A Girl Named Hermione Granger: Year Four
Chapter One: So Begins The Summer I was Fourteen
Dedicated to someone very special;
a loved one of my loved one;
who doesn't actually know I write fanfiction,
and will never read the stories,
but she's in my thoughts.
And I feel a little better,
just by writing this little bit.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters (excepting Julie, and any others that are not from the actual series,) but I'd like to think I own the brain fart that led me to decide I should re-write the whole series from a twisted perspective and make the actual characters behave oddly. That is, I own my brain fart.
Hermione Granger was not much for plotting, as anyone who knew the feisty bushy haired girl would tell you. She was, however a planner. And at this very moment, the fourteen year old brunette was planning something very important. She was seated in a small fast food restaurant with her elder sister, Julie Granger, poking her greasy hamburger with slight distain.
At school she would eat just about anything, though she did tend to gravitate towards slightly more vegetarian meals, but this food was not up to the quality of the food served at her school. A fact, which in itself, ought to alert you that she is not normal; nor does she attend a normal school. No, Hermione Jean Kathrine Granger was a witch, and she attended the renowned and acclaimed school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogwarts.
And as of this moment, as she toyed with her food across her sister, she was remembering her train ride back to London that very afternoon. Planning how to approach her wizard father, and secure her summer freedom. You see, she had been grounded; grounded for helping a convict escape on the back of a dangerous magical beast, grounded for jinxing her own father, and most importantly; grounded for letting someone in on a secret.
She was not worried, however, that she would remain in such a state. For she had learned, from her oldest wizard friend, that her own father had played part in spilling this secret as well.
Julie, a thirty-one year-old witch with straight brown hair and lively green eyes, watched her younger 'sister' from across the table and smiled. "Enjoy your freedom, tonight you go into lock down." She had, in the past, sympathized with Hermione whenever her father tried to punish her; but this time she was on his side.
Hermione cracked her neck before leaning back in her seat comfortably, "No, I don't think so." She said confidently, earning a look of pure confusion from her elder sister. "I was, but that will change." She refused to say anything more, as they finished their meal and began the long drive to Spinner's End, where she resided with her father.
Hermione kept her face schooled as they parked in front of his house, which was visible only to those privy of its existence, and did not even flinch as her father stepped out to great them, and Julie placed a kiss on his cheek. It did not bother her, to see her sister kiss her father, for Julie was not actually her sister.
Hermione toted her school trunk into the three story tall house, remaining silent as she returned to the car once more to fetch the cage of her pet owl Archie, whom had his head tucked under his wing, and the basket containing her large ginger half kneazle cat, Crookshanks.
The very moment she had settled her pets into her room, and thrown open the window to relieve the stuffy air, she bounded down the stairs two at a time and entered the kitchen casually, hoping her father would not notice the slight flush of excitement on her cheeks. She needed to be calm and collected, if she were to best him.
"Father," she tried to flatten her voice, though it betrayed her with a breathy quality, "I wish to be ungrounded." It often helped, when dealing with Severus Snape, to phrase a demand in the form of a request; or at least, it was something she had learned from him since her eleventh birthday three years ago. He did it all the time.
Severus looked up from the newspaper he was perusing, and raised a dark eyebrow at her demanded request. His dark eyes locked onto hers; something he would never be used to, as it was the only definitive trait she had inherited from himself. "And, pray tell, why should you be let off without punishment?" He questioned, faintly amused by her antics. He had been expecting her to approach him about this, though he had thought it would take her at least a week.
Hermione cleared her throat, "I had the loveliest – most interesting – conversation on the train just this afternoon." She casually prowled over to the counter at which her father was standing, "With Draco – and Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle." She paused at the end of her list of names, and saw her father shift almost imperceptibly.
He applauded her cunning, he really did. She was coming across more Slytherin every day. "Is that so? What about?" He turned his gaze back to the paper in his hands, pretending to be thoroughly interested in a photo of the Minister for Magic giving a speech.
"About how four of them over heard a careless conversation, between two others in the halls of the dungeons." She couldn't fight down the smirk that tugged at her lips. Summer freedom was so close she could almost taste it.
