The rattling of golden silverware from downstairs was making quite the racket. In Hermione’s twin-size baby pink canopy bed, she was furiously scribbling in her diary.

Dear Diary, you’ll never believe what happened! It has been so unfair. My mother had told me that her side descended from English royalty, but what she never told me was that she was a... um... I don’t really know. But what I do know, though, is that I’m set to be princess in four weeks time. Princess! In four weeks time! Everyone is calling me “Miss,” or, “Princess Hermione,” and it’s downright stressful! One more complication, though, is that I have to choose between the royal life and the magical life! Obviously I’m not going to give up being a witch, but what will everyone say when their ‘Princess’ disappears?


Hermione POV

I finish writing in my diary, and hear footsteps leading up to my unnecessarily large bedroom, and moments later I hear a faint knock on the grand wooden door, that is, again, unnecessary. “Come in.” I say quietly, wondering who’s at the door, but when the door swings open, it’s just the housekeeper, Missy. (Make that castlekeeper.) “Oh, hello, Miss! Just here to to a bit of cleaning-up!” She says cheerily. She’s done, quote unquote, ‘Cleaning-up’ nearly twenty times so far, and I’ve been here for nearly two days! Though, I’ll be sneaking away to, well, anywhere but here tomorrow, and one of the things I’ll miss is having a personal clean-up service whenever I need it. I might try to sneak off to Hogwarts, to ask McGonagall a question before the year starts. Apparently, I might not have to choose between royalty and magic, apparently there’s magic in the family. What I don’t know is who. If I’m correct, I’d be a Pureblood. A Nott, to be more specific. Theodore’s... second cousin? Maybe third? I’ve looked into the family tree, and I haven’t heard of a long-lost Nott, but anything that’ll let me have both worlds. McGonagall would know, she’d always know anything. I chuckle at this, remembering that children’s muggle song. Missy looks over at me. “Something wrong, dear?” She asks, and I shake my head. I start humming the tune of the song that I used to listen to when I was a kid.

You get the best of both worlds
Chill it out, take it slow
Then you rock out the show
You get the best of both worlds
Mix it all together, and you know that it's the best of both worlds
The best of both worlds, yeah

I smile, and forget the rest of the lyrics. Even though I used to listen to this in my childhood, I technically still am a kid. I’m turning eighteen tomorrow, which is what they’re planning a dinner party for. I’ll try to find out who’s magical here, try to spot any guests I know from Hogwarts, recognize from Diagon Alley, et cetera. Oops. The dinner party. I hurry to my large wardrobe, and skim through the party dresses. The mermaid styles, the cocktail dresses, the pantsuits, and I stop at the ballgowns. I’ve never worn one before, could be fun. I pass a large yellow one, wrinkle my nose at a fluffy hot pink gown, and come to a halt at a breathtaking periwinkle gown, traditional but pretty, and it reminds me of Beauty and the Beast.
I quickly dress into it, with help zipping up from Missy, and prance around the room, singing,

Tale as old as time
True as it can be
Barely even friends
Then somebody bends
Unexpectedly
Just a little change
Small to say the least
Both a little scared
Neither one prepared
Beauty and the beast
Ever just the same
Ever a surprise
Ever as before and ever just as sure as the sun will rise
Ever just the same
Ever a surprise
Ever as before
Ever just as sure
As the sun will rise
Tale as old as time
Tune as old as song
Bittersweet and strange
Finding you can change
Learning you were wrong
Certain as the sun
Certain as the sun
Rising in the east
Tale as old as time
Song as old as rhyme
Beauty and the beast
Tale as old as time
Song as old as rhyme
Beauty and the beast
Beauty and the beast

After I am finished, (and exhausted from skipping all around) I plop on the bed, laughing up a storm, as if I’m at a comedy film. All of a sudden, I hear pecking at the window, and turn to it quickly. I see a large barn owl. Oh no. Errol. I jump up, and run as fast as I can to the windows. I shut the curtains, and shoo Missy out of the room. “Okay, thanks! Bye now! Have a great dayyy-” I finish, and dash back to the window. I pull open the curtains and quickly open the window to an exasperated Errol. I take him inside, and rest him on an armchair. What do owls eat? Besides owl treats and mice? I lock the door from inside, then blaze out of the room, down to the kitchens. I grab a loaf of homemade French bread from the breadbox, and go back up to my room to the sound of wild hooting and screeching. I didn’t know Errol had this much energy. I try to open the door, but realize I locked it. Stupid Hermione! I try to apply force to the door, but it still doesn’t work. I slump down against the doorway, pondering what I should do next. I suddenly have a bright idea, and grab the bobby-pin out of my hair, and jam it in the small lock. I swerve it around, and everything, but it still doesn’t work. I guess it only actually happens in spy movies. I now have no ideas, until I get a crazy one. I kick the door with my stiletto, using all the force I could gather. It also doesn’t work, and I end up with a sore ankle, and bent stiletto. I feel like banging my head against the wall, because I just remembered something. I hid a key in the houseplant beside my door. I grab the iron key, jam it in the lock and turn it, and turn the door handle. I swing open the door to find about a half dozen owls in my room. Snowy owls, barn owls, night owls, eagle owls, etc. My eyes travel to the still open window and now I REALLY feel like banging my head against a wall.
I have another idea, but my so-called ‘bright’ ideas haven’t been turning out so well lately. It’s worth a try, though. I through a slice of the bread out of the window, and three of the owls dive for it. Another piece. Two more owls. Now I’m left with just Errol and a random snowy owl. I throw two more pieces of bread out the window, and the random owl goes diving for them, now leaving just Errol. I sigh, and I close the windows immediately. Only now do I give Errol the remaining bread, and take the letter from his beak. Before opening it, I notice it’s addressed for me, with no additional name, so I just know it’s one of the Weasleys.

Dear Hermione-
We need to talk. The Ministry has received startling information and I find it that you should know this.
-Arthur Weasley.

I think of this as normal at first, because being the only female in the Golden Trio, I often get notified of Ministry things. But now I consider the circumstances. I mean, I’ve never gotten a note from Mr. Weasley before, unless you’d count that time where I got a birthday card from all the Weasleys. And what could possibly be so startling that he had to tell me himself? I hope that everyone’s ok. I grab a golden, ruby-studded comb off of the large vanity, and run it through my silky, curly, brown hair. I quickly drop the comb when I remember that I just got my hair dyed, and that I shouldn’t comb it yet. I grab some parchment, and a flamingo feather quill, and write a reply back to Mr. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley-
Sure! When?
-H. Granger

It’s a short reply, but I don’t feel like it should be any longer. It gets right to the point, which I am curious about. I give it to Errol, and open the window back up, so that he can fly out. As soon as he does, I shut the window, and turn to the door, about to unlock it. That’s when I realize it isn’t locked. Or even closed. But wide open, with one of my aunts leaning against the door post. “Care to tell me what this was about?” She asks, clearly amused. I’m nervous, but try to plaster a casual smile onto my face. “I-I-.... I-I was just sending a... a letter!” I shout out the last two words, and I’m guessing it wasn’t too convincing. She smirks. “Before that.” She asks, though knowing the answer. “I-I-I... uh..um...I-I was....”, I stammer. She smiles at me knowingly. She offers her hand to me, and I guess she’s going to take me somewhere. I grab her hand, and feel the swirly, somewhat unpleasant sensation of apparating. I’m used to this feeling, but why am I apparating? Wait a minute. She might be the magical link to this family! I open my eyes, just realizing that they were closed, and am greeted by a sea of people, two of whom I recognize.