Disclaimer:
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Notes:
Okaaaay… what is this about? Nothing really, just (as I think the title implies) Hermione and George's journey in going to the kitchen. I really think that everything that has got something to do with the twins will always be fun, but Hermione's quite a prim person and she wouldn't be immediately into the sort of thing that they do. Oh well, experimenting… experimenting… please don't be so harsh on me. First fic with this pairing… Thank you for all those who reviewed, by the way! It really meant a lot.
Dedication:
For all my friends who keep my insane level normal; to my mom who I love most above all else, though she always tells me to stay away, far away from the internet and computer, and always threatens to take my computer privileges away; to my dad who always encourages me and provides me with money to buy internet cards to post my useless stories; to my brother who makes me dumber each day by his useless diatribes; and, of course, to all those who reviewed, especially wishinstar who I have slighted because I suck at spelling…
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The Tiring and Perilous Journey
(The Eventful Trip to the Kitchen)
"George?" Hermione's small voice called from somewhere behind him. "What—"
He heard her, but chose to ignore her instead. She was quite a stubborn girl, isn't she? "Hermione, you can be so hard-headed sometimes, aren't you?" he asked her, interrupting her from her sentence. "Okay, seeing as you are such an intelligent person and all, could you please tell me truthfully… what part of 'No I will not tell you' don't you understand?" he said lightly, letting her know it was a joke. She scowled menacingly, but it was quite useless because he cannot see it. With her hand enclosed in his, he led the way, walking quite a way from her. She knew it was a joke, of course. However, the fact that he continued to keep whatever it was he was planning a secret, irritated Hermione to quite an extent.
She never did liked surprises.
Of course, she continued following him, seeing as he held her hands in his still. She vaguely wondered why George hadn't let go. Surely he didn't think she would run away from him, did he? She was too bent on knowing exactly where the kitchen was (not to mention the house-elves) to do that, no matter how irritating George turn out to be.
Some things just can't be done without sacrifices.
If she were to trust George (a decision she was growing wary of by the minute), they have so far, went down six floors, and were now walking through the marble staircase into the entrance hall. She wanted to hurry, but didn't want to rush George. He might decide not to help her anymore, and that would really put a very nasty stop at her campaign.
"It's so boring." George suddenly said, stopping her at her tracks. He turned and gave her an award winning smile; a smile she was rather suspicious of due to the fact that this is usually how the Weasley twins looked like when they were up to something.
"Want to help me do something?" he asked her.
She freed herself from his grasp, completely missing the slight disappointment that briefly flashed across his features. She turned her head to look at the hallway they have just walked through and surveyed the surroundings they were currently in. They haven't been walking that long, but it seems like they've gone through quite a way. The decors in this part of Hogwarts were completely different from what she had previously seen, and this place was somewhere she wasn't familiar with. She sighed and turned to look back at him. What was he up to now?
"What now, George?" she asked him in a tired voice. "Want to rig the Great Hall so that it would sing love and happy songs for Snape all through out dinner? I don't think you've done that… though I hardly think that'll end us a lot of house points…"
Sarcasm and reprimand had been present in her voice, but George seemed quite oblivious to both.
"Rig the Great Hall?" he exclaimed excitedly. "How come I didn't think of that? Hermione, you're a genius! Truly, a wonder after my own heart… Imagine how Snape would feel!" a smile began growing in his face as he thought of all the humiliation their most-beloved Potion's Master would be subjected to, for that act. "He'll be totally in the spotlight! Okay, now we'll just have to tell Fred about it and we can start making the plans. When do you think is the most appropriate date to do it?"
Hermione gaped as he continued his wonderful tirade about 'Hermione's apparently great idea.' That is of course, until Hermione's foot fell on his right foot. Painfully, he might add. Very painfully. He uttered a great big yelp, and immediately jumped up and down, using the uninjured foot. Looking at her with great big hurt eyes (that reminded Hermione of an injured puppy… a cute, red-haired extremely adorable puppy), he started the guilt-trip galore.
"Hermione, how could you? I could have been seriously injured ("From being stamped in the foot?" she said, cutting him off, but he only raised his voice and pretended not to hear her.) How could you live with yourself if you knew that you caused my eternal damnation? I could have suffered forever… I could have been scarred for eternity. I could be –"
Hermione tuned him out, rolling her eyes at the idiocy of his logic. She was scarred for eternity by just hearing that speech of his. Seriously, she must remind herself to stay away from the Weasley twins; even more so when they're by themselves. Listening to them by one's lonesome would make that person dumb.
Sighing, she held her hands to his face and smacked him lightly in the forehead. Surprised, he stopped his diatribe and stared at her, quite intently.
"You," she said slowly, emphasizing each word. "are a very bad influence."
