golden quartet | ron weasley

year 3 | chapter 1

"What are you two smirking at?" she sneered. Harry and I dropped our expressions and continued cleaning. She was lucky we needed Vernon's signature. "Where is it you send the twins again, Vernon?"

"Saint Brutus's," Vernon answered. "It's a fine institution for hopeless cases." He could've picked anywhere and that's the place he went with. Not surprising, really.

"Do they use a cane at Saint Brutus's?" Marge asked us. Harry and I exchanged a glance with our eyebrows raised. Vernon rose his eyebrows behind us, begging us to say yes for some reason.

"Oh, yeah," Harry replied. "We've been beaten loads of times."

"Excellent," she replied. Harry and I exchanged another glance. Is this woman okay?

"I won't have this namby-bamby wishy-washy nonsense about not beating people who deserve it," she continued. "But you mustn't blame yourself about how those two turned out, Vernon. It's all to do with blood. Bad blood will out." Harry and I stopped washing the dishes and gave each other a look.

"The signature," Harry reminded me, and I took a deep breath.

"What is it their father did, Petunia?" she asked.

"Nothing. H-he didn't—he didn't work. He was unemployed," Petunia answered. Could they at least come up with a believable lie?

"And a drunk, too, no doubt?" Marge scoffed.

"That's a lie! Our father wasn't a drunk!" Harry said, turning over to her aggressively. My anger shattered the glass in Marge's hand. And there goes our signature.

"Harry!" I scolded, whispering.

"Don't worry," Marge laughed, "Don't fuss, Petunia. I have a very firm grip."

"I think it's time you two went to bed," Vernon looked at us.

"Quiet, Vernon. You two, clean it up!" she said, snapping at us and pointing to the mess in front of her. Merlin, I hate it here. Harry grabbed two rags, handing me one. We went over and began picking up the shards with our bare hands because that's a safe activity for children to do.

"Actually, it's nothing to do with the father," Marge continued. "It's all to do with the mother. You see it all the time in dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, then there's something wrong with the pup!"

"Shut up!" Harry yelled at her. "Shut up!" He threw down the towel he was holding. At this point, there was no way we were getting that signature anyway.

"Don't you dare talk about our mother like that!" I yelled. Our accidental magic started going off as both of our rages grew. The lights in the rooms were flickering as Harry and I stared at the wretched woman.

"Right, let me tell you," Marge said, holding up a finger. It was then, that her finger started to bulge, followed by the rest of her body. She was blowing up like a balloon as the seat cracked beneath her and her buttons were shot off her clothes as the fabric ripped. The Dursleys watched, paralyzed by shock as she got bigger and bigger.

Dudely got hit in the face twice with her buttons as her dog, Ripper, bit at Vernon's ankle. Marge tried to hold to the tablecloth as she began floating into the air, but it just came with her.

She began screaming as she bounced against the ceiling, and Harry and I finally exchanged a look after what we'd done. She bounced outside and began floating into the sky as Vernon called out to her. Harry and I took a step forward, completely shocked as to what just happened.

Vernon tried to grab on to her, but he just went floating with her, and soon he couldn't hold on anymore. He fell to the ground, on his face, and it was almost better than when he did last year. Almost.