Discovering Fan Fiction
Finishing Book One
Disclaimer: *cries*
A/N: Heh... oops. I've been a bit behind, eh? Thanks for asking, NYC was fun! (We saw Aida! So good!!!) After that, I had my sister's wedding in Boston (I was a bridesmaid!), and other assorted junk. I also had my in-cars, to finish up driver's ed. I'm done now! Yay. Last week my best friend's grandmother died, and this week is the last of school. With all that together, it's equaled me not being able to update since April. So, just to appease the masses, I'm skipping studying for my history and Spanish exams that I have tomorrow. Just for you. So there's my excuse/apology.
I'm going to have to finish this whole series before July. I'm going to Michigan June 15 (no computer), then I'm going to Britain (foreign exchange program) until mid-August. (I'm so excited!!!) I don't know if I'll have a computer there or not, so I'm just going to try and tie up these loose ends before I leave. Probably before I leave for Michigan. I'll try. Wish me luck!
Enjoy!
Dinner began as an enjoyable affair. Fish was the main course, lending credibility to George's sense of smell. Fred, having an identical nose, was dead-on about mashed potatoes being served. Ron was pink as they all sat around the table. He kept shooting furtive glances at the potatoes (Boston Market), as though they were going to stand up, do the cha-cha, and point and laugh at him for not being able to make them as well as Mrs. Granger could. Fortunately for the sanity of all gathered, they didn't.
"What did you kids do today?" asked Mr. Granger, who hadn't heard the made up story about Crookshanks and the washing machine that Harry had made up for his wife.
"Fred and I got stuck in a tree." George said.
"I got a splinter in m' bum." Fred muttered, looking sour.
"Must not have been very conducive to having fun," Mr. Granger observed with a smile in his words.
At this point, Ginny couldn't keep from laughing. No one got to stare at her incredibly loud outburst for very long, because just then a very loud BOOM could be heard from the upper floor. As a thin stream of smoke snaked its way downstairs, visible outside the entrance to the dining area, Mrs. Granger began to mutter nonsense words that sounded incredibly like vulgarities in another language. Hermione faced the twins with an expression of horror chiseled on her face and her hands on her hips. George smacked himself just hard enough on the head to force himself out of the chair and onto the floor. He didn't seem to mind, but sat cross-legged on the linoleum, hand still to his forehead.
"Forgot about the Wheezes!" He said. Fred looked at him blankly for a moment, then had the look of one with a light bulb just turned on. He helped his brother to his feet and the two of them sprinted out of the room and up the stairs, following the white mist lingering mid-air.
"Wheezes?" Mr. Granger wheezed, squeezing his wife's hand and managing to look both confused and outraged.
"Er," Harry tried.
"That is," Ron also quailed under the glare of the father of one of his best friends.
"The twins," Ginny gulped as the glare was directed at her.
"Irresponsible!" Hermione erupted, "They promised to not make the things while they were here! ...Oops."
"'Mione. What did you know about this?" Her father asked in a deadly quiet voice, accenting each word rather more than was necessary.
"They, er, make these... gag candies... and sell them at school... It, um, I told them not to make them here. They said they wouldn't. Guess not..." Hermione must have found the pattern on the tablecloth captivating; her eyes never left on square of it, her finger never stopped tracing the delicate fleur-de-lis.
"Probably Fred just told you that twice, made you think he was George, too. He does that." Ron said, trying to break the tension (even with the truth).
"Dinner's over. You six are not to leave the house tomorrow. I'll have Mrs. Fischer phone us at the office if you do. Unfortunately, Hermione, your father and I have a meeting and eight procedures only in the morning. Our afternoon is also booked solid. We will not be home before ten. All mess will be cleaned up and you all will be in bed when we arrive home, even if we decide to come home at three in the afternoon. Is that clear?" Mrs. Granger managed to say in English. She looked from one guilty, nodding face to the next, all round the table. Satisfied, she sent them all upstairs, not to be seen again awake by the Grangers until the day after the next.
