The nine of them turned as one towards the door, managing to get to and out of it without bumping into anyone; when the Weasleys went out all together, it was best to get out of their way. They passed through the door which expanded to let them all out and then they were out in the glaring sun, standing in Diagon Alley.
“Where are we going?” Ron asked, matching stride with his mother.
“Flourish and Blotts for books; the Apothecary for Potion supplies and such; then the medi-witch for Charlie. And of course, Ollivander’s for you and Charlie.”
“Why for Charlie?” Percy asked.
“Well, if Ron can use Charlie’s, he’ll need a new wand. And if Ron can’t, he’ll need one, won’t he?”
“We’re not going to Gringotts?” Ron asked hopefully.
“I don’t know yet. We can certainly start without going in, but we might have to. We’ll see how things look as the day goes on.”
Ron withheld a groan; he loathed going to Gringotts, the Wizarding Bank. The bank was traditionally run by goblins, but there were a few wizards on the staff of each branch. There were very few who worked in the building proper; most worked outside of it, a large part of them treasure-finders and curse-breakers, like Bill.
But goblins were not the reason that Ron hated going there (although they did come in at a close second). What Ron hated most was the way they moved through and past the vaults. Since the bank held thousands of vaults, it went nearly as many feet underground. The only way to a vault was in one of the carts that ran on a track. Once, when Bill had gone to America on vacation, he had gone on a Muggle contraption called a roller-coaster, which worked much the same way. Except that where a roller-coaster went every-which way (including upside down) the Gringotts’ carts went in one direction at break-neck speed. He didn’t know how Bill managed working there every single day, even if it meant living in Egypt.
Ron shivered at the thought. While some people enjoyed going faster than the speed of sound, he didn’t. The very idea nearly made him sick and more often than not, he ended up throwing up either while they were going down to the family vault, or shortly after climbing out of the cart.
“Are we going anywhere else?” he asked.
“Yes....”
“Where?” he asked eagerly.
“It’s a surprise,” she answered.
Ron bit back a groan and jogged up to his father. “Where are we going?” he asked.
“The usual places,” his father answered absently.
“I know that,” Ron said. “Anywhere special?”
Mr. Weasley looked over his shoulder, and seeing that she was in deep conversation with Ginny and Percy, leaned closer to Ron and whispered, “Eyelop’s Owl Emporium.”
Ron tried not to get excited. “Why?” he whispered back.
“To get Percy an owl,” came the murmured answer with a smile.
Ron didn’t know how, but somehow, he managed not to cry at the injustice of it. He was getting old books, Percy’s robes, Percy’s rat and was likely to end up with Charlie’s wand. Wasn’t he going to get anything new?
“Why?” he asked again, forcing away the sinking feeling that had suddenly come over him.
“Because he’s a prefect.”
“So? Bill was Head Boy and you didn’t get him anything.”
His father blushed. “That’s not the point,” he mumbled.
“You know what else?” Ron continued, starting to get angry at how unfair this was. “Even if Bill hadn’t been Head Boy, or you had gotten him something...you still shouldn’t get Percy an owl. It’s not like he has any friends to write to anyway.”
“That’s not either the point�“”
“Stop!” Mrs. Weasley commanded, calling them all to a halt outside Eyelop’s.
“Why are we stopping here?” Charlie asked, balancing carefully on his uninjured leg.
“We’re getting Percy an owl,” she answered, her face lighting up.
Six mouths, including Percy’s, fell open. Ron was the only one not surprised and he scowled.
“What for?” George asked, recovering first.
“For being made prefect.”
“Mum, I was Head Boy and I didn’t get anything. Why should he get something for being a prefect?” Bill asked, and Ron couldn’t help but give his father a look that said I told you so.
Mrs. Weasley’s smile dimmed considerably and what was left of it looked strained. “We are going to go inside and get Percy an owl. Because that is what I want to do,” she added as Fred opened his mouth to protest.
“Mum, it’s okay,” Percy said, clearly uncomfortable. “I don’t need an owl...who would I write to?” he asked, and Ron shot another look at his father, who blushed and looked down at his shoes.
“No,” their mother said, “you deserve it and you’re going to get it. Come on,” she said, grabbing Ginny by one hand and dragging her into the Emporium, Percy and their father following helplessly. Percy threw a guilty look over his shoulder at them.
