Hermione ever so softly let herself breathe deeply. It had been a chance, a big one, for her to dare and try and escape out of the small cottage. It hadn't even been a conscious decision. Hermione had seen her chance, all of her Comforts were involved in helping Charlie escorting Bill out in order for Bill to take a much needed walk. Charlie's voice had been enough in the beginning, Bill seemed to be hypnotised as Charlie had grabbed Bill's arms and slowly made him move down to the main entrance. Yet something in the hallway seemed to spook Bill, and just as Charlie seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, Bill had made an attempt to wriggle out of Charlie's grip. It had taken the combined help of Fred and George to convince Bill to give up the idea of bolting, and it was then that Hermione had taken her chance. She had known that Lee and Oliver would be paying too much attention to Bill, Charlie, Fred and George, to be looking upstairs where she was supposed to be remaining until someone fetched her, long before she had peeked out between the banisters. Hermione only did so in order to confirm it, before she had grabbed a light pullover from the cupboard, dragged it over herself and took the only thing she needed to feel safe, a Muggle personal alarm.
Hermione knew that this was all she needed if she was to wander around the forest. The only creature to fear was Bill, during one of his States, and she knew enough about plants to know what was safe to be near. Hermione knew that every few weeks, one of her Comforts would patrol the entire forest to make sure that no one was near by. That not a single Muggle, or witch or wizard had moved into their Territory, as Bill would term it. This was, after all, supposed to be a safe place, primarily for Hermione's sake, despite how the rest of her Comforts kept trying to delude her into thinking that they also needed the tranquility, peace and quiet. Hermione wasn't stupid, and her Comforts kept explaining to her that they knew she wasn't.
Yet somehow that escaped them whenever the subject of the reasn of why they were here. It seemed to follow along the lines of how much sleep her Comforts decided she needed, or food.
One of her cynical smiles, one that used to cause Ro…several of her friends, to promptly throw several cushions at her, especially when they were in the Gry...that Common Room where so many seemed to be in supply. It didn't matter how many times she had protested at this treatment, they would simply hit her with those pillows anyway.
Back in those days, Hermione knew…
She sighed. What had she known back in those days? Had she ever realised what cruelty she would have to endure? No, instead Hermione had always thought that no matter what happened to her, or…
She gave a quick shake of her head.
It had been years before she had been able to call them by anything even close to their names, due to her Comforts' insistance, not hers. That perfect little world Hermione had managed to create around herself had fooled everyone. They had thought she as finally recovering, that she was acting some-what normal, especially as she seemed to have taken it upon herself to become an annoying sister. To them, Hermione had dropped all boundaries, and was engaged in a friendly war with Bill over waking him up.
Just like her dream this morning had showed.
But then it had been shredded soon after, when Bill had managed to find Hermione crying her eyes out in one of the lone girl's bathrooms, the usual toliet facility inhabited by Moaning Myrtle. He hadn't believed that it was the simple fact that she had gotten into a little argument with someone else, or that there had been a little problem between her and a book. Instead, Bill had swept her up in his arms, carried her back to their private room and forbade her from leaving it. Somehow, he managed to get her to drink a Sleeping Potion, and the next thing Hermione knew, she was being told that it had been decided that they were all moving out of That Place.
Hermione hadn't had a say, the few belonging she could handle being around her were packed up and Hermione and her Comforts had moved into a small house in the Scottish highlands.
And slowly over the next two years, her Comforts had managed to persuade her to slowly adapt to the new situation. She still had the nightmares, the screams, the shakes everytime there was a flash…but her Comforts had managed to accomplish a few wins.
Her Comforts knew that too many memories of her past, ones that she needed to live with, remember and move on, were concerned with Them. And as Hermione refused to speak of Them by name, her Comforts knew that they needed to have her confront the past. So, they had taken on a different approach. They had decided to take it another way, and so instead of insisting Hermione call Them by their first names, they had made up special words associated with the two.
Hermione's best friend with the shaggy black hair, emerald eyes and a thirst to rush into advenutes without thinking, became KOC (Knight of Camelot). He always loved the medieval tales, especially the wizard Merlin, and if it was followed what the Knights of the Round Table were supposed to have done, then he was a perfect character for such a story.
And it used to always bring a small smile to her face upon hearing the latest endeaver he had somehow managed to involve himself in. An adventure that inevitably led to Hermione and their other friend ended up someohow caught up in it as well.