Upstairs, the four of them gathered in Hermione's bedroom by silent agreement. The twins had not been seen since they'd run upstairs, and no one really wanted to see the guestroom quite yet, as the smoke was coming from around the frame of the closed door, seeping into the hallway.
"So..." Ginny tentatively broke the silence in the room, all the while shooting nervous glances at the door that connected to the common bathroom. "Erm, should we continue with, with... those?" she asked, the last word just audible as the quietest whisper as she pointed an unsteady hand in the general direction of the stack of seemingly innocent books heaped haphazardly in the corner.
"What about Gred and Forge?" Ron asked.
"It's their own fault if they miss it," Hermione replied haughtily.
"Well, they don't know most of it anyway, what's true of it," Harry said, ever the voice of reason.
"Harry's right," Ginny said.
"You always agree with Harry, Gin." Ron cracked a smile at his little sister and was rewarded with a pillow seemingly glued to his face. By the time Harry and Hermione peeled Ginny and the pillow off of Ron's (blue) face, the smoke had started to seep under the door to the bathroom. Whether Ginny's pinkness came from the struggle for strangling Ron or from flushed embarrassment from his words, no one could be sure.
"Excellent!" George's voice stopped them all in whatever movement they'd been making as effectively as a Stun.
"We've got it!" Fred echoed, standing triumphantly behind his twin, a piece of perfectly normal hard candy held in a fist raised jubilantly above his head.
"Nooo...." A collective groan filled the room.
"Yessssss!" Both Fred and George were quick to reply.
"What's this one do?" Ron asked timidly.
"Let's see!" Fred said, rushing up to Ginny, catching her by surprise, and tossing the brightly colored candy into her mouth. He held his hand over her lips so she wouldn't be able to spit it out. When he was sure that she had swallowed it, he let his hand up. Ginny looked at him, horrified, as though she knew what was coming. Three anxious and two excited faces stared at her expectantly.
"Erk! Harry!" Ginny seemed to be fighting the Imperius curse, and losing pitifully. This became closer to a correct assumption when she got jerkily up to her feet, eyes wide and pleading, and walked over to Harry. Catching everyone but the twins by complete surprise, Ginny planted her lips firmly on Harry's. A full minute later, the two separated. They were both extremely pink, and Ginny found the carpet suddenly engrossing, and Harry stared at the wall, fighting down a grin.
"It worked!" Fred and George laughed, high-fiving each other.
"But..." George began, suddenly sober, "She only should have kissed him for a second. It wasn't supposed to be so long..."
Ron looked about ready to punch Fred, George, and Harry, protective brother that he was. Hermione seemed to have forgotten all anger and instead looked gobsmacked, from one face to another.
"We call them Inkiboots!" Fred explained.
"Inkiboots?" Ron knew the routine well enough by now to know that he should just repeat the name of their new invention to have it explained.
"Inkiboots! It's an 'inky' method to get someone to kiss you, and a sure way to get 'booted' out of somewhere!" George said dramatically.
"Makes sense," Ginny mumbled, still horribly embarrassed.
"The book! Let's read the book!" Harry said suddenly, wanting to get the attention off of the Inkiboot candies.
"Sure!" Ginny was quick to agree, and soon everyone else was nodding agreeably, the twins nudging each other and smiling the smiles only they could smile.
"'Chapter Three, The Letters From No One,'" Harry read. "'The Brazilian boa constrictor incident earned Harry his longest ever punishment. By the time he was let back out...'" and so on.
Harry read clearly and loudly, to ensure that he wouldn't have to repeat anything-reading it once was bad enough. Hours later, his voice began to grow hoarse. Despite the sleepiness that was beginning to permeate the room, he refused to let up. He was determined to finish 'this blasted book' tonight.
