(no subject)
Title: Gno Place Like Home
Author: roxierose13 (
silver_etoile)
Requestor:
attilatehbun
Claim: Little!Ron(2 to 5 yrs)is angry, and is running away. The garden gnomes adopt him for a time, until the few gnomes he's tossed over the back wall finally return home and discover him. Points for any and all 'N's that become 'Gn's.
Rating: G
Summary: Ron's upset when his mother doesn't listen to him and decides to run away. He finds a place with the gnomes for a while...
Warning: None
Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I do not own Harry Potter and/or any other characters used in this fic. They are all property of J.K. Rowling.
Notes: On principle, you'd think it'd be funny because of the prompt. I tried, lol. Oh, and mispellings are on purpose for the most part... :)
*
“Mum!” Ron shouted, running as fast as his short legs would allow him. Behind him, the twins laughed, pointing at the huge black spider that had once been Ron’s teddy bear.
Ron careened around the corner, nearly hitting the large clock in the living room as he scrambled to his mother, grabbing her around the knees and looking up imploringly at her.
“Fred and George turned Mr. Bears into a spider!” Ron said, tears beginning to leak down his face.
“Tell them gnot to, Ronniekins,” Mrs. Weasley said distractedly, stirring the stew on the stove.
“But, mummy!” Ron cried, his lower lip trembling. “They scared me.”
Mrs. Weasley sighed and glanced down at her four-year old son that was clutching her legs. She reached down, pulling him into her arms. “It’s okay, honey. I’ll talk to them later.”
Ron didn’t look appeased as she let him go and gave him a push towards the living room. “Gnow, go play.”
“Mummy…” Ron said questioningly, looking at his mother again, his expression sad.
“Go, Ronny, I don’t have time right gnow.”
Ron stared at his mother for a moment as she turned back to the stove. He turned slowly, wandering back into the living room. Through the doorway, he could see Fred and George playing with the spider using their toy wands.
Ron shuddered and turned, climbing up the steps slowly, using both hands to help him up. He finally made it to the room he shared with Fred and George and went inside, standing on his tiptoes to close the door behind him.
He went over to the closet, pulling it open with difficulty and finding the small sack he’d gotten for his last birthday. Opening it, he grabbed some clothes from his dresser and shoved them in haphazardly. He put in his Harry Potter action figure and one of his comics as well.
When he was finished, he closed the back, his small fingers fumbling over the clasp. He didn’t kgnow how to tie kgnots yet, so he just left it open and swung it over his back. Trumping dowgn the stairs, he arrived in the kitchen, looking up at his mother who was gnow in the process of chopping vegetables for the stew.
“I’m running away,” Ron said firmly, watching his mother.
Mrs. Weasley stopped chopping but didn’t turn arougnd. After a moment’s pause, she turned to face him, leaning back against the counter. Her eyes took in his tiny pack and the determigned look on his face.
“Alright,” she said finally.
“I’m gnot coming back,” Ron said.
Mrs. Weasley gnodded. “If that’s what you wagnt.”
Ron looked like he was surprised at his mother’s response. He stood on the doorway for a few more minutes, as though waiting for something. When gnothing was forthcoming, he hoisted his bag higher.
“Bye, Mummy,” he said.
“Goodbye, Ron,” Mrs. Weasley said simply, turning from him and returning to her vegetables.
Ron turned slowly, glancing back at his mum, but she didn’t look back. He began walking slowly towards the front door, his pack on his back. As he reached it, he looked back once more, but his mother hadn’t turned at all.
He pulled open the door using both hands and stood in the doorway, looking out at the vast expagnse that was their front lawgn. It looked much bigger than he remembered. With another glance backward, Ron climbed down the front steps, stepping out into the huge world that lay beyond his doorstep.
He wandered out the front of the house but decided the back would be better. Climbing through the tall grass and bushes that grew up around the side of his house, Ron made his way through the jungle to the backyard and the garden.
He looked out at the messy garden with weeds sprouting up in each flower bed. He took a deep breath and started out into it, deciding he would live here. He didn’t see his mother watching him carefully from the kitchen window.
As he walked back a large boot, he heard an odd giggle. Ron stopped, bending down and peering inside. He saw in the heel of it a small kgnobbly-kgneed gnome. The gnome made a face at him and Ron frowned.
“Hi,” he said.
“Gerroff,” the gnome said, glaring at Ron.
