Title: The Granger Rebellion
Characters: Hermione/Charlie, Harry, Ron, and possibly others
Rating: PG13 right now…
Summary: Hermione is tired of being the good girl, and decides to rebel just as a certain wizard enters her life...
Author's Notes: I'm tempted to write this…it is my first bit of Harry Potter fiction, so I'm insanely nervous about posting it. Hope there's an interest in this story, if there is I'll continue it. Any constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms.
Hermione Granger was sick and tired of being predictable. She hated that her attempts at a revolt were quashed, and her disappearances were explained by getting caught up in the library. She was fed up alright, and it was time for her rebellion. The Granger Rebellion did have a nice ring to it…
He couldn't believe he was back on Hogwarts grounds. Honestly, after graduating he planned on going away to find himself. What was the muggle term? A mid-life crisis? Well Merlin, he didn't plan on only living to greet his early forties!
She stomped out of the Gryffindor common room, angry at the lack of attention she was getting. It was trivial and vain when she thought about it, but she was tired of being ignored. She couldn't help but realize that Harry and Ron had more to talk about that specifically required her absence.
"Boys suck." She mumbled, realizing she had reached the Great Hall. "That was a quick walk."
She must have lost herself in her thoughts again…typical of an insufferable know-it-all. She sighed deeply and stalked off in the direction of the kitchen. Some of the house elves still tolerated her; maybe she could get a decent coffee out of them.
"Better head up to the kitchen…" He told himself, realizing it was late and he had no way of feeding himself.
On his journey, not an epic one but a hike none the less, he passed a mirror mounted on the wall. He glared at his reflection unhappily. He was a lean sort of muscular, the sort of body you'd imagine a swimmer to have, with no obvious physical flaws. His hair was red and wild; a trait that defined his family and who he was before even spoke. A Weasley…one of seven children to be exact.
He pushed aside all thoughts of inadequateness that came with his family's reputation and studied his face. He had a cut across his cheek, it was actually an occupational hazard, and a faded scare over his lip.
"No wonder Bill's the cute one…" He murmured to himself in a self-deprecating manner.
She sat at a counter in the kitchen, absently sipping her coffee. The house elves had helped her after all; one even gave her a bar of chocolate with a careful smile. Sweet creatures really. Hermione looked around the kitchen, it was surprisingly busy for almost midnight. It occurred to her that the house elves probably worked all night in the event a bumbling student stumbled in craving coffee and chocolate. Yeah, she was definitely feeling like a loser. She glanced over at the entrance, noticing for the first time someone stood there. Not just someone, but a very gorgeous someone of the male Weasley variety.
"Charlie?" She nearly shrieked.
His eyes locked with hers, and a smile spread across his features.