A/N: Alright, so I've decided that my update time is going to change a bit. Instead of setting a specific date, it'll be between two. Can you guess which ones? That's right! The weekend. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday are the only times I have to write. I started this chapter on Friday night, was gone all Saturday, and finished it up on Sunday. Sorry =[ I really hate that school has limited my writing times. But please, enjoy the story anyways! The plot is starting to move along and will pick up some speed very soon =]
Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine! Neither is Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Draco, Luna-well now I'm depressed.
Enjoy!
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First Impressions Last A Lifetime (Right?)
It had been two days since I wrote the letter.
Throughout the 48 evil-brochure-free hours I had to myself, there was plenty of time to finally start my summer homework. Since this would be the last summer before school for our class, the professors saw fit to overload their eldest students with piles of coursework to be completed before the start of term. It wasn't so bad once I regained consciousness after going over the reading list. Overreacting, you say? Well you get shoved with three textbooks for five subjects to memorize and annotate. Oh and don't forget a six foot long essay accurately summing up each subject. I can picture the founders twitching in their graves right now. They started a school for wizards, not a torture chamber for the young and innocent.
Anyways, back to the point. I had made only a small dent in my Potions textbook when a thought struck me. What if the charm didn't work? It's not as if I doubted Professor Flitwick's ability or anything. But given my history with antisocial tendencies, would the charm recognize that I was incapable of any human communication? I talked with some of my classmates, sure. Sometimes more than I deemed necessary. But I never felt that click of chemistry-that feeling you get when you just know you could talk to that person for hours about nothing and everything. It's depressing, really. The only people I have extended conversations with nowadays are with Crookshanks and my mother. Not that I don't love them both, but it can get quite dull.
I know I'm over-analyzing the situation, but that's just what I do. It's better than being in the dark all the time and never knowing the answers. I can only imagine what that could feel like.
Setting my quill down, I stretched my back and heard a few dull cracks. I caught sight of the green trees outside my window and smiled. The weather outside was sunny with a slight breeze; the perfect weather to take a walk. I looked guiltily down at my work and then back out the window. What to choose? Homework had always been my priority ever since I started primary school. But, then again, so had piano until I quit when I turned nine. Besides, it was a beautiful day out. Who was I to argue with the odds? I had plenty of time to finish up more work when I got back. It wasn't as if I was going to stay outside forever. I never did.
I leapt out of my seat and opened up the middle drawer where I kept my jeans. I pulled on a pair and grabbed a light jacket from one of the posts on my bed. Pocketing my keys just in case and grabbing a Jane Austen novel, I pushed open my door and went downstairs. I smelled the scent of fresh-baked blueberry muffins as I passed the kitchen and stopped in my tracks. Ohhh man. My mum had made muffins for breakfast. Knowing full well that my walk could wait, I followed my nose into the kitchen and saw a dozen steaming blueberry muffins just waiting for me to devour them. You see, when my mum makes muffins, it's hard not to have just one. She makes them from scratch and I swear that each bite is like a little piece of heaven. More times than not, I've eaten the whole batch all by myself. It's a wonder I haven't gotten fat.
I noticed my mum sitting at the table reading as I made a beeline for the island where the muffins were sitting. Oh they looked so good in their paper cups. She even but some icing on top. It's like she knew I was coming.
"Hey mum!" I said brightly as I reached for a muffin.
"Good morning, Hermione." She replied without taking her eyes off of her book.
I ripped off a small bit of a muffin and blew on it slightly before taking a bite. I knew I should wait before eating one but they never tasted nearly as good when they were cool. "I'm going for a walk to the park." I informed her.
She lifted her head from the confines of her James Patterson novel. "Alright sweetie, but don't forget to take your keys with you. Your father and I have a meeting at one."
I pulled out the keys from my pocket and jingled them. "Way ahead of you."
She smiled, "Well be careful."
"Don't worry about me, mum." I reassured. "I can handle myself."
