A/N: THANK YOU to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter!
You guys are the greatest! This part picks up just as the trio arrives at
Hermione's house. I actually loved writing this chapter, so I'm hoping
that you guys enjoy it. Good things to come- I swear!
Disclaimer: None of them are mine.
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When Harry first glimpsed Hermione's house, he was instantly awe-struck. It was one of the largest houses he had ever seen, and his first thought was that it was much, much too large for a family of three. It was in a London suburb, tucked in a neighborhood of several other huge houses. Dr. Granger pulled the car into a garage that held three other cars, and Harry chanced a glance at Ron who looked just as awed as Harry felt.
Hermione opened her door and stepped out, walking around to the trunk of the car to retrieve her bag. Harry and Ron stayed in the car for a moment, both staring at each other in bewilderment.
"Aren't you boys going to get out?" Hermione's mum was smiling at them kindly from outside Hermione's open door.
They both looked up at her, shocked for a second before nodding slightly and getting out of the car. Once they'd gotten their bags, Hermione led them through the garage to an opening into the house. She stood aside while her father unlocked the door and held it open for the three teenagers to enter.
The door opened into the kitchen, and Harry was instantly shocked at the fact that this kitchen seemed to be even neater than Aunt Petunia's. Something told him, though, that Hermione's mum hired someone to come in and do the cleaning, as she seemed much too busy and this house seemed much too large for her to keep up by herself. The kitchen was huge, and the refrigerator, countertops, and everything else were done in a very modern looking silver.
"The living room is through there," Hermione said, pointing to a door while struggling to hold her bag with one hand. "But you can get to bedrooms up this way." She used her free hand to once again help steady her bag before leading them up a staircase in the corner of the kitchen. Harry looked over at Ron who, too, hadn't said a word since they'd arrived. The redhead seemed to be taking in everything in just as much, if not more, awe than Harry was.
Hermione finally reached the top of the staircase and waited for the two boys to join her on the second landing. "There's five bedrooms," she explained. "But the only ones that get used are mine and my parents, so you two can pick whichever ones you want. I'll show you where the extra ones are."
She lead them past a closed door that Harry guessed was the master bedroom and past what Harry could tell was a very large bathroom. Then she arrived at a point in the hall where two doors stood to her right and one stood to her left. "These are the guest rooms." She set her bag on the floor and opened each door in turn. "These two are bigger," she said, motioning to the two on her right, "so you'll probably want these. But you're welcome to any of them."
Harry shrugged and glanced at Ron who shrugged, too. Hermione stared at them expectantly for only a moment before rolling her eyes and saying, "Fine. Harry, you take this one, and Ron you take that one."
Harry couldn't help but grin as he followed her orders and entered the room she had set aside for him. It was close to the size of the room he and Ron had shared at the coast, much, much larger than his own bedroom on Privet Drive. It looked like something out of a Bed and Breakfast catalogue, and he half-expected to find a mint on the pillow. He placed his bag on the floor and turned around to see Hermione watching him from the doorway.
"Is it alright?" she asked, a half-smile on her lips.
Harry wanted to roll his eyes at her rather stupid question, but he opted to just nod and say, "Yeah, it's fine." Then he furrowed his brow and said, "Hermione, why do you have five bedrooms when only three people live here and two of those share a room?"
Hermione laughed a little and shrugged. "We haven't always lived here. We moved here when I was nine. Before that, we lived in a two bedroom flat."
Harry nodded absently before saying, "Where's Ron?"
At that moment, Ron appeared beside Hermione in the doorway. Hermione looked up at him. "Is the room okay?"
Ron looked at her as though she'd grown a second head. "Of course it is!"
Hermione smiled a little. "Good."
"Where's your room, Hermione?" Harry asked, walking toward his friends and joining them in the hall.
Hermione pointed to the room at the end of the hall, next to Harry's. "Right there. If you carry my bag, I'll give you the grand tour," she teased lightly.
Harry bent down and picked up her bag, staggering a little under the weight. Her bag was much, much heavier than his own. "Good God, Hermione! Don't tell me you brought schoolbooks with you!"
Hermione blushed a little and said, "Of course I did. We still have to keep up our studies even if we are on holiday. The O.W.L.s are coming up in less than five months!"
Ron rolled his eyes. "I will never understand you."
Hermione rolled her own eyes. "Well, no one is forcing you to. Now do you want to see my room or not?"
Both boys nodded and followed her the short distance to her door. As soon as she'd opened it and let them in, Harry's mouth fell open. Her room was nearly twice the size of the huge one he would be staying in, and it was absolutely spotless. But that wasn't the strangest thing about it...
"This is such a girls' room!"
Ron's exclamation just about summed it all up.
