Ron sat at the kitchen table for at least an hour, waiting for Hermione to arrive. He had tried playing Wizard’s Chess against the other pieces, tried to sleep, and, shockingly even to him, tried to read, but in the end he knew that everything in the entire house was boring and there was nothing to do but wait for her. He was restless. Throughout the day Ginny teased him, saying how cute it was that he was so unhappy without Hermione around.
She’s just mad because I pushed her into that puddle of mud in the pigpen yesterday.
It was just a coincidence that Ron looked out the window just as Hermione was approaching the Burrow, dragging her bags. He grinned, jumping up from the chair and running to the door, opening it before she could even knock. She was surprised, obviously, but smiled, and dropping her bags she came inside the house and threw her arms around him. He wrapped his arms around her and let her hair fall over his face. She smelled of apples.
“I know school has only been over for a few weeks, but I’ve missed you!” she said after they let go, making his stomach flip.
“I’ve missed you, too,” Ron replied, picking up her bags.
“I think your hair’s grown a bit,” Hermione said, observing him.
“Er, I guess,” Ron replied, screwing up his face to try and see his hair. Hermione laughed.
“Where’s Harry?”
Of course, she wants to know where Harry is- she’s always concerned about him. She probably doesn’t think about me at all.
“Still at his uncle’s house,” Ron said rather curtly as they made their way more into the house.
“Hermione!”
Ginny came bounding down the stairs and into the kitchen. “How’re you?” she asked Hermione, hugging her.
“I’m fine, you?”
“Good.”
Hermione looked around the kitchen area as Ron pulled her luggage to the stairs with great effort.
“What did you pack in here- cauldrons?” Ron asked sarcastically.
"Just two," Hermione replied, pulling a face at Ron, who returned it. But when he turned around again he grinned broadly.
“So where is everybody?” She asked, sitting at the table with Ginny. Ron sat down across from them.
“Dad’s at work, obviously, and mum’s out shopping,” Ginny informed her.
Ron was just about to tell Hermione that Fred and George were in their room, but there was no need. There was a sharp crack as the twins Apparated into the kitchen and grinned broadly at Hermione.
“I see you’ve both got your licenses, then?” she observed.
George nodded. “Yep, it was-”
“-really easy,” Fred finished. It was very creepy how they could finish eachother’s sentences like that.
All of a sudden, a beautiful red and gold bird flew in through the open window, making everyone jump. But as Ron looked at it more closely, he realized that it wasn’t just any bird, but Dumbledore’s phoenix, Fawkes. He recognized it from his second year.
Fawkes landed gracefully in the center of the table and dropped a square letter on the wood. He looked around at everyone, almost smiling, and vanished with a crack.
“That was weird,” Ginny commented as Ron picked up the letter and tore it open.
“Ron! How do you know that letter’s addressed to you?” Hermione said indignantly, but Ron read it aloud anyway:
“Shift to headquarters immediately. Have informed Arthur.”
There was a moment of silence in which everybody else expected Ron to read more, but it didn’t happen.
“That’s all?” Fred asked disappointedly.
“That’s all,” Ron said.
Fred frowned. “What does ‘shift to headquarters’ mean?”
Everyone else shrugged.
There was another sharp crack as Mrs. Weasley Apparated into the kitchen with about five bags, fully packed, in her hands. She looked tired and slightly harassed. She let out a sharp sigh, set down the bags, and greeted everybody.
“Oh, Hermione, it’s so nice to see you! How have you been?” she said, giving Hermione a hug. “Are you hungry? You look like you haven’t eaten anything.”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Hermione replied.
They followed Mrs. Weasley into the den, where she fell into an old armchair. She waved her wand and a squashy footstool appeared beneath her stretched out legs.
Ron handed the letter to Mrs. Weasley.
“What’s this?” Mrs. Weasley asked, opening the note. She suddenly turned very pale as her eyes skimmed the parchment over and over.
“What is it?” Ginny asked, suddenly looking alarmed.
Mrs. Weasley stood up abruptly from the chair and looked around at them all. “Start packing,” she said simply.
