Okay, something I found a bit odd, but when I published the last chapter, I noticed that for some reason, some of my words were actually missing and that was rather confusing. When I finished the document, I check my word count and Google Docs told me that my story came up to exactly 4500 words, which I was actually aiming for, so yea, but for some reason, when I put the document on Fanfiction, it said that the document was 4496 words, which I found weird. I know it's like four words, so it's not the end of the world, but still.
ALSO, I was wondering if any of you are writers on this site and use page breaks. I insert horizontal lines in my documents, but they don't show up in my finished copy for some reason. Buuuutttt…. Back to the book, this is Chapter 8.
The Granger house was in an uproar, and Hermione Granger was in stitches as she watched her mother and father scream at the top of their lungs at each other.
"KILL IT!"
"CALM DOWN!"
"DON'T YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH! KILL IT!"
"WHY DO I HAVE TO KILL IT, YOU COW?!"
"YOU'RE THE MAN!"
It was a spider, a tiny spider, and they were both about to lose their minds. Harry and Neville stood in the doorway as her parents stood in the middle of the room, her mother screaming a rather concerning number of explicatives every time the spider moved at all. It wasn't even as large as a dime, but they were acting as if it were holding them at gunpoint. Deciding that enough was enough, she grabbed a sheet of paper, making her way over to the corner the small creature that sat there, likely terrified by it's shoe wielding hosts. Coaxing the small creature onto the paper, she walked over to the front door, half tempted to throw it on them, but restraining herself as she led it outside and deposited it in a bush.
When she came back, they acted as if nothing happened, going about their separate ways, getting ready for work as Harry and Neville shook their heads. The three of them made their way towards the stairs, Harry playfully mocking Josephine's comical reaction to such a small creature, cowering in the corner.
"So, Diagon Alley?" Harry looked down at something he definitely dreaded. Despite the fact that he had discovered many new things about Hermione, like her desire to get a tattoo, her "hidden" collection of trashy romance novels, and her penchant for climbing trees, as well as an irrational fear of ducks, some things remained the same. For instance, her need to have control of everything. In her hand, was her method of said control, the weekly planner. Since the death of Augusta Longbottom, she had planned their days so full, he was often exhausted by the time they made it back home. He understood her need to keep Neville occupied, but he was actually fine during the day. It was at night when he had problems. He wouldn't sleep, he wouldn't talk, and the only person that seemed to get through to him was Mr. Granger. Looking down at the planner, however, he was surprised to find only one task written for the day. "We're taking the Knight Bus again?"
Hermione nodded as she pushed a stray lock of hair out of her face, scratching the exposed skin of her stomach. "We need to get books on apparation training for Neville, then we can really enjoy ourselves. I've never been to Diagon just to simply run a few errands and enjoy an afternoon, and it's a crying shame." The two Gryffindor males looked at one another, rolling their eyes. They loved her dearly, but Hermione needed female friends, and she needed them soon. Harry's mind wandered as he tried to compile a list of girls who Hermione hadn't managed to agitate endlessly with a seemingly limitless supply of facts, lectures on the rules, and all in all things that were simply Hermione.
"I'm actually going to miss this place," Neville said, his eyes scanning Hermione's wall, resting on her "fairy lights" that stood out against her black walls. It was odd, seeing such a dark color surrounding one who was so full of life, but it was fitting. Even though they were surrounded by a color that reminded them much of death, he never felt gloomy, looking at her numerous pictures, one catching his eye. He thought it was hermione for a minute, but closer inspection told him that it was Jocasta, seemingly pruning her garden, something he remembered that she took up after her beloved Henry died. Henry Dimitriou was a kind man, and he never understood how people so lovely and filled with zest would birth a monster like Stavros Dimitriou and love him as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. It was like Molly and Arthur Weasley giving birth to Lucius Malfoy, it was absolutely ridiculous.
