I do not own Harry Potter. There done no need to write it again.

Hermione has been working on this project for weeks now. She was currently sitting on her fluffy pink mat. She had done almost several weeks of reading and preparation to make sure it doesn't go wrong. She had spent hundreds upon hundreds of days sitting on this mat previously, but today was the most significant. Her eyes were intently reading the pages of the book for what could've been the 30th time that day, checking for the slightest hint of a miscalculation or inaccuracy. She could have recited the pages verbatim after the second time of reading it, but this was too important. There could be no room for error. For five weeks she laboured. She stirred it the correct amount of times. Heated it to the correct temperature levels on the correct days. Added the chimaera essence at the correct time of day.

Its pearlescent amethyst colour indicated that everything had gone right. This was the most complicated potion she'd ever done. Its possibilities made it all the more exciting. Now at true midnight, it would be complete. One last ingredient.

Summer is almost over. It was mid-August and Hermione sat sprawled on her bedroom floor. Usually, she'd lay in this position reading her course books several times over but not this time. This year was going to mark the start of a new beginning in her life and not just because it is going to be the start of her NEWT courses. She was going to have a lot of time on her hands. Normally they had around 11 subjects but this year only seven. While reading will always be her passion, she sought a new challenge. She had already ventured into the world of wandless and wordless magic but this was new, the art of potion-making.

Her Potions book described the skill wonderfully really hitting home the art standpoint. It was the kind of thing that should have been given to first years to make them actually take the class seriously. She didn't even need to think long about giving this book to Ron for him to read. Difficult to be certain but any magical person with a passion for the subject could do if determined enough. Even Neville if he could get over his fear of Snape. It was definitely the sort of change this witch needed for her sanity.

The ministry was getting lax in its underage magic rules. Only a few threats of expulsion for wand magic and wandless, not that she was any good yet. You'd think spending so much time with Ron and Harry her studies would lessen but she just made up for lost time at home. This summer though her wand lay untouched on her desk, somehow, not a touch of dust on it like it was just set down seconds before. However neglectful the ministry is in monitoring the wands of underage witches and wizards, she wasn't going to risk it a third time. Instead, she turned to potion brewing, the book having piqued her interest. She wasn't certain if it was illegal or not but as long they didn't know it wouldn't hurt her nor them.

Her summer project was the simmering elixir in the cauldron in front of her. Watching this was the thing that kept her creative mind active and it made her barely notice that she was sitting on the floor watching a weirdly shaped bowl. She could watch this for hours. She leaned against her makeshift chair getting comfortable for the long watch. Her rather large dragon stuffed animal made for an ideal DIY bean-bag chair. It would take several hours for the moon to hit its peak and for true twilight to dawn for only a second before calming. One more ingredient at this time and the potion would be complete. Hermione waited patiently because it not only means that if she could complete this she could complete anything but that she finally does something she'd always wanted.

Several hours later, she shifted from her prone position and stretched with a satisfying crack of her limbs filled the air. Her body somehow escapes the numbness that starts when sitting in a position for too long. She surveys her room having noticed something swoop in from the window a few minutes ago. Hedwig had flown in and politely, Hermione assumed, waiting to be noticed and deliver her burden. "I wonder what Harry wrote this time?" She asked having already figured out the only possible explanation for the letter secured to Hedwig's leg. Harry had sent over several letters over the holidays and unless someone stole Hedwig for their own mail, this is yet another. The letter had squarish writing scrawled down with a quill, Harry's handwriting.

She had loads to tell Harry, but she didn't want to tell him all the things she was doing while he was stuck at home. She was sure he'd gotten enough of that from Ron. And considering she probably knew less about Voldemort than he did, both having not gone to Grimmauld Place she couldn't find something to write to him about. She spent hours writing to Harry in the afternoon thinking of the correct things to say. It didn't help that Dumbledore personally told both her and Ron to write to Harry.

