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An Eventful Morning by allybee
Chapter 1 : An Eventful Morning
 
Rating: 12+Chapter Reviews: 22


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An Eventful Morning



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“MOTHER!” a voice called from the top of the
stairs. “HAVE YOU SEEN MY RED SHIRT?”.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“No, dear,” Hermione replied distractedly, without
looking up from the hefty stack of paperwork on the table in front of her, “and
could you please not shout? If you need to ask me something then come
downstairs!”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>This remark was followed by a very loud slam and
the sound of a disgruntled teenager storming down several flights of stairs.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“But Mum, I TOLD you to iron it! I need it for
this afternoon, none of my other tops go with these jeans!” Rachel Weasley
said, her voice growing evermore shrill. She placed her hands on her hips and
glared at her mother, waiting for a reply.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>Hermione sighed and put down her quill with the
greatest of reluctance. She didn’t want to have this argument again but she
didn’t appear to have any other option.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“Firstly, if you need your shirt ironed you can do
it yourself. I am NOT a laundry service. Secondly, what do you mean, none of
your other clothes go with those jeans?!? What your wearing just now looks
fine!” She paused to watch her daughter give her the “Mother, you have no sense
of style whatsoever” glare, and then continued. “And thirdly, you aren’t going
anywhere this afternoon. I need you here to watch your sisters- your father and
I have to go…”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>Hermione never got to complete her sentence.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“WHAT?!? That is SOOOO unfair! I never get to go
anywhere cause you always need me to watch my stupid little sisters! Why don’t
you just get a babysitter or something? Or leave them on their own?”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“I can’t leave them on their own! They’re far too
young! I didn’t let you stay home when you were 11, and I won’t let Abby
either.”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“I HATE you Mother, you are so mean to me! Dad
would let me go!”



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“Dad would let you go where?” an amused
voice said from the doorway. Hermione saw a familiar grin flicker over her
husband’s freckled face



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“Oh, hello, dear. Our daughter was just
saying that you would let her go shopping whilst we were out, leaving her
sisters on their own.” Hermione said in a dangerously calm voice. “Is this
true?”



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“Of course not! How can you even think
that?” Ron’s voice sounded shocked, but he had a look on his face as though
what he was saying wasn’t entirely true. Fortunately he was saved from any
further questioning by a loud thud and an ear-piercing scream coming from above
them.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“Mum, Lucy’s hurt herself!” said an anxious voice
from above. Thinking that this fact was rather self evident, but nevertheless
still panicking, Hermione flung herself up the stairs three at a time, closely
followed by Ron. Rachel remained downstairs, still stewing over the injustice
of her mother’s decision.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>She was greeted by the sight of Abby nervously
trying to stem the copious flow of blood coming from her little sister’s face.
However, her attempts appeared to be making things worse.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“Mumby, I bumpd by dose! It’s bleedink!” Lucy
sobbed, waving her hands about theatrically.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“I’m sorry, Mum, it was an accident, I opened the
door, I didn’t realise she was behind it…”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“… it hurts, Mumby, amb I goink to be ok? Is it
broke?”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“Don’t worry sweetie, it’s OK…” Hermione said,
relieved that the situation wasn’t as bad as she had first imagined. “I don’t
think it’s broken, it’s just a nosebleed. Ron, can you get me some tissues?”



