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The Potter Vs. Granger Rivalry by lillyfan16
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The Potter Vs. Granger Rivalry

lillyfan16

Hey, I want to thank everyone for their reviews, and here's the next chapter! Enjoy and don't forget to review! I'm gonna be gone all weekend, so surprise me with loads of reviews for this chapter when I get back!

RECAP

…a hug was slightly understandable…but a kiss!

The second their lips made contact, however soft and brief it had been, Harry was sure he had died and gone Heaven.

And besides: It. Was. An. A-C-C-I-D-E-N-T!

'What are you saying, Granger? Did you enjoy it?'

"You barely know her and you say all this stuff about her"

"So your father and I decided, that it would be best if you joined the Girls' Club…"

"Hermione Jane Granger, go upstairs to your room and bring down your magic wand."

Chapter 4: Girls' Club and Futures

Harry glanced at his alarm clock and the neon green digits told him it was late in the morning. He just yawned and clutched the pillow over his head to block out the sunlight that was trying to creep in through the separation of the navy curtains that hung over his windows, shielding his room from the view of an outsider. He needed to get up, he knew that, but right now, his motivation level wasn't exactly impressive. After another ten minutes of pointless dawdling, Harry finally made the epic journey of about 15 feet into his bathroom and took his morning shower.

Harry walked into a deserted kitchen, and then moved on to other rooms in the house only to find no one was home. He sighed, looks like he was on his own today, which wasn't surprising. He loved his parents, but they weren't exactly the role model family unit when it came to spending quality time together. Nevertheless, Harry learned to deal with it, he became accustom to seeing his friends' parents as much as he sees his own. 'No need to dwell on it though', he thought as he made his way back to the kitchen and the refrigerator. Maybe he would call his buddies and see if they wanted to come out and hang for a while. Or maybe he could go take a walk through Diagon Alley, stop at Quality Quidditch Supplies and see what's up.

After eating breakfast, Harry still had no clue what he wanted to do, everything he came up with just seemed so worn out. There wasn't anything change really, the same routine, just in different patterns. With a sigh, he headed up to his room and grabbed his guitar then went outside.

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They took her wand. She sat, completely numb from head to toe, as her stony-faced mother drove across town. She sat in the backseat of the SUV, not wanting to be near her mother right now. Hermione couldn't believe what was happening; her mother was making her go to some dumb Girls' Club. Still, the worst was when they took he wand. How was she supposed to prepare for Hogwarts if she didn't have the most important thing that made her a witch?

"Hermione, you will get your wand back when we feel you have improved your attitude. You will not talk to your mother that way and until you have shown us you can be more respectful and not act like a hermit, we will discuss whether you will get your wand back. Until then, you are on a thin line, so I would just advise you watch out." Her father's voice was cold and stern. Hermione wasn't used to her father using such a tone, especially with her. She glanced at her wand sitting on the cold table top, and for the first time in her life, she considered the idea of using her wand against her own parents for doing this to her, for all the times they had hurt her by arguing or showing how disappointed they were in her. However, she dismissed that thought quickly, disgusted with herself for even conceiving the idea.

"You will thank us for this one day, you know, Hermione." Her mother's voice broke her out of her thoughts. She looked up and met her mother's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"For some reason, I really doubt that, Mother," Hermione responded, not bothering to conceal the anger dripping from her voice.

Mrs. Granger shook her head, "Sometimes I just never know about you, Hermione. Why can't you just agree with your father and me every once in awhile?" Hermione gave no response, and just stared out the side window, gazing at the trees and trying to keep her anger in check. After about another 10 minutes of driving, they stopped in front of a rather nice looking building. There were flowerbeds on either side of the cement walkway, leading up about four stairs and onto a porch with white columns on the edges. A sign was in the freshly mowed lawn with the words:

Girls' Club

Where We Can Express Ourselves!

Hermione felt the familiar feeling she got before she was about to vomit creeping into her stomach. This was completely ridiculous. She didn't notice her mother starting up the walkway. "Hermione, come on, you don't want to be late for your first meeting."

Hermione looked up at her mother, "I don't really think it's necessary for you to walk me in; after all, I am seventeen." Hermione said, walking toward her mother.

"I will walk in with you, and if you don't like it, then good, because I don't really care right now. Now let's go," and with that, her mother began her brisk walk up to the door Hermione was dreading to go through. With a sign of defeat, Hermione reluctantly followed, the anger in her eyes burning into the back of her mother neat hair.

