Saturday, March 08, 2008
Story (I copy and paste from internet) - Chapter 1 - 'YOUR SOUL SLEEPS'
PROLOGUE.
Hermione Granger had just turned seventeen this year, and was about to begin her seventh and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A thing many people don't know about Hermione, is that there are a great deal of things she doesn't like about herself. Indeed, more than she does like. This fact saddened her, but brought her closure, knowing who she was, and thinking that that couldn't be changed.
Hermione wasn't just talking about her physical appearance, although that did bother her immensely, too. Physically, she hated her hair more than anything; trivial, but true. She had tried spell after spell to straighten it, to defrizz it... strangely nothing worked. So this; the mass that was her hair, had become one of her self noticed faults that she had simply grown to live with. She also hated her figure, just in general. For anybody else to look at, she had enviable curves... but looking at herself. No. Her legs were too short and her stomach wasn't flat enough, her hips were too big and her chest too small. She would often dress in different outfits, standing in front of her mirror for hours in the Summer and Christmas holidays, turning this way and that... tugging tops lower, adjusting skirts and trousers... and why, oh why did nothing ever look right on her?
Seemingly, this was a side to Hermione that she would never, ever dare to show at school. Because at school, she was... well; Hermione.
And 'School Hermione' didn't bother with issues such as hair and weight and clothes, did she? Oh no. There wasn't time. She didn't have the energy. She was more concerned with obtaining top marks in any and every subject she could possibly fit into her timetable. And this was something else she considered a fault on herself, but couldn't change.
For so long she had given herself the reputation of... basically knowing everything. Or, maybe, other people had forced that reputation on her from a few high scores in first year, and ever since then, she had studied, worked, tiresomly hard to keep those grades at successful levels, astounding even herself with how well she could do when she tried.
No one knew, not even Harry Potter or Ron Weasley, her two best friends, that before joining Hogwarts, she had been quite... rebellious. She certainly hadn't been the 'Know-it-all' she was classed as now. At her muggle school, she had been the 'naughty' one in the class, and most of her memories of first school were facing the wall in the 'naughty corner', forbidden from making eye contact with any children during 'punishment time'. She laughed at this thought now, though. She wondered what her life would be like if she had kept the attitude she had held so close to her heart during her childhood? Would she be best friends with Harry and Ron? Would she even still be at Hogwarts? Would she have been sorted into Gryffindor?
Hermione didn't know the answers to these questions, but she did know one thing. She felt so suffocated in her life. She couldn't figure out why, but she did. And she felt guilty for having these feelings. Why on earth should she be unhappy with her life, when Harry... her own best friend... was now very rarely heard complaining about anything, even though... so much had happened to him. His parents... Voldemort... and here she was, feeling sorry for herself because-
Because why, exactly?
She didn't know. It couldn't be worked out through books. She couldn't find the answers to her life in a library. She had given up looking long ago. Hermione wondered how and why her attitude had changed so startlingly from first school, to Hogwarts. She didn't understand. She was so young at the time... She remembered her first day at Hogwarts... her very first lesson; potions, it had been. Snape. She shuddered just thinking about him. What an awful creature he was. Absolutely awful; really that was the only word to describe him.
But potions, that had been her first ever lesson... and it should probably have been enough to send her screaming back to her Mother and Father. But she found something... something incredible. Something astounding. Never before had she picked up a book containing anything magical, never before had she bothered to find out what it was she was attending Hogwarts to learn about. To be perfectly honest, when her parents had sat her down and handed her the letter from Professor Dumbledore when she was a tender eleven years old, she had laughed at actually torn it up, thinking her parents were trying to work out a suitable punishment for her recent wrong doing at school... thinking hard, she remembered vaguely it had something to do with a swinging chair and a girl in the year above her. Interesting.
But indeed, she had thought it a boarding school of some-sort, and had not bothered to do any research on Hogwarts. No. She had turned up with wide eyes to the castle, amazed by it's tranquil beauty and eccentric teachers and students. Potions, though. Her first lesson, yes... she knew all of the answers! It was as if stupid, silly words were forming themselves in her mind, letters jumbling into a mixed up order, and practically bursting from her mouth. Only when she actually called out an answer the her greasy haired teacher had she understood she was absolutely right... he had turned to her with a furrowed brow... and asked her to raise her hand before answering in a cold tone. And from then on, her hand flew into the air first for every question.
