i wanted to get another chapter out, i couldnt resist.

I still dont own harry potter. I dont think, by the time you finish this fic, i ever will. dont sure me if im lax on repeating this.

Hermione dodged and rolled away from the prodding hand that nearly grabbed her thigh. Tangled into the sheets, her face was screwed up into frustration.

She shoved her face into the pillow, screaming protest.

Her mother gave up trying to wake her and walked out the door.

As soon as she heard her mother leave her room, Hermione stepped out of her bed, fully clothed…in last night's clothes, that is.

Hermione had only climbed through that window minutes before her mother came to wake her on her first day of school. Hermione grumbled to herself and stood up, stripping down to boxers and a tank top.

Hermione scowled into the mirror. Of course, there were the reasons she didn't want her mother to see her.

Many hiccies and love bites trailed down her neck, and all across her chest.

"His marks last longer than he does." Grabbing her wand, she did her best to heal the marks, but with no luck. She was forced to conceal them, but they wouldn't heal under that spell. Disgruntled, Hermione moved to take a quick shower before getting dressed and heading down to breakfast.

Hermione, had, of course, been spending her last night out with her boyfriend, Kyle, who she flirted with innocently enough at summer camp and then promptly broke up with her to 'finish off the summer.'

After trying her best to remove the hiccies with the aid of magic, she looked at the outfit that had been placed out for her, courtesy of her mother.

A tiny white T-shirt with a hot-pink heart on the front, a matching thong, a hot pink mini denim skirt, and white flip flops.

Hermione grabbed an outfit similar to that she wore the night before, and quite the contrast with her mothers taste.

A navy blue tee, a big black hoodie, low rise Levi's and black sandals completed her ensemble along with a bandana over her curly wet hair. For the moment, her hair looked nice, with dark brown waves and natural highlights, but Hermione knew that the moment it dried, she would be back to her bushier-than-ever hairstyle. Still, the curls were nice while they lasted.

Sighing at her own tired reflection, Hermione got a good view of her tired eyes, emphasized by the dark skin underneath them. It hadn't been worth it, spending the night out with him.

She had hoped, somewhat, that by spending the night with someone she loved, the next day she would be ready to confront others that she loved, that had neglected her for a good part of the summer.

It wasn't all Harry and Ron's fault, they had just… forgotten?

It was a terrible way to describe their distance, but she had merely grown busy and introverted… she was sure they had felt the same.

Reaching under her bed, she pulled out her journal and jotted down a note about what Kyle had done… and a reflection of why she wasn't going to break revenge, for the most part her days spent with Kyle had been the best parts of her summer, just knowing he cared. Even if he faked it. She supposed he had faked it in the first place to get in her pants, and had made it his summer goal. Which was probably why, when she stopped him last night, he had so promptly broken it off.

So she was a virgin. She was in control of it. She had had opportunities to lose it, she wasn't atrocious… but she liked being the good girl, in a way.

She had spent so many years building morals, she wasn't going to ignorantly break them now.

Then explain what happened to your morals about 'best friends,' and staying out all night, and lying to your parents…

Hermione frowned at herself in frustration, leaned over to the radio, turned on her Flaming Lips cd, and forgot that she wasn't perfect.

Proud of herself for not being upset about him breaking up with her, she munched on a Three Musketeers before moving out the door, feeling much better.

Hermione sauntered down the stairs. Today, the first day of school, her seventh year… Hermione felt a smile creep onto her face.

She was happy to go back. In the same sense that Harry loved Hogwarts, she knew it was her home. Here, in this house, were the people she loved, but at Hogwarts she was offered with so much more, more people, more opportunities…

She would see everything she had missed all summer.

Letters to Harry and Ron had never been returned, and she supposed she would enjoy having them in arms' reach, where neglecting each other was simply impossible.

Best friends were hard to keep up…

Shaking it off, Hermione grabbed her coffee and greeted her mother. But Hermione couldn't ignore the frown cast not in the direction of her but the clothes she chose.

She sighed and put down the coffee.

"Yes mother?"

Her mother bit her lip. "I do wish you would do…something, dear. It's your first day back! Don't you want to make a nice impression?"

Hermione laughed, slightly cynical. "Mum, anyone who doesn't know me already, I'm not interested in knowing."

"Please, dear, for me…" Mrs. Granger put her hand over Hermione's own… and Hermione gave into the guilt trip.

Grumbling, she got up and kissed her mother on the cheek. "For you."

When she was back upstairs, Hermione faced the enemy…pink.

Sighing, Hermione decided she could at least get rid of the ridiculous heart. It was now a plain white t-shirt, even though much too tight and revealing for Hermione, who was now faced with the problem of making it so that the shirt was not so transparent to reveal her black bra, finally settling on changing into a white sports-bra.

Hermione contemplated the skirt- she didn't know where to start. But it seemed that every time she tried to make it longer or looser, it would rip apart at the seams. 'Fashion' wasn't meant to look good or be comfortable, or even worth your money. Hermione thought bitterly as the split in the front split even more ludicrously higher accidentally.

