Upside Down

Hey everyone! Welcome to my new story! I will warn you now...the lemons will take a little time to mature...but when they arrive......*whoo!!!* Now this story is going to be fun. I get to cross two favorite things: Americans and Harry Potter. Oh let the insanity ensue!!!
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Hermione stretched out on the bed, her laptop open in front of her. There was a steady tapping sound as her fingers flew against the flat keys. Her mouth quirked up on one corner in concentration as she finished the sentence, the quirk slowly morphing into a full grin when she finished.

No one would ever guess that Hermione Granger, Hogwarts brightest witch in centuries, actually participated in such a base and earthy activity. She wrote erotic short-stories. ‘Bodice rippers,’ as they were so fondly named. She published her short-stories in groups, and under a false name. Norma Greer Hinge was actually quite popular among the ladies, the name contrived of an anagram of her legal name. She noted with a hidden pleasure that Molly, and even the level-headed Luna, had more than one of her stories.
Poor Luna had even gotten her a few of them for her birthday…

“They’re well-written…you know…for what they are…” the blonde had said airily, grinning at her friend.

Yes….Hermione liked to write dirty stories. But that didn’t make her any less of a woman. Neither did the several degrees she had attained….very carefully, of course. See, the War had been going on for quite a while now, each side at a near stand-still. Harry couldn’t come up with a plan to defeat He-Who-Was-Never-Hugged-As-A-Child, and neither could the Dark Fuck come up with a plan to take down The-Boy-Who-Wouldn’t-Fucking-Die…

So Hermione had decided that during the stand-still, while things were at an uneasy peace, she would pursue some degrees. She was already a Potions Mistress, and was only a Master’s piece away from claiming a nice Transfiguration degree. She was also a qualified Healer, a formidable author, and a closeted computer junkie. She had built the very laptop she worked on by hand from scratch. Sigh….it felt good to be uncannily brilliant.

But truth be told, things were getting rather boring in the wizarding world. The fighting was sporadic at best….random, unorganized….Hermione feared it might turn into a Cold War before it could be resolved. Harry was always training, just on the off-chance Voldemort himself would come out of hiding to fetch himself a carton of milk… Hermione imagined that meeting would be one to see.

“Oi! What are you doing here, Voldemort?”

“I’m getting milk and eggs, Potter….”

“Oh…well…while you’re here….you think we should…you know…duel?”

“Hmm…I don’t know, Potter….these eggs will go bad if I don’t get them in the cooler…”

Hermione snorted to herself at the wild imagery she was flitting through her pleasantly curled head of hers.

She had graduated Hogwarts over five years ago, using her quick and brilliant mind to zoom through her higher education like a prodigy.

In that five years, she was happy to report that she had become more…womanly. Her bushy brown hair had seemed to tame itself, forming soft ringlets that she kept clipped short, framing her face and head like a honey-brown halo. Her eyes, once dark with youth, had seemed to lighten to an almost golden hue, and had the tendency to almost glow when they hit the light. Her skin was pale from staying inside with her books so often, but she had the frame of mind to go outside just enough to make the skin look alabaster instead of sickly.

Her breasts and hips had filled out and her waist had shrunk, giving her a desirable hourglass figure. But these days not many saw it, as she tended to wear slightly large clothes to lounge around in. It’s not like Harry or Ron cared. Ron…

She had tried dating him shortly after Hogwarts, only to realize that he was in short a selfish, slightly chauvinistic wizard. Hermione had also discovered that she wouldn’t put up with it, and they had ended their relationship on marginally friendly terms. She would probably never forgive him for saying she should stop being selfish with her books (and he had the nerve to call them worthless!) and settle down to make him happy. He had walked around the rest of the day with a sore face…

Hermione closed her laptop with a click, and rolled over on her back. Today was probably just going to be another boring day. She would eat some lunch, go to the bookstore, come back home and study, and then be back off again somewhere in her small flat either reading or working on her short stories.

She wished Voldemort would get his lily-white arse in gear so that Harry could kick it ‘round the block a few times.

She was startled out of her amusing reverie by a knock on the door. Cautiously, she drew her wand from its sheath in her sleeve, and crept towards the door, slightly off to the side and out of direct firing range should the door be knocked down. Instead of looking through the peephole (she’d seen waaaay too many Muggle scary movies to be pulling that trick…), she cast a small spell on an area near the door, which became transparent, allowing her to see her visitor.

An adolescent teenage girl stood in front of her door, chewing her lip nervously. There was a small duffle bag at her feet, and she kept looking at a rather sad-looking piece of paper that had been stained, folded, and torn into paper rags.

The girl could be no older than fifteen or sixteen, and was rather petit, like Hermione herself. The stranger, however, had glossy dark brown hair, straight as a stick, that fell to just past her shoulders. The stranger looked around, and when her eyes hit the light Hermione noticed they were a brilliant green that could make Harry’s eyes look dull. She didn’t appear to be a threat, so Hermione carefully stashed her wand (unsure if the girl was Magic or Muggle) and opened the door.

