Ack, I took forever to post this because of my ginormous english project
which I left to the last minute..again..
Author's Notes: Ok, I am making suppositions here. I am going to say that Hermione is a pretty good skier, or that she is at least experienced. I am going to pretend there are some wizards who like skiing (though it can't be much in comparison to broomsticks). Also, I forgot to do a disclaimer last time, so here it is: I do not own Harry Potter. I have no permission to use him in my stories. He belongs to JK Rowling, ect. I'm writing for fun and not to make a profit except to my own self-esteem. Thanks for not suing me.
Ok, and just to make things clear: YES, I have read the fifth book. This story does NOT take place in the summer holidays - I have made up a random holiday at the "end of third- term" at Hogwarts (pretending that the year is split into four terms, like it is in NZ) - so this story takes place about three-quarters of the way through the school year. WE ARE NOT IN THE SUMMER HOLIDAYS HERE, WE ARE SOMEWHERE BETWEEN SUMMER AND CHRISTMAS. This particular school break holiday is never mentioned in the book - but hey, if they didn't say we CAN'T have it.? Ok, I'm glad we got that all cleared up.
(yoda is checking you out).
Ok, back to the story!
---[]---
They arrived at the Wizarding Travel Agency on early Tuesday morning, Mrs Weasley's cries of "CHECK YOU'VE GOT ALL YOU'RE WARM CLOTHING, RON!" still ringing in their ears. The red-head was still grumbling about how he had somehow been tricked into going on the trip, and seemed liable to explode at any minute. However, ten pairs of feet walked into the Travel Agency with a script already rehearsed in their heads.
The room was seemed very sharp, lit by a bright glowing orb hanging from the ceiling. It was the sort of room in which everything has its proper place, and it made the four feel slightly uncomfortable under the bright light. An especially sharp and organised woman was sitting behind the desk, sorting papers with flicks of her wand. She looked up as a bell over the door tinkled and stared at them.
Hermione smiled and brandished the competition slips like a sword.
"You're the winner of the Skiing Trip?" the woman asked uncertainly, still staring at Harry with his hand on the head of a large black dog.
"Yes, that's me," Hermione smiled confidently. The large black dog sat down and poked his tongue out in a friendly way, his tail wagging cheerfully behind his rump.
The woman took the papers and inspected them suspiciously, still glancing nervously at the animal. After a few moments of silence her gaze swept the three males and she gulped, "are these - your three companions?"
"Indeed," said Hermione, still smiling sweetly, "the letter said to be here at eight o'clock today, so does that mean we'll be leaving soon? All our luggage is out the front."
The woman ruffled through the papers as if trying to distract them while she thought. Finally she stood up, looking slightly less professional then she had a few minutes ago, and bowed quickly, "excuse me, I just need to have a word with the organiser of the competition," and with that she scurried out as if a horde of dementors were on her tail.
They waited patiently. Ron took a look at the travel opportunities displayed on posters around the walls (See the Magical Zoos of Berne: Visit Switzerland now!.cool off at Fiji's Replenishing Mage-Springs!.Don't delay - find out the truth of Easter Island Today!). Sirius, in dog form of course, sniffed at a skinny pink parrot perched by the window, which Harry had taken to be stuffed. But it squawked warningly at the beast, and puffed itself up like a balloon.
"Hello! Hello! Wonderful to meet you!" came a rich, melodious voice, and Harry tore his eyes away from the bird to watch a very tall, pointy man with a navy-blue cloak shaking hands warmly with Hermione as if he had known her for years, "come, come and sit down. My name is Malory Algernon," he hurried around the counter and dropped into one of the plastic chairs around a small silver coffee table in the corner of the room. Harry and Ron glanced at Hermione but followed her lead and the three of them sat down as well. A pot of tea appeared along with four mugs and a plate of biscuits.
"Well, very independent of you to all come on your own!" Algernon smiled, pouring a greenish tea into each of the cups, "have you been skiing before?" he asked Hermione.
"Yes, but I don't pretend to be an expert," she smiled, taking a mug from him. Harry sipped a little of the tea and tried not to screw up his face in disgust: it was extremely bitter.
