A/N: Behold my oldest fic, written in the dark hours of sophomore year of high school… I'm working on revamping it, seeing as I reread its original form earlier and was cringing from all the OOCness and cliché ridiculousness. It's still a bit weird and different and I'm not sure how I feel about it… but whatever. We'll see how it goes. Telling me what you think is always appreciated!
Disclaimer (whoa, flashback to when we actually did these!): We all know JKR still has Harry and the rest of the characters locked up in her basement…
Responding to a light tapping sound on my bedroom door, I twisted in bed and reluctantly allowed my eyes to flutter open. As I did, they were temporarily blinded by the morning light, and my ears strained to hear what my mother was saying. Confused, I mumbled, "What was that?"
Hearing my door crack open, my mother's face revealed itself as she spoke again..
"Dear, you'll need to get up soon. Don't you remember? You and Emily made plans today…"
With that I jumped out of bed in a panic, shooting my eyes towards the clock on my nightstand. It was already 8 o'clock! I couldn't believe I had slept in so late. Thankfully, Emily classified sleep as one of her favorite pastimes, so we had decided to meet at 10 o'clock, meaning I had plenty of time to shower and eat and otherwise prepare to go out for the day. Perhaps I could even still fit in that second act of The Merchant of Venice. I could hope. After all, venturing too far from the list always put me behind, and I hated being behind.
Quickly tucking my sheet into its place between the wall and my bed (a task I always struggled with), I yanked over my comforter and threw my pillow on the floor for the moment as I mentally compiled a list of things I needed to get done before leaving the house.
Feed Crookshanks.
Take a shower.
Get dressed.
Eat breakfast.
Load the dishwasher.
Put in a load of laundry.
Stash away any wizarding items.
Read The Daily Prophet.
Read Act II.
Pick traveling book.
Clean out bag.
Pack said bag.
Make sure to bring wand.
Make sure to bring wallet.
Buy more gum.
I let out a slow breath as I plumped my pillow and again laid it at the head of my bed before scurrying to my drawers to pull out some clothes for the day. After selecting a pair of jeans and the closest shirt, I threw them and a pair of socks on my desk chair and retreated to my bathroom. Before jumping in the shower, I refilled Crookshanks' water and food dishes, mentally marking off an item from my list.
Five minutes later, I returned to my room in my bathrobe, furiously brushing my teeth as I walked. I stopped brushing and clamped my jaw down on my toothbrush to keep it stationary as I shed my robe and donned my pants and shirt. Tossing my robe over my shoulder, I started brushing again as I slid into the bathroom. Once spitting in the sink and rinsing my mouth thoroughly, I placed my robe on its hanger and bent to shake my towel through my hair. After a few seconds, I flipped my hair back over and looked at myself in the mirror. Frowning at my mess of hair and the way it dripped all over my clothes, I grabbed my brush and jumped into the battle as I strolled down the hallway, another two boxes receiving little checkmarks.
Greeting my mother good morning as I entered the kitchen, I poured myself a cup of tea using the hot water waiting on the stove just as I finished with the many knots my hair managed to store. Once peeling the gross mass of wet hairs from my brush and throwing it in the trash, I turned around to see my mother handing me a bowl full of oatmeal.
"Thanks, mum," I said with a smile as I picked up my book from the counter and took the hot bowl from her.
Sitting down at the table, I let my breakfast cool for a bit as I put on my socks. My parents had bought me striped socks once, thinking I wouldn't care anymore, but the colors still bothered me. They were so… loud. And bordering on annoying. They tell me stories about how I never liked any socks that were colored or patterned or even slightly non-white. I didn't know why I would only wear white socks, but it didn't bother me. After all, who needs colored socks? Needless to say, the striped socks still sit at the bottom of my sock drawer, practically as new as the day they were bought (after all, I only wore them once).
"What are you guys planning to do today?" Mum asked conversationally as she added some honey to her tea.