It was true; the walls were painted a light beige color, while the rest of the room was done completely in pale yellow. A canopy bed stood in the middle of the room, yellow hangings falling down to drape over a wrought- iron bed complete with yellow bedding. Against one wall set a huge oak desk upon which rested the most modern of computers. Against another wall was a matching oak bookcase that held not books, surprisingly, but shelf after shelf of medals and trophies. A small wooden doll cradle sat in one corner complete with, from the looks of it, a very expensive porcelain baby doll in a white christening gown. A print of a Degas painting hung against one wall, directly opposite a huge bay window covered by flowing yellow drapes.
Harry's mouth was open in somewhat shock.
Hermione stared from Ron to Harry and then back again. "Oh, shut it, both of you," she said hastily. "And I know it's a girls' room, Ron," she said haughtily. "I am a girl, you know?"
"I know," Ron said, staring around the room. "But this isn't what I expected your room to look like."
"What did you expect?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips in anticipation.
"Well, for one thing," Ron said slowly. "Where're all your books?" He was eyeing the bookshelf.
"In the library downstairs."
Harry had to fight down laughter at the look on Ron's face. He was gaping at Hermione. "You have a library?" he asked in shock. "In your house? You have a library in your house?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows at him and gave him a bewildered look. "Did I suddenly develop a stuttering problem that I'm not aware of yet?"
Harry snickered at that, but Ron just shook his head and said, "Why doesn't it surprise me that you have a library in your house? It's so typical."
"What are all these awards for?" Harry asked, bypassing the argument that was sure to incur.
Hermione blushed a little and shrugged. "Just different stuff. School and horseback riding and music and stuff like that."
"I didn't know you rode horses," he said, turning to her.
She nodded. "I used to do it competitively before I started Hogwarts."
Harry was surprised, as he'd never heard her mention anything about it before. "Do you have a horse?"
She nodded as she tugged her bag out of the center of the floor where Harry had dropped it and heaved it onto her bed. "Yes, but he's in a stable in the country." She walked over to the bookshelf and stood on tiptoe to retrieve a framed photograph. "Here's a picture of him," she said, holding the frame out to Harry. "His name is Dante."
Harry looked down at the picture and saw a vision from the past. There beside a beautiful black horse stood the very same girl he'd met on the Hogwarts Express five years ago. A glance at the year on the trophy she was holding in the photo confirmed his guess."
"This was the year we started Hogwarts," he said as he passed the picture to Ron.
Hermione nodded. "Yeah, I think it was maybe two months before or something."
Ron laughed a little. "You looked so different then."
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "And that's funny?" But she was teasing, and she broke into a good-natured smile.
Ron smiled and held the picture back out to her. "What kind of music do you do?"
"Huh?" Hermione reached back up and placed the picture back on the shelf.
"You said you had awards for music," Ron said as she turned back around.
"Oh!" She shook her head as though she was jerking herself out of some sort of reverie. "Violin and piano," she said absently.
"Yeah?" Harry asked, interested in all this new information he was finding out about her. "Are you any good?"
She shrugged. "I haven't played either in a long time, so probably not anymore."
"Did you like it?" Ron asked with raised eyebrows.
Hermione shrugged again. "I liked piano, I guess. I hated violin, though."
"Why did you take it then?" Harry asked.
"Because my parents made me. I started lessons when I was four, and they made me take them until I started Hogwarts."
"They made you?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
Hermione shrugged again. "They made me do a lot of things."
"Like what else?" Ron asked curiously as he took it upon himself to perch himself onto Hermione's fluffy bed.
Hermione shook her head at this and said, "Nothing. Never mind."
Of course, this only piqued Harry and Ron's interest even more. "No, not never mind," Ron said, grinning slyly. "Tell us what else you used to do."
Hermione sent him a sharp look and said, "Nothing," while inconspicuously shoving something around on the shelf behind her.
Harry noticed and, of course, marched right over to the shelf to see what she was so obviously trying to hide. He looked behind a trophy for the highest average in English from her fourth year of Primary School and saw something that instantly made him crack up with laughter. Hermione darted in front of him before he could retrieve the object, though, and shot him a contemptuous look. "Go away," she said dangerously.
Harry smirked and shook his head as he deftly grabbed her around the middle with one arm and used his free hand to produce a very tiny pair of ballet shoes. Just as Hermione made a move to grab them back, he tossed them across the room to the bed where Ron lunged and caught them easily- his Keeper reflexes in full use.
Ron looked down at them for only a second before erupting into very loud laughter. "Ballet?!" he cried, almost in tears from laughing so hard. "You did ballet, Hermione?!"
Hermione glared at him, her face a deep scarlet color now. "Shut up."
Harry and Ron couldn't contain themselves, though, and Harry joined Ron on the bed so they could laugh together. "Look how little they are!" Harry said between fits of laughter.
Ron looked up at Hermione and said, "Awe! Ickle 'Mione, prima ballerina."
Hermione marched over to the boys and grabbed the shoes from them, glaring evilly at them both. "I didn't enjoy it!"
"Sure, 'Mione," Harry said lazily. "That explains why you kept your shoes and have a Degas print hanging on your wall."
