Ron awoke from the sound of a crash and a boom over his head. Groaning, he pulled his pillow over his head and dug under his blanket, trying to block out the sound. His feet, which had until now been sticking out over the edge of his bed, his ankles peeking out from the hem of his pajama bottoms, were drawn under the blanket’s warmth as well. However, it seemed that the ghoul had become psychic and could tell what he had done, because it only began to pound on the pipes harder, singing along to its ‘music.’
Frustrated, Ron stuck his head out from under the cover and picked up his fake wand from his night-side table. He pointed it up at the ceiling and screamed with a warning tone to his voice, “If you don’t shut the blasted hell up, I’ll magic you into something frightful!”
Now, either the ghoul had cottoned on that Ron’s wand wasn’t real, or it wanted to be turned into ‘something frightful’ as it now began composing a symphony. Ron thought for a moment and then screamed, “And what if I turn you into an itsy bitsy fluffy bunny rabbit for Ginny?”
This seemed to have the desired affect because the ghoul paused mid-bang. After a few moments of silence, Ron gratefully re-buried himself. But the ghoul was off again the second his head hit the pillow, obviously thinking itself to be the next great British composer.
“Good work Ron,” a voice said, coming from behind him, following the creak of the door.
“Yeah,” continued another, practically identical to the first. “Tell him you’ll turn him into a bunny; that’s sure to scare him. And with a fake wand?” the voice asked silently. “That’s just going about it all wrong.”
“Oh, shut up,” Ron scowled, emerging from under the cover to face his two older, twin brothers, Fred and George.
“Imagine,” Fred said, turning to face George, “Daily Prophet headline: Giant rabbit terrorizes the nation. Ministry works tirelessly to reverse a spell gone horribly wrong.”
“Besides,” George continued for Fred, “you couldn’t even do that until you’ve learned magic.”
“Which you can’t do unless you go to school.”
“And you can’t go to school unless you’ve been accepted“”
“Which you would know only when you got your letter“”
“Which is something you haven’t got,” George finished, smiling broadly.
“Then again,” Fred added with an extra evil smirk, “it isn’t like you even have a wand to do magic with to begin with.”
“Shut up,” Ron said again, his ears turning pink.
“Are you talking to us or Mozart up there?” George asked, pointing up at the ceiling that was still banging away.
“One guess,” Ron said darkly.
“Or what?” Fred asked, falling down on one side of Ron’s already too-small bed.
“You’ll turn us into flies?” George asked, laying down on the other side of him.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Fred mocked, leaning over to wag his finger in George’s face. “He’ll send Scabbers after us!” He picked up Scabbers the rat from the bedside table with a flourish.
“Put him down,” Ron said, glaring at him.
“But I don’t want to,” Fred whined. “I’m so very bored and I want some action.”
“I said, put him down.”
“Why?”
“Why not? What did he ever do to you?”
“Nothing,” George said said, grabbing Scabbers (who was still sleeping) from Fred’s hands. “Absolutely nothing. Which, mind you, is the only thing he ever does.”
Suddenly, George jumped up from the bed to stand next to Ron’s Chudley Canons poster. “Catch,” he called out and tossed Scabbers at Fred, who caught him in surprise. Getting the idea, Fred sat up and threw the still sleeping rat back at George who caught him deftly and tossed him back. As they continued to play catch with Scabbers over Ron’s head, they began to talk casually, as if in the middle of afternoon tea.
“So,” Fred began, “d’you think that Percy put a spell on Scabbers before he gave him to Ron?”
“Why, whatever do you mean?” George asked as he tossed back the rat.
“Well,” Fred said, pausing for a moment to think. “Like a slowing potion, or something.”
“Nah,” George said, shrugging his shoulders and stepping back as Ron lunged for his rat. “He isn’t smart enough.”
“Too true. Too true,” Fred agreed sadly, shaking his head.
“But don’t tell him that,” George continued in a warning tone.
“Why not?”
“Well, he wouldn’t believe you,” George said, side-stepping Ron.
“Really?”
“Really,” George replied, nodding his head.
