AN: FINALLY! My writer's block is broken! Mostly, anyway. And I got time to write for the first time this week. School is in full swing, and I just got seriously busy. But here I am, happily writing away. So this was inspired by my own driving lessons. Ok, I know what you're thinking. Yes, I'm not exactly sixteen, but the reason why it's taken me this long to get my license is a very long and complicated one. Second, no I haven't crashed or anything like that. Instead, my dad told me his horror story about driving (he reversed into his garage door), and it made me want to write about one. Hee. Hey, why use your own pain if you can exploit that of your family and friends? Yeah, I'm so going to be the Lucas Scott/dude from October Road type of writer, that has a book that's really about their old friends with their names switched and whatnot. Hmmm ... wonder if Justine will be fooled if I change her into "Christine?" And Dan will so not be suspicious of "Sam." And Sweta ... will just have a new name.
Anons:
Ellen Finer – I sincerely hope it wasn't the Mountain Dew.
Natalia – Thanks. I will.
mimosa – Glad you enjoyed it. It's inspired by my younger cousins (the elder ones are breeding, you see), which can be right little terrors when they put their minds to it. I really like the idea, too, but I'm only doing it when this and one of my other fics is done, and if I feel like I have time in between classes.
Two chapters left!
Disclaimer: Really, I'm J.K. Rowling. Couldn't you tell?
Ron really didn't know how he got himself into these things. He really didn't. They'd just be having a nice conversation over breakfast before the kids were up, laughing and joking and poking at each other, gently enough that no one got angry but hard enough that things stayed interesting. Then he'd say something, some throw away comment that he didn't even think twice about. And she'd get that look in her eye. The one that told him that he'd poked just a little too hard, and she was about to poke back.
Or punch, as the case may be.
"I can Apperate, Hermione," Ron said as patiently as he could, his knuckles white as he gripped the leather steering wheel. "I told you I was sorry, anyway."
Hermione's face glowed back at him as she surveyed the small car eagerly. "Come on, Ron. It's a perfectly reasonable skill to have, even for a wizard. We don't have any other way to transport our children to places with no Floo."
Rolling his eyes, Ron grumbled, "You're only excited because you want to learn something new."
Hermione blinked at him. "Of course. What's wrong with that?"
"It's weird, Hermione," Ron informed her earnestly. "Most people hate learning new things."
"We aren't 'most people,' Ron," Hermione pointed out wryly, "unless you know other people who've done things like battle giant chess sets or break out prisoners that happen to be innocent or ..."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ron sighed irritably. "If we're so amazing, why do we have to learn things like driving? Why don't we get one of those nutters to do it for us? You know, that fan club thing?"
"Supporters of Amazing Heroes of War, you mean?" Hermione snorted. "They couldn't even come up with a proper name for their idiotic club. These are the people you want to trust with your life?"
Ron frowned at the dash unhappily. "No, I suppose not. So what do I do, then?"
Hermione's face lit up again at the idea of not only learning, but instructing. "First, you need to put the key into the ignition." Eagerly, she reached into the pocket of her jeans and pressed a tiny key with a plastic head into Ron's hand.
"What's an ingention?"
"An ignition, Ron," Hermione corrected, pointing at the keyhole by the wheel.
Ron shrugged and put the key in the hole. It fit well enough, but nothing happened.
"You have to turn it," Hermione supplied a moment later, as if stating the obvious.
He did so. Instantly, the engine roared to life, making the seat underneath him vibrate slightly. He'd never admit it, to either Hermione or his father, but it was sort of a miracle, how Muggles managed without magic. They were smarter than he gave them credit for, sometimes.
When he looked up, Hermione was giving him an odd look. "What?"
She shook her head, amused. "Didn't you do fly a car up to Hogwarts once?"
Ron shrugged again. "Yeah, when Fred and George had shown me what to do about a week before. It's been years since I last tried to work one of these things."
Hermione looked as if she wanted to laugh about it some more, but she apparently decided that she'd rather boss her husband around some more. "Now, just pull that lever down – yes, that's right – all the way down to D ... yeah, so just step down on the pedal to the right."
Ron pushed down – rather too hard, he decided later. The car lurched uncomfortably, then shot forward with surprising speed. Panicked, Ron cast a Shield Charm into the air in front of them. The car bounced off of it at an angle, sending the car flying off the pavement and into the dip in the hill just in front of their house. They rolled upward quickly; the back left tire touched the furthest stone on their walk for a brief moment. Then the car hurtled back down the hill, spitting grass and mud up on either side, then shuddered to a stop in the middle of the dip, the wheels still battling ferociously with the ground below them. Ron twisted the key and wrenched it out frantically. The motor died abruptly, leaving an odd silence.
Hermione turned to Ron, wide-eyed. Ron stared back, his chest heaving unnaturally fast.
Hermione snorted a little. Ron chuckled a bit. Hermione snickered, her hand covering her mouth. Ron bit his lip, his eyes dancing wickedly.
Then they were both laughing so hard that neither could see nor breathe, holding onto each other for support.
And, as Ron put it cheerfully, as they slugged up the hill, arms around each other, smoke curling up from the car left behind them, "It's not like I need to learn until Rose goes to Hogwarts, anyway."
AN: Short and long in coming, but it amused me, so hopefully it'll do the same for you. I brushed over the bit about Ron actually knowing how to drive because I can't imagine Hermione not being an absolutely perfect driver. And this scene seems so very Ron, doesn't it?
