The Tale of the Lonely Thermometer

The Tale of the Lonely Thermometer

Twas the night before Christmas and all throughout the Weasley house everyone was enjoying the festive pandemonium that always came with the holidays. Arthur, along with Bill and Charlie who were home for Winter Hols, had spent most of the day hunting for a Christmas tree, and had not returned until it was quite dark, with numerous bruises, a few open wounds and one very crooked evergreen.

"Arthur!" Molly exclaimed when he and the two eldest Weasley children came stomping through the front door, spreading snow all over the entryway. Their teeth were chattering and Bill's lips looked like blueberries, which caused Molly to tut over him something furious. "What on earth is the matter with you? Why didn't you take any cloaks?"

Arthur frowned thoughtfully. "You know, it's the oddest thing, really. When I looked at the thermometer this morning, I could've sworn that it said 30 degrees. How odd!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Arthur!" said Molly, as she ushered them all into the warm living room. "I told you that you shouldn't pay so much attention to Muggle things! There's no making heads nor tails of them!"

"You've got to see the tree we found, Mum!" Charlie said excitedly. The aforementioned tree was waiting outside covered in snow, in what the thermometer claimed was 25 degrees Celsius. "It's great! I mean, it's not perfect or anything, and it is a bit funny looking, but its got plenty of room 'round the bottom for presents. And I picked it out, too!"

"I'm sure it's lovely, dear," Molly allowed, pushing Charlie into an armchair and wrapping him so tightly in an afgahn that he could barely breathe, let alone move. She grabbed hold of Bill next, who had been trying to sneak quietly out of the room while she fussed with Charlie. "You're not going anywhere until you've had a chance to warm up properly, Bill."

Bill groaned. "But Muuum... I was just going upstairs to write to Eric! It's been days since I owled him and besides, it's Christmas Eve, he'll be expecting something!"

Molly rolled her eyes. "Honestly, all I ever hear out of you is Eric this and Eric that. It's wonderful that you boys are such good friends, but really, I should think you would be able to go a day without owling each other."

What could be heard of Charlie through the blankets sounded supsiciously like snickering. "Ooh, Bill's in loo~ve!"

"I am not!" Bill shouted, chucking a pillow at Charlie which bounced off his outer coverings and landed near the fireplace.

Molly had located another afgahn and was attempting to wrap it about Bill, who was struggling furiously and shooting death glares at his brother. Charlie, by this point, had begun singing and making kissy faces, only further infuriating Bill until he was red in the face.

"Aha!" Arthur cried triumphantly, and they all froze to stare up at him in surprise. He smiled to himself in satisfaction, slipping his wand back into his pocket and eyeing the troublesome thermometer happily. "That should take care of it!"

Molly sighed. "Now what have you done?"

"D'you remember that wonderful charm I found last week?" Arthur asked. Molly looked at him blankly. "You know, the one that'll allow the thermometer to know what temperature it is without actually being outside?"

"..."

Arthur coughed and continued on, despite Molly's apparent disinterest. "Well, it must not have been working right, but I'm sure I've got it this time!"

"That's nice, love," Molly said, patting him on the shoulder and leading him out to the kitchen. "Now why don't you sit down and have a nice cup of hot chocolate before you start on the tree..."

Ron wandered into the living room then, wearing one of the homeliest Weasley jumpers to have ever come into existence, and dragging a very abused stuffed hippogriff along beside him. Bill's face lit up when he saw him.

"Psst, Ron!" he whispered, and Ron regarded him warily. At five, he'd already learned the importance of caution with a little help from his five older brothers and their many pranks, most of which involved him being the butt end of their joke.

"What do you want?" Ron asked slowly without coming any closer to Bill. Despite the fact that it didn't look as though Bill was really capable of moving, what with the blanket that had apparently attacked him, Ron knew better than to assume Bill was harmless. And besides, there was a malicious glint in Charlie's left eye, the only one that was currently viewable.

"C'mon, Ron, we're pals, right?" Bill said, and all of Ron's defenses immediately popped into place. Nothing good ever followed a line like that. Bill noticed this and hurried to continue. "Look, I promise I'm not going to do anything to you! Just help me get out of this bloody afgahn, okay? I've got better things to do than sit around in the living room all night like a human caterpillar."

"Well..." Ron trailed off, thinking about it. "What's in it for me?"

Charlie laughed. "That's our boy!"

Bill shot him another threatening glare. "Jeez, pretty demanding for a little tyke, aren'tcha? Fine. I've got some jelly flobberworms upstairs. You can have some of those if you get me out of here."

Ron considered this. "I want the whole bag."

"What?" Bill blanched, and Charlie started laughing again. "You can't have the whole sodding bag!"

"You heard the kid!" Charlie crowed. Bill growled at him.

"Shut it!" he snapped, then turned back to Ron, who was staring back at him challengingly. "All right you snot, you can have the whole bag."

"You promise?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just get rid of this blanket before I change my mind."

Ron dropped his hippogriff and hurried to undo the tightly wrapped afgahn. It was no easy task, but eventually Ron had managed to loosen Bill enough so that he could wriggle his way free. With a brief, conspiratory glance toward the kitchen, Bill hurried to the staircase and freedom, with Ron quick to follow.

As soon as they got upstairs, Bill ducked into his room and promptly shut the door in Ron's face.

"Hey!" Ron yelled indignantly. Tears of anger began to well in his eyes, and he pounded a small fist against the door. "You promised!"

"So maybe I lied," Bill's muffled voice informed him from the other side of the door. "Now bugger off!"

"No! Gimme my worms!"

