Chapter Four
Fluffiness and a Daily Prophet Overview
When the kids walked out of Glee club, they saw a tall red-headed man running down the halls.
"Dude," said Finn, running to his seventh period class.
The redhead walked up to Puck and punched him in the face.
"Ow," said Puck, "what'd I do to you?"
"You leave my girlfriend alone," the redhead spat at him. "Where's Hermione?"
"Who?"
"Don't play stupid, Hermione Granger!"
"Oh, that Hermione."
"How many other Hermiones do you know, smart-ass?"
"Sixteen," said Puck smartly. The redhead punched him again. "Okay, okay, jeez. She's inside the choir room."
"The what room?" The redhead had clearly never heard that word before.
"Choir room." Puck pointed at it. "Right in front of your face. Can't miss it."
The redhead punched Puck for a third time (for being a smart-ass, again) before mumbling "Thanks" and running into the choir room.
"Hermione? Hermione Granger? Is that you?"
"Ron?" Hermione turned around in disbelief.
"Who are you?" Ron Weasley snapped at Rachel, who looked offended and removed the hand from Hermione's shoulder to hold it up to her mouth in shock.
"It's okay, Ron, she's my friend," said Hermione, running at the tall redhead and jumping into his arms and kissing him.
"I missed you," she murmured.
"I missed you more," he replied. "Actually, you're the lucky one. I mean, people have been attacking me almost as much as Harry."
"Er—should I leave?" asked Rachel.
"Only if you want to," answered Hermione, beaming. "How'd you get here?"
"It has hard. People kept jumping on me. They're really crazy." He shook his head, like, he couldn't believe how crazy these people were. "Some of them backed off when I told them I was seeing someone, but some of them didn't. Most just wanted my autograph. 'You're Harry Potter's best friend, you helped him kill You-Know-Who!'" he said, mocking them. "It's crazy." He shook his head again. "You're lucky to have been away from all that. 'Harry Potter couldn't have defeated You-Know-Who without you, you're like his sister, and you're so smart, and you always help him with his homework, and you're dating his best friend, blah, blah, blah!'" he mocked again. "Ginny's been hiding too, 'You're Harry's best friend's little sister, is it true he saved you from You-Know-Who's basilisk, and you're his girlfriend, and he's going to marry you…' you get it," he said, seeming to run out of ideas.
"You know, they've made it a national holiday," he said.
"Harry Potter Day?" Hermione guessed.
"The Ministry's still debating whether or not to call it 'Death of the Dark Arts Day' or 'Potter Day'," Ron answered. "I'm personally voting for 'Death of the Dark Arts Day', they have these things called comtupers—"
"I think you mean computers," Hermione corrected him.
"Yeah, those. You really are freaky smart," said Ron, looking scared.
"They're a muggle thing," Hermione explained, laughing as Ron's face melted to look relieved.
"Yeah," said Ron, "er… well, they have this thing called a wetmite—"
"Website?"
"Yeah, that, and you get to use this mouse thing that actually doesn't look like a mouse, and press a buddon…"
"…button…"
"…and on the comtupers, it actually clicks on the screen, and you get to choose whichever you want it to be called!" Then laughing, he added, "They should really just send Harry an owl and ask him what he wants it to be called."
"Or, if he doesn't want to, he can just ask us," Hermione suggested.
"Then it'll be called Death of the Dark Arts day for sure, right?"
"Yes!"
"Hello?" said Rachel, from a corner. "I'm still here…."
"May I ask," said Hermione, not noticing Rachel, "how you're planning to stay? Or… are you?"
"I confunded all of the teachers," said Ron, "and now I'm in all of your classes."
"Awesome!" said Hermione, beaming.
"You know, maybe I will leave," said Rachel, exiting and leaving the love struck witch and wizard alone.