The Babysitting Adventures of Ronald Weasley

Author’s Note: This is my first fic since last July, so I’m a little raw. Please review because it will probably be the only thing to motivate me to write more, and therefore improving my writing skills. I realize that Harry, Ron, and Hermione are not exactly in character, and I do not care. I wanted to tweak them a bit to match my story. Yes, I’m a bitch. A bit. There is not too much H/Hr in the story yet…this is sort of an introduction chapter for what’s to come. I hope you can see that I incorporated a little bit of canon H/Hr with the reading minds bit. Also, I’m not British, so if there is any britpicker out there for my future chapters, feel free to email me or whatever. Oh, and also, I realize it’s not too long…but I’m sure you don’t mind much.

Disclaimer: All situations and characters belong to J.K. Rowling. And we’re done.

Never before had April brought such formidable weather at Hogwarts. Most students wished it gone, but others welcomed it. One, in particular – Harry Potter. To him, the weather matched his mood, and that brought him a sense of balance. It was one of the few things that were balanced these days in his world. Voldemort was still at large, N.E.W.T.s were in a few weeks and he still hadn’t started to study, and everywhere he went Peeves followed him in a constant state of annoyance.

Seventeen year old Harry Potter sighed in his large four-poster bed. He was absolutely clueless as of what to do with these problems he was having, the first one in particular. After stretching and yawning one last time, he got out of bed and put on his robe. As he was putting on his slippers, a hand rested itself on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry jumped.

“Blimey, Ron!” Harry shouted, panting. “What do you have to go and do that for?”

Ron’s freckles even seemed to turn red as his eyebrows furrowed in regret. “Sorry mate…I- I didn’t realize…”

Harry turned around in a huff and went down the stairs. He was sorry he had snapped at Ron, but there was no time to mull it over these days. There were more important things to be done. Tonight, he promised himself, he would start studying for the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. It was the least he could do. ‘I think Hermione might be starting to rub off on me’ Harry thought with a smirk that took him aback. Pausing, he realized it was the first amusing thought he had had for weeks.

After taking a mental break to let his temper cool down, Harry went back up the stairs, apologized to Ron, and got dressed for the day. There was no use in starting huge fights in times like these. Together they went to breakfast in the Great Hall where they saw Hermione already eating some porridge.

“Hey Hermione,” Harry said as he grabbed an apple and took a seat next to her.

“Oh, hello Harry,” Hermione replied distantly. She was deeply immersed in a thick book called Deadly Potions of the Middle East and Russia. Although the chances of these potions showing up on the final exam were slim, Hermione would take no chances whatsoever. Anything and everything must be studied over and over for her to be satisfied completely.

“Let’s not bother her, mate,” Ron retorted, “she might blow up any moment if we bother her precious study time.”

Hermione glared.

They ate in silence for a few minutes until the unmistakable sound of the swooping of owls became heard. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up to see if there was any mail coming their way today. Ron was slightly taken aback when Pigwidgeon crashed into a nearby plate of scrambled eggs. Rolling his eyes, he picked Pig up by the feathers on his wing and placed him in front of a plate.

Harry stiffened. Although it may be hard to believe, it was the first time all term that Harry had come close to Pigwidgeon. Pig always reminded him of Sirius and how he gave the tiny owl to Ron as sympathy present for taking his first pet away. Harry had somehow managed to avoid Pig’s rare stops to the Great Hall all year by sleeping in or having toast in the common room when he was feeling particularly down.

Ron didn’t seem to notice Harry’s sudden discomfort, however. He picked the letter up that was attached to Pig’s leg, opened it, and began to read silently.

Hermione, who realized why Harry suddenly had a long face, attempted to distract him, and looked up long enough from her book say, “So, I haven’t seen Hedwig in awhile, Harry.”

“Well, Lupin and the others have been busy with the Order, and Mrs. Weasley-”

“Mrs. Weasley has been too busy because she’s spending her time ruining MY LIFE!!” Ron interrupted with a sudden outburst of anger. “I can’t BELIEVE her!”

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. ‘What’s this all about?’ Harry asked Hermione without any words.

‘I have no idea’, was Hermione’s reply. ‘Let’s ask him.’

“Er-Ron?” Harry said cautiously, careful not to disrupt him any further, because it now seemed that Ron was steaming at the ears, “How is your mum ruining your life?”

It took Ron a few more moments before he could coherently answer. “Easter holiday. Next week. Our last one at Hogwarts. Time to break from studying. She-she-” Ron lost all rational thought and pounded the table, making the Yorkshire pudding fly off the table and land in Susan Bone’s hair at the nearby Hufflepuff table.

