Ronald Weasley and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter Ten:

Happy Christmas, Harry

Shortly after Hermione left for home, Harry forced Ron to go to the Hospital Wing. He would have put up more of a fight, but he felt too weak. Trying to keep up the pretense of good health around Hermione had really taken its toll on Ron. So, it was with steaming ears that Ron found himself an hour later playing yet another game of Wizard Chess with Harry. It was only slightly embarrassing. After all, the only people around to witness his red face (Pepperup Potion always made his face take on this hue, since part of the effect of the potion as to warm up the body) and whistling head with the vapor pouring out were Harry and the rest of the Weasley children. Though Fred and George made sure to make a couple of jokes, they laid off for the most part, choosing to tease Percy about a girl they saw him studying with the day before.

After a few minutes of play, Ron forgot about the potion. He was totally absorbed in his game and planning out his next few moves to notice that Harry looked like he wanted to ask a question. At last, he watched as his bishop cornered Harry's king and thrust his fist in the air triumphantly. Looking up at his friend, he noticed that he looked only slightly grumpy at his loss. It didn't really surprise Ron; Harry wasn't as much of a sore loser at Hermione. But there was something else about his friend that immediately halted Ron's victory excitement. Harry looked intrigued and calculating.

"What?" he instantly asked worriedly. His eyes darted back down to the board to make sure that he had indeed won the game. Sure enough, Ron watched his bishop kick the remnants of Harry's king off of the space it had been previously occupying. Yes, he had most certainly won. But if that wasn't the problem, what was?

"I was just wondering," Harry said, squinting at him thoughtfully, "why it is that you wouldn't take Pepperup Potion until Hermione was gone?" Ron's jaw dropped as he stared at Harry, and a smirk immediately graced his friend's face. His appearance had to be comical. Red face, steaming ears, jaw dropped...yes, he had to look like a complete loser at the moment.

Ron knew that wasn't why Harry was grinning though. Did he really think that? Had he been talking to Fred and George or something? Completely at a loss for words, Ron glanced over at his twin brothers who were making smooching faces and batting their eyelashes ridiculously at Percy. If they knew anything about what Harry had just asked Ron, they certainly were putting on a good show of acting oblivious.

"It's got nothing to do with her," Ron finally said, thankful that his face was already red. Any blush that might pop up on his face would certainly be hidden by the effects of the potion. Harry quirked an eyebrow and Ron instantly felt his face get hotter. The truth was, he had put a lot of thought into what Hermione would feel if she saw him this way. He didn't know why, but he worried what she would think. Chances were that she didn't turn bright red like he did. She would probably be repulsed by him and want to stop being his friend. He knew he couldn't go back to the days when they annoyed each other, so he had been more than willing to suffer from the cold.

But he hadn't decided this just because of her. He had also thought about what everyone else would say. Fred and George would have certainly made a big show of him, as they had already tried to do earlier (though their efforts had failed horribly, since Percy and Harry didn't much feel like laughing at Ron for something he couldn't help). He was certain someone in his dorm would have said something to him too; it would have probably been Seamus, who seemed to be the unabashed joker of the five boys within the first year room. No doubt it would be something about Ron getting a red face to match his hair.

Harry hadn't bought his first statement, though. "Sure, Ron," he said, rolling his eyes.

Ron glared. "I didn't take it until now, because I didn't think I needed it!" It was a terrible lie, especially since Ron had skipped lessons yesterday, but it would have to do.

"Rubbish," Harry replied.

"Fine!" Ron exclaimed. The other Weasleys all looked over at the two boys, alarmed by their brother's flaring temper. Ron challenged them all with just one look. Miraculously, the twins decided to go back to their Percy-teasing and leave Ron to fix his problem alone. They'll probably pester me about it later, Ron thought, frustrated. They really didn't know when to drop things. Turning back to Harry, Ron saw that he looked slightly ashamed and put-out. Ron sighed. "Sorry...It's not about Hermione. I just...get embarrassed...over what that potion does to me. I didn't want to turn beet red in front of the whole House, y'know? I'm already red enough." Ron pointed at his hair, and Harry was apologetic enough to give him a sheepish look.

"Yeah, I can understand that." He began to pick up his chess pieces and place them back on the board, where they magically repaired themselves. Then, mumbling and not quite looking up at Ron, Harry said, "You know, Fred and George reckon you might fancy her."

Ron stiffened. He was so sick of hearing this. Why couldn't he just be friends with a girl, for Merlin's sake? Now they had turned his best friend on him. Ron took in a deep breath, praying it would steady his nerves enough to effectively whisper back to Harry. He had already told Fred and George loads of times that he didn't like Hermione. Harry, more than anyone, needed to hear this. After all, Hermione was his friend too. Chances were that if Harry thought this, it would quickly get to her. It was absolutely dire that things were set straight with Harry before that could happen.

"Look," he said calmly. Harry looked up, fear etched all over his features. Clearly Ron's earlier near-outburst wasn't forgotten. For good measure, Ron took another deep breath to further calm himself. He was not going to start a row with Harry before Christmas. "Hermione's my friend. That's it. She's fun and interesting, but I don't fancy her. I don't know why Fred and George keep insisting that...well...actually, yeah I do, but it's stupid..."

