The Beginning of The End

Chapter Two
The Greatest Weasley Prank
On the day before HarryÂ’s birthday, Mrs. Weasley came into the kitchen, her face beaming at Harry. "I know what today is," she sing-songed.

Harry and Ron glanced at one another over their game of Exploding Snap. Both heads turned simultaneously towards Mrs. Weasley who threw a happy smile over her shoulder at Harry. "SomeoneÂ’s turning seventeen!" she sang.

Ron rolled his eyes. "YouÂ’ve got the wrong day, Mum. HarryÂ’s birthday is tomorrow."

Mrs. Weasley gave Ron a look of her own. "Well, I know that, silly. But today is the day before his birthday! And you know what that means?"

Harry and Ron exchanged another quizzical glance. "What, then?" Ron demanded.

"ItÂ’s preparation day! Harry, weÂ’ll need to sit down and talk about exactly how you want to spend your day, what youÂ’d like to have for dinner, what kind of cake, who youÂ’d like to invite, that sort of thing."

Harry sat up, suddenly uncomfortable. "Mrs. Weasley, you donÂ’t have to do any of that, really-"

But she cut him off. "Nonsense, dear. I think we all could use a little party, and if you think we let birthdays go unnoticed around here, youÂ’re mistaken. Now whatÂ’s your favorite kind of cake?"

Harry glanced at Ron, who was grinning at him. Then Harry shrugged helplessly, a grin of own tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I dunno," he said thoughtfully. "I liked that chocolate one you sent me last year."

Mrs. Weasley sat down at the table with a piece of parchment and a quill. She pushed aside the pile of Exploding Snap, pointed her wand at the deck, muttering "Finite Incantatem!" and grabbed the quill to start making columns on the parchment. Harry and Ron looked somewhat wistfully at the deck of cards, which, at Mrs. WeasleyÂ’s spell, had stopped ticking dangerously, and let out a long, low whistle. This meant the cards would not explode until a new game was dealt.

Harry sat through half an hour of Mrs. WeasleyÂ’s party planning, trying to think of all his favorite foods and deserts, his favorite games and whom he wanted to invite. Well, there was Hermione, of course, but there was no way she could make it since the Burrow had become Unplottable. Floo Powder no longer worked inside the confines of the Burrow and the drive was too far for Hermione to come for just one visit. Harry mentioned Sirius, then remembered the owl heÂ’d received from him saying how busy he was, going all over the country with Lupin to help Mad Eye Moody and the rest of the Aurors. There was really no one else he would like to come, so he told Mrs. Weasley that they didnÂ’t need to invite anybody else.

It was the first time heÂ’d ever spent his birthday outside of Privet Drive. It was difficult for Harry to be happy that he didnÂ’t have to spend his birthday alone in the bedroom inside Number Four. He always pictured his first "real" birthday happening in some house he would share with Sirius. Sirius would throw him a party and Harry would get to invite all his friends over to his own house. It would be after the war was over, after Voldemort had gone far away and they could all breath easily and not fear anything. He hadnÂ’t planned on this. He hadnÂ’t earned this. It had taken something being destroyed to allow Harry a happy birthday away from the family he hated and with the people he loved.

However, when the party day arrived, Harry found that it was quite easy not to think about the DursleyÂ’s and Privet Drive. The WeasleyÂ’s were great at making him forget his grief and just enjoy being one of the family. They all sat around the kitchen table: Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, Bill, Ron and Ginny (Mr. Weasley was working, Charlie was stuck in Romania). After a glorious dinner filled with all the favorite foods Harry could think of telling Mrs. Weasley, Harry was treated to the biggest and most glorious looking cake heÂ’d ever seen. While everyone sat around the outdoor picnic table, now stuffing themselves with cake, Harry enjoyed listening to funny stories about Weasley birthdays past.

