This was concocted completely out of a whim--aka i was commenting a friend and then...this spun out of it.
Hope you enjoy it!!
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling released the title four days ago. Do you honestly think I have the will power to sit on something as amazing as that for so long? I'm most DEFINITELY NOT JKR.
Ron Weasley and the Holiday Feast:
A Harry Potter One-Shot
Snow glistened on the frosty ground of an unkempt garden as gnomes huddled in their burrows for warmth. The head gnome, Spuds, chittered to his younger brother, gesturing at the seemingly unstable building over the hedge. Tubers, an unsually gangly gnome, grumbled quietly as he shuffled out in the snow, dancing quickly across the rock hard ground to keep his small feet from freezing. He let himself in through a half opened window that led into a drafty basement.
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS!"
Tubers flinched as he shivered in place. The humans and the racket that they made were enough to make his eye twitch--multiple times.
Crash. A yell. Smash. Laughter.
He leapt up the narrow staircase and gently prodded the door open.
A steaming concoction flooded the hardwood floor. Tubers sipped at it eagerly and smiled widely; despite their strange outward appearances and noises, the humans sure knew how to make interesting foods.
"Come along," a plump woman motioned for the stew to leap off the floor and into a small cauldron. "We'll figure out something for this mess."
"We could give it to the gnomes," a slim girl with the usual fiery Weasley hair suggested.
Tubers beamed. He always liked the girl, she understood the gnomes.
"Sure, sure," Mrs. Weasley whisked the small cauldron next to the door before turning back to the wide array of foods being prepared all around the room.
"G'afternoon, Mum," a gangly young man entered the room, eagerly eying the rooms.
"Oh, oh, no you don't!" the girl threw her arms up to block his path. "You're not coming in here, not today, not ever, especially after last year."
"What're you talking about, Gin? What did I do last time?"
"Oh, nothing, really, except eat up all the mince pies. And the pudding," she scowled before adding as an after thought, "Oh, yeah, and the roast."
Ron's ears reddened to resemble shriveled bits of potato. "It was an accident."
"I'm sure it was," Ginny replied, unconvinced. She then raised her voice, "Oy, Hermione! Could you lure my brother away with your impeccable personality and good looks?"
"Ginny!" three voices squeaked in unison. Ron's ears had turned to an attractive purple, Hermione, a bushy haired girl with bright brown eyes, entered the room, her face slightly flushed, and the plump woman, Mrs. Weasley, hid a smile as she kneaded a batch of dough.
"Well, it's the truth, isn't it?" Ginny teased, enjoying herself thoroughly.
"Oy, Harry! Could you take Ginny away with your impeccable personality and good looks?" Ron called over his shoulder as he glared at his sister.
A raven haired young man entered, grinning brightly at the slight blush on the younger girl's cheeks as she glowered at his brother.
"Oh, come on, you were just asking for it," Ron retorted in response to the scowl.
"All of you, out!" Mrs. Weasley waved her arms in a single flapping motion. "I have a Christmas dinner to make!"
"We'll help, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione offered brightly.
"Er...don't you have a paper to write for...um, work?" Ron asked apprehensively.
"Oh, please, Ronald," Hermione rolled her eyes as she tied on an apron. "I finished everything on Friday."
"I know, Ronald," Harry imitated the girl, "honestly, this is Hermione we're talking about. Has she ever left any work undone in her life?"
A ball of flour flew across the room and hit Harry square in the face.
"Honestly, Harry," Ron chortled as he watched the other man coolly wipe the white powder off his glasses. "Have you forgotten that this is the brightest witch in our year we're dealing with?"
"I suppose if you won't help me, I'll have to hex all of you?" Mrs. Weasley raised her wand to emphasize her point.
"Yes, Mum, right away, Mum," Ron gave a mock salute and bounded across the room to pull on an especially flowery apron.
Mrs. Weasley sighed, gently rubbing her temple. "Why is it that he seems more and more like Fred and George with every Christmas?"
"Because it's Christmas and he completely forgets his true persona?" Ginny suggested as she tied a plain apron on Harry.
"I resent that," Ron said as he sampled a spoonful of red sauce.
"Ron, when you've stopped sampling the cranberries, could you help Harry go outside and get some carrots?" Mrs. Weasley said without looking up from the orchestra of boiling pots and pans she was conducting.
Ron dropped the spoon into its dish and hurried out the door, the flower pattern of his untied waist straps trailing desperately behind him. Harry followed at a more leisurely pace, smiling inwardly--there never was a dull day around the Weasley household. A blast of cold air ruffled his hair as he exited into the cold whiteness of the outdoors. Ron was already bewitching a frozen carrot out of the frosty ground.
"C'mon so we can get out of this cold," said Ron as the carrot shook the dirt off itself.