Hermione blushed even more. "I kept the shoes because my mother wanted me to. And I have the Degas print because he is a wonderful painter, and I happen to have an appreciation for fine art." She said all of this very haughtily.
Ron and Harry, though, were not convinced in the least. Ron bit down on his lower lip in order to ask the next question without erupting into hysterics. "So, did you wear a tutu?"
Harry thought his lungs were going to burst from laughing so hard at the suggestion. Hermione was giving Ron the harshest of glares, and Harry could tell she was about to explode.
Deciding that Hermione exploding was always a bit of amusement, he pushed her further. "Do you have any pictures?" Harry asked gleefully.
"Yeah!" Ron spoke up instantly. "Let us see, Hermione!"
Hermione looked as if she was ready to kill them both. "I don't have any pictures," she said evenly.
Ron and Harry looked at each other with identical smirks. Turning back to their female best friend, Harry nodded casually. "Okay. Guess we'll just have to ask your mum then."
Ron, too, nodded nonchalantly. "I'm sure she'll be able to dig something up." He couldn't hide his grin. "Probably even find some photos of naked baby Hermione in a sink or something."
Hermione glared at them again. "I hate you both," she said seriously. "Do you know that? I really, really hate you."
Ron and Harry just smirked at her. Harry nodded and said sweetly, "Love you too, 'Mione."
In a great huff, Hermione turned around and threw open the door to her closet. She reached onto a shelf and retrieved a large black photo album. Furiously thumbing the pages, she finally found what she was looking for and thrust it roughly at the boys. "Here!" she said, never breaking the glare.
Harry took the album into his lap, and he and Ron looked down at the page she had it opened to. Nothing in the world could have contained their guffawing at the sight before them. A very, very small Hermione of maybe five or six was grinning broadly at the camera, a very sizable gap where her front teeth should have been. She had her hair pulled into two braided plaits that bushed out at the end, and she was, in fact, wearing a pink leotard and tights complete with a fluffy pink tutu. She was standing on the balls of her feet with her arms stretched high over her head in a sort of half-circle.
Harry found breathing very hard as he stared at the picture, and Ron actually had to put his head on his lap to keep from convulsing. Hermione stood with her arms crossed until they'd calmed and then she pursed her lips and said, "I'm glad you both find it so amusing."
"It's funny, Hermione," Harry said, still forcing down giggles.
"But too bad this is a Muggle photo," Ron said, smiling, "because I'd love to see you dancing!"
Harry once again was overcome by a fit of laugher, and Hermione just rolled her eyes. "Oh, give me the book," she said testily.
Harry jerked it out of her reach just in time, though. "Let us look at the rest of it." He grinned up at her. "Please? We'll be your best friends..."
Hermione rolled her eyes again and finally perched herself on the bed on the other side of Harry, grumbling the whole time.
Harry flipped the album back to the first page, and all three of them peered down at it. Ron and Harry had a good time laughing at the pictures of a tiny, curly-headed toddler sitting amongst a mess of wrapping paper and boxes at Christmas, more engrossed in a large volume of fairytales than in the several dolls and toys surrounding her. There were pictures of a four year old Hermione balancing a violin almost bigger than her body on her shoulder. They saw pictures of Hermione in her Primary School uniform on her first day of school and pictures of her kindergarten class. They all laughed at a picture of a very stern looking Hermione giving a lecture to a "classroom" full of dolls and stuffed animals while pointing at a miniature blackboard complete with an algebra problem that looked much too complex for the seven year old in the picture. There were pictures that Hermione found absolutely appalling, of course, and while there were no naked Hermione in a sink pictures, they did see a picture of three year old Hermione up to her chin in nothing but bubbles. But, the worst by far was a picture of her as a four year old asleep on the family couch with a book open on her stomach, clad in nothing but a T-shirt and a pair of Winnie the Pooh panties with her thumb stuck in her mouth; she blushed about nine shades of red as she tried desperately to cover the photo with her hand. Harry and Ron, of course, forced her hand away and laughed even harder than they had at the ballet picture.
"Why the hell did they take pictures like that?!" Hermione asked loudly as her face flushed for the thousandth time that afternoon.
"Hermione, don't swear," Ron said in mock-seriousness before joining Harry in laughing.
"Look at you sucking your thumb." Harry grinned wickedly at the girl on his left.
Hermione glared at him. "How else did you think my teeth got so big?" The boys doubled over again.
They went back to the photo album and happened upon pictures from several Halloweens. "You're parents let you go Trick-or-Treating?" Harry asked curiously, figuring that dentists probably frowned on the tradition.
Hermione nodded. "Yes, but only to four houses a year. They said that's all the sweets I was allowed."
Ron snorted. "Must have sucked to have dentists for parents, huh?" Ron was well-versed in Muggle traditions such as Trick-or-Treating.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "No. At least I didn't rot my teeth out or anything like some kids."
They snickered at all of Hermione's various costumes. A princess, a pumpkin, a spider ("What the hell would you want to be a spider for?!" was Ron's response), a clown, and finally.