Laughter rang out as George told of RonÂ’s sixth birthday. The twins had apparently tricked Ron into climbing a Weeping Willow tree, telling him all of his presents were hidden up there. When he couldnÂ’t get down, theyÂ’d left him out there while everyone searched the house and yard for Ron. After a few hours, Mrs. Weasley had managed to brow beat where Ron was out of Fred. When they all went out there, they peered up into the tree and saw that Ron had fallen fast asleep on the mossy branches of the willow.

"Smug little prats, arenÂ’t you?" Bill said with his mouth full of cake, looking at the twins. "I think we all remember your tenth birthdays?"

Two identical smiles disappeared. "Say it and die," Fred warned seriously.

"IÂ’d like to hear it," Ginny spoke up.

"So would I," Harry chimed in with a grin.

Bill sat up and rolled his sleeves as if preparing to do a comedy routine. "ItÂ’s really thanks to my young sister here, that we have this great story to tell."

Ginny rolled her eyes and grinned.

"A mere seven years old she was when she set off the greatest prank known to the Weasley family history to this day," said Bill with a grin.

"Aye," said Ron, winking at Ginny.

Bill continued. "A very clever young witch, my baby sister, even if her temper does get the better of her at times. This was one of those times when her temper and cleverness came in very handy. The story starts on the tenth birthdays of Fred and George Weasley, August 24th. These two young lads awoke early in the morning to start their trouble-making a bit earlier than usual and when they found Ginny awake, they saw ample opportunity."

"What did you do?" Harry asked Fred and George with a grin.

George gave in and shrugged. "We tied her up and locked her in the attic," he said as if it were obvious.

"And Ginny was up there for three whole hours, all tied up, my pour baby sister," Bill said, patting her on top of her head. Ginny slapped his hand away as Bill continued. "It was torture, being up there with crazy Berstein."

Harry remembered Berstein as the ghoul who occupied the Weasley attic.

"Berstein’s not mean or anything," Bill said to Harry. "He’s just a loud, cranky prat with nothing better to do than bang on pipes and burst into tears. Anyways, deciding that Ginny had had enough, George and Fred went up to the attic to untie her. Only . . . when they got up there, Ginny was gone, nowhere to be found. They searched everywhere for her, high and low. But no Ginny. And nobody else, either. For the house remained strangely deserted hour after hour after hour. Thinking that they were going quite mad, George and Fred continued to look now in the living room. And suddenly from out of nowhere, paper’s started flying everywhere, books soured through the air and hit them on their bumpy heads" –everyone roared with laughter- "lanterns turned on and off, drawers opened and closed, all on their own accord. Fred and George, now thinking that the house was haunted with some poltergeist who was up to no good, fled from it, screaming on top of their lungs. Mum, who had Apparated just outside the Burrow, her arms filled with groceries, met them. They told her everything, screaming frantically. Mum threw the groceries down, glass jars breaking, and ran inside the house. However, the site that met her was not the one that Fred and George had described. There was young Ginny sitting on the couch drawing pictures. The house was spotless just as Mum had left it."

After the laughing had died down, Harry founding himself asking, "What . . .?"

"Go on, Ginny," Ron grinned. "Tell us how you did it."

Smiling smugly, Ginny licked the icing off her fork and Harry was startled again by how adult Ginny looked. "It wasnÂ’t all that great."

"Yes, it was," Bill said proudly. "And you know it. Go on with you."

Ginny sighed dramatically. "Well, okay. It was all Berstein. I convinced him to untie me by promising him a trip downstairs." She turned to Harry. "He never gets to go downstairs," she explained and then continued. "Anyway, he helped me loose and we got to talking-"

"He actually became quite fond of Ginny," Ron interjected.

"I remind him of his granddaughter who was died in 1478 when she was only ten," Ginny said. "Anyway, we came up with the plan together. I would give him a signal from the stairs and he was to torture them. And he did," she said. "ThatÂ’s it."

"How did you get everyone out of the house, again?" George asked grudgingly.

