Ron-Weasly book 1. V2

Petunia interrupts, grimacing at the mention of the giant. Vernon had already arranged with a private clinic in London to have Dudley's piggy tail removed before school started. They'll laugh.

"Magic, schmagia..." aunt grumbles. "And if your magic breaks? Or will they turn off the heating? Or will you forget how to make it? What then? Are you going to freeze like your mother?"

She sighs, goes to the closet in the corner of the room, takes out an old children's wool sweater — dark blue, slightly stretched at the elbows. Petunia hands Harry a sweater.

"Here, take it. Wear it under your robe. And don't argue! It's not up for discussion. This is Vernon's sweater, a memory of his school days, he was slimmer when we met. Of course, he'll grumble that I gave it to you, but what can I do?

The Dursleys will have a hard time with money after paying for Dudley's hospital. There is no insurance for such a case, and you also have to pay for silence. There is no insurance for such a case, and you also have to pay for silence. But don't tell the kids about it?

Next summer, when you go shopping, you must buy warm clothes for yourself, I know that they are sold on your diagon alley.

"As an orphan, the principal of your school specifically allocates money to you. Spend wisely, not on sweets."

Harry takes the sweater, looking at his aunt in surprise. Apparently, he asked her to continue teaching him how to cook.

"Thank you, Aunt, for the sweater.... I really didn't think that warm clothes would be needed. There was such an unpleasant boy in the studio from a family of magicians that I just ran away from there as soon as they gave me robes and a cloak."

Petunia turns away, as if ashamed of her concern:

"As soon as the frosts start, I want you to wear it until you buy a new sweater. Every day. And put on a scarf. I have one in my closet, a gray one with stripes. At school, you will ask a senior student to repaint him in the colors of the faculty. It's certainly not new, but it's very warm. I wore it in the winter in college. And ignore the words of people like that boy. Lily constantly complained that she was being called by these "pure-blooded" magicians. That was when their civil war was starting, which is why Vernon and I were against your studying at Hogwarts."

Harry nods, hiding a smile. It was the first time he'd been given good things, not Uncle Vernon's old stuff like socks or hangers, like for his last birthday. However, the hanger was given to him by his swearing aunt Marge, who was staying at the house. Like, `what's the point of Vernon's old socks, just throw them away. And anyway, did you check this ill-mannered boor for worms, that he's skinny, as if he doesn't eat at all? I always kill the dogs in such cases.'

"All right, Aunt Petunia. I'm going to wear this sweater." Harry promised, remembering the screams of Aunt Marge, who nevertheless brought him pills and forced him and Dudley to drink them. `Vernon, in that case, you need to get rid of all the worms, drink it too, and make your skinny wife go on a diet or something?'

Petunia nods glumly, then suddenly adds a little more softly:

"And if it starts to freeze again at your school— write at once. I'll knit you some more socks. Tolstoy. To make sure your feet don't freeze."

Harry nods, feeling a warmth in his chest — not from the sweater, but from something else he hadn't noticed about Aunt Petunia before.

"Good. Thank you, Aunt Petunia."

The aunt just waves it off, but a faint smile flickers at the corners of her lips. She turns to the table and begins to carefully fold the robes, as if they are the most valuable things in the world.

* * *

The next day, Uncle Vernon took the two of them to a second-hand store in London. In the morning, he grumbled that his nephew was pulling money again, saying that since he had the magic currency, he could buy things for himself, but Aunt Petunia persuaded him to allocate thirty pounds for purchases. There was a sale in the store and my aunt started picking up a pair of black trousers and three white shirts, and after thinking about it, she added a blue flannel shirt with a green check. She noticed a long time ago that her nephew was not indifferent to the cage, and his things with it lasted much longer than pure white ones. And it will be warmer in winter.

"This is in case it gets cold. You can put it under your sweater."

"Thank you, Aunt, I'll do everything honestly. Do you want me to take care of your garden?"

"Yes, it would be nice. Your flowers are growing well, which you weed and water.

A salesman approached them.

"How much do we charge for everything?"

"Twenty pounds, ma'am." I've given you and your son a five-pound discount.

"My nephew," my aunt grimaced, taking the money out of her purse. "And please give us those autumn boots with fluted soles. Harry, try it on, if you're a little free, it's not scary."

