A/N – Yay, we posted! Sorry for the wait, but chapter 3 should be out sometime soon. Thanks for being patient, and don't forget to review!
"The Blob"
"They're here, they're here!" Ginny called as she ran to answer the door, her long red hair flying.
"Our first guests! Who is it?" Hermione called back from the living room, where she was fussing with Ron's bangs.
"Harry, Sirius, and Remus!" Ginny called back, wrenching open the door and beaming at the three men standing on the Burrow's front porch. "Hi!" she said brightly. "Come on in!" She tilted up her cheek and allowed the trio to give her a kiss each as they entered.
"All righty, Ginny, where do I put this?" Sirius said, holding out a dish covered with aluminum foil.
"Ooooh, what is it?" Ginny asked eagerly, tweaking a corner of the foil as she led Sirius to the ancient icebox the Weasleys used in place of a refrigerator.
Sirius slapped her hand away gently, chuckling. "It's a surprise."
"Did Remus make it?"
"No, I did!" the ebony-haired man responded proudly.
The redhead raised her eyebrows. "Are you seri - uhh, telling the truth?"
With a pout, Sirius turned imploringly to his lover. "Remmie!"
"Sirius made it himself, Ginny," Remus admitted, patting Sirius on the head. "Do stop whining, Siri, let's go find Hermione and Ron."
The over excitable Animagus bounded into the living room, where Hermione was just being hugged by Harry.
"Congratulations, Ron, mate," Sirius said cheerfully, clapping Ron on the shoulder.
Ron smiled weakly. "Thanks, Sirius - no kisses!" he cried as Sirius leaned over just for that purpose.
Sirius tossed his hair with a huff. "'Mione doesn't mind my kisses, do you, dear?" he asked the bride-to-be.
"Not at all," Hermione giggled as he pulled her into a tight hug.
The doorbell rang as Ron was shaking hands with Remus. "I'll get it!" Harry said helpfully, and hurried to the door.
It was Seamus, Neville, and Dean, followed closely by Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown (both of whom were looking at the Weasleys' front yard and house with expressions of mingled disgust and wariness).
"Hey, Harry," Seamus said.
"Hi, all," Harry said cheerfully, holding the door open for them. "C'mon in, everyone's in the living room."
He had just closed the door when three loud pop noises announced the arrival of Fred and George, accompanied by Fred's wife, Angelina.
"Hi, Harry," the twins responded in one voice, while Angelina smiled warmly and kissed her former teammate's cheek.
"Hi," Harry grinned. "How's business?"
"Booming," Fred said proudly. "Like you wouldn't believe."
"Our latest line of Mutating Sweets are flying off the shelves," George said happily.
Before Harry could respond, the doorbell rang again, and at the same time Bill and Fleur Apperated into the kitchen.
"We know our way, Harry," Bill said with a wink. "You'd better get the door."
Harry opened the door to find Luna Lovegood standing on the steps, staring dreamily up at the Weasleys' five chimneys. She was wearing a bright pink dress with brown hiking boots; her hair was tied up with a paisley scarf.
"Hello, Harry," she said, breezing past him into the house. "Very nice house, this. Is it yours?"
"No, it's Ron's parents'," Harry replied, shutting the door behind her and showing her into the living room. When they went in he saw Luna was the last to arrive; Percy and Penelope were there already, and so was Charlie and his wife Anica. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny had set out platters of appetizers and everyone was eating and chatting happily. Well – almost everyone.
"I thought you sent an owl to Viktor!" Hermione hissed to Ron: engaged not even a day, they already fought like a married couple (though, noted Harry, they did even before they were an official couple); they had used Ron's hair as an excuse to draw away from the party and bicker. Harry decided wisely that he wouldn't interfere – yet.
Ron held a nervous hand behind his head, tried to smile, and took a step away from his fiancée. "I told you Pig wouldn't reach Bulgaria overnight-"
"And I told you Viktor was in town!" Hermione exploded. Harry winced, feet away, for Ron, who had focused his gaze at the floor.
"Vicky wouldn't have wanted to-"
"Don't call him Vicky!"
Luckily Sirius be-bopped up to Hermione, dancing to an old Beatles song from a beat-up Muggle CD player Remus had brought. (It was turned on only after he had wrestled it from Mr. Weasley, who was intent on figuring out exactly how it worked.) "May I have this dance?" he asked, ushering Hermione away from a white-faced Ron.
Harry grinned at his best friend. "I thought you were done with being jealous of Viktor, huh mate?" he asked playfully.
Ron gritted his teeth and scowled at Harry, then reached for the food table: In two seconds flat, Harry's glasses were covered with chip dip, and Ron had marched away, muttering under his breath, "Stupid, stupid, stupid Vicky…."