"I'm actually not sure," I said as I sipped my tea and turned the page in my book, eyes skimming over the lines even as I spoke to my mother. "Emily didn't specify. I just know I'm supposed to go to her house and that she has the entire day planned."
"Sounds nice," she replied without looking at me. A comfortable silence surrounded us as we both enjoyed our breakfast and books. Dad was still sleeping of course, since it was Saturday.
I glanced at the clock above the oven to find it already half past eight. Leaving a spoonful or two in my bowl, I emptied it onto the sink and placed it in the dishwasher along with my spoon and cup. Two more not-so-empty boxes. Picking back up my book from the table (I had only gotten through scene 3 during breakfast, so I needed to finish it up, perhaps while cleaning my bag), I went back to my room.
By the time 9:45 had rolled around, I had filled eight more mental boxes with checkmarks. After a moment's deliberation, I slid my wand into the hidden slip my mother had sewed onto my bag specifically for this purpose as a Christmas present my first year at Hogwarts, patting the outside pocket to reassure myself that my wallet was already packed. In summers past, I had never bothered to take my wand with me when I spent time with my Muggle friends, but with everything going on with Voldemort and the war, I knew I had to be prepared for anything.
As I left my bedroom, I looked back, making sure I had everything I needed and that everything was in its place before shutting the door.
"I'm heading out, Mum," I called into the kitchen. Then, a thought struck me, sending me back towards her. "Hey, Mum, do you have any gum? I'm out."
"Sure," she replied. "There should be some on the shelves next to the spices."
"Thanks."
"Have a good day, dear," she said as I gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"I will, Mum," I assured her. "I'll be home before midnight."
With one last glance backwards, a touch of my hidden wand to make sure it was there, and mentally marking off the remaining empty boxes on my list, I grabbed my jumper and headed out the door.
Emily Rancorn had been my best friend in primary school, before I knew anything about the magical wizarding world that quickly took over most of my life. She had cried when I told her that my parents were sending me to a boarding school in Scotland, but we managed to stay relatively close through an elaborate system developed by me and my parents: I would write letters home and always include a letter for Emily in the envelope. When Emily wrote me, she simply gave the letter to my parents to send along with their own. She had complained about it at first, but after five years the overly-complicated system that I claimed would save her postage had become just another peculiar reality in life.
Usually I would spend a few weeks of July with my parents before heading off to the Burrow, and Emily typically tried to pack as much time together into those weeks as possible. This year, however, would be a shorter visit than normal. Now I just had to tell her that.
As I walked through the park between our houses, I scanned the area to find some little children at the playground, some ladies playing tennis, and a couple of guys playing some one-on-one basketball. A frown found its way onto my face. Emily and I had spent so much time here. Part of me felt like I was letting my oldest friend down, especially after ditching her during Christmas holidays this past year. She understood when I told her that Ron's dad had been injured, but I still felt just a touch guilty.
With a sigh, I rolled back my shoulders, determined to be firm but kind. But as I knocked on my old friend's front door, I shuffled my feet and bit my lip.
As least we'll have today.
"Mia!" Emily cried, reaching out and pulling me into a tight hug. I groaned.
"Emily, you know I hate that old nickname," I said, rolling my eyes even as I returned her embrace. "It's good to see you."
"You too! God, I feel like we never spend time together anymore. I'm sooo glad that you're finally home from that stuffy school." Emily let go of me and I followed her into her kitchen, smiling at the sight of her younger sister seated on the table, swinging her feet as she ate her breakfast.
"Hi, Hermione!" she greeted, raising one hand as she smiled sweetly.
"Hey there, Sammie," I replied, but before I could say anything else, Emily walked away, so I shrugged at the small girl and followed my friend until we reached her bedroom.
"So what are we doing today?" I asked, sitting on her bed with a small bounce.