He smiled at her then, forgetting the pain (or so he said) of his seriously injured foot. "On you?"
"On anyone, George. But more so to Harry and Ron." She answered him, willing herself not to smile back. "Seriously, if you've seen them sometime, they can almost be compared to you guys. Although I suppose, they mainly target Snape and Malfoy."
He snorted at that and made a wild gesture with his hands. "Who wouldn't? Those two gits are the bloodiest… er, well, gits this side of the world! Could you really blame us for that?"
"That's not an excuse to think bad thoughts about them, you know. You should try to understand, or maybe just not think about them at all… What's the use of thinking about things that upset you anyway?" she said, in a voice reminding him of McGonagall's when she was lecturing (or reprimanding them every time they did something wrong… whichever of those two could be chosen. Their Transfiguration teacher hardly changes countenance anyway…).
He looked at her through the corner of his eyes using this time to study her. Though they didn't notice it, both of them had started walking once more and, for some bizarre reason, her hand had once again, became enclosed in his. She was looking ahead, or at the walls, marveling at different paintings or scrutinizing them. Sometimes, her eyes would light up at particular paintings and she would mutter about which book she has read them in and what contribution to the wizarding world they had done.
Hermione Granger would always be a bookworm. She was the little girl with the bushy hair, the buck teeth, and the bag that almost always seemed to burst at the seams with the overload of books she was always carrying. She was the bossy and extremely intelligent girl his ickle brother had repeatedly bad-mouthed in their first Hogwarts year. Yes, he knows about that… It wasn't really eavesdropping. It's not even snooping. Mom did tell them to look out for their youngest brother didn't she? So that's exactly what he and Fred did. Looked out for their little brother… She always seemed to be holding one towering book after another towering book and was like a walking, breathing encyclopedia. However, prior to this, he had never seen her become so passionate about something. He saw how she had gotten during the whole Chamber thing, but that incident had placed her life in danger. What was so important about a bunch of house-elves to bring about such passion? He could see what she wanted to accomplish, but she would always be alone in this cause. Even the elves, would be against it… why couldn't she see?
"What's the use of thinking about accomplishing something that is in all entirety, impossible, then?" he asked, as they turned a left at the bottom of the staircase. He saw her surprise and the sharp turn of her head to look at him but he ignored it. He wouldn't look at her knowing she could burn him with the intensity of that gaze.
However, instead of snapping countless debates about the wrong done to the elves, she surprised him back by answering him softly… something he couldn't understand at first…
Somebody said that it couldn't be done,
But he with a chuckle replied
That "maybe it couldn't" but he would be one
Who wouldn't say so till he'd tried
So he buckled right in with a trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried he hid it
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn't be done, and he did it.
He failed to connect the… song? Poem? Eh… was that her answer? to the matter at hand. He seriously couldn't understand. He'd never been one for poems. He preferred straight and to the point answers. What was the use of colorful words then if it could only make the receiver more confused? You go through all the trouble of making a colorful entry only to have people go, 'Huh?' 'What?' 'I don't get it.'
It was very confusing to say the least. He looked at her, only to realize that her eyes were halfway closed and an almost wistful and melancholic look was on her otherwise serene face. A small smile played on her lips, as if she were in a place far from this downward flight of stone steps.
"When I was young," she said, eyes still halfway closed and that small smile still on her lips. "My dad always said that in a sing-song voice whenever I tell him that I couldn't possibly do this, or could never ever accomplish that." She looked at him straight in the eyes, her smile growing a little. "He was a very optimistic person and would always prod me to do something I want to do. 'How would you know if you haven't even tried?' he always tells me, and then he'd do everything in his power to help me accomplish my goals."
As they started through a flight of steps, a slight pause overcame them. They would be there soon, George thought, and somehow, this particular notion saddened him. "He isn't here now," Hermione continued, steering him away from his thoughts. "but wouldn't this be a perfect way to show what I learned from him. I was always taught to fight for what I believe in… so what if I had no one to help me? At least I know I tried to do something about it, before admitting defeat."
He didn't know what to answer to that, so he kept his silence. It really didn't matter; she seemed to be preoccupied with her own thoughts to listen to any word he might utter anyway. Though George was never really used to this kind of silence, he reveled at this. He had never seen this side of Hermione before, and, if he were a betting man, he'd wager everything he owned that he was the very first person she had ever confided with that memory.
He smiled, and unconsciously tightened his hold on her hand. He soon became lost in the fond thoughts this particular moment had given him. Hermione, who was brought out of her reminiscing by the sudden tightening of his hand, now looked at George. She briefly wondered what he was thinking of. She had never seen that particular smile at him before.
He turned and looked at her then and suddenly their eyes met. Both smiled.
"Guess what?" he asked her, using his hold on her hand to move her closer to him. "Anything odd about this place?"