Someone giggled behind Harry mistily, and Luna Lovegood squashed a napkin in his hand. She waited until he had cleaned his glasses before asking, almost as if in a trance, "Would you like to dance?"
"Er- all right," he replied, to both their surprises.
The music faltered momentarily and Mrs. Weasley, standing on the arm of a mismatched sofa, cleared her throat. "Dinner's served outside," she announced, and toppled over into Remus' arms amidst the stampede outside.
"Great to see you again, too, Molly dear," he joked.
Mrs. Weasley grinned and made her way out the door, bearing barbeque tongs. "Who wants chicken?" she sang. A laughing Remus followed her, and took a chair between Sirius and Harry.
Once everyone was seated, Hermione and Ron at one end, glaring at each other, Percy stood up, clinked his plastic cup, frowning, and cleared his throat.
The talking raged on.
"Excuse me, everyone; excuse me," Percy yelled.
Luna, Penelope, and Hermione gazed up at him.
"I would like to speak!" Percy finally roared, very red in the face. Ginny chucked a roll at Seamus, talking animatedly to Charlie, and the table was quiet.
"Um- thank you." Percy faltered a moment and regained composure. "Well, yes, anyway – I'd like to seize this opportunity and be the first – and, I hope, not the last – to formally congratulate my youngest brother, Ronald James, and his beautiful fiancée, Hermione Elisabeth, on their-"
"Here, here!" Fred interrupted, and he and George grinned across the table, touched glasses, and downed the frothing liquid inside. Angelina, embarrassed, put her head in her hands.
Percy sniffed. "Right… now, where was…? Oh, yes! This has been long since expected, and now that the time has come, I must say, I am indeed-"
"Let's eat!" Bill exclaimed.
"Of course, 'oney," Fleur cooed, and, with that, Bill fed her a forkful of mashed potatoes.
Ron blanched.
Hermione hit him over the head. "It's cute, and it shows he loves her, and doesn't care about being embarrassed…"
"Well, I love you too," Ron replied, "but I'm not about to feed you, you have two hands and a fork…"
"It's a spork," she said through gritted teeth. Harry sighed – they were at it again.
"What exactly is a spork?" Charlie asked at that moment, holding up his own and squinting at it in puzzlement.
"A combination of a spoon and a fork," Remus piped up at once, "Invented by Muggles, only for, I believe, the purpose of eating coleslaw at take-out chicken restaurants."
"Ingenious," sighed Mr. Weasley in delight. "The things those Muggles come up with..."
Percy finally sat back down, visibly ruffled at not being able to finish his speech. Penelope patted his arm comfortingly and murmured something about 'there's always the wedding'. Percy nodded glumly and hid himself behind his wine goblet.
"Hey!" Fred said. "I just thought of something. Ron, Hermione, where are you going to live?"
"Well," Hermione said, "We'll have to start house-hunting rather soon. I'm rather particular to owning an old, Victorian-style house... think of how fun it would be to fix it up..."
"No way!" Ron said, waving a hand disapprovingly. "We don't have that kind of money. We'll have to get ourselves a flat for the time being."
"Yes, true, but how about a nice little cottage?"
"No, NO! I am NOT living in some gay little -" He was cut off by the sound of a throat being cleared loudly and saw Sirius and Remus glaring Scary Patented Ex-Convict and Werewolf Glares at him. "I mean, stupid - better, mates- cottage."
"You could always buy my uncle's house," Harry said. "The Dursleys are moving to Majorca."
"No thanks," Hermione and Ron said in unison.
"Yeah. The Dursley slime will never come off that house," mumbled Harry to himself.
Hermione turned back to her husband-to-be. "I say we get a sweet little cottage!"
"No! A flat! I don't have enough money!"
"We could rent it!"
"No way! I -"
But their argument was cut off by Mrs. Weasley this time. "I think," she said sternly, "You will have plenty of time to discuss this after your party."
"Sorry, Mum," Ron mumbled, while Hermione smiled apologetically at Mrs. Weasley, who smiled back and turned instead to her cousin, who was busy trying to tape sporks together to make an "Ultimate Spork".
"Sirius! Put down that... thing… and fetch your dessert for us, I think everyone's ready for it."
"Sure thing, Molly," Sirius said cheerfully, abandoning his Ultimate Spork and hurrying back into the house. When he returned, the foil-covered plate was in his hands. They all eyed it a little apprehensively. Ginny squinted. Was it just her, or was the lump under the foil... bigger... than it had been that morning?
"Ta da!" Sirius said, swelling with pride and sweeping the foil off the plate. They stared blankly. Sitting before them was some kind of large, purple blob.
