Weasley's Whimsical Wonder Pie

People have told me that things happen for a reason. I've always heard that fate and destiny controlled our lives and drove our decisions down the road they were meant to ride down. That our life was like a story and we had to live it the way it was written. But I beg to differ. I honestly think that our lives can change by even the smallest things, that they can even change the course of our being. I always thought that maybe even a book (though that wouldn't change my life), a picture or even pie could decide what was to happen to you.

I never believed what they told me, what they said I should've alleged in. I always sought a way to prove them wide of the mark but whenever I gave them my evidence they just shunted it to the side, as most everyone did to me. But I always knew, deep inside that I was indeed right with my beliefs. You can believe me, or you can't. It doesn't matter, because no matter what you say, I'll still believe myself.

Weasley's Whimsical Wonder Pie is famous for two reasons. One, it tastes good, and two; it's changed lives for the better. It used to be called Molly's Miracle Pie, but my mum doesn't like us calling her Molly. But back to the pie, it's apple pie, nothing too special at first, but once you taste this pie, it's beyond apple pie.

I remember my brother Bill once told me (while eating this pie) that dad actually proposed to my mum when she made the pie for the first time. And ever since then, this pie has worked wonders. In fact, that day was the day Bill got his letter announcing he had got his job at Gringotts that he thought he wasn't going to get. My uncle Geoffrey got out of St. Mungo's when we sent him some pie, and Ginny found Hermes who was missing for a week while she was bringing some pie up to me when I was sick (apparently Fred locked him in the attic with the ghoul when he had a row with Percy).

My life changed once because of Weasley's Whimsical Wonder Pie. This had proved some of the people that told me about fate and destiny were wrong and that a simple apple pie could change someone's life forever.

***

It had been a rather nice day at the Burrow and Harry and Hermione had been over for the last few weeks of break. The night was still and the sky was clear, the stars were bright and the half moon was out casting silver shadows across the lawn. Too bad everyone was inside.

Mrs. Weasley was making apple pie and it seemed that the Weasley children (or Ron, Ginny, Charlie and Bill) were going about their business anxiously. No one else knew about the pie, though it would probably be discussed while they were eating it.

"So," said Harry, for about the thousandth time that day. There hadn't been anything to talk about at all and no one had anything to say. Ron was sitting at the foot of his bed, tapping his foot rapidly on the floor of his room.

"Ron, what's the matter with you?" Hermione asked. "You've been acting nervous. Is there anything you're not telling us?"

Ron continued his foot tapping, this time scratching his head while he did so. His face screwed up into and expression of deep thought when he suddenly stopped and looked up at Hermione.

"What? Sorry, I was- I was thinking," he said rather distantly.

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances. "Hermione's got a point," Harry said, sitting down next to Ron, "you sure there's nothing you want to tell us?"

"You've been edgy ever since your mum told us we were going to have pie," Hermione added.

Harry looked at Ron. He started tapping his foot again and looked at the two of his friends, as if hoping they could tell what he wanted to say by just looking at his face.

"Is that it?" Harry questioned. "Is it the pie?"

Ron nodded, this time biting his lip.

"Is the pie, well, bad?"

Ron shook his head.

"Is it what your mum puts in the pie?"

"No," he said, his foot tapping still, "it's just apple pie."

"Than what's with the pie that's making you so jumpy?" Hermione asked.

Ron sighed. He didn't want to tell them yet. It was tradition, for everyone who didn't know about the pie, to find out on their own. Ron didn't want to break tradition, but then these were his friends. Then again, he wanted it to be a surprise, and them think what they wanted to think about the pie and it's "magical properties".

There was a knock at the door, which cut Ron's deliberations short.

"Dears," came the voice of Mrs. Weasley, "would you three mind cleaning up the kitchen for me? Supper's nearly ready,"

The three of them said yes, nodded yes, or just followed the others out the door. As they ambled their way down the stairs from the door that read "Ronald's Room" the smell of roast chicken and potatoes wafted its way to them, as if it were luring them to the kitchen, all though they were on their way there already.

