zorb: (Warts - HP)
zorb ([personal profile] zorb) wrote2006-01-23 09:00 am

Fic - HP - Untitled ficlets (2)

I posted two drabble/ficlets for [personal profile] smilie117 and [personal profile] jlh for correctly guessing the time my phone repair dude would arrive. (Hey, I'm easy.) I'm back-posting them here for posterity. Originals are at this post. Usual HP disclaimers apply, etc.

When Harry arrived home from the Ministry that evening, he had expected a quiet Friday evening of cuddling with his wife.

He hadn't expected to find her on the floor in the living room, surrounded by boxes and plastic packaging, still wearing her work robes. Hermione didn't look up as she continued staring down at the open booklet in front of her until he cleared his throat and said, "Honey, I'm home."

"What? Oh, hi, Harry. It came today." She gestured vaguely at her surroundings.

"Great!" said Harry excitedly. While neither of them had missed Muggle entertainment while they'd been at Hogwarts, now that they were settled into their adult careers, they'd decided to supplement the wizarding world's woefully inadequate equivalent with the latest line of complete home entertainment systems. They'd set their eyes on a package that included a television, DVD player, and integrated home stereo system, all to be run off a wireless home network, connected through their existing computer.

"Yes," Hermione continued, not nearly as excitedly, "and it would be even better if I could figure out this bloody instruction...book." She almost tore the page as she flipped it.

Harry, feeling that this was the sort of thing men were supposed to be able to figure out (and fearing for the manual's structural integrity) joined her on the floor to take a crack at the recalcitrant machine system. It couldn't be that bad, right?

Wrong. Two hours and numerous breaks for pizza and snacks later, they were just as confused as ever. Hermione, who was certain that she could figure it out either through her Muggle world experience or by reading instructions, was still determinedly searching the Internet for help. Harry, meanwhile, had adopted the "Let's see if these pieces fit together" method, interspersed with, "You know, we could always ask to have it installed..."

"No."

"Just a suggestion."

Finally, he gave up and went into the office to check on her progress. Much to his surprise, there were no instructional texts on the monitor. Instead, all he saw were...

"Badgers, Hermione?"

She jumped. "Don't scare me like that?"

"Badgers?" he asked again, stepping up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Er...yes," she admitted, as the curiously hypnotic animated animals bounced in front of them. "I - er - got distracted."

"Right." He chuckled. "Look, we're both lost. Can we please let the professionals do it?" He ignored the snakes on the screen to give her his best pleading look.

She sighed and leaned back into him, tilting her head up. "All right, I suppose that's best. I can watch them and learn how to do it that way. If anything breaks, I'll be able to fix it."

"That's my girl." Harry bent over and kissed the tip of her nose. "Now, as long as you're busy with the - er - badgers, I think I'll go finish that ice cream." He released her and headed out the door.

She was on his tail in a second. "Harry, you really do have a lot to learn about women. Nothing gets between us and our ice cream."

"Not even instruction manuals?"

"Not even badgers."

*

There were a number of aspects to the wizarding world that Dean had never thought he'd get used to during his seven years at Hogwarts. Buildings that spontaneously changed configuration, for example, and money with bizarre conversion factors. Then there were the animated images, which still caused a negative gut reaction; as an artist, he felt it was his job to give his subjects life through technique, not a spell.

One thing he didn't mind at all, however, was how much easier magic made lazy weekends. Chores could all be spelled to happen on their own. He didn't even have to move from his spot on the couch, reclining half on top of his boyfriend, to get a fresh butterbeer. Accio was truly the greatest of spells.

Of course, things would be a bit easier if he didn't have Seamus badgering him every five minutes for explanations about the football game they were watching on the Muggle television set Dean's mum had given them. Evidently, while Dean had had trouble getting used to the wizarding world, Seamus, half-and-half though he was, still didn't understand all aspects of the Muggle one.

"Wait, why does that bloke get to pick up the ball?" was the latest query.

Dean sighed and answered as he'd done countless times before. "Because it's out of bounds. He's just throwing it back in the game."

"Why not just kick it?"

"Because it'd probably just get knocked back out again."

"Seems a bit nutters to change the rule just for that," Seamus commented.

"It's not changing the rule, it is the rule!" Dean replied in frustration.

"If you say so," Seamus finished, dropping the topic.

Or so Dean thought.

Five minutes later..."I don't think the goalkeeper should be allowed to use his hands, either."

"I don't think that would go over well with the FA," Dean remarked.

"It's not bloody fair this way," Seamus said. "There should be two goalkeepers, and they should both only use their feet."

Dean nearly choked on his butterbeer. "You're unbelievable," he said, and Seamus didn't disagree.

But five minutes later..."You know what this game needs? Cheerleaders."

At that, Dean sat up and turned to glare at his partner, who looked back at him with a wide grin and twinkling eyes. As realization dawned in Dean, Seamus burst out laughing.

"The look on your face! Merlin!" he cried.

"You've been doing it all on purpose," Dean said.

Seamus nodded, still laughing. "You didn't think I listened to you all those years and still didn't know the rules, did you?"

One thing Dean had learned after more than seven years in the wizarding world, and learned well, was that the best retaliation was with actions, not words. Seamus, too involved in his own amusement, didn't even see the pillow Dean flung at his face coming.

There wasn't so much laziness after that as there was dodging, tackling, and in the end, a more active use found for the sofa and spells.


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