The characters in this story come from the remarkable
imagination of J.K.Rowling. I am in awe of her talent. Her vivid
characterizations invade my thoughts and force me to write these stories.
The basic story idea is not an original one, but I cannot
remember where I heard it before. I think it was from a television sitcom I
watched in my childhood, possibly on “The Dick VanDyke Show”. Yes, I’m old.
I send a big thank you to my beta-reader, Ara Kane.
I hope you enjoy this silly story. Please review.
Trouble in the
Ron Weasley Appararated into the small kitchen and
immediately a grin spread across his face. The current tenant had to be the
most organized person he knew. Her personal touch was everywhere. Who else
but Hermione Granger would alphabetize everything in the pantry from the spices
to the canned vegetables? He glanced at the clock on the wall above the
stove. Bloody Hell, he thought to himself. Almost eight o’clock.
“I’m running a bit late,” he yelled in the direction of the
bedroom. Hermione’s reply sounded muffled and he could not make out what she
“Where are you?” he called out as he walked through the
He heard a faint answer of “…in the bath.”
Ron stopped in front of the bathroom door, knocked and said,
“Come on, Love, hurry up or we’ll miss our reservation.”
“Er, well…I don’t think I’m quite up to dinner and dancing
tonight. I’m having a bit of …trouble, Ron.”
“Oh, come on now. Quit fussing with your hair, it always
looks great to me. Let’s go!”
“No…it’s not that, Ron. I think I need a little, um…help,”
she called out and then in a quieter voice, “I seem to be….stuck.”
Having no idea what she could possibly be talking about, he
asked, “What do you want me to do?”
“Could you come in here? And promise you will not
Ron cautiously turned the knob, wondering what kind of a
scene he was walking into, and slowly pushed the door open a few inches. Crookshanks
shot out of the little bathroom like a cannon, ran past Ron and straight under
He peeked around the door and there she was, the girl he
loved, sitting in bubbles up to her chin, hair pulled into a knot atop her
head, candles burning on the edge of the tub (well at least one or two were
still burning), an empty wine bottle on the wet floor and… the big toe on her
left foot stuck up the tap!
“Don’t you DARE laugh!” she cried as a smile exploded
across his face. “This is NOT funny!”
“Oh, you have …never…been…more wrong …in your entire…life!” Ron
managed to spit out between chuckles. He ducked as she threw a bar of soap at
“I have been sitting in this bathtub for over an hour and a
half, the water is cold, my toe is stuck and I am turning into a PRUNE!”
she yelled. Hermione held up both of her hands, showing him her wrinkled palms,
to emphasize this point.
“Care to explain how the cleverest witch I know happened to
get herself into this predicament?” Ron asked as he dragged the stool from the
vanity to the side of the bathtub. He folded his arms across his chest and sat
down. “Oh, this is going to be SO good.”
Hermione had been looking forward to this evening’s plans
all week. Ron promised a night on the town, including dinner and dancing, to
celebrate his promotion in the Department for Regulations of Magical Games,
She was so proud of her Ron. He had been her Ron
ever since sixth year when their friendship had definitely shifted to something
“Crookshanks, he’s taking me dancing!” Hermione cooed to the
large ginger cat as she poured scented liquid into the tub and they both
watched the thick bubbles begin to form and rise with the water level. Having
access to the Prefects’ elegant bathroom at Hogwarts for three years, she had
grown rather found of a good soak in a perfumed tub. “This could be the
night, you know. He has moved up the ladder at the Ministry and may be ready
to settle down. Settle down with me! And you, too,” she added when the
cat blinked up at her. “How would you like to share a flat with Pig, hmm?” The
feline’s tail twitched in agreement.
“Let’s set the mood for a little pampering and relaxation,
shall we?” she said to Crookshanks as she lit several scented candles that were
placed around the edge of the tub, poured a glass of Chardonnay and slipped
into the steamy water.
She reflected on just how far she had come in the world:
from that eager little eleven-year-old on her first visit to Diagon Alley, to
the career witch she was today. First Assistant to the Head Librarian at the
Ministry of Magic Library was quite an accomplishment for a Muggle-born of
twenty-two. Her thoughts were interrupted when something brushed her thigh
beneath the bubbles.
Hermione fished a red rubber ball, one of Crookshanks’
favorite toys, out of the soapy water. “How did this get in here? Here you
go, my sweet baby, want to play ball?” she asked. She tossed it so that the
ball would ricochet from one wall to the other, and having been charmed to do
so, would keep bouncing until caught. The cat immediately took to the chase,
hitting the bathroom door with such force that he caused it to slam shut.