"So? What do you think?" Sirius asked eagerly.
"Uhh... is it supposed to be purple?" Charlie asked.
"Yes."
"Is it edible?" George asked suspiciously.
"I'm not Snape! I'm not trying to poison you!" Sirius said, holding up a knife. "Okay, who wants a chunk?"
Silence. Sirius' bottom lip pooched out. "No one?"
"Oh, I'll be brave," sighed Remus. "Let me try, love."
Sirius beamed and went to cut the blob.
But when he put the blade to the blob, it squeaked loudly and turned blue.
The result was rather startling, considering what the various members had faced throughout their lives. Seamus, who had endured seeing Lavender without make-up during the short time they had gone out, yelped and held his napkin as a shield. Fred, who had encountered childbirth, held out his wand and roared, "Holy!" before Angelina elbowed him. Ron had been pulled into the Whomping Willow, which was a terrifying experience in itself, but nonetheless leapt into Hermione's lap, burying his face in her hair.
Harry, of course, took the cake, having experienced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named every year, in some form, during his stay at Hogwarts. He overcame dementors; saw Cedric die; he had even been attacked by a maniac with someone else's head growing from where his hair should have been, which was truly disturbing.
However, all that didn't stop him from shrieking like a little girl and diving under Luna's chair. "What- what- what is that thing?"
Bill rose from his chair – "Be careful! Sink of our children!" said Fleur – and approached the blob. The party held its collective breath. Bravely, he prodded it with his spork.
It moved!
"That thing is alive," Ginny stated, awed.
"Don't be silly," Remus said, taking a step closer to the blob, which had turned green. Sirius grabbed his arm, but Remus shrugged him off. "Sirius made this, I watched him. This is just- a- dessert!" On that final note, Remus jabbed the blob with his wand.
It jumped. Right onto his wand. Hermione screamed, and Remus backed away from the now-yellow ball of something.
"Remmie, I don't know what went wrong!" Sirius tried to defend himself. "I tried to make it perfectly, but the bottles didn't have labels, so I guessed at what to use!"
Remus paled as the blob climbed over his wand and seemed to double. It was now roughly the size of Hermione's hair, which was considerably large and bushy.
"Oh!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, hands on her hips. "We're all so stupid! All we have to do is use a spell!" But before she could even begin to mutter an incantation, the blob inched toward Penelope.
"Help!" she shrieked, shaking violently as the blob attached itself to her shoe, cooing. "Get it off, get it off, I'm too young to die!" The scene might have been funny if they could have been sure that it was harmless.
"I'll help you, Penny!" Percy cried and took a flying leap to where Penelope sat in shock, the blob contently rubbing against her shoe, steadily growing to the size of a small house-elf.
Within a second, Percy had aimed a kick at the blob, prepared to send it sailing—
Squish. Now the thing was covering Percy's left leg; it was a violent shade of orange. He was hopping around on one foot, screaming wildly. Everyone looked on in horror, except for George and Fred, who were giggling madly, and Sirius, who had spread his legs, wand clutched in a shaking hand, ready to do battle.
"Get it off me, get it off me!" Percy shrieked, the twins doubling up with laughter and making no move at all to help their elder brother.
"Hold still, Perce!" Sirius yelled, pointing his wand at the currently-plaid blob. "I hope this works! STUPEFY!"
The Stunning Spell bounced harmlessly off of the cooing goo and Sirius had to dive out of the way as his hex rebounded on him. He swore as he rolled across the grass, only ending up with a mouthful of dirt. He staggered back to his feet and shook his long hair out of his eyes. Where was the blob now?
"EEEEEEKK!"
Ah. There it was, attached to the hem of Angelina's skirt. She was struggling with it. Sirius charged over to the blob. When it saw (saw?) him coming, it released Angelina and rolled away, turning from plaid to leopard-print.
Sirius chased it across the yard. It was growing steadily as it went, and the party stopped and watched in horror as the blob extended a clump of itself to catch a gnome fleeing from it. The blob ate the gnome, turning from leopard-print to candy-cotton-pink and increasing alarmingly in size.
"What exactly did you MAKE, Sirius?" Mrs. Weasley shouted. "If you don't learn to cook properly you'll find yourself up in front of the Improper Use of Magic Office!"
"I didn't TRY to make it, Molly!" Sirius yelled back, jumping in front of Remus to shield him from the blob. "I was TRYING to make a custard!"
"Do something!" Remus cried in fright.
"IMPEDIMENTA!" Sirius roared. The curse managed to penetrate the blob, sending it flying backwards into the picnic table. It made a loud bubbling noise and began to flash.
"Oh, crud. I think you made it mad," Harry squeaked.
