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camwynI was hoping to get the boys further along in the story before posting, but I rewrote one paragraph about eight times. Lemme know what you think before I go any further.
Edited to correct the spelling of Winston's last name.
"Are you quite sure this is how to do it, Hermione?"
The young witch sighed. "Yes, Mr. Weasley," she said patiently. "Quite sure."
Arthur shook his head, scanning the mass of people before him. "I don't know," he said. "It's just- well- it seems so inelegant somehow. Can't you reach them on the fellytone?"
"It's 'telephone', and they don't carry any with them."
"They don't? Why on earth not?"
"Probably because American telephones won't work in Europe. Anyway, I don't think Dr. Spengler's letter mentioned a cellular number. May I see it again?"
Arthur set down the cardboard sign reading STANTZ SPENGLER VENKMAN ZEDDEMORE and dug into the pocket of his Muggle jeans. He withdrew a crumpled envelope, which he passed to Hermione before peering hopefully at the crowd once more. "I should've asked them to send a picture," he fretted. "I only met them that once."
"I'm sure you'll be fine, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione absently as she smoothed out the letter. "There really can't be that many Americans coming into Heathrow on Icelandair."
He sighed, lowering his voice as a knot of teenagers milled past. "I suppose. Still, I do wish they'd been able to come by Floo."
"Well, they tried that, didn't they?" Hermione pointed to the letter, ducking the curious look of an elderly German woman. "They did get as far as Reykjavik."
Arthur nodded. The letter had arrived by short-eared owl yesterday, saying that the Ghostbusters had run into unexpected Floo troubles and could someone please come to meet them at Heathrow Airport. They'd tapped him for the job, and he'd jumped at the chance; he'd never been to a proper Muggle airport before. Not to mention that, Ghostbusters aside, he desperately wanted a close-up look at some aeroplanes. Lucky thing Hermione had volunteered to come along as a guide! How the Muggles could ever run a place this big and complicated without magic to ease things along, he'd never know. Why, the mere approach to the place was a nightmare, motorways full of strange signs and all kinds of vehicles whizzing by in every conceivable direction. Worse than a Quidditch riot! And the airport itself- well- definitely a lucky thing he had Hermione along; there were far too many things to see, instructions to follow, people to avoid. . .
"No," said Hermione, intruding on his reverie. "No number. I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, but I really don't think they've got telephones with them."
"Oh," said Arthur, a bit disappointed. He took back the letter, tucking it into his pocket. "Ah- you are sure this is where we're supposed to meet them?"
"Pretty sure," said Hermione, indicating the INTERNATIONAL ARRIVALS sign.
A group of Muggles all in blue and yellow pushed past them, yellow pennants protruding from their bags. "Their- aeroplane?- it hasn't been delayed?"
"No, we checked on that already."
"Right, then." Arthur nodded firmly and picked up his sign again. There was music coming from the ceiling, some Muggle tune he didn't recognise. It had a stirring sort of beat to it; he found himself humming along.
Hermione sighed as she glanced at the clock on the wall. "They can't have got very far. If they're coming in from Iceland they've got to-"
His attention was jarred away from her words by the voice. Loud and brash, it cut across the ceiling music and the background murmurs of the surrounding crowd. And it was singing, albeit with more enthusiasm than skill:
"Toe your line and play their game-"
"Inside voice, Peter! Inside voice!" snapped someone else over the noise of the crowd.
"Sorry, Hermione," Arthur said, "I didn't catch that last?"
"They've got to pass Customs, and then-"
"Let the anesthetic cover it all-"
"And that's where?" asked Arthur, wincing and trying to block out the singer with one hand.
"Till one day they call your name- Egon, you're not singing!"
Arthur's head swung around immediately.