"Why?"

"Because Seamus and Dean told them that they reckoned I liked her the week that we had to do that project together," Ron sighed. "I guess we weren't allowed to have a laugh with each other, or something."

"Oh..." Harry said. Ron didn't know why, but Harry looked oddly sad at this news.

"What?"

"Nothing," Harry quickly assured. "I just have been wondering too. You guys fight all the time and then you always end up okay. I was just wondering how it always ends up alright." Ron wasn't quite sure what Harry meant by this. What, did he think he and Hermione were secretly boyfriend and girlfriend or something? The thought made him feel strangely ill. He was only eleven! While he thought girls were attractive (had even thought, on a couple of occasions, that Hermione herself was pretty), he knew he didn't want a girlfriend. Girls just weren't interesting to him yet. He found what most of them talked about was boring and, well...girly. Hermione only wasn't boring because she spent all of her time with them, so she had to talk about more manly subjects on a regular basis!

"That's just because we're good friends," Ron said, rolling his eyes. It should be obvious to Harry. When he continued to look bemused at Ron's statement, the boy quickly added in a voice that sounded like he was instructing a five year old, "When you're good friends with someone, you understand that no matter what you fight about, you're always going to be friends at the end of the day." Enlightenment suddenly showed on Harry's face, and he nodded knowingly.

Really, Harry, you're an awesome bloke, but sometimes you can be so thick! Ron thought wonderingly. Instead of voicing it out loud, though, Ron decided to ask, "Want to play another game?"

"Sure, if you actually help me this time," Harry responded with a heavy sigh.

* * *

"Do you think I can toast this breakfast muffin over the fire?" Harry wondered out loud. The common room was completely dark except for the fire the shone brightly in the grate, its flames casting eerie dancing flickers across the wall. Ron shrugged and watched in mild curiosity as Harry skewered the muffin on his toasting fork and shoved it into the fire. Instantly, their senses were attacked by the smell of burning bread, and Ron grinned. Of all the activities that they had done that Christmas Eve, Ron thought that this was the most fun, mainly because it involved food, but also because it was oddly random. They had spent the entire day saving up food from breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and now had a mound of odd sorts of items to try out over the fire.

"You two are positively disgusting," Percy said, extracting himself from a chair nearby where he had been reading. "Have fun, I suppose. Don't burn the common room down. Good night"

"Night," Ron replied with a grin. He had nearly forgotten that Percy had decided to sit near them (Fred and George kept freaking him out by smiling widely every time they saw him, and it had made the older boy decide that his first year brother would be better company). He hadn't actually been that annoying this time. In fact, he rather reminded him of Hermione...except, of course, less pretty. And less funny and interesting. But the way he sat in the chair and read while they had fun was certainly like her.

Spearing a water chestnut on his own toasting fork, Ron stuck it into the fire and grinned at the sizzling sound that burst forth. Harry pulled his muffin from the fire and set it aside to cool. "So, what do you think about this?" he began. "We write, 'Professor Snape is a smelly old git' on the cover of Malfoy's Potions book when he's not looking. Then, in class, perhaps Snape will notice and it'll at least get him a detention."

Ron smiled. "Yeah, that would be hilarious. Though, I think he or Snape would probably notice us writing on it. I mean, we would have to do it in the middle of class, and Snape doesn't miss a thing...lousy prat."

Harry sighed dejectedly. "True. Maybe we could find a way to get him expelled?"

"We could find a way to get him caught going into the third floor corridor," Ron suggested.

"Wow, that's really mean," Harry said. "I like it."

"Well, he deserves it!" Ron argued in defense of his rather nasty plan. Though Harry said he liked it, he still felt like he needed to explain his actions. After all, Ron didn't like to be mean if he could help it. "He tried to get us in trouble on our second week here!"

"I know," Harry agreed, pulling a piece of burnt muffin off of the fork. He grimaced as he took a bite and threw the muffin into a pile that they had long since designated as Hedwig's Christmas treats (though Ron was pretty sure Harry's snowy owl wasn't going to appreciate all of this burnt food). "I'm kind of glad that we went out that night, though," Harry suddenly said as Ron examined his water chestnut, which was now bubbling oddly. "If we hadn't have gone, we would never know about the three-headed dog, or why Snape was trying to kill me, or about Nicolas Flamel..."

"Well, we really don't know much about Nicolas Flamel still," Ron said with a frown. They were supposed to have been continuing on the research, but they had been having too much fun together in the past four days to really find the time for it. Not only had they played a lot of Wizard Chess, but Harry and Ron had made snowmen, had tea with Hagrid three times (still no luck on the Flamel front on that end), wandered the castle aimlessly in order to learn new secrets, and helped Fred and George pull a prank on Percy, in which they managed to glue Percy's quill and ink bottle to his hands. It had been a great holiday season so far, and going to the library never crossed their minds. Now, as Ron put aside his oddly inflated water chestnut to cool, he began to wonder how they could go about getting into the Restricted Section of the library.

"I know," Harry said with a frustrated sigh jamming a piece of ham onto his fork and thrusting it aggressively into the fire. "What I mean is, I think it's good that we know as much as we do."

"Yeah," Ron mumbled.

"Anyway...what would we do if nobody caught Draco in the third floor?"

