Saving the Wizarding World (Ravenclaw-style)

by The Bookshelf in the Staircase

Louise is a former Ravenclaw student. Right after graduating from Hogwarts (same year as Luna, Ginny and Hermione), she moved back to muggle London to study mathematics. Five years later, she discovers that the Wizarding World is in danger. She could save it, but she might have to forget her ethical standards. Her biggest problem, though, is her "bravery" issue. Please review! :)

4. Chapter 4: Mudblood

Just a short chapter from Hermione's point of view, as I could not resist writing it. Please post a review, I'd love to know what I should change/do better.

Hermione Granger did not belong in a kitchen. It was the one and only thing she was bad at, maybe besides drawing and Quidditch. She would only hire house-elves at special occasions, and she made sure to treat them like people. She had seen so much during the last five years. She though it was the end of fear and darkness when Harry finally eliminated Voldemort – she did not like the word kill – was there anything left to kill, anyhow? She hesitated while trying to concentrate on the boiling spell. What was supposed to be the end, turned out to be a new beginning – why did it have to be like that?

The snow had reached the second doorstep by the end of October. It had reached the uppermost step by the end of November. And now, 23th of December, in the early afternoon, she could barely open the kitchen window. Hermione had never seen anything quite like this before, at least not in Great Britain. It was not normal. If she wanted all this snow, she would have lived at the North Pole or in Norway.

Pondering extraordinary amounts of snow, quantum physics or just life in general while cooking is not a good idea. Hermione felt the fire burn her fingertips, tried not to scream, opened the window and plunged her hands into the cold snow. She had done so without realising that her long-sleeved purple dress was getting wet. Pulling her white-blue hands from the snow, she pulled out her wand to perform a drying spell. "Sècher!" She said the spell without hesitation, and could feel her sleeve dry. As the sleeve was pulled at by the spell, the word that Bellatrix Lestrange had once carved into her arm became visible.

Mudblood.

The word was written with big uneven letters carved by knife into her arm six years ago. And it still made her freeze on the spot. It still scared her, probably because it was still muttered once in a while by members of certain pureblood families. How long would the peace last?