Written for the Hogwarts Forum
Honeycomb (feather duster)
Word Count: 627
"Blimey! You look exhausted," Ron says as Hermione drags the final box into their new home.
His girlfriend narrows her eyes at him, and he quickly realizes that he's said the wrong thing. Ron takes an involuntary step back, wondering how many boxes he'll need to keep between them for his safety in case she decides to jinx him.
"I just mean-"
"Save it," Hermione says sharply, and he's grateful to see that she keeps her wand in its resting place. "You can make it up to me by unpacking while I pick up lunch."
"Is it always this easy to get back in your good graces?"
With a grin, Hermione steps closer. She leans in dangerously close, her lips inches from his. "I'm sure you don't want to find out," she chuckles before pressing a small kiss to the corner of his lips. "I think I'll walk. Enjoy a bit of fresh air."
Ron glances at the stacks of boxes that line the house as far as his eyes can see. He deflates slightly. Unpacking alone wouldn't be too bad, but he's certain now she'll take her time just to spite him. Still, he can do it.
"Pizza?" he suggests.
"Pizza," she agrees with another quick kiss. "Enjoy!"
…
The first twenty minutes pass by smoothly enough. Ron clears through several boxes and puts away the contents, quite pleased with himself. Hermione probably thought he wouldn't be up to the task, that he'd put it off until she returned with pizza. A smug smile plays at his lips. There aren't enough opportunities for him to prove her wrong, but he's happy to have found one now.
He moves to another box and pulls the flaps out before reaching in. He pulls out a strange contraption with feathers attached to a short plastic rod. Curious, Ron holds it out, examining it.
It must be a Muggle thing. Hermione likes to balance magical and Muggle aspects in her life. Still, he doesn't understand what it is.
"Almost looks like a tiny broomstick," he muses, tucking it between his legs.
It does nothing. He shouldn't be surprised. After all, Muggles can only fly if they use those weird metal birds.
Ron lifts it again, thumping the feathers. Maybe it's a decoration? Seems a bit strange, but he's come to accept the fact that Muggle things will probably never make sense to him.
He takes the feather contraption and moves it to the shelf, trying to set it up. Immediately after he releases it, it tips over. Swearing loudly, he tries again but with the same result. Another attempt, another failure.
…
When Hermione returns home, Ron has never been happier. "How does this trinket stand?" he asks, frustrated. "I tried the feather half and the plastic half, but it keeps falling."
Hermione frowns in confusion, setting the pizza on top of the nearest box. "What are you talking about?" she asks, joining him at the shelf.
Ron holds the feathered thing up, scowling. "This! It doesn't make any sense," he grumbles, flourishing the contraption. "And what sort of decoration is it anyway? A tribute to birds?"
Hermione's lips pull into a thin smile. Ron groans. She only has that sort of look whenever she knows something he doesn't. "It's a feather duster, Ronald," she laughs. "You use it to get rid of dust."
"Can't you use a spell for it?"
"Muggles can't," she reminds him. "I like doing things the Muggle way sometimes; it's relaxing."
Ron turns the duster over in his hands, brows raised. "How does it work?" he asks.
"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough," she teases. "Come on. Lunch. After struggling with the duster, I'm sure you need to build your strength again."