It was their last day in the Granger home, as the next day, they would be rising early and heading off to the Ministry to take an international portkey to Rhodes, Greece. Hermione's parents wouldn't arrive until later, opting for muggle transportation, and the three teenagers would be left in the custody of Jocasta Dimitriou, who Harry was elated to meet. From what Neville remembered the last time he'd seen her, she'd gone a bit loopy, what with the death of her husband, son, and beloved daughter-in-law, though if Neville was completely honest, she was a bit of a cow. Then, to top it off, her precious Adad had been taken away. She'd suffered a nervous breakdown and ended up in the custody of the psychiatric wing of St. Ignatios, which was pretty much St. Mungos with much better uniforms. "Alright boys, lets get dressed, get some breakfast in us, and then we can get our lazy bottoms right on to Diagon Alley. Ron said he and Ginny will meet us at Fred and George's shop, so we'd best get on with it." The two of them nodded, each heading off to their respective rooms to prepare for the day.
…
"You're going to Diagon Alley wearing that?" Hermione seemed to seriously underestimate the appeal she now had to men, and if Neville's blush was any indicator, it was quite a bit. Though there was nothing inherently wrong with her clothing, she wasn't just going for a stroll in the Muggle world, she was venturing into the wizard world, the very conservative wizard world, where such things were not acceptable for a young lady.
She looked down at her clothes, a frown coming to her face. She wore a sensible pair of shorts, ones she picked especially because they made her legs look wonderful, accompanied by a white shirt she'd tucked in. Her hair was a bit too long and she'd wanted to get it cut, but despite all her maturity, her mum still scheduled all of her hair appointments. It was straightened, falling to her hips, a light fedora on to keep the light out of her eyes, accompanied by her mother's fashion spectacles, with blue tinted frames. One her feet, she had a nice pair of chunky heels, four inches tall. She hadn't seen anything wrong with it. Neville cleared his throat, gathering her attention before she could demand to know exactly what was wrong with her choice of clothing.
"Hermione," he started slowly, knowing from many years of friendship that if he didn't carefully choose his next few words, he just might end up on the receiving end of the back of her hand, which was not favorable or worse yet, the end of her wand. "What Harry means is, people in the wizard world are much more conservative than here in the Muggle world, even with your new overcoat, they'll make you feel very uncomfortable. Ah!" He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. "We know that it's stupid and you can wear whatever you like, it's none of their business, but you said that you wanted a relaxed last day, we don't need you jabbing some old man's eyeball out in the middle of Diagon Alley." He watched as a myriad of emotions passed across her face, probably all a result of her trying to find an argument, but in the end, she had none and he smiled in victory once she turned and made her way towards the stairs as Harry turned back to the breakfast he was preparing.
"Alright, do we have everything we need?" Harry nodded and Neville looked uncertain. Hermione had done nothing but change out her bottoms for a nice pair of khaki pants, but all in all, it was a step and not worth an argument. Grabbing her wand, she stuck it out, the sound of tires squealing catching each of their ears as the Knight Bus hit the corner at absolutely dangerous speeds, nearly ramming into the Grangers' mailbox, which would have likely made Josephine take serious measures to figure out how to flag the Knight Bus herself and demand he pay for it in pounds or his own blood. The woman was seriously frightening.
Neville's first ride on the Knight bus was the worst thing he had ever done and he made Hermione promise that the next time, they would take the double decker bus through muggle london so his heart wouldn't have to go through the trauma again. She'd simply shaken her head, leading the both of them on as she led the way to Flourish and Botts.
...
They didn't know how it came to be, but a crowd gathered in the doorway of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, where a very heated and whispered argument was going on between Pansy Parkinson and Hermione Granger, having started on who was to go in the door first. It was a childish argument to say the least, and the panel of boys had actually stopped glaring at one another, each seeming annoyed with their female companions.
