Title: Hermione's Telly-Vision AKA The Big Black Pain in the Arse Box
Characters: R/Hr H/G
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Doctor Who or Spongebob Squarepants, because if I did, I would be on a yacht somewhere, not typing this.
A/N: I don't know what gave me this idea to be honest, but I was always curious about what Muggle Traditions Hermione would introduce Ron too. And I also always thought that he would LOVE television, considering it doesn't require much thinking. Seriously, would he not end up addicted to some soap opera, or Gossip Girl or something, or some really weird reality show like "Groomer Has It" or something? Anyway, I know Hermione doesn't seem like the TV type, but I'm sure she watched it the first 10 years of her life, and I think she totally would be a fan of Doctor Who, ESPECIALLY the David Tennant 10th Doctor version, because he is king of all adorable genious nerds out there, and you know Hermione would be crushin' on him. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!!!
As the steamy summer air began to engulf every particle of 216 Marrow Road, Ginny Weasley quickly conjured up some of her mother's famous lemonade. Not only was the heat making the flat unbearable, it was beginning to make just standing near the new inhabitants quite unbearable as well. As Ginny made her way into the sparse living room, she was greeted with the sounds of an impending row between Ron and Hermione.
"Stop trying to force that plug in there, Ronald!"
"Well, why won't it go in!?"
"It doesn't go there, that's why! Have you even read the instructions?"
"Of course I read the bloody instructions! It's not my fault these stupid muggles don't know what the hell they're talking about!"
"Don't throw the wire on the floor! It'll get tangled with the others!"
"UGH, why won't this effing thing stop blinking!? It's not even 12:00!"
As Ginny cautiously approached the nettled pair, she realized just how angry they were. Hermione was scowling, her normally bushy hair gone absolutely wild from the humidity, as she glared at Ron. Ron, sitting Indian style on the floor, was beside her, examining a large black box with contempt.
"I thought we could all use a lemonade break," Ginny said as brightly as she could. At first it was unclear as to whether either of them had heard her, as Ron had begun to pummel the box with his fist, causing Hermione to shout and tug his arm from it.
Finally, Hermione noticed Ginny standing behind the twisted pile of plugs at her feet and growled, "What?"
"I said, I think we could use a lemonade break," Ginny repeated, joining them on the floor. "It's like hell in here." Hermione was about to protest, but was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Harry Potter.
"I agree. A break sounds lovely," he said, looking immensely relieved as he plopped down next to Ginny. As Hermione begrudgingly poured herself a glass, Ginny leaned in towards Harry.
"So where were you hiding?" she asked, grinning.
"Behind the refrigerator box. And I wasn't hiding," Harry explained. "I was observing from a safe distance." When Ginny just stared at him skeptically, Harry confessed, "Look, Hermione seemed ready to start using those plugs as whips, and I'm sorry, but I am not getting lashed over some stupid television set."
Hermione and Ron had spent the last two hours attempting to set up Hermione's new telly. Unfortunately, neither of them had any idea how to install it without the aid of magic, but, as magic interfered with muggle technology, it needed to be set up manually. Of course, they were both too stubborn to admit they were completely clueless. Hermione had just started to move into her own apartment, a very liberating experience for her. After rooming at the Burrow for a few months, she decided that it was time to embrace her independence now that she was out of school. She had a job, so she thought it was only logical to find her own place.
"That's what I don't understand," Ron grumbled at Hermione. "Why do you even need this telly-vision, anyway?"
"Because, Ron, I want this flat to express both my magical side and my muggle roots, and a television is a very distinct and classic commodity in a muggle household," Hermione snapped.
"If you ask me, you're putting way too much thought into this. Your flat doesn't need all this fancy stuff. Harry and I didn't think about any of this rubbish when we were moving into our place," Ron said, refilling his glass.
Harry and Ron had found their own flat three months prior, and enjoyed brining up the fact every chance they could. To them, it was proof that they were men, that they had entered adulthood, and had mature interests… despite the fact that they spent most of their time playing chess, watching Quidditch matches, and hanging out with their girlfriends (who they'd known since they were 11).
"Really? I never realized," Hermione sighed sarcastically, picturing the disorganized rooms that made up Ron and Harry's apartment. Harry and Ginny rose to make more lemonade, sensing another argument about to erupt. They were disappointed to find it had only gotten worse by the time they returned.
Ron and Hermione were back in their positions around the TV, but were focusing on nothing but each other. Both of them looked murderous, they're eyes flashing as they continued to fight.
"This bloody thing's just taking up space!" Ron was yelling.
"It is not! It'll give the room a very centered look," Hermione screeched.
"Well, I think I should have a say, and I think it's bulky and ugly looking," Ron huffed.
"Wha-why should you have a say!? It's my flat!" Hermione snarled.
"Because! I'm going to be in here just as much as you are!" Ron roared.
It was true. Although Hermione was independently renting the flat, Ron was certainly going to live it a good amount of the time. They had even (secretly)considered renting together, but Ron knew how important independence was to Hermione, and continuing to live with Harry ensured that Ginny would not be able to come over at night, unsupervised. Or so he thought. Ron seemed to believe that no matter how many nights he spent at Hermione's, the mere possibility of him showing up unannounced was enough to frighten Harry and Ginny into living very boring and abstinent lives.
"And anyway," Ron plowed on. "Remember the lamp-REMEMBER!? When I was first moving in to my place, you saw my favorite lamp and told me you hated it, and it made you uncomfortable, so I got rid of it because I knew you'd have to see it a lot and it really bothered you! So now, when I come to you with the same problem, you totally dismiss it!" Ron rambled, a triumphant gleam in his eye. Hermione let out a mirthless snort of laughter.