"Oh, that was easy. I said I was going to play my Crabby Babby, the Singing Frog music. Bill, Charlie and Ron ran out of the house as quickly as they could."

"So Mum forced Fred and George to walk into town to replace the groceryÂ’s they caused her to drop and they did get to have any birthday cake for lying. And Ginny became the only one who can shut up that old prat," Ron said, pointing to the attic.

"Yeah, how do you do that?" Bill said suddenly irritated. "He was crying so loud last night, I swear he was playing the musical saw."

Ginny shrugged. "I just ask him. But donÂ’t try it," she warned. "He says that anyone who asks him except me will get their ears blown off. He doesnÂ’t like you lot, he thinks youÂ’re mean to me." At that she smiled happily, leaned back in her chair and continued eating her cake.

"Are you ever going to correct him?" Ron demanded.

Ginny just shrugged, and took a huge bite of cake.

Later that night, as the stars came out they still sat in their seats at the picnic table, talking and laughing, although their conversations had taken a more lazy tone.

Mrs. Weasley brought out HarryÂ’s birthday presents and Harry took his time opening the rather large pile. Hermione had sent him (what else?) a book, but HarryÂ’s eyes widened when he saw the title: Bewitching Brooms; A Reference to Every Known Spell on Broom Bewitching and Enchanting. "Cool," he muttered, flipping through. He paused to watch a picture that depicted the careful placement of a Loopellai charm, which gives the broom the ability to take the rider on a roller coaster ride. He opened a wooden picture frame from Hagrid along with the gamekeeperÂ’s famous rock cakes (he and Ron rolled their eyes at each other). Ron himself had given Harry a large assortment of candy along with a Chudley CannonÂ’s hat ("ItÂ’s about time you had one for yourself"). Fred and George gave him some great new tricks theyÂ’d invented for WWW, including (but not limited to) a large supply of Peacock Tarts, (their newer version of Canary Creams) and three packs of WWW Imploding Bubble Gum, for professional use only. The pile of gifts diminished at last and Harry thanked everyone as Mrs. Weasley went inside to clean up and wait for her husband to come home.

The night had arrived with a soft breeze and Harry leaned back and enjoyed being where he was. The guilt hadnÂ’t surfaced all evening and he was glad of it. It had been nice to spend his birthday not worrying, not wishing he were somewhere else. The day had been very pleasant and he reminded himself to thank Mrs. Weasley again tomorrow morning.

"Hey, George, I think itÂ’s high time we paid our little sister back for that foolish prank she played on us years ago," Fred said from out of the blue.

Harry saw Ginny sit up suddenly from her lazy position on her chair.

"You know, Fred, youÂ’re right. We do have a reputation to uphold."

"That we do."

They were out of their seats in a split second, but Ginny had been quicker. Harry watched with a choked laugh as Ginny sprinted towards the house, flung open the back door and rushed inside, the twins at her heels. She returned a few seconds later, running from around the front of the house, (they must have chased her out the front door) laughing the whole time. Harry winced as Fred caught up to her and tackled her onto the ground.

"Fred!" she shrieked. "Stop, no, THAT TICKLES!"

"You hold her down, Fred, we can all take our turns tickling her!" George laughed maniacally and Ginny rolled helplessly on the ground, laughing so hard, she could barely breath.

"Stop . . . IÂ’m . . . telling . . . Mum . . ." Then with a sudden spurt of strength, she flipped Fred over and sat on him, pulling hard on GeorgeÂ’s ankle. He lost his balance and toppled over.

Harry laughed loudly along with Ron and Bill.

"I guess she got you again, you prats," Bill called out.

"Never!" Fred shouted as he rolled over, but Ginny was quick, Harry noted. She ducked under FredÂ’s arm and crawled away.

She managed to get up and scramble over to the table, sitting down next to Bill and clinging to his arm. Her face was still charged with laughter.