"'Chapter 17, The Man With Two Faces... It was Quirrel.'" Harry began the final chapter to the gasps of the twins, who hadn't known everything there was to know about Quirrel. They'd looked shaky and very sober when he'd read the last chapter, detailing everything that he, Ron, and Hermione had gone through to get him to the Mirror of Erised.
By the time Harry finally closed the book, it was after midnight. For once, Hermione's parents hadn't cared about the late hour; they were probably still mad about the smoke (that had just within the last hour totally left the room) and the Wheezes. At least, Harry mused, they hadn't known about what this particular Wheeze-the Inkiboot-did. If they'd known... Well, Harry would just leave that to Mrs. Weasley, when she found out. She always found out about the plans of the twins, and this would likely not be an exception to the rule.
"Wow, Harry..." Ginny said. She also hadn't known all the details. Making sure to travel the whole complexion spectrum in one day, she'd turned chalk-white when Harry had read the fight with Quirrel and Voldemort. She'd almost passed out, until Harry'd hurriedly read to where Quirrel couldn't touch him. Hermione had given her a small Chinese paper fan to keep air circulated.
"So how much of that was true?" George asked, trying to get his normal cheeky inflection into the words.
"Actually, all of the last two chapters. Except Fluffy. He only had two heads."
"As though two heads are better than three," Ron muttered bitterly; the dog still gave him the shakes.
"But, the Devil's Snare? The Chess set? The Potions logic puzzle? Even those keys? Those weren't made up?" Fred was incredulous.
"No, no, I think she got those right," Harry said slowly, flipping through the book to find the exact passage.
"Does it matter?" Ron asked halfheartedly.
"Not reall-hey!" Hermione began as Interruption reared its ugly head, in the form of Crookshanks coming into the room and jumping neatly onto the bed, right into Ginny's back. For what seemed like the umpteenth time since they'd all arrived at the Grangers', Ginny was knocked down into Harry's lap. As she'd just been Inkiboot forced to kiss him, they were even pinker than they had when she'd been in his lap earlier. This time though, she didn't move right away, nor did anyone pay the least attention to the predicament. The other four were enraptured by the small glass jar that Crookshanks was batting around the floor and into numerous walls. Rita Skeeter's jar.
"Crookshanks, no!"
"Hermione, you still have the Unbreakable Charm on it, don't you?"
"No, I took it off right before dinner! I was going to let her free today, before the whole Inkiboot scandal!"
"Wha--? Oh, no, Crookshanks, no, don't do that!"
Within seconds, four of their number (those who weren't Harry or Ginny) were on their feet, trying to discourage Crookshanks from the jar. Crookshanks, though, was only of the mind that it was some game those crazy humans were playing. He gave the jar a particularly hard bat, aiming at a wall, but Ron came running up to try to grab the cat before he-
CRUNCH. The jar went right into Ron's bony shin. It cracked instantly, and the opportunistic Rita Skeeter seized her moment to Transfigure back to her grotesque human self. (Grotesque was an under statement-aside from her foul nature, she now looked and smelled particularly foul. Beetles aren't particularly clean creatures, so she hadn't changed robes or bathed since the day Hermione had caught her in the jar, in June)
"My, but we are in trouble," Rita said, smiling horribly.
"Us? Excuse me, Ms. Animagus, but I hardly think it would be us in trouble. You however, are illegal. Remember our deal?" Hermione said stiffly.
"I-oh. That pesky little Animagus thing doesn't bother you, does it, dear? It's all to get the story for the readers. They have a right to know what's going on!" Silence. "Well, at least you're off the hook. It seems I was wrong anyway." Hermione nodded, expecting an apology. "Wrong about our resident hero's love life!" Letting out an excited squeal, Rita Skeeter grabbed a quill, a bottle of ink, and a piece of parchment from Hermione's nearby desk. "What's your name, dear?" she asked the horrendously scarlet Ginny at the same time as she attempted to Transfigure the regular eagle feather quill into a Quick Quotes Quill to jot everything down. Failing, she instead took to writing quickly the details of finding the 'incredibly lovely young red-haired charmer' on the 'hero of many, The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter's lap,' in a 'declaration of their young love,' and the 'statement of the two hearts joined as one.' Ginny leapt out of Harry's lap faster than could be seen by the naked eye. She resumed her spot on the bed, eyeing Crookshanks warily.
