To Caderyn: yes, something similar happened of Friends, but I'm not sure if that's how I thought of it. Things just come to me out of nowhere when I write, so I guess the 'got the keys'/'get the key' thing "inspired" the idea. (Laugh) Thanks for noticing!
Special thank you to: Jessica C Potter who never fails to review a chapter.
Chapter 5: Smelly SocksAs Hermione flipped through the Daily Prophet one morning, she saw exactly what Ron had been talking about – this Laurel Skeeter person.
She stood patiently behind the wooden counter at Flourish and Blotts, the newspaper laid out in front of her, and she, leaning forwards propped up on her elbows. This was a posture strongly discouraged by her superior, but Hermione was too tired that day to really care.
She had been poring over books the previous night, trying to cram into her mind as much information as her fatigued self would allow. Hermione rubbed her eye absently and observed that despite the day's early hour, Diagon Alley was already rather crowded.
She returned her attention to Laurel's article, in which he had brought up the Psychology of a Hippogriff – a subject Hermione doubted somebody like Rita would take any sort of interest in.
The bell clanged softly at the door, and quickly, Hermione straightened her back. She was considerably relieved to see her customer was Harry.
" 'Morning Harry. What are you doing here?"
" I was on my way to work," he answered calmly, " and I wondered why you left the house so suddenly."
She stifled a yawn. " Just wanted to get here on time. There isn't anything wrong with that, is there?"
He eyed her carefully, absently noting her half-closed eyelids. When Hermione got defensive, it meant something was up.
Noticing Harry's suspicion, she hastily pointed out the paper to divert his attention. " I found him – Laurel Skeeter."
" Oh …" Harry approached the counter and read the subtitle beneath the headline, Why do Hippogriffs attack? He smiled. " Well, we haven't got much to worry about, do we?"
" We certainly don't," said Hermione, beaming. " I don't think he's got his mother's gossip gene. He sounds positively boring."
Harry neglected to remind Hermione of her schoolgirl days when she'd launch into a very thorough explanation of whatever academic topic was being discussed. Instead, he asked her for the paper.
" Sure," she said, handing it to him across the counter. " Looking for something?"
Harry thumbed through the pages. " Advertisements," he muttered.
" The Ballycastle Bats one for Butterbeer?" she asked, surprised. Harry nodded. " I didn't know it was released already."
" Ludo just told me yesterday – yeah, here it is." Harry set the paper on the counter and indicated a large advertisement of seven rowdy looking Irishmen in Quidditch robes clutching bottles and mead mugs overflowing with Butterbeer. We're just batty about Butterbeer! ™
Among them, Seamus Finnigan waved and winked, his sun-exposed arm wrapped around the neck of Ballycastle's Seeker.
Harry folded up the newspaper and checked the clock on the wall behind the counter. His face fell. " Time to go to work, I guess."
Hermione said goodbye and Harry stepped back into the bustling street, leaving her alone once again. The repetition of the tick-tock from the clock behind her lulled her. Her eyelids drooped and she leaned back on the counter once again. This was going to be quite a long morning.
* * * * *
The Department of Magical Games and Sports and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures shared the same floor of the Ministry building. So aside from the Quidditch nuts who ran about the office area trying to scour a few free tickets (this included Ron), Harry would often, during a bathroom break, run into troubled bug-eyed house-elves with clothes and wizards pressing charges against the ghoul in their cellar. The office of the Department he worked in consisted of desks aligned in small cubicles about the size of Harry's old cupboard bedroom. Ludo's office was placed in the back, although he himself rarely inhabited it, as he liked to wander around the office for the entire eight hours he remained at work.
Thankful that the advertisement had successfully been released, Harry spent the rest of the day organizing the last of his documents, tying up loose ends, etc. Upon finishing, he stacked up the last of the documents and stood from his desk to stretch.
His back and neck felt rather stiff from poring over his desk. He had to move around, so he sauntered meekly about the office, catching snatches of conversation in the adjacent desk cubicles.
He stopped at the bulletin board near the back of the office – a message board that posted the wizarding world's most prominent news regarding magical games and sports. Harry scanned his eyes across it, looking for his Butterbeer advertisement. He had to admit, he was rather proud of it.
Something else caught his eye, however. It was a small clipping from The Daily Prophet's sports news section, titled Pride of Portree Loses Seeker.