* * *

Petunia, who was arranging tea cups on the coffee table, looked up at Vernon, who was sitting in his favorite armchair with a newspaper.

Petunia is strict, but without irritation:

"Vernon, could you show Harry how to tie a tie? Just before school, he'll practice on Dudley's old tie."

Vernon sighed heavily, put down the newspaper and cast a disapproving glance towards Harry, who was standing by the door with his uniform tie in his hands. Vernon grumbles:

"The kid doesn't know how to do something again... All right, come here, man. Let's see what to do with you."

Harry timidly came closer, holding in his hands the black uniform tie that aunt Petunia had given him for his birthday.

Vernon sighs, leading his unloved nephew to a full-length mirror on the wall:

"Give it here. And watch carefully — I won't repeat it."

He took the tie, threw it around Harry's neck, and began to show it right on top of him:

"The right end is longer. You throw it over the left one... like this... You wrap it around... you tighten it... See? Everything is simple."

Harry carefully followed his uncle's movements, trying to memorize every step. Vernon finished, adjusted the knot, and took a step back, critically examining the result.

Uncle untied the knot and handed the tie to Harry.

"Try it yourself. And to make no mistakes!"

Harry took the ends of his tie, took a deep breath, and began to repeat the steps. Her hands were shaking slightly, and her fingers were tangled in the fabric. He loosened the knot several times, started over, and frowned with tension. Vernon stood nearby, tapping his foot and sighing from time to time. After about fifteen minutes, Vernon muttered,

"What's taking so long?... Are you sure your hands aren't growing out of there? Come on, hurry up!"

Harry didn't answer, concentrating on trying. Finally, after several unsuccessful attempts, he got a neat knot — not perfect, but quite decent. He gently pulled on the ends, checking if it was holding.

Harry hesitantly:

— Did it work?

Vernon leaned closer, examined the tie from all sides, and pulled at the ends. Something remotely like approval flashed across his face. The man chuckled approvingly

, "Well... it'll do." It's not a masterpiece, of course, but at least it wasn't like your junior high graduation. Practice some more in the next few days. And don't tighten the knot too much.

Harry carefully adjusted the knot, trying not to show how happy he was. He looked at his uncle and said softly,

"Thank you, Uncle Vernon."

Vernon froze slightly, as if he hadn't expected any thanks. He waved his hand as if to ward off something, and went to his chair. Vernon is softer now, but still grumpy:

"Okay, okay. Just don't forget to put it on properly when you arrive at school. And without your tricks at school, don't embarrass us. I still remember explaining to the headmaster of your and Dudley's school why you climbed onto the roof of the cafeteria."

Petunia, who was watching what was happening, smiled slightly and poured fragrant tea with bergamot into the cup in front of Vernon. Petunia, sipping from her fragrant cup with a couple of cherries:

"See, Vernon? It wasn't difficult at all to help the boy. We agreed that he would continue to help me cook and take care of the garden. Leave the bill for culinary college for now, it might still come in handy. Lily said in the sixth year that they didn't want to hire her anywhere for a prestigious job, even though she had nine owls passed perfectly."

Vernon just snorted in response, but took the cup and opened the newspaper again.

"Well, the interest is running out anyway. If anything, we'll use it for Dudley."

"Although I do remember that Potter was a well-off bum. They say his ancestral abilities are not suitable for a family business. Ugh. When I was his age, I had already founded Grannings, and he was still studying."

Harry, trying not to smile too broadly, stepped aside and took another look at the tie in the mirror. He did it himself. And he'll practice, because even Dudley can tie ties, but he can't. It was such a disgrace at the graduation ceremony.

Dudley, by the way, was thinking intently about something, then he went to his room and brought an old tape player and headphones.

"Harry, take it anyway, you've been licking your lips at it for a long time and the tape is your favorite. Just take my ponytail off."

"Did he stay like that?!"

"Yes. My dad wants to take me to the surgeon. But I'm afraid."

"Okay, I'll write to Professor McGonagall. That I bewitched you by accident when I got angry that you ate half of my cake.

Harry went to his room and tied a message to the deputy headmaster of Hogwarts School to Hedwig's paw.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall.