The answers she was giving, the words she was saying, they all meant nothing to her... she didn't know what they meant! All she knew was that the things she was saying were correct - and they were earning her points for her house; Gryffindor! For the first time in her life, Hermione felt good at something! And that something soon became extremely generalised as 'magic'. She was good at anything to do with it - not just good, excellent, fabulous, the best! No one could outspeak her in matters of Herbology, Potions, Defence, Transfiguration - she knew it all! It was all right there in her mind! It was all waiting for her to be in the right lesson, the right question to be asked and information just jumped to her mouth! It was amazing!
She admitted to herself from the very beginning she was cheating. Not intentionally though. It wasn't her fault she knew all of these things. But she didn't understand how she knew them. It didn't make sense. However, as long as she knew, she could use her knowledge to her advantage. And henceforth she was known as the 'Know-It-All'... and it became a reputation she felt she had to live up too. So then she began studying, began working extremely hard, fearful her puzzling knowledge would one day dissapear and leave her feeling and looking... stupid. Like she had been, like her peers and teachers had told her she was in muggle school. Stupid. Stupid Hermione Granger.
Her parents were so proud, and Hermione could feel guilt welling inside of her every time a good word was said about her across the table at dinner... when she heard her parents talking quietly of how impressed they were... when her Dad bought new clothes for his 'Angel' because she was doing so well. Guilt, guilt, guilt. She wasn't doing well. She felt distressingly feverish and regretful that she knew these things - but why should she? As said, it wasn't her fault. But where had her knowledge come from? Why did she know these things? Why were they so implanted in her mind?
Her magical skills impressed everyone around her, particularly because she had come from a Muggle heritage. But for the previous six years of her life, her magic has only helped her, has only done good. What would happen if her knowledge suddenly became extremely dangerous, again, through no fault of her own? What if she suddenly knew things she didn't want to know? Wanted to try things she knew were wrong... were almost evil? What would then happen to the 'Know-it-all', Hermione Granger?
CHAPTER 1
Last Impressions.
Stretching, she pushed her covers away and moved to sit up, hanging her legs over the side of her bed, her feet landing on the wooden floor of her room, an instant chill running through her. Shivering slightly, she stood up and ran a hand through her mass of bushy hair, yawning widely once more and peering around her room.
Back to school today! Yes! Oh she loved being home for summer, but she missed her friends, and got so bored she eventually began missing her enemies too, which couldn't be good. With a grin, she moved quickly to her wardrobe, and flung open the doors, wondering what to wear for her journey back across the country to her second home. Well, it shared prize of 'first home' with her Mother and Father now, she thought. She had completed all of her homework to first class standard, as usual, and was ready and raring to go, back into her final year at Hogwarts.
'Hermione! Breakfast!' Her Mother's voice called from downstairs, and Hermione shut her wardrobe doors, deciding she had plenty of time to get ready later. She pulled her dressing gown of pale pink on over her white pyjamas, and ran from her room, closing the door behind her, before joggin down the stairs, her hair flying behind her.
'Morning!' She smiled happily when she reached the kitchen, sitting down at the table as her Mother stood by the toaster, also smiling.
'Good morning! You're looking forwards to getting back to school, then?' Her Mother grinned, and turned to face her daughter. The likeness was quite startling. Mrs Granger had the same color and texture of hair as her daughter, along with pale skin and rosy cheeks. Her eyes were only a shade darker than Hermione's - they could be taken for sister's.
'Of course!' Hermione laughed, pouring herself some orange juice from the jug on the table.
'Of course.' Mrs Granger shook her head with smile and turned back to the toaster, picking up the ready toast and placing it on a plate, before walking to the table and putting it down in front of her daughter. She sat down opposite Hermione.
'Where's Daddy?' Hermione asked automatically, picking up some toast and sinking her teeth into it.
'He had to leave for work early. He said to say goodbye, and to have a wonderful first term back at Hogwarts. And to be good.' Mrs Granger grinned, and Hermione laughed.
'Am I ever anything but?'
'I think he still fears you'll one day turn back to how you were in First school.' Mrs Granger shrugged lightly, and Hermione swallowed her toast, not able to think of anything to say to this. 'So I'll take you to King's Cross in the car, before heading over to work.'
'It's okay, I can apparate now if you like.' Hermione offered, but her Mother shook her head instantly.
