Hermione's Little Brother

Hermione called, out of the blue.

“Haaaaaarry!!” she sang, “where are you? I miss you!”

“We’ve just turned back into the highway,” Harry cooed.

“Bart’s had an accident!” Ron yelled across the joystick, “A DISGUSTING Accident!”

“Is Barty okay?” Hermione continued, “Let me talk to him!”

Harry gave Ron a look before passing his mobile to Bart, who Ron made side behind Harry this time.

Bart gleefully snatched the phone, “Sister Hermione?”

“Ba-aarty!!” Hermione’s voice was so loud; the boys in front could hear it.

“Hello, Sister Hermione!” Bart exclaimed happily, not seeming to mind that his name got shortened to something somewhat comical, “the accident was quite accidental.”

Ron shuddered, remembering what happened to him just an hour ago.

“Oh dear,” Hermione’s voice droned, “Are you okay, Barty?”

Bart went mumble mumble mumble, and Hermione replied with a drone drone drone. But the traffic on the highway was too loud to listen to their entire conversation as the silver Convertible sped down the fast lane.

When Bart finally hung up, he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Sister Hermione said you were the best guy in the world,” he smiled, handing the phone back to Harry, “I told her I realised already.”

“He’s the best player in the world,” Ron snorted, shaking his head like a dog to rid of the last drops of lake-water clinging to his inferno hair, “didn’t you see what him and Luna were doing when-”

“You, Ronald, are what we at Eton call a tattletale,” Bart sighed, leaning back to enjoy the breeze, “no one believes you after a while.”

And there was silence. It was one of those, what you might call, ‘Awkward silences’. Silences as such were often caused by a sudden exclamation or when everyone present heard the same sentence that was said or finished when it was silent. Where nobody speaks for a couple of seconds, until Harry turned on the radio.

If it hadn't been for Cotton-Eye Joe
I'ld been married long time ago
Where did you come from where did you go
Where did you come from Cotton-Eye Joe

“Oh, God. No,” Bart groaned , “change the channel. Please.”

“Don’t do that,” Ron insisted, batting Harry’s hand out of the way, “this is a nice song. Let’s dance!”

Ron began to bounce up and down his chair.

“Come on!” he said, enthusiastic beyond belief, “It’s what you kids do these days. Shake your groove thing!”

Harry uttered a silent “Oh my God,” and rubbed his temples before continuing to drive.

“Ronald,” Bart said, staring at the redhead as if he were… dancing in a car, “what on earth are you doing?”

“Dancing, Bart,” Ron cheered, throwing his hands through the invisible roof and shaking his waist, “you do it too!”

“Ron, stop it,” Harry snapped, jabbing at the radio, turning it off, “what the hell are you trying to get at?”

“Just trying to lighten the mood,” Ron justified, slumping back onto his chair, “blame me for trying.”

Another awkward silence.

“Bart, do you have a girlfriend?”

Bart looked at the back of Harry’s head, “a girlfriend?” he asked, “Like you and Hermione?”

“More loyal than you and Hermione,” Ron added.

“Something like that,” Harry smiled at Bart through the mirror, “Do you have a girl?”

“A girl,” Ron muttered, looking down at his broken wand, “unlike Harry. Who has girls…”

“Nah,” Bart dismissed, flicking his hand in the air, “they come with such heavy baggage.”

“True,” Ron said, nodding intelligently, “girls are hard to read.”

“Ronald, you’re so stupid,” Bart scowled, turning to Harry, “Harry, you know what I mean right?”

“Sure,” Harry grinned, “but it’s only natural. What can you do about it?”

The Convertible turned off the highway, and the number of houses began to thicken. Harry gave Bart a grin through the rear view mirror and nodded. Bart’s face lit up, and looked around the car in utmost interest. Ron, who just got the innuendo, looked at Bart with utmost interest. Lightbulbs were flashing in his head.

“You know,” Ron said, with a sly grin, “we could get you a girlfriend.”

“Don’t want one,” Bart assured casually waving his hand.

“Why not?” Ron teased, pinching a tuff of his brown, curly hair, “You’ll have to have one and some point.”

“Not me,” Bart sighed as the car pulled to a stop outside Hermione’s house, “leave me out.”

“Ron, stop bothering him,” Harry growled, “You’re starting to annoy me as well. Just leave the kid alone.”

“I’m not bothering him,” Ron grinned, getting out of the car, grinning at Bart, who grinned back, surprisingly, “come on, Bart.”

Bart slipped out of the car, with Harry watching in great interest.

“Harry,” the redhead grinned, “don’t you get it?”

Harry shook his head.

“Bart’s gay,” he announced, walking towards the house.

Harry looked at Bart in great interested, “really?”

Bart lugged a solitary D&C bag out from the boot.

“Ron’s finally right about something,” Bart shrugged, following Ron.

Harry’s eyes widened.

“You’ll help me with the bags, right?” Bart added, “Careful though. It’s Prada."