The walk to the door seemed all too short for Hermione's liking, but what could she do? What would her parents do to her if she just bolted down the street and didn't look back? As tempting as that sounded, instead Hermione followed her mother into the dreaded building and into a small foyer and then down a hall into a good sized lobby. The walls were a white cream color with maroon wallpaper border and a cherry finish on the woodwork. The floor was also wooden, with a giant multi-shaded maroon throw rug in the center, covering most of the shiny, polished floor. A desk was sitting in a corner with a middle-aged woman sitting behind it looking though the metal filing cabinet for something. She looked up when we walked into the room and gave us a warm smile, which my mother returned, then glancing at me with my stony expression; the woman's seem smile falter a bit.

"Mrs. Granger, it's nice to see you again. This must be your daughter, Hermione," The woman's voice was so overly sweet and soft that Hermione couldn't help but want to gag at the fakeness of it. She noticed both of the women staring at her, so Hermione tried to muster up a smile, but she was terrified that if she made too much movement with her mouth, she just might spew up everything she had eaten today, so she didn't overdue it.

"Nice to see you again too, Mrs. Collins. And yes, this is my daughter; we are here for her first meeting." Hermione heard her mother's response, but was still feeling slightly dizzy. Before she knew it, her mother led the way into another room, one more spacious and to Hermione's disappointment, filled with about twelve or thirteen girls around her age. After taking one glance at them, Hermione wanted to laugh out loud. As they drew closer to the group, Hermione just rolled her eyes. The huddle stopped talking and then focused their attention on the newcomers. Another younger woman, about her mid-twenties, walked up to the Grangers.

"Hello! We are so glad you can join us today, Hermione! We are going t have so much fun; if only you could've

joined us earlier in the summer. But I guess we'll just have to make up for lost time, right?" The woman's voice was so perky and annoying, Hermione stood there with an apprehensive look on her face. The woman had blonde hair that was pulled back with a red hair tie. She was about and inch taller than Hermione, and she reminded her of a "Tiffany." Maybe it was the pink shirt and black sports pants with pink stripes going down each side. A pair of white tennis shoes was this woman's footwear.

"Hermione, honey, are you all right?" Hermione's eyes snapped up to her mother's face.

"Sorry, what was that mother?"

"I asked if you were ok. I'm going to go ahead and get going, I'll be back to pick you up in a few hours." With that, Hermione watched her mother go out the door they came in and left her at the mercy of this group of girls…

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"Lying soaked in sweat tonight. Your knuckles white; you try to fight," Harry sang as he played his guitar. He was sitting on futon again, hunched over the instrument, playing a familiar tune. That's what he had been doing today since breakfast: just sitting outside, then he came back inside about an hour ago, playing every song he could think of, and working on some his own songs too. " For chemicals to blind your eyes Wonder can you stay this high When the cells begin to die…Forever…Forever…Forever..," Harry picked up the pace on his guitar and then added a sudden burst of energy for the chorus. "Crush it up, Crush it up…Take it down, Take it down…Smash it up, Smash it up…Falling down…." Harry slowed his pace again and started on the next verse.

Twenty minutes later, Harry found himself once again in the kitchen, looking for a snack. Damn, he was so bored. Sure, he could fiddle around with his guitar for a while, but not all sodding day long. With a sigh as he finished his second banana, Harry headed for the garage to get a ball and then proceeded to the court. After about an hour and a half of shooting hoops, he went inside and put in a movie.

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She was eyeing them uneasily. The woman in the pink, whose name she found out was Tonya, had went into another room. Apparently, she had some paper work that needed done, so Hermione was left with her peers. The all looked so goddamn perky and happy it was nauseating. One of the girls came up to Hermione with a grin plastered on her face. Hermione recognized her immediately, as well as most of the others.

"Well look at who we have here girls, Quad B decided she wanted to try and fit in. Aw, isn't that just the most sweetest and pathetic thing in the world?" Her voice was dripping with sarcasm in a sickly, honey-sweet tone. Hermione felt a slight blush in her cheeks. She thought she would never have to see these girls again, with her attending Hogwarts and all

this year. Oh how wrong she had been. She tried to keep her face emotionless; she tried to tune out her predator's offensive words, but she was in such close proximity with them, she found it hard to concentrate on anything else.

