The memory then flickered back to the troll as the ginger pulled out his wand must've cast the first thing that came to mind.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Lester stared curiously as the club slipped out of the troll's hand, rose high into the air, turned slowly over - and dropped, cracking its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole memory tremble. How Harry had made it onto the troll's back Lester didn't know if he wanted to know.
The projector died for a moment as the kid recovered a bit.
"Wicked," the ginger kid said before the projector flickered to life again.
...
"We've got to get one," the red-haired kid told his dad as he concluded his tale. "It was mad, but brilliant!"
Safe and comfortable in the lobby's unwanted visitor's section, the kid named Ron had started spilling everything - as soon as he could speak coherently that was - going on and on like a - well, like a twelve year old who'd just been on his first roller-coaster. He had learned more about his daughter's first year at Hogwarts in the last half hour than he had heard from her during the entire summer.
It was obvious as to why she'd done it, though he couldn't help but feel a little sad for it. Raise her right and teach her to think critically and she still ran straight into a twelve foot troll, giant three-headed dog, and an evil chemistry teacher - though the last one was a danger wherever you went. Chemistry teachers were evil, evil people; it was probably the fumes that turned them all into mad scientists.
"Ah, here she comes," Arthur said drawing his attention to his wobbly-legged daughter as she made her way towards them with her goblin buddies.
"Are you alright?" the frizzy-haired dentist asked as the goblins moved away.
Hermione seemed to ponder that in an 'I just had a lot of laughing gas' kind of way.
"Blueberry?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him questioningly.
"I'm going to take that as a 'yes,'" he said with a smile as Ron snorted at her answer. The kid didn't really have much to kid her about though. What was a 'snuffle-wampum' anyway? He checked his watch as his daughter's brain rebooted.
"If we really hurry we might still be able to get everything before the shops close," he said more to himself than anyone else. They'd still be late in getting home though.
"No," his daughter said with a scowl, holding her hands out in front of him to keep him in his seat. She must've rebooted into Puckle mode. "Harry's still in there; we can't just leave."
He looked at his daughter; he knew what she was doing. Having just been through what the boy was going through, she couldn't be concerned with the boy's health; she was concerned with the health of their not-a-date date. After a moment Hermione's eyes flickered to the Weasleys and her look became beseeching; begging him not to make her say it.
"Alright," he said, giving her a small reprieve. "I suppose we can stay the night and head back tomorrow morning. That roach motel we entered through rents rooms, doesn't it?" he asked Arthur.
"Er - yes, but I don't know anyone who's ever stayed there," Mr. Weasley answered. "I'd invite you to stay with us but wouldn't want to spring you on Molly like that. I'll be in enough trouble as it is."
"And we wouldn't want to intrude," Mr. Granger said honestly, thinking it would indeed be too much.
"If we make it tomorrow afternoon I could probably go with Harry when he meets Professor McGonagall," Hermione said hopefully.
Ron snorted. "Leave it to Hermione to squeeze a little school into her break," he said with a smile.
She shot him a reproachful look.
"You could pay a little more attention to your schooling, Ron," the boy's father said. "You really don't seem to appreciate it. I wish I had when I was your age."
"Plus, teachers tend to cut you a little slack if you treat them like human beings, it confuses them," Mr. Granger told the boy, who was staring at him like he was still wearing the throw-pillow.
"So can we?" his daughter asked with those big brown eyes of hers.
He felt the invisible lead he led her around on as a parent lengthen yet again. He didn't like how quickly they went from walking home with you from school hand-in-hand, jabbering on about what they'd learned, to keeping huge sections of their life a secret but figured that unless he tied a big rock to the top of her head every night there was no way to keep her from growing up. And with his luck she'd end up squashed and looking like one of those goblins. Then Grumpypants Stealyourwallet from earlier might become family.
That only left him with the same two choices again: either be the typical father and make her fight him for every inch of freedom when there was ultimately no way for him to win, or let her go and take the first tentative steps by herself and the examine the world on her own. He just wished it didn't hurt so much to watch her walk away.
"Oh, alright," he said with an exaggeratedly put-upon sigh to hide his heart. "But you're the one who has to find a way to let your mother know - without leaving the building," he smiled, knowing he was going to let her do it anyway. His little feminist liked to earn everything herself though. Good for her.
Instantly his Little Puckle started computing the perfect plan; it came surprisingly quickly. With a glance to the goblin guards, she looked at him with narrowed eyes.
"I need money," she said.
.....
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