Seven Days

Seven Days

DAY ONE

Hermione woke up the next morning to the smell of a hearty breakfast, the twin's laughter, and Mrs. Weasley's yelling.

"IT WAS NOT FUNNY!" she was shouting.

"Correction, mum, it is funny," sniggered Fred, and Hermione heard a little wail. "OW!"

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to go back to sleep again, but just then, Ginny walked into the room, and slammed the door. Hermione opened her eyes and sat up, squinting. "Ginny, what happened?" she said.

Ginny was livid with anger, and she ripped a hat off of her head. Her hair was bright purple with lime green polka dots. Hermione gasped. "They didn't..."

"They did," Ginny said shortly, shoving the hat back onto her head and dragging her trunk out of the closet. "And mum tried to reverse it, but it's one of their stupid inventions. They poured the potion into my shampoo bottle, and it's not going to wear off for three days."

Hermione gasped again and Ginny looked up from tossing random shirts in her trunk to glare at her. Hermione plastered a sympathetic look on her face. "Sorry Gin," she managed, kicking off her covers and beginning to unbutton her flannel pajamas.

"I'll give you some privacy," Ginny said briskly, and she opened the door open with such force, Hermione jumped, afraid the door would come off its hinges. With much strength, Ginny lugged her trunk off her bed, and threw it out of the room. Percy screamed as he narrowly missed being hit with it. Ginny turned to Hermione, gave her a sarcastic smile, and slammed the door behind her.

Hermione let out a shaky breath. Ron was angry, and now Ginny was too. She bit her lip, dressed quickly, and walked down the stairs. Ron, Harry, and Charlie were eating breakfast in the kitchen when she walked in. She took a seat across from Ron and next to Charlie as Mrs. Weasley set a plate of food in front of her. Ron took one look at her, stood up, and left the room.

Hermione looked down at her plate, not feeling hungry at all. "What time is it?" she asked.

"It's nine," said Mrs. Weasley. "We're late, and I can't send Bridgett an owl because she's Muggle."

"Muggle?" said Hermione.

"You missed the talk this morning," Harry informed her, eating some toast. "Since Bridgett's family are Muggles, we're doing everything Muggle this week. We aren't allowed to bring our wands or anything, and we're driving by car."

"Oh," said Hermione, "and how do Fred and George feel about that?" Fred and George hardly ever did anything without magic.

"Well," said Harry, sniggering, "they didn't like it. So they decided to take it out on Ginny." He took a sip of juice, which was a stupid thing to do, considering he was laughing, and it sputtered out of his mouth and down the front of his shirt.

Hermione looked at him, disgusted, as he wiped at his shirt furiously--with his hand. "It's not funny, Harry, Ginny is really upset," she said, scowling at him.

Harry didn't answer, so Hermione, feeling he was a prat, stood up and went back to her room to pack. It didn't take her that long, considering almost all of her things were already in her trunk.

There was a knock at the door, and Mrs. Weasley walked in with a pile of clothing. "In the town, there's a community center that teaches the locals to dance. I figured my boys might as well learn while they have the opportunity, and then they'll have a little ball at the end of our stay. I went into Muggle London and bought you a pretty dress. Here you are, dear." She said this all very fast and she practically shoved the dress into Hermione's hands before leaving.

Hermione spread the dress out on her bed and sighed. It's not that she wasn't grateful for Mrs. Weasley's thoughtfulness, but Hermione always preferred to shop by herself. Indeed, the dress was something that Hermione never would have picked out. It was a light pink sundress with a low v-neck (it wasn't really that low, but it was way too low for her), and when Hermione held it up to her body, she saw that it stopped just above her knees (way, way too short).

Hermione packed it into her trunk along with all of the rest of her belongings, and was beginning to lug her trunk down the stairs when she heard Fred and George complaining about their dance clothes. "Mum, we wanted to be identical," George whined.

"You are nineteen! Start acting like it!"

Hermione shook her head, and continued down the stairs, until she heard Mr. Weasley talking with Ron on the landing. "Dad, do I have to wear these? Honestly, I don't dance. I refuse to dance."

"Now, Ron, your mother spent a lot of money on that suit and she wants you to learn to dance."

Ron snorted. "And who am I supposed to dance with?"

"Why not Hermione?"

"I'm not coming within a football field of her," said Ron defiantly, and Hermione could hear him stuffing his suit into his trunk.

"Why not?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Ron said huffily, and Hermione could feel a burning sensation in her eyes.

"Well," said Mr. Weasley calmly, "Bridgett's daughter, Anna, is about your age, I believe. She's quite pretty, and I'm sure she'd like you."