Luna sniffed. "You're all hopeless." She marched bravely up to the blob, seized the salt shaker, and emptied it onto the blob.
The blob began to sizzle and smoke. It shrunk rapidly and turned black. Soon, nothing was left but a few charred remains.
"Er - how did you know what to do with that?" Dean asked, bewildered.
Luna held out that month's issue of The Quibbler. On the front was the headline "Our Pudding Ate My Husband!"
Everyone turned to glare at Sirius.
"IT WASN'T A PUDDING!" he yelled defensively. "IT WAS A CUSTARD!"
-
"All ready to go, Ronnie?" Hermione asked cheerfully, taking her fiancé's hand. Their squabble over Viktor had been forgotten after the incidents of last week's barbecue; but they had remembered it was time to go house-hunting.
"Um, almost. Hermione, I was thinking, d'you think we should bring someone else along to give us a second opinion?"
Hermione stopped to consider this. "We-ell... I suppose we might as well," she agreed. "Should we invite Harry?"
"Naturally. And Sirius and Remus, Harry never goes anywhere without them."
"Which is a good thing. Sometimes those two forget they're not teenagers anymore. Harry keeps them in line."
"Not always. Remember the trip to France…?"
"Oh, yeah... and that trip to the Natural History Museum..."
"And the time we went to the furniture store to buy Harry a new bed, and they insisted on trying out all the beds..."
"Well, they did test almost all of them before the manager kicked them out..." Hermione said, going over to the fireplace and taking down the Floo Powder.
-
"Sure, we'd love to go," Harry said eagerly. He was kneeling on the floor in front of the fireplace, talking to Hermione's head. "But last night was the full moon. I don't think Remus is up to it."
"Oh, I forgot about that," Hermione said sadly.
"Here, I'll go ask," Harry said, hurrying out of the living room and heading down the hallway to Sirius' and Remus' room.
Remus was lying in bed with the blankets pulled to his chin, evidently trying to sleep, but Sirius was stroking his hair and trying to sing him a lullaby, which was NOT helping him get to sleep. The lullaby was in French, which Remus spoke but Sirius didn't, and it was quite annoying to listen to badly pronounced French interspersed with "Um... line!" or "er... something, something..." when Sirius either forgot the words or couldn't remember how to say them. So it came as something of a relief when Harry knocked on the door and entered.
"Hermione and Ron want to know if we want to go house-hunting with them," he said. "I told them you probably can't go, Remus, but they still want me and Sirius to come."
Yay! A chance for blessed relief! Remus closed his eyes and quickly thanked God. "Oh, you two, go on, it'll be fun."
"I don't wanna leave you, Remmie!" Sirius wailed. "You NEED me!"
"I'll be fine. I'll just sleep until you come home. Go on, don't disappoint Ron and Hermione."
"Okay then," Sirius sighed. "Don't leave this bed until I get home!"
"I won't," Remus promised as Sirius kissed his cheek. "Have fun!"
Harry ran to the fireplace where Hermione was waiting, glancing idly around the room. "Sirius wants to come!" he said happily, kneeling by the fire.
"Oh good!" Hermione exclaimed. "Hopefully that'll stop Ron from picking out the most horrid, flea-bitten- ow! Harry, I think Ron wants to get going."
"All right. We'll meet you-"
"Outside Florean Fortescue's in an hour. Ron and I are going to have a quick lunch, but we're going to meet this real estate friend of Ron's mum there."
Harry looked skeptical. "A magical agent? I thought you wanted a nice, normal place."
"Well…" she sighed. "Ron won that one. But we're looking at some in Muggle neighbourhoods, so do have Sirius wear something appropriate, and I told Ron we are not renting a flat! Bye Harry!" With a quick pop Hermione disappeared, leaving Harry looking on, dumbfounded.
He had a feeling he was in for much more than he bargained for.
-
Harry walked down Diagon Alley in the bright sunshine, accompanied by Sirius, who had attempted to dress himself like a Muggle – unfortunately, the only clothes he had left over from his non-magical summers during his late Hogwarts days included both sequins and ruffles, which embarrassed Harry to no end. He didn't look like a wizard, like Hermione had asked, but he didn't exactly look normal either.
"Harry! Sirius! Over here!" Hermione called from a seat next to Ron, who was blushing like mad (probably because of Sirius' pants, thought Harry; they were not only leather, but very tight). Perched on a chair opposite Ron was a very blonde, bird-like woman who had focused her gaze on Sirius interestedly.
All three rose when Harry and Sirius approached. "Harry, Sirius, this is Ms. Adele Finch, our real estate agent." Harry shook her hand amidst a chorus of hellos and shared a look with Ron. Hermione just continued, "Now, she says there're a couple of nice places for rent down in Kent, but they're in non-magical areas so we'll have to take the Knight Bus, I think…."