“Well,” Fred started, a look of pure puzzlement on his face, “well, then why“”
““does Scabbers do nothing but sleep?”
“Yes!” Fred said, as though desperate for an answer.
“I just don’t know,” George said, a look of utter defeat on his own face.
“It’s quite peculiar.”
“Yes. I find myself forced to agree with you.”
“Well, what if“” Fred started as he tossed Scabbers.
“What if what?” George asked in mock excitement as he caught him.
“Nah. It’s too crazy.”
“No, tell me!”
“I was just thinking“”
“What?”
“Well, what if we“”
“Yes?”
“If you’d shut up for a moment I could tell you, but if you interrupt me every two seconds if would be bloody well hard, wouldn’t it?”
“Sorry,” George said meekly before smirking.
“Hmph,” Fred said. “Well, what if we did a spell?”
“You mean to make him more active, or something?”
“Exactly,” Fred said, smiling broadly.
“Why not?”
“That was exactly my thought!” Fred said.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” George asked.
“I have no idea. Let us go, shall we?” Fred asked, turning to the door.
Taking advantage of the lapse in his attention, Ron tensed himself and then, as Fred put his foot through the door, let loose a scream, tackled Fred, and as they fell to the floor, started to pound him into it.
“Grab him!” Fred yelled, putting his hands up to protect his face. “Oof!” he cried as Ron punched him in the stomach, trying to avoid Scabbers.
“Okay,” George said, obliging him by stepping over him to take the rat from his hands.
“Not him, you blasted idiot!” Fred yelled, sparing a moment to look at George as if he was insane. “Ron!”
“Oh,” George said stupidly. “That makes more sense.”
“So grab him!” Fred screamed, trying to force Ron’s fists away from his face, which he had started punching now that Fred was no longer holding Scabbers in front of it.
“Sorry,” George said quickly, dropping to the floor to join the scuffle as he let go of the rat.
(Scabbers chose this point to finally wake up. Slowly and painstakingly, he crawled across the floor and climbed up onto Ron’s bed where he promptly fell back asleep, apparently unfazed by the show of brotherly love the Weasleys were showing one another.)
There was a few more minutes of scuffling, name-calling and ‘bad words’ spoken when they all stopped suddenly, Fred in mid-curse and Ron in mid-punch when a huge shadow loomed suddenly over them.
“WELL!” their mother huffed. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anything so undignified so early in the morning!” She glared at the three of them. “George, get off Ron. Ron, get off Fred. And Fred, get off the floor. All of you hurry up; I don’t have all day. Get dressed and come down to breakfast. NOW!” she finished in a bark as she turned on her heel and Disapparated.
The three of them quickly got off the floor. The twins mumbled a quick apology to Ron, sounding anything but and swiftly left the room. Ron slammed the door after them and turned to the center of his room. He started to sort through the clothes on the floor, searching for a pair of pants and a shirt clean enough to wear. He was dressed in minutes and started towards the door, but then stopped to take one last look back at Scabbers, who was still sleeping.
“Amazing,” he muttered, shaking his head. “They’re absolutely right. He doesn’t do anything but sleep.” Still shaking his head, he left his room and headed down the rickety wooden steps.
“Morning Ron,” Percy said as he walked into the kitchen.
“Morning Perce,” Ron said with a yawn, walking right past him.
“Why Ron!” Percy exclaimed, obviously offended. “I would think that you would treat a prefect with more respect.”
“Well, yeah, you would,” Fred quipped, joining them.
“Yeah Percy,” George said, following Fred in. “Get over yourself. Please. You’re really not all that great.”
“Uh huh,” their little sister piped up in agreement, taking her attention away from her eggs. “You don’t get to boss people around as a prefect until you get to Hogwarts. Until then, you’re just our older, annoying, overly-conceited brother.”
“Now Ginny,” George chided, passing her an apple, “that’s wrong.”
“What?” Percy and Ginny spluttered together. He never disagreed with her to take Percy’s side.
“You forgot more,” he answered with a smirk as he buttered a roll.
