Disclaimer:

This plot is mine. ALL MINE! MWAHAHAHA! cough cough
Unfortunately, the characters, places, etc. belong to J. K. Rowling.
Well... ponders something I made up the Granger's first names. Yay!
Something belongs to me! does a little jig

Chapter Three: Off to Hogwarts

Hermione sat staring out the window of her mother's car. She wasn't sure whether or not to be happy. I mean, yeah, she was finally getting away from her lunatic mother, but... Well, for one thing, what will her friends say about her new appearance? Her new, there was no other word she could think of for it, self? As much as she loves being alone, Hermione didn't want to spend the whole year by herself.

Her mother hadn't been happy this morning. Ann Granger had been upset that Hermione hadn't made her eggs this morning. Ironically enough, precisely a week earlier, Ann had clearly stated that if Hermione ever made her eggs again she would beat her black and blue with the frying pan. Of course, Hermione hadn't believed her mother, but she had steered clear of the eggs just to be on the safe side. Sometimes Hermione wondered how her mother's brain worked; but then she would just shrug it off to insanity.

Hermione sighed. They had arrived at the train station. She slowly got out of the car, tugging her skirt down a bit to make sure it covered everything. Ann had unlocked the trunk of the car, allowing Hermione to get her belongings out. Heaving everything as hard as she could, her things fell to the ground, clattering loudly.

"Goodbye, mum," Hermione said softly, looking carefully at the ground.

Ann just sniffed and said, "If you don't hurry you'll be late. Not that I care. I just don't want to be stuck with you any longer than I have to."

With that Hermione sighed deeply and picked her things up off of the ground. Lugging her school trunk behind her and her owl Mystik Snow in her cage under her arm, Hermione started off towards Platform 9 ¾.

When Hermione reached the platform she carefully made sure there were no muggles paying attention to her. Seeing that there weren't, she casually leaned against the barrier. Once on the platform, she dragged her items to the baggage claim. Leaving them there, she started looking around at who all was there already.

Seeing that Harry and Ron were yet to come, she shook her head and boarded the Hogwarts Express. Some things will never change.

It wasn't hard to find an empty compartment since most students had yet to board. She sat down silently and pulled out a diary. Or journal, if you'd rather. Pulling out a muggle writing device commonly known as a pen, Hermione prepared to write. But before she could something caught her eye. It was a poem she had written at the beginning of the summer. It was when she had first started feeling trapped.

Look at that panther on the prowl,
Roaming wild and free.
Oh! how I wish to be thee.
Instead I am locked in this cage.
I wish I was free now.
This cage is so lonely,
And people are gawking.
And can you hear their whispers?
Their whispers are about me.
It is not only paranoia.
See them stare?
How rude of them to stare,
At a poor beast in a cage.
Everything I do is analyzed.
Everything I say is sneered at.
Why do they think they are so better?
Why do they keep me in this cage?
Oh! this wretched cage.
It squashes my will to live.
If only I were wild and free.

Hermione sighed. This poem may not be one of her better ones, but it described so much of what she was feeling. So much of what she still feels. Again, she was about to write, not knowing what, when the compartment door opened. In walked Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley.

Harry's black hair is still as unruly as ever, his emerald eyes just as piercing, but he no longer looked sickly. He was filled out more, thanks much to quidditch practice and duel training. Yes, Harry was in training for the defeat of Voldemort. The Order thinks the war will strike soon. Harry stood at a tall 6 feet.

Which would, of course, make Ron 6'4. Ron was as gangly as ever, only a bit more muscular since he became keeper for the Gryffindor quidditch team in 5th year. He still had the flaming Weasley hair, and a temper to match.

Both boys were, undeniably, quite cute. Some would even go as far as to say that they were hot. But Hermione can do a complete 180 in her personality and she still would never consider them more than just friends. Best friends, yes, but friends nonetheless.

"Hi. Erm... I'm Ron. And you are?" Ron asked Hermione with a puzzled look on his face.

"Ha ha ha! Hmm... I dunno. Maybe you should guess," Hermione stated with a smirk, yes a smirk, on her face.

"Oh my God! Hermione? Is that you?" Harry exclaimed, cottoning on. "You look... wow... you look... different! I mean, you look great! I'm just surprised is all," sputtered Harry.

