Never Be the Same Again
Glancing out of the window, Hermione Granger could see no further than the hedge behind her garden. A warm orange glow emanated from the streetlamp just two metre's further, indistinguishable as anything saving a floating orb. She rubbed at the sleep in her eyes and reached for her mobile phone to run her alarm on snooze. She popped a pill from a green strip and swigged at a bottle of water sitting on the windowsill before flopping back down onto the large metal framed bed.
I took a further fifteen minutes and two alarms before the rather average looking brown haired girl rolled to the opposite edge of the bed and sat up, stretching and moaning as she stubbed her toe against one of the many things littering her floor. She bent down and grabbed a pair of silver flip-flops. Her slippers. They weren't any good at keeping her feet warm, but every day she dutifully slipped her feet into them. The had been a gift after all. From Ron.
"Crookshanks," she stroked the small ball of fluff that was curled up at the foot of the bed, just within reach. "Come on. Breakfast! Get up you lazy lump."
From the tiny ball at the foot of her bed unfurled a gigantic cat, tufts sticking up at every angle, glaring at Hermione. The cat stretched and slumped back down in a similar manner to that with which Hermione had previously fell back. Meow.
Giving up, Hermione left her room and went downstairs, one had on the banister, the other on the undecorated wall to her right to guide her down in her sleepy state. A morning person Hermione was not. She pushed at the door to the living room and plucked a purple satin throw from the back of the couch in front of her. Then she continued to the kitchen and flicked the kettle on. She pulled the door to the dishwasher and grabbed a mug and a tea pot. Two tea bags and a boiled kettle later, and Hermione was moving back into the living room, wrapped up in purple with an empty mug in one hand, and a stainless steel tea pot in the opposite. She deposited the load on a stool that was presently acting as a small drinks table.
A grin started to spread across her face, and she stood, opening the blinds at the front and the back of the room.
Goosebumps spread across her pale skin, her legs and her arms. The pale, weak light made everything seem chilled, icy, even with the warm creams and browns of the living room walls.
Hermione started back towards the door to the hall and pressed the light switch, cursing her mother's boyfriend for his choice in low watt light bulbs, seemingly taking hours to light properly, as the room only seemed to grow darker.
She gave a start as the door swayed and Crookshanks paced in, a gloomy look on his face. He started to butt her legs with his head, speeding his pace up until Hermione relented and picked him up. She carried him into the kitchen and dropped him on the counter above the dishwasher, next to the sink. He mewed as she picked up his bowl and started to open a small tin of tune. His mewing continued as she emptied the tin and started to break the piece up smaller. Crookshanks was a glutton and would swallow every bit whole, so the pieces had to be small.
She placed the bowl of the mat on the floor and pushed her cat off the bench. He started to greedily swallow his food and she left him to it. Going back into the living room, she poured herself a cup of tea and gulped it down.
The house was definitely colder than usual. Probably her mother's boyfriend and his energy saving ways. They were up stairs in the mater bedroom right now. Her father was in the spare bedroom on a single cabin bed, wrapped in pink sheets, with his clothes in a pink wardrobe, his work on a pink desk.
After Hermione's father had broken from the NHS and turned private, he had found himself bringing more and more work home. Hermione didn't mind. But her mother craved the attention that she was slowly losing to the cosmetic dental surgery that her father was now performing.
Hermione curled up on the couch, wrapped still in the purple throw. She quickly drank her way through the small tea pot. She briefly considered getting more tea, but then decided against it. Three mugs of tea were enough, she didn't want to be on a caffeine high when she settled down to do her homework. She needed a clear head to concentrate. She should finish it by the end of day. If she's not interrupted.
There may not be many people in the Granger household, but interruptions were plenty. When Hermione's mother and boyfriend finally pulled themselves out of their alcohol induce slumber that was.
Hermione glanced at the red digital time on the DVD player and made her way upstairs with a sigh. To wake her father. It was time for him to go to work. To bring in the money after her mother had decided that alcohol was a more productive use of her time.
With her father leaving for work, Hermione cleaned and dressed herself. She scrubbed at her teeth with hard bristles, white foam congregating in her mouth. She rinsed her mouth. She brushed her hair. Then she slipped into the master bedroom and slipped five pounds from her mother's purse.
She jogged downstairs, grabbing her bag in the hallway and rushing on a pair of pumps from the blue wooden shoe box. She grabbed a hooded top from the banister and stepped outside.
Hermione quickly walked uphill to the off licence, buying the cheapest bottles of wine that she could, today there was a deal on. Three bottles of Lambrini for the price of two. That left her with some change. Enough either for a small quarter bottle of vodka or a packet of cigarettes. Hermione chose the latter, flashing her driving licence at the person behind the counter as she handed over the money and took the cigarettes and change, bundling them into her pocket.