She didn't quite understand why Dumbledore even felt the need to mention writing to Harry. She was going to do it anyway. He had approached her and Ron at the end of term and he somehow was able to come off as both kind and demanding that they keep in touch with Harry. Hermione could tell that Ron was puzzled as to why he felt the need to ask but hid it well. Instead, he played the card of being as thick as clotted cream and nodded dumbly. She didn't know why he did that, downplay his intelligence, but it was something he did often. And when he did Hermione learned to just play along and explained to Ron that with the loss of Sirius, Harry needs the support of his friends. And that it might stop him from doing something stupid. Quite honestly she thinks he did that so that she could have the opportunity to teach someone. It usually helped get her thoughts in order.

She tore open the letter and read its contents. The basics are the same thing he usually wrote.

Hello Mione,

Thank you for the support you guys have been giving me. You didn't actually need to but you did. I'm feeling nervous about everything the future holds. Are you? It's just here I am twiddling my thumbs and revising things I've already learned, like you suggested. And on top of that something tells me that I'm going to meet up with Voldemort again. I'm trying to get ready to protect everyone, you guys especially. I know I wouldn't last very long if something happened to either of you.

Our friend with the furry little problem wrote to tell me that they'll be picking me up on Monday to take me back home. Your going aren't you? I'm assuming you are. And if your parents say they won't let you hear are some suggestions: tell them you'll fail your exams and it will be their faults, tell them that your last letter would make your teeth fall out until you go, or better yet tell them their teeth will fall out.

I'm certain I know how Sirius felt now. I haven't left my house in six weeks. My legs would have already started the process of becoming mush if it wasn't for my random exercise times. I don't know how he managed it there for six months. I suppose having his best friend helps, or friends in my case, but Ron tends to mute his interests alot and I'd rather not spend 6 months playing wizard chess and loose everytime.

I'll probably see you soon. If you do find out anything you think I don't know owl me straight away. I am always here...


P.s. I know you have been doing some project all summer. Fill me in. I'd love to know.

Hermione chuckled to herself. Of course, he knew she'd be doing some sort of project. She liked it when he wrote. Not just because he took the time to do so but she liked to hear from him. Ron wrote on occasion too but you could tell he was usually too excited to send it by the inkblots and fasted paced writing. Harry, however, took his time. You could tell he took care not to spill ink onto the textured surface of the parchment. She knew that was mostly due to the fact that he had nothing better to do but it was nice nonetheless. And it was good to see he was taking her advice to revise. She didn't question it because if he really wasn't reviewing he would have said or just not mentioned it. She was laxer in her getting her friends to study, so if he hadn't he wouldn't have gotten the ten owls a day she would have sent back in second year. So the possibility of him lying just for some peace and quiet is pretty much non-existent. Still, if there was a reason he'd study harder, it would be the death of a family member. In this case a Godfather. Harry had already been hurt enough in his life, and the death of Sirius was just the icing on the cake. It hurt them all as well but just like always Harry would find a way to blame it on himself. His guilt would make him think he was responsible whether he was or wasn't.

She set the letter back in the envelope and put it with the others she's gotten over the years. On a rack, she bought just for this purpose. Next to it was monster stacks of books and journals. She looked back at Hedwig noticing she was still present. She was drinking from a water bowl she kept for tired owls to drink from. Hedwig didn't show any interest in Hermione which told her that Harry hadn't told her he wanted a swift reply.

"You can rest for a bit more here. If you so choose," she said as the female owl chirped in acknowledgement barely lifting her head from the water.

She decided she was going to write in the same vein she usually did. She would recount her most recent time but in a believably dull way. She knew this would make him feel better. Even if he didn't actually know why. It would make his sorry experience of a summer seem better by comparison. Like how his only slightly interesting stories made its way onto the parchment. Stories like how he'd do a new training regime for the week to get more athletic or how he used wandless magic to mess with Dudley and not get caught by the ministry.

Even though she hadn't started on the original letter she started in the second half of the letter. She got out two phones. She had saved up for months to get these. She worked multiple jobs over the last two summers. They were Motorola StarTAC, they just came out this year. She was originally going to get different ones but they seemed so perfect. It was so Harry could call her during the summer instead of owling. She wrote a quick note explaining what they were for and that her number was already installed inside of it. She also wrote what her current project was and that he could call her if he had any questions or wanted to hang out. She stuck one of the phones in a package and put the second letter in the envelope and put it on her desk. She needed a bit more time to think of what to write in the original letter and now wasn't the time.

