A/N: This story has been weaving it's web in the farthest corner of my mind for the past year. Finally, it has gotten itself onto paper. Please, R/R, for my sake! Let me know if you have any comments!
Disclaimer: The details of this fanfict belong to the great J.K. Rowling, not me. I got some British vocab to make this fanfict a bit more authentic from some of the Geogia Nicohlson books. The story's plot comes from this teapot, nothing else.
Oh, how the day goes by when one has fun. But as one grows older, time goes by more slowly, as if it were standing still. Things don't appear to be as simple as they once were, when you were younger. The world that you once knew only consisted of your backyard. Over the years, the two separate worlds of the universe reveal themselves to each other. Wishes seem to be a waste of time to the stubborn. The imagination is blinded by reason. Because of all of these symdromes, you can never quite see what you have right in front of you.
The Grangers are a small, simple family. They live in a very sensible neighborhood. Each house bears a white picket fence, and colorful flower boxes. The Grangers' neighbors love the adorable, young daughter that lives with her parents in a white colonial house, over on second street. She is dependable to collect your mail while you're on vacation, or babysitting while you take that much needed break. These people have known Hermione since the day that she was brought home from the hospital. If you ask Mr. Down-the-street, he would say that he knows every bit of her life and support it with one-hundred percent confidence. But, these ordinary people have no idea of how extraordinary her life truly is...
I sat at the foot of my bed with my feet on top of my worn trunk and stared at her bland bedroom walls...
"Hermione, unless you want to cast spells on your nuddy pants!" Mum called from the breakfast bar in the kitchen downstairs.
I rolled my eyes as a small smile crept across my face. Mum was so down to Earth, that sometimes Dad would question who's the true mother- Hermione, or his wife? My father works for the family law firm, as usual on typical Saturdays.
"Hermione honey, we know that you're beautiful already, now hurry up or we won't be able to stop at Boots. You and I both know how I am in desperate need for concealer." I leaped off of my quilt and ran down the stairs, but not before stopping to slide down the banister.
Mum fell into a fit of laughter as she picked her purse from the hall tree. Mum and I drove to the mall to get clothing to 'Cover my knickers.' I'm a bookworm, not a shopaholic. But according to this interesting magazine that I read while Mum was in one of the changing rooms, 'Clothing affects your self esteem.' After taking one of those riddiculos quizzes, I have been advised to wear a leopard print bra to 'Boost my self confidence.' Thank God that Hogwarts doesn't have P.E, the underwear thing would have been hard to explain. As a reward for my patience for selecting my wardrobe, I have been given a full-trip to Barnes & Nobles, all expenses paid.
During the drive home, mum was singing along to some old 80's song on the radio. Thankfully, my parents own a sedan with tint reflective windows. By the time that we arrived home, even Dad was home. Mr. Granger has a well defined face with a large forehead. All facial descriptions point to-a scholar. Each and every law book ever written my father has read.
"My two most beautiful ladies. I'm hoping that my credit is still valid?" Dad asked, as he leaned over the open newspaper while cleaning his glasses.
My mother simply smiled and showed him her large shopping bags, all 23 of them.
"Dad, you know Mum, she can't go into a store and just buy one thing, she HAS to buy the entire line." I said as I flopped my self down on one of the kitchen table chairs. My eyes turned to the clock on the microwave. 11:37 pm. I looked at my parents as they started speaking to one another, without one single word. I interrupted the starring competition with a small cough.
"Um, I'm going to need to go to Diagon Alley soon to pick up my school supplies. Can I get a ride from one of you two?" My parents looked at me as if they were shell shocked.
"I..I....can't believe that we forgot! Liz, you were supposed to take her in a day or two, right?" My father asked, putting his hand to aid his weary mind. Mum sat down me and started to explain.
"Honey, remember when I presented my sketches to the fashion company in America?" Mum asked me without looking at my father, while bobbing her head without any control. Poor crazy woman, she's gonna have a hell of a crick in her neck tomorrow morning.
"Mum, that's...it's fantastic! Why didn't you tell me?" I asked with true curiousity.
"This is a big job honey....a REAL big job...I'll need to be there full time." Mum said, her eyes staring at the grains in the wood of the table top. My father was so silent that I could barely hear him breathe.
"Now Elizabeth," he said, with anger filling every word, "we know the reason why you have to abandon this family." My father slurred, his hands serving as a mask to cover his face.
I had no idea what they were talking about. I walked up the stairs, closed my door and leaned against it. The whispered voices of my parents didn't remain calm, or hushed either. I never did see my mum again after the next morning. Dad said that she was with another man, some model of hers for her clothing line. Dad never did seem that much socially outgoing since that night. The following morning, there was a loud knock on the front door. A large, burly man stood on the doorstep, in a public storage uniform.
"Ohhh, I'm so sorry, all of the boxes are in the shed like we agreed." My mum kept on rambling on and on as she hurried down the stairs while putting on large bohemian earrings. She stopped mid step when she saw me standing beside the uniformed man.
I turned away to let my mother pass through the door way. Dad took me to London when he went to the bank "sort things out." Whatever that means. When I walked through the heavy wooden doors of the well-known tavern, the thick scent of butterbeer calmed my nerves. The old gnarled witches and wizards barely took any notice of me. When I found my way to the back of the bar, I used my wand to open the old, brick wall. I took out my supply list that I receiver visa owl mail. My last stop was at the store Flourish & Blotts. The entire shop was practically empty of customers, save for the librarian.
I walked through the countless aisles of books. They served as my only source of comfort, when everyone else was off playing Quidditch. Besides, my two best friends are no where to be seen. Those blokes must be missing part of their brains. A very crucial, important part of the brain. A bell rang from the front of the shop, but it didn't serve any purpose for me. That is until I turned around and found the eyes of a young lad. A young lad that I absolutely hate....did I forget despise as well? But he didn't notice me at all. He was too busy with a particular red head , he was lucky enough to breathe in between his snog. God, I practically ran out of the store and returned quickly to the Leaky Cauldron, before I got sick.
How cursed am I exactly?