"I know, dear. It's a habit."
I removed the paper cup the muffin was held in and threw it in the nearby waste bin. I took another nibble of the delectable muffin and headed out the door. I knew my father was most likely in the backyard doing something with the pool so I didn't see him on my way out. You see, our pool was like his baby. Since our entire neighborhood had one, he made it his mission to make ours the best. So far he had it lined in white marble, added a diving board, had an adjoined whirlpool installed, put in underwater lights that faded into different colors, and a long slide. We also had a small pool house and cabana where we held our pool toys, volleyball net, and drinks for when we were entertaining.
Obsessed? You betcha. But I loved my dad and it was nice that he had a hobby. Oh, and the money to make it happen. That was always a good thing. If it weren't for my parent's dentist practice in downtown London, we would have been in debt years ago. Not to sound conceded or anything. The last thing I wanted was to flaunt off my parent's status. It would just earn me a following of people who didn't like me for me-but for my parent's money.
I shut the door behind me and made my way down our short driveway, still thoroughly enjoying my muffin's blueberry goodness. I reached the sidewalk and turned left towards where the park was. It was only a few minutes' walk from my house. I remember when I was younger I used to go there all the time with my parents. I would play there for hours with my parents sitting on the bench and looking at me as though I were the only child on the swing set. Which, more times than not, I was. But no need to feel sorry for me. I work better when I'm alone, remember?
As I walked down the street and saw the familiar houses of the neighborhood I grew up in, I forgot how much I missed home. Hogwarts always occupied my every thought when I was there. I never even spared a moment to think about my parents half the time. I loved them dearly, and they knew that, so when I didn't write or come home for the holidays, they understood. I was blessed to have them. Usually the only reason I stayed at Hogwarts was to study for the upcoming exams. But there were other reasons as well. I absolutely loved Hogwarts in the winter so much that I could never bring myself to leave. Sometimes I would just go outside in my warmest clothes and just spin in the falling snowflakes.
Goddamn it. I'm such a sap.
Luckily I reached the park moments later. As I walked up to the play set, I saw my favorite spot atop the wooden castle was open and resisted the urge to climb up there. I came out here to be outside, not cooped up inside some castle like some princess with no morals or sense of self-defense. That's probably the reason I never got into most Disney princess movies-I was always too busy criticizing their decisions and lack of a brain. Especially Cinderella. Everyone knows the fairy godmother did all the work.
I found a bench strategically placed half in the shade and half in the sun. I sat on the sunny side and opened my book, Sense & Sensibility. I always brought fiction novels for times like these. A girl can only do homework for so long before needing to escape. Some chose boys, I chose novels. Easy as pie. Besides, boys took up too much time. With books, you can choose when to stop quite easily-with boys, it's a whole other story. How do I know this? Well, that's a story for another time. Because the moment my mind drifted to the past, a loud POP sounded near me. My whole body lurched literally five feet in the air. I looked frantically around for the source of the noise, afraid it was a gun, or worse, someone apparating in a Muggle-infested park. My heartbeat was so loud; I swore it was going to jump out of my chest and onto the grass in front of me. My quick search around the nearby parameter was unsuccessful and I put a hand on my chest to try and steady my heartbeat. I knew it would do nothing to help, but I was too startled to care about proper techniques. All around me, people were unperturbed by the noise as if something like that happened every day. Or they didn't hear it at all.
Oh Merlin, I was going crazy.
I removed my hand from my chest to punch my book in frustration, but another noise stopped me before I could touch it. It was a good thing, too. How on earth could I ever punch a book? It's criminal! The noise was a high screeching that I could recognize anywhere. An owl. There was an owl in the park. Ohmygod.
I knew it came from behind me so I turned and had to put my hand over my mouth not to scream. It was right next to me. I removed my hand from my mouth a moment later and let out a breath. It was the most beautiful owl I had ever seen-snow white with deep golden eyes that felt as though they were penetrating into my very soul.
