You Never Know Where You'll Find It
Chpt 1: Muggle Airports
Clara Weasley waited impatiently, with her parents, in the long line of people, waiting to check their baggage on the plane. She let out a frustrated sigh and flicked her hair. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, hoping that when she opened them the queue would be diminished. No such luck! She groaned and cursed silently because they had to wait even longer. She heard a chuckle beside her and turned to face her father, Ron Weasley. He was a tall, well-built man, strong and fast. He was also very funny and had a good sense-of-humour. Clara gave him a glare that could have rivalled her mother's, Hermione. This just made Ron laugh even more. Clara stopped glaring at him when she realised it wasn't going to change his mood. "What's so funny?" she asked, already annoyed about the queue. "You", her benevolent father replied. "What's so funny 'bout me?" Clara demanded, disgruntled by his answer. "You're such a hippocrit!" Ron exclaimed. "What?!" The sixteen-year old red-head was getting more annoyed all the time. Ron looked at his daughter, his sapphire eyes sparkling, before answering. "Well, if I remember correctly, when we were driving from the hotel to the airport and we got stuck in that huge traffic jam, YOU were chiding ME about being impatient, when I started beeping the horn and cursing. NOW look at YOU, complaining about a long line of people and cursing and groaning. So I'll say it again. You're a hippocrit!" Mr Weasley had to try very hard not to laugh at his daughter's face. She was glaring at him the way her mother glared at him when she knew that he had won an argument. The likeness was uncanny. Clara tried to keep glaring at her father but she gave in quickly and broke down laughing instead. "I am a hippocrit, amn't I?" she laughed. "Yes, but you're a loveable hippocrit!" Ron said, ruffling his daughter's amber-coloured hair softly. Clara smiled that smile that reminded Ron so much of him. It was his own lop-sided grin that, when aimed at her, caused Hermione to melt, both now and at school. Ron, himself found it difficult to resist that charming smile radiating from his mischevious daughter. "You'll break hearts with that smile", he whispered. "Just as your father did!" Ron jumped. He turned to find his wife beaming down at both him and his daughter. He put his arm around her waist and whispered, teasingly "Did I break yours 'Mione?" Hermione grabbed her husband's hands and pressed them lightly with her own and said, "Yes, but the same smile and a few kind words mended it again." She smiled at Ron and kissed him quickly on the lips. Clara pushed her bag along the ground with her foot. The queue was moving much faster now and soon she and her parents had reached the top and were checking their bags onto the plane. When they had done this, they went to one of the cafés and had a bite to eat. Clara looked around eagerly at the shops surrounding the café in the busy airport. She had never been in a Muggle airport before. When they went on their holiday they'd taken a boat and now, on the way back, they were taking a plane. This was so they could experience both forms of Muggle transportation. Clara hadn't liked the boat trip. They'd run into a storm on the crossing and Clara was stuck in her cabin all the time because she felt so sick. The holiday itself wasn't that great either. They'd visited loads of Muggle museums and churches and Clara discovered that she was allergic to mulberries, the unpleasant way! All in all, a disastrous holiday! But Clara was looking forward to the journey on the plane. For one thing her mother told her that it would be much shorter than the voyage by sea. Also the idea of being among the clouds appealed very much to the young teenage witch. Hermione finished off her croissant and then went to the bookshop and bought three books. All Nancy Drew, Clara noticed. Her mother loved mystery stories and her favourites were the Nancy Drew series. She was now only missing one or two from her collection, after buying those three. Ron looked at his wife's purchases and let out a long sigh. "You never stop, do you?" he said, nodding at the books. "You know perfectly well that I never will, Ronald Weasley" Hermione replied. "There's always hope" Ron said cheekily, which earned him a playful slap on the wrist. "Uh! How dare you!" Hermione pretended to be offended. She returned to her books and Ron took out a muggle newspaper, looked at the unmoving figures in the photograph, muttered "Weird" and turned the page to read the articles inside. Clara looked at her watch. 5:36. The plane was leaving in an hour and a half. I have enough time to look around at the shops, she mused. She put her new suede, bag which she bought on holiday over her shoulder and started walking around. There were many interesting muggle shops in the airport and they sold a lot of nice things. Clara bought perfume, make-up, clothes and many pairs of shoes. She also bought a whole load of books, muggle magazines and as many sweets as she could afford! She had inherited her mother's intellect and her father's appetite and sweet tooth! She had no problem with money, seeing as her mother insisted that she learn about Muggles at home if she wasn't going to do Muggle Studies at school. Clara didn't really mind and actually found it interesting and had inherited her grandfather's fascination with Muggles! Of course, she would never admit to her mum that she liked it. Then she'd think Clara liked learning or something! Well, she did, but not the way Hermione did and it was only cool subjects like Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy and (though her father would probably have a heart attack!) Potions. The rest was just mediocre. But some subjects were downright dull, like History of Magic. Stop thinking about school, you dumbass! It's still the holidays and you've got all your work done! Her 'Ron Weasley' attitude towards school kicked in and she left the old Scottish castle and came back to the Spanish airport, and it's all-English shopping court (it was placed there when the Spanish people realised that they'd make more money if tourists actually understood the prices of what they were buying!). Clara looked at her watch. 