It sounds like things are moving on smoothly! That's great news. I'm flying back from Kyiv tomorrow, and hopefully moving flats myself over the weekend, though it will be a much smaller operation than your move. The trickiest bit is probably the books as I've acquired a few more than I'd intended to, and so it might take a couple of trips to get them all sorted.
Taking turns "A home?" said Ronnie. "What do mean a home? Why didn't Harry have a home before?" Hermione tapped her fingers against her wand-holster, the light drumming conveying a sense of menace. "Harry lived with his aunt and uncle," she said slowly and carefully, almost as though she were talking to Harry himself. "They were arrested for child abuse, animal abuse and wilful neglect; taking turns at each, two months after he came to Pigpimples and while they were being held in prison and awaiting trial their house burned down, their other son was involved in a gruesome motorcycle accident and a curse was put upon their bloodline. Not including Harry, for some reason. He has no family and nowhere to go." "Just as well you Obliviated him senseless then," muttered Ronnie. Hermione flushed pink, but he continued, "How do you know all this anyway?" "I read the newspapers," said Hermione smoothly, but Ronnie was already trying to remember if Hermione had been mysteriously absent from school not long after their very first term had started. "Anyway, he's inherited a house. The Ramshackle. It's in London." "What did Harry's godfather die of, exactly?" said Ronnie. "Since you read the newspapers and all. Was it any of the time-delayed curses?" "You should go to London and see your new home," said Hermione to Harry, who smiled as though he was being offered a slice of Hogwash Cake. "It's nearly Friday," she checked her witchwatch and realised that it was past midnight now, "actually, it is Friday. So we can get a permission slip from Professor Catcall and go Friday evening and maybe even spend the night there. It will be an adventure, Harry!" "Sounds pretty tame considering everything else you've already done," said Ronnie. He squared his shoulders. "I'm coming too. Harry gets obliviated too often when you're left alone with him." "Of course you are," said Hermione, turning away. "I'll get the permission slips; you get Harry dressed and pack an overnight bag for him and we'll meet in the Entrance Hall at 5pm." She walked away, and when the click of her heels had faded to silence Ronnie took Harry's hand and led him through the dark, silent corridors. "I think she was expecting me to want to come," he muttered. "Which means she's planning something else. You know Harry, I think we're in the tale of a Dark Lord, only we're supposed to stop her before she becomes a Dark Lord. And even if we take turns trying to stop her mad plans I don't think it'll work." "Blancmange," said Harry. For a moment his face cleared. "Did she say my godfather was dead, Ronnie?" "Yes," said Ronnie, holding back a sigh. Harry started crying and pressed his face against Ronnie's shoulders. "Yes, as brutally as she could."
2 comments:
It sounds like things are moving on smoothly! That's great news. I'm flying back from Kyiv tomorrow, and hopefully moving flats myself over the weekend, though it will be a much smaller operation than your move. The trickiest bit is probably the books as I've acquired a few more than I'd intended to, and so it might take a couple of trips to get them all sorted.
Taking turns
"A home?" said Ronnie. "What do mean a home? Why didn't Harry have a home before?"
Hermione tapped her fingers against her wand-holster, the light drumming conveying a sense of menace. "Harry lived with his aunt and uncle," she said slowly and carefully, almost as though she were talking to Harry himself. "They were arrested for child abuse, animal abuse and wilful neglect; taking turns at each, two months after he came to Pigpimples and while they were being held in prison and awaiting trial their house burned down, their other son was involved in a gruesome motorcycle accident and a curse was put upon their bloodline. Not including Harry, for some reason. He has no family and nowhere to go."
"Just as well you Obliviated him senseless then," muttered Ronnie. Hermione flushed pink, but he continued, "How do you know all this anyway?"
"I read the newspapers," said Hermione smoothly, but Ronnie was already trying to remember if Hermione had been mysteriously absent from school not long after their very first term had started. "Anyway, he's inherited a house. The Ramshackle. It's in London."
"What did Harry's godfather die of, exactly?" said Ronnie. "Since you read the newspapers and all. Was it any of the time-delayed curses?"
"You should go to London and see your new home," said Hermione to Harry, who smiled as though he was being offered a slice of Hogwash Cake. "It's nearly Friday," she checked her witchwatch and realised that it was past midnight now, "actually, it is Friday. So we can get a permission slip from Professor Catcall and go Friday evening and maybe even spend the night there. It will be an adventure, Harry!"
"Sounds pretty tame considering everything else you've already done," said Ronnie. He squared his shoulders. "I'm coming too. Harry gets obliviated too often when you're left alone with him."
"Of course you are," said Hermione, turning away. "I'll get the permission slips; you get Harry dressed and pack an overnight bag for him and we'll meet in the Entrance Hall at 5pm."
She walked away, and when the click of her heels had faded to silence Ronnie took Harry's hand and led him through the dark, silent corridors. "I think she was expecting me to want to come," he muttered. "Which means she's planning something else. You know Harry, I think we're in the tale of a Dark Lord, only we're supposed to stop her before she becomes a Dark Lord. And even if we take turns trying to stop her mad plans I don't think it'll work."
"Blancmange," said Harry. For a moment his face cleared. "Did she say my godfather was dead, Ronnie?"
"Yes," said Ronnie, holding back a sigh. Harry started crying and pressed his face against Ronnie's shoulders. "Yes, as brutally as she could."
Greg - well, good luck with your move as well then! Any particular reason for the move?
Ah, a much appreciated continuation. I'm curious to see what happens to everyone in London.
Also: Blancmange is delightful.
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