Down in the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley was checking the chicken and on the counter next to her was a pile of mismatched plates and cutlery. The three started clearing the table of all of the junk that lay sprawled over it.

As Ron was taking Ginny's jumper (which constantly got misplaced) up to her room, he began thinking about pie. He was wondering whose future rested in the thick crispy crust that was waiting for them all in the oven. He wondered if Harry would be the lucky one tonight. Maybe getting news from someone that the Dursley's house had collapsed from an avalanche and had been squashed to death and he was to live with the Weasley's from now on.

When Ron was realized where he was, after all of his daydreaming, he noticed he had passed Ginny's room. He started back and opened Ginny's door, just throwing her jumper through the open door to land in some random place in her room and closed the door again. As he turned to head back down the stairs he heard someone stifle a "Hey!" which sounded a lot like Ginny with a jumper over her head.

Back in the kitchen, Ron noticed Harry gathering chairs, which had been spread across the kitchen, back to the table, and saw Hermione stirring potatoes for his mum. She was doing such a common thing, but to Ron she seemed to be the best at it. Just the way she stirred the potatoes counter-clockwise looked as if there were to be any award for mashed potato stirring, Hermione would most definitely go home with first prize. She seemed to make it seem elegant, in a way that Ron had never seen anyone stir potatoes before. As he watched her, he was most rudely interrupted.

"Ouch, sorry Ron. Can you grab that chair over there?" Harry had stumbled into Ron while trying to bring the last two chairs back and had almost knocked him over. Ron shook himself out of his thoughts and picked up the chair Harry had asked him to get. He brought it to the table and then started setting it with the plates and utensils that were placed rather neatly on the counter.

As he did this, Hermione seemed to cross his mind again. She was no longer stirring the potatoes but ladling them out of the pot and into a large bowl. To Ron, she seemed to make this too, look appealing. Her messy hair was tucked behind her ears but a few pieces had comfortably rested themselves around the frame of her face. This, Ron thought, was when Hermione looked best, not that he didn't like the way she looked all the time.

"Ron," Harry called to him, "Ron!"

Ron turned to look at him, though his eyes were still glazed over with thought.

"Did you notice that you only put one plate out or is something in Hermione's hair telling you something?" he whispered in Ron's ear. Harry stepped away from him with what looked like a mix of a smirk and a frown, placing forks next to every place mat already on the table. Ron didn't care that Harry hadn't stayed around to hear his excuse because he really didn't have one, but he was almost about to laugh at the silly look on Harry's face.

He continued putting plates where Harry had previously set forks and placemats as Hermione came to join him.

"Here," she offered, "give me a few of those," Hermione took a few plates off of the pile Ron had been holding in his hand. He couldn't think of a way to thank her so her just gave her a feeble smile. As Hermione placed a plate in Mr. Weasley's usual spot at the head of the table, she smiled back at him.

When the table was set, they helped Mrs. Weasley bring the food to the table, which they subsequently took seats at when Mrs. Weasley went outside and upstairs gathering everyone up for dinner. Harry sat in what used to be Percy's old seat, Ron in his usual and Hermione sat across from the two of them next to Ginny's seat.

The long table began to fill up quickly and they all began to eat. Mr. Weasley, Charlie and Bill were discussing dragons, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Hermione was giggling about something and Harry and Ron ate in silence.

"Y'know," said Bill, taking a sip of some butterbeer, "they never say what dragons are actually in Gringotts,"

"I've heard they were Hungarian Horntails," said Mr. Weasley.

"I don't think so, you'd think there'd be. I think there're Fireballs, in my opinion," stated Charlie

Ron had looked from them over at the girls, but didn't bother trying to figure out what it was they were talking about. But he did watch Hermione eat instead, though trying not to draw attention to himself.

Lately, he'd been thinking about Hermione a lot. More than he ever had before. He had been doing more than just thinking about her, he had been dreaming about her every night as well. Ever since fourth year he had realized he had feelings for Hermione, and ever since he had never accepted the fact that he did. But now it seemed to be different. He didn't care if he had feelings for her; he just cared about caring for her and wondered if she felt the same.