A door further down the hall opened, and Ginny poked her head out. "Wassa matter, Ron?"

"Bill won't give me my jelly flobberworms," Ron fumed. "He promised to give me the whole bag and now he won't!"

"That's right!" Bill agreed. "So stop shouting in the hall and sod off!"

Pouting, Ron aimed one furious kick at Bill's door, yelped in pain, and hobbled off down the hallway toward the room he was currently sharing with Ginny. Ginny had already returned to the tea party she was having with her dolls, and she looked up as Ron wandered in morosely.

"You can play with me if you want to," she told him, curteously knocking aside her stuffed unicorn so that he would have a place at the "table", which was actually an upside down box. Ron sniffled; a boy just couldn't get any more pathetic than that.

"Just lemme alone," he grumbled, flopping down on his bed and throwing his hippogriff into a corner.

Ginny pursed her lips in annoyance. "Fine. I didn't really want to play with you, anyway."

Ron just sighed.

Huey, the Hippogriff, was staring at him. Reproachfully.

Ron tried to ignore him.

Huey continued to stare at him.

Ron fidgeted.

"Bloody hippogriff," he muttered in annoyance, then crawled off his bed to retrieve the fallen animal. He placed Huey on his spot on the bed and patted him gently. "I'm sorry, Huey. I guess I was just mad. I didn't mean it."

Huey said nothing.

"Who're you talking to?" Ginny asked, looking confused.

Ron blushed. "Nobody. Nevermind."

She shrugged and glanced toward the window. "D'you think it'll snow again? Daddy said that it wouldn't 'cos it was too hot out, but I think it will."

"Well, Mum said it would," Ron answered, even though he didn't really care either way. Right now all he really wanted were some flobberworms. Stupid Bill.

Ginny nodded knowingly. "Oh, well, if Mum said so..."

Just then a loud explosion rocked the house, and Ginny's tea cups were scattered across the floor messily. Ron and Ginny shared an all suffering look. Their door swung open and George stuck his head in; his face was completely covered in soot, and his red hair was standing on end so that he rather looked like a piece of charcoal that'd caught fire.

"Have either of you seen Scabbers?" he asked breathlessly.

"He was in the kitchen this morning," Ginny told him. George rolled his eyes.

"I meant just now--"

"Nevermind, George!" Fred shouted from somewhere down the hall. "I just spotted the little bugger! He's making for the toilet. Bloody hell, Scabbers, don't do it! Think about all you've got to live for!"

There was a loud splash, and Fred said quite a few words that Ron still didn't know but he sure heard often enough.

The door slammed shut again and George was gone. Ron stared blankly after him, wondering whether or not he ought to go see if Scabbers had actually made the plunge. He figured that it probably wasn't worth all the trouble that would undoubtedly follow when he ran into the twins. Gathering up Huey, he decided he'd go back downstairs and try to get a cup of cocoa out of his mum.

"Where are you going?" Ginny asked as he picked his way through the mess of tea party accessories.

"To the kitchen," he replied. "I want some cocoa."

"Mmm, me too!" Ginny said. She dropped the unicorn again. "I'm coming, too!"

"Okay, whatever," Ron grumbled. This was not turning out to be a very good day for him at all. He didn't get to help pick out the tree, Mum wouldn't let him near all the cookies she was baking, and this bloody jumper was really bloody itchy. And here he thought that Christmas Eve was supposed to be fun.

"I demand to know how this happened!" Percy was yelling, as they left their room. Fred and George were standing in the middle of a very large pool of water, which was slowly seeping out of the bathroom into Percy's bedroom, and they were holding a very bedraggled and struggling Scabbers. Neither of them looked much better than the rat did, but at least the soot was gone from George's face.

"It was an accident, Perce," Fred answered.

"It was all done in the name of love," George said.

"You wouldn't have wanted old Scabbers here to have drowned, now would you?" Fred added.

"The poor thing," George put in, shaking his head sadly. He attempted to pat Scabbers' head in comfort when the rat lunged for his finger and bit him. "Ow! You beast!"

Percy was getting increasingly flustered as the water continued to work its way into his room. He was the prissiest nine year old Ron had ever known, Ron was sure of it. "I don't care about that stupid animal, I just want to know what it is you thought you were doing! Do you see what you've done? This is just disgusting! Ugh, it's getting all over my floor!"

Fred hurried to retrieve some towels from the bathroom while George tried to placate Percy. "Don't worry about it, Perce, we'll have this taken care of in no time..."

"No you won't!" Percy said, angrily shoving his glasses further up his nose. "You're just making it worse. I'm going to get Mum."

Fred and George both stopped what they were doing and got very quiet. From his vantage point at his doorway, Ron could see that this was a Very Bad Sign. The twins might be dangerous on a regular basis, but they were downright scary when they were serious.

"No you're not." George said, very quietly. Even Percy looked a little intimidated.

"You're just going to go back into your room--" Fred continued.

"And read your book--"

"While we clean this up," Fred finished.

Percy looked back and forth between them uncertainly. Finally, he cleared his throat pompously and replied, "Don't you tell me what to do, Fred and George Weasley. Now you two step aside so I can go get Mum to take care of this."

Ron knew trouble when he saw it, and this was Trouble with a capital T. Cautiously, he made his way to the stairs while Ginny tiptoed along behind him, shooting wide-eyed glances over her shoulder at the altercation taking place down the hall. They had just about made it to the stairs when Bill's door shot open and nearly clocked Ron full in the face for the second time that evening.

