Hermione eyes opened marginally, and she groaned. Then suddenly, they flew open. Today was the day that she would be going on a cruise! A beautiful, amazing cruise to the Bahamas. She jumped up and leapt out of bed. Glancing at her alarm clock, she saw that it was only 3 o clock in the morning. The cruise didn't require her to board until 8'30. She was about to groan, but she stopped herself. This day, no, this whole TRIP was going to be amazing, and nothing could stop that. This just meant she got some extra time to get dressed and ready! After all, if she was going to have that much extra time, she might as well make herself look good. 'Not that I look bad on a normal basis' she thought to herself for a moment. 'Just extra nice.' She looked at the clothes laid out on her dresser. Black khaki short shorts, a light green halter top with small intricate black flowers and a thin black, thorned vine connecting them, black flip flops, and a beautiful chain and locket that Harry had given her last year. She smiled, satisfied, made her way into her ensuite bathroom and hopped into the shower. Deciding to use a refreshing and rather addictive citrus scented shower gel, she thought while lathering herself with the soap. She had heard about the cruise through an advertisement in the mail: an all witches and wizards cruise, no muggles permitted, and sailing towards the ever popular Bahamas. She thought that since there was only one more year for her at Hogwarts, where she didn't have to pay rent, buy her own food, or do any sort of adult thing, she might as well make use of her money while she could. Originally, she had planned to go alone, but certain events had corrupted, and now Harry would be accompanying her as well. Ron's family was in Romania, and would be for the remainder of the summer, therefore Harry was going to be stuck at the Dursley's ALL summer. When he'd written to Hermione to tell her, she'd been horrified. She couldn't let Harry be abused and neglected all summer while SHE went on a CRUISE! She'd quickly written him back that he could come with her, and she soon arranged for two tickets to be mailed too her instead of one. Sighing happily, she turned off the water, dried herself with a quick spell, and began to dress. She pulled her hair back into a tight high ponytail, leaving two locks down. It had gradually changed over the years, and now hung in curly ringlets. It was really quite beautiful, not that she would ever notice. After putting on some mascara and a bit of amber eye shadow, she looked at herself in the mirror. Deciding the results were satisfactory, she smiled and quietly crept downstairs for some breakfast.
Harry was frozen, not just in fear, but literally immobilised. He was panting hard but trying not to be heard, and his heart raced as he watched several death eaters mocking and sneering at Dumbledore. "Come on Draco, do it, NOW!" screeched Bellatrix. Harry lunged at the woman out of hatred, but, as he was unable to move, nothing happened. His eyes flew back to Draco. He was crying, and he looked absolutely terrified. But there was something else in his eyes. What precisely it was, Harry couldn't tell. Remorse, compassion, defiance and regret all seemed to have their place in those swimming pools of crystal gray. And that's when it happened. The action was so small, he doubted any of the death eaters even saw it, but he had and he was sure Dumbledore had also. Draco lowered his wand a fraction. But just as he was, Snape lunged forward. "Avada Kedavra." He said listlessly, voice void of any emotion. And then everything went black. Then, he could see Dumbledore tumbling backwards. Black. He fell out of the window. Black. He was falling. Black. Farther, farther, farther. Black. And suddenly he was at the bottom of the Astronomy tower, looking at the man who was his guide, who had eternally protected him, who knew the one true secret to the defeat of Voldemort, dead.
