Bees in Bonnets (oneshot)

A/N: I fancied putting a bee in Harry and Ron’s bonnets (or most of the male Hogwarts population, depends how many you see fancying her!) – a oneshot.

The train journey seemed faster than previous years for Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, they’d commandeered the head’s compartment for their own use, reminiscing over past years on their final trip on the Hogwart’s Express.

“What now then?” Ron asked, unwrapping a chocolate frog.

Harry’s seeker reflexes caught the confection as it jumped into the air, he handed it back to Ron. “I don’t know what to do now – I don’t seem to have a purpose anymore now, do I? I did what the prophesy and history said to do – what now?”

“Rest, relax, be happy?” Hermione replied, smiling as Harry cuddled Ginny closer to him, “Ginny, just sit on his lap and have done with – you can’t get any closer to your boyfriend anyway!” the smile never left her face as she spoke, genuinely happy for two of her best friends.

“But! But! But!” Ron spluttered as his baby sister wriggled into his best mate’s lap. He looked ready to hex Harry (friend or no) when he stifled a groan into Ginny’s hair.

“They’re happy, stop moaning – plus I don’t think duelling with Harry would be a good idea, Ron. Even if it is over your little sister’s virtue.” Hermione pointed out, taking Ron’s wand out of his hand and putting it on the table in the lavish compartment.

“Virtue?” Ginny questioned, it’s definition hitting her in a flush of crimson embarrassment. “Hermione: head, gutter.” She giggled.

“Ginny, please – don’t laugh, just sit nice and still for a minute.” Harry winced, shuffling beneath her, “You have a bony bum, and you’re hurting my…”

Ron opted to stare out of the window at that comment, he didn’t want to know – he really didn’t want to know about Harry and his baby sister, and Harry having an erec… Ron couldn’t finish the word in his head and shuddered instead.

“Are you cold, Ron? You’re practically next to the engine in this carriage – why are you shivering?” Neville asked as he came through the door. “Wow! This would be worth being head boy for! Shame the Death Eaters demolished the position of heads, and the prefects too.” A huge appliqué Hogwart’s crest was hung on the wall, enchanted gems glistening as the late afternoon sun caught them; rubies for Gryffindor, emeralds for Slytherin, Sapphires for Ravenclaw, Amber for Hufflepuff. The seats were beautifully embroidered with each of the individual emblems, the school ties sewn in pairs (Slytherin/Gryffindor, Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff) and were being used as tiebacks for the uniform-grey curtains.

“Did anyone get any qualifications this year?” Hermione asked, realising she hadn’t taken her NEWTs.

“No, nobody did. No OWLs, no NEWTs, no end of term tests – not so much as a spelling test in Herbology for the plant names!” Neville replied, sitting down next to Hermione.

“Hmm… I might have to go back and sit them, I don’t want to go for a job and to be turned away for not having basic qualifications. I’ll send an owl to Hogwarts asking about it next week.” Hermione said, mentally flicking through her diary for a free date.

“Why not this week?” Harry asked.

“Things to do, people to see.” Hermione said cryptically.

Ginny raised one red eyebrow and smiled. Person to do, things to forget about was more accurate! Ginny and Hermione had spent the previous night catching up on a bit of girl talk – being surrounded by boys (Ginny’s brothers and Harry) wasn’t good for a girly chat well into the night. Ginny had finally got Hermione to tell all – and she’d done it without veritasserum too!

“Oh? Harry, where are you living this summer?” Neville asked, like the other males in the carriage, he’d missed the look between the two young women.

“I think I’ll spend a little while at the burrow, helping out with… things. Then I’ll ask Molly to help with some house-spells and get number twelve looking better and move in there.” Harry said, he hadn’t thought much further, but perhaps Bill would help in getting Mrs. Black and the Black family tree removed from the walls.

The compartment door opened and a blur shot in, obviously a disillusionment charm. “Hide me! Mother is driving me mad with fussing over me!” Draco moaned, shuffling under the seat that had the most legs in front of it.

Not five seconds later, Lady Malfoy popped her head around the door. “Oh! Good afternoon! Have you seen Draco? He needs to take his medicine, and has vanished! I don’t want him becoming more ill!” she said, looking around the compartment, as if her son would suddenly appear.

