A/N: I am so, so sorry for the wait! Thanks again to all the people who've reviewed and favorited this story!

Lesson Four: Your Family May Unofficially Adopt Him

You might recall from my award-winning (well, not yet, anyway) introduction that Harry Potter is an Honorary Weasley. Of course, if you're like me, you skipped over that bit and this is all new information to you... you must be so excited.

... or not.

Well, regardless of whether you're a lazy arse or not, I've no doubt that a fair number of you ignorant fools (no offense) just read that and thought to yourselves, 'Ooh, it would so brill if my best mate lived at my house!'

Well you're wrong: it's not. — Especially when you're already forced to live with him ALL YEAR.

Come off it, Ron, it's loads worse for me— just 'cos you've developed an immunity to your socks doesn't mean the rest of us have.

Remind me to put wartcap powder in your trainers sometime, Harry.

...

What you've just read was an excellent demonstration, if I do say so myself, of the correct following of the number one rule of surrogate family-ing your hero best mate, no matter how unbelievably irritating he is: diplomacy at all times (I wasn't jok— shut it, will you?)

... Well, most times, anyway.

The second (though equally important) cardinal rule of the [insert type of rule I said above and really don't feel like repeating] is, of course, mark out a clearly defined schedule for who gets the Loo first.

That's right: 'Loo' with a capital 'L' — in contrast to, it goes without saying (though I will take the liberty to do so anyway), 'loo' with a lowercase 'l', which is in fact... erm, the same thing. So, yeah...

I've found that a really top-notch strategy for determining this vitally important order is 'tallest goes first'. This one has worked out smashingly for me; I dunno if you've seen Harry outside of pictures, but let me tell you—

Passing over my height, how d'you work that one out?

Well, obviously it's because tall people... must... have a tendency... have to... are further from the ground. Yeah, that's the one.

I like 'saviors of the world have priority', personally.

You would. Sorry, mate, but my house, my rules.

You mean: your house, your mum's rules.

Hopefully (unless you're extraordinarily dim) you're beginning to work out exactly why year-round room-mating isn't as hunky-dory as you — don't deny it — first thought; he (your mate, that is... just putting that in there in case your thought I was going on about your parakeet or something) can be right insufferable at times. Merlin forbid he and Ginny get married, then I'd be legally stuck with him.

You make it sound like that's a bad thing.

It is. Have you ever lived with yourself?

Yes; I do believe I have done from time to time, actually.

Well I hate to burst your bubble, mate, but you seriously overestimate your charm and fun-ness.

Fun-ness isn't a word.

... My point exactly.

Sorry, I've gone off topic a bit (*glares at sorry excuse for a moral supporter*). Moving right along, now...

As you've found yourself, poor thing, saddled with a hero for a best friend, then you most likely are already aware that he has a rotten home life.

If you didn't already know that, then one, what kind of friend are you? And two, he's got one — I don't know why that is, it just seems to work out that way.

Hence, being the ace mate you are, you'll (or already have, if you're just that marvelous of a person) offer him your humble abode as his home-away-from-his-other-rubbish-home. I started early: Harry began coming round holidays before second year.

If this indeed does happen to you (I've no way of knowing, I never was great shakes at Divination), then I should warn you about some things.

[Soon (e.g. once you've finished this book; you're nowhere near ready yet), you'll be able to pick these out on your own; after a while they become more obvious than Kreacher at a fancy dress party.]

(1) If he's anything like Harry, then he's got the 'I had a really wretched childhood, but managed to remain good-hearted, helpful, and modest, not to mention adorable' disposition down to an art-form, and consequently, your parents might decide to unofficially make him their non-ginger son

(2) Your brothers (note: if you haven't got any, you lucky bastard, simply substitute 'brothers' with the appropriate plural noun, e.g. 'sisters', 'cats', 'avocados', etc.) might come to the conclusion that he's the pesky little git they've always wanted (Don't be so hard on yourself, mate; they had you years before I was added to the mix— Oi, you're really asking for it today, aren't you?)

(3) Likewise, your sister... well, let's not go there (if you really want to know, see Lesson Two... I just cannot bear to repeat myself)

(4) Due to his aforementioned home life and charming-wraith personality, he'll be exempt from chores... 'course, considering he's the noble hero-type, he'll probably do them anyway, but it's the principle of the thing that's so bloody unreasonable

(5) Just when you were lucky enough to land your own room, you suddenly have to share it. In turn, this means he'll have access to first-rate blackmail (mind, this is both a plus and a minus, as it works both ways)

(6) Because he's so Good and Noble and Hero-rific, whenever there's a spot of trouble (for example... hypothetically of course... you decided to play a game of Quidditch using a watermelon as a Quaffle... not that we've ever done that or anything... and said watermelon lands on your brother's head, ahem), you're going to get the weight of the blame. Of course, once again, he'll fess up as well (due to the side-effects of the characteristic listed above), but it's seriously unfair anyway.