Hermione leaned over Rita's shoulder and laughed outright, reading the description. It certainly had been nothing like this for her; she'd been made out to be a wretch to "be with" Harry. As only she, Harry, and Rita didn't have red hair, Rita must have made the assumption that the other three boys in the room were Ginny's brothers. That type of scandal was unheard of, and Rita decided to have Harry finally find his true love (in her column).
"Let's see. Red hair is Weasley. So... I remember hearing about the girl one. Ginger, was it?"
"Ginny," George said before anyone could stop him.
"Ah! Perfect! 'Hero Finds Love in Miss Ginny Weasley!' The Daily Prophet readers will love this! ... Now, what about you, dear? They'll love to hear how the Krum-Potter-er, Ranger? Whatever, how that triangle worked out. (Oh, Granger! Thank you...twin one) Which of them is it, then?" she asked, gesturing to Fred, George, and Ron. George raised Ron's hand. "Thank you, twin two. His name? Ron. Excellent. 'Friend and false lover, (what is it? Hermione, thank you, one) Hermione Ranger (what, two? Oh!) Hermione Granger has also found love in one Mr. Ron Weasley.' Seems Weasley love is blossoming! Oh, perfect!" she read aloud as she wrote: "Weasley love blossoming with hero and friend."
Crookshanks looked up cat-evilly and cat-grinned, walking out of the room. His tail swished as if to say, "my work here is done." Perhaps it was his revenge for being blamed for getting George and Fred in the tree that afternoon. No one noticed his departure.
"What do we have here?" Rita squealed, reaching for a book that no one had noticed was still out. "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone? Harry! You already have someone writing about you? Why that's-"
"A gag gift we gave him!" George interrupted, motioning discreetly for the others to hide the other 23 books as he kept Rita occupied.
"Yes, we gave him that as a memento of first year! Nothing written in it, just did the cover, haven't charmed it yet to move..." Fred said smoothly, taking the book from the overzealous Rita and waving it lazily around, out of reach of her interested hands.
"Well, if there's nothing written in it..." Rita said dispiritedly.
"Nothing yet!" George said, hopping in front of her to keep her interest as the last of the books were kicked under the beds.
"Well, then. Cute gift." Rita said, crestfallen.
Ginny yawned widely. It was this that made everyone else realize how tired they all were. Even Rita joined in yawning.
"Um, Rita... Why don't you stay here, on the floor? I'll find some blankets... Can't have you wandering amidst the Muggles like... that at one in the morning. ONE IN THE MORNING!??!?" Hermione had suddenly realized the time.
"That'll do nicely, thank you," Rita said, ignoring the outburst. Clearly, she was used to working with volatile people.
As the boys piled out of the room (George tiptoeing quietly downstairs to the couch), no one saw Rita's sneaky smile. She'd seen them kicking books under the beds. If only she weren't so tired, she'd just wait... until... *yawn* ...they were... asleep...
A/N: I'm REALLY sorry A. that this has taken soooo long, and B. that it's so short. It's taken me parts of the day (I didn't do it all in one stretch like I normally write, but spaced it over the greater part of the afternoon) which is why it may not make much sense in parts. I'm really tired right now; I don't know how Rita came to be an actual character in this. Wasn't planning on that one. I may just have them read a few books next chapter. I must finish this soon!! I'm so sorry again that this took so long. The next won't be more than a week, promise. It can't be! This will probably end near 10 chapters, maybe 11. Not much more than that. I leave next Friday, for goodness sakes! Ack. The life of a fanfic author... (or something)
Please review and be nice!
(-:
3,
~*Aurora*~
(luv you all!!)
