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She watched as the small red haired girl sat playing on the floor nearby. The curly wilderness of her hair, the bold ginger color and the texture, embodied the personality of the small human that it crowned. And it wasn’t just that her hair was wild and bold, it was also a suggestion of the very nature that took up residence in this tiny human vessel. Smart, daring, methodical, loving indoor times with books as much as outdoor rambles around her grandparents rural home. This little person could think outside the box but she could also get mired down by her own sense of structure. If there were rules, they must be followed, and if there were no rules, her creativity and daring knew no bounds.
Like her hair, she was part her mother, part her father in both the physical sense and in her very essence. Yet she was also somehow her very own. Not more or less than her parents. Just a small step to either side.
It shouldn’t have surprised Hermione then when her five year old Rose announced that morning that she would ride a muggle bicycle before her sixth birthday in August which was the following week. Broomsticks were expected of course, and all of the older cousins were already zooming around the Burrow pitch playing little games of quidditch all summer long, while the little ones watched and waited for their time to learn. It really should not have surprised her in the least after the many hours Rose spent with her grandfather in his shed of Muggle artifacts that, the rusty old Schwin with layers of dust and cobwebs would catch the imagination of her small daughter. Rose had even asked her mother about muggle bicycles and what it felt like to ride one. Hermione as it turned out, didn’t have much experience on the topic as she had never learnt, nor did Rose’s Uncle Harry unfortunately. Dudley Dursley once had the latest in mountain sport bicycles but Harry was forbidden to give it a go. Nevertheless, Rose spent countless moments inspecting the rusty old thing. Puzzling over the gears and levers and imagining out what she might put in the worn straw basket at the front should she ever figure out how to ride it. Rose also tried to get her best friend and cousin, Albus, to catch her enthusiasm about this object in Grandpa’s shed. But alas, Albus was focused on his time to learn to ride a broomstick and a time where James would no longer be able to tease him about being a baby as he and Fred flew away laughing on their brooms with quaffles tucked under their arms.
So despite her surprise, and despite the fact that there was not one person in their family that had the ability to teach little Rose to ride a bike, Hermione did the one thing she did know how to do. She borrowed a book on bicycle riding, one on bicycle care, and the history of the bicycle for good measure from the closest Muggle Library. That night, she lay in bed and considered all the information she gathered and read deep into the night while Ron snored deeply on the other side of the bed. As she read, a little seed rooted its way into her great mind and she became determined that if this was to be Rose’s “thing”, she would help her make it happen. But she needed help from her husband and she was concerned that he might look askance at this little project for Rose due to his own bewilderment when it came to Muggle objects.
The next morning over piping hot tea and fresh scones that Ron delivered to her study on a tray, Hermione broached the bicycle subject with her husband. Really, if she thought about it, it shouldn’t have surprised her in the least that Ron did not look askance at her plan. No, quite the opposite indeed. Because Rose was his pride and joy. A precocious and brave girl with hair curled like her mother’s around her sweet face and brains to boot. He would do anything for his kind and curious daughter. Even the things he didn’t quite understand. As they sat their and ate their scones, and drank their tea, Ron and Hermione fleshed out the details of their plan. Wee Hugo toddled in and his mother pulled him up on her lap as she wrote out schedules, parts lists, and a rough map of the garden and the meadow that sloped down to the Burrow Pond, Ron interjecting with suggestions for additions as he thumbed through the borrowed Muggle books. Hermione kissed the top of her small boy’s head and told him, “Rose is going to ride a bike! But shhhh, it is a surprise!” Hugo smiled back.