"What aren't we doing today is more like it," Emily said with a wiggle of her eyebrows. "First, you need to catch me up on all of your drama – don't worry, I have some to share with you, too – and then I thought we'd go out for lunch at the ice cream parlor and maybe go to the library or shopping – have you heard of that book Bridget Jones' Diary that everyone says is amazing? I'm thinking of just buying it straight off – and then we'll have an early dinner with my family because we have a party to go to!"
At first I had just smiled and listened to my bubbly friend babble on. It was by no means a new development, but I had noticed from her letters that she seemed especially excitable this past year, rambling on and on about the silliest of things. But then my mind caught up to what she said and I frowned.
"A party? Emily, you know –"
"I know, I know, you hate parties," she finished, putting her hands on mine where they rested in my lap. "But Eric is throwing it all spontaneously for some old friend cause it's his birthday and he didn't have any plans – something's weird about his home life but I don't know what – so I really want to go and I think it would be a lot of fun."
I sighed, blowing a slightly damp strand of hair out of my face.
"Please?" she sing-songed, batting her eyelashes at me like some animated pouty princess. "I reallllly want you to meet Eric."
"Is this the guy you've been crushing on?" I asked, a grin spreading across my face. Her cheeks pinked and she pulled away to play with her own long hair. I laughed. "Okay, okay. I'll consider it."
"Thank you!" she squealed and threw her arms around me again for a quick hug. She pulled back and dropped onto her side, asking me about school and Harry and Ron. And for a while, I forgot about the stupid party.
"It's so nice to see you again, Hermione," Mrs Rancorn said when we walked back in from our shopping/library trip. "Did you have a nice time out today?"
"Yeah, it was great," I said, smiling at her as I put down my small bag of borrowed and purchased books. As talkative as Emily could be, she loved books and reading and learning about as much as I did. We could pass hours discussing fictional plot lines or debating the merits of different studying habits or exchanging insight on any number of fields of study. Since starting at Hogwarts, I realized that my education in the more "Muggle" subjects would be entirely up to me to pursue, so I did. Emily kept me updated on what she would learn about in school and I constantly asked my parents to send my books on the topics so I would understand as much as I could. Though Harry and Ron surely didn't realize it, this was something I felt I needed to do.
"Dinner's just about ready, so come on into the kitchen in a minute," she said. Then, turning to face Emily, she added, "Go and get your sister, would you?"
Emily disappeared down the hall to find Samantha and I followed their mother into the kitchen.
"How long will you be staying in town this summer?" she asked conversationally while bustling around the kitchen, taking things out of the oven and off the stove with a fluid grace. I bit my lip as I thought about her question.
"Er, not very long," I admitted, playing with my fingernails. "I was actually planning on leaving in a few days to stay with some friends."
"Wait, what?"
I spun around, not expecting Emily to have heard me. My stomach dropped and I could only meet her hurt eyes for a second.
"I was… planning on going to Ron and Ginny's soon," I told her while looking at my shoes. I glanced up in time to see her shoulders fall. Then she folded her arms.
"Then you definitely have to come to that party tonight," she declared, and a laugh burst from my mouth. It was not exactly the reaction I expected.
"Okay, okay!"
After dinner, we helped Mrs. Rancorn with the dishes and retreated back to Emily's room since she insisted on changing her outfit and doing her hair.
"Fine," I relented, "But I'm going like this."
Emily just laughed as she opened her door and went to the closet. Fortunately, Emily wasn't one to spend forty minutes trying on twenty different outfits; it only took her a couple minutes to find the jeans and top she wanted and change into them.
"You don't have to change, but at least let me do something with your hair," she pleaded while plaiting her own across the back of her head. I admired the look, but my curly brown hair would never cooperate as well as her silky straight black strands.
"Good luck," I said, laughing at the prospect.
"It's really not that bad," she said, looking it over with a critical eye. "I think I could do a French twist, actually…"
"Whatever you want," I told her, throwing my hair behind my shoulders. It's not that I doubted my old friend – I just knew my own hair.
