Another Thanksgiving has come and gone, and still I haven't done the dishes.
You'd think it's not a big deal. The key word here is you'd think. I live in a rather large apartment in Boston, with four other roomates: The Calm One, Gray (or that's what he says it is -- I never would have thought a colour to be a name); The Impossible Twins, Jacob and Aaron; and Becca. She's at her parents house in Vermont right now, so she's not doing the dishes. Gray usually does them, so he's taking a break. Yet you'd think I'd be the one to do the dishes now. But it's The Impossible Twins. It's happened every year for the 10 years I've lived with them all, and I'm beginning to wonder.. am I able to clean dishes?
Gray watched me, sipping his deep red blood (he's half vampire -- it was rather frightening at first, but he's the sort of person who has so much self control you want to strangle him) from a red-stained goblet. It always gets on my nerves. He's a writer, and is constantly observing everything that goes on around him. I don't know how he can just sit there... but nevermind. I told you Becca's away: she hates her parents 100%, so, of course, she goes there every year. Typical. She has black hair, I think: it's always coated by some sort of dye or sparkle. She's an artist, always diong these weird artsy things. She teaches at some Muggle elementary school not far from here. She, herself, is a witch, but hardly ever uses magic. I don't know how she copes.
The Impossible Twins are... impossible. They're so immature and irresponsible... I don't know how on earth they got the money they did. I suppose there must be some sort of calm side underneath. I can hear them clattering in the kitchen, and it doesn't sound like they're washing dishes, but they get it done. I don't know why they don't just get out their wands. I think it's part of Thanksgiving: you have to cook and clean without magic. "It's part of the tradition," Becca said this morning as she apparated home.
Jacob and Aaron are so much like Fred and George it amazes me sometimes. They're not brothers: that would mean incest. No, they don't look anything alike, but they're so the same in every other way. They opened up a candy store just down the road in Penny Lane, the equivelant of Diagon Alley. They make the candy all themselves, and they have plenty of money... I don't know why they don't get their own apartment, or even house. It's not like I'm jealous of them or anything... it's just I don't make a heck of a lot of money teaching at Seremicald, a wizarding school in California. Don't get me wrong, I love my job, and the kids are great. I never thought I'd go on to teach Divination, but there you have it. I don't quite beleive it, myself. I guess I've turned into a regular old Snape, just waiting for a Transfigurations opening.
I got an owl a few days before Thanksgiving. There was a reunion at Hogwarts, and I really didn't want to go.
----
"When is it?" Becca asked, twirling a quill before placing it on the parchment to produce another stroke to her drawing.
"Oh, I don't know," I said, glancing down at the letter. "Two weeks?" I brought the typewriter closer to me and clicked the letters, typing up a draft worksheet for students when we got back from Thanksgiving Break.
"Are you going to go?"
"You know I can't just leave my work, Becca."
"But Hermione, this is an excuse if there ever was one!"
"An excuse to what?"
"You know.."
"No, I don't." I paused typing and looked over my glasses at her. I was almost sure that I did, in fact, know what she was talking about.
"To yell at Harry and Ron for not keeping in touch."
"Becca!!"
"I know you say you don't want to, but come on, Hermione, they're your friends! They ought to know how cruel they've been." I sighed and shook my head, resuming my typing. "Come on. You have to get out."
"Get out? Becca, I'm not 18 anymore."
"No, you're only 28, and way too young to be all mature and prim and proper. When you're 32, I'll let you, but right now, I'm making you go to that reunion!"
"No."
"Please?"
"No!"
"For me?"
"No."
"Aurgh, fine. But don't come crying to me when you don't have any friends."
"Aren't we friends?" I replied, trying not to smile as I got back to work.
"Well yes, but-"
"Then stop your fussing."
----
I packed my bags to return to Seremicald the next day, and I still hadn't made my decision. The reunion was a week away, and I'd have to give notice to Proffesor Fichudle, the Headmaster, well in advance. She was very unorganized, poor thing, and I knew to be considerate of her.
"Bye Gray," I said, grabbing my keys and shoving them in my pocket. "Tell The Impossible Twins that I wont miss them, and tell Becca... tell her I'll send her an owl from Hogwarts." I blinked. I hadn't realised I'd made my decision. But the deed was done. Gray nodded and waved, taking a sip of blood to wake himself up. I shivered slightly and apparated out the door, to the gate leading to Seremicald.
You'd think it's not a big deal. The key word here is you'd think. I live in a rather large apartment in Boston, with four other roomates: The Calm One, Gray (or that's what he says it is -- I never would have thought a colour to be a name); The Impossible Twins, Jacob and Aaron; and Becca. She's at her parents house in Vermont right now, so she's not doing the dishes. Gray usually does them, so he's taking a break. Yet you'd think I'd be the one to do the dishes now. But it's The Impossible Twins. It's happened every year for the 10 years I've lived with them all, and I'm beginning to wonder.. am I able to clean dishes?
