Winter [Deathly Hallows spoilers!]

LavenderBrown · Geplaatst: Za Aug 04, 2007 19:20

Deathly Hallows spoilers!

made by Sofie

Dear readers, the following fanfiction is written post-DH, and contains spoilers about the last book. I hereby warn you and you cannot blame me anymore if you read between the spoilertags if you haven't read the last book.
Oh, by the way, the story also contains swear words and I think that if you do not like those or violence (okay there's not much of that in it, just some fighting here and there, nothing too serious), you shouldn't read it.
PS: Later on, the story'll become slightly 15+ so that's another no-no to those who aren't into that xD That's it!

The story is called Winter and, well, enjoy!

SPOILERS!

[selecteer]
Chapter one
Cosy get-together downtown

She tuned on the radio and turned the volume up and down with her wand.
Slightly shivering due to the cold November breeze that even seemed to fill the living room, she pulled her cloak more closely around her and nervously looked at Ron.
He was sitting on the edge of his seat, arms folded on his chest and narrowing his eyes at her, in an attempt to look threatening.
Which he quite did, because he was six foot something and a lot more impressive when he was angry.
‘You’re going to see Malfoy,’ he said for the ten thousandth time that afternoon.
‘Yes, Ron, he called me.’
‘Yeah, over a fellytone! He’s a pureblood, doesn’t that sound slightly suspicious to you?’ he spat at her, trying to emphasize every word.
She sighed, disappointed at Ron because even months after the war had ended, he still did not trust Malfoy.
‘First of all, it’s a telephone –’
‘That’s what I said!’
‘No, you called it a fellytone,’ Hermione pointed out, and their bickering went on for several minutes before they heard Harry call out from somewhere upstairs that the both of them had to shut up, before he would be mending skulls.
‘I don’t put much trust in his healing spells, so if you’d crack open my skull, you’d better be the one to heal it, too!’ Ron said.
Hermione only looked at him. She wasn’t really planning on putting anything through Ron’s skull, though thinking it over again, the idea sounded quite attractive when he looked at her like that.
‘Look, Ron, Draco’s be –’
‘Draco?’ Ron said in a revolted tone, sounding like the time Hermione had called Viktor Krum by his first name. ‘Can’t you just ask him out?’
‘Hey, I just might, if you don’t stop interrupting me!’
He shot her a dark, dark look.

‘So I was saying, Draco’s been hiding in a Muggle place, since there are still Death Eaters on the loose and because they’ve stayed out of the Ministry’s and the Order’s hands for so long, there is a possibility that they’d come for people like Draco; disobeying ex-Death Eaters who hadn’t been loyal to the Dark Lord.’
Ron grunted in disbelief. He still thought Malfoy was a foul, ass-kissing git who was just pretending to be on the good side.
‘And whether you like him or not, I will visit Malfoy today. To sort things out. He said he wanted to see me, rather than you and Harry because you two are obviously not capable of thinking rationally when he starts making, er, comments. He wants to explain.’
‘Yeah, he’s called you a Mudblood over a thousand times and you’re still going to have a nice cup of tea and a cosy get-together with him?’
‘Yes, I am! And then I’ll be back at the Burrow, and we’ll have our own cosy get-together later, okay?’
She waggled her eyebrows at him, but her brows froze halfway through their seductive movement when Harry yelled: ‘I heard that!’
Ginny’s sharp voice came right after him: ‘Yeah, me too, and I suddenly feel nauseous!’
‘Oh, why don’t we have a cosy get-together and get that nasty feeling out of you?’ they heard Harry say in a low voice, and Ginny giggled in a shockingly good impersonation of Hermione at the few times she’d giggle.
‘ALL RIGHT, WE GET IT!’ Ron shouted upstairs, his ears red.
Hermione stood up and gave him a quick kiss on his forehead, which immediately turned a cute shade of scarlet after her lips left his skin, and she smiled at him in adoration.

Ron nodded his head in a weird way, and Hermione took that as a permission to go and see Malfoy, but he still wasn’t really into her little trip when he yelled after her:
‘Oh, and be sure to bring him flowers! Golly, he’d love that.’
She paid no further attention to her boyfriend, whom she now heard running upstairs to complain at Ginny and Harry, who were most likely snogging in Ginny’s bedroom, and walked through the kitchen, where George was sitting, alone, surrounded by papers.
‘Hey,’ he said in a hoarse voice, and she pitied him when she heard the pain in it, and when she saw the dark circles under his eyes.
She brushed her hand over his hair, hastily, a little frightened whether or not to something that intimate, but he appreciated the gesture and gave her a little smile.
‘Do you think I should start producing Belly Button Bubble Gum?’ he asked her, though he didn’t sound like he really wanted her opinion on that.
‘Erm, what does it mean?’ she asked uncomfortably.
‘That your belly button explodes as soon as you put the gum into your mouth.’
There was an awkward silence.
‘Worst idea in years, huh?’
‘Yes, but, that’s all –’
‘No, Hermione, it’s not all right. Fred would kill me if he knew I was out of ideas the second he –’
‘It’s all right,’ she repeated, swallowing at hearing Fred’s name, and she turned towards the door.

‘Oh, yes, Malfoy…’ George mumbled. ‘Make sure you kick his ass from me.’
Hermione looked at him in utter compassion. It was weird not hearing him say ‘from us’. His other half had gone and the both of them were painfully aware of it.
Mrs and mr Weasley were trying really hard to maintain their normal lives, as if there hadn’t been a death in their family. As if they haven’t suffered from the war that had passed.
Mrs Weasley ran through the kitchen with familiar dark circles under her eyes, chasing a garden gnome that had found his way into the house.
‘Oh, hello Hermione,’ she said, and Hermione smiled at her before leaving the house and turning on the spot.
After feeling the gut-wrenching, breathtaking and most unpleasant sensation of Disapparating, she landed on Tommers Road in downtown London.
One man, most likely a Muggle, looked at her in confusion, but probably shoved her sudden apparition out of nowhere away into the ‘mindfuck’ department of his brain.
He looked like he’d seen weirder things in his life, judging at the little bag filled with white powder in his hand.
Muggles these days, though, were not as surprised at this sort of wizard behaviour as they had used to be. Wizards had, in their awareness of Voldemort having died for good now, lost all sense of rationality and partied their weeks away, either in the Muggle or wizarding world, until about a month after Voldemort and Harry’s legendary last confrontation. The Ministry, not fully recovered from the horror that Voldemort and his Death Eaters had put them through yet, but already on the mend, had made some new rules.