As he watched his tiny, wild ginger haired, girl traipse out of his kitchen with a bacon sandwich clutched in her hand for her walk over to The Potter’s house just a few steps down the lane, he felt the stirrings of excitement over what he and Hermione had discussed in her study the day before. Of course he had always imagined teaching Rose to ride on her first broomstick, and surely he still would, but it really should not have surprised him in the least that Rose had become entranced with the very idea of riding a muggle bicycle. She was her mother’s daughter after all and that meant a healthy dose of fierce determination along with an inquisitive mind that came with a “beginning to end” sort of follow through for a complete knowledge of a subject that caught her imagination. Last summer, it was the many insects that made their home in the countryside just outside of Godric’s Hollow where the Weasleys lived. At age four, his bright girl spent ages with beautifully illustrated books on insects of the West Country that she had taken from her mother’s library, chasing the creatures through the garden, catching them, identifying them by the picture , and then releasing them back into the hedgerows near the lane, with Albus gleefully shrieking in her wake and enjoying the game of it. The whole family remarked about her cleverness to so accurately identify each insect from a book with an impossibly large amount of pages, at such a young age. Ron felt fit to burst with pride as he and Harry sat on the small terrace sipping cold pints and observing the children’s play. Harry threw his head back and laughed each time tiny Rose scrambled up in his lap and thrust some sort of bug up under his nose to see. “Look Uncle Harry! I found a 22 spot ladybird! I know because I counted the spots” she would squeal as she opened up her chubby fist to reveal a bright yellow beetle with the correct amount of counted spots. Harry always had a soft spot for his little niece and praised and reveled in the little quirks and traits that reminded him so much of his two best friends. As Ron stood in the kitchen and thought of these things, he knew he could count on Harry to help with the bicycle plan.
A short time after Rose went to the Potters to play with Albus, Harry apparated into Ron’s kitchen. Ron eagerly explained about the rusty bicycle in the shed at the Burrow, the books from the library, and Hermione’s notebook of “bicycle command central” as he poured Harry a steaming cup of tea. Upon hearing, Harry threw his head back a laughed once again and quickly agreed to be of assistance. Ron picked up the borrowed book on bicycle care and maintenance and after shouting up the stairs to Hermione, the two friends flooed straight to the Burrow to begin.
Upon their floo arrival and after brushing off the excess floo powder from their clothes, Ron and Harry came face to face with the back of Arthur Wesley’s newspaper as he sat in his usual chair and read. The commotion of the floo did little to deter him from his perusing of the Daily Prophet and Ron had to reach over and rattle the pages to get his father’s attention. “Dad! I need that bicycle in your shed!”, he said eagerly. Without even knowing why Ron needed the creeky old bike out in his shed, Arthur’s eyes lit up at the mere prospect of some sort of interest in his collection. “Bicycle? You mean that thing with the two wheels that Rosie has been tinkering with lately? Whatever for?”, said Arthur as he rubbed his hands together. “Rose has decided she wants to ride it and we want to help her,” Ron explained as Arthur hummed his understanding and barreled out of the door, the summer screen squeaking and slamming behind him.
When the three men reached the shed, it took some doing to extricate the bicycle from the depths of old toasters, fellytones, record players, and microwave ovens shoved in every available space. When they managed to get to it, they saw the signs of little Rosie’s study of the thing. Small childlike drawings of gears and handlebars, the rusted chain half laying on the dirt floor where she had attempted to remove it, the basket filled with browning flowers she had picked along the far fence of the meadow. Harry busied himself with gathering the trinkets left behind by Rose while Arthur and Ron began to carry the heavy old bike out of the shed. Once outside, Ron pulled the book he had brought out of his pocket and conjured a tall bench to lay it on. Hermione had carefully marked the most important pages with sticky little parchment tabs to keep Ron going in the proper order and so that he would stay somewhat organized. Each man scourgified the rust from different parts of the bicycle until the silver metal parts gleamed in the sunlight peaking through the trees that shaded the shed. Harry conjured yellow and black paints and some brushes and suggested a “22 spot ladybird” themed paint job for the frame of the bicycle and seat. They set to work in a muggle fashion with Harry and Ron painting the yellow base and Arthur coming in behind them with black dabs for the spots. When they finished, they admired their handiwork and then famished, made their way back into the Burrow for one of Molly’s delicious lunches.