"Why?" said Ron bitterly. "Does red hair turn her on?"

Hermione, deciding she had heard enough of this conversation, continued to lug her trunk down the stairs, and caught her breath at the bottom of the steps. Charlie kindly took her bags outside for her. She followed him outside.

There were two vehicles parked in front of the house. The first was a shabby looking van and the second was a small car. "Seating arrangements?" said Hermione.

Charlie shrugged. "I don't know, ask mum."

Hermione nodded and went into the house again. "Mrs. Weasley!" she called. "Mrs. Weasley!"

"Hey, Hermione, shout a little louder, I don't think they could hear you on the moon," said a voice. Hermione turned to see Ron lugging his trunk down the steps. The look on his face was extremely sour, and anger bubbled inside her.

"Oh shut up, Ron! I don't know why you're so bitter anyway," she huffed, and she walked away with extra pep in her step. She found Mrs. Weasley in the backyard, de-gnoming the garden.

"Hello, Hermione, dear. I just thought I'd get this done before we go," she said, looking up and smiling. "It's awfully chilly isn't it? Where's your cloak?"

"Oh," Hermione said, realizing that it was December. "I think it's still inside. I wanted to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"Well, you see, last year I passed my driver's test with flying colors. I was wondering if I could drive one of the vehicles, the car perhaps?" Hermione gave her a weak smile, praying she would say yes. Though Hermione was a witch, wanting to drive was a passion that had never wavered inside her.

Mrs. Weasley inspected her critically. To Hermione's great surprise, she stood up, wiped the dirt from her hands, and sighed with relief. "I was hoping you'd ask. In my day, in Muggle Studies, you learned to drive, and I am dreadful. Absolutely dreadful. I ran over Mrs. Norris, that poor cat...Filch nearly skinned me alive..." She winced as she recalled the memory.

Hermione smiled. "Thank you!" she said, giving Mrs. Weasley a hug.

"The keys to the car are on the kitchen table, dear."

Hardly able to contain her excitement, Hermione skipped into the kitchen, found the keys, tossed them in the air, and caught them. "Yes!"

"What's got you so excited?" asked Harry, coming into the kitchen. Barely remembering the fact that she was supposed to be angry with him for being so insensitive about Ginny, or noticing that he was eating toast (again), she explained. "Wish I could drive," he said, finishing his toast and reaching for another. "The Dursleys are afraid to let me anywhere near their car. Dudley got two cars for his birthday and he wrecked both of them in the same day." Harry gave a dramatic sigh. "Git."

"Do I dare believe my ears? Is ickle Mionekins going to drive?" said Fred in a high voice, waltzing into the kitchen, with George close behind.

"Yes I am, in the little car," said Hermione proudly, the way she would respond when announcing her high score on a test.

"We're riding with you," George said immediately. "Dad can't drive any better than mum can."

"No, me and Ron are riding with Hermione," Harry protested.

"Well, let Hermione decide," said Ginny grumpily, as she walked in, sending Fred and George death glares. "I refuse to ride with you idiots," she added, patting her hat self conciously.

Hermione bit her lip. "I don't know who to choose," she said honestly. Harry would definitely be riding with her, but she wasn't sure about the others. Ginny and Ron were in especially foul moods, and that would interfere with her concentration. George and Fred would probably clap their hands over her eyes, just for kicks.

Just then, Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. No one had realized he had been standing there. "Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny can ride in the car. The rest of us are in the van," he said matter of factly, and Fred and George groaned. Harry and Ginny gave each other high fives.

Ten minutes later, when all the luggage was packed into the cars, Hermione climbed behind the wheel of the small, red car and honked the horn twice. Ginny, whom was looking much happier, climbed into the backseat. Harry, accompanied by a pained looking Ron, went into the backseat as well. Ron stood outside the door to the passenger's side, looking defiant. "No way," he said shaking his head.

Hermione rolled down the window. "Are you getting in the car or not?" she said. "Because we wouldn't want to hold you up."

"I'm not sitting next to you," Ron said huffily.

Hermione felt tears prickle in her eyes. Why was he being this way? Angrily, she hopped out of the car, slammed her door, and walked around it to face Ron. She stared up at him. "What is your problem?" she snapped.

"What is my problem?" Ron repeated.

"Yes, what is your problem? I am not the plague!"

"I don't want to talk to you," said Ron, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're acting like a child." She walked back over to the driver's side and opened the door.

"Yes, I always act like a child, don't I Hermione? No one is good enough for you. We are all inferior to you, your highness!" He gave a mock bow, and his face was red.

"Ginny, can you please trade seats with Ron?" Hermione asked sweetly, growing scarlet.

