AN: Deathly Hallows rocked! I hated some parts, but I absolutely loved the last several chapters. I am extremely sad that it's finally over, but the good JKR left us fanfiction writers so much good material! I was moments ago digging my way through all the post DH stories online, and then I was hit with a stroke of brilliance for this one shot!
Warnings: Deathly Hallows spoilers.
Standard Disclaimer: Sugarpony does not own Harry Potter. It belongs to the magnificent J. K. Rowling.
Always Check Your Mirrors!
It had all started innocently enough. Ron Weasley, his wife, Hermione, and their daughter and son, Rose and Hugo, had been sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast. The two children were eating some cold cereal, arguing about quidditch teams, while Ron was reading that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet. Hermione, as per usual for her, was deep in thought.
Then, quite suddenly, Hermione turned to her husband and, in her know-it-all tone, firmly stated, "Wizard's can't drive."
Ron glanced up from his newspaper, and Rose and Hugo paused in their discussion. The wizard arched an eyebrow, a skeptical look upon his face. "Where on Earth do get that idea? Plenty of wizards can drive! Don't you remember my dad's old car? Or the time the ministry drove us to King's Cross? Or even the Knight Bus?"
Hermione snorted. "Honestly, Ronald, the Knight Bus? Hardly a good example of proper driving technique. And I seem to remember that the one time you drove, underage in a stolen flying car, nonetheless, you crashed into the Whomping Willow!"
"Woah!" Hugo stared at his father, admiration plain in his features. "Did you really, Dad? Cool!" He backed off, however, at the disapproving glare his mother gave him.
"No," she said, "it was most certainly not cool, it was foolish and dangerous and very nearly got both him and your Uncle Harry killed!"
"Oh, come off it, Mione," Ron groaned. "Like you said, I was underage! At least I got us to where we needed to go!"
"But it completely serves my point! All wizarding vehicles are bewitched; you needn't be nearly as careful when you drive as any Muggle! Wizards can't drive, not properly!" She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, triumphant.
Ron, on the other hand, straightened, affronted. His pride as a wizard was at stake! "Oh, yeah?" he asked. "Well, I'll bet you ten galleons that I could pass a Muggle driving test easy on my first try!"
Hermione grinned. While she still disapproved of gambling, she was smart enough to take a guaranteed win when she was given the opportunity. "Very well, Ron," she sad, looking very much like Crookshanks after he had eaten a bird, "I accept your challenge. You will go to a Muggle testing facility of my choosing and take their driving exam. If you can pass the first time - with no magic - I will accept that I was wrong, and you can gloat all you like. However," here, her grin widened even more than Ron thought possible, "it is hardly a good example for our children to be betting money. So, that in mind, if you fail or use any magic whatsoever, you will be doing all the chores in the house for a month the Muggle way."
Ron swallowed a nervous lump in his throat, intimidated by the high stakes. Still, if he won, he would have one-uped Hermione for one of the very few times in his life. And besides, he thought and the pair shook hands, sealing the agreement, how hard can it be?
And so, for the next two weeks, Ron had studied the driving manual given to him by Hermione, and she had given him instruction on what he would need to know about the workings of the car and taken him to practice driving in place which was warded against Muggles. Finally, the fateful day arrived. Hermione drove him to the testing center, wished him her best, kissed him goodbye, and took the bus home, a wicked smirk of confidence on her face.
Ron walked inside the building, and a young girl at the front desk greeted him with a bright smile. "Hello, you must be Mr. Weasel!"
Ron frowned. "Actually, it's Weasley," he corrected her.
The girl continued to smile. "That's nice, Mr. Weasel!" The red-haired man began to twitch. "If you will please follow me, you will first be given a written exam to test your knowledge of the proper way to drive a car." She led him down the hall and into a small room. Inside were several individual desks, one large desk, and a chalkboard. "My name is Marissa," she continued, "and I will be your proctor for this portion of the test. Please have a seat." She motioned to one of the small desks in the room.
Once he had seated himself, Marissa placed a sheet of paper face-down before him and handed him a sharpened pencil. She then gave him instructions. "Carefully read each question and write the letter of the choice which best answers the question. You have fifteen minutes to answer twenty questions. Please begin now."