“Now you’ve done it. You are stuck in here with me till I’m
done, you silly.”
He was so intent on his “prey” that Crookshanks followed the
bouncing ball right into the tub just as Hermione took a long sip from her
wineglass. A wave of water drenched them both as well as a candle or two, knocking
her back as she coughed and choked on the wine.
That was when it happened. As her head went back, her legs
flew up and her big toe went right up the tap opening and wedged itself in
“Oh dear!” she exclaimed. The more she squirmed, the
tighter it felt. “Ooooh, it must be swelling! Crookshanks, what am I going to
do? My wand is in the bedroom and I seem to be stuck!”
A feeling of panic rose up in her as she assessed the
situation. Her toe was stuck good and proper and it was now beginning to throb.
How humiliating this would be if someone had to come to her rescue. As luck
would have it, Ron was the only person she expected that night. She would never
live this down!
“Right, I need to stay calm and try to relax. Good thing
the wine bottle is still within reach. You look like you could use some, too,
but seeing as you are a cat, I’ll not be sharing with you. It’s all for me.”
Crookshanks sat on the oval rug, his back to Hermione, and began licking his
And so she drank and soaked. Refilled her glass and soaked.
She was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. That toe will slip out
any moment now, she thought to herself as the warmth of the wine washed
over her. But the reality was that the toe was not budging.
She was getting a little drowsy, feeling a little numb and
must have drifted off to sleep after a bit, because the next thing her brain
registered (other than the throbbing toe) was the sound of Ron’s voice calling
out to her from the front room.
Ron was doing his best to keep from laughing out loud as
Hermione told her tale.
“Will you quit smirking and cast an Enlarging Charm on that
pipe so I can get OUT OF THIS TUB?”, she exclaimed. “I’m freezing,
“Now, just a minute! How often will an opportunity like
this present itself, when I have you as such a captive audience?” Ron
joked. “Give me a moment to think of how to use this to my advantage.”
“Ronald Weasley, if you do not get me out of here right now,
you will be sorry…very sorry! I cannot emphasize this enough. Ginny’s taught
me some of her best hexes and I’m not afraid to use them!” Hermione had gone
past feeling embarrassed and was working up to a good rage.
“Okay, okay, I’ll rescue you,” he said as he pulled out his
wand. “But first, you have to answer one question for me. Your little problem
has put me in quite the spot, you know. It took a lot of effort on my part to
plan a wonderful evening for us tonight and I believe many people will be
disappointed now that we have to make a trip to St. Mungo’s instead of the
restaurant. Looks like you won’t be dancing tonight!”
“What are you going on about? Go ahead, take advantage of
my current state and ask your stupid question, you coward. But just do it in a
BLOODY HURRY so I can receive some BLOODY MEDICAL ATTENTION!”
“Hermione Jane,” said Ron in mock surprise, “watch your
She shot him a scathing look.
He cleared his throat as he went down on one knee by the
side of the tub. “I would be honored to be your knight in shinning armor and
rescue you in your time of need, my Love, tonight and every day for the rest of
our lives. I love you, Hermione. Will you marry me?” And with that he retrieved
something from his pocket and slipped a diamond ring on her finger. The small
stone in a setting of silver was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen.
He leaned in to kiss her.
“Ron, my toe…please,” was all she could quietly say.
“Oh, yeah,” he replied as he cast the Enlargement spell.
With a loud pop, her toe was free.
“Ow, now it really hurts!” she cried.
“Let’s get you into this robe and off to the hospital, shall
Ron helped her to stand and wrapped a thick terrycloth robe
“Once I have you safely at St. Mungo’s, I’ll just pop in at
the restaurant to let everyone know what happened…”
“NO, promise you won’t tell…wait…everyone? What are
you talking about?”
“Well, I just…you know… invited your parents, my parents,
Harry and the rest of my family. They’re all there waiting for…”
Hermione held up her hand to silence him. “DON’T tell them
what really happened! Make something up! Say I hit my toe on the table leg,
or something. No one needs to know the real story of what happened tonight.
This story needs to belong to just us…and our children.”
Ron looked deep into her eyes and held her close. “Is that
a “yes“, then?”
She looked up at him with the most loving gaze she could
muster through her pain and said sweetly, “Only if you promise our first flat
will have a shower, I’ve seem to have lost my fondness for baths!”