“We haven’t seen him – but if we do we’ll send him your way? Where are you on the train?” Hermione asked, the lie untraceable in her voice.

“Oh, would you? Lucius and I are in the catering carriage – its nice and quiet in there; thank-you, miss Granger.” Narcissa said sweetly before turning and going back to her husband.

Ron kicked his heels into Malfoy’s shins “that’s three you owe us, Ferret!”

***

Hermione had eventually convinced Draco to go and drink his foul tasting healing potions – he was rather weakened and needed them, he was just a bit too old for sitting with Mummy and Daddy and being fussed over – especially when quiet and sleep would do him the world of good.

The train arrived on time, wizarding parents standing on platform nine-and-three-quarters. The other Weasley’s had opted to take a carriage to themselves and followed their Matriarch’s orders as they got off the train.

“So, ‘Mione, where you living this summer?” asked Ron, tact not being his strong point.

“Oh, with someone I know…” she said, avoiding the subject and walking through the wall into the muggle world. Apparating, flooing and portkeys were banned for the moment while the Ministry got a handle on things – everyone was either going home by broom, enchanted muggle vehicles or muggle cars.

A loud whistle rang around the platform, heads turned to a tanned young man with two inch blonde spiked hair, black leather trousers, a short-sleeved black dress shirt and a floor-length black cotton waistcoat.

“Miah!” he shouted, black nails apparent as he cupped his hands around his mouth as he called.

“Bartholomew!” Hermione said, walking briskly toward the foreboding young man.

Hermione, Harry, Ron, Neville and just about everyone else who had just come through the barrier gaped in awe as Hermione strolled over and hugged him.

“She’s hugging him!” Neville said, stating the obvious.

“She hugs all her friends.” Ron said, turning to face Neville.

“She doesn’t try to eat their tonsils, though.” Ginny laughed as Ron turned around with a speed that should have surely given him whiplash. “Come on, lets split them up before they do things in public that should only be done behind closed doors.”

Harry, Ron, Neville and (surprisingly) Draco followed the red-head’s lead and went to greet the couple as they broke apart for a moment.

“Thank the Lord you’re safe! I’ve been so worried! Especially after you told me everything about this war thing and all the spells and the damage they can cause!” murmured the young man. If people thought he was frightening from a distance, they had more of a shock if they got closer. His baby blue eyes were encircled with black eyeliner and mascara, three bars spanned the width of his left eyebrow, one on the right. His right ear had five piercings, the left had two. More alarmingly (especially for the magical) he had two visible tattoos; a tribal band encircled his upper right arm, a Celtic cross on the left.

“I’m fine! I’m safe!” Hermione said before his black-painted fingers brushed her hair out of her face and brought her closer for another kiss.

“I wouldn’t walk past a magnet, if I were you.” Commented Draco with a sneer.

“Platinum isn’t magnetic.” Was the haughty reply. “Will we get some introductions, Miah?”

“Oh! Erm, this is Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy.” Hermione said pointing to each in turn, the other man shaking hands with each of them.

“Good afternoon, I’m Bartholomew, most people call me Thol, nice and short to say.” He shrugged, not letting go of Hermione.

“Short for what, exactly?” Draco asked, recognising Thol’s attitude as aristocratic – but was he just posh or was there a title there. He looked up into the six foot six high face, waiting for an answer.

“Bartholomew Zacharias York-Windsor, and if you’re being picky, it’s VII.” He replied, recognising the snob in Draco – reminding him of his brat of a little brother. “You think after seven generations, that they’d come up with a new name – wouldn’t you?” he muttered, tenderly stroking Hermione’s back.

“Talking of generations, how’s your Father?” Hermione said, snuggling into his sculpted chest.

Thol ran his tongue bar around his teeth as he thought of his answer, “A tad cross with me, he said that the next Viscount shouldn’t wear eyeliner.” He looked down at Hermione, smirking, “He think’s you’re the best thing since sliced bread – he’s waiting for you to ‘straighten me out’ and have me acting ‘normal’.”

“Viscount?!” Draco exclaimed, understanding why the other young aristocrat’s Father was angry – he’d be hexed if he came home looking like… that!