And Hermione's other best friend with the light red hair, sparkling blue eyes and his ability to be able to see the strategy of outmuneovering the tightest of situations, became named after the very game that first displayed the talent that made him different from all of his brothers: Chess. More than once Hermione could remember the three of them sitting in the Gry...in That Common room, spending the few hours they had before something else would become the centre of their attention, and she watching KOC and Chess battle it out, even though the three of them knew that Chess would win. He always won.
But that was all gone now.
Hermione could easily remember how many times those three had had the use of a chess game in order to either calm their minds down so that a problem could be sorted, usually something that turned out to play a big part in their yearly adventure, or to deal with the trauma of the aftermath of the adventure. And this game was only every played in That Common room, or else in the Hospital Wing…
Hermione gave her head another hurried shake.
Hermione could remember each and every time one of Them had ended up in there.
In their first year, Chess and KOC had ended up in the Hosptial Wing due to their injuries of a chess game…and something that looked like a simple red rock.
In their second year, it had been she who had, by the end of the school year, confined to a hospital bed with the medi-witch hovering over her. That had been the first time…
And in their third, all three had, with Chess suffering from a broken leg; KOC from the trauma of dealing with a We…with Remus, and she the same. Yet, KOC and herself had set out to re-live the entire night anyway.
Fourth year was simply KOC, with Chess and herself watching over him. Chess had even managed to concinvce her to play a few games of chess while they waited.
And in their fifth, it had all fallen apart. No longer were these adventures that were only hurting the three of them, threatening their lives. Now it became events that involved people they cared about. Wizards who were now her Comforts.
By their sixth year, the three had decided to take matters into their own hands, especially after they lost Sirius, and set out to look for the very items that could kill the Dark Thing.
And look how it ended up?
Instantly, her mind flashed her memories of the time the three had spent looking for those items. Of when they had been nearly cornered in that abandoned house, the Riddle House, searching for something that had been mentioned in the police reports from many years before. Who would have thought…?
And then there were those caves where they had been caught with the tide had been coming in, because some hermit had been overheard speaking of a cup that contained the soul of the very darkness and that sent anyone who looked into its bowl to madness?
All that, and yet somehow, it hadn't mattered in the end. Chess and KOC were…were not there anymore, and neither was…
That was the one person that she wouldn't even give a special name for. Hermione refused to name that one by full name, or special. To Hermione, that one would always be Her.
And nothing her Comforts could say would change her mind.
Every now and then, her Comforts would begin the entire argument all over again. That was what had set Bill off this morning. The talk Hermione had had with Bill had simply started the problems all over again, IT. Bill needed for IT to begin again.
And that was what had forced Charlie to nearly kick Bill out of the house.
And why Hermione had sneaked out. IT always did that to her.
So now she drifted through the woods, knowing full well that if any of her Comforts realised where she was, she would be dragged back to the cottage. They knew how traumitised she got each and every time IT was mentioned, and when it was time to do IT, she moved further into her shell. And, before long, they would realise that she had disappeared, once they had made sure that Bill had walked far enough away from the cottage.
That was when the search party would begin, with the rest of her Comforts hoping that Bill didn't find out.
And that was why she was taking in the few moments of peace, the tranquility that Hermione had only ever been able to find when she was in the cottage, or around it. Something about the way the shadow of leaves moved, the soft call of the various birds mixed with the distant soothing voices of her Comforts reminded Hermione…
What was that?
Among the various shades of green, a small blue object caught her attention. It wasn't any colour Hermione could ever remember one of the plants surrounding the small house being, and her mind kept flashing little warning signs at her. She should stay away from it, whatever it was. It was trouble. It would only give her pain.
Yet the curiousness that had been slowly nurtured when she was younger kept tugging at her. It might be an object that would only hurt her, but she had to know what it was. She had to know why it would hurt her.
And so with slight trepadition, Hermione carefully picked up the object, to discover…a blue photograph album. She knew what this was. She knew what was contained within it.
But who could have put it there?
Her mind instantly flickered to the image of- Could it have been Bill?
Her Comforts had made an unaminious decision all those years ago that any object that could remind her of her two best friends, of what used to be, or any of the others who had per…
No.
Hermione roughly shook her head.
No, Bill had been one of her Comforts who had insisted that all objects, all memrobelia, needed to be destroyed, or, if there was something that Hermione may be able to learn to treasure once more, left back at That Place.
No.
Bill wouldn't have changed mind.