Harry adjusted his glasses and started reading the article beneath the headline.
Pride of Portree, renowned Quidditch team of England, holder of two League wins, has announced their Seeker's resignation at the official press junket last night. Zacharias Handling, a 37-year-old who has been their Seeker for eleven years, claims to want to spend more time with his wife and eight children. Team Captain and Keeper, Meaghan McCormack (daughter of the legendary Portree Chaser, Catriona McCormack), quotes " [Handling] is a superb Seeker, and if wasn't for his obligation to his family, I'd refuse his resignation." She adds with pride, " He hasn't lost his touch." This statement, however, does not ignore the fact that Pride of Portree must find a replacement before the season's first game in October. Prospective professional Seekers will no doubt be vying for the spot.
" Harry!"
Startled, Harry turned around to see Ludo coming his way.
" Finished, Harry?"
Ludo came bouncing over. He held a bunch of keys in his hand, indicating he was closing up the office.
Harry checked his watch – 8 o'clock.
" All done, Mr. Bagman."
" Good, good. I want to congratulate you on your superb job with the advertisement negotiations." Ludo beamed.
" Thank you, sir."
Ludo put his hand on Harry's shoulder. " You know Harry. It's card night again at the Leaky Cauldron. You up for it?"
Harry began to decline politely. " No, I don't think --,"
" Aw, come on! Don't be like that now, Harry. I think it's time you joined us!"
Ludo continued to bounce on the balls of his feet as Harry marveled at his aging boss who simply refused to give up a lifestyle he loved despite the troubles it had caused him.
" Alright," he heard himself say.
Ludo's face cracked into a smile. " Great! Splendid! Oh, get your galleons ready, Harry. It'll be quite a night."
* * * * *
The atmosphere in the Leaky Cauldron was as warm and lively as it always was. Harry left the cool summer night behind him when he entered the dry, stifling comfort of the pub.
" Tom!" Ludo shouted to the aged wizard behind the counter. " I'll take two!"
Harry spotted Tom and smiled. The toothless man smiled back and waved, then turned to a woman standing next to him and held up two fingers. Harry saw who she was and quickly approached the bar.
" Ginny?"
Whether it was the hot atmosphere in the pub or the arrival of Harry, Ginny's cheeked were flustered scarlet. " Harry! What –,"
Harry pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the table in the far corner where his co-workers had assembled, most of them already finished with their second mug of mulled mead. " I just came to play a game or two."
Ginny opened her mouth then closed it again quickly. She realized she still need to fetch two of whatever Ludo had ordered and picked up a mug from behind the counter. She watched as the thick concoction of alcohol and all things magical stirred out of her wand and into the mug. They grew quiet for a few seconds.
Harry spoke up. " So, you work here now?"
The air of the pub had somehow dried her throat and all she managed was a nod in reply.
Harry smiled. " Since when?"
Ginny placed two filled mugs on a tray, spilling some liquid over the rims. She looked up at Harry, her mind feeling numb and void. " Oh, I – erm – just started tonight." She glanced over at Tom, who was chatting with a witch at the other side of the bar. " Tom admits he's getting old. He says he needs some help around the inn, and I need a job and a place to stay. So … well, you know …"
She suddenly felt stupid again.
Harry nodded slightly and took the two mugs. " I've got these," he said quietly.
Ginny began to protest but something else came out of her mouth. " When will you be finished?"
Now she felt her cheeks grow redder, but Harry seemed not to notice. Instead, he smiled, his eyes locking into hers. " When you do."
Ginny felt as though somebody had pinched her stomach as she watched him walk away from her, towards to the back of the room where he was greeted by many sets of suspicious eyes.
* * * * *
Hermione swung open the door with peeling yellow paint and entered her flat with a huge sigh of relief. She spotted Ron sitting at the kitchen table with Hogwarts, A History before collapsing on the sofa.
Ron closed the book and shifted in his chair. " Hard day?"
Hermione groaned in reply, and Ron felt guilty once again. There was his roommate, working herself to near exhaustion while he remained at home reading her old book, dusting the windowsill, and occasionally being yelled at by the landlady.
He stood and approached Hermione, who did not stir and opened one eye when his shadow loomed over her.
" Yes, Ron?"
He considered what to say to her before plopping down on the sofa at her feet. " Need anything?"