“You’d think he’d be happy, at least,” Fred grumbled.
“Nah,” Ron said, “he’s not that much of a prat. Mind you, by the time he walks out, there’ll be a smile the size of a galleon on his face.” The brothers nodded and Ron moved to join Bill and Charlie on the bench outside of the shop. He smiled suddenly. “But you’ve gotta give him credit for at least walking in unhappy.”
Charlie laughed. “Yeah. It must’ve killed him.”
The five fell silent, Fred and George leaning against the storefront, all lost in their own thoughts. Ron was about to fall asleep out of boredom when, out of nowhere, a voice came shouting over the noisy hustle and bustle of the other shoppers: “Fred! George! Fred!”
“Lee?” George said, stretching to see over the heads of the moving throng.
“Over here!” the voice yelled as its owner came into sight. A black boy, who looked to be the twins’ age, with a mass of dread-locks where his hair ought to be, pushed through the crowd and came running over to them, a huge grin plastered on his face.
“Long time no see!” he exclaimed, and then saw the rest of them. “And they are?”
“Charlie,” Fred said, pointing. “Captain of his year’s Quidditch team. He works with dragons in Romania.”
“Cool!” Lee said, shaking Charlie’s hand. “I’ve heard of you. Wood says you could have played for England.”
Charlie gave him a wicked grin. “Ever flown a dragon?”
“No,” Lee said, a wary expression on his face.
Charlie sighed wistfully. “Well, you’d understand if you would ‘ave. You’d never want to get on a broom again.”
“This is Bill,” Fred said, continuing the introductions. “Head Boy.”
Lee had started to put his hand out, but slowly drew it back. “Is he anything like Percy?” Ron heard him mutter from the corner of his mouth.
Fred laughed. “Nothing like Percy. Don’t you know? Perce is the black sheep in the family; no one is like him. No one likes him for that matter, either,” he added with a smirk.
“What do you do?” Lee asked, putting his hand out once again.
“I’m a treasure-hunter and curse-breaker for the Gringotts branch in Egypt,” Bill answered.
“Wicked!” Lee said, putting quite some feeling into it. “Whose this?” he asked, nodding at Ron.
“Ron,” Fred said blandly. “First year.”
“Oh,” Lee said, sounding disappointed. He didn’t put his hand out and Ron scowled at him. “Guess what?” Lee said, his face lighting up suddenly as he rubbed his hands together eagerly.
“What?” the twins asked together.
“I’ve received a letter from McGonagall,” he said proudly.
The twins’ faces fell a bit.
“So?” Fred asked. “It’s not your first.”
“And it won’t be your last. What’s the big deal?” George asked.
“McGonagall’s made me the new Quidditch Commentator!”
“Wicked!” the twins echoed one another.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Lee said, bowing pompously as the twins burst into laughter. Lee rose from the bow. “I’ve got to go now; me Mum’s waiting.” He started down the road, turning suddenly. “See you on the train!” he called, walking backwards. “If they don’t kick you out first!”
“They don’t have the nerve!” Fred called back, laughing.
Lee stopped, a thoughtful look on his face. “You’re probably right!” he yelled before he whirled around with a last laugh and disappeared. Just a few minutes later, Percy emerged from Eyelop’s, a caged tawny owl held in front of him. Charlie hopped over to him as their parents emerged with Ginny.
“What are you going to name him?” Charlie asked his fingers already through the bars, petting the owl.
“Hermes,” Percy said proudly.
“Perfect,” Charlie said as he stroked the owl’s head. He looked positively gleeful.
“It’s amazing,” Ron muttered to Bill as they moved down the street. He pointed at Charlie, who was already giving Percy tops on correct owl care. “You put an animal in front of him and he turns two all over again. He’s like the gentle giant or something.”
“I know,” Bill whispered back in quiet amazement.
Some time later, they finally finished all their shopping; even Charlie’s leg had been healed. There was only one thing left to take care of: the wand.
“Will it do?” Mrs. Weasley asked nervously.
“May I see it?” Mr. Ollivander asked, extending a gnarled hand.
Ron shrugged, digging into his pockets and pulling out the battered wand, desperately trying to hide the unicorn hair that was poking out of it and feeling stupider than he ever had in his life. Why hadn’t Charlie taken better care of it?
