Potions was a disaster, Hermione couldn't stand the way he played with her
mind. But was she wrong to expect any less? In the back of her mind, she
had always thought of Snape as simply being misunderstood. Being naïve, she
thought that perhaps he just had the hard exterior to protect himself and
that underneath it all, he was kind and caring. Silly girl.
She rushed to her next class, Herbology. Personally, she didn't care for the class too much. Hermione wasn't exactly born with a green thumb. In fact, she tried raising plants at home and it seemed that if she dared to look at them they would be dry and wilted the next day. But being herself, she did what she had to do to meet the exceptionally high standards she had set for her academics.
In greenhouse number 6, she stood patiently listening and taking notes as the Professor explained the complicated process of growing and harvesting a Rubinisus plant- a plant that weakens the effects of certain types of neurosis. She stood next to a blonde Hufflepuff girl that was unusually dimwitted. She seemed to have constant look of confusion on her face and if anyone asked her a question, especially something concerning academics, she just tilted her head to the side and starred until the questioner realized there was no hope and walked off.
From where she stood, she could see the backs of Harry and Ron. Puberty had done them well and things had changed, how could she have expected them to remain the fabulous three forever? The first day of seventh year, they stepped onto the Hogwarts Express as the two most wanted males of Hogwarts. Ron had grown out of his scraggly red haired, pumpkin shaped face and into this tall, fit, sexually delightful 18 year old male. It was a given that Ron had turned into the best looking Weasley, even surpassing Bill's unforgotten good looks.
As for Harry, he was destined to be the object of sexual frustration for every female at Hogwarts- even some of the males to tell the truth. He had grown up, a full 6'2'', his shaggy black hair giving him a look the girls would swoon over.
Needless to say, puberty had treated them both very well. In between the two of them, they had shagged a large majority of the female population at Hogwarts. In the loo between classes, Hermione would overhear conversations completely surrounding who was better in bed.
"Oh god, Harry for sure. He does this thing his hips." "No, no. Ron, have you seen what he can do with his tongue?" "But Potter is such a shag. I mean, his dick is big enough to play stickball with." The last one came straight from Pansy Parkinson's mouth.
Doesn't say much about Malfoy, does it? Either way, Hermione was by herself now. Not because she was forced out of the shaggilicious duo's agenda, but because she preferred it that way.
At the end of the day, Hermione was exhausted. She sat at her desk, trying to ignore the loud noises coming from the Gryffindor common room down the corridor. N.E.W.T.S were only two months away and she had become anal about her rigorous study schedule.. Her head was hurting, and her skin felt itchy and uncomfortable on her body. She looked at the small red velvet box on the bedside table. Hermione's mother had given her the box during Christmas Break. At one point it was filled with her favorite dark chocolate. Now it contained something she wanted even more- Duplexplicis. She tried to concentrate on her Arithmancy, attempting to write a paper characterizing the distinct difference between Chaldean and Greek versions of the divination practice.
Before she had time to stop herself she was tearing the top of the box and grabbing the small amount of Duplexplicis and preparing it. She inhaled three thick lines and leaned against a nearby wall while the effect hit her like a bullet. Gods, yes. Perfection in powder form. Her eyes were wide open, glossed over and pupils the size of a pinpoint.
She rushed to her next class, Herbology. Personally, she didn't care for the class too much. Hermione wasn't exactly born with a green thumb. In fact, she tried raising plants at home and it seemed that if she dared to look at them they would be dry and wilted the next day. But being herself, she did what she had to do to meet the exceptionally high standards she had set for her academics.
In greenhouse number 6, she stood patiently listening and taking notes as the Professor explained the complicated process of growing and harvesting a Rubinisus plant- a plant that weakens the effects of certain types of neurosis. She stood next to a blonde Hufflepuff girl that was unusually dimwitted. She seemed to have constant look of confusion on her face and if anyone asked her a question, especially something concerning academics, she just tilted her head to the side and starred until the questioner realized there was no hope and walked off.
From where she stood, she could see the backs of Harry and Ron. Puberty had done them well and things had changed, how could she have expected them to remain the fabulous three forever? The first day of seventh year, they stepped onto the Hogwarts Express as the two most wanted males of Hogwarts. Ron had grown out of his scraggly red haired, pumpkin shaped face and into this tall, fit, sexually delightful 18 year old male. It was a given that Ron had turned into the best looking Weasley, even surpassing Bill's unforgotten good looks.
As for Harry, he was destined to be the object of sexual frustration for every female at Hogwarts- even some of the males to tell the truth. He had grown up, a full 6'2'', his shaggy black hair giving him a look the girls would swoon over.
Needless to say, puberty had treated them both very well. In between the two of them, they had shagged a large majority of the female population at Hogwarts. In the loo between classes, Hermione would overhear conversations completely surrounding who was better in bed.
"Oh god, Harry for sure. He does this thing his hips." "No, no. Ron, have you seen what he can do with his tongue?" "But Potter is such a shag. I mean, his dick is big enough to play stickball with." The last one came straight from Pansy Parkinson's mouth.
Doesn't say much about Malfoy, does it? Either way, Hermione was by herself now. Not because she was forced out of the shaggilicious duo's agenda, but because she preferred it that way.
At the end of the day, Hermione was exhausted. She sat at her desk, trying to ignore the loud noises coming from the Gryffindor common room down the corridor. N.E.W.T.S were only two months away and she had become anal about her rigorous study schedule.. Her head was hurting, and her skin felt itchy and uncomfortable on her body. She looked at the small red velvet box on the bedside table. Hermione's mother had given her the box during Christmas Break. At one point it was filled with her favorite dark chocolate. Now it contained something she wanted even more- Duplexplicis. She tried to concentrate on her Arithmancy, attempting to write a paper characterizing the distinct difference between Chaldean and Greek versions of the divination practice.
Before she had time to stop herself she was tearing the top of the box and grabbing the small amount of Duplexplicis and preparing it. She inhaled three thick lines and leaned against a nearby wall while the effect hit her like a bullet. Gods, yes. Perfection in powder form. Her eyes were wide open, glossed over and pupils the size of a pinpoint.