Chapter 256: Disagreements about Goblins
The farce on the first night at the Burrow ended with Ron's silence. Even Draco, who usually loved to mock Ron, fell quiet.
In truth, Alexander still wanted to argue about where Harry would sleep.
After all, the more you fight for something, the more you care about it—
even if it means paying a higher price.
But as Harry said, "I think the tent is big enough. The three of us can stay together."
The atmosphere between the three boys grew awkward. Ron couldn't help but groan, thinking that he had lost his dignity over something so trivial.
The ghoul in the attic howled along with Ron's low muttering, banging on the pipes above as if adding background percussion to his misery.
Eventually, all three of them decided to stay in Draco's luxurious tent.
As Ron put it: "I'm already this embarrassed—can't I at least enjoy it a little?"
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The next morning came quickly.
Life at the Burrow was entirely different from life at Privet Drive. The Dursleys liked everything clean and orderly, but the Weasleys' home was full of magic and surprises. The first thing that startled Harry was the talking mirror on the kitchen mantelpiece.
When he looked into it, it screamed, "Tuck your shirt in! You look sloppy!"
There were constant little explosions from Fred and George's room upstairs.
Still, Harry found himself regretting—again—his decision to stay here with Ron.
Not because he didn't like the Burrow, but because everyone here treated him too kindly.
It was so different from Ravenclaw Tower.
The Burrow was warm, chaotic, and full of love—a real family that accepted him completely.
Unlike the Dursleys, who even now, despite treating him better lately, still didn't see him as one of their own.
But ever since Draco's careless words the previous night, that warm atmosphere had become awkward.
Mrs. Weasley, though kind, seemed to subtly ensure that Harry, Draco, and Alexander were never left alone together.
Fred and George were often "volunteered" to accompany them.
"Mom, we've got important experiments to finish!" the twins protested.
"If you don't want to, fine—just hand me your wands first," Mrs. Weasley replied firmly.
Mr. Weasley, on the other hand, loved having Harry sit beside him at mealtimes, constantly asking about Muggle life—everything from plugs to post offices.
And under Mrs. Weasley's sharp gaze, he somehow always ended up asking whether Harry had a girl he fancied, somewhere between those topics.
Still, Harry didn't really mind. Mr. Weasley was a kind man, and Fred and George were good company. Even Ron's occasional sulking couldn't ruin the mood completely.
What really made Harry uneasy, however, was Ginny.
The youngest Weasley no longer blushed or stammered whenever she saw him. Instead, she'd quietly peek at him from corners or doorways—and vanish the moment he turned his head.
Her stealth was almost as good as Alexander's.
That thought alone made Harry sigh in confusion and embarrassment.
Even playing with the enchanted bamboo dragonfly toy in the garden lost its appeal.
The Weasley garden was far larger than Harry expected—overgrown, wild, and alive with strange magical plants. There was even a small green pond full of croaking frogs.
Draco, despite himself, looked impressed.
Though the Malfoy estate was huge, it was cold and lifeless, just like the Dursleys' house—every blade of grass trimmed to perfection.
This garden, though chaotic, was alive.
Ron zipped past them wearing a bamboo dragonfly on his head, swooping through the grass like an owl chasing prey. A moment later, he emerged holding a struggling creature.
"What is that?" Harry asked curiously.
"Goblins!" Ron said with exaggerated gloom.
Alexander laughed. "No, there are gnomes in Muggle gardens too."
"Are they the same?" Harry asked, puzzled.
"Not quite," Ron replied, suddenly sounding thoughtful.
"You see, goblins in the wizarding world are magical creatures that can't be seen by Muggles. But Muggle gnomes—those little garden ornaments—are just decorations."
Then Ron surprised everyone by continuing seriously,
"I asked Dad once why they're different. He said Muggles live easier lives, so the goblins that hang around them evolve differently—smarter, calmer, even wearing clothes. I've seen them before, and they look more like chubby little Santas than the wrinkly things we've got here."
Fred and George actually stopped joking for a moment.
Ron never used to care about details like that.
Just then, the gnome—or goblin—Ron was holding shrieked, "Let me go! Let me go!"
They had been so focused on talking, they'd ignored its cries entirely.
Ron lifted it up by its ankles, ignoring its frantic kicking.
"Alright, watch closely, Harry, Alexander, Draco—this is how you do it," he said cheerfully, swinging the squirming creature above his head like a lasso.
"Let me go!" it screamed again, spinning faster and faster—
and then, with a wild whoosh, Ron released it.
The gnome flew over the hedge and vanished into the weeds beyond the fence.
Fred and George cheered.
Harry, though initially horrified, couldn't help laughing.
By the end of the afternoon, even Alexander joined in.
It turned out to be oddly satisfying—and harmless. Ron had insisted the gnomes didn't get hurt, just dizzy enough to forget where they lived.
And somehow, after everything that had happened,
the three friends—Harry, Draco, and Alexander—ended the day laughing together in the golden light of the Weasley garden.
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