While working on a longer story, I stumbled on an odd detail. The fictional Ottery St. Catchpoole, where the Burrow is located, is in Devon. According to Google Maps, by taking the A30 out of Exeter to the A303 to the M3 to Kings Cross Station in London is approximately 200 miles and just over 4 hours of driving. Taking three taxis that distance, considering all the other magical means of travel felt ridiculous to me, even before calculating the expense.

Given that, and needing a break from writing said longer story, I proposed writing a few drabbles exploring this to Pax Humana. These four are the results of our efforts.

A Growing Boy

By: Pax Humana

A four hour ride.

Molly Weasley had braved the telephone in the village post office to order three ordinary taxis to take everyone into London for the ride to Hogwarts. That would have been odd enough, given her at best tolerant attitude to Arthur's obsession with Muggles. What was really weird, though, was that it was an hours long ride from their village in Devon into King's Cross.

Within the first five minutes of the ride, Hermione had pulled out some light reading, just 300 pages or so, and Ron had tried to talk to Harry about the chances for the Cannons to make the League finals. Since the Cannons were firmly in last place and would not only need to win all seven of their last matches, plus the fact that their driver was a Muggle, Harry elbowed Ron to shut him up. Honestly, between the miserable weather and Ron's obsession with his team, Harry was in a right mood.

Being directed to sit in the middle by Molly Weasley because he was the smallest hadn't done anything to improve it, either. Sure, it was true but he was so a growing boy, damn it, and he didn't like being reminded of his lack of vertical inches.

"At least other parts are growing," Harry muttered quietly.

Unfortunately, he forgot that he was far from alone when he said that. While Ron had pulled out his post-breakfast snack of a couple of sandwiches and was dead to the world as he devoured them, Hermione was far more observant and whispered in his ear a question. Surely he couldn't have been talking about 'that' right in front of her?

"What was that, Harry?" She was blushing slightly but Harry couldn't work out why.

He shrugged. Gryffindors forward and all of that rot.

"I said, at least other bits are growing, even if I'm not growing tall as fast as some." Harry darted a quick glare at Ron who had just spilled devilled egg on Harry's shirt.

"How can you talk about it so openly?" Hermione's blush grew as he seemed to confirm her earlier suspicions.

"It's not like I'm ashamed of it, Hermione." Really, why should he care how big his feet got? Anyone could see them if they wanted, anyway.

"Quiet, Harry." Hermione hissed at him and turned back to her book, blush now almost Weasley red.

The clueless boy just sighed and opened up his book on classical duelling. Despite the out of place copy of Michelangelo's drawing of the human body on the cover, it was all about magical combat. The author advised doing exercise every day, giving examples of various walks or climbs, in order to prepare the wizard for a possible duel. "A sound body leads to a sound magic" was an oft-repeated phrase but despite the persuasive rather than informative slant, Harry found himself enjoying the content.

It wasn't as good as flying a broom, or even as good as a nice evening in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room, but Harry did enjoy reading for pleasure. At least, when he got to choose which books he read, he did.

Ron had taken one look at both his friends reading and gave up, letting his head fall back against the seat and falling asleep without a problem.

An hour later, Harry had just finished a chapter on duelling etiquette, liberally sprinkled with the author exhorting him to exercise despite the irrelevance, when Hermione dug an elbow into his ribs.

"What?"

"How big?"

"Hmm?"

"How big? You said your- your bits are growing and I was curious." Hermione's blush was even more intense as she whispered the question to him, trailing off even quieter at the end as she admitted to her shameful curiosity. All sorts of figures were going through her head, ever since he had so casually thrown that out there, and despite her best efforts, she had to know.

"Oh, I don't know. I don't measure that often but certainly bigger than Ron's. I couldn't believe he's that small down there." Indeed, it had confused Harry how his redheaded friend managed to stay upright with feet that were smaller than his sister's. Despite the figurative big feet Ron had at times, pushing into things that weren't really his business, like the Firebolt, his actual feet seemed more like Harry's had been before starting Hogwarts.