"I'm not talking to you, Peter, it's not good for me." The speaker was a tall, scowling, dark-haired American. His barber had inflicted a peculiar haircut upon him that added several inches to his height. He wore sensible grey traveling clothes (sensible for Muggles, anyway), and a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles sat slightly askew on the bridge of his prominent nose. The target of his ire was a shorter man with a thing around his neck that Arthur remembered was some form of Muggle entertainment device meant to be worn over the ears. He was dressed in a fashion similar to the taller man, though his clothes rather looked the worse for wear. His dark brown hair flopped carelessly to one side as he stared up at the other with a look of injured innocence. Exactly the sort of look the twins used to pull when Molly found out about their latest experimental pranks, Arthur thought. Oh, yes, he knew that look- but more importantly, he knew those names. And- yes, there, he'd eat his hat if he didn't recognize the lighter of the two men coming up to join them-
He snatched his sign back up and held it over his head as high as he possibly could. The gesture was a bit excessive, true, but in the midst of a press like this you had to take excessive measures to get noticed. Sure enough, the black man who'd just arrived tapped the taller fellow on the shoulder and pointed.
Arthur smiled. "I do believe we've found them," he murmured to Hermione.
The one with the device around his neck- Peter- separated from the group first, making his way through the crowd. "Mr. . . ." He fished a piece of crumpled paper from his pocket. "Weasley? Arthur Weasley?"
"Yes," said Arthur as he lowered the sign. "And you're- don't tell me, I remember seeing you once- ah. . ."
The man grinned and stuck out his right hand. "Pete Venkman," he said. "Pleased to meet you. Hey! Guys! It's our ride!"
"Erm- if by 'ride' you mean-"
But Arthur couldn't finish the sentence; the American was shaking his hand too enthusiastically and passing him off to the others in turn. "Man am I glad to see you, I am so ready to get out of these duds- okay, this is Winston Zeddemore, and Dr. Ray Stantz-"
"We've met, Peter, remember?" The other man smiled. "Good to see you again, Mr. Weasley."
"Oh, yeah, sorry. You know Ray, then. And Egon-"
"Charmed," said the tall man, who sounded anything but. "Excuse me a minute, Mr. Weasley, but I've got to go get our equipment before the Customs inspectors do anything catastrophically stupid." He left before Arthur could so much as open his mouth.
"You'll have to excuse Dr. Spengler. We don't let him out much." Peter glanced over his shoulder at Egon's receding form. "And he's still kind of steamed about what happened in Iceland."
"Yes, about that-"
Ray made a 'tch' sound and shook his head sadly. "The Floo Network operators at Keflavik took one look at our proton packs and refused to let us even come near another one of their fires," he said. "All despite the fact that we'd just come through the Canadian fires and across Kalaallit Nunaat without any trouble, except when Venkman here sneezed at the wrong time and wound up in some fisherman's hut somewhere."
"Yeah, what a knockabout round of pure fun that was." Peter snorted. "Anyway. Egon said something about the Floo guys in Iceland knowing him from school, and he's had a bug up his ass about that ever since- oops, sorry." That last was hastily tacked on as Arthur cleared his throat, gesturing towards his companion. "Didn't see you there, miss."
"Quite all right, Dr. Venkman," said Hermione, stepping forward with her chin lifted slightly. "Although if I might ask you something-"
"Um- sure, I guess-"
"Hermione Granger," murmured Arthur by way of introduction.
"Okay. Sure, Miss Granger, what is it?"
She nodded towards the Customs area as Arthur started herding the group along. "Dr. Spengler, there- he isn't by any chance related to Zedekiah Spengler, is he?"
"Wasn't that the name of that guy in New England?" asked Winston. "The one with the dragon?"
"Yeah- yeah, I think so. Ray?"
"Yep," said Ray, "that's him. His great-great-great grandfather. He doesn't talk about him, though."
"Why on Earth not?" asked Hermione. "Zedekiah Spengler was one of the most respected wizards in colonial America!"
Ray shook his head. "He doesn't talk about any of his magical relatives," he said. "As far as he's concerned, his only worthwhile ancestors are the scientists and scholars. He ignores something like five-eighths of his family tree, really."
