Wish: Chapter One
"Fuck off, Joe," one voice grunted as it paced slowly down the brightly lit corridor. The grunts echoed off each of the brick walls and straight into Fred and George's ears.
"Alright, Ronald?" George asked, pulling at the crown of his brother's red hair and smiling. "What's the matter now then? Teacher set you so much homework you've decided to sulk about it? It's the only way you'll learn, little brother. You never see Fred and I complaining about school work. Ever."
"Leave me alone." Ron's eyes remained fixated upon his brother's, his pupils a direct reflection of George's. The twins had been taunting him with teasing and practical jokes as long as he could remember, and they never gave in. Any attempt to send them away usually met another joke as a consequence.
"Now there, Ronald, there's no need to be so rude. We've got news for you. Pretty good news too, if you want my opinion. Am I right, Fred?" George gestured to his right and turned his gaze to find his clone nodding in complete approval.
"George is right, Ron. It's bloody brilliant news, the best we've had in ages."
"We're Weasleys. No news is good news," Ron mumbled, his tone filled with both despair and anger.
George shook his head. "No, listen here. Bloody brilliant news this is. You know that competition Fred and I signed up for a few months ago? The one that we had to answer a question about British history for and the smart girl in your year told us the answer to? Well, we only went and bloody won it."
Fred and George clenched together their fists and punched the air in synchronisation. "Bloody brilliant," Fred whispered, repeating his brother's words. Ron's face lay contrasted, his deep frown and furrowed eyebrows exempt from the elation.
"Fucking brilliant for you two. How will I benefit from the prize? Oh, I know, I fucking won't." He rolled his eyes to emphasize his annoyance.
"Not true," Fred started, "we'll take you for a drive in it. We can drive around town together next week, maybe stop off for a joke birthday present for Ginny along the way."
"I already have a gift for her." Ron shrugged his shoulders whilst shaking his head. "Besides, I wouldn't want any of you to fucking die along the way."
A tall, copper-haired young man walked in their direction, Ron's back to him. He was apparently a good few years older than them, the lines above his eyebrows a hint of the deep concentration he spent most of his days in and the hours of studying he'd put in whilst a student at the school. He wore a navy polo-neck jumper and beige trousers met with black polished shoes on his feet. Pinned to his chest was a red badge stating his name and occupation within the school. He'd begun teaching advanced level history two years back, when he'd passed all of his exams with distinctions.
"You'll be in trouble at home if mother finds out about your potty mouth," he remarked, grabbing Ron by the shoulder and turning him around on his heels. "You know she doesn't like to hear you swear, Ronald, and neither do I. Besides, how do you expect to make a prefect next year with a vocabulary like that?"
Ron stared Percy up and down before pushing his hand off of his shoulder with a sweaty palm. "I don't fucking care what you think. And I don't want to be a fucking prefect.
Percy pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth to form a sound of disapproval. He rolled his eyes just as Ron had done a few minutes ago and pulled his brother forward by the strings of his hooded jacket. "That is no way to talk to your older brother, Ronald Weasley. Don't expect me to associate with you if you're going to treat me like that. Respect your elders, did you never take a religious education class?"
Ron gulped, blinking as quickly as he count to retain the water threatening to well in his eyes. He had taken a class in religion a few months back. He and Harry had decided it would be the easy option as far as extra curricular classes were concerned, and had spent the majority of the lessons passing notes around the class and talking between themselves. Since the accident, Ron had never attended another of the classes. He'd never bothered to provide an excuse as to his absence either, but none of the teachers seemed to have gathered up enough courage to ask him why he no longer studied the course. Nobody talked to the boy who's best friend had died in a tragic car crash.
"Alright then Percy, let him go. You're going to end up bloody strangling him the way you're holding those strings." Percy let go of Ron's jacket and watched him fall back against the lockers.
"I don't think that's any way for a teacher to behave, Mr Weasley," George joked. He pressed his index finger to Percy's name badge and tapped twice. Just like the prefect badge Percy had gained all those years ago, the name badge had received a similar celebration. Percy had shown everybody in the neighbourhood the day he was given it. Even the old lady who sat in the armchair every day of her existence on the edge of town had managed to hear the news.
"Shut it, George," Percy snapped, "or I'll tell mother about all of your behaviour. Now hurry along to class or you'll all be late."
The group departed quickly, each heading off in different directions. Ron shoved his backpack over his shoulder and continued down the corridor, head down and eyes on the ground.
He stepped foot into his biology class a few minutes before the bell rung. There were only a handful of other students in the room, much to Ron's delight. A petite blonde girl sat on the front row, her studded earrings and matching necklace framing her face. Her lemon-coloured cardigan complimented the pale floral patterns upon her summer dress, the ribbon in her hair an identical colour. A year ago she'd been Ron's biggest love interest. Behind her was a group of boys clustered around one desk, their eyes fixed intently upon one mobile phone in the middle of the table. Ron took his seat alone at the back of the class, setting his books down on the desk and throwing his backpack under his feet.
