Disclaimer: Everything down here belongs to either JKR (whose brilliance even surpasses her inventions' -- and that saying a lot) or Bill or greek mythology. All I own is the Luscious Ladies' Library, but I shouldn't have told you that.
Hogwarts, a Mystery
" Absolutely not. "
" But Madam Pomfrey – "
" No. "
" He's our brother! "
" I said NO. "
" Please? "
" No. "
" Oh, come on, we'll take care of everything… "
" You can go rest a bit… "
" Maybe read something from Luscious Ladies' Library for Naughty Nuns and Nurses. "
" What! How did you – "
" We like to keep our resources privet, Madam Pomfrey. "
" We're very good at privacy. "
" So if you'd be kind enough to let us in, we'd gladly – "
" Oh, FINE. You get ten minutes. "
Ah, blackmail. Fast and effective. Even better than the puppy dog eyes – George's specialty. We have to remember to thank Bill's current girlfriend, Trish for that valuable piece of information – working at a run-down bookstore has its advantages. The Luscious Cerberus finally leaves the room, slamming the door behind her. We're left alone. Now I feel slightly less self-confident, and George is kind of pale. Nobody was willing to tell us how badly is Ron hurt, or what exactly happened to him. All McGonagall said was that he'd received 'a hard blow on the head'. She was shaking and seemed more upset than the time we lost the Quidditch Cup to Slytherin last year. George looks like he wants to get back to the Common Room, and I
have half a mind to go out and forget about everything that doesn't involve Quidditch. But then, we can't back up now that we're here… Ron's bed is in the far corner. I drag myself beside it, George following reluctantly.
Ron's lying on his back, eyes closed. He's sickly pale, like Percy was when the Healer Vanished his tonsils. There's a large, purple bruise across his forehead and his nose seems swollen. He looks – not very healthy. George runs his hand through his hair. I bite my lip. It's decided: we're going straight to McGonagall, and we're not leaving her side until she gives us some direct answers. I turn to leave the room when a disgruntled voice comes from behind:
" He's just sleeping, you know. "
It's the bushy haired prefect-to-be, Hermione. She's lying tucked in a bed next to Ron's. We didn't notice her before. And if she's here, then it's likely that - yep, it's him. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, snoring on a bed opposite The Girl Who Is Scowling.
" Can you tell us how Ron ended up in a hospital? " George inquires cautiously.
" Why should I? "
" Because we want to know. " I know my ears are getting red, but I can't help him.
" Why? You weren't too interested in him when he was lying here a few months ago with blood poisoning. "
" Blood poisoning? We thought he was bitten by a dog! "
" Did you? "
I feel slightly uncomfortable. Fang is the only dog at Hogwarts, and he wouldn't hurt a Flobberworm. We never visited Ron because… it wasn't any of our business. After all, he was part of the Dream Team by then – possibly the only group of people Snape hates more than us. And at that time no-one really wanted to have a lot of interaction with the Dream Team.
" Could you please tell us what happened to our brother? " George asks calmly.
" Fine. First he narrowly avoided being eaten by a giant three headed dog. Then he was nearly strangled by the Devil's Snare. After that he saved the Wizarding World by winning a giant chess match, which ended with him being clobbered by the white Queen. Oh, and he fell of hiss broom when I was trying to get Dumbledore – that's probably when he broke his nose. "
Her voice was getting increasingly louder – became practically hysterical near the end. I never knew it's possible to talk so much without drawing breath. Or to take sarcasm to such a ridiculous level. George and I are now waiting for an almightyemotional outburst – experience with Mum taught us that women can't shout with sarcastic fury without bursting to tears sooner or later.
However, it seems Hermione doesn't intend to cry. She's watching us in a way that reminds me of Hermes before Percy taught him the difference between dinner and Scabbers. After a minute passes in silent glaring, I finally clear my throat.
" You don't really expect us to believe that, do you? "
" It's the truth. I don't care if you believe it or not. "
So there are two possibilities: she's either really good at lying or she honestly believes our baby brother saved the world by playing chess. Not to be chauvinistic, but Ginny is the only female I know to have a gift in the Art of Deceit. Consequently…
" And how, exactly, did he manage to do all that? " I ask loudly and clearly, because I know the Baffling Charm can affect the victim's hearing.