"What do you mean?" Ron wondered, confused.

"Well, that dog could kill him!" Harry said with a frown.

"And that's a bad thing, because...?" Ron asked, though he really meant it as a joke. Of course he wouldn't want Malfoy to die! Even though the kid was a big jerk, Ron wouldn't wish death on him. Harry, however, looked shocked and oddly afraid of his best friend. "I'm kidding!" Ron hastily said, seeing the fear rising up in Harry's green eyes.

"Oh," Harry said, not looking sure.

"Seriously, I don't want him to die. I was making a joke," Ron said again, feeling guilty, even though he knew he shouldn't. After all, he hadn't really meant it. But still, the look on Harry's face was enough to make him feel bad for even joking about such a thing.

"I know," Harry said, though Ron wasn't sure he did. To take away from the awkwardness of the moment, Ron decided to try his bulbous water chestnut. It tasted horrendous and was added to the pile of Hedwig's treats without a thought. "We could find a way to get him in trouble with Filch, though. Maybe make it have something to do with Mrs. Norris?"

"YES!" Ron said eagerly, desperate to prove to Harry that he wasn't an evil-minded person. "Too bad we can't know where everyone in the school is at once. Then we'd be able to send him Mrs. Norris' way in the middle of the night or something."

"Yeah, too bad," Harry said with a frown, pulling his ham from the fire. At the same time, Ron stuck a small pastry in it. It gave off a wonderfully sweet smell, and within seconds, the boys watched as some of the cherry filling slopped out into the embers. "Mind if I have a bite of that when you're done?"

"Go ahead," Ron said with a nod. It seemed that they were finally back to where they started, and Ron breathed an inward sigh of relief. Harry had to know now that he was only kidding.

"So what do you think tomorrow's going to be like?" Harry asked a bit apprehensively. Ron frowned. He had wondered if Harry was at all worried about what his Christmas would be like. Of course, Ron knew about some of the surprises that were in store for Harry, but his friend didn't know at all. In truth, Ron was rather sure that Harry wasn't expecting any presents in the morning. But he will be getting presents, Ron thought with a smile. Yes, he was going to make sure that tomorrow would be the best Christmas that Harry Potter had ever had.

"Oh, I dunno," Ron said, flipping his pastry over in the fire. "I suppose we'll open presents and then the rest of the day will be pretty normal. Though I'm pretty sure there'll be a feast of sorts for dinner."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Presents."

If only you knew, Harry. Ron smiled contentedly. Yes, tomorrow was going to be brilliant.

* * *

Ron couldn't sleep well on Christmas Eve. He was simply too excited for Harry's Christmas surprise. Somehow, he eventually managed sleep, though he had weird dreams involving misplacing his wand in the girls' bathroom and becoming a professional gobstones player. When he woke up, dull sunlight streamed through his eyes, and it was with excitement that he sat bolt upright and beheld not only the mound of presents at the foot of his own bed, but one at Harry's too.

Should I wake him up? he wondered. Harry was lightly snoring, which signaled to Ron that he was rather deep in sleep. No, I better let him get his rest, Ron decided. He really rather wanted to prolong the excitement he was feeling at Harry getting his own presents. Although it was clear that his best friend certainly hadn't received as many gifts as he had, Ron grinned at Harry's bounty. Here he had been acting as though no one loved him. Clearly there were loads of people who were thinking about him this Christmas.

As quietly as he could, Ron prized a gift bag from the pile of presents that were on his trunk. He figured it would be his best bet as far as opening was concerned. It would make the least amount of noise (thereby ensuring that Harry didn't wake up). Carefully, he extracted a small letter from its depths first and read it.

Dear Ron,

I spent a lot of my allowance on this, so you better appreciate it. Mum was kind of mad, because I only got Fred and George some joke sweets that cause body parts to swell (though she thinks that the candy is harmless) and Percy a small booklet called, "Surviving N.E.W.T. Level Classes." But then I told her you're my favorite brother and that you deserved something big.

Enjoy...and tell Harry I said Happy Holidays!!

Merry Christmas,

Ginny

Thoroughly excited about the prospect of what Ginny could have bought him, Ron made a little more noise than he wanted to extracting the odd lump that was wrapped in tissue paper from the bag. Harry rolled over with a great grunt and stretched. Hastily (so that he didn't miss Harry's reaction to seeing his presents), Ron removed the wrappings and looked down in amazement at Ginny's gift to him. A bright red, slightly used Quaffle sat in his lap. On the side of the ball in a small stamp were the words, "Ministry Issue: 1945." Ron grinned widely. So, not only had he gotten a Quaffle, but he had gotten one that had some history to it (Ministry issue Quaffles only ever went to government sponsored teams like the Chudley Cannons; Ron imagined this very Quaffle being used by the 1945-46 team).

Harry suddenly sat up quickly, and Ron pushed the Quaffle behind him. Although he knew Harry would be just as excited about Ron's gift, there was still the possibility of Harry feeling jealous of the fact that Ron had gotten something so cool. I'll show him later, Ron decided.

It seemed to take Harry a couple of moments to understand what was going on. He looked tired and disoriented. Ron decided to help him out. "Merry Christmas," Ron greeted, his voice coming out croaky from lack of use.

