Chapter 9- Sorting the Spare Room
Ron stood beside the spare room door, bracing himself for what was to come. The things that they had eventually ordered from Hartes and Rowses' (once they had swallowed their pride and gone back in) were supposed to be arriving the next day, and they had nowhere to put them. He had eventually discovered that Hermione's "spring-cleaning" several months ago had basically consisted of throwing everything in the spare room and slamming the door shut before it could all fall out, and so he was naturally rather concerned for his safety. He took a deep breath, flung the door open and dashed for cover.
Luckily nothing fell out of the room, but only because it was too well wedged in. Ron let out a dismayed groan. There was junk everywhere! He would never, ever finish cleaning this room! It would take him the rest of his life!
No! he scolded himself. This needs doing, and you are going to do it! And what's more, you are going to get it done before Hermione comes home this evening! Hermione had disappeared, due to a rather convenient "work emergency", which Ron found highly suspicious, but he hadn't argued. He heaved a great sigh. Here goes nothing…
Hermione arrived home at 6 o'clock to find her husband sitting on the living room floor, surrounded by what appeared to be the aftermath of some terrible catastrophe. Half-filled boxes of books littered the carpet and there were at least a dozen black bags crammed full of assorted odds and ends, which appeared to be on the verge of exploding. Ron looked up and smiled smugly at his wife.
"Ha! I told you I could do it!" he said, wiping a smudge of dust off of the end of his nose.
"Do what? Destroy our home?" Hermione said, horror-stricken. "Will you look at this mess!"
"What? This?" Ron said, gesturing at the debris scattered around the room. "Nah, don't worry, all I've gotta do is carry this stuff out to the dumpsters out back and we're done! May I just say, by the way," he said, leaning in towards her, "that we really do own a tremendous amount of junk? It's actually quite amazing!"
"This can't all be going out!" Hermione said, dismayed. "What about those books over there? I love those books!"
"Hermione," Ron said impatiently, "I found these books buried right at the back of the room, underneath a box of Christmas cards from five years ago! You probably haven't seen them since the day you bought them!"
"But still…" Hermione whined, " do we have to throw them out? Can't we find somewhere for them?"
"No! I am not backing down on this! We are not keeping any more junk!" Ron said, giving her a very firm look.
"Fine!" Hermione pouted. "We'll get rid of them! Come on, then, let's take this trash out the back." She picked up the box of books that was lying nearest her and began to walk towards the door.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Ron said hastily. "What d'you think you're doing, carrying that? It's far too heavy!"
"Oh, stop fussing, Ron! I can manage it!"
"Hermione, you're pregnant! You shouldn't be carrying huge boxes of books around! You should be resting," Ron said calmly.
"Ron, this box contains four paperbacks! My handbag weighs more than that!" Hermione yelled irately.
"Calm down, sweetheart," Ron said, in a voice which he believed to be soothing but which Hermione simply found extremely patronising. "Why don't I take this out to the rubbish, and you go make us a cup of tea, okay dear?"
"No that is NOT okay!" Hermione shrieked indignantly. "Why don't I just bugger off, seeing as I'm obviously of no use whatsoever?" And with that she flung the box of books down on the ground and Disapparated with a violent crack.