A comfortable peace settled over The Burrow, a welcome change after the recent chaos. One sunny afternoon, Aiden followed Arthuer down into his infamous workshop, a sprawling basement that was part shed, part alchemist's laboratory.
"Welcome to my laboratory!" Arthur announced, puffing out his chest with pride. "And I'll have you know, every single instrument here is homemade."
Aiden was momentarily speechless. He was finally beginning to understand the sheer depth of a middle-aged man's passion for his hobbies. The workshop was astonishingly well-equipped, filled with everything from arcane instruments to ritualistic circles drawn on the floorboards.
"It's incredible, Uncle Arthur," Aiden said, genuinely impressed.
"Heh heh, come on, let me show you my latest treasure!"
Arthur practically dragged Aiden deeper into the workshop, to where a familiar cyan Ford Anglia stood parked. His eyes glazed over with a familiar, feverish gleam.
"There she is. Look at this charming little baby! Oh, that black license plate with the strange numbers! And are those two crystals on the front for providing power? Oh, and there's more..." He looked like he was about to physically pounce on the car and dissect it with his bare hands.
Aiden quickly grabbed his arm. "Uncle Arthur, slow down. Do you have a structural diagram for this car?"
"No, but that's no bother," Arthuer said cheerfully. "If it breaks, we'll just fix it as we go!"
Aiden sighed. It was a terrible plan, but it was also a very Arthuer plan. And so, the great disassembly began.
It was a long, grimy process, but by midday, the car was reduced to a carefully organised pile of parts.
"My word," Arthuer said, wiping a streak of engine oil from his forehead as he sat on the floor. "Muggle contraptions are certainly complex. I never would have imagined their technology had progressed this far."
"They have their own kind of magic," Aiden said with a half-smile, his own face smudged with dirt. "Who knows? Maybe one day, their magic will be strong enough that we'll have nowhere left to hide."
"How could that be possible? Just by Muggles?" Arthuer said, shaking his head in disbelief. He clearly thought Aiden was joking.
Aiden just smiled, picked up the entire engine block—a piece of metal that had to weigh nearly eight hundred pounds—and placed it on the workbench as if it weighed nothing.
Arthuer's jaw dropped. "That thing must be enormous!"
Aiden grinned. "I'm strong."
"Oh, that's wonderful!" Arthuer said wittily. "You can handle the assembly by yourself, then."
"No way, Uncle! You can't do this to me."
"Alright, alright, no more jokes. Let's get it put back together."
Arthuer got up, grabbed a wrench, and began working.
"No magic?" Aiden asked.
"No," Arthuer replied, his focus intense. "Assembling it myself lets me better feel the Muggle technology. You know, Aiden, I'm beginning to believe what you said."
After another hour of work, the two of them had reassembled the car. It looked… mostly correct, if you ignored the sizable pile of leftover parts on the floor.
They looked at the pile, then at each other.
"Well," Arthuer said finally, "perhaps those parts were superfluous to begin with."
He spread his hands, hopped into the driver's seat, and turned the key. With a sputter and a bang, the engine coughed to life, hissed violently, and then spewed a thick cloud of white smoke.
Aiden sighed. "Uncle, sometimes we just have to admit we're wizards. Let's not reinvent the wheel. Reparo."
He took out his wand and cast the spell. The leftover parts on the floor flew back into their proper places, and the engine, which had clearly blown a cylinder, magically restored itself.
Emerging from the basement, they were greeted by the sight of Molly schooling Ron in wizarding duels out in the yard.
"Get up, Ron! Your enemies won't give you a moment to breathe on the battlefield!" she commanded, sending a stinging hex that knocked Ron flat on his back. She looked fierce and heroic, every bit the dueling prodigy from the Prewett family.
"Merlin's beard, Mum, I really can't take any more," Ron begged from the grass.
"Fine," she said, lowering her wand. "We'll stop for today. It just so happens that Aiden is here. You're in charge of making sure Ron studies. All those books need to be memorized." She shot Ron a fierce glare before putting away her wand and heading to the kitchen.
Aiden led the groaning Ron up to his room. Once inside, Aiden flopped onto Ron's bed and stretched out like a large, contented cat. Ron, meanwhile, slumped at his desk and reluctantly opened a book.
"This isn't fair!" he complained. "Why am I the only one who has to study during the holiday? Summer and studying shouldn't even be in the same sentence! George, Fred, Percy, even you—none of you have to do this!"
Aiden rolled over to look at the ceiling. "Ron, let me ask you something. Do you want your friendship with Harry to last?"
"Of course," Ron said, confused. "But what does that have to do with this?"
"You know who Harry's enemy is. You've been through thick and thin with him for a whole year. You know how dangerous his future is going to be." Aiden turned his head, his heterochromatic eyes seeming to pierce right through him. "So let me ask you, Ron. When the time comes, will you stand by him? Will you fight alongside him against that man?"
A surge of familiar Gryffindor courage welled up in Ron's chest. "Of course I will. He's my best friend."
"Good," Aiden said, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "Then get stronger. So that when disaster comes, you'll have the strength to face it."
"I know," Ron mumbled, his shoulders slumping again. "It's just… these bloody books are so boring."
"Hmph," Aiden scoffed. "That is the combined magical theory and spellcasting technique from the collections of the Weasley, Prewett, and Greengrass families. Others would kill for the chance to learn it."
Ron's head snapped up. "What? It was you?! You're the culprit! I'm going to kill you!"
He launched himself at Aiden, landing on his chest and immediately attacking his armpits and waist, trying to find a weakness.
"Don't—! This is for your own good—! Stop it, or I'll fight back—hahahaha, stop!"
"It's all your fault! I could have had a normal, miserable summer, but no, you had to make it worse!"
Just as the two were wrestling, Ginny pushed the door open. "Ron, Aiden, Mum says it's time for din—"
She froze. The sight that greeted her was… unexpected. Ron was straddling Aiden on the bed, pinning him down while Aiden clutched his hands, both of them disheveled and breathless. Ginny simply stared, her mind struggling to process the scene.
Ron and Aiden noticed her at the same moment.
A deafening silence descended upon the room.
After dinner, Ron's "happy holiday" resumed, only now Aiden had doubled his required reading. At the same time, many of the Prewett family's private collections were opened to him, each with a strict deadline. To ensure compliance, Molly appointed Percy as his official supervisor. Percy, ever eager to exercise his new Prefect authority, accepted the role with grim satisfaction.
And so, with the concerted efforts of his entire family, Ron's truly happy holiday began.
***********
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