Severus bit the inside of his lip to keep from cursing in front of his only child. She had him, and she knew it. Her grounding had been entirely the product of her allowing their secret to become known to someone, without having actually said anything herself. Whereas he, the responsible adult, had carelessly engaged his godson in a conversation in the middle of an insecure location, and inadvertently informed four students whom were poised to do more damage than they could guess.
He could argue, state that as the parent, he was perfectly able to inform whomever he should so please, however that would never bode well. His daughter was as stubborn as he was, and twice as difficult as her mother had ever been. "Curfew is ten." He stated calmly, flipping the page of his paper as she dashed out of the room in an exuberant manner. He briefly allowed himself to wonder what was going to happen this year, but he brushed the thought aside quickly. With a fourteen year old daughter, and a thirteen going on fourteen year old godson, whom would be staying for nearly a month, he didn't want to think of the possibilities.
Hermione reclined on her bed, enjoying the summer heat that seeped through the house, as she flipped through a copy of the Daily Prophet. She had obtained her freedom from her grounding two days ago now, and hadn't left the house since. There wasn't much she could do in this little town; with fear looming over her like a dark cloud. She was going to have to put on a brave face and go somewhere though; being in stasis was driving her mad. She hadn't had a single day of doing nothing since the summer before.
She rolled off her comfy bed and rose to her full height, which wasn't very impressive, but she liked to think she was growing, and walked over to her dresser. It was rather lacking, and most of the clothes she did own were hand-me-downs from Sarah, and therefore a little more revealing than she would like.
She pulled a pair of shorts and a tank top from the top drawer, and quickly changed out of her pajamas. She picked up her purse and a hair tie and threw her wildly bushy hair into a pony tail as she headed down the stairs. She looked around the main floor for her father, and found him in his study, pouring his attention over a bubbling cauldron.
"I'm going out." She stated factually, gaining his attention. As he looked up, briefly, from his cauldron to acknowledge her, he did a double take and nearly dropped the vial in his hand. "Not like that, you're not." He said quickly, placing the vial into a wooden rack before he could spill any of the undoubtedly expensive ingredients inside.
Hermione looked down at her clothes with a slight frown. It's true that this is not what she would have preferred, as the shorts only reached halfway to her knees, and the tank top was held up by only two small strips of elastic. But it was, by far, the most conservative outfit she had at the moment. "It's either this or my school uniform." She said calmly, almost wishing she could wear her uniform.
Severus was torn, he had granted his daughter the right to leave the house if she wished, and he had just assumed she had more clothes. He begrudgingly admitted to himself that she had grown nearly three inches since last summer, because of her adventures with time and aging herself needlessly via the time-turner. He would need to have Julie take her clothes shopping.
"Surely you must have something," he fished, wishing mildly that this was her idea of a practical joke. He certainly would not let her run around so under dressed when Draco was staying.
She laughed at his insistence, "Believe me, if you don't like this, you will wish to burn everything else Sarah has given me." Her laughter only increased as the colour drained from his face at the implication.
Severus really wasn't sure how to react to that thought. He could not have her going outside in her school uniform, and he couldn't have her going out like that. The attention she got from Draco was bad enough; he didn't want to deal with any muggle boys chasing after her.
Hermione watched the expressions on her father's face change rapidly with his thoughts and she fought back more laughter. "I'd like to go to the shopping center and buy some new clothes."
Severus shook his head, "That will have to wait until Julie's here to take you out. I'm sure I have a more…appropriate…shirt you may wear. Wait here." He flicked his wand absent mindedly at the ladle resting in the cauldron, and it began stirring the potion, three turns clockwise, two anti-clockwise, repeating every three seconds, as he slipped past her and headed upstairs.
He returned with a deep green shirt that was old and splotched with tiny scorch marks; no doubt from a potion that had bubbled over. It had a faded football in the bottom right corner, and it was much too large for her. However, she accepted it from him as he stepped back into his office. "I'm afraid that's all I've got that will fit you –" Hermione looked at him with a quirked eyebrow, "Fit me? Dad, it's big enough to be a dress," She held it in front of herself to prove her point, and the hem fell half way to her knees, covering her shorts completely. "Just tuck it in. I need to get back to this now Hermione." His attention was once more focused on the cauldron on his desk, and she was dismissed.