Ron turned a pale green and Ms. Finch eyed Sirius, nodding; Sirius just pulled at a loose thread attached to his cuff. Harry sighed.
The ride on the Knight Bus was rocky but, for the most part and to everyone's immense relief, uneventful. It did take Ron a quarter of an hour to catch his breath and be able to walk steadily, Hermione cooing, "It's all right, Ronnie, we'll take the Underground next time…." Harry considered that a minor technicality.
They had bigger fish to fry.
"Well, it really is a charming house, you know… Everything's working and up code, magical and not, and the neighbours are really nice people… they live in Aruba nine months of the year, only the grandmother lives there year-round, but she's blind and doesn't get out much, don't worry about her…."
"You'd have to be blind to live next to this monstrosity," Sirius stated bluntly. Harry and Hermione nodded, but Ron could only look on in horror at what had to be the most horrible, frightening house ever created.
"I am not living in a pink house," he managed to squeak.
"Ron, don't be ridiculous!" Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste at the lurid, shocking pink house they stood in front of. "We could… paint it. That might be… fun," she added, uncertainly.
Ron only squeaked again, incoherently.
Under his breath, Sirius added, "It looks like the colour of Tonks' hair…."
"Well, let's… have a look inside, shall we?" Ms. Finch said softly, making her way to the house carefully. The other four followed, stepping around mounds of dirt and broken toys. What seemed like years and years of discarded furniture, old clothing, and rotten food was piled in the front yard, almost overtaking all else and spilling into the neighbours' lawn. The pile was topped by an old, mouldy Mr. Potato Head doll.
"Hey, that's my shirt!" Sirius exclaimed, pointing at the bottom of the pile.
Ron gagged.
"Are the – er – lighting fixtures a permanent – well – part of the house?" Harry, of course, was referring to the wicker reindeer adorned with flashing lights; they were placed strategically around the roof, a huge Santa bearing the legend, "Ho, ho, ho!" stuck smack in the middle of it all. Plastic candy canes stuck jaggedly from the ground and fake icicles "dripped" from the roof. Coloured lights twinkled merrily along the gutter (many bulbs were broken) and a dead wreath hung, crumbling, from the front door.
It was all so… Christmas-y. Too bad it was April.
Ms. Finch nodded her head sadly. "Just think, at least the house is always decorated for Christmas!" Hermione and Sirius exchanged a look.
"The inside's lovely!" the agent exclaimed as she flung the door open, revealing a kitchen with dirty, peeling grey wallpaper. Grease ran down the sides of the stove and Harry was almost positive he saw a rat slink away.
"Did the former occupants, by any chance, just up and leave without taking any of their stuff?" Harry asked, pointing at the porcelain sink overflowing with dishes encrusted with who-knew-what.
Ms. Finch smiled shakily. "Actually, they were in the Mafia, they needed to get out quickly for some reason…."
Harry saw Hermione shudder and pale, as Ron's eyes widened. Ms. Finch tried to pull off a giggle. "Look, the master bedroom's right through this door!"
It was almost as if they were in some two-star American horror film rated "The Pits!" by the New York Times. The walks were pink, white, red, orange, and purple polka-dotted, and the putrid green shag carpet totally clashed. As for the moth-eaten curtains, well, Harry didn't think Mafia gangsters really favoured cream lace. "Shield your eyes!" Sirius called, turning away.
"Oh, it isn't that bad, really," Ms. Finch said, pulling an empty beer bottle off the dresser.
"Is that… blood?" Harry asked uncertainly, staring at the bed. Sirius looked revolted.
"I think we've seen quite enough!" Hermione exclaimed, backing out of the room. Sirius was trying to comfort Ron, who had been quiet but was now hyperventilating.
-
Twenty minutes later, Ron had recovered and the group had traveled by Muggle bus to a nearby neighbourhood. There, Ms. Finch showed them a perfectly normal looking house, grey-blue with white trim.
"The last owner of this house passed away recently… she was an old woman. Not blind," she said as Sirius began to open his mouth. "The flower beds are a bit overgrown, and the driveway needs repaving, but it's very nice, don't you think?"
"Yes, it's cute!" Hermione said enthusiastically, her mind already clicking over things like drapes and flower boxes and who knew what else.
"Er... let's see the inside," Ron suggested. Ms. Finch nodded and led them into the house. They all stopped and stared.
The house was perfectly normal inside as well. The wallpaper was striped and not peeling, the carpets matched, and everything was clean.
But then there were the cats.
Hundreds of them, it seemed. Cats on every surface. On the floor. On the countertops. On the windowsills and shelves. EVERYWHERE.