“In English,” Ron sighed. “Please.”
“I meant,” George said, sounding long-suffering, “that you should have said he doesn’t get to boss more people around more of the time. Not that any of us listen to his bossing as it is, but“” He shrugged.
“Oh,” Ginny said wisely, and then giggled.
“Oh come off it Percy,” Fred said loudly, a look of annoyance spreading over his face as he saw the shocked one on Percy’s. “You really aren’t that good. You’re all of an over-pompous, over-stuffed, taking-credit-that-isn’t-yours jerk sometimes. No, all the time. Oh,” he continued as an afterthought, “you also think too much of yourself.”
“Well,” Percy huffed, looking at Fred, the shock still on his face. “I have never“”
“Now, now Percy,” George said, wagging his finger at him, “it’s wrong to lie. You have too been insulted before.”
“Why George!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, sweeping into the kitchen as the others tried not to laugh. “One would think that you would have more brains than to make cheap jokes at you brother’s expense. Besides,” she continued, beaming down at Percy, “he’s a prefect.”
“Oh joy,” Fred said dryly, sarcasm dripping from his words. “Have you informed the Queen, the Ministry, the Daily Prophet“”
His mother’s mouth set in a firm line. “Don’t bother Percy. That’s all. End of conversation.”
“Why not?” Ron asked, ignoring the tone that had said the conversation was over.
“Because he’s a prefect,” Ginny whispered, leaning over the table, the air over the table now conspirative.
“Nuh uh,” Fred said, leaning across the table and putting his hands around his mouth. “It’s because he’s perfect. He could be a cracked toilet bowl and she’d still love him more than us.”
“I heard that,” their mother said, gliding over to the table with a strained smile as Ginny, Ron and George tried to muffle their laughter behind their hands. “Fred,” she continued, “if you move your hands I can serve you. Besides,” she added as she spooned eggs and bacon on to his plate, “it’s not really that I love him more; it’s just easier to show love to someone who isn’t disagreeable.”
Fred snorted and Ron watched as a look of fury spread over his mother’s face. He was about to warn Fred when the look softened to a worn and tired sigh as she moved around the table to serve George and Percy. Reaching him, she served him and then placed the pan on the table, bending down to adjust his shirt.
“Has it come yet?” she asked as the others began to speak.
“Don’t you think I would tell you?” he snapped, wondering why it couldn’t wait.
“Don’t worry dear,” she said sympathetically, wetting a napkin and beginning to clean his face, “it’ll be here any day now and until then“”
“What?” Ron asked, a sour look on his face.
“You’ll be considerably nicer to the rest of us,” she answered in an unkind tone.
Ron didn’t answer, just stared, non-blinking at his food.
“What was that you said?” his mother said after a moment, giving him a look. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled at his eggs.
He continued to stare at his plate even after she had turned around, now completely off his breakfast. There wasn’t a chance that she was even half as anxious as he was, and if she was, he knew how much she wanted to know. But why did she have to keep on bringing it up? It would come when it came and not before. He wished everyone would just shut up about the stupid letter.
He forced himself to eat a fork-ful of eggs and then continued to brood until his mother spoke up again. “The three of you had better hurry up.”
“Which three?” Ginny asked, looking up from his plate.
“Ron and the twins.”
“Why?” George asked through a mouthful of eggs.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she chided.
“Sorry,” he said and swallowed. “Why?” he asked again.
“Because I’d like it if you were done de-gnoming the garden by lunch.”
“WHAT?!?” Fred spluttered, half-chewed eggs flying from his mouth.
“How many times do I have to tell you?” Mrs. Weasley said tiredly, picking some egg from her hair. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. Let alone yell. And it’s because the three of you made a racket this morning. You were bothering Ron on his first day of real vacation. This is your punishment.”
“Oh no!” Fred said in mock remorse, turning to George. “Did you hear? We hurt itty bitty Ronny’s feelings!” He turned to Ron, saying in a baby voice, “Did Freddy and Georgy hurt Ronny’s feelings? We’re so sorry if we did. Please forgive us Ronniekins,” he begged in earnest, leaning close to Ron.
