Highway to Hell

            “Blood – Bloody hell!” Ron cried as he slid and his seatbelt left a red welt in his neck.  “Bloody hell, bloody hell, bloody hell, bloody hell…” he repeated over and over again, as if that would free him from the situation at hand.

            Harry was teaching Hermione how to drive a car.

           

            Ten years after the Final Battle and one month after Harry and Hermione confessed their undying love for each other, to Ron’s unending amusement, the trio again found themselves staring Death in the face.  They were well into their mid-twenties and now that the threat of an Evil Dark Lord aiming for Global Domination was gone, Harry figured it was high time Hermione learned how to drive a muggle car.  It would do them well, since the three of them now lived in a small house in the suburbs just outside of Muggle London.  Ron flat out refused to learn how to drive the “insane deathmobiles”, even though Harry argued it was infinitely safer than what they did with the flying car in 2^nd year.  Ron countered by saying “Well, our car bloody FLEW.  If some crazy drunk muggle comes careening into us, we could have flown out of the way.  Driving a nonmagic car is mad!”

            It appeared that Ron was right.

            “Signal left, Hermione! No no no that’s not the signal – “ Harry groaned from Hermione’s right in the passenger seat as Hermione activated the hazard lights. 

            “I’m sorry!” Hermione gasped.  She turned them off and signaled left. 

            “Now you have to turn left!  Hermione!  Left!!” Harry clutched the passenger door handle until his knuckles turned white.  Hermione sped past the left turn.

            “Sorry! I thought I was too far past it to turn anymore!” Hermione said, now calmly shutting off her blinker lights.  The cars behind them beeped angrily.

            “Hermione?  Ever think of driving the Knight Bus?  Because you’re well fit for that job!” Ron moaned, clutching his stomach.  He was seated in the back of the car, clinging to his seatbelt while trying to figure out if he could stretch a second one over him as well.

            “Slow DOWN, Hermione!  That’s a hill!”

            “I’m only going – oh, I am going rather fast.” Hermione glanced at the speedometer.

            “SLOW DOWN!” Harry and Ron shrieked.  Too late.

            “AHHHHHHHHHH!” The men screamed as Hermione launched over the hill and they were airborne for at least 3 seconds.  Three seconds of fear unrivaled even by any threat Voldemort had shoved in their faces.

            “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.  “You two scream like girls.”

           

            Harry, seated next to her in the front passenger seat, stared at her incredulously.  Ron was a light shade of green. 

            “Muggle…cars…are mad…” Ron grunted through his teeth.  “Who agreed to let Hermione drive us to the cinema?”

            “I didn’t ask you to come in the car with us.” Hermione pointed out.

            “Like I would leave Harry to plummet to his death alone…” Ron muttered under his breath.

            “What was that?”

            “Nothing.” Harry answered for him, with a grin.  “Just keep your eyes on the road, Hermy.”

            “Don’t call me that!” Hermione replied angrily.  She turned to him and glared.  Harry responded by planting a soft kiss on his girlfriend’s lips.

            “AHH!” Ron clutched at anything clutchable as Hermione swerved off the side of the road and a tire bumped the sidewalk.  “Are you INSANE, Harry!?”

            Hermione blushed.  “Harry, I need to concentrate.”  She focused back on the street, where she ran head first into a traffic cone closing off the far left lane.  It flew in the air and landed with a thud on a police car.

            “If you say so.” Harry said, sitting back and holding onto his seat for dear life.

            “Harry, you’re my best mate but if you distract the madwoman again I’ll have to kill you with my bare hands.  Assuming I still have them after this trip to Hell. If I don’t, I’ll just beat you to death with my bloody stumps.”

            “Ron, stop whining.” Hermione scolded irritably as a poor defenseless trashcan fell victim to the new Volkswagen.

            Then they heard the siren.  Harry, Ron, and to their indescribable horror, Hermione all craned their necks backwards to see the police car Hermione had assaulted with a parking cone right on their tail.  Hermione panicked.

            “What do I do!?” she asked, eyes back on the road, but flickering up at the rearview mirror every two seconds.

            “PLEASE PULL OVER TO THE SIDE OF THE ROAD.”  The officer from the police car instructed through a megaphone.

