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HRHL# Chapter 122: Ron’s Golden Idea
🕑 Added 2025-03-15 19:58:07 +0000 UTCThe first thing Harry saw upon returning to the Burrow was a garden gnome hurtling toward his face, growing larger in his vision by the second.
Fortunately, his reflexes were quick, and he narrowly avoided being smacked by the flying gnome.
With an agile sidestep, Harry looked toward the Weasley family’s vegetable garden.
The entire Weasley family was in the garden, gleefully de-gnoming the place, with Ron enjoying himself the most. He was swinging the gnomes around like windmills before launching them into the air.
The garden was filled with a chorus of "Let me go!" cries, but it was futile—the gnomes were being flung one after another without mercy.
"Hey, Harry!"
Seeing Harry, Ron wiped the sweat off his forehead and greeted him. "You're back?"
"Yeah, I’m back," Harry replied with a grin. "Need a hand? Want me to join in the gnome-tossing?"
As he spoke, he stepped forward and crouched beside a peony bush near Ron.
Being a Seeker had its perks—Harry’s sharp eyes immediately spotted a sneaky little gnome hiding among the leaves.
The gnome looked up and, upon realizing it had been caught, bared its teeth in an awkward grin.
Harry didn't hesitate. He grabbed the gnome, swung it up into the air, and then delivered a perfect kick, sending it soaring in a beautiful arc while it shrieked all the way into the distance.
Ron shaded his eyes with his hand, tracking the gnome’s trajectory. He couldn’t help but praise, "Nice shot, Harry... but we’re almost done here. Mum’s making stewed potatoes for dinner tonight—you’re in for a treat."
"Really?" Harry was delighted. After all, potato stew was one of his favorites.
"By the way, how’s Poppy?" Ron asked.
"Poppy wasn’t feeling too well, so I left her with a friend to help her recover," Harry explained. "I’m hoping he has a good way to treat her."
"Oh." Ron nodded, then remembered the attack in the Forbidden Forest that Harry had mentioned before. "I hope she gets better soon. I still remember how she got bitten by You-Know-Who—"
"She wasn’t bitten," Harry corrected. "Voldemort just cast a curse on her. He chased us for a long time, and just when he was about to strike, I managed to stop him."
Hearing the name, Ron shuddered.
"That still sounds painful, mate." Ron sighed. "She really is one tough lady, isn’t she?"
"She is," Harry agreed with a nod.
--
Far away in Paris, after finishing an alchemical treatment on Poppy, Mr. Flamel sat on the sofa, lost in thought for a long time.
Poppy had dozed off for a while. When she awoke and saw Mr. Flamel still staring into space, she asked with concern, "What’s wrong, Mr. Flamel?"
Mr. Flamel looked up, blinked, and said, "Ah, nothing. It’s just that when you get to my age, you don’t sleep much... So sometimes I just sit here and stare into the distance until dawn, then take a short nap."
"Doesn’t that affect your health?" Poppy asked in confusion.
Mr. Flamel slowly turned his head, giving her a look filled with the kind of pity one reserves for someone asking a truly naive question.
That gaze seemed to say—Are you seriously talking to a six-hundred-year-old man about health?
Poppy chuckled sheepishly. Then she suddenly remembered the gift Harry had brought and said, "Oh, right! Mr. Flamel, Harry brought a present for you and Mrs. Flamel. I remember he mentioned that it was perfect for an old man with too much free time—would you like to give it a try?"
When Harry had arrived at Flamel’s alchemy lab, he had handed the gift to the house-elf, Deek.
But Deek had been too busy introducing his wife and children to Harry and had completely forgotten about it.
Now that Poppy mentioned it, Deek finally remembered.
"My apologies, Mr. Flamel, that was my mistake."
"No matter. Where is the gift?" Mr. Flamel asked with interest. "If Harry said it’s suitable for me, I should certainly give it a try."
A moment later, Deek brought out the gift—a classic 486 desktop computer, which had cost Harry over two thousand pounds.
Harry had even gone the extra mile, having the latest Windows 3.1 operating system (released in April) installed, along with a few small games.
Flamel’s alchemy lab was equipped with electricity, and with Poppy’s guidance, the computer was soon powered on.
