Disclaimer; This is Jo Rowling's World, I just live in it.
August 31st, 1996
The sweltering heat of the summer seemed to ever intensify as Miss Hermione Granger walked down the winding road, with her latest copy of the Daily Prophet in hand, and a strut in her step, as she approached the Burrow. Ever since her second year, she had always made an effort to go visit the Weasleys once a summer. With only a day until September 1st, the start of school, Hermione was in a rush to get everything together- whether school supplies needed to be organized, books were to be read, or bags packed. This year, her sixth, was bound to be exciting. With Umbridge finally out of the way, and the Ministry aware of Voldemort's increasing presence, war was on the edge of breaking out. However, unlike the nervous worries of others this only seemed to excite her- the prospect of putting her 10 OWLs to a good use.
Walking inside the Burrow, kicking off her moccasins in a pile of Wellington boots, Hermione nodded at 'Phlegm'(the nickname Ginny had given Fleur), eager to leave the kitchen, and her presence. Ginny came just in time to save Hermione of Fleur's antics, calling Hermione back outside for an "urgent" meeting, which turned out to be a friendly game of Quidditch.
"No Ginny! For the last time, I do not play quidditch. Flying is not my sport, even if you need one person to make the teams even, I will not play", Hermione protested.
"Come on Hermione! It's just one measly game! Besides, you'll be on my team. Ron can't keep, he'll be too nervous around you. And Harry, sure he can seek but since this is 2-on-2…he's doomed. He can't beat to save his life. Trust me; it'll be an easy win for us! Please?", Ginny slyly retorted.
"No. I cannot and will not fly", Hermione rolled her eyes standing firm in her beliefs. They didn't need to know, however, that Hermione's real fear was not the flying, but rather the falling & the concept of not knowing the outcome. Being a smart girl, she was used to always knowing the answer. The idea of unknown, of hurting herself, truthfully terrified her.
September 1st, 1996
"Hurry up, Ron, Harry! We're going to be late! Honestly!" an exasperated Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes at the boys. Ginny and Hermione were sitting down at the kitchen table, bags packed and ready to go, breakfast fully finished.
"Coming, Coming", Ron lazily said in a horrid attempt at dressing as a muggle. Hermione stifled a laugh, with his maroon cords matched with a green fedora and orange sweater vest. At least Harry had some sense, after being raised by muggles he was dressed in jeans and a white v-neck t-shirt. Much more sensible.
Harry had had it tough this past summer, after losing Sirius he was devastated, torn apart. The most prominent father figure he had ever known was gone, and now the poor kid knew either he'd have to die or kill Voldemort. And the steps it would take to kill Voldemort—the people who would have to die—would tear apart Harry just thinking about it. Sirius had meant the world to Harry, and knowing him, the thought of others dying for him was terrifying. As much as Hermione had disagreed and argued with Sirius the summer before, she was beginning to wish she had gotten to know him better. He didn't deserve to die, after years in Azkaban and being rejected from society- he hardly got the chance to be a free man.
Two hours later, they were riding through the countryside with London just disappearing off in the distance. Ron's hands filled with oodles of Bertie Botts, Licorice Wands, and Pumpkin Pasties while Harry juggled Chocolate Frogs, Fizzing Whizbees, and Acid Pops. "You two are sick. Is that your entire lunch?", Ginny rolled her eyes and said while unpacking her sandwich from Mrs. Weasley, I fully agreed. Honestly, those boys- did they need any more sugar.
"Ron! We need to go to the Prefects compartment to find out our duties", Hermione let out and exasperated breath and started tugging on the goofy red heads arm to get him to go.
"Coming, 'Mione. Geesh. Hold on lemme grab my badge, so I can 'confiscate' some of Gred and Forge's stuff…" Ron retorted in an annoyed voice. Boys. Hermione thought. Boys. Her friends were some of the biggest cheeseballs the world had ever seen. The hilarious part was that Harry had now thwarted Voldemort a total of 5 times in his life; and Ron was a much better wizard than he would ever admit to himself. But, they were all she had. Ginny was a good friend- probably the best girlfriend she had ever had. But, Ginny had friends her own and was always dating someone- making her attached at hip with them, example one: Dean sliding in the compartment and jokingly sitting on petite Ginny's lap. Oh, how Hermione wanted someone to treat her special, but all she was, was a studious girl with frizzy hair.
As they entered the semi-crowded hallway, a sneering Malfoy sauntered towards them. Hermione's face immediately fell, and Ron's hand slid towards his pocket where his wand surely lay ready. A smirk played across his face as he pulled out his wand, toying with it in his slender white hand. "Protective of your little Mudblood friend, Weasley? Well, I don't see what your help would do in protecting her kind of filth…. blood traitors are not exactly the first ones that he will choose to save.", Malfoy casually jeered.
"Shut your mouth! You ferret!", Ron yelled as he pulled up her wand. As a prefect it was her job to stop fighting- and as much as she hated to get in the middle of a Ron-and-Malfoy, heated argument, especially after his father's recent visit to Azkaban. However for that very reason, the ability for this to blow out of control would make it the wisest decision to stop it before it started.
"Stop it you two imbeciles!", she yelled at them. Malfoy, rolling his eyes shot back "Like I'd listen to a mudblood." As she walked in between the two boys, Ron shouted a spell at Malfoy- at the same time as he cried something that sounded very familiar to "Crucio". But, the last thing Hermione remembered was a flash of light, the two spells combining, and herself falling to the ground.