A/N: Here's just something I thought up, reading about the non-password-guarded Ravenclaw common room. Hope you enjoy! Disclaimer: I own nothing.
--How to: Open a Door--
Hermione Granger was intrigued. Imagine not having to use a password to get into a common room! Anybody from any house could get in just by answering a silly question– it seemed reckless, dangerous, and arrogant in a way.
"Those Ravenclaws think that nobody else but one of their House could possibly be clever enough to get inside!" Hermione said to Ron, Harry, and Ginny as they sat talking in the Great Hall, some time after the final battle.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows you're brilliant, Hermione," he said, a bit annoyed. "You don't really plan on proving it again by sneaking into the Ravenclaw common room, do you?"
Mollified by Ron's praise, but still intent on her scheme, Hermione nodded. "And you're all coming with me," she replied.
Actually, more than Harry, Ron, and Ginny decided to come along on the little adventure. Neville Longbottom tagged along, as well as Parvati and Lavendar, Seamus and Dean, Hannah Abbott, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Percy, Bill and Fleur, Draco Malfoy, Oliver Wood, Lee Jordan, Hagrid, Professor Trelawney and Luna Lovegood (Hermione: But you're in Ravenclaw, Luna. Luna: Oh I know, but I'd like to watch anyway). In all their combined years at Hogwarts, none but the latter could recall ever seeing the Ravenclaw common room at all. The prospect was rather exciting.
Harry led the group up the long winding stairs to Ravenclaw Tower. Hannah Abbott kept tripping and falling down the stairs a ways, forcing the group to backtrack a number of times, until Hagrid decided to take up the rear. Since he filled the stairwell from wall to wall, Hannah could just bounce up against his legs and continue on. It was very efficient.
They reached the entrance, and Hermione stepped forward confidently as the rest of the students (and teachers, and family, and friends...) chattered excitedly, waiting for the door to speak.
"Why did the chicken cross the road?"
The adventurers fell silent.
"Pardon?" squeaked Hermione. "I thought this was supposed to be a philosophical question!"
"Oh, it is," said Luna dreamily, making her way to the front. "I think the chicken's meant to represent–"
"Er... that's all right Luna," said Ron, trying to spare his already frustrated girlfriend another one of Luna's ridiculous explantions. "We, er, we want to solve it ourselves," he improvised.
Hermione looked at the door. "Well, um, to get to the other side, maybe?"
Nothing happened.
"Well, I think it was just being thick," said Harry, who was tired and sore and did NOT appreciate being dragged along on this venture.
"Aw, no, Harry," said Ron, slapping his friend on the shoulder. "It wasn't being thick at all– it was showing moral fiber!"
Amazingly, the door swung open. Gaping, Ron climbed through, but the portal slammed shut before anyone else could enter.
Hermione spluttered. "Maybe..." she muttered, clearly trying to think of any answer suitable obscure. "Maybe it didn't. How do we know that there's a chicken crossing the road at all?"
The door didn't open, and Luna sighed. Hermione whirled around. "What?" she asked, irritated.
"Of course there's a chicken crossing the road," Luna replied. "There are plenty of eyewitness accounts. Just because you're so narrowminded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you–"
"Whoa, wait a minute!" said Harry, pushing between the two girls. "Let's just stick to the problem here. Why did the chicken cross the road?"
Neville pushed his way forward, eager to avert an argument. The others in the crowd parted to give him a clear path– Neville was still gripping Godric Griffindor's sword... and everyone had already seen how well it worked... "Okay," he said. "We can do this! Let's think... maybe he was trying to get away from something on his side of the road."
"Death Eaters," Harry muttered, poking at a tear in his robe.
Parvati and Lavendar gasped. "You don't think he was trying to join them, do you Harry?"
Professor Trewlawney's mystical voice spoke from the back– "Aah! Aah! You may be right! I do see something... dark... cloaked... Death..."
"NEVER!" Neville shouted, brandishing his sword. "He'd join them when hell freezes over! Dumbledore's Army!"
The door swung open for Neville, and the rest of the crowd cheered loudly.
"You have got to be kidding me," muttered Hermione darkly.
Harry sighed as he looked at his friend, her blood clearly about to boil. "You know, Hermione," he said slowly, trying to avoid a catastrophe. "Even if you can't get it to open, at least you'll have this... er... nice memory..." Harry knew before he'd finished that it was the wrong thing to say. Hermione did not get problems wrong. Ginny, though, didn't seem to notice tat anything was wrong. She wrapped her arm around Harry and leaned her head on his shoulder.
"I'll give you something to remember me by, Harry," she said quietly. "You know, I–"
"WILL YOU SHUT UP?" Hermione shouted. "WE'RE OPENING THIS DOOR IF IT'S THE LAST THING ANY OF US DO! Alohamora!" Nothing.
"Whoa, Hermione, calm down," said Dean, stepping forward. "I have an idea." He rolled up his sleeves and took a deep breath. Hands outstretched toward the door, he closed his eyes and cried: "MELLON!"
Nothing happened.
"Er... Dean?" asked Seamus, utterly confused. "What was that?"
Dean shrugged. "It worked for Frodo..." he muttered.
Nobody spoke.
"It's a Muggle thing, all right!" he cried. "My mum's a Muggle!"
Mr. Weasley, beaming, pushed his way through the crowd. "Muggles, you said? I read about how Muggles open doors– it's called diner-might. You simply take this sticks, light them on fire, and–"
"Oh no, Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley said, hands on her hips, adamant. "You are not blowing anymore things up!"
"I didn't say blowing things up, Molly dear. I only–" But Mrs. Weasley had grabbed her husband and was already dragging him away down the corridor. Every once in a while they would hear snatches of her shouting– "Muggle nonsense, Arthur... and after those stiches... sweing things up and now blowing things up, really... WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN DO RUBBER DUCKS HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?!?!"
Hermione looked close to a mental breakdown, curled up on the floor in a fetal position. She kept muttering something about Professor Lupin, and boggarts, and third year, and No Professor McGonagall, no!
All of a sudden, the door opened again. Hermione looked up in disbelief "I did it?" she whispered. "I did it!"
"Er, sorry Hermione," said Harry. "It's just Ron."
Indeed, Ron had popped out of the hole again, beaming. "I've just had an idea!" he shouted, grinning. He took a deep breath and began to stare down the door.
"What the–"
"Shh! I'm concentrating!"
After a few more minutes of concentrating, Ron opened his mouth and began to utter a series of strange, strangled hissing sounds.
"Hisseth! Sssshhhhhessssssiiiiitttthhh! Ssssppppitttthhhheccckkkk!" He stopped, and took another deep breath. "Shhhhhhh! Sssssttthhhhh! Ssssspppppiiiiittttthhhhh! SSHHHHEEEEESSSSSHHHH!"
"Ron?" Harry asked warily, afraid that his best friend had just lost his mind. "Ron– what are you doing?"
Ron sighed. "Parseltongue," he said sadly. And, when everyone began to gape at him incredulously– "Well, it worked once, didn't it?"
Harry's face lit up.
"That's it!" he cried rapturously, whipping out his wand.
"Oh Harry," said Hermione. "I've already tried Alohamora. It won't work."
"That's not what I'm trying," Harry said with a broad grin. And, with a flick of the wrist– "EXPELLIARMUS!"
"Well reasoned," said the door as it swung open.
Hermione began to cry.