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Chapter 12: The Early Bird Doesn't Get The Worm
Hermione awoke with a groan to a repetitive (and incredibly annoying) rapping on her bedroom door.
Grumbling, she rubbed her eyes and stared blearily at the clock on her bedside table. She let out another groan as she noted the time: 6:37.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and curled herself into a ball, grimacing as the knocking returned to the door, more persistent than before.
"Hermione, dear, breakfast is ready! Time to get up!" she heard Mrs. Weasley call from outside the door.
Hermione reluctantly unfurled herself and pressed her face into her pillow, a muffled growl escaping her.
"I'm coming, Mrs. Weasley!" she called back, her voice dampened by 6 inches of down feathers. It also dampened the agitation in her tone to a semblance of politeness. "I'll be down in a bit!"
"Well hurry up, dear! If you're not down in a few moments the boys will have eaten everything!"
Hermione listened in relief as she heard the sound of Mrs. Weasley's retreating footsteps, and proceeded to un-smother herself when Mrs. Weasley was out of earshot.
"Here we go again," she sighed to herself.
She then swung her legs over the side of the bed, shivering at the rush of cold air, and made her way to Ginny's small private bathroom, one of the few privileges of being the only girl in a family of boys. Just as Hermione placed her hand on the doorknob, the door to Ginny's actual bedroom swung open, revealing the occupant herself, in all her energetic glory.
"Speak of the devil," Hermione mumbled to herself, before turning slowly to see the younger, fiery-haired girl bounding towards her like a caffeinated golden retriever.
"Good morning!" Ginny said in a singsong voice, her radiant smile flashing from ear to ear. "And how are we this morning?"
"Good morning, Ginny," Hermione said, managing a small smile. "Just delightful, thanks."
Ginny nodded appreciatively, and then noticed Hermione's obvious intent to enter her bathroom. "And where do you think you're going?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows, gesturing toward the bathroom. "I was just going to get cleaned up and—"
"No time for that!" Ginny exclaimed, grabbing Hermione's wrist in a vice-like grip and dragging her towards the door with surprising strength.
"Obviously, you had time for that," Hermione said irritably, observing Ginny's immaculate makeup and perfectly groomed hair.
"That's because I've been up for over an hour," Ginny said cheerfully. "Now stop wasting my time and come on!"
Ginny continued to drag her down the stairs and thrust her unceremoniously into the crowded kitchen. Hermione stumbled slightly as she fell through the door, freezing suddenly with bated breath. She ventured a glance around the room, and was immensely relieved to see that no one had taken any notice of her graceless entrance. A sigh of relief escaped her. Now all she had to do was quietly make her way to the seat across from Ron, and—
"We have arrived!" Ginny sang out as she burst loudly through the door behind Hermione, which drew everyone's notice to the pair.
Hermione blushed slightly, and quickly made her way over to her seat. Ron grinned widely at her as she began scooping scrambled eggs onto her plate.
"Quite the entrance," he said.
Hermione spared a glare at Ron.
"I am going to kill your sister," she muttered darkly.
Ron nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, that is getting kind of old, isn't it?"
Ginny suddenly passed behind Hermione, ruffling her even-bushier-than-normal hair fondly.
"Aw, don't be sore, Hermione! I'm just joking around!"
Ginny's ruffling made Hermione's already disastrous hair stand even more on end, which Hermione could hardly believe was possible. Hermione bit back the retort she would've liked to make only by scooping large amounts of scrambled eggs into her mouth.
Breakfast continued in a generally uneventful manner once it had begun, disregarding a minor spat between Ron and Hermione concerning the passing of a platter of bacon.
As soon as breakfast ended, Hermione made a hasty retreat back to Ginny's bedroom and quickly freshened herself up. As soon as she found herself in a presentable state, she exited the bedroom and made her way back downstairs. However, upon reaching the kitchen door, she felt the sudden urge to take a walk around Ottery St. Catchpole. Hermione adored the Weasleys, but living with them for so long in such close proximity was beginning to grind on her nerves—a walk by herself was just what she needed right now.