Gray watched me, sipping his deep red blood (he's half vampire -- it was rather frightening at first, but he's the sort of person who has so much self control you want to strangle him) from a red-stained goblet. It always gets on my nerves. He's a writer, and is constantly observing everything that goes on around him. I don't know how he can just sit there... but nevermind. I told you Becca's away: she hates her parents 100%, so, of course, she goes there every year. Typical. She has black hair, I think: it's always coated by some sort of dye or sparkle. She's an artist, always diong these weird artsy things. She teaches at some Muggle elementary school not far from here. She, herself, is a witch, but hardly ever uses magic. I don't know how she copes.
The Impossible Twins are... impossible. They're so immature and irresponsible... I don't know how on earth they got the money they did. I suppose there must be some sort of calm side underneath. I can hear them clattering in the kitchen, and it doesn't sound like they're washing dishes, but they get it done. I don't know why they don't just get out their wands. I think it's part of Thanksgiving: you have to cook and clean without magic. "It's part of the tradition," Becca said this morning as she apparated home.
Jacob and Aaron are so much like Fred and George it amazes me sometimes. They're not brothers: that would mean incest. No, they don't look anything alike, but they're so the same in every other way. They opened up a candy store just down the road in Penny Lane, the equivelant of Diagon Alley. They make the candy all themselves, and they have plenty of money... I don't know why they don't get their own apartment, or even house. It's not like I'm jealous of them or anything... it's just I don't make a heck of a lot of money teaching at Seremicald, a wizarding school in California. Don't get me wrong, I love my job, and the kids are great. I never thought I'd go on to teach Divination, but there you have it. I don't quite beleive it, myself. I guess I've turned into a regular old Snape, just waiting for a Transfigurations opening.
I got an owl a few days before Thanksgiving. There was a reunion at Hogwarts, and I really didn't want to go.
----
"When is it?" Becca asked, twirling a quill before placing it on the parchment to produce another stroke to her drawing.
"Oh, I don't know," I said, glancing down at the letter. "Two weeks?" I brought the typewriter closer to me and clicked the letters, typing up a draft worksheet for students when we got back from Thanksgiving Break.
"Are you going to go?"
"You know I can't just leave my work, Becca."
"But Hermione, this is an excuse if there ever was one!"
"An excuse to what?"
"You know.."
"No, I don't." I paused typing and looked over my glasses at her. I was almost sure that I did, in fact, know what she was talking about.
"To yell at Harry and Ron for not keeping in touch."
"Becca!!"
"I know you say you don't want to, but come on, Hermione, they're your friends! They ought to know how cruel they've been." I sighed and shook my head, resuming my typing. "Come on. You have to get out."
"Get out? Becca, I'm not 18 anymore."
"No, you're only 28, and way too young to be all mature and prim and proper. When you're 32, I'll let you, but right now, I'm making you go to that reunion!"
"No."
"Please?"
"No!"
"For me?"
"No."
"Aurgh, fine. But don't come crying to me when you don't have any friends."
"Aren't we friends?" I replied, trying not to smile as I got back to work.
"Well yes, but-"
"Then stop your fussing."
----
I packed my bags to return to Seremicald the next day, and I still hadn't made my decision. The reunion was a week away, and I'd have to give notice to Proffesor Fichudle, the Headmaster, well in advance. She was very unorganized, poor thing, and I knew to be considerate of her.
"Bye Gray," I said, grabbing my keys and shoving them in my pocket. "Tell The Impossible Twins that I wont miss them, and tell Becca... tell her I'll send her an owl from Hogwarts." I blinked. I hadn't realised I'd made my decision. But the deed was done. Gray nodded and waved, taking a sip of blood to wake himself up. I shivered slightly and apparated out the door, to the gate leading to Seremicald.
note::so, how'd y'all like it? ::bites lip:: okay, so it's strange. and i don't know how realistic it is that she becomes a divination teacher but come on peoples, i'm strange! ::sigh::
well, i didn't specify font size this time, so maybe there'll be no more "I CAN'T READ IT!" notes in my reviews... >< talk about taking the wind out of your sails.
I have no idea where this is going. No idea at all. So tell me if you want to continue... otherwise there's no way in hell i'm making an effort to.
Thanks to Chibi for the help, though limited, with names... and to dolly-chan for looking at duct tape sites while telling a screaming me to shut up and let her think. ::rolls eyes::
So... yeah. Thanks for all the reviews, guys, i'm in love with y'all! And i'm amazed at how many ((well, 2)) people have put me up on their favorite authors list... when i saw myself on Dia's, my jaw dropped. I'm still in disbeleif -- Dia, darling, it *was* an error, wasn't it? Just ask chibi and dolly... they were there to calm me down when i noticed ^^;;;;;;;;;
xox, -Hallie