But That's What It's There For!

But That's What It's There For!

Splat. She jumped back from the pungent aroma of the object that had fallen from above her. Hermione looked up from below the balcony to see two fiery-coloured heads disappear from view, and growling, marched towards the steps leading to the balcony. Ron caught up with her easily, and grabbed her by the arm.

"Hermione, what are you doing?"

She stopped and turned to him, pointing to the ground where the remnants of the Dungbomb were left strewn across the pavement, and then to the balcony. Ron followed her as she marched upstairs, towards her red-headed prey, and, upon reaching them, tapped them on the shoulder. Fred and George turned around, swiftly concealing their bags from view.

"Why Hermione! Ron, how are you two doing this fine day?" asked Fred jovially, trying to stuff the bag behind his back into George's hands without her seeing.

"Don't play games with me," she spoke in a menacing voice. "What are you two doing up here? And with those?" She pointed to behind the twin's backs, as George tried to secretly put the objects into his backpack.

Fred and George put on expressions of mock shock, and George held up his now empty hands in defence. "My dear, dear Hermione, what ever do you mean? Here we were, standing here-"

"Completely innocent," added Fred.

"And you accuse us of ... wait, what are you exactly accusing us of?" asked George, somewhat confused.

Hermione scowled. "Of dropping Dung bombs over the balcony, dear George." The boys feigned outrage. "Oh come on. Dropping Dung bombs in a public place could get you in serious trouble. Not to mention the fact that dropping them from such a height could cause serious damage!"

George opened his mouth to speak, but found that he didn't quite know how to answer. He motioned for Hermione and Ron to give them a minute, and he turned to his brother.

"Well?" he whispered.

"She's right, you know," Fred sighed.

"Oh yes, I know," agreed George. "But she doesn't have to know we know what she knows, you know?"

Fred stared at his brother. "You know, if we weren't mentally connected by some special bond, I wouldn't have a single clue what you're on about."

"Funny that. Neither do I usually." George and his brother turned back to face Hermione. "Listen, as long as it's not hurting anyone, then its okay, isn't it?"

"What if it hits someone?" Hermione asked, peering over the balcony.

George thought about this for a moment. "Then they'll smell for a few weeks. And if we hit a Slytherin, it will improve their foul stench-"

"And therefore we will be committing a civil service, and should be praised-" continued Fred.

"And given a medal," George added.

"Or a plaque." Fred nodded.

"Besides," said George. "We weren't doing anything."

Hermione eyed them suspiciously, not believing their statement of innocence. "We're not at school," she said. "How are you going to know whether it's a Slytherin or not?"

George began to answer, then shut his mouth again. Hermione smiled smugly, knowing that she'd gotten one over on them.

Fred began to smile. "Oh, the Dungbombs know where to go," he answered in a knowing voice.

Hermione rubbed the side of her head, exhausted, and muttered, "Oh this is ridiculous." She crossed her arms across her chest and eyed them narrowly. "You know, it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye," she reprimanded.

Ron nodded. "Ah yes, but then it's just a game; find the damn eye." George and Fred laughed at their brothers' humour, whilst Hermione slapped him on the arm.

"Ron! Don't encourage them!"

Ron rubbed his arm, and turned to Hermione. "Oh lay off it, Hermione. Do you honestly expect them to listen anyway?" Ron pointed, and Hermione saw that the twins had already turned their backs and were continuing to make new and elusive plans.

She called over to the twins. "What would you do if I told your mother?"

The boys, turned around slightly to look at Hermione. "There's not really much she could do. We're not little boys anymore, Hermione. And anyway, are you going to be the one to spoil her good mood?" Fred pointed over the balcony, towards a plump red-headed woman smiling and laughing with her husband, shopping for souvenirs. Hermione scowled at them again. "And don't scowl, Hermione," added George. "You'll get little creases in your forehead like mum." Fred nodded.

Hermione threw her arms up in the air, and shook her head, whilst Ron tried to suppress a laugh with great difficulty. "That Dung bomb was huge!" said Hermione. "Someone dropping such a thing could really hurt someone. And their aim is awful."

"Hey, their aim is not awful!" defended Fred.

"Yeah! And they're not huge, they're only this big!" added George, producing one from his pocket. "Oops ...."

"Aha! I knew it! See, so you were throwing them over the balcony, weren't you?" Hermione asked triumphantly.

George smiled, and tossed the bomb from hand to hand. "What, this ole thing?"

Fred sighed. "So we have some Dung bombs, big deal. That can't prove anything." Hermione frowned again. "The meaning of these things," he said, taking the brown ball from George. "Is to throw them off buildings. You wouldn't want to diminish it's meaning, would you?"

"That doesn't mean you have to throw them off a balcony!" retorted Hermione.

"But that's what it's there for!" argued George. "And for the last time, we weren't doing anything!"

Ron, who had spent the majority of the argument in silence and trying not to laugh, tugged gently on Hermione's arm. "Come on, we might as well leave them to it."

Hermione glared at the twins' for the last time, and walked away with Ron, shouting over her shoulder, "Fine, but if someone gets hurt, I hold you two responsible!"

"Oh, that's right! Blame the guy with the Dung bombs!" George yelled after her sarcastically.

"Honestly, people these days," agreed Fred, as he proceeded to throw another bomb from the balcony onto a group of remaining children.