"You too," Harry said with a yawn as he pulled his bathrobe over his arms. A smile suddenly graced his friend's face, and he directed it over at Ron. "Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"

"What did you expect, turnips?" Ron sarcastically asked. The truth was, nothing made him happier than to see Harry's happiness about the fact that he got some gifts for Christmas. Really, more than anyone Ron had ever met, Harry deserved this holiday. For too long, Ron had had to hear about Harry's troubling past. Now it was time for Harry to actually experience real and true love, the way it was supposed to be.

While Harry weighed his options over which gift to open first, Ron opted for a small parcel that was perched atop a big lumpy one that he could only assume was his annual Weasley sweater. The note attached to his small present wasn't near as lengthy, but Ron smiled at what was written all the same.

Ron,

I got this off of an Egyptian bloke who is staying in my camp. It's a traditional magical candy made in Cairo. Loosely translated, the name means Scarab Crunch. I hope it's good. I haven't tried it.

Write me back to let me know how life at Hogwarts is going.

Happy Christmas!

Bill

Ron unwrapped the gift and looked at the picture on the box. It looked like a Cockroach Cluster, but a little wider. I hope it's not a real bug, Ron thought, wrinkling his nose. That was why he didn't like Cockroach Clusters, actually. If it was just chocolate shaped like a beetle, then it wouldn't be bad. However, Ron couldn't imagine why anyone would ever want to eat a chocolate-coated insect.

There was only one way to find out. Taking a bite, Ron instantly knew he had made a mistake. The ominous crunching resounded in the room, followed by a gross oozing trickle that he could feel running down the sides of his mouth. NOPE! Ron inwardly chided himself. Spit it out!!! Gagging, Ron let the Scarab Crunch fall from his mouth back into its box. Never again. Ron placed the box on his dresser and knew instantly where this was going. Maybe Hedwig might actually like this stuff...

He reached down for his Weasley sweater, but didn't open it. Instead, he found himself fascinated in what Harry was holding in his hand. The metallic object wasn't quite round, but it definitely had edges to it too. Ron could see a picture of what looked like a person on it as Harry held it up for both he and Ron to inspect. "That's friendly," Harry muttered softly to himself with a half-hearted shrug. Ron couldn't tell if it was a genuine statement.

"Weird!" Ron exclaimed, taking in the sight of what had to be some form of Muggle currency (had it not been so jagged and small, Ron reckoned it could be mistook for a Sickle). "What a shape! This is money?" Harry seemed obviously amused at Ron's interest in the coin.

"You can keep it," he said with a laugh. Ron gratefully took the coin from Harry and examined it carefully.

"Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to take something that's worth a lot, you know?" Ron quickly said. Truthfully, Ron didn't know how Muggle money worked. If this coin was valuable, he certainly didn't want Harry to give it to him.

"Let's put it this way," Harry said, "the Dursley's gave it to me. Does that tell you how much it's worth?"

"Oh," Ron said with a sigh. That meant that it really wasn't a good gift at all. No wonder Harry wanted to be rid of it.

"But it's better than usual," Harry quickly said. "I think they must like that I didn't come home."

"Yeah, well...I'm glad you didn't go home too," Ron cheekily commented. Harry laughed and surveyed his three remaining gifts.

"Hagrid and my aunt and uncle," he declared thoughtfully, holding up a wooden flute and pointing to the fifty-pence piece that was still in Ron's hand. Briefly Ron wondered if Hagrid had gotten him anything. "So who sent these?"

"I think I know who that one's from." Ron held up his own lumpy package that matched Harry's, only going slightly red from lying. The truth was, Ron had known that Harry was going to get something from Mrs. Weasley, but he didn't want Harry to realize that Ron was in on it. Instead, he would rather Harry assumed that Ron's mother did it purely out of the goodness of her heart (which, Ron figured, was true as well. Had he not said anything to her, Ron was pretty certain Mrs. Weasley would have still at least sent some fudge to Harry). "My mum," he clarified for his friend. "I told her you didn't expect any present and - oh, no...she's made you a Weasley sweater." Ron, of course, was pretending to be annoyed. Really, he was secretly ecstatic. This only furthered his acknowledgement of Harry being like a brother to him.

As he watched Harry unwrap his package, Ron explained the tradition. "Every year she makes us a sweater." He ripped back the thin paper covering his new jumper and wrinkled his nose. "And mine's always maroon," he complained, beholding the image of his newest maroon sweater to add to his collection. Though he really liked this Weasley family custom, he also wished his mum would realize that he hated maroon. Why couldn't she just make one that was Chudley Cannons orange for once?

The sound of Harry ripping into his next gift brought Ron out of his reverie, and he tore into his next present with as much fervor. A box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans lay within along with a gold and red scarf that looked handmade and a note. Ron unfolded it and read Hermione's tidy scrawl:

Happy Christmas Ron!! I was originally just going to get you the jelly beans, but you got me such a lovely gift that I decided that you deserved something just as nice. I didn't make the scarf myself. I asked my mum to do it. Sorry if it's a bit messy...she's not really that good at knitting. Anyway, I asked her to make it, because I remembered that day when we went out to watch Harry practice and you lent me your cloak. You probably would have been warmer if you would have had a scarf on. I know I wouldn't have felt so bad about it. Anyway, I hope you have a great holiday. Try not to get into too much trouble.