“Ron! Now, honestly! No matter what is wrong, that is no excuse to behave the way you’re acting!” Hermione said indignantly. “Now, get on with it!”

“She…she wants us to go to the Burrow for holiday.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Harry asked.

“There are 27 things wrong with that. Twenty-seven children to be exact. She wants us to baby-sit all of my 27 cousins when they come to visit the entire vacation.”

And with that, Ron fell back in his chair and fainted.

It was a few hours before Ron came to. When he did, in the hospital wing, Harry and Hermione were no where to be found.

“Harry?” Ron asked groggily. “Hermione? Where are you guys? Why am I in the hospital wing?”

Madam Pomfrey came into the room looking at Ron with her hawk eyes. “I see you’re up and about, Mr. Weasley. That was quite a nasty shock, you, just all of a sudden fainting during breakfast.”

Ron wrinkled his eyebrows. “Fainted? Why?”

Then it all came back to him. His mum wanted him, Harry, and Hermione to baby-sit his 27 bratty little cousins for a week.

“You’re a bit of a sissy, Mr. Weasley, if you ask me. It’s not healthy to go about fainting in the middle of breakfast. It sets a bad example for the first years.”

Ron was about to answer back nastily when Harry and Hermione come into the hospital wing.

“Ron! We were so worried! Are you okay?” Hermione said with a frightful look in her eye.

“No visitors!” Madame Pomfrey barked. “My patient needs rest. I also have to make sure that there is nothing else wrong with him, it’s not normal to just pass out over a trifle little letter.”

“Trifle?!” Ron bellowed, “Trifle?! I’d like to see YOU deal with TWENTY-SEVEN screaming kids EVERY DAY FOR A WEEK!”

Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow. “If you are not aware, Mr. Weasley, I have been dealing with more than 27 screaming children every day for the past thirty-three years. I happen to be a nurse.”

Ron blushed.

She continued. “I will allow visitors for 5 minutes, and 5 minutes ONLY. After that, Mr. Potter and Miss Granger, you will have to go back to class.”

Harry and Hermione sat down on the bed next to Ron’s.

“Listen guys, I am so sorry about this. I’ll write mum and tell her abso-freakin-lutely NOT.”

“Don’t be a git, Ron,” Harry said, a bit aggravated. “We’ll do it.”

“Harry’s right. It will be fun, you know. I’m sure we can manage.” Hermione added.

“I dunno…I mean, we’ve done a lot of things, but we have never done something so juvenile. Get it? Juvenile? Ha-ha.”

Hermione and Harry looked at each other and rolled their eyes, but they couldn’t help but laugh at Ron’s quirky sense of humor that seemed to come at the most random of times.

“I’m surprised you know what juvenile means, Ronald,” Hermione teased.

“Oh, it’s on!” Ron said in a pathetic attempt of an American accent that sounded rather like Elvis on weed.

They all laughed together, genuinely, for the first time in weeks. ‘This is what life is supposed to be like’ Harry thought. ‘Being together with my two best friends.”

Harry spacing out was obviously not a safe thing. The next thing he knew, he was whacked with a pillow, and then landed on the next bed over with Hermione, who was laughing hysterically.

It looked like things would be alright for all three of them, at least for now.

Author’s Note: Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter. I’m very sorry for the long wait on this chapter….but I must admit I have had no motivation because of the lack of reviews from the first chapter. I realize that these sorts of things take time, so I will continue writing this story anyway. However, you have no idea how much it would help me if you could just take a minute after you read my story to review. If you are an author, you know how difficult and disappointing it is to work on a story only to find that no one appreciates your work.

On a slightly less serious note, I’ve noticed that in some of your reviews, you are questioning why the title is only about a certain red-head and not the entire trio. I assure you that if you stick with this story, you will discover the answer. And now onto the story!

Chapter 2: Rabble of Red-heads

If Ron had been wise, he would have known to savour every last bit of his cousin-free week. However, being Ron, his days before the fateful Easter Break at the Burrow consisted of being in a constant state of grumpiness. The playful mood he had been in the day he was at the hospital wing had worn off as quickly as it had come. All Ron seemed to be doing nowadays was complain - about his cousins, about how he never had a break to himself, about how he would be on overload with N.E.W.T. preparation. And this was just in Transfiguration alone that Ron managed to share this information with Harry and Hermione.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she successfully attempted to transfigure the baby seal into a kitchen table. “Honestly, Ron,” Hermione began as the squealing animal became rigid and wooden, “You’ll be fine. In case you’ve forgotten, Harry and I are helping too, remember? And you know that I am going to help both of you with your N.E.W.T. studying. For goodness sake, I should be the one losing all rational thought these last few weeks before school ends. Yet I’m not.”

