Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic. Dang, it's annoying to write this.
A/N: Thanks everyone for reveiwing. I'd name you off as usual, but I'm sort of in a hurry and I'd have to go back to my email site to do that. Thanks still.
A Different You by Lina Shay
Chapter Six: Grieved
"Hermione...er...are you ok?" Malfoy asked, looking concerned.
Hermione placed a hand over her mouth as her mind raced. Her mother was dead? She knew this world was something unreal, but what if she couldn't get back? What if there was no way that she would ever see her mum again? Suddenly, Hermione remembered when her mother use to sit beside her in her bed and tell her all sorts of stories. She told stories of dragons and unicorns and wizards. Hermione used to think they were all just fairy tales. Then when Hermione started going to Hogwarts, she could now tell her mum stories, but this time they were real. Hermione just couldn't stand the thought that her mum would never tell or listen to a story ever again.
"Hermione, did I-" Malfoy began worriedly.
"I'm sorry, Malfoy," Hermione cut in. "I-I just can't talk right now."
Hermione instantly stood up and ran out of the Great Hall. She wanted to cry. She wanted to die. She knew her mum gave her a hard time now and then, but she loved her mum. She told her everything. She missed the hugs. She missed the fussing about her grades. She missed the way her mum use to brush her finger down Hermione's cheek and say, "Who's my future doctor?" Tears streamed down Hermione's cheeks.
"Dear me, Hermione," came Ron's pert voice. "You're make-up is running."
Hermione stopped and glanced up at the redheaded snob.
"I do believe there is something wrong with you," Ron announced. "Harry informed me of what happened between you two, and I have one thing to say. You've gone bonkers."
"Well, I have something so say to you," Hermione began. Then she outright screamed, "YOU ARE THE MOST SELF-ABSORBED BRAGGART I'VE EVER MET! I CAN'T STAND EVEN BEING AROUND YOU!"
"Well, well," Ron tutted, his hands on his hips. "I do believe someone is being rude. I can't abide rude people."
"AND I CAN'T ABIDE BLOCKHEADS LIKE YOU!" Hermione shouted.
With that, she pushed passed Ron and ran up the stairs. She couldn't go back to Slytherin common. She had to find place that was familiar. Anything. Bawling her eyes out, Hermione made her way to the portrait of the fat lady. Though she did not know the password, she needed to be near Gryffindor common. She sat herself down next to the portrait and cried into her arms.
"My dear, are you all right?" the fat lady asked.
Hermione didn't answer, just kept crying, her whole body quivering.
"I want to go home," Hermione whispered. "Oh, please God, I want to go home."
"Here, chicky chicky!"
Hermione instantly looked up as Dumbledore waddled down the corridor, chasing his invisible chickens. He saw her when he came near and gave her a kind smile.
"Minerva, you look forlorn there," Dumbledore said quietly, leaning on his cain.
"Yes, Professor," Hermione muttered, wiping a tear away.
Dumbledore groaned as he lowered himself to sit beside her. He smiled over at her.
"My dear," Dumbledore began, "I do believe I have a talent for knowing about people. There's something I can see in you."
Hermione looked up at his pale blue eyes, listening intently.
"You've got 20/20 eyes," Dumbledore told her.
"Yes, sir," Hermione lowered her head, disappointed.
"See what's going on," Dumbledore advised. "And don't drink the pumpkin juice."
Hermione stood up, yelling, "I just found out that my mum is dead! Both my best friends couldn't give a bezoar about me! I feel all alone, and I don't know how to get home! And all you, the greatest wizard, have to say to me is to not drink pumpkin juice?! In my world, your a great wizard. Here, I think you're nothing!"
Dumbledore used his cane to stand up, then said, "Now, isn't that your REAL problem?"
He shook his head at her, then walked off, saying, "Here, chicky, chicky."
Hermione covered her face with her hands. It was hopeless.
