Discovering Fan Fiction
Chapter 2: Introduction to Hermione's Daily Muggle Life
Disclaimer: Not mine, none of it. I would claim the plot, but I feel that the voices own that.... I do whatever they tell me to anyway...
Disclaimer to the disclaimer: I don't think you were supposed to know that, about the voices. Disregard that.
A/N: Thank you to the lovely people who've reviewed part one. And this is another intro into ffnet, so another cliffhanger....Not really, but I can pretend. Sorry, they don't discover the site in this episode, but the next probably. I just had sudden inspiration for some scenes in here, so naturally I had to include them. After reading the stories, I don't think these scenes could have happened.
And thus,
The Story!
"Welcome! You must be Harry!" Right after Harry, Ron, and Ginny had reached the door, it was flung open by the woman Hermione had obviously inherited her bushy hair from.
"Er," was all that Harry managed to get out before being swept into a hug. Gasping for breath, he looked up to see Mrs. Weasley, who had just released him.
"We just got here ourselves, with the kids. Harry! Oh, I'm so glad you could come to stay! And to have Ron, Fred, George, Hermione, and Ginny here with you...." Here Mrs. Weasley dabbed at her moistened eyes, "Well, anyway, it must be much better than the Dursleys'."
"Yes, yes, it is, thank you," Harry told Mrs. Weasley. Turning back to Mrs. Granger, he said, "And thank you for having me. I don't know how I would have lasted the summer without escape from the Dursleys."
"Mum, why don't I show everyone to their rooms?" Hermione proposed, coming into the entrance hall.
"Spiffing."
"Fred, George! Come on, if you want any place to sleep!" Hermione yelled out, then to Harry, Ginny, and Ron, added, "If they don't get here soon, maybe I'll put them in the basement with Crookshanks."
Laughing, the four ascended the stairs, the thumping footsteps of the twins following directly.
"This is my room. Ginny, you can stay in here with me. I have two twin beds," Hermione took on the role of tour director as Ginny stowed her bags within the doorway of the room that still remained out of view to Harry.
"This is the bathroom," the door next to Hermione's as they passed down the hallway, "and here is the guest room, for you guys..." Hermione's voice trailed off as she inexplicably blushed.
Ron was the first into the room. With an "eep," he came out a moment later. Wondering, Harry went in as soon as Ron had cleared the doorway. Fred and George piled into the room right after Harry, and nearly plowed into him when he'd stopped dead.
One king sized bed dominated the room. It had a pink, flowered comforter and matching, lacy pillowcases. One cot was placed on the floor next to the bed.
In one motion, all three heads turned to Hermione, whose attention was presently turned to a door across the hall, examining a rather plain doorknob with such rapt interest that one would think it a treasured antique. Still slightly pink, she turned back to them.
"My grandmother normally is the only one who stays over. And, er," here she went pink again, then spit out her next words rather quickly, "we only have one cot and one couch, so two of you will have to share the bed."
All four boys' heads turned to one another, and next instant, Harry found himself in the middle of the pileup that had landed on top of the cot. Grumbling, they all got off to see who'd gotten there first. Ron lay grinning on the cot.
"Guess I'll sleep here, then," he said cheekily, in a perfect imitation of the twins.
A sudden noise distracted the other three boys from their intended plan, which had been pouncing on Ron. Ginny was supported by the doorframe, convulsed in giggles. Hermione hid her laughs behind her hand.
Laughing harder, Ginny looked the three who'd not gotten the cot as straight in the eye as she could and said, "Right then. Ron's got the cot. Who gets the couch?"
Rather than pounce on Ron, Fred, George, and Harry darted down stairs rather haphazardly, where Fred ran straight into his mother's arms, and Harry into a wall. George leapt onto the couch with the air of victory about him.
"Fred?" Mrs. Weasley asked, stunned, holding her son out at arm's length and examining him.
"Mum! George's got the couch now!"
Here, Mrs. Granger began laughing. "'Mione, you showed the boys the guest room?" Hermione giggled in response, and both mothers also joined in the laughing.
"That means I have to share a bed with him!" Fred and Harry yelled out in unison, Harry rubbing his forehead where it had hit the wall.
By this time, Ron had also ambled downstairs, and Mr. Granger and Mr. Weasley into the room. Everyone had heard the last comment and burst out into laughter at the two slightly pink-tinged boys who were pointing at each other.