"Well, who does?" Algernon laughed agreeably, "I'm sorry about Clarence," he motioned towards the door where the woman had disappeared, "got a bit of a phobia of dogs - hides it very well, I think," he smiled, "is this your pooch?" he ruffled the top of Sirius' head, who was apparently trying not to growl at being called 'pooch.'
"He's mine," said Harry quickly.
Algernon's smiled gave a little wiggle at the corner, "yes? You would be.er.Harry Potter?"
"The one and only," Harry tried to smile and put his hand forward for Algernon to shake, but the man did so only half-heartedly.
"I've seen you in all the newspapers," he said, and Harry resisted the urge to reply sarcastically, 'really? I'd never have guessed'. Algernon turned back to Hermione, "well, now, I'm afraid we've hit a little hitch," his smile righted itself, "about.er.what is his name?" he patted Sirius again. "Uh," said Hermione, and Harry glanced worriedly at her. They hadn't even thought about that, and it would be very suspicious is Harry's dog was named after a fugitive mass-murderer.
"Snuffles," grunted Ron. Hermione and harry relaxed; at least that would be an easy name to remember; they had used it before on many occasions.
"Yes, well Snuffles is the problem," said Algernon, waving a biscuit in front of Sirius' nose. Sirius stared at it disdainfully, "you see, Clarence was supposed to escort you to the skifield, but her condition will obviously make it near-impossible for her."
"Oh," said Hermione, "but we can't go without Snuffles! He never leaves Harry's side, he'd surely.er.pine without him."
"Are you sure?" Algernon said. His opinion of Harry had obviously not been improved with the news that he had a Grim-like dog as his constant companion, "we have contacts with several exceptional kennels who could all take good care." but all three of them were shaking their heads forcibly, and Sirius gave a convincing whine. Algernon sighed, "well, other arrangements will have to be made, then."
"You won't cancel the trip?" said Hermione anxiously, and Ron looked hopeful.
"No, no, of course not my dear," Algernon reassured her, "but there is the possibility we will have to use muggle transport." he frowned.
Hermione shook her head, "Don't worry about that, I'm sure you'll put us in good hands, sir."
"Of course, I promise to have to sorted," said Algernon.
---[]---
They would not have to travel all the way without magic; a long-distance fireplace near the Travel Agency saw them most of the way there. Harry found it took a noticeably longer time to travel half-way across the globe by Floo-powder, and by the end of the spinning trip he was feeling more then a little nauseous. Algernon had made good on his promise, and when they finally stumbled out of the fireplace at the other end, coughing and spluttering and with bags landing all around them, a middle-aged witch with a sharp nose and a tense slit for a mouth met them. She hustled them along, fondly patting Sirius and muttering disapprovingly about "Malory and his publicity stunts."
"I'm sorry I can't stay, I've got a bus-load tourists arriving in twenty minutes, and they really aren't used to non-magic vehicles," she said apologetically, "I'm afraid you'll be in the hands of muggles from now on," she gave them precise instructions of their pick-up and the rest of their trip, tucked a folded pamphlet of those same instructions into Ron's pocket, and left them sitting in a glass bus-stop.
The large black dog vanished and Sirius sat down on the end of the seat, next to Harry, already dressed in black ski-pants and a black polar-fleece jacket with runes in silver and gold thread on the sleeves.
"Sirius! Are you sure its safe.?" Hermione frowned, "the muggles over here might have been warned about you too, you know."
He grinned, "mostly sure. Arthur checked it out already, and they only had a couple of news bulletins about me, especially with the Ministry trying to keep it under wraps now. No one's going to remember a photo from two years ago, besides the fact that I've had a wash since then," he winked.
"Great, you can carry your luggage again," Ron chucked one of the bags to Sirius, "I've been having to lug it around all day since we left."
"I wish the shuttle would hurry up," Hermione checked her watch, "I might get my jacket out," she pulled her own bag open at her feet. Harry had to agree with her; it seemed bitterly cold over here compared to the summer they had just come from. A few spots of rain dotted the glass of the bus- stop, "but that does mean snow's on the way," Hermione added brightly, watching the drizzling clouds.