"Just bigger than Ron's?" Hermione asked in an odd tone though Harry didn't pick up on it in his distraction.

"Bigger than the other guys in the dorm or on the team, too, come to that. I mean, I understand why Malfoy's so small, I guess, thanks to what Dobby said." After all, Dobby had told Harry that Draco was carried everywhere rather than walking, but what about the other wizards who weren't that rich? It was weird. Maybe small feet were a Pureblood thing? He'd mention the idea to Hermione later, see if she thought it was worth doing research, then put it out of his mind.

Hermione's eyes widened and for a moment, she understood exactly how Lavender felt when she got some juicy gossip and wanted to share it. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what Dobby had told Harry about Malfoy, let alone why, feeling a little ill at the thought of Malfoy's bits, but the information about not just Harry but the Gryffindor Quidditch team and the other new Fourth Year students would be worth its weight in gold. The other girls might finally listen to her with respect!

Harry went back to his book, Ron kept on snoring, the driver kept his radio up loud to drown out the snoring, and Hermione Granger, bibliophile and witch, was reduced to staring at nothing while waiting for her brain to stop buzzing.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~~

By the end of the trip, Harry was confused but thankfully no longer pissed off. Hermione had passed over a sock when Ron's snoring got too bad and Harry had got the chance to try out the old expression on his best mate.

While everyone was surprised that literally putting a sock in it hadn't woken Ron, they were grateful for the peace and quiet and Hermione drew him into a conversation. They talked about the book he was reading, why it had the picture of a naked man and woman on the cover, which Harry didn't know and told her so, and about their plans for the year, Harry idly mentioned wanting to have a fun year with new excitement rather than the old one, hopefully implying their life and death adventures at Hogwarts without mentioning them in front of the Muggle driver.

Hermione, however, had her mind in the gutter from trying to subtly find out if Harry's boasts were true and immediately pictured Harry doing this and that with a pretty girl. She was shocked at herself when she found herself rubbing against Harry as he showed her his book and flirting heavily. While Harry hadn't reacted, he hadn't rejected her unconscious advances and she gave her messy-haired friend an extra smile.

Harry followed her out of the cab, blinking owlishly when Hermione had swayed her hips just for him. Surely he had to be dreaming. She'd never done that before.

"Harry!" The voice of one of the twins snapped him out of it and the trio headed over to Fred and George as the drivers got their luggage out and onto the footpath.

"How was the trip? Not too boring, being cooped up with Hermione? She must have read the whole way."

"No, she was great. It was Ron who decided to grab an extra nap but he still has some growing to do." Harry ribbed the ginger, grinning.

"Sure do! Anyone got some food?"

Hermione ignored Ron's ramblings on the subject of food now that he'd confirmed Harry's information. After the way she'd hurt Harry earlier over a silly broom, Hermione finally had the perfect way to make it up to him and she got out a notebook and pen to write a list of things to do that year.

Right at the top was telling her dorm mates the news. Or should she keep this quiet and help Harry have some new excitement herself? What was a best friend to do?

Lavender

By: Pax Humana

The scent of old books and lavender was driving him mad.

Harry, Hermione and Ron had been bundled into the back of a cab for a ride from Ottery St. Catchpole in Devon to King's Cross station in the middle of London. Pretty quickly after they got in, Ron decided to catch up on some sleep lost to his mother's early morning wake up yelling. With the redhead facing away from them and laying mostly on his side, he was surprisingly snore-free, something Harry especially was grateful for, but now, he was bored and the scent was making it worse.

Unfortunately, Harry couldn't mention it because the witch to his left was the source and he didn't want to start an argument over a misunderstanding, which left Harry bored, distracted and looking for something, anything, to talk about. Since the cab had a divider up between the driver and passengers, he couldn't talk to the old man to ease his boredom and he looked around, trying to think of something to discuss with his best female friend instead.

"Why a cab?" Harry blurted out, turning to face her.

"Hmm?" Hermione looked up from her book of 'light reading'.

"Why did Mrs Weasley book cabs for us to get to King's Cross?"

