Ronald Weasley and the Mysterious Magical Rock

The Boy Who Lived

I watched my mum and sister disappear out of sight before I slowly walked down the train corridor. Most of the compartments were already full of students laughing, chatting, and catching up with each other after the summer. I spotted a seemingly empty compartment, but upon approaching it, I found the black-haired kid sitting alone inside; the one his brothers claimed was Harry Potter. I couldn't help thinking that the twins were trying to fool me, after all, wouldn't Harry Potter, the famous boy who defeated You-Know-Who be surrounded by adoring fans asking for his autograph? I took a deep breath in and decided to take my chances. I tentatively slid the compartment door open.

"Anyone sitting here?" I asked gesturing to the empty bench seat across from the boy, "Everywhere else is full." The boy shook his head, and I took a seat. I tried to non-obviously search for the iconic scar Harry was known to have, but the boy seemed to have noticed. Oops. I quickly looked away and guiltily looked out the window, hoping the boy hadn't noticed after all.

"Hey, Ron."

I turned to see the twins poking their heads into the compartment.

"Listen, we're going down to the middle of the train — Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there," Fred said. I felt a shiver travel through my whole body; I was terrified of spiders. Note to self: Avoid Lee Jordan and his horrible spider at all costs.

"Harry," said George, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then." So this really was Harry Potter!

"Are you really Harry Potter?" I heard myself say. The words spilled out of my mouth before I could do anything to stop them. The boy nodded, and I felt rather stupid.

"Oh -- well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," I said in an attempt to redeem myself, "And have you really got — you know..." I gestured to my forehead, and the boy lifted his fringe to reveal a lightning-shaped scar. I stared stupidly.

"So that's where You-Know-Who—?"

"Yea," said Harry Potter, "but I can't remember it."

"Nothing at all?" I pressed, feeling rather nosy.

"Well, I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."

"Wow," I said. I couldn't believe I was sitting in front of the Boy Who Lived! The one who, as an infant, stripped Voldemort of all his power! I had been talking to him!

I suddenly realised I was staring and quickly looked out the window again. Awkward.

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry. I was shocked. He sounded genuinely interested! Harry Potter wanted to talk to him! 

"Um — yes, I think so," I said stumbling over my words and probably making a massive fool of myself, "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we don't really talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already."

"Umm, no, I'm underage, and underage wizards can't really do magic at home," I explained, "I heard you went to live with Muggles, what are they like?"

"Horrible — well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle, and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."

"Five," I corrected. He had to be joking. Not only was having that many siblings somewhat tedious at times, I had to live in the shadow of five brothers, who were all legendary in their own ways.

"I'm the sixth in my family to go to Hogwarts," I explained, "You could say I've got a lot to live up to." As I told Harry about my brothers, I realised the full extent of what I was going to have to prove myself against. After all, Bill had been Head Boy, Charlie had been captain of the Quidditch team and the best seeker Hogwarts had seen in years, Percy was a Prefect, and Fred and George were smart, and everyone liked them.