"Dear Lord," Sirius said, paling visibly.
Ron sighed as several cats wound themselves, mewing, around his ankles. "Well, it won't be so bad after we get rid of all these cats."
With an embarrassed chuckle, Ms. Finch fiddled with her clipboard. "Er... technically, the cats own the house. You'd be their tenants."
"The cats……own the house?" Harry, Ron, and Hermione asked in unison, while Sirius made a face.
"Well, yes," Ms. Finch said. "The old owner left the house to her cats, who were her favourite family members..."
"Muggles are WEIRD," Ron said fervently as they left the cat house.
Hermione shook her head sadly. "Too bad, really," she mumbled. "It was such a nice house."
"You could've always trained the cats to be your own Army of the Damned," Sirius chuckled. "Go, my pretties! Kill! Kill!"
Everyone stared at him. Ron wondered if the sequined purple shirt Sirius was wearing wasn't cursed to lower the man's intelligence.
Once again, they took a trip by Muggle bus to the next house. Hermione was noticing that all the houses seemed to get shabbier and shabbier as they went along, and when they got off the bus she was horrified to find herself standing beside a large billboard, which read:
"Whispering Pines Trailer Park. 7 Days Since Last Tornado."
They stared in horror as Ms. Finch led them down the narrow 'street' between the rows of trailers. Muggles were peering curiously out windows and around doors as they passed; all of them seemed to be missing teeth and all wore plaid or checkered shirts. The dustbins were overflowing, almost all the trailers had rusty cars in their front yards, and the trailers themselves were faded, with peeling paint. The strains of The Jerry Springer Show drifted from several of them.
"Dear Lord," Sirius murmured again. "Is it just me, or is this place tacky?"
Ms. Finch decided to ignore his comment and contented herself by sneaking a glance at Sirius' leather-clad arse. "Now. Trailers are ideal for couples starting out - small, cozy..."
Hermione and Ron exchanged skeptical looks.
"Cozy doesn't even begin to describe it," Sirius muttered, peering gingerly around the corner of the trailer. A narrow strip of grass and weeds separated this trailer from its neighbour. "Is that supposed to be a yard?"
Once again, Ms. Finch ignored him, and smiled reassuringly at Ron and Hermione. "Shall we take a look inside?"
"All right…." they said reluctantly. Ms. Finch beamed and opened the rusty screen door.
With a loud creak and a shower of rust flakes, the door broke off its hinges and tumbled down the steps.
Ron, Hermione, Sirius, and Harry all groaned.
-
"So, Ms. Finch, where is the next house?" Harry asked, leaning forward to where the agent sat, squished, between the cab driver and Sirius. She didn't seem uncomfortable (rather, it seemed to be a game of how close she could get to Sirius without him saying something).
Harry, however, had become exceedingly bored over an hour ago: first, he had tried counting people in other cars who were doing something other than just driving (the weirdest he had come across was one woman shaving her legs and talking on a cell phone); when they turned into the sparse country and run out of cars, Harry counted cows. Now he was resigned to sitting in the backseat, doing nothing but trying to sleep, which had been rather pleasant for awhile.
But now Hermione's whimpering and Ron's reassuring, "We'll find something, don't worry…" was getting on his nerves. So much, in fact, that he was about to hit something. Repeatedly. With force.
"We're right… about… there," the blonde replied as the cab pulled to a stop and Ron forked some Muggle money to Harry, who counted it for him.
Everyone piled out like clowns, Sirius signaling to the driver to wait. Harry dropped to his knees and kissed the ground; "Sweet, sweet earth, how I love you…."
Ron gasped to Harry's right: before them, up on a hill, sat a huge manor house. They walked up the cobbled walkway, taking in the lawns, perfectly manicured, that seemed to go on forever, and the forest and glittering lake beyond. The house seemed even larger than the Grangers' mansion. "Bloody hell," Sirius whispered, awed.
"Ron, it's so beautiful!" Hermione exclaimed, squeezing his hand tightly.
Ron sighed unhappily. "You know there's no way we could ever afford this place, Hermione."
Ms. Finch chuckled and turned onto a narrow path, beckoning the rest to follow her. "There's a smaller place back here, the manor already has occupants. Don't worry, it's right in your price range. And," she added, wiggling her eyebrows, "the only family around here, the one in the manor house, is magical."
"I can't believe they have a topiary," Sirius breathed. Ron had a sudden knot of foreboding wedged somewhere between his kidneys and spleen.
From among the trees emerged a cottage, stone with a red-shingled roof. It was white and smelt of fresh paint; the door had its own brass knocker. Best of all, the tiny garden out front was brimming with all sorts of flowers and plants, and a white picket fence ran around the perimeter of the (rather large) property.
