[ Author's Note : Hey all! Allie here. Um.. I got bored and decided to
write a Harry + Hermione fic because.. I could? Um, yeah. Fun. Anyways,
welcome to my house of insanity, innocent children! Mwaha. I shall rule the
earth! ]
[ Disclaimer : I don't own the Harry Potter characters. I wish I did. They're all (c) to J.K. Rowling. Don't sue me, I don't have any money. I'm broke. You won't get anything out of it. Heh. Oh... the plot is MINE. Steal and die, my children, and your little dog too! *Cackle* ]
StarChild
Short lashes blinked as the room surrounding their host slid in and out of focus. Blinking, the white ceiling above her became sharper, and she propped herself up on her elbows as she glanced around the room. What met her eyes was a practical room. Pale yellow walls surrounded her on four sides and a large white desk sat in the corner. A tall, built-in bookcase filled to the bursting lined the wall to her left. To her right were two doors: one leading to the hall, and the other into her closet. Hermione Granger stretched, yawned, and climbed out of her twin-sized bed. She knew what other people would think of her room: practical, annoyingly practical, and neat, unusually neat for a fifteen-year-old girl.
But she had stopped paying attention to what other people would think years ago. Sighing, she pulled on a white blouse and jeans. Picking up a brush, she ran it through her thick, frizzy waves. Her hand-held mirrors - one of the only things that she had brought from the wizarding world back to her muggle home - gave her a hopeful smile. "Don't worry, dear, you'll blossom someday." Yes, she thought, someday. But why not now? Why not today? Glancing downwards, her eyes settled on her trunks and bulging bookbag. She was going back. Again. Back to another term, just the same, back to another semester as kind, thoughtful, help-you-with-your-homework Hermione. Hermione who no boy ever gave a second glance unless they needed help with their Transfiguration homework, or the notes from last class. Except for Harry and Ron. But they don't count. They're your friends. And you're hardly a girl to them. She gave a weak chuckle thinking of how Ron had just realized that she was a girl last year. What exactly was it he'd said?
"Hermione, Neville's right - you are a girl…"
"Oh, well spotted." She had said acidly.
"Well - you can come with one of us!"
"No, I can't." She'd snapped.
"Oh, come on," He'd said impatiently, "We need
partners, we're going to look really stupid if we
haven't got any, everyone else has..."
"I can't come with you, because I'm already
going with someone."
"No, you're not!" Ron had said, "You just said that
to get rid of Neville!"
She remembered that clearly. It hadn't gone very well... but that was all over. Viktor was no longer a... a subject of interest, as Ron might say. They had decided it was too hard, with him living so far away, and going to Durmstrang. More precisely, "Hermy-own-ninny, I vink et may ve time vor us to break vup. Avter all, Durmstrang students do not date Hogwarts virls, vey are too var avay. Vi am very vorry to let you go, vut I veel that it may be vor the best." Great. The only guy who had ever shown any interest in her whatsoever, bailing on her because she lived too "var avay." She had never liked that accent of his. Her name was not Hermy-own-ninny. But, still, it was a horrible feeling to know that now no one thought of her in 'that' way. Hermione, she told herself sternly, stop thinking that way. It'll only make things worse. Look! You've already wasted time. Now take your things and get ready for another year at Hogwarts! She sighed. She knew that little voice inside of her was right, she should be happy with what she had - great friends, great grades, a promising future, and a prefect badge.
Her badge! She'd almost forgotten it. Stepping back to her bedside table, she picked it up and smiled down at it. 'Prefect' glittered up at her, shiny and perfect after her many hours of polishing last night. Hastily pinning it to her blouse, she staggered from the room under the weight of her luggage. Crookshanks stretched and let out a content noise. Leaping after Hermione, he settled on top of one of her trunks and looked up at her, purring and apparently very proud of his clever way of hitching a ride. As a congratulations, Hermione muttered, "Gerrof, Crookshanks, that's NOT funny." Swatting at the cat, he scowled at her and leapt down the stairs, yowling his complaints to Mrs. Granger.
"Crookshanks, you little fiend, what did you do now?" Shannon Granger [ Author's Note: Er.. sorry. I didn't know Hermione's mom's name. So I made it up... heh. ] Walking up the steps, she saw Hermione struggling under the weight of her supplies. "Oh, dear, let me help you." She picked up two of Hermione's trunks and led the way down the stairs.
"Mmm, Mum, these pancakes are perfect."
"Why thank you, dear, made them myself. Sugarless, of course." Hermione smiled at her mom. Since both of her parents were dentists, there wasn't a single thing in the entire household that contained sugar. Cramming the last of her pancake into her mouth, she took two of her trunks and proceeded in stuffing them into the trunk of her mom's car.
"Whoa there killer, let me help you with those." Hermione turned to see her dad looking amusedly down at her. She gave him a quick kiss and continued packing her luggage into the vehicle. She then leapt into the back seat, leaned out the window, and called, "Let's go, then!" Her parents climbed into the car, chuckling.
