Hermione Granger stood in
the middle of Diagon Alley, tapping her foot impatiently on the smooth cobblestone
streets. She checked her watch every minute or so, sighing as she folded her arms
into an annoyed stance. It was a lovely late August. The sky was clear blue and
filled with fluffy clouds that gradually changed colors from a cotton candy pink
to a sparkling sapphire blue
to a deep forest green, the color of her friend Harry Potter's eyes.
However, the one person she was supposed to be meeting wasn't there at the specified
time of 1:30 PM.
"Ron Weasley, where
*are* you?" muttered the no longer frizzy haired girl of 15. She was to
be Ron's summer tutor, even although there wasn't much summer left.
Ron Weasley had not done
so well on his final exams during his fourth year. His mother, Mrs. Weasley,
had received the owl post from Hogwarts, even though he had desperately tried
to summon it to himself from his upstairs window. Yet, he really hadn't gotten
the hang of that one on his Charms exams, and so Mrs. Weasley had opened it.
One look at the cream colored
paper was all it took to make her yell.
Fred and George, his older
twin brothers, had come downstairs for a snack (they ate a lot these days),
and found Mrs. Weasley practically fuming at the ears.
"Get. Your. Brother,"
she had ordered at the two, knowing they were hiding behind the worn door.
After that, Ron himself
had to call Hermione and ask her to help him catch up on everything they had
learned. He was very unhappy when she had exclaimed happily that she'd be "pleased
to study with you," and from then on, they would meet weekly in Diagon
Alley, because it was halfway between both of their houses. True, there were
to be only two sessions, but Mrs. Weasley was determined to make her youngest
son learn.
"Hermione!" A
voice called behind her, sounding rather strained.
"My friend Hermione,
please, my friend, don't make me do this..."
Hermione gradually spun
around, finding Mr. Weasley and Ron, who was stuffing his hands in his cloak
defiantly, not looking at all happy to see her. "Well, hello Ron. So kind
of you to show up," she said, her lips turning up into a smirk.
The brunette witch managed
to remember her manners, and she smiled at Mr. Weasley.
"Hello, Mr. Weasley.
I'll take good care of Ron, I promise."
Mr. Weasley looked worn
out, as if he had dragged a screaming wildcat into the family's car, and then
had to strap it down while dodging its claws. He smiled thankfully at Hermione.
"I'm so sorry we had to bother you, Hermione. I know you must not be wanting
to do this... Percy didn't want to tutor him, so you were our next option."
He trailed off and grabbed
the neck of Ron's cloak, who had been sneakily edging towards Mr. Ollivander's
wand shop. Hermione was slightly offended that he would rather be with the creepy
old man rather than himself.
All the while, Ron had
not even looked up at her. He had grown taller during the
holidays, but not too tall that Hermione would be a tiny spot beneath him. She
was beginning to get a bit irritated at the red-haired boy.
"It's really not a
problem," Hermione said as brightly as she could, smiling again.
Ron grumbled something that
sounded a lot like "Yes, it is."
Mr. Weasley sighed loudly,
then noticed something. "Your hair looks nice, Hermione. Did you color
it a different color?" Ron suddenly looked up at his father's question,
hoping to see Hermione looking like a wild boar. Unfortunately, she had become
quite the opposite of a wild boar. His brown eyes went wide and his mouth dropped.
"Helloooooo, Hermione."
Ron's brain did not particularly care that Hermione happened to be his best
friend. "Looking very nice today. Very, very nice, in fact. Mmm-hmm"
Hermione was feeling a bit
uncomfortable as Ron stood gaping at her body.
There was an akward silence,
and Ron had to stop looking at her or have his father remove his eyeballs. "Flobberworms,
Ron! Get yourself together, man."
Then, his father interrupted his river of denial.
"Well, I better go,"
said Mr. Weasley hurriedly. "There's a lady in Southampton who ate a Glowing
Whiddle, and apparently, from what I've heard, she's been glowing different
colors all day. Morty Magunus saw her when he was on Ministry business. Thank
God
she's blind!"
With that final note, Mr.
Weasley dashed away, calling back to Ron that he'd pick him up *right* there
in one hour, and that Hermione was to give him an owl if Ron escaped.
"Hello," gruffed out Ron, whose mouth had slightly closed, but there
was a tiny trace of drool on the side of his lip. Hermione grinned. "I
was wondering when you were going to say that. You were much nicer before your
mum told you that you had to have lessons with me."
Ron raked a freckled hand
through his bright red hair. "It's holidays! SUMMER holidays, Hermione!
