A Weasley Tradition
Chapter One: Happy Birthday
Disclaimer: Disclaiming. That annoying thing we have to do that snaps us back to reality, and reminds us that we aren't making any money off of this, and that we don't own the characters. If only, if only the woodpecker sighed… (which, by the way, I don't own those lyrics either)
Ron stretched his arms above his head, yawning, savoring the early morning light, and the fact that he was more than likely the only one up. It didn't happen often, Ron hated getting up early. But on mornings like these, especially this morning, he enjoyed it, because today was his birthday, and what a fine day to have his birthday on! The sun was shining, the birds were chirping…ok, no they weren't. If there were any birds outside they were freezing their asses off. It must have been around negative ten degrees Celsius. It was cold. As it well should be, it was only the first day of March, after all.
Ron smiled to himself. The day couldn't get any better, and it hadn't even started yet. He turned over and watched Harry sleep. His chest kept up a steady rhythm. Rise and Fall. Rise and Fall. Ron noticed with amusement that his orange bed sheets clashed violently with Harry's scarlet pajamas. He breathed in the familiar and homey scent of the Burrow. He hadn't been home for a birthday since he was ten, but last year the Ministry decided the wizarding world was in need of a new holiday. So at the end of February right on in to the middle of March, no one went to school, and time at work was limited. Ron didn't really understand what the holiday was for. All he had gotten from Hermione's quick explanation that was full of unnecessarily big words was that they were supposed to be honoring the witches and wizards who died during the Salem Witch Trails. But Ron knew for a fact that no magical person had died during that time period, and this was only because, for once in his life, he had paid attention in History of Magic. He had spent almost a week trying figure out a reason for the holiday before coming to the conclusion that it didn't really matter. They got time off of school! Who cared why? And, conveniently, his birthday fell into the slot of time off.
The smells of breakfast were coming from downstairs. Ron's stomach grumbled and he realized he'd have to get up soon. He'd been awake for a few hours now, and he could hear other people downstairs, walking around, bumping into things, and generally making a lot of noise.
Ok, so, if today was March 1, then how long had they been out of school now? Alright, that's today, and we got off then, so that's three, minus the four, carry the two…
"Ron, what are you doing?" asked a sleepy Harry. Ron didn't realize he had been talking out loud. "It's too early in the morning to be talking to yourself"
"Oh, I was just…never mind." He changed the subject. "Hey, Harry, we better get up, Hermione's going to be here soon!"
"What for? She's staying with her parents until your birth…oh." He gave Ron a sheepish smile. "Happy Birthday mate!"
Ron just rolled his eyes and laughed. "You dolt! Come on, I'll race you downstairs!"
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Hermione came over, and would be with them until it was time to go back to school. Breakfast had been delicious, his presents were fantastic (apparently, the gifts are better once you come of age) and the best part of the day, was sitting in his pocket.
He pulled out a card, roughly the size of a muggle I.D. There was his picture, waving happily at him. Ron read the card again, loving the way it sounded. "Ronald Bilious Weasley, Age 17, first class"
"Sounds important!" Harry laughed from behind him. Ron turned red, but laughed along with Harry.
"It is. Tomorrow wouldn't be possible without it." Harry looked confused.
"Why, what's tomorrow?" Ron blanched. Damn! Had he forgotten to tell him?
"I, uh, I told you didn't I?
"No, you didn't. Why, what's happening tomorrow?" God, he had forgotten to tell him!
"Well, you'll find out soon enough. G'night Harry, I'm going to bed, err, really exhausting day. The broom kit was great, by the way" And before Harry could inquire any further about what was going to happen tomorrow, Ron was up the stairs, and in the bed.