Any wizard acting out of the ordinary in front of a Muggle would be exposed to punishment, but still, a minority of wizards and witches, did not really care.
Hermione did, but this time, she was in a hurry.
Her conversations with Ron and George had delayed her arrival at Draco’s new place, and she was really curious to what he had to say.
Even she had noticed that she tried to make a habit out of calling him by his first name, but something in Malfoy sounded so loathing and reminding of Lucius Malfoy, and therefore indirectly pointing at Death Eaters, that she’d rather not think of that name.
It was chilly outside and she watched her visible breath in the cold air.
She walked through rather abandoned alleyways with coughing and snorting junks lying here and there, using carton boxes as their blankets.
She gave them weak smiles but no money, knowing they’d only throw it away on drugs, and she was quite relieved when she saw the house Draco had described to her over the phone. A little suspicious after the speeches Ron had given her earlier that day, however, she held her wand steady before pushing the doorbell that made a sharp, ringing sound.
The front of the house had once been painted black, but the weather had been peeling it off the dark wood that it covered. It had one window, covered in filth and Hermione was not able to see through it, though she reckoned she saw a flash of white behind it, the same flash of white that appeared behind the door in a moment.

‘Who is there?’ said Draco Malfoy’s voice softly.
‘Hermione Granger,’ she answered quietly, and he opened the door a little bit, before asking: ‘What was the name of the hippogriff that beat me in that oaf’s class in our third year?’
‘The teacher’s name would be Hagrid and the hippogriff was named Buckbeak,’ she answered a little curtly after him insulting Hagrid.
He opened the door completely now and she looked at him with the same pity that had flooded her when she’d looked at George a couple of minutes earlier.
His hair was messed up, his left cheek was marked by a bright red wound and he could’ve easily blended in with the Weasleys if you looked at the circles under his eyes. He seemed to have lost a lot of weight and she felt the urge to hug him, immediately followed by the urge to strangle herself when having thoughts like that.
He remained, after all, Draco Malfoy and he despised her.
‘Hi,’ he said, his greeting accompanied by despair.
He moved out of the way to let her in and she looked around the small hallway curiously. Not much to be seen there, though, there was only a door that probably led to a toilet given the fact that it had a ‘Pee for free!’ sign on it.
He saw her eyes wander towards it and coughed uncomfortably.
‘Not my humour, another wizard stayed here before me and his lack of humour is doomed to remain here forever, ‘cause it has a Permanent Sticking Charm on it,’ he said blankly.
Hermione gave him a brief look and cleared her throat.

‘Right,’ she answered, realizing that he probably would be anywhere rather than here, and she followed him into his small living room.
There was only one couch and a small coffee table, and a clock that made loud ticking sounds at every passing second, and she was painfully aware of the silence that hung between them.
‘So, er, why did you –’ she started, but just like all the other men in her life were used to, he interrupted her in the middle of her sentence by asking her if she wanted something to drink.
‘Erm, okay, yeah I guess I fancy a coffee,’ she said and clasped her two cold hands together.
‘You know,’ she said after he’d nodded and disappeared into a room that would most likely be the kitchen, ‘you do have some good protection around this place, I nearly froze to death only getting here.’
Unfortunately, she’d never had the talent of joking at the right times like Ron had, or the ability of saying the right things at the right time like Ginny, so she just shut up when she heard no laughter coming from the kitchen.
She stared at a small radio in the corner that looked like the one in the Burrow and wondered if he listened to the daily reports of the dead bodies of both Death Eaters and, well, good siders that were found everywhere.
The war hadn’t really ended; the few Death Eaters that had survived were still busy killing off people, though they didn’t get really far. They’d scarcely manage to kill two people a week, but that was still two lost lives a week, and the mood was grim whenever they’d listen to the numb voices calling out the names.
Draco returned with two cups of coffee and sat down next to her, because he had no chair to sit on.
‘So…’ he said and made a funny noise that she couldn’t explain until his eyed started watering. ‘Didn’t think you’d be the first human I’d see in weeks beside some junks, Granger.’
‘I’d love to return the compliment,’ she said coolly, noticing he still was not planning on calling her by her first name, and added: ‘Malfoy. But I can’t, unfortunately.’
She thought of Ron and asked: ‘Why did you call me? And how do you know how to use a telephone?’
He shrugged. ‘Does it look like there’s much to do around here? You’ll want to play with the phone after two days of being locked in here. I guess I didn’t know who else to trust, and I… just wanted to see you.’
She gave him a quizzical look.
‘I mean… rather than your silly little friends. I need your help.’

She took a sip from her coffee and spit it back the moment she tasted the bitter substance. That was just nasty.
‘Where’d you buy that? That’s gross, Malfoy! Thought you were getting used to doing Muggle stuff!’
‘I er… Transfigurated it.’
‘Where’d you Transfigurate it from? A rat’s head? Damn, don’t ever do that again. Next time, just ask me.’
He gave her a half-irritated, half-shocked look because of her tiny outburst, (if Harry and Ron were present, they’d probably tell him she could be much, much worse. Hell, she had punched him once, he knew she could be much, much worse.) and she smiled.
‘So, what do you need my help for?’ she asked after a rather uncomfortable silence and moved as far away from him as possible on the small couch, and pressed her back against the side.
He looked slightly taken aback at this movement and muttered something like:
‘I shouldn’t have called you. I’m sorry.’
She gave him a hard stare, then stood up and pointed her finger at his chest.
‘Listen, and listen carefully! I have been arguing with Ron – Draco’s nose gave a funny twitch which made her even angrier – all day, about whether or not I should visit you, and against his judgement, I did, and you’d BETTER explain to me why you gave me that desperate phone call out of NOWHERE, and you’d better explain it NOW!’
He blinked and he gazed at her index finger still pointing at his chest, as if Hermione was aiming her wand at his heart and was about to Avada Kedavra his ass.
‘Now,’ she said, returning to her position in the couch and giving him a swift smile, ‘what exactly do you need my help for?’
[/selecteer]

LavenderBrown · Geplaatst: Ma Aug 06, 2007 20:03

*giggle* Thanks Sofie, Ellen & Suus, so here's chapter two (:
Rather small chapter...

