Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this. I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit.
Note One: A big thanks to the_scribbler for being my awesomesauce beta/editor!
Note Two: Hello again! I'm so happy to meet you guys here on Her Story CHAMBER OF SECRETS!!
THESE STORIES CAN BE READ ALL TOGETHER OR ON THEIR OWN! Of course as we get on in years, there will be things that will be brought up again, but I'll try to make it so people who haven't read Her Story (though you SHOULD because you're AWESOME) can still understand what's going on.
We'll be getting into the good stuff in just a moment; I just want to remind everyone reading of one very important thing:
We will be pretending that the last Harry Potter movie comes out in 2016. And it shall happen because I say so. Get it? Got it? Good. Now, onwards!
7 August, 2016
Lindsay Homer groaned, feeling the delicious strain in her muscles as she stretched. Yawning, she slumped down over the counter, twirling a pen in her hands. The bookshop she worked at, Just Imagine, was having an extremely slow day and it was taking everything Lindsay had not to fall asleep.
It also didn't help that she and another co-worker, Karen Lays, had been at the shop until two in the morning the previous night. Lindsay and Karen had been secretly staying after hours for the past month now, reading a stack of journals entitled `Her Story.' Lindsay had found the journals a month ago when they had been forced to clean up the back room after a large pile of boxes tumbled over and made a mess of the place. Lindsay found the stack of sixteen journals when she went looking for more boxes.
The journals were unique in many ways. They certainly didn't look new, and had a look like they had been well used. Even if it was the new look for journals, they weren't wrapped in plastic, nor did they have a barcode. A few of the journals had a handwritten, elaborate title that was scratched out. On all the journals were the words `Her Story' and then a number to accompany the journal.
Surprisingly enough, those reasons weren't why the stacks of books were unique.
The most intriguing part of the journals was Lindsay and Karen could only get Her Story: 1.1 open. The journals were all sealed the same way, a silk string binding them. But no matter how hard they pulled or pried; only the first journal could be opened.
Inside of the journal was something that was even stranger. A handwritten note, explaining that the journals were meant to be part of a companion series and the author had taken the story on a path of its own. The note explained the journals contained the true story and was signed H.J.
At first Lindsay and Karen joked around, suggesting that the letter could be from the shop owner Jeanine Potter or, from the Harry Potter world, Hermione Granger. But then the girls spent their first evening reading the first chapter of the journal, and things began to get weird.
The journals were a handwritten story from Hermione Granger's point of view. It went through her home life, to finding out she was a witch, and the events that happened at Hogwarts. And it wasn't like a replica of the original Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, either. New characters were introduced, and scenarios that didn't happen in the real book happened in the journal.
Needless to say, Lindsay and Karen had no idea what to think. They toyed with the idea of telling Mrs. Potter (or Mrs. P as they liked to call her) but then decided against it. The temptation of reading the journals was too great for the two girls, and ever since they've been hiding in the staff room after the shop closed up to read Hermione's tale. Since then, they began to feel obsessed with reading the journals. It was on Lindsay's mind constantly, and she just had to know what happened next, even though she read the original Harry Potter books so many times she could recite them by heart.
Then something strange happened. They had gotten to the end of the first journal and went to open the second one. As they predicted, there was no resistance when they opened the second journal up. Lindsay had sneakily done it in the back room when it was just her and Mrs. P working. What she didn't expect was the reaction from Mrs. P.
Lindsay had returned to the shop floor to see Mrs. P staring off into space. Mrs. P was a middle aged woman who took her work very seriously, so to see her zoning out was something that didn't happen very often. It took Lindsay a few tries to get Mrs. P's attention, and when she did, Mrs. P gave a violent reaction.
Mrs. P became so distraught she spent the rest of the afternoon in the staff room, crying.
Since then, Mrs. P has gone back to normal. But Lindsay has caught her zoning out occasionally. It really did worry Lindsay; Mrs. P worked really hard and she didn't want the stress of running a bookshop to be a hazard to her health.
The bell above the door jingled, snapping Lindsay out of her thoughts. An elderly woman entered the shop and Lindsay hopped down from her stool, happy to finally have something to do.
While Lindsay was helping the elderly lady, the bell above the door rang again and Mrs. P came walking into the shop. Lindsay gave a happy little wave from across the room. Mrs. P smiled softly and waved back, before heading into the back room. Lindsay turned back to the lady, who was trying to find books to get her grandson into reading.
