Disclaimer: I have temporarily raided J.K's stash and promise to replenish it ASAP. The plot is mine.

Rated PG-13: for violence in latter chapters, sexual innuendo and cause I thought it was most appropriate.

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Chapter 4: Ron's Self Esteem and Hermione's Hair

Ron was not happy. He couldn't understand why his brothers were so determined to make him feel as insignificant as a piece of Droobles Best blowing gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe. All his life he remembered little of the twins but consistent teasing and tormenting. And despite their appetites for destruction they were popular. Very popular. Ron always remembered whilst in first year hearing a Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw describing what they would do to his brothers should they ever be locked in a dungeon with them. Ron still winced at the memory. But no one ever thought of him like that. He was just the tall young Weasley, forever a red fleck in his brothers' shadows. Even now Ron understood the only reason most people knew his name was because of his friendship with the boy-who-lived.

Harry stepped into Ron's room, smiling at the training session occurring on Ron's Chudley Cannon posters. He also smiled at Ron, though it was a little absently. Thoughts were buzzing around his head faster than the wings of a snitch and he felt slightly dizzy.

'Harry?'

'MMmmm?'

'Why do my brothers hate me?'

Harry's head cleared faster than a nose injected with Spraytish. He looked at his friend and sensed a sadness and dejectedness that circled like an aura.

'Why do you think your brothers hate you?'

Ron sighed deeply. 'They always pick on me, testing out their new pranks. It's like cause they can't kill me using the Avada Kedavra they are trying to kill me with their experimentations instead.' Ron looked up at Harry, desperately seeking signs of support.

'Well,' considered Harry 'I honestly don't think that they hate you Ron. I think it is because you are available. They know on some level that it won't seriously harm you. Ginny is really protected by your mum so her availability is decreased. Ron they don't hate you.'

Ron shook his head vigorously. 'No, they don't like me. I mean look at those fairies; they tried to undress you. All they did to me was bite.'

Harry smiled gently. 'Fred and George don't know why the fairies acted differently towards you and me. Apparently they have more experiments to do before the fairies are perfected. 'Sides you did get kissed as well.'

Ron smiled gently. 'Yeah, I guess.'

Harry scratched at the top of his cast aggravated. He grabbed a quill Ron had out and shoved it down his cast and moved it around in a vain attempt to stop the itching that made scabies appear lame.

'What is that thing?' Ron looked at it as if it were about to growth teeth and attack the seaside summer resort of Amity.

'Oh, a plaster cast. I broke my arm again and this is the way that muggles heal broken bones.'

'Can I touch it?'

'Sure.'

Ron reluctantly touched the lumpy set plaster on Harry's arm. 'Cool.'

'Ron, how do you know about Satan?'

'Huh?' Ron didn't have a clue what Harry was talking about.

'You said your brothers weren't born, they were the spawn of Satan. I thought that Satan was a muggle concept.'

Ron smiled darkly. 'It is. You know what Dad's like. Well he brought home some muggle comics and I grabbed one and decided to read it. It was called Spawn. Have you heard of it?'

Harry nodded. He had never read or touched it. He figured he had enough darkness in his life, so he wasn't going to read about it as well.

'Ron, Harry, Hermione's here.' A voice bellowed up the stairs.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, smiled and raced down the stairs.

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A honey cascade of Frizz spent most of its holiday in the Cambridge library. So did the rest of Hermione. Summer had been long and lonely. Being the only child of two dentists could be quite boring so Hermione lost herself in a world of writing. But something was absent. Two distractions, one with red hair and tea brown eyes, the other a head of black hair always ruffled like a baby cockatoo and glittery emerald eyes that never completely lost a slight essence of sadness.

As fantastic as it was to ride of the dorsal fin of Virginia Woolf's fish of thought, the ride was a little lonely when it was on one's own. Hermione was initially happy for the time spent with her parents over the break, but her two best friends could not be sufficiently supplemented by her muggle home and Hermione longed for Hogwarts and even for evenings spent under the invisibility cloak when there was study to be done.

Some aspects of growing up weren't as pleasant as Hermione had immaturely believed. Spending significant periods of time in the magical world had created a chasm between Hermione and her parents; something she had believed would lessen as she got older. So she found the holiday isolating. Just because she was muggle born, a mudblood, didn't mean she didn't feel alone in the muggle world. The nature of muggles was pastel in comparison to the technicolour existence of magic and Hermione found the blandness like brainrot.

How she longed for the sweet comfort of the burrow.

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Hermione's smile emerged as she stepped out of the fireplace. To finally feel that she was somewhere she belonged, somewhere that didn't make her feel as though she was alone on the path of life. People surrounded her whom she related to more earnestly than she had ever done with her few muggle friends.

Intelligence can often equal isolation, especially in the muggle schoolyard.

Hermione was wrapped in a six-armed, three-person hug practically before she stepped out of the burrow's fireplace. Their little band was complete. It was true that three could occasionally be a crowd, but having two genders broke it up a little. Ron grinned at Harry as he hugged Hermione. Harry smiled back knowing how Ron would jump at any chance to invade Hermione's personal space. Hermione grinned through the boys to Ginny, who had a smile in return, but it hinted at an alternative universe of thoughts. Mrs. Weasley smiled at the little scene, still caressing a gentle hope in her heart that Hermione would eventually join the Weasley clan till death do part.