I think there's a law against studying during the holidays. Wouldn't want to
break any rules..."
"But I'm willing to make an exception for you, Ron."
They walked over together
to the ice cream shop not too far away, pulling up chairs at a brightly colored
parasol covered table. Hermione took a large books out of her bookbag, much
resembling the ones they had poured over at Hogwarts.
"Well then. Shall we
start?" The sleek haired girl asked the apprehensive boy sitting across
the table from her.
"Noo..." moaned
Ron, who was obviously not happy to be here. He burrowed his red head underneath
his arms defensively. "You're being so mean."
"Good to know, Ron,"
said Hermione, who wasn't to be fazed by anything the boy was saying today.
He was completely mad, if not a little bit red in the face, at least. As Hermione
plunked the last heavy book on the table, Florean Fortescue came out of the
cheery ice cream parlor (whose banner on the front of the shop had ice cream
dripping from a crystal bowl).
"Ah, Harry Potter's
friends!" Florean said instantly, knowing the two teenagers by the amount
of books she carried around."What will you be having today?" He asked,
cheerily wiping his hot fudge covered hands on his completely sanitary apron.
The
brown chocolate stains disappeared instantly.
"Double chocolate
foam with teeth colouring sprinkles!" Exclaimed Ron right away, knowing
he'd probably need the chocolate.
"One double chocolate
foam, colour sprinkles," noted Florean Fortescue with a Quick-Notes quill.
"And you?" He asked Hermione.
"Er... Peanut butter
and jelly ice cream," Hermione told him. Florean took the notes taken with
the quill, tapped it with his wand, and magically, their orders appeared on
the table instantly.
"Cool," breathed
Hermione, who had never really sat down long enough to order here, or maybe
it was just because Harry and Ron and herself had usually been not studying
and weren't really paying attention. Ron sipped his slowly, knowing it would
be his only one, because he only had about two sickles with him, and the other
five he was planning on buying a Cannons playing card with.
"All right. I'm guessing
you didn't miss that much, but enough to mess up your exams, right?" she
asked.
"I'm not sure what
I missed or then I'd probably remember it." Ron's arduous demeanor had
slightly vanished as he drank the foamy goodness. He shrugged. "I know
I didn't do so well on Snape's extreme forgetting potion. I think I might've
inhaled some of the fumes and then forgot how long to keep it on or something.
Then I forgot things the rest of the day. I remember them now so can we stop
studying?"
"We haven't even started!"
reprimanded Hermione. She took a bite out of her ice cream. Yummm... The magic
world was so much more fun than her own in the Muggle world.
"You're disgusting!"
Ron exclaimed. "It's *summer*. Summer! You need summer lessons, Hermione.
I could start teaching you right now! Now, repeat after me. Quidditch is fun
to play. Quidditch is fun to play. Quidditch is fun to- mmmpph!"
Hermione had clamped her
hand over Ron's mouth before he could say anything else. She scowled menacingly
at the boy who was trying to thwart her lessons. "My lessons. You learn,
I teach. Not the other way around, because I know how to have fun during summer.
But, as I'm getting paid to teach you, I figure you should actually learn something.
So shut up and listen!"
Ron's eyes went wide and
his mouth stopped blabbing, shocked at Hermione's outburst. She usually never
talked like that, unless you counted the time when she went a little mad during
the third year. At least then, she had a reason to be wicked.
"Yes, Miss Hermione.
I'll be a good little boy, I swear."
Her facial features softened
and she grinned at him. "Good. So have you done any of your homework yet?"
Ron grimaced. "I'm
going to ignore that rather thick question and let you answer." Hermione
sighed loudly, obviously irritated at his bluntness.
She took another bite out
of her ice cream.
"That's a no, right?"
"Right. But Dad made
me bring some of it, so he'd be sure I wouldn't procrastinate. You have a lot
riding on your shoulders, Hermione," Ron told her knowledgeably.
"Then let's see it!
Do you have the Hinkypunk trials paper with you for History of Magic?"
Ron pulled a few papers
out of his own bookbag he was carrying. It was considerably lighter than Hermione's,
whose was bulging at the seams.
"Yeah." He handed
the papers to Hermione, who only took a few seconds to read the one sentence
that read, "Hinkypunks are very scary little monsters."
"Ronnn..." She
grumbled discontently. "That's *barely* a sentence."
"Er-my-kneeee... It
was boring! Come on, you know History of Magic is boring!" Ron refused
to believe that Hermione could actually disagree against that. They *were* kind
of scary, and he really didn't remember anything about hinkypunks. That had
been way
back in third year.
