No, I am not dead - I have a full-time job! And by full-time, I mean that I'm pretty much working whenever I'm awake. (sigh) But that's okay! I do love my job. The only part that I don't like is that I don't have much time to write anymore. I'll still be doing it, though. I've finished a few small oneshots (from HP and The Wheel of Time; does anyone read the latter?) and I have four times as many ideas. Here's to free-time!
Ron Goes Exploring
Muggle Artifacts Challenge: Write a one-shot involving a witch and/or wizard and their reaction to something muggle
Ron woke up rather early that day, feeling a little out-of-place in such a quiet and non-magical house. He almost missed the ghoul in the attic, or the gratingly loud mirror that insisted he get a tan, or his shrieking alarm clock . . . er, his mum. All in all, Hermione's house was much different from his own in an unnerving way. He stretched and decided to look around once again without Hermione breathing down his neck. He loved her and everything . . . wait, no, he didn't love her . . . well he did! But as a friend, only a friend.
Now, what had he been thinking about?
Oh, right. She had given him a quick tour of the house last night, but she wouldn't let him touch anything — not the fellytone, not the refreezerator, not even the maikrowave. ('Especially not the maikrowave,' she had told him.) It wasn't the least bit fun. She had even tried to make it educational by telling him the history of everything. Ha, like Ron would learn on his vacation. When she asked him if he'd read any books over break about muggles like she had told him to, he told her that the only thing he had read was a menu.
In any case, she was still asleep right now. Ron crept down the stairs — which was much easier than at home, because the stairs would moan if someone tried to use them before seven in the morning — and found himself in the living room. A large black box was in front of him, and Ron was in slight awe as he approached it, running his fingers delicately over the front. "Zee . . . naith," he read slowly. "Zeenaith. Teh . . . lee . . . vay . . . zhun. Zeenaith tehleevayzhun. Hm."
He remembered a little bit about this from Hermione. She had said there was another, smaller rectangle thing . . . it would open the tehleevayzhun . . . aha! Ron found it underneath a throw pillow and greedily pressed one of the buttons.
Nothing happened.
He pushed another, but that button didn't do anything either. With a pronounced frown of concentration, he closely examined the buttons on the small rectangle. Many of them were labeled with words like 'channel' and 'menu,' but the biggest button of all was named 'power.' Ron pushed it without hesitation, and just like magic, he heard a soft click and the tehleevayzhun came to life. Some colorful words started dancing around the screen, while the soft voice of a woman read them aloud. Ron found it slightly unnerving, but maybe it was a muggle thing that he just didn't get. He went back to examining the small rectangle in his hand.
"Volume?" he read. Did it increase or decrease the size of the box? He pushed the down button, but he didn't notice a change. Frowning, he held it down, but instead of the size decreasing, the sound became softer and softer. "Hm." This time, he pushed the up volume button, and within seconds, the sound was tremendous, causing the couch to vibrate with the bass in the commercial. Ron grimaced and hurriedly righted the 'volume' again, checking over his shoulder to see if Hermione or her parents were coming down to scold him. When he figured he was safe, he tossed the box aside. He was a bit surprised that muggles didn't know what volume was. He'd ask Hermione about that later.
But for now, he focused on the story currently showing. The tehleevayzhun zoomed in on a box with a picture inside, where a little girl with a gigantic head was across a bridge with a lavender gremlin. They started singing something, but Ron couldn't catch all of the words. Especially when he was distracted by the other colorful creatures that began to walk across the screen. There was an odd-looking dragon, a rather fat Minotaur, and a pear-shaped squirrel magicked pink, for some reason.
It was mesmerizing. Without realizing his actions, Ron settled deeper into the couch to watch what would happen to the little girl trapped in the box.
"Hi! I'm Dora!" she greeted him.
"I'm Ron."
"Can you help me find my friend, Boots the monkey?" A purple tail drifted down as she said this.
Ron pointed behind her and said, "He's in the tree, Dora."
"Where?" The girl began looking around helplessly.
"The bloody tree. Look behind you!"
Finally, the girl turned. "Oh, he was in the tree! There you are!"
She was frightfully stupid. Ron was beginning to regret opening the tehleevayzhun, but he guessed that she must really need his help. The girl, Dora, began to babble about a party she was going to, which was going to take place on the great big hill. He helped her check the map, which was as dense as she was, then she called for him to come along. There were three places they had to go through before they got to the party, according to the talking map, so she began to chant them.
