Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter or Euro-Trip
Harry Doesn't Know
Chapter 5: We're Not Going To Berlin
[AN] Also, I know not many of you will be willing with the hlidays coming up, but I do need a beta. I've been doing it myself but I'm not sure if I'm the best for the job, so if your interested please say so! Thanks.
....
Hermione's head lay against the trunk of her favourite beech tree, with her favourite book, Hogwarts, A History propped up in her lap. Hermione sighed and closed the thick volume, finishing it for the 509th time.
"Beautiful day," said that same Ravenclaw sod that had talked to her at the graduation party, walking up from behind her. "Shouldn't you be spending the day with your friends?"
"Harry and Ron are in Berlin." she told him from the ground. She looked beautiful with the afternoon sun illuminating her chocolate eyes and wavy chestnut locks.
"That Harry guy is one mental bloke," commented the Ravenclaw, sitting down next to her. His sea blue eyes stared into hers intently.
"Why do you say that?" Hermione had yet to break the gaze.
"Because he hasn't asked you out yet," his hands snaked towards hers through the grass, "I mean if I had a beautiful, bright, and talented friend like you I would have definitely made my move by now."
Hermione broke the gaze and looked out into the tides of he lake, her mouth agape.
"Oh my god, why hasn't he asked me out yet?" She sounded perplexed with her eyebrows furrowed. "I mean the opportunities have been there, he just didn't make a move."
"Maybe it is time to stop waiting for him and give yourself to some one else." By now he was inches from her face, one hand placed on the side of her thigh. She focused on him with a seductive look, which made her muddy orbs darker.
"I guess predictable Harry is still hung up on Cho." She finished, touching the Ravenclaw's knee cap. Within a matter of seconds Hermione was laying flat on the moist green grass, the Ravenclaw on top and in between her legs kissing her with as much force as a raging Hippogriff.
....
"NOO!" Harry screamed, jumping so high he fell off the couch he had passed out on. He looked around, realigning his glasses. 'It was a dream,' he sighed in ease. 'A nightmare rather.'
"I'm never drinking again," Harry voiced out loud, wiping his mouth and climbing back onto the couch. Once resting safely on the couch, he put his head back and looked up. He was met with a dazzling baby blue sky. "What the hell?" he wondered lifting his head back up and looking around. Moving forestry were on both sides of his peripherals. "Ron, wake up," he said elbowing his snoring mate besides him.
"But I don't want to wear the pink one," he giggled in his sleep. 'Well I'm glad to see someone having a pleasant dream,' Harry thought rolling his eyes.
"RON!"
"Huh?" he voiced, his eyes snapping open and his head recoiling off the neck wrest. "Whoa, wild night," he groaned, stretching and cracking his back in his seat.
"You think? Notice anything a little off?" Harry questioned, raising his eyebrows at the still awakening Ron.
"Uh," Ron stood up from the couch and looked around, "uhh, what that hell?" The wind had picked up and was now tussling the standing Ron and Harry's hair. "Harry where the hell are we going?" Ron yelled, running over to the railing of the bus and looking down. Ron's eyes met the asphalt and white lines of the highway. Harry was currently trying to dig out Neville from the huge tub of footballs.
"Oh man, where are we?" asked Neville once he was free from the tank of black and red balls. He was in the fetal position holding his head like it would fall off at any moment.
"Good question!" roared Ron from the rail side.
"We don't know where we are, except that we are driving on the highway in the hooligans' bus." Explained Harry simply.
"Oh- uh, don't worry. If anything happens my Gran will find us." Neville said still on his knees holding his hands up as to calm down Ron.
....
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE QUIT?!" bellowed Neville's grandmother, shaking some poor innocent ticketer over the counter. "Where did he go?!" Her stuffed vulture's tail feathers were poking the young and pimpled ticketer in the face.
"P-pl-please miss, I d-don't know where he w-went." the boy squirmed. Congratulations to the ticketer, because he was about to get front row seats to Neville's Gran's coffee scented breath and pitbull temper.