"What the hell's going on out here?!" he demanded, taking in what would have been an odd scene in any other house than theirs. Fred and George, both of them sopping wet, were attempting to hogtie Percy with a mauve towel, while Ron, Ginny and Huey were frozen in their escape to the stairs. He glared around at everyone. "If you don't mind, I'm trying to write a letter to my friend, and I can't bloody well do that with the lot of you charging around the hallway bellowing at each other!"

"Let me guess," George drawled.

"Could this anonymous friend of yours possibly be---"

"Eric?" George asked, sharing a smug look with Fred.

Bill colored instantly. "That's none of your business!"

Strains of "Bill and Eric sitting in a tree, K - I - S - S - I - N - G..." echoed up the stairs and Bill snapped.

"That's it! I've had it with you, Charlie!"

Bill took off down the stairs, and not ones to miss a good brawl, or a chance to be the first to tell Mum, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George and Percy all rushed down after him. The result was something of a red-headed herd thundering down the staircase, and the portraits hanging on the walls there all cried aloud in dismay as some of them were knocked loose from their lodgings and summarily trampled.

The scene in the living room was none too pretty when Ron and Ginny arrived at the end of the pack. Charlie, who was still incapable of movement due to his good friend, the blanket, was screaming for help while Bill kicked him around the room and crashed him into various pieces of furniture. Naturally it didn't take long before Molly turned up, red-faced and horror struck at the antics of her children. Percy looked a little put-off that she'd arrived before he'd had a chance to inform her of the situation, and he sulked moodily by the door.

"What on earth are you doing?!" Molly bellowed, and all movement ceased immediately. Charlie let out an audible sigh of relief, as he was uncomfortably close to the hearth. Molly looked around at them all in rage. "Bill! You are more than old enough to know better than this! Attacking your own brother? I've had more than I can stand of your arguing, all of you! There'll be no presents or cake or anything until you've all had time to think about this. And I expect apologies!"

There was a sullen chorus of "Yes, Mums" and a few half-hearted protestations (mostly from Ron, who hadn't actually done anything wrong and Percy, who wasn't actually capable of doing anything wrong). Ginny remained silent, even though she was just as innocent as Ron was this time. They were all instructed to sit down in various corners around the room and think about all that had happened, which Ron was certain he'd probably be doing whether Molly had asked him to or not. After all, he hadn't done anything and thus he had the right to complain if he wanted to, which, given Molly's mood, he didn't, really.

Huey, the traitor, didn't offer him any consolonces on the matter.

It was at this point that Molly noticed the sodden, mussed state of Fred, George and Percy, who were dripping all over the floor she had just cleaned for the second time after Arthur's arrival. With a harpie-esque screech, the twins and Percy were led up the stairs by Molly, whose howls over the condition of her bathroom and hallway could be heard throughout the neighborhood and shook the crooked walls of the Burrow.

Arthur strolled over to where Ron was sitting, and for a moment Ron thought that perhaps his father had realized that Ron was perfectly innocent, and as an apology for making him sit in the corner, was going to make him a big cup of cocoa, complete with marshmallows. Ron hugged Huey to his chest and tried not to grin too obviously as Arthur approached, already practicing what he would say in his mind.

"It's okay, Dad," he would say, "I didn't really mind sitting in the corner for no reason. Sure, Dad, I'd love a cup of co--"

It was just as Ron was processing this thought that Arthur stopped before him, leaned forward, and began to fiddle with the thermometer placed directly above Ron's head.

Ron just about broke down into tears.

It was so unfair! He hadn't done anything wrong at all. All he'd wanted was a nice cup of cocoa, and maybe a marshmallow or two. Certainly that wasn't asking much, was it? But his mum and dad didn't care and Bill wouldn't give him his jelly worms like he'd promised, and Huey still wasn't speaking to him and he really hated this stupid itchy jumper!

"Argh!" Ron wailed, burying his head in Huey's side. A moment later he felt his dad's large hand on his shoulder.

"Ron?" Arthur asked. "What's the matter? You haven't got a cough, have you?"

Ron just sighed. "Nnnph."

"What's that?"

Ron removed his mouth from Huey's ribs and said again, "No."

Arthur blinked. "Oh. Well, that's good then."

And he stood back up and continued to prod the thermometer. Ginny crawled over from her corner then, and Ron shot a nervous look at the staircase. He could still hear Molly stomping about upstairs and yelling, so he assumed that the coast was clear for the moment, at least.

"What're you doing, Daddy?" Ginny asked as she settled down next to Ron.

"I'm trying to fix this thermometer, dear," Arthur answered her. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and tapped it against the side of the thermometer while whispering a spell. There was a flash of yellow light and a funny honking noise that made Ginny giggle, and left Arthur frowning in bemusement. "I just can't seem to get this thing to work right. I'm sure I'm doing the spell correctly, but the thermometer still reads twenty-five degrees, which just can't be right."

Ginny stood up and pulled on his sleeve. "Can I see?"

He smiled, probably happy that someone was actually interested for once. "Of course you can, sweetie."

He lifted Ginny up and she leaned in close to get a good look at the thermometer. There was a long moment of silence while Ginny stared at it and Arthur and Ron waited for something to happen. Finally, she pulled back, nodding solemnly.

"I thought so," she announced, talking more to herself than to anyone else. Arthur blinked again.

"What is it?"

Ginny regarded him seriously. "It's the thermometer, Daddy. It's lonely."

"Lonely?" Arthur parroted. "What d'you mean?"

Ron shook his head. "Don't be silly, Ginny. Thermometers can't get lonely. They're not even enchanted."

Ginny glared at him. "Yeah huh!"

He glared back. "Nah huh!"

"Yeah huh!"

"Nah huh!"

