Getting to Know You
Ron Weasley sat across the table from his daughter. She was telling him all about her childhood. He was surprised at the fact that Hermione never dated until Hilary was about 10, only one year ago. And the date had not only ended well, it ended worse then anything Ron had ever experienced. Apparently they started talking about life and dating, and children when he said that he thought children were a waste of time and should just be born and sent to reform school. Hermione did not take well to that, she was always very close to her parents. She talked about how much she loved children, especially her daughter. Hilary told more about how he thought that any woman would be insane to raise a child on her own and should have left Hilary with her father, 'give him the burden to bear'. Hilary began to laugh when she told him what happened next. She conjured up a bottle of firewiskey and a cherry pie, and then kindly offered him a piece of pie.
The idiot accepted and she shoved the entire thing in his face. Then Hermione came up behind Hilary and squeezed her daughter's shoulders. "Telling him my personal stories are you?"
"Yes." Said Hilary smartly, "would you like to finish this one for me?"
Hermione sat down, "Well I guess that would not be too difficult. The man, Percival was his name, blinked stupidly at me, much like you are keen to do," she added pointedly, "and then picked up his napkin.
"'Don't bother!' I said to him, 'that would be very unkind of me not to offer you a drink to wash it down.' Then I popped open the bottle of firewiskey and dumped it on his head." She sat back, "and as you well know. It is only bearable if you are drinking it, the 'fire' part of the whiskey is much more pronounced when it touches skin. But you know that feeling." She smiled at Ron and hugged Hilary. "Honey I am going to go to the Library for a second." She said then stood up and walked out of the Great hall.
Hilary leaned forward, "Did she ever do that to you?"
"The firewiskey part." He smiled. "Twice."
OoOO00OOoO
Aila watched with disgust as she saw her dad talking to Hilary. He was giving her some special treatment. And Hilary was soaking it all up. They were talking animatedly to each other. Probably about Quidditch or something like that. It sickened Aila to watch. She turned her head and stated at her plate. She was sitting alone at the Gryffindor Table. All of her cousins were off with their parents exploring the grounds, or the castle, and maybe even at Hogsmede. But Aila was the only one not enjoying this weekend. Her mother was who knows where, doing who knows what, and her father was occupied with his new and favorite daughter.
After stuffing a last piece of toast between her teeth she stood up and walked, sulking, out of the Great Hall. She wanted to get away from her family. Where would be one place that her father would never go? Her first instinct would be the Women's restroom, but she couldn't imagine spending time in the restroom. She was about to go to her Dormitory when she thought of the perfect place. The Library.
Why would her father, Ron Weasley, ever want to go to the Library? She smiled, congratulating herself on her cleverness. She would be able to read and stay away from her backstabbing father. She entered the Library and smiled. She loved the smell of all of these books. They were all smelled different, depending on when they were made. The older ones smelled musty, and had the 'old' smell that could never be described. The Ones that were only about 10 years old smelled like parchment and smoke, but the newer ones were the best. They had the crisp combination of parchment and ink, a scent that would wear away in about five years.
Of course she never told anyone that she analyzed the smells of books that would be very weird and awkward to explain. She walked straight to her favorite table to sit at and study. But to her utter shock, it was occupied. No one ever sat there. It was a very different place to sit. It was in the corner of the Library, surrounded by bookshelves. And all the books were fantasy stories, for interest reading. The lighting was dim, perfect for young eyes, and the table was old (and smelled really good too). But the person at the table wasn't just anyone. It was her mother. Perfect. Aila groaned inwardly. She wasn't so clever after all.
OoOO00OOoO
Hermione heard someone walk up. She sighed and shook her head. Ron Weasley did not know when to quit. And who knew he would remember where her spot was anyway? "What do you want?" she asked without looking up.
"Excuse me!" answered the voice of a girl, "I didn't mean to interrupt you, but no need to sound so pushy." Aila turned and was about to walk away.
"I'm sorry!" called Hermione, "I thought you were your father."
Aila turned to look at Hermione in the eye. "What did he do to you? From all I have ever heard it was all you doing things to him."
"I.."
"Shut up. I am not finished yet." She walked closer to Hermione, "From what I can tell you broke my father's heart the day you left. And I don't understand why. Anyone who hurts my father hurts me, and is dirt beneath my feat, ashes in the fireplace, low lives not worthy to breath the air I breathe. How dare you hurt my father?"
Hermione took a short breath, "You said you would give me one day. So please let me try. I wont be cheap and try to buy you, or be dumb and tell you everything about me from where I was born to how many hairs are on my head. But I will try nonetheless. But no matter how hard I try, nothing will happen unless you accept it. I heard you always wanted a mother. And here I am."
"There are other women in the world." Snarled Aila, "How do you know I am waiting for you?"
"Because your father is waiting for me. I can just tell. You are waiting for the woman your father will sweep off of their feet. And he wants that woman to be me. And you know it. And sadly, you hate it."
"The omniscient mother. I don't like it."
"I don't know everything."
Aila laughed, "But you actually think you do. My father was right you are a know it all."
"I heard you were one too."
"Yes but not nearly as cocky as you."
Hermione grinned, she liked this girl, "I think we are going to get alone just fine my dear."
Aila grinned, "I think so too."
OoOO00OOoO
Hilary looked at her father, who was dramatically telling her about all of his saves when he was Gryffindor keeper. He was scooting up and down his bench to show the moving of his broom, (one of those ancient cleensweeps, that's almost as bad as the pathetic firebolts!) he finished with both fists in the air saying "VICTORY!"
Hilary leaned back in her seat laughing at her father, who was looking around the great hall to see if anyone was looking. A couple of other adults at the Gryffindor table were laughing at her father, they apparently remembered exactly what save he was talking about. "See you agree that was a good one, eh Alicia!"
"Yes wonderful save. But as you said that I just wanted to a loud chorus of the Slytherin version of "Weasley is Our King"."
"That wouldn't be very nice." Said Dad blandly.
"Hilary, he has definitely told you enough about his miraculous saves, but he has neglected to inform you that for the majority of the season he was downright dreadful."
"Oh, I wasn't that bad."
"Of Course not. And those blast ended skrewts were little bitty salamanders."
"Close enough" mumbled Dad, who stabbed his sausage and glared at it, "Go on. Humiliate me further."
"Good." Said Alicia, "I will. He couldn't save a thing. After the first day of practice the Slytherins had a song about him and how horrible he was. It was called 'Weasley is Our King'." And she began to sing.
"Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley is out King.
Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King
Weasley was born in a bin,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley will make sure we win,
Weasley is our King."
"He didn't enjoy that too much." She finished unnecessarily.
"Did she really have to know about that?"
"Yes she did." Said Hilary smiling.