Arthur came back at six, through the fireplace. The moment the flames turned green and a human figure formed in the fire always amazed me. What kind of crazy magic makes something like that even possible? It’s one thing to step out of a cold fireplace, but appearing from roaring flames is a whole different story.

Maybe Santa Claus didn’t climb down chimneys after all, but used the Floo network and was a wizard? Looking at things from that angle really changes your perspective.

At seven, we sat down for dinner. The meal was unusually quiet — the twins, who were uncharacteristically glum after their day of chores, were too busy shoveling food into their mouths to bother anyone. After dinner, Molly sent them off to finish cleaning something they hadn’t gotten to during the day. Percy later told me in secret that mum had found their stash of fireworks while tidying up, and they exploded. Now the room was covered in soot and grime, and Molly refused to clean it up with magic, making them do it by hand. They were on their second round of cleaning. Turns out, there is some justice in the world.

We spent the evening both having fun and being productive — even Ginny got involved — by relocating the ghoul.

We decided to move the creature into the storage room between the parents’ bedroom and Bill’s. We shrunk all the junk, packed it into a box, and moved it to the attic, which Molly quickly tidied up. We immobilized the ghoul, lifted it with magic, and carefully levitated it into its new home. That’s when I saw it for the first time.

It was just under a meter tall, bald, with wet, slimy-looking skin, kind of like a person. And it had pretty decent teeth. Personally, I wouldn’t let something like that near me willingly, but apparently, it was considered a sort of household pet here.

Later, I read that ghouls aren’t dangerous to people or magic. They’re classified as magical parasites. They live in barns and feed on moths and spiders. But I saw Molly feeding it table scraps, and it seemed just fine. In fact, it looked even plumper than Percy.

Anyway, I’m glad it’s going to live farther away from me now, though I’ll still have to pass by it often.

The ghoul seemed to like its new home. The room was five meters long, windowless, but that’s probably for the best — ghouls don’t like light. Arthur enchanted the door to be see-through, so the ghoul won’t get bored. Maybe it’ll stop howling now? And it can’t bang on any pipes — there aren’t any. Plus, the twins won’t be able to get to it anymore. The downside is that I can’t get to the magazines either — Arthur locked the attic with magic. Oh well, Percy’s shelves are still full of books.

When I hugged my parents and got their affectionate kisses in return, I felt the awkwardness of a grown man in the warm embrace of strangers, which, thankfully, they took as simple shyness. The adults were happy — their son had come home, and I felt a little more at ease myself. I slept like a baby that night.

The next morning was sunny and brought a surprise — Arthur had the day off, and after breakfast, we were off to the stadium, twins included. Molly stayed home with a very annoyed Ginny.

"Chudley Canons" were playing against "Caerphilly Catapults" — a Welsh team from Caerphilly. Apparently, Ron supported them just because they represented their county in the tournaments.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about Quidditch yet — I’d never seen a live game before, and Ron, it seemed, had only been to a match once, before the tragedy. Kids weren’t allowed into the stadium until they turned seven, after all. But I had a poster in my room — maybe someone brought it from a game and gave it to the kid?

To be honest, I really wanted to tear it down — the moving images, in that unbearable orange, made my eyes water with how much they flickered.

But I decided to leave it alone for now — old Ron was a huge fan. Most of the books and magazines I found in the room were about Quidditch. So, for now, I focused on memorizing the names of the players, learning the rules of the game, and getting familiar with all the different throws, tricks, and fouls.

At one o’clock, Arthur threw a handful of powder from a jar on the mantel, said some kind of incantation, and the fireplace expanded until it could fit all of us inside. I later found out that this is how they transported kids under eleven. It minimizes the risk of getting lost in the Floo Network and saves money — you only have to pay for the adult.

At that moment, though, I had no idea and was trying to figure out how to step into the green flames. But one of the twins "helpfully" shoved me — a jab to the ribs that sent me flying into the fireplace, where I crashed into Arthur.