It was then that Hermione realized where they were. She had gotten lost in her own thoughts halfway through the stone steps, and, she noticed now, instead of emerging in a place like the dungeons, she found herself in a broad stone corridor, brightly lit with torches, and decorated with cheerful paintings that were mainly of food.
It was the paintings that gave the answer away.
"Oh!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Are we near?"
"Yup! Just a little way and we'll see the painting of the fruit's bowl. All you have to do is tickle the pear and the door would emerge. You know this right?" he asked and she nodded in response. "Now," he said. "since, we're getting near, remember your promise?"
She looked at him confused before the answer dawned on her. "Yes, George, I remember. I won't do anything to scare the house-elves." She replied, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She lost in that battle and George laughed seeing her do so.
"Do you remember the way?"
"I think I got a fair hold of it… Okay, from our common room, I should go back to the corridor, go through six floors, walk down the marble staircase into the entrance hall and turn left at the bottom of the staircase. Uhm…" she hesitated, trying to recall the exact way they had gone through.
"Go on," he urged. "You got it perfectly up to the last part. So, what's next?"
"After that… go inside the door behind the staff table?" she asked and seeing his affirmative nod, continued with what her memory offered her. "Okay. Inside the door behind the staff table, down the flight of stone steps, and then I'll emerge here in this corridor… right?"
"Perfect!" he exclaimed enthusiastically, and she can't help but smile back. "You are so smart, Hermione. I bet you could outwit your parents when you were in diapers." He teased, earning a playful smack in the arm.
Walking down a little, they finally stopped in front of a large painting of a fruit bowl. George, who finally decided to let go of her hand (much to her chagrin… she was missing it), demonstrated in a very exaggerated manner, how to make it open up. He mocked bowed, brushed his robe and stretched before actually tickling the pear, watching it squirm and chuckle before turning into a door handle. George turned the knob until he heard a soft click, but suddenly covered the entrance she had been searching for.
"What?" she snapped irritably, unsuccessfully trying to push him away to see even a tiny view of the place. "Come on, George. Move! I promised already, didn't I?"
"Yes, I know you did," he replied, smirking. "But you're forgetting something very important…"
Hermione stopped and contemplated his words. What was she forgetting anyway? There isn't anything else that needs to be done, right? She wracked her brains for the answer but it always turned blank. Sighing, she finally decided to stop torturing her mind and just ask him what it was.
"I've thought of this for the whole duration of our strenuous expedition," he started, arms crossed and face schooled in a too serious expression, it made her stop in her supposedly planned diatribe pertaining the strenuous expedition part. "I finally figured out what I want…" he said, watching as Hermione turned pale at what he was pertaining to. How could she have forgotten that part of their deal?
Hermione watched as a smile appeared on George's lips, and suddenly, she very much preferred his former countenance. A serious George usually meant business George; a smiling George usually meant up-to-his-usual-tricks George. She would so very much prefer the former, thank you very much.
He walked away from his position, giving her the view of what she had been looking for. He moved behind her and laid a hand gently in the small of her back leading the way. Pushing her gently, they started for the kitchens.
"Ready?" he asked, and she being in front of him, failed to see his smile.
He had a feeling this would be a special day indeed…
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Author's Notes:
I'm so proud of myself! This was quite a long chapter! =) Okay, so I know that I'm just in the third installment and that this isn't really a long chapter (compared to the other two, though, it was!) but… eh, okay. Now my mood is shattered. *pouts*
Anyway, I'd like to thank the ones who reviewed! DazedPanda, Chee-Ionos, wishinstar, Jade, 6th March 2003 (eh? Sorry… didn't know your real name) and C Jazz. You people are really awesome! Also, I would like to say my apologies to wishinstar whose penname I have misspelled. I'll try to correct it as soon as I'm able. Thank you for pointing it out and still reviewed.
The directions were stated in the books. If I'm not mistaken… *buries head in a book 4* Okaaay… Chapter 21: The House-Elf Liberation Front, p. 373-374. The part about the door behind the staff table was the door that Harry and Cedric went through during the Goblet of Fire name-spewing. =) It was stated in Chapter 16: The Goblet of Fire, p. 268. Dumbledore said it. By the way, this is in the US edition of HP. So I'm not sure where it is in the British edition.
By the way, the poem Hermione quoted was by Edgar A. Guest. I don't know the title, though… -_-x But I like it all the same. I liked it better because it rhymes… I am such a sucker for rhyming poems… Actually, I'm such a sucker for poems in general. If a guy courts me, I'd immediately answer them if they happen to be great writers or poets! Erhm… It's a good thing we have pennames here at FFNet… -_-x
Okay, that's all really… that A/N has been really long, not to mention nonsensical, no? Sorry about that…
~c!