See you on the fifth of January!

Hermione

P.S. Don't forget to go to the library!

Ron rolled his eyes at the last part of the note. It had been a rather good letter up until that part. Inspecting the wool scarf, Ron noticed a couple of spots that had holes, but they really weren't that bad. He wrapped it around his neck and dug into his box of Every Flavor Beans, looking over at Harry in the process. His gift from Hermione - a box of Chocolate Frogs - sat forgotten in lieu of his following gift. A glittery, almost watery swatch of material practically flowed over Harry's hands. His friend looked utterly bemused at what exactly this present was, but Ron couldn't hold back the gasp at the sight of it.

"I've heard of those!" Ron exclaimed in a hushed sort of awe as he closed up the box of Every Flavor Beans and dropped them on his bed. "If that's what I think it is - they're really rare, and really valuable."

"What is it?" Harry asked, even more confused by Ron's wonder at what was in Harry's hands. It took Ron a moment to register what Harry had asked. He was too busy staring somewhat enviously at the fluid material.

"It's an invisibility cloak," Ron explained. He had never really seen one, of course. He had heard his Uncle Bilius once mention it when he was younger. He had read The Tale of the Three Brothers to Ron, Fred, and George and had explained to them that the cloaks could actually be made out of specialized material with spells cast on them. "I'm sure it is - try it on." Sure enough, as Harry slipped the cloak onto his shoulders, his body completely disappeared. Ron gaped at him and couldn't help but exclaim excitedly, "It is! Look!" Harry looked down at his now completely transparent body and gasped loudly. It appeared that he even jumped at the shock of seeming body-less. His head bounced up high, and Ron nearly laughed at the ridiculous sight of it.

Then a soft fluttering of paper caught Ron's attention. "There's a note! A note fell out of it!" Ron exclaimed. Throwing the cloak off on Ron's bed, Harry reached down for the note and went over it thoroughly. Ron stared and the glistening fabric in his hands. It was so beautiful. There were intricate little designs all over it. It actually looked quite ancient, yet somehow there weren't any holes or stains on it (of course, Ron wasn't sure if something so liquefied could be stained).

"I'd give anything for one of these. Anything," Ron said rather wistfully. Here he had been expecting for Harry to have a somewhat less exciting Christmas than he would, yet Harry ended up being the one with the most exciting present. Ron looked up at him with a smile, about to mention this, when he saw a small frown on Harry's face. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Harry said immediately, though Ron could tell that there was definitely something wrong with him. The note, which Ron was sure would make him feel good, seemed to do nothing but distress him. Ron was about to ask about it, when Fred and George decided to burst in and the cloak was snatched out of his grasp by Harry to be hidden in the folds of Harry's blanket. Whatever it was that was bothering Harry would have to be ascertained later.

* * *

As Ron drifted to sleep, he couldn't help but reflect on the good haul he'd gotten today. Along with the sweater and fudge from his mum, Hermione's candy and scarf, the Quaffle, and the disgusting Scarab Crunch from Bill, Ron had also gotten a guide on professional chess strategies from his father (it was actually a Muggle guidebook, but Ron really didn't expect something else from Mr. Weasley...he loved Muggles), a brand new pair of dragon-hide gloves from Charlie (something he really needed, since the only second-hand pair at the apothecary in Diagon Alley had holes in them, and Ron often found himself getting burnt in Potions because of it), Exploding Snap cards from Fred and George, a small book about dragons from Hagrid (who seemed to think that Ron would follow down the same path as Charlie), and a book called Leadership Skills for the Model Wizard from Percy (okay...so maybe that hadn't been such a great present, but it was at least thoughtful). He had also gotten a few items from the crackers at dinner which included more Every Flavor Beans, a tall, pointed hat that changed colors, and a top that emitted a high pitched squeal every time he rotated it (Ron could foresee pranking Percy with it this summer).

Besides the gifts they had gotten, Ron, Harry, Fred, George, and Percy had all managed to have a fun day as well. They all engaged in a snowball fight, which ended in Percy shouting that he was going to write home to Mrs. Weasley about how Ron was misbehaving. Admittedly, Ron probably shouldn't have aimed the icy snowball straight for his brother's glasses and then cheered about it being a great throw. They had great time at the feast, which had also ended in Percy telling Ron he was going to write home and complain about Ron misbehaving (this time was because he had flung some gelatin right at his brother's nose).

Even Scabbers had a good day. Ron had allowed Scabbers to eat half of the burnt food from last night and most of the Scarab Crunch. Hedwig disliked most of the food they tried to give her, so they allowed all the owls in the Owlery free-reign of the treats, and gave Ron's rat what they wouldn't touch. Somehow, Ron knew that he would devour it, and sure enough, he had eaten greedily.

Stupid fat rat, Ron thought affectionately as he tried to slip into a peaceful sleep. It really wasn't hard to begin to doze off. He had eaten so much turkey, potatoes, pie, and pudding that it was actually quite difficult to not fall asleep. For some reason, though, he felt like he had some unfinished business. What was it?

