1. So. We meet again...

2. Thanks a lot to reallybeth, my reliable beta. Without her, the grammar of this would be way off.

3. As always, any error here is mine and not from my reviewer. If you spot anything or have a doubt about the grammar used or plot just PM me, I'm always swift to answer. Open to concrit and whatever.

4. Again bit of a long one. Around 8k or so, better go to the restroom now if you have to. I hope it doesn't feel like it's dragging at any point, tried to keep it interesting.

5. I have a tumblr (jonriptide handle),

6. Enjoy. Thanks for the reviews. I don't think I have any Guest reviewers to answer, and I believe I have answered all the users with accounts in the reviews already.

As he'd done every day since the visit to Privet Drive, Ron woke up early. Creeping to the window, he pushed it up so he could see the sun washing over the green fields. He stared outside for quite a while, making sure that no one stared back.

"Are you sure she's not upset?" Harry asked.

"Who?"

"Your sister."

Ron gave a last glimpse out of the window, then walked back to his chest of drawers. "Did she look upset to you?"

"I didn't think so. She looked quite chuffed to be honest."

Shocking.

The day before, Ginny had turned eleven. Their mother had prepared a mouth-watering dinner and a moist chocolate cake for the occasion. There had been gifts and a bright atmosphere all throughout the day. Not to mention that Ginny was now officially Hogwarts age, and that her first shopping trip was just around the corner.

No. Ginny was definitely not upset.

Ron shoved his arms into a baggy old shirt. His ginger hair pushed out from the head hole soon after. "Then what's the fuss about? You didn't even know it was her birthday. She wasn't expecting a present from you."

Not like she wouldn't have fawned all over it if she got one though.

A brief sight escaped Harry. "I guess so, but— Are you sure? Maybe I should have given her something. She gave me a chocolate frog for mine, remember?"

Ron dismissed it with a shrug.

The Harry from his timeline hadn't given any presents to Ginny while at Hogwarts — not that Ron could remember. Harry hadn't even noticed her until the last year or so, and then the ruddy war had complicated things. Besides, if Ron's memory wasn't playing tricks on him, Harry had once asked if he should give her a present for her birthday and Ron had discouraged him. His younger self had insisted that Ginny was only his little sister, and not Harry's friend or anything.

Lucky that Ginny never found out about that.

It didn't take long for Ron and Harry to get fully dressed. They chatted and made plans for the day along the way. Not once was Dobby mentioned though.

Ron sighed, sparing a few glances around the corners of his cramped bedroom. He found nothing unexpected, only the wild orange of his bedsheets and numerous belongings.

Not even a week had passed since Dobby had appeared to Harry. At first, Harry had been inquisitive about Dobby's gloomy warning and house-elves in general, but Ron and the twins had convinced him that it was all gibberish. It was better for the boy to believe that Malfoy sent Dobby as some sort of prank. If by any chance Dobby was revealed ahead of time, it could only bugger things over for Ron's plans. It would be dangerous for the elf too.

That didn't mean that Ron was comfortable not knowing where Dobby was, or ignoring what the blazes he was planning. That blimin' elf was too dogged on protecting Harry for his own good.

He can't get Harry in trouble with the Ministry, at least. Not like last time.

The Burrow was a magical household, and within its boundaries, the Trace wasn't tracked. There was no way Harry could breach the Restriction for Underage Magic while he was inside those walls — which only made Dobby's next move a complete mystery. Whatever he planned to do to keep Harry out of Hogwarts though, Ron knew it would be something capable of driving him nuts.

Not like Dobby was the only one he needed to watch out for.

Ron glanced back at the window, resisting the urge to peek outside again. He was just being paranoid. It was unlikely that the Burrow would be attacked any time soon. Even so, there was a swarm of uncertainties about the upcoming term that Ron had trouble brushing off.

This was going to be the second time that Ron went through second year. An experience that he knew would be completely different. It would even be different than last year, when most of his thoughts had been devoted to returning to his own time. That was no longer the case. Nothing stopped Ron from changing time now. However, things weren't going to be easier because of it. How could they be when that bloody American was on the loose and that blasted diary was out there?

The future was a big fucking puzzle, and Ron didn't know if he would be able to solve it. If there was one thing he was sure of though, it was that this mess wouldn't end with Ginny lying unconscious in the Chamber of Secrets. Not in a million fucking years. If there was one future he had to change for the better this year, it was hers.

So, when Ron finally headed for the door, he stopped himself before turning the knob. "Look, mate… If you really want to, you can pick something for Ginny at Diagon Alley. We'll be there next week."

Harry stood back, "Oh, right. Umm, what does she like?"

"Quidditch," Ron answered at once.

Despite being mildly surprised, a wide smile came to Harry. "Brilliant"

"Nothing too expensive, or too flashy," Ron warned, to which Harry agreed promptly. In Ron's opinion, it wasn't that Harry was that eager to give something to Ginny, but at least now the boy didn't have to trouble himself with making a decision on the matter.

