Teenage Girls and Hogwarts' Letters by luvscharlie


"Any astronomer can predict with absolute accuracy just where every star in the universe will be at 11:30 tonight. He can make no such prediction about his teenage daughter."-- James T. Adams


Ron entered the kitchen, whistling a cheerful tune.

"You're certainly in a good mood this evening," Hermione said smiling at her husband.

"Of course. Rosie and Hugo are home for the hols and— Bloody hell! Already? HUGO!"

"Ron, what are you shouting about?" He pointed his finger at the window where an owl was perched with a parchment attached to its leg.

"HUGO!"

"Whatcha shoutin' 'bout, Dad?"

Ron started berating their son instantly, and Hermione caught snippets of the conversation as she broke the seal on the parchment and began to read.

"Only halfway through the year… already fifteen owls… not even the twins… in such a short time."

"I broke Uncle George's record for most owls sent home before Christmas hols? Whoa!" Hugo was unable to contain his excitement.

Hermione, convinced her eyes were playing tricks on her, read the letter for a third time to be quite certain she had read it correctly. "Hugo, go to your room," she said standing.

"What's my punishment?" he asked warily.

"You're not being punished."

Hugo looked skyward. "Could this day get any better, I ask you?"

"ROSE WEASLEY! GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!" Hermione shouted up the stairway.

"The letter—Rosie? No. Seriously?" Ron chuckled. "I didn't think she had it in her."

"You find this humorous?" Hermione looked at her husband with annoyance clearly evident on her face.

"A bit," Ron said trying to contain the smile that was causing the corners of his mouth to twitch in amusement. "Nice to know there's a little of me in there somewhere, you know?"

"Well, let me assist you in wiping that smug look from your face. Read the last paragraph." She pushed the parchment under his nose.

Ron's Cheshire-grin faded in an instant, to be replaced by a look of complete horror. His eyes widened. He choked on his tea, spewing it across the table, as the words tumbled out in an incoherent stream. "Astronomy Tower! Snogging! Broom Cupboard! Half-dressed! SCORPIUS-FUCKING-MALFOY!"

Knowing him as she did, Hermione had surreptitiously removed the wand from his pocket before handing him the parchment. His arms flailed when he reached for it and found it missing. He muttered under his breath as he searched wildly for his missing wand. "A fucking Malfoy! A bloody fucking Malfoy of all people!"

"Before you go over to the Malfoys' to murder their son, don't you think we should speak to our daughter first?"

"What? Speak to our—oh. Yeah, I suppose we should."

"Can't," said Hugo from the doorway. "She's not here. Left out her window about an hour or so ago."

"Don't be ridiculous, Hugo," admonished Hermione. "Her room is on the third floor and she left her broom at Hogwarts over the holidays."

"Didn't say she left on her broom, did I? Scorpius Malfoy was on a broom outside her window."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"You didn't ask."

Fin.

A/N: Originally written for hermioneldws on Live Journal's prompt of childish behavior. There was a 500 word limit.