Chapter 86: Hideous Attire

Neither Dad nor Percy was at home much over the following week. Both left the house each morning before the rest of the family got up, and returned well after dinner every night.

"It's been an absolute uproar," Percy told us the Sunday evening before we were due to return to Hogwarts. "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders."

"Why are they all sending Howlers?" asked Ginny, who was mending her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi with Spellotape on the rug in front of the living room fire.

"Complaining about security at the World Cup," said Percy. "They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks."

Mum glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. Eight of the hands were currently pointing to the "home" position, but Dad's, which was the longest, was still pointing to "work."

"Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You-Know-Who," she said. "They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."

"Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" said Percy. "If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first -"

"Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" said Mum, flaring up at once.

"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented," said Bill, who was playing chess with me. "Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts' Charm Breakers once, and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?"

"Well, it is a bit long, dear," said Mum gently. "If you'd just let me -"

"No, Mum."

Mum hated Bill's long hair. She was starting to hate mine as well as the twins too, as we were trying to grow ours out as well.

"Well well," said Bill impressively, as he looked at the chessboard. "You've gotten better, Ronnie."

I grinned. I was just a couple moves away from having Bill in checkmate.

"So, how was swimming the other day?" said Bill.

My eyes grew wide. "How the bloody-"

"I see all, baby brother. You seemed to have enjoyed yourself."

I thought about it while I made my move. Hell yes I enjoyed it, every minute.

"I mean, it was fun, I guess." I said.

"Just keep in mind what I said. And try not to be so obvious." said Bill.

I nodded as I have Hermione a side glance as I made another absentminded move. She was lost in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, copies of which Mum had bought for her, Harry, and I in Diagon Alley.

"Oh look," said Bill smugly. "Checkmate."

I looked down. Sure enough, the waker or a brother of mine had distracted me into screwing my damn self.

"Sod off." I mumbled.

Rain lashed against the living room window. Charlie was darning a fireproof balaclava. Harry was polishing his Firebolt, the broomstick servicing kit Hermione had given him for his thirteenth birthday open at his feet. Fred and George were sitting in a far corner, quills out, talking in whispers, their heads bent over a piece of parchment.

"What are you two up to?" said Mum sharply, her eyes on the twins.

"Homework," said Fred vaguely.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," said Mum.

"Yeah, we've left it a bit late," said George.

"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?" said Mum shrewdly. "You wouldn't be thinking of restarting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"

"Now, Mum," said Fred, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"

Everyone laughed, including Mum.

"Oh your father's coming!" she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again.

Dad's hand had suddenly spun from "work" to "traveling"; a second later it had shuddered to a halt on "home" with the others, and we heard him calling from the kitchen.

"Coming, Arthur!" called Mum, hurrying out of the room.

A few moments later, Dad came into the warm living room carrying his dinner on a tray. He looked completely exhausted.

"Well, the fat's really in the fire now," he told Mum as he sat down in an armchair near the hearth and toyed unenthusiastically with his somewhat shriveled cauliflower. "Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."

"Mr. Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks," said Percy swiftly.

Bill gave Percy a look of warning.

"Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky," said Dad. "There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark."

"I thought we were all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Mark?" said Percy hotly.

"If you ask me, Mr. Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!" said Hermione angrily.

"Now look here, Hermione!" said Percy. "A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr. Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants -"

"His slave, you mean!" said Hermione, her voice rising passionately, "because he didn't pay Winky, did he?"

"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" said Mum, breaking up the argument. "Come on now, all of you..."

Hermione and Percy were having a heated staring contest. Ginny had to pull her up the stairs. Harry repacked his broomstick servicing kit, put his Firebolt over his shoulder, and went back upstairs with me. The rain sounded even louder at the top of the house, accompanied by loud whistles and moans from the wind, not to mention sporadic howls from the ghoul who lived in the attic. I was pretty used to it by now, and would have probably been relaxed by the rain, if it wasn't for the ghoul.

Pig began twittering and zooming around his cage when they entered. The sight of the half-packed trunks seemed to have sent him into a frenzy of excitement.

"Bung him some Owl Treats," I said, throwing a packet across to Harry for him to give out. "It might shut him up."

Harry poked a few Owl Treats through the bars of Pigwidgeon's cage, then turned to his trunk. Hedwig's cage stood next to it, still empty.

"It's been over a week," Harry said, looking at Hedwig's deserted perch. "Ron, you don't reckon Sirius has been caught, do you?"

"Nah, it would've been in the Daily Prophet. The Ministry would want to show they'd caught someone, wouldn't they?"

"Yeah, I suppose..."

"It's alright there. Look, here's the stuff Mum got for you in Diagon Alley. And she's got some gold out of your vault for you, and she's washed all your socks."

I heaved a pile of parcels onto Harry's camp bed and dropped the money bag and a load of socks next to it. Harry started unwrapping the shopping. Apart from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, by Miranda Goshawk, he had a handful of new quills, a dozen rolls of parchment, and refills for his potion-making kit.

I turned to my bed and had just started sorting my clothes, when my hand landed on something ghastly. It looked a long, maroon velvet dress. It had a moldy-looking lace frill at the collar and matching lace cuffs.

"What is that supposed to be?" I said in disgust. Harry turned around and gave it the same face that I had given it.

There was a knock on the door, and Mum entered, carrying an armful of freshly laundered Hogwarts robes.

"Here you are," she said, sorting them into two piles. "Now, mind you pack them properly so they don't crease."

"Mum, you've given me Ginny's new dress." I said, handing the horrendous material out to her.

"Of course I haven't," said Mum. "That's for you. Dress robes."

"What?" I said, horror-struck.

"Dress robes! It says on your school list that you're supposed to have dress robes this year...robes for formal occasions."

"You're kidding. I'm not wearing that, no way." I said, plopping it onto my bed

"Everyone wears them, Ron!" said Mum crossly. "They're all like that! Your father's got some for smart parties!"

"I'll go starkers before I put that on." I said truthfully. There was no way I was about to embarrass myself in that filth.

"Don't be so silly," said Mum. "You've got to have dress robes, they're on your list! I got some for Harry too...show him, Harry..."

Harry opened the last parcel on his camp bed. His dress robes looked alright. Better than alright. They didn't have any lace on them at all. In fact, they were more or less the same as our school ones, except that they were green instead of black.

"I thought they'd bring out the color of your eyes, dear," said Mum fondly.

"Well, they're okay!" I said angrily, looking at Harry's robes, with the jealously I didn't want to have behind my eyes . "Why couldn't I have some like that?"

"Because...well, I had to get yours secondhand, and there wasn't a lot of choice!" said Mum crossly.

I felt bad for that, but at the same time, I was completely annoyed.

"I'm never wearing them. Never." I said, as a final amen

"Fine," snapped Mum. "Go naked. And, Harry, make sure you get a picture of him. Goodness knows I could do with a laugh."

She left the room, slamming the door behind her. Harry looked at me with a look of pity. Making me feel bloody worse.

"Why is everything I own rubbish?" I said furiously, striding across the room to unstick Pigwidgeon's beak, who had gotten a treat stuck in it.