One Good Day
Chapter 2: Eggs And Soda
Disclaimer: JKR owns it all, I own nothing, and don't intend to receive nothing for my efforts.
a/n: Part two of Harry's One Good Day. Something I forgot to mention in chapter 1. Definite bonus points if anyone can guess where I got the title from (for the story, not the chapter). If you can't figure it out, don't worry, there will be more extra credit available later on.
“You sure you know how to drive this thing, Hermione? You know, I can drive,” Ron said as he gripped the armrest so hard it looked as though he might just tear it off.
From the backseat, Harry could see Hermione cast Ron a dangerous look as she said, “the last time you drove a car, Ron, was when you were twelve. Plus, it was a flying car, which I expect is a lot easier to drive since there are significantly fewer things that you might hit. And yet, you still managed to crash into a tree!”
Ron had mumbled something about how at least the tree was moving before Hermione shushed him. “Quiet Ron! I still don’t quite have the hang of…”
Just then the car lurched as it made a rather disagreeable rumbling noise. Hermione jerked at the stick shift frantically while the car that followed them honked and dashed around, the driver flashing them a rude hand gesture all the while. When she finally had the car under control, Hermione finished in a whisper, “…this.”
The four of them had left the burrow only about half an hour earlier. Harry plopped himself down at the kitchen table to find Ron and Hermione “making up” from the fiasco earlier. Soon after, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley appeared and wished Harry a very happy birthday. Mrs. Weasley gripped Harry into a tight bear hug, saying how proud she was of him, and how she hoped that the day that was planned for him was truly magnificent, while Mr. Weasley offered a manly handshake and called him, “Mr. Potter.”
Fred and George Apparated in soon after to deliver their presents for him. After a few jokes, Harry had mentioned their lack of presence in the planned day. But the twins explained.
“You two happy couples,” Fred began.
“Absolute wretch-fest,” George finished, making as if to vomit. “Besides,” he added, “both Ginny and Hermione promised to do something anatomically unpleasant if we even thought about playing a joke on you today, so…”
“… no jokes…”
“…no twins.”
“I’ll go put the presents in the trunk,” Ron had said, but before he could collect all the parcels, Mrs. Weasley stopped him.
“What? He’s not going to open them up here?” she asked, but instead of Ron replying, Mrs. Weasley’s answer came from the stairs.
“It was my idea, mum,” Ginny said as she made her way into the kitchen. Harry took one look at her, and felt his jaw fall completely open. He had never seen her in shorts before, particularly shorts that… short. Clad in green flip-flops, denim shorts, and a green tank top, the first coherent words that formed in Harry’s mind were, she’s less clothed now than when she was sitting on my bed!
Clearly enjoying the effect, Ginny smiled at him as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail and whispered in her mum’s ear. After a few moments, Mrs. Weasley seemed satisfied with her daughter’s explanation, and seemed all too happy to let the four loose on the Muggle world.
And so the four of them sat in Hermione’s car. Ron in the passenger seat, Ginny and Harry snuggled in the back seat, and Hermione at the helm, driving the car more out of sheer forceful will than out of knowledge and ability.
“So where are we going first?” Harry asked in an attempt to take his mind off of Hermione’s very dodgy driving.
“Breakfast, of course,” Ron answered as his stomach growled. “I still don’t see why we couldn’t have let mum feed us though,” he added a little bitterly.
“Because, Ron,” Ginny explained patiently, “mum uses magic when she cooks, and that’s clearly against the rules. Besides, we’re going to go somewhere Harry would like to eat.”
Harry found this statement a little intriguing as he was quite fond of Mrs. Weasley’s cooking, and found only Hogwarts’ fare to be comparable. He didn’t have much time to dwell on this, however, as Ron was turning in his seat.
“Almost forgot, mum wanted me to give this to you,” he said as he handed Harry a little satchel. Opening it up, Harry saw not a small amount of Muggle money crumpled up in the little purse.
“This is from my account, right?”
“Not supposed to tell you, mate. Sorry.”
“But,” Harry began, but was cut short.
“We’re here,” Hermione said excitedly. Looking out the window, Harry’s jaw dropped for the second time that morning. No way, he thought, I don’t remember telling them about this.
**
“Welcome to MacDougall’s, how can I help you?” the teenage girl behind the counter asked.
“I don’t know, what do you think Hermione, you’ve been here before?” Ron asked her.
“I can’t believe you guys took me here,” Harry said to Ginny as he squeezed her hand.
“It’s the right place, right?” she asked, squeezing his hand back.