Oh yeah. Ron had forgotten to ask Harry why the note that came with the invisibility cloak bothered him so much. Part of him was prepared to sit up in his bed, pull back the thick curtains, and ask Harry, but the greater majority of him just wanted to stay put. After all, Harry would still be here tomorrow, and he could ask then, couldn't he? Right now, all he really wanted to do was fall asleep.

So that's what he did.

* * *

At first, Ron found himself nearly unable to contain his excitement. He didn't know why, but the way Harry had spoken about that mirror today made him practically squirm with anticipation. Of course, he'd been annoyed at first to hear that Harry had wandered the corridors under the invisibility cloak without him (he had thought that they were going to try everything first together), but that frustration was quickly replaced with exhilaration.

Though Ron knew that a mirror that showed you your relatives shouldn't be that exciting, he desperately wanted to see Harry's. He had seen pictures of them before in magical history books and in commemorative copies of the Daily Prophet that Flourish and Blott's sold (Ron remembered the headline to that newspaper with dismay; "James and Lily Potter Murdered: Son Harry Survives Killing Curse and Destroys He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named"). But he had never seen them so close and in person. Granted, being inside of a mirror probably couldn't be considered meeting them in person, but they would be so close that it would probably be like it. And to see Harry's face when he saw them would be enough pleasure for him.

Yet Harry didn't seem to know where he was going. He kept mumbling to himself. "I went around this corner..." he said quietly. Ron rolled his eyes. Though his feet were wrapped in heavy wool socks and he was wearing his slippers, Ron's toes felt like ice cubes. The castle had a definite draft in it which caused a shiver to run up Ron's spine. After a while of enduring it, Ron was beginning to daydream of his nice cozy bed and the Gryffindor fireplace.

"The library is that way, so the room must be...down here..." Harry said. This time, Ron didn't even attempt to hide his annoyance. He actively sighed out loud, in fact. Harry didn't seem to notice, though. He was so focused on finding the mirror room that Ron's discontent was quite beneath his attention. Ron looked toward the library in longing. Though his friend had said that he'd looked in the library the night before, something told Ron that he hadn't been very thorough about it.

A breeze ruffled the folds of the cloak and goose bumps rose up on Ron's exposed flesh around his ankles (the pajama pants he was wearing had fit at the beginning of the school year, but he'd already grown at least an inch since then). Snot began to run down his nose, and Ron instantly started fearing getting sick again. He had only just gotten rid of his cold from last week. He couldn't afford being ill again! Unable to hold it back, Ron complained, "Harry, I'm freezing! Let's forget it and go back!"

"No!" Harry hissed back angrily. Ron had to do a double take just to make sure, but the look on Harry's face made him feel distinctly uncomfortable. He looked maniacally determined to find that mirror again. Nervous butterflies flapped within his stomach. Harry actually looked scary, though it could have been just a trick of the light. Couldn't it? "I know it's here somewhere!"

All Ron could do was nod in agreement, though at the moment, he would have liked nothing better than to get away from this new, terrifying version of Harry. If he knew any better, he would have guessed that Harry would absolutely kill in order to get near that mirror again. He had never been snapped at before like that from Harry, and the effect of it was very powerful.

Though could he really blame him? Harry had probably never seen his parents since they died. Ron had never seen any pictures of them on Harry's nightstand. In fact, all he had was his Chocolate Frog cards up there. Chances were, whatever Harry had seen within the mirror had gotten him obsessed. Ron decided to not beg to go back anymore, even though his feet were frozen and all this walking was making him hungry. Harry wouldn't listen to him anyway, and besides, if Ron made him too mad, they might end up getting caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris for being too loud.

That still didn't stop him from complaining a little, though. He wasn't trying to be mean to Harry, but he couldn't get over how much his feet hurt from the cold. "I think they might be frostbitten," he commented quietly under his breath.

"They're fine. I know I didn't go down those stairs..."

"I'd like some more of that spaghetti from dinner. I'm starving."

"Mmhmm...past the suit of armor...where is it?"

"I can't feel my feet...I think they're going to fall off!"

"Ah ha!!" Harry exclaimed in an excited whisper. Ron nearly jumped at the sound of it, but managed to keep himself firmly planted to the ground. "It's here," he said as he moved toward one of Hogwarts' many large oak doors. "Just here - yes!" Working together, the heavy door was pushed inward. Before Ron could say or do anything, Harry had already flung the cloak from himself and vaulted across the completely empty room to a large mirror on the opposite side.

Ron slowly made his way across the room, glancing at Harry nervously. From the angle he was standing in, he couldn't see anything except for Harry, who was staring almost hungrily into the reflective glass. Was his friend hallucinating or something? Did Christmas bother him to the point that he was now imagining his relatives in a mirror? What if he saw how happy Ron and his brothers were with each other and had gone crazy imagining what it would have been like with his family?

Before he could pose this suggestion to his friend, Harry asked excitedly, "See?"

"I can't see anything," Ron said pityingly. He tried hard not to look at Harry with eyes that clearly said just what Ron thought of Harry's experience with the mirror, but he had a feeling that he was failing at it. Harry looked at Ron as though confused by Ron's lack of seeing them.

"Look! Look at them all! There are loads of them," he insisted vehemently.