If only my decisions were as simple.

Ron had made a wrong one already, when he had failed to tell Dumbledore about the American's associates. A mistake that could cost him dearly. It burnt his bloody guts to admit it, but that wanker Saul Croaker had been right about that at least.

As Harry followed Ron down the creaking stairs, their conversation shifted to their upcoming shopping trip. They were still musing about it when they entered the kitchen. The twins were already seated in front of the table.

"The Hogwarts' letters arrived this morning," said Ron's mother, handing two identical envelopes of yellowish parchment to him and Harry.

While the twins were already reading through their own letters, Ron didn't bother opening his. It would have no surprises for him, only an obnoxious list of pricey textbooks — all written by none other than Gilderoy Lockhart.

Ron almost snorted. He hadn't given as much thought to Lockhart as he'd given to the American or the chamber business. Even so, that fraud of a professor could be a problem if Ron didn't watch out. Lockhart could, after all, cast fairly dangerous memory charms.

"Did Errol arrive?" Ron asked eagerly.

It was of course a stupid question. He could see Errol perched on the sofa from where he was. The owl was still heaving from his long trip.

"It's from that girl again," she said, giving her son both the letter from Hermione and a suspicious look. A few steps away, Fred smirked and nudged at George with his elbow. "I'll keep an eye on you. Your brothers say—"

"They're just teasing," Ron groaned, not meeting her eyes. Even knowing he was in his mid-twenties, he couldn't help but feel embarrassed by the exchange.

"So you say, young man, but I've already suffered through my fair share of Bill's admirers. I would rather you not follow his steps in that regard, especially at such a tender age," she admonished.

"Mum!"

The twins were still smirking when the steps of the staircase creaked again and someone else walked into the kitchen. "Who are we talking about?" Ginny asked.

"Ronnie's girlfriend," George replied at once.

"Oh, Henrietta?"

"Hermione!" Ron shouted, exasperated, only to quickly add. "And she's not my girlfriend!"

There was an amused grin on his sister's face, and when Harry smiled at her, Ginny beamed as if her birthday had come for a second day in a row. Although, she still blushed and lowered her eyes a second later.

Great. Now Ginny's taking the mickey on me too. Why not?

One undeniable change from last time was the teasing. It hadn't been anywhere near this bad at this point in second year. Ron had no idea how it could change things if Hermione heard them, but at this point it wasn't something that made him lose sleep. Bigger things had changed already.

Ron's mother rubbed her forehead. "Just give Errol some time to recover. That poor owl is drained," she told Ron in defeat. As if on cue, Errol let himself collapse on the sofa.

That dramatic ball of feathers… Pig wouldn't have been half as pouty.

A wistful expression appeared on Ron's face at the memory of his future owl. As much as he'd complained about him in the past — or the future — the fact was that he did miss that skittish little owl. Could Pig be at a pet shop out there already? Considering how young he'd been when Ron first got him, it was more likely that Pig wasn't even born yet.

Percy walked down next, all dressed and with his prefect badge pinned to his sweater vest. Ron wasn't as riled up with his brother as he'd been when they had that big argument a few days back, but he still frowned when he saw him arrive. There were a few things Percy still needed to understand, and the prat reminded him too much of Saul Croaker's haughty manners.

If he brings up Hermione too, I swear I'll mention Penelope Clearwater. Let's see how he likes that.

The name Penelope reminded Ron of his fight at the Ministry, where an Auror named Penelope Padgett had all but saved his sorry arse. He had thought of her several times since the day he'd arrived in the past, but had yet to see her at Hogwarts. Ron wondered if this was the year she started in school. It was hard to remember Penelope Padgett from back when he'd first attended Hogwarts, but he hadn't always been the most observant of students, so there was that. He would recognise her now for sure.

Unfortunately, Penelope Padgett wasn't the only name that came to Ron from that night. There had been other names as well — like Garvan Ferrara or Aster Prince — names he'd been too stupid to share with Dumbledore.

The thought was brushed away when Percy took a seat at the table.

"So, what does it say?" Harry asked Ron, once the boy finished going through his school letter.

Ron smiled, rushing to unfold the parchment filled with Hermione's handwriting.

"`Dear Ron, and Harry,

"`I'm glad to hear that everything is all right and that Harry is at your house now, Ron. I was worried that something bad might've happened to him, what with the unanswered letters and all. You'll have to tell me all about it soon, though please consider using a different owl, I don't think this one can survive another trip.

"I myself am doing fine. As I keep telling you, there hasn't been anything strange happening here. I think that man may have left'" read Ron with a flat voice, knowing that his mother was listening and that she usually tensed when reminded of the American. "Anyway, I've been revising last year's schoolwork. I can't forget about what we've already learned now that a new term is coming,'" he continued, his smile returning. "I'm excited about getting our new books from Diagon Alley. Dad said Wednesday works great for us too. Can't wait to see you there!

"Let me know a time and place that's best to meet. Love from Hermione.'"

