Ch. 4: Arthur Weasley

Song For Chapter: Ride by Lana del Rey

     I WASHED MY HANDS IN the basin of the bathroom and sighed. The wedding ceremony was elegant. My brother seemed happy, more than happy actually. Trey looked ecstatic, as if his whole world, and soul, and heart were encased in the beautiful frame of his bride.

     Despite myself, I couldn't help but start crying a bit when he kissed her — much to my own embarrassment. Sure, he is not my own blood, but even then, he is still my brother. Trey and I have a bond, and I will be there for him. As for the tears, well, I cannot really say if they were happy or mournful.

      The majority of them were happy tears; Trey had met the other half of his soul. 'The one person who carries your whole world in the palm of their hand and you theirs,' the tiny romantic side of my brain sighed. The rest of my brain just rolled its eyes.

     However, a tiny fraction of myself was sad. Somewhere in my heart, I felt as if I would never find that one person for me. As Trey smiled warmly at his bride, I couldn't help but feel that pang of longing in my chest for something like that. But, doesn't everyone want that kind of love every once in a while?

     As I left the lavatory I was yanked out of my melancholy thoughts. "ELLE! Elle!" I snapped my head to the right to find the face to the voice, though I already knew who it was. No matter how long I went without seeing my friends, Jenna had a distinct 'notice me' ring to her voice.

     "You dumb brunette! Over here!" Jenna was waving four hands in my direction. Her right hand was latched on to a smirking Lana, while the left was — to my mild, yet not unexpected, surprise — glued to Hermione.

       "Calm down!" I cupped my hand over to my mouth and chuckled at her; I really missed my strange, weirdo friends, but a few elderly couples were giving all four of us disapproving glances and shaking their heads.

     Poor Hermione. She stood there, arm distended in the air, uncomfortable. I could tell she was trying to fade into the crowd, and perhaps it would have worked too, if it weren't for the fact that Jenna was hoisting her up like some prized oddity.

      "Are you takin' the piss?!" Lana spoke up in her rural, French accent. "We haven't seen you in forever." A few of the American guests gave her appalled looks, most of them didn't understand the phrase (while a waiter actually chuckled and winked at her) and I shook my head at the old inside joke.

     'Taking the piss' was a phrase that Lana had brought back a few summers before when she was in France visiting with her cousins. She couldn't keep a straight face when she had first heard it, and she immediately had to share the news when she made it back home. Though it simply meant a crude 'are you kidding?', we'd latched onto it.

     I jogged over to them and smacked both Jenna and Lana's shoulders. "We are at a wedding. You both need to watch it!" Chuckling, I leaned in and whispered: "no, I am not takin' the piss!"

      "Honestly you three, you would think you would have better manners, being at a wedding," a husky voice sounded behind us, "even if you are V.I.P."

       Spinning around, I raced into Trey's awaiting arms. "Oh my gosh! You were amazing, did you have cold feet?" Before my brother could answer that, I blathered on, "are you sure you are ready, cause you know we can get you an annulment before twenty-four hours." I elbowed him, joking of course.

      Trey smiled at my ridiculous question and shook his head. "No, I'm fine, but thank you for being my best sister."

         "I'm your only sister." I frowned and squinted at him. He only winked in response.

       This moment felt nice, and unforced. Though there was a sudden shift to my world, and everything was still topsy-turvy, my brother and I were still simply that: brother and sister. Family doesn't end in blood.

     "It's a beautiful wedding, Trey. I wish the best for you and your bride." Lana walked forward and gave Trey a quick hug and peck on the cheek.

      Hermione suddenly reminded everyone of her presence and pulled away from Jenna, meekly. "Hello, you don't know me, but I must say that it's clear you are in love! It just shines through." Hermione smiled politely and stepped forward to shake Trey's hand.

      Trey accepted it warmly with a soft smile. "You must be the famous Hermione Granger. You two do look a scary amount alike." My brother pulled me beside my new found sister and compared us for a moment. "Yup, it's in the face."

      "I know right?! It's like they're twins!" Jenna stepped forward and pointed at the two of us, enthusiastically.