Arthur frowned a little. "But- if he's got that many-"
"Hold that thought," said Peter, tapping Arthur on the arm and pointing ahead to where Egon was talking to several uniformed Muggles.
"Look," snapped Egon at the Muggle nearest to him, "I've already told you, they were inspected and cleared at Keflavik. We were told there'd be no need for further inspection once the Icelandic government seal was on them." The sealed items were stacked one on top of the other; there were four, marked with not only the Icelandic government's seal but several yellow-and-black designs Arthur didn't recognise at all.
"That's as may be, sir, but that only applies to taxable goods, and if what you say is true, then Iceland mis-classified your equipment." The Muggle tapped her clip-board with the end of her pen. "These are very clearly not going to be sold in this country- at least, they'd better not be."
"You're right on that, at least," Egon muttered.
"Good. Unfortunately, Iceland's standards for allowable nuclear devices fail to measure up to ours in several particulars." She nodded to the Muggle next to her, who reached for the first box. Egon all but slapped his hand away. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to allow us to inspect your devices-"
"You're not qualified to inspect this stuff!"
Peter whistled softly. "Spengs is really gonna blow his stack," he said. "Been a long time since I've seen him this mad."
"Give him a break," said Ray sympathetically. "It's been a hard day for all of us. Him especially."
"Sir!" the Muggle woman barked. "Please stand away from the devices and surrender your papers for them at once!"
"All right. That's it." Egon lifted one hand in a sharp, angry wave. "You know what? You don't need to see their papers."
"He didn't just do that, did he?" whispered Peter to Ray.
The Muggle woman, who had been about to speak, blinked several times. Then, much to Arthur's surprise, she quietly said, "I don't need to see their papers."
"You don't?" asked the man next to her.
"She doesn't?" Hermione asked, almost as surprised.
"Uh- yeah, he did."
"You don't need to see any of our papers," Egon continued steadily. "You're going to let me through. And so are you," he added, eyes darting to the male Muggle.
The woman nodded. "I don't need to see any of your papers," she said, looking down at her clipboard and scribbling busily. "I’m going to let you through-"
"And so am I," chimed in the man.
"Excellent," said Egon. There was a peculiar gleam in his eye. "Carry on."
"Carry on," the woman said briskly. The other Muggle nodded, smiling, and the two of them walked off.
Egon exhaled, watching them go. "Bureaucrats," he muttered. It sounded impossibly vulgar, the way he said it.
"Jedi mind tricks in the middle of Heathrow. Nice one, Egon." Peter shook his head. "I thought you said we were supposed to be subtle on this trip?"
"We don't have English documentation for the proton packs. I assumed we wouldn't need it because we were supposed to be traveling by Floo." He grabbed one of the sealed packages off the stack.
"You couldn't have just bribed the woman or something?" Peter looked around. "Uh- Arthur, could you grab one of those wheely carts or something? We've got way more luggage here than we can carry, at least until we can get the packs out and put them on."
Hermione, meanwhile, was staring at Egon with a peculiar expression. "You can't have done that," she said.
"It was safer than the alternative," said Egon shortly. "Peter? This one's yours."
"No- I mean you shouldn't have been able to do that. I don't believe you've got a wand anywhere on you."
"That's because I don't use one if it can possibly be avoided." He adjusted his glasses and tossed one of the suitcases to Winston. "They're rarely even symbologically consistent, and unpredictably dangerous if damaged. At least if someone breaches the casing on the proton packs I know what's going to happen every time."
"What's going to happen?" asked Arthur, interested despite himself. He'd found a cart as Peter had requested, but there seemed to be something wrong with it; one of its wheels refused to run in the same direction as all the others.
"The resultant explosion takes out roughly half a New York City block and scatters multiple wavelengths of radiation and hazardous high-energy particles, contaminating the area for the next twenty years."
Arthur gulped.
Peter grinned. "And we wear them on our backs every single day of the year. Bet you'll sleep better knowing that little fact, huh?" He kicked at the stuck wheel on the cart. "Come on, guys, let's get outta here before Obi-Wan causes any more trouble. Which way do we go from here, Arthur?"
