Floo Folly
Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I make any money from Harry Potter or any other characters from his universe. It's all JKR.
A/N: As always, I welcome any and all reviews. Criticism helps, people! Enjoy.
Harry Potter loved challenges. All his life, he had faced – and conquered – challenges. Some more dangerous than others, yes, but none that he ultimately could not overcome. No matter what fate sadistically chose to throw at him, be it giant, deadly serpents that could kill with a look, soul-sucking monsters that could not actually be killed, foul smelling teachers, or even the most powerful Dark Lord in living memory, Harry Potter rose victorious. Even after fighting through all these obstacles in his school years, Harry had still managed to go on to become the second highest paid professional Quidditch player in the nation after only four seasons (and it was only a matter of time before the Falcons' star beater Hensarling retired, leaving him at the top.) In short, Harry had defeated every challenge he ever faced. All except one.
Harry sighed as he stared down at the Floo powder he held clutched in his right hand. He knew what was coming; it happened every time. He would step into the fireplace, throw the powder, and clearly state his destination. All well and good. He would travel through the Floo Network to his intended target. No problem. Upon arrival, all of his natural grace and balance would completely desert him at the worst possible moment, leaving him face down on the floor, quite possibly in pain. Every time.
Most of the time, Harry was able to avoid Floo travel. Yes, it meant more walking, as he usually had to apparate outside of any wards that may be up to protect a location from unwanted invasions. (After all, what was the point of privacy in your own home if visitors could literally "pop" in at any given moment? Consequently, most wizard buildings had anti-apparition wards.) Unfortunately for Harry, this particular destination was on the seventh floor of its building, making Floo powder the only truly viable option he had, unless he wanted to hike up all those stairs.
With another gloomy sigh, the hero of the wizarding world stepped forward to begin the process that would lead to his humiliation.
WHUMP!
Harry had thought for a moment that he might be able to pull this one off. He had controlled the spinning somewhat, and actually managed to get his feet facing the right direction as he exited the fireplace. Of course, he still ended up here, sprawled out with his face shoved into his female best friend's carpet. Though he could not see her from his (admittedly poor) vantage point, Harry could quite clearly hear Hermione's voice as it floated in from the next room.
"Tell me, Harry, how long have you been in the magical world?" Hermione's disembodied voice asked conversationally.
Harry grunted into the carpet in response.
Hermione continued undeterred. "That's correct, just over a decade. And exactly how many times during that span have you successfully landed on your feet after travelling by Floo?"
Still in his position of shame, Harry shrugged his shoulders; though the gesture went unseen, what with Hermione being in the next room.
"Oh yes, I remember! You have successfully landed exactly zero times!" With this pronouncement Hermione finally made her entrance, wearing a large grin at her friend's expense.
Harry peered crossly up at her from the floor. No matter how many times she teased him about this, he simply couldn't believe it. His faithful, loyal Hermione, who had helped him through the vast majority of his challenges in life, seemed quite content to stand aside and laugh at him as he stewed in his utter failure.
"Oh don't give me that look, you prat. And get up off my floor. Lunch will be getting cold soon."
With yet another gloomy sigh, Harry pushed himself up and followed Hermione into the kitchen area of her flat. Yes, she may heap abuse on him every time he came over, but she did make an excellent roast beef.
"…So Healer Smithers took one look at the new tail, turned white as a sheet, and passed out right in the middle of the operation! Turns out he has a pathological fear of rabbits! Jorgenson had to take over on the fly, or that poor woman may have never been the same." Hermione laughed as she related another one of her adventures from her internship at St. Mungo's.
Harry chuckled along with her, but his mind was not completely invested in the conversation. He knew that he was brooding, and it was only a matter of time before she called him on it, but he couldn't help it. It was simply unacceptable that he was not able to Floo properly! He was Harry Potter: Quidditch superstar! He couldn't be clumsy!
As he raised his eyes from the plate in front of him, Harry caught sight of Hermione watching him with one eyebrow raised. Oh boy, here it comes, he thought.
"Harry James Potter! Are you seriously still pouting about earlier? Goodness gracious, man, pull yourself together!"
"I'm sorry, Hermione, but it bothers me! Why can't I just land upright for once? Everyone else can do it, so what am I missing?" Harry turned on his patented 'helpless and pleading' look. Hermione had never once been able to resist it.
With a groan, his friend slapped a palm to her forehead before rising from the small table in her flat. "Come on then. You won't be normal until you've accomplished this, I suppose. You should be grateful, you know; I had plans this afternoon."
Harry merely shot her a skeptical glance as he followed her back to the Floo connection.
Hermione flushed pink. "Ok, well, those plans might have involved staying home by myself and reading through a paperback or two, but you can't prove anything!" she finished defiantly.
Harry decided not to press the matter of his friend's pathetic attempt at deception and instead returned to the topic at the forefront of his mind. "Of course, of course, whatever you say, but how exactly are you going to help me with my, er… problem?"
"Well, first you are going to describe to me exactly what you do every time you travel by Floo. It's possible that you are simply making a fundamental error that will be easy to correct."
Harry rather hoped that the problem was not a fundamental error: that would be highly embarrassing. Regardless, he went ahead and described his typical experience with Floo travel, including every turn and failed landing attempt. When he was through, though, Hermione still had a contemplative look on her face, indicating that she had not yet reached an epiphany.
"Well, you seem to have the basic procedure down correctly, Harry. Why don't you go ahead and Floo out and return after a minute or two. That way I can observe both your entrance and exit." Hermione instructed.
Harry dutifully did as instructed, and four minutes and two faceplants later, found himself once again looking up at his best friend as she fought to hide a grin. "Well?" he growled as he pushed himself up.
Hermione controlled her mirth and stated her observations in a businesslike manner. "Your entrance seemed fine to me. In fact, I suppose that there aren't really that many ways to mess up stepping into a fireplace, short of diving head first. You really have no hope of landing on your feet with the way you come out, though; your entire torso was out before even a single toe made an appearance. Done properly, your nose and the tip of your shoe should appear simultaneously. Unfortunately, I'm not entirely sure how to fix your technique. It must be something that occurs during the journey itself."
"Well that's a great help, Hermione. 'You are just coming out of the Floo wrong, Harry.' As if I didn't know that much already!" Harry groused.
Hermione once again found herself hiding a smile. Harry could be so childish over something like this, but she found his grumpiness almost endearing. Yes, now that he had grown out of his constant teenaged sulking, it was actually rather cute when the mature, confident, professional athlete pouted.
"Come on, mister martyr, let's go get a second opinion." With that, Hermione grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him back to the Floo, ignoring his quizzical look.
Hermione tossed in the powder and stepped into the flames with her confused and slightly unwilling passenger, calling out in a clear voice, "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!"
Final A/N: Recommendation for this chapter is "Hedwig and the Goblet of Fire" by Meteoricshipyards. A very funny, slightly crack fic. I love Hedwig stories.