When the horridly pink skirt was on, split repaired but altogether victoriously stretching across her legs Hermione was forced to cover something she really didn't care about. Stupid revealing clothes she thought. Sighing, Hermione also placed a concealer charm on herself. So what if she gained weight. It was better than getting an eating disorder. Still, the concealer charm was not comfortable. It gave the feeling of a corset, and as weird as it sounds to have a corset against your thighs that's definitely how it felt. Hermione's flab was reduced to toned muscles, and Hermione scorned herself for going too far. So, to make it less extreme, she turned the weight into flat and skinny, the weight of a girl that didn't exercise but didn't overeat.

No, Hermione was perfectly happy with herself. Besides this rare occasion of wearing a skirt, it didn't matter, for she was within fifteen pounds of ideal weight. Still, she decided if she was going to do this to please her mother, she might as well do it right. She shrugged it off.

She gathered a few clothes and tossed them into her overlarge purse, which held her iPod, a book, and a few other necessities, including her emergency endorphins: a Hershey bar.

She faced the blasted mirror again. Refusing to mess with her hair much, she pulled it into a bun and continued to make her appearance…pleasant, as her mother would say. After some cheesy highlights and a fake tan, she continued her search.

Looking around, Hermione saw another thing her mother did her best to force upon her…makeup.

Removing the bags from under her eyes, Hermione used the horrid concealant to make her features softer, mascara and pink eye-shadow to make her more… feminine, if the outfit didn't do that already. Trying to avoid her reflection, Hermione made her way back downstairs.

Her mother beamed at her. "Thank you…" Mrs. Granger then pulled her daughter into a full on hug, crying.

"Mum, its only make-up." Hermione said.

"You're so grown up…"

Hermione scoffed. It had taken pink eye-shadow to show her mother she was an adult?

-

Hermione hugged her parents good bye, again, and made her way through the barrier. Hermione could have done out her whole summer differently. She could've stayed with Harry and Ron, seeing as how Hermione had been of age since about November. But Hermione knew that her parents had been heart-broken. And Hermione couldn't fathom the idea of ignoring all her schoolwork, even if it was for something more pleasing.

For it had been Ron and Hermione's idea to live at the Burrow with Harry, so as to save him from the Dursley's. They hadn't been upset when she said she wouldn't, for they knew that they would see her before too long, and that Hermione did have parents that cared for her.

Besides, it would have been slightly odd at the Burrow. Ginny and her were the best of friends, and the rest of the Weasley's were her family… but Hermione was still left in the prospect of what to do about Ron, who, despite his constant cuddles, did not seem to believe they were a proper couple.

She made her way through the platform…it was awfully crowded, but everyone was ignoring her as she made her way towards the train.

Everyone was facing the train and shouting and… Suddenly Hermione looked at the clock. Oh no! For the clock told the tale just as the whistle sung.

Hermione made her way through the many parents who, frankly, did not notice that she was trying to get aboard. The scarlet engine was moving along and Hermione did her best to catch up. How could she be late?

As the train went faster, heads poked out to see Hermione Granger, seventh year Gryffindor, the only female of the golden trio- and rumored Head girl, trying her best to run alongside the train.

Damn flip-flops! She thought as they threatened to trip her again. Thinking fast, Hermione aimed her wand at the trunk that had been following her on the trolley. She aimed it through an open window and let go of the trolley, now only carrying her purse.

Suddenly she noticed boys whistling at her! Whistling at her!! Hermione thought angrily. Damn the sports-bra to hell!!

Hermione nearly screamed. Here she was, trying not to get a bad start, and they were ignoring her struggle to mock her!

Suddenly Hermione stopped, there was no chance, the last of the compartments were gone and all that was left was the cargo and cabin where they burned the coal.

As soon as she stopped, however, two strong arms gripped her waist and under her arms.

Hermione shrieked as she was pulled upward onto a balcony at the end of the last car.

"Hi Harry." Hermione said breathlessly.

Harry Potter licked his lips, pushed up his glasses upon his nose, and crashed his lips onto hers.

As the train finally left the platform, Hermione could hear parents whistling and applauding.

As Harry pulled her waist towards his, Hermione could feel herself naturally pulling into him, as her conscience was pulling away.

Well hello to you too…

Her thoughts were interrupted as a stern voice awoke them from their stupor. Harry jumped, and Hermione would've, but was in a pretty deep daze at that moment.

Professor McGonagoll looked at them sternly but not unsmiling. "Come along, students."

Harry let Hermione pass before him, and he ran his hands through his hair. His best friend's girl… was all that could pass through his head.

Only a foot in front of him, Hermione was also thinking about what had just happened. What on earth would they tell Ron? It was apparent that Ron had feelings for her, there was no way he couldn't…but it was also the matter that Ron was too nervous to do anything about it, and acted as if Hermione had no idea about it.

Just in front of her, Professor McGonagoll was deciding if this was worthy of gossiping along to the other professors. She was sure that they would get a kick out of it.