A.N. Muchos Gracias, my darling seňoritas (or seňoritos) for the delightful reviews!!! I appreciate them. J
Disclaimer: read chapter one. (Well, you must've already read it since you're now on chapter 2. Who pays attention to disclaimers anyway?)
Warning: You will encounter a few bad words and… just find out for yourself… ;) (Wink!)
On to the next chapter!
Chapter Two: The Burrow
The late morning warm sunshine rays shone in upon Hermione's face. (It rhymes!) Crookshanks purred atop her lap as she sat in their family car, the CR-V. She couldn't stop grinning. 'Her mother had hugged her, and her father had swelled with pride when she told them the good news. Plus, she's on the way to finally meet her two best friends at the Burrow. 'Nothing can wreck my wonderful day! Not even my mum and dad's pestering me to bring more luggage than I could possibly need. No, absolutely nothing can ruin my beautiful day!'
The traffic wasn't so bad. Although they had to ask a couple of directions from random people as the Burrow was outside of their map range (or was magicked unplottable, more likely.) But they instantly knew that they were almost there because an airborne gnome came careening by and hit the windshield, which gave Mrs. Granger a terrible fright.
"Goodness gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Granger. "Oh my Lord, we hit a poor little bird!"
"A bird with a rather rugged head?" Mr. Granger pointed out. "I'd say it was a flying potato."
Hermione chuckled from the backseat. "Oh, mum, dad, what you just saw a garden gnome." And she brimmed with excitement and got out of the vehicle and hopped down with her duffel bag as Crookshanks followed.
"Oy, Hermione, over here!" Fred (or George) called at about fifty feet away.
Ron was busy trying to pry a gnome from his pant leg. "Bloody—little—bastard," He grunted.
Hermione jumped over the hedge and half0skipped half-ran over the clumps of bushes, weeds and curious little red flowers that emitted small puffs of purple smoke. (Although she was having difficulty doing this for she was wearing a long denim skirt.) Her parents seemed very much intrigued by the Weasleys' garden, as they hadn't moved an inch from their car, fearing to be hit by the gnomes.
Soon enough, Hermione tripped over a pair of legs and fell fat on her butt. "Ooooooowww…"
"Hey, Hermione," Harry greeted from his kneeling position. (He was chasing a gnome on all fours.) And golden-brown orbs locked with emerald ones.
Suddenly—neither of them had expected it—everything else seemed blurry as fireworks exploded. (Though it was only in their imagination. You would know that.) At that moment, nothing else seemed to matter, except their sudden connection. It seemed like it lasted forever, but forever was still too short…
Unfortunately, Hermione's butt landed on a flat-nosed gnome, which made it look even flatter. And in extreme anger, the infuriated little gnome bit her ass—HARD.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Hermione screamed in pain, and
"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Harry yelled, startled indeed.
"You—nasty—little—scum!!! You're dead, potato-head." Hermione grabbed the gnome on its ankles and flung it away as hard as she could, nearly missing Mr. and Mrs. Granger's advancing figures.
"Hermione, are you alright? What happened?" Mrs. Granger said, getting more anxious every second.
Hermione glanced at Harry. "I-I'm alright mum. A nasty little booger of a gnome thought my dignity quite delectable. I'm alright, really, and I could take it from here."
"Well, alright then. But if you need us, you know where to reach us."
"Yes, mum. Bye then!"
Mr. Granger gave one last look at the Burrow, and then at Hermione, then took off with Mrs. Granger toward the CR-V.
All the while, Harry had become silent and was suddenly very interested in the soles of his shoes.
Thankfully, three redheads rescued them from the awkward moment of silence.
"Mione, that was bloody graceful of you," Ron chuckled, as Hermione dusted off the soil from her skirt.
Hermione shot Ron a look that few people could refrain from cowering under it.
"May we offer you our most humble service, fair damsel?" Fred said in his most dignified voice. And not waiting for a reply, he whisked away Hermione's duffel bag.
"Hop on our chariot, m' lady," said George as he lifted Hermione up and piggybacked her all the way across the garden, into the house and propped her down on one of their lumpy but comfy sofas. All the rest followed after them as they cheered along the way. Harry came in last. (Apparently, Fred tried to hop on Harry's back when Harry wasn't looking. Thus, Harry was forced to tumble down and kiss the ground. [And I don't envy him!])
When they all at last caught their breath, Mrs. Weasley came and greeted them with a lovely warm smile, the type that makes you feel that everything will be right in the world. She then offered them iced lemon tea.
They started to go upstairs to show Percy's room, in which she would stay. A couple of flights up led to a stuffy hallway. (Well, That is what it was supposed to be, but it seems only like several cubic feet because of all the magical contraptions scattered here and there, but Hermione didn't mind.)
Hermione noticed Ginny's voice coming from her locked door—"She keeps to herself most of the time lately," Ron explained. "I reckon she's got a boyfriend…" He smirked.
"So what's up, 'Mione?" asked Ron as he led Hermione to Percy's room, closely followed by Fred, George, and a limping Harry.