Harry smiled, obviously looking forward to Diagon Alley as well.

"Love from Hermione," George repeated, faking a mushy tone.

Ron threw a pea at him, which George skillfully dodged. The twins burst into laughter regardless, so Ron decided to ignore them. Hermione's letter had put him in too much of a good mood to care. In her previous letter, the girl had suggested going to Diagon Alley on Tuesday, and Ron was relieved to read that she could be there on Wednesday instead.

As it happened, Ron wasn't free from juggling events in this new timeline. He'd made the conscious choice of altering time last term, but he still depended on this or that rubbish taking place. The most important case in his near future was Riddle's diary. It was a nightmarish object, but Ron had to lay his hands on it if he was to stop a lot of bad things from happening. To his blasted luck, he needed Lucius Malfoy for that, and also a chance meeting to repeat itself.

To be honest, Ron didn't have much hope for that first part of his plan. He did find out that Lockhart was signing books at Diagon Alley next Wednesday — hence his insistence to Hermione — and he'd also made sure his mother was well aware of that event. However, there was no guarantee that the Malfoys would show up the exact same day with the diary. It was the best he had though. He couldn't very well knock on their door and start looking for the diary himself, much less with the Underage Restriction pestering him. Ron would have to settle with Diagon Alley for now. If he didn't manage to get the diary then, he would have to hurry and find it once at Hogwarts.

You'll just wing it, a voice told him.

Ron huffed, pushing that effing voice away.

Breakfast didn't take long. It was a meal like any other, with the sole difference that Ginny appeared a tad less shy than the previous days. Ron's sister wasn't anywhere near being her old outgoing self — or even as open as she'd been before Harry had arrived — but at least she wasn't acting like a scared little girl anymore. Just like a regular little girl. She even exchanged a couple of words with Harry when he asked her to pass him the butter.

Whatever the case, Ron stormed upstairs as soon as he was done to write a response to Hermione's letter. Thankfully, Harry offered for him to use Hedwig, as a new delivery could've been the end of ol' Errol. On the other hand, Ron didn't notice he'd signed the letter with "Love, Ron" until it was long gone. Something he didn't remember doing while at Hogwarts.

Hopefully Hermione won't think anything of it. She signs her letters the same way after all.

Ron didn't pay it much mind. He watched Hedwig's shape from his window, growing smaller and smaller until she was lost in the horizon. Then his eyes lowered to the greenery around the Burrow.

As if on cue, the twins knocked on his door.

o0o0o

Weatherwise, It was a splendid day for Quidditch. Like most summer afternoons, it was warm outside, though not scorching hot. Gusts of air rustled the leaves in the trees, while also sweeping around the white cottony clouds in the sky. The passing shade provided such a refreshing setting that it was almost as if the orchard was screaming to be played at.

Not like the orchard had seen much action since they came home from Hogwarts. With the American somewhere out there, they weren't supposed to get too close to the limits of the Burrow's enchantments. Their mother considered it a huge risk and — as much as he loved Quidditch — so did Ron.

That hadn't wrecked Fred's resolve. All summer, Ron's brother had begged and begged their mother for a chance to brush the dust off of their brooms. At first, there wasn't much success, but after the trip to the pond proved to be almost uneventful, she reluctantly gave them permission — followed by a thousand warnings to stay within the enchantments of course.

Ron thought it was a dead awful idea. One little slip from a broom was all it would take. Just one little slip out of the Burrow's boundaries, and everything would be a bloody mess.

As a last fraught attempt, Ron vouched for playing something else. However, the more he argued, the more his arguments against Quidditch started sounding like madness. So he ended up accepting defeat and following the twins outside.

If things come to that, I guess I could take my chances with that prick.

As boneheaded as it sounded, there was a part of Ron that wished his rematch with the American would happen sooner rather than later. Perhaps if it did, and if by some twist of fate Ron came out on top, things would be back on track. He would at least be able to focus solely on Voldemort, or on freeing Sirius. As many bleeding challenges as those tasks could bring, at least Ron knew what to expect from them.

I can't really fight the American, Ron told himself. Not yet at least. Not in the orchard where I would be gambling with the life of Harry and the twins…

"If I didn't know any better, I would say you're afraid of Quidditch," George said, handing Ron a broom from the shed.

Ron took the broom from his hand brusquely.

"Ronnie doesn't want to get crushed by his far-more-talented brothers. That's what this is all about," Fred suggested with a teasing grin.

"You're bonkers. Harry and I can take you," Ron huffed. From the corner of his eye, he glanced at the orchard, pondering how far they could safely fly.

Fred chuckled. "Doubtful. Harrykins can handle himself, but he's made the unwise move of offering everyone a turn with that magnificent broom of his. No way you come out on top."

Maybe I can watch out for danger and still teach Fred a thing or two while I'm at it…

Before he closed the shed, Ron spotted an old lone broom in a corner. He stopped, turning to Harry and the twins. "Wait. We should get Ginny."

"Ginny? What for?" asked George, raising an eyebrow.

