Author's Note: Whoa, over a month since I updated this. I took a holiday
from university (which unfortunately ended this week) but so did my muses,
and I lost my chain of thought for a while and took a while to find it
again.
Shameless self-plug here: If you like "Truth or Dare" fics, I just finished "Natalia Adani and the Boys of Hogwarts." You probably don't want to read the previous 19 chapters, but the last one works as a stand-alone truth or dare and is just crazy.
Anyway, onto the chapter!
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Chapter Eight: Banter over Breakfast
"I can't take this anymore," Hermione groaned, burying in her head in her hands.
"You'll just have to tell Cho that you can't do duty tonight," Harry said, yawning.
"And have a decent cup of coffee," Ron said, his hands shaking so much that he had drowned half his scrambled eggs in espresso. "That green tea crap you and Frodo drink won't do shit."
"Well at least it won't give me the shakes like I'm some kind of drug addict," Hermione told him, reaching for a fat-free cinnamon bun. The threesome plus Frodo were sitting around the Gryffindor table, hollow-eyed and weary. Harry was on to his second cup of coffee and Ron had consumed too many to count.
"In a sense caffeine is a drug," Frodo corrected Hermione. "So you would not need to say "like a drug addict" but just leave it as "drug addict," if you like."
"Good point," Hermione beamed. Harry gave a small smile. Funny how Hermione was grossly offended whenever the new Ravenclaw prefect Faramir corrected her, but didn't seem to mind when Frodo did it. "Actually, Frodo, you're so perfect and wonderful and you drink green tea. Will you marry me? It's a joke," she added, seeing the hobbit spit out his freshly-squeezed orange juice.
"Just ask Neville to cover your shift tonight," Harry suggested. "How he slept through the terrible two's infernal racket last night, I'll never know."
Ron's mug in front of him was empty. "Geez, what I really want right now is some more coffee," he said out loud. Instantly his cup was filled with a pitch black mixture, the house elves in the kitchen working their magic. Hermione looked down at the coffee in distaste. "Thanks," Ron said and drained the mug.
"You're going to die of a stomach ulcer by the time you're thirty," Hermione told him.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Harry joked. "Who knows, maybe the world could do with one less Weasley?" Ron pretended to look hurt.
"Speaking of Weasleys, here's your sister," Hermione warned. Ginny was walking into the great hall clad in her crimson Quidditch robes, her broomstick slung over her shoulder. At the sight of her Frodo straightened in his seat.
"Ginny!" Ron called happily as she approached, far too happily for any older brother unless he was planning to majorally humiliate his sister. Ginny was a smart girl, and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "So, Gin, now that you've turned Dean, which guy are you shagging now?" Ron asked her.
"That's none of your business," Ginny retorted, plopping down next to Hermione. "And FYI, Dean isn't gay. He's, um, creative."
"Really?" Ron grinned. "How so?"
"Am I the only one here who finds it really strange and disturbing that Ron is making insinuations about his baby sister's sex life?" Harry asked.
"Quite right," Hermione said, at the same time as Ginny snapped, "I'm not a baby, like you'd ever notice!"
"I've noticed," Frodo said quickly. He caught Hermione staring at him and quickly ducked his head.
"So, fearless leader," Ginny said, turning to Harry who was the new Gryffindor Quidditch captain, "tryouts still on this morning?"
"Wha'?" Harry blinked.
"Quid. Itch. Try. Outs," Ginny repeated and rolled her eyes. "Oh, poor Harry, did no one tell you about those? You're only the captain."
Harry swore and smacked his forehead. Hermione tut-tutted. "Bugger, that means I have them to," Ron said.
"Well, since you "are" the goal-keeper, one may assume that you are indeed on the team," Ginny snapped. "It appears I'm going to have to get everyone motivated around here. Honestly, if you wanted something said, ask a man, but if you want something done, then ask a woman."
"Here, here," Frodo backed her up. Harry gave him a strange look.
"So, since Angelina, Alicia, Katie and the twins all left last year, we have two Beaters and - with me being one this year - two Chasers to replace," Ginny continued. "Let's forget about Kirke and Sloper for now. They were a joke."
"Must you talk about Quidditch so early in the morning?" Ron groaned. "It's like having Oliver Wood back again."
"I think Ginny should be captain," Frodo said.
"I was beginning to like you, mate," Harry said and glared at him. Ginny, meanwhile, was not glaring at Frodo, but beaming at him.
"Well, with three decent Chasers last year and a good Seeker we could get by with crap Beaters," Ron began, suddenly animated now that his cup of coffee had kicked in. "But with the Chasers we'll probably have "this" year- "
"Ahem," Ginny said.
"-I mean, I mean," Ron said hurriedly, seeing that Ginny was wacking her broom threateningly into the palm of her hand, "you're good, Gin, but you're only one person. You can't pass to yourself, you know. I reckon all we need is one decent Beater and one more good Chaser and we should be fine."