~*~
Three hours later, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had left, after wishing their children, Harry, and Hermione a wonderful summer. They said that they would return most likely on Harry's birthday, and for certain a week before September 1, in order to take everyone to Diagon Alley to get their school things.
"Dinner time, children!" Mrs. Granger called from the kitchen.
Ron and Harry went downstairs; they were the only visitors who had finished unpacking, and Hermione was still showing Fred and George how the Muggle shower worked, for in the morning. When they got there, Mrs. Granger explained that in their house, everyone helped out with dinner. Spying Harry first, she handed him a stack of plates and silverware, and pointed him towards the table.
"Dear, dear, I've forgotten mashed potatoes!" Mrs. Granger mumbled to herself.
As Ron walked towards Harry to help set the table, she grabbed his arm and looked at him. "Ron, would you help with mashed potatoes?"
"Sure."
"Thank you! We haven't enough time left for me to prepare homemade ones, so I'm going to have to resort to the instant ones Hermione likes so much. They're the Boston Market boxes in the 'fridge."
"Er, the fridge?"
"Oh dear! You're quite right, they're in the freezer!" Mrs. Granger told him, thinking he'd been surprised that frozen food had been in the refrigerator.
Harry looked up from the place setting he was working on and pointed to the upper half of the big white refrigerator, grinning at Ron's confused expression that he reserved for all things Muggle.
Ron took the hint and pulled on the handle to the freezer. When it schlucked open and spewed cold air out, he jumped back in alarm. Mrs. Granger looked curiously over to him, but he was determined not to show his Muggle ignorance. He regrouped and looked inside this mystery cube. Eventually, he found the boxes and pulled them out.
"Lovely," said Mrs. Granger, looking over and seeing that he had them. "Now, just read the directions and," here she glanced at her watch, "put them in the microwave. We haven't enough time left to use the oven...Where are the others, anyway?"
Even as she said that, Fred and Ginny bounded downstairs and into the kitchen. Fred was grinning evilly, and Ginny was, once again, giggling madly.
A moment later, Harry found out why.
"Fred!!!!" The angry, yet somehow amused, shout echoing downstairs could only have originated from George.
"George, get back here, I've found the towels! ...George!" That would be Hermione.
But a moment later, George appeared in the kitchen as suddenly as if he'd Apparated in. His normally ruddy red hair was now a drenched ginger that blended perfectly with his -also drenched- green sweater. A look that was a cross between amusement and anger that came off as ridiculous was etched on his face.
"So, you learned how to use the shower then, I take it?" Ron asked amusedly and perfectly innocently.
"Ga!" yelled George and flicked his fingers to sprinkle excess water at his brother. This startled Ron into dropping the frozen mashed potatoes onto his toe. When he sprung up as a reflex of the sudden pain, his flailing arm knocked Ginny, who'd been hovering nearby, into Harry, who fell into a chair with Ginny landing on his lap.
At that particular moment, Hermione walked into the kitchen. Her eyes scanned the scene: Ron jumping up and down, holding onto his left foot, mashed potato boxes at his feet, Ginny on Harry's lap (here a slight scowl crossed her face), George now chasing Fred around the small kitchen, and her mother looking sadly at the new linoleum floor, now complete with giant sopping wet spot. She couldn't keep from laughing.
Spotting his new target, Fred grinned wickedly. An identical grin caught on George's soaked face.
Laughing even harder than Ginny (who was now getting up from Harry's lap, with a scarlet face), Hermione let herself be splenched with water from both twins. An inexplicable scowl crossed Ron's face as he stopped hopping madly about, his toe pain now under control. Harry caught Ron's expression and sent a grin towards his friend, who reddened in response. If that was how it was going to be, ...