" Simple. We went behind the door on the third floor corridor. "
The Door. One of the better-left-untouched mysteries of Hogwarts. Dumbledore's words ring in my ears: 'a harsh and painful death'. Is he crazy enough to keep something truly lethal in the castle? Stupid question – of course he is. We saw him buying five pounds of Cockroach Clusters in Hogsmeade. Maybe Hermione isn't Baffled after all. But then –
" Some explanation would be truly appreciated. " George says tensely now. His knuckles are completely white – a sure sign of nervousness.
" I thought we weren't on speaking terms. "
Damn it. This isn't a time for petty grudges. And she's supposed to be all mature and rational.
" Look, we're sorry we were ignoring you. " George mutters tersely. " And that we didn't listen when you told us we'd get in trouble for plundering the kitchen. And that we called you a flashy Percette-in-training behind your back. " – maybe he shouldn't have told her that.
" So we're sorry, okay? " I cut in.
" No. "
" No? "
" No. "
" Why the hexing hell not? "
" Because it isn't me you should be apologizing to. It's Ron – and especially Harry. "
" If you haven't noticed, neither of them is capable of conversation right now. So are you going to explain or not? "
She doesn't answer. I've had enough of this – I head towards the door of the infirmary. If she isn't telling anything, McGonagall will. We'll force the truth out of her, by any means necessary (we don't have too much blackmail material on her, but you can always make things up: false news are usually completely accepted by general public).
As I reach for the doorknob, with a furious George on my side, Hermione sighs heavily and murmurs:
" Oh, fine. Ill tell you what happened, and then you decide if you believe me or not. "
We return to her end of the room, and grab one of the straight-backed hospital chairs. George keeps shooting me looks of admiration. He thinks I was faking the leaving just to get her to talk. I know I'm blushing slightly – bluffing didn't even cross my mind.
"Well, it all started when we were serving detention in the Forest – no, before that, back in autumn, when Malfoy invited Harry for that false Wizards' Duel. Ron, Harry, Neville and I got stuck in the corridors after hours, we were trying to get away from Filch. We had to hide somewhere and we ended up in the room on the third floor. "
" So, what's in there? "
" A giant, three headed dog. Probably some subspecies of the Hades's Hound. It's name is Fluffy. "
" Fluffy! Who'd name a three headed dog Fluffy? " I ask confusedly.
" Who'd keep something like that in the castle, anyway? " my twin adds.
She gives us Percy's patented you-are-complete-idiots-and-I-don't-know-why-I-even-bother-with-you-looks (although I think Perce ripped it off of Snape).
" Hagrid christened it. And Dumbledore brought it to the castle so it could guard the Stone. "
" The Stone? "
" Yes. I assume you don't know anything about the Sorcerer's Stone, do you? "
I shake my head, but George frowns (somehow, he must've paid attention when a professor mentioned it).
" A kind of Potion, isn't it? Makes the drinker immortal or something. "
" Well, almost. It forestalls death for a considerable time. Plus, it can turn any metal into gold. It was made in South America by a group of alchemists, but we don't know what happened to them – except Nicholas Flamel, who turned sixhundred-something this year. Flamel knows Professor Dumbledore – they used to work together – and he asked him to guard the Stone in Hogwarts. He wasn't sure he could protect it by himself. "
" But why? " to me it doesn't make sense. " I mean if he's six hundred, and Dumbledore's at least a hundred and fifty, why didn't he send it to Hogwarts sooner? I'm sure lots of people wanted to take it years before, and if he could protect it earlier, why not now? "
She looks at me approvingly.
" I wondered about that, too. Flamels wife, Perenelle is rumored to be a Seer, so I guess she must've made a Prophecy about the Stone being in danger. There's no other way they could've known that the Dark Lord was after it. "
" WHAT? You mean – You-Know-Who? "
" Yes. "
" But- but he's dead. "
" No, he's not. Or at least he wasn't. Harry saw him in the Forest when we were doing detention. "
I look at George. He's biting his nails now, very white. I try to think rationally. After all, Harry and the others – they're only first years. The Forest is scary, and it makes you feel there's a monster around every corner. A ghosts or a centaur or even a shadow can frighten you out of your wits. And nobody likes to admit they were scared – easier to tell your friends you really saw a horrible monster. And with Harry, telling people he escaped from You-Know-Who again would be a great way of getting back his popularity (he obviously misses it horribly).
Hermione must've seen my skepticism, because she sneers:
" If you don't want to believe me, you can go down to the Forest and ask for a centaur named Firenze. He'll tell you exactly what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was doing here, and why he wants the Stone. "
McGonalgalls heir practically telling us to go and break the rules. This isn't right. Damn it. I sigh and shake my head, in sign of surrender. She smiles ruefully, but then her face turns grave.