"Sure," said Ginny, and she climbed out of the car, threw Ron a very disgusted look, and climbed into the passenger's side. Ron went into the backseat with Harry, who gave him a knowing look. That knowing look made Hermione furious, did Harry know something she didn't? She'd just have to ask him when they got there.

Mr. Weasley honked the horn of the van twice, and Hermione did the same. They were ready to go. The drive was two hours long, but it wasn't dull. Ahead of them, Fred and George were turned to face them from the back of the van and kept writing messages on sheets of paper, like, "Don't drive drunk" and "Smoking sucks, are you reading this Ron?"

That didn't really improve Ron's mood. He was quiet almost the entire way, and looking in the rearview mirror, Hermione saw that Harry talked to him every so often. Halfway there, Ron fell asleep.

Harry was occupying himself by trying to do his homework in the car, something that was extremely difficult because of all the bumps in the road. Finally, he gave up, and settled on reading The Scarlet Letter, which Hermione had given him to borrow, since they were to act as Muggles. Soon though, he discarded that as well.

Ginny kept flipping the stations of the radio, truly fascinated by Muggle music. She came across a song that Hermione knew only vaguely, but really didn't like. Ginny, however did like it and turned it up so loud, the car shook.

IT MAKES ME THAT MUCH STRONGER

MAKES ME WORK A LITTLE BIT HARDER

MAKES ME THAT MUCH WISER

SO THANKS FOR MAKING ME A FIGHTER

MADE ME LEARN A LITTLE BIT FASTER

MADE MY SKIN A LITTLE BIT THICKER

MAKES ME THAT MUCH SMARTER

SO THANKS FOR MAKING ME A FIGHTER

"I LOVE THIS SONG!" Ginny screamed, but that couldn't rival Ron's angry yell.

"BLOODY HELL, TURN DOWN THAT DAMN RADIO BEFORE I HURT YOU! ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME DEAF?" Hermione saw that he had sat up so fast, he hit his head on the roof of the car and was rubbing it furiously.

"SHUT UP YOU PRAT!" Ginny yelled.

Ron unbuckled his seatbelt and pressed almost every button on the radio, before Hermione, feeling kind, turned down the radio for him. "What is that rubbish?" he asked waspishly.

"Hmm, let's think. Sounds like music to me," said Ginny, furrowing her brow in mock concentration.

At that moment, Fred and George put up a sign that read, "Ron, you need to buckle your belt."

Ron made a rude gesture with his hand, and Fred and George could be seen clapping their hands over their hearts, and laughing hard. They responded with, "You like a monkey and you smell like one too."

When they pulled in front of the cabins, both Hermione and Ginny let out small sighs of content. The five cabins were small log cabins, and the light snow that was falling to the ground made them appear like a Christmas Greeting card. Tinsel and holly and mistletoe were hanging and wreaths adorned the doors.

When they pulled up, a tall skinny woman dashed out of the house, looking excited. Mrs. Weasley dashed out of the van and the two women embraced. Hermione smiled as she got out of the car. "...these are my children," she heard Mrs. Weasley say, and she motioned for everyone to come over. Hermione and Harry hung back, feeling a little awkward.

"How absolutely corking to meet you!" Fred and George said simultaneously, each grabbing a different hand of Bridgett's and giving it a hard shake. If she felt bewildered, she didn't look it.

"Harry, Hermione! Dears, come meet Bridgett!"

Harry and Hermione exchanged a smile and walked forward. "Yes, these are Ron's friends...Ron is my youngest boy..."

"Nice to meet you," Hermione said politely, shaking Bridgett's hand.

"Oh, the honor is all mine," Bridgett gushed, "I have heard so much about you!"

Hermione blushed as Mrs. Weasley looked at her proudly. For the first time, she felt like she truly belonged with the Weasley family. "Well, I'll leave you to unpack and then we'll have lunch, shall we? Anna and Bob are out golfing right now, but they should be back soon."

"Alright then!" said Mrs. Weasley, clapping her hands together. "Let's settle in!"

Ginny and Hermione headed back to the car to get their things, but Ron was already there. "Here," he said, looking a little less moody, and he handed Ginny her trunk as she patted the top of her hat once more.

"Cheered up?" said Ginny.

Ron grinned. "Not even close," he said, as he handed Hermione her trunk, avoiding her eyes. Hermione bit her lip and she and Ginny walked over to the last cabin, the one all the way to the right, the one with a brass 5 on the door.