"What? Having a lonely summer and decided to try and make a few friends?" Another girl, Becky, asked in a whiney voice and putting on a baby pout.

"Yeah right, like Quad B could ever have friends! She probably has a book at home all about making friends, but even with all that help, she's still hopeless!" Hermione really wished they would stop calling her that. "Quad B" was another one of her many nicknames from school. It stood for Bushy Buck-toothed Beaver Bitch. Hermione's two front teeth were slightly larger than average, but it was nothing really. They didn't look out of place, but it was something these perfect, blonde, size 5, flawless toothed bullies didn't ever have to put up with.

They were all laughing now. Hermione would never know what could possess people to be so cruel. They were having a nice laugh at her expense. However, she pushed all the hurt it brought out of her mind and squared her shoulders. She knew their taunts. The routine they used to tease and humiliate people they thought were beneath them. Despite the inch difference in height, Hermione still felt as if they towered over her. But why? Why was she letting them get the best of her? She should be fighting back. She should let them know what she thought of them as well. They shouldn't be able to put others down for so long and not face any consequences for their actions.

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'Cause I'm so wired all day
There's someone missing
I keep on struggling
Everyone's kicking me
Back and forth, and I
Think I'm getting tired of everything
Bleed for me

"Bleed" PUDDLE OF MUDD

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"Very clever. Real witty." She began, with a roll of her eyes, and she brought her hands to rest on her hips, trying to look as if she couldn't care less about what they were saying about her. "Kinda funny how you guys can come up with such an intelligent name such as "Quad B"" She had her finger make quotation mark gesture while saying the offensive name for emphasis, "When your gpa isn't even a whole number." The girls stopped their laughing by now and heat rose in their face.

"Why you little-"

However, Hermione didn't stop there, " Little what? Honestly, you could add up all your girls' IQ and multiply it by ten, and you would still get a little south of a quarter of Stacie's bra size!" Hermione said, raising a hand and holding two of her fingers about and inch apart to show them what she meant. Stacie, on of the girls in the crowd, folded her arms across her chest and turned the color or a ripe tomato. Still, Hermione pressed on.

"Funny thing is, guess what; sure you guys may be on top at school, and think everyone is beneath you. You may call me a "freak" and a "geek" or whatever you dunderheads can think up. However, hey, call me a geek in five or ten years when I'm driving around in a brand new car and I have a nice house. Where will you be? Oh, on the corner of Main and 5th Avenue in a short red dress, trying to make a buck. And don't worry; when I drive by, I'll be sure not to wave. You see, last time I checked, even fast food restaurants didn't even hire people with the intelligence of an old shoe!" Hermione stated coolly, keeping all her composure and even letting show a slight smirk.

"Oh yeah? Main and 5th in a little red dress aside, you couldn't get a man to do some much as glance at you even if you danced naked on Broadway! Face the facts, Granger, you're either going to die a virgin, or end up marrying some freak from Mars, but I heard even they have better taste than the likes of you." Sabrina, another girl in the crowd with short blonde hair, came forward; the look in her eyes could melt nails.

Hermione gave a snort. "Hearing voices from Mars, are we now, Sabrina? Tell me something, how are you going to feel when you tell your future husband, that is if you can land one, that you've screwed half the lacrosse team and your chemistry teacher? Oh, and let me know how he takes it when he ends up with some STD like herpes from you and questions how that came about, too. If I get married, at least I will be able to tell him with some pride and dignity that I haven't slept around, which is far more than any you can say." All of them now were looking at her with such a look of loathing, that most people would probably run out the doors, but Hermione still stood her ground. She wasn't a quitter. She waited for the feeling of victory to wash over her. She had just single-handedly put them all down a peg or two; surely, she should feel some sense of triumph to strike her. But it didn't come. Nothing. She couldn't get a feeling of satisfactory when putting them down. Instead, she felt disgusted with herself. How could she stoop down to their level? She didn't feel good at all putting them in their place. She wasn't the kind of person that could get off at others' misery.

"Look, I'm sorry. I may have gone a little too far-" But she was cut off.

"No, you look you little bitch, if I were you, Heaven forbid, I would just watch my step. You are going to get it this year. You can kiss any good things you hoped to experience in your senior year goodbye, because you won't know when or how, but we will get your fucking ass. I've got two words for you chick: dead meat. You mean nothing to anyone at our school," Becky said menacingly. Hermione could tell she was bubbling with anger.

