Disclaimer: I do not own anything that the fabulous J.K. Rowling has
created. I am not fortunate enough.
A/N: Hi y'all, it's Always Hopeful here... again. I know I should not be starting a new fiction, but this idea was just itching to get out. I'll still write my Labyrinth stories, no fear of that. I hope you like my fic. Just remember, this IS the first person POV, so be prepared for pure crap ahead.
Bloody hell. Is today the day that I think it is? Crap, it is. It's time for me to get up. I have to catch the train for Hogwarts.
For those of you who don't know me, I'm Hermoine Granger: excellent student and Head Girl of Gryffendor house for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This shall be my seventh and final year at Hogwarts and I am thrilled. Don't get me wrong, of coarse. I'll miss my friends and all my teachers. But I feel confident about moving on in the world.
I slowly climbed out of my bed and studied myself in my vanity mirror. Why do they call these 'vanity' mirrors, anyway? I'm not vain, am I?
Anyway, I'm still here, the same old Hermoine! Big, puppy dog eyes, big, poofy hair... big everything! I quickly got dressed and headed downstairs to seem that my parents had already started eating breakfast.
"Good morning," I said as cheerfully as I could.
"Morning, princess," they chorused. I hate it when they call me 'princess'. It makes me feel so childish.
"Looking forward to your final year at Hogwarts?" my father asked.
"Of coarse," I replied.
"Now, don't forget, your Grandmother Hattie is coming next month, so be sure to let Professor Dumbledore know you will be needing a day pass from Hogwarts so you can see her," said my mum.
I tensed. Grandmother Hattie? On no, my mother said the words. I looked at my father, who now had a huge frown on his face. I had trouble swallowing he lump of tears accumulating in my throat.
You see, my parents have been fighting a lot lately, mostly about my grandmother. Dad said she's an old witch, pardon the pun, who completely controls everything my mum does. Then, she rebuttals by saying he knows nothing of the type of pressure she is under. It goes into more detail, but I don't wish to bore you with that.
"Your... mother?" he asked slowly.
"Yes dear, my mother," mum replied, staring hard at my dad. "She wants to see our daughter, is that so bad?"
"No, of coarse not," scowled my father. "After all, she criticizes you enough, why not out daughter?"
"Dan, not in front of Hermoine," scolded my mother.
"Well, maybe we can discuss this tomorrow, or better yet, when your mother gets here. Lord knows she needs a serious wake up call." My father threw his napkin down on the table, pushed back his chair, and stormed out of the room.
My mother stood, picked up her plate, placed in on top of my fathers, looked at me sorrowfully and smiled.
"You better get your luggage, dear," she said. "You don't want to be late for your train." She silently retreated to the kitchen with the plates, like a dog with its tail between its legs after being kicked by its master.
The car ride there was dead silent. As I sat in the back seat, I watched my parents intently. My father sat, head straight ahead, with the few exceptions of lane changes and such. My mother stared silently out her side window, every now and then wiping a tear from her cheek.
Yes, we're here! I am finally on my way back to Hogwarts. I kissed my mother and father good-bye and stepped onto the train. Now all I have to do is find Harry and Ron. But that is going to be so difficult because there are too many first years crowding in the incredibly small isle. Was I ever this small? I suppose I was.
I walked between each student until I happened to peak in a random compartment to find Harry and Ron, waving for me to join them.
"You made it," cried Ron excitedly. He stood and hugged me, as did Harry.
"Of coarse I did, silly," I smiled. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Because of the huge mob of students out there," said Harry. We all sat down, me next to Ron and across from Harry. "Gosh, can you believe this is our last year here?"
"It's a shocker, alright," smirked Ron. "It seems like just yesterday, we met. Harry, all new to the whole wizarding experience. Me, a huge scaredy cat, and 'Moine, acting like a stuck up know-it-all." I swat him playfully.
"First of al, I DO know everything," I joked. "Second of all, you're STILL a scaredy cat. You haven't changed one bit."
Ron began to say something in protest, but I didn't catch it. He was interrupted when the door slid open and my least favorite person in the world (three guesses who) walked in.