"Uh- Hermione?"
Hermione smiled. "Mr. Weasley's not very familiar with the airport," she said as they started to move. "That's what I'm here for. Come along- the exit's right this way."
Edited to correct the spelling of Winston's last name.
"Are you quite sure this is how to do it, Hermione?"
The young witch sighed. "Yes, Mr. Weasley," she said patiently. "Quite sure."
Arthur shook his head, scanning the mass of people before him. "I don't know," he said. "It's just- well- it seems so inelegant somehow. Can't you reach them on the fellytone?"
"It's 'telephone', and they don't carry any with them."
"They don't? Why on earth not?"
"Probably because American telephones won't work in Europe. Anyway, I don't think Dr. Spengler's letter mentioned a cellular number. May I see it again?"
Arthur set down the cardboard sign reading STANTZ SPENGLER VENKMAN ZEDDEMORE and dug into the pocket of his Muggle jeans. He withdrew a crumpled envelope, which he passed to Hermione before peering hopefully at the crowd once more. "I should've asked them to send a picture," he fretted. "I only met them that once."
"I'm sure you'll be fine, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione absently as she smoothed out the letter. "There really can't be that many Americans coming into Heathrow on Icelandair."
He sighed, lowering his voice as a knot of teenagers milled past. "I suppose. Still, I do wish they'd been able to come by Floo."
"Well, they tried that, didn't they?" Hermione pointed to the letter, ducking the curious look of an elderly German woman. "They did get as far as Reykjavik."
Arthur nodded. The letter had arrived by short-eared owl yesterday, saying that the Ghostbusters had run into unexpected Floo troubles and could someone please come to meet them at Heathrow Airport. They'd tapped him for the job, and he'd jumped at the chance; he'd never been to a proper Muggle airport before. Not to mention that, Ghostbusters aside, he desperately wanted a close-up look at some aeroplanes. Lucky thing Hermione had volunteered to come along as a guide! How the Muggles could ever run a place this big and complicated without magic to ease things along, he'd never know. Why, the mere approach to the place was a nightmare, motorways full of strange signs and all kinds of vehicles whizzing by in every conceivable direction. Worse than a Quidditch riot! And the airport itself- well- definitely a lucky thing he had Hermione along; there were far too many things to see, instructions to follow, people to avoid. . .
"No," said Hermione, intruding on his reverie. "No number. I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, but I really don't think they've got telephones with them."
"Oh," said Arthur, a bit disappointed. He took back the letter, tucking it into his pocket. "Ah- you are sure this is where we're supposed to meet them?"
"Pretty sure," said Hermione, indicating the INTERNATIONAL ARRIVALS sign.
A group of Muggles all in blue and yellow pushed past them, yellow pennants protruding from their bags. "Their- aeroplane?- it hasn't been delayed?"
"No, we checked on that already."
"Right, then." Arthur nodded firmly and picked up his sign again. There was music coming from the ceiling, some Muggle tune he didn't recognise. It had a stirring sort of beat to it; he found himself humming along.
Hermione sighed as she glanced at the clock on the wall. "They can't have got very far. If they're coming in from Iceland they've got to-"
His attention was jarred away from her words by the voice. Loud and brash, it cut across the ceiling music and the background murmurs of the surrounding crowd. And it was singing, albeit with more enthusiasm than skill:
"Toe your line and play their game-"
"Inside voice, Peter! Inside voice!" snapped someone else over the noise of the crowd.
"Sorry, Hermione," Arthur said, "I didn't catch that last?"
"They've got to pass Customs, and then-"
"Let the anesthetic cover it all-"
"And that's where?" asked Arthur, wincing and trying to block out the singer with one hand.
"Till one day they call your name- Egon, you're not singing!"
Arthur's head swung around immediately.