"Have you really been skiing before?" Harry asked Sirius while he looked for his own ski-jacket.
"It was a good while ago," said his godfather thoughtfully, "I'm probably so out of practise I can't even stand up on a slope. I was never a patch on Lily, of course," he added.
Harry glanced at him, "my mum? My mum used to ski?"
"Look, there's the bus!" said Ron. Hermione frowned at him, knowing Harry wanted to hear more.
The shuttle bus, which had Mt Hutt Ski Shuttle emblazoned along the side, slid to a halt in front of them and the driver got out, "you're the last minute tourist bunch?" he grinned, his foreign accent obvious.
"Yep," Hermione nodded, "sorry about the emergency arrangements; our original transport was cancelled."
"No problem, you're lucky we had space," said the man brightly, who was in his late twenties, and wearing a Mt Hutt Shuttle T-shirt over a bright- green poly-prop. Hermione handed over their fee (the witch who had met them at the fireplace had changed all their galleons into native muggle-money) and the driver, after giving her the change from a bum-bag around his waist, picked up half the bags and took them to the closed trailer the shuttle was towing. Sirius followed him with the rest of the bags and Harry, Ron and Hermione slid open the door of the shuttle and hopped inside.
The shuttle was not large; there was only three seats at the back facing frontwards, three seats at the front facing backwards, and four in the middle, back-to-back with each other. Four of the five back seats were taken by four school-kids not much younger then Harry and his friends. There was a short girl with long, dark-brown, curly pigtails and a pair of pink mittens hanging from her jacket, and a dark-haired boy with large front teeth and sunglasses was lounging on the seat next to her. At the very back was a taller girl with short blonde hair and a blue ski-jacket, and next to her a tall boy with sandy hair. The girls were whispering loudly and busting into giggles at odd intervals while the dark-haired boy made snide comments. Pop-music bubbled out of a speaker below the window.
Ron and Hermione sat down on two of the front seats, and Harry opposite them on the middle aisle. Sirius slid open the door and jumped in a few moments later and plopped down next to Harry. They pulled on their seat- belts as the shuttled pulled away.
"It's going to be about two hours until we get to the mountain," the driver was saying.
Harry wanted very much to ask Sirius more about his mum, but Sirius appeared to be half-way through a conversation with the driver.
"So what part of England are you from?" the man continued.
"London," Sirius said, "but Harry, Ron and Hermione are at boarding school in the country."
"Really? Lucky you said London, that's the only place I know in England," the driver grinned, "on holiday are you, kids? Any of them your's?" he asked Sirius before they could answer.
"Uh," said Sirius, pausing, "Harry's my.nephew."
Luckily the driver didn't pick up anything odd, "so, having any good weather over there? Been pretty atrocious over here, but it means good snow, ay?" he chatted on to Sirius for a while, while Hermione and Ron began bickering over what they were going to do once they got there. The blonde-haired girl behind them tried briefly to start a conversation with Harry, but her friend said something about an accent which sounded like it included the word "sexy" and they both dissolved into laughter again. The sandy-haired boy frowned.
It wasn't until they had picked up another skier, who sat up next to the driver, that Harry finally got to ask Sirius about Lily.
"Yes, your mum was skier," said Sirius, smiling, "and not a too shabby one. She was muggle born, as you know, and I think her parents took her to the slopes from a young age. Muggles think skiing is very sophisticated, you see," he rolled his eyes, "but Lily just loved it," a sad look flitted briefly across his face, "if she hadn't gone to Hogwarts, she might have started racing some day. Although she never reckoned it would be anything professional, just another excuse to go fast."
"Did my dad ski too?" asked Harry, fascinated.
"Oh, I wouldn't call it skiing!" Sirius laughed, "it was mostly crashing. Into me, usually. Or vice versa. We were hopeless."
"Really?" Harry couldn't help feeling a little disappointed; he had always carried a firm resolve that his father had been good at everything.
