RIVALRY

Chapter One
Midnight Blues

Hideous cows! All of them! I will not stand to be bullied for this teenage nonsense I want no part of. Except I am a part of it, thanks to his moronic pain in the butt, and by that I mean the lowlife scoundrel Ronald Weasley! Stupid, stupid and stupider! I let myself fall for that boy on a feeling in my gut and he just… DUMPS ME FOR ANOTHER GIRL? Ugh! The lowlife men they set themselves up to be from an act like so; I'd curse him for it if he wasn't already doomed. But now I get the blame?

Rumour has it it's all my fault I didn't try hard enough in our relationship.

I confess, our spark was out before we even acknowledged what it meant… But did I not treat him as well as a girlfriend would do? Did I not hold his hand in public? Did I not share intimate secrets in the bedroom and be loyal, although I had run out of reasons to stay? I had hope we'd fix ourselves.

We lost our old touch, we were never meant to be; he and I both knew it of course and discussed future actions. His words were,

"I don't think I'm ready to lose you just yet… Can we give this some time?"

Words of a snake. One week later I was crammed into the corner by Grace Hemsworth only to hear some nonsense gossip that my boyfriend was caught snogging Sarah Jespersen.

It was true. I confronted him head on with confidence in the Great Hall, and that balloon-head had the nerve to rise with a bright smirk and unravelled his less-than-impressive speech.

"Hermione. I think it's time we have a little talk… We are over. Sorry love, better luck next time."

Not one letter followed. Break was longer without them and I hadn't received any from either Harry, Ginny or Luna. Of course I don't expect an Owl dropping off one marked from Ronald Weasley.

Still, I guess with Harry staying the summer at the Weasley home and Ginny being his sister they were more bound to be on his side, and Luna was probably who knows where on a majestic adventure.

I only had my dear Crookshanks as company for these past few lonely months, and as he danced across my bare windowsill I sighed with boredom. He peppered his paws quickly along the long boarder of my window-seat and circled into a comfy spot in the corner.

"Comfy there?" I shook my head with a grin.

He tilted his orange head, staring at me with anticipation. Why was my mouth flapping like that at him and what on earth do I want with him now? More cuddling up in front of the TV while drowning in ice cream, tears and repeats of those dumb chick-flick movies I missed out on in the world of magic?

I suppose when you're alone and going crazy they're actually quite good. They were just lying in a stack in the living room; every miserably sad movie to remind single women that meanwhile Rachel McAdams is living up every romantic fantasy we all dream about.

I sigh, skimming my fingers down the stack of movies. What to watch next? The Titanic or change it up a little and watch a Disney movie? Let's change the rules shall we and get a bit crazy; Disney movie it is.

I curl up under my bed sheets, spooning a pillow between my legs and hold Crookshanks to my chest against his will. He hisses lightly and I growl in a mean response.

As Charlotte's Web begins, he tosses under my arm and struggles to break free from my grasp. In a swift pounce he slithers his fat body across the bed and pounces as far away from me.

"Crookshanks! Come back here and love me you nasty cat!" I whine.

"You're one sad excuse for a human you know that?" a body emerges through my window with amused laughter. My neighbour, and a very human one I might add, sprouted her leg over my window sill and pulled the rest of her torso the way through with ease.

I jump at her sudden entrance.

"Maddison!" I screech, holding my sheets up as my supposed self-defence. If it were a real murderer I doubt these cotton blankets will stop a bullet from piercing through my chest, or even a plastic fork.

"Hey stranger," she smirks and comes to a balanced stance in my bedroom.

Maddison had a reputation for being a badass. Of course I'd grown up with her my whole life and knew about every one of her adventures. Since we were both little tots her parents knew she would become a trouble maker and I a great success in maturity. Her as a four-year old was a lot to handle for any adult or nanny; throwing plates, chucking tantrums over ridiculous things!

"What are you doing here?" I settle my heart rate, though a fresh flash of sweat now beads my forehead and underarms moistly. Gross, I just had a shower too.

"You should be thanking me I'm here now, that poor cat was about to throw itself out the window 9 times. Every night you've been crying through dumb girly movies with him and it's just sad. You need to get out of the house," she rolls her eyes.

"I have not!" I defend pathetically. But when she looks me in the eyes with one eyebrow stalking my every word, I stutter.

"That's what I thought. Plus I can see your window from mine, you should know that by now."

I sigh, shaking my head at the girl, "besides, I can't go out, my mother will be home at 11."