Ron paused, gnot kgnowing what to do. “I’m Ron.”
The gnome gave Ron an appraising look and inched out of the boot.
“Gerroff?” the gnome said carefully, sizing Ron up. Ron was at least a few feet taller than him, but he could tell he was much younger.
“I runned away,” Ron said, gazing back at his house behind him.
The gnome came fully out of the boot, peering up at Ron with a calculating look on his gruff face.
“Home overder,” the gnome said, pointing with his stubby hand over the fence that ran the length of the Weasley’s garden.
Ron followed the gnome’s hand and frowned. “That’s far away.”
“You come,” the gnome said, grabbing hold of Ron’s finger and pulling.
“But,” Ron said, looking forlornly at his house.
“You run’way?” the gnome asked. “Come, homeder.”
Ron hesitated for another second, but heard a crash and yelling as Mrs. Weasley began yelling at the twins.
“’Kay,” he said, standing up and following the gnome as he waddled and climbed over the weeds, making his way to the wall. Ron came with as the gnome scrambled over the top of the wall. Ron climbed up slowly, tumbling over and landing in a pile of dirt.
On the other side, Ron was faced with the desolate strip of land pugnctuated only by a few trees and another house in the distance.
“Come,” the gnome said, tugging on Ron’s fingers again. Ron followed the gnome a few feet to where a large hole opened up in the ground. Ron wasn’t sure he would fit, but on the gnome’s persuasion, he slid in and found he did fit. It was the perfect size for him.
He slid into the ground, falling on a landing where he stood up carefully, peering through the darkness. His gnome friend appeared seconds later with a flop on the landing. He stood up and grabbed a tiny torch from the wall, tapping it with his hand and it lighted.
Ron followed the gnome carefully down a few winding tunnels. He had never imagined this was what gnomes lived like. His eyes widened as they entered into a large cavern filled with gnomes.
“Gerroff! Gerroff!” the gnomes yelled when they caught sight of Ron. They started running in all directions, running into each other and some coming at Ron with their little fists raised. Ron stumbled backwards, a little scared of what was happening.
Luckily, his gnome guide stepped in front of him to stop the others. “Gno,” he said, “we teach be gnome.”
Ron watched uneasily as the gnomes stopped, lowering their fists slowly and looking at him and his gnome friend. They seemed to be contemplating the suggestion but accepted it almost immediately.
They rushed forward and Ron shrank back, but they grabbed his fingers, tugging him forward and he was obliged to go with them, following his group of gnomes into another large cavern where they sat him down and began to mill around him, gathering dirt in their hands.
They took Ron’s back and began rummaging in it. Ron watched helplessly as they pulled out his shirts and examined them. He was surprised as the gnomes began to pat dirt against his skin. He looked down, confused.
“What’s that?” he asked.
One of the gnomes looked at him. “Gnome bath.”
Ron was perplexed as the gnomes continued to pat dirt into his skin, smearing it over his arms and legs. This wasn’t quite the bath he was used to.
When the gnomes had finished, they prodded him upward and shunted him along another tunnel. He walked along carefully, having gno idea what was going on. He was brought to another large room where there were more gnomes, all sitting on the floor, their stubby legs stuck out in front of them.
His chaperones sat him down on the floor and then scurried away. Ron looked around him, wondering what was happening. A few moments later, a gnome appeared, carrying what looked like plants in his grubby hands. He set them at Ron’s feet and waited.
Ron stared at the pile, seeing dirty roots sticking out of it. To his left, he watched as a gnome caught sight of something moving in his pile. In a pounce, the gnome was pulling out a worm, shoving it into his mouth and sucking it in, chewing and swallowing with a satisfied smack of his lips.
“Ew,” Ron said, sticking out his tongue, watching as the gnome went on the hunt for more worms.
The gnomes at his feet were watching him carefully, but Ron had gno desire to eat the pile of dirty roots and possibly worms.
“I want cookies,” he said, looking around the group of gnomes. They looked confused at the request and pushed the pile of shrubbery closer. “Gno,” Ron whined. He didn’t understand. At home, he would have had cookies. His mummy would have given him one.
The gnomes looked confused, but didn’t bother trying to understand. Instead, they pushed Ron up and led him back along another dark passageway.
Ron wasn’t sure he liked living with the gnomes. He had just wagnted his mum to realize she loved him. He wagnted them to miss him, go looking for him.