"Yea--"

"Kids!" Arthur interrupted. He looked a little annoyed, Ron thought. "Now, Ron, Ginny might be right, you know. This isn't an ordinary thermometer. This one is special. That's why you don't tell any of Daddy's friends at the Ministry about it, remember?"

Ron and Ginny nodded. Ginny looked rather smug.

"I don't know if it really is lonely," Arthur continued, "but it certainly could be."

"Well, so what if it is?" Ron asked grumpily. "It's just a stupid thermometer anyway."

Ginny gasped. "You're so mean, Ron!"

Ron puffed up indignantly. "What? I am not!"

"Yes you are!" Ginny retorted. Her little face was contorted in a frown, and she'd crossed her arms across her chest angrily. "You've hurt the thermometer's feelings!"

"Now, now, children," Arthur said placatingly. "It's nothing to argue about. I'm sure Ron didn't really mean what he said, Ginny. Right, Ron?"

"Oh I meant it, all right. I hate that dumb thermometer."

"Daddy!"

"Ron, that was very upsetting, very upsetting indeed. You've gone and distressed your sister," Arthur said in as stern a voice as he could muster. Ron felt angry tears well up in his eyes. "I suggest you apologize to her."

"And the thermometer!" Ginny added. "He should say sorry to the thermometer, too."

Ron shot her a nasty glare.

"Oh, all right, dear, all right," Arthur agreed readily. He never seemed to be able to deal well with Ginny when she was upset. "Well, now Ron, let's hear it."

Ron inhaled sharply. This was so unfair. He shouldn't have to apologize to anybody, and certainly not some thermometer. "Fine. ...I'm sorry."

"Much better, Ron, thank you," Arthur said, patting Ron's head fondly as Ron continued to sulk. He stood up and turned to Bill and Charlie, who were currently engaged in a peanut throwing war on opposite couches. "Now, I believe we have a tree to bring in and decorate, right boys?"

Bill momentarily looked away from Charlie in order to answer Arthur, and Charlie took the opportunity to chuck a peanut at Bill's left eye. Leaping from the couch with a roar and cupping his injured eye, Bill charged after Charlie who took off toward the kitchen.

Arthur sighed. Fred, George and Percy were still upstairs with Molly, and if the explosions and screams were anything to go by, they wouldn't be back for some time. Arthur grabbed his cloak from a rack by the front door. "Looks like it'll just be me, then."

"Um, Dad...?" Ron asked hesitantly. He pinned hopeful blue eyes on Arthur. "Maybe I could help you?"

Arthur chuckled. "Oh no, you stay in here where it's nice and warm, Ron. This tree business is a bit tricky, you know. You'll understand when you're older. I'm sure you can help decorate once I've got the tree all set up, though."

He opened the door, stepped out into the darkness beyond, and closed the door again. Ron slumped down to the floor. This Christmas was just horrible. Nothing was going right at all, and now he couldn't even help his dad with their tree just because he wasn't big enough. Instead, he was stuck inside with Ginny. They'd probably end up having a tea party before the night was through. Ron buried his face in Huey as hot tears streaked down his cheaks.

"Oh, bollocks," he sighed.

"Ron?" Ginny whispered. She leaned in close, trying to get a look at his face. "Are you okay?"

When she received no answer, Ginny bit her lip and continued. "You can play with me, if you want. Maybe we could have a tea--"

Ron jumped up, dislodging Ginny who tumbled over backwards in surprise, and tossed Huey across the room. "No, I don't want to have a bloody tea party with you! I'm a boy! I want to cut down trees and go to school and play quidditch and I hate being little!"

There was a long pause, filled with angry shouts and pots banging in the kitchen, while Ron wiped his red face clean of tears and Ginny's expression went from shocked to concerned to... disgusted? Ron did a double take. Ginny had scrunched up her nose and her brows were drawn together in a frown as she glanced around the room, sniffing.

"Now what are you doing?" Ron asked, certain that his little sister was off her rocker.

But Ginny just continued to sniff the air around them. "Do you smell that?"

Now that she mentioned it, Ron could smell something. It was a rather bad odor, like something burning...

It was then that Ron looked toward the fireplace, and let out a scream of utter horror.

There, wrapped in hot, devouring flames beside the yule log, was Huey, the hippogriff.

"Huey!" Ron shouted, and the banging and crashing in the kitchen and upstairs in the hall stopped for a moment. Ron dashed across the living room, and probably would've thrust his bare hands into the fire in order to retrieve Huey had Ginny not yanked him back at the last minute.

"Huey!" Ron cried. He struggled against Ginny, who was surprisingly strong for a four year old girl. There was a loud pop from the fire and one of Huey's glass eyes flew off. Ron wailed. "We've got to save him! Oh, Huey, I'm so sorry!"

Molly came rushing into the living room then, followed by the twins and Percy, and even Charlie and Bill stumbled out of the kitchen in a state of extreme disarray.

"What in Merlin's name is going on down here?" Molly demanded.

"Mum!" Ron had never been so glad to see his mother in his whole life. She would know what to do! "Mum, it's Huey! He's in the fire, you've got to help him!"

Molly hurried over, grabbing a poker from its spot beside the fireplace. Ginny was hanging back, watching the whole ordeal with concern, while Ron's gaze was glued to Huey, burning like a giant marshmallow in the flames. The poker plunged into the fire and knocked Huey off one of the logs. He tumbled to the back of the hearth, where he lay, charred, amongst the ashes. Molly pulled out her wand and put out the fire. Then, very cautiously, she removed Huey with a pair of tongs and swept off into the kitchen with him.