" Ten years ago, when the curse doubled back on You-Know-Who, it didn't kill him completely. It just took away his powers. At least, Hagrid says so and I believe him. Anyway, the Dark Lord's ghost or spirit or whatever fled the country. But this year it returned. Someone was helping it from the castle – we thought it was Snape but I'm not so sure anymore – and it got its life back by drinking unicorn blood. And if that person would have taken the Stone, You-Know-Who's powers would have returned fully. "
" And he'd never die. " George whispers in horror. " If he had the Stone, he'd be invincible. He could wipe out half the world and nobody could stop him. "
I feel my heart beating fiercely. We've heard enough stories about the first war – I know how terrible You-Know-Who's reign was with the Muggle killings and the torture and Mum's brothers dying. Noone should let that happen again.
" And? What did you do? Did you tell Dumbledore? "
" I'm sure he already knew. So we decided it's best not to try anything by ourselves. We knew Snape couldn't get past Fluffy and Quirells trap. Anyway we didn't want to spoil the small remaining chance Gryffindor had of winning the Cup. "
The Cup. Slytherin will be the winner – always is. Mainly because of Snape, but then—
" So you're saying Snape wanted to get the Stone for You-Know-Who? "
She shakes her head.
" No, it wasn't him. "
" How dyou know? "
" Dumbledore came in about an hour ago, to check on Ron and Harry. I started interrogating him but he said he didn't want to 'spoil the suspense'. Then I asked him if Snape really wanted You-Know-Who back, and he told me that first impressions are usually deceiving, and that I should judge people by who, not what they are or what they believe they are. "
" So that's a 'no' then? "
" I think so. "
" But if the Stone is safe, how did you end up here? "
" It was safe. You see, we were sitting by the lake this morning when Harry realized something – we ran to Hagrid's hut, and asked him if he ever told anyone about Fluffy. He said he didn't, but in the end he remembered drinking in the pub with someone who was very interested in magical creatures. – she paused a bit. – Being drunk, he let slip he owns a three headed dog. – Longer pause.- Then he accidentally told the stranger the secret of taming Fluffy. "
" And the stranger—?"
" It was either YouKnowWho's follower or You-Know-Who himself. "
Hell. Hexing bloody hell if I ever drink anything stronger than Butterbeer. We've seen Hagrid drunk a few times before, and it was funny more than anything. But if it's his fault my brother ended up here… George has obviously noticed my blood pressure rising, so he asks quickly.
" What was the secret? "
" You have to play music and the dog falls asleep instantly. Pretty simple, really, I should've guessed it. When we were learning greek myths in primary school, there was one about a Muggle named Orpheus who got past a Hades's Hound by playing his harp. I always thought stories like that are silly and untruthful, so I never assumed they could actually help in real life. " she said all this very quickly, and a bit nervously. Poor girl must have experience with Weasley temper. " So You-Know-Who could've got the answer from anyone with only a little knowledge of Muggle culture, it's an accident he met Hagrid first. "
" Right. So you found out how to get past the dog, and so did You-Know-Who. Why didn't you go tell Dumbledore?" I ask almost calmly (I don't want to set my nerves on edge over this, I need them right where they are).
" We wanted to. We tried to find him, but Professor McGonagall told us he left for London a few hours ago. "
Damn. He had to leave today, of all days. He's just about the only person who can protect us from the Dark Lord. It seems they did have a reason to go down there. But they still shouldn't have gone by themselves.
" But didn't you tell McGonagall? " George asks. Hermione rolls her eyes.
" Like she would have believed us. Just about the whole school thinks Harry is a spoiled celebrity who gets into trouble just to gain attention. "
Somehow, this statement is true enough to make us both feel uncomfortable. George is crimson at the ears, and I don't think I'm much better. After roughly ten seconds, Hermione finds the pity to break the nasty silence (which I think she rather
enjoyed).
" Anyway, we had to go – didn't really have a choice. Harry went to get his Cl… flute, and we creeped down to the third floor. "
She stops a bit to readjust her pillows. And to magnify the tension.
" We opened the door and the dog was there, all three heads growling and drooling. Harry started to play, and it dropped tosleep immediately. We found a trap door on the floor. The I got the flute and continued to play, while Ron and Harry jumped down the trap door, into the darkness. "
" They didn't even check how far the bottom was? " George asks, scandalized.
" Or is there a bottom at all? " I add, knowing that bottomless pits aren't really inconceivable at Hogwarts.