"Has he read the Harry Potter series?" Lindsay asked, grinning.
"He's seen the movies, but not the books," the woman responded.
"Buy him the first two and I guarantee he'll be hooked on reading," Lindsay said, going to where the Harry Potter series were. She grabbed the first two books and handed them to her. "My dad did that for me when I was a child and he couldn't get me to put down a book afterwards."
Lindsay rang the elderly lady through and handed her the brown paper bag, grinning from ear to ear. Mrs. P came out of the back room as the woman left the shop.
"What's with the smile?" she asked, going behind the counter and clocking in.
"I think I just turned another unsuspecting youth onto the magic that is Harry Potter," Lindsay responded, grinning. "That's what I love about this job: I can push people into reading books I like."
Mrs. P started laughing and patted Lindsay on the shoulder, "Oh, dear, you're special."
"Hey!" Lindsay said, laughing as well. "That's rude, you know."
"I'm the owner of this shop, dearie, I'm allowed to be rude."
Lindsay rolled her eyes and grabbed a duster as Mrs. P went in the staff room. Lindsay busied herself with dusting the shop, it was clean but she just felt bad for standing around doing nothing when Mrs. P was around.
Mrs. P came out of the staff room about five minutes later with a book in her hand. Lindsay's heart stopped and she froze what she was doing, staring at Mrs. P's hand in horror.
In her hand was the very journal Lindsay and Karen had finished last night.
Lindsay cursed to herself, she couldn't believe they had forgotten to put away the journal after they finished. She watched in anticipation as Mrs. P put the journal onto the counter and made her way over to Lindsay.
"Is that your journal?" Mrs. P asked kindly.
"Y-yes," Lindsay squeaked, feeling herself begin to perspire.
"You know that I encourage reading and writing, but all I ask is for you to clean up after yourself," Mrs. P said, walking back to the counter. Lindsay followed, feeling shaky. "Just make sure to put your things back into your purse or locker when you're working."
"Yes, Mrs. P," she replied, taking the journal back. "I'm sorry."
"There's no need to apologize," Mrs. P said, waving Lindsay off. "I just knew that was a journal and didn't want you to go through the embarrassment of having Karen read it."
Lindsay gave a strained giggle and hurried into the staff room, opening her locker and shoving the journal into it. She closed the locker and then leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. That had been way too close a call.
Lindsay recomposed herself and hurried out back into the shop, not wanting to draw suspicion to herself. Mrs. P was sitting up by the counter, writing something out on a clipboard and dabbing her nose with a tissue.
"Are you sick?" she asked, coming around and leaning on the counter. Mrs. P did look a lot paler than usual.
"I just have a little summer cold," Mrs. P responded, not looking up from her notes, "Nothing to be worried about."
"Just be careful not to work yourself too hard," Lindsay warned. She grabbed a spray bottle and a rag and went to the windows to clean them.
Mrs. P's cold got progressively worse as the day wore on. By the end of Mrs. P's shift, her eyes were puffy and she had a constant nasally voice. Lindsay shooed her home, making sure to tell Mrs. P to stay home the next day if she needed more rest.
As soon as Mrs. P was out of the shop, Lindsay bolted into the staff room and grabbed the journal, bringing it out in the shop with her. It was near closing time and the shop had gone back to the way it was that morning: extremely slow.
The bell jingled and Karen pranced into the shop, holding up a bag of Chinese takeaway. "Are you ready to start Chamber of Secrets?" she asked, bouncing to the counter.
"Guess what we forgot to do last night," Lindsay said in greeting, holding the journal up and waving it back and forth.
Karen's eyes went wide and she gasped. "No," she breathed, drawing out the word, "don't tell me we forgot?"
"We forgot and Mrs. P found it," Lindsay said placing the journal onto the counter. "Luckily she thought it was my journal, but that was still too close for comfort."
"I can't believe we forgot to put it away," Karen groaned, her happy demeanour fading. "What did she say?"
Lindsay told Karen everything Mrs. P had told her, ending with, "We're lucky we haven't been caught yet. It's only a matter of time until we are."
"Do you think she'd be mad at us if she ever found out?" Karen asked. The clock struck six and she walked over, locking the door and flipping the `open' sign to `closed.'
