Hermione on Holiday
Chapter 3 At the Hanover House
The Hanovers' house was too far away to walk, and there was not a convenient bus connection, so Hermione's Mum drove her over. Hermione reflected that, this year at Hogwarts, they would teach her to Apparate, but even so it was something she wouldn't be allowed to do in the Muggle World. Her Mum seemed pleased with the computer-tutoring idea, not just because of the embarrassment at the dinner, but also because it looked like Hermione wanted to pick up a Muggle skill. Hermione was careful to leave behind all her magical artifacts this time.
George was already waiting at the door of his house when the Granger's car pulled up. "Just ring me up when you're done, Minnie. You won't be staying beyond teatime, will you?"
"I'm not sure, but I will ring you when I'm ready to be picked up, Mum."
She got out of the car and walked to the entrance. "So your name's really Minnie?" asked the boy.
Hermione shrugged. "My parents and their friends call me that, but I prefer Hermione, and that's the name I use at school. Minnie sounds a little babyish. Like Minnie Mouse."
"Or 'mini-' is a prefix for 'little'?"
"Exactly."
"I'll call you Hermione then." They entered his house and walked into a sort of multipurpose room towards a woman who Hermione guessed to be Mrs. Hanover. She was working at a computer and looked up when they entered. "Oh, Mum, this is the girl I told you about, who's interested in learning about computers."
She was wearing jeans, which startled Hermione a little. Outside her own family, she was used to seeing grownups in robes, not showing their legs. "Fine, dear. I won't bother you two. Just remember to keep the door open."
"Door open?" repeated Hermione as they walked through the house.
"Um, the only other outlet is in my bedroom. Please don't get the idea that--"
"I won't." Half-jocularly she added: "If something does happen, I want you to know that I'm well-trained in self-defence."
"Judo?"
"Something like that."
They went in the bedroom. Anxious NOT to look at the bed, Hermione glanced around. There were a couple of photos of players on horseback chasing a ball, and a third with George himself in regalia. Being Muggle photos, they didn't move, but Hermione was used to that. "You play polo?"
"Well, I learned, but one of my mates moved away and we didn't have enough left to make up a team. Do you play?"
"No. I have some friends who play a, um, variation." Except that they sat on broomsticks rather than horses, and played in 3 dimensions. That was twice that Hermione had mentioned a Hogwarts activity in the last few minutes. She had to be careful.
They settled down at the computer. "Do you want to learn about making contact with the Internet, or word processing, or Email, or programming in general?"
"Yes."
"Um, that was supposed to be a choice."
"Oh." Hermione thought quickly. "Start with what everybody would be expected to know, then we can dig deeper."
"All right."
So they got started. It was a lot like learning things at Hogwarts, but with one crucial difference. At Hogwarts the lessons were useless unless you had inborn magical talent. But this computer knowledge could be used by anybody who applied themselves to learning it. George predicted that within about ten years, everybody would be expected to be able to use a mouse, format a letter, search the Internet. Everybody, Hermione reflected, but wizards. It would be another barrier between the wizard and Muggle worlds, and in this case it would be the wizards who would lack the power.
And there was a deeper concern. Why could some people do magic while others could not? Nobody knew. Hermione herself was an extreme case, an effective witch with no witch ancestry at all. Somebody somewhere in the world, probably the States, knew exactly how a computer worked and could design it to MAKE IT WORK for everyone else. But did Hermione or anybody else know what they were tapping into when they chanted Wingardium Leviosa and objects started defying gravity? In the absence of a real explanation, you heard mystic nonsense like the importance of "pure blood", which dominated the Malfoys' lives.
"Hermione, you're a very fast learner," George said as teatime approached. "I'd thought that we would need at least two sessions. Maybe we can start on some programming next week."
"You did the favour I asked. Beyond this point, I ought to pay—"
"I can't take your money, Hermione."
"I feel I owe you something." Suddenly she had a thought. "How would you like somebody to play polo with? Not as a team, but just the two of us on horseback knocking a ball back and forth?"
She was not sure where the idea had come from. She wasn't even that fond of horse riding. But the fact was that Hermione felt a little inferior where sport was concerned. Nearly everybody she knew was a wiz at Quidditch, in a double sense. Harry, the Weasleys, that despicable Malfoy, even Ginny. Hermione's problem was she got afraid of heights. She could repress it in an emergency, such as riding a hippogriff or thestral to rescue Sirius, but she couldn't have fun rushing through the air. But this was just a matter of riding a horse, and she could prove to herself that she WAS good at sport, aside from doing George a favour.
"You said you didn't play."
"But I can ride horses, and you said I'm a fast learner. We can play next week, then you show me the programming the week after."
"Well – OK, I'd love the opportunity to practice." There was a huge smile on his face, which suddenly fell slightly. "But Hermione…"
"Yes?"
"Do you have a boyfriend?" She noticed that he seemed very awkward asking her.
Her defences went up, as she remembered an unpleasant experience the previous summer. "Are you going to come on to me if I say no?"
"No, of course not. It's just that, if you do have one, I don't want him to misunderstand our meeting a lot. We're just friends."
"Oh." Hermione chewed her lip, deciding how much she wanted to reveal. "Well, there was this bloke last summer. But he got rather beastly one day, wanting to take some liberties with me, and I – broke up with him." She had also put a curse on a certain part of his anatomy, but she couldn't say that. It involved witchcraft, and even wizard boys might get uptight if they learned what sort of spell she had cast.
"So I suppose we don't need to worry about him." George looked slightly relieved and Hermione wondered if he had had troubles with that previously.
"And there are two other boys – it's hard to explain. I love them, but it's not romantic. Basically they consider me 'one of the guys'."
"Do you consider them two of the gals?"
Hermione burst out laughing. "Good lord, if Ron heard you say that…!"
"So one of them is named Ron?"
She wanted to smack herself on the forehead.
Merlin, I didn't intend to blurt out names! I need to keep my guard up – even though George seems to be a nice kid, he can't know about wizards.
TO BE CONTINUED