…Ron’s ears turned bright red and he became engrossed in a tuft of grass at his feet, which he prodded with his toe, ‘he must’ve known I’d run out on you.’
‘No,’ Harry corrected him. ‘He must’ve known you’d always want to come back.’
Hermione returned a quarter of an hour later with the silvery Cloak folded carefully under her robes.
‘Hermione, I don’t know what’s got into you lately!’ said Ron, astounded. ‘First you hit Malfoy, then you walk out on Professor Trelawney –’
Hermione looked rather flattered.
Ron’s school spellbooks were stacked untidily in a corner, next to a pile of comics which all seemed to feature ‘The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle’. Ron’s magic wand was lying on top of a fish tank full of frogspawn on the window-sill, next to his fat grey rat, Scabbers, who was snoozing in a patch of sun.
Harry stepped over a pack of Self-Shuffling playing cards on the floor and looked out of the tiny window. In the field far below he could see a gang of gnomes sneaking, one by one, back through the Weasleys’ hedge. Then he turned to look at Ron, who was watching him almost nervously, as though waiting for his opinion.
‘It’s a bit small,’ said Ron quickly. ‘Not like that room you had with the Muggles. And I’m right underneath the ghoul in the attic, he’s always banging on the pipes and groaning…’
But Harry, grinning widely, said, ‘This is the best house I’ve ever been in.’
Ron’s ears went pink.