Both Ron and Harry were surprised. Every year, at least two months before the final exams, Hermione would draw out study-schedules for all three of them, allowing breaks only for meals. When Harry became the captain of the Quidditch team last year, Hermione almost persuaded Harry to cut practices to one night a week as the year drew to a close, in order to allow more time to hit the books. However, she knew how important Qudditch was to him, so she cut more precious study time from both his and Ron’s schedule. These weeks before exams were very tense, and you had to be extremely careful while approaching Hermione while studying. You might as well put a sign on her that said “Dangerous: Proceed with Caution”.

And now, all of a sudden, Hermione was very cool and collected about the whole thing. Harry figured that if anything, Hermione would be even more spastic about it then all the previous years at Hogwarts combined, considering it was the most important exam most of them would ever take.

“Yeah, Hermione, why is that?” Harry asked with innocent curiosity.

“No particular reason, I guess…” Hermione said in an off-tone. She didn’t quite meet his eye.

Ron interrupted. “Will you two get back to the subject, please? Tomorrow we have to go meet my cousins. All twenty-seven of them. And all ranging in age from just 3-10.” The mere thought of it was giving Ron a mild anxiety attack.

The bell rang that marked both the end of Transfiguration and the end of classes until Easter break was over. Most of the kids gave a shout of joy, except for Ron, who gave a shout of terror.

“Well, it’s official. This time tomorrow we will be in the clutch of the 27-headed monster.”

The next morning, Harry and Ron met Hermione down in the common room with their luggage all packed for the week ahead of them. Soon after, they found themselves on the train back to Platform 9 ¾. Harry thought it an odd experience.

“Isn’t this strange? Riding on the train, I mean? It just seems strange for us to be riding it this time of year. We usually only ride it in September and June.”

“Well, my first year I went back home on the train for Christmas.” Hermione replied. She sighed. “I wish I hadn’t. I wish I could have been there with you when you were looking into the Mirror of Erised all those nights…”

They were silent for a few moments. On the rare occasions that anything even loosely connected to Harry’s parents came up, it was never awkward. Instead, it was a moment to just sit in respect and memory. The little Harry knew about his parents he shared with Hermione. He passed on to her everything that Sirius, Dumbledore, Lupin, and Hagrid ever told him, and it became a special bond that only the two of them shared. Not even Ron knew these stories of Lily and James and their adventures at both Hogwarts and Godric`s Hollow.

At this particular moment on the train, Ron happened to be snoring, a sure sign that he would be out cold for the entirety of the train ride. Harry and Hermione jumped at the opportunity to talk about Lily and James.

“I wonder what they did on holidays.” Harry asked quietly. “Is that stupid? I mean, its a little detail. I wonder what they had for dinner, and if they had family over. Did they eat in the dining room? If we even had one?” Harry paused, then continued. “It’s stupid of me. I probably should be thinking of other things, like who they were and what they did for a living.”

“No, not at all. I think it’s the little things that count. Do you think I’m friends with you because of your evil lord-vanquishing abilities?” Hermione smirked.

Within a split second the mood had turned from bittersweet to light and fun. Soon the pair of them was talking loud and animatedly, and to their great surprise, Ron even woke up to join the fun.

“Oh, what a disappointment,” Harry kidded. “And to think I was actually looking forward to a Ron-free journey. Silly me.”

“Ha bloody ha ha, Harry.” Ron said with a cold tone that didn’t quite match his eyes that were dancing with laughter. “See how cocky you are this time next week, eh? Once your clothes are ripped to shreds by the manic Weasley cousins.”

When the train arrived in the station, Harry, Ron, and Hermione disembarked and looked around for Mrs. Weasley. Soon they found her plump figure and pleasant face in the midst of the crowd, waving enthusiastically and beaming at all three of them.

“Oh, I’m so glad you could make it!” Mrs. Weasley enthused as she made her way over to them in order to help with bags. She took a look closer at Ron and squinted her eyes. “Ronald? Is everything all right dear?”

“Yes, mum,” Ron said with a smile, although it was obviously fake and very forced.

“You look a bit, well…constipated, dear. How about when we get home I’ll get-”

“MUM!” Ron shouted, his ears bright red now, as Harry and Hermione cackled in the background. “I’m FINE! Let’s just get this bloody ordeal over with!”

