Draco Malfoy was pure evil and that, Hermione Granger knew for a fact.
Hermione was trying to remember why she was thinking about that git. It probably had something to do with his father, Lucius Malfoy being in the Daily Prophet. Lucius was accused of being in league with the Dark Lord and was put on trial. However, suspiciously, the Ministry of Magic dropped all charges. Obviously, Fudge was bribed with a fat wad of cash. The nasty old man never missed a chance for personal gain.
Hermione was writing in her journal when she heard a pecking at her window. She put her journal down and when to open the window. She had to squint to see the small, white, snowy owl, because the sun was shining directly in her eyes. She untied the letter from the creature's leg. She recognized the crest on the envelope to be from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The school she had attended for six years. Hermione assumed the letter would be not unlike the one she received every year from Hogwarts, except in that this time it would congratulate her on becoming Head Girl. Only this letter was different.
Dear Miss Granger,
We regret to inform you Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry has been closed until further notice. Your seventh year has been postponed, but we advise you to keep up with your studies at home. We will contact you if the situation so changes. Thank you in advance for your co-operation.
And Hermione I will advise you not investigate this further for your own safety.
Deputy Head Mistress
Minerva McGonagall.
"I can't belie…" Just then a small, brown, minute owl interrupted Hermione. It was Ron's owl Pigwidgeon. Hermione removed the letter from its leg and began to read.
It was as if Ron had read her mind.
Hey,
Can you believe this? Closing Hogwarts. I thought everything was fine. Do you think You-Know-Who has something to do with this? Anyway I have to go. I'm going to owl Harry. I wonder how he is.
Ron.
Dear, Ron,
It's probably nothing; Peeves or Moaning Myrtle must have flooded the school again or something. And just because we're not at school doesn't mean you can slack in your studies, either. Don't worry I'm sure Harry will be fine.
Hermione.
But Hermione wasn't so sure herself.
"Oh dear, that just won't do, will it?" Mrs. Granger shook her head. "Do you think it has something to do with that nasty Voldi man?"
"I don't think so, mum." Hermione lied. What else could it be?
"Well, closed or not, your learning something. You can't very well do nothing all year." Mr. Granger boomed.
"Well, of course not George, but it's to late to enroll her in a normal public school." Hermione couldn't get a word in edgewise.
"It's settled then. The girls being home schooled!"
"But…" Hermione tried to speak but her parents ignored her.
Hermione had spent the last two weeks learning trigonometry and muggle literature. Her parents thought she should have more of an understanding of the world around her, even though she reminded them that she had spent the first eleven years of her life here and still came home every summer.
Currently, Hermione was reading E.A. Poe. She quite liked his writing. On her spare time she would read his stories. She especially liked Murders in the Rue Morgue. How ingenious! Her mother was making her read them and Hermione tried not to let on she enjoyed them. Although she didn't mind the reading, she was bored with math. Since when would she need to know what a parabola was. She wished someone could come save her from this dreadful fate. Someone like her Aunt Glenda…
Just then Hermione heard a loud bang and a screech. She turned around and looked out the window to see was the racket was and saw a large, purple, double-decker, bus sputter to a stop in front of the house. She looked over to her parents in the living room who were totally oblivious to all the noise, then looked out the window again. The bus was gone but there, instead in front of the house stood a woman of about thirty-five. She was petite like Hermione and had the same bushy, brown, curls and maple syrup eyes. She wore purple cloaks, which were
left open to reveal a stylish blue camisole and a pair of
worn jeans. This was definitely her Aunt Glenda. No other witch she knew had as much style or class.
Hermione ran to the door and swung it open just as her aunt was about to ring the doorbell.
"Aunt Glenda!" Hermione wrapped her arms around her aunt and squeezed her tightly. "Oh, how glad I am to see you, but what are you doing here?"
" I've come to rescue you from your dreadful fate, of course." Glenda whispered and Hermione.
"But, how-"
" Shh…" Glenda raised a slender finger to her lips. Hermione's parents had just entered the hallway.
"Why, Glenda. I had no idea you'd be here so soon. I thought you weren't coming until next week." Hermione's mother spoke.
"Well, they ended the book tour early. Those damn Death Eaters again."
"Who?" Hermione's father inquired.
"Anyway, I got back early." Glenda changed the subject before her brother-in-law could interrogate further.
"So why are you here, then, Auntie Glen? Hermione asked.
"How would you like to come say with me in France for a little while?"
"Really? You mean at the Chateau? I- I wouldn't want to impose or anything."
"My dear little Twinkle Toes. Of course you wouldn't be imposing. I've lots of room. Besides, it does get rather lonely up there."
Hermione's face lit up. "Did you all know about this?" She turned to look at her parents.
"Well, we knew how unhappy you are moping 'bout the house like you've been doin' lately. And your Auntie 'ere thought it'd be nice if you went 'round for a visit, for a while. A few months in fact, just as sor' of a holiday and to keep your Auntie company." Hermione's father replied.
"How come no one told me about it?" Hermione was still in a state of shock. France, France. Wow!
"We wanted to surprise you, Darling." Her mother answered.
"Now, tut, tut, up stairs and pack your things. We have just enough time for tea, then we're off." Glenda nudged her.
Hermione ran upstairs to collect her things. For the first time her trunk wouldn't be filled with books. Her aunt had a book collection to rival that of Hogwarts'.
Her aunt was one of the most intriguing women she had ever met. She was a writer and a pacifist. She also completely supported S.P.E.W., Hermione's organization. She even started paying her house elves and gave them holidays.
After Hermione found everything she needed and neatly put it in an organized fashion into her trunk, she ventured down stairs lugging the large, brown leather case with her.
"Quickly, Dear, tea's beginning to cool." Her mother called
Hemione dropped the trunk at the bottom of the stairs in a huff. "Coming." She called. She smoothed her blouse and tucked her hair behind her ear and walked into the living room.
Hermione collapsed into a big armchair near the fireplace just as her mother set her tea in front of her.
"Really, Hermione's been wanting to go to France again for the longest time." Her mother commented.
Hermione was overwhelmed. Her first adventure without Ron or Harry or her parents either. This would
be an experience of a lifetime, Hermione thought.