Hermione lifted her arms and stretched. Ron saw the hem of her sensible sweater come up slightly, revealing a line of her stomach, before it came back down again. She took off her shoes and each one dropped with a thud on the floor that Ron had magically dusted the day before. " I don't think so … I'm just so tired, Ron."
Hermione closed her eyes again, letting her body sink into the cushions of the old sofa. She felt her hair snag at a spring that had somehow wormed its way out through the fabric, but she hardly cared and was too tired to do anything about it.
She wiggled her toes beneath her immaculate cream-colored socks and Ron felt compelled to touch her feet … touch her. She was so weakened at this moment by everything she'd been going through – experiences Ron avoided. He decided it was time to take a more active role in finding a job. He simply couldn't let his best friend waste her energy away to support him.
But there was nothing for him to do at that very moment so he tickled the sole of her foot.
The leg twitched immediately.
He did it again.
It twitched again.
He did it harder.
Hermione's eyes snapped open. "Ron!"
" Hmm?"
He saw the corners of her mouth curl slightly upwards. " I'm tired."
" Sorry," he admitted.
She bit her lower lip then lay back down. No sooner had she done so when felt Ron touch her foot again.
Hermione began to protest, but Ron opened his mouth to speak. " Relax, Hermione."
She saw he was holding her foot and placing it on his lap. She breathed deeply to calm herself.
Ron began massaging the soles of her feet, running his fingers smoothly where her feet were most fatigued. In spite of herself, Hermione began to relax. She closed her eyes and felt her mind slowly grow numb. Her thoughts began to tie together in her mind as random scenes throughout the day played beneath her eyelids. She could feel herself slowly drifting … falling …
" Your feet smell."
Hermione snapped open her eyes once again. Her feet … smell? Oh, the injustice of such a statement!
" What?"
" Alright then, maybe it's your socks."
Hermione let out an exasperated groan through gritted teeth. " Ron! Grow up!" She sat up and looked at him. " It's probably your feet that smell!"
Ron feigned an expression of being deeply offended. He straightened his legs and brought up his feet, covered in what Hermione assumed was at one point in time white socks. There was a considerably large hole where his big toe stuck out. " They're a bit old, I admit, but they don't smell."
Hermione couldn't fight the laughter that escaped her. " Ron, do you even know how to do laundry?"
" Erm …" Ron's mind suddenly went to the pile of less than clean clothes assembled in his laundry sack. " No … actually …"
" Well in case you haven't noticed," said Hermione, raising her eyebrows at him, " you'll run out of clean clothes to wear. So I'll show you."
She removed her feet from Ron's lap and sat properly on the couch beside him. " I'll need an example."
Ron removed the torn sock off of his foot. He handed it to her indifferently.
" Right then. You take your wand, like so …" she lifted her wand to the sock. "Purgarias."
A shot of thick bubbles shot out of her wand's tip, followed by a gust of mist. The sock flopped once, and it was clean.
Hermione seemed slightly pleased with herself. She nodded at Ron. " You try."
Ron looked around, then grabbed the cream-colored sock from Hermione's left foot. He held it up daintily. "Purgarias."
The sock swiveled as bubbles surrounded it. The bigger gust of mist followed and the sock dropped out of Ron's hand. It lay, perfectly clean (or at least cleaner that it already was) on Ron's leg. He picked it up, sniffed it, and nodded in approval.
" You can do it with a whole load too," Hermione said. She stuck her wand back into her robes pocket, then reached over to take back her sock.
Ron ignored her gesture and clutched it in his opposite hand, apparently impressed with his first attempt at laundering clothes.
" Ron, give me my sock," she inquired. She leaned closer to grab it, but Ron pulled his hand away, faced her, and grinned. It was hardly difficult to notice that her face was barely inches away from his.
Hermione reached for her wand again, but she looked up to see Ron wave it in his other hand.
The thought of Ron having reached behind her to grab it both pleased and embarrassed Hermione.
* * * * *
True to his word, Harry left his co-workers the second Ginny washed her last mug and left her place behind the counter. She was rather pleased to see how quickly he had left them, but was brought down slightly when he admitted to her on their way out the door that he wanted to get away from them as quickly as possible.
The prospect of going with him to his flat, however, cheered her up considerably. She was excited, not to mention a bit surprised, when he'd invited her the moment she finished her shift. They walked together through to well-lit streets of Muggle London, passing many other residents of the world as they carried on with their individual lives.