      "Erm, Jenna?" I patted her shoulder. "She . . . well, she is my twin. In fact,... I'm living with her in England now." I decided to get this moment over with — just rip it off like a bandage.

      "Wait — what? No way!" Jenna hopped up and down, excited. "So, are you coming to Sorcellerie next year, Hermione?" She grabbed her shoulders and shook her lightly, eyes alight with enthusiasm. "This will be so exciting. I know twins!"

      Lana noticed my sudden change in emotion pat my back. "I'm going to miss you — you must write us every day. Seriously. You got that?!" Startled, I nodded vigorously, this has to be the first time Lana has raised her voice at me.

       But, it was completely understandable. I, Elizabeth Rose Roberts, — or Granger now — was possibly the worst pen-pal one could attempt to have. I would go months during the summer without writing my friends; I just simply forget. Then, after a large amount of time had gone by, it just seemed weird to send one, and the pressure would build.

      "Of course, I have to tell you everything; you will be getting so many letters that they will be coming out of your ears and will be tucked in your thongs."

      Jenna's eyes darted back and forth between the four of us. Trey had wandered out of our circle moments earlier, sensing where the conversation was headed and also being yanked away by the attention of more of his wedding guests.

         "You're not . . . But, I mean, no. What?!" Her big, blue eyes grew bigger and she tackled me in a huge hug. "It's not fair!"

         Sighing, I pat her on the back, trying to comfort her as she hugged me tightly. To be perfectly honest, I was a bit surprised by this gesture. Lana, Jenna, and I had always been that group of friends that, while we were close, never needed to really be around each other to remain close. I figured my friends would have handled this a lot better. I mean, hell, during the summer months I would practically go the time without even writing them, let alone seeing them.

        Jenna dry sobbed into my shoulder, melodramatically. "It's not fair! How come you get to move to England and I don't?" I shoved her away from me with a sarcastic grunt.

       'This bitch'. I crossed my arms over my chest with a frown as Lana and I glared at Jenna's faked sad face. There was a moment of silence before Jenna's frown faltered into a teasing grin, and she began to laugh. Lana shook her head and started laughing as well, while Hermione watched on the sidelines, trying to figure out what was going on.

        "It's so not fair," Jenna snickered and looked at Hermione who was beginning to chuckle lightly at our antics. Before long all four of us were in hysterics and laughing away our fears and sadnesses, not caring about the wedding people that were giving us dirty looks for being rowdy.

      Tonight was not going to bring us down.

✧

       "Hermione, did you pack my toothbrush on accident?" I called my sister, checking my bags for everything I needed for the trip. The Quidditch World Cup was tomorrow night, but Mrs. Weasley told us that we could make the travel a day early and stay at the 'Burrow', as Hermione had put it.

  I thought it was a strange thing to call a house, but I wasn't going to say that out loud.

     It made me think of the Weasleys as little Hobbits, burrowed under a small hill surrounded by budding plants and wild animals... like some sort of fairytale realm with their neighbor being the lady that lived in a shoe, or the woman and her husband that lived in a pumpkin.

Giggling to myself, I admitted to myself that I was nervous. Okay, I was extremely nervous about meeting Hermione's friends.

She seemed to get along with Jenna and Lana perfectly well, and I realized how good that was — Jenna and Lana aren't the easiest people to adapt to — so, essentially, I was hoping that Harry and Ron were somewhat like them. However, I couldn't help but doubt. Jenna and Lana were . . . definitely unique.

"No, I don't think I did," Hermione called from inside the bathroom. She fixed her frizzed hair in the mirror, pulling at her face with a frown.

Craning my head around the crack in the door, I noticed her newly sprouted pimple. Her olive skin paled as she played with it.

I walked into the restroom and made faces in the mirror.

"Nervous about Ronald?" I elbowed her lightly, chuckling under my breath as she quickly pulled away from the mirror and smoothed down her rumpled tank top.

"No i-it's not like that. Honestly." She waved her hands as she spoke, emphasizing her point.

I made a mental note of that, (I'd been making a lot of them these days), knowing that I used my hands too when I was frustrated.

