[fic] Driver Picks the Music
Driver Picks the Music
Fandom: HP
Rating: PG
Characters/Ship: Ron, Harry/Ginny
Summary: Harry exploits Ron's ignorance of Muggle culture.
A/N: Approx. 600 words. It's not especially shippy, but it grew out of catchmysnitch's January challenge, wizard radio. Any resemblance Celestina Warbeck may or may not bear to a certain Muggle performer is sheer coincidence. *cough* Cross-posted to catchmysnitch and deathly_lollows.
"I'm pretty sure that's not the rule," Ron grumbled, gripping the steering wheel and hunching in his seat. "What's bloody taking Hermione?"
Over the radio, Celestina Warbeck trilled about nights of passion and deep oceans of desire and other silly, girly things.
"Trust me, it's the rule," Harry insisted. "It's a Muggle rule that's existed for as long as there've been cars with radios. Hermione'll agree. Would I lie?"
Ron groaned. Your best mate was not supposed to ask questions like that. He was not supposed to subject you to music like this. Nor, Ron reflected, was he supposed to carry photographs of your little sister in his pocket. Ideally. Not that Harry did carry her photograph around these days. He had some notion that doing so would put her in danger if they were captured by Death Eaters - as if You-Know-Who were likely to forget that she'd helped thwart him more than a year ago in the Department of Mysteries. Harry thought he was being noble. The knowledge - via Hermione - that Ginny thought he was out of his head brought Ron some pleasure.
"Your lips light a fire in my soul," Celestina sang. "A thousand red rose petals fall around me…"
Ron glared through the smeared windshield and falling rain. He could see inside the petrol station's little shop, but he didn't see Hermione. Come on, he thought. Come on, how long does it take to pee and get directions?
"And butterflies! Oh, yes! Butterflies! Lay me down and make luuuuuurve..."
"You know," Ron said, "if my brain explodes because of this, I'm not going to be much help finding Horcruxes. No, I know what. You should record this somehow and play it for You-Know-Who. That'll finish him right off, Horcruxes or not."
"It's not that bad," said Harry.
Ron slammed his palm against the horn. "Come on, Hermione."
Celestina warbled on about sheets of silk and souls colliding. Ron imagined her soul splattering against some bloke's and the whole messy thing dribbling down Harry's lenses.
"You're not very romantic," Harry commented.
"Well spotted," said Ron through his clenched teeth. "Doesn't this song ever end?"
"My luuuuurve will go on…and on…and on…and…."
"I suppose," said Ron with a sigh, "it's too much to hope she's a bloody Horcrux." He looked at Harry. "Can we go and see? And kill her just to make sure? Or lock her up, or something? Reckon Mum won't like that. Reckon you won't like that, you poof."
Harry pulled a face. "Are you mad? She's awful."
"Then-"
Harry gazed out at the rain. "This song reminds me of Ginny."
"Ginny hates Celestina Warbeck," said Ron with certainty. "This song most of all."
"That's why it reminds me of her."
At that moment, Hermione returned. She slid into the backseat and pulled the door closed behind her. She shook out her hair, flecking Ron and Harry with raindrops. "All right, I got very detailed directions so I know how to get where we want to be. Why are we listening to this rubbish?"
Ron jabbed his thumb in Harry's direction. "Ask him. Actually, we're studying her. We think she might be a Horcrux. That was my idea." He grinned over his shoulder at her. "Impressed?"
"Very," said Hermione, her glance flicking to Harry.
"It's the Muggle rule," Harry explained. "You know. The person riding shotgun always picks the music. Right?"
"Right," said Hermione and started to laugh. Harry joined her.
"What?" said Ron suspiciously.
2/24/07
Fandom: HP
Rating: PG
Characters/Ship: Ron, Harry/Ginny
Summary: Harry exploits Ron's ignorance of Muggle culture.
A/N: Approx. 600 words. It's not especially shippy, but it grew out of catchmysnitch's January challenge, wizard radio. Any resemblance Celestina Warbeck may or may not bear to a certain Muggle performer is sheer coincidence. *cough* Cross-posted to catchmysnitch and deathly_lollows.
"I'm pretty sure that's not the rule," Ron grumbled, gripping the steering wheel and hunching in his seat. "What's bloody taking Hermione?"
Over the radio, Celestina Warbeck trilled about nights of passion and deep oceans of desire and other silly, girly things.
"Trust me, it's the rule," Harry insisted. "It's a Muggle rule that's existed for as long as there've been cars with radios. Hermione'll agree. Would I lie?"
Ron groaned. Your best mate was not supposed to ask questions like that. He was not supposed to subject you to music like this. Nor, Ron reflected, was he supposed to carry photographs of your little sister in his pocket. Ideally. Not that Harry did carry her photograph around these days. He had some notion that doing so would put her in danger if they were captured by Death Eaters - as if You-Know-Who were likely to forget that she'd helped thwart him more than a year ago in the Department of Mysteries. Harry thought he was being noble. The knowledge - via Hermione - that Ginny thought he was out of his head brought Ron some pleasure.
"Your lips light a fire in my soul," Celestina sang. "A thousand red rose petals fall around me…"
Ron glared through the smeared windshield and falling rain. He could see inside the petrol station's little shop, but he didn't see Hermione. Come on, he thought. Come on, how long does it take to pee and get directions?
"And butterflies! Oh, yes! Butterflies! Lay me down and make luuuuuurve..."
"You know," Ron said, "if my brain explodes because of this, I'm not going to be much help finding Horcruxes. No, I know what. You should record this somehow and play it for You-Know-Who. That'll finish him right off, Horcruxes or not."
"It's not that bad," said Harry.
Ron slammed his palm against the horn. "Come on, Hermione."
Celestina warbled on about sheets of silk and souls colliding. Ron imagined her soul splattering against some bloke's and the whole messy thing dribbling down Harry's lenses.
"You're not very romantic," Harry commented.
"Well spotted," said Ron through his clenched teeth. "Doesn't this song ever end?"
"My luuuuurve will go on…and on…and on…and…."
"I suppose," said Ron with a sigh, "it's too much to hope she's a bloody Horcrux." He looked at Harry. "Can we go and see? And kill her just to make sure? Or lock her up, or something? Reckon Mum won't like that. Reckon you won't like that, you poof."
Harry pulled a face. "Are you mad? She's awful."
"Then-"
Harry gazed out at the rain. "This song reminds me of Ginny."
"Ginny hates Celestina Warbeck," said Ron with certainty. "This song most of all."
"That's why it reminds me of her."
At that moment, Hermione returned. She slid into the backseat and pulled the door closed behind her. She shook out her hair, flecking Ron and Harry with raindrops. "All right, I got very detailed directions so I know how to get where we want to be. Why are we listening to this rubbish?"
Ron jabbed his thumb in Harry's direction. "Ask him. Actually, we're studying her. We think she might be a Horcrux. That was my idea." He grinned over his shoulder at her. "Impressed?"
"Very," said Hermione, her glance flicking to Harry.
"It's the Muggle rule," Harry explained. "You know. The person riding shotgun always picks the music. Right?"
"Right," said Hermione and started to laugh. Harry joined her.
"What?" said Ron suspiciously.
2/24/07