"I don't know," Lindsay said slowly. "I wouldn't think so… but something tells me this would make her pretty angry."
Karen shuddered and grabbed the journal, heading to the back room to swap it for the next one. Lindsay shook her head and began to close up the shop, wondering why they were risking losing their jobs to read a book. This wasn't the first time she had had a thought like that.
Karen returned just as Lindsay was finishing up. Lindsay grabbed the bag of takeaway and turned off the lights as Karen led the way to the staff room. Karen had taken a liking to reading from the journal and Lindsay didn't mind. Karen was an excellent story-teller and it was very entertaining to watch her play the characters.
Lindsay pulled the food out of the bag as Karen delicately opened up the journal. She grinned when the string gave no resistance and plopped down into the chair, grabbing a chicken ball and stuffing it into her mouth.
"I think we may have to bring these journals with us sometime, Linds," she said, chewing loudly.
"Chew, swallow, then talk," Lindsay reminded rolling her eyes.
Karen made an exaggerated show of swallowing. "I'm just saying these books are only going to get better from here on out," she said, grabbing another chicken ball and popping it into her mouth. "I don't think I can handle having to read only a few hours at a time."
"We'll see," Lindsay relented, grabbing a paper plate and filling it up with food.
"I'm wearing you down," Karen grinned. She put the journal aside and began to fill her own plate up. "Do you think this journal will be shorter? Most of the action happened when Hermione was petrified."
"I don't know," Lindsay shrugged. "Maybe something goes on in Hermione's point of view while she's petrified?"
"How can something go on while she's petrified?" Karen asked, rolling her eyes. "To be petrified means to turn to stone or be paralyzed with a strong emotion."
"Okay, Webster," Lindsay snarked. "It was just a suggestion."
"What I want to see is Hermione being girly and fancying Lockhart," she cackled. "J.K. Rowling's Hermione was so rarely girly. I really hope this goes in a different direction."
"Hermione? Girly?" Lindsay laughed. "That's not in her personality, Karen. I don't think she'll ever be girly."
"It was just a suggestion," Karen mocked. Lindsay rolled her eyes. The girls quickly finished eating and cleaned up their area. Once everything was put away, Karen hopped onto the sofa with the journal open. Lindsay snuggled into the cushions and let Karen take it away.
26 July, 1992
Hermione Granger ducked her head, covering her mouth as she tried to stifle the loud yawn that came from her. She quickly wiped away the tears the yawn induced and glanced up, seeing that her mother was giving her a disapproving look. The twelve year old straightened up and hurried to her younger sister Viola, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the shop.
"Hermione," her mother, Jane, began, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder, "what did I tell you about staying up so late?"
"I didn't stay up late," Hermione lied, trying to look as innocent as possible.
"I saw your light on when I went to the bathroom last night," Mrs. Granger replied immediately, giving her daughter a knowing look. "It was half-past two in the morning. Mind telling me why you were up so late?"
"I was reading," Hermione admitted after a moment, sighing.
"Darling, you can't stay up until the middle of the night reading," Mrs. Granger chastised. Viola, sensing a lecture coming on, scampered out of Hermione's grasp and over to where their father was browsing different sets of china. Hermione huffed and resisted rolling her eyes, she had gotten so used to being at her school - a place where as long as she was in her common room, she could stay up as long as she wanted - that she had forgotten her parents had rules. The entire month had gone by with her struggling to not be allowed to read as late as she wanted to.
"I'm sorry, mum," Hermione said softly, glancing down.
"It's okay, Hermione," Mrs. Granger said, leading them over to where Viola and Mr. Granger were standing. "Remember that I'm just thinking of what's best for you. All that reading without proper lighting will ruin your eyes - and that doesn't mean you can read as long as you want if you make your room brighter," she added before Hermione could respond. "These rules have been in place before you went to Hogwarts and your father and I still expect you to follow them."
"Yes, mum," Hermione flushed, feeling properly chastised.
Hermione followed closely behind as her family began to go around the shop. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were set on looking for a house-warming gift for Hermione's aunt and uncle and instead of allowing Hermione to babysit so the two children could stay home, they decided it would be a family affair.
It wasn't like spending time with her family was strenuous for Hermione - she loved her mother, father, and younger sister with all her heart. But when Hermione was picked up from King's Cross Station at the end of the school year, she felt a noticeable change with how much she could interact with her family.