"I can only see you," Ron answered in dismay. Poor Harry. Though up until now he had seemed pretty normal, Ron supposed that life with the Muggles really had a bad effect on his friend.

"Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am," Harry answered, moving out of the way for Ron to take his place. Ron really wasn't sure what he should do. Harry clearly needed help, but Ron didn't want to upset him. Maybe he should just humor him? Deciding that was the best route, Ron stepped up onto the spot directly in front of the mirror.

At first, Ron didn't know what to think. The mirror version of Ron wasn't the same as the one staring in on him. He was much taller and stood prouder than the eleven year old ever had. His cheeks no longer were pudgy and there was no baby fat whatsoever. Actually, he was entirely lanky, and Ron only recognized himself, because of the red hair, freckles, and long nose.

But it wasn't the overall appearance that was so shocking to Ron. It was what was all around him. On his chest shone a bright silver Head Boy badge and in his left hand he was clutching the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup by the handles. A cheeky sort of grin broke out on his face as he looked out at himself, and a similar one graced Ron's actual lips. He had succeeded in everything he wanted to. He was the best of all the Weasleys...

There was more to it, though. He wasn't alone. Standing next to him, her bushy hair so large that some of it couldn't fit within the frame of the mirror, was a grown up girl who looked eerily like Hermione Granger. She didn't seem to be too surprised to find herself next to Ron. In fact, she seemed like she belonged there. Smiling up at her mirror companion, Ron clearly saw the bucked teeth that he had come to associate with his best friend. What does this mean? he wondered to himself.

And then it happened. Mirror Hermione reached her hand down to Ron's right one that was loosely hanging at his side. Her fingers intertwined with his, and his lopsided smile changed into a large and very genuine grin. Ron had never seen either of them smile like that (though, of course, he'd never actually seen himself smile period). It was almost as though all they needed in the world was each other.

"Look at me!" Ron exclaimed in a silent sort of awe and, quite frankly, fear. He was finding he didn't like the way Mirror Ron and Mirror Hermione were looking at one another.

"Can you see all your family standing around you?" Harry asked eagerly.

"No - I'm alone," Ron lied. He hadn't realized that he was being untruthful with Harry until after he said it. It was probably the better course to take, after all. What would Harry think if Ron said that he was holding hands with Hermione and that they wouldn't stop staring at each other? He would probably think his best friend was a nutter, that's what! "But I'm different - I look older - and I'm Head Boy!"

"What?" Harry said, sounding positively bewildered and annoyed.

"I am - I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to - and I'm holding the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup - I'm Quidditch Captain too!" The more he stared at those things, the more excited Ron got. But then he saw Hermione. She was grinning down at the younger Ron encouragingly, as if to prod him into asking the question that couldn't help but enter Ron's mind. "Do you think this mirror shows the future?" Ron wondered. The question rung through the silence, sounding both hopeful and fearful. What if it did? Did that mean that Fred and George were right and that he and Hermione were meant for one another? Should he tell her about this?

"How can it? All my family are dead..." Harry said sadly. Ron's nerves weren't eased at this statement. Actually, he felt even more edgy at the image in the mirror, though now that awkwardness was also mingling with disappointment for Harry's losses in life. It didn't last long, though. "Let me have another look," Harry quickly begged, trying to scoot Ron out of the way.

Ron didn't know why, but he felt suddenly defensive and annoyed. "You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time!" he snapped at Harry. Once again, Ron saw that crazed look flash in Harry's eyes, but this time he didn't back down from it. Instead, he glared right back into Harry's green eyes feeling as unyielding as his friend. He desperately needed to figure out why Hermione was in there with him, and he wasn't going to do it without seeing it.

"You're only holding the Quidditch cup, what's interesting about that?" Harry snarled back, pushing Ron harder. "I want to see my parents!"

"Don't push me!" Ron said throwing his hands up to begin shoving Harry just as Harry was shoving him. But before anything else could be said or done, a noise rang out in the corridor and Ron's eyes were fully torn away from the mirror. That had to be Mrs. Norris or Filch! "Quick!" Ron hissed, throwing the cloak back over the both of them in the nick of time.

Mrs. Norris rounded the corner and stared into the room. Ron held his breath and Harry reached a hand up to cover his mouth. They both tried to stand as still as possible, but it didn't seem to be working. The cat stared for a long period of time directly toward the mirror, and Ron was convinced that it was searching for them. Finally, she turned back around and snuck out of the door and Ron let out the breath that he'd been holding onto for a full minute. Harry sighed in relief and began to turn back to the mirror.

"This isn't safe," Ron said, reaching his hand down to grab Harry's arm. "She might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on." And before Harry could argue, Ron pulled him from the mirror and out of the room.

They were silent all the way back up to the tower. Ron tried not to look over at his friend, because he knew that Harry was mad at him. Now that he was away from the power of the mirror, Ron could understand why. After all, he hadn't exactly told Harry everything he'd seen in the mirror. What he had told him probably seemed petty and stupid in comparison to seeing all of his dead relatives. Pangs of guilt invaded his stomach and heart and Ron knew that once they got back into the common room, he'd have to apologize.