Ron was pushed into another room where gnomes were talking in gruff, nonsensical voices. He didn’t understand a word of it. His gnomes left him to join in the conversation and he sunk down onto the ground, picking at a piece of root that hung from the ceiling.
He wasn’t listening to the conversation, instead concentrating on pulling out the root that hung above him.
He carved out the dirt around it, flinching as it fell into his hair and onto his face. He ignored the dirt, though, and continued picking at the root, fignding it became bigger, the more dirt he removed from around it.
After about ten minutes of digging around the root, Ron found it was big enough to grab hold. He wrapped his small fist around the root and tugged, more dirt tumbling down from the ceiling and into his lap.
He pulled harder, wanting the root to come down. He hardly noticed the amount of dirt increasing, crumbling and falling around him and on him.
The gnomes around him had stopped their conversation, looking up at the ceiling with curiosity as more dirt fell.
Ron scrunched up his face with concentration as he pulled harder. He wanted that root. With a big tug, the root came out, along with a huge clod of dirt, hitting Ron ogn the head. “Owie,” he said, rubbing his head.
The gnomes around him had begun to panic and he realized why as he looked up, seeing the dirt crumbling quicker than before and beginning to fall down in big piles. The gnomes took off down the passageway, running and yelling loudly.
Ron scrambled to his feet, taking off after the gnomes just as the entire ceiling of the room collapsed, blocking off the room. Ron and the gnomes ran all the way back to the maign room Ron had first come to.
Ron stood off to the side, staring down the gnow black hallway. He looked at the root in his hand and quickly threw it to the floor.
All the gnomes were gnow glaring at him and he backed away, frightened.
”Ruin!” one yelled, pointing his stubby finger at Ron.
Ron backed away, hitting the wall as the gnomes advanced on him. He didn’t kgnow what to say. All he kgnew was that he wanted to go home. He didn’t like running away. It was scary.
“What happen!” A cry sounded to his left and Ron looked over, relieved to see his original gnome friend from the garden.
One of the gnomes in front of Ron turned, his little face contorted in anger. “No eat worms! Cave fall down!”
Ron watched fearfully as the gnome took this all in. He looked up at Ron, his expression no longer friendly.
“Go’ome!” he said, pointing at the entrance door.
“But-“ Ron said, staring around him.
He couldn’t say anything more as no less than six gnomes seized him, lifting him up and carrying him out the gnome hole. Ron was rendered speechless as the gnomes carried him over to the wall, hoisting him up and dumping him over it.
He landed with a flop on the other side, covered in dirt and discombobulated. He sat there for a second and was surprised as his bag landed on his head. He took it down, pushing himself to his feet carefully, swaying slightly as he stood up.
He stumbled to the back door of his house, extremely glad to see it. He pulled open the door and stepped into the kitchen, dropping his bag in surprise as his mother let out a cry.
“Oh, Ronny!” she exclaimed, rushing over to him and pulling him into a hug. “Thank goodness you’re home! What happened to you?” she asked, pulling away and wiping off some of the dirt ogn his face. “You need a bath, mister.”
Ron smiled widely as she tisked over his appearance. He was happy to kgnow she had missed him.
“Are you hungry, sweetie?” she asked, picking him up and setting him ogn a chair at the table.
“Yes,” he said promptly. “Can I have cookies?”
Mrs. Weasley shook her head. “No sugar before dinner. Anything else?”
“Anything but worms,” Ron said, sticking his tongue out as Mrs. Weasley laughed. She hugged him tightly and turned to the stove, whipping him up a snack.
As Ron sat in the big chair, he saw Fred and George slinking by. He gave them a superior smile and stuck his tongue out at them.
Fred and George merely scowled, but Fred raised his toy wand and pointed it the pillow in the next chair. They left the room laughing as Ron shrieked, scrambling away from the large spider that had just appeared on the chair.
Ron was comforted as his mother turned around, vanishing the spider and going after Fred and George. Ron smiled happily as he heard Mrs. Weasley yelling at his brothers and taking away their wands. Through the window, he saw his gnome friend sneaking back into the garden and he paused.
Living with the gnomes was different, but Ron decided he really rather preferred living at home with his mum and family.
He was distracted from his thoughts as his mother returned, grumbling about his two brothers. She handed him a sandwich and watched as he took a big bite out of it. Yes, Ron was much happier here than with the gnomes. This, he was sure of.