Finishing Book One
Disclaimer: *cries*
A/N: Heh... oops. I've been a bit behind, eh? Thanks for asking, NYC was fun! (We saw Aida! So good!!!) After that, I had my sister's wedding in Boston (I was a bridesmaid!), and other assorted junk. I also had my in-cars, to finish up driver's ed. I'm done now! Yay. Last week my best friend's grandmother died, and this week is the last of school. With all that together, it's equaled me not being able to update since April. So, just to appease the masses, I'm skipping studying for my history and Spanish exams that I have tomorrow. Just for you. So there's my excuse/apology.
I'm going to have to finish this whole series before July. I'm going to Michigan June 15 (no computer), then I'm going to Britain (foreign exchange program) until mid-August. (I'm so excited!!!) I don't know if I'll have a computer there or not, so I'm just going to try and tie up these loose ends before I leave. Probably before I leave for Michigan. I'll try. Wish me luck!
Enjoy!
Dinner began as an enjoyable affair. Fish was the main course, lending credibility to George's sense of smell. Fred, having an identical nose, was dead-on about mashed potatoes being served. Ron was pink as they all sat around the table. He kept shooting furtive glances at the potatoes (Boston Market), as though they were going to stand up, do the cha-cha, and point and laugh at him for not being able to make them as well as Mrs. Granger could. Fortunately for the sanity of all gathered, they didn't.
"What did you kids do today?" asked Mr. Granger, who hadn't heard the made up story about Crookshanks and the washing machine that Harry had made up for his wife.
"Fred and I got stuck in a tree." George said.
"I got a splinter in m' bum." Fred muttered, looking sour.
"Must not have been very conducive to having fun," Mr. Granger observed with a smile in his words.
At this point, Ginny couldn't keep from laughing. No one got to stare at her incredibly loud outburst for very long, because just then a very loud BOOM could be heard from the upper floor. As a thin stream of smoke snaked its way downstairs, visible outside the entrance to the dining area, Mrs. Granger began to mutter nonsense words that sounded incredibly like vulgarities in another language. Hermione faced the twins with an expression of horror chiseled on her face and her hands on her hips. George smacked himself just hard enough on the head to force himself out of the chair and onto the floor. He didn't seem to mind, but sat cross-legged on the linoleum, hand still to his forehead.
"Forgot about the Wheezes!" He said. Fred looked at him blankly for a moment, then had the look of one with a light bulb just turned on. He helped his brother to his feet and the two of them sprinted out of the room and up the stairs, following the white mist lingering mid-air.
"Wheezes?" Mr. Granger wheezed, squeezing his wife's hand and managing to look both confused and outraged.
"Er," Harry tried.
"That is," Ron also quailed under the glare of the father of one of his best friends.
"The twins," Ginny gulped as the glare was directed at her.
"Irresponsible!" Hermione erupted, "They promised to not make the things while they were here! ...Oops."
"'Mione. What did you know about this?" Her father asked in a deadly quiet voice, accenting each word rather more than was necessary.
"They, er, make these... gag candies... and sell them at school... It, um, I told them not to make them here. They said they wouldn't. Guess not..." Hermione must have found the pattern on the tablecloth captivating; her eyes never left on square of it, her finger never stopped tracing the delicate fleur-de-lis.
"Probably Fred just told you that twice, made you think he was George, too. He does that." Ron said, trying to break the tension (even with the truth).
"Dinner's over. You six are not to leave the house tomorrow. I'll have Mrs. Fischer phone us at the office if you do. Unfortunately, Hermione, your father and I have a meeting and eight procedures only in the morning. Our afternoon is also booked solid. We will not be home before ten. All mess will be cleaned up and you all will be in bed when we arrive home, even if we decide to come home at three in the afternoon. Is that clear?" Mrs. Granger managed to say in English. She looked from one guilty, nodding face to the next, all round the table. Satisfied, she sent them all upstairs, not to be seen again awake by the Grangers until the day after the next.
