Damn Car
Viopathartic
A/N:
Enjoy =)
Harry and Hermione were in their cell, again, after Greg had all but pushed the two back inside. For some strange reason, Sanders seemed angry at them. Maybe it was because Ashley had sung the lyrics of Hit Me Baby One More Time as they walked back from the interrogation room. Maybe it was because she also took on the form of Jane and immediately ran into the arms of "Master Harry" in the presence of Greg. Or maybe it was because Harry, as José, had intentionally smacked Sanders' bum on the way out.
Who knows.
I need a drink, Sanders thought miserably, dragging himself from his desk to the refreshment lounge.
"Hey Greg!"
He opted to feign deafness but considering the fact that the person was five feet away from him...
"Yes, Patricia?"
"Are we any closer to the trial?"
Greg reached for the handle of the fridge and opened it, ducking his head so that he could take a look inside. It was nearly barren-only three bottles of pop and one container of some questionable food was in there. His mum's cooking. "What trial?"
"Trial for Harry Potter," Patricia answered in an obvious manner.
He slammed the fridge door shut with his foot, and popped the cap of the soda. Greg vigorously shook his head, "I never had the time! I had to deal with this kid's smart alec attitude, his schizophrenia, his dramatic "oh damn I'm depressed,' mood, and his split personalities. Do you honestly think I had time to book a trial?
"Besides," he threw his dinner onto a nearby table, "we couldn't find a trace of blood on the fucking sword. No one has even paid attention to the case because they thought it was a joke. No attorney wants to defend Potter...I bet his own mother doesn't even want to!"
Greg took a deep breath. "This boy is not a killer. He's just mad."
He sat down and prepared to eat the meatloaf meal that his mum had packed him. Greg turned around, finger on the lid. "Evans. What is it now?"
Patricia was still there, deciding on how she should break the news. Sanders seemed to not want to do anything.
"Evans," Greg said in a warning tone.
"The Grangers are in the interrogation room. I think you have Hermione Granger under your watch?"
Greg blanched, much to the confusion of Patricia, profusely shaking his head.
"Her parents! I have to deal with that sicko and her perverted 'master', now you're making me meet her parents?"
Patricia frowned. "I'm not making you. You're the one in charge here."
Greg's expression lightened up. "Oh. Right."
He discreetly got up, whistling casually. "Well, I'm going to take my lunch break...didn't eat anything."
"Lunch break at 6? Why didn't you take it during say...lunch time? Besides, your mother packed you some dinner."
"Oh, well...I'm still hungry. Also I had to visit my pet at the hospital. My bird was terribly sick--spouting up hairballs and--"
Patricia skeptically raised an eyebrow. "Interesting bird you got there. I didn't know birds had hair."
"Well...he had a cat as a mother and a bird as a father...one of the rarest hybrids. Yes, that's it."
"You've got no balls," Patricia stated bluntly.
Greg, taking some offense to her comment, thought out loud about his options. "Hmm...Interrogate the Grangers and become severely brain damaged or let Feruton be corrupted?"
No need for any more thinking.
"I think Feruton's free. Get him to do it," Greg finally said before rushing out of the refreshment room, leaving his mum's meatloaf alone and sad.
The constable walked down the corridor to fetch Hermione Granger from the Cell With No Letter. When he was a few feet away, the two convicts' conversation floated into his ears.
"...right, so all you have to do is make believe that you have this terrible cramp...honestly, you guys have an easier life. Imagine, during the first day, you feel as if everyone's going to know. It's disgusting, revolting--"
A boy's voice, "Alright, alright. It's bad enough that I have to get my period but to hear the details--"
WHAT? But...Potter's a boy! That's not possible, unless...
The innocent bystander gagged.
Hermione's ears perked at the sound. "Wait? What's that sound?"
Harry shrugged, "Sounded like a cat."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Idiot." She peered through the prison bars of their cell. Funny: she was already used to being contained.
"Um...officer?" She found him on the floor, looking as if he might throw up.
"Sorry," the man coughed up some spit, "you...Hermione Granger?"
"Yes."
"Mr. Feruton wants to interrogate you with your parents," the officer said, getting up from the floor.
"My PARENTS?"
"Yes." Harry appeared beside Hermione and grasped the jail bars. The officer immediately turned red, unlocked the door, and muttered a quick "good day".
Harry and Hermione glanced at each other before shrugging and walking down the corridor.
Strange, you would think a murderer and a person who kicked an officer in the gonads would get escorts.
"Remus must have told my parents..."
The boy glanced at her. "Are you worried?"
Hermione paused and then said, "Strange as it is, I'm not worried. This has been fun, I admit."
Harry chuckled. What an improvement.
