Misunderstood Maledictions | Tomione

Dead and Buried

Monday, September 29, 1944

1:11 P.M.

The Room of Requirements had not changed. Except, of course, that it was no longer charred.

Hermione's head was throbbing, and she felt vaguely like the Hogwarts Express had just slammed into her from behind. To her left, she heard a very atypical groan from Draco and, through several stars and black dots across her vision, saw him sit up dazedly. "Errrrr... di' i' wor'?"

"Uhhhhmmm....lehmma see," Harry slurred as if he had just been Confounded. Unsteadily, he pulled himself unsteadily to his feet, his glasses hanging crookedly off his nose, and walked in a dangerously drunken manner over to the door. He pulled it open, nearly falling over backward in the process, and poked his head out into the corridor. "Uhhhhmmmm... ugh..."

"Ahhhhhh," Ginny moaned out of the blue, sprawled out on the ground. Very gingerly, she flipped onto her stomach. As soon as she did, she covered her head with her arms as if the simple act had been on of excruciating pain. "Ach!"

The nirvana-like relief Hermione had felt after being imploded into a tiny speck, travelling through time, and actually surviving was quickly replaced by an acute fear that the time travel spell had reduced her friends' brains to the size of peas. She had to find out. "Harry, in English, please..." she managed to gasp out, wincing as she delicately sat up. "I haven't quite mastered the art of caveman lingo."

She half expected Harry to grunt back. Instead, he shot her a withering look and straightened his glasses, his messy hair far more mussed more than usual. It was sticking so far out of his head in all directions, he could have passed for someone recently hit by lightning. He seemed about ready to shoot back some sort of snarky reply when Ron let out a repulsively loud snort, jerked straight up into a sitting position, and collapsed with a groan again.

The entire situation unexpectedly stuck Hermione to be a great deal more hilarious than it rightfully should have been. Ginny, eyes wide as she lifted her head off her arms in just enough time to see her brother hit the ground, seemed to be thinking along the same lines, and snickered. That was all Hermione needed. She lost it, and Lavender and Ginny rapidly followed suit.

"Oh... Sweet Merlin!" Hermione gasped between bouts of laughter and simultaneous twinges of pain. "I can see we'll have no trouble... positively dazzling them with our... our wit and charm!"

A wily grin broke out across Ron's face. He held up a finger, motioning for them to wait for it, and, too late, Hermione realized what her obviously mental best friend was about to do....

"Take cover!" Harry howled, flinging himself out into the fifth floor hallway as Ron opened his mouth and let out the most repulsive sound Hermione had ever heard, about a good twenty seconds in length and akin to a mixture of a monster bullfrog and a bullhorn. She uttered a stifled shriek and jumped into lap of the person nearest her: Draco; Ginny buried her head in her hands once more, and Lavender covered her ears, screeching, "Oh!"

The extreme stress of that morning must have been too much for Hermione to take without a grain of salt, because she was the first to begin cackling maniacally, burying her face into a smirking Draco's shoulder. Her laughter only worsened as Harry weakly crawled back into the Room of Requirement, chortling to himself and generally treating the incident with more humour than it really deserved to have.

By now, Lavender was a mess, tears streaming down her face as she collapsed into Ron, pounding his shoulder good-naturedly and giggling, "Ewwwwww, Ron!"

And then, almost like a punch in the face, Hermione felt the thick envelope Dumbledore had given her, still clutched in her hand - burning through it, it seemed... pulling her back to the grave reality of what they had to do. "Guys....haha, we —Harry, stop it!— We need to get serious!"