Chapter Two: Quidditch and Classic Quotes
By the afternoon Hermione had unpacked and Ron and his siblings were getting
ready to play Quidditch for the second time that day. Mrs. Weasley set out a
platter with glasses of lemonade, which they all took gratefully. Hermione came
outside to the join them.
Ron was hovering just a few feet off the ground on his Cleansweep when he looked up and saw her.
'Hi, Ron!' she called brightly, waving. She had on a black bikini and a pair of denim cut-offs. Ron's mouth dropped open at the sight of her and he fell off his broom, landing with a thud on the grass.
'Ron, are you okay?' said Hermione, rushing over to him and coming to a halt in front of him. He heard the sniggering of the twins and felt his ears go hot as he looked up at her, his eyes now lingering just a bit on the curve of her hip. When did she get curvy hips? And her tummy. It was slim but had a bit of roundness to it. Very...girly.
'I'm fine,' he said quickly, jumping up from the ground and looking away from her. He felt ridiculous. He wished she'd go and put on some damn clothes. Didn't she realize she looked indecent? That her near-nakedness was bloody distracting? That she looked like a...Scarlet Woman?
It's just Hermione, you git, Ron thought. Tan, smooth-skinned, half-naked Hermione.
Fred and George whistled at her as she sat down on a
rickety old lawn chair.
'Knock it off,' Ron snapped, but Hermione simply rolled her eyes and opened a
small paperback book.
'What're you reading, Hermione?' Ginny asked, plucking a few stray twigs from
her broom.
'Romeo and Juliet,' she answered.
'Ro--what?' Ron asked.
'Romeo and Juliet,' Hermione repeated slowly. 'It's a play by
Shakespeare.'
'Shakespeare?' Fred asked, screwing up his face as though he'd just smelled a
dungbomb.
'William Shakespeare,' said Hermione, scanning the faces of the Weasley
children. To a one, they were all blank. 'William Shakespeare. Perhaps the
greatest poet and playwright in all of England. The author of such
memorable phrases as "to thine own self be true" and "my kingdom
for a horse" and "what fools these mortals be'?"'
George looked at Fred and shook his head. 'Is he a Muggle?'
'Yes, but that's not important,' Hermione said, her voice rising and slightly
indignant. 'William Shakespeare is perhaps the most gifted craftsman of the
English language to ever live. I can't BELIEVE you've never heard of him!
Everyone's heard of him! How can you possibly grow up in England without knowing who
Shakespeare is?'
'Same way we got through life without fellytones, I guess,' said Ron, smiling
in spite of himself.
'Telephones,' Hermione corrected. 'And that's not the same thing. Shakespeare
is not some sort of practical thing like a telephone.'
'Then why bother with him?' George asked, rolling his eyes.
'Because...because he's a great poet and playwright!' Hermione cried. 'His
poetry, it's beautiful, it touches the soul. It has a magic all its own,
really!'
'No offense, Hermione,' said Ron, smiling at her wryly and enjoying how she thoroughly
exasperated she looked, 'but if you haven't convinced me by now to read Hogwarts,
a History, there's no way I'm going near anything by that Shakeshoe bloke.'
'ShakeSPEARE,' said Hermione 'and perhaps if you'd open your narrow little mind
you might find out that you enjoy reading it.'
'We have enough books to read for school,' Ron retorted, rolling his eyes.
'Honestly, Hermione, don't you do anything BUT read?'
'Yes!' Hermione said shrilly, but everyone chuckled rather heartily at this.
'I do!' she protested again, her voice higher, and she stood up.
'Like what?' Fred asked. 'And by the way, studying doesn't count.'
'Well, I...I spent a lot of time on the beach this summer,' she said, raising
her chin slightly.
'We noticed,' said George, looking her up and down. 'Nice tan. But lemme guess,
you were reading, right?'
'I took walks,' she said. 'I went to the shops with my Mum.'
'Yeah, yeah,' said Fred. 'But did you DO anything?'
'Like what?' Hermione retorted, putting her hands on her hips.
'How about Quidditch?' George asked. 'Fancy a game with us?'
'Oh, really!'
'Aw, come on, Hermione,' said Fred, grinning. 'It'll be fun. You DO know what
fun is, don't you?'
'Yes,' Hermione said haughtily.
'Leave her alone,' said Ron, feeling very irritable with Fred and George. 'If
she doesn't want to play, she doesn't have to play.'
'You think I can't do it?' Hermione said sharply, whirling on him.
'Who said that?' Ron said, caught off guard. 'I just said--'
'You just thought because I study all the time and get good marks and what that
I'm no good at...athletics,' said Hermione accusingly. 'Well, maybe I am. Maybe
I will play Quidditch after all.'
'Okay, play then!' Ron said, alarmed by this sudden burst of temper from her.
'I will!'
'I'll go get the spare broom,' Ginny said quickly, clearing wanting to duck out
before Ron and Hermione dissolved into another of their now infamous rows.
But Hermione said nothing else and settled for glaring at Ron. Ron gave her a
quizzical look--what was she picking on him for? He was just trying to spare
her Fred and George's merciless teasing. But then she looked away and folded
her arms across her chest.
