Disclaimer: I own nothing. I wish I did, but I don't. Sue me. Wait no, DON'T sue me. Yeah.
This story is dedicated to a girl I used to call my friend, because I hate and miss her.
The room was average. Nothing more or less than you would expect from a 17-year-old girl's bedroom. Her walls were painted a deep blue, and had different posters, pictures, and two calendars. Against one wall there was a simple bookshelf. The top shelf was filled with trophies from things like cheerleading to writing competitions. The next shelf down had Dozens of small statuettes, depicting several different fairies. Three shelves were filled with all sorts of different books from paperback science-fiction stories to thick, hardcover romance novels. The last and bottom-most shelf was basically filled with clutter. There was a strange looking golden necklace in a wooden display box. It had a medium sized chain, and featured a miniature hourglass inside a circle, that appeared as though it could be turned using two small knobs on the sides. There was also a piggy bank, a wooden owl and frog, an Indian-style drum, and some dull black rocks. Next to the bookshelf was a tall, silver lamp.
On the next wall, a wooden desk sat. On it was a white laptop, a set of speakers, a pencil holder, and a tissue box. There was also an iPhone 4. Its black case had a rainbow peace sign and several random splotches, so as to make it appear paint-spattered. There was also what seemed to be a textbook, lying open, and a picture. The picture featured a girl with extremely bushy light brown hair, white skin, and a wide smile, as if the picture had been taken as she was laughing. There were also two boys, both quite tall compared to her, one having red hair and freckles, the other having messy black hair and glasses. Both boys wore identical grins and were looking at the girl in the middle.
On the other side of the room, there were two closets, with a tall mirror in-between them, and a digital clock above that. A dresser sat opposite them, with a CD player, a hairbrush, some make-up, and what appeared to be an intricately designed stick.
Against the back of the dresser was a bed. The dark blue comforter was pulled up over the head of an unrecognizable lump. Long, wavy, dark brown hair could be seen protruding from the head of the lump. The figure in the bed began to stir.
Hermione Granger stretched as sat up in her bed. She blinked a couple times to get used to the lighting. Then, she pulled the covers off and slowly walked toward her calendar. When she saw what day it was, she smiled. September 1st. The day she would go back to school after a long summer. But when she saw the time, her smiled faded in an instant. 9:00. She only had two hours to get ready and get to King's Cross. She lived on the outskirts of London, so it wouldn't take too long to get there, but she knew her train left at exactly 11 o'clock.
Hermione first took a quick shower. When she got out, her hair was dripping wet. She wrapped a towel around it and got dressed. She wore a simple red halter that was tight at the top, but flowed nicely at the bottom. She wore some dark wash skinny jeans underneath with knee length black boots. She took off the towel and blow-dried her hair, so it turned out wavy. Then, she brushed it and put it in a high ponytail, with a couple strands left down to frame her face on each side. She applied just enough makeup so she still looked natural.
Taking one last look at herself, Hermione smiled. Her looks had quite improved over the summer. She had been in France the whole time, living there with her cousin. Not only, could she now speak French, but her cousin Victoire had also forced her into quite a makeover. Her hair was now a very dark brown, and fell in waves instead of its usual bushy mess. Her new subtle use of makeup enhanced her features. She'd grown very curvy and gained a couple inches. Her new wardrobe finished her off, making quite an improvement to her usual quiet bookworm self.
She grabbed her bags, which were already packed, stuffed the stick in her back pocket, and headed downstairs. She was eating a quick breakfast when her mom came downstairs.
"Is it the first already?" Mrs. Granger asked tiredly.
"Yes, Mom. I'm all packed and I'm leaving in a couple minutes," Hermione replied.
"You know, this is your 7th year at Hogwarts, and it still amazes me every morning when I wake up and tell myself, 'My daughter's a witch.'"
And it was true. Ever since she was 11, Hermione had attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with her best friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Of course, it wasn't until the end of last year that she and Ron were anything more than friends. Harry was raised by muggles, but in the wizarding world he was world-famous for surviving a murder attempt by the darkest wizard there ever was. Ron, however, was raised in a poor wizarding family of 7 children, him being the second youngest. Hermione's parents were both average muggle dentists, but that didn't stop her from being the smartest in their year.
Hermione finished her breakfast and Apparated to the bathroom at King's Cross Station. It was 10:50 now. Hermione briskly walked out of the bathroom and into the busy station. Looking around, she saw that she was by Platform 7. Continuing down the rows of trains, she finally came to Platforms 9 and 10. She looked around. Everyone looked too busy to notice her disappear in to the wall. So walking very nonchalantly, Hermione stepped through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾. Everyone had already arrived and was pretty much loaded onto the train. Scanning the platform, she quickly found Harry talking to Ginny through a window. Smiling wide, she practically ran to the door. Which is why it hurt that much more when she barreled into someone, seeing only a flash of platinum blonde hair before she had her face pressed flat against the ground.