Julie Stone was a regular girl; she lived in an orphanage, had some friends, and every now and then would bang her head against the wall due to stress. . . . Normal!
Anyway, all her life Julie never seemed to quite fit in. She loved it, but her life...
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𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒕, 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔
────── *•. ⚡︎ .•*──────
Her eyes snapped open not being able to keep them close much more with te sun soaring between the curtains of her room, illuminating it and burning off her eyelids. She let a groan escape her lips as she stretched and swung her legs around, her bare feet coming into contact with the hardwood floor.
It had been about a month and a half since the school year had come to a close. Hermione and her fake not-fake parents had gone on a wonderful trip to Italy. They had stayed most of their time there in Sicily—which Hermione loved, plus she had gotten tanned while she was there. She had tasted every food she saw, and walked around so much her legs would be sore the next day. The trip was marvelous and relaxing.
But now, back in London, reality had settled in a bit more. This was probably going to be the last trip she would have in years. Yet, instead of sulking Hermione made the most of it and only saw things by the positive side. Soon enough she would go to the Weasley's, where she would stay the remainder of the holidays and she would get to watch the Quidditch World Cup—which, mind you, she was really looking forward to (not the Death Eaters part, though).
She made her way to the bathroom and got ready. She took a quick shower, got dressed—in shorts and a tank top—and put her hair up in a ponytail. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror and was making her way out of the bathroom, heading to the door of her room, when she saw Harry sitting on her bed. She jumped so high in the air from the shock, she ended up falling on her arse, "FUCK!"
Harry started laughing loudly, clutching his ribs and she glared up at him. But that was when she noticed. Harry with his messy hair, looked a few years older and his eyes weren't the same bright emerald green eyes Hermione got so used to see. They were hazel.
Hermione's eyes were as round as a Galleon, her mouth practically on the floor and the color had drained from her face.
"Uh—Oh my—You—Uh—Argh—" Hermione spluttered in shock, looking looking at the figure before her, who had now stood up and offered his hand for her to take, so he could pull her up. Hesitantly Hermione took a hold of his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
The Harry look alike grinned at her, letting go of her hand and ran a hand through his hair. "Hi. I'm James Potter," he said with a grin.
"Huh?" Hermione gaped at him.
"Well, this is awkward. I thought you knew me," James said with a grin still plastered to his face.
"You're dead," Hermione finally managed to get out.