"I'm not talking to you, Peter, it's not good for me." The speaker was a tall, scowling, dark-haired American. His barber had inflicted a peculiar haircut upon him that added several inches to his height. He wore sensible grey traveling clothes (sensible for Muggles, anyway), and a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles sat slightly askew on the bridge of his prominent nose. The target of his ire was a shorter man with a thing around his neck that Arthur remembered was some form of Muggle entertainment device meant to be worn over the ears. He was dressed in a fashion similar to the taller man, though his clothes rather looked the worse for wear. His dark brown hair flopped carelessly to one side as he stared up at the other with a look of injured innocence. Exactly the sort of look the twins used to pull when Molly found out about their latest experimental pranks, Arthur thought. Oh, yes, he knew that look- but more importantly, he knew those names. And- yes, there, he'd eat his hat if he didn't recognize the lighter of the two men coming up to join them-
He snatched his sign back up and held it over his head as high as he possibly could. The gesture was a bit excessive, true, but in the midst of a press like this you had to take excessive measures to get noticed. Sure enough, the black man who'd just arrived tapped the taller fellow on the shoulder and pointed.
Arthur smiled. "I do believe we've found them," he murmured to Hermione.
The one with the device around his neck- Peter- separated from the group first, making his way through the crowd. "Mr. . . ." He fished a piece of crumpled paper from his pocket. "Weasley? Arthur Weasley?"
"Yes," said Arthur as he lowered the sign. "And you're- don't tell me, I remember seeing you once- ah. . ."
The man grinned and stuck out his right hand. "Pete Venkman," he said. "Pleased to meet you. Hey! Guys! It's our ride!"
"Erm- if by 'ride' you mean-"
But Arthur couldn't finish the sentence; the American was shaking his hand too enthusiastically and passing him off to the others in turn. "Man am I glad to see you, I am so ready to get out of these duds- okay, this is Winston Zeddemore, and Dr. Ray Stantz-"
"We've met, Peter, remember?" The other man smiled. "Good to see you again, Mr. Weasley."
"Oh, yeah, sorry. You know Ray, then. And Egon-"
"Charmed," said the tall man, who sounded anything but. "Excuse me a minute, Mr. Weasley, but I've got to go get our equipment before the Customs inspectors do anything catastrophically stupid." He left before Arthur could so much as open his mouth.
"You'll have to excuse Dr. Spengler. We don't let him out much." Peter glanced over his shoulder at Egon's receding form. "And he's still kind of steamed about what happened in Iceland."
"Yes, about that-"
Ray made a 'tch' sound and shook his head sadly. "The Floo Network operators at Keflavik took one look at our proton packs and refused to let us even come near another one of their fires," he said. "All despite the fact that we'd just come through the Canadian fires and across Kalaallit Nunaat without any trouble, except when Venkman here sneezed at the wrong time and wound up in some fisherman's hut somewhere."
"Yeah, what a knockabout round of pure fun that was." Peter snorted. "Anyway. Egon said something about the Floo guys in Iceland knowing him from school, and he's had a bug up his ass about that ever since- oops, sorry." That last was hastily tacked on as Arthur cleared his throat, gesturing towards his companion. "Didn't see you there, miss."
"Quite all right, Dr. Venkman," said Hermione, stepping forward with her chin lifted slightly. "Although if I might ask you something-"
"Um- sure, I guess-"
"Hermione Granger," murmured Arthur by way of introduction.
"Okay. Sure, Miss Granger, what is it?"
She nodded towards the Customs area as Arthur started herding the group along. "Dr. Spengler, there- he isn't by any chance related to Zedekiah Spengler, is he?"
"Wasn't that the name of that guy in New England?" asked Winston. "The one with the dragon?"
"Yeah- yeah, I think so. Ray?"
"Yep," said Ray, "that's him. His great-great-great grandfather. He doesn't talk about him, though."
"Why on Earth not?" asked Hermione. "Zedekiah Spengler was one of the most respected wizards in colonial America!"
Ray shook his head. "He doesn't talk about any of his magical relatives," he said. "As far as he's concerned, his only worthwhile ancestors are the scientists and scholars. He ignores something like five-eighths of his family tree, really."
