You Get What You Deserve

I was in Fred and George’s room, jumping from bed to bed, while they went about their business. A small explosion erupted from what they had been working on, causing a small cloud of thick, grey smoke to fill the room. I coughed, and landed lightly on the floor, making my way over to them.

“I can’t breathe,” I said coughing. “I’m going to go hang out with Ron.”

“OK, see you later then, Blondie,” they both said in unison.

I quickly left the room, still coughing. The hallway was much easier to breathe in; for one it didn’t have clouds of smoke floating around, and two, however much I loved the twins, they’re room smelt. Like any other fifteen year old guys room, it smelt horrible. You get kind of used to that smell after a while though, and you always have the fresh smell of explosions to help you.

I dragged myself up to Ron’s bedroom where he sat on his bed, looking at Scabbers.

“He hasn’t been looking right since Egypt,” he said when I walked in.

Mr Weasley had won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw. Mr and Mrs Weasley had decided that they were going to take us all to spend our summer holiday in Egypt, where the eldest Weasley brother, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts. We spent a month there, and now there were only a couple of days till we started back at Hogwarts again.

Egypt was great; Bill took us around all the tombs and you wouldn’t have believed the curses those old Egyptian wizards put on them. Ginny wasn’t even aloud to come into the last one. There were mutant skeletons of Muggles who’d broken in and grown extra heads.

“I’m sure he’s just a little sick or something,” I said, sitting down on Ron’s floor.

I picked up a book from the ground, while Ron started muttering under his breath. It had a light blue, hard cover, with vines and leaves darkened all over it. At the very top, in the middle, was a skull in a blue-black colour. Below that were the worlds ‘The Tales Of Beedle The Bard’.

“What’s this?” I asked Ron, as I flicked open the well loved book.

“What? That?” Ron said, looking up from his pet rat. “Oh; that’s an old kid’s book mum use to read to us.”

I scanned down the list of stories, before closing the book and chucking it onto the floor again; I didn’t feel like reading it just quite yet. I stretched out on Ron’s floor, getting comfortable. Ron was one of my three best friends at Hogwarts. He was great; and most of the time, like me, he was eating.

My other two best friends; Hermione and Harry, were just as great as Ron. Hermione, although she always sounded as though she had swallowed a textbook, was great to have around. Harry was almost always trying to be the hero, but still had enough time to sit down and talk to you.

“If you’re so worried about Scabbers,” I said to Ron, who was talking to his rat again. “Why don’t you get something for him at Diagon Alley when we go there in a couple of days.”

Ron nodded; Scabbers wriggling in his hands.