A witch.
All three of them doubled over with laughter at the last picture. Hermione was dressed as a Muggle's perception of a witch, complete with a black dress, a long black cape, a tall witch's hat, a ratty black wig, green make- up, and, of course, the ever popular large wart on the tip of the nose. She was giving her most menacing snare to the camera and clutching a Muggle broomstick.
"Aren't you glad witches don't really look like that, Hermione?" Harry asked, smiling. "You'd be pretty damn ugly..."
Ron snickered. "I dunno. She kinda looks like McGonagall there." He cocked his head to the side and studied the picture.
Harry cracked up all over again, and it was clear that Hermione was trying very hard to look appalled by Ron's statement. She lost the battle, though, and ended up laughing with the other two.
They looked through several more pages of photos before reaching the end of the book. Ron grinned at Hermione and said, "You do realize that we now have blackmailing material for all eternity, don't you?"
After glaring ruefully at the redhead, Hermione took on a smug look and said, "You just wait until the next time we're at your house, Ron. I'll make sure to ask Mrs. Weasley for all the family photo albums post 1980. "
Harry snickered, but to his surprise, Ron just shrugged. "Go ahead and ask her. You won't find many. By the time they got to me, babies were old news and they were sick of taking pictures." Smirking at her, he added, "Sucks to be an only child, doesn't it?"
Hermione was just about to respond, but a knock at her door interrupted the brewing row. "Yes?" she called in slight annoyance.
Her mother poked her head through the door. "I was just checking to see if you all got settled alright."
"We're fine, Mum," Hermione said shortly.
The older woman nodded and smiled. "Good. I'm going to start dinner shortly, so if you need anything I'll be downstairs."
Ron spoke up before she could leave. "Mrs. uh, Dr. Granger?"
Dr. Granger laughed a little. "Mrs. Granger is fine, dear. We don't play the Dr. and Dr. thing here. Mr. and Mrs. will do."
Ron nodded. "Right. Mrs. Granger, do you happen to have any more photo albums than just this one?" He smiled politely at her as he motioned to the open album on Harry's lap.
Harry bit down on his lip to keep from laughing at the very, very dangerous glare Hermione was emitting in the direction of his best friend. The glare obviously went unnoticed by her mother, though, because she smiled kindly and nodded. "Of course, dear. We have loads of photographs. I'd be more than happy to show you some after dinner."
Ron grinned in what Harry could tell was a hidden smirk and nodded. "That would be great. Thanks!"
She smiled at them once more before leaving and shutting the door behind her. The moment her mother was out of sight, Hermione jumped up and turned to the bed, facing them both angrily. "You prat!" she exclaimed before idly lunging at Ron and shoving him backwards.
Ron laughed as he raised himself back up and caught her wrists before she could shove him again. "What's the matter, 'Mione?" he questioned innocently.
Harry snickered loudly, and Hermione turned her head sharply before twisting her body and aiming a kick at his head. Harry ducked just in time, laughing the whole time. "Did you take Karate, too?" he asked.
Ron laughed. "Nah, they teach high kicks and things like that in ballet."
Hermione then wrenched her wrists free of Ron's hands and shoved him again, succeeding enough in catching him off-guard to land him on his back. She quickly reached for a pillow to wallop him upside the head with. Ron managed to grab her arms once again and yank her onto the bed facedown between himself and Harry. She groaned and quickly flipped herself over to launch another attack, but Harry scooted himself backwards to where he could pin her arms over her head, and Ron wasted no time in actually sitting on her legs to keep them at bay, too.
"Now what are you going to do?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.
Hermione opened her mouth, Harry suspected to curse them both out, but was interrupted once again by a knock at the door. This knocker, though, entered without waiting for permission.
Mr. Granger stopped dead in his tracks, though, as he surveyed the scene before him. Two boys literally pinning his daughter to her bed.
It did not look good.
The three teens all looked up in shock and disentangled themselves from each other in less than a second, all three of their faces burning bright red. There was no silence, though, because Hermione instantly tried to put on her most nonchalant smile and greeted her father. "Hi, Daddy."
Mr. Granger didn't reply right away, though. He studied the scene for several more seconds before speaking. "Hello, Hermione. I was just coming to check and make sure everyone was settled."
"Oh, Mum's already been up," she said, her voice a little higher than normal, twisting a bit on her place between Ron and Harry.
He nodded as though he really didn't care. "Do you think I might have a word with your friends?" he asked, no trace at all of friendliness on his face.
Ron, Harry, and Hermione all exchanged nervous glances. Harry saw that both of his best friends looked just as terrified as he felt, but he nodded uneasily. "Um, sure," he muttered, glancing once more at Hermione before looking meaningfully at Ron who swallowed and nodded a bit.
This was not going to be good...
******************************************** Well? First off, I know that Halloween is not that big of a thing in England, but I couldn't resist adding the part about Hermione's costumes. I want you all to know that I've had most of these parts written since this summer, and I'm very pleased with the plot developments that are very soon to come.