Forcing a civil smile, I politely held out a pink cardigan for her to throw on. She thanked me without meeting my eyes.

"Whatever you say, Hermione." I rolled my eyes at her over-dramatic need to refuse it. I had never met this Ron Weasley, and I was probably the last person to make assumptions about his relationship with Hermione Jean Granger, yet, it was still fun to tease.

'Probably best not to tease her too much,' I reminded myself, 'it's been a few months since I've gotten here, but that doesn't mean Hermione and I are close friends yet'. The last thing I wanted to do was make her annoyed with me. Then what would I do at school?

I'm the midst of the bathroom, I began to seriously search for my damned toothbrush. I scoured the counter. No luck. "Oh screw this . . . ," I glanced over to Hermione, making sure she wasn't paying attention as I whispered the charm under my breath, "accio toothbrush."

For some reason, she always became cross with me whenever I used magic, and I didn't really want to get into it with her.

Faint thumping came from under my bed. Getting on to my knees, I looked under the bed to see a book I had been reading the night before. I had to slide under the frame of the bed and squeeze under to pull the book out, and, as I opened up the book, my toothbrush fell into my palm.

"Oh . . . how did you get there?" I accused the inanimate object, when suddenly I remembered. I had been reading up on Hogwarts: A History until the early hours of the morning.

I didn't want to dog-ear Hermione's book so I felt around aimlessly for something to bookmark my page — the toothbrush. Probably not the smartest, or most sanitary, option.

"Hey, did you find it?" Hermione asked, lugging her school trunk with her. At the sound of her voice, I quickly tucked the toothbrush under my mattress. Something told me she wouldn't be too pleased to know I'd used a toothbrush as a bookmark in her favorite novel. "Make sure you have everything. After we leave the World Cup we're heading straight to Hogwarts, no turning back." She noticed the book in my hands. "Might as well pack that too, it's a good read."

One thing I have noticed in the time I have spent with Hermione?  This girl is bossy.

I mean, I don't mind all that much because I know that she means well, but some people have claimed that I'm stubborn. But, you know, who can really judge these days?

"Gosh is that the time? Elle, it's 5 o'clock." I nodded, pretending to know why the time mattered.

Hermione picked up on my blatant obliviousness and explained, grabbing her suitcase and growing more and more flustered as the time passed, hands going haywire. "We have to take the train since there're some complicated spell barriers around the Weasley's house and the train will take at least three hours! And, from the train station, we have to take a cab—" Hermione started to babble.

I really need to teach her how to be more relaxed, and soon.

"—Maybe we could possibly ride broomsticks to their house, but I really am not good with broomsticks. In fact, my friend, Neville Longbottom, actually broke his wrist the first time he rode one! They are so temperamental!" She continued.

"Hermione," I stopped her. "A train and a cab are fine—trust me."

With a half smile,  she shook herself, trying to shake away her flustered behavior. "Sorry, I'm just nervous. I guess."

"Mhmm." I watched her from the corner of my eye and shrugged. Jenna would get the same way whenever she was about to sleepover at my house in the summer months, because of her crush on Trey, it was always a huge ordeal.

My sister was obviously never going to admit that she had feelings for this 'Ron' so I would have to see if he liked her back, just as Jenna always had me do. Then, I would start planning. I chuckled evilly, absent-mindedly toying with the strap on my luggage.

Hermione's eyes flashed with a twinge of what seemed to be fear as I realised my laugh was louder than I had intended. "Why are you laughing like that?"

Ignoring her question with a smirk, I just grabbed my stuff. "You don't want to be any later than we already are—do you?"

✧

Okay, so maybe the whole train and cab ride plan was not the best idea ever. Hermione had forgotten to mention to me that the Weasleys lived in a very, very, very rural part of England.

Very rural.

At first, I was pretty excited to get on the train and see the towns fading away by the first half of the train ride. The next hour and a half, however, I spent my time glaring out in awe at the dark window, watching the moon as it lit fields of marshes and cattle ranges in a fairytale-esque glow.

It was straight out of The Secret Garden, or Anne of Green Gables.