I don’t remember much about the trip — it all happened so fast. Just a quick jolt at the start, then it felt like zooming down a highway with sharp turns and loops. But the brothers were pressed against me on all sides, so I didn’t feel much, and I clung to Arthur so hard I could barely let go, even after we landed.

I don’t remember what the stadium at Hogwarts looked like, but this one seemed pretty standard for the modern world, except for the seating. The first row was as high as a third-story building. The lower levels housed the administration, guest quarters for visiting teams, locker rooms, and the Floo hall, where we arrived. We even visited the team’s museum, which showcased their accomplishments. That’s where I saw a racing broom for the first time — beautiful, nothing like the one back at The Burrow.

During the matches, the main hall was full of souvenir stands and fan gear — from team hats and jerseys to posters with autographs. Arthur even offered to buy me a poster, but I politely declined, and he didn’t push it. Instead, we got boxes of jumping chocolate frogs — I gave mine to Percy later. I never quite gotten used to the idea of biting into candy that wriggled around like that.

Overall, the day was a success. The stadium was only a third full—just hardcore fans and locals attended the preliminary games, so tickets were much cheaper than for the final qualifiers.

To my surprise, I enjoyed the game, though I wouldn’t say I became a fanatic. The players were intense and passionate. There were three player substitutions due to injuries. One player got knocked back by another, slammed into the ring support at full speed, fell from a height, and hit the ground hard, leaving a two-meter crater. Honestly, I thought he was done for, but no one seemed particularly concerned. They paused the game, substituted the player, and carried the guy off the field after waving a wand over him.

Another player got hit hard by a Bludger and lost his sense of direction, spinning in place until they took him off the field. Then, two others crashed into each other so badly it looked like they broke their ribs. And the 'Cannons' keeper took a shot to the face at the start of the game, breaking his nose, but he kept playing like nothing happened. Not that it mattered much—he didn’t catch a single ball.

In the end, the guest team’s Seeker caught the Snitch, but our team won on points, so the match was declared a draw. I read somewhere that this was actually a pretty good result. The 'Chudley Cannons' hadn’t won since 1892, yet somehow, they’d never been knocked out of the tournament, even though they’ve been stuck at the bottom. Now, they’ve climbed up from 29th to 9th place. Still, even the fans didn’t believe the team would ever regain their former glory, and their 21 championship cups were just gathering dust in the museum as a reminder of better days.

After the match, Arthur gave each of us 12 Sickles for sweets, so we could choose our own treats. I’m not a fan of magical candy in general, but to avoid standing out, I bought three Drooble’s gum for four Sickles, a pretty racing broom-shaped brooch for six, and gave the remaining two Sickles to Percy, who was short for a pack of his favorite 'Milk Bees.'

The rest of the day was fun. The twins, while we eagerly devoured lunch, took turns interrupting each other to tell our mother and an obviously envious Ginny all the details of the match. Judging by Molly’s expression, she wasn’t particularly interested. Arthur handed Ginny a chocolate frog and a couple of small bags of sweets, but she still looked miserable. Later that night, before bed, I went to her room and gave her the brooch, which surprised her.

Ron envied Ginny’s place in the family, and their relationship mostly consisted of mutual pranks and tattling. But as an adult, I didn’t get involved in that. The feeling of being an older brother was familiar to me—I had a sister once, though I didn’t know her for long. In short, I wanted to befriend Ginny and become her real older brother—dealing with the twins as enemies was enough for me.

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The following week, after dinner, Arthur approached me and asked what I wanted for my birthday. Honestly, I had completely forgotten that Ron’s birthday was on March 1st, so I was caught off guard. I promised to think about it, but, spoiler alert, I never came up with anything.

In the end, I got a Galleon and a box of six chocolate frogs, which I secretly shared with Ginny and Percy.

My first birthday in this new body was unforgettable.

At three in the afternoon, Molly set the table in the living room for a party, and from the fireplace stepped an eccentric lady wearing an elaborate hat. She was short, dry-looking, but carried herself with great pride. It was Aunt Muriel. She acted like royalty, and her sharp remarks made Molly blush more than once. Apparently, she attended every Weasley family event.

