Hello everyone. I'm sorry, but I have been struck with an inspiration for THIS story, and have put the other one on hold. Once again, sorry.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I sorely wish I did though.

The Last breakfast

Hermione Granger sighed in frustration, slamming her book down onto the breakfast table, causing silver cutlery to jump.

"WHAT RONALD?"

Ron Weasley's ears turned bright red, and he silently put the chart on the table. His previous "Hermione, Hermione, Hermione, Hermione…" bout to get her attention was now quashed in her anger at being disrupted. She merely glared at him.

"I don't think so. Listen here Ronald, I have 3085 pages to read still, and YOU want ME to look over YOUR homework? In a class that is completely rubbish anyways? I don't think so." She snarled, brushing away bushy brown hair and rolling her eyes.

"Oh come one, it won't hurt you…You could just tell me…"
Hermione leaned over, took a glance at the parchment, long enough to determine it had writing on it, before leaning back, picking up her book and opening it.

"And…?" Ron pressed, clutching his spoon in his right hand.

"It's wrong." Hermione said from behind the book. Her bossy tone was muffled due to the old thing, but it didn't stop Ron from ruffling his imaginary feathers with indignation.

"YOU DIDN'T EVEN LOOK! I could have written it in Viking and you wouldn't have noticed. I could have repeatedly written swear words in all the languages I can think of…"
"Which would be…English?" Hermione retorted from behind her paged fortress.

"God Hermione! All I did was ask you to…"
" Like you've been asking me to do since you met me! Excuse me if I have better things to do than hang around, waiting for YOU to get off your arse and do something mildly interesting!" she snapped, calmly turning a page, despite the outrage that tapered her voice.

Harry Potter laughed. Ron scowled and snatched back the divination chart, before digging his spoon into his breakfast. Ron and Harry had both shot up, and muscled up throughout puberty. Ron now being a 6 foot 4 and Harry an even 6 foot, they both towered over Hermione's 5 foot 4. Harry's hair was still stubbornly unruly, while his emerald green eyes glinted from beneath his glasses. Ron's hair was a thickly ruffled red mop, while his blue eyes sang a song of warmth. Both boys were protective of their female friend, and despite their size, were frequently seen wincing as she stood on her tiptoes, brandishing a wand and a slew of threats. Even the most attractive witches at Hogwarts sought after both males.

Hermione had changed too. She now filled every man's dream under her robes with a body that most females would turn green for. Her hair had not changed. It was slightly longer, but still made her look like a yield sign. She still worked at a mile a minute, and constantly had to be told to breathe when she was answering questions. Her bossy attitude scared most males who believed there was something under her cloak and thick woolen robes to go after.

The great hall was currently a flurry of activity. A new week had started, and students were milling about, doing certain things that their houses do before breakfasts.

The Hufflepuffs were sitting in straight lines, talking to everyone within an ear's range with enthusiasm, and offering help and finished homework for copying.

Ravenclaws were mildly interesting, passing tests along, asking eachother questions, giving advice, sharing theories, and reading.

The gryffindors were rowdy, throwing food, laughing and telling jokes. Kids were constantly getting up and running to other ends of the table to deliver news. Bangs were often heard, along with the common swear word.

The Slytherins were in groups of 4-6 along their tables, talking quietly, smirking, laughing occasionally, and passing notes from one group to another.

Sunlight streamed into the large hall, and owls occasionally swooped out, delivering news after waiting for replies after the morning papers. The teachers who were left at the table talked amongst themselves, or sat behind a pile of paper work, bits of food dangling from their mouths, or a fork weaving it's way absentmindedly through eggs as they scribbled down marks onto assignments.

"Hey Harry! What's green and flies backwards?" Seamus Finnagin asked, from Hermione's right.

Harry pondered and Ron looked properly wary.

"I dunno. What?"

"Mucus." Hermione muttered from her spot. All three males looked at her.

"What?" Ron asked, not sure he heard right.

"Mucus goddamn it! Snot! Hork! Green stuff! Gold! Nasal defense! Glue! BOOGERS!" She said with total exasperation, closing her book and banging her head on it's cover.

"Way to ruin a good joke." Seamus said, looking put out.

"Yeah, so much for a punchline!" Dean called, snorting back what was supposedly the punchline.

"Urgh. Use a bloody tissue you disgusting creature!" some random girl yelled from along the table. Hermione stared glumly at the tabletop, wondering how the hell she knew that that was going to be the answer. Years ago she would have been revolted, and now it was part of the normality of her life. Boy jokes. Oh dear god.

She glanced at her watch and inwardly groaned. The hand that said "Hermione" was pointing at "Going to class" and the hand that said "Motivation" was hovering above "Pluto". Gathering her books, she put them in her bag. This was the que for the rest of the hall to start packing their bags and heading off.

"Bye guys. I'll see you later. I don't have any classes with you today, so I'll see you at lunch, or dinner. And don't be asses to Mcgonagall. " she said, as both boys grinned innocently and waved. Shouldering her backpack, she walked out of the hall, directly across the entrance hall, and into the dungeon opening.

Here, the corridors were lined with lights, every 10 feet. It wasn't as slimy as it was humid.

Hermione sighed.

Her last relationship had been with Dean. It had exploded into a nasty ending when she pushed him into the lake for being forceful. He'd been bitter towards her since then. She supposed she wasn't right for him, or vice versa. Hermione figured if she waited long enough, some guy would come for her, and be attracted to her personality.

Suddenly, a glass canister of ink exploded all over her Mary-Janes, washing them in maroon ink.

"Aw, shit." Hermione muttered, stooping to examine the damage to the pocket that the ink well had fallen from.

"Reparo" she muttered and the seam healed.

She studied the mess on the ground and her shoes. Figuring she wasn't going to need an empty ink well, she waved her wand, and cleaned up the whole mess.

Suddenly, the hairs on her neck stood up, and she stilled, sensing something was behind her. She whipped around, and surveyed the passage, looked up at the ceiling, and tried to probe into all dark corners. She had never understood why the main characters in movies and such looked around, and not above them or behind them first. It was stupid.

Satisfied that there was no monster in the corners watching her every move and calculating how long her legs were with how forceful a kick was, she moved along, bringing her wand up closer to her hip.

Suddenly, a force hit her from behind, and they both stumbled into an alcove. Hermione's wand clattered to the floor, and her surprised scream was quickly silenced.

To a normal student waltzing to Potions, the hall was empty, and silent as a pyramid.

Thanks for reading! The chapters will most likely get longer, as the plot thickens. I deeply apreciate comments. I'm vain, so try to fuel my ego, 'kay? I know you're all capable of doing that. THANKS! I love you all.

-Suzanne