Hermione didn't have any kid emo to worry about, which she thought was a really good thing, timingwise. It meant she was able to concentrate on what she was doing: wondering how she'd accumulated so much stuff over the last two years.

Everything she didn't think she would need before Friday was going in the bottomless trunk, which she was pretty sure she'd need Hagrid to lift by the time she was through. This was taking longer than she'd thought it would, and she blamed last year's discovery of Amazon for it.

[Post and door are open, though I've spent a ridiculous amount of time sleeping off sickness today, so I'll probably be slow.]
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.

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 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 heard the announcement. She thought this would be a huge failure, yes. What's really scary is that it doesn't even alarm her anymore that her first thought was to spend tonight in the hall in a sleeping bag.

She'd made the decision that for every announcement, Umbridge needed to be negatively reinforced. Thusly, she was sitting on her bed, knitting more oddly-shaped socks and wondering whether the dildo cozy conga line should wait a couple days, or if she should just keep up with it the whole week.

[Mostly for people interested in this post. I'm headed to work soon, but will check when I can throughout the day and be back at 5:30 PST. Yay SP!
smartestone: (with crookshanks)
Hermione has a ball python. She's still not sure about this, but it's also not going to burn or sting her, so it's a step up from Hagrid's idea of pets.

Crookshanks keeps hissing at it, though, causing Hermione to roll her eyes as she tries to peruse through a book on caring for the new pet. "Crookshanks, behave. Wadsworth isn't going to hurt you."

Crookshanks completely ignores her. Though honestly, Wadsworth is ignoring Crookshanks, so it's really all right.

[Establishy, unles syou really wanna. No one will probably show, so open. *g*]
Crookshanks had left the room late last night and hasn't been back, but Hermione isn't too worried. She's just been looking through some books she'd gotten last time she went home, kind of wishing she had a real class to deal with.

However, when a middle-aged man pushed the door the rest of the way open with his head and proceeded to walk in like he owned the place, that was enough to get Hermione to look up. "...Can I help you?" Who knew? It was Fandom, maybe this was normal.

He didn't answer, but turned around once or twice in the middle of the floor like he was looking for the perfect spot, and then settled into a sitting position.

"Excuse me," Hermione says. "This is my room."

He looks back, wondering why he can't whap his tail against anything. "Food?" he asks.

"You can get your own food," frowns Hermione. "Elsewhere!"

He got up again, kicking lightly at the empty food bowl near the foot of Hermione's bed.

And then Hermione remembers that it is Fandom. "...Oh my god."
Hermione's having another really bad day. This would be due to the pile of rubble that is now the school (and don't think that didn't get a freaked out squeak from her), a return to the dorms to drop off her things and wtf, only to find a note from Rikku that reminds her that they're back in cabins. She's been a little distracted. She packs up her things again, despite still not feeling well apart from what can be politely described as the jet lag from hell, and goes to find Cthulhu cabin.

Once there, she puts her things in the empty alcove on her side and makes two phone calls before settling in.

[I've never known what alcove to be in.
Open, especially if she called you.]
Hermione is studying, and not thinking too much about roommates disappearing till late, or sending off any letters at all. At least until she hears the knocking at the window, and has to open it for a little owl, who drops a letter just inside the room before flying away again. She scrambles to pick it up, turning it over to see if it's from them. It can't be. Not already. Unless they just turned her down flat...

It's Harry's writing on the envelope, so any disappointment she felt at not hearing from the Ministry yet is quickly pushed aside by the fact that he actually wrote to her.

Dear Hermione, )
Hermione's trying very hard to finish off her letter to the Ministry. She got them to let her use magic here, so maybe they'll be easier-going on her without Harry's influence, and Professor McGonagall already said she'd help argue her case if need be, but still, she wants this to be perfect. And if all goes well, she'll be able to be back at Hogwarts in June just to take her O.W.L.S.

Crooshanks is at the foot of her bed... doing absolutely nothing.

smartestone: (girl moment)
Hermione's received another letter from Hogwarts, and Pigwidgeon is apparently trying to drown himself in a glass of juice while she reads- occasionally looking up to make sure he isn't drowning himself.

Dear Hermione )

Hermione isn't sure she wants to know.

[Openish. Will be out for a little while, back afterwards.]
smartestone: (ick no)
Hermione returns to the room after a long time handwavily spent in the library, clutching a book and immediately going to sit on her bed. She opens it up, idly reaching over to pet Crookshanks- who hisses at her and darts away, right out through the crack of the door. Well, that was unexpected.

She flips to the page she marked with a piece of notepaper, studying the picture. She doesn't understand why a lichen would bite anyone, let alone why one would just happen to be out there on a tree at the end of February, but that's the only explanation for what happened. She can't really move her hand anymore, but doesn't want to go into the clinic while she could be better off researching. When she pulls off the bandage again to look at it, though, the little green lines that had been spreading out from the wound are now running clear down her arm.

They hadn't been able to find a lot of information on lichenthropes yet, but if they're anything like, well, lycanthropes, she has until the next full moon. Which is Saturday. Hermione decides she'd really better get researching.

[Mostly for Luna or the roomie if they want, but open.]
Hermione didn't really sleep last night, or at least didn't sleep that well. She kept waking up to scratch at her hand, or was doing so while half-asleep. Around sunrise she finally gives up and sits up, pulling off the bandage she'd put on to study it.

Despite trying to take care of it, it seems to be worse. It hurts to close her hand, and her palm is even redder and more swollen. And if she's not mistaken, that seems to be a tinge of green around what is very obviously bite marks.

"Huh," she says quietly, frowning and replacing the bandage. Where anyone else would head to the clinic first thing, Hermione decides she should probably head towards the library, if only to find out what bit her. If it was some sort of bug, a spider maybe, she could at least give them some information then.

[Establishy, unless the roomie's up for extreme SP. Hey, guess what. Surprisingly open.]
Hermione has been doing things other than studying. Like knitting. She's already written the letter to her friends back home yelling at them for not writing her like they promised, and just for that, they're going to have to distribute clothing items to the house elves.

So early in the morning she puts out a large box outside of 308 with a sign above it reading

(Benefitting the house elves of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry)

[I'll be afk for most of the day, but feel free to stop by and leave things in the box. Clothing, knitted items, gum wrappers, that rock you've had in your shoe all day, what have you.]
smartestone: (hermione sue)
Hermione had changed over the summer night. She was just tierd of being boring old Hermine, she woke up with new vigor that morning and got out of bed and the first thing she did was brush out her long beautiful honey ash blonde hair. It used to be brown and frizzy, but it changed along with her. It was now sleek and shiny, like a Pantene commercial and all the girls were jealous of it. It also grew six inches just that night.

cut for the protection of a little mentally-challenged teal dear )

Hrmione thought about going out to talk to people, bcause all the girls were jealous and all the boys wanted her and that was really stressful sometimes so may be she would just stay inside for a while and listen to some Evanescence.

[Open, especially for the roommate. Hermione is now a HP fanfic Mary Sue.
Hermione: *kills self on Monday*
I: *will have to spork a few Sues in penance for this. Seriously.]


Hermione Granger

December 2011

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