Ron dropped down onto the floor, sobbing and mumbling a desperate litany of apologies. "Oh, Huey, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, it was an accident, I swear, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry I was so mean to you, Huey, oh please let him be okay..."

"Hey, I'm sure Mum'll fix him up right away, Ronniekins," Fred told him, patting his shoulder in a comforting gesture and leaving behind a large wet spot on his jumper.

George nodded beside him. "He'll be right as rain, I'm sure of it. That Mum, she may seem like a bit of a wacko, but she comes through when you need her."

"Yeah, don't worry about it," Charlie said. "Even if they can't fix him, they can always buy a new one, y'know?"

"I'm sure it can't be all that bad, Ron," Percy added. "There are probably plenty of spells she can use to fix it. And I'm sure it's only time you stopped playing with toys anyhow. You're almost six, remember?"

Charlie tried to send Percy a dirty look on Ron's behalf, but the flour that was covering half of his face made him sneeze. Ron did appreciate the sentiment, though.

Bill scuffed his sock-clad foot against the floor, looking oddly young for a fifth year. "I would give you some of those jelly flobberworms, but I, uh, already ate them all... Sorry, Ron..."

Ron had been upset enough over the whole Huey incident without Bill bringing up the worm thing. Furious, he leapt up, kicked Bill in the shin and ran off into the kitchen.

"Ow!" He could hear Bill shouting in the next room. "You punk! You see how he is? I won't be offering you anything again any time soon, kid!"

"Geez, Bill!" came George's disgusted voice. "You've got a heart of ice!"

"I know someone who'll be getting a lump of coal in their stocking this year..." Fred added in his fake "Molly" voice.

"Just shut it, will you?"

The kitchen was a complete mess when Ron arrived, and Molly seemed to be more concerned with the state of her half-finished cookies than she was with Huey's remains. Ron sniffled and tried to avoid a large puddle of melted butter on the floor as he made his way to the counter where Huey lay. Because the counter was rather tall, and Ron was rather not tall, he could see very little of his hippogriff. There was only one fuzzy, black leg visible to him, and it looked more like a giant spider than any part of Huey.

Ron felt tears begin to well in his eyes again, and he rubbed at them with the back of his sleeve and sniffed loudly. This caught Molly's attention and she turned away from her cookies to spare Ron a very sympathetic look.

"Oh, Ron," Molly sighed. She kneeled down beside him and wrapped him up in a warm hug. Ron would've been grateful, had her apron not been covered in baking ingredients. Molly stroked his back gently. "There, there, dear. I'm sure Huey will be just fine. How would you like some cookies and hot cocoa? Hmm? Would that be nice?"

Ron nodded mutely. He would finally get his cocoa... but it just wouldn't be the same, now that Huey was... was... He sniffed again and Molly handed him a handkerchief.

"Now you just go have a seat and I'll bring it out to you, love."

With one last sad glance at Huey's charred leg, Ron shuffled out to the living room with Molly's now soggy handkerchief in hand. Most of the other Weasley children had disappeared, presumably to help Arthur bring in the Christmas tree, since they were so much older and bigger than Ron was... Feeling a bit huffy on top of everything else, Ron took a seat in an old blue armchair in the corner by the front window, so that he wouldn't have to watch his brothers having fun outside with the tree.

Molly came in after a few minutes with a tray of cookies and a steaming mug of cocoa, complete with marshmallows. She even went so far as to bring him an afgahn, the very same that had trapped Bill earlier, although fortunately she merely draped it over his lap. If there was one thing Ron knew his mum was good at, it was making you feel better when you were sad.

After she had gone, Ron found himself alone. It was a very lonely sort of alone, which is the only excuse he could offer himself for what happened next. The cookies and cocoa didn't last very long, so once Ron had finished them and no longer had anything to distract himself with, he was very aware of the unusual quiet that had settled over the Burrow. He could still hear Molly bustling around in the kitchen and humming a Christmas carol, and outside were the faint noises of his father and brothers struggling with the tree in the midst of what sounded like a snowball fight. The lack of raised voices and explosions was highly unsettling. Ron couldn't help feeling very lonely without even Huey to keep him company.

And this was why, with no one else to talk to, Ron turned to the only other thing in the room he could think of for comfort: the thermometer.

Leaning over the arm of the chair he was sitting in, Ron eyed the thermometer cautiously. When, after several long, tense moments, nothing unusual happened, he felt that perhaps it might be safe to talk to.

"Er," Ron began, feeling a little foolish but too young to really mind, "Look, Thermometer. I'm sorry I called you stupid earlier. I don't really hate you."

The thermometer regarded him silently.

"I mean, I'm sure you're a very nice thermometer," Ron continued. "And I'm sorry you're lonely and all. I guess I'm kinda lonely, too."

Ron thought the thermometer took this revelation quite well.

"Sure, there are lots of people here, but they're all big, and I'm not." Ron paused and frowned at something. "Well, so what about Ginny? Are you saying that I should play with a girl?"

The thermometer wisely choose not to comment.

"Listen, you, I'm a boy. I don't want to have dumb tea parties or play dress up or anything like that." Ron stopped to take a bite of one of the remaining cookies. "What? Don't be silly. Girls don't like quidditch. Oh, sod off. You really are daft, aren't you, Thermometer?"

There was a long, hurt silence from the thermometer. Ron sighed.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. You're not daft. Well, maybe a little bit. But I don't want to play with Ginny. I want to get to do fun stuff, like Fred and George and Percy and Bill and Charlie all get to do. Er, maybe not Percy, since he's duller than a pile of sawdust, but you know what I mean. Dad won't even let me help them with the tree, you know."