"You are the rudest person I've ever had the inconvenience of-"
"You should recognize your superiors, you common-"
"When someone holds the door open for you, you should thank them, not shove them out of the way! I have half a mind to deck you in your stupid face, you-"
"Name calling, that's real mature, Grang-"
"Oh, that's rich, coming from an overgrown toddler with-"
"LADIES!" The two of them looked up, eyes narrowed at their intruder, who just so happened to be Mr. Fortescue himself. Clearing his throat, he carefully stepped in between the two of them, his hand clutching the door and pushing it open. "Please, enter," he said, not appreciating the curious eyes that scanned the two groups. Pansy shoved the former brunette out of the way, entering the shop with her nose held high, the older shopkeeper placing a hand in front of the former, stopping her just as she leaped out to snatch the short haired Slytherin right out of her shoes. Harry entered first, pulling her behind him with Neville coming up on her rear, the three of them taking the only table available, which was, as if fate had found a way to punish them further, right next to the quad of Slytherins' table.
"Why do you think Ron and Ginny were so late?" Hermione looked up from her menu, a frown on her face as she shook her head. Sure, she had a suspicion, but she didn't want to make any assumptions. After her emotional overshare the last time the lot of them were together at Hogwarts, Hermione seemed to have reevaluated her friendship with Ginny, though she would not speak on it to Harry. She'd talked to her mum and Josephine, wise as she was, suggested that maybe she and Ginny had been friends for the wrong reasons. Hermione was Harry's best friend, it was no secret that Ginny had a massive crush on Harry, and through that, that was likely why they had become friends. She had wanted to argue, to say that that wasn't true, that she and Ginny got on great, Harry not even being the many parts of their long talks. She refused to believe such a thing, that Ginny was using her to get closer to Harry.
Josephine then went on to say that Ginny was Hermione's only girl friend. Sure, she got on well enough as could be expected with other girls, but Ginny was her only friend, the only girl that didn't tease her, even if it was playful, for being a swot, and Hermione had simply not appreciated Ginny as she should have. Ginny Weasley was like a glass window. She was strong, she protected Hermione from the throes of the outside world, but she was delicate, and a boulder that was so rightfully named Adad Dimitriou had shattered her, and she didn't know where to begin picking up the pieces. Their friendship had been nearly destroyed and was in desperate need of repair, and if they did not try, Josephine Granger and Sybil Trelawney would be replaced with younger, more appealing female leads.
As they all talked amongst themselves, Neville expressing how excited he was to be learning about apparation, a shadow crossed over their table. Looking up, the three of them were met with the gazes of the four Slytherin, each looking at them with varying levels of confusion and disgust. Pansy stood at the front, clearing her throat when the silence became too much.
"Since you're already here, Longbottom," she started, the fact that she didn't want to be talking to him being more than evident. "We'd like to extend our condolences for your grandmother. She was truly," she paused, holding up the fakest, most uncomfortable looking smile Hermione had ever seen on a human being. It was so out of place that even Harry cringed. Neville stared up at them, placing his spoon down in his ice cream bowl, wiping his mouth with a napkin with a grace that she had never even thought to associate with him. Then again, she had never actually sat and watched him eat, either. Sitting back in his seat, he took a deep breath and gave them a once over. "She was truly a strong woman."
"You offer me your condolences after you laughed when your father stated that he couldn't wait until she kicked the bucket?" Her eyes widened, a slight tinge coming to her cheeks when she moved from one foot to the other. "It is rather unfortunate," he started, though the use of the word sound stale, dead on his tongue and unbefitting of him. "Though it is rather unfortunate that my grandmother passed away so swiftly," he started again, staring up at them. "I will not accept false sympathies from those who will soon be out to hurt myself and those close to me." Straightening his posture, he leaned forwards. "You're not sorry that she's gone. None of you are, so don't pretend as such. You can take your condolences and shove them up your bloody arses for all I care because I don't want them. Augusta Longbottom was a bitch and had no respect for those who would hurt others to save their own arses, to stay in the Ministry's pocketbook. She may have been the hardest person to live with, with a personality that would drive any sensible man insane, but she was real, she was honest, and a hell of a lot stronger than I could ever hope to be. You know nothing about my grandmother, you didn't even like her, so please," he finished, his eyes alight as he stared up at the lot of them, all who seemed to have been thoroughly chastised. "Spare me whatever this is and leave me to mourn in peace." The lot of them nodded, standing awkwardly as he turned to his friends, a grimace on his face. "I'm ready to leave." He didn't say more, didn't elaborate, simply pushed his frozen treat away, waiting for them to finish. Nodding, Hermione stood, Harry's eyes glued on Parkinson, seemingly scrutinizing her before standing, offering a hand to let Neville go first.