" Well, it was dark, and we didn't really have time for Measuring Charms " she says defensively. " But we didn't think it was lethal, since whoever wanted to get the Stone had to go through there before us. Anyhow, both boys landed and lived so I jumped right after them. We all ended up on a big plant. Thought it was there to break our fall until it started moving and coil itself around us. Luckily, I noticed before it could hold me too tightly, so I managed to jump away. There wasn't much light, but I recognized it as Devil's Snare. " Brief pause. " We got rid of it using Bluebell Flame. "
" What, you carry jarred fire around in your pockets? " my twin inquires in disbelief
She nods curtly. I get a short mental image of a very distressed Snape jumping around with his robes on fire (Lee told us about that delightful incident in detail – he was one of the rare but lucky witnesses). But then that's improbable, a bookworm would never do anything as inspired as that. Would she?
" Then we went through a door, into the next chamber (I think there were seven chambers inter linked, and the last one held the Stone). There was nothing dangerous there, just these little sparkling flying things, but we couldn't open the door on the opposite wall. Then we realized the sparkling actually came from Charmed keys. There was at least a hundred of them, and only one could open the door. Fortunately, there were three brooms in the room, so the three of us eventually caught the right key – Harry's Quidditch skills came in very handy. "
Quidditch. Oliver must be going absolutely crazy by now. Crazier than usual, if that's possible.
" The next obstacle was set by Professor McGonagall. She Engorged a chess set and Transfigured the pieces into soldiers. We had to win the game to get through " Now her voice became softer, more worried somehow. " Ron took command. The three of us replaced three black figures, we had to take the white king. Ron… played really well. The white soldiers were really merciless, they literally knocked out our black ones, but we were still a step away from winning when the white queen attacked. Ron was a knight. He… decided to – well, sacrifice himself. "
Must not yell. Must not yell. Must not yell.
" WHAT? " George yelled.
" Look, we wanted to stop him, but there wasn't time, we couldn't move from our places. He stepped forward, telling us what do after he'd been… taken. The queen grabbed him roughly and … threw him of the board. After that Harry checkmated the king and we won. The two of us ran to see if Ron was al—"
" Don't say it. " I mutter through clenched teeth.
" …all right. He was breathing, and we had to go on – You-Know-Who could have already reached the Stone. " She looks at us, almost as if she's scared we'd combust any minute. I nod a bit awkwardly – I suppose they did the right thing, so we really can't blame them for leaving him. Relieved, she goes on with the story.
" We didn't have any trouble in the next chamber, there had been a troll there, but it was thankfully knocked out. " She shakes herself slightly. " There were only two obstacles left, and the next one was set by Sn – Professor Snape.
" What was it, a flock of bats? " I ask to ease the tension a bit.
" Ha ha. It was Potions, if you want to know. After we came in, the door behind us burst into flame, and so did the one on the other side. In the middle of the room, there were seven Potions and a paper with four clues. They told us which Potion we should drink to get through the fires, and which bottles contain poison. "
To me this seemed the most difficult obstacle after the chess game. Hermione, however seemed perfectly calm and slightly pleased with herself.
" You solved it, didn't you? " It was more of a statement then a question.
" Well, yes. It wasn't very hard, you know, you only needed a bit of logic. Anyway, one bottle was for the final chamber, and another for the previous ones. However, there wasn't enough Potion for the both of us to go on. So I turned back, to help Ron and try to reach Professor Dumbledore, and Harry went forward. " Her voice was very quiet now.
" To try and stop You-Know-Who. "
" Yes. "
" All by himself. "
" Yes. "
" And now he's here, snoring like a Puffskein. "
" Yes. "
Hexing hell with yellow walls. It seems Harry really is The Boy Lived. Twice.
" And what did you do? " George inquires, voice somehow respectful.
