The Race

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Story Notes:
8/8/05
“Would you hurry up? We‘re falling behind, love.”

“What do you say?”

“Get your arse over here or I’m leaving you?”

“Good answer but no.”

“We’re going to lose if you don’t come on!”

“George, really. There is no need to exaggerate. This silly game just started so I highly doubt a few extra minutes spent waiting for courtesy and politeness is going to alter the outcome of events.”

“...”

“Say please!”

“Oh! Please, Hermione? I want to win.”

“Fine. But I want to say again that I think this could very well be the stupidest thing I’ve ever agreed to do.”

“Yes, so you’ve said at least two dozen times a day for the past five months. Now will you get your arse over here? They’re all beating us!”

“It’s just a silly game, George. Besides, I told you to ask Fred to come along because you know I didn’t even watch this ridiculous program on the telly. The very idea! Running all over the world and doing the most awful things just to win money, of all things. If there’s anything involving heights, I’m going home.”

“Hermione, love. I would have asked Fred but I had this strange notion that it might be fun to spend time with my wife without work getting in the way. It’s a race, love, as I’ve explained nearly as often as you’ve bitched about it, so that’s why there is running all over.”

“We could have spent time together at home. Then I wouldn’t have had to take my holiday and miss the new shipment of texts we’re supposed to get in next week. You know how I like to be there when we get new books, George. Wait, does that mean you don’t think we have fun at home? And I am not a bitch!”

“I didn’t say that! I said you’d been bitching about it, which you have so don’t even try to deny it, and that I thought this might be fun. You know, seeing various parts of the world, competing with a bunch of random people, maybe winning money. You don’t have to worry about heights, love. I’ll keep you safe. You know that.”

“I know, but it doesn’t mean I like them any better. And don’t even think about playing on my competitiveness to get me to actually enjoy this silly idea of yours, George Weasley. I only agreed to accompany you on this race because I love you and didn’t want you to pout.”

“I don’t pout, love. But, even if I possibly sulked just a little when you first said no so adamantly, you find that adorable. Besides, if you’d quit complaining and focus on winning, we might have a good shot. Those other pairs looked rather weak to me. I’m sure you could figure out their weaknesses in no time since you‘re brilliant at that sort of thing. The prize money could mean a new library at home for you. Lots of new books.”

“New books?…Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to at least try to win since we’re here all ready. Extra money might be nice, actually. We could use it to improve our flat or get an actual house instead of the walk up.”

“Why would we need to improve our flat or move, Hermione? It’s perfectly fine as it is. We could use the money to buy you some of those old books you constantly talk about and maybe I could get one of those Muggle spirio systems like Harry has with some of the DCs of that music we heard on the wireless. I love that song about walking on sunshine though I still think that would burn you right up even with protection charms cause the sun is ridiculous hot, you know? How could the chit walk on the sun without dancing wildly around or roasting right up?”

“It’s a stereo and CDs, George. And I don’t think she actually meant she was going to walk on sunshine. It was a…never mind. Just think that she had some really heavy duty dragonhide boots, okay? Now back to the prize. If we win, I still think we should use the money for moving. A nice little house in the country maybe with two bedrooms so we have room for a nursery. In fact, I think we might definitely need one of those in the next eight months.”

“...”

“George?”

“You. We. Baby?”

“Yes. I just found out the other day but we were getting ready to leave and it never seemed like the right time to tell you.”

“I’m going to be a father? We‘re having a baby!”

“...”

“God, I love kissing you, Hermione. Well, that does it. We can’t do this race. You might get hurt or the baby might be in danger.”

“Don’t you give me that ‘might get hurt’ shite, George Weasley! I can take care of myself. We’re in this silly race and we’re going to win, understood? Now come on. We’ve got to catch up.”

“Whatever you say, love.”

The End