Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this work of fiction, and no profit is being made (monetary or otherwise) through the writing of this.

A/N: Set pre-Hogwarts, at the Burrow. Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's assignment #5, Elemental Magic; Task #2: Air - Write about someone being chased by a bee (or lots of [them]).

Warning: Tooth-rotting fluff told mostly from the point-of-view of a one-year old Ronald Weasley. Features good big brother, Percy.

It was a fuzzy, buzzy sort of thing. No bigger than his thumb, the fat, winged insect almost seemed to float lazily, buzzily in the air.

Ron buzz-buzzed in response and the buzzing insect made a lackadaisical loop around Ron's head. He clapped his hands and imitated his newfound friend, buzzing and flapping his arms, drool dribbling down his chin.

Smiling, Ron hummed to himself, and reached up in a clumsy attempt to capture the black-yellow striped bumbling buzzer, because it was fat and fuzzy and he thought it was pretty. He liked the buzz-buzz sound that it made.

It evaded his chubby hands and gave an almost angry buzzing sound in response. A sound of warning that the one, soon to be two-year old, ignored because he didn't know what it meant. Ron frowned and his lower lip trembled just a little when he fell on his butt after he lost his footing in his blundering attempt to chase after the fuzzy buzz-buzz-buzz.

Soon, there were other buzzers hanging in the air, their big, black beetle-like eyes locked on the toddler sitting in the tall grass that swayed in the gentle breeze. Their buzzing sound, not unlike the gentle, rumbling roll of thunder before a moderate spring rain, filled the thicket, but Ron, already onto the next thing that caught his eye, was oblivious to the buzzing danger that he was in.

Having caught sight of a pretty, cheerful flower that bobbed and winked at him, Ron forgot all about the buzz-buzz he'd been enamored with a scant half a minute before. He got up on his knees and reached for the bowing flower - it was blue and looked soft and silky and he suddenly wanted it more than anything he'd ever wanted in his life.

His brow furrowed and he strained with all of his might toward the flower that bopped and bobbed and swayed just out of reach. The buzzing around him grew louder, and, still he remained focused on the flower. It might taste like the sweet, juicy berries his Mum put in his oatmeal.

"Ron!"

Ron ignored his big brother, Percy's, voice. It sounded annoyed and put out, and like Ron would be in trouble if the voice caught up to him. The thick murmuring buzz of the black-yellow fuzzies drowned out Percy's next shout. Ron did not hear the fear in his older brother's voice because his fingers were outstretched and he was crouched on his haunches, a look of intense concentration on his face as he made another grab for the flower that jounced and nodded in the breeze.

Ron's plump fingers found purchase on the flower, pulling it down just as his big brother, braving the army of buzzing buzzers, plucked Ron up in his arms and ran through the field, the buzzing hoard giving angry chase. Ron gave a startled cry before he squealed in delight, the flower forgotten as he was bounced along in his big brother's arms.

"Adain!" Ron cried, patting Percy's ashen cheek when his brother stopped running and stood, panting, on the porch, his hand clutching at a stitch in his side. "Adain."

The buzzers, thwarted by spell that had been quickly cast by Ron's Mum, bumped and buzzed against an invisible barrier before they buzzled away, but not until after they'd glared at the boys who'd disturbed them in their work. Ron's Mum had her hands on her hips, and her lips were turned down in a frown, her eyes were sparking with a touch of anger.

"Those bees," she said, shaking her head. She fussed over Ron and the still panting Percy, bustling them into the safety of the house where there were biscuits and tea with milk and honey and where Percy finally sat Ron down, limbs trembling with their near escape.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," the boy scolded.

And Ron, having just remembered the flower that he'd managed to procure in spite of his big brother's interference, thrust the flower into his brother's face. Percy flinched back and grimaced.

"Pwomise," Ron said in all sincerity.

When Percy continued to level him with a stern look, Ron bit his bottom lip and batted his eyes at his big brother. It was something that he'd seen one of the twins do with their mother when the older boy had gotten in trouble and she'd waved a wooden spoon at him. The wooden spoon had ended up stopping mid-air and Ron's Mum had shaken her head, a wry smile on her face. The misbehaved twin had escaped the wrath of the wooden spoon, and the watching Ron had learned a valuable lesson in how to wriggle his way out of trouble.

Percy gave Ron an exasperated, yet fond look, much as Ron's Mum had done with the troublesome twin, and took the proffered flower. It was crushed and already wilting due to their mad dash through the field, but Percy treated it as though it was a precious gift, and Mum put the flower in a makeshift vase.

A faint buzz-buzzing sound filled the air, and Percy paled, even as Ron clapped his hands in delight when he recognized his friend from the field. It seemed to nod in acknowledgement of, or maybe apology to, the toddler as it made its way out of the center of the flower.

"Buzz-buzz!" Ron cheered, and the fuzzy, bumbling buzzy buzzer buzzed near Ron's ear, before making a lazy turn about the kitchen and buzzing its way out the door that Ron's Mum held open for it.

Percy's head was in his hands and he was muttering something incoherent to himself. Ron patted his big brother's back and gave Percy a sloppy kiss on the cheek. He didn't understand what was wrong with his brother, but knew that a nice pat on the back and a kiss on the cheek made things better. At least they did for him when he'd skinned his knee, or bumped his head, or had a scare.

"'S'okay," Ron said. "Love you."

Percy raised his head and shook it before pulling Ron into a hug. "Bees are not our friends," he said.

Frowning, Ron simply patted his big brother's back and said, "'Kay."

Ron didn't know what a bee was, or why they couldn't be friends (it didn't seem nice), or what he was supposed to do with that knowledge, but agreeing with his big brother seemed to make Percy happy, and Ron liked to make his big brother happy. He let Percy hug him until his big brother let him go, and then he scampered off into the living room, buzzing around, flapping his arms like his buzzing friend had done in the field where he'd picked the dancing flower that now sat in a vase on the dining room table. Too busy playing, he never heard Percy's exasperated exclamation, or the thud when Percy's head hit the table, or the embittered groan that accompanied it.