Bored. Hermione Granger was bored. Not a good combination in the best of times, but mix one of Hogwarts brightest witches, one unassuming computer, and one of the hottest days of summer, and it was a recipe for disaster.

"Aaaarrrggghhh!!" Hermione screamed. While not a person typically prone to unnecessary outbursts, there were certainly certain situations which called for screaming out.

And this was one of them.

It was only 11:37 in the morning, and she had already exhausted all her usual entertainments.

Summer assignments- check.

Required reading- check.

Recommended, but not necessarily required, reading- double and triple check.

Even the glittering letters of "Hogwarts: A History," a book which usually enthralled her for hours, was unable to hold her attention.

In short, she had nothing to do, and while she wasn't quite sure if the books were the ones to blame, she could help the feeling of a slight sense of betrayal. It left a decidedly bad taste in her mouth.

She sighed, her forehead coming into contact with her desk.

She really should find a productive way to spend her summer holiday. With at least three more weeks until September 1, she had a lot of time on her hands.

With renewed vigor, Hermione decided she would spend the next few hours or so counting the carpet fibres under her chair—an immensely important task indeed.

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5…" As each resigned whisper condensed in the thick air, she couldn't help but feel as though it added to its oppressive weight.

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"425…426…42…7…4…"

At the sharp knock at her door Hermione jolted upright, the number 428 dieing on her lips.

"M-m-mom." She stuttered. "What brings you up here?"

Anne Granger smiled down at her daughter. "I was just making some lunch, dear, and I thought you might like some." She walked over to set some sandwiches on her desk.

"What were you doing when I walked in, sweetie?"

Hermione fought down a blush. Had she really just been caught counting carpet fiber by her mom? Apparently she had.

"Oh, you know… no-nothing, nothing in particular." She ducked trying to hide her embarrassment.

Her mom gave her a knowing smile. "Right. I see. Well, why don't you find a "little nothing" that's something more productive?"

"Oh mom," Hermione huffed, "you don't know how hard that is! I already finished my assignments, and my textbooks—and a little reading on the side!" Hermione waved her arms in a broad sweep at the books and school equipment that littered her bedspread.

Mrs. Granger nodded solemnly at her daughter's outburst, her face bursting into a wide grin. She started to laugh aloud, and Hermione joined in soon after.

"Oh Hermione," her words were interspersed with laughter, "surely you could find something more engaging that carpet counting?" She mused her daughter's wild mane with a practiced ease.

Hermione giggled brightly and squirmed out from under her mother's hand. "Mo-om! But of-course I could. I want to do more reading. It's just I've run out of things to read!"

"Hermione dear, how could you run out of things to read? How could anyone run out of things to read?"

Her mother's words brought hope to the young girl's heart.

"Does that mean you are going to get me more books? Or take me to the library?" Her plaintive tones sounded more like a whine. She was sure she hadn't used that tone of voice since she had been five.

But, she wasn't above begging for books.

Begging for books with a trembling lip.

And her mother laughed. "Oh sweetheart, you're well past the age for puppy-dog eyes and Mr. Big-Lip. I thought I'd raised you into a mature seventeen year old." She teased gently, wiggling a stern pointer finger under her daughter's nose.

"Seriously, you would think that with all the learning materials your father and I bought for you, you'd think the girl would learn to appreciate a computer. Seriously dear, why do you think we have it? It certainly wasn't to encourage your father's Mahjongg addiction."

Hermione sent a sheepish glance towards the computer sitting alone on the top of her desk, grinning at her own silliness. "Now, why didn't I think of that?"

Her mom laughed back. "I don't know dear. That will just have to be one of those questions for the ages." She patted her legs as she stood. "Now, my dear that you have rediscovered the world of research, I will take my leave of you." She bowed with mock seriousness, heading for the door.

Hermione smiled at the retreating form. Her mom had single-handedly relieved her growing boredom and provided her with a heretofore entirely untapped research source.

Yep, no doubt about it, she loved her mother.

So it was with a considerable lighter heart, and more focused mind, that Hermione bent to her computer. For the next few hours, only the soft sound of a sigh and the gentle whirring of a computer broke the stillness.

In fact, it wasn't until that evening that Hermione uttered another word.

At 3:34 exactly, she screamed.

She had discovered Noxwarts: A Secret History, a webpage devoted to stories of romance and intrigue within the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

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