"Alright there, Nev?" The blond smiled as Ron Weasley offered him a one armed hug, smiling to his two best friends as Ginny followed, smiling to Neville and Harry, not even offering Hermione a glance. Though it hurt, the redhead greeted Ron warmly, patting his shoulder as they all walked together. Neville finally managed to free himself of Ron's embrace, walking closer to Hermione, who held out a hand, lending a bit of support to him, though not wanting to say anything to trigger any bad feelings. He accepted it gratefully, squeezing slightly as they went, trying to figure which place they would go first.
…
"Ginny, can I talk to you for a second?" The boys had separated from them and the lot of them would meet up for lunch, Hermione wanting to take a small trip to the cat and tea shop, where she would get items for Crookshanks and teas for her dad, but before she went anywhere of the sort, she wanted to speak with Ginny. She was so confused. Confused as to why Ginny was even angry with her, why everything seemed to be going horridly with their friendship. Ginny was one of her best friends, it hurt to be treated this way, especially when she didn't know why.
"Sure, Dimitriou. It's your world, I'm just living in it, yeah?" She wanted to be angry, but all she could manage was to straighten her back, grateful when Ginny made her way a bit off of the alley, to an area of benches that stood in the sun, surrounded by shrubbery. It was a lovely day, if she was completely honest, the weather having been good after a horrid bit of London rain.
"Why are you acting this way, Ginny?" The youngest Weasley looked at her with wide eyes. Could she not see it? She, heir to one of the most prestigious pureblood houses in Europe, couldn't bloody see it? Whilst they were walking, she heard two old women talking about her, none the wiser that the very subject of their conversation had passed them. She was a Dimitriou. She had heard stories of the celebrated pureblood family. They were literally descendants of Merlin, said to possess a power so great, others could not comprehend it! Hermione Granger could trace her lineage back to the most powerful wizard to ever live. And she knew it. She always knew it, yet she walked the halls of Hogwarts, pretending to be this humble muggleborn with muggle parents. Stavros Dimitriou was the man of even her own mother's dreams. Her mother had even considered writing up a marriage contract and sending it off to Greece, offering to marry his daughter off to Bill, someone who was damn near ten years older than her, knowing the pureblood elitist would likely curse her contract and send it back to her. Many people worshiped the ground they walked on. She remembered once, when she was little, they held a parade in honor of them simply visiting Diagon Alley and she'd been unfortunate enough to meet the ever celebrated Adad Dimitriou.
…
Five year old Ginny Weasley walked into Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor, her pockets filled with sickles as she stared up to get her favorite ice cream flavor, chocolate. She'd separated from her parents, having had been granted ten minutes alone by Bill, who had quickly gone with Charlie to the quidditch shop to look at their racing brooms. She was grateful for it, but that was when she saw her,
Adad Dimitriou, if she was honest, could have been mistaken for her sister if it were not evident that they were worlds apart, or the darker shade of Adad's hair. Where she had on a worn jumper, the older, yet smaller girl wore a crisp white tip, one that could only have been pressed by house elves. Ginny's hair felt just a tad past her ears, pulled back in a ponytail to keep it out of her eyes. The Dimitriou heir's auburn locks were piled atop her head, revealing an expanse of pale skin, usually only attained from days upon days spent indoors, partaking in activities befitting of a lady, not outside the Burrow chasing gnomes and rolling in dirt.