"Okay, so if we're
not going to go anywhere studying, what are we supposed to do?" Hermione
gave in. It was too hard to teach Ron. He simply wouldn't learn anything, and
she knew it was hopeless as soon as she read the sentence. She finished her
ice
cream quickly, ignoring the drips appearing gradually on her leg.
Ron grinned broadly, showing
off his pearly white teeth. "He really can make a girl swoon sometimes,"
thought Hermione. "Eurgh. No, he couldn't, because it's physically impossible
to swoon from a smile. What kind of a word is swoon, anyway?"
Hermione shook her head,
trying to get rid of the traumatic thoughts coursing through her brain.
"Well, I could teach
you about the wonderfulness of Merlin's Lyrvies," Ron told her, still grinning.
"I swear, they're educational."
"What?" Hermione
asked, completely confused by their very name.
"Merlin's Lyrvies!
You haven't even heard of them?" Ron replied, astonished. That was practically
impossible. All wizarding children had at least heard of them once in their
lifetime.
She shook her head eagerly.
"No, I haven't! Come on, tell me!" She started packing up her books
and gave Ron his papers back. Ron noticed this and had to stuff back his laugh
of victory. He had made Hermione stop studying! The joy and rapture!
Ron shook his head back at her, giving a small cluck of his tongue. "So
deprived, so deprived," he said with a mock sadness. Then he smiled again.
"No, really, you have. Come on, I'll show you." And with that, he
grabbed her warm hand impatiently, pulling her away from the table outside Florean
Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor down the long cobblestoned street of Diagon Alley.
Hermione blushed as they
walked down the street and Ron eventually let go of her hand as he walked impatiently
down the rather long alley. If her eyes were mistaking her, she thought she
had just seen him turn a deep crimson too as the sparks stopped running up her
arm when they had let go of each other. But then again, Ron's skin was usually
kind of red anyway...
"Not that I ever notice
Ron's skin. That's really bizarre, Hermione." Hermione mentally smacked
herself as she struggled to keep up with her friend.
Finally, the two friends
reached a very small shop with the words "Merlin's Lavoratory" enscripted
on it. Hermione placed her hands on her hips and stared open-mouthed at Ron.
He had just started to open the large glass door to the inside when he felt
her gaze
on his back. He spun around.
"What? It's the name
of the shop!" Ron swore to Hermione, whose hair had begun to pop up in
frizzy little tafts because of the heat outside. She ran a hand through her
hair, shaking her head absently at the Quidditch-obsessed boy. Knowing him,
it probably *did* have something to do with broomsticks and flying bludgers.
Hermione walked in cautiously, half-expecting a broom to come flying at her.
Instead, she found a room full of shelves of odd things that she recognized
but couldn't really remember the names of. The shelves held shiny little thingamabobs,
jumping dolls, and simmering cauldrons of God-knew-what.
"What is this place?"
Hermione asked Ron softly, shifting her book bag to a more comfortable resting
position on her shoulder. He stepped sideways towards her, brushing her hip
with his arm accidentally. In the dim atmosphere of the shop and with only candles
glowing (no sun. the curtains were shut.) she couldn't tell if he had blushed.
He cleared his throat, leaning in towards her conspiratiorially. "It's
Percy's apartment."
She gazed over at him,
only about 9 inches away from her face. Hermione frowned. "It is not Percy's
apartment." He nodded, smiling widely.
"Gee, Hermione, you're
smart."
"I know."
"Of course you do.
You know everything."
Hermione slapped his shoulder lightly. "Shut up!" she whispered. A
soft voice appeared from behind the counter. "The girl is right,"
the mysterious voice said. And the Mysterious Voice Lady rose up behind the
large mahogany counter with glass jars on top. There
appeared-
"Professor Trelawney?"
said Ron and Hermione in unison, completely shocked. Now the candles and the
heat of the room made sense. Professor Trelawney's aura had been redecorating.
And it looked like the Merlin's Lyrvies were gone! Ron gaped at Trelawney in
indignation, but she seemed to take his staring as a compliment.
"Children! How nice
it is to see you in the summer holidays. I was wondering when you were going
to wander inside the peaceful store of mine. I saw it in my crystal ball, I
did. You were wearing those bookbags, too." Professor Trelawney gasped
at the stagger
of the words of truth she had just spouted.
Hermione and Ron had to
conceal their laughs bubbling up in their throats. He cleared his throat, surpressing
his grin. "This is your store?"
