Chapter 2
Author's notes: you like it, you really like it! ::muah!:: I love all of you that reviewed, and all of your great tips! Thanks bunches, you rock!
Disclaimer (to apply to all subsequent chapters): I don't own nething Harry Potter (but he would make one helluva X-mas present!), nor do I own the skeletal basis of this plot (that belongs to the Cosby show; thanx to the sharp reviewer who reminded me of that!), but I do own that brilliant Quidditch dialogue and the mischievous Rosie Potter. Hopefully this next chapter fulfills your expectations! (btw, sorry this one is a little shorter, but I have to keep suspense levels up!)
*HiPa*
***
"Oh, there you are, Ginny, Rosie. We wondered where you had gotten to," Hermione informed them, helping the younger girl out of the fireplace. Ginny dusted herself off, looking round The Leaky Cauldron.
"Where's Susan, then?"
"Oh," Hermione shifted uncomfortably, "She's…she's at the bar."
"Not again," sighed Ginny. "D'you remember what happened last time she had firewhiskey?"
"How could I forget?" muttered Hermione. "Took her half an hour to realize that Neville was not in Hagrid's pants."
"Neville's dead romantic!" piped Rosie in a high, squeaky voice. Half the bar went quiet, and Susan slid off her barstool.
"What did that —hic—little…little tramp say about my Nevviekins?" she asked, tottering towards Rosie and spilling most of her glass' contents on the floor.
"Susan!" reprimanded Hermione sharply.
"Oh, no," Ginny groaned, snatching Rosie out of harm's way. "Hermione, can we leave, please?"
"Yes, let's." and both women dragged Susan from the pub into the deserted alleyway.
"How much did she have, anyway?" questioned Ginny.
"Not even a swallow!"
"Now…now—hic—wait just one—hic—minute! I want to know why…why she's talking about…about my—hic—husbie-poo!"
"Yes, yes Rosie, why did you say Mr. Longbottom was, er, 'dead romantic' ?"
"Because he said so!" the young girl chirped. The women stared at her.
"But Daddy thinks he's more romantic than Neville, and Uncle Ronnie says he's more romantic than the lot of them put together."
"How do you know all of this, Rosie? Go on, tell Auntie Hermy."
Rosie hid a small smirk before blinking up innocently at her elders. "Well, I don't really remember…" Hermione conjured a peanut-butter ice cream cone and handed it to her.
"Oh! I remember now," she said between slurps. "I was hiding in the crawlspace behind the telly and Mr. Dean Thomas came by and started talking about his evening with Ms. Parvati Patil (a/n: Rosie Potter is a quirky little squirt; she calls most adults by their full names…I think it's kinda cute! ^_^).
"Then he said that Daddy, Neville, and Uncle Ronnie had lost all the romance in their lives. So they all decided to have dinner at your house tonight, Auntie Hermy, and they can only use 25 sickles to buy you the most romantic gift they can."
As Rosie took deep breaths (and licks), the three women looked at each other, teary-eyed.
"That is so sweet!"
"Oh no! What do I wear?"
"—hic—"
"Oh! Right! Soberate!"
And so Hermione, Ginny, Rosie, and a newly sobered Susan headed off to Madam Malkin's Robes.
***
An hour later, Harry found Ron preparing for the evening. Black and gold candles were scattered amongst the now reflective surface of the dining room table, providing a flickering light and stunning effect at the same time. Ron had obviously polished the best silver and china he had, and, set at every other place was a white, long-stemmed rose.
"Wow, Ron. I'm impressed," Neville said, Apparating with a pop. Ron grinned.
"That's not all. Oh, Garçon!" he clapped his hands twice. Wearing a black bowtie, walking on his hind legs, and carrying a silver serving platter was none other than…
…
…
…Dean!
Yes, him, and, amazingly enough, Crookshanks, Hermione's tabby cat!
Neville and Harry guffawed with laughter as Dean knelt on one knee, muttering into Crookshanks' ear. "Do you do weddings?"
***
"Ooh, mummy! Mummy, look!"
"Just a minute, dear—Hermione, turn round, let me see how those robes look on you."
"Mummy, these robes—"
"Just a minute, Rosie. Oh, Hermione, they compliment your eyes perfectly!"
"Thanks, Gin. Susan, are you ready yet?"
"Yes, Hermy, come and have a look…"
"All right, Rosie," Ginny looked down at her daughter. "What—?"
"Mummy, these robes would be just perfect for me to wear at Mr. Dean Thomas' wedding!"
Susan and Hermione poked their heads out from behind the dressing curtains.
"Dean's getting married?" they asked together.
"Are you sure, Rosie?" Ginny said, eyeing her suspiciously (or, as suspiciously as you can a four-year-old).
"Well, Uncle Ronnie said that if they agreed to the wager then Mr. Dean Thomas had to propose to Ms. Parvati Patil."
Hermione beckoned Rosie to her, in order to prevent the mad rush of last-minute shoppers overhearing. "Did you say wager?"
Rosie nodded her head enthusiastically, causing her red curls to bounce up and down.
"The man that gets the best reaction from his wife is the king of romance!"
"Oh really now?" asked Susan, interested.
"Rosie, why don't you ask Madam Malkin to pin those robes for you? Mummy needs to have a talk with Auntie Hermione and Mrs. Longbottom."
"Yes, mama."
As soon as little Rosie was out of earshot, Hermione and Susan went off into a rant.
"A wager?!"
"I knew there was something odd about their sudden adorations!"
"No wonder they were so eager—"
"Ginny, you're smirking. That's never a good sign." Hermione observed warily.
"But tonight it is. Merry Christmas, girls."
***
(A/n: ooh, what has Ginny got under her sleeve? The final installment of our saga tells you! But only if you review, o'course. [hey, I have no problem keeping that chappie locked up until the New Year…okay, I'm no good at threats, and I'm just as excited about the ending of this storie as u are—or, I hope u are.] But please! Have some Christmas spirit!! Just REVIEW!!…I'll cry! *pouts* )
Oh, Daintess has a great story out, "Lucius Got Run Over By a Snorkack" (I'm sorrie I wasn't able to review, but I really did love it!) u should go read it.
And if you're a Harry/Ginny shipper, u might enjoy this realistic fluff fic by moi, No Need. It's Christmasie! (I knoe you'll enjoy it…hinthint…)
FileEnd shameless plugging
Muchos Besos y Feliz Navidad!
HiSpAnIc PaNiC