A/N: What if Harry had called Hermione after blowing up his Aunt Marge instead of taking the Knight Bus.
David Granger leaned forward and peered both directions as he slowly drove through Little Whinging…doing his best to stifle his growing annoyance. This hadn't been the plan for the evening. The plan had been to sneak a beer or three and watch Man City throttle United in the Monday evening fixture. But as it was he was listening to City getting throttled by sodding United and driving around looking for a sodding park in sodding Little Whinging.
"There he is!" his excited daughter exclaimed from the back seat. "You have the windows locked!" Hermione said in a near yell as she began pounding on it, attempting to get the boy's attention. At that precise moment he heard the announcer describing the majesty of the latest United score and lamenting that poor City were in for quite a long evening. He really hated Man United.
"Calm down, Hermione!" he declared as he spotted the park and quickly turned onto the adjacent road. It had been years since Hermione's last bout of accidental magic but he could practically feel the surge of something about to happen in the car.
He'd barely put the car in park before his daughter opened the door and shot out in a sprint toward a visibly relieved and scrawny boy. His heart twinged a bit as he watched his daughter wrap the boy in a desperate hug. It felt like years since he'd been a recipient of such a fierce greeting from his daughter.
"That's not normal for friends is it?" he asked as he watched Hermione latch on to the boys hand and pull him toward the car while keeping her body as close to him as possible…her mouth never stopping.
"Not for friends…no," his wife answered with a wistful smile.
"Goal!" he heard in his periphery for the fourth fucking time as he pushed the button to open the boot. He really hated United.
A/N: I feel your pain, David.