"Wow." I said in a breathy whisper.
I unconsciously reached foreword to stroke its feathers and was shocked when it didn't retaliate by biting me or flying away. It just sat there and leaned into my touch slightly. Wow. I was so mesmerized by this creature that I didn't notice the letter tied to its leg. I only realized it was there when it lifted its leg to shove it in my face. And I mean that quite literally. The note, thanks to the height of the bench's back, was shoved into my mouth. Thankfully, my mouth was closed and the only thing that happened to the letter was that it got crumpled a bit. Crisis averted.
I grabbed the parchment and checked the back for a return address. There was none. That's odd. I looked at the owl and I swear that it shrugged. I brushed it off as just a trick of the eyes and opened the letter. Dear Anonymous…
My pen-pal! I'm not a hopeless case after all! I quickly began reading the letter:
Dear Anonymous,
Hi. It's safe to say that you're not alone in that respect. Our school these past few years has become a superstitious madhouse full of fakes and wannabe's. Why can't everyone just accept who they are and not what they assume they're supposed to be? There must be something in the pumpkin juice. -I laughed quietly- All I know is that the people I'm surrounded by, save for a few, are only there because of who I am. It's quite annoying, actually. So yes, I am definitely interested in a friendship not ruled by names and ranks. Personality is the key. Oh gods, now I sound like Dumbledore. Fantastic. And don't apologize for a bad joke. I don't think anyone is perfect in that respect. I found it funny, therefore, you're fine. -I smiled- So I think one of us should start a conversation that doesn't have to do with formalities. Let's see… How is your summer homework going? Is it just me or do all of the professors suddenly hate us?
Sincerely,
Joe Bloggs
I put the letter down and smiled. I liked this person already.
I looked back at the owl and saw it staring straight ahead, as though its eyes were trained on prey. My brow furrowed and I turned towards where she was looking. My blood ran cold. There, not even ten meters away, was a posse I did not feel like dealing with right now. Ever since primary school this group of girls had been pestering me, trying to get an emotional response-I called them the Plastic Clones. Each one of them looked exactly like the other. They were all wearing some form of pink and had on heels that looked as though they would snap at any moment under the right amount of pressure. Maybe if three of them got on top of each other like circus performers. They were at least eighty pounds apiece, so it shouldn't be that difficult.
I knew they were honing in on me the moment I made eye contact with the leader, Amber Freeman. Her eyes were the color of icicles and her hair looked as though she had bleached it a little too much to be considered healthy. The skirt she was wearing shouldn't even be categorized as clothing for someone of her age. It looked more like something a three-year-old would wear in the sandbox-or a lady of the night on her corner.
"Her-my-on-kneeeeee!" She drew my name out as if I was on one of those cheesy game shows my grandmother watched.
"Amber." I regarded her coolly. I eyed the rest of her cronies and nodded at each one of them "Stephanie, Danielle, Amy, Suzanne."
They all regarded me with the same cool manor. Well, except for Amber, who was still grinning like an idiot. "How have you been?" she asked.
"Fine."
"And how's that boarding school-Pigpimples?"
"Hogwarts." I corrected, "And it's fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some reading to do."
I picked up my book and strategically hid the note a few pages ahead. They gave themselves…
"Aww don't be like that, Herms." Amber said sweetly.
"Don't call me Herms." I said without looking up from my book. I hated that nickname with a passion ever since my Aunt Midge called me it while I was on her lap one Christmas and pinched my cheeks until they were numb. Oh what a precious childhood I had.
Her voice turned snappy. "I can call you whatever I please, Herms."
I narrowed my eyes and looked up at her dangerously. "Do you really want to start with me, Amber?"
"Well… yeah." She said in a well-no-shit tone, "What are you going to do, hit me with your book?"
