Ron-Weasly book 2

We quickly left the kitchen and walked down a narrow hallway to a lopsided staircase that ran up through the house. On the third landing, the door to the room was open. As we passed by, the door slammed shut.

"This is Ginny," I explained. "She's so shy, and it really torments her. Actually, her door is always wide open."

They walked down two more flights and stopped at a peeling door with a sign on it: "Roland's Room."

I was named after a knight, and Harry was actually Harold, I asked. However, he says his aunt indicated it in the documents.

I opened the door, and Harry and I found ourselves in a small room with a low, sloping ceiling that almost touched the top of his head. I used to hook the ceiling with my head in low places where the roof went downhill. Everything in the room was ablaze with shades of bright orange: the bedspread, the walls, even the ceiling. Every inch of the old wallpaper was covered with posters depicting the same seven witches and wizards in bright orange cloaks, holding a broom in one hand, waving greetings with the other. How much time did Bill and Charlie take for that... I wish they had bought me a new wand. Even though I asked for a new one at the beginning of the summer, I was told that I would have to suffer for a year or two because of Gini.

"What is your favorite team?" Harry asked.

"Peddle guns," I replied, waving my hand at the orange bedspread, which was decorated with two huge black letters "P" and a flying cannonball. "Ninth place in the League."

School textbooks lay in uneven piles in the corner of the room, next to comics, almost the entire series "Patrick Piggs, the Crazy Muggle." On the windowsill is a sun-drenched aquarium full of frog eggs, with a magic wand on it. Charlie asked to breed some magical frogs. They say they are very tasty. Nearby, a fat gray rat is dozing in the sun.

Harry stepped over a self-shuffling deck of cards and looked out the small window. He turned to me, and I froze nervously, waiting for the verdict.

"It's a little small, of course," I said. "Not like your room at the Dursleys. And definitely under the nook of a ghoul. He's up there in the attic, howling and banging on the pipes."

"I think it's the most beautiful house in the world." Harry said happily, smiling all over his face.

I felt my ears turn pink.

"Make yourself comfortable, I'll go get a cot now."

"Where to?"

"Into the basement. We have a warehouse there and Mamina's potion factory."

"All kinds of healing and strengthening potions. Mind you, she'll feed them to you. You're so skinny."

Part 2.

Our house was a mess. Something was constantly making itself felt in him: it was making noise, knocking, falling. Mirrors gave advice. There was a ghoul in the attic who sometimes felt that life in the house was too quiet and measured. And he began to howl, accompanying himself with blows on the water pipes. And there was always something exploding in the twins' room. I'm used to this, but Harry was scared at first. But then I got used to it. He even started sticking his tongue out at the mirror when it talked about a comb.

Mom gave us a pair of fresh socks every morning, and at each meal she stuffed several supplements into Harry. After all, my friend is so skinny. At dinner, his father would sit Harry down next to him and bombard him with questions about Muggle life. He was particularly concerned about electrical appliances and the work of the postal service.

"Well, well!" he rubbed his hands in anticipation, having heard from Harry about the phone. How many things they made up! And what else can they do without magic? Well, I'll sort it out and enchant it. And then I'll install it at home.

A week after we arrived at the Burrow, we received letters from Hogwarts. It was a clear, sunny morning. Dad, Mom, and Jeanie were already having breakfast in the kitchen, and Harry and I soon came down. In the blink of an eye, she ducked under the table for a bowl and came back out red as a crab. Harry sat down in his seat and took a plate full of toast from his mother's hands. And he looked at his friend with displeasure. He'll be chewing naked bread again.

"Harry, honey, take some orange jam."

"Thank you, Aunt Molly."

"Here, take some more tea, don't eat it in dry water. Ron, do you want another chop?"

"Yes, thanks Mom."

We began to eat. When we were just finishing breakfast, Dad appeared in the kitchen.

"Boys, there are letters for you from school." With that, my father handed Harry and me an envelope each. The envelopes were identical, made of yellow parchment with the address written in green ink. "McGonagall already knows that we have you, nothing will escape her."

The door opened and Fred and George came into the kitchen, both still in their pajamas.

"We've finally arrived. This is for you." Dad handed the twins the same envelopes.