"She likes Quidditch. She might be good at it."

"Does she even know how to fly?"

Ron shrugged, not meeting their eyes.

The twins exchanged a strange look. "Tell you what," Fred began, leaning on the handle of his broom. "Go and ask her. If she's up for it, you can have her. Three on two, we don't mind. But… One condition…"

"What?"

"We get the first turn on the Nimbus 2000."

Ron didn't even turn to Harry before answering with a devilish grin. "You're on."

As it turned out, it took some convincing to get Ginny to join. Nothing major though, as once Ron mentioned Harry being curious about seeing her fly, Ginny took a long breath and dragged her feet to the orchard.

If the Ginny from my time saw me teasing her younger self, she would smack the grin right off my face… Not like that made it any less amusing.

Ron guided his young sister outside. By then, Harry and the twins were doing practice laps around the paddock. It wasn't a grand pitch at all. The whole thing was half as long as the pitch at Hogwarts, and an irregular shape at that. There were no Quidditch rings, or even white lines delimiting the playing field. However, it was more than enough for a casual game.

Ron couldn't help but smile. In all honesty, and as much as he would rather avoid the risk, he just couldn't be mad at Quidditch.

He picked a plum from the tallest tree in the orchard as he flew to meet the others. Ginny was close behind. Between the twins' surprised remarks at her confident manoeuvring and Harry's encouraging smile, Ginny was soon blushing, though looking quite pleased as she did so.

Fred circled around the field on Harry's broom, flirting too close to the edge of the enchantments for Ron's taste.

"Let's stay a few yards closer to this side. You know what Mum said."

Fred rolled his eyes. He didn't acknowledge Ron's suggestion, but he did fly closer to the orchard nonetheless. A moment after Ron discarded his plum, Fred dashed to the centre of the paddock and started the game without further ado. Harry and Ginny couldn't stop him. They were caught by a surprise almost as big as the one Fred got when he fired their old patched ball and Ron caught it without a sweat.

"Is that the best you can do?" Ron taunted.

"Oy! It's too early to brag, if you ask me."

Fred didn't do much better in his next attempts either. As comfortable as he sped across the paddock, he struggled getting any shot past Ron. On top of that, once Ginny and Harry got accustomed to each other's moves, it was the end of the twins' offensive.

Truth be told, Ron got lucky with a few of the saves. His hands were shorter and he wasn't as strong as he'd been in his older body, but by Merlin did he remember the gist of it. He knew where to position himself, and his reflexes were as good as ever. As it happened, Ron soon forgot all that troubled him. Playing Quidditch again was so exhilarating that he even stopped reminding people to stay within the Burrow's boundaries.

The Nimbus 2000 changed hands, but the twins didn't do much better. George didn't intercept a single one of Harry's or Ginny's passes, and the only shots that reached Ron came from plays that started all the way back on the twins' side of the field. If they ever had a small chance, it evaporated once it was Ginny's turn to fly on Harry's broom. The girl's cheeks flushed when she first grabbed the broom, but once in the air, George couldn't do much but trail behind her.

"Damn! Have you two been practising behind our backs?" Fred asked when they gathered for a break.

Ron shared a wide smile with Ginny. The two siblings appeared quite chuffed with themselves. "Maybe it's you who's getting worse," Ron told Fred.

"Rubbish! We're in shape. I really thought we had this, even with the disadvantage."

Looking down, George shook his head. "It pains me to admit it, Ronnie, but you saved a few good ones back there. I would tell you to try out for the team if Wood wasn't such a tough one to crack."

"He should try out anyway, if only to scare Wood," Fred argued. "It would be worth it just to see his face."

Harry agreed, though Ron didn't promise them anything. He had more important things to sort out at Hogwarts than Quidditch, as sacrilegious as that sounded. Besides, wasn't trying out for the team like cheating? He would be taking the spot of some other kid. And, no matter if Ron remembered him as the strong Puddlemere Keeper, Oliver Wood counted as a kid too.

To be fair, I may not have played Quidditch at Hogwarts yet, but I've done my good share of cheating, what with my first-year schoolwork prowess and all that.

Ron couldn't suppress a smile as he remembered the pouty look on Hermione's face last year, when he had converted that match into a needle in his first class.

"And you…" George chipped in, causing Ginny to gasp. "Since when do you know how to use a broom?"

Although Ginny's cheeks showed a healthy flush, she still stuck her tongue out at George defiantly. "It's none of your business."

The twins shook their heads in disapproval.

"You know what? We have to go back to teams of two," Fred admitted begrudgingly, "It's Harry's turn with the Nimbus. That'll be the final nail for us if we don't shake things up."

The team shuffling brought a few surprises. The twins finally snatched a win when Harry sat out for instance. Meanwhile, Harry and Ginny suffered the worst defeat of the day when it was Ron's turn on the bench — not that Earth-shattering considering neither of them knew squat about playing Keeper.