            “Do what the man says, Hermione.” Harry told her.  “Just slow to a stop and hit the hazard lights.

            Hermione floored the brake and the two guys nearly flew through the windshield.  She pushed the hazard lights and faced them, surprised to find them doubled over and clutching their stomachs.

            “What happened?”

            “I think I my spleen split in two .”  Harry informed her.

            “Two?  Well can I have one?  I think mine was just reduced to Floo Powder.”  Ron groaned.

            The police officer knocked at Hermione’s window.  He motioned for Hermione to roll it down.  She looked terrified.

            “Hermione, roll it down.” Harry reached over and pushed the button for her.  The officer was strikingly handsome, with short dark hair and a strong chin.  He had his arms crossed in a way that suggested he was well-muscled.  The badge on his uniform read “Officer Wald”. He looked at Hermione in the driver’s seat.  She squirmed, never really having gotten in “official” trouble before.

            “Ma’am, did you know that you were going twenty miles over the speed limit?”

            “Umm...umm…”

            “And did you know you broke at least a dozen traffic rules in the last ten minutes?”

            “Uhh…”

            “And did you know – “ The Wald held up the orange traffic cone.  “ – You almost clocked me over the head with this?”

            “I’m – I’m – “

            “We’re very sorry.  Really.”  Harry offered lamely.

            “License and registration, please.”

            Hermione finally shook off her funk and reached over Harry’s lap into the glove compartment.  Harry thought he saw her mouth utter something, but he figured Hermione was just trying to wet her mouth after it had gone painfully dry.  She pulled out the registration and took her driving permit from her pocket.   The officer inspected it closely then looked at Hermione.

            “Hm, Edgeware, eh?” To everyone’s surprise, Wald smiled.  “I used to live there.  Nice place.”

            Harry and Ron stared at Hermione, who smiled weakly and nodded mutely.

            “Twenty-two?  Wow, I honestly would not have guessed you were a day over 20.”  Wald said.  Ron coughed and Harry raised an eyebrow.  The police officer was getting a little too casual. 

            “Why thank you.”  Hermione’s smile grew brighter.  The Wald cleared his throat and stood a little straighter, as if making sure the sunlight hit his shiny badge at just the right angle for Hermione to appreciate it.  Harry glared at the tall dark and handsome man putting the moves on his girlfriend.  He cracked his knuckles unconsciously.

            “This is a great picture of you.  But really, it doesn’t do you justice.”  Wald went on.  Ron scowled at him and pantomimed for Harry gagging on his own finger.  Harry grinned.

            “Thank you very much.  I think I was tired that day.”  Hermione paused.  “I was out the previous night at the Opera.”

            “You like Opera, then?’  Wald smiled so widely that Harry thought the corners of his mouth would meet at the back of his head.  He resisted the urge to punch out each one of his perfect white teeth.

            “Yes, very much.”

            “I love Opera too!”

            “Ahem.”  Harry said, having had enough of the flirting.  “She happens to have a bo– “

            Hermione discreetly reached over and pinched Harry’s leg.  He winced and stared at her, but she did not meet his eye.  Instead she seemed to be making playful eyes at Wald.  Harry fumed.

            “That’s wonderful.  You don’t meet many strong, handsome men into the Opera these days.”  Hermione said, running her hands smoothly through her curly hair.  Wald’s mouth seemed to go dry.  She found a scrap of paper and wrote a phone number on it.  She passed it to Wald, who looked thrilled.

            “Yes, well, how would you like to – “

            “Excuse me!” Harry said, unable to take any more.  “Our ticket, please!?  A fine?  I’ll serve some jail time.  Whatever.  Can we just do this, now!?”

            Wald looked at Harry like he was an annoyance, a loose thread on his perfectly pressed uniform or a smudge on his shiny boots.  “Oh, don’t worry about the ticket.  I’ll let it slide, just watch out okay?”

            “Oh yes sir.  Thank you, sir!” Hermione smiled charmingly.  The officer pocketed Hermione’s number and handed back her permit and registration.  He tipped his hat and and winked.  Then he returned to his squad car and drove away.

            There was silence in the car for a few seconds.