“I don’t like your tone, Ronald Billius Weasley. You better get rid of that temper before we get back to the house. Your cousins are waiting for you and your friends and I daresay they wouldn’t be very happy if they had to be in the company of a tetchy older cousin.”

Ron grew pale. “They’re already there? But, mum! I thought they weren’t coming till tomorrow!”

“Well, you thought wrong, dear. Now come along.”

Harry and Hermione exchanged amused looks before they followed Mrs. Weasley to the car.

Harry and Hermione had expected the Weasley kids to be a little bit rowdy, but nothing prepared them for the sight they saw when they first arrived at the Burrow. Arthur was trying rather pathetically to round the children up, all 27 of them, who were all running around screaming, fighting, and basically wreaking havoc upon the house.

“JAMIE!!! GIVE ME BACK MY TOY CAULDRON RIGHT NOW!!!” screamed a small girl about 6 years old with short red pigtails and a nose sprinkled with freckles.

A boy with the toy cauldron box on his head and the actual cauldron in his hand, a boy Harry took to be as Jamie, stuck his tongue out at the girl and ran away.

The girl screamed like there was no tomorrow.

Ron just stood there, lost for words, apparently in shock, and also giving Harry and Hermione a glance that said ‘I told you so.’

At that moment Mrs. Weasley screamed at the top of her lungs. “EVERYONE OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW! FORM A SINGLE FILE LINE! QUIET NOW, CHILDREN!”

Harry stared in amazement as all twenty-seven kids abruptly formed a single file line and trampled outside into the backyard without saying a word. He, Hermione, and Ron followed.

“Now,” Mrs. Weasley began to say to the children. “Ron and his friends Harry and Hermione will be taking care of you for the week. I’m sure they’ll think of plenty of fun things to do and you’ll all have great fun.”

At this particular comment Ron snorted loudly. Hermione elbowed him.

Mrs. Weasley turned to Harry and Hermione. “I would you two to meet Sarah, Abigail, Christopher, Jamie, Erica, David, Victoria, Natalie, Corrance, Daniela, Emily, Charlotte, Matthew, Samantha, Peony, Prudence, William, Peter, Benjamin, Clancy, Alan, Kirsten, Josephine, Douglas, Cody, Margaret, and Ember Weasley.”

Harry was awestruck by seeing so many red-headed children at once. By looking at Hermione he could tell she was thinking that this was going to be a long week. And he agreed.

Thanks to all who have reviewed the last chapter. I absolutely thrive on reviews and they are what keep me motivated to write more. I know that excuses really, in fact, are no excuse at all for chapters at, in this case, 10 day intervals. However, I HAVE been meaning to update. I have been really busy with dance, and I have also been very sick and not up to writing at all. I only write when I feel like it, not because I don’t think I have an obligation to my readers, but because otherwise I wouldn’t be putting my best quality out there, and no one would be pleased with that. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

Oh, and a special thank you to Chico/Jen for just being Jen.

Chapter 3: Crisis #1

Harry awoke the next morning to Ron jumping on him, loudly proclaiming that it was Easter.

“Like I don’t already bloody know that,” Harry groaned as he rubbed his eyes and fumbled around for his glasses. “Aren’t we up a little early?”

“After breakfast and Easter baskets, we get to begin our glorious job of babysitting the little tikes, mate,” Ron explained. “Luckily we won’t have to deal with the rascals during breakfast. They are already up, screaming and running about in the yard.”

“Lovely. Is Hermione up yet?”

“Er, I’m not sure. You know Hermione, always the one who attempts to wake us up on weekends until we actually give in. I’ll go check on her.”

“No, I’ll go,” Harry said as he pulled his shirt over his head. “You’re not even dressed yet.” He didn’t notice Ron’s slight frown as he left the room. Ron and Hermione had dated very briefly the previous year, but it was a very impassionate relationship. It was almost as if it was a requirement for them to at least give it a go, but they were broken up within months and all had a nice laugh over it when Ron and Hermione decided to break their vow of silence towards each other. Harry recalled how he had to comfort Hermione. Since Ron had banished himself to the library in the weeks after the breakup, and Harry couldn’t exactly get to the girls dormitories, Hermione had gone up to Harry’s dorm and had a good cry every night for a week.

“It’s not the actual fact that we broke up that is devastating,” Hermione had said, red-eyed and stuffy nosed. “I’m not sure I felt anything else than platonic feeling for him. It’s just that I’m not sure we can ever go back to being best friends. She had laid down on Harry’s pillow, taking in its musky scent, and she relaxed slightly.