"Well, some of the crashing was on purpose," said Sirius, "it was a constant feud to see who could get the most snow down the other person's jacket. We tried it on an icy slope once - nearly cracked our skulls open. You don't know how hard ice is until you're landing onto it at forty miles an hour. Lily could do better, though - when she stopped she could spray snow twenty feet without so much as a speck on herself. Get us both in one blast, and be off before we knew it. Oh, I don't remember ever using drying spells as much as when Lily was in a silly mood in the snow," he leaned back against the seat, chuckling.
"Did they - did you - go skiing often?" Harry asked.
"I only came a few times, when Lily was teaching James to ski," Sirius nodded, grinning, "oh, I've got a few tales to tell about that," he laughed.
"But Ron, skiing is much easier!" Hermione's voice broke in shrilly.
"I don't care, that.whatever it is..looks way cooler," grumbled Ron. He was flicking through a pamphlet from a rack by the seats.
"What's that?" asked Harry, pointing at the pamphlet.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Ron wants to go snowboarding."
"Look! Look how cool it is, Harry! All those people look like real dorks," he pointed at a group of smiling skiers in one photo, "but this guy looks way awesome," he held up another photo up of a snowboarder leaping over a jump with snow spraying in all directions. Ron turned back to Hermione, "it flies, does it? The Snow-Bod?"
"No, it doesn't fly!"
"Oh," said Ron, disappointed, "well, I still reckon its better then skiing."
Hermione ground her teeth together audibly, obviously wanting to tell Ron exactly what she thought of him.
"I don't think I want to learn to snowboard, Ron," said Harry, "I'd rather not have my feet locked together like that. Be rather hard to walk, I imagine."
"Harry, don't encourage her!" Ron said, shocked. Harry wanted to ask Sirius more about his parents, but when he turned back he found his Godfather had closed his eyes and apparently gone to sleep.
"Are we allowed to play Exploding Snap in this thing?"
"NO Ron!" Hermione said exasperatedly, "Honestly!"
It was going to be a long week.
---[]---
Hey again! Sorry I didn't put much more Lily & James in there - I promise there will be some more of them in upcoming chapters.
Thanks for all the lovely reviews from last chapter! Send me some more in now and I'll try to update as soon as possible!
Baby Sirius: I'm so cute. How can you resist me?
Author's Notes: Ok, I am making suppositions here. I am going to say that Hermione is a pretty good skier, or that she is at least experienced. I am going to pretend there are some wizards who like skiing (though it can't be much in comparison to broomsticks). Also, I forgot to do a disclaimer last time, so here it is: I do not own Harry Potter. I have no permission to use him in my stories. He belongs to JK Rowling, ect. I'm writing for fun and not to make a profit except to my own self-esteem. Thanks for not suing me.
Ok, and just to make things clear: YES, I have read the fifth book. This story does NOT take place in the summer holidays - I have made up a random holiday at the "end of third- term" at Hogwarts (pretending that the year is split into four terms, like it is in NZ) - so this story takes place about three-quarters of the way through the school year. WE ARE NOT IN THE SUMMER HOLIDAYS HERE, WE ARE SOMEWHERE BETWEEN SUMMER AND CHRISTMAS. This particular school break holiday is never mentioned in the book - but hey, if they didn't say we CAN'T have it.? Ok, I'm glad we got that all cleared up.
(yoda is checking you out).
Ok, back to the story!
---[]---
They arrived at the Wizarding Travel Agency on early Tuesday morning, Mrs Weasley's cries of "CHECK YOU'VE GOT ALL YOU'RE WARM CLOTHING, RON!" still ringing in their ears. The red-head was still grumbling about how he had somehow been tricked into going on the trip, and seemed liable to explode at any minute. However, ten pairs of feet walked into the Travel Agency with a script already rehearsed in their heads.
The room was seemed very sharp, lit by a bright glowing orb hanging from the ceiling. It was the sort of room in which everything has its proper place, and it made the four feel slightly uncomfortable under the bright light. An especially sharp and organised woman was sitting behind the desk, sorting papers with flicks of her wand. She looked up as a bell over the door tinkled and stared at them.
Hermione smiled and brandished the competition slips like a sword.
"You're the winner of the Skiing Trip?" the woman asked uncertainly, still staring at Harry with his hand on the head of a large black dog.