"Let me show you," Hermione said as she reached deep inside her pocket for her glorious Prefect Badge and showed them. (A brilliant light shone upon her, as the background sound effects played: Hallelujah!!!) "I'm a Gryffindor prefect!" she said slowly, each syllable dripping with pride. She shone like a beacon of hope to all the despairing student of Hogwarts.
(The background sound effects was abruptly cut off by a sound familiarly like a radio DJ unexpectedly taking off the swiftly playing disk. If you want to know exactly how it sounded like, listen to the sound immediately preceding the lyrics of the song POP of N'Sync."
This was so, for Ron had sprayed his iced tea all over Harry's face as he had tried to stifle his guffaws in vain.
"Ron!" Harry exclaimed indignantly as he tried to wipe Ron's spit-contaminated iced tea off him, while Hermione shot Ron her death glare, the one Ron was quite used to by now, but was nevertheless effective.
"Wicked!" said George.
"You could take points—" said Fred.
"From Slytherin—"
"Without being caught—"
"Or being told off!!!"
And they both smiled identical evil grins not even experts could tell them apart.
"Honestly! I should've thought so!" Hermione said huffily. She then picked up her red duffel bag and stormed off into Percy's room and shut the door with a crisp snap.
"Oh come on Hermione, we're only jokin'!" Fred said.
"Um hmm, of course you are," came Hermione's sarcastic voice from inside the room.
But as the boys continued the flight of stairs up, Fred checked that they were out of Hermione's earshot and whispered to Harry: "I think we're gonna have a lot of fun this year…"
~0~0~0~0~
Dinner (or supper, as called by some,) that night, they all had a wonderful time, but Harry made sure he was out of Ron's vicinity as he might spit out his juice at him. (A famous wizard concoction w/c tasted rather like banana root beer soda)
Their selection of food was indeed delicious which was composed of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, Caesar's salad and spaghetti with meatballs. The aroma was so fragrant you could almost taste it. The delightful dinner was ended with a couple of Fred and George's Filibuster's fireworks.
~0~0~0~0~
Late in the evening, Hermione took a long hot bath to soothe herself after the long day. She put on her peach bathrobe after the (slightly relaxing) bathe.
"I'm probably suffering from insomnia," she concluded as she brushed her hair in front of the fogged mirror.
"Oh my…" The sight of herself rendered her speechless. Her chestnut brown hair framed her delicate, creamy complexion. And her lips… They were pink and soft (if you touched it) and made you think of bright, ripe cherries waiting to be… eaten. ;)
Finally, she decided to go downstairs and stargaze in the Weasley's backyard. (If you wanted to know, she didn't bother to dress into her pajamas.)
To narrate this story better, you'll have to view it from Harry's point of view. We shall journey back through yonder zenith of the Weasley's treacherous staircase into Ron's unkempt quarters and back five minutes. (He he Õ_Õ)
Harry kept on tossing and turning on his (but it was really Ron's) bed. He tried pulling the quilt over his head but dust particles fell into Harry's brilliant emerald eyes.
"Aagh—!" Harry abruptly sat up and tried to blink the dust out of his eyes. "That does it. I am officially unable to sleep." He grabbed his glasses and shoved them up his nose as soon as he managed to clear up his vision. He tiptoed to the door, careful not to wake Ron up. (If you could remember from the past years, Harry had a water jug by the window of the boys' dormitories, but this time, he had to go all the way back downstairs.)
The moment he got a glass of water from the Weasley's quaint kitchen, he heard shuffling feet from the staircase (which happened to be Hermione's).
Harry almost dropped the glass when he looked at Hermione and he can't help but stare in trepidation.
"What!?" Hermione asked, frantically examining herself. "Are there beetles in my hair?! Because I just took a bath and—and if there are—"
"Her—Hermione… y—you look… nice." Harry finished lamely.
"Well, you don't look pretty bad yourself, Mr. Potter. You scared the hell outta me." She approached Harry.
"…Why are you up?"
"I was just going to ask you that myself."
"I—I couldn't sleep…" And from sheer nervousness, Harry just looked down several inches from Hermione's face and instead found a sight much too intriguing for our young, innocent raven-haired boy.
"Shit," Harry thought as he felt his face reddening. Hermione's bathrobe was undone a few inches lower than she intended. Hermione's cleavage showed.
Harry quickly looked up—red-faced and all— and stuttered: "I—I'd b-better be going now—" and dashed up the stairs as fast as he could, unaware of the water splashing out from his glass and down his front. Then when he reached Ron's room (which you know was at the very top,) he was surprised to see his glass empty and he (and his clothes) were drenched. He carefully tiptoed to his room despite of the fact that his heart seemed to want to burst out of his chest. He can't stop thinking of Hermione (and the nasty little memory of what he had seen earlier) as he lay on his bed, full of adrenaline.
'This had been a very weird night.' Both Harry and Hermione murmured.
~0~0~0~0~
A.N. Thank you, thank you, thank you very much.
My thanks to my dear reviewers, you know who you are ;)
And my very special thanks to Seiki: Thanks for everything. Ü
P.S. R & R and tell me what you think. Ü I'm gonna be busy for the next few days so expect the next chapter in a week or so. But don't worry guys; I'll manage. _Õ