She pulled the shirt on with a sigh and tucked it into her shorts on one side, before heading out the front door. She felt, if possible, more ridiculous in the oversized shirt. It wasn't particularly bad, overall, and if it hadn't been so large she would have rather liked it, but she felt like one of the poor children who had nothing but hand-me-downs.
She reached into her purse and pulled out the small mp3 player she had received for Christmas two years before, putting in her ear buds. Once the music was playing, she stuffed her hands in her pockets and set out, walking down the street, looking for something to entertain her.
By the time she had reached the middle of town, she had decided to treat herself to some ice cream, only to remember she had not had time to change over any of her galleons into muggle money. She cursed to herself as she made her way to the park; it was the only place she could think of that was actually free.
When she walked in through the opening in the fence, she discovered a row of tables set up under large umbrella's, surrounded by adults and children alike. She debated momentarily, going over to see what was going on, and decided that it certainly couldn't hurt.
As she got closer she pulled out an ear bud so she could listen to the voices, and she finally understood what was going on. It was a summer sports league. She walked up to one of the adults, a volunteer wearing a bright orange tee shirt, "Hello, is this open to everyone?" She asked hopefully. This could be just the thing to fill her time this summer.
The volunteer smiled down at her and nodded, "Yes, it's open for everyone. You just have to bring back a form filled out by your parents." He handed her a form, and she looked it over. "Where do I bring it when it's filled out?" A summer football league sounded rather amusing.
"Just back to the park here, we'll be out for the next week collecting forms. You'll have to supply your own equipment. There's a list of what you'll need on the back." Hermione nodded once and stepped back a bit as she noticed the looks she was getting from everyone close enough to have heard her.
The kids that were the age she ought to have been were whispering amongst themselves, and she caught snippets of what they were saying. "…that's that girl who said she lived in that run down wreck of a house, isn't it?" "…totally is, look at her ratty clothes! I bet she doesn't even have parents." "And I doubt she'll be able to afford the equipment too."
She clenched her fists, crushing the form she was holding, and clenched her jaw to keep from reacting to the whispers; but her control was lost as she heard a girl with golden blonde hair, and a very pure-blood type attitude, say out loud, "You don't look like you'd be very good. I certainly don't want you on my team."
Hermione spun to face the other teenagers and growled, "I do not live in a run-down wreck of a house; I most certainly DO have parents, and I wouldn't want to be on the same team as a twig like you!" She walked away feeling rather proud of herself, knowing that they were gaping after her. She was not the same, meek, little girl she had been two summers before, and she would make sure it was known.
"Absolutely not." Severus didn't look up from his dinner as his daughter held a permission form towards him. It was out of the question, to allow a young witch or wizard to play sports with muggles; it put the muggle children at a great disadvantage, at least, that was his excuse.
Hermione dropped the form in the middle of the table, and threw down her fork. "Why not? It's just a summer league, it's not like they'll expect me to join the regular season." She had only been mildly interested until now. Having her father refuse flat out was rare, and she found it only made her more desirous of what he was refusing. This, she supposed, could be attributed to the fact that she was now a teenager.
His eyes flickered up from his plate momentarily, but they did not linger on the paper, "You would have an unfair advantage over the other children. And what would Draco do when he comes to stay?" He almost smirked at the indignant sigh his daughter gave.
"He can do his own thing; we're not joined at the hips!" She picked her fork up moodily, and jabbed at the steak and kidney pie on her plate. "I should hope not," Severus replied after a moment of internal debate, and her face became instantly red at the implication of such things.
She shot out of her seat, spluttering and unable to come up with a retort, and she left the room in a rush. He watched her go, his smug feeling fading as he realized exactly what he had implied. His eyes dropped to the innocent piece of paper resting on the table and he sighed. Perhaps it would be a good thing for her to have a diversion while Draco was around; lest they do end up attached at the hips. He was definitely not ready to deal with that just yet.
