Chapter Four – Author's Notes – I am attempting to spend more time on my chapters---make them longer. If you like short chapters, review with your opinion and if you want longer chapters, do the same. --- Iowa Fun [screw the disclaimers]

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            "Merlin's beard!" Ron exclaimed to Harry as they walked down Diagon Alley to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, where Hermione said to meet her. Harry turned to see what Ron was talking about. Boy, was Ron right. Quality Quidditch Supplies had a bright, neon, sign loudly blaring the news---"ENTER TO WIN A FULL SET OFQUIDDITCH ROBES SIGNED BY TEAM MEMBERS OF PUDDLEMERE UNITED!" A large crowd of people were in front of the shop, swimming in and returning with papers in their hands. "Harry! Harry, we've got to enter!" said Ron with stars in his eyes. "Let's go then, Harry, hurry!" "But what about Hermione?" Harry replied. "I dunno. She'll understand." So the boys pushed and shoved through the crowd to get applications for the contest. The young man they met was looking very harassed, and they asked for two applications. "Sorry, there's only one left," he said handing the last one to Ron. "Oh. Well, then, shall I come back tomorrow?" Harry asked. "Not sure," the young man replied. "C'mon, Harry, let's go meet Hermione," said Ron cheerily. They walked towards the Ice Cream Parlor, where Hermione and her parents along with the rest of the Weasleys.

           They all took up four little white wicker tables, and all of Hermione's schoolbooks took up one table alone. "Harry! Ron! It's great to see you both again!" shrieked Hermione, jumping up from her mountain of books and packages and leaping to the both of them. She was a bit awkward with Ron, settling down to just shaking his hand. But she hugged Harry. Harry remembered Hermione giving him a kiss on the cheek at the end of fourth year, he wanted to ask her about it, wanted to know why she did such a thing. Hermione was a bit taller than last year, almost Harry's height. Ron still towered over the two, however. "Have you entered the contest for the autographed Quidditch robes?" Hermione asked. "What do you think, Hermione?" Ron asked. "You still need to fill in the form," Hermione pointed out. "Harry, dear, would you like to finish one of these delectable, beautifully crafted sundaes?" asked Fred. "Er, no-no thanks, Fred," Harry replied. "I think I've seen enough of your er, er, compilations." "I'll have it!" Ron said eagerly. And he leapt from the table so fast he left a breeze. He grabbed the goblet, stuck the spoon in sundae, and brought it to his mouth.          

            "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAArrrrrrrrrg!" screamed Ron, vigorously fanning his open mouth in response to Fred and George's concoction. It was made of shaving cream, raw cinnamon sticks, tea, butterbeer, yogurt, a canary cream disguised as a topping tart and who knows what. "Serves him right," said Hermione, her quill bobbing up and down on Ron's contest application. "Oi! Hermioneeeeeee, how could you say such a thing," replied a molting Ron. "Fred! George! What have you done to Ron?" said an angry Mrs. Weasley. She stomped over to Fred and George, grabbed them by the ears, and marched out of Diagon Alley. It was Harry that broke the utter silence left by Mrs. Weasley. Harry burst out laughing and soon did all else in their party. But quickly conversations broke out again. Mr. Weasley had become a good friend of Mr. and Mrs. Granger. Right now the Grangers were trying to explain a dishwasher. They weren't very successful, so the three turned to make a conversation for themselves. Ron began the talking. "So, Hermione, did you visit Vicky this summer?" "I told you, Ron, don't-call-him-Vicky!" responded Hermione hotly. "Where did you go this summer, Hermione?" Harry inquired. "I went to Barcelona. Mum and Dad are going to go on a second honeymoon, so they might ask if I could stay with you guys." Ron's eyebrows arched. "Us? With us?" "Either that, or I'm going to have to stay with my aunt, and she's very religious. She'll lose her marbles if I told her I'm a witch." Hermione said. The three of them laughed again at this. "What's a honeymoon?" Ron asked. "Is it food?" "No," said Harry, trying to keep a straight face. "It's like a trip that Muggle couples take after they marry." "Oh." Said a rather disappointed Ron, who was apparently looking forward to a "honeymoon".

            They were silent, sipping their pumpkin juice. "Oh!" Hermione said. "I almost forgot your holiday presents! Here they are. And Harry, yours doubles as both holiday and birthday." "Wow! Thanks, Hermione!" Ron pulled out an autographed picture of the Chudley Cannons, while Harry pulled out a 3 x 3 inch box of red and gold coloring. "Gryffindor colors. The box will enlarge to fit any object, and then shrink back to its original form, and, it's waterproof." Hermione said, in her know-it-all voice. "Why couldn't I get that?" said Ron. "Because I spent a bit of my birthday money on yours, alri—"  "Really, Hermione, you didn't need to get me the box. I don't really have anything worth—"  "But your Invisibility Cloak! You could carry your cloak around and not have Snape get your arse for it!" Ron interrupted. "C'mon, then, children. We have to get some school supplies." Interrupted Mr.Weasley, who was sending for the ice cream bill and quietly refusing to let the Grangers pay for the ice cream. 

            As the four walked down Diagon Alley after saying goodbye to Hermione's parents, the three listened to Mr. Weasley tell an anecdote from work several years ago, involving a cross between a lizard and a Hungarian Horntail, making what the Muggles called "Godzilla". It was quite funny, the Ministry had a hard time fighting "Godzilla" and giving out Memory Charms. It was terrorizing the people of Tokyo. When Mr. Weasley was finished, the four found that their feet had led them right to Gringotts, the wizard bank. They stepped inside, as Mr. Weasley had a deposit to make. "Ministry business," he said, briskly walking toward the nearest free goblin. It was Griphook, whom Harry had an acquaintance with back in his first year. "Ah, yes, we meet again. Well! Mr. Weasley! A deposit?" Griphook said, a smile on his face, very much unlike the grin he bore when speaking of the doors that melted away at his touch. "Vault number three-seventy-seven," replied Mr. Weasley importantly. "That's not my family's vault. It's a favor for the Minister. Here, the note." "Very well," replied Griphook, and led the four down a hall way with names etched onto the stone. Then down two flights of stairs and they then stopped at what looked like a Muggle elevator. Mr. Weasley opened the door, let everyone inside, then stepped in himself. "Forty-eight-thirty-two-fifty-five," Griphook said to the ceiling, which replied by sending all of them, with a whoosh, deep, deep, down into Gringotts. "Where are we?" wondered Ron as they stepped out to meet quagmire on their shoe bottoms. "This way! Don't get lost. It's very easy to, in here." echoed Griphook, walking beside Mr. Weasley, who was looking for the vault. "I think we're on a cave of some sort," said Harry, desperate to fill the murky cave-like hollow with something. "I think we're lost," whimpered Ron, who was now clinging Harry's shirt tail in fear. "And I see spiders' webs." "Oh, do shut it, Ron, it's only a cave, and we're not lost. Look, there's your father." Hermione said calmly, also clutching Harry's shirttail. As they approached Mr. Weasley, the light from the vault flooded in and relief coursed their bodies.