Ron sat up straighter, glaring at nothing in particular. "I'm not that small, am I? I can help, too. I don't wanna wait till I'm older. I wanna help now. It's so unfair..."

He trailed off, and, not having earned much of a response from the thermometer, who was a weather reading instrument of few words, he decided that it was all really quite hopeless anyway. What was the point? Feeling a bit depressed, Ron curled up in the chair and pulled the afgahn over his head.

He was just starting to drift off like this when he felt someone tapping insistently on his back. Popping out from under the blanket, Ron discovered Ginny standing before him, watching him with a strange knowing glint in her eyes that rather gave him the willies.

"What do you want, Ginny?"

She smiled. "D'you want to play with me, Ron?"

He groaned. Not this again... "No, I told you already, I don't like tea parties..."

"Not a tea party. I have another idea." When Ron just looked at her dubiously, she put her hands on her hips and glared. "It's not dress up either, Ron. C'mon. Please?"

"Oh, fine, but it better not be anything girly," Ron grumbled as he climbed out of his afgahn cocoon on the armchair. She headed for the staircase quickly, and Ron just trudged along behind her at a snail's pace.

Ginny grabbed his hand and tugged him along in annoyance. "C'mon, Ron, we have to hurry!"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming..."

Once they'd made it upstairs, Ron started to head to their room when Ginny stopped in front of Bill's door. He shot her a curious look but she just giggled and pressed a finger to her lips. They slipped inside Bill's room, which was a humungous mess. There were clothes and dirty dishes and Merlin only knew what else scattered all over the floor, so the two youngest Weasleys were forced to move slowly as they picked their way through.

Ginny paused at the desk, staring at the incomprensible letters scribbled across one long sheet of parchment. She motioned for Ron to have a look, so he peered down at it.

"Can you read it?" Ginny asked. Ron nodded.

"That's a, um, "d", and that's "e" and then "a"..."

Ginny scowled. "But what does it say?"

"I don't know!"

"Then howcome you said you did?"

"Well, you never said I had to know whole words..."

Ginny giggled. "Look at all the hearts on the bottom."

Ron snickered. "Maybe Charlie's right."

"C'mon, we haven't got much time." Ginny abandoned the desk and headed towards a trunk in the corner, which Ron knew was the one that Bill used to bring his things back and forth from Hogwarts. Ginny giggled again as she kneeled down in front of it and inched the trunk's lid open. It creaked loudly as it opened, and they both shot nervous glances at the hall, which remained empty and quiet.

"What d'you think that is?" Ginny asked, pointing to a vial filled with a lumpy green mixture.

Ron shrugged. "How should I know?"

Ginny gasped. "Maybe it's poison!"

He rolled his eyes. "Bill's not that cool."

"Hmm, I guess you're right," Ginny agreed, sounding disappointed. She dug around in the trunk for a moment or two, pinching her nose from time to time when particularly bad smells wafted up from a pile of dirty laundry. At last she discovered what she was looking for. With a triumphant, "Aha!", Ginny pulled free a very old, very worn red Quaffle. Ron's eyes lit up with glee.

Ginny grinned. "Let's play quidditch!"

"But, I thought girls didn't like quidditch," Ron protested. Ginny looked smug.

"That's because you're a dumb boy, Ron."

"Hey!"

Ginny tucked the quaffle under her arm and ran out of the room with it, laughing. Ron followed, and they hurried into their own room and shut the door securely behind them.

"Okay," Ginny said importantly. "I'm going to be the Chaser, and you can be the Keeper. Those pillows can be the goals."

Ron nodded and positioned himself on the bed in front of the pillows. "You don't get to come on the bed though, because its off limits to Chasers."

Ginny frowned. "Oh, fine."

With a quick glance at her target, Ginny chucked the quaffle towards the pillows. Ron jumped and caught it easilly. He laughed victoriously, and Ginny pouted. He threw it back to her and stuck out his tongue.

"C'mon, watcha waiting for?" he taunted. "I bet you're just afraid. See, girls aren't s'posed to play quidditch, dummy-"

She bit her lip, concentrating on the pillows, drew her arm back, and then threw the quaffle with all her strength directly at Ron. It him dead center on the nose and knocked him off his feet. With a cry, Ron landed amidst the pillows, cupping his nose in pain as blood streamed down into his hands. Ginny gasped in shock.

"Oops," she whispered. "Ron, are you okay? I'm sorry, Ron, I didn't mean to break your face. It was an accident!"

Ron glared at her. "I'b not playing wid you anybore."

Ginny sniffed. "I'm sorry!"

"Be too!" Ron shouted. He jumped off the bed and ran downstairs, while Ginny followed along behind him, crying and yelling desperate apologies.

Arthur and the older Weasley boys had the tree halfway through the doorway when Ron and Ginny ran into the living room, and Arthur and Bill, the only two inside, had only time for a shared look of surprise before the two had disappeared into the kitchen.

Ron skidded to a halt in the kitchen, staring aghast at the dark form Molly held in her hands. She jumped at the sight of Ron, who was staring at her wide-eyed with blood all over his face and arms. Dropping the black lump to the floor, Molly rushed forward to see what was wrong, but Ron was still rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on the thing Molly had dropped.

"Ron, love, what on earth happened to you?" Molly cried. She frowned when he didn't seem to notice her. "Ron, what's the ma--"

She trailed off when she realized what Ron was looking at. "Oh, ah, just never mind that, dear..."