“Most definitely,” he answered, resisting the urge to snog her right there in the queue. This was a burger bar, but not just any burger bar. It was Dudley’s single favorite burger bar, the very same one that his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia adamantly refused to let him eat at. They would come home with paper bags smelling absolutely brilliant, and would make Harry eat left over cabbage and liver while Dudley smirked at him over his pile of hamburgers.
“Just get a number four, Ron, it’s the biggest thing they've got,” Hermione said. She was trying to act impatient, but Harry could tell by the look in her eyes that she was thoroughly enjoying how excited Ron was.
“Okay, I’ll get a Super MacDougall Breakfast sandwich feast with a coffee please.” The teller offered Ron a smile, a rather more gracious smile than Harry thought was necessarily warranted, and gave him the total.
Hermione paid for both she and Ron, and when the girl turned to deliver the order, Harry could have sworn he caught Hermione scowling at her, but by the time the girl returned to the register, Hermione’s face was impassive again.
“What’dya think, Gin,” Harry asked, looking at her.
“How should I know? I’ve never been to one of these things.”
“Neither have I. Go on, I trust you.”
“Okay,” she said scrutinizing the large menu board. “I’ll have a number two, and he’ll have a number six, both with coffees.”
“Wait,” Harry said as his eye caught something. “Can I have… a soda with breakfast?”
The girl smiled at him (though not nearly as warmly as she did at Ron), and said that he could. Smiling, Harry changed his drink to a large soda, and after paying he and Ginny stepped out of line.
“You two want to go and get us a table then?” Harry asked the girls. Hermione gave him a queer glance, but Ginny immediately nodded and grabbed Hermione by the elbow.
“You see that, Ron?”
“See what?”
“The girl, at the register. I think she’s making eyes at you, mate.” It was quite true. As the girl who had taken their orders continued to ring up customers, her eyes frequently flitted over towards Ron.
“Well, I’m taken, ain’t I?” Ron said as if he couldn’t care if a hundred scantily clad women were ogling him.
“Yeah, you are,” Harry said, “but I still thought you should know.”
Before they had a chance to finish, their food had arrived on two plastic trays, and they each took one and delivered them to the table where their girlfriends were sitting.
After everything was meted out, Harry looked at the food before him. Hermione had mentioned that the actual burgers were rubbish, but the breakfasts were quite good. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was the soda. As much as he never got the chance to eat at MacDougall’s, he had never, not once, had a single drop of soda.
Dudley seemed to live on the stuff as they grew up. So much so that Harry sometimes wondered if Dudley even knew what water tasted like. And now, after seventeen years, Harry was sitting in his first burger bar, about to drink his first soda.
Poking the straw through the lid, Harry ventured a sip. It was heavenly. Cold and sweet and tingly, he barely took a breath before making to take a second, much larger drink.
Unfortunately, before he could stop himself, the tingling sensation in the back of his throat started to burn and before he knew it, he was coughing out splatters of cola all over his table.
The other three laughed raucously, and after Harry’s throat calmed down, he joined in. “What was that?” he asked in a raspy voice.
“Carbonation, Harry, you’ll have to drink it slow,” Hermione answered. “Up Ron, I’ll go get some napkins.” Ron stood and let Hermione out, even offering his hand to her. Harry and Ginny grinned cheekily at him, but refused to answer his numerous inquiries.
When Hermione returned, they all chipped in to clean up the mess, and were soon all enjoying their breakfast. Ron raved about his sandwich, but only after asking Hermione if it would do the same thing to his throat that the soda did to Harry’s. When she assured him it was perfectly safe, he performed a sort of wandless magic trick in which his sandwich disappeared right before their very eyes.
Harry couldn’t believe how good a time he was having. They chatted about absolutely nothing at all, and it was incredible to be able to enjoy a conversation that didn’t involve dark wizards, or unexpected deaths. Ginny, as always, was the life of the table as she imitated Harry’s mishap with the drink. When Ron laughed a little too hard at that, she switched easily to mimicking how he looked as he ate his sandwich.
Before long, Harry realized that all of his food was gone, and his cup was empty of everything except a few melting cubes of ice. As the others were also finished, everyone stacked the rubbish onto the trays, and made to leave.
Ron had made an offhand comment about house elves, and he and Hermione bickered good naturedly towards the car, and before Harry could climb into the backseat, Ginny stopped him.
“So, what do you think so far?” she asked him.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her briefly before saying, “that was the best breakfast I ever had.”
a/n: There’s been some controversy over whether butter beer is carbonated. I haven’t researched it yet, but my answer as of now is that:
1) I don’t know if butterbeer is carbonated.
2) If it is, it’s quite possible that it is significantly less carbonated than soda. So much so that Harry would still be taken off guard by the sensation.