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Chapter 12: Ron
🕑 Added 2024-11-30 07:10:31 +0000 UTCThe train rumbled to life, beginning the journey to Hogwarts.
“Excuse me, is anyone sitting here?”
Harry looked toward the door, where a red-haired boy with freckles on his face stood nervously.
“No one,” Harry replied.
The boy thanked him, put his luggage away, and sat across from Harry. He looked nonchalant as he gazed out at the scenery, but he kept sneaking glances at Harry.
Harry thought, This red hair must mean he’s from that family.
“Hello,” Harry greeted him first. “I’m Harry Potter.”
“Ronald Weasley, but you can call me Ron,” the boy said, reaching out his hand in a manner that made him seem older than he was.
Weasley?
Harry’s heart skipped a beat as he quickly asked, “Weasley? You said your last name is Weasley?”
“That’s right,” Ron replied, a little confused.
Shouldn’t I be the one asking the questions? he thought. Asking about the famous savior and his incredible deeds? Why is the savior asking me instead...
But Harry’s mind was elsewhere, recalling Professor Matilda Weasley, the kind Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House who had taken good care of him back in school, as well as his good friend Gareth Weasley.
The two fell into silence for a moment before Ron decided to break it.
“So, are you really...”
He hesitated, remembering his mother’s advice, and swallowed back the question about Harry’s scar.
“Really what?” Harry asked.
“Did you really live with Muggles?” Ron asked awkwardly, changing the subject. “I heard that somewhere. Is it true?”
“Yes,” Harry nodded. “I live with my aunt and uncle. They’re all Muggles.”
“What are they like?” Ron asked.
“Not great—they’re very against magic,” Harry shrugged, then added wistfully, “I wish I had two brothers, though.”
“If you did, you’d know how annoying they are,” Ron shuddered at the thought. “And it’s not two—it’s five. I have five older brothers and a little sister.”
“Wow...” Harry said, genuinely impressed.
A big, lively family like that had always been his dream.
He had always wished for a few Potter siblings who would stand up for him when he was being bullied.
But Ron didn’t look too happy. “I’m the sixth in my family to go to Hogwarts. At home, Mum always expects me to follow in their footsteps—my oldest brother, Bill, was Head Boy; my second brother, Charlie, was Quidditch Captain; my third brother, Percy, just became a prefect; and Fred and George, even though they’re always goofing around, are brilliant and everyone thinks they’re so cool.”
“So you feel a lot of pressure,” Harry nodded understandingly. “Because your family expects you to live up to them.”
“No,” Ron said irritably. “When you’ve got five older brothers, you never get anything new. I wear Bill’s old robes, use Charlie’s old wand, and I’ve even got Percy’s hand-me-down rat.”
As he spoke, he pulled out a fat, sleeping rat from his pocket.
“Look, this is Scabbers,” Ron said helplessly. “He’s really old and sleeps all the time. Percy got an owl as a reward for becoming a prefect, so he gave me this leftover rat.”
Ron realized he’d been talking too much, so he clammed up and looked out the window.
He didn’t want his new friend to think poorly of him because of all this.
“Look, Ron,” Harry said, holding up his own clothes. “These are my cousin Dudley’s hand-me-downs. Look how baggy they are—like maternity clothes. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been wearing his old clothes. I’ve never had anything new. You see, Dudley’s the same age as me, but he’s huge, and I’m small, so I fit into his castoffs perfectly...”
There’s nothing quite like shared experiences to bring people closer.
Harry’s words made Ron feel less unlucky. He could tell Harry wasn’t just being polite—he really understood his situation.
Sharing embarrassing stories helped the two bond quickly.
As they talked, the train sped out of London.
At the same time, there was a clattering noise in the corridor.
A smiling woman with dimples slid the compartment door open and asked, “Anything from the trolley, dears?”
It was lunchtime. The train had departed promptly at eleven, and Harry, having angered Uncle Vernon earlier, hadn’t had time to eat breakfast.
He was starving.
“No, I’ve got sandwiches, thanks,” Ron said quietly, lowering his head.
Harry stood up and stepped into the corridor. “I’ll take some of everything, thanks.”
Even though he’d attended school for six years a century ago, he was still just sixteen at heart—a kid.
His resistance to snacks was there, but not very strong.
The trolley lady handed him one of everything. When Harry paid, he gave her a Galleon, three Sickles, and four Knuts.
Carrying his haul of treats back to the compartment, Harry noticed Ron staring at the snacks with wide, unblinking eyes.
Harry knew his new friend was tempted.
“You’re really hungry,” Ron said definitively.
“Yeah, starving,” Harry replied, pulling out a pumpkin pasty and handing it to Ron.
“No, mate,” Ron said, pulling out a sandwich from a paper bag. “Mum packed me sandwiches for the train... though she always forgets I hate corned beef.”
“Trade me for one. Go on, take it,” Harry offered the pasty.
“You won’t like it,” Ron said, sniffing. “She’s got five kids to take care of—she doesn’t have time—”
“It’s fine,” Harry said with a smile.
He finally convinced Ron to take the pasty. After one bite, Ron didn’t touch his sandwich again. Harry tactfully didn’t mention the sandwiches either, leaving his own untouched on the table.
“Not bad,” Harry said, biting into a cauldron cake. Then he pulled out a box of Chocolate Frogs.
“You even got Chocolate Frogs?” Ron asked in surprise.
“Yeah,” Harry replied, opening the box. “I bought some in Diagon Alley before. They come with cards, though I’m not really interested in those. The frogs themselves are pretty good.”
“Do me a favor, mate,” Ron said quickly. “If you get Agrippa or Ptolemy, save them for me, yeah?”
“No problem,” Harry agreed, flipping through the card.
“Oh, it’s Dumbledore!” he said softly.