Just remember... Patience is of virtue...
Please review!!!!
Disclaimer: None of them are mine.
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When Harry first glimpsed Hermione's house, he was instantly awe-struck. It was one of the largest houses he had ever seen, and his first thought was that it was much, much too large for a family of three. It was in a London suburb, tucked in a neighborhood of several other huge houses. Dr. Granger pulled the car into a garage that held three other cars, and Harry chanced a glance at Ron who looked just as awed as Harry felt.
Hermione opened her door and stepped out, walking around to the trunk of the car to retrieve her bag. Harry and Ron stayed in the car for a moment, both staring at each other in bewilderment.
"Aren't you boys going to get out?" Hermione's mum was smiling at them kindly from outside Hermione's open door.
They both looked up at her, shocked for a second before nodding slightly and getting out of the car. Once they'd gotten their bags, Hermione led them through the garage to an opening into the house. She stood aside while her father unlocked the door and held it open for the three teenagers to enter.
The door opened into the kitchen, and Harry was instantly shocked at the fact that this kitchen seemed to be even neater than Aunt Petunia's. Something told him, though, that Hermione's mum hired someone to come in and do the cleaning, as she seemed much too busy and this house seemed much too large for her to keep up by herself. The kitchen was huge, and the refrigerator, countertops, and everything else were done in a very modern looking silver.
"The living room is through there," Hermione said, pointing to a door while struggling to hold her bag with one hand. "But you can get to bedrooms up this way." She used her free hand to once again help steady her bag before leading them up a staircase in the corner of the kitchen. Harry looked over at Ron who, too, hadn't said a word since they'd arrived. The redhead seemed to be taking in everything in just as much, if not more, awe than Harry was.
Hermione finally reached the top of the staircase and waited for the two boys to join her on the second landing. "There's five bedrooms," she explained. "But the only ones that get used are mine and my parents, so you two can pick whichever ones you want. I'll show you where the extra ones are."
She lead them past a closed door that Harry guessed was the master bedroom and past what Harry could tell was a very large bathroom. Then she arrived at a point in the hall where two doors stood to her right and one stood to her left. "These are the guest rooms." She set her bag on the floor and opened each door in turn. "These two are bigger," she said, motioning to the two on her right, "so you'll probably want these. But you're welcome to any of them."
Harry shrugged and glanced at Ron who shrugged, too. Hermione stared at them expectantly for only a moment before rolling her eyes and saying, "Fine. Harry, you take this one, and Ron you take that one."
Harry couldn't help but grin as he followed her orders and entered the room she had set aside for him. It was close to the size of the room he and Ron had shared at the coast, much, much larger than his own bedroom on Privet Drive. It looked like something out of a Bed and Breakfast catalogue, and he half-expected to find a mint on the pillow. He placed his bag on the floor and turned around to see Hermione watching him from the doorway.
"Is it alright?" she asked, a half-smile on her lips.
Harry wanted to roll his eyes at her rather stupid question, but he opted to just nod and say, "Yeah, it's fine." Then he furrowed his brow and said, "Hermione, why do you have five bedrooms when only three people live here and two of those share a room?"
Hermione laughed a little and shrugged. "We haven't always lived here. We moved here when I was nine. Before that, we lived in a two bedroom flat."
Harry nodded absently before saying, "Where's Ron?"
At that moment, Ron appeared beside Hermione in the doorway. Hermione looked up at him. "Is the room okay?"
Ron looked at her as though she'd grown a second head. "Of course it is!"
Hermione smiled a little. "Good."
"Where's your room, Hermione?" Harry asked, walking toward his friends and joining them in the hall.
Hermione pointed to the room at the end of the hall, next to Harry's. "Right there. If you carry my bag, I'll give you the grand tour," she teased lightly.
Harry bent down and picked up her bag, staggering a little under the weight. Her bag was much, much heavier than his own. "Good God, Hermione! Don't tell me you brought schoolbooks with you!"
Hermione blushed a little and said, "Of course I did. We still have to keep up our studies even if we are on holiday. The O.W.L.s are coming up in less than five months!"
Ron rolled his eyes. "I will never understand you."
Hermione rolled her own eyes. "Well, no one is forcing you to. Now do you want to see my room or not?"
Both boys nodded and followed her the short distance to her door. As soon as she'd opened it and let them in, Harry's mouth fell open. Her room was nearly twice the size of the huge one he would be staying in, and it was absolutely spotless. But that wasn't the strangest thing about it...
"This is such a girls' room!"
Ron's exclamation just about summed it all up.
It was true; the walls were painted a light beige color, while the rest of the room was done completely in pale yellow. A canopy bed stood in the middle of the room, yellow hangings falling down to drape over a wrought- iron bed complete with yellow bedding. Against one wall set a huge oak desk upon which rested the most modern of computers. Against another wall was a matching oak bookcase that held not books, surprisingly, but shelf after shelf of medals and trophies. A small wooden doll cradle sat in one corner complete with, from the looks of it, a very expensive porcelain baby doll in a white christening gown. A print of a Degas painting hung against one wall, directly opposite a huge bay window covered by flowing yellow drapes.
