Chapter Two--REVAMPED

Chapter Two--REVAMPED

Stale Bagels

To my readers- READ, YO!

I have noticed that my writing from chapter one to my most recent chapter has gone downhill. I was satisfied with chapter one—way too short for me, but at least he writing was acceptable. During the latter chapters, I have been going off-top, randomizing thoughts, and although this story is supposed to be comedy, I dare say some readers may be getting impatient with the lack of romance. I apologize sincerely that I have no written a single chapter in so many months. I had an enormous amount of writer's block. After a lot of time and consideration, I finally decided to revamp my story.

There will still be funny moments of course, but it won't be all comedy.

I suppose that's what you get when you read a 13 year old's work.

Yes, I am only 13, to the people that keep on pestering me—

I am quite upset that the number of readers has sharply decreased.

I am hoping to change this.

If anyone is curious about my work: im me at

Or talk to me on myspace: /xc00kiies.

I'll be more than happy to talk to you.

Oh, and one more thing. Melissa is just a pen name that I've made up at the last second. Brownie points to those who can guess my real name :


Opening her eyes, Hermione felt her stomach flip, once, twice. Grabbing the nearest thing stationary, a plant in this scenario, ripping out a few leaves in the process, she stumbled.

Shaking the dizziness off, she brushed off the imperceptible dust off her work suit, clenched her hands around her suitcase and proceeded to walk as fast as she could on her highest heels.

Opening the door with fluid jerk of her wrist, the whole office froze momentarily, staring at the petite brunette before resuming their positions, chatter restored.

She was greeted at full blast with professional smiles that didn't quite reach their eyes, the quick 'Hello, Miss Granger,' that blurred together.

Hermione shot them a smile of her own, tilting her head in greeting, grabbing her own cup of rich coffee- with extra milk, just the way she liked it.

Jamming a bagel in her mouth, she pushed her office door open with her bum. Placing all her items on her tidy desk, she proceeded to remove her coat, latest in fashion, of course.

She threw it carelessly to the side where it landed on her leather couch, eagle spread.

Grabbing the bright folders that had assembled themselves on her desk, she flicked idly through them, nothing catching her eye.

Reaching for her coffee, she took a sip of it but was interrupted by her extremely loud secretary.

"MISS GRANGER?! MISS GRA—" Tiffany hollered.

Hermione jumped in fright, hand abandoning the coffee where it splashed across her silk blouse, soaking her thoroughly.

Hermione growled loudly, who's bloody brilliant idea was it to set up phone lines again? Damn Verizon.

"I can hear you loud and clearly, Tiffany," Hermione seethed, withdrawing her wand from her drawer and with a quick flick, her coffee was gone, soon-to-be-stains miraculously disappearing as quickly as it had come.

"Hermione, we have a new client. A damn right bit—" Tiffany was interrupted by Hermione who tsked, in a sing-song voice, "Pro-fanityy, Tiff."

Hermione smiled, almost hearing the smirk of her too-honest secretary.

"Code blue," Tiffany whispered before the line went dead.

Hermione sighed. What a lovely start.

Code blue meant that the customer was rude, unreasonable, and bossy. During her first month with wedding planning, Hermione learned that she would have to suck up in order to succeed, and succeed she did.

Tiffany opened the door, with a not so quiet bang, leading a snobbish looking lady into the room. Slapping her fake smile on, Hermione politely raised her hand signaling her to sit.

The woman was in her early twenties, around the same age as Hermione, more or less.

Wrinkling her nose, she stared at the chair with such disgust that sent Hermione reeling.

Tiffany stuck out her tongue at the lady before walking out of the room with a resounding bang, the glass on the door, shuddering in its frame.

"How may I help you, Miss…ah?" Hermione asked in silent question.

"Griswich," Griswich replied curtly.

"Ah, Miss Griswich then. How may I help you?" Hermione asked once again, taking in her appearance. She wore dark green robes, accentuated with dark red velvet, which surely cost a pretty galleon. She had on stilettos, and to Hermione's dismay, was higher than her own brutal shoes. Her hair was pulled tight in a neat bun. Her fourth finger was what caught Hermione's eye. A slim silver band, surely custom made, wrapped her finger twice, a large diamond nestled in the middle, gleaming cold and eerily at her.

"You're a wedding planner. What do you think I need? It has been…rumoured that you are the best of the best. And of course, I'll have just that," Griswich said with a slight upturn of her nose.

"Of course, it had to be a mudblood," Griswich muttered.

"Pardon?" Hermione asked with thinly veiled anger. Hypocritical bitch, she was.

"Nothing at all," Griswich said breezily, glancing at her perfectly manicured nails.

Gritting her teeth, Hermione managed a smile. "Any details you would like to inform me?"

"My wedding will have a large sum of people attending, some of the finest people on earth, some can say. It'll take place in a church, so please, find a half-decent one," Griswich said, hands on her hips.

Fighting down the strong urge to slap the woman upside the head, she nodded, waiting for her to continue.

"The wedding will be two months from now," Griswich said impatiently.

And so, this continued for what seemed like hours. Ah, wait no, it was hours.

Hermione wrote in total, 20 rolls of parchment, of Griswich's claimed 'dream wedding'. She preferred writing the old-fashioned way; it would be a cold day in hell when she used the same product as that horrid lady.

Griswich raised an eyebrow, eyeing Hermione critically. "Do you have all that?"

Stretching her sore fingers, Hermione said with a weary tone "Yes I do,"

"Excellent. Me and my fiancé will come back in oh, I don't know, about a week or so?" Griswich said, back turned, hand on the door knob.

Hermione said nothing.

Walking out, Hermione broke from her straight posture, hands cradling her head. It was going to be a long day.

Looking at the bagel, Hermione shrugged and took a bite out of it.

It was a stale bagel.

Hermione despised stale bagels.

Yess! I've finally was patient enough to write a longer chapter!

Well, taa-dahh!


I'll try and update regularly!