I accidentally bewitched my cousin. He ate half of the cake that Hagrid gave me, and I got mad. My cousin has grown a piggy tail. Please, can one of the teachers at your school remove my cousin's tail, because Uncle Vernon already wants to remove it in a private clinic.

Sincerely, Harry Potter."

An hour later, an angry letter arrived from McGonagall that she would come tomorrow at two o'clock in the afternoon to figure out what Harry had conjured for his cousin. And for him to warn his uncle and aunt about her arrival.

Harry went down to the living room.

Uncle Vernon hadn't gone to bed yet, sitting in front of the TV and sipping fragrant tea from a thick-walled mug.

"Uh, Uncle Vernon. I wrote to my school about Dudley's ponytail, and tomorrow at two in the afternoon, the deputy principal of my school will come to us to deal with his ponytail. She wrote that she was teaching a class that was doing this."

"Two o'clock, then? Well good."

* * *

McGonagall, pursing her lips in displeasure, examined Dudley's bare ass and cursed at the crooked-armed idiot with broken sticks, grumbling that only a stupid ranger could arrange such a thing. The indignant aunt complained about Hagrid to the professor. Then McGonagall waved her wand in a complicated pattern and muttered something to herself. Finally, the ponytail disappeared.

"Mr. Potter, are you going to take this player?" She stumbled over the unfamiliar name of a Muggle item. "to school?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Keep in mind that Muggle things work intermittently there. When you arrive at school, contact Professor Babbling, she will put runes that stabilize eclecticism on your toy. And it would be even better if you write to Arthur Weasley. He likes to do things like that. Do you still have any money left after shopping?"

"Yes, Professor, thirty galleons."

"Here, write to Mr. Arthur Weasley that you want him to enchant your record player, he will professionally enchant it for you so that it works at school. But pay him at least five galleons, his family is very poor, and he won't bring up the subject of money."

"Yes, Professor, I'll write to him today."

Professor McGonagall left, and Harry went to write a letter to Arthur Weasley. Harry sat down at his desk and began to compose a letter, finally he settled on the following option:

"Dear Mr. Weasley,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. I know you're passionate about Muggle things, and I'd really like to ask for your advice and help.

I have a small Muggle cassette player. It means a lot to me, but unfortunately, at Hogwarts, such devices usually don't work because of magic.

Could you, if possible and not too troublesome, enchant it so that it doesn't break down and keeps playing music? I would be very grateful and willing to pay you five galleons for the job.

If it's convenient for you, I can mail the player at any time or do whatever you say.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this letter.

With best wishes,

Harry Potter"

A day later, I received an agreement and a request to send a player with a cassette and headphones in a pouch tied to the owl's paw. Harry put five galleons and a walkman with headphones in the bag. With the cassette inserted. Harry also marveled at the capacity of the small bag.

A week later, he got the enchanted record player back. And a wish to contact more. They say his parents were acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and if anything else he would help him.

* * *

Harry continued to help his aunt cook and take care of the garden. On the evening of August 31, he made a request to Uncle Vernon.

"Uncle Vernon, could you take me to King's Cross Station by 11 a.m. tomorrow? I have to catch a train to school."

"Yeah. By the way, are all the carpets moth-eaten?"

"I don't know. Hagrid said just take the train."

"And where is your school?"

"Aunt Petunia says she's in Scotland. I just need to get on the train at platform nine and three quarters."

"Which platform?" Uncle Vernon stared at Harry, stunned.

"That's what it says on the ticket."

"You're all crazy. Okay, I'll take you, but only because Dudley also has to catch the train at half past ten."

Chapter 4.1 The Magic Train Station.

August flew by unnoticed. I read textbooks, and in the afternoon I flew on an old broom with my brothers. Bill also advised me to do physical exercises, saying that I walk and run a lot if I want to fulfill my dream of exploring the magical world. And it's worth getting a weapon besides a magic wand. He goes to work himself with a long silver-plated knife, almost a sword. Can I buy one too? If they accept me anyway... And his clothes are made of dragon skin.

In the meantime, it's worth going to the hills and foothills to walk with Hanna.

* * *

"Dad, what have you been doing for a week?" My father has been coming home early for six days now and going to his garage, where he has a warehouse of Muggle things.