Yet, Bill hadn't been thinking rationally before Charlie had practically shown him the door. He had been fuming the entire time Charlie had been carefully persuaded him to go for a long walk in the woods surrounding their house. And the fact that Charlie had needed help to do so, and had slammed the front door behind Bill, Hermione could hear it as she had stepped deeper into the woods, proved that.
She had headed in the direct opposite direction of where she knew Bill would stomp down. She didn't need Bill to find her. She couldn't have Bill find her, not when he was like this.
Hermione didn't feel like being man-handled back to the house.
But…Charlie wouldn't have allowed Bill to grab anything, other than his cloak. Charlie knew what Bill was capable of if he had something to help him destroy, and Charlie would have made sure to even take Bill's wand. Bill had proven exactly what he could do with his wand.
And for Bill to be able to pick up something like this, even though it would be small enough to put in his pocket, meant that he would have been able to force Charlie to move towards his hiding place. And Charlie was the closest one to strength compared to Bill. It wouldn't have been easy. And Bill wouldn't have managed to accomplish this without alerting Charlie.
No, it couldn't have been Bill. Unless he had hidden on him for the entire night, and he had then promptly hidden it in the forest so that Hermione could find it…
No.
But then who did that leave? None of the rest of the Comforts had been outside, and with the storm last night… It never would have survived the storm. And the only way it would have, was if magic had been used.
That was unlikely. No. They rarely used magic. And one of them wouldn't, even to hide a photograph book.
No, she had found it too easily.
Hermione sighed.
She could remember a time when she didn't believe in magic. Hermione had grown up with parents who were realists, they didn't believe in having her mind filled with ideas that could never come true. Oh, they had read her nursery rhymes and fairy tales, but always made sure that she knew that while there were such things as princesses and castles, there hadn't been any such adventures that had happened to them since the Dark Ages, and there certainly were never any dragons. And her parents had been quick to exchange those stories for non-fiction. And Hermione had quickly learned which one she preferred.
As the years had passed, Hermione had surrounded herself in science, literature, history and so on, and had been in the middle of preparing a history report on the Black Plague, and driving the librarian at the local library up the wall with the kinds of books she was asking to borrow, when the letter for her arrived.
And it had changed everything.
Immediately, and after she had been assured that magic was real by Albus Dumbledore himself, Hermione had delved into any books she could find. There had been very little, it was rare when an actual account of the Wizarding World managed to find itself into the Muggle World, and it was only after Hermione had to admit, after several weeks, that she wouldn't learn anything. And so, she had sent a letter back to Albus Dumbledore with the owl he had let her borrow so that she could communicate with the Wizarding World in the months leading up to her actually going to Hogwarts, asking for help.
It was only after Hermione had received a letter back from Albus Dumbledore did she realise that she was taking up his valuable time, but he seemed to have already known that, and had assured her that he was more than happy to help. Also, he acquaised her request, and that if she was to simply feed the owl a few of the treats from the bag attached to its leg, and then peruse through the catalogues the owl had also brought her. If she needed anymore, then she could send the owl out to get more from other bookstores who would be more than happy to gve her lists of books they would recommend.
And so, the rest of the summer had been spent with Hermione placing orders for books and then going through them, one by one.
It was among those history books that KOC's name had come up, time and time again.
At that time, Hermione had never thought that she would ever, actually, meet the boy who was mentioned all over the histoy of the Wizarding World during the past twenty years. And as she had delved further, history had become her favourite subject, and not just because of the small boy who had saved the world. There had also been the mention of how a small group of witches and wizards had been the ones who had managed to change the world by fighting in a war that they believed they were going to lose. Their stories had touched her.
And then along with KOC, Hermione had met Chess. Her entire life had changed, more so than when she had found out about the Wizarding World. Those two became her best friends, through what could have been the most unfortunate event probably should have torn them apart forever. But that incident involving the troll had led to a budding friendship. And as the years had passed, the friendship, with KOC's permission, between herself and Chess had become…more.
Just before the three had set out from what would turn out to be their last rest stop, to find the last two of the Horcruxes, herself and Chess had become lovers.
But too soon, way too soon, Hermione had lost them both. She had had the two, one who was her lover, the other who she considered a brother, taken away from her cruelly. Chess and KOC, after managing to survive the last few months, were…gone.
And she no longer had anyone to live for.
Hermione knew that her Comforts were trying hard as they could, to give her a reason to live. She knew that during many of the Comforts' nights were spent, while she was asleep in one of their arms, by the fireside, trying to think of someway, anyway, of being able to convince Hermione to live.
She was, after all, the last one of the younger ones, left. She was the last girl.