Harry sprung into a sitting position, grasping his bed sheets tightly between his fists, panting and sweating like he had really just been there. His head flicked back and forth across the room, catching his surroundings. His brain clicked to the fact that he was in his bed, inside his bedroom at the Dursley's, and he sighed and plopped back down onto his back. It was the beginning of July, only the fifth, and his sleep was already plagued by the nightmares that he was sure would last the rest of the summer and most likely follow him ( though hopefully less frequently ) out of school. He turned his head to look at his alarm clock. 4'00 am. He groaned to himself and stuffed his face into his pillow. 'What's wrong with me?' he thought. 'I'm waking up earlier than Hermione on the day of our O.W.L's.' Snickering quietly to himself, he allowed that thought to entre his brain. He pictured Hermione springing out of bed at 5'00, already dressed, and putting on shoes while she hopped her way over to her books for some last minute ( though at that hour, they still had plenty of time ) revision. Suddenly she was replaced by a memory of modern day Hermione, leaping at him in a bone crushing hug to say goodbye for the summer. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, smiling into her shoulder as she swung her arms around his abdomen and rubbed his back soothingly. If he was to be completely honest with himself, it had felt wonderful, holding her, and having her hold him. But it was Hermione, and she didn't think of him like that. They were friends, and nothing more. 'Unfortunately' he thought to himself wistfully, before shaking his head roughly as if to clear it from such thoughts. But then another popped into his head. Just as he was about to tell it to get out, he realised what it as saying. It showed several pictures, one of Hermione, one of a letter she had sent him, one of a cruise ship, and the other of a calendar reading the fifth of July. The fifth of July! 'Oh, Merlin!' he thought. 'Today's the day I go on that wizards cruise with Hermione!' His eyes shot to the clock once more. Only 4'15. He gave a brief sigh of relief before scooping up and putting on his glasses, flying over to his dresser, and throwing on a pair of dark muggle jeans and a short sleeved V-neck shirt with fat white and black horizontal stripes. He'd purchased them with Hermione a few months back, so they actually fit, unlike most of his inherited clothes from Dudley. He sat down on his bed to pull on socks and some black high top Converse, sent to him from Hermione. They helped him to blend right in with the muggles, and also looked rather good on him. Turning to the small mirror at the side of his bed, he half-heartedly ran his hands over his hair, just in case today was the day it would decide to lie flat. Just like every other day in the past 16 years and 11 months of his life, it wasn't. He smiled. He didn't really care anyway. Hermione had said that just because his hair refused to behave it didn't make him unattractive; in fact, it gave him a pleasant sort of wind-blown look. His smile widened. He'd started thinking more about Hermione a while back, after the duel in the Department of Mysteries, to be specific. After Dolohov had hit her with that curse, she'd just fell to the ground, alive, but looking unbelievably dead. His heart had leapt fanatically into his throat, and formed a sob that had jammed at the back of his mouth. When they'd finally made it back, Harry was filled with grief, anger, distress and many more feelings, all severely unpleasant. When she came up and put her hand on his back, he'd looked at her and realised something. Hermione was his est friend, but she wasn't just any old friend. She had ALWAYS been there for him. From the first year, it was her who saved them from the Devil's Snare and figured out Snape's potion puzzle. In the second year, she had realised that the monster in the chamber of secrets was a basilisk, and even that it had been using the pipes to get around. Third year, she'd followed him to the Shrieking Shack and went back in time with him to save Buckbeak and Sirius, whom at that point, to her, was nothing more than an innocent man whom he, Harry, had cared about, yet she had saved him. Fourth year, she'd stood by him when the entire school, Ron included, had dubbed him a selfish, attention greedy cheater. Fifth year. She came with him to the Ministry even though she knew it was a trap. She knowingly risked her life to help him, save him. And last year, well, she had been right all along about the book of course, and had helped him through several other un-pleasantries. She was the most selfless, generous, kind, forgiving, gentle person he knew, with a brave and fighting spirit, and a sword sharp mind. Not to mention she was bloody beautiful, though he knew she didn't realise it. To be honest, that was part of what made her so attractive; she didn't go around strutting like she was all that. But it was mainly her gorgeous face, lustrous hair, and, Harry admitted to himself, her rather lovely and well filled out figure. He smirked to himself as he imagined how many guys would KILL to be in his position, spending so much time with her, and when at school, being with her nearly all the time. He could practically picture every boy on little Duddykin's wrestling team absolutely drooling over her. He sighed happily to himself and turned around to face his room once more. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was only 4'30. He was to meet Hermione at the pier in London at precisely 6'00. There were temporary enchantments up so that no muggles could get onto it. Upon reaching within 400 feet of it, they would conveniently remember something they urgently had to do at home, and rush off. There were barriers up, of course, in case this failed. It was also enchanted so that all the muggles could see was an empty pier, when in fact, there would at some point be wizards crowding it, and apparating left right and center. Harry decided to double check his trunk to see that he had everything he needed, before flooing to London , as Hermione has temporarily set his living room up to the network. Once in London, he could browse around for a while and eat something in a cafe before going early to the pier and Hermione. With that thought, he smiled and got to work, unknowing that Hermione had just decided to do the same.
