Book of You and I

Miss Rat

All around, Hermione had had a wonderful summer. She reminded herself of this particular fact over and over as she stormed to the station, slipped onto a bus, and finally snuck through her house's back door.

" 'Take me to the beginning'," she mimicked under her breath. Her mouth screwed itself into a sour knot. "Hi, I'm a stupid teenage boy and am an uncultured swine. Please," she scoffed.

Hermione stomped up the stairs.

"Oh, look at me," she kicked off her shoes, "I'm so much more clever than you with my egg-shaped head and monstrous ego."

She threw off her T-shirt and replaced it with a jumper. Her voice reached a certain shrillness usually reserved for Ronald Weasley. "Let me just demand your assistance like you're my servant, follow you around the library, and insult your intelligence!"

Hermione growled in frustration as she attempted to tame her unruly hair. Her lungs felt tight; she tugged a brush through her curls angrily. "My, I'm just so superior to you. Let me shush you like a child."

Sparks snapped at the end of her fingers, and with another fierce tug, the hairbrush snapped in two. Hermione slammed the pieces onto the floor with a shriek. "ARGH!"

Hermione stared into the small mirror hanging above her dresser, shoulders trembling. She was so angry. And she had no idea why. Her insides boiled ceaselessly.

It had been this way ever since leaving the library, and even the hours of transit couldn't shake it. There was something about being disturbed from her studies, being assumed as an employee, being bossed around...she didn't know. She was just pissed off. And that was without mentioning the money...Merlin, the money.

On the one hand, she was extremely insulted. The entitlement that boy had exuded was preposterous; she had a deep aversion to anyone who tossed around money like it was nothing and expected unerring obedience. Honestly, who acted like that? It was the twentieth century for Godric's sake!

On the other hand, she was incredibly perplexed. Because who acted like that? Yes, yes, it was offensive and abrasive, but it was also...strange. Tipping random employees just for a tour was most certainly not common practice. Some of the ire trickled out of Hermione's core, and instead, it was replaced by curiosity. Perhaps the boy was a foreigner, but no, that didn't make sense. He clearly sounded English. Then maybe he really was royalty or something...but that wasn't logical either. Surely he would have had some sort of entourage with him if that was the case. She clucked in irritation. Whatever the truth was, he was intolerable. And she hoped to never meet him again.

Hermione nodded primly to herself and turned on her heel. Although out late again, her parents would surely be home soon. She needed to finish cleaning up the kitchen and be securely closed in her room by the time they returned. She stalked back down the stairs.

As she straightened the hand towels, Hermione couldn't help but palm the bills in her pocket. At first glance in the library, she'd know it was quite the sum, but she'd actually counted it out during her bus ride back. Five hundred and twenty pounds. Five hundred and twenty. She'd almost fainted at the sight of it.

Well, at least her low-funds issue was taken care of. Now she could visit London whenever she pleased. Hermione checked her watch, then rushed to wipe off the counters before scampering upstairs. Less than a minute later, she slid back into her room and heard the front door creak open below. She flicked off her lights and sank into bed with a grin. Perfect timing.

Her parents murmured softly, dropping belongings on the table and padding up to their own bedroom. They didn't pause at her door tonight, minds elsewhere. Hermione sighed in relief and hugged her covers to her chest.