Hermione didn't attend any normal boarding school; she attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. From September to June, Hermione was at the school in northern Scotland (with Christmas and Easter holidays in between) with other young witches and wizards, being taught how to survive in the magical world. It was at Hogwarts where Hermione's eyes were opened. Before Hogwarts, Hermione saw the world as it was presented to her. She was brought up on her father's belief of if it doesn't have a logical explanation then it isn't possible to exist. But at school - a place where she can magically change a matchstick into a needle with a flick of her wand - the philosophy she grew up on flew out the window.
Hermione could tell that fact alone caused a bit of a rift between her and her parents. Both of her parents were extremely smart and successful, and Hermione could tell from their expressions when she was telling them about her classes and friends, that they just couldn't understand what she was talking about.
Luckily, Hermione's neighbour and fellow Hogwarts student, Sally-Anne Perks seemed to be going through the exact same thing. The two girls both came from non-magical families and had expressed how they were feeling to each other shortly after returning home for the summer. Hermione was glad she had a friend there to remind herself that Hogwarts wasn't a dream. She couldn't imagine how she would've felt if she had to be isolated from all things magic.
"Minny, did you get in trouble?" Viola whispered, looking fearfully up to her sister.
"No, I didn't get into trouble," Hermione responded, smiling.
"Good," Viola breathed. "Because remember, you promised to read Hogwarts, A History to me when we get home."
"Vi, you've already read Hogwarts, a History a few times," Hermione reminded, rolling her eyes.
"So have you," the nine-year-old deadpanned, "and that doesn't stop you from reading it."
"She's got you there, love," Mr. Granger chuckled, wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulder and pulling her into his side.
"Alright, alright," Hermione laughed, flinching as her father tickled her sides, "we'll read when we get home."
Viola could hardly contain her excitement after Hermione made her promise. She grabbed the first set of china she could reach and thrust it into her mother's arms, demanding they get their aunt and uncle that set. Mrs. Granger was hesitant as she looked it over, pointing out little flaws in the pattern to Mr. Granger.
"This is going to take forever," Viola whined.
"Uncle Robert and Aunt Mary have very… elaborate tastes," Hermione said quietly so her parents wouldn't hear.
"If they're really family they'll like whatever we get them," Viola grumbled, crossing her arms stubbornly.
"Viola!" Hermione sputtered, choking back a laugh.
"I'm just saying," she shrugged.
It took an hour for Mr. and Mrs. Granger to pick out a set of china for Hermione's aunt and uncle. Viola cheered and reminded her parents quite loudly that they had promised the whole ordeal would only take a half hour, much to the amusement of the other shoppers. Hermione kept quiet but couldn't help agreeing with her younger sister. She couldn't understand how her parents could spend that much time deciding whether or not they should buy a few plates with a simple pattern on them.
As soon as they got home, Viola bolted up to Hermione's room and grabbed the now worn copy of Hogwarts, A History. Hermione shook her head and went to go sit on the sofa in the living room, Viola skipping excitedly behind her.
Her little sister had almost an obsession with the magical world and was convinced she would be going to go to Hogwarts in a couple years. Hermione learned it was best not to say anything about it quickly. Whenever she told Viola there was only an extremely small chance she was a witch, the little girl would throw a huge tantrum that usually involved something being thrown.
Hermione settled down and opened up to the page she left off the previous night. She knew Viola wouldn't care if she didn't start at the beginning, so she told her sister they were starting with the founders of Hogwarts and began to read about Godric Gryffindor. Viola listened with rapt attention, leaning on Hermione's arm and hanging onto her every word as she finished the chapter.
"Chapter Seven, Salazar Slytherin," Hermione began, trying to keep her voice neutral. The students from Slytherin were some of the most rotten people Hermione had ever met but she didn't want to ruin her sister's vision of the school. "The exact date to when Salazar Slytherin was born is still unknown, but it is believed he was born sometime during the tenth century. In fact, most of Slytherin's early life before the foundation of Hogwarts is unknown. What is known about him is he was a very proud man who prided himself in being a pure-blooded wizard, skilled in the art of Legilimency, and being a Parselmouth."
"What are those?" Viola asked, glancing over at the portrait of Slytherin. "He looks mean."