“I introduced you to eyeliner!” Hermione giggled, “Oh, you didn’t tell him that, did you?”

Ginny had noticed the tongue stud and smirked, she knew where that tongue stud had been… maybe Harry would do that too, she wasn’t ready (or legally allowed) to go all the way with her boyfriend, but a bit of oral pleasure sounded… well, Hermione had given a pretty intense description of orgasm. Ginny also knew where his other tattoos were – especially the feather on his (very) lower abdomen. Hermione had licked that tattoo, and the… the… thingy… next to it. Hermione had apparently done more than lick it.

Ginny moved to whisper to Draco, “See, all you had to do was grow your hair, use too much hair gel, dress all in black, get tattoos, wear eyeliner and be nice.” Draco sneered at Ginny, wondering when she’d learnt about his crush on the know it all.

“So?” Hermione said softly to Ginny.

“I like your rebellious streak!” she giggled.

***

“Lovely to meet you all, but it’s a long drive home, and I’d like to get there before evening meal.” Thol said, shaking everyone’s hand again.

“Which one?” Hermone asked as they walked away.

“York, Dad’s in the London house – we have the mansion to ourselves until Thursday.” Thol said, wiggling metallic-encrusted brows, running the tongue bar back over his top teeth. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and clicked the button. The indicators flashed on a scarlet sports car.

“A Ferrari?!” Harry said, gaping.

“F430, Dad got me her for my eighteenth birthday. She’s two now, but God she’s amazing.” Thol said, stroking the bonnet.

“Thol, of you had a choice: me or the car, which one would you take?” Hermione asked, her arms folded over her chest.

“Are you naked?” Thol grinned cheekily, “Or even better, naked over the bonnet?”

“Oh, you’d only spend the next three hours afterwards washing it and polishing it to remove all the… fluid.” Hermione stated, not even flushing.

“You know me too well.” He said, pecking her on the cheek as she started whispering to Ginny. “Want to sit in?” He offered, opening the door for Harry to take the driver’s seat.

***

After Arthur arrived, Thol spent more time explaining the complicated prestige car to him than with Hermione. Arthur was fascinated and gladly invited Thol and Hermione to visit the Burrow in the next week so he could have a good look at it. Thol dubiously accepted, not sure he wanted the tinkering wizard playing with his baby – but this crazy family were important to his girlfriend, so he’d be nice.

Lucius wasn’t impressed with this Viscount-heir’s clothing, tattoos or multiple piercings. And especially not impressed with the screaming, roaring ‘music’ coming from the red thing.

“Sorry to go, but it’s a fair drive to York, and I’m going to hit rush hour traffic at this rate and be late – I don’t mean to be rude, but we’re going to have to go.” Thol said politely, taking Hermione’s bag and putting it into the boot, before opening the passenger side door for her.

“Oh, see you soon! I can’t wait to have a look at her! Isn’t she a wonderful contraption!” Arthur said, a beaming smile plastered to his face.

“Bye!” Hermione said as Thol turned the key in the ignition.

“Bloody Hell! That sounds like an angry dragon! Is that what all muggle cars sound like?” Ron said, blinking as the scarlet vehicle’s engines thundered.

“No, it’s the muggle version of a Firebolt – goes as fast too.” Harry replied, salivating over the car. “And it costs about treble the price of the new Firebolt.”

“Count Dracula is certainly a rich bloke, isn’t he?” Ron commented, not understanding why Harry wasn’t blinking, the car was a bit scary looking and made too much noise. “How close do you think they are? Just friends?”

Ginny giggled, walking away – she knew exactly what Hermione had done with him, and wasn’t about to risk the wrath of her overprotective brother and boyfriend by telling them. She wasn’t prepared to tell them that Hermione and Thol had been together since last summer either.





And this is what she looks like:
http://www.russpage.net/wp-content/uploads/2007/01/Ferarri%20F430%20Red.jpg

Almost £139’000!!!! (and if a galleon is £5, that makes it 27’800 galleons!) If you take the US dollar to be £0.48 (2/11/07 conversion rate from google) then that makes it: approximately $290’000!

I’m putting the price of the new Firebolt at 9’000 galleons (that’s approx £45’000. USA $93’750).