A/N: Ok, I had to start this story over after I DELETED IT! ACK! So...enjoy! PS!: Hermione swears more! :) Sorry! She's at a depressing point in her life.
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I drove and drove until I could read the directions Ron gave me on my hand. The place Harry told to meet me at was big and there were lilacs and rosebushes everywhere. The door panels were made out of pure gold and you could see them sparkle in the twilight.
"Quiant little place, isn't it?" I said to myself, chuckling.
There were an awful lot of cars holding reporters and other important people, almost as though there was someone really important here tonight..........
I slammed on the brakes at this thought.
"DAMN! ACK ACK ACK! ACK I SAY!" I shouted, pounding my head on the steering wheel.
Maybe I should drive back now and fake sick? I wondered.
"NO!" I yelled aloud, hoping people didn't think I was crazy.
I drove around to the parking lot and parked my Merce into a small space towards the back. I checked myself in the mirror one last time (which by the way, scared me beyond scaredness) and stepped out. Maybe it was me, or the restaurant, but whichever one it was, it was making me feel very inferior as I stepped into the finely furnished main room.
A man estimated about 60 came to my service. He had on a black tux and his gray oily hair was sleeked back.
"Welcome, Miss. How may I be of service?" He asked, bowing and talking in an oily voice much like his hair.
"I'm here with Harry Potter!" I said uncertainly.
"Of course you are." He smarmed.
He crisply clapped his hands and on command, a pimply redhead bounded over.
"Steven, take this young lady to Mr. Potter's table. And do tuck in your shirt!" He said, as Steven jerked up like a marionette and beckoned for me to follow him.
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I drove and drove until I could read the directions Ron gave me on my hand. The place Harry told to meet me at was big and there were lilacs and rosebushes everywhere. The door panels were made out of pure gold and you could see them sparkle in the twilight.
"Quiant little place, isn't it?" I said to myself, chuckling.
There were an awful lot of cars holding reporters and other important people, almost as though there was someone really important here tonight..........
I slammed on the brakes at this thought.
"DAMN! ACK ACK ACK! ACK I SAY!" I shouted, pounding my head on the steering wheel.
Maybe I should drive back now and fake sick? I wondered.
"NO!" I yelled aloud, hoping people didn't think I was crazy.
I drove around to the parking lot and parked my Merce into a small space towards the back. I checked myself in the mirror one last time (which by the way, scared me beyond scaredness) and stepped out. Maybe it was me, or the restaurant, but whichever one it was, it was making me feel very inferior as I stepped into the finely furnished main room.
A man estimated about 60 came to my service. He had on a black tux and his gray oily hair was sleeked back.
"Welcome, Miss. How may I be of service?" He asked, bowing and talking in an oily voice much like his hair.
"I'm here with Harry Potter!" I said uncertainly.
"Of course you are." He smarmed.
He crisply clapped his hands and on command, a pimply redhead bounded over.
"Steven, take this young lady to Mr. Potter's table. And do tuck in your shirt!" He said, as Steven jerked up like a marionette and beckoned for me to follow him.
