Pride

“Is orange your favorite color?” Harry asked him, looking around his Chudley Cannons-themed room. 

“It’s green,” Ron said, yawning. Harry had taken a long time to get to sleep in a new place, so Ron had stayed up late talking to him. “The Cannons are my favorite team, though.”

Harry’s eyes lit up as he watched the players flying through the posters. “Cool!”

“I’ve got to get the eggs for mum,” Ron said, pulling on clothes. “Want to come with?”

Harry followed Ron outside to the garden, looking around at the various magical herbs waving in the early morning breeze. A gnome popped out of the ground, then tried to dig up a turnip. 

“You’ve got to throw them over the fence,” Ron said, grabbing the gnome and vaulting him through the sky. A chubby brown hen clucked nearby.

“Does that hurt them?” Harry asked, watching the gnome’s flight.

“No, it just makes them dizzy. They always come back.”

Harry held the basket as Ron gathered that day’s eggs. 

“Your house is amazing,” Harry said, looking up at the Burrow. “How does it even stay together?”

“Magic,” Ron said, smiling.

“I can’t believe it’s real,” Harry said quietly. “It explains a lot though.”

Ron set the last egg in. “Like what?”

“Well, one time I turned my teacher’s hair blue.”

Ron laughed. “That happens with kids a lot. They do magic by accident when they feel strongly about something. Like making things float, or setting something on fire.”

Harry’s eyes grew wide. “Once I was running away from my cousin, and I ended up on a roof.”

“That’s amazing,” Ron said as they walked back to the house. “That’s sort of like what Bill did last night. Apparition. I think muggles call it teleporting?”

Harry shook his head. Ron had an impulse to brush his hair back, but quickly looked away. “We can try practicing stuff before school starts, so we can learn to do magic on purpose. We technically aren’t supposed to, so don’t tell mum or dad.”

Harry grinned. “Okay.”

Ron’s mum turned to greet them as they entered the kitchen. His dad was reading the Prophet again, this morning right side up. 

“Good morning, boys,” his mum said, wiping her hands on her apron. “Harry, dear, if you could set the eggs on the counter.”

“Is there anything I can help with, Mrs. Weasley?”

“Just Molly, dear,” his mum said, turning back to a sizzling pan. “You can help set the table with Ron, if you’d like.”

“Are those magical cookbooks?” Harry asked, looking at the small bookcase next to the counter. “You can cook with magic?”

Ron’s mum smiled down at him. “Of course, dear. I doubt I could feed this lot without it! I can barely keep up with Ron as is!”

"Mum!"

"Oh, pish posh! I'm sure Harry saw at dinner."

"And heard," Ginny said, sitting next to their dad with a beaten up copy of Seeker Weekly.

“Wow,” Harry said. 

Ron pulled him over to where the dishes and cutlery were kept. “They could set the table with magic,” he whispered, “but they think it builds character if we do it without.”

“Does it?” Harry whispered back, carrying a stack of plates. 

“You’ve met Fred and George, yeah?”

Harry snickered, setting plates at each place. 

There was an explosion upstairs, and Harry dropped a plate.

“Fred! George!” his mum bellowed. “I swear, if you make me come up there!”

“I’m so sorry,” Harry said, bending over the broken plate. “I can…I can fix it!”

Ron’s dad finally paid attention. “What’s that?”

Ron grabbed Harry’s hand before he picked up a sharp piece. “It’s okay, dad can fix it.”

“I’ve done it before,” Harry whispered. “By accident. My uncle didn’t like it.”

“A broken plate?” Ron’s dad said, looking over. He pushed his glasses up and took out his wand. “That’s easily sorted. Reparo.”

The plate reformed, Harry watching in awe. “Wow.”

“You’re going to be saying that a lot, eh?” Ron said, nudging him. 

Harry blushed. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s—” Ron stopped himself from saying cute. “It’s definitely wow. Growing up around it makes you get used to it. We don’t appreciate it as much.”

Harry nodded, taking the plate out of the air and setting it on the table. “Thank you, Mr. Weasley.”

“Just Arthur,” Ron's dad said, turning back to his paper. 

“Breakfast!” Ron’s mum called. Her words were soon followed by a stampede down the stairs. 

“You gotta be quick,” Ron said, pulling out a chair for Harry and setting him in it. “And watch out for the twins, they like pranks. Don’t eat anything they give you.”

“Got it,” Harry said, gaping as a teapot flew across the table, filling cups. 

