Welcome those of you who are ready to read the inner workings of my mind. I hope you enjoy my very FIRST fic...the first chapter is just a prologue-ish intro. By the way, this fic will probably suck crap...and since it's R, anyone not supposed to be here, get the fuck out and read some fluff or some other crap. And if you haven't noticed, I am pissed today because this kid at school thinks he actually has a chance with me and so he's stalking me and other shit. Yeah. And by the way, this first chap is in Hermione's POV, okay? Good...by the way, there is some religion and Hermione being bored at a funeral service crap, so if you don't like it, go away. I'm not giving you any hints to what is happening either. Later, I mean. And I'm from the USA so if you don't know what I'm talking about, review and ask. Different parts of the world, different things.


Disclaimer: Look, do I seem rich enough to buy the whole of Harry Potter? I don t even own Sora, okay? By the way, he's the boy I have a crush on. Really cute...he could be Draco Malfoy...who is even CUTER than Sora in my mind. Whoa, sorry, back to the point...


~*~*

I sat back in the pew. I was almost the only girl in my family not crying.

"Poor Grandma...she died happily though." My mom sniffed, slouching in the seat next to me, sobbing.

"Calm down dear..." Dad cooed.

I honestly didn't know her...so I really didn't care. I was actually bored out of my mind...it had been three hours already, and Father was just blabbing on and on. I knew shouldn't be thinking things that I was, but sheesh!

For instance, I was just sitting staring at Grandma Shelley when I was immediately struck with the thought, "What if she sat up and started running around baring vampire fangs?"

I could almost see it happening. How interesting. I could have laughed.

But then I was struck again with, "Wait, what am I doing thinking something like that, I'm Hermione Granger." and so I banished all thoughts and dripped slowly into a vegetable like state of stupor.

~*~*


Two hours later, we were driving home. "Thank God..." was all I could let my mind think.

Man, if I told Harry and Ron I hadn't thought anything for two whole hours, they'd call me a liar and tell me I would be a good fictional writer.

There was a lurch as my dad pulled into our driveway.

Opening the door, I smiled.

"Hi Crookshanks...catch any mice?" He purred in my arms as I opened the door for my mom and dad.

I stepped over the pile of papers on the flight of stairs leading to my room, and made my way up. Opening the door to my room, I stepped in and took off my jacket. I dropped Crookshanks on the bed while I changed.

Jumping on the bed next to Crookshanks, I pulled out my book from under the pillow. A dirty, dog-eared copy of Tales of Mystery and Terror written by Edgar Allan Poe was the book, and I immediately turned to my favorite story, The Pit and the Pendulum. I loved the way it was written. My eyes fairly flew over each line; I could read at quite a fast speed. I slowed down as I reached my favorite part, and read it aloud.

"I saw, too, for a few moments of delirious horror, the soft and nearly imperceptible waving of the sable draperies which enwrapped the walls of the apartment." Here I paused and looked at Crookshanks, who was staring at the book as though it might burst into orange flames with his wide, yellow eyes. I continued.

"And then my vision fell upon the seven tall candles upon the table. At first they wore the aspect of charity, and seemed white slender angels who would save me; but then, all at once, there came a most deadly nausea over my spirit, and I felt every fiber in my frame thrill as if I had touched the wire of a galvanic battery, while the angel forms became meaningless specters, with heads of flame, and I saw that from them there would be no help."

I looked up again, and spoke to Crookshanks.

"He had wonderful talent...he wrote as though he was actually in the chamber...feeling desolate and pained. Only, only I don't like the end. Why did he write that he was saved...well, actually it's simple...he wouldn't keep you in suspense and you'd be feeling and saying to yourself what a crappy story it was and all..."

Crookshanks purred and began to paw my bed sheet.

"Oy, stop that!!! You'll ruin the silk!!" He stopped and looked at me apologetically.

A faint tapping at the window caught my attention and I stopped scowling at Crookshanks and turned to the glass. IT was a school owl, no doubt delivering the book list and other important information.

It took off as I sat on my desk, but i left the window open. Crookshanks crawled out, down the trellis and into the garden to chase sparrows.

"What a cad..." I said to myself. I read the letter out loud.

"Blah blah, you need this book and that book...don't forget to get potion ingredients... you have been accepted into seventh year as the Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...wait, what the hell?! Yes!!! Take that all you lazy stupid zombies at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger worked her ass off and look where it got her!!! Haha, stupid idiots!! I-wait, who's Head Boy?"

My eyes scanned the page as I hoped to see some sign of who was the Head Boy. I turned it over, and could barely make out Hagrid's scrawl.

Dear Hermione,

Dumbledore told me that you're going to be Head Girl!!! I'm happy for you and hope you're happy too. I intercepted the owl before it left...I thought you would want to know, but Draco Malfoy is the Head Boy. Sorry about the disappointment, but you can handle the slimy git anyway. Oh, I have to go!!

See you later,
Hagrid

I smiled. It was good of Hagrid to go through the trouble. But it was not good of Draco Malfoy to be smart and actually do work and be Head Boy. HE was sooooooo stupid...he wasn't even cute. Now, let's see...Dean was cute. He and Seamus. Definitely NOT Ron or Harry. Eww, that would be gross.

My mother knocked on the door and told me it was dinner. I thanked her, and told her the news. She congratulated me warmheartedly, and we walked downstairs to the dining room conversing my ability to do the part of Head Girl.

~*~*

Okay, like I said, that was an intro to the rest of the story. It will be interesting...to say the least. Now, if you loved it, you would review. If you hated it, you would review. I want CON-FUCKING-STRUCTIVE criticisms, you got that? Now, I will upload when I get 10 reviews. Because I love you. And I was just joking. Just review the damn thing, okay? Good...Mr. Bigglesworth loves reviews...