"I'm not sure what they are," Hermione said. Legilimency had an asterisk and a tiny blurb in the index on what it meant. She cleared her throat and read it off, "Legilimency is the act of magically navigating through the many layers of a person's mind and correctly interpreting one's findings. A person who practises this art is known as a Legilimens. Laymen sometimes refer to Legilimency as mind-reading, but practitioners disdain this term as naive. The opposite of Legilimency is Occlumency, which may be used to shield one's mind from the invasion and influence of a Legilimens."
"So Slytherin was a mind-reader?" Viola gasped, her eyes wide. "That is wicked! I want to be in Slytherin!"
"No, you don't," Hermione said immediately, shaking her head. "Trust me, they aren't a nice lot."
"Oh," Viola pouted. "Well, what does a Parselmouth mean, then?"
"I'm not sure on that, either," Hermione replied. There was no asterisk by the name and she quickly scanned the rest of the page, hoping to find more. She flipped the page and let out a little `aha' when she spotted it near the top of the first paragraph. "To be a Parselmouth, Vi, is an extremely rare gift that allows a witch or wizard to be able to talk to… snakes…"
Hermione let herself trail off, her eyes going wide.
Viola started hissing and giggled, "Do you think I said anything, Minny?"
Hermione wasn't listening, however. She began tearing through the pages, scanning them quickly for anything more on being a Parselmouth. To her disappointment, she couldn't find anything and sat back with a huff.
That little passage sent Hermione's mind reeling. She had witnessed Harry Potter, one of her best friends, speaking to a snake a year ago before she even knew about Hogwarts. Both Hermione and Harry's families had been at a zoo and, after overhearing him hissing to a boa constrictor, the glass keeping the snake encaged disappeared.
Hermione shuddered, remembering the icy feeling she had gotten when she witnessed the whole thing. She had actually forgotten about it when she went to Hogwarts, not recognizing Harry until his relatives came to pick him up at King's Cross Station. She tried to not let it bother her, it was Harry after all and he was one of the nicest boys one could meet. But there was a part of her, in the back of her mind, that kept whispering to Hermione that Harry was dangerous. She'd quickly smother that thought whenever it surfaced, but it just wouldn't go away.
So Hermione sent Harry a letter.
In her letter, Hermione explained she recognized him from the zoo the summer before Hogwarts and casually mentioned the snake incident. She figured the glass vanishing was a part of the untrained magic festering inside of Harry and wanted to see what his explanation of the hissing would be. She sent the letter a few weeks ago and received nothing back.
Hermione began to worry she offended Harry somehow, and sent another letter apologizing and asking how his summer was going. That was sent last week and still no response from Harry. Hermione's other friend Ron Weasley wasn't having any luck getting a response from Harry either, nor was Fay Dunbar or Shae Bevern.
A loud thunk made Hermione and Viola jump. Hermione looked up and saw a slight smudge on the window and went to it, opening it up and looking out. She gasped, Ron's owl Errol was lying in a heap in the flower bed beneath the window. Hermione scrambled out of the house and to the poor owl, her heart sinking when it didn't move. Viola poked her head out of the window, took one look at the owl and began to cry.
"Vi, it's okay," Hermione said, gingerly picking Errol up. Her heart soared when he opened a bleary eye and gave a feeble hoot. "He's alive, see? Go get a bowl of water and some bread crumbs."
"Okay," Viola sniffed, disappearing back into the house.
Hermione stood up, keeping Errol close to her chest, and went back into the house. Mrs. Granger clicked her tongue once she saw the owl, leading Hermione into the kitchen. The kitchen table had a few old towels positioned as a makeshift bed and Hermione gently laid Errol down.
"I don't know why they keep sending this poor owl," Mrs. Granger muttered, bringing the bowl of water and placing it next to Errol's head. Errol gave a hoot of thanks and slowly began to drink. "It's obvious he can't handle long trips."
Hermione quickly untied the letter from Errol's leg and opened it up.
How can you ask me about homework already? It's not even August yet! Don't worry I'll get to it eventually and you'll always help me if I need it, right? Just kidding… sort of. Anyway mum and dad are starting to get worried about Harry too. I just sent another letter to him and mum said if he doesn't respond within a week they'll go and get him themselves! So either way, I'll be seeing Harry in a week or so - so stop worrying! Everything will be fine, trust me. When he gets here, we should plan to meet up in Diagon Alley to get our supplies.