Harry had wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair. “It will be alright,” Harry appeased as his shirt got drenched from Hermione’s frantic tears. “Soon it will be like it never happened, trust me. Until then, well…I’m not going anywhere.”

“Do you mean that?” Hermione had asked, lifting her head from Harry’s shoulder. “I mean, you’re not going to hang out with Ron the entire time, like in third year?”

Harry was taken aback when Hermione said this. He supposed that he had always seemed to favor Ron a bit, but that was simply because he was a male who could share the pains of confusing girls and dreadful grades. But now that he thought about it, there was tons more that he felt comfortable sharing with Hermione rather than Ron. For instance, his parents. Sirius. And that was only scratching the surface.

He had been so ashamed that Hermione would ever think he would abandon her now, though. Back then he was a thirteen-year-old boy, and now he was a mature young man. They had been through quite a lot together in those three years from third year to sixth, even more so than they had their first three years of Hogwarts.

As Harry was pondering all these moments of the past, he slammed right into Ginny’s door. “Damn!” His forehead was throbbing.

“Harry?” Hermione called out. “Is that you? Are you alright?”

“Yes, to all questions. I seemed to have been on the losing side of a wrestling match with the door, though. Can I come in?”

“I’m not decent yet,” Hermione replied. “Just a minute.”

“Makes no difference,” Harry joked. “I would quite like to see that.”

A few moments later Hermione opened the door. She seemed to have ignored his comment and immediately pulled him into the room. Checking his head, she tutted. “You might get a bruise. Oh, look at that bump! It will be sure to swell to the size of an egg. Let me get you some ice.” She disapparated and returned a moment later with an ice bag. Without delay, Hermione ushered Harry to her bed, urging him to lie down and put the bag on his head.

Harry gave Hermione a goofy grin. “You take such good care of me.”

“Nonsense.” But she was smiling.

After breakfast and Easter baskets, it was time for the thing that Ron, and after the meeting the previous day with the 27 children, Harry and Hermione, were dreading. They had no plans to keep the children entertained. Up until now it had seemed a trifle problem, and they assumed that for the most part the children would simply entertain themselves as the teenagers watched from close by, only to interfere every now and then when a scraped knee or a fight over the toy broomstick was an issue. But they now knew that these children were high-maintenance creatures that demanded attention.

The night before, Ron and Mrs. Weasley had had a rather brutal row. Ron mumbled the question of why Ginny couldn’t get her lazy arse out of school to come help them. Even though he hadn’t meant for his mum to hear it, she got red in the face and replied that Ginny was hard at work on a project at school and couldn’t be disturbed.

“Yeah, right,” Ron had retorted. “Project. And I am the one back-up- dancer for the Weird Sisters with the leather pants.”

It had been the start of a long winded argument. Harry and Hermione were tired, went upstairs, and chatted for a long time about nothing in particular to drown out the sounds of the dispute taking place below them.

“Who do you think will win this argument?” Hermione had asked as they heard Ron bellow out some words that weren’t suitable for children’s ears.

They had looked at each other for a moment and then said the same thing at once.

“Undoubtedly Mrs. Weasley.” Then they burst out in laughter.

But today things were different. Although babysitting was not exactly a serious situation, it was also not a time for laughter when there were 27 kids at hand. Mrs. Weasley had left Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the backyard with every last one of them, staring up at the teenagers with a mixture of awe, mischief, curiosity, and bewilderment. The trio stared right back. Ron was the first one to speak up.

“Ahem, er…”

The kids looked at him expectantly.

“Well!” Ron continued with a fake cheery smile. “So I guess this is our first day together. Er… just play in the backyard I guess and we’ll watch you….er…unless you want us…to…play with you?”

At that particular moment, the ground shook. Birds in the bushes and trees gave frightened squawks as they flew away in a hurry as leaves blew from the rush of wind. Harry thought for one wild moment that there was an earthquake, but then he realized that the kids had started to run around and cause havoc in the yard. He gave a desperate look at Ron, trying to silently say ‘What shall we do?’ But Ron obviously didn’t understand. He then looked at Hermione with the same desperate glance, and she looked back with a glance that said ‘I have no idea.”

Harry was ready to share more painful looks with Hermione, but he suddenly felt a small hand tugging at his own. Before he had a chance to look around and see who it was, he was suddenly yanked off in the other direction by the anonymous hand. They stopped just under a large tree that was quite far off from everything else. Harry finally traced the hand and found out that it had an arm and other body parts as well.