The only ones left were herself and her Comforts, out of all family and friends.
Then why had the photograph book been left for her to find? It had been left in the open, easy for her to discover. None of them would have let her come across this. They knew what it would do to her. It would only drive her further inwards, not help at her.
It would be full of memories.
Hermione glanced down, to see that she had unknowlingly opened the book. And before Hermione could close her eyes, to not allow herself to see anything, her attention was caught by a particular photograph.
It had been taken, one of many, by Colin Creevy, when they didn't know what kind of future they would eventually find themselves in. Colin had managed to creep up on them, as the three sat up against the largest tree around The Great Lake. Well, sitting was a loose word. It was more that Chess and KOC were leaning up against the tree, and Hermione was spooned between them, with Hermione using Chess' shoulders as a headrest.
The three had been so happy at the time. Chess had placed the latest incident involving…the Rat at the back of his mind, and was acting his usual easy-going self. KOC had even placed his worries about…Sirius, in a box that was firmly locked up, and the three were simply enjoying the late October sun, with heavy coats, thick scarves and pants on, of course.
It wasn't that warm.
But at that moment, all the three cared about was enjoying the unseasonal good weather. They had been talking about this and that, and Hermione had, in the midst of a conversation of KOC wondering what it would be like if he could travel back to the seventies and see his parents, slipped up about her time turner. The other two hadn't noticed of course, Chess had simply rolled his eyes as the two moved on to whether they thought that KOC's father was in trouble as much as KOC was.
And as the two talked, Hermione had silently berated herself, even though in the back of her mind, she was wishing she could tell them the truth. She hated keeping secrets from them.
Yet, Hermione had held her tongue, even when Chess had made another remark about Hermione taking too many classes. And then the conversation had turned again, as Chess and KOC discussed their new Defence Against the Dark Arts' professor at that time…Remus Lupin.
In 1993, Remus had been slowly making his way to gaining the weight to be healthy again. And, there had always been that twinkle in his amber eyes that had made Hermione doubt all the stories she had read in books involving Were-wolves.
He just looked happier too, teaching the students.
And that state of contentment had only ever been topped when Remus had been staying in 12 Grimnauld Place, as he had his best friend back, safe and living with him again. The small smiles the two had exchanged, the jokes Sirius had said and causing Remus to pretend to tell him off…that had been happiness.
The two had Passed On now.
But, at least, they were together again.
Hermione sighed.
There were very few left, even though the war, had been rightfully won by the Light, or at least most of it as there were still a few Inner Circle Ones running around. Yet, winning it had meant that there were few who she had been close to from the very beginning, still alive. Only Fred, George as ones she was actually close to, and Oliver and Lee as ones she was around sometimes. But she had still grown up around them.
There was no one else. The rest were dead.
And Bill and Charlie didn't count as ones she had been close to. They had always been, before, just the older brothers of the twins, Chess and Her. She had never seen them often. And she had only met them back in 1994, for the Quidditch World Cup, and other than seeing Charlie before the First Task, if it counted her coming to the barrier around the dragons' pen and had a quick chat with Charlie before he had been called back, and Bill just before the Third, Hermione had rarely seen them. Even when Hermione had been holed up in the Grimnauld Place, along with the twins, Chess and Her, her actual interaction with Bill and Charlie had been short and infrequent.
It had only been after she had returned after her loss, had Bill and Charlie really entered her lives.
Hermione shook her head.
She hadn't known anything about them until Bill had found her in the Hospital Wing, and had taken over her care.
'Mione!' called a voice.
Instinctively, Hermione felt her body become rigid as she heard the crunching of leaves as Charlie made his way towards her.
She didn't need one of her Comforts to interfere now. She may be travelling down the river of memories, hard to think of memories, but that didn't mean she wanted it to be brought to an abrupt halt.
For just as these memories brought her pain, they also reminded Hermione of the good times. The better times. They made her feel the happiness she once had.
She would never get those feelings back, no matter how hard her Comforts tried. No matter how long they tried.
There was no hope left.
Swallowing, Hermione slipped the photograph book into her cloak, and stepped back into the foilage.
'I can see you Mione,' said Charlie, as he appeared from behind one of the large trees. 'Don't even think about trying to disappear.'
Those words only caused her to pause for a moment. And then the photo inside the blue book appeared before her eyes, and she remembered.
No, she was not at her best at the moment. If any of her Comforts realised what she had seen…
Hermione shook her head slightly.
They couldn't.