Upstairs, the four of them gathered in Hermione's bedroom by silent agreement. The twins had not been seen since they'd run upstairs, and no one really wanted to see the guestroom quite yet, as the smoke was coming from around the frame of the closed door, seeping into the hallway.
"So..." Ginny tentatively broke the silence in the room, all the while shooting nervous glances at the door that connected to the common bathroom. "Erm, should we continue with, with... those?" she asked, the last word just audible as the quietest whisper as she pointed an unsteady hand in the general direction of the stack of seemingly innocent books heaped haphazardly in the corner.
"What about Gred and Forge?" Ron asked.
"It's their own fault if they miss it," Hermione replied haughtily.
"Well, they don't know most of it anyway, what's true of it," Harry said, ever the voice of reason.
"Harry's right," Ginny said.
"You always agree with Harry, Gin." Ron cracked a smile at his little sister and was rewarded with a pillow seemingly glued to his face. By the time Harry and Hermione peeled Ginny and the pillow off of Ron's (blue) face, the smoke had started to seep under the door to the bathroom. Whether Ginny's pinkness came from the struggle for strangling Ron or from flushed embarrassment from his words, no one could be sure.
"Excellent!" George's voice stopped them all in whatever movement they'd been making as effectively as a Stun.
"We've got it!" Fred echoed, standing triumphantly behind his twin, a piece of perfectly normal hard candy held in a fist raised jubilantly above his head.
"Nooo...." A collective groan filled the room.
"Yessssss!" Both Fred and George were quick to reply.
"What's this one do?" Ron asked timidly.
"Let's see!" Fred said, rushing up to Ginny, catching her by surprise, and tossing the brightly colored candy into her mouth. He held his hand over her lips so she wouldn't be able to spit it out. When he was sure that she had swallowed it, he let his hand up. Ginny looked at him, horrified, as though she knew what was coming. Three anxious and two excited faces stared at her expectantly.
"Erk! Harry!" Ginny seemed to be fighting the Imperius curse, and losing pitifully. This became closer to a correct assumption when she got jerkily up to her feet, eyes wide and pleading, and walked over to Harry. Catching everyone but the twins by complete surprise, Ginny planted her lips firmly on Harry's. A full minute later, the two separated. They were both extremely pink, and Ginny found the carpet suddenly engrossing, and Harry stared at the wall, fighting down a grin.
"It worked!" Fred and George laughed, high-fiving each other.
"But..." George began, suddenly sober, "She only should have kissed him for a second. It wasn't supposed to be so long..."
Ron looked about ready to punch Fred, George, and Harry, protective brother that he was. Hermione seemed to have forgotten all anger and instead looked gobsmacked, from one face to another.
"We call them Inkiboots!" Fred explained.
"Inkiboots?" Ron knew the routine well enough by now to know that he should just repeat the name of their new invention to have it explained.
"Inkiboots! It's an 'inky' method to get someone to kiss you, and a sure way to get 'booted' out of somewhere!" George said dramatically.
"Makes sense," Ginny mumbled, still horribly embarrassed.
"The book! Let's read the book!" Harry said suddenly, wanting to get the attention off of the Inkiboot candies.
"Sure!" Ginny was quick to agree, and soon everyone else was nodding agreeably, the twins nudging each other and smiling the smiles only they could smile.
"'Chapter Three, The Letters From No One,'" Harry read. "'The Brazilian boa constrictor incident earned Harry his longest ever punishment. By the time he was let back out...'" and so on.
Harry read clearly and loudly, to ensure that he wouldn't have to repeat anything-reading it once was bad enough. Hours later, his voice began to grow hoarse. Despite the sleepiness that was beginning to permeate the room, he refused to let up. He was determined to finish 'this blasted book' tonight.
