Hello, all! My, what a crazy year it's been. First off, my Microsoft Word wasn't working for the longest time, which is where I have all my stories saved. But I finally got it fixed and I figured since I've been giving my sister a hard time about not updating for over a year I needed to give my fans something. Needless to say, you might need to review previous chapters to remember what's going on story-wise and hopefully my next update will be quicker in coming than this one. Enjoy. Toodles!
Chapter 6: Picnic in a Tree
A short time later, the director called for quiet on the set and the crew began prepping their equipment for the scene. From what George could gather, Guinevere in this film was far from the damsel in distress so often portrayed in medieval lore. Instead, she was right in the thick of battle beside her king and her secret love, Lancelot. They were filming one such battle scene right then and George sat back to watch the choreographed action.
The scene began and a large group of enemy soldiers began closing in on Guinevere, Arthur, and Lancelot. Hermione whipped out her sword, pointing it at the advancing troop and striking a pose worthy of a warrior queen. When the enemy was close enough to strike, she drew her sword back, preparing to attack.
Crack!
Lancelot staggered back, grabbing his nose. Hermione spun in place, dropping her sword, a look of horror on her face.
"Cut!" the director yelled. "What happened?"
"Oh, my God. I'm so sorry, John!"
"It's all right, Jaya," the man named John reassured her. "I got off my mark. It was my fault." He smiled, though the effort looked a tad painful. "My mum always said I shouldn't stick my nose where it doesn't belong."
Everyone gathered around him laughed and the medic on staff arrived with the first aid kit. After a few seconds of fussing over his nose, she applied a bandage to stem the flow of blood and began cleaning up her kit. "You would have to break your nose in the middle of a shoot, John," she muttered while she cleaned.
"It's broken?" came the chorus of the cast and crew, the director, John, and Hermione being the loudest.
"Afraid so," the medic confirmed. "I wouldn't do any close-ups for awhile, John."
John grimaced and the director swore. "We can't shoot anymore for the time being then. How long will it take to heal?"
"A week at least for the swelling and bruising to go down," replied the medic. "And that's hoping that it heals straight. You might want to go to the hospital to get it restraightened." The last statement was directed at John.
"All right then," the director sighed. "Everyone, the shoot is postponed for now. Call in a week to see if we're back on."
Everyone began cleaning up and leaving, until George and Hermione were some of the only ones left. Hermione sighed and looked at her hands. "I broke his nose, George. I feel awful. I didn't mean to though. I just didn't realize he was that close to me." She sighed again. "And now the film got postponed because of it."
George placed his hand on her arm, causing her to look at him. "It wasn't your fault, Hermione. He said himself that he was off his mark. Don't worry about it." He cracked a smile. "Just think of this as an unscheduled vacation. Besides, now people know not to mess with you when you're in a mood."
"I'm not in a mood!" She bristled immediately before catching the twinkle in his eye. "You're such a jerk, George," she said, her lips threatening a smile.
"Oh, I know. Having six siblings I get told that all the time."
"I suppose it must be true then."
"Must be." He smiled at her again. "Well, since you have this sudden lack of things to do, would you like to do something today?"
"What did you have in mind?"
He grinned sheepishly. "I hadn't really thought that far yet."
She smirked. "I see. Well, let me get out of this costume and we'll figure something out."
Twenty minutes later, she emerged from her dressing room wearing a pair of blue jeans with embroidered flowers running up the legs. Added to the ensemble was a vintage T-shirt with a candy bar logo on it saying "Sometimes you feel like a nut."
George laughed as soon as he saw her shirt. "How true."
"Are you saying I'm a nut?"
He grinned. "If the shoe fits…"
"Takes one to know one, Sparky."
"Touché. So, what would you like to do?" George asked as they began walking to the apparation point.
Her face lit up with an idea. "You're not afraid of heights, are you?"
"I was a beater at school, Hermione. Do you honestly think I would be afraid of heights?"
"So is that a no?"
"That's a no. What do you have in mind?"
She grinned at him. "You'll see."
George idly swung his foot back and forth and picked up his sandwich. They were sitting thirty feet up in a tree having a picnic. "You know, this isn't exactly what I was picturing."
She laughed and looked at the ground so far below. "You mean you've never had a picnic at the top of a tree before?"
George shook his head and tugged the picnic basket toward him from where it was floating beside the branch. "Can't say that I have. Did you charm it?"
"The tree? Yes. Anti-falling charms and disillusionment charms all over it. They are only active when someone who is magic is present though. That way no muggles can find it when I want to be alone. It comes in handy when I'm dodging the muggle reporters."
"I see." George picked up an orange. They had stopped off at a store to stock the picnic basket before coming to the park where they were currently. "I must admit, though, when you asked me the question about heights, I thought you were planning on having us jump out of one of those muggle flying machines."
"You mean skydiving?" She laughed. "I don't think I'm quite that brave. I wouldn't even be up this high if it wasn't for the charms."
"But don't you go higher than this on a broom?"
She shook her head. "I don't ride a broom very often. Flying was never my gift. I apparate whenever I can."
"Maybe you could come flying with me sometime," George said without thinking. When what he had said sunk in, his face turned beet red. "I mean, erm—"
Hermione blinked at him for a few seconds before nodding. "Maybe I will."