As Hermione drifted off to sleep the night after she and Ron had made their plans in her study, she smiled to herself. She really should have known that Ron would embrace this project for his Rose. If Hermione was honest, this was when she loved
Ron the very best. The times that his love for his children lit up his eyes and every fiber of his being radiated his willingness to offer them the world. Never was he more handsome and beloved by her than when he was being a father. That’s not say she didn’t find him devastatingly handsome when he hovered over her, sweaty on a broomstick after a two-a-side quidditch game with Harry, Ginny, and George with that sideways grin that still caught her breath. She smiled still as she imagined the look on Ron’s face as he watched the look on Rose’s face when the surprise of the ready to ride bicycle was to be revealed.
The next morning she kissed Ron good morning and took the muffin he offered her as she turned on her heel and apparated into Harry and Ginny’s kitchen. Ginny was finishing up a considerable amount of washing up from her brood’s breakfast while Harry took a floo call from the office in his study. As Ginny set the dishes to clean with charms over the sink, Hermione explained her mission. Ginny grinned and said, “Oh yes, the bicycle. I’ve heard little else from her when she has been over this last week. In fact I’ve heard it from Albus because he’s been moaning that Rose won’t play when they are at the Burrow because of that stupid “sikebickle”. I think he doesn’t like being left to be third wheel to James and Freddie”. Hermione chuckled and filed away a notion to add pegs for Albus to stand on while Rose pedaled once Rose had mastered the process.
She amused herself for a few minutes imagining two small heads, one with fiery red curls and the other black with hair that would just not lay flat, flying down the lane that connected the Burrow to the village of Ottery St. Catchpole as she and the others strolled behind watching.
Hermione explained her plan to go into Muggle London to procure some parts from a bicycle shop she had found using her Muggle mobile phone. It was a short walk from Diagon Alley so it would be convenient for apparating and carrying the bags and parcels home. Ginny, always a fan of shops on London of any sort, willingly agreed to come along. Harry had sent some photos of the old bike through his Muggle mobile phone (because of course Ron could never be bothered with such a thing) so that the shop clerk could help Hermione and Ginny select what they needed. Ginny sent a quick owl to Bill and Fleur’s asking for Vic to watch the children for the morning. When Vic arrived, the younger children crowded around her and peppered her silvery blond head with kisses and hugs. In all the commotion of greeting their older cousin, none of the children thought to ask Hermione and Ginny where they were going.
Hermione and Ginny flooed into the Leaky Cauldron and said a quick hello and a quick chat with Hannah Abbot on their way through to Muggle London. Hermione knew the second that she laid eyes on the shop that she had chosen well. Rows and rows of vintage bicycles hung from hooks on the ceiling and even more lined the perimeter of the shop. Showing the photos on her mobile to the clerk, he quickly gathered a new chain, a shifter, a new brake and he threw in a handlebar bell for the little girl who was so determined to ride a bicycle. Along with a few other odds and ends, some tyres with white walls, and a muggle tool or two that didn’t have a wizarding equivalent, Hermione and Ginny thanked the shop clerk and carried their haul back to Diagon Alley to floo over to the Burrow.
When the two women arrived, Arthur, Ron, and Harry had just sat down for lunch. Hermione and Ginny joined them and Molly (who had of course made more than enough food) and Hermione and Ginny began to show them the items they brought from London as they ate. Hermione noticed that Arthur’s eyes lingered over each Muggle item with excitement that was palpable. She smirked to herself as Ron puzzled over the bell and once he sorted out how it worked, drove everyone batty brrrng brrnging through the remainder of lunch.
After lunch, the group, aside from Molly, made their way back to the shed where Ginny laughed until she cried over the “darling” paint job and as she called Harry a “sop” when it came to the little girls of the family. They all agreed that Rose would adore it. They began to attempt to repair the bike using the directions from the book Ron had brought. The process quickly devolved into the sort of chaos that happens when there are too many cooks in the kitchen and Hermione engaged Ron in one of their loud bickering matches. Harry spent a great deal of time looking at his shoes as he was wont to do in these moments but Ginny managed to convince Hermione to let Arthur take the lead while they retreated to the house for something cold to drink. Hermione supposed that even Arthur had a better grasp on repairing Muggle things than she did, so she agreed and retreated to the burrow while soothing her feelings by muttering about her thick headed husband.
