Chapter 4-A Boring Morning
Sorry for not updating!
Disclaimer: Don't own it.
After brushing her hair, she plopped down on her bed and picked up Crookshanks, and pet him on the head. He purred contently. Hermione put him down and pulled back the covers of her bed. Subconsciously, she knew something was askew with their relationship, but like a stubborn pimple, it wasn't going to surface for a while. But when it did, it'd be ugly, hard to get rid of, and ruin one's day.
After a restless night, Her
mione awoke to the annoying beep of her alarm clock. Ugh, nine o'clock. Swell, it's too early. Oh yea, I have to go to school today! Yes! She thought. The Hogwarts train left at eleven and Hermione was slow at getting ready. In addition, the Grangers lived quite a distance from King's Cross, and driving through the morning traffic was a laborious business.
Now you might think to yourself "Why doesn't Hermione just apparate to King's Cross?" Well I'll tell you, like all mothers, Mrs. Granger wanted to see her little girl off to her last year of school, and wasn't going to give it up no matter how hard Hermione tried to shake her off.
Now, as usual Hermione had left packing her luggage until the last minute (a very un-Hermione like thing to do mind you). Damn it, I didn't pack my bags! Frantically, she jumped out of bed and began to rifle through her closet and tallboy, whipping out her neatly folded clothing and hung up robes.
She paused in the middle of her room, and thought. 'Oh jeez, I could have done this by magic. I keep forgetting I'm of age.' She magicked the rest of her belongings into her trunk and levitated it to her bedroom door.
Remembering that seventh years were exempt from the usual dress code on the first day of the term, and every Friday subsequently. Still half awake, she plopped down on her bed and tried to pick and outfit.
Where's Rita when I need her? Hermione groaned. Normally, Hermione just picked out boring outfits as Rita called them. Rolling over, Hermione fell asleep.
Hermione jolted awake after about 10 minutes of sleeping. Disorientated, she made a mad dash to get dressed. Within moments she was wearing a white cami and jean capris. Hermione grabbed a necklace with a glittery diamond hanging delicately from it (Ron gave it to her for their 3 month anniversary) and clasped it around her neck. She went to the bathroom to straighten her unruly hair. After that she grabbed her wand and purse, and enchanted her luggage and Crookshanks to float down the stairs. Halfway down the hall, she remembered she needed shoes. With the luggage still hovering on it own accord, Hermione dashed back to her bedroom and grabbed some flip-flops. Something smelled like it was burning.
Rita had walked into the bathroom and knocked over the straightening iron that Hermione had left on. Currently, the Grangers no longer had a shower curtain, and Rita was trying to put out the fire that started to consume the rug. Hermione has shrieked and put out the fire.
Both Mr. and Mrs. Granger had come out of their bedroom, hair tussled and their pyjamas looked as if they had been hastily put on.
'We're going to change so we can bring Hermione to the train station.' sighed Mrs. Granger. Knowing that there was nothing that she could do to make the girls stop fighting, she dragged Edwin back into the bedroom and ordered him to change.
'Hey, can I come with you to King's Cross?' asked Rita.
'Sure, I don't see why not.' Hermione sighed.
After wasting almost twenty minutes on the stairs, Rita trudged back upstairs, while Hermione, Crookshanks and the luggage descended down. Hermione 'set' her luggage down by the front door and proceed to the kitchen with Crookshanks following.
When she entered, the first thing that came to mind was breakfast; then she gasped in horror. It was nearly nine thirty and nobody was dressed, let alone ready for breakfast.
'EVERYBODY GET DOWN HERE!' screamed Hermione, as she realized that it took forty five minutes to get to the station. Mrs. Granger was coming down the stairs, as was Mr. Granger.
'Bout time, it's almost ten o'clock and I need to be at Platform 9 ¾ half an hour early to help first years find the platform and train all right.' Hermione grumbled.
'Oh honey don't worry we'll get there on time, after all it's only nine thirty. If we hurry we can make it at ten thirty. That means that you'll have to speed Edwin. Fifteen minutes for breakfast then.' Mrs. Granger said as she began to bustle with frying pans and skillets.
'Don't be ridiculous mum; we don't have time for that. I'll eat on the train.' Hermione exclaimed.
Rita came down the stairs, and slipped on some flip flops. 'I'm ready!' she exclaimed.
Making a mad dash, Mr. Granger hoisted up Hermione's trunk and opened the front door. Rita and Mrs. Granger opened the trunk and Mr. Granger put the luggage placed it in there, and slammed the trunk door. Rita and Hermione piled into the back of their black BMW; and the adults climbed into the front with Mr. Granger at the wheel. Mr. Granger, finally pleased that he was allowed to speed, pushed down on the gas pedal and the sleek car sped away.
Draco Malfoy, (after waking at nine thirty to do his hair and get dressed), strutted down the grand spiral stairs in his manor at about ten o'clock and entered the dining room. Sitting at the dining table already was Mrs. Malfoy.
'Draco, darling eat some breakfast, your letter we need to be at King's Cross at ten thirty. Supposedly you are to wait at Platform 9 ¾ and help the first years get situated.' remarked Narcissia.
'We?' Draco raised a golden eyebrow.
'Yes Draco, we. This is my last time to see my little Drakey-Poo off to school. We'll be apparating of course.' Mrs. Malfoy looked up from her lobster and crab omelette.
'Fine mother, I guess there's nothing I can do to stop you,' he sighed. 'And please don't call me Drakey-Poo in front of my friends.'
Mrs. Malfoy waved her fork (and a bit of omelette flew off onto the carpet, where a house elf dashed to clean it up).
Draco smoothed out his black shirt and sat down to the table. The house elves quickly dashed to bring him his usual breakfast of eggs and bacon. His mother looked at his choice of apparel. Jeans and a polo, a muggle outfit no doubt. Well as long as my baby boy looks good it's fine with me. Sipping her latte, she glance back down to her magazine and proceeded to finish the article from Vogue (Witch's Edition) that was debating whether the botox really works.
Fifteen minutes later, Draco and his mother were preparing to leave. Mrs. Malfoy shrunk Draco's belongings, and they apparated away.
I'm back! Finals are almost over and I have more time to write. Unfortunately I'm taking some classes over the summer (aka physics), but I'll still write!