HIS CHOSEN GIRL [MAJOR EDITING/REWRITING]

second year ➤ summer

HIS CHOSEN GIRL
chapter twenty one-summer
[Your P.O.V]
☟ ☟ ☟

"Yes!" I exclaim "Thats three games for me and, how many for you? Oh right. Zero!"

Hermione and I have been playing cards for the past hour or so, the girl growing more and more frustrated as I continue to win. Naturally, me being me, I find it nearly impossible not to boast, trying to get a rise out of her.

She picks up a nearby pillow from her spot at the top of the bed and whacks my head, as I try to block the attack by shoving my face against the mattress and shielding myself with my arms.

"Shut up, (y/n)!" She laughs. "I'm letting you win."

I scoff lifting my head up from the mattress and snaking my arm around her to fetch a pillow of my own. "You are not!" I exclaim hitting her on the side.

The two of us do this back and forth for awhile until we get bored of it, flopping down on the bed, out of breath and laughing like mad.

This summer has been the best of my life. Hermione and I had become practically inseparable and I simply cannot believe how quickly time has gone by, that we start our second year at Hogwarts in just a week.

Tomorrow we make our shopping trip at Diagon Alley, to which we arranged with the boys long ago. Ron's written us a few letters each over the course of two months, but neither of us have heard from Harry.

I don't allow myself to be too worried though. I know of his current living situation with the dreadful Dursley's. They probably haven't let him have any contact with the rest of us what with their strong determination to keep themselves unassociated with our kind. I just hope they haven't put him through too much.

Getting up off Hermione's bed, I walk over to my owl, Rose's cage, open it then the window and allow her to spread her wings for awhile. It's been nearly a year since Hagrid's gifted her to me, nearly a year since what all lead to this, really.

I smile, still incapable of really grasping how drastically my life has changed in a year's time.

Beside Rose's cage is the photograph that Hermione took of Harry and I after his first Quidditch game. I smile sadly at the photo. I really miss Harry. And Ron, of course I miss Ron.

Oh what am I doing? It's my own mind, I don't need to pretend like I don't fancy Harry.

Hermione walks over to me, glancing over my shoulder at the photo frame.

"Thinking of Harry are you?" Hermione she teases wiggling her eyebrows.

This, this is why I don't even admit things in my mind. Though she persistently tells me otherwise, I'm still convinced Hermione Granger possesses the ability to read minds.