"Say it with us! River, canyon, forest!"
"River, canyon, forest," Ron recited with her and her friend. Poor girl. She couldn't remember the three steps on her own? He repeated it once more, and then she burst into song.
"Come on, vámanos! Everybody let's go! Come on, we can do it; I know there's nothing to it! Where are we going?"
"The great big hill," he replied.
"Where are we going?"
"The great big hill, I told you!"
"Where are we going?"
Ron roared.
"Hurray!" cheered Dora.
They got to the river and had to swim across, which went fairly well, considering the fact that Boots didn't know how to swim. That being accomplished, he had to help them remember the steps to get to the hill again. "Bloody American," he grumbled to himself in between the chanting.
When Dora arrived at the next landmark, however, things got dangerous.
"We need to get across this canyon. How can we get across this canyon?"
Ron sat back to think. Even though the girl obviously had magical items, she did not seem to know how to use magic. She, therefore, must be a squib. He thought about recommending a broomstick, but she didn't appear to have one with her.
"I've got it!" Dora interrupted.
"What?"
"We can use a rope to swing across the canyon!" The idea sounded pretty dangerous, especially for such a young girl, but she didn't seem frightened, so Ron shrugged in agreement.
"Do you have a rope?" he asked.
"I have a rope in my backpack," she replied brightly. "I need your help to open my backpack so that I can get the rope. Can you help me open my backpack?"
"Fine," Ron grumbled, and Dora turned around so that her backpack was facing him.
"You have to say 'backpack,'" she said over her shoulder.
Although Ron wasn't sure how it would help, he complied. "Backpack," he mumbled.
"Say backpack! Say backpack!" the monkey-friend told him.
"I bloody did!"
"Louder!" Dora and Boots cheered.
"Backpack!" shouted Ron, nearly standing on his feet. His voice finally reached the bloody knapsack she was carrying, and it swept off her back and sang a song. Ron was too busy catching his breath to pay attention, but suddenly the bleeding sack was asking him a question.
"Is this a rope?" it asked, pointing at a tomato. "Is this a rope?" it asked again, changing to a pair of earmuffs. Ron simply stared. He knew the knapsack would get it right eventually. Finally, the sack congratulated itself for finding what Dora needed. It handed her the rope, and she thanked it in Spanish, for some reason.
But some . . . creature was poking its head out of the bushes near her. "Dora, look out!" Ron called.
"Oh, no! It's Swiper!" she and Boots cried.
Ron said a word that was not very nice.
"Please help me!" she begged. "Say, 'Swiper, no swiping'!"
"Swiper, no swiping," he growled under his breath menacingly, but the bloody thing didn't listen. He leaned forward in his seat and said a bit louder, "Swiper, I said no swiping!" It ignored him again. Ron's (rather brittle) temper snapped. "DAMN IT SWIPER! NO BLOODY SWIPING!"
"Aw, man," the creature said, snapping his fingers in disappointment. Ron was about to congratulate himself for stopping the crafty bugger when a voice caused him to jump about a foot in the air. "What are you doing?" He whirled around guiltily and found Hermione peering down at him from on top of the staircase. "Keep yelling like that and you'll wake everyone in the house."
"I'm sorry, but I was watching your tehleevayzhun and Dora was getting chased by Swiper, so I told him to sod off, and then he finally left."
He waited for a beam of approval, but she merely raised an eyebrow. "You're watching Dora the Explorer?"
"What's that?"
She raised the other eyebrow. "It's an American cartoon for children."
"Cartoon?"
"Yes. I mean, it's not real or anything, just for infants. Come on, Ron. You didn't honestly believe that—" She stopped when Ron turned a bright, Swiper-like red. "Oh."
They stared at each other for a beat.
"I'm . . . going back to bed . . ." she informed him, looking a bit confused.
"Right," he mumbled, turning back to the tehleevayzhun. He listened to Hermione's soft footsteps up the stairs, then allowed himself to fully concentrate on the cartoon. Dora was singing a song about finally reaching her goal. Even though he knew it was all made-up now, Ron couldn't help but smile. Job well done, Dora.
Heh heh... couldn't help it. Did you like it? Please let me know and review!