Another girl, Taylor, also wasn't looking too happy. "If you so much as breathe one more word about any of us, "dead meat" won't even begin to describe what's going to happen to you. Like you said, some of us are banging half the lacrosse team, and those boys can get pretty mean when persuaded. And wouldn't it just be tragic if they somehow mistook your head for a lacrosse ball? You are nothing more than an encyclopedia in a skirt." Her eyes never left Hermione's. Ten years of hate was clear in her blue eyes.

They were threatening her. There were a few big guys on the lacrosse team, so Hermione was in dangerous waters. What if somehow she didn't make it to Hogwarts? What if something happened, and she had to attend her senior year? Still, she couldn't show fear.

Hermione remembered that feeling she had gotten when she said all those things just minutes ago. She had actually felt bad? That feeling vanished, and was replaced with determination. Why be cross with these girls now when she was leaving soon? Instead, just tell them what you think and leave it at that, because any insult you throw at them, they will just counter it, and if they can't, then it will just be dismissed.

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My give a damn's busted.

"My Give A Damn's Busted" JO DEE MESSINA

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"You know, if anyone here was a little bitch, that would be all you girls. I haven't done jack to any of you, but you still try to make my life a living Hell. Why do you have to be so cruel to people that are different from you? So what if I like to read? Does that seriously bother you? 'I'm feeling a little fat today, so I think I'm gonna ruin everyone's day.' What, are you so caught up in the pathetic imitations of what you call a life that you lead, that you need to go out of your way just to try to make me miserable? Do you honestly have nothing better to do? News flash girls: Get a bloody life! I just hope that I will never have the misfortune of seeing any of you ever again," And with those last words, Hermione turned around and headed for the door. She bumped into Tonya, the group leader, on her way out as she came to investigate why all the girls were just standing around.

"Hermione, where are you go-" But she was cut off but the door shutting behind Hermione. She tried to ignore the stinging in her eyes as she retraced her route from earlier into this Hellhole. By the time she made it to the lobby, tears were slowly making their way down her cheeks. She met a light drizzle once she got outside. Hermione spotted a coffee shop with a small bookstore connected to it just across the street. Hurrying across the busy traffic, she made it inside by the time the rain started to pick up a bit.

It was a nice little café. Half of it had tables and booths clumped together, and the other was cover wall to wall with bookcases. It was nice; she couldn't ask for a more comforting place.

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She was sitting on a maroon and emerald booth. There was a hole in the seat, and she was picking at it. A cup of hot chocolate was sitting in front of her, getting colder by the minute and a large half-eaten cookie on a napkin next to it. Glancing outside, her spirits didn't lighten at all. It was down right pouring now, nice way to match her mood though. She watched as many vehicles passed on the street, none of them her mother's gray SUV. It felt as if she had been waiting for an eternity when she finally saw cars start arriving in front of the Girls' Club building, and she spotted her mother's SUV. Picking up her hot chocolate and what was left of her cookie, she headed outside onto the wet sidewalk. Waiting on the curb for the traffic to slow, she hurried across the street to the vehicle.

Mrs. Granger looked surprised when she saw her daughter coming from across the street rather than the building. Hermione quickly opened the passenger door and jumped in, wanting to get out of the rain. At first, there was silence. Mrs. Granger put the gear in DRIVE and started down the street.

"So, how was the meeting?" Hermione could almost hear the sarcasm in her mother's voice.

"It was fine. You were right; it was a great experience for me." Hermione responded, looking out the side window as the rain continued to pound consistently to the vehicle, creating a dull sound in the background of their conversation.

"It was fine was it? Do you mind telling me why you were in that café, and not in the building? And don't tell me it was some sort of little field trip over there either, Hermione Jane." Her mother's voice was accusing, and cold.

"I fancied a cup of hot chocolate and a cookie," Hermione told her mother coolly, gesturing to the now soggy cookie and stone cold hot chocolate.

"Don't try to be funny with me, Hermione Jane. What, did you walk out after I left? Did you think I wouldn't be able to tell which direction you came from? Do you really think I'm that stupid?' She was furious, Hermione could tell. Hermione chose to ignore her last few sentences.