"Well, if it isn't St. Potter and his loyal minions: the Weasel, and the mudblood!" he drawled. I felt my skin crawl. Did he just call me a mudblood? Yes, he did. He called me that foul name, and I wish I had a handful of- Crap! What is Ron doing?
"Take that back, snake!" he cried, pointing his wand at Draco's throat. I stood up and placed my hand on Ron's.
"No, Ron," I said. "We haven't even left the platform yet." He nodded gloomily and sat down. What else can I do? I mean, I wish I could send Draco right through the roof of the train, but I can't.
"Well, well, Weasel," smirked Draco. "Seems to me you're not man enough to fight your own battles, so you have to send this mudblood-," That was it. I couldn't take it anymore. He just called me a mudblood for the second time in less than two minutes.
Without even thinking twice, I punched Draco right in the nose. He fell backwards, hitting the car door opposite mine. Even thought I knew it was wrong, I couldn't stop myself.
"Whoa!" smiled Ron. "Go Hermoine!"
"Dat will gost you BIG dime, you mudblood," said Draco, grabbing at his nose. He stood and walked off.
"That was great, Hermoine," said Harry as he and Ron pat me on the back.
"Thanks," I said, offering a weak smile. Then, I had a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I sat down and stared out the window.
"What's wrong, 'Moine?" asked Ron as he sat next to me and Harry across.
"Just- just-," I couldn't speak. My own despair was causing me to fumble.
"Come on, you can tell us," said Harry. I broke down, then, and just cried. Ron slipped his arm around my shoulder. I told them the whole take of my parents and they listened sympathetically.
"Oh, I'm sorry, 'Moine," said Ron once I'd finished. "I'm sure it'll turn out fine in the end. Right, Harry?"
"Right," agreed Harry. It was then that the train began to move.
"Don't worry," said Ron. "Harry and I won't let anything happen to you."
"Thank you, Ron, Harry," I smiled, resting my head on Ron's shoulder. "That means a lot to me."
A/N: Oh gosh, I am so sorry for this crap that I gave you guys. Just let me know, how horrible am I? Give it to me straight.
A/N: Hi y'all, it's Always Hopeful here... again. I know I should not be starting a new fiction, but this idea was just itching to get out. I'll still write my Labyrinth stories, no fear of that. I hope you like my fic. Just remember, this IS the first person POV, so be prepared for pure crap ahead.
Bloody hell. Is today the day that I think it is? Crap, it is. It's time for me to get up. I have to catch the train for Hogwarts.
For those of you who don't know me, I'm Hermoine Granger: excellent student and Head Girl of Gryffendor house for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This shall be my seventh and final year at Hogwarts and I am thrilled. Don't get me wrong, of coarse. I'll miss my friends and all my teachers. But I feel confident about moving on in the world.
I slowly climbed out of my bed and studied myself in my vanity mirror. Why do they call these 'vanity' mirrors, anyway? I'm not vain, am I?
Anyway, I'm still here, the same old Hermoine! Big, puppy dog eyes, big, poofy hair... big everything! I quickly got dressed and headed downstairs to seem that my parents had already started eating breakfast.
"Good morning," I said as cheerfully as I could.
"Morning, princess," they chorused. I hate it when they call me 'princess'. It makes me feel so childish.
"Looking forward to your final year at Hogwarts?" my father asked.
"Of coarse," I replied.
"Now, don't forget, your Grandmother Hattie is coming next month, so be sure to let Professor Dumbledore know you will be needing a day pass from Hogwarts so you can see her," said my mum.
I tensed. Grandmother Hattie? On no, my mother said the words. I looked at my father, who now had a huge frown on his face. I had trouble swallowing he lump of tears accumulating in my throat.
You see, my parents have been fighting a lot lately, mostly about my grandmother. Dad said she's an old witch, pardon the pun, who completely controls everything my mum does. Then, she rebuttals by saying he knows nothing of the type of pressure she is under. It goes into more detail, but I don't wish to bore you with that.
"Your... mother?" he asked slowly.
"Yes dear, my mother," mum replied, staring hard at my dad. "She wants to see our daughter, is that so bad?"