SPOILERS!

[selecteer]
Chapter two
An unexpected alliance

‘He suggested to work together? Together?’ Ron asked, and Hermione memorized their conversation earlier that day and sighed.
‘Yes, Ron, together.’
She suddenly felt really tired, and gave Harry her Stare of Death when he ran into the living room looking hopeful.
‘And are we joining in, too, then?’ Harry asked, from which Hermione could conclude that he’d been eavesdropping shamelessly.
‘Erm, no, he didn’t really… say anything about you guys.’
‘YEAH, BECAUSE ALL HE WANTS IS YOU! HE’S INTO YOU, AND WITH THE WAR OVER AND SUCH, HE’S JUST LOOKING FOR A GOOD SNOG!’ Ron burst.
There was a short silence, and Harry and Hermione loved Molly Weasley for being alive when she announced that diner was ready.
‘Do you hear that, Harry?’ Hermione squealed. ‘Dinner! Food!’
Diversion!

They were stuck between the doorposts for several seconds, before both squeezing through and diving onto the empty chairs.
‘Bill and Fleur should be here any second,’ Molly muttered, checking Bill’s needle on her most beloved clock.
His status changed, saying he was travelling, and Molly sighed relieved, before pouring hot tomato soup into the empty bowls.

Moments later, Bill, long, red-haired and red-faced, came strutting through the back door and he smiled at them. Fleur came in after him, elegant and with suffocating beauty, as usual. Harry smiled at Fleur and Ginny glared at Harry.
Harry looked apologetically at Ginny and Ginny threw her soup at Harry.
Harry burned himself and gave an incredibly girlish shriek, was mended by a furious Mrs Weasley and Ginny was sent upstairs.
‘Now we can go to dinner,’ Molly said calmly when an outraged Ginny marched out of the kitchen.
Hermione couldn’t resist the temptation to giggle, and so she did. Her laughter was accompanied by some snorts from Ron, but the rest of the table didn’t seem to enjoy their amusement, so they stopped, trying to look terribly sorry.
The family ate the rest of their soup in silence, well, that is, everyone except for Fleur, who played with her earrings after declaring that she ‘ ‘ad ‘ad enough soup, ‘cause iet waz terribly ‘ot and full of calories’ ‘.
Molly threw her a terrifying look after that comment on her cooking, but Fleur didn’t notice and started talking about Gringotts.
‘And ze goblins are so cute zoo me! Zey are, of course, really ugly, but after working, practically living in those gross vaults every day, I can imagine myself getting dirty, too. And zey hang out with zem ugliest creatures! Oh ‘Arry, you should see zem!’ she laughed, still avoiding Molly’s dark glances.
It wasn’t until her spoon snapped in her hand that she looked at her mother-in-law.
‘You should buy new spoons, Molly, zey are really fragile!’

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other in terror when Molly rose from her seat, and got out of their chairs very smoothly, before running upstairs.
Harry went off to make up (and most likely make out) with Ginny, and Ron dragged Hermione upstairs.
‘What’s your hurry?’ she asked, but he smiled and covered her eyes with his hands.
‘Okay, what’s going on?’
She wasn’t really fond of surprises, so she stared rather gloomily into his room (after stumbling very unhappily over the doorstep) when he gave her back her eyesight.
He’d dressed up his ghoul (again! The poor thing) in a cute, pink dress that might’ve belonged to Ginny once, but was now covered in slime, and the ghoul was holding up a sign saying: “I love you, Hermione Granger! Will you…”
Hermione gasped and looked at Ron, but he was busy diving at his ghoul and moving its slimy hands from the rest of the sign.
She stared at the words, but was hugely relieved when it said:
“… be my date to the Potterfest?”
The Potterfest was a huge dance, organized by Hagrid, Luna Lovegood and Dean Thomas, that would be held two days later.
It was quite obvious that Hermione and Ron would be going together, but it was sweet he asked her via his tame, smelly monster.

‘That’s so sweet, Ron,’ she said softly, and she smiled up at his face, now fully scarlet.
‘That tone of surprise again,’ he answered in the same tone and she wrapped her arms around his neck and gently kissed him on the mouth.
How clumsily he could look sometimes, he was a real good kisser and she was lost in the moment for a few seconds. Then Ron broke apart, wrinkling his nose.
‘I… I’d better get him out of here, or we won’t be able to sleep this night,’ Ron muttered, and he slapped the ghoul on the butt in order to get him to move.
‘You really like that, don’t you?’ she asked, smiling in a tongue-in-cheek way.
‘I do!’
‘Don’t ever try it on me.’
He smirked and edged the ghoul out of the room, while Hermione sat down on his bed. A few seconds later, there was a small ‘pop’ and Harry fell on top of her lap.
‘Sorry about that,’ he said, and as he rolled off of her, Ginny, who had turned seventeen a couple of weeks ago, Apparated on her head.
‘Wow, great aim, you guys, you’re made for each other,’ she said to Ginny’s buttocks, but the message didn’t come through as sarcastically as it was meant to sound, ‘cause the sound was a little muffled by Ginny’s behind covering her mouth.
Ginny giggled and Harry pulled her on top of him.
‘So what are you wearing to Potterfest?’ Ginny asked, lying horizontally over Harry’s lap and closing her eyes slightly as he stroked her hair.
Ron, who had just came in, probably felt like a bad lover, and immediately dove onto his bed to do the same thing to Hermione. She smiled.

‘Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to come with me to Diagon Alley, they opened a new store there and I heard they sell really pretty dresses. You haven’t got anything yet, either, have you?’ she asked, leaning to Ron’s shoulder.
A sudden thought came to her. This probably would’ve made Draco nauseous.
She moved away from Ron a little.
Who cares about Malfoy, anyway?
And leaned back towards him.
‘No, except my old dress robes, but they’re not fancy enough for Pot –’
‘I really hate that name,’ Harry said grumpily. He’d written a dozen letters to both Hagrid and Luna coming up with other names, and after they’d sent polite notes back saying he could stick his suggestions up his arse (he suspected Dean had written those letters, maybe after consult with Grawp), he realized they would not let him change anything. That lack of authority pissed him off a little, but he was of course still curious for a dance entirely devoted to him.
‘And you can wear whatever you want, Gin, you look beautiful to me even when you wear your dad’s Muggle travelling cloak. Especially when there’s nothing un –’
‘CAN YOU STOP IT ALREADY?’ Ron barked, ears red.
He still didn’t fully support the idea of his sister and Harry doing dirty deeds, and Hermione could see why.