~~**~~
A/N: Well? After all, there's gno place like The Burrow! ;)
Author: roxierose13 (
silver_etoile)
Requestor:
attilatehbun
Claim: Little!Ron(2 to 5 yrs)is angry, and is running away. The garden gnomes adopt him for a time, until the few gnomes he's tossed over the back wall finally return home and discover him. Points for any and all 'N's that become 'Gn's.
Rating: G
Summary: Ron's upset when his mother doesn't listen to him and decides to run away. He finds a place with the gnomes for a while...
Warning: None
Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I do not own Harry Potter and/or any other characters used in this fic. They are all property of J.K. Rowling.
Notes: On principle, you'd think it'd be funny because of the prompt. I tried, lol. Oh, and mispellings are on purpose for the most part... :)
*
“Mum!” Ron shouted, running as fast as his short legs would allow him. Behind him, the twins laughed, pointing at the huge black spider that had once been Ron’s teddy bear.
Ron careened around the corner, nearly hitting the large clock in the living room as he scrambled to his mother, grabbing her around the knees and looking up imploringly at her.
“Fred and George turned Mr. Bears into a spider!” Ron said, tears beginning to leak down his face.
“Tell them gnot to, Ronniekins,” Mrs. Weasley said distractedly, stirring the stew on the stove.
“But, mummy!” Ron cried, his lower lip trembling. “They scared me.”
Mrs. Weasley sighed and glanced down at her four-year old son that was clutching her legs. She reached down, pulling him into her arms. “It’s okay, honey. I’ll talk to them later.”
Ron didn’t look appeased as she let him go and gave him a push towards the living room. “Gnow, go play.”
“Mummy…” Ron said questioningly, looking at his mother again, his expression sad.
“Go, Ronny, I don’t have time right gnow.”
Ron stared at his mother for a moment as she turned back to the stove. He turned slowly, wandering back into the living room. Through the doorway, he could see Fred and George playing with the spider using their toy wands.
Ron shuddered and turned, climbing up the steps slowly, using both hands to help him up. He finally made it to the room he shared with Fred and George and went inside, standing on his tiptoes to close the door behind him.
He went over to the closet, pulling it open with difficulty and finding the small sack he’d gotten for his last birthday. Opening it, he grabbed some clothes from his dresser and shoved them in haphazardly. He put in his Harry Potter action figure and one of his comics as well.
When he was finished, he closed the back, his small fingers fumbling over the clasp. He didn’t kgnow how to tie kgnots yet, so he just left it open and swung it over his back. Trumping dowgn the stairs, he arrived in the kitchen, looking up at his mother who was gnow in the process of chopping vegetables for the stew.
“I’m running away,” Ron said firmly, watching his mother.
Mrs. Weasley stopped chopping but didn’t turn arougnd. After a moment’s pause, she turned to face him, leaning back against the counter. Her eyes took in his tiny pack and the determigned look on his face.
“Alright,” she said finally.
“I’m gnot coming back,” Ron said.
Mrs. Weasley gnodded. “If that’s what you wagnt.”
Ron looked like he was surprised at his mother’s response. He stood on the doorway for a few more minutes, as though waiting for something. When gnothing was forthcoming, he hoisted his bag higher.
“Bye, Mummy,” he said.
“Goodbye, Ron,” Mrs. Weasley said simply, turning from him and returning to her vegetables.
Ron turned slowly, glancing back at his mum, but she didn’t look back. He began walking slowly towards the front door, his pack on his back. As he reached it, he looked back once more, but his mother hadn’t turned at all.
He pulled open the door using both hands and stood in the doorway, looking out at the vast expagnse that was their front lawgn. It looked much bigger than he remembered. With another glance backward, Ron climbed down the front steps, stepping out into the huge world that lay beyond his doorstep.
He wandered out the front of the house but decided the back would be better. Climbing through the tall grass and bushes that grew up around the side of his house, Ron made his way through the jungle to the backyard and the garden.
He looked out at the messy garden with weeds sprouting up in each flower bed. He took a deep breath and started out into it, deciding he would live here. He didn’t see his mother watching him carefully from the kitchen window.
As he walked back a large boot, he heard an odd giggle. Ron stopped, bending down and peering inside. He saw in the heel of it a small kgnobbly-kgneed gnome. The gnome made a face at him and Ron frowned.
“Hi,” he said.
“Gerroff,” the gnome said, glaring at Ron.
Ron paused, gnot kgnowing what to do. “I’m Ron.”
