The Locked Room
Chapter 2: Surprises
The evening grass was damp under her feet as Hermione approached the Burrow. The night was warm, and Hermione almost began to regret wearing the concealing, thick sweater when she knocked on the Weasley's door.
"Hermione, you don't need to knock!" a voice yelled from inside – Ron's. Walking in, she replied:
"I can't help it if my parents raised me to be polite… and I listened," she added as Mrs. Weasley bustled in, holding plates and bowls.
"Thank you, Hermione. I know the boys are lacking when it comes to manners. Give us a hand setting the table, will you?" she asked. Ginny was already sitting at the table, looking up now and then, presumably to see what Harry was doing.
"Ginny, I'd give up if I were you," Hermione told her. Ginny sighed and turned to look at her friend.
"You know, when he broke up with me last year, I didn't think he'd take it quite so seriously," she whispered as Harry and Ron raced out to the yard with their broomsticks like a couple of second years. "Besides, why should I give up when you're still holding a torch for Ron?"
"What? Ron? I am not still holding a torch for him… whatever was about to happen with us is over. I mean, since we all live together, I hope it's over. Besides, I have a date tonight."
"Well I hope Ron knows it's over… Wait a second; did you just say you have a date tonight?"
"Yes, I did. What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, apparently. What's his name?"
"Charlie."
"My brother Charlie! Oh that's rich…"
"Not your brother! Charlie Perkins."
"Well thank Merlin for that. Where'd you meet him?"
"Today at work. There were some other interesting characters there, too. This girl named Marie, for example. She was bloody full of herself... thought she knew everything."
"So, she's a prettier version of you, then?" Ginny snickered at her. Hermione glowered at the redhead.
"It doesn't matter, because I'm going out with Charlie around ten."
"Good luck making up an excuse and pulling it off. Mum might let it slide, but if Ron finds out, you're dead."
"He has no right to get angry if I go out with Charlie."
"What about Charlie?" Ron came staggering into the kitchen, slightly winded and pink.
"Did I just hear you say you were going out with Charlie, Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley asked from the doorway as Ron stood there bewildered. Hermione groaned and Ginny started laughing.
"Charlie Perkins," Hermione said for the umpteenth time as one after another, the entire Weasley family and Harry assumed she was talking about Charlie Weasley. Ron had not spoken a word throughout the entire explanation except to run his hands through already messy hair and murmur "Bloody Hell…"
Hermione kept glancing anxiously at her watch. She wanted to pop home and see if she looked alright before meeting him at the Leaky Cauldron. The Weasleys wouldn't shut up about her date.
"Please, I've had dates before!" she shouted at the masses as they cooed over this prospect as though she were 16 and green as grass.
"Yeah, with Viktor Krum," Ginny snorted. Hermione blushed because that actually was the only time she had ever been on anything minutely resembling an actual date.
"I should really get going…" she said, anxious to escape the mortifying situation.
"I don't think I've heard of any Perkins boy around here or at Hogwarts, have you Arthur?" questioned Mrs. Weasley.
"Could be related to Perkins at the office," contributed Arthur quietly.
"Sure, Charlie Perkins was in our year, wasn't he Fred?" George bellowed.
"Oh yeah, he was a Ravenclaw I think. Seemed like a nice chap. Family had lots of money, and we didn't have time for those goody-two-shoes types. Although he didn't seem half bad."
While this conversation was taking place, Hermione crept out into the backyard, avoiding Ron's eyes and disapparated back to their flat. Discarding the thick sweater, Hermione opted for a slinky wrap around her shoulders instead and made sure every hair was in place on her head before appearing at the Leaky Cauldron.
She was a few minutes early, but Charlie was already there, seated at the counter with a Butterbeer in his hand. His messy light brown hair was slightly tidier than it had been that afternoon, and he was wearing a jacket instead of just a T-shirt. His hazel eyes were friendly in the soft light of the bar, and Hermione felt welcomed, almost like he was giving her a hug just with his smile.
"Hermione Granger got my note," he said, the corners of his eyes wrinkling attractively as he grinned some more.
"I did, and I came although I just barely escaped…"
"Escaped from what? Did Marie come to your house and try to strangle you?" Hermione chuckled.
"No, I was at the Weasley's house. Fred and George say they know of you."
"Ah yes, we're acquaintances really, although I've always admired their handiwork from afar. Did they tell you about the time in our first year when they snuck a chizpurfle into one of Snape's cauldrons and it ate anything he tried to pour in there?"
"No, they didn't tell us that one. Oh, I'll have a Butterbeer as well," she said to Tom the barkeeper.
"I'm afraid I'm not much of a drinker, but I figure if we have enough of these we'll get a nice tingly feeling." Hermione beamed at him.
"So what do you think of this 'locked room'?" Hermione asked him.
"I'd wager you know more about it than I do," he said slyly. "Hermione Granger, top of her graduating class a year ago, helped Harry Potter defeat You-Know-Who, destroyed several Horcruxes, not to mention all the fascinating things you did during school, involving the Philosopher's Stone, being petrified by the basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets, and the list goes on, apparently…" he winked at her.
"You've certainly done your homework," she said, looking a little concerned that someone should know so much about her.
"You surprised me today, and I wanted to know more about you. It wasn't difficult to find things out by asking around, not to mention my very important contacts in the Hall of Records."
"Well, all I really know about that room is that it contains love, the most powerful form of magic and therefore the most underrated."
"I guess we'll just have to find out for ourselves," Charlie smirked and raised his glass to her.
"That shouldn't be too difficult for you, with all of your terribly important contacts and such."
"I only exert myself that much for things I care to know about, or people," he added avoiding her eyes. Hermione smiled into her drink.
Hermione came back to the flat around two in the morning with a nice tingly feeling. She twirled around the kitchen table for no particular reason, she thought. She twirled again to get into the living room but ran smack into something rather tall and muscular.
"Oof!" said the masculine voice, as Hermione screamed slightly.
"RON? What are you doing there?"
"What are you doing twirling around at two in the morning?"
"Well, I just got in."
"WHAT?" he bellowed. Hermione frantically waved her arms around.
"You'll wake up Harry, not to mention the rest of the building!"
"I don't care! I won't have you coming in this late, Hermione!"
"And who are you? My father? And why should you care anyway? It's none of your business what I do!"
"Oh, it isn't, eh?" he said sarcastically. "I think it is my business!"
"Why?" she said, defiantly looking up at him at an awkward angle.
"Because I -," he faltered, "Because I think I love you."