Twenty minutes later Ron had passed his written test and was led by Marissa to the back of the building. Parked next to the curb was his car, and standing beside it was a man no older than Ron himself. He wore horn-rimmed glasses akin to Percy's, and he carried a clipboard and pen. "This is Mr. Bakk," said Marissa, "Harry Bakk. He will be testing you ability to drive today. I will leave you in his care, Mr. Weasel."
"It's Weasley!" Ron shouted at her, eye twitching, but she had already reentered the building.
As he turned to face his new proctor, Bakk greeted him. "Welcome, Mr. Weasel-"
Ron grunted in annoyance.
"-to the practical portion of the exam. If you will please step inside the car, we can begin." He then opened the passenger side door and settled himself in the seat, buckling his seat belt, and Ron followed suit, sitting in front of the steering wheel. Bakk guided him through some basic knowledge, such as demonstrating the usage of the headlights and turn signals, and then he finally told him to pull away from the curb.
"Now," Bakk began, "please make a right turn onto the road and pull into the flow of traffic."
Ron followed instructions as asked, but the man beside him tsked in disappointment and wrote something on his clipboard. "What?" Ron asked, beginning to panic. "What did I do?"
Bakk shook his head. "You didn't check your mirrors before pulling into the flow of traffic. That could have resulted in a serious crash!"
Ron turned away from the road and faced him. "That's not going to fail me, is it? I can't fail, I just can't!"
"No, Mr. Weasel," Bakk replied, his voice rising, "but not keeping your eyes on the road while the vehicle is in motion most certainly will!"
"No!" The red head pleaded, jerking the steering wheel in the process. "No, please! I really can't fail! My wife would never let me live it down!"
"Mr. Weasel, I really must insist that you face the road before-"
SCREECH!
CRASH!
SLAM!
BOOM!
The car jerked to a halt as Ron slammed on the breaks, and both he and his examiner were thrown forward into the dashboard. The wizard sat up straight in his seat, and he gaped as he stared out the window. He had swerved into the opposite lane, and a sports car, a mini van, and a pickup truck were all piled upon each other. Another car had rammed into a fire hydrant, and a geyser of cold water was pouring on all of the cars and the road. Luckily, Ron's car had survived without a scratch.
Ron turned the the man next to him, a nervous smile on his face. "Er," he said, reaching into his jacket, "nothing personal, mate, but I really can't let Hermione know about this." When Bakk opened his mouth to respond, he was met with the business end of a wand.
The Weasley family was once again gathered around the kitchen table. Ron was practically glowing, having won his bet with Hermione. The kids were busy eating the last dinner they would have before leaving for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry the following morning.
"You see," Ron said, "I told you wizards could drive!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, Ron, of course. I never doubted you, you know." Ron scoffed. "But you know," the witch continued, "I saw the strangest thing on the Muggle news this evening. It seems that there was a car crash this afternoon not far from where you got your driver's license." She waggled her eyebrows at her husband suggestively. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you?"
Ron laughed, his voice shaking slightly. "Of course not! I mean, really, whatever would give you that idea?"
Hermione and both children exchanged knowing glances while the jumpy wizard continued to gorge himself on his meal.
The Weasleys crossed Platform Nine and 3/4 to meet the Potters, where their children were greeting one another.
"Parked all right, then?" Ron asked Harry. "I did. Hermione didn't believe I could pass a Muggle driving test, did you? She thought I'd have to Confund the examiner."
"No, I didn't," said Hermione, "I had complete faith in you."
"As a matter of fact, I did Confund him," Ron whispered to Harry, as together they lifted Albus's trunk and owl onto the train. "I only forgot to look in the wing mirror, and let's face it, I can use a Supersensory Charm for that" (Rowling, 755).
Hermione smirked knowingly behind her husband, and Harry could not begin to wonder what kind of trouble his friend had gotten himself into.
Works Cited:
Rowling, J. K. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. 1st ed. U.S.A.: Arthur A. Levine Books, 2007.
AN: There you have it, my very own attempt at humor and my way to relieve post - Deathly Hallows Syndrome. Please review!