'Absolutely not! You may be all grown up in your world, but you'll always be my Little Girl, and no matter how old you get, I intend to be there to wave you off into every important stage of your life.' Hermione noticed her Mother had tears in her eyes as she said this, and thought it slightly strange.
'Mum... 'my world' includes you, you know? I don't forget you because I'm away at school...' Hermione frowned at her Mother's use of the term, and felt upset by it.
'I know, Honey, I just meant that... well, that I'll take you to King's Cross, no arguments.' Mrs Granger stood up and took away Hermione's plate before Hermione could say anything else.
'I'll go and get ready, then.' Hermione got to her feet again, and gazed at her mother for a moment, before walking away out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
'Now you've got everything?'
'I told you - everything I could possibly need!' Hermione sighed, pulling her trunk downstairs. She knew she could use magic now... but her parents were classed as Muggle's, and she wasn't sure if that would get her into trouble with the Ministry, performing magic in front of her family. Possibly. So she decided not to take the chance. Besides, this was the last time she would ever begin a full year at Hogwarts again, and she had dragged her trunk down those stairs so many times before... and old habits die hard.
'You're sure?'
'Yes, Mother!'
'Well come on then - we'll be late!' Mrs Granger took Hermione's trunk from her, and began pulling it along and out of the front door, throwing the keys for Hermione to catch over her shoulder. 'Lock up while I put this in the car.'
'Okay.' Hermione called, walking into the Living room and staring around, smiling slightly.
'Hermione! You're going to miss the train!' Her Mother called after a moment, and Hermione turned and walked into the hallway, her flat shoes snapping on the wood floor.
'I'm coming!' She shouted, and she stepped outside into the warm sunshine, squinting as it hit her eyes. She pulled her front door shut, and locked it quickly, stepping backwards and looking up to her house. She always felt a little sad when leaving it each year.
'Hermione!'
'Alright!' Hermione turned and threw the keys back to her Mother, and she climbed into the front seat of the car, tugging her seat belt over herself and flipping down the mirror to check her hair. Her Mother snapped the door shut and started the engine.
'You look nice. For travelling.' She observed, smiling cheekily.
'I do? Well I just-'
'Who you trying to impress?' Her Mother laughed as she pulled away out of the driveway, gravel crunching under the tyres. Hermione blushed furiously as she tugged at the cropped black jacket she had on over a blue strapless top. Dark jeans accompanied the look, and little fake diamonds glittered around the waistline. A small butterfly was emblazoned on the right of her black jacket, the same shade of flat blue shoes matched her top perfectly. Her hair was waved softly - and she was wearing make-up; for school! Only eyeliner and blusher, but still. Her Mother noticed every tiny detail, and no matter how good or bad Hermione looked at the beginning of every year, her Mother would always tease her about who she was trying to impress...
'Oh, you do this every year!'
'Now, this is your last chance - you're sure you have everything?'
'Yes Mum! Now go, you'll be late for work!' Hermione pushed her trolley with ehr trunk securely perched on top through King's Cross station.
'I already am - it doesn't make much difference now! But-'
'Mum. I'll be fine. I'll have a safe trip. I'll write every week. I'll be careful and safe. I won't break any rules. I'll stay away from fights no matter who they may involve. I'll do my work, I'll do my homework. I'll tell you which holidays I'm coming home for. And...' Hermione blushed as she read off the list her Mother reminded her of every year. 'And I won't let any boys take advantage of
'Well, you remembered it all very well.' Her Mother smiled, satisfied.
'You do say it every year, and most holidays.' Hermione reminded, and her Mother nodded, looking sad. 'So you can go now; I don't want you to be too late.' Hermione let go of her trolley and hugged her Mother, who kissed her cheek. 'Bye - I'll see you soon!'
'Okay, darling... just... just have a nice time!' Her Mother called as Hermione walked away towards the wall that seperated Platform Nine and Three Quarters from the rest of King's Cross.
'I will!'
'And stay out of trouble!'
'Yes, I will!' Hermione couldn't help but laugh, and she turned and waved at her Mother, before heading through the barrier at a run, and materializing on the other side in an instant.
For the whole morning, Hermione had been sadly aware that everything she was doing would be for the last time - dressing for her last first day of attending a full year at Hogwarts; her last time for passing through the barrier to begin a new year, the last time to try and impress the person she had been trying to impress for over six years.