We hadn’t been seated for more than half an hour when an explosion sounded from beneath Muriel’s chair, and the room filled with such a stench that everyone’s eyes watered. Our prankster twins had set off a dung bomb.

We bolted out of the room like corks from champagne while the coughing parents cast spells to keep the smell from spreading to the hallway. Still, the stench clung to us.

After Muriel finished coughing, she launched into a tirade, declaring that she would never set foot in the Weasley house again and that Fred and George would be written out of her will. With that, she stormed out, where a strange little creature in a pillowcase appeared out of nowhere to whisk her away.

It was a full-blown scandal. The twins were spanked and made to clean the living room by hand, and they were sentenced to a month of house arrest—but not without punishment. They were given old copies of 'A History of Magic' and had to memorize a chapter a day, with Arthur personally quizzing them each evening. I bet they’ll be the only ones to know all those impossible goblin names and dates by heart.

I consoled myself with five Galleons from Aunt Muriel, though I only got to keep one. The rest was used to buy new clothes to replace the ones that were worn out—not for me, but for the older brothers. For example, I was wearing hand-me-downs from Percy, who had gotten them from Bill, while the twins wore Charlie’s, as they had similar builds. Fortunately, Charlie’s clothes fit me and Percy better than the twins', which were basically rags by the time they reached us.

But I added my one Galleon to the stash my parents had given me. Maybe after a few years, I’ll have enough to buy my own wand.

The dragon dung bomb was a real piece of work—the smell lingered for ages. Worst of all, all the food on the table was ruined, including the broomstick-shaped birthday cake, which I never got to try. And everyone had to rush to wash up while the parents and the culprits cleaned up the living room.

After a bath, we had a little gathering in Percy’s room, where he and Ginny polished off the chocolate frogs in my honor. Then we wandered around until dusk, when a calmed-down Molly called us inside.

Later, I overheard my parents talking. Apparently, Muriel was quite wealthy. She gave five to ten Galleons for every birthday and had generously paid for both Bill’s and Charlie’s school supplies when they entered their first year at Hogwarts. She’d even bought Charlie a broom when he made the team last year—not a Nimbus, of course, but a decent Cleansweep. My parents had been counting on her help again this year, but thanks to the twins, it seemed Percy wouldn’t be so lucky.

Life went on as usual after that, except Ginny started joining Percy and me on our walks. After my gift, she became softer and stopped treating Ron like a rival for their mother’s attention. I didn’t pull any pranks on her, and, to be honest, I was fine with Molly shifting her doting back to Ginny once I’d recovered. So, Ginny and I became friends, though I didn’t let her take the upper hand. For some reason, some girls tend to mistake kindness and friendliness for weakness and start walking all over you. I learned that from my wife. So, I acted like the older brother, and Ginny had to accept that, even though she had quite a temper.

Percy didn’t mind Ginny, although he didn’t form the same kind of friendship with her that I did.

In April, the warmth arrived abruptly. The grass turned green, the rains stopped, and the puddles dried up. We spent all our free time outdoors, exploring the area and even getting into a fight with the local kids. They blocked our path and asked who we were. Percy surprised us all by being the first to throw a punch when one of the kids, after a bit of posturing, yanked on Ginny’s hair ribbon.

He fought like a lion, even if a bit clumsily—definitely Gryffindor material. I jumped into the fight too and held my own. Fighting was my element, though my body didn’t always keep up with my instincts. Still, I managed to knock a couple of them down, though I took a hook to the jaw after leaving myself open a few times. Luckily, the kids weren’t any older than us.

Afterward, we made peace, and the local boys treated us to candy. I even showed John a couple of moves I’d used to floor him. It felt great to feel normal again, living a simple, carefree life like any other boy. We didn’t become friends, but we exchanged nods whenever we passed by, and no one bothered us again—John’s gang was ‘in charge’ around here.

Of course, our parents scolded us when we got back, but they patched up our scrapes and let it go. From that day on, Ginny looked at Percy and me with wide-eyed admiration.