A/N: Sorry this chapter was so short.
A/N: Thanks everyone for reveiwing. I'd name you off as usual, but I'm sort of in a hurry and I'd have to go back to my email site to do that. Thanks still.
A Different You by Lina Shay
Chapter Six: Grieved
"Hermione...er...are you ok?" Malfoy asked, looking concerned.
Hermione placed a hand over her mouth as her mind raced. Her mother was dead? She knew this world was something unreal, but what if she couldn't get back? What if there was no way that she would ever see her mum again? Suddenly, Hermione remembered when her mother use to sit beside her in her bed and tell her all sorts of stories. She told stories of dragons and unicorns and wizards. Hermione used to think they were all just fairy tales. Then when Hermione started going to Hogwarts, she could now tell her mum stories, but this time they were real. Hermione just couldn't stand the thought that her mum would never tell or listen to a story ever again.
"Hermione, did I-" Malfoy began worriedly.
"I'm sorry, Malfoy," Hermione cut in. "I-I just can't talk right now."
Hermione instantly stood up and ran out of the Great Hall. She wanted to cry. She wanted to die. She knew her mum gave her a hard time now and then, but she loved her mum. She told her everything. She missed the hugs. She missed the fussing about her grades. She missed the way her mum use to brush her finger down Hermione's cheek and say, "Who's my future doctor?" Tears streamed down Hermione's cheeks.
"Dear me, Hermione," came Ron's pert voice. "You're make-up is running."
Hermione stopped and glanced up at the redheaded snob.
"I do believe there is something wrong with you," Ron announced. "Harry informed me of what happened between you two, and I have one thing to say. You've gone bonkers."
"Well, I have something so say to you," Hermione began. Then she outright screamed, "YOU ARE THE MOST SELF-ABSORBED BRAGGART I'VE EVER MET! I CAN'T STAND EVEN BEING AROUND YOU!"
"Well, well," Ron tutted, his hands on his hips. "I do believe someone is being rude. I can't abide rude people."
"AND I CAN'T ABIDE BLOCKHEADS LIKE YOU!" Hermione shouted.
With that, she pushed passed Ron and ran up the stairs. She couldn't go back to Slytherin common. She had to find place that was familiar. Anything. Bawling her eyes out, Hermione made her way to the portrait of the fat lady. Though she did not know the password, she needed to be near Gryffindor common. She sat herself down next to the portrait and cried into her arms.
"My dear, are you all right?" the fat lady asked.
Hermione didn't answer, just kept crying, her whole body quivering.
"I want to go home," Hermione whispered. "Oh, please God, I want to go home."
"Here, chicky chicky!"
Hermione instantly looked up as Dumbledore waddled down the corridor, chasing his invisible chickens. He saw her when he came near and gave her a kind smile.
"Minerva, you look forlorn there," Dumbledore said quietly, leaning on his cain.
"Yes, Professor," Hermione muttered, wiping a tear away.
Dumbledore groaned as he lowered himself to sit beside her. He smiled over at her.
"My dear," Dumbledore began, "I do believe I have a talent for knowing about people. There's something I can see in you."
Hermione looked up at his pale blue eyes, listening intently.
"You've got 20/20 eyes," Dumbledore told her.
"Yes, sir," Hermione lowered her head, disappointed.
"See what's going on," Dumbledore advised. "And don't drink the pumpkin juice."
Hermione stood up, yelling, "I just found out that my mum is dead! Both my best friends couldn't give a bezoar about me! I feel all alone, and I don't know how to get home! And all you, the greatest wizard, have to say to me is to not drink pumpkin juice?! In my world, your a great wizard. Here, I think you're nothing!"
Dumbledore used his cane to stand up, then said, "Now, isn't that your REAL problem?"
He shook his head at her, then walked off, saying, "Here, chicky, chicky."
Hermione covered her face with her hands. It was hopeless.
A/N: Sorry this chapter was so short.