Hermione and Ginny exchanged grins as they kicked the door open and walked inside. A small fireplace was cackling merrily in the corner, and there were two small cots on either side of the room. The floors were a little splintered, so they'd have to wear shoes all the time. The loo was in the back of the cabin, closed off by a set of curtains rather than a door, and the shower was barely large enough to stand in. Ginny shrugged. "At least it's only for a week, right?" she said.

"Right," said Hermione, and she pulled her trunk on top of her bed and began to unpack. She and Ginny were forced to share a chest of drawers (and a small one at that), but they didn't mind.

There was a knock on the door. Ginny went to answer it and Harry walked in, looking around. "Ours is bigger," he said simply.

"Well, that makes sense, doesn't it?" Hermione said. "There's four of you. By the way, you two are standing underneath mistletoe."

"What?" said Harry and Ginny, startled, and they jumped about a foot away from each other. Hermione laughed, and walked out of the cabin, with Ginny and Harry practically yelling at her for joking around.

Hermione went to cabin one, and knocked on the door. "Come in dear!" Mrs. Weasley said, and Hermione walked in. Mrs. Weasley was unpacking, and Mr. Weasley was examining a telly he had found. "Wow...Molly!" he said happily, when he managed to turn it on.

"I was wondering what our plans for lunch are," Hermione said.

"Oh, we'll probably head down to the village. It's really small, but I suppose they'll have a deli or two. And we'll visit the community center!"

"Great," said Hermione, trying to be cheerful. "We'll wait outside then."

She walked outside and seated herself on the hood of the Weasley's car, looking around. The trees were swaying slightly in the cold breeze and the leaves were billowing by on the ground. The sky was darkening, and the smell of rain was in the air. Hermione could see Ginny talking with Bridgett, Harry and Ron talking about the Muggle game of football, Fred and George planning a prank, and Bill and Charlie kicking around a volleyball. Then Mr. and Mrs. Weasley emerged from their cabin.

"I just called Bob on the cell phone, and he said we could just meet him and Anna in the town at this little pub called Jenny's," Bridgett told everyone.

"I know what a cell phone is!" Mr. Weasley announced proudly, his hand raised a bit, as though he was answering a question in class. His wife shook her head sadly, and Bridgett looked oddly at him. Fred and George were sniggering loudly.

"We can walk there, it really isn't that far," said Bridgett, and they started toward the town. Hermione walked a little behind the group, hands shoved in her pockets, shivering in her jacket. She didn't think she was going to like this trip very much. Ron still wasn't talking to her.

Bridgett suddenly began to chatter in her ear. "I think you'll just love this place, it is darling! And the young men are quite handsome! The waiter we had yesterday...my, he was a catch!"

"Really?" said Ginny excitedly, coming over to them, leaving Harry and Ron's side. "What did he look like?"

"Well, he was a strapping lad, dark, curly hair with bright blue eyes. And boy did he have muscles! Of course, I am a married woman..."

"We can dream, can't we?" said Mrs. Weasley, who was now involved in this conversation.

"And the boys here are so intelligent! Interested in literature and philosophy and science..."

"Really?" said Hermione hopefully, her head jerking upward, now suddenly interested.

"Yes, one of the dance instructors, Billy I think his name was, he's at the University, taking extra classes even though he already has his doctorate, whenever he isn't teaching, his head is in a book."

"I love books!" Hermione said, stopping with a smile on her face. "What else is Billy interested in?"

"Oh, who cares about books, Hermione?" said Ginny. "Tell me about that waiter!"

They didn't notice Ron and Harry staring at them, scowls ever so clear on their faces.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Lunch was a small occasion. They ate in a little restaurant and there was just enough room for the fourteen of them. Bob and Anna were there, waiting for them. Bob was a skinny man with wispy hair. He kept the boys talking about basketball, and it was funny to watch the Weasleys pretend they knew something about the sport. Harry did, of course, and when he and Bob went into a detailed conversation about the American Basketball Teams, the Weasley boys stared at him with their mouths open.

Anna was sixteen, Ginny's age, and she was a very active person. She talked of horse championships, tennis, swimming, hiking, and practically everything that could be done outdoors. With short, choppy, blonde hair, a slender body, and piercing grey eyes, she was a looker. In fact, Hermione noticed that Ron could hardly keep his eyes off her throughout the whole meal, a fact that made Hermione quite sick inside. But overall, Anna was a nice person.

Meanwhile, Ginny was flirting hopelessly with the waiter, the same dark haired, blue eyed man that Bridgett had told them about. He, however, paid no mind to poor Ginny, but continued to flash smiles in her direction, nevertheless. Hermione thought that she'd have to restrain her brothers from attacking the man, for when he came to take their orders, Charlie stabbed his fork threateningly into his napkin, and said calmly, "If this service isn't satisfactory, I think I just might throw a fit." Hermione was surprised he didn't launch into an explanation about the ruthless things dragons could do.