On the first of April, we celebrated the twins' birthday. As usual, the party was festive and delicious, though there was an undercurrent of sadness. Aunt Muriel didn’t show up, and the birthday boys came up short—ten Galleons short, to be exact. Sure, our parents gave them a gold coin each, but that was all.

It was a bad sign. Percy was going to Hogwarts this year, and it looked like our parents would have to prepare him for school on their own. I hoped Muriel would change her mind because otherwise, we’d be living on bread and water, or Percy would have to go to Hogwarts in worn-out clothes. He didn’t deserve that.

In May, as Percy had promised, we went out gathering, and of course, Ginny tagged along. We assigned her to pick flowers—something like our snowdrops, except these glowed with a silvery light and had a blue center. She fearlessly collected three baskets full, pushing through the small forest. Meanwhile, Percy and I climbed trees and carefully picked buds, though it was slow going—it was harder than it looked.

The funny thing was, for the three baskets of flowers Ginny collected in one day, we were paid five Galleons. But for the four baskets of buds we gathered over three days, we only got four. Naturally, we each got to keep just one gold coin and a box of Chocolate Frogs, which we both gave to Ginny without saying a word.

It was lucky that the twins were grounded again for some prank; otherwise, they’d have ransacked the forest for themselves—those flowers only bloom for one day.

In June, just before the brothers came home for the holidays, something unexpected happened.

To be honest, in all the months I’d been here, I hadn’t felt any magic in me. Even Ginny, in a fit of frustration, managed to blow up a bowl of porridge, much to the delight of our parents. Percy, with his self-discipline, could summon a small flame in the palm of his hand, though it only lasted a moment. The twins were constantly blowing things up. But me? Nothing.

I’d started thinking that after inhabiting this body, I was no longer a wizard. I wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. If I was just a normal kid, I could head off to the Muggle world where I’d be more comfortable. But now that I’d gotten used to seeing magic everywhere, the idea of becoming a wizard myself seemed pretty appealing. In the end, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. But fate decided for me.

One day, I woke up in a bad mood. That happened sometimes—an internal tension I could usually will away after a few hours. But this time, it didn’t go away—thanks to those two idiots.

After our afternoon walk, I decided to take a shower before heading to Percy’s for lessons—at night, the twins would hog the bathroom, and I hadn’t had time to wash up. As I lathered my hair, my scalp began to sting, and the foam turned red and sizzled.

It didn’t actually hurt, but it was terrifying. My mind flashed back to weeks of paralysis and the feeding tube. Now I imagined myself back in that state, only bald and with a burn across my head.

I frantically rinsed off the foam, praying to every god I could think of to let me get away with this one. When I finally approached the mirror with shaking hands, I nearly cried with relief.

My hair was a swampy green, standing on end, but it was still there. I looked utterly ridiculous.

Once I realized I wasn’t going bald or slipping into a coma, rage boiled up inside me—not anger, but pure, unbridled fury. It consumed me like a wave. I barely had time to throw on some clothes before I charged off to find the twins. Every part of me was screaming for revenge.

I found the idiots in the living room. As soon as they saw me, their heads snapped up, and for a moment, they froze in shock before bursting into laughter and taunts.

I charged at the one who’d stood up first, still laughing and pointing at me. He had no idea how he ended up flying into the wall as I rained punches on him. I remembered all my past fights and favorite moves.

The second one attacked me from behind, but after two punches, he was down next to his brother, while I, with no sense of sportsmanship, kicked him for good measure. Yeah, my first youth had been wild and a little criminal.

It was Ginny’s scream that snapped me out of it. I caught a glimpse of Molly whisking her out of the room without her usual fuss, and Arthur conjuring a transparent shield between me and the twins.

I turned and took a good look at the scene—the groaning boys, holding onto each other as they tried to stand, staring at me with equal parts shock and fear. Honestly, I was surprised too. How had I managed to take down two boys stronger than me? It seemed my magic had finally awakened and helped me.

Then I locked eyes with Arthur. His expression didn’t promise anything good. “I’m in for it now,” I thought, just before collapsing, all my strength draining away at once.