This is a hopefully better rework of my very first story ever, Hermione's rival. I would appreciate if you didn't read the first draft because it is awful.
I own the Americans, JKR owns everything else.
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Hermione looked over to the other end of the common room. Ever since the eight American kids had joined their house and year halfway through September, everything had changed. To Hermione, Christian, Tiffany, Toby, Brandon, Spencer, Jessica and Shira were all instantly likeable, but she couldn't say the same about the fourth girl. Michelle Sarah Montoya. Hermione hated Michelle. She was brilliant in class and had even been offered a move to fourth year. She rejected it because she didn't want to leave her friends. Aside from being brilliant in class, Michelle was a beautiful dancer, and could do modern, ballet, tap, freestyle and Highland. She was also a brilliant gymnast and often did her spectacular flips, handsprings and no handed cartwheels whenever things were boring. And she was gorgeous. Her skin was golden, her hair was dark wavy and hung down to her waist, and most girls would have killed for her figure.
On this particular night, Hermione watched as Michelle flung herself gracefully into a no handed cartwheel. Fred and George had set off their fireworks so it looked really spectacular. Hermione was really irritable. Her full timetable and her new rival kept her temple at breaking point these days.
Then she jumped as Michelle eased herself down into a chair beside Hermione.
"Hey Hermione, you coming to dance?" she asked, in her American accent.
"No
thanks, I'm not really a dancer," Hermione said. Aunt Petunia
would have loved the stiffness in her voice. Then she thought she
should be friendly. "Whereabouts in America are you from,
Michelle?"
"We're all from Minnestosa. Me and the others are
in this club thing and every summer we go camping and stuff like
that, it's great fun. And you do't have to call me Michelle, you
can call me Che. 'cause everybody else does"
She got up to dance some more. Hermione watched her and Ginny whirling around at the speed of light and marched into the girl's dormitories.
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"Well
that's Snape out of the way for a while anyway!"
"Served him
right!"
"We'll
never get another lesson as good as that one!"
This was the
babble that heralded the third years emerging from the last class on
Friday afternoon, Potions. Snape had knocked Neville's bottle of
sunflower oil, which was in the potion against his cauldron, and to
cut a long story short, ended up being carted off to Saint Mungo's
hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries until further notice. The
cheerful, decent and rather rotund Professor Slughorn was filling in.
Despite the fact that some people's cauldron's, Harry's,
Hermione's, Seamus' and Michelle's included had caught fire
(although that could easily be fixed, Tiffany had a skin rash from
the oil, and Ron's robe was slightly singed, everyone was fairly
cheerful, even Hermione, as she chatted to Shira and Jessica on the
way up the stairs. However, as Michelle came over, her mood sank like
the Titanic.
"Hey
guys, McGonagall said she wants to see us upstairs right now."
"What
on earth for?" Parvati Patil moaned.
"God only knows," Michelle replied. "Still she can't blame us for Snape getting carted off, can she? It was his fault!" Loud cheering greeted this.
McGonall
droned on about Transfiguration homework and Potions arrangements and
everybody tuned out until the words "The third years are in charge
of organising a dance at the end of October."
A slightly stunned
silence greeted this proposition. More than one person groaned. Then
Dean Thomas waved his hand in the air.
"Mr Thomas?"
"Could
Michelle do her gymnastics and breakdancing and stuff?" he said
enthusiastically.
Michelle looked up with a start. The entire year was looking at her.
"Uh, well, I don't really know," she began, but nobody was going to let her get away with this. They begged and pleaded until she finally agreed.
"Very well," McGonagall said, shuffling her papers. "You have three weeks.
Hermione
groaned and covered her eyes. How could she stop Michelle being so
perfect?
At the moment she would have welcomed any idea.
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Next Time on "Hermione's Rival Redraft':
Michelle worries she's upset Hermione:
"I
think Hermione really hates me," Michelle said, frowning slightly.
"Have I done anything to her?"
"Nah, don't think so,"
Harry said. "I'll ask her"
Dance
Preparations get underway:
"Can you zap that blue for me,
Jessica?" Ron said, as he painted a banner.
Jessica
pulled out her wand and zapped both the spot on the banner and Ron's
nose blue, causing Fred and George to laugh like idiots. "Like
that?"
And
Hermione realises how to bring down Michelle:
It was desperate.
Even for her it was desperate. But, Hermione thought, as she stirred
her cauldron, it could work..