He picked up the paper and looked it over. It was going to require some fibbing; as he could not obviously give his own address, nor should he place his own name as her guardian. He stood from the table and made his way to his office; he would have Julie fill it out. It was not unreasonable.
He scratched out a quick, to-the-point note and tied it to the leg of his owl, sending it on its way.
Hermione lay face down on her bed, scowling into her pillow, with her mp3 player plugged into her ears staring out the window into the night. She was beginning to feel the effects of hunger, but she was unwilling to go down and see if her father was still awake; she was still quite embarrassed by what had transpired over dinner.
It took her several minutes to realize that the random bird she had settled to watching was heading directly towards her house; and bore a striking resemblance to the owl of one of her best friends. As it continued to get closer and closer, she realized it was Hedwig, and she sat up to open her window wide enough for the snowy owl.
"Hedwig! Is that from Harry?" She asked, perfectly aware of the redundancy of the question, tugging out her head phones as the bird settled on her outstretched arm. There was a short note tied around one of her legs, which she held out to allow it to be removed.
Hermione stood gently from her bed and crossed over to Archie's cage, which was currently empty, and she opened the door to it, "Here, you can rest up a bit; Archie is out at the moment. But he won't mind I'm sure." Hedwig gave a grateful hoot and hopped into the cage, helping herself to both food and water.
Hermione unrolled the letter and laughed as she reached the end of it. Poor Harry was being subjected to his cousin's forced diet, and was pleading for food. "I'll have to check if I have anything, I may have to make an order." She said softly, speaking to Hedwig, as she began digging around in her partially unpacked trunk. It however, was, woefully empty of sweets and snacks. "Nothing." She grumbled, more for the benefit of the snowy owl than herself.
She had no idea how she was going to place an order for sweets, now that she thought about it; it was easy to do at school, as Honey Dukes was close by. But from her home, it was quite a bit harder to manage. She didn't live close to Diagon Alley or, to her knowledge, any wizarding shops, and she currently had no muggle money.
"I'll have to go get some, Hedwig, I'll give you a letter for Harry, and I'll get Archie to deliver the snacks." She narrated as she set about digging out a quill and a fresh piece of parchment.
Harry,
I haven't anything to send at the moment, but I'm sure Mrs. Weasley will be sending you a feast, so I suppose you can wait a few days for my package. I think you should know I rather agree with yours and Ron's opinion of my father. I asked to play summer football and he flat out refused; I bet he'd have said yes if I asked to join a summer Quidditch league.
I was originally going to ask if you and Ron might come here for a visit (don't roll your eyes at me Harry, you wouldn't have to spend time with my father,) but now I can't. Apparently Draco's going to be over for a full month. And I don't really want my house to be a war zone. Besides, I'll be seeing you in August anyway.
Hermione.
She rolled up the letter once the ink was dry and turned to face the snowy owl once more. "Here we go, whenever you're ready to go, I've got the letter. I'll try and have the package sent to him by the end of the week, ok?" Hedwig blinked up at her, with her giant amber coloured eyes and hooted softly, and held out her leg so that Hermione could attach the letter.
End of chapter one!
Okay; I know it's been a little while since Year Three was finished, and you'll have to bear with me posting a little slower than usual for the first little while; but I have a nice long summer sequence to start Year Four.
And, finally, the Dramione moment I've kept you waiting for. I had toyed with the idea of Draco being in the 'friend zone' for Year Four, but I crammed so much of my own ideas into the summer, that I felt I should be a good, nice author and give the people what they want instead. And before you ask; Hermione will still be attending the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum. You will just have to wait and see why she is his most important person.
There is so much coming at you to open this story, that by the time they get on the Hogwarts express, you'll forget they still have to go through school.
Speaking of which: I'm only finished writing up until Hermione receives her invite for the Quidditch World Cup, and I originally told you all I wouldn't start posting til I had her at the school. But summer is already just under forty pages, so I think I'm in the green anyway. Oh, not to break any hard core Quidditch hearts, but my description of the game is likely to be very limited, just because I'm going to be including other aspects of the Fourth Book which were left out by the Movies.
Now, it's time to go to bed and reward my tired, achy brain with some sleep.