All turned as two pairs of footsteps echoed through the hall. The first belonged to Professor McGonagall, who was wearing her nightcap and tartan robe. The second person to enter the Great Hall was a tall, well-built male with sandy brown hair and tanned skin. Lavender and Parvati, who had appeared in the doorway a few seconds after McGonagall and the guest, stood there and gaped at him.
"Hermione," she said stiffly, drawing to a stop next to where they were seated at the head of the table, "this is Theodred of Rohan, an exchange student from our sister school in Middle Earth. Theodred wasn't going to attend, but the head of the Middle Earth Wizarding Academy decided that since she had already brought one student back from the dead in the form of Boromir of Gondor-"
"I wish she'd left him dead," Hermione muttered.
"-it was only fair that Theodred should be able to attend," McGonagall continued as if she hadn't heard Hermione's complaint. "Besides, I do believe that our house Quidditch team is a Beater or two short?"
The four students were silent when McGonagall left, then bombarded the stranger with questions. "You've been sorted into Gryffindor?" Ginny gaped.
"Do you play Quidditch?" Harry asked him.
"No, but I shot an Orc from one hundred yards as a nine year old, killed a wild boar with my bare hands when I was twelve, and recently rode for four days straight trying to outrun a Nazgul," Theodred replied. "I can wield a sword, knives, a battleaxe and mase in battle, am considered the best horseman in the Riddermark, am comfortable dealing with an adult-sized troll and-"
Harry and Ron shared a look. "Yep, I believe he's well-equipped to take on Crabbe and Goyle," Ron said.
"You're in," Harry told Theodred. "But don't kill them - tempting as it is - just send heaps of Bludgers their way."
"What are Bludgers?" Theodred asked.
"They're hard little black balls you hit at the other team whenever possible, especially their Seeker," Ginny explained.
"Ah," Theodred's face cleared. "We play a similar game back in Edoras, but riding horses, not broomsticks, and with Orcs heads instead of Bludgers." Ron and Harry shared a look that said *Don't ask*. "Now, could you tell me whether or not Boromir was sorted into this house? We have a lot to catch up on. It's hard to keep tabs on the gossip network when you're dead."
"Or possessed," Ginny added. Hermione turned to look at her. "What?"
"Is Boromir a friend of yours?" Hermione asked thinly. Theodred nodded. "Well, then, would you mind explaining to me why he is such a sleaze?"
"I don't pretend to understand Gondorians," Theodred shrugged. "Now, I'll bid you good-day." He turned on his heel and strode out of the room.
"Nice arse," Ginny said.
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I can't open the review page right now, but I promise to have the new chapter up every soon, something about Eowyn laying the smack-down to the apathetic Hufflepuffs about Quidditch and Gollum acting like Kreacher. Thanks for being so patient with me!
Shameless self-plug here: If you like "Truth or Dare" fics, I just finished "Natalia Adani and the Boys of Hogwarts." You probably don't want to read the previous 19 chapters, but the last one works as a stand-alone truth or dare and is just crazy.
Anyway, onto the chapter!
# # # # # # # # #
Chapter Eight: Banter over Breakfast
"I can't take this anymore," Hermione groaned, burying in her head in her hands.
"You'll just have to tell Cho that you can't do duty tonight," Harry said, yawning.
"And have a decent cup of coffee," Ron said, his hands shaking so much that he had drowned half his scrambled eggs in espresso. "That green tea crap you and Frodo drink won't do shit."
"Well at least it won't give me the shakes like I'm some kind of drug addict," Hermione told him, reaching for a fat-free cinnamon bun. The threesome plus Frodo were sitting around the Gryffindor table, hollow-eyed and weary. Harry was on to his second cup of coffee and Ron had consumed too many to count.
"In a sense caffeine is a drug," Frodo corrected Hermione. "So you would not need to say "like a drug addict" but just leave it as "drug addict," if you like."
"Good point," Hermione beamed. Harry gave a small smile. Funny how Hermione was grossly offended whenever the new Ravenclaw prefect Faramir corrected her, but didn't seem to mind when Frodo did it. "Actually, Frodo, you're so perfect and wonderful and you drink green tea. Will you marry me? It's a joke," she added, seeing the hobbit spit out his freshly-squeezed orange juice.
"Just ask Neville to cover your shift tonight," Harry suggested. "How he slept through the terrible two's infernal racket last night, I'll never know."
Ron's mug in front of him was empty. "Geez, what I really want right now is some more coffee," he said out loud. Instantly his cup was filled with a pitch black mixture, the house elves in the kitchen working their magic. Hermione looked down at the coffee in distaste. "Thanks," Ron said and drained the mug.
"You're going to die of a stomach ulcer by the time you're thirty," Hermione told him.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Harry joked. "Who knows, maybe the world could do with one less Weasley?" Ron pretended to look hurt.
"Speaking of Weasleys, here's your sister," Hermione warned. Ginny was walking into the great hall clad in her crimson Quidditch robes, her broomstick slung over her shoulder. At the sight of her Frodo straightened in his seat.
"Ginny!" Ron called happily as she approached, far too happily for any older brother unless he was planning to majorally humiliate his sister. Ginny was a smart girl, and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "So, Gin, now that you've turned Dean, which guy are you shagging now?" Ron asked her.