Lay off the homework, will you? You need to have some fun.
P.S. Do you mind letting Errol stay at your place for a few days? I kind of pushed him, sending a letter to Harry and then one to you right after. Mum'll kill me if she finds out.'
Hermione shook her head feeling both relief and a twinge of annoyance at Ron's letter. The important thing was that Harry would be okay. Hermione had a feeling his relatives had something to do with Harry not receiving their letters. She scowled, from the two times she met Harry's aunt and uncle - and from what Harry casually mentioned about them - she gathered they were not nice people at all.
"What does Ron say?" Mrs. Granger asked, placing a plate of bread crumbs down by Errol.
"His parents are going to get Harry themselves if he doesn't respond in a week," she replied, setting the letter down.
"Well, that's good, isn't it?" she smiled. "That poor boy looked a little worse for wear when we saw him at King's Cross."
Hermione shifted uncomfortably, suddenly finding the table piece very interesting. She had neglected to tell her parents what had happened at the end of the year with one of their professor's, Quirrell and the Philosopher's Stone. Hermione, Harry, and Ron ended up in the Hospital Wing for a few days with Harry being unconscious for most of them. It was a miracle a letter wasn't sent home to tell Hermione's parents what had happened - if they found out, along with other events she decided not to tell them, they would most definitely pull Hermione out of Hogwarts.
"Ron also said when Harry gets there we should plan a trip to Diagon Alley," Hermione continued, looking up at her mother. "Can we please do this, mum? Please?"
"Of course we can," Mrs. Granger said, reaching over to ruffle Hermione's hair. "We'll wait until your supplies list comes and then you can arrange a date."
"Can I go too?" Viola asked, making her eyes go wide as she looked up at her mother.
"We'll see," Mrs. Granger said slowly.
"Oh, and Ron also asked if Errol could stay for a few days to rest up," Hermione said quickly, sensing a Viola tantrum coming on. "He pushed him with delivering two letters back to back."
Mrs. Granger pursed her lips and nodded, stroking Errol's feathers softly. Hermione could hear her muttering under her breath about animal cruelty as she did so.
Errol was as good as new after a few days of rest. Hermione quickly wrote a letter to Ron (and Harry, if everything went as planned), giving them a date to go to Diagon Alley. As Hermione let Errol fly out of the window, she saw another tawny owl flying towards her. She stepped back and watched as the owl landed on the window sill, sticking out its leg immediately.
Hermione quickly untied the letter, grinning at the Hogwarts seal, and the owl ruffled its feathers and took off. Hermione went to the kitchen and opened her letter, pulling out the single piece of parchment.
`To Miss Hermione Granger,
These are the books required for you to complete your second year at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Robes and other equipment are the same and only need to be replaced if need be. See you on 1st September.
Professor Minerva McGonagall
Second year students will require:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 2) by Miranda Goshawk
Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart
Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart
Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart
Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart
Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart
Willy's Wand and Cathy's Cauldron: Everything You Need to Know about Your Body by Natasha Slammens.'
Hermione felt her face heat up as she read the last book. She quickly placed the letter on the table and cleared her throat as her parents came into the kitchen.
"Hogwarts letter arrived," Hermione squeaked immediately, trying to fight off the blush. "I already sent Ron the letter about when we'll be going to Diagon Alley, but it works out this way."
Mrs. Granger raised an eyebrow at Hermione's blush and grabbed the letter. A sly grin spread across her face as she read it. "Oh good," she said, handing the letter to Mr. Granger, "it looks like Hogwarts is like a normal school in this aspect."
"Don't be embarrassed, love," Mr. Granger said softly, trying to stop from smiling. "It's a normal part of growing up."
"And you're a mature young lady perfectly capable of learning about these things," Mrs. Granger added. "Actually you're father and I would encourage you talking about sex. It's not something that should be avoided - you need to know. It'll help you embrace your sexuality and -"
"Alright, I'm leaving!" Hermione said hurriedly, blushing almost painfully. She grabbed the letter out of her father's hands and practically ran out of the kitchen, Mr. and Mrs. Granger's laughter following behind her.
End Note: And there you have it, the first chapter of CoS! I'm not sure when the next chapter is going
to be up, school is running me ragged so probably sometime in February! Love you all!