"Wait. What?" asked a very confused looking Ron, his freckle faced forehead creased in confusion.

"Gee thanks, Harry. Only, I thought you'd go mooning over me," Hermione said sarcastically.

"What did I miss here?" asked the boy who was red all over. ( Meaning his hair, ears, neck, face, etc.)

"Sorry Mione," a sheepish Harry muttered as he ducked his head and scuffed his shoe on the floor, a grin plastered across his face. "You just surprised me, is all. I didn't mean anything by it."

"That's all right Harry. I was only kidding," replied a laughing Hermione.

"Will somebody bloody explain what the bloody hell is going on and what I bloody missed?" a now hyperventilating Ron asked, er... screamed, at his two best friends.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. Then they looked at Ron. Then they looked at each other. Then they looked at Ron. Then they looked at each other again. And much to poor Ron's dismay... they burst out into hysterical laughter!

"What? You don't know your best friend when you see her?" Hermione teased him.

Ron's face scrunched up as he visibly tried to understand what the 'bloody hell' was going on. Then all of a sudden, a light bulb appeared above his head with a ding! and his mouth formed a round 0 shape.

"'Mione?" he asked in shock as his eyes surveyed her 'new self'.

"Nah. I'm the president of the United States," Hermione shot back fallaciously.

"The where?" Ron asked, confused... yet again.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione said, "Never mind. Don't hurt yourself."

The threesome hugged, exchanged greetings, and sat down to talk about their summers. When asked about hers Hermione just muttered something about it 'being educational' and changed the topic.

The snack witch came by and Harry, the only one with money, bought enough for the three of them. Hermione wasn't very hungry, though. It seems after being starved for two months your stomach tends to shrink. She only ate a couple of Bertie Bott's every flavor beans (luckilly she managed to steer clear of the earwax flavored ones), two chocolate frogs, and one pumpkin pastry.

Friends of the trio's started drifting in and out of their compartment. Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Neville, Lavendar, Parvati, Padma, Hannah, Justin, Luna, etc. They all had pretty similar reactions to Hermione's new look. 'Wow! Is that you 'Mione?' was the most common. Then some not-so-welcome people decided to drop by. Uninvited, of course.

Draco Malfoy and his two bodyguards, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, decided to pay their annual visit. At the time, the occupants of the compartment were Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Ginny, and Dean. Upon entering, Malfoy didn't recognize or notice Hermione at first. She had been sitting quietly in the corner, not wanting her friend's attention diverted to her again.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" came his familiar drawl. "The Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-A-Pain-In-My-Ass, his tag-a-long sidekick Weasel, the weaselette, Loony Lovegood, the sorry excuse for a wizard, and the kid who follows them around. Where's your mudblood bitch, Potty? Did even she get sick of you? That's a shame. Really it is," Malfoy said tauntingly.

He was very toned with just the right amount of muscle. His whitish blond hair fell into his eyes a bit. His trademark smirk was gracing his handsome features and he stood a good 6'3, maybe 6'4. The only thing that prevented him from being drop-dead gorgeous in Hermione's opinion, besides the fact that he was Malfoy the insufferable git, was that his eyes were like ice. No. Scratch that. They were ice. His piercing gaze could chill your very soul.

"You know, that line is getting kinda old, dontcha think?" Hermione said with false thoughtfulness. "I mean, you'd think a 'Great Malfoy' (said in a mocking voice) would be able to come up with some new material, wouldn't you?" she asked mockingly. She had put a false concerned look on her face and frowned as if in deep concentration. She placed a finger on her lip and cocked her head to the side to complete the picture.

Everyone froze. Harry and Dean were holding Ron back from pounding Malfoy while Luna and Neville held Ginny back from clawing him. Everyone slowly turned to look at Hermione, their mouths dropping open.

Malfoy fought the urge to let his mouth drop as well. He quickly composed himself. Then, he opened his mouth and said "Granger?" the shock evident on his icily handsome face.

A/N:

Okay my faithful readers! Please do me a BIG favor and update. Please? gets down on knees, holding clasped hands out toward you See? I'm begging! REVIEW!

A/N2:

By the way, the poem is an original by me. It's title is "Wild and Free."