As expected of a legendary alchemist, Mr. Flamel quickly grasped how to operate the computer just by reading the manual.
"I must admit, Muggle technology is quite impressive."
He moved the mouse, eyes focused on the monitor as he aimlessly clicked around, refreshing the screen repeatedly.
"But... how exactly does this help pass the time?"
As he spoke, Mr. Flamel suddenly noticed an icon on the desktop labeled Sid Meier’s Civilization I—a game that had received widespread acclaim since its release last year.
"What’s this?" He curiously double-clicked the icon.
--
Twenty hours later
Mr. Flamel yawned and glanced out the window.
"Huh? Why is it dark already?" he asked.
"No, Mr. Flamel," Poppy said, her expression dark. "It’s already the next day."
Mr. Flamel paused. He looked down at the mouse in his hand, then at the window, then back at the computer screen.
"I think I’ve discovered a new purpose in life," he said lightly. "For instance... computers. But this electricity-powered setup doesn’t quite suit wizarding households. Let me think..."
--
Harry, of course, had no idea that his gift had turned an ancient alchemist into an internet addict. With September 1st fast approaching, he was preparing to return to school.
Before leaving, he received a letter from Mr. Flamel, explaining that Poppy needed a few more days to recover and reassuring him not to worry.
On the morning of their departure, they woke at the first crow of the rooster. After a hurried breakfast, Mr. Weasley gathered everyone together.
"Got all your things?" Mr. Weasley asked cheerfully.
"All packed, Dad," the kids replied in unison. Most of their luggage was stored inside Harry’s enchanted wallet, making everything much more convenient.
Mr. Weasley stood beside the old Ford Anglia, patting the car’s hood.
"Come on, kids, all aboard!"
Harry hesitated as he eyed the car. "Um... can we all fit in there?"
He did the math—Aunt Molly and Uncle Arthur would sit in the front, which meant that in the back, he would be squeezed in with five Weasley children.
But this was clearly a sedan, and the back seat could at most fit three people.
This immediately reminded him of something he'd seen on TV at the Dursleys’—those Indians—
Good heavens, a single van had somehow managed to fit more than thirty people inside.
“Don’t worry, Harry.” Mr. Weasley smiled kindly. “Not only can you all fit, even if Bill and Charlie were here, there’d still be room.”
Fred and George climbed in first, followed by Percy, Ginny, and Ron.
“Hurry up!” Ron reached out to pull Harry in.
Harry stepped into the car, only to be stunned by how impossibly spacious the back seat was—it was even wider than the long benches in the Great Hall.
“Muggles are much cleverer than we give them credit for,” Mrs. Weasley said. “From the outside, you’d never guess it could be this roomy inside, would you?”
“Yes—” the five children answered in unison, dragging out the word.
Harry had half-expected Mr. Weasley to make the car fly, but he didn’t. Instead, he drove all the way onto the motorway just like a Muggle, even striking up enthusiastic conversations with them at the toll booths.
“This is really fascinating, isn’t it?” Mr. Weasley pulled his head back in from the car window. “We don’t have to pay on the way in, but on the way back, they charge us…”
“So, you’re definitely flying back, right?” Fred suddenly asked.
George immediately chimed in, “Honestly, Dad, how could you not let us experience what it’s like to fly?”
The twins started nudging Ginny’s arm.
Ginny caught on and said, “Dad, you’re really not cool at all.”
And what father could bear being told he wasn’t cool by his own daughter? Hearing his little princess say such a thing, Mr. Weasley immediately responded, “Alright then, since my children insist…”
He placed his hand on a lever.
“No, Arthur!” Mrs. Weasley bellowed.
“But Molly, the children—” Mr. Weasley tried to defend himself.
“I said no, Arthur!” Mrs. Weasley glared at her husband. “It’s broad daylight! What if someone sees? You could lose your job over this!”
“No one will see, Molly.” Mr. Weasley was still determined to be a cool dad. “Look, this is an Invisibility Booster—just one press of this button, and the car will disappear…”
But seeing the look on his wife’s face, Mr. Weasley ultimately backed down.
“Alright, kids, this doesn’t mean your father isn’t cool.” He sighed in resignation.