Hermione sat with her cold glass of lemonade on the Burrow’s small porch with Ginny and Molly as they observed the three men fussing over the bicycle down by the shed. Suddenly Molly stood with her hand to her mouth as if she remembered something important. She excused herself so quickly she stumbled over her knitting basket leaving a bewildered Hermione and Ginny to exchange amused glances at one another. When Molly returned, she was holding three misshapen parcels wrapped on paper which she thrust at her daughter and daughter-in-law. Hermione carefully unwrapped the parcel in her lap to find an old 1970s style bicycle helmet and Ginny had opened hers to reveal the same. “These belonged to Fabian and Gideon,” she exclaimed. I forgot they had a bicycle for two when we were growing up! They charmed it to fly and it made our mother crazy!” The helmets were too large and had several dents but Hermione knew she could fix them and charm them to fit Rose and Albus. She thanked Molly for remembering such an important item and all three women were happy to see something from the Prewett twins was to be used again. The third package contained some yellow ribbons that Molly thought would look nice on the handlebars. Hermione chuckled as she allowed herself another moment to imagine two happy small children with helmets on and streamers flying as they would speed past.
After much swearing, and many colorful diatribes on Ron’s part, he, Harry and Arthur had managed to place the new items on the cleaned up bicycle and everything seemed to work. When Ron cranked the pedals with his hand, the wheels, which Harry had filled with air from his wand, turned. When Ron would grasp the brake on the handlebar, the wheels would stop. It was at this moment he realized that someone would have to attempt to ride it just to be sure it was safe for Rose to try. Ron experienced a little pang of terror at the notion. If he couldn’t manage it, how could Rose? When he voiced his fear to Harry, Harry guffawed and slapped Ron on the back and said, “Better you than me mate!”
Ron resignedly pushed the bicycle up the slope that lead down to the Burrow’s pond with his father and friend trailing behind, both of whom were smothering the wide grins that threatened to overtake their faces. As Ron reached the top of the slope a flurry of noise came from the direction of the house as Hermione, Molly, and Ginny realized what was about to happen and began to make their way towards the men while shouting for Ron to stop. Ron couldn’t quite make out what they were saying but he imagined it was along the lines of Hermione saying, “Ron Weasley don’t you dare”, Ginny saying, “Ron, you bloody dolt, NO!”, and his mother saying, “Ronald Bilius Weasley don’t you even THINK about getting on that thing!” Taking their objections as a challenge, Ron quickly mounted the bicycle and put his feet on the pedals. As he began to careen down the slope, he was glad to find that years of riding a broomstick gave him enough sense of balance to stay upright. He let out a great bark of a laugh as he pedaled but then, he realized he was going faster and faster as the tall grass of the slope on either side of him began to blur. He became befuddled by the adrenaline that had begun to course through his veins and he all but forgot about the brake lever on the handle that was meant to slow him down. He took his large feet off the pedals in a futile effort to slow himself and as his feet began to drag on the ground, the bicycle lurched from side to side threatening to throw him right off all together. In the end, he was stopped by the murky waters of the pond as he collided with a log and the bicycle stayed stationary as Ron flew through the air. Ron sat in the mud for a few moments to gather himself before he stood up to face the small group at the top of the slope. Harry was on the ground clutching his sides with laughter. Arthur was turned away with his hand over his mouth trying to stifle his giggling. Ginny was shouting what an “Utter bleeding Idgit” he was while Hermione and his mother assumed the position of two women most seriously displeased. Hands on hips, mouths pressed into straight lines.
Ron slogged his way over to the yellow spotted muggle machine that had nearly ended his life and inspected it to see if there was any damage. Finding that the bicycle was quite alright aside from a now seriously crushed basket, some mud splattered along the sides and some weeds wedged in the spokes of the wheels, Ron began to push it back up the slope towards his family. As he reached them, Hermione launched into a diatribe about starting on a flat surface and graduating to a hill and that was why she had mapped everything out so carefully in her notebook if he had just bothered to *read* it or ask her to begin with. Ron sheepishly handed over the bicycle so that his irate wife could scourgify it and him and repair the basket (she had always been a whiz at “repair”) while Molly hustled everyone back into the burrow for tea.