The kitchen was quiet for about five minutes. We plunged into reading. Outside, my parents and I go in search of Harry. We walked down the street. So it's like Hagrid is coming. He even took off his favorite jacket and was wearing pants and a plaid shirt. And who's next to him? Well, he's dirty.... Where did that get him?

"Harry!" Taking a deep breath and waving his hand in greeting, my father shouted. "We were hoping you didn't get past one of the bars." He wiped his shiny bald spot. "Molly was almost crazy with worry.

Dad summoned the silver fox and sent it to his mother, saying:

"Molly, dear, Harry has been found. We're at the bank."

"Which fireplace did you come out of, Harry?" I asked.

"I don't know."

"He disembarked at Lyutny Lane," Hagrid knitted his thick eyebrows. Holy shit... It's dangerous even for adult wizards to enter there.

"Holy shit!" The twins exclaimed.

"We are strictly forbidden to go there..." I said gloomily.

"That's a good thing! It won't take long to disappear there", Hagrid croaked.

"Harry! My dear! Found it!" Mom was racing toward us at full speed, waving her purse with one hand and dragging Ginny with the other. "Harry! Darling! You could have died!" But she's right. If it wasn't for Hagrid, I wouldn't have seen my best friend again. Only adult magicians risk entering this hotbed of crime, and then only armed almost to the teeth. Running over, Mom instantly took an enchanted clothes brush out of her bag and began to sweep away the soot from Harry's robes. And Dad took Harry's glasses off his nose and touched them with a magic wand, one, two, and the glasses are as good as new! By the way, why hasn't he bought new ones yet? Did he even check his eyesight, or is he still wearing old glasses? Judging by their appearance, he had them since childhood. He should ask Hermione to find him new glasses. She has to understand them. Magicians mostly use potions. Glasses are worn either for solidity or artefactors when working.

"However, I have to go, see you at school," Hagrid said goodbye, pulling his hand out of his mother's, who still couldn't calm down:

"Lyutny lane! And if you hadn't found it!" His mother was wailing over Harry.

The forester moved in the opposite direction to Lyutny Lane, towering over passersby by almost a head. And our whole company went to the bank.

"Guess who I saw at the Gorbin and Burks store?" Harry asked Hermione and me. And then he answered himself: "Malfoy and his father!" What, did that pompous dark one drag a child there?!

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything there?" Dad asked eagerly. He's had a thing for Malfoy since the wizarding war.

"No, he sold it himself."

"Ah, he got nervous." My father was clearly pleased. "I wish I could catch him on something!"

"Be careful, Arthur," Mom said sternly, following the goblin, who was bowing low, into the bank. "This family is dangerous. Don't dig into a piece that you can't swallow!"

"Do you think I'm no match for Malfoy?" the father was indignant. But then he saw Hermione's parents and immediately forgot about him. The Grangers were standing at the counter that ran along the walls of the marble lobby. They were waiting for Hermione to introduce them, and they were visibly worried.

"Hello, friends!" Their father greeted them enthusiastically. "Muggles! You are real Muggles! Our acquaintance should be celebrated! You came to change the money, right? Look, Molly, real pounds." He pointed to the ten-pound note in Mr. Granger's hand.

It's a shame. They might be Muggles, but my father was completely taken aback by the sight of them. He's probably already figuring out how much information he can get from them about their technology. Harry is a kid and he just doesn't know a lot.

"I'll meet you here, Hermione," I said, and our whole family, along with Harry, went to the vaults of the bank, where our safes were located.

There were rails leading to the safes, along which wagons ran. The wagons were operated by goblins and carried wizards back and forth. The road connected all the underground banking facilities. The door of our safe opened. Inside the steel box was a pitiful handful of silver sickles and only one gold galleon. Mom took a good look around the corners, took out all the coins in one fell swoop and poured them into her purse. Then we went to Harry's safe. A friend, blushing, went into the safe and blocking the entrance with his back, began to blindly rake in the money. And why is he embarrassed. He must have a lot of money in his safe. His grandfather did a good job selling a hair potion called just shine. After that, we all got into the trailer together and went upstairs. What a mug he's got. Red as a tomato.

Our group split up on the marble staircase. Percy mumbled something about a new pen, and Fred and George met Lee Jordan, a school friend. The father invited the Grangers to the Leaky Cauldron to celebrate their acquaintance. Well, right now he's going to ask around. And Mom and Ginny were rushing to the second-hand clothing store.