"Ron, this is my dream house." Hermione kissed her fiancé and grinned.
"I'd like to see the inside," he stated grimly, remembering the cat house.
"Very well." Ms. Finch beamed and pulled out a small key; she pushed open the front door, which led into a beautiful sunken living room. Sunlight streamed in upon the hardwood floor and blue shag rug, and Sirius sank comfortably into the white arm chair.
Hermione ran down the hall and flung open a door. "Ron, come look at this!" she squealed.
The bedroom was wonderful. White curtains puffed out and were tied back with strips of lace; the bedspread on the canopy was covered with a yellow-and-lilac-flower print. Hermione exclaimed over the sliding closet doors and turned the bedside lamp on and off. "It's completely furnished," Ms. Finch said proudly.
"Ron, I want this house!" Hermione threw her arms around him and hugged tightly. "Please? I'm in love with it already."
Ms. Finch grinned and held up some papers. "It just needs signing and it's yours."
For a minute Ron just stood there, seemingly calculating. Then—
"Okay, what's the catch?"
"Catch? What Catch?" Ms. Finch asked innocently, eyes wide.
Ron narrowed his eyes. "The Mafia, the cats, the trailer… what's the catch?" he repeated.
"Well…." Ms. Finch tapped her chin thoughtfully. "There are a few minor things… you eat in the main dining room of the manor, and you do your laundry up there. That's it." She sat on the bed and propped up her heeled feet.
Hermione looked at Ron. "Oh, well, that might be kind of fun… please Ron, please can we move in?"
Through gritted teeth he asked, "Who's the family? Who lives in the manor?" That knot in his stomach was tightening.
Ms. Finch paused and bit her lip; Hermione looked at Ron earnestly. "Well, the Malfoys, but—"
Ron turned on his heels and pulled Hermione after him. They passed Harry, who was poking around in the cupboards, apparently looking for some imperfection. They passed Sirius, who had buried himself in his purple silk and was starting to fall asleep. "We're leaving," he announced, marching back to the cab, pulling a protesting Hermione, Ms. Finch sputtering after.
"But Ron!" Hermione cried, looking up at him. "It's- it's perfect… why…?"
"I will not live in the Malfoys' backyard!" Ron exclaimed, looking harassed.
With that, Hermione promptly burst into tears.
Harry came running out of the house. "Hey, wait up!" he yelled, jumping into the cab and nearly setting himself in Ms. Finch's lap. "Oops, sorry."
As the cab pulled away, Ron put an awkward arm around Hermione's shoulders. "I'm sorry, 'Mione... but think about it... would you really want to look out the window and see... Draco sunbathing naked, or something like that?"
"But it was s-so nice..." Hermione sobbed.
Meanwhile, back at the Malfoys', Sirius was stretched out on the comfy bed, playing with his hair and starting to doze off. He hadn't yet realized he had been left behind. He thought Ms. Finch was taking the others on a tour of the grounds. He smiled and closed his eyes.
"The only thing that would make this bed better would be having Remmie in here with me," he mumbled before falling asleep.
Narcissa Malfoy carried a load of linens down to the servants' cottage, frowning severely. She HATED doing laundry, but since Dobby had been rescued by that wretched Potter boy the laundry had fallen entirely on her shoulders. She and Lucius couldn't find any servants of the wizarding kind, and they were not about to let a filthy Muggle clean their manor! So, Narcissa was stuck carting the laundry back and forth like... like... like one of those Weasleys!
She pushed the door open with her shoulder and scowled harder. That damned realtor had left it open again.
As she entered the bedroom with her load of linens, a large purple-and-black thing lying on the bed caught her attention at once. She shrieked, dropping all the sheets, and whipped out her wand.
"Heh? Eh?"
The thing spluttered and sat up, and Narcissa realized it was a man dressed in a purple silk shirt and black leather trousers, his long black hair hanging in his face. The man flipped his hair back and blinked sleepily at her, and Narcissa realized who it was - her cousin, Sirius Black.
"What are you doing here!" Narcissa demanded.
"I was sleeping," Sirius said. "Waiting for that creepy realtor to bring Harry, Ron, and Hermione back." He noticed the sheets all over the floor. "Oh. Did you want to make the bed?"
"GET - OUT!" Narcissa screamed, snatching up a nearby china figurine and hurling it at his head.
Sirius ducked and the figurine shattered against the wall over the headboard. "Sheesh. If you're gonna be that way, I'll be glad to leave!" He slid off the bed and straightened his shirt. "Have you seen the others?"
Narcissa ground her teeth. "No, but a cab just pulled away from here a few minutes ago."