" I went back to Ron, through the room with the troll (I had to run, because it was stirring). I tried to wake him – Ron, that is – but he was in a kind of coma. Shaking and shouting didn't help, so I decided to Ennervate him. It worked, partially, but that spell is supposed to be used on people who were Stunned by magic, so Ron wake up in a half trance. I led him back to the Key Room and somehow put him on a broom, but he fell down as soon as it lifted a few feet in the air. He fell straight on his nose,and the shock woke him completely. I quickly explained the situation to him, and nearly had to hold him back – wanted to gohelp Harry fight in spite of everything. When we finally got on our brooms, I was sure it's too late for Harry. We flew up anyway, calmed Fluffy, and the moment we stepped on the corridor, we saw the Headmaster running toward us. He asked me if Harry was down there, I nodded and he rushed through the door immediately. "
" He wasn't at London after all? "
" I think he came back by instinct or something. By that time, Ron was feeling unstable again, so I did the only logical thing – brought him here. Madame Pomfrey was really upset when she saw us. I didn't want to tell her Harry was bound to look far worse when he'd arrive, and that that's only the happier version of what might happen. "
" She cleared Ron's wound and forced him to drink Sleeping Potion. Wanted to give one to me, too, but I didn't want to fall asleep. I waited for about ten minutes (I was completely nauseous from anxiety), when Dumbledore finally came, Levitating Harry's limp body through the door. He told me both Harry and Ron would be okay and warned me to sleep because 'worrying will make your hair gray before time'. So I did, but I woke up two hours ago, and then Ron woke up for a few seconds, murmured something about a runaway Quaffle, but then dropped back to sleep. "
Her voice is a bit worn-out now, I guess talking can be tiring too, especially if you don't stop to draw breath between sentences (or paragraphs, in Hermione's case). Plus, she's been through a lot, she deserves to rest. They all do. And George and I deserve a bit of silence to digest everything we've heard, and to figure out how to tell Oliver that Harry won't be able to play tomorrow (without him causing serious injury to us or himself). Hermione tucks up herself snugly, pulling the white sheet to her neck. We get up to leave, but I feel we should say at least something:
" We've got to go, before Madame Pomfrey throws us out. I'm surprised she isn't here already – we've had lots more than ten minutes. Maybe she's too occupied with reading to notice. "
Hermiones slight blush and frown proves she heard our entering maneuver.
" She's a very good nurse. " she says in a why-do-I-even-try voice.
" With very good taste " George adds with a sly grin.
Lawyer Granger rolls her eyes. She knows George isn't talking from experience. Trish firmly refused to get us any quality literature from the shop, with the unoriginal but logical standpoint of 'your mother would skin me alive if she found out'.
We turn to leave when Hermione mutters drowsily:
" So will you do it, then? "
" What? Go visit the centaur? " I ask, wondering if 'Hermione told us to' would be a reasonable excuse to go down to the Forest.
" No. " She scowls with a Dont-make-yourself-look-stupider-then-you-already-are look that would've made Mum proud. " I meant about the apology. "
Oh. I've forgotten about that.
" Do you really think they – they need it, Hermione? " George asks quietly. After all, noone wants to make a fool of himself if it isn't absolutely necessary.
She, for once, doesn't yell. Instead, she bites her lip with a thoughtful expression.
" Ron has to live up to a lot of expectations. I think having his older brothers saying they're proud of him would really do good for his self-esteem. "
That makes sense. A little sorry-note never killed anyone. Besides, he wouldn't take it seriously.
" As for Harry… an outright apology would embarrass him more than anything. He has enough fans already. What he needs is friends – people who know him and trust him. Who don't treat him like a hero or a celebrity. "
" But he is. He's a hero – he saved the world form You-Know-Who. Twice, maybe. And, like it or not, that makes him a celebrity. " I interject.
" That's not important. " she says, rising to her elbow. " He wasn't a celebrity before Hogwarts. He never even knew he's a wizard. "
" So the rumors are true? About him living with Muggle relatives? "
" Yes, they are. In fact, before you two, he never met anyone his age who didn't tease him and was kind to him. "
" What? " I ask as evenly as possible.
" They teased him? Why? " George adds.
" He told Ron (who told me later) that his aunt was always ashamed of him in front of the neighbors, so he didn't really go anywhere except school. And he went in the same year as he cousin, Dudley, a horribly spoilt bully – he always made sure
Harry didn't have any friends, and that his life is as miserable as possible. "
I shudder a bit. Now Harry seems less like a Boy Who Lived and more like the lonely and lost-looking kid from the platform. The kid who was practically jumping for joy after receiving a Weasley sweater.
Hermione yawns widely and lies back on the pillow.
" He never complains about it but his relatives were very nasty and unfair. His cousin always got expansive presents, while he had to wear used clothes. He never got to eat candy unless his cousin left him some. Once he mentioned he only had chocolate three or four times before his eleventh birthday. Even I ate sweets at least for my birthday and Christmas. "
Damn. I can understand obnoxious relatives and used clothes. But Mum always tried to give everybody equal share, she insisted we share everything we got (although she wasn't very pleased when uncle Bilius brought us Cockroach Clusters and we generously gave them to Ginny).
