Ron-Weasly book 1. V2

A children's fanfiction series about the adventures of Harry and Ron with their friend Hermione in 8 books. Added new scenes with Ron and interludes with Harry. All rights to the characters and the magical world belong to Rowling. When writing the work, books from 1 to 5 and the beginning of 6 were taken into account. Films were not taken into account at all, as was the cursed child.

Ron Weasley and the Philosopher's Stone

Ron Weasley — book 1.

Chapter 1 About the Weasley family and the chickens.

Nora's Kitchen November 1, 1981

The fox hole. another terrible morning in a country gripped by civil war. Molly Pruitt's ex is a typical housewife. She got married at school, to Arthur Weasley, and is already raising six children. Recently, in another skirmish with death eaters, she lost two brothers. At least the younger one is not involved in this war, no one in the magical world knows about him except his father, after all. Molly is due to give birth to her seventh child soon. The healer said it would be a girl this time. Well, finally. Although the problem is with birth control charms, for some reason they don't always work for Arthur. And Molly kept wanting to have a baby girl, so she didn't have an abortion. Although Arthur suggested making an amulet in the form of a ring with protection against sudden flight.

Her husband works for the Ministry of Magic in the department of protection of Muggles from magic. And with his laws, he crossed the path of many pure-blooded families. Along with his eldest son, he participates in the Dumbledore showdown and is a member of the Order of the Phoenix. The older children decided to send them to another country after the frequent murders of wizard families. Especially after the deaths of Molly's older brothers. Bill is going to go to Egypt to work with goblins. Charlie is in his fifth year at Hogwarts High School and is about to leave for Romania to visit the Dragon Reserve. They are ready to accept him from the owls, even without a TOAD. Although my mother is against working with dragons. But it's far from Britain, so she nevertheless agreed with a creaking heart. And the dragon sanctuary has its own magical laws, and Charlie will be under the protection of his elders in the guild until he becomes a dragonologist.

* * *

Evening. Nora's kitchen. Molly is standing by the stove, cooking another chicken noodle soup, and a tired Arthur Weasley comes into the room.

"Arthur! Arthur! Did you hear that?! They say the one who cannot be named killed the Potters."

"Yes, dear. Unfortunately, this is the case." her tired husband answers her. Eight challenges across the country...

"Oh, Arthur." Molly burst into Tears. "And little Harry? What's wrong with him?"

"He is alive. Albus said that the one who must not be named tried to kill him and disembodied. All magicians celebrate the fall of the dark Lord and his knights. They don't give a damn what Muggles say."

"But what will happen to the baby next, Arthur?"

"I don't know Molly. They'll probably give it to their relatives. It's not clear right now. Black betrayed them, and he's Harry's godfather."

"Molly clutched her chest. She sat down heavily on a chair."

"Arthur, how come? Wasn't James like a brother to him?!"

"I don't know Molly, but the Aurors say he killed Peter and twelve Muggles before he was arrested. They'll put him in Azkaban under a simplified procedure, so Harry will be given to his relatives. Maybe the Potters who went to America will take him away. He's their nephew. Although Charles was against James marrying Lily. Dorea especially didn't like her. Supposedly a Muggle-born and the wife of a fifteenth-generation pureblood magician. And James kept saying that the blood was stagnant and it was time to dilute it. Necromancers are born in the family again instead of artefactors. James was born a necromancer himself, although he dreamed of making artifacts. Even the ancestral artifact of Perevel recognized him.

* * *

Nine years later.

Some kind of infection passed some of the chickens at night. I came to collect the eggs, and there the whole coop is covered in feathers and blood. I would have thought of foxes, but protection from them is still worthwhile. That's what Mom said. Dad later said that he was making an amulet from foxes, and cursing, he grumbled that it was clearly someone magical.

It was most likely a moon fox, judging by the tracks at the coop. And the smell is more grassy, rather than the kind left by ordinary foxes. Mom treated the coop for diseases brought by the fox and, swearing, complained that there would definitely be no eggs for the next two months — the laying hens were very scared. They just need to be slaughtered, although mom said she would buy new ones, and these should just be given time and vitamin potions to recover.

I was shocked at first, because moon foxes live in the foothills and do not come to our hilly plains. It is written about this in the tales of foxes. But I guess she's the only one who's stopped by for free chicken. I asked Percy for a textbook on UZMS and found the Moon Foxes.