Before opening the door to the main lobby of the station, she turned to Harry, "Remember, it's your time of the month."
Harry glanced behind him then to his friend, grinning sinisterly.
"Got any tampons?"
_____
Greg groaned. For the first time, he actually came back early from his break. Great, now he'll have to deal with Grangers and Potter, who had evidently tagged along.
He put his car keys into his coat and checked for his pepper spray.
It's there.
A woman and a man, looking quite normal, stood beside Feruton. Once the Granger girl had entered, the couple immediately approached her. Instead of hugging her, they met half way.
"Hermione! I thought you told us you were going to get Harry out of jail, not be arrested yourself!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed, though she sounded more surprised then angry. Greg observed and swore he saw Mr. Granger hide a smirk.
"Hello Harry," he greeted. Harry grinned, something evil hidden in this simple gesture.
Greg had an inkling that they were all from Planet Evil.
He approached them, purposely pushing Bradley away with his elbow. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, my name is--"
Bradley snickered, "Sanders? I thought your bird was coughing up hairballs!"
Greg turned red before clearing his throat. "He's better."
"I thought birds don't have hair," Harry muttered to Hermione.
"They don't. Greg here was probably trying to get out of executing his duty as a government official. Poor work ethics, I tell you," Bradley laughed.
Though Harry was not particularly fond of Sanders, he was much better than this Feruton fellow.
"Hello, my name is Bradley Feruton." He stuck his hand out at Hermione who took it.
"You seem too lovely to be in jail, Miss Granger." Feruton winked at Hermione. She blinked, surprised at his obvious flirting.
"I don't think there's a need for you to be involved, Mr. Pothead--"
"It's Potter, Mr. Fuckhead," Harry said through gritted teeth as he glared at Feruton.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.
Harry pretended to look embarrassed. "Sorry, it's this PNS thing---"
"--PMS!" His friend hissed.
"Right. PS. With the M between it."
"What?" Mrs. Granger looked dazed.
"C'mon, Potter," Greg muttered, grabbing Harry by the arm and pulling him away from the group.
The two watched from a distance. Bradley was clearly enjoying himself as he closely stood next to Hermione. He was laughing at his own joke; the Grangers were uneasily exchanging looks.
Me no likey.
Harry muttered under his breath, but then sighed in relief once he realized that Hermione was uncomfortable around this Feruton guy.
He tilted his head and directed his question towards Greg who was also gazing on the four. "Got a tampon?"
"No," Greg answered grumpily, not even processing his question.
"Damn."
5...4...3--
"What did you just ask me?"
"Got a napkin?"
"Oh," Greg said. "No, I don't."
"...so...who's that bastard again?" Harry asked grudgingly, leaning against the wall with his harms crossed. Unconsciously, Greg took on the same stance and glared at Bradley with upmost loathing.
"Bradley Feruton."
"Feruton. Sounds like a snob."
"Doesn't it," Greg flatly agreed.
Harry pushed himself off the wall once he saw Bradley putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder.
"That's it. Bathroom break. Goodbye."
He stomped over to where the four were standing, yanked Hermione's arm, and dragged her to the women's bathroom.
Bradley stretched an arm out, trying to stop them from leaving. "Hey, you can't go in--"
"Sorry, love. Female problems," said Harry nastily before slamming the door shut.
Once the door was closed and the lock was in place,
"Harry, what in the world--"
"He was too close. He was supposed to be interrogating you but he was touching you! Idiot!"
Hermione looked at him peculiarly. "Are you...jealous?"
"No! I'm just PNSing--"
"PMSing."
"Right, its not like--"
"Harry, you're a boy."
Both of them blinked.
Harry stuttered, "Y-yeah...well, that's beside the point--"
Harry was interrupted by Hermione pouncing on him and gluing her lips to his.
-----
A good five minutes later, Harry and Hermione came back into the lobby, looking quite disheveled.
They were both grinning.
"Ah, Hermione," Bradley glanced between the boy and girl, "I think you can go home..."
She ignored the man and turned to her parents.
"Actually, can I stay?"
Greg was wondering why in bloody hell she'd want to stay here.
But the Grangers smiled and nodded. Harry jabbed the air as if he just won something in the lottery.
CRAZY CRAZY CRAZY!
"Oh, of course," Mrs. Granger pulled her aside and whispering, "I see you're having fun. But Remus will send for someone to get the both of you."
"Yes, thank you!" Hermione hugged her mum as if she had just received the best Christmas gift ever.
Bradley looked like he wanted to smack himself just to make sure he was awake, but he didn't.
So, Greg did it for him.
Check out No More Weird Guys and the newest chapter of A Club!
And Happy New Year!
Le