Harry sighed in agreement.
"Why is it that the guys are always the ones who have to do all the grunt work?" Ron asked as a parsnip shot out of the ground along with a shivering potato.
"Probably because neither of us can cook?" Harry suggested as he watched with mild interest as the shivering potato leapt over to Ron and kicked his shin before burrowing back into the ground.
"Stupid gnomes," Ron grumbled as he rubbed his stinging shin. He then arched his neck downward to where the gnome had disappeared, "Who told you to make your home in our garden? Serves you right for being pulled out."
The potato like creature's head stuck out long enough for it to blow a very wet raspberry at the redhaired man.
"Well," Harry quickly intervened as Ron glared at the hole in the ground, "I think we have enough of this stuff."
Ron grumbled as he followed Harry back into the house, quietly cursing the rude gnome.
"Back already?" Ginny greeted with a raised eyebrow.
"Ron had a...um, bad run in with a gnome," Harry explained softly as he set an armful of frozen roots into the sink.
Ginny suppressed a giggle as she helped Harry clean and peel the vegetables. "I told you to leave Tubers and Spuds' family alone, didn't I?" she asked Ron as he flopped down into a chair.
"Tuber and Spuds," Ron scoffed. "What kind of names are those?"
"Very appropriate, if you ask me," Ginny replied coolly as knives started to chop up the carrots and scoop them into boiling pots of water.
"Chatter and work, Ron, chatter and work," Mrs. Weasley set a bowl of steaming chestnuts before her son. He silently started to unshell them, occasionally popping a few into his mouth. Plates of steaming dishes started to assemble themselves before him as the afternoon went on (he, somehow, was landed with shelling multiple assortments of beans, peeling cloves of garlic, and skinning grapes, pears, and other fruits), and he found himself stealing glances at the tureen of diced baked potatoes, loaves of freshly baked bread, three different hearty stews, a colorful plate of tossed salad (with Santa Claus shaped tomato), a mountain of brownies with oozing chocolate shells, and a large bowl of smooth rice pudding. A string of drool fell from his moist lips to the ground.
"Um, Ron?" Hermione struggled through his sea of saliva. "This is...highly unsanitary."
Ron blinked out his reverie and sucked back the line of drool. Hermione cringed and walked away, her face slightly green from disgust.
"And you kiss that thing, too," Harry added jokingly.
"All right, everyone, time to wash up," Mrs. Weasley dusted off her hands with content before shooing the quartet out of the room. She raised her voice and bellowed, "Dinner in fifteen minutes!"
Hermione winced slightly and Harry squinted his eyes to get the ringing out of his ears, but neither one of the Weasleys as much as blinked as they made their way up the staircase. They took quick turns in the bathroom (Ron was the first to finish and fly back down the stairs). Harry grinned as he watched the mass of redhaired people hurry downstairs; nothing could beat Christmas at the Burrow...
"C'mon, Harry," Ginny grabbed his hand and he automatically weaved his arm around her waist, "before Ron eats us all out of the house."
The pair strolled down the stairs and came to a halt at the swinging door. The rest of the Weasleys also stood there along with Hermione, their eyes drooping with slack expressions of discontent.
There sat Ron, tearing his way through the turkey, golden potatoes, stews, pudding, and bread. The food that had been carefully prepared and arranged were in disarray.
The group exchanged glances. The twins strolled forward and took a hold of Ron by the collar of his shirt before they silently dragged the youngest Weasley boy out of the kitchen and into the livingroom.
"Happy Christmas, everyone," Ginny said without expression as they all took their seats and unceremoniously started to eat.
"What'd you do to him?" Hermione asked, concerned.
"Tied him to his old baby chair," said Fred through a mouthful of potato.
"Like we did when he was little," George added.
"Well, you can't teach an old Crup new tricks," sighed Mrs. Weasley.
The twins laughed. "Yeah, good luck with that one, Hermione," Fred chortled.
"I heard that!" Ron called from the livingroom. "Can someone untie me now?"
"NO!" chorused the Weasleys.
Tubers sighed before slipping back into the basement and out the window, into the cold again. Next to the backdoor of the Burrow stood the still steaming cauldron. Tubers blessed the thoughtful Weasley girl as he called for Spuds and their families to come out and join him in the Christmas feast. It was, indeed, a good Christmas
Tubers and Spuds--the next Bert and Ernie. or maybe even Stan and Ernie. Kinda.
Well. I hope you guys enjoyed it. As always, i made the characters of Harry Potter into a parody of themselves and made them lighter than they truly are. Ahh, well. : )
Hopefully everyone has an excellent day and enjoy your break. If not, i'll call up Lupin and see if he will give you some chocolate.
Cheerily yours,
Chikin Wang