Hermione sighed contentedly as she nestled softly into the guest bed. She, along with Harry and half of the Weasley clan were staying at the Burrow, most of whom were awake and downstairs preparing breakfast. She felt a little guilty about not helping out, but it had been a while since she'd had a nice sleep and she was going to take advantage of the prospect of sleeping in for once. With Voldemort finally gone, she didn't have to worry about waking up in the middle of the night in a small, dingy tent and fleeing from Death Eaters.
Hermione smiled, closing her eyes. "I could get used to this." The screech of an unfamiliar owl broke Hermione's thoughts, and her eyes fluttered back open. Ginny's squeal of delight echoed throughout the house, followed by a loud pounding of feet on the stairs. Suddenly, the door to Ginny's room flung open making the lying Hermione jump in surprise and hold her hand to her frantic heart. "Merlin, Ginny! You almost gave me a heart attack!" the brunette said to her fiery friend.
"Sorry 'Mione," the latter said, quite unapologetically. "but the Hogwarts letters are here!" Hermione stared at her confusedly, then slowly voiced her thoughts.
"Letters? As in, more than one? But... Harry, Ron, and I have already completed all seven years! Well, 'completed' being very poor word choice..." she faded out. In fact, during their 7th year, the "Golden Trio,"- as known by the public -had been hiding across England searching for Voldemort's horcruxes. The only time they had even gone back to Hogwarts was to find Ravenclaw's Diadem, one of the 7 horcruxes, and to help fight in the final battle. Pulling her thoughts back to the present, Hermione looked questioningly toward the youngest Weasley.
"Oh, don't ask questions, and come see for yourself!" Ginny cried excitedly. Hermione started to roll out of bed, when Ginny caught her arm and heaved her out, pulling her toward the stairs. She didn't let go until they had made it down the stairs and into the kitchen where everyone was seated at the table.
"Ouch, Gin. I would have come without you yanking my arm out of its' socket." Hermione said, massaging her left shoulder. She sat down with the others, and looked at the large barn owl currently munching on Ron's unattended bacon. Ron, along with Harry and Ginny, were too busy ripping into their envelopes to notice the owl sneaking their food. Hermione looked toward the center of the table, where one more envelope sat unopened. She picked it up and also started to tear into it. Inside were two pieces of parchment and a shiny, golden badge . Hurriedly, she took the first sheet of parchment out and began reading.
Miss Hermione Granger,
You have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This letter may come as a shock to you, as you are no longer a 7th year; but because of incidents priar this Summer, 7th years will be welcomed back to finish their schooling without distractions in the new 8th year program. We are aware that many of you have no desire to come back to Hogwarts, and respect that only those wishing to complete their schooling will do so. Please send a response by owl no later than July the 31st. We hope to see you soon.
Head Mistress,
Minerva McGonnagal
Following the acceptance were a list of items they'd need to bring for their 8th year. Hermione read them happily, and let out a cheerful laugh. "Wonderful! Now we'll be able to take our end of year exams!" Hermione had been rather sad that she had never gotten the oppurtunity last year at school to complete the tests, and now she would be able to! Ron looked at her skeptically as Harry rolled his eyes.
"Godric, Hermione. You know how to put a damper on things, don't you? " Ron said, finally noticing the owl and shooing it off of his half-empty plate. Mrs. Weasley hushed Ron, before piling more bacon onto her son's lacking plate, who accepted it gratefully and started inhaling the greasy gift. Harry snickered at his food-loving friend, then noticing Hermione's envelope, pointed toward it.
"What've you got there, 'Mione?" he questioned, looking at the bulky envelope. Hermione's eyes followed where he pointed, then slid the rest of the envelope's contents into her hand. She quickly read it aloud to the group.
Miss Hermione Granger,
We are pleased to announced that you have been chosen as Head Girl- We do, of course, realize that you may not wish to return to Hogwarts this year, and we will find someone else if you do not accept this title. However, having you in this position could benefit not only you, but would greatly impact our school for good. Please send an answer by owl no later than the date previously mentioned. If you accept, please locate the Head compartment on the Hogwarts Express so we can discuss the duties and privelages this title brings.
Head Mistress,
Minerva McGonnogal
By the end of the letter, Hermione was smiling widely, looking at the badge in her hand, and Mrs. Weasley ran across the kitchen to engulf her in an enormous hug that made Hermione's eyes water. "OH HERMIONE DEAR! Head Girl! It feels as if my own daughter has recieved the title! You will accept of course, correct? Oh my! ARTHUR! GET IN HERE AND CELEBRATE WITH US!" Molly's yells of joy had Hermione's ears ringing, along with the bone-crushing hug that didn't allow much air to enter her lungs.
"Geez, Mum! Calm down! Do you want to make Hermione pass out?" Ginny scolded. In an instant, Hermione was able to breathe again as Molly apologized frantically. Just then, Mr. Weasley walked into the room with a grin on his face as he looked at the badge Hermione was holding.
"Well, Head Girl, ah Hermione? I knew you'd wear that badge one day! You're not known as the 'Brighest Witch of Her Age' for nothing!" he said cheerfully as he embraced her in a gentler, fatherly hug. Hermione blushed at the nickname the wizarding world had deemed her.
"Thank you Mr. Weasley!" Hermione said happily as she pulled away from hug. She then turned toward Molly. "Of course I'll be accepting! I've always wanted to be Head Girl!" she smiled. Yes, Hermione thought. I could definitely get used to this.