Yeah, migration means once in a century. I told Dad that one of the moon foxes might have migrated closer to us from the foothills, on their way to the Alshen Mountains. The old trail passed through us earlier.

We decided to set up an ambush at night, putting an improved protective net on the coop, with antimagic runes in some places behind the common shield. They work well against moon foxes, but kitsune will easily bypass them. But we need to figure out who's messing with us. Kitsune is fine, she came, played with the chickens and left, but ordinary foxes, although magical, will come and devour us all in the coop, you can't even buy new chickens while the fox is hunting.

And then it got dark. A silver-white fox ran out of the forest, with slightly glowing fur in the dark. She approaches the new barrier, calmly touched it with her paw and went inside, but when she ran into a grid with runes, she stopped. The fur has tarnished. The fox barks angrily and turns around and leaves.

The next morning, Mom decides to buy new chickens. And the old chickens that survived should be quarantined.

* * *

A month later

I froze on the threshold of the coop, looking at the bustling yellow chickens. Unfortunately, our laying hens have stopped laying, and the quarantine has not yet passed.

"Mom..." I turned to my mom, who was putting food in the trough. "All the broilers are there. Didn't you say you'd order some laying hens from the Ebots?"

Molly sighed, straightened up, and wiped her hands on her apron.

"That's what I wanted, Ron. Truth. But after the magic fox scared our chickens, they stopped laying altogether. They also fought among themselves. Lex the vet said they needed rest and vitamins for at least a month. And we need to eat something. The Weasley boys can't live without a chicken, I noticed that a long time ago. Our family has a craving for chicken, like ordinary foxes."

Mom squatted down next to the chickens scurrying around the trough. The young roosters opened their wings in a funny way and covered the food from each other.

"Besides, you know Dad.... He spent half his salary on his Ford Anglia again. He says he took out a loan to buy a car and it needs to be paid off. Bill and Charlie are trying to help us, but they're saving up for housing. I had to look for a cheaper place."

I frowned, but not so angry anymore.

"And you decided to shop at the Neil chicken farm?"

"Well, Ronnie, we'll buy from the Ebots later," Mom smiled. "They are not at all expensive to take from them a large increase in broiler chickens this month. He said these broilers grow fast and eat little. We will raise them, there will be meat for the whole family. And then, when things get better, we'll buy more laying hens from the Ebots, if ours don't lay, bigger and better ones. In the meantime, you can buy beef on diagon Alley from farmers from the foothills."

I looked at the big yellow chickens that were poking their beaks into my shoes. My stomach made a soft rumble, and I blushed. Well, I love the chicken coop.

"Well," I drawled, trying to look serious, "I'm upset about the eggs, of course. But... I licked my lips, "fried chicken is not bad either. And Ginny makes great chicken soup. Mom, can you go past the beef and buy some pork for Fred and George and me?"

Molly laughed and ruffled my hair.

"You like smoked beef, my practical boy."

"Mom, I love pork, how many times do I have to tell you. Can I take care of our laying hens?"

"Oh, I forgot again, you look so much like Bill, Roni. Come on, I'll show you where we have vitamins for our laying hens. And at the same time, we'll figure out how to strengthen the coop so that the foxes don't get in anymore, otherwise Ali complained that we have a pack of magical foxes nearby."

"Yoo Hana complained last week that their chicken coop was almost ruined.

I nodded, already smiling:

"Of course, I will help. Maybe we should try to put up a magical defense? I was just reading about the fox scaring runes...."

Molly winked at him:

"Now that's a deal! My resourceful son. Let's go prepare a rescue plan for our chickens."

Interlude 1 Harry learns to cook.

The kitchen of the Dursleys' house on Privet Drive, early summer morning. Petunia stands at the stove, stirring oatmeal in milk. The favorite delicacy of an unloved nephew. Ten-year-old Harry is standing nearby, diligently cutting bread for toast. Dudley is still asleep, he only came back in the evening yesterday, after walking with friends. So he sleeps it off, and then goes for a walk again. And Harry gets up early in the morning with his aunt.