            “Bloody hell.  There are just so many things wrong with what just happened.” Ron piped up.

            “Okay, let’s go.”  Hermione started to turn on the engine again.

            “Wait!  Hold on.”  Harry wanted some answers.  “Edgeware!?  Since when did we live in Edgeware?”  Harry asked.

            “Um….I may have altered my license slightly.” Hermione mumbled.  She handed him the card and he stared at it.  Sure enough it read their address as Edgeware, which was at least twenty miles from where they really lived. 

            “Elyse McDonald?” Harry read.

            “Leave me alone.  I like that name.”

            “Born in 1985?  Since when?” Ron peeked at the card.  Hermione blushed.

            “Oh shut up.”

            As Harry and Ron watched, the words changed slowly into Hermione’s real information.  Hermione Granger.  Suburbs just outside of , born in 1980.

            “You’re one tricky witch, Hermione.”  Ron nodded in approval.  “What about the license plate?”

            “Modified that too.” Hermione blushed.  “It should be changing back right now.”

            “Damn.”

            “And what was all that about liking opera?” Harry demanded angrily.

            “I saw a flyer in his squad car and took a wild guess.”

“And that ‘strong and handsome’ bit?  Goo goo eyes?  Flirty hair-fling?”

            “Harry are you jealous?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.

            Harry mumbled something that sounded like “Practically rubbing on his chest…”

            “Oh Harry, as soon as I figured out he was flirting with me I saw the opportunity to get out of a traffic ticket.  It meant nothing!  And I definitely didn’t rub on his chest!”

            “I’ll bet he’s had his pecs done.” Harry grumbled.

            “Harry!”

            “He’s got nothing on our mate here though, eh?” Ron clapped Harry on the shoulder.  It was greatly appreciated, but Harry was still a little miffed.

            “Of course not.  Totally not my type, tall dark and handsome.  I go for short, pale, and homely.”

            Ron guffawed, which even Harry had to laugh at.

            “Are you okay?”  Hermione asked sincerely.  “Sorry, I just didn’t want to get in trouble.”

            “I suppose.  But we should have that cop reported!”  Harry said.  “That was the most unprofessional thing I have ever seen!”

            Hermione laughed.  “Well, let’s get going.”

            “Wait.” Harry leaned over and captured Hermione’s lips in his.  After thirty seconds, Ron kicked Harry’s seat.  “Stop it, you two.  Have some decency!”

            “Says the man who all but shagged on a park bench.” Harry rolled his eyes.  Instead of blushing, Ron looked rather proud of himself.

            “Okay, let’s go.”  Hermione shifted gears and stomped the gas.  They lurched forward.

            “I changed my mind.  Snog all you want.”  Ron gasped.

            “Don’t be silly.” Hermione smiled sweetly and they were off.

            Ten minutes later they arrived at the cinema.  Ron made a desperate grab for the door.

            “Wait! I have to parallel park!” Hermione called.

            “No way in Hell am I…”  Ron didn’t get to finish.  With one hand over his mouth and the other grasping his stomach he hobbled out of the car and bolted straight across the street for the restrooms.

            “Hermione, listen, why don’t I park..?”  Harry offered.

            “Don’t worry about it.”  Hermione turned on the signal lights and pulled in between two cars by the side of the road.  A perfect parallel park.  Three inches from the curb, bumpers equidistant between the other two cars.  Harry stared in awe.

            “What….what…how…?”

            “Oh please.  I’ve just been trying to get rid of Ron since we left the house.”  Hermione grinned.

            Harry gaped at his girlfriend.  “You nearly killed us all!”

            “It worked, didn’t it?  And we didn’t get in trouble, really.  That cop won’t be reporting us.”

            “Wait.”  Harry suddenly thought of something.  “You gave that horny old cop your number!”

            “Don’t worry about that.”

            “What?”

            “I gave him the number for Pizza Hut delivery.”

Harry had to admit.  She was clever.  Reckless and dangerous, but clever.  Creative.  She was a Gryffindor after all.  It made her…sexy.

            “So are you going to kiss me or not?”

            Yes, he bloody well was.

Note:  Inspiration for this story is credited to the fact that I myself suck at driving and its bugging me ^_^