Ron waited eagerly on the side. When he returned, he lost himself so completely in the game that a clumsy mechanical roar caught him completely off guard an hour later. His surprise only grew when he saw the old Ford Anglia riding through the orchard and into the paddock with its turquoise shell. In the driver's seat was Fred, who was supposed to be the one out of the current game, but no one had seen him leave to fetch the old car.

"What the bloody hell is this?" Ron shouted angrily as the car stopped and everyone flew down next to it.

"This, my dear brother, is a car. Muggles use it to move around," Fred answered with a grin as he stepped out.

"I know what the hell it is, but why is it here? Dad would flip out if he knew we took it."

Maybe not quite… But still, this was a stupid idea regardless…

Fred looked unfazed, "Relax, Percy the second," he said in an almost accusing tone. "We both know that I can drive this old junk. And besides, it was dead boring just watching you play. At one point I just told myself: 'You know what, Fred? Let's show our guest — that would be Harrykins here — a smashing show. Bet he doesn't see many flying cars in Surrey.'"

"It can fly?" Harry asked, baffled.

"Of course it can! Not as fast as your broom, mind you. But it's certainly more roomy," answered Fred, slapping the roof of the car. It didn't look like the car could handle the rough bump, but Ron knew it could actually endure much more than that. Much, much more.

This is a terrible idea. The American is still out there fucks sake. We don't even need the bloody car to save Harry from the Dursleys this time, it would only be to fool around… It was one of the most stupid things they could do. Right up there with using a broken wand or asking Hagrid to cater for them.

Ron made his disagreement obvious. "So it can fly, big deal, so does a dragon and you don't see me wobbling to get onto one, do you?"

"What's got your knickers in a twist today?" asked Fred. "This car doesn't have wings, or spit fire, or any other of that rubbish, if that's your fear. In case you've forgotten, riding it is rather dull."

"Then why did you bring it out, if it's so ruddy dull?"

Fred frowned.

After rolling his eyes, George climbed into the passenger seat. Despite looking torn, Harry already had the door to the backseat open, obviously waiting for Ron to approve so he could hop in.

Ron sighed, rubbing his forehead. "There's a reason why Dad set up the enchantments."

The reminder of the American weakened Fred's frown. He hadn't said much about it, but Ron remembered a hint of worry behind their jokes back when they first heard the story. "We're not stupid, Ronnie. I'll just drive a few laps around the Burrow, well within the limits. Harry will get to see what it's like, and Mum won't even know."

Ron turned back towards the house. Their mother had given a few peeks outside throughout the afternoon, especially when Ginny first came out. However, she must've decided that they were safe because she hadn't appeared since she started making dinner.

"Dunno… I guess there's no harm if we don't cross the limits, but— What if something goes wrong?" Ron asked.

"What can go wrong? I bet you nothing even remotely exciting is ever going to happen to this old car."

Ron almost laughed.

"I don't—"

"I want to go," Ginny announced. She stole a curious look at Harry, then tentatively passed him and climbed into the back seat of the Ford Anglia.

Before Ron could argue anything else, Fred shoved him into the car. "You'll thank me later."

Harry took the chance to climb on the other side of Ginny and the car roared to life. With an uneven momentum, the old piece of junk stumbled into the air. It flew over the orchard, then spun around, closer to the Burrow. They stayed so close to the Burrow that Ron didn't even have a chance to argue about the enchantments' limits.

Perhaps I blew this out of proportion. Perhaps I'm just too bloody paranoid.

"Oh, that's my room. I left the curtains open," Ginny pointed with excitement, as if she'd never seen her bedroom before.

Her enthusiasm dwindled when the car swayed and she slid against Harry. "Sorry!" she hurried to say, jumping back to Ron's side with a mortified look.

Harry didn't pay it much mind. "It's alright," he muttered as he looked out of the window, marvelling at the ground below them as if he'd never ridden a broom before. "Have I said that I love Magic?"

The Ford Anglia went as high as Ron's room, and then some. The trip turned out to be quite comfortable to be honest. They never flew fast or too far away from the Burrow. When they landed back in the orchard, Fred gave Ron a look.

"Brilliant, wasn't it?" George asked, jumping out of the car and sporting a triumphant grin.

"Alright. I'll say it. It was actually quite fun," Ron agreed, joining George outside.

Harry made to open his own door when something strange happened. His door closed with a loud bang, throwing the boy inside. George's and Ron's doors closed as well, and they were both left gobsmacked on the ground as the car flew up.

"Fred! Stop this! It's not funny!" Ron shouted.

A mop of red hair came out of the driver's window and Fred shouted, "It's not me! This blasted thing is moving by itself!"

The Ford Anglia lifted completely over the trees before gaining speed. It flew out of the Burrow limits, carrying Harry, Ginny and Fred inside it.

Crap.

Ron hurried back to the paddock. He was kicking himself for his distraction, though he knew it wasn't the time for laments. As soon as he found the brooms, he hopped onto the Nimbus 2000.

George stopped right next to him.