Petunia glances at her nephew, stirring the porridge, and says sternly, but not maliciously:

"Cut the bread more evenly, Harry. Toasts should be the same thickness, otherwise they will roast unevenly. And don't press the knife so hard against the board — you'll only get tired faster that way. Keep it steady, but easy."

Almost all of my aunt's attention is occupied with porridge, she also likes to eat it for breakfast. But Dudley, like her husband, prefers scrambled eggs and bacon. Although my aunt sometimes makes them omelets. Harry nods, trying to follow his aunt's movements. He learned to cook from the age of eight. His fingers are already deft, but he keeps a close eye on Aunt Petunia's hands. She promised that if he cooked well, she and Uncle Vernon would pay for him to attend a prestigious culinary college. Aunt Petunia told me that she learned to cook there herself, and then worked as a chef in a restaurant until Dudley was born.

Harry watches as his aunt stirs the porridge.

"Why doesn't the oatmeal stick to this pan? Mrs. Figg's always burns. We cooked together several times. She constantly grumbles that it's because she's not a magician. And she talks incessantly about the cats that used to live with her. Aunt Petunia, are you a witch?"

Petunia smiles a little.

"Because I stir it in time and keep the heat on medium. And I chose a saucepan with a thick bottom. Magic has nothing to do with it, Harry, it's just an experience. And don't you dare say something like that in front of Vernon, or he'll lock you in the closet again. You know how nervous he is about everything.

Ten minutes later, the porridge is almost ready.

"You will set the table. Dudley will be awake soon, and Vernon will be down in twenty minutes. Everything should be ready."

Harry nods and begins to arrange the plates, cups, and spoons. He already knows that Uncle Vernon drinks tea with two lumps of sugar, aunt — without sugar, and Dudley — with three spoons and milk. And don't forget a cup of tea.

Harry timidly asks

"Aunt, can I make an omelet with sausage or scrambled eggs with bacon for Uncle Vernon today?"

Petunia thinks about it, then nods to herself.

"Harry's scrambled eggs, take the sliced bacon out of the fridge."

They cook together. Petunia puts her favorite porridge on deep plates for Harry and herself, and the kid roasts bacon first, and then pours eggs into the pan.

Petunia puts porridge on plates and grumbles:

"Not bad. Your bacon is not too dry this time. It will be even better next time."

Harry smiles, which is almost a compliment.

"Today we will learn how to cook chicken soup with egg noodles."

"Aunt Petunia, will you teach me how to cook your signature meat pie? Well, the one you make for the holidays."

The boy asks timidly.

"Later, Harry. For now, let's learn how to cook simpler dishes properly."

* * *

Six months later, Petunia decided to teach Harry how to cook her signature meat pie. Six months later, Petunia decided to teach Harry how to cook her signature meat pie.

The woman washes her hands and takes out fresh chilled pork meat from the refrigerator.

"First we'll make minced meat. Put the meat through a meat grinder, but not too finely. We need a texture."

Harry cuts the meat into pieces and turns the handle of the meat grinder, trying to take his time. Young Harry is interested in everything, he really wants to repeat his aunt's pie.

"Why add onions and garlic to the meat? They will be felt." Harry wipes his tears with a napkin. Petunia, calms the kid down. She puts aside the peeled and finely chopped onion.

"They will, but not abruptly. They give a depth of taste. And don't forget to chop the garlic finely — large pieces will spoil the whole impression."

She shows you how to knead the dough, how to roll it out smoothly, and how to lay out the meat filling. Harry watches carefully, memorizing the movements.

"Now make incisions on top of the dough — shallow so that steam escapes. And brush with egg for a ruddy crust."

Harry breaks an egg to get the yolk and smears the top of the pie with a brush.

When the pie goes into the oven, Petunia says something like praise for the first time:

"You're doing great. You're attentive to details. This is important in cooking. You'll enjoy college, just like I did at the time."

Harry smiles. For him, these words mean more than any reward. Later, at Hogwarts, these skills helped Harry out more than once:

— He could make a simple breakfast in the common room by the fireplace while the rest of the students were still asleep and Ron was out jogging;

— I've shared food with Ron more than once, who sometimes forgot to eat because he was so engrossed in playing magic chess with set pieces in magical autonomy mode; The game sometimes dragged on, but dinner had already passed. And Hermione used to stay up late reading.

— In difficult times, he knew how to keep his strength up with simple but satisfying food.