Hands on her hips, Mrs. Granger wore an expression similar to the one that Hermione wore whenever Ron or Harry proposed rule breaking. "Ahem" All parties involved looked guiltily up towards the matron of the house. "If we've finished, how about we finish preparing dinner? You and you," she pointed out the twins, "I don't trust in my kitchen. Get the towels 'Mione found for you and clean that," she pointed at the puddles "up. Ron, make those potatoes. The microwave is right there," she pointed once again. " 'Mione, make sure nothing gets blown up. And, dear," here she lowered her voice so everyone else had to strain to hear what they weren't supposed to (but did anyway), "you might want to change your shirt. I wouldn't suggest white this time..." she cleared her throat and spoke normally again as Hermione walked upstairs, red again. "Harry, the table. Ginny, why don't you pour out drinks for everyone. Lovely. I'll go feed Crookshanks. Don't make a mess!" After her speech, Mrs. Granger walked out of the kitchen in as dignified a manner as she could muster when she was about to burst out laughing herself.
Now free from his act of Muggle-awareness, Ron leaned over to Harry and asked how to use the microwave.
"Ron, read the instructions on the box. How long does it say?"
"Five to seven minutes."
"On?"
"Medium?"
"Set the timer, there..... No, that's the clock...yes, set that for five minutes. And that switch there to medium."
"Ok!"
"Ron."
"What?"
"Take it out of the box."
"Oh."
"Wait!"
"What?"
"Does it say anything else?"
"Peel back a corner." He did.
"Good."
* Beep *
"Ron."
"What?"
"That was five seconds."
"Oh."
Figuring that Ron would probably get it now, Harry went back to setting places at the table. Ginny followed him from setting to setting, filling the glasses with cranberry juice. They worked peacefully, all three of them, for about ten minutes. When Harry realized that, he turned to Ron.
"Ron."
"What?"
"You set it to five minutes, right?"
"Yeah."
"It's been ten."
"Oh."
"Oh, Ron!"
"What, Ginny?"
"It's not supposed to smoke like that!"
"How do you know? Stuff that mum cooks smokes all the time!"
"She doesn't use a microwave!"
"So...I should turn it off?"
"YES." From both Harry and Ginny.
"Oh."
"What!?" Hermione reappeared in the kitchen (wearing a black shirt, this time. A black spaghetti strap tank top that clung...no, just a black shirt) wearing a terrified expression that reflected in her tone of voice.
"Just a little smoke..." Ron now sounded very guilty, but Harry did notice that his eyes bugged out just a little bit when Hermione entered the room...
"Ginny, would you open the window? I only hope it clears out before my mum comes back...Harry, light that candle there, on the table!" Hermione looked about as worried as she did when Professor McGonagall could possibly catch them stepping out of line.
"Oh!"
"Now what, Ron?"
"Er, the potatoes seem to have exploded."
Plugging his nose, Harry walked forward to examine the damage in the microwave. It looked like some of the ingredients for potions normally did: unidentifiable and splattered. Making the mistake of unplugging his nose (to breathe), Harry took in some of the rank fumes coming out of the small box.
"RON!" Hermione yelled, rushing forward.
"Uh..."
"Quickly, help me clean this! Grab the sponge!"
By the light up in Ron's eyes, Harry knew that Ron knew what a sponge was. Ron went over to the sink, picked one up, and carried it back to the microwave.
~*~
Twelve minutes later, the microwave was completely free of mashed potatoes. The smoke, however, decided to hang around...to linger just long enough for...
"What happened in here?" Mrs. Granger gave a dead-on impersonation of Professor McGonagall (without realizing it, of course), and Harry was immediately reminded of why he'd thought Hermione had been acting out of fear of their Transfiguration teacher.
"It's all right, mum, Ron just had never used a microwave before. He put it in for too long. ...We don't need potatoes anyway. Look, the table's all ready, and the floor is dry. Let's eat, shall we?" Hermione sat and gave meaningful looks to Harry and Ron, who each took a seat on either side of her.
"Well..." with a dubious expression and a shrug, Mrs. Granger sat down, too.
After the whole microwave fiasco had cooled down (and been explained to Mr. Granger, who needed the cooling down), dinner was a very enjoyable affair, even without mashed potatoes. The meal was nearly as large as those Harry had had at the Burrow the summers before. Mrs. Granger also seemed to think that eight dishes were necessary to the survival of people. Then again, there were five extra people at the table. And the Weasleys did prove to have very voracious appetites, so all was well. No food went to waste.
~*~
"Um..." Turning red, Hermione tightened her grip on her towel and ran towards the open door. "The bathroom is connected to both my room and the guest room!" she yelled to whichever boy had been unfortunate enough to have his knee slammed into by the door as it closed quickly and very unceremoniously. And then, to herself, "I forgot to lock the door!"