“What?”
“Start packing,” Mrs. Weasley repeated and walked hastily back into the kitchen.
“What’s going on?” Ron asked, following her.
Mrs. Weasley stopped in her tracks. She turned around and looked Ron straight in the eyes. “We have to go. Everything will be explained when we get there, I promise. Don’t ask any more questions, just pack up and be back down here when you’re done.”
Ron followed his mother to the stairs, and when she was halfway up, said, “What do I pack?”
“Whatever you usually pack for Hogwarts, we won’t be coming back here this summer.”
With that Mrs. Weasley started back up the stairs with Ron staring after her with his mouth open. He ran back to the others, but Hermione and Ginny were the only ones left; Fred and George had Disapparated to their bedroom.
“She says that we won’t be coming back here this summer,” Ron told Ginny and Hermione.
“Well, that’s no problem for me, seeing as how I’m already packed,” Hermione said, clearly feeling awkward.
“Then you can come upstairs and help me,” Ginny said, and both girls went upstairs to Ginny’s bedroom. Ron followed them but departed and went into his own bedroom. Just before he closed his door, he looked back and watched Hermione going down the hall and into his sister’s bedroom.
Before he took out his trunk, he flung himself on his bed and stared at his Chudley Canons poster on the other side of his tiny room, thinking,
What’s going on? What could mum possibly not be telling us? I wonder if Harry knows about this…
An hour later everyone but Mrs. Weasley was back in the kitchen with all of their belongings, ready to leave to wherever they were going.
“Are we Flooing there?” Ginny asked Mrs. Weasley as she scrambled down the stairs with two suitcases, looking flustered.
“Yes, dear.”
“Where are we going?” Fred inquired as Mrs. Weasley went over to the front of their fireplace. She took out the pot of Floo Powder.
“Number twelve, Grimmauld Place,” she said, looking around at their curious faces. “Since you asked, you can go first,” she told Fred.
Fred shrugged and walked into the fireplace with his suitcase. Taking a pinch of Floo Powder from the pot that Mrs. Weasley held out to him, he looked straight ahead and recited clearly what he had just heard. In a flash of green flames, he was gone. George and Ginny did the same thing. Ron noticed that Hermione, who had been rather quiet, even for her, had gone wide-eyed.
“Er, mum?” Ron said quickly as Mrs. Weasley held out the pot to Hermione, who looked at it questioningly.
“Yes, dear?”
“Hermione’s never traveled by Floo Powder before,” Ron informed her, and Mrs. Weasley let her arms down.
“I know what it is and how it’s used,” Hermione said quickly, “I’ve just never done it before…”
Ron looked between Hermione and Mrs. Weasley and seized his chance. “Here, I’ll help you, it’s really easy,” he said, putting his trunk down and taking Hermione’s hand gently. He lead her to the fireplace helped her inside. He positioned her, although he knew that there was no need, but he couldn’t help wanting to touch her.
“Stand just like that.”
Ron brought Hermione her trunk and pushed it next to her in the fireplace. He then took the pot of Floo Powder from his mum, who he did not notice was smirking slightly, and held it out to Hermione.
“Just take a little bit- do what they did. And make sure you speak clearly,” Ron commanded, “or you could wind up in a completely different fireplace.”
And I couldn’t deal with it if I lost you…
Hermione looked horrified, but took a pinch of the powder bravely. “All right, well, here goes nothing… Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!” she shouted and threw the powder down. The green flames soon swallowed her up and Ron’s stomach lurched with a sense of loss as he himself climbed inside the fireplace with his trunk.
He looked over to Mrs. Weasley, who was smiling.
“What?” Ron snapped. “Can’t I help a friend?”
Mrs. Weasley shrugged, still smiling, and took the pot from him after he had taken the pinch of powder. “See you in a minute,” she told him and stepped back.
Ron’s stomach was full of butterflies. Had he really been that obvious? He didn’t even know if Hermione was safe, or where she was.
I guess I’ll find out in a second.
Ron clutched the handle on his trunk, shouted, “Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!” and he was instantly spinning in a room of green fire.