"See if you can keep up. Fly lower, in case you need to catch anyone. I'll get to that ruddy car before it gets too far," Ron told his startled brother. George didn't argue. He took a broom as Ron picked up the other two that were left. "We're missing one," he said.

George nodded, already in the air. "I bet it's Fred's. The git must've taken it when he went looking for the car."

"Right. These two will have to do then."

Without wasting any more time, Ron kicked the ground and raced after the flying car. Catching up to it wasn't as easy as he thought it would be, though. The blasted thing had a head start, and it was now moving at a freakish speed.

Blimey! Since when does that old piece of junk fly this fast?

Ron pulled on the Nimbus' handle as the car went even higher up. He knew the broom could go faster, but he kept the speed under control. He didn't have any Quidditch goggles, and the wind was harsh against his face — besides, he didn't want to risk dropping the two brooms he was holding in his right hand.

The trees below became smaller and smaller as the car took them to the clouds. The air grew colder and thinner. The blustering wind made it harder to breathe as well. Ron pursued from a safe distance, trying to ease himself into the height. He also kept glancing frantically at his sides, half-expecting to find a pair of mismatched eyes or purple flames.

That prick did this. It was a trap and I fell right into it like the biggest dolt there ever was.

The American wasn't showing his stupid face, however. Ron only found a vast greenery down below. He saw barns and more orchards, too far away to distinguish any real detail from them. They were so high that no Muggle could casually spot them from the ground. A small blessing. Ron doubted Muggles were accustomed to seeing brooms chasing after flying cars on a regular basis.

Ron felt light-headed, but he couldn't just let the car go. Once sure that he wouldn't fall down, he increased the speed and slowly started gaining on the car.

Affording himself a look back, Ron spotted the Burrow far behind. George was closer, though he still trailed Ron from a considerable distance. Aside from them and some distant ospreys, the sky was unoccupied. The car flew unperturbed, as it had done that time Ron and Harry used it to chase after the Hogwarts express. Ages ago.

Ron's heart raced faster than Harry's broom, thumping hard in his chest.

How did I allow this to happen? It's like that fucking trap door all over again. I was thickheaded enough to let Harry and Hermione join me against the American… Now I am endangering Fred and Ginny too… No wonder Croaker thinks like he does…

Ron gritted his teeth. Giving reason to Saul Croaker made his guts churn, however, the truth was that the tosser had a point. Ron might have some skills, but as a time-traveller and the bloke taking the decision, he left much to be desired. He was from the future for fuck's sake. He had the knowledge to mould time as he pleased. Still, things had rarely gone the way he wanted them to go. He'd just been juggling things. In his urge to keep things unchanged he'd put people in danger. He'd let them tag along.

Maybe that's where I've been getting it wrong.

Whatever the case, it wasn't the time to muse about his approach to time-travelling. There was a ruddy flying car he needed to stop.

Ron pressed forward, keeping his face to the side so he could see and breathe better. The Ford Anglia got closer, and Ron surfed the skies behind it. He went left, then right, then left again. He steered sharply, looking for an opening. However, every damned time he dashed, the effing car turned in another direction.

That flying tin-can is avoiding me! What the fuck is controlling it?

When he looked past the car, Ron saw just where they were headed and swore. The town of Ottery St Catchpole was barely a dim silhouette in the horizon from their current position, but growing sharper by the second.

Why would the American take us there? Why didn't he attack the moment we crossed the Burrow's limits? What would he gain by— ? Unless— No. Fuck… Dobby?

Ron had almost forgotten about the elf, but Dobby as the culprit made perfect sense. Far more than the American, now that he thought about it. Fred had lost control of the car inside the Burrow's enchantments. The American couldn't have breached those. It had to be Dobby.

That freaking elf…

What was Dobby even trying to do? Crash the car into town? It was mental. But again, Dobby wasn't the sanest when it came to plans to keep Harry out of Hogwarts. As noble as his intentions were, Dobby had this twisted idea of saving Harry by giving him a direct ticket to a hospital bed. After all, hadn't he once released the bludger from hell to go after Harry?

A car crash though? Someone had to teach that barmy elf about magnitude!

Ron leaned forward and pushed harder ahead. He didn't stop until he reached the car. Once he grabbed the car's back defence, he ducked behind its boot. At least with the car cutting through the wind, he could breathe better.

Seconds later, Ron raised his head. From the other side of the back windscreen, he could see Harry and Ginny banging the window to get his attention. Despite clearly seeing their mouths move, Ron couldn't hear a hoot from them. He looked to the side, venturing a new hit of the wind. The town appeared much bigger than earlier. Soon they would be close enough to be spotted. If that wasn't good enough for a motivator, Ron knew the American could come out at any moment. Maybe he wasn't the one who took them out of the enchantments, but nothing stopped him from taking advantage of the mess Dobby surely created.

Ron needed to hurry.