"She couldn't get a car that would fit us all, Harry. You heard what she said." Hermione replied, giving him a look to remind him of the cabbie.

"He can't hear us, Hermione, and he wouldn't care about it anyway. He's already getting paid -" Harry leaned forward to see. "He's already getting paid over forty quid for this fare and we've got ages to go yet."

"Let me see. Wow."

"So how's she going to afford it?" Harry asked quietly, mindful of their sleeping friend's sensibility.

"Harry?"

"She was having trouble getting new school books so why did she choose such a costly way of getting to London. Surely there were other ways that were cheaper. Quicker, too, for that matter. We're going to be here for hours yet, unable to get up and stretch. Think of Crookshanks in his cat carrier."

Hermione swallowed what she was about to say and actually thought of what Harry was telling her.

She knew there was a Floo in the Burrow, of course, they'd seen Mr Diggory use it just that morning, though that was to talk, not travel. She also knew there were Floos available in Diagon Alley such as the Leaky Cauldron, which would have put them in London itself. Floo powder wasn't free but a Knut or two's worth of powder would have taken the whole group most of the way, cutting off nearly two hundred miles from their trip.

If money was so tight that they couldn't spend any on new dress robes for Ron or a dozen other things for their kids, how did they have over, she ran a quick estimate, over 150 Galleons to waste on this? Hermione had a worry that it had something to do with Harry.

Then again, most things in their world had something to do with Harry Potter.

"I don't know, Harry. You're right, plenty of cheaper ways to get us all in there. We could have taken the train or bus, or..." She trailed off, glancing at the cabbie.

"Do you think it's like the lottery winnings?" Harry asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they won the prize in the newspaper, remember. What did they do?"

"They went on holiday."

"Yeah, to Egypt. The whole family."

"They missed Bill."

"For six whole weeks? Ron mentioned in his letter that they blew most of their winnings on the trip. I'm sure there were better uses of the money than that, like fixing up the Burrow. "

Hermione nodded. While getting to see their eldest was good, it wasn't necessary to stay that long and it certainly wasn't free. It looked like the Weasley family's inability to save was just that.

"I think you were right, two years ago."

"Of course I was right, Harry." Hermione shook her head, smiling, as she cast her mind back. "But right about what, exactly?"

"A lot of wizards don't have any common sense."

Harry was startled when Hermione snorted loudly. He checked but Ron was still dead to the world and glared briefly at her for scaring him like that.

"It took you this long to work that out?"

"Well, no."

Hermione nodded and then looked seriously at him. "So you were right about the cabs. You knew that when you brought it up, Harry. What aren't you saying?"

"What do you mean?"

"You only brought it up to have something to talk about, which means you're hiding something, Harry James Potter."

Harry sighed. He'd hoped to keep her distracted as well as himself but now that she reminded him. "I like the smell of lavender."

"Lavender Brown?!"

Seeing the warning signs, Harry hastily shook his head. "No, not her. The flower!"

"Ok, the flower. So what does that have to do with anything?"

"I've had the smell of that and old books filling my head since we got in the cab. It was driving me crazy." Harry confessed.

"I can't smell anything of the sort." Hermione shot a look at Ron whose olfactory presence was drowning out the more subtle scents Harry was talking about.

"Oh, I long since learned to ignore it, but I can't ignore this one."

"Are you saying you hate the smell of old books and lavender." Hermione asked in a careful tone Harry knew well.

"Merlin, no. The opposite." Harry said mournfully. He was afraid Hermione would hit him or worse, hate him.

"Oh? Oh." Hermione gave him a little smile and kissed his cheek, deciding to give him a reward later for the complement. "Thank you, Harry, but we'll talk about that later. Why don't you bring your cloak downstairs after dinner?"

Harry looked up and searched her face, finding no hint of condemnation.

"Ok."

This cab ride wasn't such a bad idea after all. Maybe Mrs Weasley would let him pay her back for her help.

Squeezed in the Back

By: Cloud Zen

For the past two hours, Harry Potter had been squeezed between his best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, in the back of a muggle taxi. Two hours of his uncomfortable squirming, Hermione's occasional shifting, and, worst of all, Ron's snoring as he slept the ride away.