“Good. Good. Is it in your wand hand?” Mr. Ollivander asked. “Good. Good,” he said again as Ron nodded. Mr. Ollivander stared at him expectantly.
“Now what?” Ron asked, the feeling of stupidity growing.
“Just give a wave, or a flick,” came the answer. “Be natural.”
Now feeling even stupider, Ron raised his arm and brought the wand down. Nothing happened. Without being told, he flicked it again. Still nothing.
Mr. Ollivander peered at him over his glasses. “Are you sure that it worked before?”
“Very,” Ron answered, painfully remembering the sparks shooting into his face.
“Ron?” Charlie said, moving closer.
“Yeah?”
“Switch hands.”
“But I’m a righty This is my wand hand!”
“You may be a righty, but you were holding it in your left hand when we were in the forest.”
“I was?” Ron asked, trying to remember.
“Yeah.”
“But�“”
“Just switch it. Can’t hurt.’”
Ron looked at Mr. Ollivander who looked back, his expression unchanging. Shrugging, Ron switched hands. Immediately, he felt the familiar warmth flood his arm. Ron raised his arm again and brought it down in a sweeping blow. Stars and sparks came shooting out of it and both Mr. Ollivander and Charlie stepped back so they wouldn’t be hit.
Ron stared at Mr. Ollivander, confused. Mr. Ollivander looked surprised.
“But�“” Ron said, starting to protest.
“Have you always been right-handed?” Mr. Ollivander asked sternly.
“Yes,” Ron answered.
“All your life?”
What, does he think I’m stupid? Ron thought, nodding again.
Mr. Ollivander dismissed the matter with a wave of his hand. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. Just make sure you always use your left hand from now on. For magic and everything else. Understand?”
Ron nodded again.
“Good,” Mr. Ollivander said, as though that put an end to the conversation. He turned to Mrs. Weasley. “The wand will do for him. I take it that this young man will need a wand now?” he added, nodding at Charlie.
“Yes,” she answered. “But I’ll leave him here to do it on his own. The rest of us must be getting home.” She bent to start handing out the packages that were resting on the floor.
“Thank you for your help,” she said and with one last wave, she led the family our of Ollivander’s: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
“Ron, did you put your things away yet?” Mrs. Weasley called up to the attic.
“Not yet!” he yelled back.
“What are you waiting for?”
“A place to put all of it!” he shouted.
“You have an expandable cauldron, don’t you? Use it!”
Groaning, Ron rose from his bed and shuffled over to the closet. Yawning, he bent down and placed the heavy cauldron inside of it. With another yawn, he started transferring all of his supplies into it. After he had placed the last Potions beaker inside, he closed the closet door, falling back onto his bed. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Only two week till school he thought, nervous. I can’t believe I’m finally going to Hogwarts.
He rolled over onto his stomach, resting his head in his folded arms. He opened one eye to see Scabbers asleep on the dresser.
Stretching over, he cupped the sleeping rat in one hand, placing Scabbers on the pillow next to his head. “Just curious mate,” he said with yet another yawn, “why is it that you don’t do anything but sleep?”
Scabbers didn’t answer, but Ron hadn’t really been expecting him to. But he did wake up long enough to move closer to Ron’s head, curl up and then fall back asleep.
“All you ever do is slee...eee...eeep,” Ron said with a huge yawn. “Then again,” he said, trying and failing to stop another one, “sleep sounds really good right now.”
Scabbers squeaked and Ron smiled. Curling up, Ron closed his eyes, and still smiling, fell into a dream-filled sleep.
A/N: Sorry I've been so long in updating; been a bit busy with my other fic. Thanks to all the god-like reviewers! (Hint hint. Wink wink.)
A/N2: You guys are truly god-like! I love you all for your beautiful reviews and your dedication to this fic. While my other fic has more reads for the first chapter, this has nearly as many (if not more) for the second and so on. I could cry; you make my day! I am now going to go through every reviewer's fic to reveiw! Thank you so much! Actually, so that I don't have to go through the author's page to see if you even have a fic I can review, how's this: If you'd like me to review your fic, either post the link or contact me with it or the title of your fic and I'll leave a review! Thanks!