"Yes, that's me," Hermione smiled confidently. The large black dog sat down and poked his tongue out in a friendly way, his tail wagging cheerfully behind his rump.
The woman took the papers and inspected them suspiciously, still glancing nervously at the animal. After a few moments of silence her gaze swept the three males and she gulped, "are these - your three companions?"
"Indeed," said Hermione, still smiling sweetly, "the letter said to be here at eight o'clock today, so does that mean we'll be leaving soon? All our luggage is out the front."
The woman ruffled through the papers as if trying to distract them while she thought. Finally she stood up, looking slightly less professional then she had a few minutes ago, and bowed quickly, "excuse me, I just need to have a word with the organiser of the competition," and with that she scurried out as if a horde of dementors were on her tail.
They waited patiently. Ron took a look at the travel opportunities displayed on posters around the walls (See the Magical Zoos of Berne: Visit Switzerland now!.cool off at Fiji's Replenishing Mage-Springs!.Don't delay - find out the truth of Easter Island Today!). Sirius, in dog form of course, sniffed at a skinny pink parrot perched by the window, which Harry had taken to be stuffed. But it squawked warningly at the beast, and puffed itself up like a balloon.
"Hello! Hello! Wonderful to meet you!" came a rich, melodious voice, and Harry tore his eyes away from the bird to watch a very tall, pointy man with a navy-blue cloak shaking hands warmly with Hermione as if he had known her for years, "come, come and sit down. My name is Malory Algernon," he hurried around the counter and dropped into one of the plastic chairs around a small silver coffee table in the corner of the room. Harry and Ron glanced at Hermione but followed her lead and the three of them sat down as well. A pot of tea appeared along with four mugs and a plate of biscuits.
"Well, very independent of you to all come on your own!" Algernon smiled, pouring a greenish tea into each of the cups, "have you been skiing before?" he asked Hermione.
"Yes, but I don't pretend to be an expert," she smiled, taking a mug from him. Harry sipped a little of the tea and tried not to screw up his face in disgust: it was extremely bitter.
"Well, who does?" Algernon laughed agreeably, "I'm sorry about Clarence," he motioned towards the door where the woman had disappeared, "got a bit of a phobia of dogs - hides it very well, I think," he smiled, "is this your pooch?" he ruffled the top of Sirius' head, who was apparently trying not to growl at being called 'pooch.'
"He's mine," said Harry quickly.
Algernon's smiled gave a little wiggle at the corner, "yes? You would be.er.Harry Potter?"
"The one and only," Harry tried to smile and put his hand forward for Algernon to shake, but the man did so only half-heartedly.
"I've seen you in all the newspapers," he said, and Harry resisted the urge to reply sarcastically, 'really? I'd never have guessed'. Algernon turned back to Hermione, "well, now, I'm afraid we've hit a little hitch," his smile righted itself, "about.er.what is his name?" he patted Sirius again. "Uh," said Hermione, and Harry glanced worriedly at her. They hadn't even thought about that, and it would be very suspicious is Harry's dog was named after a fugitive mass-murderer.
"Snuffles," grunted Ron. Hermione and harry relaxed; at least that would be an easy name to remember; they had used it before on many occasions.
"Yes, well Snuffles is the problem," said Algernon, waving a biscuit in front of Sirius' nose. Sirius stared at it disdainfully, "you see, Clarence was supposed to escort you to the skifield, but her condition will obviously make it near-impossible for her."
"Oh," said Hermione, "but we can't go without Snuffles! He never leaves Harry's side, he'd surely.er.pine without him."
"Are you sure?" Algernon said. His opinion of Harry had obviously not been improved with the news that he had a Grim-like dog as his constant companion, "we have contacts with several exceptional kennels who could all take good care." but all three of them were shaking their heads forcibly, and Sirius gave a convincing whine. Algernon sighed, "well, other arrangements will have to be made, then."
"You won't cancel the trip?" said Hermione anxiously, and Ron looked hopeful.
"No, no, of course not my dear," Algernon reassured her, "but there is the possibility we will have to use muggle transport." he frowned.
Hermione shook her head, "Don't worry about that, I'm sure you'll put us in good hands, sir."