Harry's mouth was open in somewhat shock.
Hermione stared from Ron to Harry and then back again. "Oh, shut it, both of you," she said hastily. "And I know it's a girls' room, Ron," she said haughtily. "I am a girl, you know?"
"I know," Ron said, staring around the room. "But this isn't what I expected your room to look like."
"What did you expect?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips in anticipation.
"Well, for one thing," Ron said slowly. "Where're all your books?" He was eyeing the bookshelf.
"In the library downstairs."
Harry had to fight down laughter at the look on Ron's face. He was gaping at Hermione. "You have a library?" he asked in shock. "In your house? You have a library in your house?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows at him and gave him a bewildered look. "Did I suddenly develop a stuttering problem that I'm not aware of yet?"
Harry snickered at that, but Ron just shook his head and said, "Why doesn't it surprise me that you have a library in your house? It's so typical."
"What are all these awards for?" Harry asked, bypassing the argument that was sure to incur.
Hermione blushed a little and shrugged. "Just different stuff. School and horseback riding and music and stuff like that."
"I didn't know you rode horses," he said, turning to her.
She nodded. "I used to do it competitively before I started Hogwarts."
Harry was surprised, as he'd never heard her mention anything about it before. "Do you have a horse?"
She nodded as she tugged her bag out of the center of the floor where Harry had dropped it and heaved it onto her bed. "Yes, but he's in a stable in the country." She walked over to the bookshelf and stood on tiptoe to retrieve a framed photograph. "Here's a picture of him," she said, holding the frame out to Harry. "His name is Dante."
Harry looked down at the picture and saw a vision from the past. There beside a beautiful black horse stood the very same girl he'd met on the Hogwarts Express five years ago. A glance at the year on the trophy she was holding in the photo confirmed his guess."
"This was the year we started Hogwarts," he said as he passed the picture to Ron.
Hermione nodded. "Yeah, I think it was maybe two months before or something."
Ron laughed a little. "You looked so different then."
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "And that's funny?" But she was teasing, and she broke into a good-natured smile.
Ron smiled and held the picture back out to her. "What kind of music do you do?"
"Huh?" Hermione reached back up and placed the picture back on the shelf.
"You said you had awards for music," Ron said as she turned back around.
"Oh!" She shook her head as though she was jerking herself out of some sort of reverie. "Violin and piano," she said absently.
"Yeah?" Harry asked, interested in all this new information he was finding out about her. "Are you any good?"
She shrugged. "I haven't played either in a long time, so probably not anymore."
"Did you like it?" Ron asked with raised eyebrows.
Hermione shrugged again. "I liked piano, I guess. I hated violin, though."
"Why did you take it then?" Harry asked.
"Because my parents made me. I started lessons when I was four, and they made me take them until I started Hogwarts."
"They made you?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
Hermione shrugged again. "They made me do a lot of things."
"Like what else?" Ron asked curiously as he took it upon himself to perch himself onto Hermione's fluffy bed.
Hermione shook her head at this and said, "Nothing. Never mind."
Of course, this only piqued Harry and Ron's interest even more. "No, not never mind," Ron said, grinning slyly. "Tell us what else you used to do."
Hermione sent him a sharp look and said, "Nothing," while inconspicuously shoving something around on the shelf behind her.
Harry noticed and, of course, marched right over to the shelf to see what she was so obviously trying to hide. He looked behind a trophy for the highest average in English from her fourth year of Primary School and saw something that instantly made him crack up with laughter. Hermione darted in front of him before he could retrieve the object, though, and shot him a contemptuous look. "Go away," she said dangerously.
Harry smirked and shook his head as he deftly grabbed her around the middle with one arm and used his free hand to produce a very tiny pair of ballet shoes. Just as Hermione made a move to grab them back, he tossed them across the room to the bed where Ron lunged and caught them easily- his Keeper reflexes in full use.
Ron looked down at them for only a second before erupting into very loud laughter. "Ballet?!" he cried, almost in tears from laughing so hard. "You did ballet, Hermione?!"
Hermione glared at him, her face a deep scarlet color now. "Shut up."
Harry and Ron couldn't contain themselves, though, and Harry joined Ron on the bed so they could laugh together. "Look how little they are!" Harry said between fits of laughter.
Ron looked up at Hermione and said, "Awe! Ickle 'Mione, prima ballerina."
Hermione marched over to the boys and grabbed the shoes from them, glaring evilly at them both. "I didn't enjoy it!"
"Sure, 'Mione," Harry said lazily. "That explains why you kept your shoes and have a Degas print hanging on your wall."
Hermione blushed even more. "I kept the shoes because my mother wanted me to. And I have the Degas print because he is a wonderful painter, and I happen to have an appreciation for fine art." She said all of this very haughtily.