"Harry? What's up...?" Ron asked as he stepped into the guest room, where Harry was sitting on the bed, holding his knee and smiling stupidly.
Wiping the smile off his face, he told Ron that "Hermione forgot that people were staying in here. I tried to go into the bathroom, but I'd barely gotten the door open before this red creature in...in a towel jumped at the door. It banged my knee."
"Oh." The tips of Ron's ears tinged pink.
'Fine, if that's how it's going to be, ...' Harry thought to himself.
Just then, Ginny burst into the room (shocker) giggling.
"Well. Which of you was it?"
"What?"
"Nevermind," she said simply, spotting Harry with his hand still on his knee. "Hermione just told me to tell you that the bathroom is free now."
She left, and Ron shook his head and muttered something about "sisters" under his breath. Harry laughed.
"Children! I think you'd better get to bed now...you'll have a long day tomorrow!" Mrs. Granger called up the stairs.
" (Bleepity) " Harry muttered as Fred entered the room in his pajamas.
"Goodnight, sweetheart! Mwah!" Fred said in a voice an octave higher than his own, as he blew Harry what would have been a very sloppy kiss. "Which side of the bed do you want?"
"Goodnight." Harry said, simply, and rather simply, as he climbed into the left side of the bed.
As Ron chuckled in his cot (mental growl from Harry), he suddenly found himself the recipient of two well-aimed pillows.
A/N: What the fudgles was that all about? I don't know. Like I said, the voices.... Truth be told, while I was writing this, I was also on-line (reading other fanfic), and so somewhat distracted. It had to be done-I had to get them through the first night. I hope you found some type of twisted amusement in this. Please, Please, PLEASE review.
Thank you to absolutely EVERYONE who has reviewed part one. You don't know what it means to me - not a single flame! You're all so nice! Lying scoundrels, but nice! :)
Also, I know I made this part seem that both Ron and Harry like 'Mione, but I'm open to suggestions as to what this should be made, if I decide to make * ahem * anything happen...between certain someones...Your vote would help...include it in your REVIEW (hint, hint).
I feel so cheap!
Chapter 2: Introduction to Hermione's Daily Muggle Life
Disclaimer: Not mine, none of it. I would claim the plot, but I feel that the voices own that.... I do whatever they tell me to anyway...
Disclaimer to the disclaimer: I don't think you were supposed to know that, about the voices. Disregard that.
A/N: Thank you to the lovely people who've reviewed part one. And this is another intro into ffnet, so another cliffhanger....Not really, but I can pretend. Sorry, they don't discover the site in this episode, but the next probably. I just had sudden inspiration for some scenes in here, so naturally I had to include them. After reading the stories, I don't think these scenes could have happened.
And thus,
The Story!
"Welcome! You must be Harry!" Right after Harry, Ron, and Ginny had reached the door, it was flung open by the woman Hermione had obviously inherited her bushy hair from.
"Er," was all that Harry managed to get out before being swept into a hug. Gasping for breath, he looked up to see Mrs. Weasley, who had just released him.
"We just got here ourselves, with the kids. Harry! Oh, I'm so glad you could come to stay! And to have Ron, Fred, George, Hermione, and Ginny here with you...." Here Mrs. Weasley dabbed at her moistened eyes, "Well, anyway, it must be much better than the Dursleys'."
"Yes, yes, it is, thank you," Harry told Mrs. Weasley. Turning back to Mrs. Granger, he said, "And thank you for having me. I don't know how I would have lasted the summer without escape from the Dursleys."
"Mum, why don't I show everyone to their rooms?" Hermione proposed, coming into the entrance hall.
"Spiffing."
"Fred, George! Come on, if you want any place to sleep!" Hermione yelled out, then to Harry, Ginny, and Ron, added, "If they don't get here soon, maybe I'll put them in the basement with Crookshanks."
Laughing, the four ascended the stairs, the thumping footsteps of the twins following directly.
"This is my room. Ginny, you can stay in here with me. I have two twin beds," Hermione took on the role of tour director as Ginny stowed her bags within the doorway of the room that still remained out of view to Harry.
"This is the bathroom," the door next to Hermione's as they passed down the hallway, "and here is the guest room, for you guys..." Hermione's voice trailed off as she inexplicably blushed.