"Of course, I promise to have to sorted," said Algernon.
---[]---
They would not have to travel all the way without magic; a long-distance fireplace near the Travel Agency saw them most of the way there. Harry found it took a noticeably longer time to travel half-way across the globe by Floo-powder, and by the end of the spinning trip he was feeling more then a little nauseous. Algernon had made good on his promise, and when they finally stumbled out of the fireplace at the other end, coughing and spluttering and with bags landing all around them, a middle-aged witch with a sharp nose and a tense slit for a mouth met them. She hustled them along, fondly patting Sirius and muttering disapprovingly about "Malory and his publicity stunts."
"I'm sorry I can't stay, I've got a bus-load tourists arriving in twenty minutes, and they really aren't used to non-magic vehicles," she said apologetically, "I'm afraid you'll be in the hands of muggles from now on," she gave them precise instructions of their pick-up and the rest of their trip, tucked a folded pamphlet of those same instructions into Ron's pocket, and left them sitting in a glass bus-stop.
The large black dog vanished and Sirius sat down on the end of the seat, next to Harry, already dressed in black ski-pants and a black polar-fleece jacket with runes in silver and gold thread on the sleeves.
"Sirius! Are you sure its safe.?" Hermione frowned, "the muggles over here might have been warned about you too, you know."
He grinned, "mostly sure. Arthur checked it out already, and they only had a couple of news bulletins about me, especially with the Ministry trying to keep it under wraps now. No one's going to remember a photo from two years ago, besides the fact that I've had a wash since then," he winked.
"Great, you can carry your luggage again," Ron chucked one of the bags to Sirius, "I've been having to lug it around all day since we left."
"I wish the shuttle would hurry up," Hermione checked her watch, "I might get my jacket out," she pulled her own bag open at her feet. Harry had to agree with her; it seemed bitterly cold over here compared to the summer they had just come from. A few spots of rain dotted the glass of the bus- stop, "but that does mean snow's on the way," Hermione added brightly, watching the drizzling clouds.
"Have you really been skiing before?" Harry asked Sirius while he looked for his own ski-jacket.
"It was a good while ago," said his godfather thoughtfully, "I'm probably so out of practise I can't even stand up on a slope. I was never a patch on Lily, of course," he added.
Harry glanced at him, "my mum? My mum used to ski?"
"Look, there's the bus!" said Ron. Hermione frowned at him, knowing Harry wanted to hear more.
The shuttle bus, which had Mt Hutt Ski Shuttle emblazoned along the side, slid to a halt in front of them and the driver got out, "you're the last minute tourist bunch?" he grinned, his foreign accent obvious.
"Yep," Hermione nodded, "sorry about the emergency arrangements; our original transport was cancelled."
"No problem, you're lucky we had space," said the man brightly, who was in his late twenties, and wearing a Mt Hutt Shuttle T-shirt over a bright- green poly-prop. Hermione handed over their fee (the witch who had met them at the fireplace had changed all their galleons into native muggle-money) and the driver, after giving her the change from a bum-bag around his waist, picked up half the bags and took them to the closed trailer the shuttle was towing. Sirius followed him with the rest of the bags and Harry, Ron and Hermione slid open the door of the shuttle and hopped inside.
The shuttle was not large; there was only three seats at the back facing frontwards, three seats at the front facing backwards, and four in the middle, back-to-back with each other. Four of the five back seats were taken by four school-kids not much younger then Harry and his friends. There was a short girl with long, dark-brown, curly pigtails and a pair of pink mittens hanging from her jacket, and a dark-haired boy with large front teeth and sunglasses was lounging on the seat next to her. At the very back was a taller girl with short blonde hair and a blue ski-jacket, and next to her a tall boy with sandy hair. The girls were whispering loudly and busting into giggles at odd intervals while the dark-haired boy made snide comments. Pop-music bubbled out of a speaker below the window.
Ron and Hermione sat down on two of the front seats, and Harry opposite them on the middle aisle. Sirius slid open the door and jumped in a few moments later and plopped down next to Harry. They pulled on their seat- belts as the shuttled pulled away.