'Mione,' said Charlie, 'I am not in the mood to go chasing after you. I've just spent the last two hours patrolling around the house to make sure that Bill doesn't backtrack, I am not adding having to storm after you to my day.'
Yet those words had lost their power.
Hermione didn't fear Charlie. She didn't fear the aftermath of Charlie's anger if he did have to chase after her. Even though she knew it would hurt him.
That it would prick at his belief of keeping her here.
That her Comforts could look after her, without interference of anyone else.
'Mione!' said Charlie, and for the first time, the Tone he usually reserved for Bill entered his voice. It was the one he used when Bill was trying to assert the Wolf and doing so would hurt the rest of the group. 'I am not the only one out here! Oli is the only one in the house!'
And with the sharpness of his voice, he would undoubtedly cause the rest of her Comforts to slowly circle around until they had her and Charlie completely surrounded.
Now she didn't have the choice. Now the powers to his words had returned, and Hermione knew that she would have to listen.
Especially as the Tone was in his voice.
Hermione gave a soft sigh, hoping that it was low enough that Charlie didn't hear.
'I simply wished for a few moment's alone,' Hermione said, pausing but refusing to turn around.
Hermione knew that her emotions were showing plainly in her eyes. It might soften Charlie's Tone, but it would start her Comfort's worry all over again.
She couldn't have that.
Better to not let Charlie know how much his Tone was needling at her emotions. Making it worse.
Though, it was her fault in the first place.
'You aren't allowed to be left alone,' said Charlie.
The Tone was still there, but it had lessened.
She wasn't fooling Charlie.
'I just wanted a few moment's to myself,' said Hermione.
She knew that almost a childish tone had entered her voice. She knew that she sounded like a whiny four year-old.
But it hid her ripped emotions of what the photo caused her.
'Not until you prove to us that you are better,' said Charlie.
She could feel him slowly move up to her.
'I am,' she said.
Charlie gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
'Your nap proved that you aren't,' he said.
He gave her shoulder a little squeese before moving into her personal space. And then she could feel his chest inches from her back.
She could smell his natural scent in her nostrils.
As always, he smelt of the logs he took great pleasure in splitting for their living room fireplace. He smelt safe.
He smelt like family.
Just like the rest of her Comforts.
She knew that if he wrapped his arms around her, she wouldn't be able to stop him. She wouldn't want to stop him.
'My dream wasn't hurtful,' said Hermione.
Charlie stepped closer, his arm sliding down so that he could wrap it underneath her breasts before giving her a little squeese. His other hand rested on her hip.
And burying his nose into her hair, he breathed in.
'You wouldn't wake up,' said Charlie.
'Because I was dreaming,' said Hermione.
He nuzzled just behind her ear.
Sometimes, the rest of her Comforts picked up the motions a Wolf would enact on the members of their Pack.
'I was alright,' whispered Hermione.
'We didn't know that, Mione,' said Charlie. 'All we knew was that you weren't waking up.'
Hermione gave a soft sigh.
'I was remembering,' she said.
'Remembering?'
His grasp of her became slightly harder, as he pulled her into his chest and nearly wrapped his body around hers. And Hermione let him, resting her head just underneath his chest.
'Maybe I'll tell you one day,' said Hermione.
She could feel slight tension errupt through his body, before it was released. She had obviously shaken him. That was not what Charlie was expecting.
She rarely gave them the benefit of explaining what was in her mind.
'Maybe,' said Charlie, before he used his hip to slightly push her head, 'but first we need to get sme food for our cupboards.'
'I thought we recently bought more supplies?' said Hermione.
She could have sworn that during the entire argument, the second one, between the twins had brought up the food situation. And hadn't Charlie…
'We did' said Charlie, 'but we ran out a few essentials.'
Hermione could feel her right eyebrow rise slightly.
'Those essenitals better not have anything to do with comfort food?' she muttered.
A soft, low chuckle.
'They have to do with extras,' said Charlie.
'No,' said Hermione, pushing out her feet so that Charlie couldn't nudge her any further. 'There is no need.'
Charlie gently kissed the top of her head.
'There is great need for the entire group,' he said.
'Not for me,' said Hermione.
She refused to have more food shoved down her throat because just because the group believed she needed comfort food. That was what those extras were, comfort food.
They were what used to be used as bargaining tools between fighter groups. Foods that were hard to come by for the fighters, and therefore precious.
Especially, according to the males, when dealing with women.
Hermione gulped.