Despite it all, Ginny found herself interested in the girl. So interested, in fact, that she made her way over and sat across from her, attracting the heiress's eye, which didn't seem very fond of her presence. Clearing her throat, she extended her hand after wiping it on her shirt. "Nice to meet you, My name is Ginny." The Dimitriou heir eyed her hand and after about a minute of silence, it became clear that she wasn't going to take it. Her cheeks flamed pink with embarrassment as she lowered her hand, coughing awkwardly.
"Charmed," was all she offered and Ginny found in that very moment that Adad Dimitriou was not a very nice girl. "I'd ask you what sensible person names their child Ginny, but I don't need to. You have carrot colored hair, terrible quality of clothing, and you smell funny. You must be Ginevra Weasley." She hated being called that. It was very odd. An evident stream of insults made against her person and her family, and it was the older girl calling her by her given name that offended her. "I don't need to tell you my name, I'm sure you probably know it better than your own, mostly because it is better than your own." She couldn't believe her ears, though she didn't interrupt. "As nice as I'm assuming that you thought this chat would have been, I must go. It is unbecoming of a lady in my position to be conversing with common street rats that can't even afford an ice cream cone." Rising daintily, she gathered the object she was holding in her hand, a rather thick textbook with an odd drawing on it. Hurrying to her feet, Ginny approached the girl, hoping that her size would show her that she meant business, but she was simply shoved out of the way, falling on her bottom as her ice cream landed on the floor beside her. She sat in that position for about five minutes, until Bill and Charlie came in, tears falling as she hugged her elder brothers and bawled about the mean girl who made her ice cream fall on the ground. Having seen the entire altercation, the ice cream shop owner decided to gift her with a free ice cream, with no one, but two scoops.
Thinking back to that girl, it was hard to imagine her as Hermione Granger, one who had always been so compassionate and pure. While her original intentions for befriending the bushy haired muggleborn in her second year weren't exactly pure, she had found a companion like no other in Hermione and to discover that this amazing woman was the first person to ever make her feel small and less than her worth broke Ginny a bit. Charlie and Bill had gone in and splurged in her a pint of chocolate ice cream that they took home. She cried and cried in Bill's bed, surrounded by his very used blanket, blowing her nose into it and snotting the place up. When she told her parents, they had looked at her with the most pitying expressions and her mum hugged her tightly, informing her that it would be alright.
"I've been your friend for how long? Four years? You didn't even trust me enough to tell me? Hmm? How do you think it feels, being in the Department of Mysteries, fighting for my life, then I look over to find my best friend and I see one of them?" She watched as the bookworm's eyes widened, opening her mouth to protest, but Ginny held up a hand. "Save it! What's so bad about being pureblood, huh? What's so bad about being rich? What's so bad about our world that you decided to abandon it and then come back like it never happened? You literally had the wizard world in the palm of your hand and you decided to just abandon it? What, Mummy and Daddy wouldn't buy you your favorite horse? Did your house elf mess up your breakfast and you couldn't take it anymore? You expect me to feel sorry for you that you lied about having this extravagant life while you played poor little muggleborn at Hogwarts every year?" She looked up, expecting to find some cool facade associated with the girl she remembered from her childhood, but instead, there was a cackling in the air, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end as she stared into what could be classified as the physical embodiment of hell, and it was about to swallow Ginevra Molly Weasley whole.
"Is that what you think?" Her voice sounded strained, as if she was using every ounce of self control she possessed to keep from murdering the youngest Weasley. "Hmm? Is that what you think of me? That being Dimitriou is pretty dresses and extravagant horses? That all I did was sit on a pedestal and command my subjects like some posh dickhead with a superiority complex? What a life!" She began to pace, narrowing her eyes at the redheaded girl. "Well forgive me for being born. I can't believe you! I get more acceptance from bloody Parkinson than I do from you and you're supposed to be my best friend. You didn't even try so see why I didn't tell anyone about it, didn't try to say, 'Well, Hermione might have had a reason that she didn't want to share this with anyone.' But no, all of a sudden I'm some pureblood princess and a blood supremacist because you can't look past your own insecurities!" Ginny's back straightened, but she was stopped by a hand. "Don't you dare. Don't you fucking dare try and interrupt me! I gave you your chance to speak and it's my turn." Her voice trembled, her face streaked with tears.