"That's none of your business," Ginny retorted, plopping down next to Hermione. "And FYI, Dean isn't gay. He's, um, creative."
"Really?" Ron grinned. "How so?"
"Am I the only one here who finds it really strange and disturbing that Ron is making insinuations about his baby sister's sex life?" Harry asked.
"Quite right," Hermione said, at the same time as Ginny snapped, "I'm not a baby, like you'd ever notice!"
"I've noticed," Frodo said quickly. He caught Hermione staring at him and quickly ducked his head.
"So, fearless leader," Ginny said, turning to Harry who was the new Gryffindor Quidditch captain, "tryouts still on this morning?"
"Wha'?" Harry blinked.
"Quid. Itch. Try. Outs," Ginny repeated and rolled her eyes. "Oh, poor Harry, did no one tell you about those? You're only the captain."
Harry swore and smacked his forehead. Hermione tut-tutted. "Bugger, that means I have them to," Ron said.
"Well, since you "are" the goal-keeper, one may assume that you are indeed on the team," Ginny snapped. "It appears I'm going to have to get everyone motivated around here. Honestly, if you wanted something said, ask a man, but if you want something done, then ask a woman."
"Here, here," Frodo backed her up. Harry gave him a strange look.
"So, since Angelina, Alicia, Katie and the twins all left last year, we have two Beaters and - with me being one this year - two Chasers to replace," Ginny continued. "Let's forget about Kirke and Sloper for now. They were a joke."
"Must you talk about Quidditch so early in the morning?" Ron groaned. "It's like having Oliver Wood back again."
"I think Ginny should be captain," Frodo said.
"I was beginning to like you, mate," Harry said and glared at him. Ginny, meanwhile, was not glaring at Frodo, but beaming at him.
"Well, with three decent Chasers last year and a good Seeker we could get by with crap Beaters," Ron began, suddenly animated now that his cup of coffee had kicked in. "But with the Chasers we'll probably have "this" year- "
"Ahem," Ginny said.
"-I mean, I mean," Ron said hurriedly, seeing that Ginny was wacking her broom threateningly into the palm of her hand, "you're good, Gin, but you're only one person. You can't pass to yourself, you know. I reckon all we need is one decent Beater and one more good Chaser and we should be fine."
All turned as two pairs of footsteps echoed through the hall. The first belonged to Professor McGonagall, who was wearing her nightcap and tartan robe. The second person to enter the Great Hall was a tall, well-built male with sandy brown hair and tanned skin. Lavender and Parvati, who had appeared in the doorway a few seconds after McGonagall and the guest, stood there and gaped at him.
"Hermione," she said stiffly, drawing to a stop next to where they were seated at the head of the table, "this is Theodred of Rohan, an exchange student from our sister school in Middle Earth. Theodred wasn't going to attend, but the head of the Middle Earth Wizarding Academy decided that since she had already brought one student back from the dead in the form of Boromir of Gondor-"
"I wish she'd left him dead," Hermione muttered.
"-it was only fair that Theodred should be able to attend," McGonagall continued as if she hadn't heard Hermione's complaint. "Besides, I do believe that our house Quidditch team is a Beater or two short?"
The four students were silent when McGonagall left, then bombarded the stranger with questions. "You've been sorted into Gryffindor?" Ginny gaped.
"Do you play Quidditch?" Harry asked him.
"No, but I shot an Orc from one hundred yards as a nine year old, killed a wild boar with my bare hands when I was twelve, and recently rode for four days straight trying to outrun a Nazgul," Theodred replied. "I can wield a sword, knives, a battleaxe and mase in battle, am considered the best horseman in the Riddermark, am comfortable dealing with an adult-sized troll and-"
Harry and Ron shared a look. "Yep, I believe he's well-equipped to take on Crabbe and Goyle," Ron said.
"You're in," Harry told Theodred. "But don't kill them - tempting as it is - just send heaps of Bludgers their way."
"What are Bludgers?" Theodred asked.
"They're hard little black balls you hit at the other team whenever possible, especially their Seeker," Ginny explained.
"Ah," Theodred's face cleared. "We play a similar game back in Edoras, but riding horses, not broomsticks, and with Orcs heads instead of Bludgers." Ron and Harry shared a look that said *Don't ask*. "Now, could you tell me whether or not Boromir was sorted into this house? We have a lot to catch up on. It's hard to keep tabs on the gossip network when you're dead."
"Or possessed," Ginny added. Hermione turned to look at her. "What?"
"Is Boromir a friend of yours?" Hermione asked thinly. Theodred nodded. "Well, then, would you mind explaining to me why he is such a sleaze?"
"I don't pretend to understand Gondorians," Theodred shrugged. "Now, I'll bid you good-day." He turned on his heel and strode out of the room.
"Nice arse," Ginny said.
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I can't open the review page right now, but I promise to have the new chapter up every soon, something about Eowyn laying the smack-down to the apathetic Hufflepuffs about Quidditch and Gollum acting like Kreacher. Thanks for being so patient with me!