(7) Prepare yourself for a lot of adolescent angst (I'll elaborate on this later)

To tell the truth, it's not that bad (the living-with-your-family, not the angst thing — that's bleeding unbearable, trust me). Sometimes, it's quite fun. I mean, when Harry's here, we play Quidditch more or less continuously (and I get to use his top-of-the-line broom - another perk of the field).

Also, he doesn't take the mickey as much as my siblings (mind-blowing, I know). However, I don't mean to say that he never pokes fun - that would be lying, something I don't like to do... mostly because I'm dead awful at it.

(Oh yeah, and I believe I mentioned above that he's adorable and your mum will fuss over him like there's no tomorrow, instead of me — I mean, you for once)

Here is a textbook example (blimey, bold makes it looks rather important, doesn't it...) of what I like to call, 'Torturing Ron [or, you know the drill, insert your name there]':

A few days ago...

Hermione's taking way too long in the bathroom. I rap loudly on the door, rocking back and forth on my heels.

"C'mon, I'm sure you look gorgeous – " I plead, now performing an impressive jig on my toes.

No response. Meh.

I suddenly recall The Book [as it shall henceforth be called, as various family members of mine will undoubtedly read this], and its chapter on the art of 'flirting'. I clear my throat.

"Oi, Hermione—" Smooth one, Romeo; how bleeding romantic of you.

I prepare for Attempt #2.

"Hey, erm, you've been in there ages... I'm sure if you look any better than you've already made yourself, it'll be too distracting." I grin to myself, I managed to say something (semi) smooth without insulting her grandmother or something equally dimwitted.

The door swings open (it's about time!), and the I feel the grin slide off my face and land somewhere near my maroon socks.

"I'll try not to, but I understand your concern," says Harry, smirking.

...Why do I even try?

I grunt, "Budge over," and push past him into the small bathroom, locking the door behind me. I hear his laughter as he traipses down the stairs.

"Don't worry, mate, I won't tell Hermione about your secret passion!"

Tosser.

Yeah, so... that charm didn't exactly *cough* work out as anticipated... I didn't expect my thoughts to be included too.

Then again, is there ever a day that I don't make a fool of myself?

*cue clichéd chorus of crickets*

That's what I thought.

Just to review, the (I haven't actually counted them up yet, so just say your favorite bloody number and move along) commandments of living with your best mate are:

(1) Try not to kill each other — especially 'cos, chances are, the fate of the world will be a lot more sunshine-y and... not evil if he's kept alive

(2) Ron gets the loo first (no exceptions)

(3) Don't let it bother you too much that everyone in your family seems to prefer him to you

(4) Ron also gets cake first (Since when? Since forever, Harry, Where have you been?)

(5) Keep him away from your sister at all costs— Hey! Alright, alright, please remove your wand from my temple! I wish you two a very happy and celibate relationship.

You did NOT just say that.

No, Ginny, I didn't. I wrote it.

Ha, feel the wrath of my almighty logic ... That doesn't look nearly as cool in print, does it?

Just a question, why in the name of Merlin do you keep bolding your name?

You're just jealous because I've harnessed the power of BOLD.

Not really, no. I was just asking because it looks ridiculous.

Your face is ridiculous. Heh.

I'm going to pretend you never told a 'your face' joke...

Suit yourself.

...

RON RON RON RON RON!

I might have to do that again, I haven't got a clue why I didn't discover BOLD sooner.

Get over it, Ron, I've already been doing it for the past several chapters.

Really? ...Figures. Dammit, Hermione!

I cannot imagine how you didn't notice.

You were yelling at me (in CAPITALS, thank you very much); hence, I was ignoring you.

... NOT THAT I USUALLY DO THAT (... phew, I think she bought it... OW! Not the hair, woman! — slash that, she definitely didn't)

Ah, well.

RON RON RON RON RONNNNN!

That was very inspirational, wasn't it? I thought so.

Well, then, unless you're unbelievably incompetent or you simply spaced out and are now quite surprised to find yourself at the end of the Lesson, I hope you've allowed some interesting and informative stuff to sink into your brains... hopefully from this book.

Unfortunately, having your best hero-type person — thanks, mate, it's truly an honor to be your 'best person' — ahem, stay/live at your house is one of those things you learn how to deal with 'through experience' (I hate when that happens, I'm really sorry), as they haven't got any 'best mate living at your house' simulators out yet.

Ron Weasley, Master of All Things Bold (oh Merlin, you're never going to shut up about that, are you?), signing out... erm, well, you know, until after Quidditch. Yeah. Bye.

A/N: Eh, not so sure about this chapter, either. I'm truly sorry for the two week (*cringes*) delay; I've honestly barely had time to sleep let alone write. So, thanks for reading!

Ooh! What's that shiny green button? You should press it and find out ;)

I mean that entirely seriously. I'm not really pleased with this chapter (I've been pressed for time, as I said before, and really wanted to get it out to you guys) and I plan to make major edits to it. However, before I do so, it would be UNBELIEVABLY helpful if you could give me some constructive criticism and suggestions so I can make really good improvements.

- Thanks so much for sticking with me, Zooey :)