Disclaimer: I don't own anything you probably recognize in this story. However, the plot is copyrighted © to me, jaeEun. You plagiarise, you die.
It was night, and Safonia Lane was quiet, aside from the occasional sounds of car horns disturbing the peace of the little lane.
Only one light apart from the street lamps could be seen shining in this street, and that was the one in Hermione Granger's room
Yes, Hermione Granger was studying – well, reading – as usual. It was well into the third week of the holidays, and Hermione was not one to procrastinate. Upon completing assigned homework earlier on in the week, she had taken to reading all sorts of books from both her local library and the one she had conveniently found in Diagon Alley.
The sound of talons scratching at her window made her wince. No matter how many times she heard that, she'd never grow accustomed to it. Hermione quickly walked to the window to let Errol in. She'd been waiting for a message of some sort from either Ron or Harry.
Indeed, this was a letter from the former, just as she'd expected.
Dear Hermione,
Just wondering if you're still able to come to The Burrow around Thursday next week? Harry'll be here around then to. Owl back, Mum and Ginny send regards. [I won't bother passing on Fred and George's – come and get them yourself.
Ron.
Promptly Hermione penned a reply, and tied it onto Errol's leg, after giving him a moment of respite. He's getting very old, she thought. He'd been old when she's first met him – what, five years go – and now he had only gotten older.
She leaned over her bed to open her window, and he flew out, still a graceful creature of the night. She smiled slightly – she'd be back among her chosen world soon enough. Her parents loved her, they really did, and they tried to hard to accept that she was different to the norm; they tried to understand her, but there were things she could never explain to them. She wasn't naturally a chatty person, and had always preferred books to socializing. Not that she had anything against it – people had always seen her as strange, just for the reason that she loved books, instead of other, more 'normal' interests, and for the fact that when they were around Hermione Granger 'don't go near her – the weirdest things happened to me' as someone so elegantly put it.
Sometimes girls, especially, surprised her at how low they'd stoop to get what they anted. Hadn't they any self-respect or morals? Evidently not.
Tired, having stayed up quite late for the past nights reading, she decided to go to bed early. Unbeknownst to her, though, within the next 24 hours, her life would take a 215-degree turn.
"Hermione!"
"Hermione, are you up?"
Hermione blearily opened her eyes – eyes that widened in shock as she registered the time
"Oh, crud! It's nine!"
As she dressed, she muttered to herself over the disbelief of sleeping more than eight-and-a-half hours. She'd gotten to bed at eleven-thirty last night.
"I'm coming, Mum!"
And so she did, hurrying down the stairs in her annoyance at over-sleeping.
"Hermione! Are you feeling alright? You slept for far longer than usual!"
"I know," Hermione groaned. "Nothing wrong, though, I think I was just tired."
"Well, then, that's a relief. Now, sweetie, Dad and I are both leaving for work soon – will you be alright?"
"Honestly, Mum, I'm going to be 17 soon. Yes, I'll be fine."
"Find something to eat in the pantry somewhere – I really do have to go grocery shopping today."
"As I've been telling you for the past week," Hermione said teasingly.
Taslia Granger smiled. "Oh, I know, I know, but I'm just so busy these days. Oh well. Bye, sweetie."
"Bye, Mum."
"Danyul! Don't you want to get to work on time? Hurry!"
"Coming, Lia – Morning, My-one."
"Morning – bye, Dad!" She rolled her eyes at the endearment.
"Now, Hermione, are you sure you're alright?"
"Yes," Hermione said, a little exasperated. "I'll be fine."
"Well, alright…"
"Have a nice day! Don't worry about me!" Finally, having reassured her mother to an extent, her parents headed off to their respective works, and she went inside, to eat breakfast, first and foremost, and perhaps read some more of 'Hogwarts: A Detailed History'.
As she was eating and reading, her eyelids felt so heavy again – was there something wrong with her? – and she slipped into a state of sleep.
Hermione opened her eyes; how long she had been sleeping she did not know.
The space – the air, around her was a queer mix of blue and red, blending, swirling and combining to create a harmony which instantly calmed Hermione down to a degree that she was able to collect her wits about her, and remember that she was a 6th Year witch, and one from Hogwarts at that. A befuddled mind will help no-one. Keep calm. As she calmed, she noticed the fog of colours clearing, fading into a colourless void. She felt as if a movie was playing in front of her eyes, and her eyes only – a movie full of colour, light and sounds. Everything besides her and the memory-movie didn't exist, well, not in this world, not in this time.