smartestone: (strangling the kitty)
It wasn't a big surprise to find sheep in her room, because after two years Hermione knew to expect this sort of thing. For a while she'd ignored them, letting them mill around and occasionally bleat while she studied. Crookshanks had even taken an interest, herding them around.

And then Hermione looked up from her book to see what was going on, seeing Crookshanks heading into the closet where he'd herded the nice tasty sheep all in one place.

"Crookshanks, no!" she cried, jumping up to wrangle him away. "This is Fandom, you don't know where they've been!"

When Hermione returned from her away team mission in New York, she wasn't sure that she'd ever wanted more to just flop onto her bed and do nothing for a while. Not even after the Department of Mysteries, though that didn't count since she'd spent the end of that unconscious. She'd spent a good part of this trip unconscious too, though.

It was also the first time she'd been able to examine herself for bruises, which was a bit limited in her current position of 'flopped on the bed'. She did have a couple on her arms that she could see, which would happen when you spent a lot of time falling.

Bloody Deadpool.

[Door's closed, post can be open.]
Despite the papers in front of her, Hermione actually wasn't studying. She'd just finished the latest letter from Viktor and was trying to write back, but wasn't finding too much to say. This may have been a sign that she needed to get out more. Not that she was telling anyone else that because she'd never hear the end of it, but she did realize it.

The door was open.

[For one specifically.]
Hermione was never leaving her room again. Seriously. She meant it this time. It wasn't even her being stupid. She was really beginning to think it would be better off for everyone if she did.

As if the common room wasn't enough (she hadn't even known the girl's name and still kissed her and she hadn't kissed anyone in Fandom and this was how it happened? She didn't even like girls like that, as was really very clear right now), she had made the mistake of opening the box that had come for her earlier. She hadn't known at the time what it could be, and had been horrified to discover that was filled with clothes she'd ordered when she was... not herself last weekend. And alllll from Hot Topic. On her parents' credit card.

Never. Leaving. The. Room.

Hermione had very definitely changed overnight. Back into a normal person.

And then all the things she'd said came rushing back, and Hermione found herself whimpering into the pillow that then found itself making its way over her head. She wasn't really one for unnecessary whining, but at the same time, if she suffocated before she got up and had to hunt down Ron, she'd be okay with that.

Hermoine had spent her morning on her lapptop. She'd been the only girl at Hoggwarts who was allowed to have one and she brought it to Fandom with her. It was the latest model. She didn't like any of the clothes in her closet, and they were all too much like the ones she used to wear before she was all popular, so she spent a lot of time shopping online with her parents' credit card to fix that.

Right now she had some Panic at the Disco playing on her brand new iPod and was hating the world and looking really beautiful doing it.

[Door and post are open!]
It was finals week, so Hermione, of course, was hard at work studying, poring over notes and looking through books and while she had gotten quite used to the way things were done at Hogwarts, she was sickly gleeful at the usefulness of highlighters.

I don't want anybody else
When I think about you I-

Hermione's eyes went wide as she realized exactly what song that was, and shook her head as if trying to dislodge it. Of course, it didn't work, and after the song started repeating itself on loop in her head, she found herself blushing furiously. Even if she wasn't doing anything, this was not the sort of thing you wanted a random telepath to pick up on. So she committed the cardinal sin of studying: she turned on the radio. Because any song she heard had to be better than this.

[I'm SO sorry. The idea got stuck in my head, much like the god damn song, and I couldn't not. Establishy.]
Hermione had started out deciding to clean her side of the room, not that it needed much cleaning. Organizing might be a better word.

The problem with this was that it required opening the trunk at the foot of her bed that had long ago been spelled to be a bit on the bottomless side, and that was where Hermione had been storing most of her books. In order to organize her books while including the ones that had been stored atop her desk or the chest itself till now, she was going to have to pull all the books out first in order to arrange them so that they could be found easier when needed.

The pile of books on the floor was getting somewhat ridiculous now.

[See previous note re entertainment.]
Hermione woke up later than she expected, blinking at the ceiling and trying to figure out what she immediately knew was off.

"Hello?" she called after a moment.

She didn't get an answer, but-

"I can hear you," she said, and sat up in bed. "...Why did I just hear that I sat up in bed?"

She had already decided that today was going to be a little on the strange side.

"Oh, shut up," she muttered, flopping back onto her bed.

[Establishy, la.
So for today, Hermione's hearing her own narrative. Every word. No one else will be able to, though. What? I needed crack.]
Hermione woke up slowly, though she realized the bed did seem smaller than she was used to. She opened her eyes, sitting up to see what the problem was, and was surprised to see the ginger cat sleeping at the foot of the bed. "Crookshanks?" she said, frowning. He hadn't been alive for years...

