Muggles & Spark Plugs - Arthur Weasley

7: Raven and the Snake

When Frederick woke up the next morning and went down to breakfast, he saw Ivory was almost screaming as she waved a red envelope around, which was shouting even louder than she. "Your brains may have gotten you far, but believe me, we are not proud. Ravens and snakes do not clash, without one being eaten by the other. Do not expect a place for you around the table for Christmas. Your sister on the other hand, will have full permission to burn each and every present belonging to a now Raven. Happy holidays!" The letter smoked and lit aflame by itself, charring into gray ashes that drifted off into the wind, the receiver holding onto to the parchment all the while. But the letter was not done yet, for a long and piercing laugh, exactly like Ariana's, cut through the hall.

"What was that?"

Ivory seemed incapable of answering, so a boy across from Fred answered his question, "That was a Howler, a letter that can literally express great emotions of a wizard or witch."

He whistled lowly. "That makes junk mail look like Valentine's Day."

"What is junk mail?" The boy asked.

Before Fred could answer, Ivory cut in, "It's worthless advertisements and the lot."

"Ah, Muggles...." The boy said it not like Ariana would, cold toned with disgust constant. He said it in a way that made Fred think of Arthur, curious and partly confused.

He held out a hand. "Fred Weasley."

The boy grabbed his hand with his own and shook it. "Aaron Liver." He gave a nod in Ivory's direction. "I see you've met my cousin."

"You're not - well - like Ariana, are you?"

The two cousins laughed. "No, no, good heavens, I hope I'll never be like that witch," Aaron said.

Ivory gave him a pointed look.

"Oh, right you're her sister."

"And a fellow witch."

Fred hurriedly scooped hash brown into his mouth to hide the smile forming.

"What's so funny, Weasley?"

"Nothing, defiantly nothing."

"This better not be about the Howler..."

"Believe me, it's not."
___

After their first few classes of Transfiguration and History, which Fred somehow managed to fall asleep in both but was woken up halfway by Ivory each time due to the sharpness of the quill she kept poking him with, there was one class Fred was actually determined to stay awake in: Flying.

The first year Ravenclaws shoved open a door leading off from the Hall and stepped out into a cloudy day. Fred breathed in the fresh air. He stumbled and fell onto the green beneath. A splash was heard above the chattering of students. He groaned and brushed off his robes, knowing the mud on his shoes would not dry in time. His head jerked up only to see the face of Louis Anderson inches from his own. He scurried backwards on his hands and knees and stood up. Yep, that dirt was not leaving any time soon.

Fred turned his back on Louis as something hard connected with his ear. He stumbled again but did not fall. Whipping around, Fred did not have a single regret, not a single thought, as he grabbed the boy's collar. His hand found his wand and jabbed it at his neck.

"Oh, Weasley, do you really think I had not seen you fall asleep in the only class where magic was actually taught?"

He should not have taken the bait, should have listened to Ivory, but that was enough for Fred Andrew Jefferson, Weasley or not. He did not know a single spell, as Anderson had pointed out, but he did have his fists if it came down to it.