Professor Trelawney's arm
seemed to sweep large amounts of gauzy cloth all over the tiny room, showing
it the shop off as if it were some magnificent treasure. "But of course!
Even Hogwarts teachers have to work during the summer. Headmaster Dumbledore
prefers that we live our lives outside of teaching, of course."
Hermione nodded, a little
surprised. It wasn't really as if she was surprised- but the teachers at Hogwarts
spent at least 10 months out of the year there. There wasn't much time to have
a "personal life," really. It seemed rather funny that Professor Trelawney
worked in a small shop during the summers. Hermione had thought that she stayed
at home and gazed into the crystal ball and saw a whole lot of bad weather coming.
However, now Ron looked slightly angry at Professor Trelawney. Mervin's Lyrvies
was gone! Now it was all Professor Trelawney's fault, and she hadn't even bothered
to change the sign out in front. Then at least he could've avoided the buggy-eyed
rambling teacher of his. The day was turning out to be not so good. At least
Hermione was with him so then he wouldn't have had a purely awful tutor.
Sybil Trelawney clasped
her hands together excitedly, bringing Ron and Hermione back from their daydreams.
"Why don't I give you a reading? For free, of course, as you are- or were,"
she glanced at Hermione dismissively, "my students. It would be my pleasure!"
Hermione and Ron attempted
to stammer out some "No, thank you, she's my tutor, we've really got to
study, uh, I've got to be home by 4 or Mum'll be furious-" but she would
have none of it.
She adjusted her glasses
and lead the two protesting teenagers into a back room, pushing the tacky beaded
curtains apart as they entered an even smaller room with a fireplace in it.
Ron and Hermione sat down dutifully upon some wonderfully comfortable poofs
in the corner where a draping tablecloth with stars and moons on it lay on a
small circular table.
Trelawney pulled out her
wand, and started a small green fire in the fireplace. Then she took a seat
across from her students, arranging her gauzy gossamer cloak with skinny fingertips.
"Ahhh... The aura in here is lovely! It really brings out the karma of
your
hair, Ronald..." she glanced expectantly at Ron, who was blushing furiously.
Not because of the compliment, however.
Hermione giggled and looked
at the boy sitting next to her. "Ronald!" she gasped for breath, laughing
so hard her stomach hurt. She snorted into the tablecloth.
Professor Trelawney looked
disapprovingly at Hermione, now trying to stuff her fist in her mouth. "Now,
dear. Ronald is a perfectly wonderful name. It does indeed go well with his
karma." Ron tried to bury himself under the table, but Hermione pulled
his collar of his shirt up. She stopped giggling and managed to compose herself,
because apparently Professor Trelawney was most displeased with her karma.
"Hermee-ownee,"
muttered Ron back at Hermione. She didn't seem to care about the mispronunciation
of her name. "Ronald," she gritted back, giggling a little more.
Trelawney cleared her throat
quite loudly, announcing that she was about to begin. Hermione nudged Ron in
the side. "Yes, Ronald. Your karma is being most displeasing. It may be
harming the beautiful crystal ball sitting oh-so-kindly in front of us."
The teacher's voice started
quite mysteriously, her buggy eyes twitching beneath her rather large unbecoming
glasses. "Ahhhhhh... Ahhh..." her voice called out loudly.
"Choooo..." Ron
said softly under his breath to Hermione.
"Bless you," she
replied back with equal softness. Trelawney either ignored their comments or
was completely deaf. She went on. "I see things... Ahhhh, yes."
Ron squinted at the crystal
ball, trying to see "things." Hermione tried looking at what Ron was
looking, but also saw nothing. "Maybe we should ship her off to the looney
bin if she's going mad and seeing things," Ron murmured.
Trelawney placed her thin
hands upon the tablecloth, trying to see more clearly into the crystal ball.
Her eyes were now practically glued to the shiny glass ball. Ron put his hand
over Hermione's mouth, sensing that she was about to go into gales of laughter.
He
was right.
"Mhhhhahahhaahah!"
her voice was muffled a lot more now because of Ron's hand. Professor Trelawney
was much too into her lovely crystal ball in front of her. Ron looked over at
Hermione and started snorting quite loudly. Hermione saw Ron laughing in the
dim light of the fireplace and started snorting too.
"Alas! My dear students!"
the teacher's melancholy voice rang out in the teeny tiny room. "I see
such- dark things. Dark, dark, dark, dark things," she said quite sadly.
"I see such- stupid
things. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid things," mumbled Hermione to Ron.