The gnome gave Ron an appraising look and inched out of the boot.
“Gerroff?” the gnome said carefully, sizing Ron up. Ron was at least a few feet taller than him, but he could tell he was much younger.
“I runned away,” Ron said, gazing back at his house behind him.
The gnome came fully out of the boot, peering up at Ron with a calculating look on his gruff face.
“Home overder,” the gnome said, pointing with his stubby hand over the fence that ran the length of the Weasley’s garden.
Ron followed the gnome’s hand and frowned. “That’s far away.”
“You come,” the gnome said, grabbing hold of Ron’s finger and pulling.
“But,” Ron said, looking forlornly at his house.
“You run’way?” the gnome asked. “Come, homeder.”
Ron hesitated for another second, but heard a crash and yelling as Mrs. Weasley began yelling at the twins.
“’Kay,” he said, standing up and following the gnome as he waddled and climbed over the weeds, making his way to the wall. Ron came with as the gnome scrambled over the top of the wall. Ron climbed up slowly, tumbling over and landing in a pile of dirt.
On the other side, Ron was faced with the desolate strip of land pugnctuated only by a few trees and another house in the distance.
“Come,” the gnome said, tugging on Ron’s fingers again. Ron followed the gnome a few feet to where a large hole opened up in the ground. Ron wasn’t sure he would fit, but on the gnome’s persuasion, he slid in and found he did fit. It was the perfect size for him.
He slid into the ground, falling on a landing where he stood up carefully, peering through the darkness. His gnome friend appeared seconds later with a flop on the landing. He stood up and grabbed a tiny torch from the wall, tapping it with his hand and it lighted.
Ron followed the gnome carefully down a few winding tunnels. He had never imagined this was what gnomes lived like. His eyes widened as they entered into a large cavern filled with gnomes.
“Gerroff! Gerroff!” the gnomes yelled when they caught sight of Ron. They started running in all directions, running into each other and some coming at Ron with their little fists raised. Ron stumbled backwards, a little scared of what was happening.
Luckily, his gnome guide stepped in front of him to stop the others. “Gno,” he said, “we teach be gnome.”
Ron watched uneasily as the gnomes stopped, lowering their fists slowly and looking at him and his gnome friend. They seemed to be contemplating the suggestion but accepted it almost immediately.
They rushed forward and Ron shrank back, but they grabbed his fingers, tugging him forward and he was obliged to go with them, following his group of gnomes into another large cavern where they sat him down and began to mill around him, gathering dirt in their hands.
They took Ron’s back and began rummaging in it. Ron watched helplessly as they pulled out his shirts and examined them. He was surprised as the gnomes began to pat dirt against his skin. He looked down, confused.
“What’s that?” he asked.
One of the gnomes looked at him. “Gnome bath.”
Ron was perplexed as the gnomes continued to pat dirt into his skin, smearing it over his arms and legs. This wasn’t quite the bath he was used to.
When the gnomes had finished, they prodded him upward and shunted him along another tunnel. He walked along carefully, having gno idea what was going on. He was brought to another large room where there were more gnomes, all sitting on the floor, their stubby legs stuck out in front of them.
His chaperones sat him down on the floor and then scurried away. Ron looked around him, wondering what was happening. A few moments later, a gnome appeared, carrying what looked like plants in his grubby hands. He set them at Ron’s feet and waited.
Ron stared at the pile, seeing dirty roots sticking out of it. To his left, he watched as a gnome caught sight of something moving in his pile. In a pounce, the gnome was pulling out a worm, shoving it into his mouth and sucking it in, chewing and swallowing with a satisfied smack of his lips.
“Ew,” Ron said, sticking out his tongue, watching as the gnome went on the hunt for more worms.
The gnomes at his feet were watching him carefully, but Ron had gno desire to eat the pile of dirty roots and possibly worms.
“I want cookies,” he said, looking around the group of gnomes. They looked confused at the request and pushed the pile of shrubbery closer. “Gno,” Ron whined. He didn’t understand. At home, he would have had cookies. His mummy would have given him one.
The gnomes looked confused, but didn’t bother trying to understand. Instead, they pushed Ron up and led him back along another dark passageway.
Ron wasn’t sure he liked living with the gnomes. He had just wagnted his mum to realize she loved him. He wagnted them to miss him, go looking for him.