Two hours in. Two hours to go. Harry couldn't wait for the ride to end.

"Why did Mrs Weasley think this was a good idea?" Harry finally asked.

Hermione looked up from her book. "What do you mean?"

"They live in Devon. It's a four hour drive to London from there. Add in the fact that we're taking three taxis just to fit everybody, it's got to cost them a fortune. I didn't even know taxi drivers would take fares this far."

Closing her book, Hermione began to scratch between Crookshanks's ears. "Harry, that's quite enough. If this is how they want to get to Kings Cross, then that's entirely their business. We should be grateful they're paying for our trip there."

Knowing when he was losing an argument with Hermione, Harry opted to return to silence. Growing up with the Dursleys had led him to be very aware of how much things cost. Being constantly reminded of how expensive a child he allegedly was resulted in the awareness being burned into his mind.

Going back to staring out the front windscreen, Harry tried to occupy his mind with something other than the absurd expense of the trip. As the southern English countryside droned on, Harry's mind was begging for something else to distract him. They were still, easily over an hour from London.

Shifting in his seat, Harry heard an eep! to his right. Looking down, he realized his hand had found its way into Hermione's lap!

"Sorry!" he exclaimed, pulling his hand back.

Hermione's face was burning with a blush as she squeaked out an answer. "No, it's okay. Don't worry about it. It was an accident."

As luck would have it, Harry's attempt to pull away disturbed Ron. A unholy snore ripped from him as he fell over against Harry. Ron, as big as he was, pushed Harry over with ease. Twisting to avoid crushing Hermione, Harry displaced a now very angry half-kneezle who batted him with surprising strength.

Harry found himself pinned by a hulking, asleep Ron and Crookshanks who thankfully kept his claws retracted as he repeatedly beat on Harry while trying to climb back into his mistress's lap. Pushing against the door, Harry was able to shoulder Ron back upright. Harry let out a sigh of relief.

"Harry?"

Sitting back up he looked over at his bushy-haired friend. "Hm?"

When she remained quiet, Harry took to examining her. As he looked down, he saw her arms crossed in front of her body, squeezing fiercely. Even as Crookshanks tried to reseat himself, Hermione refused to move her arms.

"What's the matter, Hermione?"

Harry continued to press for an answer because the blush on her face had yet to subside. In fact, it only intensified as she slowly pulled her arms away.

Despite trying his best not to embarrass the girl, Harry's eyes widened.

Hermione's blouse was now missing several buttons and Harry had a clear view through the gap created by that change.

"When Ron pushed you over, your glasses got caught," she whispered, hoping to not draw the attention of their driver.

Fighting the urge to panic, Harry whispered back. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean, I mean, Ron pushed me and-" It was undeniable that Harry was now fully aware how feminine one of his best friends was.

However, seeing her shrink in on herself, Harry backpedaled. "I mean, you're very pretty and I didn't mind it, but I still, I mean, they're lovely and, just-" Harry stumbled over his words trying to find some way to make it up to his friend.

Finally deciding discretion was the better part of valor, Harry stopped talking. With his hands in his lap and pointedly looking down, five long minutes of silence passed. To Harry, it felt as if an eternity had come and gone.

He felt Hermione lean against him. Her breath tickled his ear as she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for being so sweet," she whispered.

Moments later, Harry found his fingers intertwined with hers, pulled back into her lap. Hermione still had one arm across her body, holding her blouse closed, but the one holding Harry's was gently running her thumb over his. Crookshanks seemed to not mind sharing his mistress's lap with the two hands as he simply melted into a puddle on her lap as only felines could hope to do.

When Harry was sure his heart wouldn't beat its way out of his chest, Harry began to wonder if he could convince the driver to take the scenic route. He wasn't sure if he ever wanted the ride to end.