"Mum, when do the dance lessons start?" Ginny asked through the meal.

"They start tomorrow morning, actually," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, lovely," said Ron sarcastically, and it was all Hermione could do not to kick him under the table.

"Well, I am interested," Hermione said pointedly to Mrs. Weasley, raising an eyebrow at Ron. He looked up from his plate, and mocked her, raising an eyebrow as well. He grinned at her, and Hermione had to smile back. She was glad he was in a better mood.

"We're going to be dancing with complete strangers," Harry was muttering to Bill, looking disgruntled.

"You could be my partner Harry," Anna spoke up, and Harry nodded, the tips of his ears red.

"Or Harry, Ron could be your partner," said George casually, and the whole table broke into laughter, with the exception of Harry and Ron.

"Ha ha ha, very funny," said Ron, looking as though this was the least funny thing he'd ever heard in his life.

"Or Ginny could be Harry's partner," said Charlie, "and leave Anna to Ron." All the boys burst into laughter, and the girls remained silent. Hermione noticed that Harry was blushing furiously, trying to laugh, but looked miserable. Ginny, too, was looking quite embarrased, and she blushed too.

"Charlie, I will curse you so bad--" she started, pointing a finger at them.

"Do what?" asked Bob casually, eating some of his sphagetti.

The table grew unusually quiet. Bob, Bridgett, and Anna stared at them in confusion. "Er...not in a literal sense," Hermione said quickly, hoping she was sounding as nonchalant as possible, "in a joking manner. Isn't that right, Ginny?"

She looked pleadingly at her currently purple and lime green haired friend. "Of course," she said hastily, giving a meek chuckle and patting her hat self conciously for the hundredth time that day.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The sun was slowly fading against the pink sky. A cold breeze washed over Hermione and she tugged her coat closer to her body, admiring the view. From this spot in this tree house (which she had found about a mile from the cabins after lunch), she could see the cabins standing out like five pinpricks of wood. The bluish-grey mountains, however, couldn't have been bigger and lovelier than if she had imagined it.

It was truly beautiful.

"Good view?" said a voice and Hermione turned to see Ron walking toward her, wearing only a sweatshirt and jeans. He looked happier than he had been yesterday.

"It's pretty," Hermione, turning back to stare at the sinking sun.

"May I?" Ron asked, and Hermione moved over so he could sit next to her in the small tree house. "Why are you so far from the cabins? Did you tell anyone where you were going?"

Hermione felt a pinch of annoyance. She did not enjoy people treating her like a little child, least of all Ron. "Yes, I did," she snapped. "Did you?"

He raised his eyebrows and sighed. "It was only a question," he muttered.

Hermione bit her lip to keep from saying anything, but, as usual when she had something to say, it didn't help. "Why are you so worried? I understand Voldemort's growing stronger, but we still have to keep living!"

"You sound like my mum," he said, and Hermione realized he was growing irritable again.

"Why were you so uptight yesterday? Why are you in such a foul mood?" she asked, her tone growing softer.

"Because..." started Ron, staring straight at the mountains, "because you made me angry."

"How?" said Hermione confused. If she remembered correctly, he was the one who had started this little feud between them.

"First, you treated us like tramps and then you just go off, leaving us to think that you were hurt or worse," he said, clenching his fists and then unclenching them, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

"Well, I am sorry I caused you to worry, but that gave you no reason for you to yell at me," she pointed out.

"We should probably head back now," he said, cutting her off. Great, thought Hermione, he's in one of those moods again. Sighing, she stood up, hands in her pockets, hair flying all over the place in the cold wind. The sun had completely set now, and she and Ron were walking back to the cabin in the dark.

Ron walked her to the cabin in silence. When they arrived in front of it, she found she couldn't say anything. So she settled for, "Good night."

"Yeah," he said, growing paler in the cold. "Good night."

"You two are standing underneath mistletoe!" Ginny called in from the cabin and Hermione closed her eyes, shaking her head. "It's true!"

Hermione dared herself to look up, and indeed, there was mistletoe hanging over the two of them. She avoided Ron's eyes and she didn't have to look at his face to know it was bright red. "You...er...it's okay...you don't have to..."

A look of relief spread across Ron's face and he sighed. "Okay," he said. "Thanks. Good night, Hermione."

And he walked away and into his own cabin without looking at her.

Hermione cleared her throat as tears welled to her eyes, tears of disappointment. Before anyone could see them, however, she wiped them away and told herself it was stupid to cry over something so stupid.

But that didn't stop her from slamming the door to the cabin.