Delicate - eng version

Happy Birthday, Rosie

"Line up, Weasleys!" Grandad commands, "And Potters, of course," he adds, looking at James, Al and Lily, "And erm, Mark and Scorpius."

He has us all lined up in the yard of The Burrow, ten minutes before we're due to leave for the airport. Tensions are running high. James has packed armbands in his hand luggage should the plane crash into the sea.

"Ron!" Grandad demands, "Get in line!"

"But Dad –"

"Now!"

Dad joins the line looking very disgruntled that even at forty-three, his father can still boss him around. Nana Molly has already been made line up beside her grandchildren and is looking very fed up.

"Okay Weasleys – er, and Potters and Scorpius and Mark – I must lay down some ground rules," he walks along the line, slapping his wand against the palm of his hand, as if he's an army commandant and we're his soldiers, "In a few minutes, we will be leaving for the airport. Therefore, I must ask you not to refer to magic at all. We will be amongst Muggles and must not arouse suspicions. Is that clear?"

There are a few weak 'yeah's and 'alright's, but then Grandad frowns.

"I said, is that clear?!" he barks.

"Yes Grandad," we all chime, while Nana Molly and Dad look at each other, annoyed, and Scorpius and Mark look a bit uncomfortable. Trust Grandad to act like a total lunatic while we have company.

"Secondly, we are to stay together! We are not to lose each other! Okay?"

"Yes Grandad."

"Arthur, is this really necessary?" Nana Molly sighs.

"Indeed it is, Molly! This trip must go off without a hitch! Now the bus should be leaving in about a half an hour, I feel it's best if we sit in alphabetical order..."

"You must be joking," James scoffs, "Have you completely lost it, Grandad?"

Before Grandad has the chance to reply, there's a loud pop and Uncle Charlie appears in the garden.

"Sorry I'm late," he grins, clearly unfazed by the fact that Grandad is glaring at him angrily, "Got held up at work." Uncle Charlie has been working in Wales for a few weeks instead of Romania, so he's decided to fly to France with us too.

"You've missed the rules –"

"They're the same as always I'm presuming?" Charlie sighs, "No magic around Muggles and keep together? I'm fifty years old, Dad, I'm not a kid anymore."

We have to walk to the edge of town to get the bus, as a Muggle bus driver wouldn't have a clue where Ottery St Catchpole is – it's a magical town after all. We probably look so stupid, all seventeen of us, walking through the Muggle countryside. When we reach the bus stop, so many people are staring at us, wondering what's going on. We should have t-shirts reading 'Weasley Family Holiday!' because we really can't get more pathetic.

I end up sitting alone on the way to the airport, even though Dad offered to sit next to me. I told him to sit with Charlie. Al and Scorpius, James and Fred, Molly and Lucy, Dom and Mark, Roxie and Louis, Hugo and Lily and Nana and Grandad all sit together and I am left by myself in a seat at the back of the bus. I think I prefer it this way.

I'm so relieved by the time we reach Heathrow airport – Grandad has started singing that song "Everywhere we go-o (everywhere we go-o), people always ask us (people always ask us), who we a-are" etcetera...it's quite embarrassing, even though there's no one else on the bus except for us. And the poor bus driver, of course.