'What position do you want?' Ginny asked as she came back outside with a second
broomstick in hand. She was followed by Charlie, who wore an old pair of shorts
and a Chudley Cannons t-shirt.
'I...what?' Hermione asked, looking surprised.
'Position,' Ginny repeated. 'You know, Chaser, Beater, Seeker...'
'Oh, right,' said Hermione, feeling very awkward. 'Um, well, what are you
playing, Ginny?'
'Chaser,' said Ginny. 'Numbers are a bit off to have a Seeker, so we'll just
work on goal-scoring, if that's okay.'
'Okay,' Hermione said, and Ron saw to his immense satisfaction that she suddenly
looked very nervous.
'Let's get going,' he said loudly, mounting his Cleansweep and kicking off into
the air. He swooped around and hovered eight feet above the ground.
'Right,' said Hermione, and she suddenly looked very white. She took the broom from
Ginny--it was very old and ragged looking--and swung a long leg over it. She
had a look of intense concentration on her face as she kicked off from the
ground. The broom lurched up and she gave a squeak. Ron swallowed a laugh.
Ginny flew over to her side, confidently astride her broom.
'Okay there, Hermione?' she asked brightly.
'I think so,' Hermione said in a shaky voice. 'I mean, I hardly ever fly, you
know.'
'Nothing to it,' she said. 'I told George and Fred to take it easy on you or
I'll rat on them to Mum--that'll keep them in line. Anyway, you know the rules,
right?'
'Oh, yes,' said Hermione, gripping the handle of her broom. 'I take that
Quaffle and try to throw it through, uh...'
'Over there,' said Ginny, indicating two rather rickety make-shift hoops.
'Either one will do. Of course normally you've got three, but anyway. So, we're
doing smaller teams here. Fred and George are both Beaters but they're beating
on opposite teams. George is going to try and hit you with the Bludger, so watch
out, but don't worry about it, just keep your eyes on Ron. You'll have Fred
defending you and he's going to try and hit me, who's Chasing on the other
team. Charlie is playing Keeper on the other side. He's Keeper for you. So that
means you have to try and score on Ron, who's keeping over there. See? He's
really good these days, but Charlie's the best, so I'll have a tougher time of
it, but it balances out.'
'Hey, thanks, Ginny,' Ron called sarcastically, not wanting any sort of
reminder about his mostly dismal performance as Keeper last year.
'I'm sure this conversation is absolutely fascinating,'
Fred called, 'but the rest of us would really like to play Quidditch sometime
this century.'
'Right!' Ginny called. 'Good luck,' she added, winking at Hermione, who wobbled
again on her broom. Ginny zoomed over to the middle of the yard.
'Okay!' Charlie yelled. 'Hermione, I'm giving the Quaffle to you to start.
We'll let you see how it feels to score a few goals first, okay, before we get
Ginny in there.'
'All right,' said Hermione, her voice very squeaky. Charlie tossed her the
bright red ball. She caught it, but clumsily, and in letting go of her broom
she nearly slid off the side.
'Careful!' Ron yelled, and in the next instant he was next to her, hovering on
his broom and helping her sit upright. His hands made contact with the skin of
her back. She blushed.
'I'm off to a wonderful start, aren't I?' she said sheepishly.
'You'll be fine,' Ron said, starting back toward his goal posts, his hands
tingling. He'd never touched her there before. He hadn't touched her much of
anywhere before, actually.
'Yeah, you can't be any more miserable than Ronnie was last year!' Fred called.
'Shut up,' Ron growled. 'We won the Cup, didn't we?'
'Okay, Hermione,' Charlie called. 'Put the Quaffle under you arm, right? Just
start heading toward Ron. Don't worry about anything else at the moment; George
is going to aim the Bludger toward you but let Fred worry about it. Just keep
your eyes on Ron, okay?'
'Right,' Hermione yelled, her voice again squeaky. Ron bit back a grin as she
wobbled on the broom again, her legs flailing.
'Go!' Charlie yelled, and Hermione spurred her broom forward. It jerked and she
nearly fell off the back.
'You okay?' Ron called, looking alarmed.
'Fine!' Hermione yelled back, righting herself with a
determined expression. She applied more speed to the broom. Ron was circling
easily around the two goal posts.
George pelted the Bludger at her and she dodged it, but it looked to Ron as
though she hadn't done that on purpose.
As Hermione came closer to Ron she began to look panicky. He wondered if maybe
he should just let her score a goal, then decided against it. She'd probably be
offended.
Hermione's broom wobbled again, and she gripped it and
pulled up on the handle, causing it to shoot upward. She
gave a little hooting scream, then righted herself and aimed down, trying to
control her flight. She
then flew resolutely toward Ron. She aimed for the right hand goal hoop and
heaved the Quaffle toward it. Ron blocked it easily with the end of his broom,
and sent the Quaffle flying past Hermione, where Ginny caught it.
'Not bad!' Ginny called encouragingly.
'Really?' Hermione said weakly, circling around, her knuckles white as she clutched
the broom handle.