‘So, we go tomorrow, I suppose?’ Ginny asked, and Hermione nodded.
‘We’ll go with you!’ Harry said enthusiastically.
‘No, you’ll just look at other girls’ curves and throw curse words at the shop owners. As usual,’ Ginny accused her boyfriend, and both Harry and Ron started looking around the world in a funny way that amused both of the girls.
‘You can make it up by fetching us something to drink and some chocolate,’ Ginny demanded, and they both Apparated, wearing cheesy smiles that were obviously fake.
‘Good one, too lazy to get downstairs, too?’ Hermione asked and they stretched themselves on Ron’s bed.
‘Hell yes,’ Ginny grinned, but her smile faded swiftly as Harry tripped over Ron’s carpet when he reappeared, spilling Butterbeer all over her clothes.
‘YOU WERE PLOTTING THAT!’ Ginny screamed, and Ron’s badly hidden smirk betrayed them.
Hermione let her wand suck the liquor out of Ginny’s robes and splashed it over Ron.
‘What did I do?’ he shrieked, before hastily cleaning himself up.
‘I dressed my ghoul for you!’
‘You really went through with that?’ Harry sniggered, before seating himself back next to Ginny, who seemed to have forgiven him and Ron pulled a chair from behind his desk. Hermione stared at him angrily.
‘So what’s up with this Malfoy stuff? What did he propose? Did he look… bad?’ Ginny asked, eager for answers, and Hermione wrapped her arms around her knees. This could take a while.
She started explaining what Malfoy had asked of her. He said he could help her track the remaining Death Eaters, something the Ministry, despite all its powers, did not entirely succeed in, but he wanted only her help, for he still didn’t like Harry and Ron.
‘How about me? I’m a girl and I can fight and I never did him much harm!’
Ginny pulled an angelic face, trying to cover her lies; she’d tried to curse Malfoy about a million times and her efforts had paid off several times, too. Malfoy held a strong grudge against her.
‘I just don’t like the idea of you going off with Malfoy alone, you know. For all we know, he might be conspiring with the Death Eaters in order to pay off his parents’ debts or something.’

‘He’s hiding from the Death Eaters!’ Hermione shot at her, not willing to believe that Draco Malfoy might still be the evil git he used to be.
‘It could be a trap,’ Harry said, obviously screwing up his brains trying to place Malfoy in the ‘good’ or ‘bad’ section of his brain. ‘But I don’t really think so, you know. He didn’t sell us out last year, when we were in his house and you messed up my face. He obviously knew it was us. And his mother saved my life, in the Forest with Voldemort. I think the Malfoys want nothing more than to be a family, and Malfoy is really trying to get all the poison out of his life.
And as an honest, powerful witch, you could help him with that. Malfoy, Ron and I would just have rows all the time… Maybe you should go for it.’
Hermione gave him an appreciating nod. Harry was always there for her.
‘Ron?’ she asked nervously.
‘As long as he doesn’t touch you. Tell him he shouldn’t be praising his testicles too much if he does try anything, for he won’t have them much longer after that!’ he said with an evil look on his face.
‘I’ll have jinxed his limbs off in no time if he dares to touch me, but I don’t think he’ll try anything, I’m a Mudblood,’ Hermione said. ‘He just wants to use me for getting rid of the Death Eaters, and we’ll be worlds apart again.’
Ron seemed convinced.
‘I hope you will. Malfoy will always be… well… Malfoy.’
‘Sure. Now, Ginny, Harry, aren’t you two feeling very sleepy?’
Ginny faked a yawn.
‘Oh, now that you mention it! Well I guess we better should go to bed if we have shopping in front of us. I’ll just go say mum goodbye.’
She popped out of the room to return about a minute later and giving Harry a good night kiss as well, not planning on caring about Ron, who deliberately tried to stare them apart.
Molly wouldn’t allow the two couples to share rooms until they would be living in another house, so Hermione gave Ron a simple kiss on his cheek and said Harry good night, before following Ginny to her room.
‘Ron’s so sweet,’ she told his sister.
‘Oh, I could tell you things about him that would –’
‘Ginny, don’t! I know you’ll be able to mess up my mind completely, but I don’t care if he’s peed in be when he was little or something.’
‘… He did once puke over Pig,’ Ginny said mischievously.
‘Ew, Pig’s only a few years old! When did that happen?’
They disappeared into the bedroom to gossip a little more, before Ginny fell asleep in the middle of a monologue about Harry’s snogging talent.
Hermione looked at her sleeping friend for a while, before laying her head down on her own pillow as well. Discussions with Ron, Malfoy, Ron again and later on Ginny had worn her out.
Her wand killed the lights and her eyes were barely closed when she was already sleeping vastly.

[/selecteer]

LavenderBrown · Geplaatst: Ma Aug 13, 2007 12:47

Wieee, so here's the third chapter =D Thanks, Tamar&Avana!

SPOILERS!

[selecteer]
Chapter three
No, the other Potter!

