In an Entry Way Window -
Lightning flashed, illuminating a small street, completely deserted but the occupants of the small neighborhood could be seen standing by their windows or bustling in their kitchens or tucked into their beds.
Further on along the streets was Privet Drive another neighborhood lay in the quilt of suburbia. In Privet Drive it was the same scene, with nobody outside of their houses making the streets look alive. Indeed, if it weren't for the rain, it would have appeared to be a ghost town.
Further down the English land was a small house, it twisted and turned, looking as if it were to collapse at any moment. To any that knew its occupants, it was called the Burrow and the family inside was one of prominent stature.
As the sky poured its heart and soul into sending waters to the lands, a small body was curled in the window of a townhouse in a small town, sipping cocoa long gone cold and staring at the rain, mesmerized.
Despite the cold cocoa, the pouring rain, the long distances, the complete culture shock the last year had brought to her young, teenage life, something there seemed right, there was a small beacon of hope. It was the same beacon that He had always brought with Him when she thought of Him.
It had been a few short weeks since Hermione Granger had left Hogwarts, her fifth year, and already she felt as if she had long since graduated and turned old. Maybe she was not physically old but mentally old.
Of course, she had always been intellectually old, as some put it, but for her to feel like an ancient person inside of a teenage body was almost unheard of. She really felt as if she were, well, she hated to admit it, but she felt as old as she thought Dumbledore looked.
Mahogany hair hung in her face slightly, not quite as bushy, but nowhere near the tame she had once wished it would be. As she watched the rain, she was caught between wanting it to stop and wanting to run out into it and just stand there, letting it soak into her skin.
Hermione closed her eyes for a minute, trying to remember a time when she had been what someone would consider innocent. Probably the only time that she could even remember now worrying about death was before Hogwarts, before . . .
Before Harry and Ron. Harry Potter. Ron Weasley.
There had been a time when she thought that she may have fallen for Ron, but any thoughts of the kind had been shattered since her life took a nosedive. Ever since her father had gotten sick, everything else had taken a back seat in her life.
Hermione sighed once more of her many times. It seemed that she couldn't live a day without sighing at least once. Her life centered on routines such as sighing.
It was funny, her life that is. For as long as she could remember, she had dreamed of something amazing, one thing about her that would immediately set her apart from millions of other people that walked the same earth as her, but once it came, she was no longer sure if she wanted it, because everything happened so fast.
Why did magic have to come with sacrifice and death? Why couldn't her life be fully of sugar fairies and happiness dripping from every corner? There wasn't even anything in her life that she really felt she could trust.
Sure, magic had it's rules, there were always books, but her life had expanded to so much more than books. It was so different now, and she didn't know whether she was able to handle it or not.
Hermione's thoughts slowly turned back to Draco. Draco Malfoy, the last person on earth that she would have imagined herself having feelings toward, but here she was, not imagining it.
When she had broke the news to her mother, she thought she had killed her for a minute, because all her mother did was stare, blankly, at the wall for at least five minutes before speaking, and Hermione was left to stand, awkwardly, waiting for her mother to speak and voice her opinion.
It hadn't been the opinion she had wanted, either, but it had been the one she was expecting. Her mother had thought that either something had happened to her daughter this last year at Hogwarts magically, or there was something wrong with her emotionally. This small bit of news had triggered hours of conversation and argument over whether she was using this as a way to call out for attention and tell people that cared about her that there was something wrong in her life or if she truly loved him. Her mother thought the aforementioned, and Hermione believed in the latter.
This shouldn't have been the conversation they were absorbed in, either. This was one of those times when striking a stronger and more fortified mother-daughter bond could be priceless. Her father was gone, evil was surely not completely ready to be put to rest at the moment and Hermione was slowly losing everything that she had once been so sure of.
Her mind swimming with possibilities of simple tasks all the way up to the supreme task of "saving the bloody world" as Draco had put it once never let her have a spare moment of time to herself.
There were so many things to consider, so many paths that could be taken, and she hadn't had any contact with Draco since they left Hogwarts a few weeks ago. She didn't really think it would be a good idea anyway. They had already planned that halfway through the summer they would meet, secretly of course, and talk about whatever was imminent at that time.
With the new knowledge (from the Prophet) that Voldemort was more powerful that ever, a new evil entity seemed to be rising and crimes were up 67% in the wizarding community Hermione was sure there would be much to talk about.
~*~
Thankie thankie to all that reviewed the first chapter! I was surprised with how many people reviewed it!
Alright, these first two chapters were shorter, they were just to sum up what each of them was feeling. From the next chapter on (unless I change my mind, which may happen) they will be "full length" chapters, more like the last story if not longer.
Read and Review!
Actually, "Review!" because by the time you're here, you've already read.