“Shut up,” Ron said angrily, shoving Fred’s head out of his face as the twins burst out laughing. “What did I do?” he asked, turning to his mother.
“You woke up Mozart,” she answered, pointing her wand at the ceiling.
“That’s not true!” Ron protested, yelling. “He woke me up!”
“Ronald Weasley,” his mother said, her voice strained, “I have lived in this house for quite a bit longer than you have and that ghoul does NOT MAKE ANY NOISE UNLESS PROVOKED!” She looked at Ron, now calm, and said, “In either case, it gave your father quite the shock, it did. He came home very late last night“something about a damned teakettle“when that ghoul decided to share a free concert with us. You had all better quiet today!” she said severely, shaking a spoon at them.
Ron snorted. “You think you have it bad? I sleep under him!”
“Well, I’ve been telling you for years that if you have a problem with it you can sleep in the garage or with the gnomes.”
Ron rolled his eyes and the fury filled her face again. “If it isn’t done before lunch there’ll be hell to pay,” she said, her tone final, and turned on her heel, Disapparating.
“I hate it when she does that!” Ron yelled, pushing his chair away from the table angrily. Can’t wait till I can Apparate he thought, dumping his still full plate in the sink. It automatically began to clean them as he turned to follow the twins out to the garden.
“Hey Fred!” George called as he grabbed a gnome and raised it over his head, “Watch this!”
“Hold on!” he called back as he hurried over, holding his own kicking and screaming gnome. Stopping ten feet away from George, he took a firm stance. “See who can throw ‘em farther?”
“Kay,” George said. “Three swings?”
“Yep.”
The both lifted their gnomes.
“Starting...now,” Fred said. “One...two...three...now!”
They both swung their gnomes as far as they could, reflexively raising their hands to shade their eyes from the glaring sun and watched as the gnomes went soaring over fences and bushes before landing.
“Ha!” George shouted, jumping up. “Mine went further!”
“What?!?” Fred yelled, staring at George, his mouth hanging open. “Are you loony? Mine went further!”
George stopped jumping to look at his twin. “Excuse me? Are you blind?”
“You should be asking yourself that same question,” Fred said, hands on his hips. “Mine definitely went further.”
“Are you stupid? Look at them; they’re still lying there!”
“Exactly, and mine is further!"
“Are you kidding me?” George shouted in outrage, waving his hands about wildly. “Mine obviously went further than yours.”
“You wish!” Fred snorted, diving suddenly at a bush, emerging with another gnome. “Rematch?”
“Absolutely!” George answered, pouncing on a gnome that was trying to creep away.
Shaking his head at them, Ron turned away from the feuding twins to find a gnome he could inflict his anger on. Spotting one peeking out from under a bush, he tackled it and, after a moment or two, during which they both got badly scratched, Ron crawled out from under the bush, the gnome held tightly in his grip. Digging his feet into the ground, he began to turn, whirling the gnome higher and higher with each spin as he gained momentum.
The gnome was desperately trying to scratch him, as it screeched, “Gerroff me! Gerroff me!”
“You want me to let go of you?” Ron asked through clenched teeth.
“Yes!” the gnome yelled eagerly. “Yes, yes, yes...
nooooooooooo!” it wailed as a manic glint appeared in Ron’s eyes. “Please! No! Have mercy!” it screamed as Ron let him loose and he went soaring through the air.
Feeling slightly better, Ron turned to find his next victim peering out from behind a tree. Stupid gnomes he thought as he headed towards it. They never learn. They come out to see what’s going on, and all of a sudden, they’re what’s going on. One would think that they’d have learned by now to stay put.
He quickened his step, stopping short when he heard a curse and a screech behind him, followed by the muffled thud of two things hitting each other. He whirled around to watch in horror as the gnome and an owl plummeted to the ground.
A/N: Anyone who can't wait to read Chapter Three and doesn't know it already, the chapter can be found posted at the end of Chapter One. Chapter Two will be removed and as soon as Three goes through I'll be posting them normally. Enjoy!