‘Mione, wake up! Mum’s made breakfast,’ Ginny roared into her ear after what felt like five minutes of sleep.
‘Whatime izzit?’ she asked sleepily and yawned. ‘Ow come itz light already?’
‘It’s ten pm, you twat, get up!’
Ginny threw her hairbrush onto her bed, jumped over Hermione and ran out of the room, her long, red hair dancing behind her.
‘Hey Harry!’
Hermione heard the sound of kissing and a soft groan from what would be Ron’s mouth.
‘And hey brother, I’d best not check up on Hermione yet, she looks awful!’ she said brightly, and Hermione covered her face with her pillow.
Lazily, she dressed into a comfortable sweater and jeans, and Disapparated into the kitchen.
‘Good morning, Mrs Weasley, good morning, George, Percy,’ she greeted Mrs Weasley, busy chasing a wild pan, and her two sons already attacking her food.
They mumbled a half-heartedly ‘good morning’ and she sat down next to Percy, who’d taken the morning off his new work at a book store at Diagon Alley.
He’d realized his passion was not to be Minister for Magic anymore, seeing that they just died or retired eventually, and half the wizarding community would only hate him.
Hermione was really happy he’d finally found some common sense, and although George still didn’t like his brother, he’d accepted his return back into the family.
As for Mrs Weasley, she hugged Percy as much as she could and tried to make his short stays at the Burrow as pleasant as possible.
‘Oh, Percy, do you like your eggs? Should I make more? Oh boy, you’re too thin!’
‘Mine are great, mum!’ George said, but she didn’t really pay attention to him.
‘So are you going to work today?’ Hermione asked George, and he nodded.
‘What else is there to do for me? I can’t let the shop assistants run the store forever. It’s called Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, so there must be some Weasley spirit in there, huh?’
‘True. We’ll drop by later today to show off our dresses for the Potterfest, okay?’
George put his finger in the hole in his head (he usually did that when he was thinking, it grossed the entire family out).
‘The Potterfest, that’s right… Hey, would you mind buying me some new dress robes?’
He fumbled in his pockets and pulled a little bag, undoubtedly filled with gold, out of it.
‘Just something simple. Have to look good at the Fest, though, haven’t I? Being one of the Potter maniacs that helped slay the Death Eaters…’
His thoughts visibly wandered off to Fred, and Hermione bit her lip, but was soon distracted by Ron, Ginny and Harry entering the cosy kitchen with a loud discussion about Veela’s.
‘Tell me about it,’ Harry grinned. ‘They’re magic!’
‘Yeah, especially when they turn into blood thirsty bird-creatures and try to attack you, Veela’s rock!’ Ginny said coldly and dropped into her seat next to Hermione.
‘So what are you guys up for today – hi Percy -?’ she asked Harry and Ron.
‘Oh, we’re just gonna play some Quidditch,’ Harry said.
‘Yeah,’ said Ron, filling his plate with his mother’s beloved scrambled eggs. He was so much happier when he could eat. ‘Harry’s gonna teach me some cool Seeker tricks.’
‘You’re planning a Seeker career?’ Ginny frowned.
‘No, but… it’s just cool. You know,’ Ron answered offended. ‘And we’re probably gonna head for the village, too. Ottery St. Catchpole is the place to be!’
‘Sure thing,’ said Ginny, eating fast and finishing soon.
She didn’t like to be around her mum after Fred’s death. She’d become very overprotective and liked to keep Ginny real close to her.
‘Oh, Ginny darling, will you look after yourself? Shouldn’t George go with you?’
‘No, mum,’ Ginny said loudly. ‘We’ll be fine. Really.’
She stormed upstairs, shortly followed by Harry, and Hermione gave Molly an apologetic look.
‘She’ll get over herself,’ she assured her, before running after Harry and Ginny.

‘She’s infuriating!’ the latter said some twenty minutes later, when they walked into the Leaky Cauldron, where Tom, the old bartender, gave them a toothless smile and waved at them.
‘We’ll drop by later, Tom!’ Ginny promised him. She’d always pitied the old man, though his bar was now filled with wizards and witches from all over the country again. Two foreign wizards were sitting at the bar, giving them suggestive looks, but Ginny touched her wand as if tempted to stick it up their nose, and they turned back to their Firewhisky.
‘You still have to teach me that deadly stare, Gin,’ Hermione laughed and arm in arm, they walked up to the brick wall that formed the gate to Diagon Alley.
Hermione tapped the right stone and they waited patiently until there was enough space to fit through.
‘So, what was that new store called?’ Ginny asked curiously.
‘No idea, I’m not even sure there is one. I just thought I read something about it in the Prophet’s advertising space, but I was distracted by one of Rita Skeeter’s articles about Harry’s supposed affaire with the captain of the Holyhead Harpies,’ Hermione said, her cheeks flushing bright red of pure anger. ‘Merlin, how I’d like to lock her up again. This time without fresh oxygen. But the new shop thing was just to keep the boys from going with us. You know how they hate a lot of excited witches in a small place who will kill for clothes…’
‘They do, however, like the idea of a lot of excited witches in a small place, preferably with them in their midst. They talk about pretty women in Ron’s magazines every time they manage to get away from us.’
‘But they’ll always get back to us in the end,’ Hermione grinned, ‘for they’re not able to ever get one of those girls in magazines.’
Ginny snorted. ‘Well, I strongly doubt that. Harry rips his fan letters apart as soon as he gets them, but somehow they always end up under his bed, all of them whole again. It’s actually pretty funny, reading how desperate those witches are, and all trying to get the Boy Who Lived into their bed.’
‘Oh, but Harry wouldn’t sleep with anyone until he’s like, twenty-five!’
A weird smile spread across Ginny’s face and Hermione’s mouth formed a perfect ‘O’.

‘Ginny! You didn’t…?’
‘Nah, only verappeltaarte with your mind,’ she giggled, and they stopped dead when they saw a, well, ginormous building in front of them.
‘That wasn’t there before,’ Ginny said weakly. It was about as hard to miss as Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, for the fabulous coloured clothing that was displayed in the window and the long, long line of enthusiastically pointing and shrieking women standing in front of it.
‘That’s… big,’ Hermione commented after gaping at it for a while.
‘This is shopping heaven.’
The shop, called Potter’s Fashion Plaza (‘Uh-oh,’ said Ginny, ‘Harry’s not going to like this.’), looked very inviting in their eyes and they hurried inside, amongst a huge crowd of witches, pushing them aside in order to get in first.
‘Well that was rude,’ said Ginny, who elbowed herself through the over-excited women.
‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ Hermione bellowed at a plump witch that had just stood on her foot, and she grabbed her wand and cast a little jinx on her that made her nose-hair grow fast. While the witch clutched her nose and ran out of the queue trying to block the other witches’ view on her face, Ginny and Hermione finally managed to get inside.
‘Wow…’ was the first thing they said, when they were able to speak.
Despite the fact that witches were running through the store trying to snatch as much clothes off the racks with shiny, expensive clothing as they possibly could, their shopping dreams had just been fulfilled.