"'Chapter 17, The Man With Two Faces... It was Quirrel.'" Harry began the final chapter to the gasps of the twins, who hadn't known everything there was to know about Quirrel. They'd looked shaky and very sober when he'd read the last chapter, detailing everything that he, Ron, and Hermione had gone through to get him to the Mirror of Erised.
By the time Harry finally closed the book, it was after midnight. For once, Hermione's parents hadn't cared about the late hour; they were probably still mad about the smoke (that had just within the last hour totally left the room) and the Wheezes. At least, Harry mused, they hadn't known about what this particular Wheeze-the Inkiboot-did. If they'd known... Well, Harry would just leave that to Mrs. Weasley, when she found out. She always found out about the plans of the twins, and this would likely not be an exception to the rule.
"Wow, Harry..." Ginny said. She also hadn't known all the details. Making sure to travel the whole complexion spectrum in one day, she'd turned chalk-white when Harry had read the fight with Quirrel and Voldemort. She'd almost passed out, until Harry'd hurriedly read to where Quirrel couldn't touch him. Hermione had given her a small Chinese paper fan to keep air circulated.
"So how much of that was true?" George asked, trying to get his normal cheeky inflection into the words.
"Actually, all of the last two chapters. Except Fluffy. He only had two heads."
"As though two heads are better than three," Ron muttered bitterly; the dog still gave him the shakes.
"But, the Devil's Snare? The Chess set? The Potions logic puzzle? Even those keys? Those weren't made up?" Fred was incredulous.
"No, no, I think she got those right," Harry said slowly, flipping through the book to find the exact passage.
"Does it matter?" Ron asked halfheartedly.
"Not reall-hey!" Hermione began as Interruption reared its ugly head, in the form of Crookshanks coming into the room and jumping neatly onto the bed, right into Ginny's back. For what seemed like the umpteenth time since they'd all arrived at the Grangers', Ginny was knocked down into Harry's lap. As she'd just been Inkiboot forced to kiss him, they were even pinker than they had when she'd been in his lap earlier. This time though, she didn't move right away, nor did anyone pay the least attention to the predicament. The other four were enraptured by the small glass jar that Crookshanks was batting around the floor and into numerous walls. Rita Skeeter's jar.
"Crookshanks, no!"
"Hermione, you still have the Unbreakable Charm on it, don't you?"
"No, I took it off right before dinner! I was going to let her free today, before the whole Inkiboot scandal!"
"Wha--? Oh, no, Crookshanks, no, don't do that!"
Within seconds, four of their number (those who weren't Harry or Ginny) were on their feet, trying to discourage Crookshanks from the jar. Crookshanks, though, was only of the mind that it was some game those crazy humans were playing. He gave the jar a particularly hard bat, aiming at a wall, but Ron came running up to try to grab the cat before he-
CRUNCH. The jar went right into Ron's bony shin. It cracked instantly, and the opportunistic Rita Skeeter seized her moment to Transfigure back to her grotesque human self. (Grotesque was an under statement-aside from her foul nature, she now looked and smelled particularly foul. Beetles aren't particularly clean creatures, so she hadn't changed robes or bathed since the day Hermione had caught her in the jar, in June)
"My, but we are in trouble," Rita said, smiling horribly.
"Us? Excuse me, Ms. Animagus, but I hardly think it would be us in trouble. You however, are illegal. Remember our deal?" Hermione said stiffly.
"I-oh. That pesky little Animagus thing doesn't bother you, does it, dear? It's all to get the story for the readers. They have a right to know what's going on!" Silence. "Well, at least you're off the hook. It seems I was wrong anyway." Hermione nodded, expecting an apology. "Wrong about our resident hero's love life!" Letting out an excited squeal, Rita Skeeter grabbed a quill, a bottle of ink, and a piece of parchment from Hermione's nearby desk. "What's your name, dear?" she asked the horrendously scarlet Ginny at the same time as she attempted to Transfigure the regular eagle feather quill into a Quick Quotes Quill to jot everything down. Failing, she instead took to writing quickly the details of finding the 'incredibly lovely young red-haired charmer' on the 'hero of many, The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter's lap,' in a 'declaration of their young love,' and the 'statement of the two hearts joined as one.' Ginny leapt out of Harry's lap faster than could be seen by the naked eye. She resumed her spot on the bed, eyeing Crookshanks warily.