"Huey?" Ron breathed. He moved away from Molly, who was watching him with concern, and walked slowly across the kitchen to where the dark lump had fallen. There he was, even worse than he had been before, lying at Ron's feet. Huey stared up at him with his single glass eye, his dark, matted fur half crumbling onto the kitchen floor. One leg was clearly missing, and another hanging on only by a thread.

A splash of red blood on the floor reminded him of why he had come down here in the first place, and Ron turned back to Molly, pointing to his nose and crying.

"Shh, there now, let me see what happened," Molly said softly as she pried Ron's hands away from his face. She slipped her wand out of her pocket and whispered a spell. There was a cool feeling on his face like running water and then the blood was gone. "Well, I don't think it's broken, dear, just a bloody nose is all. Let me get a potion real quick, Ron, you go sit down."

Ron glanced over at Huey. "But Mum, what about... what about Huey? What happened to him?"

She sighed. "I was trying to fix him up with a spell, but I'm afraid it didn't work the way I'd hoped it would. But don't you worry about that, I'll have him fixed before the night is over, I promise."

He nodded, still more than a little disturbed over the state he'd found Huey in. He began to head back out into the living room, planning to return to the blue armchair, but the tree had taken up most of the room by the front door, so he sat down on one of the couches instead. Ginny sat down next to him a few minutes later.

"I'm really, really, really, sorry Ron," she whispered, wringing her hands guiltily. Ron sniffed. "I wasn't trying to hit you, I swear."

Molly bustled in with a jar of foul smelling ointment. "What's this I hear? I want to hear the whole story, you two. What happened?"

"It was an accident, Mum!" Ginny said hurriedly. "We were playing quidditch and I accidentally hit Ron in the nose with the quaffle."

Molly frowned. "What quaffle?"

"Oh, um, er." Ginny mumbled something under breath quickly.

"What was that, dear?"

Ron went cross eyed as Molly spread the ointment over his nose and he tried to glare in Ginny's direction. "It was all her fault, Mum. She did it."

"I was being nice!" Ginny fumed.

"It's not very nice to hit someone in the nose, though, is it?"

"I didn't mean to!"

"Hush, both of you!" Molly commanded, and they both fell silent. There was a loud banging sound from the door, and one of the twins howled with what sounded like pain. Molly shot them a sharp look and Arthur shrugged sheepishly. "I want to hear the truth. Where did you get the quaffle?"

"It was Bill's," Ginny admitted.

"Mine?" Bill demanded from the door. He dropped the portion of tree he had been holding, and several people outside shouted angrily. "What d'you mean you took my quaffle? That was in my school trunk!"

Ginny nodded.

"Ooh, so this is what I get for helping out with the bloody tree, is it?" Bill complained. "Now I've got Ron's blood all over my lucky quaffle!"

"Gee, thanks," Ron grumbled.

"I think Bill deserves an apology," Molly said sternly. "You both know better than to go through other people's things. Not to mention stealing! If you want to play quidditch that's fine, but next time you do it outside, with permission!"

They both nodded quietly.

"Sorry," Ginny said, looking over at Bill.

"Sorry," Ron agreed.

Bill sighed. "Oh fine, it's all right. Just ask next time, will you?"

They nodded again.

Molly swabbed another glob of ointment across Ron's nose and he squirmed.

"Okay, okay, no more!" Ron pleaded. "I can't breathe!"

"Oh hush, you're fine," Molly said. "If you want your nose to feel better, than I suggest you get used to it."

There was a thundering crash and Arthur, the older boys and the tree all hurtled into the living room. One branch managed to catch Molly in the face and she tumbled over onto her back on the floor. Arthur ended up pinned against the wall, while Bill disappeared entirely beneath the tree.

Shaking with rage, Molly picked herself up off the floor. "Arthur Weasley! What do you think you're doing?!"

Arthur's face went white with fear. "The tree was lodged in the doorway, love, it just sort of all came through at once just now..."

"You'll destroy the entire house at this rate!" Molly shouted. "Look at this mess! And you've broken my nice lamp!"

"Now, dear, we don't know that it's broken. We may still be able to fix it, you know..."

Ron remembered how Huey had looked after they tried to fix him, and he felt rather sorry for the lamp.

"Could someone help me, please?" came Bill's voice from beneath the tree. "I think I may be suffocating..."

"See what you've done to Bill? Well, help him up already!"

Arthur nodded vigorously. "Of course, dear, right away. Okay boys, on the count of three, one, two--"

The twins, Percy and Charlie, who'd only just made it into the house during the recent crash, all heaved too soon and the tree shot forward, bowling over Arthur and knocking one of the paintings off the wall, which hit the floor with a shatter of glass. Molly shrieked, as did Bill, since the painting had only just missed his face by several inches.

"Bill screams like a little girl!" Charlie crowed between laughs. He and the twins were so busy snickering that Bill's barrage of pine cones took them entirely by surprise.

"Stop that!" Percy cried, trying to hide behind George, who shot him a despairing look. "Mum!"

"Eeek!" Fred screamed in a high pitched falsetto, fluttering his hands flamboyantly. "Oh help me, I've fallen down and I can't get up!"

George puffed himself up with fake bravado. "Don't worry, Bill, dear, I'll save you!"

"SHUT IT!"

Fred and George stuck out their tongues simultaneously and blew rasberries in Bill's direction.

"You two are so juvenile," Percy muttered.

Arthur, who had struggled up some time ago, was cowering while Molly continued to chew him out over the condition of her living room. Ron and Ginny, with front row seats on the couch, were largely enjoying themselves as they took in the chaos raging around them.

"This is even better than last year," Ginny confided to Ron in a stage whisper. Ron nodded enthusiastically.

"Wish I had some popcorn."

