Chapter 9: Wand weighing ceremony
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. IT BELONGS TO JK ROWLING.
A/N: Read, enjoy, and remember not to take either life or my writing too seriously.
The following week seemed to pass surprisingly quickly.
Hermione repeatedly invited Ron to join her and Harry while they worked on their homework. Each time, Ron dismissed the idea with the same argument.
"As a champion," he said grandly, "I won't have to take the end-of-year exams anyway."
Hermione tried to reason with him.
"But Ron, you still need to learn the material. You'll have your O.W.L.s next year, and your professors will deduct points if you stop turning in assignments."
Ron waved his hand dismissively and returned to whatever he had been doing—usually reading Quidditch books or playing chess against himself.
Occasionally Harry asked Ron how he was preparing for the tournament.
Ron's typical answer was to gesture toward the chessboard.
"Strategizing."
Despite everything, Ron seemed to be gradually getting over his jealousy.
Or perhaps he was simply avoiding Harry and Hermione so he didn't have to think about it.
Harry and Hermione even stopped kissing in front of him to help things along.
Unfortunately, that fragile peace lasted only until the following Thursday morning.
The morning owl post began arriving during breakfast in the Great Hall.
Letters and newspapers dropped across the tables.
Hermione unfolded her copy of the Daily Prophet.
The moment she saw the front page, she choked.
The headline covered nearly the entire page.
"Boy-Who-Lived… Boy-Who-Loves!"
And directly beneath it was a photograph of Harry and Hermione kissing in the Great Hall.
The pumpkin juice Hermione had been lifting toward her mouth splashed across the table.
Harry looked over at her.
The moment he saw the photograph he grabbed Hermione's hand and quickly led her out of the hall while dozens of students turned to stare.
Meanwhile Ron had just finished piling food onto his plate.
He happened to glance over Neville's shoulder at the newspaper.
A second later—
PPPWWWWTTTTPPPPPPPWWWTTTTPPWW!
The explosive sound echoed through the Great Hall again.
Every head turned toward Ron Weasley, Triwizard Champion.
When Minerva McGonagall arrived at the Gryffindor table moments later, she noticed Neville, Dean, and Seamus working diligently to clear the smell with the charms Hermione had taught them.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Practice," they explained quickly.
McGonagall turned toward Ron.
"Mister Weasley," she said calmly, "perhaps you should visit Madam Pomfrey."
"Yes, Professor," Ron replied.
He continued eating his breakfast.
Unfortunately the situation repeated itself several times.
Each time Neville turned the page of his newspaper—revealing the photograph of Harry and Hermione again—another explosion echoed across the hall.
After finishing breakfast Ron finally headed toward the hospital wing.
Madam Pomfrey examined him thoroughly.
She could not find anything wrong.
Still, she gave him several potions and assured him they would help.
Later that afternoon the Gryffindor and Slytherin fourth years gathered in the dungeon for double Potions.
A familiar sneering voice spoke from behind Harry.
"So Potter… is the buck-toothed mudblood really the best you could manage?"
Harry turned immediately.
Draco Malfoy stood there with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.
Harry's hand moved to his wand.
"Shut up, Malfoy," he snapped. "Just because you're stuck with Pansy doesn't mean you get to insult Hermione."
Hermione tugged at his sleeve.
"Harry, ignore him."
Malfoy smirked.
"Listen to your mudblood pet, Potter."
Harry drew his wand.
"I said shut up, Ferret Face."
Malfoy's own wand appeared instantly.
"Go on then, Potter. Let's see if you've got the nerve."
"Funnunculus!"
"Densaugeo!"
Both spells shot forward at once.
They collided midair and ricocheted.
Harry's spell struck Goyle, instantly covering his nose with huge boils.
Malfoy's spell struck Hermione.
Hermione gasped in panic, clutching her mouth.
"Hermione!" Harry cried.
Her teeth were rapidly growing longer beneath her hands.
"What is happening here?" a cold voice interrupted.
Severus Snape had arrived.
The Slytherins immediately began shouting accusations.
Snape pointed at Malfoy.
"Explain."
"Potter attacked me!"
"We attacked each other!" Harry shouted.
Snape inspected Goyle.
"Hospital wing," he said calmly.