Bill and Percy came in first, Percy adjusting his new prefect’s badge. 

"Good morning mother, father," Percy said.

"Percy's a bit stuck up," Ron whispered, sliding scrambled eggs onto Harry's plate. "He got an owl for being made prefect. Third in the family."

Harry nodded seriously, staring at the food piling up.

"You can have as much as you want," Ron whispered.

"Good morning, Harry," Bill said, sitting on Harry's other side. "Settling in alright?"

Harry nodded again. "Thank you, for…"

Bill smiled. "Don't mention it. Pass the toast, will you?"

Fred and George piled in, leaving only one chair where Charlie would have sat. There was an empty plate there, which his mum smiled sadly at then put away.

"Good morning, Weasleys!" his dad said, once again made aware of his surroundings.

"Morning, dad," they chorused. Ron snickered at Harry's expression. Ginny smacked George's hand away from her plate.

"Dad works for the Ministry," Ron whispered. "He's the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

"What's a muggle artifact?"

Ron shrugged. "Anything muggles make, really."

"So, you were raised by muggles, Harry?" his dad asked.

Harry straightened his posture. "Yes, sir."

"Tell me, what exactly is the function of a rubber duck?"

Harry looked thrown by the question, eggs falling from his fork. "It's a bath toy, sir."

Ron's dad frowned in contemplation. "I see. And are there more of these…bath toys?"

"Yes, sir. Loads."

Ron watched in fascination as Harry was made to explain the common British muggle infant's bathing habits. He was pleased to see Harry opening up more, though he avoided making eye contact. 

"Remarkable what muggles come up with!" his dad said. The clock chimed. "That's me, then. I'll see you all for dinner!"

"Don't forget your lunch, dear!"

After breakfast, Ron and Harry were roped into de-gnoming the garden, and soon the air was filled with shouting gnomes.

"After this we can go flying," Ron said, whipping a gnome over his head like a lasso.

"Really?" Harry said, smiling brightly.

"Yeah, I have a feeling you'll be a natural."

Harry on a broom was breathtaking. Ron had never seen a more natural flier.

"I didn't know our brooms could do that," George said as Harry shot past them.

"Is this really his first time on a broom?" Fred added.

"We should get Ginny," Ron said. "She likes flying and mum never lets her."

Their mum had gone shopping down at the village, mumbling something about Harry needing new clothes. Harry could afford his own, and Ron was working on a plan to teach Harry he was allowed to spend money on himself. Ron knew from growing up poor how hard it was to part with any money you came into. Harry shouldn't have to worry about that ever again.

The twins dragged a nervous Ginny out, and as soon as they put her on a broom she was in the air, passing the quaffle around with suspicious ease. Harry pulled off an insane dive that set Ron's heart racing. The expression on Harry's face when he pulled out of it just in time was of pure delight.

"You're brilliant!" Ron said, flying over. "I'll bet you'll be seeker on our house team!"

"That's the one that catches the snitch, right?" Harry asked, pushing up his glasses.

Ron nodded. "Can you see well out of those?"

Harry shrugged, ducking as the twins flew overhead. "Not really."

"Mum can take you to a healer at St. Mungo's," Ron said. "They can fix them up."

Harry made an odd expression. "That's the hospital, right?"

"Yeah."

Harry hesitated, then said quietly, "I think that's where my mum is."

Ron moved closer, taking Harry's wrist. Harry looked up at him, his eyes too sad for someone so young.

"We can visit her," he said. "I promise. We'll talk to mum when she gets back."

Harry bit his lip and nodded. "Thanks. For everything. It's strange, but I feel like I've known you forever."

Ron smiled and said, "Me too."

It took a few days for them to get to St. Mungo's. They only had the weekend before Bill left, and their mum was going all out. It seemed like she thought if she threw a good enough going away party it might convince Bill not to go at all.

"It's like she hasn't got five other kids," Ron said to Harry as they watched his mum add yet another tier to an already towering cake.

"I kind of understand," Harry said. "She feels like she's losing him. I'd hate to lose anyone I cared about."

"Harry, be a dear and pass the buttercream, would you?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley."

"Molly, please."

Harry grimaced. "Yes…Molly."

Ron's mum beamed at him, taking the mixing bowl. "That wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

"You don't have to be so formal," Ron whispered. "My family is a lot more relaxed."

He nodded to where the twins huddled in a corner scrubbing pots. Both were covered head to toe in bright purple paint, as was their entire room, from an experiment gone wrong. It had even set the ghoul to rattling his chains.