He pressed to the left, managing to reach the doors before the car turned away. He tried to grab the door with the hand that was holding the other two brooms, but it was a terrible idea. One of the brooms fell down to the green fields far below, and Ron got a nasty look of all that air when he dove to stop the other one from slipping as well. The first broom fell so far that Ron saw it turn into a dot in the distance. He never knew when it hit the ground.

Merlin's fucking beard tied to a hippogriff! That's too fucking high!

Ron gulped, forcing himself to focus. Putting the remaining broom under his left armpit, he tried to control the Nimbus with his left hand. Once it stopped wiggling, Ron used his right to grab onto the handle of the Ford Anglia. Not turning down.

"Ron! We can't get out!" Ginny cried from inside the car.

"Move back!"

Ginny and Harry looked doubtful, but did as told. Ron pulled the handle. It didn't budge.

"It won't open! We told you!" Ginny yelled with a frown.

"I can see that now!" Ron shouted back, as the wind made his red hair block hit his eyes every couple of seconds. The car even swayed about, as if trying to get away from Ron's grip. He didn't have many options. "Stay there! You too, Fred!"

Ron let go of the handle for a second as he took out his wand, "Reducto!"

The car's door blasted away from its hinges and the car recoiled from the strength of it. Ron's broom jerked dangerously as well. Once the car swayed back, and before he even found proper balance, Ron dove forward. He clumsily made it inside, letting out a good relief swear as he landed on the back seat.

From the front, Fred blinked, gobsmacked. "You have to try for the Quidditch team. That was some wicked control there."

It didn't feel like I was in control of much.

"Do you reckon we should exchange pointers now? Seems like a great time to talk about Quidditch," Ron blurted out, then shook his head. "Sure you can't turn this crap around?"

Fred started the car and moved the steering wheel hard, but nothing changed. Ron dared a glance outside and saw the tires turning at Fred's command, though the car ignored them and went in a different direction. "If you want to give it a shot, be my guest," Fred said, once he turned the car off in defeat.

"Bugger that. Take this. I dropped the other one," Ron shouted as he passed the old broom he hadn't dropped. Then gave Harry the Nimbus 2000, "Mate—"

"Wait, what about you?" Harry asked.

"Take my sister. I'll ride with Fred."

Ginny mumbled that she could ride by herself. However, their number of brooms was quite limited. Harry nodded stoically at Ron's request, and soon flew out of the car with a deep red Ginny holding onto his waist.

Swiftly, Fred climbed to the back seat. He gave Ron a hard look. "You and I both know this ol' twig can't hold two people," Fred said once they were alone, trying to give him the old broom back. "I'll stay."

No fucking way. The flying car wouldn't be hard to handle, but even if circumstances were different, there was no universe where Ron would leave Fred behind like that. Not again.

"I have a better shot at controlling this junk," Ron answered, already wondering what would be the best spell to use.

"Oh, yeah? What will you do? The Reductor Curse?" Fred asked, narrowing his eyes. "I admit that I'm impressed. We barely started with that one last year. But unless you have something more under that tricky sleeve of yours, I don't think you can get out of this one by blowing the car to pieces."

Blimey! The spell— I didn't even think— Doesn't bloody matter anyway. Not now.

"Just get out, you git. George's right behind. You two can catch me if I fall. You're stronger. And Harry will come back for me once he's dropped Ginny off anyway. He's faster, and has an even bigger chance, I reckon."

Fred crossed his arms. It didn't look as if he was leaving.

The relationship with the twins had been a complicated one for Ron. When he was younger, he'd always wished to be half as amazing and fun as they were. On the other hand, back then, they would often bully him just for the giggles. That was the surface, of course. Ron grew to have a very solid relationship with George, but even back in his childhood, he knew the twins would support him when it mattered. If the situation required, Ron's brothers would stand by him against anything. Be it a young Draco Malfoy, or a crazy old flying car, they were there for him.

Not like Ron was willing to put them in danger.

"Out!" Ron bellowed.

Before he could get a response from Fred, the car shook. The speed came drastically down, and the bonnet leaned forward almost in slow motion. Then it started its descent.

What the— !

It was madness. There was wind everywhere and Ron couldn't see straight, much less think straight. In a rush of sanity though, he saw Fred bouncing along him and pushed his brother out of the car through the missing door, making sure he had his broom with him.

"You'll thank me later!" Ron shouted through the tempestuous wind.

Fred stumbled out of the falling car. Ron leaned out with his wand ready, in case Fred wasn't able to mount his broom. The car turned around though, and Ron fell out as well.

The world was a blur. Ron fell with a maddening speed from who-knew-how-high. There were dashes of green and blue in every direction. He was still holding his wand for dear life, yet he couldn't decide on any spell until he knew what was up and what was down.

Out of nowhere, someone grabbed him and the world stopped spinning. It was Fred. Not only had he managed to mount his broom, but he'd also darted down to grab Ron. Fred's hair was blowing in the wind, but he looked otherwise euphoric at having reached him. It was a small triumph however. As they had feared, that sorry excuse of a broom struggled under their weight. Even if at a slower and uneven pace, they were both still falling.