A few minutes and what certainly felt like fifty bobby pins later, she declared it done. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. All my hair was on top of my head, but it didn't look at all like it did for the Yule Ball. It was… still me.
"It's still frizzy."
"I didn't change your hair," Emily said with a roll of her eyes. "It's supposed to be frizzy. Besides, I don't know if I'd call that frizzy exactly. It just… I don't know. It's curly."
"No, it looks… nice," I said, turning to look at her. "Thanks, Em."
She smiled. "No problem. Now come on, I get to drive."
I grimaced, but followed her out the door.
"Whoa, there's a lot of people here," I mumbled, crossing my arms across my chest as we walked through the front hall. My left hand fiddled with the buckle that connected my bag to its crossbody strap, but Emily kept on walking, so I trailed after her. "Who is this party for, again?"
"I don't know him," Emily said loudly over the sound of the music pounding out of one of the rooms we passed. When the noise died down again, she continued, "Some friend of Eric's. Let's go find him. I need to introduce you."
She wound us through the house, avoiding clumps of people that spilled out of the doorways and crowded anything that could serve as a seat. Eventually we ended up in the kitchen, where three tall, dark-haired, dark-skinned boys seemed to be prepping bowls of snacks.
"Emily!" one of them greeted when he spotted us. He grinned and I knew this must be the boy she had told me about. "Glad you could make it. Who's your friend?"
"Hi, Eric," she said with a smile which only grew when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders for a quick one-sided hug, "This is Mia."
"Actually, it's Hermione," I corrected, glaring at my friend even as her eyes sparkled to match her grin. Eric only laughed. Then he introduced his two brothers, who waved in greeting at the sound of their names.
"So where's the birthday boy?" Emily asked as the five of them emerged from the kitchen, each carrying an overflowing bowl or two. Eric's two brothers disappeared into rooms off the main hall.
"Oh, do you wanna meet him?" Eric asked, a strange glint in his eyes as he looked over his shoulders, gaze darting between the two of us. "He's in the middle of a game. A meet-and-greet, if you will."
Between his tone, his eyes, and that weird expression on his face, I wasn't sure if I wanted to know what he was talking about. Emily, however, seemed oblivious. Maybe she hadn't seen his face, or the intricacies of his voice inflections were lost to her ears as they entered the main room. Not only was it crammed full of people, forcing the three of us to weave around the room to reach the long table against the wall on the other side, but the music that pounded through the house originated from the speakers to the left made it nearly impossible to hear anything at all.
"Of course!"
"Here, put those there," he shouted as he placed his two bowls of snacks on the long table and gestured to some blank spots on the far side. We did so. "Now come on! Let's have you two introduce yourselves to our guest of honor and wish him a happy birthday."
Eric led us back into the crowd, toward the tall wardrobe that looked entirely out of place in this room. The number of people gathered in a semi-circle around its door had me crossing my arms across my chest and narrowing my eyes.
"Emily, I don't thi—"
Before I could finish my sentence, Eric turned suddenly.
"Wanna go first, Hermione?" he asked, laughter swimming in his eyes. Just past him, one of the wardrobe doors opened and a tall, thin girl stepped out. Her short hair looked abnormally messy, but she was grinning widely.
"Next!" she shouted, and then I was being pushed forward. I tried to spin around and protest, but I tripped on something and fell forward. Laughter and jokes about eagerness barely registered as I uncrossed my arms to attempt to keep myself from landing face-first on the floor. I caught the side of the still-closed wardrobe with one hand, but the other hit the emptiness inside and my momentum had me following a second later. I spun slightly as I fell, wincing as my knees hit the bottom of the wardrobe and my right side slammed into the back wall.
Then the other door to the wardrobe slammed shut, blocking out all but the tiniest sliver of light.
"Well this is new," a voice drawled from somewhere in front and above me. My head jerked upwards, realizing that I recognized that voice, even if I couldn't see the face of its owner. "And rather unnecessary, I'd really rather you not—"
"Malfoy?!"