Arthur frowned a little. "But- if he's got that many-"
"Hold that thought," said Peter, tapping Arthur on the arm and pointing ahead to where Egon was talking to several uniformed Muggles.
"Look," snapped Egon at the Muggle nearest to him, "I've already told you, they were inspected and cleared at Keflavik. We were told there'd be no need for further inspection once the Icelandic government seal was on them." The sealed items were stacked one on top of the other; there were four, marked with not only the Icelandic government's seal but several yellow-and-black designs Arthur didn't recognise at all.
"That's as may be, sir, but that only applies to taxable goods, and if what you say is true, then Iceland mis-classified your equipment." The Muggle tapped her clip-board with the end of her pen. "These are very clearly not going to be sold in this country- at least, they'd better not be."
"You're right on that, at least," Egon muttered.
"Good. Unfortunately, Iceland's standards for allowable nuclear devices fail to measure up to ours in several particulars." She nodded to the Muggle next to her, who reached for the first box. Egon all but slapped his hand away. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to allow us to inspect your devices-"
"You're not qualified to inspect this stuff!"
Peter whistled softly. "Spengs is really gonna blow his stack," he said. "Been a long time since I've seen him this mad."
"Give him a break," said Ray sympathetically. "It's been a hard day for all of us. Him especially."
"Sir!" the Muggle woman barked. "Please stand away from the devices and surrender your papers for them at once!"
"All right. That's it." Egon lifted one hand in a sharp, angry wave. "You know what? You don't need to see their papers."
"He didn't just do that, did he?" whispered Peter to Ray.
The Muggle woman, who had been about to speak, blinked several times. Then, much to Arthur's surprise, she quietly said, "I don't need to see their papers."
"You don't?" asked the man next to her.
"She doesn't?" Hermione asked, almost as surprised.
"Uh- yeah, he did."
"You don't need to see any of our papers," Egon continued steadily. "You're going to let me through. And so are you," he added, eyes darting to the male Muggle.
The woman nodded. "I don't need to see any of your papers," she said, looking down at her clipboard and scribbling busily. "I’m going to let you through-"
"And so am I," chimed in the man.
"Excellent," said Egon. There was a peculiar gleam in his eye. "Carry on."
"Carry on," the woman said briskly. The other Muggle nodded, smiling, and the two of them walked off.
Egon exhaled, watching them go. "Bureaucrats," he muttered. It sounded impossibly vulgar, the way he said it.
"Jedi mind tricks in the middle of Heathrow. Nice one, Egon." Peter shook his head. "I thought you said we were supposed to be subtle on this trip?"
"We don't have English documentation for the proton packs. I assumed we wouldn't need it because we were supposed to be traveling by Floo." He grabbed one of the sealed packages off the stack.
"You couldn't have just bribed the woman or something?" Peter looked around. "Uh- Arthur, could you grab one of those wheely carts or something? We've got way more luggage here than we can carry, at least until we can get the packs out and put them on."
Hermione, meanwhile, was staring at Egon with a peculiar expression. "You can't have done that," she said.
"It was safer than the alternative," said Egon shortly. "Peter? This one's yours."
"No- I mean you shouldn't have been able to do that. I don't believe you've got a wand anywhere on you."
"That's because I don't use one if it can possibly be avoided." He adjusted his glasses and tossed one of the suitcases to Winston. "They're rarely even symbologically consistent, and unpredictably dangerous if damaged. At least if someone breaches the casing on the proton packs I know what's going to happen every time."
"What's going to happen?" asked Arthur, interested despite himself. He'd found a cart as Peter had requested, but there seemed to be something wrong with it; one of its wheels refused to run in the same direction as all the others.
"The resultant explosion takes out roughly half a New York City block and scatters multiple wavelengths of radiation and hazardous high-energy particles, contaminating the area for the next twenty years."
Arthur gulped.