Sirius yelped. "They left me behind!" He jumped over the pile of sheets and ran out of the cottage.
Narcissa looked down at the rumpled sheets and began to cry.
-
While Narcissa was throwing figurines at Sirius, Ron had managed to comfort Hermione. Well, he stopped her crying, at least.
Ms. Finch looked relieved. "Now... there is one more house I can show you here in Kent…." she leaned forward and murmured something to the driver.
"It better not be a cat house," Ron grumbled. "Or a trailer."
As this was going on, Harry was squirming in his seat. For the last ten minutes he had had the annoying feeling that they had forgotten something. What could it be?
"Have you ever felt like you didn't do something, but know you did, but can't help thinking you forgot anyway, Sirius?" he asked.
No response.
"Sirius?"
Still no answer. Harry did a quick head count. "Me, Hermione, Ron, Ms. Finch, cab driver… …hang on... WHERE'S SIRIUS!"
The others jumped at his shout.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Ron asked, looking round curiously.
"WE LEFT SIRIUS AT THE MALFOYS'!"
There was a moment of silence. Then -
"Oh, crud." Ron mumbled.
"Oh no," Hermione moaned. "I knew there was something wrong, I didn't hear any sarcastic mumblings… …we've got to go back and get him!"
And so they had the disgruntled cab driver turn around and go back. When they reached the Malfoys' once more, they found a very despondent and sleepy-looking Sirius sitting on the curb with his head in his hands and grass in his hair.
"The gardener chased me off the property," he mumbled before anyone could ask, wedging himself into the front seat between Ms. Finch and the door. He was silent the rest of the drive, picking grass out of his hair and flicking it out the window.
"Here we are," Ms. Finch sang as the cab pulled up to a small white cottage with black shutters and a neatly-kept flower bed. "The last house on our stop."
They clambered out. "Ooh, it's lovely," Hermione said, beginning to recover from her big disappointment.
Ms. Finch beamed. "The inside's just as lovely as the outside," she said. "Come, let's go look."
Harry looked around when they reached the front porch and saw that his godfather was still standing at the gate, frowning, hands on his hips.
"We're not going to leave you behind again, Sirius," he teased, unable to help himself.
"That's not it," Sirius said. "It's just that this house looks really familiar. Talk about déja vu." He shook himself out of his trance and followed Harry into the house.
The house was lovely on the inside, not as nice as the Malfoys' cottage, but still very nice all the same. A few pieces of furniture were still in the house, some covered by old sheets.
"The furniture comes with the house," Ms. Finch said. "The old owner was a carpenter, but when he joined the Army, he and his family couldn't take all the furniture he had made, so they decided to sell it along with the house. What do you think?"
Hermione was peeking under one of the sheets, entranced by the beautiful hutch beneath it. "I think it's beautiful!"
"It's okay," Ron said, relieved. "Can we see the backyard?"
"Certainly," Ms. Finch said, beckoning them to the back door and opening it.
"Oooooh!" Hermione squealed.
Flower beds surrounded the yard, partially hiding the white picket fence. The house had a large back porch, complete with a swing, and the yard looked big enough to have a Weasley family barbecue with no problem at all. But the best part was at the back of the yard, almost opposite the back door.
"A koi pond!" Hermione cried in delight, rushing over to the pond. Ms. Finch followed, smiling.
"Unfortunately, there are no fish in it yet, but there's a pet shop nearby that carry koi and Japanese goldfish," she said.
Hermione's disappointment over not getting the Malfoys' was dissipating fast. She clutched at Ron's arm. "I want it, I want it!" she said eagerly. "Please, Ron, please?"
With a sigh, Ron took the papers from Ms. Finch and scanned them. His eyebrows raised slightly. "Pretty reasonable price."
Hermione squealed. She grabbed Sirius by the hand and the two of them danced in a circle. Ms. Finch's smile widened.
"An excellent choice! Now, if you'll come back to the office, we'll go over the papers…."
They were heading back to the cab when a cheerful voice called, "Yoo-hoo! Find a house?"
Right across the street was Remus, leaning out his bedroom window and waving merrily.
Sirius slapped himself in the forehead. "Now I know why I recognized this house! It's right across the street from mine!" He waved back at Remus.
"Let me warn you now, you might have trouble sleeping living across from them," Harry muttered to his friends. "Take it from me. My bedroom's right next to theirs."
Ron looked revolted as he followed Ms. Finch into the cab. Hermione merely shook her head and muttered, "Men……."
-
Upcoming attractions….
Ch/3: If You Like PiñaColadas – Harry, Remus, Hermione, and Ron make out invitations, Sirius picks the music… and gets drunk. Figures. And what is it with inviting Snape… and Bellatrix!