─ ⁰². NO, IT'S THE MILKMAN

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┄┄ .•* 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐 *•. ┄

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𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔

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As Julie—now Hermione—arrived at the Grangers' household, she smiled widely. The house wasn't small, but it wasn't big, either. It was average-sized, yet you could see the Grangers lived well—white trimmed garden upfront, and the freshly painted facade. As she walked around the well-decorated house, she couldn't help to coo at Hermione's baby pictures. She was so damn adorable. Then as she got to her room, she had to do a double-take as to not mistake it for a library. There was a ton shit of books in Hermione's—so-called—bedroom. So many, that it got to the point, Hermione didn't even use bookshelves anymore, and there were piles of books on the floor. Huh. Nevertheless, the room looked tidy—which was surprising and also made Julie grimace—it would be like that for much longer. . . .

That night—her first night in this new home—Hermione had dinner with her parents—which for Julie was a whole new concept. She never had dinner with any sort of parents, before. And dinner at the Grangers was relaxed and casual. There was a lot of talking (mostly from Hermione's part) and laughing (from her parents' part). 

The first thing Julie did during the summer wasn't homework. It was actually, taking care of her mane—I mean—hair. She had already made Madam Pomfrey remove her buckteeth magically. They were cute and all when she was little—mainly from the pictures Hermione found—but not in her teen years. So now, the hair. She didn't want to take its curls away, per se. She wanted to remove the extra volume and frizziness and be able to style it how she wanted it—whether it'd be straight, wavy, or curly. Thus, she convinced Mrs. Granger, to buy her a ton shit of hair products. And that was how, Julie Stone, made the impossible happen. She tamed Hermione Granger's untameable hair—something that could easily be put on Guinness. Now, it was silky and rich in bouncy curls. And Hermione was pleased to see that they honestly reminded her of Kathrine Pierce's hair—which she loved profoundly along with its owner.

The second thing Julie did was shopping. Not to be mean, but Hermione had the worst taste in fashion. And Julie loved fashion. She loved clothes. She loved dressing up in different things and come up with new outfits. It was something that she just enjoyed and that Hermione obviously didn't. So, she took the money she found stashed away under her bed—probably Hermione's life savings, seeing as it reached over a thousand pounds—and made her parents go to London with her to buy a new wardrobe.

Another thing Hermione did during the summer holidays was calling Harry. She knew that by now, Ron would've called already, which meant the pig of an uncle, Harry had—which mind you, was an insult to pigs to call him that—had gone berserk over the fact dear Ronald shouted at the phone. But Hermione had a plan—she was hoping Harry would pick up, yet if he didn't and one of the relatives came to the phone, she would either pretend she had the wrong number or prank call them. So, she dialed the number, which was really freaky and made her miss cellphones, and waited for someone to pick up the phone on the other line.

"Hello?" came Harry's squeaky teenage voice and Hermione sighed in relief it wasn't Uncle Pig.

"Hey, Harold!"

"Hermione?"

"No, it's the milkman," Hermione rolled her eyes, "Yes, you arsehole. It's me."

"Language. I thought you weren't going to call." Harry said visibly happy. Well, more like heardbly happy.

"Of course I'd call," Hermione said matter-of-factly as if he was daft. "I know Ronald can't use a phone, but that doesn't mean I can't," she laughed along with Harry. 

They talked for a bit more—about anything and everything—until Harry heard the car park in the garage, which made him hurry and they had to hang up. Thankfully Harry got Hermione's number from that phone call so they talked more over the holidays. That was until Julie had to go to France with her parents.

And you have no idea how happy she was. Growing up in an orphanage Julie had never traveled the world. She just knew her little town, in the suburbs of London, and that was it. But she craved for more. Just the fact she was living in London and that she now knew more than that tiny town, was marvelous. But cravings don't really stop. She wanted to travel the whole world. She would love to go on a safari in Africa or an amusement-park trip through Orlando or walk the streets of Italy (in general) eating until she popped. Anything that included learning about new countries and cultures, etc, Hermione was down for. So, to say Julie was happy was an understatement.

And she wasn't disappointed. She loved France. The Grangers took her to Paris which was a beautiful city to be in. They went to every tourist point and none-tourist point there. Hermione even begged to go to museums—that might have been another thing Hermione and Julie had in common. They loved the different cultures in the world and learning things about them. Hence why Julie walked through the Louvre with admiration in her eyes. Unlike Hermione, she probably wouldn't retain much information. She was there more for the paintings than for their background. Julie loved art. She wasn't bad at it, at all, but above all, she loved to watch others' works. She loved to see all the different technics and meanings behind a painting and the strokes of the brushes.

Somewhere during the holidays. More specifically July 31st, 1993, Harry's birthday came. And with it, the fateful and awful situation, called gift-giving. Julie had never bought a present for anyone before, so she wanted her present to be awesome. The first thing she bought, which she also got for herself, was a bunch of pens in the shape of a quill for Harry. Then she realized she needed another thing because a bunch of pens wasn't exactly the ideal gift (not that she would know). So besides, the broom-something whatever-kit she got him by owl post, she also bought Harry two customized t-shirts. The t-shirts said: Local dumbass knew what he was getting himself into and did it anyway; I know everything happens for a reason, but what the fuck?

But all wonderful things must come to an end, and Julie—much to her displeasure—had to do her homework. For some God-forsaken reason, the teachers in Hogwarts sent an abomination of homework during the summer holiday. Holiday. It's your break from school. Either way, Julie had to do them. Firstly because she was not that irresponsible and secondly because if she didn't do them, people might get suspicious of her 180 degrees personality change. Damn Hermione and her A-grades!

Lastly, with summer Julie's dreams became reality. As corny as it sounds. Firstly she got to travel farther than the little town. Secondly, she got to do magic. She couldn't use her wand but she could use her mind. That was exactly what she did. She started practicing wandless and nonverbal magic at every chance she got. And after many many broken plates, she finally got the—slight—hang of it. She still had a long way to go—but! she could do the Levitation Charm reasonably well. Lastly, she got her first Hogwarts letter! It wasn't the first letter you get, it was more of a returning letter, but Julie couldn't be happier. The letter said:

Dear Ms. Granger,

Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock.

Third-years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign.

A list of books for next year is enclosed. Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress


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