The room filled up quickly and within a few minutes the bell had chimed and a flurry of students had sat themselves down. By the time the remaining few found their way to their desks, very few empty chairs remained. The teacher hurried late-comers in and shut the door behind her. Around Ron, every chair stood occupied with the exception of that joined to his desk. Most students had managed to set our their stationary in front of them, accompanied by their brand new binders that were destined to become filled with equations barely any of them would remember until final exams came around.
The teacher clapped her hands together to silence the class. "Right," she began, "I know a lot of you didn't expect to be in this class, but we've decided you're all capable of achieving the top grades. Let me remind you all that this class is compulsory and for your own benefit. It might well be another class on top of your many other, but you've been hand-picked as the students with the most potential in your whole school year. If you choose to attend this class regularly, you'll be perfectly able to complete the higher level paper by the time June comes around and exams begin. Now, where shall we start?"
The first ten minutes of the lesson went by uninterrupted. Ron twiddled his thumbs and clicked the end of his pen as each second passed by. His boredom was uncomparable, the daunting prospect of failing to understand anything explained playing on his mind. He'd only been placed in the class because his parents had requested it. They'd insisted Ron had 'great potential' when speaking to his previous tutor. The expression on her face upon hearing this had been one of both confusion and disapproval, but her response did not contend with the expression on her face. She'd agreed to give Ron a chance on the gifted programme along with Harry before Christmas. Ron hadn't minded the prospect whilst Harry was in the picture, yet he was beginning to consider asking his parents to withdraw him from the class only a few minutes in.
As soon as the group of students had managed to settle themselves down and apparent mobile phones had been replaced in exchange of stationary and textbooks, the lesson had gotten off to a start. The teacher - who had introduced herself as Mrs. Rosenburg - was in the middle of beginning to explain the concept of diffusion when her class was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"I'm sorry I'm late," the faint voice explained, pushing the door open and walking in.
Mrs. Rosenburg lent the studious-looking girl a concerned look as she hurried into the room carrying a stack of textbooks and notebooks.
"I'm afraid you'll have no choice as to where you sit, Miss..." She lent over the list of names on her computer screen before finding the row highlighted in red, "Miss Granger. We have a lot to do and there are a lot of students throughout the year that would do anything to be in your position right now. There will be no more excuses for lateness or any other form of lack of punctuality or attendance. You're here to learn, not to draw attention to yourself."
The girl nodded and sat herself down next to Ron. He shuffled awkwardly closer to the wall and kicked his bag over with him. She looked straight ahead, smiling and blinking quickly whilst avoiding eye contact.
"By the end of the academic year," Mrs Rosenburg explained, "you'll each have taken two exams in biology and have completed an assignment task in groups of two."
Ron's heart stopped. He'd hated the idea of working in groups ever since having to and from walk to school alone every morning and evening.
In a moment of panic and dread, he managed to knock his textbook off of the desk in front of him and it landed with a thud as it hit the ground. Everyone turned around to face him, the smirks on their faces hitting him hard.
"Nice once, Weasley," Derek Roberts laughed. He was bald-headed and wore gold studs in both ears, apparently deeming him worthy of the role as most popular male in the fifth year. "If only your little friend was still here, he might be able to stand up for you."
Mrs Rosenburg struggled for silence, marching to Derek's desk and whispering a warning in his ear.
"At least he has a better attitude than you." The voice came from Ron's side. He turned around to see the petite brown haired girl beside him on her feet.
The teacher hurried over to the other side of the room where she sat, the glare emerging as she turned in her direction threatening and filled with aggression. "Now there Miss Granger, that'll be quite enough. I'll see you after class for a stern chat. I hope this was the very last time we'll be seeing that sort of behaviour from you." She raised her eyebrows and waited for Hermione to be seated.
Ron spent the rest of the lesson smiling in Hermione's direction, but to no result. Her eyes remained intently on the front of the room as she scribbled down each equation and fact our of Mrs Rosenburg's mouth.
When the lesson came to a close, Ron stood up and tucked in his chair, throwing his backpack over his shoulder and walking out of the door. He'd thought of whispering thank you in her ear, but realised he'd do nothing but make a fool of himself. As he turned his back on the classroom and prepared to walk to the lunch room, he found himself stopped in his tracks. Through the grimy, scratched window etched in the middle of the door he could see Hermione and Mrs Rosenburg at the front of the room. She was close to tears, her shoulders raised up high as she was readily undermined.
She'd stood up for him when she hadn't a clue who he was. Peering inside of the room one final time, Ron dropped his backpack against the wall and pressed his fingers to the door handle.