Both possessing enough gold to purchase half the store (Hermione had almost been beaten to death to get a couple of interviews out of her, and, finally, she’d given them, receiving a lot of money. Also, Harry had given both her, Ron and the entire Weasley family half his fortune, for all the damage and pain he’d caused over the previous years. Actually, he’d sort of forced them to take it, and when they still refused, he just had it transferred to their Gringotts vaults, and after they’d had it sent back, the battle only stopped when the goblins refused to do their bidding any more, and Harry had won the battle.), they started looking for cute robes and tops and skirts as soon as they’d found some empty racks, completely forgetting their quest of buying new dresses.
It wasn’t until someone yelled: ‘Hey, isn’t that Potter’s friend Hermione Granger and his girlfriend Ginny Weasley?’ loud enough for the whole store to hear, and almost all the heads turned to gaze at them (giving others the opportunity to steal clothes out of the momentarily unfocused witches’ hands), that a tiny woman hurried towards them.

‘Miss Granger, miss Weasley! Or should I say Mrs Potter? Rita Skeeter wrote an interesting article about your secret wedding, congratulations!’
She calmly blew a witch that threw herself at Ginny and tried to pull out her hair away with her wand, and smiled at Ginny.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘that was very inconvenient.’
‘Harry and I are not married,’ Ginny said through gritted teeth.
‘Yet…’ whispered the woman in a confidential tone, and she winked at the pair of them.
Hermione gave her a cold look and looked at the lady’s name tag that said ‘Nita Parkinson’. No wonder the woman was trying to make Ginny’s life hell.
However, she was forced to say: ‘Miss Weasley, miss Granger, you have been invited to our VIP room, where we have the most exclusive clothes for you and – you didn’t weigh two hundred pounds when you came in, Mrs Donaughan! Excuse me, ladies, my colleague Lena – LENA! – will escort you to the VIP collection.’
‘I like the sound of that,’ Ginny said to Hermione, before a young witch with bright orange hair came rushing up to them and smiled broadly.
‘Welcome to Potter’s Fashion Plaza!’ she welcomed them, as if they’d just stepped in.
‘Yeah, about that name –‘ Ginny started, but Lena interrupted her smoothly.
‘I bet you two are dying to see what we have got in store for you…’
She grabbed one arm of both of them with a surprisingly firm grip, and only loosened up a little when Hermione gave a little squeal of pain.

‘So when did you open this place?’ she asked Lena, who marched them through the shop, giving staring witches a hard time by smiling at them with her blindingly white teeth.
‘Oh, just today, that’s why there’s such an uproar at the door. But hey, who wouldn’t want to wear Potter’s handmade collection of exclusive, stunningly beautiful clothes!’
‘Oh, if only Harry had such a taste of fashion,’ Ginny sighed.
‘Harry? Oh, this has nothing to do with Harry Potter!’ Lena said, laughing an annoyingly fake laugh, ‘it’s the newest collection of the known fashion designer Aurelia Potter, my grandmother and not in the slightest way related to Harry Potter!’
‘Yeah, I bet she had that name when she was born,’ Ginny murmured, when she got out of Lena’s sight for a good second, when she rushed through a door, gesturing that they should follow her.
Another ‘wow’ left their lips when they saw the big room they had just entered.
There were two people in the room, youngsters like Lena, smiling at them and dressed in dresses so tight Hermione didn’t wonder why their faces were bright scarlet.

‘Welcome to Potter’s Fashion Plaza!’ they said their well-formulated hello’s, and one of them snatched Ginny away from Hermione; the other took care of her.
‘Tell me what you are looking for!’ the witch with ‘Selina’ on her pink nametag said to her. Her face was hollow and her eyes were grey and looked slightly dead.
Hermione didn’t think she loved her job, perhaps due to the fact that their workplace was flooded by either stealing or fighting women.
‘Erm, I was wondering if you had any dresses. Or dress robes, but I don’t want them to be too formal. It’s for the Potterfest, you know.’
‘You’re invited to the Potterfest?’ the witch named Selina gasped.
‘Oh my… Merlin’s beard, do you think you could hook me up with tickets? I’ve been trying to get them for ages, but they all say you can only enter when you’re invited! Are you allowed to bring guests with you?’
‘Yeah, you are,’ Hermione said, hopping from one foot to the other, ‘but erm – I erm, already have a guest, I’m sorry.’
‘Oh,’ Selina answered coolly, as if it was Hermione’s fault she wouldn’t bring a total stranger to a dance. ‘Well, then I think I should better show you our best dressing gowns. You know, ‘cause you will need one.’
‘Ehm… Yeah, that’s sort of… why I came here in the first place,’ Hermione said uncomfortably, and she sat down on an armchair Selina conjured for her.
‘SURE!’ she said and she walked out of the room. Hermione threw a quick glance at Ginny, who was violently being squeezed into a bright yellow dress that coloured horribly with the rest of her.

‘WELL, THAT DOESN’T LOOK TOO WELL, HUH?’ said the witch helping her, who was incredibly ugly, she looked somewhat like Umbridge. She stared with unmistakable jealousy at Ginny’s long hair, and Ginny took a deep breath.
‘Erm, how about we take this monster off and find something… I don’t know, nice and green or gold, or something?’ she proposed, and her witch looked as angry as Selina.
‘We’ve got to get out of here!’ Hermione mouthed, who expected to be chained to the chair any second now.
‘I know!’ Ginny mouthed back, now sitting in an armchair similar to Hermione’s, but there was no time to run; Selina and her colleague came marching back at them, both holding up a beautiful dress.
‘Oh, that’s so pretty!’ Hermione exclaimed, looking at the snowy white dress robes Selina was holding.
‘Oh, so glad you like it,’ Selina sneered, ‘I hope your hips will fit in it!’