Ron and Harry, though, were not convinced in the least. Ron bit down on his lower lip in order to ask the next question without erupting into hysterics. "So, did you wear a tutu?"
Harry thought his lungs were going to burst from laughing so hard at the suggestion. Hermione was giving Ron the harshest of glares, and Harry could tell she was about to explode.
Deciding that Hermione exploding was always a bit of amusement, he pushed her further. "Do you have any pictures?" Harry asked gleefully.
"Yeah!" Ron spoke up instantly. "Let us see, Hermione!"
Hermione looked as if she was ready to kill them both. "I don't have any pictures," she said evenly.
Ron and Harry looked at each other with identical smirks. Turning back to their female best friend, Harry nodded casually. "Okay. Guess we'll just have to ask your mum then."
Ron, too, nodded nonchalantly. "I'm sure she'll be able to dig something up." He couldn't hide his grin. "Probably even find some photos of naked baby Hermione in a sink or something."
Hermione glared at them again. "I hate you both," she said seriously. "Do you know that? I really, really hate you."
Ron and Harry just smirked at her. Harry nodded and said sweetly, "Love you too, 'Mione."
In a great huff, Hermione turned around and threw open the door to her closet. She reached onto a shelf and retrieved a large black photo album. Furiously thumbing the pages, she finally found what she was looking for and thrust it roughly at the boys. "Here!" she said, never breaking the glare.
Harry took the album into his lap, and he and Ron looked down at the page she had it opened to. Nothing in the world could have contained their guffawing at the sight before them. A very, very small Hermione of maybe five or six was grinning broadly at the camera, a very sizable gap where her front teeth should have been. She had her hair pulled into two braided plaits that bushed out at the end, and she was, in fact, wearing a pink leotard and tights complete with a fluffy pink tutu. She was standing on the balls of her feet with her arms stretched high over her head in a sort of half-circle.
Harry found breathing very hard as he stared at the picture, and Ron actually had to put his head on his lap to keep from convulsing. Hermione stood with her arms crossed until they'd calmed and then she pursed her lips and said, "I'm glad you both find it so amusing."
"It's funny, Hermione," Harry said, still forcing down giggles.
"But too bad this is a Muggle photo," Ron said, smiling, "because I'd love to see you dancing!"
Harry once again was overcome by a fit of laugher, and Hermione just rolled her eyes. "Oh, give me the book," she said testily.
Harry jerked it out of her reach just in time, though. "Let us look at the rest of it." He grinned up at her. "Please? We'll be your best friends..."
Hermione rolled her eyes again and finally perched herself on the bed on the other side of Harry, grumbling the whole time.
Harry flipped the album back to the first page, and all three of them peered down at it. Ron and Harry had a good time laughing at the pictures of a tiny, curly-headed toddler sitting amongst a mess of wrapping paper and boxes at Christmas, more engrossed in a large volume of fairytales than in the several dolls and toys surrounding her. There were pictures of a four year old Hermione balancing a violin almost bigger than her body on her shoulder. They saw pictures of Hermione in her Primary School uniform on her first day of school and pictures of her kindergarten class. They all laughed at a picture of a very stern looking Hermione giving a lecture to a "classroom" full of dolls and stuffed animals while pointing at a miniature blackboard complete with an algebra problem that looked much too complex for the seven year old in the picture. There were pictures that Hermione found absolutely appalling, of course, and while there were no naked Hermione in a sink pictures, they did see a picture of three year old Hermione up to her chin in nothing but bubbles. But, the worst by far was a picture of her as a four year old asleep on the family couch with a book open on her stomach, clad in nothing but a T-shirt and a pair of Winnie the Pooh panties with her thumb stuck in her mouth; she blushed about nine shades of red as she tried desperately to cover the photo with her hand. Harry and Ron, of course, forced her hand away and laughed even harder than they had at the ballet picture.
"Why the hell did they take pictures like that?!" Hermione asked loudly as her face flushed for the thousandth time that afternoon.
"Hermione, don't swear," Ron said in mock-seriousness before joining Harry in laughing.
"Look at you sucking your thumb." Harry grinned wickedly at the girl on his left.
Hermione glared at him. "How else did you think my teeth got so big?" The boys doubled over again.
They went back to the photo album and happened upon pictures from several Halloweens. "You're parents let you go Trick-or-Treating?" Harry asked curiously, figuring that dentists probably frowned on the tradition.
Hermione nodded. "Yes, but only to four houses a year. They said that's all the sweets I was allowed."
Ron snorted. "Must have sucked to have dentists for parents, huh?" Ron was well-versed in Muggle traditions such as Trick-or-Treating.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "No. At least I didn't rot my teeth out or anything like some kids."
They snickered at all of Hermione's various costumes. A princess, a pumpkin, a spider ("What the hell would you want to be a spider for?!" was Ron's response), a clown, and finally.
A witch.