That didn't mean, though, that he'd tell Harry everything he'd seen. He didn't want anyone to know that Hermione had somehow ended up holding hands with him in that weird mirror. It would be best that he just forgot it, even though he knew he'd never be able to. The only way would be to avoid that room and its mirror from now on. He felt mad just from standing in front of it for five minutes. He couldn't imagine how Harry had felt after staring into it for hours the previous night.

They only took the invisibility cloak off when they were right in front of the portrait. The Fat Lady let them in with an exasperated sigh, but other than that, they didn't experience any problems. Once inside, Harry made a beeline for the dormitory, apparently determined not to say anything to Ron. But Ron wouldn't allow it.

"I'm sorry," he called out to Harry's retreating back. His friend stopped in his tracks, but didn't turn around. "I just wasn't expecting it, you know? I thought I was going to see my family, but then I see me and I'm old and...good looking...and successful. It made me feel really good, you know?" Well, not all of it made him feel good. There was one very unsettling part, but he wasn't going to dwell on that right now.

"I know," Harry answered, turning back to him. "It makes me feel really good to see my parents and my grandparents." Ron nodded sadly and took a few steps toward Harry, hoping that Harry wouldn't back away. He didn't. "What do you think the mirror does? I mean, it doesn't show just relatives and it can't show the future...what do you suppose is its purpose?"

"Maybe it shows us things that make us happy?" Ron suggested, though he knew it couldn't be. That Hermione thing didn't make him happy. Sure, it had felt good to see himself smile like that, but it also made him feel weird.

"No, I don't think so," Harry negated. "I don't always feel happy when I look in that mirror. I feel...disappointed. Like I'm missing out on something."

"Maybe that's it," Ron said thoughtfully. "It shows us things we're missing out on?" It was an unsettling thought to consider. Maybe Fred and George saw something in Ron and Hermione that neither of them had seen in themselves yet? What if they were missing out on each other? But they couldn't be...they were friends now!

"I doubt it. I mean, you're too young to be missing out on being Quidditch Captain and Head Boy. Not to mention that you're already brilliant and probably could easily do both of those things without putting too much effort into it."

"You're lying," Ron said, turning red in the process. Harry laughed at his discomposure, but Ron didn't feel it was a laughing matter. Of the two of them, Harry would probably be more likely to be Head Boy and Quidditch Captain. He got better grades, was already on the Quidditch team, and was just more likeable.

"Well, you're not missing out on that, at least," Harry said.

"Look," Ron quickly said. "Maybe we should forget about the mirror? I felt...crazy while I was looking at it. I didn't want to give it up, you know? Perhaps we should just stay away from it. I don't think it'll make us feel better in the long run." Harry looked at Ron warily, and Ron could immediately tell that Harry didn't want to make any promises. He longed to go back to the mirror, longed to see his family and spend time with them.

"Sure," he said reluctantly. Ron instantly knew that he wasn't being truthful, but he also knew that he couldn't stop Harry. He could try, but Harry was determined to go back to it and would stop at nothing.

"Right," Ron responded, preparing himself for a long week. He could foresee himself spending the rest of the holidays either trying to cheer Harry up or begging him not to go. For now, though, he wasn't going to fight with him. "So...I guess we should go to bed then."

"Yeah," Harry replied. He didn't move to the doorway to the dormitory, though. In fact, he seemed like he was about to insist on staying in the common room. Ron carefully took a few steps forward and put a hand on Harry's shoulder, trying to guide him through the door, up the stairs, and into their dormitory. Something told him that if he could just get his friend up there, he'd be able to keep him from the mirror at least for tonight.

"Come on," Ron said gently. Harry's shoulders sagged as he sighed heavily, but his body turned and he followed Ron up the steps.

* * *

Dear Bill,

I hope you had a happy Christmas. Mine was pretty good. I got another maroon sweater from Mum, but I didn't mind, since Harry got one too (though his is green...I'm kind of jealous). Sorry, but those Scarab Crunch things were gross. Scabbers liked them, though.

Life at Hogwarts is pretty cool. I'm not as bad at school as I thought I would be, but I'm also not as smart as you and Charlie (or Percy...ugh). I'm friends with Harry Potter, though I'm sure Mum probably told you all about that. He's really cool and isn't snobby about being famous or anything. He's just a normal kid like me. I'm also friends with this girl named Hermione Granger. She's really smart and kind.

Anyway, there's something I need some advice about. Harry and I found this mirror a few days ago, and it's really strange. I was thinking maybe you would know something about it, since you work with enchanted objects all the time. The mirror doesn't just show you yourself, but it also shows you other stuff. Harry saw his parents in it, and I saw myself as an older student. In the mirror, I was wearing a Head Boy badge and holding the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup.

Harry kept going back to it, but apparently (this is what he says), Professor Dumbledore caught him and told him they were going to be moving the mirror to somewhere. I asked if Dumbledore told him what it showed, but he wouldn't tell me. So, I was wondering if you could tell me? Harry said Dumbledore said it was called the Mirror of Arised or something like that? Air-i-said? Erisaid...I don't know how it's spelled.

Anyway, let me know what you think. I've been bothered about it for a while, especially since it seemed to hurt Harry. I'm glad it's gone, to be honest.

I better go. The train is almost here with everyone who went home for Christmas and I know Hermione is going to want to ask how our holidays went.

Love,

Ron