She slid through the front door as silently as possible, hoping to not draw attention to her departure. Once the Burrow was out of sight, she sighed in relief and followed the same path she, Harry, and Ron had walked the previous week. She walked slowly, relishing the silence and privacy.
Hermione knew that she would be leaving the Weasleys very shortly. Almost a month had passed since the Final Battle, and, just as Harry had, she knew that her time at the Burrow was coming to a close. Not that the Weasleys didn't want her there, of course, but seeing the Weasleys together was a constant reminder of her own family. Now that the initial turmoil of the Battle was over, she ached to release the spell on her parents and retrieve them from Australia.
She walked for a while, lost in thought, before she realized she was almost back at the Burrow. She grimaced slightly when she saw Ron standing in near the front gate, his arms crossed in a patronizing manner. Hermione could have sworn that she could see his ears from here, blazing red in what could only have been anger. She slowed her pace as she neared him.
"So where have you been?" Ron glowered angrily.
Hermione scowled back. "Where do you think I've been? I went for a walk, obviously."
This didn't seem to appease Ron's anger. "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving? I would have gone with you. Instead you left us all here worried!"
Hermione rolled her eyes in annoyance. "I was only gone for half an hour, Ronald."
"That doesn't matter," Ron fumed. "Who knows who could have been out there? Just because You-Know-Who is dead doesn't mean there aren't Death Eaters still around!"
"Oh, come off it! I can take care of myself, thank you very much."
Ron looked incredulous. "Maybe, but things happen, and I could—"
Hermione cut him off, bristling as her anger began to boil out of control.
"I don't need your patronizing, Ron! It seems I did just fine taking care of myself when you ditched Harry and me in the middle of nowhere!"
Ron looked as if she had just slapped him in the face, and Hermione regretted her words—barely and very briefly. It was his own fault, after all.
"I already—" Ron sputtered, "—I just—completely out of—"
"I don't even want to hear your excuses right now! Just leave me alone!"
And with that Hermione stormed past Ron and into the Burrow, immediately stomping up the stairs and into Ginny's bedroom. Ginny lay on her stomach on the bed, her ankles crossed in the air, reading a magazine. She glanced up innocently as Hermione barged in and began throwing her possessions haphazardly into her trunk.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" Ginny asked, mock-confused.
Hermione turned on the spot, shooting daggers at Ginny before continuing with her packing. "Oh, cut the act—I know you heard every word that Ron and I exchanged downstairs!"
Ginny shrugged, not bothering to have the grace to look even slightly ashamed. "You're right. And since we've skipped all the pointless pleasantries, do you mind if I give you some advice?"
Hermione shut her trunk harshly, and turned once again towards Ginny, teeth gritted. "Not at all. Do you mind if I roll my eyes, sigh deeply, and dismiss your advice as if it came from the village idiot?"
Ginny narrowed her eyes, though her lips twitched. "I might mind."
"Well then, let me give you some advice—"
"Just give it up, Hermione," Ginny said. "Sit down, cool off, and you and Ron will be back to your normal cuddly, kissy-wissy selves by dinner, like always."
Hermione mouth dropped open in astonishment. "When have Ron and I ever—cuddly—how could you even—you know what?! I don't even care! I can't deal with any of this right now!"
Then Hermione grasped the handle of her trunk and stormed towards the door, pausing only long enough to yell at Ginny to feed Crookshanks while she was gone. Clambering down the staircase and outside, she then stomped past a very surprised Ron, and disappeared with a crack.
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Hermione had barely registered where she going when she had Apparated, and was not surprised at where she had ended up—though she was surprised at the immediate drenching she received upon her arrival.
After trudging slowly and sullenly through the torrential downpour to the door of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, she knocked heavily and waited for her friend to answer.
A moment later the door swung open, revealing a somewhat bewildered Harry clutching a piece of toast in one hand.
Now this is my kind of time to eat breakfast, Hermione couldn't help but think bitterly.
"Hermione, what are you doing here so early?" Harry asked, concern etched in his voice.
Hermione smiled abashedly, making no attempt to move out of the rain.
"Do you think you could go with me to get my parents?"
