Ron Weasley X Reader 1 | A Wild World, A Wad of Wizards, And A Wonderful Weasley

Chapter 2

The click of the mail slot sounded and I could hear letters flopping onto the doormat.

"Get the mail, Dudley," Uncle Vernon ordered from behind his paper, not even bothering to glance up.

Dudley frowned, "Make Harry get it."

Out came the next order, "Get the mail, Harry."

"Make Dudley get it," Harry tried, sounding almost sarcastic. We all knew there wasn't a chance that Dudley would be getting the mail.

Letting out a small snicker, I stood up, "I'll get it."

"Sit back down, (y/n)," Uncle Vernon snapped at me, glaring over his newspaper for the first time this entire ordeal, "Harry, get it."

I huffed, falling back into my seat. What was the point of making someone else get it when I'd already volunteered?

That's the first time our letters arrived and also the first time we'd been sleeping outside of that cupboard—they let us move into Dudley's second bedroom after that, but we still had to share the bed.

Our second letters came the next day, addressed to our new room. Our third, fourth, and fifth ones came the day after that. Our sixth, seventh, eight, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth, and eighteenth had to be shoved through the crack underneath the door and some were even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom. Our next twenty-four letters were hidden inside of each of the two dozen eggs that had been delivered through the living room window. Then came our next forty, all through the fireplace. The next hundred were delivered to Room 17 of Railview Hotel in Cokeworth.

After that, we were forced by Uncle Vernon to stay in a broken-down house in the middle of nowhere during a harsh storm.

Harry and I decided to stay up together, squeezing in tight in hopes of being the slightest bit warmer under our small and shared, very thin, ragged blanket. We were also huddling over Dudley's golden watch that, as I'd predicted, he hadn't noticed was missing.

It was only when the second hand ticked one final time to signify our birthday and I opened my mouth to wish Harry a happy one that there was a knock at the door, a very loud knock at the door.

In case we were mistaken, in case we thought it may just have been the wind, whoever was on the other side of the door knocked again, this time louder.

Dudley jumped up from where he was once asleep on the couch, looking around slightly and stupidly asking, "Where's the cannon?"

Uncle Vernon came running into the room with a sudden crash and a rifle in his hands. "Who's there!?" He sounded awfully paranoid, "I warn you—I'm armed!"

A small second was all we had to wait before the door was forced clean off its hinges with a deafening crash as it landed flat on the floor.

In the doorway stood a giant man who's face was almost completely hidden behind a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but his eyes were very clear even behind all that hair. They were dark and glinting like a pair of mischievous black beetles.

The massive man squeezed his way through the doorframe, stopping so that his head brushed the ceiling above us all. Then, unexpectedly enough, he reached down, picked up the door, and fitted it right back onto its frame.

He turned to look at us all, and it was then I figured that maybe, just maybe, his eyes weren't glinting mischievously. No, he had rather kind eyes, I think.

"Couldn't make us a cop o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey. . ." He strode over to the sofa, looking right at Dudley who was frozen quite tensely with fear, "Budge up, yeh great lump."