Charlie had returned to the scene after momentarily disappearing, his arms full of snowballs which he and the twins began launching at a loudly protesting Bill. Ron had to admit, his screams were pretty girly.

It was a good twenty minutes before things had settled down again. After restoring order, Molly set the twins and Charlie to cleaning up the mess they had made with the snowballs, while she went about fixing the broken painting and lamp. Ron was happy to see that they fared better than Huey had. Meanwhile, Arthur, Bill and Percy began the attempt to put the tree into its stand.

"Bill, stop it, you're getting water all over me!" Percy snapped. "I told you you shouldn't put the water in yet! Stop twisting it around like that!"

"You're the one who said we had the tree in crooked," Bill retorted.

"Well, it is!"

"I hate to break it to you Percy, but it's the bloody trunk that's crooked," Bill said sarcastically.

"What's the matter Bill?" Fred asked seriously.

George placed a hand on Bill's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "Is that big bad tree bothering you again?"

"GO AWAY!"

"Now, boys, let's all just try to get along," Arthur pleaded. The twins snickered and returned to scooping up clumps of snow.

Ron climbed off the couch and went to see what they were doing with the tree. Percy was trying to screw it into the stand, but rather than slide under the branches as was necessary, he was attempting to do it by hovering beside the tree with his face pressed into its branches. Needless to say, this wasn't working very well. Arthur and Bill were holding it up as he did this, and trying to make it as straight as a crooked evergreen could be.

Ron tugged on Arthur's sleeve. "Hey, Dad, can I help? Let me do it."

Arthur laughed and tousled his hair. "Oh, you don't have to help us, Ron, I think we'll manage on our own. Wouldn't want you to get hurt, now would we?"

Ron ground his teeth. "But I can do it!"

"Ron," Arthur began, turning to face Ron so that he could better explain to him why Ron was too little to help. However, as he did this, he let go of the tree, and with a groan, it began to lurch forward. Ron shot an anxious glance behind him; there was Ginny, playing with the tinsel, and Molly trying to fix the now purple lamp, and the twins and Charlie... If someone didn't stop this tree, it would smoosh everyone!

Suddenly everything was happening in slow motion. Bill let out a shout as he lost his grip, Percy drew in a sharp breath and tried to jump out of the way, Arthur's eyes widened in shock... and Ron leapt forward and slid under the tree, wrapping his arms as tightly around the trunk as he could. He could feel it begin to tip, and then just as suddenly, it stopped. Bill managed to regain his hold on it, and Arthur pushed it upright again.

Ron let out a sigh of relief.

"Arthur!" Molly yelled. "What are you doing with that tree?"

Arthur looked down at Ron, who was still wrapped tightly around the bottom of the tree, too afraid to let go. "Ron?" he asked. A smile lit Arthur's face. "Brilliant catch, Ron! I think you've saved us all!"

Ron stared up at his father for a long moment, then a wide grin spread across his face. "Now can I help?"

Arthur laughed. "Well, I don't see why not!"

With a laugh of delight, Ron began to screw the tree into place.

"Wait a minute!" Percy protested. "Not yet! It's still leaning to the left!"

"Oh, leave him be, Perce," Bill said.

Ron just smiled. It was turning out to be an okay Christmas Eve after all.

Even the thermometer looked a little cheerier.

******

Christmas Eve had been an extremely hectic day for Ron Weasley, and even though he was excited about waking up tomorrow morning and discovering his presents, he was soundly asleep within minutes after being tucked into bed. So when the door opened later that night, and Molly crept in, Ron never saw a thing.

"Sorry I didn't have this finished earlier, love," Molly whispered as she placed something beside Ron on his bed. She smiled. "Happy Christmas, Ron."

She tiptoed back out of the room, and closed the door behind her.

That night, Ron had been having a very nice dream about saving the whole world from a giant evil Christmas tree, when he smelled something funny. Suddenly, the tree was on fire! The smell of smoke was everywhere! It was awful!

He sat up quickly in bed, panting and drawing in quick breaths. He froze. That smell, from his dream... It was still there. He could smell it!

Ron tried to get out of bed so he could find out what was wrong, but as he was doing so, his hand landed on something hairy and dusty. Looking down slowly, Ron gasped in horror. A black, one eyed furry monster was staring back at him.

He screamed.

The door swung open, and the light from the hallway illuminated Ron's face, wet with tears, as he huddled over by the door. Molly and Arthur looked around the room but couldn't find anything out of place. Ginny had just woken up and was rubbing at her eyes blearily.

"What's the matter, Ron?" Molly asked anxiously.

Ron merely pointed to the bed, his hand shaking.

Molly walked over cautiously, wand drawn, expecting a boggart or something of the sort. However, all she found was Ron's bed, as usual, with a black lump settled in the middle of it.

"But Ron," she said, "the only thing over here is Huey."

Ron shook his head. "That is not Huey."

"But of course it is dear!" Molly sighed. "Enough of this nonsense, into bed with you Ron. Santa won't come if you're still awake, you know!"

"But--!"

"No buts, into bed with you!" Molly had him in bed and securely tucked in before he could attempt another protest. Ron struggled in vain against the blankets, but found that he couldn't move. Molly kissed his forehead, and placed the evil black creature beside him. Its single glass eye watched his every move, and Ron swallowed thickly with fear.

"Goodnight, Ron, Ginny," Molly said, and Arthur echoed her as he slipped out into the hallway. Molly smiled before she closed the door and whispered, "Happy Christmas!"

In the darkness that followed, Ron could just make out a glassy eye, staring at him.

Ron never did get back to sleep that night.

Fin!