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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𝒏𝒚𝒎𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔
────── *•. ⚡︎ .•*──────
Hermione woke up at eleven o'clock on the day of Harry's trial—which was really unusual since Mrs. Weasley had the habit of waking Hermione up in ungodly hours. She knitted her eyebrows together as she looked around the room. Ginny wasn't there anymore, and her bed was hastily done—something the redhead usually did, so she could tell her mum she did, indeed, make her bed. The only noise in the room was Vader's greeting hoots—the owl had perched on the window sill on the wall next to her bed.
"Hiya Skywalker!"
Hermione smiled at the owl as she sat up in the bed stretching her arms. The animal hooted in offense, shaking his wings.
"Honestly, you get burnt one time, and all of the sudden. . . ." Hermione huffed, waving her hands dramatically in the air with a roll of her eyes. The owl glared at her—if that's even possible—and turned to the window. "Come on Vader! It was a joke!" Hermione sighed and the owl continued to ignore her, so she shrugged it off with a huff.
Hermione quickly got dressed in some jean shorts and a random oversized t-shirt she had found in her trunk. She put her hair in a bun and brushed her teeth and whatnot in the bathroom. She watched herself in a mirror for a few moments and when she was satisfied she smiled at her reflection and headed downstairs—now, let it be known that Hermione wasn't that vain, but seeing herself look good in the mirror gave her a boost of confidence for the day. . . . Anyway. . . .
As she was about to head into the kitchen, she stopped herself before she even opened the door. She could hear everyone inside—better yet, she could feel them. There wasn't much noise, only legs bobbing up and down creating a thudding noise, bustling around—which Hermione assumed was Mrs. Weasley—and a lot of stress and tension-building noises. In fact, Hermione could feel the tension in the room in waves, hence why she decided against going in there, and being dragged down to their pit of sulkiness. She figured everyone was stressed about Harry's trial—which was completely understandable since they didn't know the outcome of the trial and whatever—, that must've been the reason no one had woken her up.
She quickly turned on her feet and made her way to the drawing-room. She plopped herself down on the couch and after observing the ceiling for a good thirty seconds, Hermione got bored and decided to try and summon her magazine wandlessly. She lifted her hand in the air, and scrunching up her face in concentration, she tried the incantation.
"Accio," she said out loud. Nothing happened at first but after her fourth trial, the magazine came soaring through the air onto her extended hand. She yelped letting the magazine fall.