Being from a moderately populated area, I was used to fields and a few grazing cattle for up to two miles, but these lands felt as if they were never going to stop, as if this was it for eternity!

Feeling very much relieved when we got off of the train at a tiny station made of wood, I realized that the train ride was the shortest part of me and Hermione's journey.

When the cab arrived I was almost surprised that it was not some donkey-draw carriage from the 1800's, instead, it was a little blue car with rusted headlights and lots of dents. This thing looked as if someone had put it in reverse and drove it through some kind of forest ... while blindfolded. I could tell that the windows had definitely been replaced. They looked like the newest things on the whole vehicle.

A fairly tall man with flaming red hair got out of the car and greeted us with a timid, flickering smile. He was pale in the moonlight and his thinning crown of ginger hair was nicely styled in a friendly, and what I would only label as a 'European' manner. 

"Hello, Hermione! I'm glad you've decided to come with us." His eyes trailed upon me and flashed back and forth between the two of us. "Ah, you must be Elle. For a second I had thought Hermione had put a duplication charm on herself, the clever girl." He chuckled and then stuck out his left hand for me to shake. "Arthur Weasley. Molly will be absolutely thrilled to see you two, and meet one of you for the first time, of course."

I shook his hand politely and studied this man up and down. From the story Hermione had told me about him getting into a fight with a classmate's dad, well, Arthur was not how I had pictured him. Mr. Weasley looked to be a kind man who got along well with anyone. This had me questioning the classmate's father as well.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Weasley." I grinned and grabbed my trunk, not wanting to forget it on the platform. Who knew how long it would be before we got to the 'Burrow'. "Sorry, but, uhm, where should I put this?"

Mr. Weasley clapped his hands together in excitement and motioned for us to follow him to the car. Popping open the trunk,  there was a nice spot for our things to fit snuggly. "I used to have an enchantment on this old thing that would enable it to fit six trunks and two rat cages, then on the interior you could seat eight people, and have room for more!" Mr. Weasley grinned, using his hands to express the wide space, but it slowly faded as his hands drooped to his sides. "But Molly, well, after that last problem... we decided it was too temperamental and we took all the enchantments off."

I didn't know whether to say 'sorry' or 'it sounds amazing' so I just kept my mouth shut, fidgetting with the handle on my bag as the quiet grew louder. First impressions were never my strong point.

Hermione crossed her arms and gave Mr. Weasley a disapproving glance. "Well, I agree with Mrs. Weasley. This thing practically exposed magic to Muggles! I would have had it incinerated to hide the evidence. I cannot believe Harry and Ron did such a thing two years ago."

Mr. Weasley nodded his head in a sort of submissive way to Hermione's logic. "All-righty girls, I've packed the car with sleeping bags so you guys can rest. It'll be some time before we actually get to the Burrow.  We have an early start tomorrow morning, so I suggest you get some sleep."

I opened the back door and did a double-take. Instead of the leather seats that I had predicted, the back seats were transformed into two mattresses that held sleeping bags. "Woah." I grinned at Mr. Weasley and he grinned back, making him look years younger.

"Please don't tell Molly you two; she would throw the fit of the century."

I crossed my heart, excited, while Hermione frowned and shook her head as if she wasn't enjoying the awesomeness of the car. "I thought you said Molly made you take off all of the enchantments?" She asked him while climbing into the back seat/bed.

As we started down the road, Mr. Weasley looked at us both in the rearview mirror, his eyes shining. "Well, what Molly does not know won't hurt her, right kids?"

I chuckled while she just rolled her eyes. I could tell that I would really get along with the Weasley's, in fact, I already loved Mr. Weasley and I have not known him for more than ten minutes. I could not believe how tired I was when my head hit the pillow. Yawning lightly, my world darkened and the last thing I remember was Hermione muttering something about cute pajamas.

_____________

Fun Fact: Lana actually lives in Montreal during the summer months. She's Canadian and French, but doesn't call herself French Canadian.

[10-YA A/N] one thing I have noticed while editing is that I never had the British characters use contractions.... Like... they're too elegant for that?? Lol