Crookshanks was sprawled out on his back, paws in the air, upon an elegantly sewn comforter, made of pure white cotton, delicately decorated in lacy pink floral patterns. The room the fluffy ginger cat resided in at the moment was one of organization and precision, beauty and innocence; the sun poured through open windows, bathing the white walls with its warm, summer hues, as the long, pink netted drapes swayed softly in the morning's breeze.
The room's door swung open, and in walked a rather frazzled looking Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Extraordinaire, in a fluffy pink towel, with long brown hair cascading down her back in a heap of curls, glistening with water droplets.
Damn it. She had been enjoying a rather peaceful bath, when, out of no where, an owl, who seemed to be suffering from a severe case of ADHD, flew through the bathroom window, and straight into the tub with her, sending massive amounts of warm, perfumed water over the bath's marbled edge, and out onto the tiled floor below. She had shrieked and jumped out the bathtub, not realizing that the floor would be slippery, and went skidding across the loo and into a wall with a resounding thump.
Hermione walked over to her bed, not noticing a sleeping Crookshanks, and flopped down onto her ginger cat. The offended animal sprang up from beneath its master, hissing loudly.
"Oh, Crookshanks! I'm so sorry!" The ginger cat jumped off the bed, and with his tail in the air, walked out of the room just as a gray tennis ball came sailing through, and straight into Hermione's forehead, knocking her clear off her bed and onto the floor.
The owl hooted in delight at the fact that it had, yet again, successfully delivered another letter. Hermione's head popped up from over the edge of the bed and glared at the stupid bird.
"I was hoping you drowned." Hermione growled. The owl hooted again and stuck out his soggy leg in hopes of being relieved of his burden.
Hermione untied the letter, telling the owl to stay put, and took it over to her desk, where she carefully peeled it open, not wanting to shred the mushy paper to pieces. Black ink bled down the parchment, and onto her hands. The messy scrawl was rapidly blending together, so she hurriedly read the letter as fast as she could.
Hello Hermione!
How's your summer been? Great I hope! Well, sorry for not writing to you sooner, see, Errol died a few weeks ago, so mum and dad have been using Pig. Well, writing to tell you that we're picking Harry up tomorrow and going to Diagon Alley, so, if you want to meet us there, then we'll see you at the Leaky Cauldron around 11! Hope to see you then!
Ron
P.S. Fred and George thought it would be funny to add a cup of sugar to Pig's water bowl, so now he's really 'bouncing off the walls.' Sorry!
Hermione nodded her head at the last part of the letter and looked over to her bed, where the Ritalin owl should have been standing, but the little bugger was no where to be seen. She got up and looked around frantically, and then heard and excited hoot from somewhere above her head, she looked up, and there was Pig, hanging upside down from her ceiling fan.
"What the hell?" Hermione whispered to herself. It took her about ten minutes to finally get the hyper owl down, having to throw a sock at him, causing him to let go and hit the floor with a thud.
'You'd think this bloody owl didn't know how to fly!' thought Hermione. She quickly wrote a letter back to Ron, telling him that she wouldn't be able to go with them tomorrow and that her owl was a pervert, and attached it to the bird with the ants in his pants.
Hermione stepped out of her house, later that same day. Her curly hair had been pulled lazily into a loose ponytail with pink ribbon. She was wearing light make-up, a tight white wife beater, khaki DICKIES slung low on her hips, held up by a studded belt and black AUDIOS. A few inches of her flat stomach was visible, showing off her richly tanned skin.
Hermione sauntered down the driveway of her family's beautiful two story home, and out onto the sidewalk, where she kept walking until she passed the second house on her left and jogged up the driveway of a lavishly decorated house and knocked. She waited for a few minutes, and then the door opened, revealing a beautiful girl, around the same age as Hermione, with long blond hair, black eye-liner and piercings.
"So Pansy, are you ready to go to Diagon Alley?" asked Hermione.
"Ya, let me just get my purse."
AN: tell me if this story is even worth continuing!