Fred pulled up with all his strength. There weren't stopping though. The handle was actually bending.

It'll crack! The bloody handle will crack!

"Let go!" Ron cried.

Before any other alternative came to Ron's mind, a new hand was holding onto him by the armpit. This time, they all stopped mid-air. The new hand belonged to Harry, who was smiling widely.

"Humphf…. Well… huff… About damn time," Ron joked, heaving.

"It's going to crash," Fred shouted, looking down.

Below, the Ford Anglia was reaching the end of the road. It was going to land on a farm in the outskirts of town, where innocent people didn't expect cars to rain down on them.

Ron didn't waste a second thinking. He let go of Fred and pointed his wand downwards as he held onto Harry. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

There was a loud crack as the car lost all of its momentum, but it stopped just feet away from hitting the ground. Ron let it land softly by a barn.

Ron climbed onto Harry's broom. George reached them as they floated down, and soon they all landed on the hill where Ginny was waiting for them.

It wasn't every day that Ron felt relieved to climb down from a broom.

I swear, if I didn't owe my life to that bleeding elf… What the fuck was Dobby thinking?!

Downhill, a group of head-scratching Muggles were already surrounding the Ford Anglia. Bringing that one back to the Burrow would be a hassle, but they could hardly leave it behind.

"It's all my fault," Harry said, naturally. "We saw Dobby on our way down. I tried to stop whatever he was doing. When he saw me, he popped away and the car came down. Sorry, I wasn't expecting—"

"You saved my life, mate. You're the last person to blame here. Put that in that thick skull of yours," Ron blurted out.

"Only after you saved us."

Fred dragged his feet heavily. He patted Ron's back with a troubled gesture. He looked pale. "Oy! Don't discourage him, Ronnie. At least let me pretend for a moment that it's not me who Mum's going to murder."

"Right. About that… "

Ron went on to explain the story they needed to tell their mother. It involved making it sound less dangerous by minimising the height they had been flying at. Ron also suggested turning the whole thing into a magical accident, as he didn't want to mention Dobby at all.

The idea didn't sound that good to Fred and Harry, who felt as if Ron deserved some kind of recognition — a silly suggestion, as Ron found his flying feat to be overblown and undeserving of any praise. They were still arguing about it when a group of people arrived at the scene of the car crash. By the way they were dressed and their prompt arrival, Ron knew they couldn't be anything but Obliviators.

Perfect. Just bloody perfect.

Their mother arrived moments later, looking indeed murderous and riding the broom Fred had left behind. She scolded them on that hill about leaving the Burrow's limits, and how spare she had been going when she couldn't find them. She switched between anger and relief with a maddening pace.

It didn't take long for the Obliviators to notice them.

"What in Merlin's name happened here? Is that your father's car?" Ron's mother asked, flustered.

"Most of it," George replied, "There's also a back door a mile or two from here."

Their mother blinked, incredulously.

"Well then, can you explain this as well?" she asked with a frown, pulling a letter from her pocket.

Ron's mother was fuming as they all gathered around to read the letter. By the time they had finished, the colour had all but drained from Ron's face.

-o-

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,

We have received intelligence that a Reductor Curse and a Levitation Charm were performed near the village of Ottery St Catchpole this afternoon at five minutes past four.

After serious analysis, we came to the conclusion that the caster of these spells is possibly one of your children. We have a team in place to confirm. As you should be aware, underage wizards are not permitted to perform magic outside school. Due to the closeness in time of these transgressions, we've been lenient and are considering this as a single infraction. However, may this be a warning that any further spellwork on the culprit's part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C).

We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles, such as the ones living in the village of Ottery St Catchpole) is a serious offence under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy. We received reports of Muggle sightings in your area, and your children appear to be involved.

Enjoy your holidays! Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE

Ministry of Magic

-o-

Well, what a rotten turn of events.

Having been an adult already, it was easy for Ron to forget at times that he was in the past and the Trace still applied to him. Inside the Burrow, it didn't matter, but once outside its limits, Ron was subject to it as anyone else.

The Obliviators made their way to them, and Ron knew how this was going to end. They were going to find out that it was him who broke the Underage Restriction. Ron was going to stick to his story, which would downplay the importance of those spells. The Ministry had already detected the Levitation Charm, so it wouldn't be hard to pass the whole thing as a spell gone rogue. After all, saying the car flew due to a haywire spell cast by an underage wizard, and not because someone had tampered with said car, felt like the best approach.

It would avoid questions about Dobby at least.

Ron could almost read the Prophet's headlines: 'Stupid kid makes car fly. Breaks Underage Restriction, but stops short of breaking the Statute of Secrecy. Loses car's door in the process'.

Brilliant. Just the kind of news that will convince that wanker Croaker that I can't be relied on.

Ron couldn't help but think how ironic this whole situation actually was. He had saved Harry from getting a Ministry warning, only to get one himself. At least Fate had a sense of humour, even if Ron thought himself to be the laughingstock of it.