--A/N- Why do I always forget the disclaimers? Well here 'tis. It's must be obvious that I'm not J.K. Rowling, or I wouldn't have needed to waste a stamp for that fanletter that her publishers ended up answering:( Occasionally glacing up... er, sorry, I'm listening to Pigs on the Wing(by Pink Floyd)well, J.K., I'm just borrowing them for a moment, so don't sic the Wb on me because I'll just go hide in Hicksville:)No snide comments about the length of my chapters. *has hyperness left over from overflow of artistic talent yesterday*

Over the next week, Hermione was flooded with owls. Surprisingly, everyone could and would attend the party(which was scheduled for the next Monday when her parents would be attending a dentists' conference), and most had responded cordially to the Respondez Sil'vous'plaits. Two had been stiff and cold; she'd expected them to not attend.

Harry's

Dear Hermione,

Thanks for inviting me. I'll be there early(about 5-ish) because that's the only time Sirius can take me(he said something about the beauty of rush hour).

Sincerely yours,

Harry

.

Ron, Fred, and George's

Dearest Hermione,

Many thanks for inviting us; we'll be there at 7:30.

Ever yours,

Ron

P.S.- Forgive Ron, he's smitten with you. If you don't mind, we plan to bring "entertainment".

Fred & George
.

And so on. Most of the letters were along the first strand, but Draco's had included a slight reprimand of the rules that Hermione'd included in his letter(#1- NO NAME CALLING). She finished reading them, and sat down with an excellant book, namely, 100,000 Ways to Host a Good Party(ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred-ninety-ninth edition).

The next day, she sat at her desk making a list of stuff to buy. Tapping her wand for inspiration, she filled out the list. Leaving a note for her mother, she got out her bicycle to ride to the nearest town(she didn't want to walk back carrying a half dozen heavy paper sacks). Telling Crookshanks to guard the house, she set off.

She came back, quite flustered from the long, hot ride. Her mother was home, and Hermione greeted her at the door. Mrs. Granger helped her carry in the supplies and put them away. Hermione took the CDs she'd gotten and popped a couple into her stereo. The first one was "Animals" by Pink Floyd. It started playing Pigs on the Wing part 1.

"If you didn't care what happened to me,

And I didn't care for you,

We would zig-zag our way, through the boredom and pain,

Occasionally, glancing up through the rain,

Wondering, which of the buggers to blame,

And watching, for pigs on the wing."

All too soon the short, yet beautiful song ended, and Dogs started to play. Hermione sat back against her bed, just listening to the music and soon fell asleep.

Seventeen minutes later, in another part of the country, Draco was reading a letter from Millicent ("Big man, pig man, HA HA! charade you are...") and was feeling quite relieved she was also going. Together, those Mudbloods and idiots from the rest of the school couldn't defeat him-Or her... Draco agreed with himself. He'd show them what it meant to be in Slytherin...