"I told you, Mother. It. Was. Fine." She said each word slowly. Her teeth were gritted and she felt her own anger start to build up. Her mother said nothing and drove the rest of the way home in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

As soon as Hermione walked in the house, she started for her room, but her mother stopped her. "You are not getting out of this, young lady. Get your butt back down here."

Hermione made her way back to the kitchen where her mother was. "What?"

"Why were you at the café?"

Still, she wasn't going to quit nagging her. Both of them just stared at each other.

"Look, can we just do this some other time? I've really got some studying to do." Which was true, she needed to study for her Hogwarts Exam.

"No we cannot do this another time. I don't care what you've got to do, we are talking right now." Her mother said shrilly, her dark eyes boring into Hermione's.

"Fine! You want to know what happened? When, before or after they started up the "Quad B" name-calling?"

Her mother gave her a puzzled look. "What B?"

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh, "QUAD B! I guess you aren't too updated on what goes on in high school. It's just one of my many nicknames. "Quad B" it means the four B's: Bushy Buck-toothed Beaver Bitch." Her mother's eyes widened.

"Yea, that's what they call me, Mum. The Bushy Buck-toothed Beaver Bitch. Oh, and let's not forget about "Bushy-Haired-Bookworm" and "No-Life-Granger." So, you want to know what happened after they all started their usual teasing and taunting? When they said I had no friends and rubbed it in my face about how much everyone hates me and loves them? Or do you want to know about when they said no boy would ever like me? That I would die a virgin or end up marrying some freak from Mars if I'm lucky? Oh, what about when they promised to make my life a living Hell this senior year, and they won't back down on that. Sure, I got in a few good comments, but guess what? I can't feel good about saying them, no. I have got to have a bloody conscience and feel completely disgusted with myself! So after my little ending speech, I left alright! I went across the street because if I had spent another minute in there, I think I just might've blown the place up accidentally!" Hermione burst out, letting out all her anger, her sharp and harsh words making her mother's jaw drop and eyes widen the size of saucers.

"Hermione, I never-" But she was cut off, Hermione wasn't finished yet. She knew she shouldn't blame her mother, but there wasn't anyone else for it.

"So thanks, Mum! Like I said, I think you were right, it was such a grand experience for me! I'm so glad you could butt into my life and make my day!" And with that, Hermione stomped up the stairs and into her room. Her mother knocked on the door a moment later. She felt horrible for talking to her mother that way, but she was just so angry and hurt, she couldn't help herself.

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Do you wanna be somebody else?
Are you sick of feeling so left out?
Are you desperate to find something more?
Before your life is over
Are you stuck inside a world you hate?
Are you sick of everyone around?
With their big fake smiles and stupid lies
While deep inside you're bleeding

"Welcome To My Life" SIMPLE PLAN

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She found Hermione lying on her bed, tears stinging her eyes. "Hermione…." She heard her mother sigh as she shut the door and sat on her bad, raking her hand through her daughter's bush of hair. "Hermione…I'm sorry, I had no idea it was that bad. I wish I wouldn't have pushed you into that kind of situation. I…" Hermione looked up at her mother through her tears, which blurred her vision slightly, but she could still make out her mother's frame. The concern etched in her face was evident, and she could almost feel the worry radiating off her mother. "It's my fault, I…it wasn't my place to make you go. I just really wished you would have said something by now." Hermione began picking at a loose string on her violet and green bedding. It was mostly violet, but with green designs. Her mother had made her this quilt for her birthday when she was ten; Hermione could remember how happy she had been then. She had had a nightmare, and her mother told her this would be her special quilt that would fight away any nightmare she would have. It was her safety haven. And ever since she had gotten it, she can't remember ever having another nightmare. She knew it was all psychological, but still, it helped her anyway.

She was jolted back to reality when she felt her mother's hand on her forehead, checking for a fever that wasn't there. "Hermione, dear, are you alright?"

"I…I'm fine, Mum. Just zoned out for a second. Everything…everything is alright, Mum." Her tears had stopped, and after looking up at her mother, it was all alright. It was all passed now. No need to dwell on it. Instead, a nice hot shower sounded just fine, and maybe a hug from her mother. Everything would be all better.

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All the times
That I've cried
All this wasted
It's all inside
And I feel
All this pain
Stuffed it down
It's back again
And I lie
Here in bed
All alone
I can't mend
But I feel
Tomorrow will be OK

"Outside" STAIND

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"So, how was your day, son?" Harry was gazing down at his dinner, and he didn't hear his father's question. "Harry?…Harry!" Harry came out of his reverie and looked up at his parents.