Maddison strolls around the boarder of my room, stroking my belongings and I pull each thing from her hands. I don't like people going through my things…

"Hermione…" she stiffly exhales a thick breath of warning, "your mother goes out at least 6 nights a week, and when has she ever come home at 11 on her word? Exactly, she won't be back until the suns up love."

I look down in shame. She was right. Every night this Summer has been; "I'm catching up with some friends, be home later," or "I'm going out, be home at 11," or "sorry I missed your birthday, I had a last minute lunch with my boss."

She was wild and out of control and completely unaware she was a mom of 45 years of age. Sometimes I'd cry in the night softly because I'm afraid I'll be heard, and then I remember there was nobody to wake to hear my desperate whimpering. I cried for my mother's old loving touch when she'd trace light tickles over my back to send me to sleep or my father to sneak me a small chocolate when she wasn't looking like they used too.

But mother was out and father was in New York, never to return. I hadn't even known they'd separated last year.

I called dad later with so much hatred. How could he let their marriage fall apart? Wasn't he the one that told me he was more than in love with his wife?

Maddison had pulled me up from the sidewalk the next day and told me she always heard them fighting over things and they'd just lost their touch. Whenever he got home from work mom wouldn't run out and let him spin her around then take her in a sweet lingering kiss like he did every afternoon.

They just… Stopped being in love.

"Please," Maddison puckered her lips like a pouting pup, "you and I both need this. You need to get laid!"

I almost flinch at her use of words. Laid? As in a one night stand? With a boy? Oh no, oh no, no, no! I am not that kind of girl! I've slept with one man in my life and that was Ron. He was gentle at first, though not so pleasing to say the least. Perhaps… too soft, and I wasn't talking about his male parts; they erected quite easily to be honest. If I sat next to him, grazed my hand on his knee or showed him my bra, BAM, it was up like a giraffe's neck. It was quite embarrassing to be honest; you couldn't take him anywhere.

"I'm not like you, Maddison, I don't go out clubbing as often as you. I wouldn't even be able to get laid if I knew where to start!"

She shrugs without shame, "you just grind on them for a bit and let them feel your boobs. It's easy. Then after that they take you home."

"I don't know about this…" I hesitate.

She scoffs, running out of patience, "come on! My friend's bailed on me tonight and you only mailed me back two letters this year. The least you can do is be my wingman tonight!"

"Wing-woman," I correct.

"No."

I bow my head, right, she wasn't in contact with her feminine side. "Now come with me, those bitches left their dresses at my place so we could all get ready and leave together, but now they're yours."

Wait what?! Maddison pulls on my hand and tugs me with a great force. I'm flung from the comfort of my mattress and covers and huggable pillows, stained with mascara and tears.

"The window, really?" I complain, thinking that we could have easily just used my front door. It wasn't like anybody was home to catch me sneaking out!

She shows me how to climb her tree and I stare up at the trunk then down at my fuzzy slippers. This just isn't right. I give up - realising she is going to leave me behind - and haul my foot onto the branch.

As I throw my body through her window and land not-so-gracefully flat on her carpet, Maddison's already pulling out 6 or so t shirts from her wardrobe.

"Here, take your pick," She says.

"Do you have pants?" I ask.

"They're dresses…" she creases her eyebrows.

I widen my eyes. Those are dresses? I run my gaze over each of them, the longest one that seems most modest is an awfully bright yellow number, which was not my colour. The others, a red, blue, black, white and another black.

"For heaven's sake, wear this one, it'll hug your curves nicely," she frets while changing herself.

"Why can't you just keep them for yourself? I don't steal."

"My dear Hermione, this is not stealing. It's revenge. Besides, if they call the cops, I'll just say I never had them and you'll be back at your girls boarding school, which is God knows where - and don't tell me; if that lying-machine thing they test you with can prove I don't know, then I can keep my ass out of jail again…" she says so casually like she'd thought it through.

Where will I need these dresses at Hogwarts? Sell them to the prissy Pommie girls for them to wear at the ball?

Actually that's not so bad an idea… These brands have got to be designer for sure of they belong to Maddison's friends. She liked to surrounds herself with fellow rich people. While her parents were divorced also, her mom went and followed her dream, and became wealthy doing so. Her dad was somewhat financially stable and thought about if it was worth buying almonds at the supermarket.

I turn my back, slightly embarrassed, and strip while Maddison does her makeup in the bathroom. The dress struggled to pull over my thighs and when I settled the strap at the back of my neck with a click of the stud, I feel it hold everything in place like a shrunk glove.

Maddison struts out in her heels and looks me up and down with an approving smirk, "very nice, now let's see if that dress can sneak us in and land us free drinks as well!"