5:57. Bloody hell! I didn't spend that long shopping did I? She ran as fast as she could back to the café. Her parents were hurriedly stuffing books and newspapers into their bags and quickly pulling on their coats. "Hurry up Ron!" Hermione exclaimed as her husband fumbled with his jacket which was turned inside-out. "Relax 'Mione", he replied calmly, putting his now rightly turned jacket on. "We've still got half an hour." "Ron", Hermione said in a would-be-calm voice. "The plane LEAVES in half an hour but we have to board it NOW!" Ron threw his bag over his shoulder and began running towards the gate. "Right, come on so", he shouted over his shoulder. Hermione and Clara quickly followed. They reached the gate just as it was closing because it was on the other side of the airport. They arrived in the nick of time for their flight and were soon high up in the sky, among the clouds! Clara stared out of her window dreamily at them. These fluffy, figments of air and moisture. They looked like pieces of white candyfloss or fluffy sheep with no legs or faces. Clara felt a great urge to break the window and touch them but she knew that the amount of air at this altitude was too low so she stayed put. Besides, it was nice just to look at them passing by, occasionally forming funny-looking shapes. "Would you like a drink, Miss?" A friendly female voice cut into her reminiscing. Clara turned and looked at the speaker. She was a young woman with jet-black hair and brown eyes framed by elegant glasses. Clara smiled at her warmly and said,"No thank you, I'm fine." "Alright then, dear" said the air hostess, and she moved along with her trolley. Clara gazed out of the window again and felt a strange warmth take over her body as she followed the fleece-like puffs in the bright sky. Her mind became clear of thoughts and her eyelids began to droop. Clara's first instinct was to fight it off but she thought better of it and let sleep carry her away! ********************************************************************* "Clara. Clara honey, wake up." Ron stood over his daughter's seat, gently shaking her awake. "C'mon Clara, wake up" he said, softly. Clara rubbed her eyes and said groggily, "Where are we?" Her mother answered her. "We're home, dear."
Chpt 1: Muggle Airports
Clara Weasley waited impatiently, with her parents, in the long line of people, waiting to check their baggage on the plane. She let out a frustrated sigh and flicked her hair. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, hoping that when she opened them the queue would be diminished. No such luck! She groaned and cursed silently because they had to wait even longer. She heard a chuckle beside her and turned to face her father, Ron Weasley. He was a tall, well-built man, strong and fast. He was also very funny and had a good sense-of-humour. Clara gave him a glare that could have rivalled her mother's, Hermione. This just made Ron laugh even more. Clara stopped glaring at him when she realised it wasn't going to change his mood. "What's so funny?" she asked, already annoyed about the queue. "You", her benevolent father replied. "What's so funny 'bout me?" Clara demanded, disgruntled by his answer. "You're such a hippocrit!" Ron exclaimed. "What?!" The sixteen-year old red-head was getting more annoyed all the time. Ron looked at his daughter, his sapphire eyes sparkling, before answering. "Well, if I remember correctly, when we were driving from the hotel to the airport and we got stuck in that huge traffic jam, YOU were chiding ME about being impatient, when I started beeping the horn and cursing. NOW look at YOU, complaining about a long line of people and cursing and groaning. So I'll say it again. You're a hippocrit!" Mr Weasley had to try very hard not to laugh at his daughter's face. She was glaring at him the way her mother glared at him when she knew that he had won an argument. The likeness was uncanny. Clara tried to keep glaring at her father but she gave in quickly and broke down laughing instead. "I am a hippocrit, amn't I?" she laughed. "Yes, but you're a loveable hippocrit!" Ron said, ruffling his daughter's amber-coloured hair softly. Clara smiled that smile that reminded Ron so much of him. It was his own lop-sided grin that, when aimed at her, caused Hermione to melt, both now and at school. Ron, himself found it difficult to resist that charming smile radiating from his mischevious daughter. "You'll break hearts with that smile", he whispered. "Just as your father did!" Ron jumped. He turned to find his wife beaming down at both him and his daughter. He put his arm around her waist and whispered, teasingly "Did I break yours 'Mione?" Hermione grabbed her husband's hands and pressed them lightly with her own and said, "Yes, but the same smile and a few kind words mended it again." She smiled at Ron and kissed him quickly on the lips. Clara pushed her bag along the ground with her foot. The queue was moving much faster now and soon she and her parents had reached the top and were checking their bags onto the plane. When they had done