All three of them doubled over with laughter at the last picture. Hermione was dressed as a Muggle's perception of a witch, complete with a black dress, a long black cape, a tall witch's hat, a ratty black wig, green make- up, and, of course, the ever popular large wart on the tip of the nose. She was giving her most menacing snare to the camera and clutching a Muggle broomstick.
"Aren't you glad witches don't really look like that, Hermione?" Harry asked, smiling. "You'd be pretty damn ugly..."
Ron snickered. "I dunno. She kinda looks like McGonagall there." He cocked his head to the side and studied the picture.
Harry cracked up all over again, and it was clear that Hermione was trying very hard to look appalled by Ron's statement. She lost the battle, though, and ended up laughing with the other two.
They looked through several more pages of photos before reaching the end of the book. Ron grinned at Hermione and said, "You do realize that we now have blackmailing material for all eternity, don't you?"
After glaring ruefully at the redhead, Hermione took on a smug look and said, "You just wait until the next time we're at your house, Ron. I'll make sure to ask Mrs. Weasley for all the family photo albums post 1980. "
Harry snickered, but to his surprise, Ron just shrugged. "Go ahead and ask her. You won't find many. By the time they got to me, babies were old news and they were sick of taking pictures." Smirking at her, he added, "Sucks to be an only child, doesn't it?"
Hermione was just about to respond, but a knock at her door interrupted the brewing row. "Yes?" she called in slight annoyance.
Her mother poked her head through the door. "I was just checking to see if you all got settled alright."
"We're fine, Mum," Hermione said shortly.
The older woman nodded and smiled. "Good. I'm going to start dinner shortly, so if you need anything I'll be downstairs."
Ron spoke up before she could leave. "Mrs. uh, Dr. Granger?"
Dr. Granger laughed a little. "Mrs. Granger is fine, dear. We don't play the Dr. and Dr. thing here. Mr. and Mrs. will do."
Ron nodded. "Right. Mrs. Granger, do you happen to have any more photo albums than just this one?" He smiled politely at her as he motioned to the open album on Harry's lap.
Harry bit down on his lip to keep from laughing at the very, very dangerous glare Hermione was emitting in the direction of his best friend. The glare obviously went unnoticed by her mother, though, because she smiled kindly and nodded. "Of course, dear. We have loads of photographs. I'd be more than happy to show you some after dinner."
Ron grinned in what Harry could tell was a hidden smirk and nodded. "That would be great. Thanks!"
She smiled at them once more before leaving and shutting the door behind her. The moment her mother was out of sight, Hermione jumped up and turned to the bed, facing them both angrily. "You prat!" she exclaimed before idly lunging at Ron and shoving him backwards.
Ron laughed as he raised himself back up and caught her wrists before she could shove him again. "What's the matter, 'Mione?" he questioned innocently.
Harry snickered loudly, and Hermione turned her head sharply before twisting her body and aiming a kick at his head. Harry ducked just in time, laughing the whole time. "Did you take Karate, too?" he asked.
Ron laughed. "Nah, they teach high kicks and things like that in ballet."
Hermione then wrenched her wrists free of Ron's hands and shoved him again, succeeding enough in catching him off-guard to land him on his back. She quickly reached for a pillow to wallop him upside the head with. Ron managed to grab her arms once again and yank her onto the bed facedown between himself and Harry. She groaned and quickly flipped herself over to launch another attack, but Harry scooted himself backwards to where he could pin her arms over her head, and Ron wasted no time in actually sitting on her legs to keep them at bay, too.
"Now what are you going to do?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.
Hermione opened her mouth, Harry suspected to curse them both out, but was interrupted once again by a knock at the door. This knocker, though, entered without waiting for permission.
Mr. Granger stopped dead in his tracks, though, as he surveyed the scene before him. Two boys literally pinning his daughter to her bed.
It did not look good.
The three teens all looked up in shock and disentangled themselves from each other in less than a second, all three of their faces burning bright red. There was no silence, though, because Hermione instantly tried to put on her most nonchalant smile and greeted her father. "Hi, Daddy."
Mr. Granger didn't reply right away, though. He studied the scene for several more seconds before speaking. "Hello, Hermione. I was just coming to check and make sure everyone was settled."
"Oh, Mum's already been up," she said, her voice a little higher than normal, twisting a bit on her place between Ron and Harry.
He nodded as though he really didn't care. "Do you think I might have a word with your friends?" he asked, no trace at all of friendliness on his face.
Ron, Harry, and Hermione all exchanged nervous glances. Harry saw that both of his best friends looked just as terrified as he felt, but he nodded uneasily. "Um, sure," he muttered, glancing once more at Hermione before looking meaningfully at Ron who swallowed and nodded a bit.
This was not going to be good...
******************************************** Well? First off, I know that Halloween is not that big of a thing in England, but I couldn't resist adding the part about Hermione's costumes. I want you all to know that I've had most of these parts written since this summer, and I'm very pleased with the plot developments that are very soon to come.
Just remember... Patience is of virtue...
Please review!!!!