The girl who had sped off with him was very petite with auburn hair and huge eyes that seemed to take up a larger than normal proportion of her face. Her beautiful, softly curled hair was swept up into two pigtails, and she was wearing overall shorts that seemed just a tad too big for her diminutive body.

Immediately Harry was in awe of this little girl standing in front of him. Just by looking at her, he could tell she was a very unique child who wasn’t like the others. He bent down so he could talk to her eye-level.

“Hello, my name is Harry Potter. Who are you?”

“Emily.” Her voice was barely audible.

“Hi Emily, how old are you?”

“7 and a half.” She smiled shyly. “Would you like to play exploding snap?”

“I sure would!” Harry grinned. He could get used to this babysitting thing.

Emily got the cards out of her pocket and began to take them out of the box while Harry glanced around to see how everyone else was doing. Most of the kids were playing a giant game of tag, but it was obvious that there was only one person who was attempting to tag – Ron. He was not nearly as fast as the children, so his efforts were pretty much useless. About six of the kids were playing games of Wizard Chess. Hermione was over by the fence with a few of the slightly tamer and younger kids reading books.

She looked up for a minute and saw Harry staring at her. She gave him a smile and a little wink.

Harry laughed and winked back, giving her a glance that said ‘Reading, eh? You’re specialty.’

Hermione gave a look back that said ‘Lucky me’.

At this point, Emily was done setting up for their game and noticed that Harry was distracted. She followed his gaze and her eyes rested upon Hermione, who was looking straight back at Harry.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Emily asked Harry innocently.

“Girlfriend?” Harry said, suddenly brought back to reality and remembering he had a game to play with Emily. “Oh, no, that over there is Hermione, and we are best friends, nothing more. What makes you think that?”

Emily smirked knowingly. “You were awfully quick with your answer. Besides, I saw the way you two were staring at each other. They were looks of love.” She giggled.

Harry’s mouth was open. There had been people in the past that had mistaken Harry and Hermione’s friendship for something more, but never a small child who knew nothing about them whatsoever. He searched for an explanation. “That’s because Hermione and I have sort of a telepathic connection. Well, not really, but we- I mean, we can always tell what the other is thinking and-”

“You don’t need to explain to me. Besides, reading minds isn’t about giving each other lovey-dovey looks,” Emily interrupted.

Harry tried to think of a comeback but came up short. He just gave Emily a goofy grin and playfully ruffled her hair. “You’re too smart for your own good, do you know that?”

Just when Harry thought that they were going to have a calm, quiet babysitting job, a scream erupted in the air from the garden. He grabbed Emily’s hand and headed in that direction. When he got there, 6 or 7 kids were gathered round one child, who Harry later found out to be Christopher. He was yet another red-head and about 4 years old, with an abundance of freckles on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. However, he was not playing around and causing general mayhem like the others. He seemed to be… choking on something.

Hermione and Ron came rushing up as Harry frantically questioned the other kids as to what was going on.

“That silly Christopher! He is such a little git! He’s choking!” shrieked Abigail.

“Yes, we know that, Abby, but on what?” Ron asked, panicking.

“A gnome,” she said simply.

“WHAT?!?!” screamed Harry and Ron, but Hermione kept her head. She pulled Christopher upright and began to perform the Heimlich maneuver. The other kids, who were rarely exposed to muggle health, began to shriek, thinking that Hermione was attacking Christopher. Just as the gnome popped out of Christopher’s mouth, screaming something about going to less occupied gardens, the kids began attacking Hermione until she was down on the ground, helpless with an army of kids jumping all over her.

Ron and Harry were wide-eyed. They hastily attempted to grab the kids off of her, but there was no giving in. Soon the backyard turned into one giant war, and it continued for the rest of the afternoon.

Thank you so much to all who have reviewed the previous chapter. I hope this isn’t too long of a wait for you…well, I’m still pretty bad about this. I’m trying to get better, but it’s hard. You know how it is…you have all day to sit around, and you just mope around the house all day doing nothing….yet you are in no mood to write. However, at the most inconvenient time, the urge comes on, and you just have to sit down and get some words down onto the computer. I sure hope this is worth the wait.

There is a reference to the show “Newlyweds” in this chapter…I saw it and I couldn’t help but think it was a great idea for my fic. Try guessing what it is.

There is a bit more of Harry/Hermione interaction in this chapter, although not too much about the kids. But don’t worry; they will raise hell in upcoming chapters. :>

Chapter 4: Sometimes You Need a Break

By the time evening rolled around on Easter, Harry was completely exhausted. Never before had he been so physically strained - not even Quidditch practice brought on the kinds of aches he had in his muscles. However, Mrs. Weasley made it up to him, Ron, and Hermione by cooking a magnificent dinner complete with five courses. The three of them got to get away from the children for awhile and settle down in peace and quiet…or so they thought. It turned out that the three teenagers could cause as much catastrophe as 27 children.