Ron was the first into the room. With an "eep," he came out a moment later. Wondering, Harry went in as soon as Ron had cleared the doorway. Fred and George piled into the room right after Harry, and nearly plowed into him when he'd stopped dead.
One king sized bed dominated the room. It had a pink, flowered comforter and matching, lacy pillowcases. One cot was placed on the floor next to the bed.
In one motion, all three heads turned to Hermione, whose attention was presently turned to a door across the hall, examining a rather plain doorknob with such rapt interest that one would think it a treasured antique. Still slightly pink, she turned back to them.
"My grandmother normally is the only one who stays over. And, er," here she went pink again, then spit out her next words rather quickly, "we only have one cot and one couch, so two of you will have to share the bed."
All four boys' heads turned to one another, and next instant, Harry found himself in the middle of the pileup that had landed on top of the cot. Grumbling, they all got off to see who'd gotten there first. Ron lay grinning on the cot.
"Guess I'll sleep here, then," he said cheekily, in a perfect imitation of the twins.
A sudden noise distracted the other three boys from their intended plan, which had been pouncing on Ron. Ginny was supported by the doorframe, convulsed in giggles. Hermione hid her laughs behind her hand.
Laughing harder, Ginny looked the three who'd not gotten the cot as straight in the eye as she could and said, "Right then. Ron's got the cot. Who gets the couch?"
Rather than pounce on Ron, Fred, George, and Harry darted down stairs rather haphazardly, where Fred ran straight into his mother's arms, and Harry into a wall. George leapt onto the couch with the air of victory about him.
"Fred?" Mrs. Weasley asked, stunned, holding her son out at arm's length and examining him.
"Mum! George's got the couch now!"
Here, Mrs. Granger began laughing. "'Mione, you showed the boys the guest room?" Hermione giggled in response, and both mothers also joined in the laughing.
"That means I have to share a bed with him!" Fred and Harry yelled out in unison, Harry rubbing his forehead where it had hit the wall.
By this time, Ron had also ambled downstairs, and Mr. Granger and Mr. Weasley into the room. Everyone had heard the last comment and burst out into laughter at the two slightly pink-tinged boys who were pointing at each other.
~*~
Three hours later, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had left, after wishing their children, Harry, and Hermione a wonderful summer. They said that they would return most likely on Harry's birthday, and for certain a week before September 1, in order to take everyone to Diagon Alley to get their school things.
"Dinner time, children!" Mrs. Granger called from the kitchen.
Ron and Harry went downstairs; they were the only visitors who had finished unpacking, and Hermione was still showing Fred and George how the Muggle shower worked, for in the morning. When they got there, Mrs. Granger explained that in their house, everyone helped out with dinner. Spying Harry first, she handed him a stack of plates and silverware, and pointed him towards the table.
"Dear, dear, I've forgotten mashed potatoes!" Mrs. Granger mumbled to herself.
As Ron walked towards Harry to help set the table, she grabbed his arm and looked at him. "Ron, would you help with mashed potatoes?"
"Sure."
"Thank you! We haven't enough time left for me to prepare homemade ones, so I'm going to have to resort to the instant ones Hermione likes so much. They're the Boston Market boxes in the 'fridge."
"Er, the fridge?"
"Oh dear! You're quite right, they're in the freezer!" Mrs. Granger told him, thinking he'd been surprised that frozen food had been in the refrigerator.
Harry looked up from the place setting he was working on and pointed to the upper half of the big white refrigerator, grinning at Ron's confused expression that he reserved for all things Muggle.
Ron took the hint and pulled on the handle to the freezer. When it schlucked open and spewed cold air out, he jumped back in alarm. Mrs. Granger looked curiously over to him, but he was determined not to show his Muggle ignorance. He regrouped and looked inside this mystery cube. Eventually, he found the boxes and pulled them out.
"Lovely," said Mrs. Granger, looking over and seeing that he had them. "Now, just read the directions and," here she glanced at her watch, "put them in the microwave. We haven't enough time left to use the oven...Where are the others, anyway?"
Even as she said that, Fred and Ginny bounded downstairs and into the kitchen. Fred was grinning evilly, and Ginny was, once again, giggling madly.
A moment later, Harry found out why.