Peter grinned. "And we wear them on our backs every single day of the year. Bet you'll sleep better knowing that little fact, huh?" He kicked at the stuck wheel on the cart. "Come on, guys, let's get outta here before Obi-Wan causes any more trouble. Which way do we go from here, Arthur?"
"Uh- Hermione?"
Hermione smiled. "Mr. Weasley's not very familiar with the airport," she said as they started to move. "That's what I'm here for. Come along- the exit's right this way."
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no subject
Date: 2004-04-17 11:51 pm (UTC)Just one tiny thing--early on you mention Arthur and Hermione holding a sign, and on it Winston's last name is spelled wrong (don't know if that was intentional or not), but then you have Venkman saying "Man am I glad to see you, I am so ready to get out of these duds- okay, this is Winston Zeddmore, and Dr. Ray Stantz-" You need an 'e' in there. ;)
Otherwise, I've been sucked in. Helllp! ;)
no subject
Date: 2004-04-18 06:46 am (UTC)Re the spelling: I could ordinarily excuse myself WRT Arthur's sign, since people screw up spelling at the airport all the time, but you're right- I got it wrong every time it appeared. Will fix. My bad.
And thank you!
no subject
Date: 2004-04-18 12:23 am (UTC)Guh.
And I just KNOW that Hermione's gonna be infatuated with Egon. Know it.
*doesn't have anything contructive to say* You've got me. Hook, line and sinker.
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Date: 2004-04-18 06:52 am (UTC)That was one of my favourite parts of the movie when I re-watched it the other night. I figured that the magical government probably doesn't really want to talk to the nonmagical one about the current situation, so they most likely asked the boys to keep things a little quieter than usual, and for once they actually tried to comply. (Mostly because Ray and Egon made the arrangements this time instead of Peter.)
And I just KNOW that Hermione's gonna be infatuated with Egon. Know it.
Yeahhhhh, I realised that as I sat down to start writing the interaction between the two. Someone wrote a fic in 2000 where Hermione and Ron accidentally summoned Egon to Hogwarts- it was a crossover with the cartoon. I found it when I was looking up Zedekiah Spengler on the web. The fic had a line fairly early on about how Hermione admired and fancied bright men, and I realised that the argument I had planned for them was probably going to get interesting really fast from her point of view.
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Date: 2004-04-18 09:52 am (UTC)Does she, though? When I first read that line, it seemed obviously right -- how could she not? -- but then I started thinking of the men she's fancied, and came up with this list:
1)Gilderoy Lockhart
2)Ron Weasley
3)Viktor Krum
Of the three, it's easiest to argue that Krum is bright, but even there, he's never shown any particular indication of it; it's just that we don't know him as well as we know Ron and Lockhart, who I can can say with confidence are neither of them exceptionally intelligent.
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Date: 2004-04-18 11:03 am (UTC)And as I said, I had been planning on an argument between the two of them on the bus...
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Date: 2004-04-18 11:24 am (UTC)"Just because he said you were the best student of the year -"
That's certainly a plausible explanation of Krum's attraction at any rate. He hung out in the library to get a chance to talk to Hermione, he invited her to the Yule Ball, he invited her to visit him in Bulgaria, he clearly admired her.
And that's about all that Lockhart, Krum, and Ron have in common, really.
Why shouldn't the quality that Hermione finds most attractive in a man be that he admires her? She's worth it, and it'll save her a lot of the grief that other girls go through.
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Date: 2004-04-18 09:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-18 12:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-18 07:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-18 09:19 am (UTC)Love it.
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Date: 2004-04-18 05:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-18 09:07 pm (UTC)Egon must have seen Star Wars and thought, "Hmmm. Good idea if I ever need to bypass a pesky bureaucrat."
Hermione will love combining science and magic.
Oh, GOD. I just pictured Snape, Egon and Peter in the same room. Will the room be able to contain the snark?
I could really hear Ray, Winston, Peter and Egon's different voices in this.
This is truly amazing. And utterly beautiful.
Of course, now I want more. ::sigh::
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Date: 2004-04-18 09:52 pm (UTC)(Although how they'll ever keep Egon from teaching Hermoine...)