“Pass the mustard, will you Hermione?”

“Honestly, Ron, it’s right next to you. What are you going to do when you start to live on your own, and, heaven forbid, there is no one to pass you the condiments that you stuff into your mouth?”

“Oh Merlin, I was just asking for the mustard. Pardon me for asking a favor.”

“Well, next time you have-”

“Enough!” Harry half-shouted. “It’s bad enough to have to listen to 27 screaming children during the day, but you get on a whole new level of my nerves when you start bickering about something pointless. You know what, actually?” Harry quickly ate the last few bites of his food. “Feel free to do whatever you bloody want. I’m off.” And with that, Harry vacated the room and went upstairs to Ron’s bright orange mess of a living space.

Ron was spooning mouthfuls of soup into his mouth, and then noticed that Hermione was looking at him with a disgusted look on her face. “What? He always gets annoyed when we fight,” he said in what he attempted to be a reassuring tone. “Although…now that I think about it, his tolerance usually lasts for at least another twenty seconds or so. But really, I think he’s just peeved at us.

“No, Ron, something else is definitely wrong with him.”

“How can you tell?” Ron asked. He was still busy filling his stomach.

“I just can…” Hermione was suddenly distant as her eyes left their focus.

Harry was in Ron’s room, curled up with one of his carrot-colored pillows. Something about the day he had had reminded him of his parents, and it gave him a bittersweet feeling. He definitely was not in the mood for Ron’s and Hermione’s immature arguments – all he wanted to do right now was lay down and clear his mind of every thought that lurked across it. Right at the moment he thought he might’ve achieved that goal, there was a knock on the door. Whoever it was didn’t bother for a reply from Harry and they came right in and sat next to him on the bed.

Harry couldn’t and didn’t want to see whoever it was - he was quite content with simply laying there, nearly suffocating as his head was buried in the pillow. A warm hand that grasped his own told him that the intruder was Hermione.

“Go away,” he said gruffly.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” was Hermione’s reply.

“What’s wrong is that I can never get a moment’s peace, even in privacy with my own friends, because all they seem to want to do is destroy their friendship.”

“I know that’s not what’s bothering you, Harry. You should know by now that there is no fooling me, at least when it comes to you. Tell me what’s really wrong.”

“Here’s an idea – why don’t you go bother somebody else?”

“Come on, Harry, we tell each other everything. How is this any different?”

“Well, maybe that’s not such a good idea. I don’t like you badgering me about it day and night. Good-bye.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and left the room. Although slightly hurt by his comment, she knew he meant nothing of it, and he would come to her in his own time to discuss whatever it was that was on his mind.

As soon as Hermione left the room, Harry regretted his words. He wanted to run after her but knew that he was not ready. First, he had to do something.

He found himself down in the kitchens, where Mrs. Weasley was just finishing directing all the pots and pans to magically wash themselves.

“Hello, Harry dear!” Mrs. Weasley gushed. “Is there something wrong?”

“No…well, yes. I was hoping you could give me some information.”

“Information, dear? What kind of information?”

“The, err, parental kind.”

Mrs. Weasley looked at him with wide-eyes. “Surely you don’t mean…Harry, I thought that you were responsible, I-I”

“No, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, a bit embarrassed and shocked that she had jumped to such an alarming conclusion. “It’s not that. It’s just…I know you didn’t know my parents very well, but, well, they were in the Order, and, you know, I was wondering if you know anything about them.”

Mrs. Weasley was quiet for a moment. Then - “I didn’t know a lot about your parents. But I do remember one thing.”

Harry looked at her expectantly.

“Have a seat.” She sat down herself at the table and patted the seat next to her. Harry sat.

“I remember it was the Christmas before you were born, Harry,” Molly began, with a misty look in her eye. “Dumbledore had called all of us to Hogwarts for a special feast. Since there was not a single student staying for Christmas that year, he felt it would be rather lonely, so he invited us Weasleys, the Potters, Sirius, Remus, Peter Pettigrew, and a few others I can’t remember. Lily didn’t know she was pregnant with you yet, and she and James were sitting on a couch in the Great Hall…they were snuggled up together, and I remembered I had never before seen two people so comfortable with each other, so completely relaxed and in love. Anyways, they were glancing up at a moving portrait on the wall… it was very abstract one at that.”