"It's going to be about two hours until we get to the mountain," the driver was saying.
Harry wanted very much to ask Sirius more about his mum, but Sirius appeared to be half-way through a conversation with the driver.
"So what part of England are you from?" the man continued.
"London," Sirius said, "but Harry, Ron and Hermione are at boarding school in the country."
"Really? Lucky you said London, that's the only place I know in England," the driver grinned, "on holiday are you, kids? Any of them your's?" he asked Sirius before they could answer.
"Uh," said Sirius, pausing, "Harry's my.nephew."
Luckily the driver didn't pick up anything odd, "so, having any good weather over there? Been pretty atrocious over here, but it means good snow, ay?" he chatted on to Sirius for a while, while Hermione and Ron began bickering over what they were going to do once they got there. The blonde-haired girl behind them tried briefly to start a conversation with Harry, but her friend said something about an accent which sounded like it included the word "sexy" and they both dissolved into laughter again. The sandy-haired boy frowned.
It wasn't until they had picked up another skier, who sat up next to the driver, that Harry finally got to ask Sirius about Lily.
"Yes, your mum was skier," said Sirius, smiling, "and not a too shabby one. She was muggle born, as you know, and I think her parents took her to the slopes from a young age. Muggles think skiing is very sophisticated, you see," he rolled his eyes, "but Lily just loved it," a sad look flitted briefly across his face, "if she hadn't gone to Hogwarts, she might have started racing some day. Although she never reckoned it would be anything professional, just another excuse to go fast."
"Did my dad ski too?" asked Harry, fascinated.
"Oh, I wouldn't call it skiing!" Sirius laughed, "it was mostly crashing. Into me, usually. Or vice versa. We were hopeless."
"Really?" Harry couldn't help feeling a little disappointed; he had always carried a firm resolve that his father had been good at everything.
"Well, some of the crashing was on purpose," said Sirius, "it was a constant feud to see who could get the most snow down the other person's jacket. We tried it on an icy slope once - nearly cracked our skulls open. You don't know how hard ice is until you're landing onto it at forty miles an hour. Lily could do better, though - when she stopped she could spray snow twenty feet without so much as a speck on herself. Get us both in one blast, and be off before we knew it. Oh, I don't remember ever using drying spells as much as when Lily was in a silly mood in the snow," he leaned back against the seat, chuckling.
"Did they - did you - go skiing often?" Harry asked.
"I only came a few times, when Lily was teaching James to ski," Sirius nodded, grinning, "oh, I've got a few tales to tell about that," he laughed.
"But Ron, skiing is much easier!" Hermione's voice broke in shrilly.
"I don't care, that.whatever it is..looks way cooler," grumbled Ron. He was flicking through a pamphlet from a rack by the seats.
"What's that?" asked Harry, pointing at the pamphlet.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Ron wants to go snowboarding."
"Look! Look how cool it is, Harry! All those people look like real dorks," he pointed at a group of smiling skiers in one photo, "but this guy looks way awesome," he held up another photo up of a snowboarder leaping over a jump with snow spraying in all directions. Ron turned back to Hermione, "it flies, does it? The Snow-Bod?"
"No, it doesn't fly!"
"Oh," said Ron, disappointed, "well, I still reckon its better then skiing."
Hermione ground her teeth together audibly, obviously wanting to tell Ron exactly what she thought of him.
"I don't think I want to learn to snowboard, Ron," said Harry, "I'd rather not have my feet locked together like that. Be rather hard to walk, I imagine."
"Harry, don't encourage her!" Ron said, shocked. Harry wanted to ask Sirius more about his parents, but when he turned back he found his Godfather had closed his eyes and apparently gone to sleep.
"Are we allowed to play Exploding Snap in this thing?"
"NO Ron!" Hermione said exasperatedly, "Honestly!"
It was going to be a long week.
---[]---
Hey again! Sorry I didn't put much more Lily & James in there - I promise there will be some more of them in upcoming chapters.
Thanks for all the lovely reviews from last chapter! Send me some more in now and I'll try to update as soon as possible!
Baby Sirius: I'm so cute. How can you resist me?