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”Yeah, tissues…” Ron said weakly. Hermione noticed that he had turned rather
pale. She sighed. He was always like this when it came to blood.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“Can I help, Mum? She should hold her head back
and pinch her nose- that’s what they taught us to do at first aid at school…”
Hermione knew that the best way to deal with the situation was to simply let
Abby prove that she was right- if they didn’t, they would be receiving first
aid tips for the rest of the day.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“OK Abby, you take her to the bathroom and sort
her out, and I’ll deal with the carpet.” Hermione pulled out her wand from her
skirt pocket, pointed it at the red splodge on the floor and muttered a charm
under her breath. Instantly the blood evaporated from the lilac carpet. She
checked that Abby had dealt with Lucy in an appropriate manner, and then headed
downstairs, hoping to speak to Ron for at least a few seconds, before her
children successfully created yet another diversion.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>She saw him sitting at the kitchen table, a large
mug of black coffee in his left hand. He had been working nights for the past
fortnight, much to her annoyance. They had barely spent five minutes together
in the past week, and it was at least another 10 days before he was back to
working his usual hours. He yawned loudly, without bothering to cover his
mouth, took a large gulp of coffee and made a disgusted face. He hated the
taste, but he needed it for the caffeine.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>She walked towards him, planted a kiss on his
cheek and headed over to the countertop. She was just about to pour herself
some tea when she heard a hooting and the dull thud of the mail landing on the
table. She turned around to see the family owl, Morwen, settling onto her
perch, and a large stack of letters sitting next to Ron’s mug. Rachel, who had
reached a phase of doing as much as possible to irritate her mother, took this
opportunity to yell loudly and rather unnecessarily, “POST!”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“Yes dear, we can see that,” Hermione replied
brusquely. Ron, apparently oblivious of the argument developing around him,
picked up the letters and began rifling through them, before pausing and
turning excitedly to his exasperated wife.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“It’s here!” he said eagerly.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“What’s here?” Hermione said, sharply. She was in
no mood to play one of Ron’s little cryptic clue games.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“Abby’s letter! It’s here!”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>Hermione finally grasped his meaning. “Rachel, go
and tell your sisters to come down!” she said excitedly.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>Rachel stood up, huffing and moaning, walked to
the foot of the stairs, tossed her long dark curls off of her shoulders and
bellowed “ABBY! LUCY! MUM WANTS YOU TO COME DOWN!”. She then walked back over
to her seat, sat down and folded her arms across her chest, as though
challenging Hermione to pick a fight. However, Hermione was far too excited to
want to argue.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“What is it, Mum?” Abby’s freckled face poked
round the corner of the staircase. “Have we done something wrong?”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“What? No, of course not! It’s just that there’s a
letter here that I think you might find interesting…” Hermione said teasingly.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“Oh, Mum! Is it the letter from the school? Is it?
Is it?” Abby whispered, her deep blue eyes filling with anticipation.



