.:.:.:.
"Limpala totalus, yes, that's right..." Hermione Granger lay on her bed, idly flipping through the pages of an immense black leather book. The faded gold writing on its cover identified it as the Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five. One might find it odd to see a girl of 15 reading a book of incantations, and waving around what appeared to be a magic wand. however, the next person to enter the room did not find it odd at all.
"Hermione, dear," spoke a plump woman with bushy brown hair.
Hermione looked up. "Yes, mum?"
"It's about time we get going, love. Don't want to be late..."
Hermione shoved the book into her suitcase. "Okay, I'll be out in a minute!"
Hermione was disappointed. She had hoped to make the trip to King's Cross with her two best friends: Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. The two boys hadn't sent an owl in time though, so Hermione was making the trip with her mother.
She shrugged, and then picked up her heavy trunk, and proceeded to walk down the stairs-- thump thump thumping as the trunk hit each stair. Once she reached the bottom, she dropped the luggage... booming loudly as it hit the ground.
A tall, balding man wearing khaki pants and a cardigan approached Hermione. "Is that everything?"
Hermione turned around. "Yes, dad..." she paused. I'm going to miss you, you know."
"And I'll miss you. Look, I'm sorry I can't see you to the train..."
Hermione interrupted him, smiling. "Dad, its okay, honestly. Business is business. You do what you have to do."
"You're right, as usual..." he said mischievously, "but my daughter is my daughter... and you, missy... are my daughter."
Hermione stood on her toes, straining to kiss her father on the cheek. "I've got to be going... I promise to write-- I'll miss you!"
Her father grasped her tightly in a hug. "You had better write... and don't forget to floss!"
Hermione giggled.
A loud honking sound filled the air. Hermione turned to see her mother waving impatiently. "Okay dad," she said, "See you!" She grabbed her trunk and ran out the door.
"WAIT!" Her father called suddenly. He was holding a large, grouchy looking cat at arms length, who, by the looks of it, had not wanted to be picked up. The cat was scratching and clawing frantically at Mr. Granger.
"Crookshanks!" Hermione yelled happily, running towards her father.
"Really," he said as he handed the cat over to Hermione, "Why did you buy that thing again?"
Hermione smiled, giving her father one last kiss before joining her mother in the car.
Mrs. Granger started the ignition, then turned, saying, "Same place as always?"
Hermione quickly glanced at the ticket she held clutched in her fist. "Yup," she replied with a grin, "Platform Nine and Three Quarters."
"Limpala totalus, yes, that's right..." Hermione Granger lay on her bed, idly flipping through the pages of an immense black leather book. The faded gold writing on its cover identified it as the Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five. One might find it odd to see a girl of 15 reading a book of incantations, and waving around what appeared to be a magic wand. however, the next person to enter the room did not find it odd at all.
"Hermione, dear," spoke a plump woman with bushy brown hair.
Hermione looked up. "Yes, mum?"
"It's about time we get going, love. Don't want to be late..."
Hermione shoved the book into her suitcase. "Okay, I'll be out in a minute!"
Hermione was disappointed. She had hoped to make the trip to King's Cross with her two best friends: Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. The two boys hadn't sent an owl in time though, so Hermione was making the trip with her mother.
She shrugged, and then picked up her heavy trunk, and proceeded to walk down the stairs-- thump thump thumping as the trunk hit each stair. Once she reached the bottom, she dropped the luggage... booming loudly as it hit the ground.
A tall, balding man wearing khaki pants and a cardigan approached Hermione. "Is that everything?"
Hermione turned around. "Yes, dad..." she paused. I'm going to miss you, you know."
"And I'll miss you. Look, I'm sorry I can't see you to the train..."
Hermione interrupted him, smiling. "Dad, its okay, honestly. Business is business. You do what you have to do."
"You're right, as usual..." he said mischievously, "but my daughter is my daughter... and you, missy... are my daughter."
Hermione stood on her toes, straining to kiss her father on the cheek. "I've got to be going... I promise to write-- I'll miss you!"
Her father grasped her tightly in a hug. "You had better write... and don't forget to floss!"
Hermione giggled.
A loud honking sound filled the air. Hermione turned to see her mother waving impatiently. "Okay dad," she said, "See you!" She grabbed her trunk and ran out the door.
"WAIT!" Her father called suddenly. He was holding a large, grouchy looking cat at arms length, who, by the looks of it, had not wanted to be picked up. The cat was scratching and clawing frantically at Mr. Granger.
"Crookshanks!" Hermione yelled happily, running towards her father.
"Really," he said as he handed the cat over to Hermione, "Why did you buy that thing again?"
Hermione smiled, giving her father one last kiss before joining her mother in the car.
Mrs. Granger started the ignition, then turned, saying, "Same place as always?"
Hermione quickly glanced at the ticket she held clutched in her fist. "Yup," she replied with a grin, "Platform Nine and Three Quarters."