Title: fish hooks in the corners of their mouths
Category: Books » Harry Potter
Author: deletrear
Language: English, Rating: Rated: T
Summary: "Monachopsis: The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place." ... Not entirely accurate, but it'll do for describing the situation. People swallow that explanation easier than: 'I died once, but it's okay! I got better!' [SI OC, Black!OC, Marauders Era]
Dedication: This chapter and all the ones following it go out to everyone who's made it this far with me. Thanks.
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15.
fish hooks in the corners of their mouths
the one where callidora keeps spiders around for her plants
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Ron Weasley loved his best friend. He loved him like a brother. They were neighbours and had been childhood friends since they were nine. His family was Harry's family and Harry's family was his. There was a trust, a history, a connection between them that could not be undermined by fate or the horrors of public boarding school. Whatever it was these two boys shared, it was unbreakable.
That said, you could not drag him through Harry's front door if you paid him in gold class Chudley Cannon tickets.
Hermione was starting to look impatient. For other people, her immense impatience would be an indication of how frustrating Ron's continued hesitance was. Thing was, Hermione wasn't just any other person. In fact, her temper was rather infamous among her year level; it was also feared by her two closest friends. Truthfully, the duo had only been in front of the house for about ten seconds.
Still, her foot began to tap. "It's a spider, Ronald. It's perfectly harmless!"
"It's humongous!"
"It isn't going to hurt you! Oh, for goodness sake, I hope Harry isn't watching us—what is his mother going to think? I can't make a bad impression on Pandora Lovegood!"
Hermione was in love with Harry's adoptive mother. She'd been in awe of Pandora since she first read about the blood traitor in one of her many history books. Pandora Lovegood (née Travers) was renowned for introducing muggle science to the wizarding world. Her magazine, The Lovegood, attempted to integrate this knowledge into the wizarding community in the simplest, most unobtrusive way possible. On top of that, Pandora Lovegood had a notorious hatred for Divination studies.
It was no wonder the bushy-haired muggle born was in love with her.
Ron, on the other hand, had once walked in on Aunt Pandora in the bathroom when he was seven. She had screamed so loudly he'd gone dizzy. Before he could regain his bearings, he had one Aunt Pandora impatiently telling him to 'please get out, Ronald, I do not need an audience-' and a Callidora Black laughing herself into a coma, gently leading him away from the bathroom.
Ron didn't care how many times the Ministry rewarded Pandora Lovegood with an award and a ball because of her astounding advancements in magic — once you walked in on someone in the bathroom, you couldn't worship them.
"I'm not going through that door."
"Ron!"
"Hermione!" Ron mocked, taking a few steps backwards to make his point. Even ten feet from the front garden he could still see a large, hairy spot hanging in the right corner of the doorway. He could hear Harry'a voice, fresh even after all these years:
'Holy—Harry, mate, is that a — a — a —'
'A... what, exactly? Oh, him? That's Cal's spider.'
'You—you can't have a spider for a pet!'
'Technically, we don't? Cal says he's more of a "pro-tec-tion de-tail." You can't hurt him, Ron. He guards the tomatoes. His name is Frank, if you're wondering.'
Frank had been guarding the tomatoes going on four years now. He'd lived far too long by Ron's reckoning, and he was sure it was because Frank extended his life by sapping a bit of Ron's from him every time they met up. It was awful. Ron wished the bloody thing would just go and die already.
Hermione's face went pinker. She looked prepared to drag Ron through the front door by the scruff of his neck. Considering what he knew about Hermione, he didn't doubt that she would actually do it, which was unfortunate: Ron didn't want to go a millimeter closer to the door than he already was. Why did Frank have so many eyes? Ron wisely took another step back.
The witch had steam coming from her ears. "We're already late enough as it is—"
Oh, Merlin, another Granger Lecture? Ron groaned and covered his ears. For some reason, this only increased Hermione's ire, and she simply spoke louder.
"—IF YOU HADN'T WOKEN UP LATE WE COULD HAVE ARRIVED EARLIER AND I WOULDN'T MIND SO MUCH THE HOLD UP—"
"Blimey, Hermione," came the voice of Ron's god-sent saviour.
Harry stood at the side of the house, a great goofy smile on his face. He told Ron that he never got sick of having visitors. It was obvious that the novelty had yet to wear off, even after two long, long years of Ron's persistent visitations.
His best mate waved, cheeky. He looked healthy, which was a bloody relief. It was always nice to see that he hadn't gone and broken his nose just because Ron wasn't there to watch him for three days. Harry was a reckless, impulsive person—it had happened before. His mate continued, green eyes shining. "It's not like Ron refusing to come in through the front is news. We have a back door, you know."
Hermione flushed, now from embarrassment as opposed to anger. It was the lesser of evils, even though an embarrassed Hermione wasn't any less reactive than an angry one. Ron sent Harry a thumbs up as subtly as he could. Harry's smile grew, but he didn't return the thumb. Probably to avoid Hermione's attention.
"Oh, alright then. Hello, Harry."
"Hello, Hermione," Harry echoed, amused. That calm way of dealing with bemusing situations was something he inherited from his mum; the one that wasn't Pandora Lovegood, and also the one that Hermione was significantly less in love with. Callidora had that effect on people. "You're not really that late. Pandora hasn't noticed, if you're wondering."
Hermione huffed, nervously patting down her hair. "I noticed. Isn't that enough?"
"Guess so. Hey, Ron."
"Hiya, Harry!"
"Wanna come in? Luna's made sandwiches for you. Have to warn you though: some of them have some out there ingredients. She's been experimenting. If you don't like it, just hand it to me and I'll eat it. Just don't tell her they're gross."
Ron nodded, already aware of the procedures. As a direct contrast to his reaction, Hermione looked enraptured. He could practically see a quill scribbling away in her head. "Your sister experiments with food? How old is she?" Ah, there it was. The awe. No doubt Hermione was crediting Luna's experiments to her scientist mother.
Well, she wasn't wrong. But she wasn't entirely right, either.
"Ten. She goes to Hogwarts next year. You guys coming in? No spiders in the back entrance." Harry ran his fingers through his hair and shot a look at his red-haired best friend, whose ears were about the same fiery colour. "Cal keeps it clean for Ron."
Feeling defensive of his completely rational fear, the Weasley boy squirmed. "I don't like spiders, okay? What's wrong with that?" Plenty of things, Hermione's expression seemed to say. Harry just looked amused.
Whatever.
Who cared about their opinions anyway? Certainly not Ron! Luna would get it — she never mocked Ron for the spider thing. If his only support against the Boy Who Lived and the Brightest Witch Of Her Age was a ten-year-old aspiring spell inventor, then Ron was confident of his chances. Any friend of Ginny's was bound to be a force to be reckoned with, after all. Especially her best friend.
Hermione's stomach rumbled, interrupting Ron's ongoing internal monologue. She flushed heavily and cleared her throat, avoiding their eyes. "So... sandwiches?" There was a strange, hopeful tone to her voice that neither boy had ever heard from her before. It was almost shy.
Whatever it was going on inside her head, the Weasley boy didn't recognize it. Luckily, he didn't have to—Harry, somehow, knew exactly what the emotion on her face meant. His face softened. "Yeah, 'Mione. Come in. I already have our beds set up: we'll sleep in the same room for the entire holidays, I think."
Business as usual, at least on Ron's end of things. "Wicked!"
But Hermione looked as if she'd been given a most priceless gift. Her smile was resplendent. "Wicked," She echoed.
It was the happiest Ron had ever seen her.