"Malfoy hit Hermione!" Harry said angrily.
Hermione tried desperately to hide her teeth as they grew past her collar.
Pansy Parkinson and several Slytherin girls giggled behind Snape's back.
Snape looked at Hermione briefly.
"I see no difference."
Hermione fled the classroom in tears.
Harry glared at Snape before running after her.
"Potter!" Snape shouted.
Harry ignored him.
Meanwhile Ron sat near Neville in the classroom.
Malfoy leaned forward.
"So Weasley," he sneered, "what do you think about Potter getting the girl?"
Pbrrrrrp.
Ron's ears turned red.
Malfoy pulled out the newspaper.
"Doesn't it make you jealous—"
PPPWWWWTTTTPPPPPPPWWWTTTT!
An explosive noise shattered the moment—followed by immediate regret.
The resulting blast ignited the flame beneath Malfoy's cauldron.
An explosion followed.
Malfoy's eyebrows vanished instantly and his hair caught fire.
He looked like a flaming matchstick.
In his panic he knocked over his cauldron.
The potion spilled onto Pansy Parkinson's lap.
She leapt up and accidentally kneed Malfoy in the groin.
As Snape attempted to extinguish Malfoy's burning hair, Colin Creevey appeared in the doorway.
"Mr. Bagman needs the champions for photographs!"
Snape's glare was enough to make Ron sprint out immediately.
Meanwhile Harry and Hermione sat in the hospital wing while Madam Pomfrey shrank Hermione's teeth back to normal.
Snape soon arrived levitating Malfoy and Parkinson.
Malfoy looked like a burnt matchstick, while Pansy shouted insults loud enough to embarrass sailors.
Harry and Hermione left the hospital wing in a much better mood—especially after hearing the story of the Potions disaster.
Even better, Snape had been too busy dealing with Malfoy to give Harry detention.
Colin led Ron to a classroom where the other champions were waiting.
"Who wants photographs?" Ron asked eagerly.
"The Daily Prophet, I think," Colin replied.
Ron burst into the room.
Ludo Bagman looked up.
"Who are you?"
"Ron Weasley. The fourth champion."
Bagman nodded distractedly.
"Right… right."
Then Ron noticed a woman wearing bright magenta robes.
"Rita Skeeter!" he exclaimed.
"My mum loves your articles."
He leaned closer.
"I can give you an interview if you want."
Skeeter's eyes lit up.
"You replaced Harry Potter, correct?"
Ron puffed out his chest.
"I practically taught Harry everything he knows."
Skeeter grabbed his arm and dragged him into a nearby broom closet.
"Start from the beginning," she said eagerly.
Twenty minutes later Albus Dumbledore opened the closet door.
"Oh… there you are."
Rita rushed out looking exhausted.
Ron called after her.
"But I've only reached my eighth birthday!"
Back in the classroom, the champions gathered for the wand weighing ceremony with Garrick Ollivander.
After examining the wands of Fleur Delacour, Cedric Diggory, and Viktor Krum, Ollivander finally turned to Ron.
"This is one of mine," he said.
"Willow, fourteen inches, unicorn hair. Is this blood on it?"
He sniffed.
"Ah… strawberry jam."
A quick flick of the wand produced a fountain of water.
"Perfect condition."
After the photographs Ron felt unstoppable.
Fleur had giggled at him.
Cedric might help him polish his wand.
And his picture would appear in the newspaper.
What could be better?
He quickly wrote his mother telling her to watch for tomorrow's Prophet.
The next morning Ron waited eagerly for the newspaper.
When it arrived he unfolded it quickly.
The front page showed the four champions.
Fleur.
Cedric.
Krum.
And…
Harry Potter.
Ron read the article.
At the bottom it stated:
"Due to injury, Harry Potter will not compete. According to tournament rules he has nominated Tom Weasley, son of Arthur and Molly Weasley, as his replacement."
Ron blinked.
"Tom Weasley?"
He looked up.
Across the hall Harry sat gazing into Hermione's eyes, completely lost in the moment.
And then—
PPPWWWWTTTTPPPPPPPWWWTTTTPPWW!
An explosive noise shattered the moment—followed by immediate regret.
The Great Hall echoed once again.
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Thank you for reading!
See you in the next chapter ✨
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