"Fred!!!!" The angry, yet somehow amused, shout echoing downstairs could only have originated from George.
"George, get back here, I've found the towels! ...George!" That would be Hermione.
But a moment later, George appeared in the kitchen as suddenly as if he'd Apparated in. His normally ruddy red hair was now a drenched ginger that blended perfectly with his -also drenched- green sweater. A look that was a cross between amusement and anger that came off as ridiculous was etched on his face.
"So, you learned how to use the shower then, I take it?" Ron asked amusedly and perfectly innocently.
"Ga!" yelled George and flicked his fingers to sprinkle excess water at his brother. This startled Ron into dropping the frozen mashed potatoes onto his toe. When he sprung up as a reflex of the sudden pain, his flailing arm knocked Ginny, who'd been hovering nearby, into Harry, who fell into a chair with Ginny landing on his lap.
At that particular moment, Hermione walked into the kitchen. Her eyes scanned the scene: Ron jumping up and down, holding onto his left foot, mashed potato boxes at his feet, Ginny on Harry's lap (here a slight scowl crossed her face), George now chasing Fred around the small kitchen, and her mother looking sadly at the new linoleum floor, now complete with giant sopping wet spot. She couldn't keep from laughing.
Spotting his new target, Fred grinned wickedly. An identical grin caught on George's soaked face.
Laughing even harder than Ginny (who was now getting up from Harry's lap, with a scarlet face), Hermione let herself be splenched with water from both twins. An inexplicable scowl crossed Ron's face as he stopped hopping madly about, his toe pain now under control. Harry caught Ron's expression and sent a grin towards his friend, who reddened in response. If that was how it was going to be, ...
Hands on her hips, Mrs. Granger wore an expression similar to the one that Hermione wore whenever Ron or Harry proposed rule breaking. "Ahem" All parties involved looked guiltily up towards the matron of the house. "If we've finished, how about we finish preparing dinner? You and you," she pointed out the twins, "I don't trust in my kitchen. Get the towels 'Mione found for you and clean that," she pointed at the puddles "up. Ron, make those potatoes. The microwave is right there," she pointed once again. " 'Mione, make sure nothing gets blown up. And, dear," here she lowered her voice so everyone else had to strain to hear what they weren't supposed to (but did anyway), "you might want to change your shirt. I wouldn't suggest white this time..." she cleared her throat and spoke normally again as Hermione walked upstairs, red again. "Harry, the table. Ginny, why don't you pour out drinks for everyone. Lovely. I'll go feed Crookshanks. Don't make a mess!" After her speech, Mrs. Granger walked out of the kitchen in as dignified a manner as she could muster when she was about to burst out laughing herself.
Now free from his act of Muggle-awareness, Ron leaned over to Harry and asked how to use the microwave.
"Ron, read the instructions on the box. How long does it say?"
"Five to seven minutes."
"On?"
"Medium?"
"Set the timer, there..... No, that's the clock...yes, set that for five minutes. And that switch there to medium."
"Ok!"
"Ron."
"What?"
"Take it out of the box."
"Oh."
"Wait!"
"What?"
"Does it say anything else?"
"Peel back a corner." He did.
"Good."
* Beep *
"Ron."
"What?"
"That was five seconds."
"Oh."
Figuring that Ron would probably get it now, Harry went back to setting places at the table. Ginny followed him from setting to setting, filling the glasses with cranberry juice. They worked peacefully, all three of them, for about ten minutes. When Harry realized that, he turned to Ron.
"Ron."
"What?"
"You set it to five minutes, right?"
"Yeah."
"It's been ten."
"Oh."
"Oh, Ron!"
"What, Ginny?"
"It's not supposed to smoke like that!"
"How do you know? Stuff that mum cooks smokes all the time!"
"She doesn't use a microwave!"
"So...I should turn it off?"
"YES." From both Harry and Ginny.
"Oh."
"What!?" Hermione reappeared in the kitchen (wearing a black shirt, this time. A black spaghetti strap tank top that clung...no, just a black shirt) wearing a terrified expression that reflected in her tone of voice.
"Just a little smoke..." Ron now sounded very guilty, but Harry did notice that his eyes bugged out just a little bit when Hermione entered the room...