The warmth Hermione felt at the burrow and for all those who currently resided in it thrilled her to the toenails. Unlike Harry, her home wasn't unhappy, but this somehow felt more like how things were meant to be. This was far more normal than the muggle world could hope for.

'Hi Hermione.' Smiled George as he hit the base of the stairs.

'Hello 'Mione.' Grinned Fred, walking out from behind his brother, appearing like bacteria replicating.

Ron and Harry let go of Hermione and turned, eyeing off the twins suspiciously, who feigned innocence through bad attempts at wide-eyed boyish smiles. Hermione looked at Ron and grinned.

'Ron, you look like you have been attacked by a pride of doxies, did you know?'

Ron's face flushed red for a microsecond, he shot his brothers with the evil eye, then broke into a genuine smile. 'Yeah, my bros here decided to experiment on me and Harry.'

Hermione briefly gave Harry the once over. 'How come you aren't covered in bites as well Harry?'

'Well, err actually…' a spider web of pink coloured Harry's cheeks.

'You see my darling Hermione…' purred Fred as he walked up to her and casually draped his arm over her shoulder. 'Our pixies reacted quite interestingly to a substance called Spanish Fly...'

Hermione simultaneously rolled her eyes and raised an eyebrow.

'And…' continued George, draping his arm over the other side of Hermione. 'With Ron they wanted to kiss and bite, with Harry they were a little more…perverse, shall we say.'

'Nay brother, we shall not say, voyeuristic is a better word.' Argued Fred.

'It practically means the same thing,' Hermione volunteered and went to continue but felt something on her skin. A gentle sensation, like water running down fingers tickled the pale hairs of her arms. Hermione looked down and screamed. The little aforementioned hairs had grown teeth and were attacking each other, as one bit the other the colour morphed from a translucent blonde to a pastel rain which ran over her arm like an iceblock on a Summer's day.

The other arm had a similar sensation and the interested young group gathered around Hermione's arm and watched. Little heads with broad smiles appeared. Cartoon eyes stared up at the group. One hair at the base of Hermione's wrist turned around to face its peers. 'One, two, three, four!'

The hairs in perfect unison started a surprisingly loud rendition of 'God Save the Queen.' The twins who had dismantled themselves from Hermione were hugging each other and laughing, soft tears flowing down identical faces. Harry and Ron were badly attempting to conceal broad smiles. Hermione was panicking as the two different plagues were rapidly approaching one another.

'Fred, George,' her voice like her breath, short and rapid. 'What is going to happen when they meet?

Ron furrowed his brow. 'Meet. What do you mean meet? How would they meet?'

'Ron you idiot.' Harry growled. 'The human body is covered in hair.'

'Too Right!' George said, trying not to choke on laughter.

The plague on both of Hermione's arms met and the music changed accordingly. The orchestra situated on Hermione's fingers started with a strong, atmospheric bass, followed by a matching drum that sent gentle vibrations throughout the burrow. Fred and George howled, their laughter bouncing off the walls. Ron was giggling gently and Harry vibrated from the laughter he was holding in.

'Wommmaaannnnnnn.' Yelped an alto, given Alvin, Simon and Theodore a run for their money.

The room cracked up, even Ginny, who had previously been the only other person showing any signs of concern laughed.

A splendid rendition of 'Dogs of War' was performed on Hermione's arms and upper torso as the pastel rainbow developed like chickenpox and the quoir multiplied.

Hermione showed nothing but horror, wondering how she wasn't going to lose Gryffindor an infinite number of points for being a consistent class distraction.

Arthur Weasley stepped out of the fireplace and into the crowd of dominantly laughing, blurry eyed teens, Hermione in the middle as their horrified Goddess to lay down to. Arthur smiled broadly and was glad that he had discovered this scene over Molly.

'Hermione,' he said gently. 'It won't last forever. Don't worry. The twins did it to me last week while I was napping and my eyelashes sang Saltwater, Brown eyed Girl and Pale grey eyes for half an hour than stopped. I think you just have to let it ware off.'

'The boys and Ginny might be dead by then from lack of oxygen due to over laughing.' Hermione showed no hints of humour. The music changed to the Battle of Evermore.

'Possibly,' smile Arthur. 'If not I'm sure that their stomach muscles will let them know that they are alive.'

Hermione grinned darkly at that thought and wished it upon the lot of them. Instead of being the centrepiece in a laughing ring Hermione pick up her trucks, stared darkly at the giggling troop on the floor and walked up the stairs to Ginny's room, the melodious finale of Battle of Evermore following her.

Maybe some things about the muggle world weren't so bad after all.

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10 points to your house of choice if you can pick out the Jaws allusion in this chapter!!!

Authors Notes:

Spraytish: One of those cold/flu/hay fever things that you spray up your nose.

Spawn: A dark comic book series by Todd McFarlane.

Dogs of War: Pink Flyod

Battle of Evermore: Led Zeppelin

Saltwater: Julian Lennon

Brown-eyed Girl: Van Morrison

Pale Grey Eyes: Pollyanna

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Narcissa: Thankyou for the applause, It made me really happy, I hope that this is also to your liking.

Coconut-Ice agent h/h: I'm glad that you think that this is a hoot and yes it is going somewhere eventually. My writing teacher always told me to take my time in a story and that is what I'm doing. Remember that I also have a habit of having something small cumulate into something more important as time progresses.

Chillidog: Thanks as always, and yes I am very Joss Wendon-ish in that respect, but hopefully this won't become progressively worse as it goes along.

As always reviews are welcomed and appreciated