Hermione gulped and felt ready to jinx the brat, but just hoped the I’m-going-to-Potterfest-and-you’ll-be-stuck-in-your-living-room-all-alone message would reach Selina by giving her an excruciatingly happy smile.
‘Yeah, me too! I can’t wait to try it on!’
Unhappily, Selina helped her into the dress, that was simply breathtaking (literally, it was feeling corset-like), wide below the waist and extremely low-cut at the back, but Hermione was willing to take this dress merely of the dreamy expression Selina had when looking at the dress, she could always fix it later.
‘Oh Mione, that’s beautiful!’ Ginny said in a happy voice. Her witch was running out of the room again; Ginny had probably had complaints about the short, blue dress she’d been offered.
‘You think so?’ Hermione asked, looking at herself in a huge mirror.
‘You know it is,’ Selina groaned.
‘Oh, that’s right, I do! Oh, I’ll take it, if you want me to wear it that much. You can gift-wrap it, I like that.’
Hermione had seen another salesgirl wrapping a sweater in fancy paper, sliding it into a box, wrapping that box again and putting it into a pretty little bag.
‘Sure,’ Selina said, probably feeling like using Unforgivable Curses on Hermione and her dress, but she merely put a bit of effort into trying to rip the dress apart as she opened it for Hermione.
‘Be careful there!’ Hermione told her, ‘the designer would probably have you pay for that if you tore it apart!’
She got no answer.

‘Oh, Ginny, that’s beautiful!’ Hermione gasped when Ginny had got into a golden dress, like she’d asked for. It was shorter than Hermione’s, edgier, making Ginny look really pretty.
‘You should go for it,’ she continued when Ginny looked into the mirror with slight uncertainty.
‘I should, shouldn’t I? Well, okay. Oh, gift-wrap mine too, if you please!’ she told Selina who was just about to leave the room, seeming to find her as annoying as Hermione did.
At last, they strolled out of the store, both with a nicely wrapped box (Selina didn’t get the chance to mess it up when the shop manager stopped by to greet them) in a nice bag.
‘I hate shopping,’ Hermione declared as she shoved her arm through Ginny’s.
‘Me too. Let’s get a drink.’
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LavenderBrown · Geplaatst: Wo Aug 22, 2007 19:08

Yay, chapter four =D

SPOILERS!

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Chapter four
Potterfest

‘I think she might have cast a Shrinking Spell on it,’ Ginny mumbled, her dress stuck halfway through its way down, and she squealed: ‘Hermione! Help!’
Hermione, already in her own white dress, hurried over to Ginny who was having trouble breathing, and pulled the dress down.
‘There! Stupid jealous counter girls,’ she complained.
‘Ginny, we’ve got to GO!’ Harry shouted from downstairs. ‘We’re supposed to arrive early!’
Harry and Ginny would be the first ones to dance (not something Harry looked forward to), and open the dance for everyone else. Ron had been bugging Harry about it for a couple of weeks.
‘I’m not ready!’ Ginny hissed at Hermione, who quickly came to her aid by brushing her hair.
‘It’s nice like this, you look pretty. Now go, he’s obviously bleeding nervous for tonight,’ said Hermione, who thought she sounded like Mundungus Fletcher.
When she’d given Ginny a little squeeze and the latter had ran off to Harry, Hermione could finally go and prepare herself. She and Ron didn’t have to leave for another thirty minutes. Her hair was a bitch, as usual, but she pulled the trick for the third time; her hair was nice and straight, and she quickly put on a little make-up when Ron started crying hurry up’s and come ON’s to her, too.
Quite happy with the result, she wrestled her feet into her white pumps and tried to locate Ron’s position to Disapparate into his arms, but unable to do that because he was probably pacing up and down the hall, she decided to just walk down the stairs as graciously as she could.
She stood looking at Ron’s back (not an unpleasant sight, but she preferred his front) at the bottom step and cleared her throat loudly.
‘Mione! What took – woah.’
‘How do I look?’ she asked, obviously hinting he’d better throw her some compliments.
‘Better than ever, I’m glad I didn’t ask the ghoul to be my date after all.’
She accepted his arm and smiled at him.
‘Don’t be mean! He would’ve looked very pretty in this dress, I’m sure.’
She looked him up and down and added: ‘You look handsome, stranger.’

He did look a bit unlike Ron. He’d done something to his hair, which now had some sort of Harry effect on it, but she had always liked Harry’s messy hair, and with Ron’s face beneath it, it was picture perfect to her.
‘So, ready to go, beautiful?’ he asked her and George made puking noises while he strode past them.
‘Shut up, earless!’ said Ron in a bit of a rude way. He’d been very careful with making jokes to George, but he didn’t seem to take it too badly.
‘See you at the Fest, Harry, Hermione,’ he replied grinning and Disapparated to his date’s house. Apparently she was a ‘mysterious, sexy stranger whom had always admired him’.
Ron had guessed he was paying someone to be his date, unfortunately being overheard by Mrs Weasley, who attempted to push him down the stairs.
‘Well, we’d better go.’
Ron checked his multifunctional watch, grabbed her hand and they turned on the spot.

‘… Think I lost my upper lip,’ he mumbled moments later, and Hermione turned at him in concern.
She giggled. He hadn’t shaven in a few days and apparently his moustache-to-be had been ripped off of his face.
‘Your upper lip is fine. You’re getting better!’
He frowned and touched his lips. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Sure as can be!’
She took the liberty to touch his lips as well.

Then they both turned around to look at the place they’d just Apparated into; they stood in an old courtyard, next to two heavily breathing dogs. They looked really hungry and Hermione shrieked.
‘Oh, great job, you’ve done it all wrong!’ Hermione snapped, before sighing and Disapparating again.
Together with a slightly grumpy Ron, she had entered a whole new environment.
They were standing in downtown London, in front of what looked like an empty warehouse. Luckily the invitation had warned them about this, for if it hadn’t, they’d probably think they had Disapparated wrong again. Witches and wizards in pretty robes and dresses were crowded in front of the large building, all waiting to get inside. Ron and Hermione were VIP’s (Hagrid had read a Muggle magazine and loved the idea, and therefore chose about two hundred people to be VIP’s at the party, including a couple of centaurs), so they could enter immediately.
‘Wow,’ Ron said quasi-impressed, ‘they actually made an effort!’
‘You don’t know that, Ron,’ Hermione shrugged, ‘I don’t think they’ll actually have a dance in an empty warehouse. Don’t forget we’re wizards.’
‘Yeah, we are! We can do… magic!’ Ron exclaimed, as if realizing it for the first time in his life.
Before he would be carried away and trying out cool magic tricks with his wand, Hermione clasped his hand firmly and started walking towards it.