Hermione tore apart her kitchen cupboards, looking for something she wanted to eat. She sighed. She was craving chocolate chip muffins, more specifically, Hogwarts's chocolate chip muffins, but as she couldn't have any of those at the moment, she was hoping they would have some around the house. No such luck. She couldn't even find any mix to make any! She sighed in frustration again, louder this time, just as her mother, lad in pyjamas and a tightly wrapped fluffy bathrobe, cautiously turned the corner into the kitchen. "Hermione?" she said. "Is that you darling?" Glancing around, she saw her daughter standing amongst several boxes of cake mix, pop tarts (a muggle sort of pastry that she had become quite fond of, despite the high sugar count) and various other items. "What on earth are you doing up at..." she glanced at the clock on the oven. "4'00 in the morning?" Hermione's head whipped up to look at her mother. "Oh, mother I'm sorry." She groaned. "It's just, I was craving chocolate chip muffins, but we didn't have any, so I tried to look for some mix, but we don't seem to have that either, and, oh, I don't know, I guess I'm just nervous and excited about the trip." She said and smiled at reaching the last bit of her sentence. Her mother's yes lit up in surprise and realisation, early hour suddenly explained. "Oh yes! Todays the day of your cruise, isn't it, Pumpkin?" she dashed over to the cupboards and started rummaging through the usual hiding places where she put things she didn't want eaten straight away. Pulling back, she looked disappointed. "Oh, dear. I'm sorry, Hermione. But heres a thought, why don't you go to London early an maybe stop somewhere there? You might even bump into your boyfriend…er…your good friend Harry, as I find it unlikely that's he's still asleep either." She said, trying to cover up her slip of words, thought she found them to be quite accurate, in feeling at least. Hermione flushed bright pink. "Mother!" she said. "Harry is not my boyfriend. He's just my….friend." she finished lamely. 'Yeah, you're friend with the sexy black hair, the killer eyes you could get lost in, and that amazing smile on those incredibly beautiful, kissable lips….' Said a voice in the back of her head. 'No!'she thought sharply. 'What am I doing? That's harry you're thinking about, Hermione, and he doesn't think of you that way.' Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she looked up at her mother, who has noticed what seemed to be a war going on inside of her brain, and wore a small smile of amusement. Flushing again, Hermione turned back to the cupboards and muttered a quick spell to replace all the boxes in their rightful places before pinning around again to face her mother, who was now smirking at her uncomfortable daughter. "Right then, I think that's what I'll do…thanks mother. I'll see you when I get back then, alright?" she said , and leaned forward, giving her mother a hug and quick kiss on the cheek. Her mother smiled. "Yes yes, of course dear. Now, you have a good time, be safe, and tell Harry I send my love, all right?" she said Working hard to keep her blush down, Hermione replied "Yes, mother, bye!" and scurried out of the kitchen, purse slung over er shoulder. "Reducio" she muttered, pointing her wand at her trunk, before scooping up the now pigmy puff sized luggage and dropping it safely in her pocket. Taking one last glance around her home, she went over to her fireplace, which, like Harry's ha temporarily been connected to the Floo port closest to the pier. She grabbed a handful of the bright green powder, and said loudly and clearly "McGillicuddy's warehouse, London." Before disappearing through the long line of fireplaces.