this, they went to one of the cafés and had a bite to eat. Clara looked around eagerly at the shops surrounding the café in the busy airport. She had never been in a Muggle airport before. When they went on their holiday they'd taken a boat and now, on the way back, they were taking a plane. This was so they could experience both forms of Muggle transportation. Clara hadn't liked the boat trip. They'd run into a storm on the crossing and Clara was stuck in her cabin all the time because she felt so sick. The holiday itself wasn't that great either. They'd visited loads of Muggle museums and churches and Clara discovered that she was allergic to mulberries, the unpleasant way! All in all, a disastrous holiday! But Clara was looking forward to the journey on the plane. For one thing her mother told her that it would be much shorter than the voyage by sea. Also the idea of being among the clouds appealed very much to the young teenage witch. Hermione finished off her croissant and then went to the bookshop and bought three books. All Nancy Drew, Clara noticed. Her mother loved mystery stories and her favourites were the Nancy Drew series. She was now only missing one or two from her collection, after buying those three. Ron looked at his wife's purchases and let out a long sigh. "You never stop, do you?" he said, nodding at the books. "You know perfectly well that I never will, Ronald Weasley" Hermione replied. "There's always hope" Ron said cheekily, which earned him a playful slap on the wrist. "Uh! How dare you!" Hermione pretended to be offended. She returned to her books and Ron took out a muggle newspaper, looked at the unmoving figures in the photograph, muttered "Weird" and turned the page to read the articles inside. Clara looked at her watch. 5:36. The plane was leaving in an hour and a half. I have enough time to look around at the shops, she mused. She put her new suede, bag which she bought on holiday over her shoulder and started walking around. There were many interesting muggle shops in the airport and they sold a lot of nice things. Clara bought perfume, make-up, clothes and many pairs of shoes. She also bought a whole load of books, muggle magazines and as many sweets as she could afford! She had inherited her mother's intellect and her father's appetite and sweet tooth! She had no problem with money, seeing as her mother insisted that she learn about Muggles at home if she wasn't going to do Muggle Studies at school. Clara didn't really mind and actually found it interesting and had inherited her grandfather's fascination with Muggles! Of course, she would never admit to her mum that she liked it. Then she'd think Clara liked learning or something! Well, she did, but not the way Hermione did and it was only cool subjects like Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy and (though her father would probably have a heart attack!) Potions. The rest was just mediocre. But some subjects were downright dull, like History of Magic. Stop thinking about school, you dumbass! It's still the holidays and you've got all your work done! Her 'Ron Weasley' attitude towards school kicked in and she left the old Scottish castle and came back to the Spanish airport, and it's all-English shopping court (it was placed there when the Spanish people realised that they'd make more money if tourists actually understood the prices of what they were buying!). Clara looked at her watch. 5:57. Bloody hell! I didn't spend that long shopping did I? She ran as fast as she could back to the café. Her parents were hurriedly stuffing books and newspapers into their bags and quickly pulling on their coats. "Hurry up Ron!" Hermione exclaimed as her husband fumbled with his jacket which was turned inside-out. "Relax 'Mione", he replied calmly, putting his now rightly turned jacket on. "We've still got half an hour." "Ron", Hermione said in a would-be-calm voice. "The plane LEAVES in half an hour but we have to board it NOW!" Ron threw his bag over his shoulder and began running towards the gate. "Right, come on so", he shouted over his shoulder. Hermione and Clara quickly followed. They reached the gate just as it was closing because it was on the other side of the airport. They arrived in the nick of time for their flight and were soon high up in the sky, among the clouds! Clara stared out of her window dreamily at them. These fluffy, figments of air and moisture. They looked like pieces of white candyfloss or fluffy sheep with no legs or faces. Clara felt a great urge to break the window and touch them but she knew that the amount of air at this altitude was too low so she stayed put. Besides, it was nice just to look at them passing by, occasionally forming funny-looking shapes. "Would you like a drink, Miss?" A friendly female voice cut into her reminiscing. Clara turned and looked at the speaker. She was a young woman with jet-black hair and brown eyes framed by elegant glasses. Clara smiled at her warmly and said,"No thank you, I'm fine." "Alright then, dear" said the air hostess, and she moved along with her trolley. Clara gazed out of the window again and felt a strange warmth take over her body as she followed the fleece-like puffs in the bright sky. Her mind became clear of thoughts and her eyelids began to droop. Clara's first instinct was to fight it off but she thought better of it and let sleep carry her away! ********************************************************************* "Clara. Clara honey, wake up." Ron stood over his daughter's seat, gently shaking her awake. "C'mon Clara, wake up" he said, softly. Clara rubbed her eyes and said groggily, "Where are we?" Her mother answered her. "We're home, dear."