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”You’ll just have to see for yourself,” Ron said, unable to hide his delight.
“Why don’t you have a look…” He handed her the thick parchment envelope
addressed to Miss Abigail Weasley.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>Unable to contain her excitement, Abby ripped the
envelope open, flung it to one side and unravelled the contents. She read the
letter to herself, before jumping up and down, her wavy auburn hair flying
everywhere, shouting “I GOT IN! I GOT IN!”.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>Hermione wondered why she sounded so surprised-
she had known that she would be going to Hogwarts ever since she had shown her
first signs of magic. Hermione could remember it quite vividly- Abby had been
five years old when she started to use her powers. She kept doing the strangest
things- melting crayons, exploding small objects and turning her juice purple.
Unfortunately, she tended to do these things at school, leading Miss Reilly,
the teacher of the infants, to believe that she was having a severe mental
breakdown, complete with hallucinations, no doubt caused by the stress of
trying to teach a classroomful of noisy 5 year olds who really don’t
want to be taught.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>No, Hermione had always known that Abby was
magical. It was Lucy who worried her- she was 9 now, and she still hadn’t shown
any signs of magical powers whatsoever. She knew that this probably wasn’t
anything to get too worked up about, and that the chances of her daughter being
a Squib were fairly slim, but she had a naturally paranoid mind, and the
thought worried her greatly. She also couldn’t help remembering that children
who didn’t show any signs of magic until they were fairly old tended to be less
skilled at it later in life. Ron tried to reassure her by reminding her that he
hadn’t shown any signs of being magical until he was almost 9. Oddly enough,
this did nothing to reassure Hermione regarding Lucy’s potential ability.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>A thought suddenly struck Hermione. “You’re going
into fifth year now, aren’t you Rachel?”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“Wow, well done Mum. Maybe now that you’ve
realised that you can stop treating me like a first year.” Rachel replied
scathingly.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“There’s no need to be sarcastic,” Hermione said
irritably. “A simple yes or no answer would have sufficed. As I was saying, if
you’re going into fifth year, you’ll find out whether you’ve been made a
prefect or not, though with your attitude, I suspect it’s more likely to be “or
not”.”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>Ron glanced over at the look on his daughter’s
face. She appeared to be torn: on the one hand, she seemed to be desperate to
prove Hermione wrong (an emotion he recognised from experience); but on the
other hand she wanted to keep up the pretence of being a rebellious teenager,
an effect which would be somewhat tainted by prefecthood. Amusedly, he said
“Well, Rachel? Have you been made a prefect or not?”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>Rachel gave him an evil look, before replying in a
sing-song voice “Actually, I have.”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>Hermione, squealing in triumph, leapt up and
grabbed her daughter in a giant bear-hug. “Oh, I’m so proud of you sweetheart!
My baby girl, a prefect! Oh, I KNEW we raised you well!” Ron had a funny
feeling that Hermione was playing up her sickliness deliberately to annoy
Rachel, and from the disgusted look on his daughter’s face it appeared to be
working.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“Mu-um! Gerroff! It’s not that big a- ARRGH!”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>A resounding crash echoed through the room.
Hermione quickly released Rachel from her embrace and spun to look at Lucy, who
was holding Rachel’s wand with a guilty look on her face.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“I was, erm, just trying to move the plates over to
the table but it didn’t quite work…you can fix it, right?”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>Hermione looked from the shattered china on the
floor to Lucy’s face, unsure of whether to scold her daughter or praise her.
She settled for bursting into tears.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“Thank goodness! I’m so happy! Now we know you’re
magical after all!” Hermione blubbed. Highly embarrassed by his wife’s
melodramatic behaviour, Ron handed her a wad of tissues, into which she blew
her nose loudly. He then made an attempt to take control of the situation.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“Have you girls all had breakfast? Yes? Well, I’m
sure you’ve got things to do, people to see… go on!”



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style='font-family:Garamond'>He shooed his daughters out of the kitchen,
pausing only briefly to tell Rachel to call a babysitter for this afternoon,
and to make sure she was back from town in time for supper. Once they had
dispersed, he headed back to the kitchen table, where Hermione was busy
gathering her emotions.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“Well, it’s been quite an eventful morning! I’ll
have to write to everyone and tell them all the good news!” Ron said cheerfully.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>Hermione smiled blissfully at her husband. She
could see from the look on his face that he was just as proud of their
daughters as she was. But she had one more surprise left for him…



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“Yes, imagine! All of these things happening on
the same day!” she said sweetly.



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style='font-family:Garamond'>“We really have raised our girls well, haven’t we?
And you always thought that we were doing a bad job!” Ron said, his voice full
of laughter. “Still, the hardest bits are all over, aren’t they? style='mso-spacerun:yes'> 
We’ll never have to change another nappy or teach
another child how to fly a broomstick ever again… or at least until Rachel has
kids of her own!”



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Hermione grinned. Now was her chance… “I wouldn’t get too complacent if I were
you. You aren’t done yet. In fact, you’re going to get the pleasure of doing
the whole thing over again. Hey, maybe this time we’ll have a boy!” She glanced
at the bewildered look on his face, before continuing. “And, by the way, I’d
get used to the taste of coffee, if I were you. You probably won’t be getting a
lot of sleep a few months from now, and I expect you’ll need the energy…”



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style='font-family:Garamond'> And with
that remark, she spun on her heel and headed out of the kitchen door, a wicked
smile spreading across her face, leaving Ron standing on his own, mouth wide
open. 







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