'Don't grip your broom so tightly, Hermione,' Charlie said as he zoomed in
right next to her. 'Relax a bit. That broom's pretty ancient, but it'll take
you where you want to go if you ease up on it. Trust it, okay?'
'Right,' said Hermione determinedly.
'Want to go again?'
'All right,' she said, taking the Quaffle from Ginny and heading back to the
center of the make-shift pitch.
'Okay, Hermione, just like I said,' Charlie coached. 'Nice and easy. Go!'
Hermione, looking a bit more confident, turned her broom and set off toward Ron
again. She leaned slightly to the right on the broom and rolled upside down and
then back upright again.
'Oh!' she screamed, slowing down a bit.
'It's okay!' Ginny called. 'Just a simple roll, Hermione. Go with it!'
'Oh!' she screamed again, as the broom went into a second roll. Ron couldn't
help it, he started to laugh behind his hand. She barely managed to avoid a
third roll by leaning slightly to the left.
'Ron!' she yelled indignantly.
'Good one,' Ron croaked, now laughing out loud.
'Don't laugh!' Hermione snapped, and suddenly she was zooming toward him, a
very angry look on her face. She swung hard to the left, her legs flailing a
bit.
Ron anticipated and veered left, but at the very last second Hermione banked
hard to the right and hurled the Quaffle through the right hoop as hard as she
could. She rolled on her broom again and gave another little shriek.
'Good one, Hermione!' Charlie and Ginny yelled together.
Ron retrieved the Quaffle, thoroughly annoyed with himself. How had he let that
one get by him? It was such an easy feint, and she could barely control her
broom!
'Nice one, eh, Ronnie,' Fred teased. 'We'll make a Quidditch player out of
Hermione yet.'
'I don't know about that, Fred,' Hermione said, with an air of modesty. Ron
snorted.
'Beginner's luck,' he said coolly, glancing at Hermione.
'What?' Hermione snapped. 'Really? Well, we'll see about that.'
'One more go, Hermione?' Charlie asked.
'Yes, please,' Hermione said, keeping her glittering eyes fixed on Ron. He
stared back at her and a smile curled his lip.
She took the Quaffle again and began to circle. She did a couple of rolls--this
time on purpose--and came out of them with almost no trouble. Then she looped
behind the goal posts. She was obviously trying to get more comfortable on the
broom. Ron couldn't resist teasing her.
'While we're young, Hermione,' he said sarcastically.
She gave him a cool, appraising look, and streaked past him, feinting a bit
right.
Ron didn't take the bait. She turned again and streaked past him in the
opposite direction, going behind the goal posts.
Again, Ron didn't follow, but he shifted slightly, covering both posts more
evenly.
She swerved yet again and turned, flying toward Ron again. She was halfway
across him when she swerved sharply downward at an angle. Ron had anticipated
and this time he jerked down just as she threw the Quaffle toward the hoop. He
caught it.
'Beginner's luck,' he repeated, grinning, and he tossed the Quaffle in the air
with the intention of catching it.
In the next instant Hermione cried out and put a hand on her side, and in so
doing she let go of her broom and fell right off it. She screamed.
'Hermione!' Ron swooped down and got under her just as she fell hard against
him. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and sent them both plummeting
toward the ground.
'Ron!' Charlie yelled, and suddenly everyone was shooting toward them on their
brooms.
Up, up! Ron thought wildly pulling up on the handle of his broom with his left
hand as his right arm went around Hermione's waist to keep her from falling.
The broom slowed and came to a halt just a few feet above the ground.
They hovered there for a moment. Hermione's eyes were squeezed shut, she had
managed to wrap an arm around Ron's neck and was holding onto him so tightly
that he was having trouble breathing.
'Are you all right?' Ginny cried, running toward them, her broom on the ground
nearby. Charlie and the twins were right behind her.
'Fine,' Ron choked. 'Uh, Hermione, my neck...'
'Oh!' she said, loosening her grip, but she did not let go of him. She was
trembling like a leaf, and her other hand still clutched at her side.
'Hermione, what's wrong?' Ron asked, suddenly very concerned. His feet were on
the ground now and he tried to ease Hermione from his broom.
Hermione seemed to come to herself as she put her feet on the ground.
'I'm...I'm fine,' she said, letting go of Ron. He removed his arm from around
her waist. 'I'm fine. I just...lost my balance.'
'You sure?' Ron asked, studying her face. She looked like she was in pain, and
now both hands were on her side. He exchanged looks with Fred and George.
'I'm fine!' Hermione repeated impatiently. 'Honestly. I just...I need to sit
down. I think...I think I've played enough for one day.'
'Oh, okay,' said Ron. 'Maybe we should all just--'
'Don't stop on my account!' Hermione said, with an edge to her voice. 'I mean,
I have my book,' she added quickly, in a softer voice. She looked up at Ron
with a kind of pleading expression. 'Really. Go on. I'll be fine.'
Ron nodded, but suddenly he was no longer in the mood to play Quidditch. He
took his time getting back on to his broom. When he ascended back up to the make-shift
goal posts his eyes wandered back to Hermione, who was sitting on the lawn
chair with her book open. She turned a page, and Ron saw that her hand was
shaking.
