What a Phony

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 It was quite the contrast in mood from last night, Harry and Ron going from grinning and laughing as if they had just won the Quidditch World Cup, to them not wanting to be seen was quite the turnaround, it all started going downhill during breakfast in the Great Hall. The four long house tables were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast, and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted ceiling. Harry and Ron sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione and Y/N, she had her copy of Voyages with Vampires propped open against a milk jug. There was a slight stiffness in the way she said 'Morning,' which showed that she was still disapproving of the way they had arrived. 

"Come off it, Hermione, It's not like you're in trouble too." said Y/N, who hid himself when she shot him a glare.

Neville cheerily greeted them as he sat down at the table. 

"Mail's due any minute — I think Gran's sending a few things I forgot."

Y/N had only just started his porridge when, sure enough, there was a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so owls streamed in, circling the hall and dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd. A big, lumpy package bounced off Neville's head and, a second later, something large and gray fell into Hermione's jug, spraying them all with milk and feathers. 

"Errol!" said Ron, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Errol slumped, Unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his beak.

"Oh, no —" Ron gasped.

"It's all right, he's still alive," said Hermione, prodding Errol gently with the tip of her finger.

"No one's really worried about Errol, Hermione, it's the howler the blokes just gotten." Y/N said, his face breaking into a wide smile.

"What's a howler?" said Harry.

"Don't ask questions, Harry, just wait and see." Y/N said expectantly.

"It's not funny!" said Ron.

"After what you've done, I think it'll be a wake up call, won't it?"

"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville in a timid whisper. "It'll be worse if you don't. My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and"— he gulped —"it was horrible."

 Ron stretched out a shaking hand, eased the envelope from Errol's beak, and slit it open. Neville stuffed his fingers in his ears. Y/N was nearly out of his seat with excitement.

"—STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE —"

Mrs. Weasleys yells, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls. People throughout the hall were swiveling around to see who had received the Howler, and Ron sank so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead could be seen. 

"—LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED —"

"—ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED — YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

A ringing silence fell. The red envelope, which had dropped from Ron's hand, burst into flames and curled into ashes. Harry and Ron sat stunned. A few people laughed and, gradually, a babble of talk broke out again.  

"That was good, to be honest I expected much worse." Y/N said, wiping tears from his eyes.

Hermione closed Voyages with Vampires and looked down at the top of Ron's head. 

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