Harry snorted. "I'll try."

When the cake was finally complete, they cleared the way for Ron's mum as she levitated it to the already groaning table set up in the freshly de-gnomed garden. Scarlet-winged moths hovered around soft golden lights that had been set in the canopy. The hens were all asleep, and the stars were out, shining down on them from a clear sky.

"It's so…" Harry began.

"Magical?" Ron said, smirking.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah."

"It is," Ron agreed, looking around. He was, Ron realized, very lucky to have his family. Even as one of the cake toppers, a fondant galleon, went flying and smacked him in the forehead. At least it made Harry laugh.

Harry blinked at him owlishly. The healer had spelled Harry's lenses and fixed up the frames.

"How is it?" Ron asked, leaning down to get a closer look.

Harry smiled. "I can see! I think I could count your freckles now."

Ron snorted. "Good luck."

Ron's mum finished talking with the healer and came to join them. "Are you ready, dear?"

Harry stiffened and looked at the ground. "Yeah." 

He held a flower picked from the Burrow's garden, a stem of lily of the valley with a spray of white, bell-shaped flowers.

"It's going to be okay," Ron said, bumping shoulders with him. "I'll be with you."

Harry gave him a weak smile, and they walked up to the fourth floor, where the Janus Thickey Ward waited.

A healer in green robes let them in. "It's good of you to visit her," she said, walking past patients staring blankly at the ceiling, mumbling to themselves, and fiddling with small toys. "I don't think she's ever had visitors."

Harry looked stricken. Ron took his hand without thinking. "It's not your fault they lied to you."

Harry said nothing, just kept moving forward. Ron's mum looked back at them, tears in her eyes. Ron wanted to cry too, but he had to be strong for Harry.

"Here she is," the healer said. "She's out of bed today, that's a good sign."

Ron looked up and saw a frail woman with deep red hair shuffling towards them. She had the same shapeless robes and slippers as the other patients. Her green eyes, Harry's eyes, were vacant, roving blindly along ground in front of her.

Harry stopped walking and stared at her.

"Lily, dear," the healer said. "Your son Harry is here to see you. Come along, Harry."

Harry jerked back to life, taking a few uneasy steps forward. Ron let him go, knowing he wanted to do this part by himself.

"Hi, mum," Harry whispered.

Lily Potter moved her head slightly, shuffled forward.

"It's…it's nice to finally meet you."

"Ha…har…Harry…"

The healer gasped. Ron pressed against his mum.

"I brought this for you," Harry said, holding up the flowers.

Lily shakily raised her hand and managed to take the flowers from him. After a moment the flowers began to close, one by one, then open again.

"That's really cool," Harry said, smiling tremulously. "I just learned about magic."

"Harry," Lily whispered. "Take…Harry…"

"He did," Harry said after a moment. "He protected me."

"James…"

Ron's mum put a hand to her mouth, and they watched as Harry carefully hugged his mother.

The flowers kept opening and closing.

They didn't sleep that night. Harry explained in halting words what Hagrid told him when he found Harry in a hut on a rock in the middle of the sea.

Four Death Eaters found Lily and James Potter with their son. They had gone into hiding and were betrayed. Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, and Bartemius Crouch Junior tortured Lily. They left her for dead, and tracked down James, who had hidden with their son. James died covering the baby with his own body. It took hours to find him. Harry had almost died too, nearly suffocated by his father's corpse.

It was a miracle he had survived.

The next day was a normal day at the Burrow. Ginny talking a mile a minute, their dad distracted by the weird things witches and wizards did to common muggle items, Percy yelling for quiet, the twins doing something with the ghoul that made all the pipes rattle, their mum plying everyone with food and singing along with the wireless.

Ron took Harry down to the pond, and they threw pebbles into the water. 

"There's a few other magical families who live around here," Ron said, getting a stone to skip a few times. "The Fawcetts, the Diggorys, and the Lovegoods. Luna Lovegood is friends with Ginny, they're the same age. Cedric Diggory is a year older than the twins. I think the Fawcetts have a girl."

Harry stared at a small black stone in his hand, turning it over, and over. "Luna?"

"Some people call her Loony," Ron said, frowning. "Her dad runs this paper called the Quibbler. They talk about creatures people have never seen."

Harry nodded absently. "There are a lot of things people can't see. Muggles have special machines to see the smallest things, like atoms and stuff."

Ron looked at him. "What's an atom?"

"It's what everything is made of, in muggle science," Harry explained. "Do you think there's a magical kind?"