“Yes?” she asked, plastering a smile on her face.

“Are…are you Hermione Granger?” the girl asked softly. Hermione noticed right away that she was American, her accent giving her away. The tone of the accent, however, Hermione wasn’t familiar with. It sounded as if she were Southern….but that was just her conjecture by the way the girl had pronounced the ‘er’ sounds in her name…

“My name is Ruby Grangeford. I…I need your help.” The girl said softly, her dark brows furrowing nervously.

“My help? Well…what is it you need help with?” Hermione asked, feeling slightly awkward. A stranger appeared at her door, knowing her name, and asked for help…..odd…

“Well…it’s kind of a loooong story…” Ruby said, sighing softly.

“Oh….well…come in….I’ll make us some tea…”

“Oh my various gods no!” Ruby said. Hermione’s eyes widened slightly. Ruby looked thoroughly embarrassed, and cleared her throat. “What I mean is…no thank you….I’m not overly fond of Engish tea….bein’ American and all…” she said, a slight flush appearing on her cheeks.

“Oh. How about some soda, then?” Hermione asked, trying to be accommodating.

“That’s…that’s fine…” Ruby said.

They sat on Hermione’s sofa in relative silence, sipping their drinks.

“I guess I should start at the beginning…” Ruby said, and took a deep breath. “Well…about four months ago me and my dad came over here for a bit of a vacation. We were celebrating ‘cause I graduated High School early…” she said, for a moment looking quite pleased. “Well…he got into an accident…and passed away. I have no money to get home…not that it’d matter…I have no other family. My mom died, both my parents were only children, and the same story for their parents before them. Well…the…er…the government decided to get involved, since I’m only sixteen. They looked through my family tree, and found out I have some relatives over here. Uh….that’s where you come in…cousin.” She said softly.

Hermione took a deep, shaky breath. “So…I’m your relative….and you need a place to stay? I really don’t want to sound rude….but…do you have proof?” Hermione asked, her cautious nature kicking in.

“Oh! ‘Course I do! I wouldn’t show up without it!” Ruby exclaimed, reaching for her duffle bag. Hermione’s hand inched towards her wand, although she sincerely hoped she wouldn’t need it. Ruby pulled out a small folder, and handed it to Hermione. Hermione opened the folder, and started.

“This is from the Ministry of Magic!” she said, looking up at Ruby, a shocked expression on her face.

“Well duh! I’m a witch, stupid!” she said, drawing a slender wand from an inside pocket of her jacket. “The Minister…uh…what’s his name? Big sexy black guy….” She said.

“Shacklebolt?” Hermione supplied, once again feeling awkward. She had never met anyone who thought Kingsley was ‘sexy.’ Big and black, yes….but he was almost like an uncle to Hermione, and she didn’t find him attractive in a sexual way…

“Yeah, him!” Ruby said, grinning. “He said that you’d be the best person to take me on…if you were willin’. If not…I have to go into an orphanage until I’m of legal age…” she said, and sat back against the sofa. “You’re my last hope. I can’t go with anybody else from your family, because I’m a witch. Please…I don’t want to go to an orphanage…” she said, putting her hands together to plead.

“Look…I’ll have to think about this….” Hermione said. Ruby’s face fell.

“Oh…well…thanks for inviting me in…thanks for listening…” she said, reaching down to gather her bag.

“I didn’t say no….and even if I did say no…I wouldn’t tonight. I wouldn’t think of casting you out before at least feeding you and giving you a nice place to sleep. I’m sorry about both your mother and father, but I hope you’re finding your stay in England enjoyable…aside from the war, that is…” Hermione said, smiling.

“Oh…this place is beautiful. Some of the food is…not what I’m used to…but it’s a great place…” Ruby said, grinning.

Hermione smiled, and then led Ruby to her small guest room. She helped the girl put away her meager possessions, and showed her around the flat.

“Oh…that’s something I haven’t gotten used to, yet. The word ‘flat.’ We call ‘em ‘apartments.’ But…everybody has their quirks, I guess…” Ruby said. Hermione smiled at the strange American.

“Well…I haven’t much food here to prepare for two…so…I guess we’ll go out tonight.” Hermione said. Suddenly Ruby launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around Hermione. Hermione was surprised, but quickly responded, patting the girl’s shoulder.

“Thank you, cousin. This means a lot to me…” she said. Hermione squeezed Ruby gently.

“No problem, Ruby. What good is family if they don’t take you in when you’re down?”
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Hmm....strange American cousin....hee hee hee. As always, I will hound you guys until you review...but that is, of course, if you don't review.... but I know you guys better than that...you'll review....of course you will...

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