The Weasley children had found a new family member, and Ginny gets to name it.
the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.
"Mommy! Wonny won't gimme back my tootool!" Ginny's little voice whined up the stairs.
Molly leaned over the rails, "Your what?"
"My new tootool" The four-year-old girl hated when no one understood her.
"I don't understand, Your tootool?" Molly started to descend the stairs.
"My new tootool." Ginny stomped her feet. "Wonny took him and not gim him back."
"Mom, she's talking about our new turtle that we found at the pond." Said Fred, trying to be helpful.
"Yeah, but we found him. Can we keep it?" George was nearly bouncing on his toes in hope.
"Why do you need a turtle? No, never mind, forget I asked. No. You do not need a turtle." She answered her twins. It didn't take much to remember the garden gnome the twins had tried to adopt that spring. Norland the Gnome was not too pleased with the shirt and trousers they tried to put on him. What would the seven-year olds do with a turtle?
"Oh, Mom!" We'll keep him outside." Fred pleaded.
"We just want to study him." George begged.
She took a deep breath, "Fine. Ronny, you can hold it for 3 more minutes, Ginny, you can hold it for 5 minutes, then you two can take it back to the pond and study it. Do not bring it inside, and do not disturb Percy with it. Understood?"
It took her only a second to realize her mistake. Percy was reading in the shade by the pond. Just the perfect target for a turtle attack. "Do not go near Percy. Do not allow the turtle to get near Percy. Do not speak to or even point that creature in the general direction of Percy. Agreed?"
The two carbon copies looked at each other, weighing the options available. As one, they turned back to their mother, "Agreed!" They held out their hands for Molly to shake. She was left wondering if she had left a loophole or two out of her contract. But she didn't have time to think on it. With the two oldest off at Hogwarts she didn't have the help she needed. Aunt Muriel will arrive tonight to talk about the loan.
The evening with Aunt Muriel went fine, which made Molly a bit nervous. In her household, fine meant something was in the planning stage. Muriel waited almost patiently for Molly to get the children settled in bed, before she went off on a long-winded, and quite boring story about her cousin and his penchant for gambling.
"…So really, it was quite serendipitous, after all." She finished up.
"What's saree dipipitoes?" A little four-year-old, with red braids had snuck behind the sofa and was listening to every word, Unlike Arthur, who had fallen asleep in his chair an hour ago.
"Really Genevra, why are you still up? Children should be be in bed at this hour." The old lady looked offended that a child would actually have free reign in her own house.
"I think you asked about the word serendipitous, right?" Molly asked her daughter. She pulled Ginny onto her lap and wrapped her tight in Ginny's blankie. "Serendipity means that things have worked out in a happy way."
Ginny nodded, and tried to say the long, hard word. Molly encouraged her until she finally got it right. Muriel huffed and muttered but to Molly, answering a child's question is more important than pacifying an old woman. The word was said correctly several times before Ginny slipped off her mother's knee and padded up to her room. Molly thought that was a good excuse to push Muriel off her room (Actually Ron's room, who had to sleep with Percy that night.)
Molly always got up extra early to get breakfast started, and just to take in the beautiful sunrise. It was her quiet time. Her one hour of peace before the hordes stampeded down the stairs. But her silence was marred by voices in the garden.
" Well, if it were me, I would do whatever it takes to find my turtle." She heard George.
"Good luck with that, because it clearly doesn't like you." Fred retorted.
"You would know." George snapped back.
The two stopped their search when they saw their mom standing in the doorway.
"Why are you looking for the turtle?" she asked, not really caring for the answer. Sometimes it was best not to know what those two were up to.
"Nothing, really Mum. We made a little box and put it in there, right by the pond. This morning, it's not there.
With a smile, she just shrugged her shoulders. "Too bad. How about you two collect the eggs, and I'll fix eggy bread for breakfast." They ran off, anything for their favorite, especially for the raspberry syrup that Mum poured over it.
Again, it was Muriel who was late, and the kids were getting edgy. They hated to wait for food at any time. But breakfast was a must. The world ended if they didn't eat right on schedule. When the old lady deigned to come down, the food was cooled, and Arthur had to go off to work before eating.
But soon, French toast was being doled out with Molly helping Ronny and Ginny. Syrup was being passed around when the whole table stopped, frozen at the blood curdling scream that issued from Aunt Muriel.
"WHAT IS THAT? AAAAAAAH!" She was pointing to the center of the table, where a very content turtle was standing on the platter, casually munching on a piece of French toast. Ginny, who was nearest, stood on her chair, picked up the syrup pitcher and casually poured it over the reptile. She giggled with glee, while Molly rushed to whip out her wand to siphon off the sweet gooey liquid.
Before Molly could reprimand her daughter, Muriel had stood and stormed out of the room. Within a minute, she was back, with her bag packed. "Molly Weasley! I have decided not to stay. No, my mind is made. I just… I have never…. Tell Arthur to owl me later If you don't mind." Then she stormed to the floo and left in a green blaze.
Ginny reached over and clutched the still-sticky turtle closely. "Mine!"
Fred and George exchanged looks of admiration, "Yep, you earned him." One said.
The other added, "So what are you going to name him?"
Ginny hugged the turtle tight, "Him name is Serendipity Syrup."
And that was the story of how Ginny adopted a four-inch turtle and gave it a gooey sweet name.
P.S. The turtle still lives in the garden, and still has a preference for Molly's eggy bread.