A Gryffindor Darkly - Prologue
For any readers in the U.S., my British friends let me know that a Heath Robinson machine is basically equivalent to a Rube Goldberg machine. Admittedly, I fear that most of my fellow Americans still won't know what I'm talking about unless they use some google-fu.
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The door to the Room of Requirement slipped silently open and soft footsteps made their way toward the young man seated at a table with a quill in his hand. She slipped her arms around his neck and leaned over his shoulder to glance at the many pieces of parchment he seemed to be sketching on. "Is that a Heath Robinson machine you're working on?"
"Hermione, what did you just say?"
"I asked if you were designing a Heath Robinson machine."
Harry blinked a few times and then asked, "What's a Heath Robinson machine?"
He doesn't know? She marveled. Then what was that he was sketching out?
"If you can't explain it, then don't worry about it. I'll check the Library in the morning."
"No, no. There's no need for that. I was just surprised, that's all. A Heath Robinson machine is any complex machine that accomplishes something very simple. They started as humorous drawings of comical ways to accomplish everyday tasks, but in recent times, people have actually begun try to make working versions. Daddy is an avid fan and likes to tinker about with a local club. They travel about putting their creations to the test in competition with other groups. He's taken me to a few of their meetings, but stopped after I tried making one at home by myself." She blushed a little at this admission.
Harry's eyes sparkled. "You mean you've made one of these Heath Robinson machines before?"
Hermione scowled prettily and blew a lock of hair away from her face. "Not one that worked. Stupid, sub-standard, rubber bands," she grumbled.
"I take it that means that the one you made 'almost' worked."
"Should, Harry. It should have worked. At six years old I didn't take into account that old rubber bands are more likely to snap under sustained tension."
"Could you design and build one now?"
"Well... I suppose so. With magic I would think it would be even easier."
"Excellent."
"Why?"
"I'm working on, well, I suppose you could say it's an experiment." He showed her his rough sketches. "I have some half formed ideas if you want to have a look them."
"Sure." She smiled at her boyfriend as she took the proffered parchment - she loved when he used his intelligence.
Studying the rather crude drawings more closely for several moments before turning to face him, "Harry, you do realize this is more a Wile E. Coyote Plan To Catch The Road Runner than a Heath Robinson machine, don't you?"
"Umm... Road Runner?"
"Right... no cartoons growing up. I remember now." She sighed. "Well, I suppose I can conjure something like duct tape or perhaps something a little bit stronger. At home, Daddy uses something similar called Gorilla Tape. He says that stuff would tear the stripes off of a zebra if given the chance.
"What do you think about the artificial lightning spell coupled with the broken glass and vinegar?"
"It all looks promising, but I don't see how you're going to get it to hit your target with the lightning spell. The Great Hall is filled with metal and something is bound to act like a lightning rod and redirect it."
"Ah, but that's why I'm using the blocks of congealed water. Once the spell breaks, they should drench whomever they land on."
"Duct taped to the wall, severe electrical burns, blunt force trauma, a magically reinforced chain connected to the castle gate system designed to pull a body zipping all through the castle at breakneck speed, and summoned toads to top it off... My, my, my I think I may actually feel sorry for the dummies you're going to test your experiment on." Hermione opined; a picture of complete innocence.
"Dummies. Right..." Harry coughed lightly.
"HARRY!"
"I promise. No dummy that doesn't deserve it will be used."
"Promise me you'll be careful and not get into trouble."
"If everything goes according to plan, then there shouldn't be any problem. Harry smiled his most charming smile, the one he only used for her when they were alone. "You are so brilliant, I could kiss you!"
"Is there any reason not to kiss me?"
Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "No, not really."
"Then by all means, do get on with it." She grinned as he closed the distance.
*Knock*Knock*knock*
Harry opened the door.
"Is Herms in there? Some midget First Year is complaining about something."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You don't need Hermione, you're a prefect too, Ron. Why don't you take care of it?"
He smiled blithely. "Too busy, 'a course. Right in the middle of an absolutely ripper chess match with Seamus. If I leave it for too long, then I forfeit. 'Sides, I'm sure Herms doesn't mind. She likes helping midgets."
Behind the door, Harry could just barely see his girlfriend's face out of the corner of his eye. She looked furious. Her normally pretty face was covered in a scowl and her eye twitched slightly every time Ron Weasley shortened her name. Harry knew that if he didn't get rid of the red headed moron quickly then Hermione's patience would very shortly run out and she might finally give into the desire to try out her new canary spell.
"Well, is Herms in there or isn't she?" he demanded.
"I haven't seen Herms around here. Maybe check the Library or something. Bye now!" He took a half step back and swiftly closed the door. He had shortened Hermione Jane Granger's given name... no good could come of this, he was certain. Taking a fortifying deep breath, he turned to his right, fully expecting a verbal tongue lashing, a magical punishment, or both.
Instead, he got a passionate kiss. Hermione was obviously pleased with his actions on her behalf. He made a mental note to include Ron in his payback plans for the mental anguish he had caused Hermione.
"You are a wonderful man," she breathed after breaking the kiss.
"I have a wonderful woman, so it's only natural, but there is one thing I just don't understand."
"Why you don't get a bollocking for shortening my name?"
"Uh huh..."
"Simple. You're my boyfriend and he-" she kissed him again, "-is not."
"So I can use a nickname for you?"
"Naturally, I prefer my own name to anything else, but with the right person, in other words, only with you, I don't mind so much."
"How about 'Mione?"
Visibly mulling over the term of endearment, she finally declared, "It isn't awful, but anyone who is NOT Harry James Potter gets a bowel loosening hex for using it or any other nickname. I won't stand for anyone else doing it aside from you."