"I asked you how was your day." They both looked at him expectantly.

"What? Oh, um…fine, I guess, I messed around a little with my guitar and played some basketball. Nothing much. You guys?" Harry asked, looking at his parents.

"Nothing really new. The same day-to-day routine." Harry's mother said nonchalantly. "Are you ready for you last year at Hogwarts?" His mother inquired.

"As ready as ever." Harry muttered, pushing his potatoes around with his fork before taking another bite.

"Hopefully, by the end of this year, we can get you signed onto a Quidditch team. I know we talked about Puddlemere United, but I also heard today in the office that Pride of Portree is another excellent beginner Quidditch team as well. I may be able to get a representative from each attend a few games this year, and they just may like what they see." His father continued, pride evident in his voice, talking about one of Harry's dream of going pro on the Quidditch field.

"Sure, whatever you say. It sounds really great." Harry responded, not really in the mood of discussing his future right now. Sure, Quidditch sounded like a great future, and he knew he had the talent, but he was only seventeen. He was Of Age, but still just a teenager at the same time. He didn't want to go rushing off into a career right out of Hogwarts.

His parents both had different dreams for their son. His father, also a lover of Quidditch, wanted Harry to pursue a career on the field. He would make a lot of money, and do something he really enjoyed, so it seemed like a win-win situation. His mother, on the other hand, though she understood her son's passion for the sport, wanted Harry to join the Ministry of Magic for a nice, stable occupation, and even more, one that didn't involve her little boy a hundred feet above the ground on nothing more than a thin stick!

Though he respected both of their dreams for him, Harry still had a few ideas of his own. Being a Quidditch star did sound exciting, and he would get to travel around. But He didn't know if he'd like all the attention and stardom. People would just start expecting things of you. It was something he enjoyed doing immensely at the same time, though. On the other hand, he would be away from home, and if he ever did get married and have a family, he didn't want to be away from his wife and children a lot. A job at the Ministry didn't sound too enthusing, but it would provide him with the luxury of being a family father. Still, Harry had other thoughts too. Saying his music career wasn't a huge hit was an understatement. They had had a few dances at Hogwarts, and Harry and few of his fellow mates would be asked to perform as the band, mixing some Muggle tunes, Wizarding songs, and throwing in a few of their own. They even made a few appearances in Hogsmeade, but nothing concrete, just playing in a pub on an off weekend or something. Their band, if you want to go as far as to call it that, was hit at Hogwarts, but that still didn't get them on Witch Weekly's Most Popular Bands list.

Another thing was Harry's artistic talents. He loved to draw, and did in his spare time. It was something he enjoyed doing, but Harry didn't know if it was something that would be in his future or not. He was pretty great, but was he good enough? Harry sighed. It was all so complicating. He didn't know what in world he wanted to do. He felt too young to be making that kind of decision. His parents weren't real supportive of his music career or pursuing anything in the art field. They told him his band would never make a hit, and art just wasn't appreciated enough to make a lifelong career out of it.

He missed those days when everything was simple and he didn't have to face his parents, having to see their disappointment when he told them he still hadn't decided.

He got up from the table and went to start the dishes, humming an unfamiliar tune, still lost in thought.

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She needed her wand. Her exam at Hogwarts was the following day, and what good would it be, showing up without her wand? She sighed. It was late, her parents were asleep downstairs. As quietly as she could, Hermione tiptoed down the hall to the stairs. Without making a noise, she managed to get to the last few steps. The last step let out a small creak, causing Hermione to freeze. She had no clue what she was doing, but her feet led her to her parents room, as if on their own accord.

The door opened noiselessly, and she crept in as quietly as she could. They were sound asleep on the bed, the moonlight creeping in through the drawn maroon-colored drapes. The deep, maroon carpet silenced her footsteps, as she mad her way closer to the cherry wood dressers on the opposite wall from the door. She didn't know if her wand was even in here, but where else would it be? Her parents were light sleepers, so she knew she didn't want to take up too much time looking around aimlessly when any noise she made could jar them awake from their slumber.