Hermione leaned over Rita's shoulder and laughed outright, reading the description. It certainly had been nothing like this for her; she'd been made out to be a wretch to "be with" Harry. As only she, Harry, and Rita didn't have red hair, Rita must have made the assumption that the other three boys in the room were Ginny's brothers. That type of scandal was unheard of, and Rita decided to have Harry finally find his true love (in her column).
"Let's see. Red hair is Weasley. So... I remember hearing about the girl one. Ginger, was it?"
"Ginny," George said before anyone could stop him.
"Ah! Perfect! 'Hero Finds Love in Miss Ginny Weasley!' The Daily Prophet readers will love this! ... Now, what about you, dear? They'll love to hear how the Krum-Potter-er, Ranger? Whatever, how that triangle worked out. (Oh, Granger! Thank you...twin one) Which of them is it, then?" she asked, gesturing to Fred, George, and Ron. George raised Ron's hand. "Thank you, twin two. His name? Ron. Excellent. 'Friend and false lover, (what is it? Hermione, thank you, one) Hermione Ranger (what, two? Oh!) Hermione Granger has also found love in one Mr. Ron Weasley.' Seems Weasley love is blossoming! Oh, perfect!" she read aloud as she wrote: "Weasley love blossoming with hero and friend."
Crookshanks looked up cat-evilly and cat-grinned, walking out of the room. His tail swished as if to say, "my work here is done." Perhaps it was his revenge for being blamed for getting George and Fred in the tree that afternoon. No one noticed his departure.
"What do we have here?" Rita squealed, reaching for a book that no one had noticed was still out. "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone? Harry! You already have someone writing about you? Why that's-"
"A gag gift we gave him!" George interrupted, motioning discreetly for the others to hide the other 23 books as he kept Rita occupied.
"Yes, we gave him that as a memento of first year! Nothing written in it, just did the cover, haven't charmed it yet to move..." Fred said smoothly, taking the book from the overzealous Rita and waving it lazily around, out of reach of her interested hands.
"Well, if there's nothing written in it..." Rita said dispiritedly.
"Nothing yet!" George said, hopping in front of her to keep her interest as the last of the books were kicked under the beds.
"Well, then. Cute gift." Rita said, crestfallen.
Ginny yawned widely. It was this that made everyone else realize how tired they all were. Even Rita joined in yawning.
"Um, Rita... Why don't you stay here, on the floor? I'll find some blankets... Can't have you wandering amidst the Muggles like... that at one in the morning. ONE IN THE MORNING!??!?" Hermione had suddenly realized the time.
"That'll do nicely, thank you," Rita said, ignoring the outburst. Clearly, she was used to working with volatile people.
As the boys piled out of the room (George tiptoeing quietly downstairs to the couch), no one saw Rita's sneaky smile. She'd seen them kicking books under the beds. If only she weren't so tired, she'd just wait... until... *yawn* ...they were... asleep...
A/N: I'm REALLY sorry A. that this has taken soooo long, and B. that it's so short. It's taken me parts of the day (I didn't do it all in one stretch like I normally write, but spaced it over the greater part of the afternoon) which is why it may not make much sense in parts. I'm really tired right now; I don't know how Rita came to be an actual character in this. Wasn't planning on that one. I may just have them read a few books next chapter. I must finish this soon!! I'm so sorry again that this took so long. The next won't be more than a week, promise. It can't be! This will probably end near 10 chapters, maybe 11. Not much more than that. I leave next Friday, for goodness sakes! Ack. The life of a fanfic author... (or something)
Please review and be nice!
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~*Aurora*~
(luv you all!!)