The clones laughed and I simply rolled my eyes. They really expected me to use a book as a weapon? I swear these girls got dumber with age. I heard the mysterious owl hoot behind me as if to say "Bring it on, Blondie."
It seemed that the Barbie's didn't notice the owl behind me until now. Score one for them.
"What a cute pidgin!" Suzanne cooed.
"It's not a pidgin, it's an eagle." Amy corrected.
"It is not. It's a pidgin."
"Eagle."
"Pidgin!"
"Eagle!"
"Pidgin!"
"Eagle!"
"Oh my god, it's an owl!"
They all looked at me with their heads tilted and noses scrunched. "Huh?"
"An owl. You know… hoot hoot." As if to emphasize my point, the owl hooted.
"Ohhhhhh." They chorused.
"I think I just lost a dozen brain cells…" I mumbled while rubbing my temples.
"What did you say?" Stephanie asked.
"Listening to you people is like going to a kegger filled with a bunch of drunken sorority girls."
"Is that supposed to be an insult?" Amber said in a dark tone.
"What else would it be, an invitation to tea?" Before I could react, Amber grabbed my book from my lap. "Hey! Give that back!"
"No." She said, fingering the pages idly. "I think I'll keep it. Beef up my intelligence."
"Good luck with that." I said sourly. She could keep the book for all I cared. All I wanted was my letter. Oh my god, my letter. It was still in the book!
And just like that, the letter fell onto the ground. I held my breath, praying they didn't notice it. Amber continued to flip through the pages as the other sniggered behind her. It was only a few inches away from my foot. If only I could reach it… what am I talking about? Of course I can reach it. I edged my foot a few inches foreword as they all hovered around my book. Only a few more inches… come on… come on… aha! Got it!
I quickly pulled my foot back and pushed the letter beneath the bench so that shadows could provide as cover. Now all I had to do was get the book back from their overly priced, manicured fingers. I was just getting to the best part and could not afford to explain to my mother why one of her prized books suddenly went missing.
"Alright Posh Spice, give me my book back."
"Are you deaf, Granger? I'm-keeping-it."
"Over my dead body." I said warningly as I got up from my seat on the bench and stomped up close to Amber and her overly made up face.
"Excuse me. Personal bubble." She motioned to the air around her and nearly slapped me in the face-which would have been appropriate seeing as how listening to her nasally voice made me want to do that to myself.
"Easy, I'll just take your needle-point shoe and pop it."
"Like hell you will!" Amber said, her face growing pink. "These cost me three-hundred pounds!"
"You or your daddy's credit card?"
"Her daddy's credit card of-" Amy started.
Amber put a hand up, which apparently meant to stop. It looked more like she was signaling an approaching car to halt. "Regardless. You are not going to touch my shoes."
"You sure about that?" I knew that I couldn't use magic in front of them, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't take them off the old fashioned way.
As I opened my mouth to tell her that I was sure, I heard a rustling behind me. It was the owl that had been quietly nestled on the bench, ruffling its wings and looking as though it was about to attack. I heard a few sharp intakes of breath behind me and couldn't help feeling slightly frightened myself. Its wings opened up and spanned what seemed to be two feet. But before I could get too freaked out, it winked at me. That's right, winked. But no matter how bizarre that was, I trusted my instinct. I nodded my head at the sneaky owl and it took off from its perch on the bench to fly at the group of cowering teenagers. They all screeched as a whole and I couldn't help at laugh at their terrified faces as I followed the owl's path in the sir above them. Amber threw my book in the air as she led the pack away from the owl, which was now hovering over them and pecking just close enough to be believable. I caught the paperback and watched as it led them halfway across the park. Even after it stopped chasing them, they continued to run to the outer borders of the fence. You would think they were being mugged the way they were flapping about. Ahh, well. I had no complaints.
The owl flew back smoothly and landed on my shoulder. I looked up at it with a smirk and said with a sigh "They didn't even say goodbye…" The owl rubbed its head against mine affectionately and I petted it fondly. "Thank you. You did an impeccable job."