"No, of coarse not," scowled my father. "After all, she criticizes you enough, why not out daughter?"
"Dan, not in front of Hermoine," scolded my mother.
"Well, maybe we can discuss this tomorrow, or better yet, when your mother gets here. Lord knows she needs a serious wake up call." My father threw his napkin down on the table, pushed back his chair, and stormed out of the room.
My mother stood, picked up her plate, placed in on top of my fathers, looked at me sorrowfully and smiled.
"You better get your luggage, dear," she said. "You don't want to be late for your train." She silently retreated to the kitchen with the plates, like a dog with its tail between its legs after being kicked by its master.
The car ride there was dead silent. As I sat in the back seat, I watched my parents intently. My father sat, head straight ahead, with the few exceptions of lane changes and such. My mother stared silently out her side window, every now and then wiping a tear from her cheek.
Yes, we're here! I am finally on my way back to Hogwarts. I kissed my mother and father good-bye and stepped onto the train. Now all I have to do is find Harry and Ron. But that is going to be so difficult because there are too many first years crowding in the incredibly small isle. Was I ever this small? I suppose I was.
I walked between each student until I happened to peak in a random compartment to find Harry and Ron, waving for me to join them.
"You made it," cried Ron excitedly. He stood and hugged me, as did Harry.
"Of coarse I did, silly," I smiled. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Because of the huge mob of students out there," said Harry. We all sat down, me next to Ron and across from Harry. "Gosh, can you believe this is our last year here?"
"It's a shocker, alright," smirked Ron. "It seems like just yesterday, we met. Harry, all new to the whole wizarding experience. Me, a huge scaredy cat, and 'Moine, acting like a stuck up know-it-all." I swat him playfully.
"First of al, I DO know everything," I joked. "Second of all, you're STILL a scaredy cat. You haven't changed one bit."
Ron began to say something in protest, but I didn't catch it. He was interrupted when the door slid open and my least favorite person in the world (three guesses who) walked in.
"Well, if it isn't St. Potter and his loyal minions: the Weasel, and the mudblood!" he drawled. I felt my skin crawl. Did he just call me a mudblood? Yes, he did. He called me that foul name, and I wish I had a handful of- Crap! What is Ron doing?
"Take that back, snake!" he cried, pointing his wand at Draco's throat. I stood up and placed my hand on Ron's.
"No, Ron," I said. "We haven't even left the platform yet." He nodded gloomily and sat down. What else can I do? I mean, I wish I could send Draco right through the roof of the train, but I can't.
"Well, well, Weasel," smirked Draco. "Seems to me you're not man enough to fight your own battles, so you have to send this mudblood-," That was it. I couldn't take it anymore. He just called me a mudblood for the second time in less than two minutes.
Without even thinking twice, I punched Draco right in the nose. He fell backwards, hitting the car door opposite mine. Even thought I knew it was wrong, I couldn't stop myself.
"Whoa!" smiled Ron. "Go Hermoine!"
"Dat will gost you BIG dime, you mudblood," said Draco, grabbing at his nose. He stood and walked off.
"That was great, Hermoine," said Harry as he and Ron pat me on the back.
"Thanks," I said, offering a weak smile. Then, I had a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I sat down and stared out the window.
"What's wrong, 'Moine?" asked Ron as he sat next to me and Harry across.
"Just- just-," I couldn't speak. My own despair was causing me to fumble.
"Come on, you can tell us," said Harry. I broke down, then, and just cried. Ron slipped his arm around my shoulder. I told them the whole take of my parents and they listened sympathetically.
"Oh, I'm sorry, 'Moine," said Ron once I'd finished. "I'm sure it'll turn out fine in the end. Right, Harry?"
"Right," agreed Harry. It was then that the train began to move.
"Don't worry," said Ron. "Harry and I won't let anything happen to you."
"Thank you, Ron, Harry," I smiled, resting my head on Ron's shoulder. "That means a lot to me."
A/N: Oh gosh, I am so sorry for this crap that I gave you guys. Just let me know, how horrible am I? Give it to me straight.