"Hermione," stated her father, "I'll never figure out why you're always so eager to go to school."
[ Disclaimer : I don't own the Harry Potter characters. I wish I did. They're all (c) to J.K. Rowling. Don't sue me, I don't have any money. I'm broke. You won't get anything out of it. Heh. Oh... the plot is MINE. Steal and die, my children, and your little dog too! *Cackle* ]
StarChild
Short lashes blinked as the room surrounding their host slid in and out of focus. Blinking, the white ceiling above her became sharper, and she propped herself up on her elbows as she glanced around the room. What met her eyes was a practical room. Pale yellow walls surrounded her on four sides and a large white desk sat in the corner. A tall, built-in bookcase filled to the bursting lined the wall to her left. To her right were two doors: one leading to the hall, and the other into her closet. Hermione Granger stretched, yawned, and climbed out of her twin-sized bed. She knew what other people would think of her room: practical, annoyingly practical, and neat, unusually neat for a fifteen-year-old girl.
But she had stopped paying attention to what other people would think years ago. Sighing, she pulled on a white blouse and jeans. Picking up a brush, she ran it through her thick, frizzy waves. Her hand-held mirrors - one of the only things that she had brought from the wizarding world back to her muggle home - gave her a hopeful smile. "Don't worry, dear, you'll blossom someday." Yes, she thought, someday. But why not now? Why not today? Glancing downwards, her eyes settled on her trunks and bulging bookbag. She was going back. Again. Back to another term, just the same, back to another semester as kind, thoughtful, help-you-with-your-homework Hermione. Hermione who no boy ever gave a second glance unless they needed help with their Transfiguration homework, or the notes from last class. Except for Harry and Ron. But they don't count. They're your friends. And you're hardly a girl to them. She gave a weak chuckle thinking of how Ron had just realized that she was a girl last year. What exactly was it he'd said?
"Hermione, Neville's right - you are a girl…"
"Oh, well spotted." She had said acidly.
"Well - you can come with one of us!"
"No, I can't." She'd snapped.
"Oh, come on," He'd said impatiently, "We need
partners, we're going to look really stupid if we
haven't got any, everyone else has..."
"I can't come with you, because I'm already
going with someone."
"No, you're not!" Ron had said, "You just said that
to get rid of Neville!"
She remembered that clearly. It hadn't gone very well... but that was all over. Viktor was no longer a... a subject of interest, as Ron might say. They had decided it was too hard, with him living so far away, and going to Durmstrang. More precisely, "Hermy-own-ninny, I vink et may ve time vor us to break vup. Avter all, Durmstrang students do not date Hogwarts virls, vey are too var avay. Vi am very vorry to let you go, vut I veel that it may be vor the best." Great. The only guy who had ever shown any interest in her whatsoever, bailing on her because she lived too "var avay." She had never liked that accent of his. Her name was not Hermy-own-ninny. But, still, it was a horrible feeling to know that now no one thought of her in 'that' way. Hermione, she told herself sternly, stop thinking that way. It'll only make things worse. Look! You've already wasted time. Now take your things and get ready for another year at Hogwarts! She sighed. She knew that little voice inside of her was right, she should be happy with what she had - great friends, great grades, a promising future, and a prefect badge.
Her badge! She'd almost forgotten it. Stepping back to her bedside table, she picked it up and smiled down at it. 'Prefect' glittered up at her, shiny and perfect after her many hours of polishing last night. Hastily pinning it to her blouse, she staggered from the room under the weight of her luggage. Crookshanks stretched and let out a content noise. Leaping after Hermione, he settled on top of one of her trunks and looked up at her, purring and apparently very proud of his clever way of hitching a ride. As a congratulations, Hermione muttered, "Gerrof, Crookshanks, that's NOT funny." Swatting at the cat, he scowled at her and leapt down the stairs, yowling his complaints to Mrs. Granger.
"Crookshanks, you little fiend, what did you do now?" Shannon Granger [ Author's Note: Er.. sorry. I didn't know Hermione's mom's name. So I made it up... heh. ] Walking up the steps, she saw Hermione struggling under the weight of her supplies. "Oh, dear, let me help you." She picked up two of Hermione's trunks and led the way down the stairs.
"Mmm, Mum, these pancakes are perfect."
"Why thank you, dear, made them myself. Sugarless, of course." Hermione smiled at her mom. Since both of her parents were dentists, there wasn't a single thing in the entire household that contained sugar. Cramming the last of her pancake into her mouth, she took two of her trunks and proceeded in stuffing them into the trunk of her mom's car.
"Whoa there killer, let me help you with those." Hermione turned to see her dad looking amusedly down at her. She gave him a quick kiss and continued packing her luggage into the vehicle. She then leapt into the back seat, leaned out the window, and called, "Let's go, then!" Her parents climbed into the car, chuckling.
"Hermione," stated her father, "I'll never figure out why you're always so eager to go to school."