"I thought that out of all people that would make it not seem so bad, you would at least try, Ginny. Try to understand, try to listen, but you're the worst one. At least Ron apologized for the way he acted! You were my best friend." The use of that world made Ginny feel like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head. Were? What did she mean? "I think it's best," she started, her mouth setting in a firm line, as if she was going to regurgitate something unpleasant. "I think it's best if we don't speak to each other for a while. With the mood I'm in right now, I can say things to you that would make you hate me, Ginevra." With that, she turned on her heel and left the redhead standing, the sun beating down on her, almost as if it were passing on punishment, judging her with every ray. Looking around, she shook her head, taking off in the opposite direction that she'd come.
…
Trouble in friendship town?" She didn't need to look up to know it was Parkinson, her eyes scanning the shelves lined with cat toys, trying to figure which one Crooks would like the most. He wasn't a fan of the lights, as he was too lazy to get off his fat arse and chase them.
"Not in the mood," she said simply, running her hand over a scrathing post, frowning at the odd texture, something she was sure Crookshanks would not like. As she moved, she noticed hat Parkinson hadn't moved from the spot she was in, a sigh escaping her as she turned around, facing the dark haired Slytherin girl, annoyance clearly written on her face. "What do you want? Hmm? To make fun of me, to talk about my squib parents? To make me feel less than you? Save it, I don't want to hear it."
"You Gryffindor cretin don't appreciate kindness when it's presented to you. You're just like Longbottom, the uncivilized oaf. I try to be cordial with him and this is the thanks I get?" Hermione stared at her, wondering if she was actually serious or not. When the Parkinson heir didn't say anything, she sighed, crossing her arms.
"Do you actually hear yourself, Pansy?" The pug nosed girl sniffed disdainfully, though the use of her given name sent a jolt through her being. Never had she heard Hermione Granger utter her name and if she was honest, it sounded rather nice, though the disappointment made her stomach churn slightly. "I mean seriously, do you hear yourself? You are such a bitch, how dare you speak about Neville that way?!" The volume of her voice attracted the eyes of fellow patrons in the shop and Pansy opened her mouth to defend herself, but the redhead held up a hand, stopping her words.
"Neville wouldn't dare say anything, but im not Neville and I refuse to sit here and allow you to insult him to my face when you are the one in the wrong." Her chest was heaving as she glared at the Slytherin. "He's just lost his grandmother, you insipid cow! She was all he had left and now she's gone! How would you feel if your mother died and Ginny told you how sorry she was about your loss when just a month ago, she insulted you mother to your face?! I'm not surprised you said what you said, but you had the audacity to stand in his face and give out false sympathies. Of course he isn't going to accept it, you've never had a nice thing to say about Augusta Longbottom a day in your life!" She balled her fists, shaking her head. "This is a new low, even for you." The way she said it, the way she sounded, as if she was disgusted caused shame to gather in the pit of Pansy's stomach. As she watched her leave to another part of the store, she let her head fall, the patrons dispersing as she shot them a withering glare, turning on her heel and exiting the shop. She knew what she had to do, even though she didn't want to do it.
Hello all ^^! It is I, your friendly neighborhood Momo and I must admit, I'm still unreliable. Sadly, I've recently broken my glasses, so writing has been a little slow. Well… more than a little but still. This will definitely be the final chapter in England until sixth year starts and things start to really get going. Next chapter, Jocasta Dimitriou will definitely be introduced and she's a bit of a character, much like another person we know. She is a very instrumental plot device though, as several of you may actually be able to guess what it is that she will do.