She looked around the room, blinking as she took in the now-vaguely familiar setting. Of course.

And sighed. "Honestly."

[Door's closed, post is open!]
Hermione had spent too much time cooped up lately, and this was becoming kind of clear to her. She'd gotten through all the books she had now, and was reading Hogwarts, A History again just because, though anytime Crookshanks wandered by her spot on the bed she'd reach out to pet him and then get slightly distracted wondering why he would come over here if the first thing he would do was move somewhere else the second she reached out.

She may have needed a real distraction.

smartestone: (b&w frown)
Hermione woke up content in the knowledge that she was in fact Hermione Granger.

However, after the world's most awkward study session EVER (and the homecoming date thing was an entirely different flail) and the radio saying anything about her naked at the assembly, she might be trying very hard to repress Friday.

So if she was holed up in her room today? That would be why.

[Establishy unless you're up for some pretty impressive SP.]
smartestone: (relaxed and pretty)
Hermione didn't really tend to make a big deal out of her birthday. The biggest thing was that she didn't have to worry about doing magic anywhere anymore and being reprimanded for it, and she really should look into being able to Apparate soon, now that she could. Though it would have been fantastic to have a class today, just because she was twisted like that. Currently, she was spending it reading, of course. Reading a thick tome on the American Revolution, because it always was interesting to see how the other side viewed things.

She really should be saved from herself, you know.

Hermione was studying, which probably came as a surprise to no one. Classes were back in session, she didn't have any evil principals to plot against, and that meant her priorities were blissfully back to normal. So there she was, at her desk, with a book on mathematical theory and knitting needles spelled nearby to make some more hats for the Hogwarts elves. She was sure Ginny would distribute them if she asked.

[Door and post, both open. Plz distract the bookworm.]
Hermione was still bouncing over yesterday. A year. She'd been here a year, only able to see Ron and Harry the few times she could manage to get back, and Harry was here. And Neville, even if he wasn't from her time, and even if she kind of secretly thought his roommate needed an attitude adjustment. It still made her feel so much better about everything. And seriously, Harry was here.

She was missing Ron, though, which was why she was trying to write a letter. It was hard not to squee about Harry's arrival without feeling like she was rubbing it in that Ron was still at Hogwarts, though, and that was why she was on roughly the seventh draft of the letter.

[Open, though my net is being a bitch and a half so I might be slow. Also will be a linkdrop later.]
Hermione could panic about not having classes or being bored, but she kind of chose not to. Because she could always practice some Transfiguration and it was just like learning. She'd managed to turn a hat into a kitten so far, which Crookshanks was less than happy with.

"Don't start, he'll be changed back before you know it," Hermione told him.

Crookshanks ignored her, and curled up on the floor, glaring at it.

[For Rikku yay!]
To say Hermione was in a bit of shock after the adrenaline crash after her visit with Umbridge would be an understatement. She already reported the incident, and before she even reached her room placed a call to her parents. She'd hung up as soon as her mother picked up because she didn't trust her voice and she didn't want them worrying, but she just wanted to know they were okay.

So when she got back to her room she wasn't really able to concentrate on much at first, and just sat with Crookshanks even if he didn't want to be petted. He would have to deal. She'd gotten into a lot of trouble with Ron and Harry before, but it was always with them, and now she really missed them. And before it had almost always been about Harry. She was a sidekick and she knew this, so having the threat specifically against her was something new and she could really do without that.

In retrospect, she should've listened to Sam.

Hermione knew she was in trouble. She knew she'd get it eventually, but she was kind of surprised she'd gotten away with as much as she had.

And the thing about getting into trouble with Ron and Harry was that she didn't really get a chance to prepare for the trouble beforehand.

So while definitely nervous, she looked pretty calm, sitting on her bed with Crookshanks sleeping near her legs, doing what she did best: research.

[Establishy, la.]
smartestone: (hogwarts girl)
There was an owl at the window early in the morning, the tapping at the glass being what woke Hermione. Rubbing an eye, she got up and opened it, letting the owl inside. "Hello, Hermes," she said, undoing the package tied to his leg and letting him drink from the water glass she just left out now.

Inside a very nondescript brown box was a large assortment of supplies, along with a note.

dear hermione )

Hermione could find many, many reasons to look down on a lot of the things Fred and George came up with, but right now she loved them both.

Hermione was writing. A lot. Several pages in her notebook had been covered in her own handwriting, and years of writing superfluous reports far longer than they would have ever needed to be in any universe meant that her wrist wasn't even tired. If anyone asked, she wouldn't tell.

Crookshanks and Wadsworth were fed, she'd already checked her voicemail, and she was fully prepared in case anyone's hand was bleeding.



Hermione Granger

December 2011

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