By the time they arrived at King’s Cross Station, it was already 10:30.
But that was fine; they still had half an hour, plenty of time to get through.
After parking the car, the Weasleys and Harry stepped out one after another, to the astonishment of the surrounding crowd.
Harry’s ears were sharp enough to catch snippets of conversation in the crowd, including mentions of “India.”
When they reached the barrier, they came to a stop.
“Percy first, then Fred and George,” Mrs. Weasley instructed. “Ginny, darling, your father and I will take you through. Ron and Harry, you two follow right behind me.”
Following her directions, Percy and the twins passed through the barrier one after another.
Finally, it was Ron and Harry’s turn. The two of them moved toward the wall—
“Wait a second.” Harry suddenly grabbed Ron’s arm, frowning. “Something… doesn’t feel right.”
“What do you mean?” Ron asked as he continued walking forward—only to slam his forehead into the wall with a dull thud.
That was a solid hit.
“Ha ha ha…” Harry burst out laughing at Ron’s misfortune.
“Oh, shut up, Harry.”
Ron scowled but then let out a chuckle himself.
“I think we should figure something out,” he said. “The train leaves soon, and if we miss it, the professors will punish us!”
“Don’t you think this is strange?” Harry scrutinized the barrier leading to the platform. “There’s still over twenty minutes before departure—it shouldn’t be closed off yet…”
Just as he finished speaking, a familiar voice rang out behind them.
“Harry, Ron?”
“Hermione!” Ron grinned. He glanced behind her, but her parents were nowhere in sight. “How come you’re alone? Where are your parents?”
“They had to go back home for something,” Hermione said, looking slightly troubled. “Dad mentioned that the pound isn’t doing so well lately and wants to exchange some for U.S. dollars.”
“Oh.” Since the topic was beyond his understanding, Ron didn’t press further. Instead, he said, “Well, I wouldn’t recommend running into the barrier—seems like the magic on it has failed. The fake wall turned real.”
“Really?” Hermione asked, skeptical.
“If you don’t believe me, look at this.” Ron lifted his hair to reveal his swollen forehead.
Hermione instinctively reached for her wand to cast a healing spell but, seeing all the Muggles around, decided against it.
“The priority now is figuring out how to get onto the platform,” Ron said anxiously. “If we miss the train and get a warning or lose House points, my parents will kill me!”
“No time to explain,” Harry said. “I’ll just try breaking the spell—”
“No, Harry!” Hermione grabbed his arm. “We’re not allowed to do magic outside of school! Think about the warning letter you got before—you could be expelled! You could end up in Azkaban!”
An idea suddenly popped into Ron’s head.
“Wait, I’ve got it! We can take the car! Dad’s car!”
“The car?” Hermione frowned. “Do you even know the route? I mean, from London to the Scottish Highlands—which roads to take?”
“I don’t, but the car can fly,” Ron said smugly. “We can just follow the Hogwarts Express all the way there…”
Just as he finished speaking, Mr. Weasley’s voice came from behind him.
“I have to admit, that’s a pretty good idea,” he said, “if I hadn’t just overheard it. Alright, kids, problem’s solved—let’s go.”
Ron shrugged, a little disappointed that he wouldn’t get to experience a high-speed aerial adventure.
To be honest, flying up there might’ve been pretty fun.
Upon stepping onto Platform 9¾, Harry immediately saw Fred and George standing there, looking dejected.
“That prank went too far!” Mrs. Weasley scolded furiously. “Merlin’s beard, if your father hadn’t noticed in time, Harry and little Ronnie would’ve been stuck outside!”
Ron was stunned. He hadn’t expected that his encounter with the wall was actually the result of one of his brothers’ pranks.
Then again, he quickly accepted it—this wasn’t the first time his twin brothers had messed with him. In fact, it wasn’t even the worst prank they’d pulled.
“Oh, so they’re the troublemakers?” Hermione asked, tilting her head slightly. Her prominent front teeth glinted in the sunlight.
“Hello, Hermione, dear.” Mrs. Weasley turned to greet her. “Yes, you’re absolutely right—these two are walking disasters—”
“We are not!” the twins protested in unison.
