Okay. No one has reviewed my story yet. So I'm gonna go ahead and type up chapter 2 all nice and purty for you, you demanding bastards. And another thing: I mean no offense to anyone by using the word Brit. So please accept my apologies if I've offended you, and stop declaring 'football' games to the fact that MugglePenguinLord sux teh arse. Here we go.

Chapter 2- On Da Platform Dat Be One Fourth Less Than Ten

As Andrew flew toward the wall, many things flashed through his mind. His life was not one of them. So he crammed his eyes shut, preparing for death. And prepared. And prepared. And prepared some more. But Death wouldn't come, the bastard! Suddenly, Andrew felt a strage force wash over him, like walking through a wall of water. Then he landed on concrete with a soft, featherlike...bam! "ARRGH!" Andrew bellowed through clenched teeth, "GLUTES. IN. PAAAAAAIN!" This yelling of one's butt being in pain brought a lot of unwanted attention to our friend. So, when Andrew finally got up after whimpering for a while, there were many people in pointy hats and odd clothes staring at him. Andrew put on a nasty look and snarled, "What're you looking at, you freakin' weirdos?" And so, convinced that this was just another pain-in-the-ass teenager, the group of pointy-hatted, cloak-wearing citizens diminished leaving behind a lone girl.

She looked and sounded sincere, leaning down and offering a hand to Andrew, saying "Are you alright? Don't worry, something like this happens to most people during their first trip through the barrier." She gave a small smile and pulled Andrew up. Andrew rubbed his head (and his rear) then took a look around. Apparently, much had happened during the few seconds in which Log-Man had hurled him towards the brick wall. The station was packed with people dressed in the freaking strangest assortment of outergarments Andrew had ever seen. Pointy hats, cloaks, robes, peacock-feathered visors...it made Mardi-Gras look like a presidential ball. A grin washed over Andrew's face. "HA! Loggy must be as smart as he looks, he threw me in the wrong dir-" but Andrew became speechless at that moment, for it was the moment he had stopped staring around the train station and laid eyes on the girl who had helped him up.

There was no other way to describe her. Well there probably was, but Andrew wasn't one to read a dictionary often. Beautiful. She had long, bushy brown hair that was actually quite shiny. Her eyes were a deep, deep

NOTE- What color are Hermione's eyes again? I'll just say blue for now.

a deep, deep blue, flecked with lighter shades. She wasn't wearing makeup, although she really didn't need it. Her face was a creamy, milky peach color, and looked to be about as soft as peaches. The smile she still had from moments ago turned Andrew's innards to goo. Or pudding. And, Andrew noticed as he looked down, there were also a few other things that made her attractive. The girl's smile faltered, and she got a worried look on her face. "Are you alright?" She questioned him, "You don't look well." Andrew gaped at her, trying to speak, but no speakyness would come out of his lovestruck mouth. So he just nodded.

The girl spoke again, "Oh dear...it looks like you landed on your..." she attempted to suppress a giggle at this point, "...on your backside..." she rasped, her voice trying not to be full of humiliating laughter. Andrew was vaguely aware at this point that his hands were still clamped tightly over his butt. Andrew felt head rising in his cheeks. The ones on his face, that is. 'Um...yeah...this big log shaped kid tried to throw me at a wall but he kinda missed..." His voice trailed off as he watched the girl walk behind him. "Oh, that must have been Crabbe or Goyle. They're generally assholes to everyone," she said. "I was right, it looks like you damaged one of your muscles down there. Don't worry, I can fix it." Panic swept over Andrew after hearing this. "Uh, excuse me? You're going to fix my ass?" "Don't worry, it won't hurt or anything." the girl responed as she pulled a long skinny stick out of her pocket. Andrew did not like where this was going. The girl said to him, "And by the way, my name's Hermione Granger."

Andrew's eyes screwed up as he backed away from her. "Well Hermione," Andrew replied, shaking and backing away, "I'm Andrew Ranther, and, uh, it was nice meeting you but it, uh... looks-like-my-train-is-leaving-and-I-gotta-go-BYE!" At this point, Andrew was thinking TO HELL WITH LOVE, THIS GIRL'S CRAZY! as he took off running. Hermione, as her name was, gave chase for a few yards then shouted some incoherent babble. Andrew turned his head just in time to see a swirling purple beam of light rushing towards him. Moments later, it struck him right where the sun don't shine. It didn't hurt him, but it made his ass feel fuzzy. And let me tell you, having a fuzzy ass is one of the most screwed up things you can ever feel. He slowed down momentarily to look for something soft. As there was nothing, he fell over unconscious where he stood.

FIN! Okay, reviews now please, or face the wrath of a fuzzy ass!