0416 The Weasleys

0416 The Weasleys

Just a second before Ron uttered the names of the two young men, Harry had already guessed who they were. As they had passed through the living room earlier, the magical clock's hands representing these two young men had also pointed to the 'home' position.

Ron's joke was clearly not the first time it had been made in the house, as Charlie and Bill just pursed their lips, showing a hint of resignation, before their expressions returned to normal.

"How are you faring, Harry?" The brother standing nearest to Harry broke into a wide, genuine grin. He extended a large, calloused hand towards Harry. As Harry grasped it, he could feel the numerous calluses and blisters on the man's palm and fingers. This, Harry guessed, must be Charlie, who studied dragons in Romania.

Charlie's physique was a stark contrast to some of his siblings. Where Percy and Ron were tall and lanky, almost beanpole-like in their slenderness, Charlie was built more like the twins, Fred and George. His frame was sturdy and compact, with the kind of muscular build that comes from constant physical exercise. His face was broad and so densely freckled that it almost appeared to be a uniform shade of brown. On one of his muscular forearms, a large, shiny burn scar stood out.

As Harry's gaze shifted to the other brother, Bill stepped forward to shake his hand as well. Bill's appearance caught Harry off guard, opposing the mental image he had constructed based on the snippets of information he'd learned over the years.

Harry had known that Bill worked for Gringotts, the wizarding bank, and was Head Boy during his time at Hogwarts. These facts had led Harry to imagine Bill as something of an older, more polished version of Percy – perhaps a bit stuffy, overly concerned with rules and regulations, and prone to bossing others around.

But Bill was nothing like that. He looked... well, cool. He was the tallest of the brothers, with long hair tied back in a ponytail and an earring with a fang-like pendant. Bill's clothes wouldn't have looked out of place at a rock concert, a far cry from the buttoned-up image Harry had made in his mind

Truthfully, it was impossible not to be curious.

Harry had never interacted with Charlie or Bill before, and his most vivid impression of them undoubtedly came from the stories he'd heard from Hagrid during those times when Professor Watson was still working as an investigator.

He couldn't think of Bill and Charlie as wizards from the same year as Professor Watson.

Although Charlie and Bill were Ron's oldest brothers and had already come of age and started working, they still possessed a youthful temperament that Harry could easily relate to, Professor Watson, on the other hand, seemed as composed as Dumbledore, Even when standing side by side with him, Professor Watson's demeanor never seemed out of place or inappropriate.

Bill seemed to read the curiosity in Harry's expression like an open book. He tilted his head slightly, a small furrow appearing between his brows as he considered Harry's unspoken questions.

"Well, if you're really curious, Harry—" he began, his voice carrying a hint of both amusement and something akin to nostalgia. "I suppose I could spare some time after we've had dinner to tell you what Bryan was like during our school days."

Harry sank onto the edge of the bed, taking a moment to catch his breath after the exertion of moving his trunk. His curiosity, piqued by the earlier disturbances, finally got the better of him. "What's the deal with Fred and George?" he asked, his gaze flickering towards the ceiling as if he could see through it to the source of the commotion. "That noise we heard earlier – that was them, wasn't it?"

Ron's expression was a mixture of resignation and bewilderment as he responded, "They've been at it all summer long. Constant bangs, flashes, and strange smells wafting from their room. No one seems to know exactly what they're up to in there."

After Ron spoke, Harry told Ron and Hermione about what had happened when he left the Dursleys. Ron and Hermione had completely different views on his actions in helping the Dursleys out of trouble.

"You're wasting your time, mate," Ron said, his tone matter-of-fact as he fished out a slightly crumpled packet of crisps from his bedside table. With a practiced motion, he tore open the packet and offered some to both Harry and Hermione before helping himself. Between noisy swallows, he continued, a hint of disappointment coloring his words, "You shouldn't have stopped Sirius, Harry. You should have let those Muggles get a proper taste of what it's like to be locked in a cupboard. That's the only way they'd really learn their lesson, you know?"

However, Hermione interjected with a sarcastic edge to her voice, "And then what, Ron? Let Sirius take a little holiday back in Azkaban?" She fixed Ron with a stern look, reminding him of Professor McGonagall. "Don't forget, the Ministry isn't exactly known for their leniency when it comes to wizards using magic to torment Muggles. They take that sort of thing rather seriously."

Ron, however, was not so easily swayed. He argued back, his voice rising slightly with conviction, "That's hard to say. Just look at Malfoy's dad and Snape. They seem to be getting away with all sorts of questionable behavior without so much as a slap on the wrist!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously at Ron's words. "If you truly want Sirius to become the kind of wizard that Lucius Malfoy is, then I'm afraid I have nothing more to say on the matter."

Harry was used to Hermione and Ron's bickering and he was also very familiar with how to stop their arguments. He was about to tell them about his scar hurting during the summer when Ginny suddenly pushed open the door.

Ginny, Ron's younger sister, stood in the doorway. Her cheeks were flushed a shade of pink as her eyes met Harry's. "Hello, Harry," she said, her voice carrying a hint of shyness that she couldn't quite hide. "Happy birthday—"

"Oh, thanks—" Harry responded standing up from the bed, smiling at Ginny.

Ron, observing his sister's flushed cheeks and slightly flustered demeanor, just shrugged. He had long since grown accustomed to Ginny's infatuation with Harry.

With a casual air, Ron crumpled up the now-empty crisp packet and tossed it out the open window. He dusted off his hands, scattering crisp crumbs onto the already cluttered floor, and said, "Come on, we might as well head downstairs and lend a hand. I caught a glimpse of Sirius and the others setting up for your birthday dinner out in the yard earlier."

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