He nodded at her, agreeing completely. Trelawney heard this and glared at the
two. "I'm afraid your auras are making my Inner Eye feel rather troubled.
I cannot see anything with the two of you here. So if you could please leave..."
her voice trailed off as her eyes were captured by the crystal ball.
Ron and Hermione stood
up immediately. "We're sorry, Professor. See you in September!" Hermione
said quickly. Ron nodded.
"Bye!"
And with that, the two
of them dashed out of their teacher's shop and found themselves in the nice
cool outdoors. At least it was cool compared to the awful tiny shop. They let
out the laughter they had tried to keep in, and kept on laughing for a couple
minutes until they could regain their breaths.
Hermione looked over at
Ron, her chest heaving. "I really don't like her."
Ron nodded back, also agreeing.
"Well, I really really don't like her. I'd rather be with Lockhart than
with her."
Hermione shrugged her shoulders.
"Lockhart isn't that bad."
Ron glanced at Hermione
disbelievingly. "You're not kidding? You only like him because he's handsome,
and you know it!"
She glared at him. "Do
not. I like Victor, don't I? And he's not a bit handsome."
"Everbody likes Krum,
Er-my-knee. He's famous."
"So? I did have a
rather nice time with his family and him in Bulgaria. Mum and Dad came too,
you know."
Lots of fascinating history
there. Lots of broomsticks, too. You'd probably love it," retaliated Hermione,
getting a little off-topic. She really did have a nice time with Victor.
"I'd probably not!
I might think Krum is a fabulous Quidditch player but it's not like I'd..."
Hermione interrupted. "You
would too! You're only angry because he didn't invite you." She crossed
her arms under her chest, her face red. Fidgeting with his bookbag, Ron glared
almost as menacingly back at Hermione. Like he cared! He could visit Krum
anytime now that he was out of school. He didn't need Hermione's permission
or anything.
"I'm not angry. I
don't even care!" Ron yelled at Hermione. They were in a more secluded
part of Diagon Alley, so there weren't *that* many people around. But there
were enough heads to turn and look at Hermione and Ron to make them move around
the back of a Muggle clothes store. There were high brick walls surrounding
them, but it was clean. The back of the clothes store had not a lot of space,
but there was a whole long alleyway along the back of every store, including
Professor Trelawney's.
There was enough room for
Ron to lean against one brick wall, and for Hermione to reset against the back
of the clothes store wall. They both crossed their arms over their chests and
stayed that way for many long minutes, glaring at each other, trying to stare
one another down. At last, Ron said something. The tension was so thick between
the two you couldn't have cut it with a sledgehammer if you wanted to.
"Maybe I did care,"
he muttered under his breath, hoping Hermione wouldn't hear him. He dropped
his bookbag to the cracked cement floor of the back alley.
Hermione had heard him.
She snapped her head up hopefully. "Not like I care that he cared."
She toed a pebble into a small crack in the cement, and waited a while before
she responded. Ron was slightly wringing his fingers together, back and forth,
and back
and forth.
"Maybe I should have
told him to invite you," Hermione replied softly.
Ron shrugged his shoulders
sadly. "Even with the money Harry gave us..." Hermione knew what he
was talking about. The money was going into fixing up the Weasley house and
starting a shop for the twins. Even with the money... He wouldn't have been
able
to come.
"I know," she
finished for him. He looked up gratefully. The topic of money was always a sort
of sore spot for Ron. Harry and Hermione didn't bring it up unless they had
to, and it wasn't often.
"You're a good friend,
Hermione," he told her truthfully. "Even if you are going to make
me repeat fifth year if you don't help me with my stupid essays."
She looked at him, incensed.
"Oh, please Ron. It was your fault in the first place."
He furrowed his eyebrows
at her, already feeling a little better. Not that he was feeling bad because
of the Krum conversation, of course. *I don't care... That much.* But even that
was an understatement. "It was not! My father is paying you darn good knuts..."
Hermione grinned. "Then
we'd better get on with the lessons already, shouldn't we?" Ron shrugged.
"Personally, I think this back alley is very charming. I'm feeling very
educated already! See?" he indicated, starting to count the number of rough
red bricks
stacked up 20 ft into the air. "I'm learning numbers... So then.. Er...
Snape won't kill me when I put 4 boar eyes in the Hair Growth potion instead
of 1/2 boar eyes."
Hermione grinned, and elbowed
his gut. "Ow!" he yelled. "That hurt, Hermione. Really."
He patted his chest. "Right in here, it did."
"I'm sure."