The Witch That Time Forgot | Newtmione ✔️

Chapter 2 | A Flickering Flame

¡THIS IS NOT MY STORY! The story was make by nyxblack on fanfiction.net.

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A loud thump followed by a loud girlish laugh rang through the halls of the Three Broomsticks Inn. Just behind a sturdy wooden door of a private room a low groan could be heard filling the room. Mind you there was no one there to hear it aside from the lone occupant, one Hermione Jean Granger.

Brown eyes stared at the ceiling, a single arm throw over her head in an attempt to block out the sunlight. Untangling herself from the sheets with a huff she swings her legs over the edge of the bed settling into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands, the tangled, bushy mass of hair atop her head looking like a striking imitation of rat's nest sticking up every which way. The pounding in her temples a sure sign of the beginnings of a nasty hangover. She licks her lips desperate for water. Running her hands down her face another groan escapes her lips as she staggers to her feet and begins her journey to the small bathroom, the previous night's events playing through her head.

Pushing the sleeve of her sleek black pea coat up to reveal a small wrist watch she checks the time. 7:38 pm it reads. Home early for once, maybe even before Ron. Blowing a stray piece of hair from her face she quickens her pace, her low heels clacking against the pavement with each step, a package of take-away dangling from her fingers. A large black leather purse slung over the opposing arm.

Having finally made her way to the clean but small bathroom she strips before stepping into the shower. She doesn't wait for the water to warm before she steps in. Cold water assaulting her senses, startling her awake. She grits her teeth waiting for the water to heat up until finally with a small sigh escaping her lips and the hot water begins to soothe her aches and pains. Tangling her nimble fingers into her righteous tangle of curls she gets to work on her hair.

She arrives at her apartment not long after. Making quick work of the door before stepping into her apartment. Taking in the scene she sighs at the mess, clothes thrown over the couch, books stacked haphazardly on many of the surfaces, a few bottles strewn about the floor. Slipping her heels off she steps onto the plush carpet her toes sinking into the plush material. Making her way to the fully furnished kitchen she drops her keys on the bar in passing. A mixture of muggle and magical items on display. Setting the take-away on the counter she shrugs off her coat. Just as she begins to open up the take-away she hears a noise from the bedroom.

Her eyelids drop as her fingers ease conditioner through her hair from root to tip. Teasing the tangles from her hair with practiced ease. Her lips purse as her memories continue to assault her senses.

"Ron?" Hermione calls softly.

With no answer forthcoming she calls her wand to her hand with a bit of wandless magic. A sense of calm washes over her as her fingers wrap around the familiar smooth wine wood of her wand. Alert and vigilant she makes her way swiftly and quietly across the carpeted floor her wand held steadily before her, ready to strike at a moment's notice. She peers cautiously around the corner leading to the hall before settling her gaze on the door to the bedroom her and Ron share. A thump followed by a girlish laugh fills the air. The sound slightly muffled by the hardwood door. She bites her lip her mind racing. Her heart rate increasing. A feeling of unease filling her.

Turning off the rapidly cooling water she steps out of the shower wrapping a thin but comfortable towel around her body before leaving the room. Cold air caresses her rapidly drying skin as she sticks an arm, elbow deep into her suitcase. Searching around a bit before pulling out all she needs for the day. Dropping her towel on the floor she makes quick work of her clothes before heading back to the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day.