"We'll meet at the Flourish and Blotts bookstore in an hour and buy textbooks for everyone. And forget about Lyutny Lane!" She called after the twins and, holding Ginny tightly by the hand, trotted off towards the clothing store.

Harry, Hermione, and I were walking along a winding, cobblestone street.

Harry bought three large cones of strawberry ice cream with chocolate and peanut butter. And we ate it with pleasure. Hmm, well, he seems to have calmed down.

We walked for a long time, looking at the shop windows. My eyes lit up: there was a full set of equipment for my favorite team, the Cannons of Peddle, in the window of the Quidditch shop. Hermione pulled me away from the display case and led us to a nearby writing supplies store for ink and parchment. There we met the twins with Lee Jordan. They were stuck at the counter with Dr. Feuerwerkus's cold and wet miracle firecrackers. And in a tiny shop selling broken magic wands, ruined copper scales, old stained robes and other junk, they stumbled upon Percy. He was standing at the counter, immersed in the most boring little book "Elders who achieved power."

"The prefects of Hogwarts and their further life path", I read the text from the back cover out loud.

"Don't bother me!" Percy blurted out without looking up from his reading.

"He is very ambitious and purposeful. Wants to be Minister of Magic," Moving away from my brother, I explained to my friends in a low voice.

"Harry, let's go to Madame Malkin's."

"What for? My old robes still fit."

"Buddy, I'm sorry, but at least you could change your clothes. Okay, we don't have money for new things, but you are. She's hanging on you like a sack."

"Harry really is. By the way, I've heard that you can buy an enchanted costume."

"Yeah. Only they cost more."

"Okay, we're convinced."

And we dragged each other to a clothing store. And then to the pharmacy. Hermione had seen eye drops to improve her eyesight. At the same time, they asked the healer on duty at the pharmacy to cast a special spell on Harry's glasses. So that they adjust to his vision.

An hour later, we hurried to the Flourish and Blotts store. And, I must say, we weren't the only ones in a hurry. As we approached the store, to our amazement, we saw a huge crowd at the entrance, rushing inside. The reason for this was obviously the huge sign on the upper window:

Gilderoy Lockhart signs autobiography

"I AM A WIZARD" today from 12.30 to 16.30.

Damn. Here we are. Or did Mom drag us to the presentation on purpose?

"We're about to see Lockhart himself," Hermione stammered in delight. "He wrote almost all the textbooks on our list!"

The crowd consisted mainly of women in their fifties. At the entrance, the stuffy wizard kept repeating:

"Take it easy, lady, take it easy! Don't push! Please be careful with the books!"

Harry, Hermione, and I squeezed in. Well, well! The queue stretched across the store to the very end, where Lockhart signed his books. Picking up a book called "Holidays with a hag", we all rushed along the queue to where our parents were standing.

"Here you are! Perfectly!" Mom exclaimed, breathing excitedly and smoothing her hair. "One more minute and we'll see him!"

And now — oh, happiness! — We saw it. He was sitting at a table surrounded by his own portraits. They all winked and flashed dazzling smiles at their female fans. Lockhart was alive, wearing a robe the color of forget-me-nots to match his blue eyes. The magic hat is perched famously on golden curls.

A short, nervous-looking man danced around the table, constantly snapping a large camera, from which thick purple smoke poured out with each flash.

"Don't get in the way!" He barked at me, backing away and stepping on my foot. Don't you see, I'm shooting for the Daily Prophet."

"Too bad for me!" I rubbed my bruised leg with the other.

Lockhart heard an exclamation. He looked in my direction. And suddenly he jumped up, looking as if he had seen Merlin in person.

"It can't be! Could it really be Harry Potter himself!" He rejoiced.

The crowd parted, whispering excitedly. Lockhart rushed to his friend, grabbed his arm, and dragged him to the table. And the crowd burst into thunderous applause. Posing for a photographer, Lockhart forcefully shook Harry's hand, which had flushed to the roots of his hair. The camera was clicking like crazy, blowing thick clouds of smoke in the direction of our family.

"Harry! Smile wider!" Lockhart smiled brilliantly himself. "You and I will decorate the front page!"

The little man finished filming, and Lockhart released the boy's hand. Harry didn't know where to turn from embarrassment. Lockhart grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him from taking a step. Pulling Harry towards him and demanding silence with a wave of his hand, he solemnly announced: