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Who Cares It's Only April? | ||||
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Category: Muggle Picnic Challenge (2005-2) Characters:None Genres: General Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 24 Summary: Due to some unseasonably warm weather at Hogwarts, the Muggle Studies students put on a picnic. Who wins the wheelbarrow race? What are the items that must be found in the scavenger hunt? And who are the mysterious last-minute entrants? Hitcount: Story Total: 3885 |
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April was a good time to be a wizard at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Nearly two months had passed since the latest Death Eater attack. The Ministry had hired replacement workers to work at Gringotts, since the goblins were still on strike. Thus the banks could reopen, and wizards could withdraw and spend money again. But the biggest reason of all that it was good to be a Hogwarts student was that it was the Easter holidays. Even the weather seemed to reflect the students’ moods. It was a nice, sunny Tuesday, the warmest start of April in ages. Harry looked outside the Gryffindor Tower window. It was the perfect day to have some Quidditch practice, he thought to himself. He sighed, knowing that over half the team had left the school for the Easter hols. Natalie McDonald, Ron, Ginny, and the captain Katie Bell had all chosen to spend Easter with their families. Molly had insisted that the two Weasleys spend Easter at the Burrow, because she had been out of town visiting Charlie over Christmas. Harry walked downstairs, on his way to fly on the pitch alone anyway. He saw Hermione seated in her usual chair in the common room, holding an unusual object in her hands that Harry couldn’t identify. “Hi, Harry,” she said with a smile. “Where are you going?” “Outside to play Quidditch,” he replied. “Don’t you have any homework to do?” she asked inquisitively. “It’s too nice a day outside to do homework!” Hermione stood up. “I’ll go with you,” she said. “What?” Harry asked incredulously. “Didn’t you just say we should be doing our homework?” “I am doing my homework,” she insisted as she revealed the object that she was holding. “Here I have a portable telly. We are supposed to watch it for Muggle Studies.” “Oh, I forgot,” he said. He was referring to the fact that Hermione took classes, such as Muggle Studies, that he didn’t take. Of course he had known what a portable television was, for Dudley had owned one. “And since it doesn’t work inside the castle,” Hermione continued, “I must go outside to watch it. And since you can’t fly today, seeing that you still don’t have your Firebolt back and the school brooms are in a cupboard locked over the hols, you might as well come with me.” So Harry and Hermione left the castle and walked nearly halfway to Hogsmeade. “I think we’ll be able to watch it from here,” she said as she turned on the television. “And here’s Jim McGuffin with the weather,” a voice boomed from the telly. “And in the five-day forecast,” came a second voice, “Britain will experience a period of unseasonable warmth. In fact, over the next fortnight there will be nothing but sunshine and temperatures right around twenty Centigrade. Back to you, Ted.” “In other news,” first voice returned, “a fire in South Devon has claimed 300 acres of forest. It is believed to have been caused when a grill fire went wild. Picnickers are urged to be more careful when grilling.” Hermione took out a quill and pen and began writing furiously. Harry asked, “What exactly do they mean by ‘picnickers,’ anyway?” “Picnics, why, they’re fun,” she began. “You grew up with Muggles. Surely you’ve heard of picnics.” “Well, you said picnics were fun,” Harry noted, “which means, of course, that the Dursleys never took me on one.” “Each year, usually in the summertime,” she explained, “Muggles would go outdoors, have barbecues, and play outdoor games, such as swimming, flying kites, sack races, and that sort of thing. Maybe next summer I’ll invite you and Ron over to my house and we can go on a picnic. You don’t know what you’re missing.” Hermione returned to watching the news. Suddenly, a loud noise echoed from the direction of Hogsmeade. “What was that?” she asked. “I don’t know,” said Harry, “but I’m going to find out.” He started to run towards the village, his wand at the ready. “Harry, come back! It could be dangerous!” Hermione called out, but seeing that she couldn’t stop him, ended up following him. Harry raced towards Zonko’s shop. He hurried inside and was mortified by the sight. George Weasley was lying on the ground in a pool of blood. “What the --” Harry began. Hermione, upon arriving at the scene, began to scream. “April Fool!” George called as he stood up, unable to keep himself from bursting into laughter. He pulled out his wand, pointed it at the puddle of what turned out to be tomato sauce, and called out “Evanesco!” “That wasn’t funny, George!” Hermione reprimanded him. “It sure was,” said George, continuing to laugh. “That scream of yours, Hermione, that was priceless! You really thought I was dead!” “George,” she continued, “we are in the middle of a war. Now is not the time to pretend to be dead just for some stupid April Fool’s Day joke.” “For once I agree with Hermione,” said Harry somberly, thinking about Cedric, Sirius, and his parents. “Come on, lighten up, you two,” said George. Hermione glanced at her watch. “Good thing that it’s now noon, so that you won’t be able to pull that tasteless prank on anyone else.” “Who came up with that twelve o’clock rule anyway?” George asked rhetorically. “Never mind, at least it’s still our birthday, that is, Fred and me.” “Where’s Fred, anyway?” Hermione asked. “He’s at our other franchise at Diagon Alley.” “What do you mean, other franchise?” she inquired. “You only have one franchise, in London.” “Au contraire, my dear Hermione. Didn’t you notice the sign outside when you first walked in? Just go out and take a look. ” Harry and Hermione stepped outside and noticed that the Zonko’s sign had been replaced by -- what else -- Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. George smiled as they returned inside. “Zonko’s closed down back in December due to lack of business, so naturally we took over the site.” “Well,” said Hermione, “we had better return to the castle. It’s almost lunchtime.” So Harry and Hermione started off on the path back to Hogwarts. On the way, Harry saw Katie going back the way he had just come. “Hi, Katie,” he said as he walked passed. She didn’t reply. The two sixth-years walked a few more paces, until Harry’s face lit up. “Hermione,” Harry said suddenly, “what is Katie doing at Hogwarts? She said that she was going home for the Easter hols.” “So?” “So I want to know why Quidditch practice is cancelled,” said Harry as he turned around to watch Katie arrive at the village. “I want to know why Gryffindor is way behind and almost out of the running for the Quidditch Cup. I’m following her.” “Harry, don’t,” Hermione began, but she saw that Harry would not be convinced. “I want no part of this. I’m going back to the castle.” Harry ignored her as she left him. He followed Katie until he saw her enter the joke shop. When he entered the store, for the second time in less than an hour, he was horrified at what he saw there. George and Katie were snogging. “What the --” Harry exclaimed. “It’s not what you think,” Katie began. “Harry, we’re closed!” George called out. “At twelve-thirty in the afternoon?” Harry angrily drew his wand. “Explain yourselves.” “You wouldn’t hurt a Weasley, would you?” George asked. “Okay, I’ll explain everything. Katie and I have been going out for almost a year, just before Fred and I left Hogwarts. No one, not even Fred, knows about our secret relationship.” “Why are you doing this?” Harry asked. “Because she’s hot.” George leaned in towards Harry. “I’d sure like to hit the sack with her!” “I heard that,” Katie said as she slapped George playfully. “I’ve been sneaking out each Friday, since I have no classes that day. George would tell his brother that he’s taking inventory, when instead he’s Apparating to Hogsmeade. Now, of course, George conveniently opens up a second franchise right here in Hogsmeade, so that he doesn’t even have to lie to his brother, and now we can snog everyday.” “So that’s why you’ve been missing Quidditch practice,” said Harry. “You are probably the worst captain Gryffindor’s ever had. I have half a mind to tell Ron why we’re so far in the hole, or tell Fred why the Hogsmeade franchise is closed in the middle of the day and losing business.” “You wouldn’t dare tell anyone about us,” said Katie. “Why not?” Harry asked. “Because as your captain, I order you not to tell, or you’re off the team.” “Oh, so now you suddenly care about the team?” Harry spat out. “If it weren’t for Ron’s goalkeeping in the match against Hufflepuff, Gryffindor wouldn’t even be in the running anymore! If you don’t care about the team, Katie, maybe you shouldn’t play Quidditch anymore.” “Actually, you’re wrong, Harry,” said George, eyeing Katie up and down. “Quidditch playing is definitely doing her some good. As if you and Ginny don’t go off snogging in the Astronomy Tower every other night or so.” “Ginny and I don’t jeopardize the team just for -- hey,” said Harry, “how do you know anything about Ginny and me, anyway?” For Harry and Ginny had officially become a couple two months earlier. “It was obvious,” George answered, “ever since you two danced together at the Halloween dance. At least you weren’t as dense as Ron and Hermione. Which reminds me, once ickle Ronniekins passes his Apparition test this week, I bet he and Hermione will go off and --” “Stop changing the subject,” Harry interrupted. “So, what do you say?” Katie asked. “Will you betray our secret?” As much as Harry was angry at George and Katie, he wanted to play Quidditch even more. Flying on a broomstick was often the only time Harry felt free, that he left the troubles of the world behind. After missing a whole year of Quidditch the previous year, he didn’t want to do anything to miss it again. “No,” Harry said finally. “Thank you,” George and Katie said together. Harry walked back towards the castle. He arrived at one o’clock, just in time for lunch, but then again, he wasn’t hungry. He returned to Gryffindor Tower. “You’re back,” said Hermione. “Well, you’d better start your homework.” “I lost the book,” Harry claimed, for he was in no mood to do his homework. “You’re in luck. I found your book,” she said as she pulled out Advanced Potion Making by Libatius Borage. And so Harry half-heartedly began to work on his potions homework. Harry did not enjoy the remainder of the week. First, he had to work on a rather lengthy essay about the Pepperup Potion. But he couldn’t concentrate because George and Katie and her betrayal of the Gryffindor Quidditch team hung over his head. Finally, he missed his girlfriend Ginny. He wished that he could have gone to the Burrow with her, but Hermione had convinced him that it was for the best that she and Ron spent some time alone with their family. The first day of the summer term terribly for Harry. First, he had written only eight inches, or half of the required length, of the essay, and this cost Gryffindor ten points. Then in Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall scolded him, for he had completely forgotten that he’d had an essay to write in Transfiguration as well. “Let’s see, Potter,” said McGonagall, “you had fifteen days, not counting Easter, to write the essay, so let’s make it fifteen points from Gryffindor. And you will report to detention this afternoon, which you’ll spend finishing the essay, of course.” Then, at lunch, Katie approached Harry and told him that there would be Quidditch practice that day. Of course, Harry thought to himself, now that he had a detention, that was when Katie scheduled practice. As lunch was ending, Hermione sat down next to Harry, obviously in a delighted mood. “Harry! I have some great news! Professor Dumbledore accepted my idea!” “What idea?” Harry asked, bewildered. “What are you talking about?” “We were talking about it in Muggle Studies, and with the weather being so nice, oh, listen. Dumbledore’s about to make the announcement.” Sure enough, Dumbledore was standing in front of the staff table to address the students. “Students, may I please have your undivided attention,” the headmaster began. “At the suggestion of Professor Tricycle -- your Muggle Studies teacher -- and her student Miss Granger, I am pleased to announce that our school will be hosting its first ever Muggle-style Outdoor Day this Saturday.” A few of the students, especially the purebloods, began exchanging glances and whispers. “In other words,” Dumbledore continued, “we will be having a picnic. All students who wish to participate will have until dinnertime this evening to come up with ideas for outdoor games to play at the picnic, and to decide who will have the duty to clean up and barbecue the food. And one more thing, the Muggles who have picnics do not ordinarily use magic at these affairs, so keep that in mind when planning the activities at this picnic.” “No magic!” called a drawling voice from the Slytherin table. It was unmistakably Draco Malfoy. “Then what’s the point?” “Mr. Malfoy,” the headmaster said, “participation in this event is strictly voluntary. If you do not wish to join in, then all I ask is that you do not disturb the students who are willing to participate.” After Dumbledore had finished speaking, Hermione turned to Harry and spoke. “Won’t this be fun? You’ll finally have your first picnic, since the Dursleys never took you on one.” “Thanks,” said Harry. He wasn’t sure what to think of Hermione and her picnic idea. So far, it sounded wonderful, but there was something nagging his mind. “Hermione,” Harry asked a few moments later, “if picnics are so fun, then why did the anchor on the telly last week say that having a picnic was dangerous?” “It’s only dangerous when someone or something starts a fire,” Hermione replied. “Don’t worry, Harry, but that won’t happen at our picnic.” “Right,” said Harry, whose fears were calmed down for the time being. After lunch Harry didn’t have any more classes, so he decided to begin working on his Transfiguration essay for Professor McGonagall. He might as well write as much as he could before detention, so that maybe he would be able to leave detention early. His essay was about the seven registered Animagi of the twentieth century. When he entered Professor McGonagall’s office, Harry was surprised to see that Colin Creevey was already seated there. “Hiya, Harry!” said Colin, delighted to see him. “Did you hear the school’s having a Muggle-style picnic next Saturday?” “Of course,” said Harry. “Dumbledore told the whole school, remember?” “Well,” said Colin unabashed, “guess what I’m signing up for? That’s right, the scavenger hunt. I’ll hide things all over the grounds and come up with all sorts of cool clues! I’ve done scavenger hunts loads of times, since my parents are Muggles, and they always say --” “Why is Colin here?” Harry asked the professor. “Did he receive a detention, too?” “No, Potter,” she replied. “The week right after the Easter holidays are over, I speak with all the Gryffindor fifth-year students regarding their careers after Hogwarts. Surely you remember this from last year. Just sit down, finish your essay, and ignore our conversation.” Harry sat down and began to write, thinking about his own career advice appointment, when McGonagall and Umbridge had debated over whether he should become an Auror. Thanks to that conversation, Harry was now taking all the classes he needed to become an Auror, even Potions. “Now then, Creevey,” said McGonagall, turning back to Colin, “as I told you, you have too much potential to settle on becoming a mere photographer. You are doing exceptionally well in my class, and I have heard that you are succeeding in Charms as well. Perhaps you would do well in a Ministry position, or even --” “I will be a photographer, whether you like it or not!” Colin stood up and began to leave, but not before saying, “See ya at the picnic, Harry!” “Oh well,” said McGonagall to herself. “What are you staring at, Potter? Finish your essay.” “Professor,” Harry asked, “will there be any other fifth years coming in today?” “One more,” she replied, “but that’s not until two-thirty, which is not for another half-hour or so. If you hurry, you should finish your essay before the appointment begins, so that we would not disturb you.” So Harry worked on his essay in silence. Once he had finished, he handed the parchment to the professor. “Let’s see, Potter.” She skimmed over the essay. “There are only six Animagi listed here.” “I just can’t remember who the seventh one is,” Harry insisted. “Let me give you a small hint.” She instantly transformed into the tabby cat. “Oh yeah,” said Harry. He retrieved the parchment and furiously started to write, wondering how in the world he could have forgotten. “I’m here for my career appointment,” came a female voice. Harry looked up and saw that it belonged to none other than Ginny. He immediately stood up and embraced his girlfriend. “I’ve missed you, Ginny.” “I’ve missed you too, Harry,” she replied. “Hey, McGonagall’s not here! Let’s say we grab our brooms and head out to the pitch. Katie’s actually holding practice today, for once.” “I am right here, Miss Weasley,” said the professor after returning to human form. “There will be no Quidditch practice for either one of you. Potter, you finish your essay, and Weasley, let us begin our business here.” Now that Ginny was here, of course Harry could no longer concentrate on his essay. He could not stop himself from listening in on her conversation with Professor McGonagall. After all, it was the first time Harry had stared into Ginny’s beautiful brown eyes in over a fortnight. “Now then, Miss Weasley, you are currently averaging an Exceeds Expectations in my class, and from what your other professors have told me, you are excelling in most of your other classes as well. Therefore, you have several career options available to you. A Healer, say, or --” “Why does everyone assume I want to be a Healer?” Ginny asked. “Mum says I should be a Healer, Dad says I should be a Healer, Bill and Charlie and Percy and now you!” “Maybe because you’re so caring and concerned about the well-being of other people?” Harry posed. “Potter,” said McGonagall sternly, “you are to write your essay, not listen in on our conversation. Well then, Weasley, what do you want to become then?” “A professional Quidditch player, of course,” Ginny said with a smile. “I’ve planned it all out. I’ll be the captain of the Holyhead Harpies, the only all-female team in Britain.” “You’d be excellent at pro Quidditch,” Harry chimed in. “You’re a brilliant player, and you can play more than one position.” “Five points from Gryffindor, Potter,” said McGonagall. “I told you to write your essay. Now then, Weasley, you show exceptional talent in all subjects, and you would not want to waste it all playing games all day.” The professor then spent the next couple of hours trying to convince Ginny to become a healer. Finally, she simply gave up. “Fine then,” McGonagall sighed. “First a photographer, now a Quidditch player. I hope that the students who have appointments tomorrow will choose more worthwhile careers. You are free to go, Weasley.” “I’ve finished my essay,” said Harry, handing the parchment back to Professor McGonagall. He and Ginny headed for the door, hand in hand. “Ah, young love,” Harry could hear the professor distinctly say. Once they had left the office, Ginny said, “If we hurry, we can still make practice.” Ginny returned to Gryffindor Tower to pick up her broom. But when she and Harry arrived in the Great Hall, they saw Katie and the other teammates arriving. “Oh well,” said Ginny. “I guess that we are too late for practice.” “That’s funny,” said Harry. “I don’t see Ron with the other players.” “That’s because he’s still at the Ministry,” Ginny informed him. “Ron failed his Apparition test the first time around, and he had to beg Dad to let him try one more time. But if he fails it today, he has to wait until the summer holidays.” As it was nearly dinnertime, they sat down at the Gryffindor table. “Harry, Ginny,” said Hermione, “you’re just in time to sign up for an activity at the Muggle picnic.” She handed them the sign-up sheet. All the fun activities, such as setting up the scavenger hunt, had already been taken by Colin and the others. All that was left was cooking and cleaning up. “I’ve cooked with the Dursleys,” Harry told the others, “but never these kinds of foods. I think that I’ll sign up for cleaning up.” “I’ll sign up for whatever you do,” Ginny added. So Hermione added the two of them were added to the cleanup crew. After dinner, nearly everyone returned to Gryffindor Tower. But then Ginny suddenly whispered something to Harry. “Well, we missed Katie’s practice, but there’s still time for our own private practice.” As she said this, she smiled mischievously. “But it’s already nightfall, and, oh,” said Harry as realization dawned on him. “But by this time, surely the cupboards are locked, so I won’t be able to grab a school broom.” “Don’t worry, we’ll share mine,” said Ginny. “That makes it all the better.” They sneaked outdoors into the warm evening, silent except for the occasional chirping cricket. Together they mounted Ginny’s broom and soared high into the starry sky. Harry knew that once again, he was where he truly belonged. He was back on a broom again, and more importantly, he was with the girl he loved. They landed at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Together they stared into space, calmed by its peacefulness and serenity. “Isn’t the scene beautiful?” Ginny asked. “Not as beautiful as you,” Harry replied. “And now,” said Ginny quietly, “we make our two-month anniversary complete.” They began to snog. Harry thought back to the conversation he’d had with George the previous week. Well, he realized, technically they had flown up here, so this snogging session wasn’t interfering with Quidditch practice at all, unlike George and Katie. “It is almost midnight,” Ginny said abruptly. “We’d better leave before Professor Sinistra catches us.” But they were too late. They could hear footsteps walking up the stairs. “You fly back to Gryffindor Tower,” Harry told her. “I’ll cause a diversion.” “Mr. Potter!” Professor Sinistra called out. “This is the Ravenclaw third-year class.” “Well --” Harry began. “Seeing as this is your first offense, and I don’t see you snogging any girl, I’ll let you off with only a penalty of five points against Gryffindor. But don’t let me catch you here again.” As Harry walked back to Gryffindor Tower, he thought about how his day, which had begun so terribly, had ended on a high note. He couldn’t believe that he would have enjoyed a day on which he had lost thirty-five points for Gryffindor. The next day, Harry and Hermione were on their way to Herbology when they saw that Ron had returned. “Welcome back, Ron,” said Harry. “How did you arrive here?” Hermione asked. “I Apparated to Hogsmeade, then I --” “You passed the test!” Hermione congratulated Ron as she embraced her boyfriend. “I guess that means Apparating to secret snogging places,” said Harry, echoing George’s words. “You know we can’t Apparate at Hogwarts,” Hermione reminded him. “Oh Ron, you missed so much while you were away.” She filled him in on the upcoming picnic. “Hold on a minute,” said Ron. “You said the entire Muggle Studies class planned it. Aren’t you the only student in N.E.W.T.-level Muggle Studies?” “Very funny, Ron,” she replied. “No, I’m not the only student, although the class is rather small. Let’s see, there’s Hannah Abbott, and Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Seamus, and --” “But Hannah and Justin are Muggle-borns like you,” Ron pointed out, “and Seamus is a half-blood. All of you should already know about Muggles, so why are you all taking Muggle Studies? You’d think there would be more purebloods in the class.” “That’s because most purebloods are like Malfoy, too stuck-up to take Muggle Studies,” said Hermione. “Dad told me he took Muggle Studies back when he was at Hogwarts,” Ginny informed them. “Of course he would have,” said Ron. “Now then, Hermione, you said there’s some sort of sign-up sheet?” “Yes,” said Hermione, “but I don’t think you’ll be too delighted. There’s only one job left.” She pulled out the list, and Ron stared at it. “You must be kidding!” “Guess again!” said Hermione. “I have to cook?” Ron asked incredulously. “I have to barbecue? But I don’t know how!” “Well,” said Hermione, suppressing a grin, “if somebody had taken Muggle Studies, maybe he wouldn’t be in this predicament.” “Saturday, that’s four days away,” Ron realized. “I’ve got four days to learn how to barbecue.” But the four days passed all too quickly for Ron. Soon it was Saturday, and Ron was no closer to learning how to barbecue than he had been on Tuesday. “Harry,” Ron said as they woke up that morning, “I’m doomed.” “It can’t be that difficult,” said Harry. “Just throw some meat on the barbie and watch it cook.” “There’s more to it than that,” Seamus broke in as he and his roommates put on their robes, “We learned in Muggle Studies that if you’re not careful when barbecuing, you may start a huge fire.” “Then we’re in big trouble,” said Harry, thinking back to the news story about the fire caused by picnickers the previous week. That afternoon, the Gryffindors prepared to go outside for the picnic. Everyone was required to dress in Muggle clothing. Harry put on his oversized shirt and jeans, hand-me-downs from Dudley. Because of the warm weather, most of the wizards wore shorts and most of the witches wore skirts. “And remember, all of you,” said Hermione. “This is a Muggle event. No magic allowed. Professor Tricycle says that you should keep your wands indoors.” Harry nodded, but secretly he was going to bring it anyway. For that matter, he also had the Marauder’s Map with him. It could come in handy when it was time for the scavenger hunt. Harry and his friends joined the other Gryffindors outside by the lake. They were accompanied by many students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Needless to say, not too many Slytherins were interested in participating in a Muggle picnic. Picnic blankets were spread out on all sides of the Hogwarts lake. “You’d better hurry,” said Justin Finch-Fletchley. “We’re about to start the wheelbarrow race.” “Huh?” asked Harry, Ron, and Ginny simultaneously. “It’s called the wheelbarrow race because the team looks like a person pushing a wheelbarrow,” Justin explained to the bewildered Gryffindors. “Come on, I’ll show you.” With a stick, Justin drew start and finish lines in the ground, about a hundred metres apart. “Now all players must choose a partner.” “Okay,” said Harry. “I’ll choose Ron.” “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Justin added, “that it’s boy-girl only.” “Come on, Ron,” said Hermione. “Harry, you can do it with Ginny.” “Now,” Justin continued, “you all line up at the starting line. One partner must face the finish line, bend over, and place his or her hands on the ground. The other player must stand behind his or her partner, reach down, and grab the partner’s legs, placing the legs around his or her waist and holding on to them. Then you must walk to the finish line this way, with the first player walking on his or her hands and the second player following behind holding up the legs. I’ll give you a few chances to practice.” “Okay,” said Ron. He lay prone on the ground. “Now Hermione, you grab my legs and --” “Guess again,” said Hermione crossly. “You’re too big for me. You grab on to my legs.” As Ron and Hermione quickly switched places, Harry himself lay down. “Are you sure?” Ginny asked. “Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me.” Ginny grabbed Harry’s legs and they started to walk. To Harry, it was a rather different experience. Dudley, back when they were in primary school, would often grab Harry by the legs, only to dump him into a garbage can. But Harry had never had to walk on his hands while in such a position. Ginny laughed and nearly dropped Harry. “Sorry,” she said, stifling a giggle. “It’s just hilarious watching Ron drop Hermione’s legs for the umpteenth time.” “Stop looking at them,” Harry warned, “before you let go of me!” “We are about to start,” said Justin. “The first team that makes it completely over the finish line will be declared the winners. Oh look, we have ourselves a mystery team!” Two figures completely dressed in Muggle clothing arrived at the picnic. One of them, obviously Katie Bell, wore a white dress and high-heeled shoes. The other wore a black wig, a hat, a fake moustache, glasses, and a suit. Harry surmised that it was George, still keeping his liaison with Katie a secret. On the count of three, one, two, three!” The Hufflepuff team of Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott took the early lead. Harry moved his hands faster, and soon he and Ginny overtook them. “Good job, Harry,” said Ginny. “I think we’ll be able to win.” But then, suddenly, Ginny lost her grip, and she fell right on Harry’s back. At that moment, Harry called out., “Ouch! What happened?” “The Michael and Cho team walked past,” Ginny explained, “and I think Michael, who was holding on to Cho’s legs, just tripped me on purpose.” Harry looked up, and saw Michael Corner and Cho Chang crossing the finish line. “We have ourselves the winners,” Justin announced, “Michael and Cho of Ravenclaw!” “That was too bad for you,” said Katie as she and her disguised partner finished the race. “I thought I saw him trip you, although I couldn’t really tell from down here.” Harry and Ginny finally stood up again. They watched the remaining competitors, including Ron and Hermione, who stumbled across the finish line in last place. The next event was the scavenger hunt, of which Colin Creevey and Ravenclaw Terry Boot were in charge. “Here is the list of items to be found,” said Colin. “Whichever team brings back the most items wins.” Everybody remained in the same teams as for the wheelbarrow race. Thus Harry and Ginny looked at the list together. “Terry Boot must have come up with this list,” said Harry. “Him and the other Ravenclaws.” “Luna’s socks,” Ginny read, “Luna’s shoes, Luna’s schoolbooks, even Luna’s knickers. Why don’t the Ravenclaws just leave her things alone?” “Where is Luna, anyway?” Harry asked. “She told me in Muggle Studies that she didn’t want to come to the picnic.” “You’re in Muggle Studies? Why didn’t you tell me that?” “You never asked,” Ginny replied. “Besides, I’m afraid that Ron will make fun of me the same way he makes fun of Hermione for taking Muggle Studies. Well, let’s begin. Too bad we didn’t have a map of the school grounds so we’d know where to look first.” “Well, I have a map,” said Harry slyly as he started to take out the Marauder’s Map. “Harry, that’s cheating,” Ginny reminded him. “We’re not supposed to use magic, because this is a Muggle only picnic. And besides,” she added as she pointed towards a crowd heading westward, “why use magic when it’s not needed? It’s obvious one of the items is near Hagrid’s cabin, where everyone is going.” So Harry and Ginny headed over to Hagrid’s cabin. But when they arrived, Hagrid said, “Harry, Ginny, yer too late. That Ravenclaw girl’s shoes were here, but the las’ pair’s already been taken.” “Rats!” Harry cursed. “Well, it was nice seeing you again. Goodbye, Hagrid.” “Ye’d best be on yer way to find the other things,” said Hagrid. “I bet yer looking’ forward to the barbecue, since I heard tha’ Ron’s the one cookin’ today.” “Actually,” said Ginny matter-of-factly, “I’m a little apprehensive of my brother’s cooking.” “Well, bye Harry, bye Ginny,” said Hagrid as the two of them left his cabin. There was no sign of any other students. Then, at last, Ginny saw Michael and his partner holding up a pair of Luna’s socks. “Look, Harry,” she whispered, “the socks must be hidden the way they just came from. We’d better hurry before all the other students find them.” So she and Harry ran in the opposite direction. Soon, they found themselves lost in the Forbidden Forest, and they stopped to collect their breaths. “Hold on,” said Harry, “who was that we were just following this way?” “It was Michael,” Ginny paused, “and Cho! You don’t mean to tell me --” “Yes,” said Harry. “There’s nothing over here. They just walked this way to throw us off, just as Michael tripped you earlier today. But why would they intentionally hinder us like this?” Ginny’s face lit up. “I know why. Remember what we did to them over at the fake Madam Puddifoot’s back in February? We should have known that they wouldn’t just let it go without trying to find some way to pay us back for that prank!” “That’s it!” Harry said angrily. “We’re lost in the Forbidden Forest. We need to find a way out of here!” He took out the Marauder’s Map again. “Harry,” Ginny pleaded, “no magic, remember? It’s cheating.” “Michael and Cho cheated by tripping you and leading us astray. And listen,” Harry added suddenly, “do you hear that? I think some centaurs are coming. So we can either avoid using magic and find ourselves possibly killed by centaurs, or we can use magic to find a way out of here!” “We don’t need the map,” she repeated. “I can hear everything. The centaurs’ hoof sounds are coming from the west, and to the north Grawp is snoring, and to the south I hear some strange spider sounds. So we’d best go east, and quickly!” So the two of them broke into another hard run. They were able to escape the forest with no more danger. “Harry, Ginny,” Hermione greeted them, “where have you been? Everyone’s else has been back here at the lake for ages. Oh, never mind. Neville and Eloise Midgen were the only team to find all the items.” “But at least I found Luna’s bra, knickers, short skirt, and tank top,” said Ron. He lay the items he had found on the ground in front of him. Then he glanced at Hermione, the items, then his girlfriend again. “Hey,” he added, “I’d sure like to see Hermione in this outfit.” “Ron, you, you --” Hermione said angrily, then broke off. “I wonder what the next event is,” said Seamus. “I hope it’s the barbecue. I’m starving.” “Me too,” Ron added. “What’s taking them so long to cook the food? I’d like to give the bloke in charge of cooking a piece of my mind!” “Ron,” Hermione reminded him, “you’re the one in charge of cooking, remember?” “In that case,” said Ron, who was still reluctant to cook, “why don’t we go on to our next activity? I know, why don’t we all go for a swim in the lake?” “Ron, no --” said Hermione, but to no avail. Ron immediately tore off his t-shirt and shorts and jumped straight into the lake wearing nothing but underwear. “Aaaah! Cold!” Ron yelled as he quickly climbed out of the lake. “But it’s such a nice, warm day.” “The air temperature is warm,” Hermione, who was now holding Ron’s clothes, pointed out, “but the lake is still cold. Only the hardy -- or should I say, the foolhardy -- would consider swimming before late June, no matter what the weather.” “Must find way to dry myself and warm up!” Ron said, still shivering with the cold. “You can give me back my clothes, Hermione.” “I don’t know,” said Hermione, trying to stifle a giggle. “After that comment you made about how I ought to be wearing that tank top --” “Okay, I apologize,” said Ron hastily, before all the girls started laughing and pointing at him. Hermione finally returned his clothes. “You can warm yourself up over there,” she said, pointing, “by the grill. And while you’re over there --” “I know,” said Ron, admitting defeat, “I’ll start cooking the food.” In all truth, Ron’s cooking was not half bad. He soon mastered the art of grilling. He took each slice of beef or pork, laid it on the grill, let it cook for five minutes, flipped it, and let it cook five minutes more. He even made kebabs by alternating between meat and vegetables on a skewer. “Hey, this is fun!” he called out. “I wonder what I was so afraid of. Now I will make the futon for dessert.” “Fondue,” Hermione corrected him. “Futon, fondue, what’s the difference?” Ron asked. While Ron was cooking, the competitions continued. Dennis Creevey was up next. “It’s time for the best dressed Muggle boy and girl contest!” he announced. “Well, my boyfriend and I are wearing Muggle formal wear,” Katie pointed out. “Then I guess you two win the best dressed Muggle boy and girl contest,” Dennis concluded. “Congrats to Katie Bell and, uh, --” “George,” as her disguised partner said this, Katie elbowed him in the ribs, “Giorgio! That’s a right, my name a is Giorgio,” he now said in a fake Italian accent. “Tug of war is next,” announced Hannah Abbott, who was in charge of the event. “Who wants to play?” “We will,” said Michael and Cho immediately. “Harry,” said Ginny, “now’s our chance to beat those two after what they did for us today!” In the end, a handful of younger students from each of their respective houses joined the two couples, so that the tug of war became an inter-House rivalry between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Hannah, as the neutral Hufflepuff, told the teams when to begin. “One, two, three, go!” she announced, and the two teams started to pull on opposite edges of a ten-metre long rope. Ginny was much stronger than expected, Harry realized, as she began to pull the rope in the Gryffindor direction. But the Ravenclaws would not give up. Michael led his Ravenclaws, and they were able to move the rope back in their direction. Ginny’s hands were starting to ache, until she looked up at the Ravenclaws and an idea formed in her mind. “When I say ‘now,’ let’s all drop the rope at the same time.” “What?” Harry asked incredulously. “Trust me,” she insisted. And so, when she gave the signal, the Gryffindors let go of the rope. The force of their sudden release of the rope caused the Ravenclaws to pull the rope hard, and they fell right into the lake, which had been behind them the whole time. The Gryffindors all began to laugh loudly as Michael, Cho, and their Housemates were all splashed with the frigid lake water. “You were right, Ginny,” Harry commented. “I guess the Gryffindors win,” said Hannah. Suddenly, just as afternoon was turning into evening, a flash of red light appeared from the direction where Ron was grilling. “Ron,” Seamus complained, “you’re burning our food!” “It wasn’t me,” Ron insisted, “and besides, you’re still eating my so-called burnt food.” The news story about the fire reentered Harry’s mind, and he was sure that a similar fire was about to occur right here at Hogwarts. A second flash of light nearly struck Ron. Now it was obvious that the cause of the flashes was not the grill, but a wand. “You’re mine, Weasel!” came the voice of Draco Malfoy. “And no one here can stop me.” “Of course we can,” said Ron. “We’re Dumbledore’s Army and you’re no match for us!” “Oh yeah?” asked Malfoy. “This last time I checked, all the Defense spells you learned require a wand. But it’s Muggle day, and so none of you have your wands on you.” Ron realized that Malfoy was right. The picnicking wizards, because of the rule that it was to be a Muggle picnic, had left their wands in their dormitories, except for Harry, who had brought his wand along with the Marauder’s Map. “I have my wand,” Harry whispered to Ginny, who