WWN 1, Season 4

Writing School: Opening and Special Punctuation

School: Ilvermorny

Year: Exchange 2

WC: 537

"Why would you think that?" Hermione's voice held a note of accusation. The ocean waves lapped a little harshly against the raised patio.

The other people, seated at the table, turned to look at her. Their faces are awash with a certain sense of bewilderment (or betrayal—if Hermione was being honest). Harry broke the silence, as clouds began to gather above, by downing the last of his beer. Neville quickly stood up to follow. He had been the unfortunate listener of Hermione's ire over the years.

"I'm going to get another round, anyone else?" he asked. A seagull squawked overhead.

"Would anyone else like another one," Luna corrected but she gave her mug to Harry anyway.

"No, you aren't leaving here until you answer my question. Who told you I enjoyed studying?"

Ron shuffled uncomfortably; Hermione's gaze settled on him. Neville obediently took his seat; while Harry inched closer to the door.

"If none of you are going to—"

"Merlin! It isn't alchemy. We assumed you didn't have any other interests—studying, it was all you talked about. You never gave it a break." Ginny's outburst settled oddly around the table Hermione noted.

"And you believed that about me, didn't you?" Hermione couldn't help it; she knew she was being nasty (unfair too). "I was eleven and one day I went from knowing something about the world to nothing at all."

She remembered it clearly; the letter, and the professor accompanying it. Hermione recalled, sitting on the beach with a letter that explained everything and nothing at all. She, like most muggle-borns, remembered the accidents and moments she had no explanation for and wished that someone had told her sooner that she wasn't going insane by imagining things out of the corner of her eye. Then came the fear about how knowing nothing meant being a fool. Hermione knew that she'd rather be anyone else than being labelled as a fool.

The change happened overnight. She dragged her parents to Flourish and Blotts and voluntarily bought her first book. Hermione had hated reading (to a certain extent, she still did), she had been the type of student who ignored their homework and hurriedly did maths while eating breakfast. Magic had changed all of that, learning about Magic had made her feel so far behind, that Hermione was not sure if she would ever get over the culture shock.

Ron scoffed, "You must be lying. When I met you, you could ramble Quidditch statistics from the Prophet while holding political conversations with Percy."

Hermione grinned at that specific memory. "You did that too, so effortlessly. I still don't like reading or homework or the million other things I do to keep up. But I'd rather that, than feel like I'm drowning every time the rest of you pull out a seemingly common reference I'm supposed to know."

She took in the shock and realised that the clouds above her head had cleared up.

"So no more books for presents then?" Luna asked.

Hermione nodded.

"Thank Merlin, I swear we were running out of non-fiction titles," Ginny muttered and the entire table laughed.

Stupid, was it not, the assumptions made at eleven and carried into adulthood had come to define her.

A/n: Sentences for judging

Semicolon sentences:

1. Ron shuffled uncomfortably; Hermione's gaze settled on him.

2. Neville obediently took his seat; while Harry inched closer to the door.

Bracket sentence:

1. Their faces are awash with a certain sense of bewilderment (or betrayal—if Hermione was being honest).

Dash use:

1. "If none of you are going to—"

2. We assumed you didn't have any other interests—studying, it was all you talked about.