Chapter 47 — The Question Beyond the Airwaves
The radio hummed softly in the corner, its amber light flickering in rhythm with the snowstorm outside. The room was warm, filled with the soft afterglow of laughter and carols that drifted between wizarding and Muggle frequencies. Even Dumbledore, who had seen centuries of marvels, sat back with a rare, boyish look of delight.
Arthur Weasley still hadn't recovered from the shock. He kept staring at his own contraption like it had suddenly grown wings. "I only built that out of curiosity," he murmured, shaking his head. "Didn't think it would ever catch a proper Muggle frequency."
"Curiosity," Flitwick said cheerfully, "is the foundation of all discovery, Arthur! Most wizards would never think to combine Muggle circuitry and magical enchantments."
Molly, arms folded, shot her husband a sharp look. "And most wizards would never risk blowing up the kitchen for it, either."
Arthur winced but smiled sheepishly. "Well, dear, it worked out in the end, didn't it?"
The Headmaster's eyes twinkled. "Indeed it did," Dumbledore said, his voice soft and approving. "I suspect this little device has brought together more than just signals tonight." His gaze shifted to Ron, who was quietly observing the flickering light of the radio, his expression thoughtful.
"Ronald," Dumbledore said gently, "you've shown remarkable insight this evening — in your dueling, your theories, even in your restraint. Tell me, my boy… what is it that you wish to do next?"
The question hung in the air. The twins stopped whispering; Ginny looked up, wide-eyed. Even Percy paused mid-bite, quill and parchment forgotten beside his plate.
Ron blinked slowly, considering the question with an honesty that silenced the room. "To be honest, sir," he said finally, "I don't know."
That alone startled most of them — especially Molly, who was used to her youngest son having an answer for everything lately.
Ron leaned back slightly, his tone calm but tinged with restless energy. "After finishing the Herbology book and working on my swordsmanship, I've… had too much time on my hands. Having nothing to do all day — it's borderline driving me crazy."
Fred grinned. "Welcome to our world, little brother."
George smirked. "We've been perfecting that art for years."
Charlie snorted. "Except he actually studies during his boredom. You two just prank Percy."
"Not true," Fred said proudly. "Sometimes we prank Mum."
Molly glared. The twins instantly went quiet.
Dumbledore chuckled softly before leaning forward again. "Restlessness can be a dangerous or a marvelous thing, depending on where it leads," he said. "Tell me, Ronald… what do you think of Muggles?"
Ron hesitated. Everyone turned toward him — even Luna Lovegood, who had been tracing circles in the air with her fork.
Finally, Ron replied, "I don't think I know enough about them to have an opinion." His voice was calm, matter-of-fact. "Everything I've learned about Muggles comes from books, and books only show one side of things. I want to understand how they live, what they build, and how they think."
Flitwick's eyes gleamed with delight. "Excellent answer, young man! Observation before judgment — that's the mark of a true scholar."
Dumbledore nodded, clearly pleased. "And how would you propose to gain this understanding, Ronald?"
Ron met his gaze evenly. "By going there," he said.
The room went silent again — even the radio crackled and faded, as if holding its breath.
"Excuse me?" Molly's voice rose dangerously, sharper than any hex. "You want to go to the Muggle world?"
Ron didn't flinch. "Yes."
"Alone?" Molly's expression tightening.
"Along with Ginny", Ron nodded.
"You're nine years old!" Molly snapped. "You're not even at Hogwarts yet, and you want to run off into the Muggle world? And with Ginny of all people?!"
Ginny, who had been quietly listening, jumped in before Ron could respond. "Mum, it's not like he means alone—"
"Quiet, young lady!" Molly cut her off, her face red with worry and disbelief. "You've already got him waving swords around the house; now you want to follow him into a world full of—of electricity and moving boxes?!"
"Muggles, Mum," Ron said softly. His calm tone only made her angrier.
Arthur gently placed a hand on Molly's arm, trying to defuse the rising storm. "Let's hear him out, Molly," he said quietly.
Ron's gaze softened slightly as he spoke. "I'm not talking about going unsupervised," he said. "I was thinking — Headmaster could arrange for me and Ginny to have Muggle identities for a short time. Maybe… with a squib as our guardian. Someone who understands both worlds and could teach us about their side."
Everyone stared at him — even the twins, who for once had no snark ready.
Flitwick adjusted his glasses, intrigued. "A rather sophisticated proposal for a nine-year-old," he murmured. "You've already thought about the logistics?"
Ron nodded. "A little. If we're to live in a world that hides from another, we should at least know what we're hiding from. I think… it would help us understand magic better too."
Arthur blinked, visibly impressed. "That's… remarkably sound reasoning."
But Molly's jaw was tight. "And why, may I ask, must Ginny go?"
Ron turned toward his mother, his expression softening. "Because she's getting restless too," he said honestly. "There aren't many indoor games in the wizarding world. Ginny spends most of her time either in the garden or chasing after the ghoul in the attic. She needs something different — something that challenges her without magic."
Ginny blinked at him, surprised — then smiled faintly, grateful.
Molly opened her mouth to argue, but Dumbledore spoke gently before she could. "Mrs. Weasley," he said, "perhaps there's wisdom in what young Ronald suggests. Supervision would, of course, be absolute. And the experience could offer both children an invaluable perspective."
Molly's eyes darted between the Headmaster and her son, clearly torn between maternal terror and reluctant respect.
"Dumbledore," she said stiffly, "you can't possibly think it's safe to send two children into the Muggle world."
"With the right precautions," Dumbledore said kindly, "it can be safer than many places within our own. There are Muggles who live quietly, kindly, and curiously — much like Arthur here."
Arthur smiled bashfully. "Well, I do like their plugs," he admitted.
Flitwick laughed. "And their puzzles! Have you ever seen a Rubik's Cube?"
The tension thinned slightly, replaced by cautious interest.
Xenophilius Lovegood adjusted his hat, nodding thoughtfully. "Exposure breeds understanding," he said in his dreamy voice. "If the young Weasleys can see the Muggle world firsthand, perhaps they'll find bridges we've long forgotten."
Cedric Diggory's father, Amos, nodded too. "It's not a bad idea, Molly. My boy's grown up around both worlds. It teaches them humility — and practicality."
Molly sighed, defeated but unconvinced. "You'll be the end of me, Ronald," she muttered, collapsing into her chair.
Ron smiled softly, looking toward Dumbledore. "If you can arrange it, Headmaster… I'd like to try. Just for a while."
Dumbledore regarded him with quiet admiration. "You have an old soul, Ronald Weasley," he said. "Very well. I will see what can be arranged. Perhaps the Ministry's liaison office can assist."
Flitwick grinned. "And I'll see if I can find a squib colleague who owes me a favor or two."
Ron bowed his head slightly. "Thank you, professors."
As the radio began playing another soft carol — this one from the wizarding station — the conversation turned lighter again. But for Dumbledore, watching the young Weasley with those calm, calculating eyes, one thought lingered in his mind:
The boy wasn't just bridging worlds anymore.
He was preparing to walk between them.