Once more, 'twas lunchtime in the Hogwarts Great Hall. The food was great; Hermione had shut up about S.P.E.W.; and Harry had a girlfriend.
Life was good for the Chosen One.
Well, it would have been, if Hermione hadn't been eating worse than Ron. She was using her hands and had evidently forgotten how to use a knife, fork, or spoon.
"Uhh...Hermione..." the Golden Boy asked.
"SHUT UP, HARRY!"
"Well, I was thinking of reading Twilight..."
"WHAT?"
"Got your attention, didn't I? Don't worry, I know it's social suicide. But, uhh..."
"What?"
"Uhh...have you forgotten how to use cutlery...?"
"I haven't, thanks." she replied, scowling, returning to eating her meal with her fingers.
Hermione glanced back down to the parchment.
Dear Miss Granger,
We have heard of your efforts for House Elf Equality, however we are most offended that you have never thought of us and the work we do, which is by far more strenuous than the measly odd cooking job. Henceforth, you shall not be allowed to use us without erupting in painful boils unless you sing the great hall an apologetic song about us.
Yours,
Cutting Edge
Head Spoon of the Hogwarts Cutlery Department
Well, she wasn't going to do it, obviously. She carried on eating, ignoring the glances.
"WHAT?" she screamed, finally. "I WILL NOT GIVE IN! NO! NO! I HAVE DIGNITY! THE BLOODY SPOONS SHALL NOT TRIUMPH!"
Harry watched, bemused, as an owl arrived. It was lunchtime; what? She opened it and her face went white. Ron was clutching his sides, rolling around on the floor.
"Hermione? Are you sure you don't need to, uh, tell us something?"
"IT'S MY TIME OF MONTH!"
Ron laughed harder, tears of mirth streaming down his face.
"WILL SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON?" Harry thundered.
Hermione carried on staring at the small slip of parchment in her hand. Finally, she mustered up her courage and stood up on the bench.
"Uh- excuse me!" she yelled.
Everyone shut up. Except Ron. "Er-my-nee, I fan shee up your schkirt."
"Thank you for that, Ronald." She said frostily. "Well. I'd like to- uhh- sing a song about a, um, a very- well, a very dear asset to us all- will you shut up, Ronald- and, well, it's about, um, our dear friends- the, well, the spoons...and other cutlery..."
"I really can, Hermione." Ron said, his mouth clear at last. "I don't mind, though."
"RON! YOU PERVERT!"
"GET ON WITH IT, GRANGER!" A Slytherin boy yelled.
"FINE! I WILL!" Hermione yelled, incensed.
"Knifeys and- uh-forkeys
and kitchens and- well- house elves,
spooneys and- forkeys
and magical- uh- spells,
silvery cutlery helping us eat,
these are a few of my favorite things...
"So...well...just appreciate what the forks and spoons and knives and...yeah...what they do...sorry."
She sat down, cheeks burning.
"Nice knickers, Hermione!" Ron teased, grinning.
BANG
The small bit of parchment, slightly singed, that Hermione had been looking at earlier floated into Harry's lap.
We're with the cutlery.
-Head of Hogwarts Lavatories
