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Chapter 11: Struck

Harry, Ron, and Hermione trudged up the winding staircase of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, each laden with numerous boxes and packages filled with the various knick-knacks needed to make the house more livable.

"You know your mum didn't need to give me all this stuff," Harry called over his shoulder to Ron. "I could get on fine by myself."

"You know how she is, Harry. She's already got her knickers in a knot over you moving here in the first place. The least she can do is completely furnish every room in your mansion and stock your ridiculously enormous fridge with delicious food that took her days to make," Ron replied, sounding muffled behind what appeared to be a stack of linens.

Harry and Hermione laughed. Despite the work, they were rather enjoying themselves, and in fact a somewhat silly mood had settled over the three of them.

"Yes, I do suppose Molly went a bit overboard," Hermione said. "But she's only doing it because she cares about you, Harry."

"Well, either way I'm going to insist that I pay her back for all this," Harry said.

"You know Mum would never take your money, mate."

"I'll find a way to do it," Harry said. "Slip it in her sock drawer or something." "You're going to slip literally dozens of Galleons into her sock drawer?" Hermione asked.

"Think she'll notice?" Harry said.

The trio had now reached Sirius' old room, which was now to be Harry's. Ron dropped his burdens unceremoniously on the floor, threw himself onto the bed, and crossed his arms behind his head.

"So now that the men's work is done—" he began, and then received a blow across the head with an overstuffed pillow, courtesy of Hermione.

"Hey! What was that for?!" Ron exclaimed, rubbing his head sourly.

"You know exactly what that was for, you chauvinistic pig! Get your lazy arse off that bed and helping us bring the rest of the boxes up here! At this rate, we'll be doing this for hours!" Hermione yelled.

A thought suddenly occurred to Harry.

"It just struck me," he said. "Why didn't we just use our wands? We've been at this for a good hour or so…"

Hermione's face suddenly became expressionless. She turned her gaze to Harry.

"I don't… know," she said slowly.

"Seems like the sensible thing to do, doesn't it? It would only take a few seconds."

Hermione was quiet for a few moments.

"And this only just struck you?" she said through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, it did," Harry said, seeming rather proud of himself.

"Well let me know if anything else strikes you," Hermione said, picking up a small but heavy-looking bust from the bedside table and raising it above her head.

"Hermione," Harry said mock-seriously, "you don't want to do this. Put the bust down, and step away from the table."

"Boy, oh boy, Harry. I just don't know," Hermione said in a funny accent, one Harry suspected to be from some old movie he had never seen.

They continued this banter for several more seconds, before Ron, who had remained sitting on the bed, interjected.

"Hey, Hermione—can I see your bust?"

Hermione swung her head towards Ron, a reproachful look on her face. Harry took the opportunity to tackle her to the bed, and promptly began to tickle her ferociously.

"No, no, stop, stop!" Hermione cried between giggles, but Harry was relentless. "Geroffme, geroffme!"

"Hey, that's my line!" Ron exclaimed.

"Stop, stop, geroffme, geroffme!" Hermione laughed once more, and Harry ended his assault. She sat up immediately and proceeded to straighten her clothes in a businesslike manner. "Yes, Ronald, I did steal your 'line,' and it's rather ridiculous, don't you think?"

Ron got a shocked look on face, before shaking his head and turning to Harry.

"Harry, we've tolerated this problem for seven years. Seven! I think it's time we deal with this little 'problem' once and for all."

And with that Ron stood, walked up to Hermione (who was looking at him with a suspicious glare), and lugged her over his shoulder. He looked back over at Harry, who gave a solemn nod of approval, and began to approach the balcony outside of the bedroom.

Hermione got a panicked look on her face as she realized where Ron was walking and began thrashing around, pounding her fists on his back furiously. "Let me go, you git! This isn't funny, you know I hate heights! Let me go! LET ME GO!" she squealed at the top of her lungs.

"Never could get this one quiet," Ron yelled over Hermione's screams.

"Harry, you have to help me, please! This bloody lunatic is going to end up dropping me over this balcony, and when I die, I swear to Merlin that I'll come back as a ghost and haunt the living daylights out of both of you for eternity! Get me down!"

"Wait!" Harry suddenly exclaimed, his arms stretched out dramatically to Hermione.

Ron turned back to Harry (knocking Hermione's head against the doorway as he did so) with a rather annoyed and bored look on his face.

"Yes?" he said politely.

"You can't do this to Hermione. Not now!" he cried.

Hermione looked incredibly relieved, real tears shining in her eyes.

"Oh Harry, I knew you'd help me!" Hermione said.

"Of course I would, Hermione. You know I need something from you."

Hermione looked confused. "And what would that be? Loyalty? Friendship? Wisdom?"

"No. Not any of that junk. What I do need is that book I loaned you last week."

Hermione's face fell.

"You're saving me for a book?" she whispered, seeming rather proud and upset at the same time.

"No, no, of course not! Who said I was saving you? I'm just… halting the inevitable," Harry said. "Anyway, the book is sort of part of a set that I received from someone very near and dear to my heart, and I'd hate to lose it."

"I gave you that set!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Oh. I must have been thinking of a different set. Never mind," Harry said, and with a flick of his wrist waved for Ron to continue.

Ron nodded, and Hermione commenced her screaming once more. As he neared the edge, Harry called out again.

"Wait! Ron… do you really think this is necessary? She has been a bit useful these past few years."

"That's exactly it, Harry. Has been useful. You-Know-Who is dead. We don't need her anymore."

Harry got a thoughtful look on his face and stroked his chin as Hermione glared at him furiously. "Well… when you put it that way. Carry on."

Ron nodded one last time at Harry, and winked conspicuously. Harry responded with an evil grin of his own. Ron raised Hermione higher as he stepped outside.

Hermione was really starting to look panicked now.

"Okay, this was all well and fun before, but I'm actually getting worried here—what are you—"

And with that he promptly tossed her over the edge. As Hermione hurtled to the ground, Harry turned on the spot, and appeared on the balcony below her. He reached out over the balcony's edge, and Hermione immediately fell into his arms. He pulled her towards him, and she clutched his neck, shaking and whimpering.

"Oh-thank-god-oh-thank-god-oh-thank-god," Hermione squeaked, tremors racking her body.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

"I think so," Hermione said shakily as she was set on her feet, but her grip on him was still strong. She took a few more shaky breaths, and then looked up at Harry, her eyes shining.

"Harry, I—I—I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"

She then planted her fist solidly into his gut. Harry keeled over as Hermione walked swiftly past him and into the house. Hermione stopped at the doorway, and turned around, a smug look on her face.

"I guess something did strike you, didn't it?"