was still standing next to him, “but a certain redheaded witch told me that it’s cheating to use my wand today.” “Harry,” she replied quickly, “you’re allowed to curse Malfoy! And besides,” she added, “I brought my wand too, in case something like this happens.” “In that case,” he said, “it’s two of us against one of Malfoy.” “Oh yeah?” Malfoy repeated. “There isn’t just one of me. You see, the Dark Lord recruited a number of us Slytherins over the Easter holidays to become junior Death Eaters. We were to find a time when Hogwarts was at its most vulnerable so we could attack from the inside. And then you idiots make our job so much easier by having Muggle day and leaving your wands behind.” “He’s bluffing,” said Ginny. “I don’t think so,” said Harry, pointing at Crabbe and Goyle, who were exiting the castle and heading towards the picnickers. “What’s cooking today? How about some grilled Weasel,” said Malfoy, his wand still poised at Ron. Ron began to sprint in the opposite direction as Harry and Ginny drew their wands and charged at Malfoy. “Crabbe, Goyle,” Malfoy bellowed, “follow that Weasel!” Then he stormed inside the building in order to avoid Harry’s and Ginny’s wands. The two Gryffindors chased their quarry past the Great Hall. The cowardly Malfoy was racing towards the downward stairs, trying to make it into the Slytherin common room and freedom. But Harry and Ginny were much too fast for him. “Stupefy!” Harry called out, and at the same time, Ginny invoked her patented Bat-Bogey Hex. “What is the meaning of this?” Professor Tricycle, who had followed the students, scolded them. “I told you that you were not supposed to use magic today. Ten points from Gryffindor, and give me your wands.” “What?” Harry asked indignantly. Fortunately, at that moment Professor Dumbledore arrived on the scene. “I must ask that you do not take the students’ wands away,” he said to the professor. “Now I know that if you had it your way, wizards would not ever use wands, but we are in the midst of a war, and wizards living as Muggles would not stand a chance against our enemies, who will surely use their wands against us.” Harry explained to Dumbledore about Malfoy’s claim that he was a junior Death Eater. “It is very possible, Harry,” he replied, “that Mr. Malfoy may be telling the truth. One cannot be too careful in these days of war. That is why I award Gryffindor twenty points for demonstrating how to be prepared in these turbulent times. Mr. Malfoy was in the wrong, for I had specifically asked him not to disturb the students who chose to participate in the Muggle picnic. Speaking of which, now the picnic is over, but I believe that the two of you have some cleanup to do.” Harry and Ginny returned outside. By this time, most of the other students had left save Ron and Hermione. “Crabbe and Goyle were so stupid,” Ron informed them. “Instead of chasing me, they starting stuffing all the hamburgers into their big mouths.” “They really ate all of that?” Ginny asked. “I thought you had burnt them.” Ron ignored her. “By the time they figured out they were supposed to chase me, I was already halfway to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. Once they finally caught up to me, I was in Hogmeade. I Disapparated right behind Crabbe and kicked him in the arse. Goyle spotted me, yet he was still surprised when I Disapparated and kicked him too. A kick in the arse. Sometimes Muggle methods of fighting work well.” “Yes,” said Hermione, “but only if you count Disapparating as a Muggle method.” “Well,” said Ron, grabbing his girlfriend’s hand, “we leave you to your cleanup.” They walked inside, leaving Harry and Ginny to their task. The sun was beginning to set. “We didn’t win anything,” said Harry, “but at least we had fun.” “What do you mean, we didn’t win?” Ginny asked. “We won the tug of war.” “You’re right,” Harry conceded. “I know, Michael and Cho didn’t help us, making us lost in the scavenger hunt. But least Neville and Eloise won, and the Muggle dressing contest going to Katie and her Italian Muggle boyfriend --” “That wasn’t a Muggle,” said Harry. “That was George.” “George?” Ginny stared at him like he had lobsters crawling out of his ears. “You mean my brother? But that means --” “Yes, George and Katie have been dating for almost a year. Oops!” Harry suddenly smacked himself right in the forehead. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.” Now that he had let the cat out of the bag, he explained everything he knew about the couple. Ginny smiled. “So that’s why Katie’s been missing practice.” “But now that I’ve told you, Katie’s going to kick me off the team.” “Don’t worry,” she reassured him. “Katie doesn’t know you told me -- yet.” She laughed to herself upon seeing an anxious expression on his face. “Of course I won’t say anything. There’s no way Gryffindor would be able to come back from so far behind if you’re off the team again.” “Okay, then, let’s finish cleaning up. This will take two seconds.” He started to take out his wand. “No magic, remember?” Ginny reprimanded him. “I can’t do magic,” Harry said simply. Then, suddenly, he kissed his girlfriend straight on the lips. “What was that for?” “No magic. You didn’t say anything about no kissing.” “I know,” she said as she kissed him back. A/N: This fic is a continuation of some of the fics I've written for other challenges. Sorry, still no beta! I tried to contact about four or five of the people on the SIYE beta list, but the ones I'd chosen were all busy with work, school, or betaing other fics. So you'll have to put up with yet another unbeta'd fic |
| Reviews 24 |
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