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Solid as a Rope of Sand by misschievous007
Chapter 1 : Slumbering in the Reverie of Peace
 
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 12


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A/N: Hey guys, please keep continuing reading after this, it's basically my version of the sixth year (and it's rather juicy!) I hope you enjoy it!


Chapter 1: Slumbering in the Reverie of Peace

Inside the red bricked two story house of the Grangers lived a girl, who, on the verge of breaking through adolescence, was fast asleep and hardly up to the day ahead. Her two cheery parents were bustling around the house, her mother in the kitchen preparing breakfast (waffles and cereal), and her father in the lounging chair reading the newspaper, his napkin tucked into the top of his blue button down shirt. Her mother’s emerald colored eyes matched perfectly with her fiery red hair, much tamer than Hermione’s, and was considered by all to be a true beauty. Her father was a tall, somewhat lanky man, who actually enjoyed wearing button down blouses and crisp trousers rather than comfortable clothing. Oftentimes he wore square rimmed black glasses which always hung at the tip of his nose. His chocolate brown hair dropped down over his right eye, which he quickly pushed back while picking up the newspaper from the mosaic tiled table.

“Darling, do you think it’s safe to keep the Daily Prophet from Hermione for so long? I mean, she’s got to learn about what’s been happening at some point. She’s really beginning to become suspicious.” He paused, scratched his chin, and looked up at his beautiful wife. She walked over to him, glancing at the headline, Weasely Disaster to Affect Changes in Hogwarts, while slowly whisking the waffle mix. “You know that if she sees these papers, she’ll be heart broken. Hermione always feels as though she has to fix everything, and this will be first on her list. We can’t go let her read all of these and get her nose meddled into all of this, it’s simply too dangerous. But maybe it’s not as bad as we think it is, you know? We don’t exactly know for sure what is going on in the wizarding world, and I hardly know who anyone really is. I certainly don’t, at least,” Mrs. Granger stated, with a pensive look on her face, not noticing the waffle mix nearly tipping out of her large blue bowl.

“But if she does find out that we haven’t been telling her about any of this…which she undoubtedly will have to at some point…how would she react to it all? And how would she react to us?” Mr. Granger replied, pressing his glasses back up closer to his forehead.

“All we can do is wait and find out…I expect she’ll send us a letter from Hogwarts once she arrives. Just act nonchalant and normal to see her off this morning, and then we can take it from there,” she replied grimly.

She walked back to the counter as she nervously resumed attending to breakfast, slowly cleaning up the spilled mix which was streaming down the side of her bowl. Mr. Granger scooted his chair back closer to the table, shaking slightly as he set down the Daily Prophet.



Up the stairs and behind the second door to the right rested the door to Hermione’s room. Inside, Hermione groaned as she rolled onto her back and reached out her arm to turn off her alarm clock. “Five thirty? What…?” she muttered miserably. “Why am I up so early?” Still half asleep and upset that she woke up so early, she rolled back onto her stomach, grabbed her fluffy white pillow and sank into a deep slumber. As Hermione fell deeper and deeper into a sleepy dreamlike state, images of Ron, Ginny, and Harry began to appear in her mind. Hermione smiled at the thought of seeing her old friends again, but the smile quickly disappeared as disturbing images began to roll through her head.

“Stop it! Stop it! Just leave him alone!” Ginny screamed, tears pouring down her face, red with anger and disparity.

“He ruined me…what am I supposed to do, sit here and do nothing?” a shadow questioned angrily. The shadow moved slowly, gliding towards Ginny.

“Don’t you dare touch my sister!” Ron bellowed. Suddenly, a glowing ball of flames hurled through the air towards Ron and struck him. He keeled over, stomach pushed in backwards with the rest of his body following.

“No…no, you CAN’T do this!” Harry entered the picture, his clothes ripped, barely draped over his body. He began muttering an incantation with a severe expression, his eyes glaring in fury at the monster in the shadows. His arm stretched out with his wand fiercely positioned at the shadow, he screamed two final words, which resonated in the dilapidated cell.

Ginny shrank into the darkness; a solitary stream of light from a hole in the drafty cement room touched her knee. She huddled as she silently cried, her back shivered as she took short, quick breaths in between her quiet wails of pain. Hermione noticed a gash on Ginny’s back, a red circle branded onto her delicate snow white skin.


“Oh my god oh my god oh my god,” Hermione repeated over and over, tossing in her bed.

“Honey! Honey! Wake up! It’s okay…it’s okay.” A gentle hand rubbed Hermione’s back caringly. “It was only a dream…” Mrs. Granger rushed to the side of Hermione’s room to switch the light on, and observed the time on the clock which then read six o’clock.

“Mom?” Hermione sat up slowly, blood rushing from her head, which sent throbbing pains in her forehead. She grabbed her head with her hand, which was sweating, and her mom wiped a tear from her cheek. Mrs. Granger wrapped her arms around Hermione, who shuddered and tried to shrug off the terrible nightmare she had just experienced.

“Do you remember what today is, honey?” Mrs. Granger said with a smile on her face.

A huge grin spread across Hermione’s delicate face. How could she have forgotten? She sighed lightheartedly and dropped back onto her pillow, her wavy light brown hair crinkling underneath her head. “I thought that would cheer you up,” her mother said. “Get ready, we’re already a little behind. Breakfast is on the table when you’re dressed.”

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Hermione groggily pulled out her trunk for Hogwarts and opened it to find her books neatly arranged from where she had just put them the day before. (Naturally, she had been studying for half of the summer.) She then pulled out her neatly folded robes, put them among her other possessions, and picked up her usual clothes to wear to the London train station.

Her heart pounded against her chest, wildly racing at the thought of seeing Harry and Ron again for the first time for two months. She quickly dressed herself, brushed her teeth, and grabbed a hair tie from the bathroom. As she hopped down the winding staircase, she pulled the hair tie from her wrist with her teeth and wrapped it around her untamed hair.

On the counter next to the bottom of the staircase laid a picture of Hermione at the beginning of her fifth year. Goodness how she’s matured, even in a year, thought Mrs. Granger, noticing the difference between the way her daughter looked standing next to her picture and the picture itself.

“Ready to head back to school again?” questioned her father.
“Yes!” Hermione quickly responded.

Hermione ate exceptionally quickly, ran back up the staircase, grabbed her trunk, and pulled it sluggishly down the stairs. “Don’t hurt yourself!” Mr. Granger chuckled. He ran up to give Hermione a bit of help. They carried it down the rest of the stairs, out the door, and into the small, five passenger, deep blue metallic car.

The weather was nice and breezy, although the sky had an odd greenish ambience to it. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley walked out of the house with their daughter, Mr. Weasley shutting the door and locking it behind them, and hopped into the car, preparing to make the trek to Kings Cross Station.

Both of the Grangers looked a bit uneasy, Hermione had noticed, but decided not to bring anything up in case it was just because they were sad to see her off. Hermione, too, had had a great summer with her family and was somewhat disappointed to leave home.

As the Grangers unloaded the trunk, Hermione stepped out of the car, but noticed a Daily Prophet in between the two seats in the front. “Dad!” Hermione exclaimed, “I thought we weren’t getting the Daily Prophet anymore! Why didn’t you tell me?” “We...um…aren’t, darling. That’s one from a really long time ago,” he stuttered, his voice cracking. Hermione would have liked to believe him, but as she shut the door and looked through the front window, she saw the date as being August first of that year. What worried her more as she thought back to what she had seen was, had the headline said something about the Weasleys on the cover?


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