When the twins walked over, Bill held up a hand to tell them to quit it and Ginny snuggled to her big brother. "My hero," she sighed.

Harry was kind of shocked at the display- not Fred and George tackling Ginny, but the affection between Bill and Ginny. At once, he got the idea that Ginny shared something a tiny bit more special with Bill than with any of her other brothers. The jealousy he felt surprised him- he hadnÂ’t felt that way about the WeasleyÂ’s in a long time. But Harry thought it must be nice to have a favorite brother; he didnÂ’t have any brothers at all.

It was around one in the morning when everyone finally got up and decided to go to bed. They took their time going up the stairs, laughing at all the jokes and stories theyÂ’d told and shook their heads at FredÂ’s and GeorgeÂ’s promise to get Ginny back for her old prank before the summer was over. Fred and George disappeared into their own room along with Bill, leaving Harry, Ron and Ginny climbing. When Ginny reached her door, she turned to them. "GÂ’night. Happy Birthday, Harry."

"Thanks," he said. "And thanks again for the gift."

She smiled. "Your welcome. ‘Night," she said to both of them and closed the door of her room behind her.

Ginny’s gift had been surprisingly great. The only thing that had been missing from his trunk that Bill and Lupin had salvaged was his copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, and Harry had remembered that he’d been reading it the night before Fawkes had come. He had reasoned that it must have been in his bed or on the floor of his room when Number Four had been attacked. Ginny had bought him another copy of it—a hardbound cover second edition containing a whole new chapter with a history of unusual Snitch catching, including information on The World Cup Harry himself had attended a few years back.

When Harry fell into bed, (a soft mattress next to RonÂ’s bed) he could hear RonÂ’s snoring almost immediately. He closed his eyes and thought that it had in fact been the best birthday of his life. The thought didnÂ’t guilt or worry him; it simply put him into a deep slumber.

However, soon after his head had hit the pillow, Harry was bolting upright in bed. A loud scream had pierced his sleep and Harry knew instantly that heÂ’d been having a nightmare. Ron gasped and sat up as well, and Harry realized that he must have screamed out loud. "Sorry," he began to pant, embarrassment creeping up on him. However, he was cut off by another earsplitting cry. It seemed to rattle the house and sent something like ice coursing through HarryÂ’s body. Harry knew instantly that he hadnÂ’t heard his mother scream before.

"Ginny," Ron said, scrambling out of bed.

Harry groped for his wand and they stumbled into the hall where they found Mrs. Weasley running down the stairs and into GinnyÂ’s room. He saw Bill and the twins emerge from their room, each clutching their wands, their eyes wide with fear.

"SheÂ’s fine," they heard Mr. Weasley call out from GinnyÂ’s room. He must have been the first to rush in there. "SheÂ’s okay."

Harry heard a collective sigh of relief. The twins, shaking, slid back into their room, but Harry saw Bill standing on the stairs, his face a mask of fury. Sobbing could be heard from GinnyÂ’s room now and the soft cooing of Mrs. Weasley.

"Nightmares," Ron told Harry gravely as the two of them climbed unsteadily back into their beds. "She had two early this summer. I think theyÂ’re about everything that happened in her first year, but she wonÂ’t tell us."

Harry felt a wave of sickness come over him as he lay staring at the ceiling. The walls of the Burrow were very thin and GinnyÂ’s sobbing could still be heard faintly along with Mrs. Weasley's soft words of comfort. Harry suddenly had a mental picture of Mrs. Weasley holding Ginny in her arms and rocking her back and forth much as sheÂ’d done to Harry the night of the Third Task only a few years ago. However, Ginny didnÂ’t look very grown up in HarryÂ’s thoughts of her now. He could see her lying on the floor inside the Chamber of Secrets nearly five years ago. Tiny and young and frightened. Sometimes, like now, Harry thought as he tried to fall asleep again, he felt exactly like that himself.

To Be ContinuedÂ…
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