"Well you better find out you little punk. And pull your pants up!"
....
Harry, Ron, and Neville descended the stairs down into the first floor of the bus and heard the sounds of loud voices, clinking bottles, and hard rock music.
"Hey you scallywags!" shouted one of the Hooligans, jumping up from his seat and shaking Harry's collar. Ron continued on his way, disentangling himself from the bottle holding bodies and looking for Bernie. He spotted him sitting at a table discussing something that sounded very important to his other co-supporters.
"Look, given the current geopolitical climate, all European countries should have a seat at the table." His listeners nodded their heads and took swigs from their beers, "Except those fucking Ities. I hate them Italian bastards, you know what I mean?" he said querying at some of his mates.
"Excuse me," interrupted Ron taking a seat next to him, five bottles were suddenly offered to him. Ron shook them off.
"Oh hello boyo!" said Bernie grinning at the tasselled haired Ron.
"Hi, uh what happened last night?"
Bernie laughed, "Ha, you got steamed up, pissed as a fart I tell ya, too much sauce son!" he finished winking at him. Ron looked sick. "Don't worry though, I came and got ya- so you wouldn't miss the trip!"
"W-what trip? Where are we going?" Ron was positively in shock. Might as well feed the tickets to Berlin to one of the hooligans.
"What do you mean, 'where are we going'?" Bernie laughed clapping Ron on the shoulder. "We're going to see the Mighty Reds through the frogs in Paris! Aren't we boys!" The bus cheered and raised their bottles in the air.
"Dear god," Ron got up and pushed his way to Harry and Neville who were sitting down next to a chattering man with bug eyes and a shirt that said, "KILL SOMETHING".
"So I tell the swamp donkey to sock it before I give her a trunky in her tradesman's entrance and have her lick me yard balls!" the man barked out and emptied his drink all in one chug. Neville was just staring at the man in shock. He hadn't a clue people could even fit those words in the same sentence. Harry was in awe.
"Wow. You guys are on a completely different level of swearing over here." The man next to him nodded his head, appreciating the comment.
"Harry? Neville? Harry, Neville we're going to Paris." Ron told them finally breaking through the barricade of bodies.
"Oh we know. Cesil told us." Harry motioned over to the bug eyed man. "Isn't this great? Hermione's in Paris!"
"Leigh's in Berlin. We're not going to Berlin. What are we gonna do? We need a plan." Ron finished spelling out the seriousness of the situation.
"Holy hell," said Neville looking up to Ron like he was the great wizard, Merlin, himself, "your acting like Harry. Predictable Harry."
"Hey," Harry warned at Neville sounding offended. "Ron relax, Paris is practically a suburb of Berlin. It's a nothing commute." Ron opened his mouth to respond before Harry cut him off going back into lecture mode, "That's why France and Germany have always been allies." Cesil nodded his head in confirmation, "Allies."
"What- are you still drunk?" Ron asked in disbelief. Harry tilted his head as if he was asking his subconscious the same question. Neville had his head lolled back against the window, passed out again (which made Harry proud to see him that sloshed).
"Okay, okay," said Ron, his fingers rubbing his temples and in very deep thought (something that was very foreign to Ron unless it was which dessert to eat first), "first thing in Paris we go to the airport and get tickets to Berlin. Agreed?"
"Agreed!" chanted both Harry and Cesil raising one beer and fist in the air together. Cesil emitted a loud belch. Ron only shook his head and clapped a hand to his forehead.
.....
Short chapter; because I knocked this out in less than thirty minutes, and I wanted to save the next adventure for another chapter. Oh yeah big reminder, *I do not have ANYTHING against Italians! That came directly out of Euro-Trip and only because I thought the whole "geopolitical climate" thing was funny. And trust me, I had to get permission from my girlfriend who is fully Italian. So I'm really, really, really, sorry if anyone was offended by my completely ridiculous sense of humour.
Anyway hope you enjoyed! Next chapter should be out relatively quick. All I'm doing is sitting in a small room while my brother is passed out from large amounts of morphine.
Happy Holidays!
XOXO