That's what I love about Egon, he *thinks* and he *talks* and he does the two *together*, it's just wonderful.
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Date: 2004-04-18 11:18 pm (UTC)Weirdly, though, I'm picturing movie Egon but the others in their guises from the cartoon.... Um, I think you've reminded me movie Egon kicks more ass than cartoon Egon, but the cartoon version of Ray seems so much more developed as a character, in my head. (Someone said to me the other day, "You like Dan Aykroyd." And I said, "Yeah, but how did you know?" She said, "Ray!" [because of course I wrote that Ray/Winston fic, and she was one of the first people to read it] But my response was, "That was cartoon Ray. Different.")
It's not as weird as you think.
Date: 2004-04-19 04:49 am (UTC)Re: It's not as weird as you think.
Date: 2004-04-19 08:03 pm (UTC)Yes, I think your Ray is sounding more like huggy-bouncy Cartoon Ray because your Ray comes off much more socialized than the almost autistic-seeming Movie Ray. (Or first movie Ray. I didn't see the second move - shame on me!)
Cartoon Winston is obviously much superior to the Movie Winston - he has actual character developement in the series. Peter's character was awfully slippery in the cartoon, but Peter's cartoon looks are just much more attractive than Bill Murray, therefor naturally what you'd prefer to imagine.;)
I think I like the mix of cartoon version with movie version.
Re: It's not as weird as you think.
Date: 2004-04-19 08:24 pm (UTC)The aether's been hungry this evening. I kept getting told 'journal not available while DB is down for maintenance'.
your Ray comes off much more socialized than the almost autistic-seeming Movie Ray.
Yeahhhh... as much as I like him spewing technobabble all over the place, the moment that defines Ray for me is the scene with the pole. Hearing the DVD commentary, and hearing them say that 'on this team Egon is the brains, Ray is the heart, and Peter is the mouth' made it pretty clear to me that I wanted the properly socialized, reasonably-capable-of-outside-world-interaction Ray to come to the fore.
I didn't see the second move - shame on me!
I did, in theatres. I wanted to like it, and I suppose I did, but it ultimately failed to make me happy the way the first did. I think I decided, watching it, that I was going to assume it was a blip and that cartoon continuity was preferable. (Not in those terms; I was barely into Star Trek fandom at the time, let alone anything else. But you get the idea.)
Cartoon Winston is obviously much superior to the Movie Winston - he has actual character developement in the series.
Oh heck yeah. In the movie he was just this other guy. *brief pause* Yeah, okay, the group very nearly meets the Five Character Theory of Anime criteria for a successful team. The Hero, the Brain, the Big Guy, the Other Guy, and The Chick are the five roles for that, but we'd have to put Ray down for The Brain and Egon for The Big Guy, as he's got the height... er... anyway. I found this lovely little page of canon tidbits gleaned from the series, about all of the characters in the cartoon- I'll be using it plenty, believe me.
Peter's cartoon looks are just much more attractive than Bill Murray, therefor naturally what you'd prefer to imagine.;)
Yep. Let Bill do the speaking and the nice artists do the image work, and I'm a happy camper.
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Date: 2004-04-19 01:35 pm (UTC)I seem to recall this, but can't recall specifics so may be on crack. OTOH, I haven't read much HP fanfic, so my brain's relatively uncluttered with fanon memes. Apply salt as needed.
-- Lorrie
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Date: 2004-04-19 02:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-19 08:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-19 09:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-20 02:47 am (UTC)Egon would win SO fast.
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Date: 2004-04-21 03:47 am (UTC)1) Why not Azkaban?
2) Hermione's Muggle-born. She'd recognize the Jedi Mind Whammy, right around the time the horror set in... wouldn't she?
-- Lorrie
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Date: 2004-04-21 04:50 am (UTC)2. Peter identified it before she could say anything. It's the mechanics that are bothering her, because she doesn't know what he did.
More will be explained in the next segment.