"So, er, Ron," Harry said. Ron snapped out of his stare again to see what Harry wanted. "You never told us about the-"

But it seemed like Harry's question had been answered before he even asked it. Mrs. Weasley had gotten up and come back to the table with a large, steaming, golden apple pie.

"Weasley's Whimsical Wonder Pie," she said proudly as she placed it in the center of the table.

"But why's it called-" Hermione began to ask, but her question was drowned out by the excited talk of the rest of Weasley's going for a slice of the pie. Each of them sat with their sliver of pie a few moments later.

No one spoke, but the Weasley's looked around at each other timidly, as no one was talking and nothing was happening. Had the magic of the miracle pie worn off?

"Well then," said Mrs. Weasley rather disappointedly, looking around at everyone when most everyone was finished, "I'll be cleaning up now."

Mr. Weasley, Bill and Charlie left the room looking at Molly strangely. Mrs. Weasley got up and began to wash the dirty plates and the like.

Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny stayed at the table for they had decided to stay for another slice of pie.

It seemed that Hermione and Ginny were already in a deep conversation...

"But Hermione, you look fine," said Ginny, sounding quite annoyed.

Harry seemed to have been listening in.

"Hermione!" he said, sounding offended. "When did you care what you look like? The way you look doesn't contemplate the way you are,"

"That's right," Ginny, agreed, "you don't have to look like everyone else. That's what makes you, you."

Hermione sighed and picked at her apple pie looking crestfallen. Ron wanted so much as to comfort her, though he didn't know how to word it exactly. Even though she did look upset, to Ron, she still looked beautiful, no matter what anyone else thought. No one else seemed to be saying anything, but Ron's mouth began moving and apparently made sounds, which formed words that he seemed to have no control over...

"Hermione," he said, chewing his pie, "no matter what anyone says, no matter what anyone thinks, you're still beautiful and we love you... I love you. No one can change my feelings for you,"

And he continued eating his pie as if he hadn't realized what he had just said, which he indeed hadn't. Ginny's mouth fell open as she looked at Ron and Hermione was grinning at him awkwardly. Harry looked rigid as a board, pie almost to mouth but he seemed to not be moving at all. He just sat there with apple pie barely touching his lips, staring at Ron blankly.

Suddenly Ron stopped. What had he just said? Was he thinking out loud? Oh no, Hermione's got a weird look on her face...

"Oh Ron!" she cried. Hermione leapt up from her seat and ran around the table to embrace Ron in what he thought was the tightest (and longest) hug of his life. Though it was a bit uncomfortable, he liked it. No, he loved it. He hadn't exactly dreamt of things happening this way, but it wasn't bad. Ron put his arms around Hermione and returned her hug.

Ginny seemed to be giggling now and Harry still sat there motionless, forgetting that he was still about to eat his pie.

"I never knew you felt that way Ron!" Hermione said quite emotionally into Ron's chest.

"Yeah, well," Ron said, still quite confused, "now you do." He looked down at Hermione who was grinning and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"Ah," sighed Mrs. Weasley, "Weasley's Whimsical Wonder Pie works it wonder yet again,"

At this Harry put the pie in his mouth and looked at Mrs. Weasley with an expression of mingled confusion and satisfactory of pie. Mrs. Weasley didn't explain anything, but she smiled across the table at Ron and Hermione and picked up the pie, taking another piece for herself.

***

Sooner or later Harry and Hermione discovered the secret of the apple pie they had that night. Now the secret was out. Well, two more people in the world knew it anyway. In due course more will know of how a slice of pie can change the course of your life, though no one knows why and it doesn't make much sense.

I personally don't know why great things happen when one's eating some Weasley's Whimsical Wonder Pie, but all I know, is that it brings out the good in all of us. Even though we may never know the mystery behind my mum's great pie, it will always taste good and bring good news or something or other. It may just be a coincidence and if it is, it has great timing.

So, if things do happen because of destiny and fate and what's written in the stars... does it contain apple pie? I reckon so.