But she had hardly any exerience of that, as she had been gone by the time this new negotiating tool had appeared. And by the time she had returned… By that time, her Comforts refused to let her know what lengths they went to in order to try and improve her mood.
It was only later, she did. But by then it was too late. Her Comforts knew how much the extras helped, and therefore refused to listen to any of her arguments.
Hermione couldn't do anything about it.
'You are not the only one,' said Charlie softly. 'Bill needs a little pick-me-up.'
Hermione sighed.
'You don't need me to pick out the extras,' she said.
Charlie snorted.
'We need you away from Bill,' he said, 'especially with your mood.'
'There is nothing wrong with my mood,' said Hermione.
'Don't lie,' said Charlie.
'I'm not,' said Hermione.
A pause.
'Would you rather he learn that you have had a setback and disappeared from the house for over two hours?' said Charlie, 'when he is in a mood?'
Hermione gave a little sniff.
'He will find out sooner if you don't come with us,' said Charlie. 'Despite my warning, he will venture back to the house while we are gone. Do you want to be there?'
'I'll be keeping out of his way,' said Hermione.
'He'll smell it on you, Mione,' said Charlie. 'He'll know.'
He gave her another squeese before re-arranging his weight so that he could once again move her foreward. Before she could protest, Hermione found herself walking towards a small clearing where undoubtedly Fred, George and Lee would be waiting.
The clearing always served as a meeting point if the house was out.
'This is for you best, Mione,' said Charlie. 'I know you hate it, but you need to stay away from him for a while, and that will mean coming with us.'
Hermione gave a slight shake of her head, but she didn't protest any further. He had her there, and he knew it.
'How long?' she said.
'Probably a few hours,' said Charlie. 'It will take Bill a while to cool off.'
It always did.
And Bill seemed to be getting worse, if yesterday and today were anything to go by. She hadn't noticed the changes yesterday, sometimes she was too consumed by herself, and by midmorning today, Bill had already been kicked out of the house.
That wasn't good.
'And you,' said Charlie.
He was probably trying to say that under his breath, but Hermione heard him loud and clear.
With a soft grumble, Hermione found herself breaking through waist-high bushes and into the clearing. And as she had expected, the other three were there. Fred was leaning against the lone tree that grew off to the side of the circle of bushes, with George only a few steps to the right of him, tossing a baggy, dark green hoodie from hand to hand. Or at least trying to.
He had to keep his hands pretty close to each other in order to keep the hoodie from uncrumpling and falling to the ground.
And Lee.
Hermione felt her mouth ever so slightly twitch.
Lee was falling back into the attitude he, Fred and George used to always personify. There was that damn half-smirk on his face, an annoying twinkle in his eye and the shifting of his shoulders side to side as he murmured some song to himself. He certainly was keeping his singing low, especially upon noticing Hermione.
Yet still, somehow, Hermione could almost swear that Lee was singing 'Doo a Diddy, Diddy Dum Diddy Doo.'
Actually, she was sure of it.
Hermione gave a low growl.
She knew that she should never have taught any of them that song.
She swore that it was all down to a moment of madness. That was what it had to be. Momentary madness.
She certainly couldn't have taught it to them for any other reason.
She valued her eardrums. And her sanity. And her peace of mind.
And almost certainly she had a sense of sympathy for any herself or any of her Comforts might bump into.
'There she was, just-a walking down the street,' said Lee in a louder tone.
And before Hermione could glare at him-
'Singing Doo a Diddy, Diddy Dum Diddy Doo!' added George, as the two's deep voices bounced off the trees.
It was only then that Hermione managed to give them one of her full, piercing glares, though neither seemed to be particlarly affected by it. Instead of looking bashful, or in any way apologetic for what they knew they were doing to Hermione, she received full-blown smiles.
'Clapping her hands, and shuffling her feet!' said George and Lee, deciding to actually yell out the words now instead of singing. 'Singing Doo a Diddy, Diddy Dum Diddy Doo!'
And they were even doing the accompanying gestures.
Hermione was feeling the anger in her rise.
They were doing it on purpose! She knew it!
Those bastards!
'Enough!' cut in Charlie.
He shot the two of them warning looks, ones that were sobering enough to stop them from continuing the song any further.
But it did nothing to their grins.
Or the sparks in their eyes.
'We've got a few hours before busy hour will start in town,' said Charlie, his voice gentler this time. 'So, if everyone has an idea of what they wish to purchase, as I am not making a second trip, or letting any of you try to, we can head out now.'
George and Lee just laughed.
Hermione shook her head.
She didn't want to know. She didn't.