Te dresser was neat, nothing out of order. No dust on it, just a few picture frames and candles. No wand. She turned around to the small entertainment center facing the bed of her parents; maybe they set it on there. A T.V. and a few knick-knacks, along with more pictures. She sighed, then quickly put her hand over her mouth. Turning around to face her parents, she was thankful neither of them awoke. A nightstand was on either side on the bed. Each had their own matching lamp. On her mother's stand, there was a book; her mother liked to read before she went to bed. On her father's, an alarm clock with neon green, luminous digits that told her it was 1:47 in the morning. She eyed the drawer of her father's nightstand. Getting on her knees, she slowly crept closer to the draw, holding her breath. She slowly brought her hand to the handle, and gave a small jerk. Too loud. Her father's snored loudly, twitching at the noise. Her eyes tightly shut, and crouching as low as she could, Hermione waited on a baited breath as her father's snore returned back to normal. Once they were, she peered into the drawer. The moonlight wasn't enough to see in the dark draw. Glancing up at her parents, she shielded the drawer from them with her body, and then whispered a soft, "Lumos." the tip of her wand ignited in a light, and Hermione quickly slipped her hand into the draw and grasped her wand. "Nox." The light vanished, and Hermione pulled out her wand. With a wave of her wand, a replica of it appeared in her other hand. It didn't have magical properties, but it was to keep her parents from knowing about her taking the real one. Replacing it with the phony wand, she softly closed the drawer and crawled back to the door.

She was in her room now, and heaved a sigh of relief. She had her wand, now all she had to worry about was her exam…

+

"What do you mean 'we aren't going to Hogwarts.'?" Hermione said shrilly, her eyes wide with disbelief. "I thought I was going to have my exam today! Did they decide I wasn't good enough? Will they not let me in? What did-" She was cut off with Clarence holding up her hand to silence her. She had just told her they wouldn't be going to Hogwarts today, which was a bit of a shock.

"No dear, instead, we have a visitor, and he will examine your magic ability yourself." She answered calmly.

"He? Who…?" But just then, a man with a long gray beard in plum robes walked in from a door and gave her a small smile. He gazed at her with twinkling blue eyes behind his half-mooned frames.

"Hello, Miss Granger, I am Albus Dumbledore." He said quietly. His voice was soft, but Hermione could tell right away he was a very powerful wizard. Clarence had told her about him on more than one occasion.

She felt her nervousness multiply as he gazed at her, butterflies wreaking havoc on her insides. This was it. This was her chance. She drew out her wand, and stepped forward. "When do we begin?" A small grin making its way onto her features.

"We can get underway whenever you're ready, Miss Granger." Was his response, his eyes still twinkling.

"I'm ready."

"Then we shall begin."

For the next two hours, he tested her over charms and wrist movements. He asked her a little about a charm, and was impressed at the vastness of her knowledge. Clarence had left them alone, not wanting to intrude. So far, Hermione was extremely pleased with herself. They went over a few hexes, but now they were on a break. Sitting at one of the secluded tables, they drank a cup of tea and ate some cookies Clarence had prepared.

"I am quite impressed with your capability of magic. Clarence had told me how extraordinary you were with a wand, but I didn't expect this." He said good-naturedly, looking at Hermione.

She felt a blush creep into her cheeks. "I've…um…Clarence is such a great teacher. I was quite lucky when she agreed to be my mentor. She is the extraordinary one, not me."

"She is quite the witch." He agreed with a chuckle, draining the last of his tea.

The second half of the exam went just as well. She could do anything he through at her, and he was still quite impressed with her. By the end of it all, Hermione felt as if she was on pins and needles with excitement. When he told her she was a shoo in, she was hardly able to contain herself. Clarence had to suffer through one of her huge bare hugs, but she still looked quite pleased. Once he disapparated, Hermione started jumping up and down, doing some jig. She was so happy. Dumbledore's parting words had been that he was delighted about her coming to Hogwarts this year, and excited about this upcoming school year. He told her she had such heightened potential in the magic field, and he hoped she would pursue a career in it in the future.

She couldn't describe the feeling going through her right now, it was indescribable. She racked her brain, in search of another time when she felt this happy, but nothing came. She was going to Hogwarts. Sure, she had already been planning it and knew she was going, but there was still that doubt that lingered, and it still did really. When she was on the train to this new adventurous place, then she could be absolutely positive, but still, she was good enough. Hermione Granger was good enough for this magical school. And better yet, the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was impressed. She was going to Hogwarts!

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*~Archie~*