Just as they arrived back at the house, George, his wife Angelina, and their children Freddie and Roxanne appeared at the floo. George also laughed until he cried as Harry acted out Ron’s descent down the slope and into the pond. Freddie’s eyes grew wide as he walked around Rose’s bicycle and when his mother saw, she clamped a hand hard on his shoulder as she said, “Don’t even think about it Freddie” through her bared teeth. Ginny laughed and imagined she would have to say the same to James. As Molly prepared tea, the rest of the family was owled and soon they all filed into the burrow. Bill and Fleur with Dominique and Louis, and Percy with his wife Audrey and their girls Molly and Lucy. Victoire brought up the rear with James, Albus, Rose, Hugo and little Lily in tow. After a raucous and lively tea where the adults quietly passed along the news of the days events and the surprise waiting outside for Rose. Hermione shot Ron a meaningful look and he stood up, clasped his hands together and asked everyone to follow him outside.
The usual jumble of sound, shoving, running, and bickering accompanied the entire Weasley and Potter family as they filed out to the garden. They gathered to Ron and George sharply whistled with his two fingers to get everyone to settle down. It didn’t quite work so Ginny hollered, “SHUT IT!” in her best quidditch captain voice and the family immediately quieted. Ron and Hermione stood at the front of the crowd with the bicycle at their back. “Rose”, Hermione called, “Your father and I have an early birthday surprise for you”. Rose stepped forward as Hermione and Ron moved apart and revealed the bicycle that has so caught the little girl’s imagination. Rose looked back and forth between her parents, disbelief in her eyes. “Is that mine?”, she asked tentatively. Her parents nodded. “Is it really?”, she asked in a reverent whisper. “Yes love, we fixed it up for you”, explained Ron. Rose ran her hands over the bicycle like it was the most precious thing she had ever touched while Ron watched her with complete adoration. Hermione watched Ron’s love for Rose radiating from his face and her heart practically ached with the joy it all gave her. While Rose admired her new bicycle, Aunt Ginny brought out the helmets that had belonged to Fabian and Gideon and Grandma Molly tied the new yellow ribbon streamers to the handlebars. Rose’s cousins began to jostle forth with James, Louis, and Freddie exclaiming, “Wicked!”, while Vic and Dom told her how lovely it looked. Albus beamed from ear to ear seeing his favorite cousin receive such a gift. Rose informed them all that it was painted just like a 22 spot ladybird and Harry told her that he counted the spots that Grandpa Arthur had made himself.
Rose launched herself onto the seat and tried to reach the pedals with her little legs. Disappointment over took her sweet little face just before her Uncle Bill stepped forward and used a shrinking charm to make it just her size. Ron carefully held the back of the seat as Hermione hovered close by. Rose began to pedal slowly and Ron kept her from wobbling too much as he walked along with her, hand still on the seat. Hermione watched with her hand to her mouth as her husband guided their daughter around the flat areas of the garden and meadow.
By the following week, on Rose’s birthday, Rose was riding the muggle bicycle like she had been doing it her whole life. She and Hermione had poured over the borrowed library books and Rose learned every part and all about how bicycles were invented. Of course there had been some scraped knees and short-lived tears. As she flew by on her bicycle one day after supper, Ron shouted to her, “How does it feel?” and Rose shouted back “It feels like freedom!” Once again Harry threw his head back and laughed at his precocious little niece. Soon the bicycle was outfitted with pegs on the back for Albus (and occasionally one of the other cousins) to hitch a ride. The rest of the summer was filled with the sounds of rowdy children being ridden down the slope of the meadow and launched into the Burrow pond by their little wild haired cousin (on purpose) and rides into Godric’s Hollow for ice cream with Albus as the grown ups followed slowly behind.