--Saquoia--
Lightning flashed, illuminating a small street, completely deserted but the occupants of the small neighborhood could be seen standing by their windows or bustling in their kitchens or tucked into their beds.
Further on along the streets was Privet Drive another neighborhood lay in the quilt of suburbia. In Privet Drive it was the same scene, with nobody outside of their houses making the streets look alive. Indeed, if it weren't for the rain, it would have appeared to be a ghost town.
Further down the English land was a small house, it twisted and turned, looking as if it were to collapse at any moment. To any that knew its occupants, it was called the Burrow and the family inside was one of prominent stature.
As the sky poured its heart and soul into sending waters to the lands, a small body was curled in the window of a townhouse in a small town, sipping cocoa long gone cold and staring at the rain, mesmerized.
Despite the cold cocoa, the pouring rain, the long distances, the complete culture shock the last year had brought to her young, teenage life, something there seemed right, there was a small beacon of hope. It was the same beacon that He had always brought with Him when she thought of Him.
It had been a few short weeks since Hermione Granger had left Hogwarts, her fifth year, and already she felt as if she had long since graduated and turned old. Maybe she was not physically old but mentally old.
Of course, she had always been intellectually old, as some put it, but for her to feel like an ancient person inside of a teenage body was almost unheard of. She really felt as if she were, well, she hated to admit it, but she felt as old as she thought Dumbledore looked.
Mahogany hair hung in her face slightly, not quite as bushy, but nowhere near the tame she had once wished it would be. As she watched the rain, she was caught between wanting it to stop and wanting to run out into it and just stand there, letting it soak into her skin.
Hermione closed her eyes for a minute, trying to remember a time when she had been what someone would consider innocent. Probably the only time that she could even remember now worrying about death was before Hogwarts, before . . .
Before Harry and Ron. Harry Potter. Ron Weasley.
There had been a time when she thought that she may have fallen for Ron, but any thoughts of the kind had been shattered since her life took a nosedive. Ever since her father had gotten sick, everything else had taken a back seat in her life.
Hermione sighed once more of her many times. It seemed that she couldn't live a day without sighing at least once. Her life centered on routines such as sighing.
It was funny, her life that is. For as long as she could remember, she had dreamed of something amazing, one thing about her that would immediately set her apart from millions of other people that walked the same earth as her, but once it came, she was no longer sure if she wanted it, because everything happened so fast.
Why did magic have to come with sacrifice and death? Why couldn't her life be fully of sugar fairies and happiness dripping from every corner? There wasn't even anything in her life that she really felt she could trust.
Sure, magic had it's rules, there were always books, but her life had expanded to so much more than books. It was so different now, and she didn't know whether she was able to handle it or not.
Hermione's thoughts slowly turned back to Draco. Draco Malfoy, the last person on earth that she would have imagined herself having feelings toward, but here she was, not imagining it.
When she had broke the news to her mother, she thought she had killed her for a minute, because all her mother did was stare, blankly, at the wall for at least five minutes before speaking, and Hermione was left to stand, awkwardly, waiting for her mother to speak and voice her opinion.
It hadn't been the opinion she had wanted, either, but it had been the one she was expecting. Her mother had thought that either something had happened to her daughter this last year at Hogwarts magically, or there was something wrong with her emotionally. This small bit of news had triggered hours of conversation and argument over whether she was using this as a way to call out for attention and tell people that cared about her that there was something wrong in her life or if she truly loved him. Her mother thought the aforementioned, and Hermione believed in the latter.
This shouldn't have been the conversation they were absorbed in, either. This was one of those times when striking a stronger and more fortified mother-daughter bond could be priceless. Her father was gone, evil was surely not completely ready to be put to rest at the moment and Hermione was slowly losing everything that she had once been so sure of.
Her mind swimming with possibilities of simple tasks all the way up to the supreme task of "saving the bloody world" as Draco had put it once never let her have a spare moment of time to herself.
There were so many things to consider, so many paths that could be taken, and she hadn't had any contact with Draco since they left Hogwarts a few weeks ago. She didn't really think it would be a good idea anyway. They had already planned that halfway through the summer they would meet, secretly of course, and talk about whatever was imminent at that time.
With the new knowledge (from the Prophet) that Voldemort was more powerful that ever, a new evil entity seemed to be rising and crimes were up 67% in the wizarding community Hermione was sure there would be much to talk about.
~*~
Thankie thankie to all that reviewed the first chapter! I was surprised with how many people reviewed it!
Alright, these first two chapters were shorter, they were just to sum up what each of them was feeling. From the next chapter on (unless I change my mind, which may happen) they will be "full length" chapters, more like the last story if not longer.
Read and Review!
Actually, "Review!" because by the time you're here, you've already read.
--Saquoia--