As Molly told Harry the story, Harry became lost in imagining what the moment had been like…

***

“What do you see when you look at that painting, darling?” Lily said to James dreamily.

“A candle that’s down to it’s last bit of wax, yet it’s striving to keep burning. And then there is the wind that’s working against it…but it still keeps on going strong.”

“That’s exactly what I see!” Lily exclaimed.

“That’s because-” James made a motion with his middle an index finger, pointed to his eyes, and them pointed them back at Lily’s eyes, as to indicate that they had a extrasensory connection. Then he winked.

Lily giggled. “Yes, we are becoming one twisted soul, aren’t we?”

“Completely, gorgeous,” James agreed as he began to tickle Lily. It was the start of a wild and silly fight.

The end of Mrs. Weasley`s short but sweet story brought Harry back down to earth. Her recollection of the incident was almost as real and present to Harry as looking through the Pensive. He was silent.

Molly looked at him with a sad expression. “I shouldn’t have told you that. I’m sorry dear.”

“I’m not. Thanks, Mrs. Weasley.” Harry gave her a smile and walked out of the kitchen.

He felt much better after his talk with Molly. True, it had made that bittersweet feeling in the pit of his stomach even stronger than before, but at least now he had a specific memory of his parents to linger on that was actually not of them loathing each other.

Hagrid, Dumbledore, and countless other people always told Harry that he was the spitting image of James, but with Lily’s eyes. He knew James was a troublemaker, and Lily was smart, but aside from those few facts, he had little to hold on to. The Pensive memory from 5^th year that involved a certain hook-nosed, greasy-haired Professor and his gray wooly knickers was not exactly what Harry wanted to remember his father or mother by.

This new memory of his parents was fresh, meaningful, and truly a reflection of the beauty of their relationship. It gave him a lot of comfort, and by the pure thought of Lily and James he felt safe.

Newly energized, Harry walked to Ginny’s room in order to apologize to Hermione. He heard music from her room. Thinking that she was just listening to some tunes while catching up on an essay for school, he opened the door a tiny crack – and what he saw made him drop his jaw in amazement.

Hermione was positively twirling around the room in glee listening to a fast song on the radio. Her hair was flying around in a frenzy and there was a beautiful smile plastered on her face. Her eyes were closed and she was looking upwards. It was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen.

“And that was ‘Quidditch Ain`t Got Nothing on You’ by the Weird Sisters. This is Jennifer Shore at Wizard Wireless Network. Stay tuned for more of your musical pleasure, right after these messages.”

Hermione calmed down and noticed that Harry was standing in the doorway, staring at her.

“What are you looking at?” she asked in a mock accusatory tone.

Harry was lost for words. “I just – I – I…”

“What, do you think that a bookworm like me can’t let loose once in awhile?”

“I, no, I mean…jeez, Hermione…I never knew you did that.”

“I don’t…when I’m around others. I like to do it when I’m alone and frustrated,” Hermione replied.

“But whenever you study with Ron and me you practically explode when anyone so much as sneezes!” Harry retorted.

“Yes, well, Dennis Creevy and his friends tend to get on my nerves. The Weird Sisters, not so much. What’s with the goofy grin on your face?”

Harry laughed, and then remembered why he had come here in the first place. “Look, Hermione, I don’t mean to change the subject, but I came here to apologize for my rude attitude before. It was wrong for me to say those things and I didn’t mean them – I actually do like it when you badger me day and night, no matter how hard I try not to.”

Hermione giggled. “I understand. But, really, Harry. Don’t ever hesitate to come to me when you have a problem.”

“I don’t. It’s just that sometimes I need to mull things over on my own for a bit. Today, for example. Something about taking care of those kids today reminded me of my parents, but it made me feel different than I had before while thinking of them. I wasn’t exactly sad, but I wasn’t happy either. It was just one of those moments where I needed to be alone…and not think.”

Hermione rubbed his back in concern. “What about now? Are you still feeling the same way?”

“Yes…but in a good way. It’s too odd to explain. Let’s just do something fun.”

“Excuse me, but I was in the middle of working on an essay,” Hermione declared.

“Hmm…it sure didn’t look like it when I walked in here.”

“Oh, bugger off.” Hermione walked away, but she had a smirk on her face.

Harry followed her. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“To study.”

“Erg, definitely not. I was thinking more along the lines of… going down to the kitchens and seeing if Mrs. Weasley has made the pie yet?”

“Oh?” inquired Hermione. “What kind of pie?”

“Pumpkin.”

Hermione smiled. “Race ya.”