"Maybe," Ron said, tossing another rock in. "We could find out."

"Lunch!" someone called from the house.

Ron stood up and brushed off his trousers, then reached down to pull Harry up. They walked through the trees and past the hedge, witnessing a gang of gnomes sneaking back into the garden.

"You can go back anytime you want," Ron said, frowning at the gnomes.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Do you think…do you think there is any way to heal her?"

"I don't know," Ron said honestly. "We can find that out too."

The rest of summer passed too quickly. Harry visited his mother every day. Sometimes Ron went with, other times Harry wanted to go alone. He always took a flower with him. Ron had found him holding a daisy once, the petals rippling with his magic. It was the only kind of magic Harry's mum could teach him. 

They practiced spells in secret. In their shared room. In the garden after dark. Sometimes they found Ginny sneaking a broom out to fly, and they all agreed to keep their mouths shut about it.

Harry fit in with the Weasleys easily. Ron's parents liked children, and he got the impression Harry made losing both Charlie and Bill to the wider world a little easier for them to deal with. Poor Errol was flying himself to death, so Harry's snowy owl, Hedwig, was conscripted to carry letters to his eldest brothers. Hedwig also had a lot of fun hunting gnomes and carrying them off.

The closer it got to school starting, the more anxious Ron became. It frustrated him because he didn't know why. He was excited to start school, to start learning magic for real, but he had a deep sense of unease about Hogwarts.

They visited the Lovegoods. Luna's mother had passed away earlier that year, and her and her father Xenophilius had become very lost. Pandora Lovegood had held them all together, and both Luna and her father seemed much less tethered to reality. They learned about nargles and wrackspurts, caught plimpies in the creek and tied their spindly legs together, and they all pretended Xenophilius' plimpy soup was edible.

One day Ron and Harry were sent to pick tomatoes from the garden.

"Did you hear that?" Harry asked, looking around.

"Hear what?"

"Someone talking about mice?" Harry swung his head around. "They just said they were going to eat it!"

Ron slowly crept over to look at where Harry was staring. Something moved in the grass.

"Try talking back," Ron whispered.

"Um, okay."

Ron nearly fell over when Harry spoke in a soft hissing sound. A grass snake rose up, weaving its head in irritation. It was grey, with a black ladder pattern running down its back.

"You can talk to snakes?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "I accidentally set one loose on my cousin at the zoo. The glass vanished."

"Wicked," Ron said, watching as the snake disappeared in the grass and returned to its hunt. "You shouldn't tell anyone, though."

"Why not?" Harry asked. "I bet loads of people can do it."

"Not really," Ron said. "It's really rare. The only other parselmouth I've heard of is You-Know-Who."

Harry frowned. "So people will think I'm like him? Because we speak the same language?"

"Parseltongue," Ron said. "And yeah. People are stupid like that."

"They are," Harry said. "So it's a secret then."

"Our secret. Maybe you'll find a magic snake to be friends with."

Harry grinned. "That would be so cool! What kinds are there?"

Ron shrugged. "Hogwarts has a big library. We can find out there."

"Are there other types of animals people can talk to?"

"I wish," Ron said wistfully. "If I could talk to an animal, I bet I'd get chickens. It'd make getting the eggs easier, at least."

In a surprising show of foresight, Ron had decided to start reading his course books before school started. Harry did too, often taking one with him to read to his mother at St. Mungo's.

The night before the train left, they were reading One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi when there was a knock at Ron's door.

"Yeah?" Ron called.

Percy walked in, carrying his old rat Scabbers. Ron was immediately on alert. Something was…off about Scabbers.

"Since I've got a new owl," Percy announced, "I find myself unable to properly care for Scabbers. Ronald, I would like to pass that responsibility onto you."

It was quite over-the-top, the changing of hands for Scabbers the Rat. Harry watched in silence as Ron graciously accepted the old garden rat. Ron had the strangest urge to strangle the thing.

"Thanks, Perce," Ron said with a strained smile. "I'll take good care of him for you."

"I shall bring his accommodations forthwith," Percy intoned, going back to his room for Scabbers' cage.

"That was nice of him," Harry said, reaching out to pet Scabbers. Ron tried to control his reaction. This was all very wrong.

He set Scabbers carefully on his bed, determined to keep an eye on the rat lest anything suspicious happened.

"We better start packing," Ron said, looking around all their things strewn about the room, putting the Scabbers issue aside for the moment. "Mum'll have a fit if we aren't ready on time."