The Long Ride

By: Cloud Zen

September first was always hectic for the Weasley family. This year, Mrs Weasley had ordered three Muggle taxis since her husband was unable to acquire Ministry transportation. After wrestling six trunks, three overly excited pets, and eight people into three taxis amidst fireworks going off and other general madness, they departed just after dawn from the Burrow.

For the last half hour, Harry Potter found himself extremely distracted. He and Hermione Granger were in the back of one taxi just passing through Exeter on their way to Kings Cross Station to depart for their fourth year at Hogwarts. The Weasleys were crammed into the two other taxis while Harry and Hermione had been allowed the extra room and comfort of traveling with just the two of them.

Harry found himself watching Hermione as they hit the occasional bounce along the roads.

His best friend was most definitely a girl.

Every time they hid a small bump, Harry's eyes snapped to her chest to see the small jiggle. He had tried to focus on other things, the countryside, the feeling of speed, the simple but nice interior of the taxi, but every bump drew his attention. He kept his glances discreet, looking out of the corner of his vision, doing his best to keep his head facing forwards or at least away from her. However, his eyes were kept focused so far down that he never saw the expression on Hermione's face that his attentions was causing.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Hermione Granger smiled to herself. When Harry had first glanced at her, she was about to ask what he needed. That was, until she realized he was not looking at her face. He was looking at her chest.

She knew Harry was aware of girls. He had a crush on Cho Chang most of the last year but at the moment he wasn't looking at the older Ravenclaw seeker. He was looking as his friend of three years.

And she was flattered.

Once she realized what he was doing, she had opted to observe him for a while. Every bump on the road drew his attention. It was flattering. It was empowering. It was wonderful.

After almost an hour of letting him think he was getting away with secretive looks, Hermione decided to up the ante. She moaned softly as she rolled her shoulders, arching her back slightly, causing her chest to be thrust a touch forward. She watched as his head fought the urge to swivel around to stare at her, having to fight her own giggles. It was so cute how he was obviously trying to be a gentleman.

As she relaxed her choreographed stretch, Hermione caught Harry noticeably dry swallow. She had his undivided attention and would for the next two and a half hours. Hermione almost burst out in a mad cackle at the possibilities flowing through her mind.

She spend the next several minutes occasionally twisting and stretching, giving Harry every excuse she could to stare at her. She even loosened the top two buttons on her blouse. With that, Harry went from being mostly unobtrusive with his glances to mouth hanging open, practically staring with hints of drool forming.

Hermione didn't bother hiding the confident smirk on her face at Harry's situation. She gave a small, throat clearing cough, before she stretch a leg high. She brought it down, crossing it far over her other leg, just far enough so her foot could tease his calf.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Harry froze at the contact. Hermione was mindlessly stroking his calf with her foot as she thumbed through a random book. Refusing to move for fear of drawing attention to himself, Harry focused on the London buildings they were slowly creeping past. Unsure whether he wanted to panic or revel at her touch, Harry began mentally reciting every Quidditch foul he could remember while staring out the window.

Finally, after a torturous hour of Harry fighting every impulse to stare at or even reach out and touch Hermione, the caravan finally pulled to a stop outside Kings Cross Station. The group of eight plus two drivers rushed, fighting the wind and rain, to get unloaded.

Drenched, lugging heavy trunks, and carrying very wet and unhappy pets in cages, the Weasley herd made their way into the station followed by Harry, Hermione with their own burdens. Fighting their way through the mass of people, they approached the entrance to Platform 9¾.

When the redheads pushed through the barrier first, Hermione stopped next to Harry. She surprised him, leaning up to whisper in his ear completely unseen by the Weasley family and their hovering matriarch.

"Maybe we can find a compartment for ourselves so we can continue where we left off in the taxi," Hermione whispered huskily. "After the way you would skive off whenever I mention doing a little extra studying, I'm glad I finally got to show you what paying attention gets you. I thought the last four hours were fun. Didn't you?"

Just before pulling away, she gave his ear a little lick and nibble.

Shocked, Harry watched as Hermione pushed her trolley through the barrier. He barely registered the extra sway in her hips but somehow he knew he would not soon forget the sight now burned into his memory.

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