"Okay, first of all, it is so NOT the same problem. Your lamp was in the shape of a woman's leg and I found it incredibly unnecessary for you to have it next to your bed, considering it had no bulb in it!" Hermione barked. "Secondly, I never asked you to get rid of it, and thirdly, it's MY BLOODY FLAT!" she snapped.
Ron and Hermione resorted to just glaring at each other while they thought of their next arguments. Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry. Both her brother and Hermione seemed to know that they had blown the issue of the television way out of proportion, but neither was prepared to back down.
That's when Hermione struck. "Can't you see how important this is to me?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly. The wetness of her eyes in combination with the sadness in her voice seemed to simultaneously guilt-trip and irritate Ron. With a small frown he slid his hand over hers.
"Yes," he said quietly. "Okay." Harry and Ginny let out sighs of relief as Hermione's pitiful expression changed to ecstatic. Beaming, Hermione leaned in and planted a victory kiss on her boyfriend's lips, leaving Ron torn between remaining stoic or grinning like an idiot. Inevitably, the latter prevailed.
As Ron and Hermione returned to their project, Ron smiling wistfully and Hermione chattering away, Harry and Ginny crawled over to help their friends. They found that Ron was correct in his assertion that the instructions made little sense, and it proved to be tedious work. Harry and Ginny entertained themselves by talking about the last Puddlemere United game and did not pay Ron or Hermione any notice until the latter squealed "And I just know you're going to love the telly, Ron."
"Why?" he asked curiously. "What does it do?"
"It-well… images come out across this black screen," Hermione explained, motioning to the set. "And they move, like wizard pictures, but these talk and move to different places. And they tell a new sort of story each week."
"Like a talking book?" Ron asked, sounding less than thrilled.
"No, not really. It-well, they're called television programs, and they're usually a half an hour to an hour long, and in that time the screen shows you a little anecdote in the characters' lives," Hermione said.
"Hmm," Ron said thoughtfully. "What kind of programs are there?"
"Well there are all different kinds," Hermione said, smiling. "There are sitcoms, dramas, talk shows, news programs… I always liked "Doctor Who," which is a science fiction based show," Hermione added.
"What's that about?"
"Oh well, it's about the Doctor and he's this alien man who looks like a human, and he can travel through time protecting Earth from any alien race that puts it in danger," Hermione said. Ron started laughing hysterically.
"He's an alien!? Hermione there's no such thing as ALIENS," Ron guffawed. Hermione stared at him for a moment.
"I know that, but it's not… it's not supposed to be real," she stammered.
"So how does he travel through time? A time turner?" Ron asked.
"Well, no… he… he has a space ship called the Tardis that takes him to any place or time period," Hermione said.
"What's it look like?" Ron said. That was the question she'd been dreading.
"It's… and old fashioned police box from the outside," she replied quietly. And that's when Ron exploded with laughter again. "Look, he-he's actually a very courageous and brilliant man! He's had to fight these aliens who KILLED his entire race, numerous times, and each time he almost dies! And good people are being killed, and the Doctor has to stop it!" Hermione cried, defensively. Ron stopped laughing to stare at her.
"Wait, people die in this show? How do muggle parents let their little kids watch people get murdered?" Ron asked, slightly horrified.
"They have programs that are meant just for children," Hermione sighed. "Like, my little cousin loves to watch this cartoon called 'SpongeBob Squarepants.' It's about this sponge that lives in a pineapple under the sea, and works in a fast food restaurant."
Ron stared at Hermione for a full minute before he finally said, "What?"
"What?"
"A sponge… lives in a pineapple… in the ocean. And cooks burgers… in the ocean?"
"Yes," Hermione replied, realizing how odd all this must seem to someone who's not used to the suspension of disbelief that goes along with viewing television.
"How does he grill things if he's under water?" Ron asked.
"Well I-I don't know," Hermione admitted.
"Okay… so, who-who else is in this show?" Ron said after a pause.
"Let's see… his best friend is a starfish who lives under a rock. And his neighbor is a squid who plays the clarinet. And he's also friends with a squirrel named Sandy who likes karate," Hermione continued weakly.
"A squirrel? I thought they lived in the sea?"
"They do."
"Then how the hell is a squirrel living down there!?"
"Well, she-she lives in a sort of glass igloo that's filled with air, and-and wears a sort of space suit so she can breathe," Hermione sighed, understanding how insane she must've sounded.
"So she's an Eskimo-squirrel-spaceman?" Ron cracked.
"I swear, all of this makes complete sense while you're watching it," she sputtered, gesturing desperately at Harry, who was too busy trying to stifle his laughter to come to her aid. It didn't matter. Ron was looking at Hermione with a grin on his freckly face.
"I believe you, 'Mione," he said earnestly. Hermione smiled and gave him another kiss. Sighing, she abandoned the half installed television set and suggested that they all get some dinner. Ginny, who's stomach had started to rumble, wholeheartedly agreed, and practically leapt up. As the girls began to discuss dinner options, Ron nudged Harry.
"So, you ever watch any of that Sponge show?" he whispered. Harry nodded, grinning slightly. "Muggles," Ron snorted. "They think up the most unbelievable rubbish," he sighed. Then he turned to the girls. "So, what do you say we stick our heads in the fireplace, call for Mum, ask if she has supper ready, and then Apparate on over there?"
Muggles are absurd indeed.