It hooted in response and I figured now was as good of a time as any to head back home. My book was as good as ruined for the day and there was still a huge pile of books and essays that needed to be finished plus a new response letter that was looking more and more appealing to start.
When I reached my house a few minutes later with the owl still on my shoulder, I saw that my mum's car was missing and there was a small note on the front door informing me that they left early to catch brunch. I fished the keys out of my pocket and unlocked the front door. I closed the door softly behind me and crumpled up the note in my hands. I threw it into a nearby waste bin and crossed my arms idly. I wasn't sure what to do with the owl now that we were inside. My parents would probably go ballistic if they ever found out. Not to mention Crookshanks, who was taking a nap on the parlor room couch.
Well, what they don't know won't hurt them.
I walked upstairs to my room and only then did the owl fly off my shoulder. It flew over to Crookshanks' scratching post in the corner next to my desk. I smiled and sat down, looking for something to give the poor owl. Who knows how far its journey was? I don't know if it would like Crookshanks' treats or not, so I grabbed one along with a carrot from a plate I was nibbling off of earlier. I held out the cat treat and it stuck its beak up slightly in disgust. I knew I would have done the same, so I didn't scorn it and fed it the carrot instead. It liked that much better. I loved Crookshanks, but his taste in food was just terrible. I mean, sardine and artichoke-flavored cat treats? Just thinking about the combination made me cringe.
As it worked on the carrot, I grabbed some parchment from my school trunk and a quill with blue self-inking pen I bought at Weasley Wizarding Wheezes in Diagon Ally. I may not like the two youngest of their family, but I always had a respect for the twins when they went to Hogwarts. Even if I gave them one too many detentions for testing their products on the gullible first and second years. They were the most successful businessmen I knew-and they did it all by following their dreams and coming into quite a large sum of money to do so. I never questioned that, but I've always wondered…
I started the letter knowing exactly what I wanted to write.
Dear Joe Bloggs,
I'm glad to hear we're on the same page. I'm also sorry that you feel that way about the people who call themselves your "friends". That's part of the reason I don't associate with many people. They either use you or hurt you. But enough of my bitter melodramatics. That homework is insane! I usually don't mind the regular amount of coursework the professor's give us during the school year but my Merlin, what happened? It's as though they want us to fail our final year. I've barely made a dent in my homework and this pen-pal thing isn't helping. Just joking. See? I didn't demean my joke! I think I'm making progress. How about you? Have you gotten any done? And I really have to ask: What's the name of your owl? I don't even know if it's a boy or girl! But that's probably just me wanting to respect its privacy. But it really is a spectacular creature. You're very lucky.
Sincerely,
Anonymous
Feeling satisfied with the letter, I folded it accordingly and wrapped another piece of string around it. I turned towards the owl to see if it was done with its snack and saw looking at me with a pointed look. I hope it wasn't waiting long for me to finish. Look at me, feeling sorry for keeping an owl waiting. How caring.
I handed the letter to the owl and it took it with a small nip to my finger. I pulled back slightly and looked to see if it left a mark. It didn't. When I turned back to the owl, it was gone. What a way to make an exit. But I knew I would be seeing it again soon and would have a name to call it by then. It just seemed so derogatory. But one can't help it if they can't tell the gender. I'll just let my new pen-pal tell me.
Oh, my new pen-pal.
They had only sent me one letter and I was already feeling a connection with them. Even though we are in two completely different situations, I can still relate. It seemed as though their "friends" were really missing out. But who knows? Even though the first impression had been made, it could always change. They could turn out to be a total jerk and totally screw me over. That's usually what friends do anyway. Screw you over. But that's all in the past. I'll have time to wallow in my self pity later. For now, I have work to start on. Forget about Joe Biggs for a few hours.
Oh who am I kidding? I can't.
This is going to be a very interesting summer.
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