off.
"What, is the hat itching?" he asked worriedly. "Maybe you're inheriting the allergy...but then who will clean the attic?"
"No, Dad." She jerked her head again. What's wrong? thought Ron.
"Oh!" said Mr. Lovegood, seemingly understanding what Luna was trying to say. "You're right, I should turn on the wireless."
Luna put her face in her hands, shaking her head.
"Don't mind my Dad," she said quietly to Ron. "He's a bit odd. He has been since my Mum...you know."
"Yeah...I, eh, didn't even notice," said Ron awkwardly.
A tune slowly began to play in the living room of Luna's house.
"Ah..." said Mr. Lovegood, blissfully, his head tilted back, listening. "The Beatles. I've always had a thing for Muggle music. I've just never adjusted to those wizarding bands..."
Luna's father began to sing along with the music, "Oh yeah I'll, tell you somethin', I think you'll understand...when I, say that somethin', I wanna hold you're hand..."
"We'll be in the kitchen," said Luna, dragging Ron away from the almost amusing sight of Mr. Lovegood dancing with what looked like a Muggle broomstick. The man didn't pay them any mind.
"What are you doing up so early, Ronald?" asked Luna, hoisting herself up onto the kitchen counter. "It's not even seven o'clock."
"I woke up," said Ron simply.
"What'd you dream about?" she asked conversationally.
"I dreamt about--" Ron stopped short. "What?"
"What, what?" replied Luna confusedly.
"Why did you ask what I dreamt about?"
"Oh," she said, understanding, "it's just habit, I suppose...Dad and I always talk about our dreams. We have for as long as I can remember. Mum used to...never mind. But it was quite a surprise, when I started at Hogwarts, and no-one talked about dreams. Well, I suppose Professor Trelawney talked about dreams, but I've never really been any good at divination," she said, rather shiftily. "So, what did you dream about?" she asked curiously.
"Er...Quidditch." All-purpose excuse. "I dreamt about Quidditch."
"That's weird!" said Luna excitedly. "So did I! I dreamt about the Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor match at the end of last year. That's why I wore my hat today.I wish I was a bit better at Quidditch. I tried out a couple years back, but I didn't make it. Wizards should have horseback riding sports. I would be good at that..."
Luna was already in place, sitting side-saddle and adjusting her robes as though she did this every day.
Yeah, thought Ron. She had seemed rather skilled at riding thestrals.
"So," she said, legs swinging. "How has your summer been?" she asked.
"Okay, I guess," he said. "Harry should be able to come soon."
"How's Ginny been?" she asked curiously. "Is she alright, after everything that happened last year?"
"I reckon so," Ron said, scratching the back of his neck. "She's been asking my Dad about eckeltronics and stuff all summer, which is kind of odd. But other than that, she's been perfectly normal."
Luna looked at him quizzically, eyes narrowed. "Eckeltronics?" she asked. "What are eckeltronics?"
"Er, eckeltricity is something Muggles use since they don't have magic," he said, recalling his father's explanation. "Most eckeltronics use plugs, but some use batteries, which are little--"
"Oh!" said Luna. "You mean electricity! Of course I know what that is." She nodded her head to the living room. "That wireless uses batteries. Most of this stuff is electric."
She hopped off the counter and walked to a rectangle on the wall. "This," she said, "is called a light-switch. It's electric." She flipped a little flippy-thing in the middle of the rectangle. A bright light erupted above Ron's head, as if a giant wand had been lit. Ron eyed it suspiciously, and Luna smiled.
"Why's it so bright?" he said, squinting.
"It's called fluorescent. It's brighter than most light bulbs."
"Turn it off," said Ron, shielding his eyes. "It's too bright."
Luna flipped the flippy-thing once again. The light went out.
A figurative light bulb went on above Ron's head. "Hey, Luna," he said.
"Yes?"
"You said you don't like attics?"
She shook her head. "No, I just don't like cleaning. Attics are entirely satisfactory. You live in an attic," she stated.
He blinked. "I know I do." What was I saying? Oh, yeah. Attics...
"Well," he said. "I could help you. Clean the attic, I mean. If you really don't like it. I've had to clean ours a thousand times, because of our ghoul. He likes to mess things up, and I'm right next-door. I'm used to cleaning attics."
"Really?" she asked. "You want to help?"
"Yeah," he said. "That's what I said."
She looked at him shrewdly. "One condition."
"What?"
"Wait here."
Luna turned round and dashed off into the living room, and up the stairs. Why didn't she use these stairs? There was a set of stairs right off of the kitchen, that would have been perfectly okay for going upstairs. However, she didn't even seem to notice them.
She returned a minute or two later, roaring lion in hand. "Wear this," she said. She had put the eagle back on her head already.
"Er..." Why did I volunteer again? Oh, yeah, I fancy her and all that rubbish. Why?
"Sure," he said awkwardly.
"You're an angel," she said, smiling, clearly happy he was going to help. Of course, he had no idea what he was in for. Cleaning the attic was just the beginning.
From Privet Drive "The mind is never satisfied with the objects immediately before it,
but is always breaking away from the present moment,
and losing itself in schemes of future felicity..."
Samuel JohnsonComing Soon