"Ginny, would you open the window? I only hope it clears out before my mum comes back...Harry, light that candle there, on the table!" Hermione looked about as worried as she did when Professor McGonagall could possibly catch them stepping out of line.
"Oh!"
"Now what, Ron?"
"Er, the potatoes seem to have exploded."
Plugging his nose, Harry walked forward to examine the damage in the microwave. It looked like some of the ingredients for potions normally did: unidentifiable and splattered. Making the mistake of unplugging his nose (to breathe), Harry took in some of the rank fumes coming out of the small box.
"RON!" Hermione yelled, rushing forward.
"Uh..."
"Quickly, help me clean this! Grab the sponge!"
By the light up in Ron's eyes, Harry knew that Ron knew what a sponge was. Ron went over to the sink, picked one up, and carried it back to the microwave.
~*~
Twelve minutes later, the microwave was completely free of mashed potatoes. The smoke, however, decided to hang around...to linger just long enough for...
"What happened in here?" Mrs. Granger gave a dead-on impersonation of Professor McGonagall (without realizing it, of course), and Harry was immediately reminded of why he'd thought Hermione had been acting out of fear of their Transfiguration teacher.
"It's all right, mum, Ron just had never used a microwave before. He put it in for too long. ...We don't need potatoes anyway. Look, the table's all ready, and the floor is dry. Let's eat, shall we?" Hermione sat and gave meaningful looks to Harry and Ron, who each took a seat on either side of her.
"Well..." with a dubious expression and a shrug, Mrs. Granger sat down, too.
After the whole microwave fiasco had cooled down (and been explained to Mr. Granger, who needed the cooling down), dinner was a very enjoyable affair, even without mashed potatoes. The meal was nearly as large as those Harry had had at the Burrow the summers before. Mrs. Granger also seemed to think that eight dishes were necessary to the survival of people. Then again, there were five extra people at the table. And the Weasleys did prove to have very voracious appetites, so all was well. No food went to waste.
~*~
"Um..." Turning red, Hermione tightened her grip on her towel and ran towards the open door. "The bathroom is connected to both my room and the guest room!" she yelled to whichever boy had been unfortunate enough to have his knee slammed into by the door as it closed quickly and very unceremoniously. And then, to herself, "I forgot to lock the door!"
"Harry? What's up...?" Ron asked as he stepped into the guest room, where Harry was sitting on the bed, holding his knee and smiling stupidly.
Wiping the smile off his face, he told Ron that "Hermione forgot that people were staying in here. I tried to go into the bathroom, but I'd barely gotten the door open before this red creature in...in a towel jumped at the door. It banged my knee."
"Oh." The tips of Ron's ears tinged pink.
'Fine, if that's how it's going to be, ...' Harry thought to himself.
Just then, Ginny burst into the room (shocker) giggling.
"Well. Which of you was it?"
"What?"
"Nevermind," she said simply, spotting Harry with his hand still on his knee. "Hermione just told me to tell you that the bathroom is free now."
She left, and Ron shook his head and muttered something about "sisters" under his breath. Harry laughed.
"Children! I think you'd better get to bed now...you'll have a long day tomorrow!" Mrs. Granger called up the stairs.
" (Bleepity) " Harry muttered as Fred entered the room in his pajamas.
"Goodnight, sweetheart! Mwah!" Fred said in a voice an octave higher than his own, as he blew Harry what would have been a very sloppy kiss. "Which side of the bed do you want?"
"Goodnight." Harry said, simply, and rather simply, as he climbed into the left side of the bed.
As Ron chuckled in his cot (mental growl from Harry), he suddenly found himself the recipient of two well-aimed pillows.
A/N: What the fudgles was that all about? I don't know. Like I said, the voices.... Truth be told, while I was writing this, I was also on-line (reading other fanfic), and so somewhat distracted. It had to be done-I had to get them through the first night. I hope you found some type of twisted amusement in this. Please, Please, PLEASE review.
Thank you to absolutely EVERYONE who has reviewed part one. You don't know what it means to me - not a single flame! You're all so nice! Lying scoundrels, but nice! :)
Also, I know I made this part seem that both Ron and Harry like 'Mione, but I'm open to suggestions as to what this should be made, if I decide to make * ahem * anything happen...between certain someones...Your vote would help...include it in your REVIEW (hint, hint).
I feel so cheap!