A red carpet that looked rather out of place was welcoming them, and next to the door stood Hagrid, for once dressed in a hairless suit. He was accompanied by about a dozen witches and wizards with camera’s and eager faces, undoubtedly journalists.
‘Ron! Hermione!’ Hagrid yelled at them, and his black eyes shone in happiness.
‘You look ruddy fantastic!’
They said: ‘Hey, Hagrid!’ and waved at him, happy to see their biggest (take this literally, Grawp could, even though he was now close to behaving like a human, not yet be accepted as a real friend) friend again.
Ron took his ‘humble-friend-of-Harry-Potter-pose’ and Hermione smiled at the cameras, before they went inside.
‘You’re gonna love it, the both of yer! Luna, Dean and meself, we make a great team, we do!’ Hagrid called after them, looking sentimental.
‘I bet you do, I’m sure we’ll love it, Hagrid!’ Hermione smiled at Hagrid, and they went inside. Hermione looked backwards to see who were VIP’s as well, and saw McGonagall march up the red carpet, with a most excited professor Flitwick running to keep up with her.
‘So happy to be here!’ he screamed at the journalists, barely understandable through the noise of the chatting crowd. ‘So happy! I feel so privileged!’
Hermione looked at her former professors in a bit of a nostalgic way, but there was no time for what if… questions.
She’d chosen to help Harry on his journey and without her help (and her beaded bag); she knew as well as the other two, they wouldn’t have gotten very far.
Yes, she’d done the right thing.
Inside, they entered a whole new world.
The party was Hogwarts-themed, and the banners of all of the four houses (though Slytherin’s was slightly smaller than the other three) decorated the walls.
The enormous space was not yet crammed with wizards and witches, but they knew that was only a matter of time. There were dozens of house-elves patrolling through the warehouse (which was magically enlarged, even despite the enormous amount of room it already provided), all wearing the same little black suits and holding up trays too big for them.

Hermione thought she recognized Winky, but was not sure (and ashamed of this).
There were loads of high tables with red or black table-cloths on them and from what seemed to be beneath the floor were bright lights shining up at them.
A couple of feet away from them, they saw Luna running up at them in a long, blue dress, apparently not caring about her killer heels while sprinting.
‘Welcome, welcome!’ she said cheerily, and in a way sounded like professor Trelawney. Ron had obviously noticed too, for he backed away a bit, making apologetic faces.
‘Hey, Luna! What a great job you’ve done…’ Hermione said, gesturing at the huge food table where no food was on, just a sign saying: ‘What you wish, you will receive!’ and a lot of little notebooks.
‘Oh, yeah, it’s really cool! The Hogwarts house-elves heard rumours of the Potterfest and all of them offered to help out! If you write something on those magic notebooks, they will prepare it for you!’ Luna beamed, and she held out her hands.
Confused, they took them and she led them to the big, wooden door.

‘We’ve changed our plans! Ginny and Harry will still open the dance, but you will join them in the middle of the first song!’
‘What?’ Ron squealed. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’
Hermione looked at him and practically saw his brains rattling, thinking:
‘At least I’ve got dress robes that aren’t ancient’, and to her great shame, she was thinking the exact same thing.
Luna pushed them through the big door, where Harry, Ginny, Dean and somehow, professor Slughorn, were awaiting them.
‘I believe I’m gonna throw up, mate,’ Ron told Harry, indeed looking slightly green, sitting down next to his best friend.
Hermione said hellos to Dean and Ginny and stared at Slughorn, who was wearing emerald green robes with embroidery on it. Wrapped around his neck was a expensive-looking silver scarf, and lately, he seemed to have enjoyed more of his favourite candy than ever, judging by the size of his belly.
‘Well, children, from what my sources tell me,’ he started, throwing a furtive look at Dean, who looked rather unhappy, ‘your dancing abilities have suffered some serious damage by not practicing over the last few years!’
He shot all four of them mean glances, as if it was their fault they’d been trying to stop Voldemort and fight evil away.
‘We’re genuinely sorry and apologize for every non-taken opportunity to put on our dancing shoes and go for it,’ Ron said, sounding quite truthful.
Harry and Hermione grinned at each other and looked back at Slughorn, who was looking at Ron in a very compassionate way.
‘Ah, my dear boy, I understand! Of course, your insecurity has possessed you over the years, I’m happy to see that you have changed your attitude! Very brave!’
‘WHAT MADE YOU THINK I WAS INSECURE?’ Ron roared, but Slughorn gave him a vague wave, and Ron calmed down.

‘Anyway, I will show you some dancing moves to loosen up those muscles!’
He gave Ginny a little squeeze in a muscle we will not name here, and she swung her arm forwards and hit him full in the face.
‘DO THAT AGAIN AND I’LL SHOW YOU MUSCLES! Ginny screamed, adding ‘professor’ in obvious sarcasm and revulsion.
Slughorn drew his wand in agony.
‘Must be something in that Weasley blood of yours!’ he breathed, yet loud enough for Ron and Ginny to hear. They chased him all the way to the door, and he almost made a dive for it. From the other side of the door they heard laughter, and they started to laugh themselves, too.
‘How comical that was,’ Harry concluded after a while, and they all agreed.
Hermione was feeling quite nervous now; she could dance, of course, but Ron was horrible. She reckoned Ginny was mulling over the same thing, too; Harry had proven not to be that much of a dancer at the Yule Ball, where Parvati Patil had almost tripped over him.
‘Maybe we should just dance together and let them be,’ Hermione offered in a low voice, and Ginny giggled.

‘Nah, the Potterfest wouldn’t be the same without Potter, would it?’
‘You just love to see Harry suffer, don’t you?’
‘Oh, more than anything,’ Ginny answered, but they were interrupted by Dean jumping up and laughing broadly at them.
‘Uh-oh, I believe it’s time.’
‘Everyone we invited plus a couple of reporters are inside!’ he said happily, and slowly, they rose to their feet.
‘Do we have to?’ Ron whined.
‘Yes, you do,’ said Dean, not attempting to hide his excitement about them going to be humiliated in front of hundreds of people.
And before they knew it, Dean had pushed Ginny and Harry through the door, yelling: ‘Good luck, lovebirds!’
Ron sighed and looked at Dean. ‘Pathetic. You’re so not over Ginny.’
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