" How do you like life outside Hogwarts?" Ginny asked him as they passed a small café.
Harry had his hands in his pockets. He'd kept his eyes on the sidewalk, but he lifted them up to meet hers upon her addressing him. " Well, it's been a year, but I'm still just starting to get used to it." He fiddled with nothing inside his pockets and continued. " It's just hard, I guess. Life without Hogwarts."
Ginny grinned at the sidewalk. It was nice to hear him speak to her like they were … friends.
She inquired no further questions for the rest of the trip. The silence was slightly uncomfortable to her, but she had to admit that the fact that she was simply standing next to Harry was sufficient. His silence, for whatever reason, only made her want to know him more – want to figure him out and be able to someday become a person in his life he could trust. He was so nice, yet so quiet. She knew she'd always be willing to listen if he was willing to say.
They reached the flat building, and walked up the stairs (quietly) to greet the door with peeling yellow paint.
" Beware," said Harry wisely as he inserted his key into the rusted keyhole.
Ginny frowned. " Of what?"
Harry turned the knob and pushed his way in. " Of Ron and Hermione."
The latter two looked rather civilized. Ron was at the table with Hogwarts, A History opened before him. Hermione sat across from him, quietly sipping tea.
There was only one odd aspect about the scene that lay before Harry and Ginny, and that was that there were bubbly soapsuds everywhere.
They clung to Hermione's curls, Ron's t-shirt, the torn fabric of the sofa, and even the ceiling.
Upon hearing the door open, Hermione and Ron looked up. Ron spotted Ginny immediately and his eyebrows shot up to the sky. "Ginny?"
" What happened?" asked Harry, ignoring him and looking around the flat, both amazed and confused.
" Laundry," Ron and Hermione answered simultaneously. Ron's eyes averted to Ginny, then to Harry, as though some brotherly instinct within him was forming the worst conclusion that could possibly exist.
Hermione smiled at Ginny. " Hello, Ginny. How are you? Do you want some tea?"
Ginny smiled right back, ignoring her brother's suspicious stare. " No thank you."
She suddenly felt rather shy, as she always had around the three of them. Harry, Hermione, and Ron – the tenacious trio, glued to each other for life with their impenetrable friendship. And there was Ginny, outside them, while they passed secrets over her head. She never really desired to be a part of that, for she knew such a prospect was near impossible. Ginny just wished she didn't have to feel so uncomfortable around the three of them.
The evening, however, eased on with tension (on Ron's part) and sympathy (from Hermione). They ate their previous night's leftovers for supper, and proceeded to play Exploding Snap, which resulted in each of them singeing their fingers and laughing. Ron seemed to keep one eye on Ginny the entire night, and grew pink when Harry nursed her hand briefly by rubbing it after one particularly large explosion. One look from Hermione, however, was enough for Ron to desist.
By midnight, they'd tired out. Ron stacked up the cards, while Hermione fixed the burn marks on the surface of the coffee table.
Ginny stood from the couch and headed for the door. " I should go … thanks, everyone. I had fun." She stuck her hands into her pockets timidly.
Hermione looked up from the table. " Oh, no, Ginny, don't go out there by yourself … it's so late …"
Ron raised an eyebrow heavily at Hermione. He was about to open his mouth, most likely to offer walking his sister home instead of suffering the alternative …
" I'll go." Harry rose from his seat and slipped over the back of the sofa to approach Ginny at the door. She opened it and stepped out, waving at Ron and Hermione and mouthing bye, then disappearing, followed by Harry.
Ron gripped his card stack and glared at Hermione, who ignored him and hummed.
* * * * *
Ginny did not arrive back to the Leaky Cauldron until well past midnight. Tom was extinguishing the last of the soft-glowing candles, slowly fading the pub away from vision. She spotted Ludo Bagman pushing in his chair while somebody beside him reassembled a deck of cards.
She passed them and made her way up the stairs, feeling her legs carry her as if toward heaven, her head amidst a cloud of ecstasy. She and Harry were finally on what one would consider 'good terms'. She shook her head, smiling at how she's spent her evening – at his flat then on a walk back to the pub, talking with him, laughing with him.
Ludo eyed her in her state, and preoccupation grew within him. His mind solely on his disappearing bank account, he decided it was time to take more action.
* * * * *