Ron was pushed into another room where gnomes were talking in gruff, nonsensical voices. He didn’t understand a word of it. His gnomes left him to join in the conversation and he sunk down onto the ground, picking at a piece of root that hung from the ceiling.
He wasn’t listening to the conversation, instead concentrating on pulling out the root that hung above him.
He carved out the dirt around it, flinching as it fell into his hair and onto his face. He ignored the dirt, though, and continued picking at the root, fignding it became bigger, the more dirt he removed from around it.
After about ten minutes of digging around the root, Ron found it was big enough to grab hold. He wrapped his small fist around the root and tugged, more dirt tumbling down from the ceiling and into his lap.
He pulled harder, wanting the root to come down. He hardly noticed the amount of dirt increasing, crumbling and falling around him and on him.
The gnomes around him had stopped their conversation, looking up at the ceiling with curiosity as more dirt fell.
Ron scrunched up his face with concentration as he pulled harder. He wanted that root. With a big tug, the root came out, along with a huge clod of dirt, hitting Ron ogn the head. “Owie,” he said, rubbing his head.
The gnomes around him had begun to panic and he realized why as he looked up, seeing the dirt crumbling quicker than before and beginning to fall down in big piles. The gnomes took off down the passageway, running and yelling loudly.
Ron scrambled to his feet, taking off after the gnomes just as the entire ceiling of the room collapsed, blocking off the room. Ron and the gnomes ran all the way back to the maign room Ron had first come to.
Ron stood off to the side, staring down the gnow black hallway. He looked at the root in his hand and quickly threw it to the floor.
All the gnomes were gnow glaring at him and he backed away, frightened.
”Ruin!” one yelled, pointing his stubby finger at Ron.
Ron backed away, hitting the wall as the gnomes advanced on him. He didn’t kgnow what to say. All he kgnew was that he wanted to go home. He didn’t like running away. It was scary.
“What happen!” A cry sounded to his left and Ron looked over, relieved to see his original gnome friend from the garden.
One of the gnomes in front of Ron turned, his little face contorted in anger. “No eat worms! Cave fall down!”
Ron watched fearfully as the gnome took this all in. He looked up at Ron, his expression no longer friendly.
“Go’ome!” he said, pointing at the entrance door.
“But-“ Ron said, staring around him.
He couldn’t say anything more as no less than six gnomes seized him, lifting him up and carrying him out the gnome hole. Ron was rendered speechless as the gnomes carried him over to the wall, hoisting him up and dumping him over it.
He landed with a flop on the other side, covered in dirt and discombobulated. He sat there for a second and was surprised as his bag landed on his head. He took it down, pushing himself to his feet carefully, swaying slightly as he stood up.
He stumbled to the back door of his house, extremely glad to see it. He pulled open the door and stepped into the kitchen, dropping his bag in surprise as his mother let out a cry.
“Oh, Ronny!” she exclaimed, rushing over to him and pulling him into a hug. “Thank goodness you’re home! What happened to you?” she asked, pulling away and wiping off some of the dirt ogn his face. “You need a bath, mister.”
Ron smiled widely as she tisked over his appearance. He was happy to kgnow she had missed him.
“Are you hungry, sweetie?” she asked, picking him up and setting him ogn a chair at the table.
“Yes,” he said promptly. “Can I have cookies?”
Mrs. Weasley shook her head. “No sugar before dinner. Anything else?”
“Anything but worms,” Ron said, sticking his tongue out as Mrs. Weasley laughed. She hugged him tightly and turned to the stove, whipping him up a snack.
As Ron sat in the big chair, he saw Fred and George slinking by. He gave them a superior smile and stuck his tongue out at them.
Fred and George merely scowled, but Fred raised his toy wand and pointed it the pillow in the next chair. They left the room laughing as Ron shrieked, scrambling away from the large spider that had just appeared on the chair.
Ron was comforted as his mother turned around, vanishing the spider and going after Fred and George. Ron smiled happily as he heard Mrs. Weasley yelling at his brothers and taking away their wands. Through the window, he saw his gnome friend sneaking back into the garden and he paused.
Living with the gnomes was different, but Ron decided he really rather preferred living at home with his mum and family.
He was distracted from his thoughts as his mother returned, grumbling about his two brothers. She handed him a sandwich and watched as he took a big bite out of it. Yes, Ron was much happier here than with the gnomes. This, he was sure of.
~~**~~
A/N: Well? After all, there's gno place like The Burrow! ;)