I open my mouth to tell my opinion on Harry's relatives when Madame Pomfrey bursts in.
" You've been here for more than half an hour. Hermione needs to sleep – NOW! OUT! "
I decide it's best not to argue, so we head for the door. I wave at Hermione, and George winks. She smiles and manages a sleepy 'Bye' as everyone favorite naughty nurse huffs and puffs over her patient's over-exhaustion.
We head for the Common Room. People keep staring at us in a way that suggest they'd believe just about anything we'd say about Harry's condition (the fact that he's in the Hospital Wing leaked out while we were inside). Lee asks about Ron, I tell him he's okay, and decide to give him a detailed account later. After all, a bit of rumor never hurt anyone's publicity. (Actually, it did. Several times. But now we're starting it.)
George beckons me to the dormitory. That's the best place for thinking and having not-so-privet conversations. We both land on the bed, I do a quick Silencing Charm on the door. We're now in Planning mode, and as elder and wiser, it is my duty to start the discussion (George says it's my duty because I'm younger and crazier, but noone asked him).
" For the first order of business, I suggest we discuss a method of compensating for Harry's disastrous lack of sugar in earlier life. " I start Percyishly. " Any ideas?
" I think we should make use of the HP fan club for free donations as get-well gifts. The gathered money would be enough to buy out half of Honeydukes. "
" We should start gathering immediately, and we can make an excursion to Hogsmeade tonight. Please accept my compliments, dear brother. "
" You are scary. So, do you think we should apologize to Ron? "
" He'd just think we're teasing him. It would be best to write a note. "
" Agreed. Let's write one to Hermione, too. We could put it in some book, and wait until she finds it. "
" I think she likes Hogwarts, a History. Saw her reading it a few times. "
That's settled, then. Now all that's left is…
" Gred, I don't like the thought of Harry spending his whole summer with those… Muggles. "
I agree wholeheartedly. Even our house is better than living with people who don't like you… Now, wait, that's an idea!
" Forge, how dyou think Mumd react if we brought home a puppy? "
" She'd fuss, complain, be angry with us and then feed it, groom it, and spoil it within a week. We'd never be able to get rid of it afterwards. Hey – you aren't as dumb as you look! "
" Remember, my dear, I look exactly like you. "
" Point taken. But how to take him to our house? "
" That's the catch. We can't exactly Apparate, and Muggles don't have the Floo. "
" And it would be better not to use magic, we'll need the one Ministry warning for future misdeeds. "
It isn't easy. It seems impossible, but then nothing is impossible if you're creative enough. There has to be something, something that's against the rules but isn't (too) illegal. Suddenly, George jumps up in triumph.
" Gred, dearest " he asks " how much trouble do you think we'll get in for temporarily borrowing one of Father's delightful inventions? "
The CAR!
" You, my brother, may have something there. " I admit in admiration.
We immediately start planning: it has to be at night, when Dad's working. We should try it out a few times before, though, just to be sure. Cloudy nights are best, for things like this. And what's best of all, if we get caught before we reach Harry, we can blame it all on Hermiones story. And, in the meantime, we should get him something to remember us by. Say, a little piece of Hogwarts to take home with him. An unsanitary little piece, that would drive his aunt into hysterics…
Yup, life is great when you're brilliant.
The End. Except for…
" Hermione, are my ears green? "
" No, Ron, they're purple. "
" What? Where! "
" I was just joking. Your ears are normal. Why wouldn't they be? "
" I just got a strange note from the twins. It's probably hexed or jinxed or cursed or devil knows what. "
" What does the note say? "
" Something about them being sorry, and having respect for me and other gibberish. How can someone write something like that and still have clean intentions? "
" Well, maybe they meant it? "
" Ha ha. Don't want to offend you, but sarcasm really doesn't suit you. "
" Fine. What did you do with the note? "
" The only logical thing. Passed it on to Percy. "
'Thank Heaven I don't have brothers' – thought Hermione. But as she reached for Hogwarts, a History, she found she didn't really mean it.
The End. REALLY!
A/N: What do you think? Boring? Unrealistic? Too long? Way too long? Please tell me via review. Just to inform you that I know the horrors of having male siblings with a lethally irresistable charm, and a horribly decieving look of innocence. I tried to Transfigure them into Gred and Forge (thereby having to add eight and ten years, respectably, to their current age). And them turning out like the twins is still a happier version of what might happen – I'm guessing they're be the Maraduers of the 21th century (4 in 2).
