A/N: Please don't flame me too bad, if at all. I tried; I really tried to write a good story this time! Not like those stupid clichéd ones that I first started writing. Please give me some helpful criticism if you want to badmouth me. It doesn't seem to make an author - any - want to write more of your favorite stories (obviously I'm not talking about mine) when you tell-them-off. It's such a self-esteem dropper when you do that. Thank you. I honestly appreciate those who take/took my words to heart.

The Way I Think

Chapter 1

Scattered leaves fall on to the graves of Marie and Brian Granger, parents of Hermione Anne Granger of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The hollow coffins filled up by the bodies are then placed inside the crypt where they will await for all eternity.

You listen to everyone at the funeral procession give their condolences, but you really don't care.

They loved and cared for you deeply, but after reading so many hateful and understanding books about life's little miseries, everything has changed inside your mind; You are no longer affected by words. Or people. Only writing and reading make you think and feel.

You mourned for them for maybe the first two hours of realizing that they were gone; and you know that you'll miss them, but strangely.you can't love them like you used to. And you don't lament for that loss of emotion.

It doesn't seem worth it.

And now you have to wake-up from this revisited nightmare because someone is attempting to wake you up.

"Hermione. Hermione! Wake up! Please! This is irritating! We have to go down to breakfast and- oh! Sorry 'Mione; you wouldn't wake-up."

The sound of Rebecca's voice first thing after a three-hour sleep isn't really that bad. Just as long as she keeps her mouth closed.

"Thank you 'Becca. It's okay. Let me get dressed, all right? Just give me about ten minutes to get ready."

She nods her head, yawns, and retreats to the commonroom.

Goddess! This will forever be the humdrum of my life, won't it? Wake-up, eat, study, go to class, etcetera, etcetera. All well. I can ponder this later I guess.

"Morning 'Mione. Sleep well?" This is coming from the invincible and superb - not - Harry Potter. Again. Just like every morning.

"Hello? Hermione? A little spacey there?" Ron Weasley, extraordinary, narrow-minded jackass; poor passive-aggressive boy. He'll never learn.

"Fine, fine. Let's get out of here so we can get to class early." I sigh ever so silently. Idiotic boys. "Do you two mind not whispering about me? Thanks. Not. And stop giving me those eyes. It's incredibly noticeable that you think I'm in a bad mood this morning, which I'm not.Dorks."

Surprise, surprise. Hermione Granger the bookworm speaking her mind. Get in the real world, you losers. Goddess! If I make it out of this school alive.

A/N: Okay.I just wrote this on a whim. If you want me to continue this, then I will I guess. I honestly don't care if you hate it.

Off the record: These thoughts of Hermione - hopefully not clichéd - are a bit like how I think. Only the way she thinks, I mean. Umm.yeah, okay. I guess that's it for now. Uhh.thanks.