"Okay, let's do this, Hermione," she said as she got up from her desk. Her potion was almost done. Her parents would be home soon and she needs to prepare. She needed to think of what to say. If she waited too long she would have to improvise. She'd have an hour after her parents got home but during that time she'd rather spend time with her parental figures. She liked the normally boring tasks of things like peeling vegetables if it meant more time with them. She only got to see them on holiday every year. So she treasured the moments before she was shipped back to the world magic.

Not being home year-round you start to notice things. The hair going slightly greyer, the wrinkles getting more pronounced. It only made her love her parents more. Harry never truly got to feel this way. If he noticed the way she'd come to appreciate them, he didn't say. But he wouldn't be Harry if he did notice the small things.

Though as long as she had her friends it was worth missing her parents. She could tell that the more time spent with them the more they fit as a group. Ron, for example, used to be extremely exhausting with the near-constant bickering. Now he had slightly matured and it happened less. He used to seem as though, he was laughing at her but now that was completely gone. He now argued with her in a way that sated both of their desires to have an in-depth conversation. Harry used to be quiet to an extent but now he didn't have trouble speaking his mind when in their presence. He was also showing more of his cunning than he would have felt comfortable in the house of lions previously. She even noticed the changes in herself. She was more relaxed, not as high strung. She enjoyed the time where she could just sit and chat with them. It used to be Harry noticing that Ron would subtly make fun of her and not mention it. It was almost like an unspoken truce. But as the years went by Ron stopped and he became more himself.

Before she sat down to think, she set up the last couple of things needed for measuring the twilight. The book said that the elaborate equipment she'd gotten was the most important part. It would need to be on a full moon so that the stars surrounding Mars reflected off the moon and gave an accurate counting of the Astro-magnetic balance.

Hermione sat down thinking of what to say as the second half of the countdown showed on the watch. What would it be like to use the potion? The first time it was supposed to be painful but it got easier. The book didn't explain in detail how it was supposed to feel but she got the basics. Turn into a boy for a day and be able to switch between the two for the rest of her life. If that wasn't something. She often wondered if she was truly meant to be only a girl. This thought process happened long before she met Harry and Ron but it had definitely become more noticeable. She was often very happy with what her body was. But some days it felt horrible and she couldn't tell why. But the thought of being a boy helped on those days. She learned it had nothing to do with liking boys or girls. It was all about her. She knew that some boys had a tendency to look several inches below a girls chin when they talked and that some tended to complain after going to a few shops but this wasn't as much for them to stop looking at her like a piece of cake as it was for her to feel right in the body she was given. She didn't do it because she didn't like to be stared at, quite the contrary, but to be more comfortable.

One day was all it took. Be a boy for a day and be able to switch between the two. She'd finally be able to see it from that perspective. She knew there were some stereotypes for the opposite gender but it wasn't that big a deal. She bought a new wardrobe of boy clothes that fit her style. She knew it'd be funny to walk around while a guy in girl clothes, but she decided to go all the way. She might just try it one day the Scottish seem to enjoy their skirts. Maybe she could finally hang out with Harry and buy some clothes together. Merlin knows he needs a new wardrobe as well, with his looking like they've been taken from a rabid dog.

She might actually decide to partake in some boy stereotypes. Talk about sports and eat with her mouth open. She knew that the potion would change her on a chemical level allowing her to truly be a boy when she switched so it might change some parts of her thinking process. She wasn't sure if she'd stay the same height, so she bought clothes several sizes larger just in case. It's possible the longer she spent as a boy the more likely she is to be taller. She even bought men's underwear understanding that the pants would be for someone younger. She wondered how large hers would be. She wasn't one of the girls to think of that sort of stuff so she's never seen one but she heard six inches was about average. It was going to be great. The freedom of being able to choose either one excited her. It would be euphoric, she'd bet.

She even bought new shoes. Her normal ones could pass as boy ones but it wouldn't feel the same. She assumed she'd grow into them if they didn't fit immediately. She didn't want to have to pinch a pair of her father's. She was excited to wear the boxers not only because she'd be living the young boys' dream but because she heard Ron and Harry talking about how comfortable they are. Even now she knew that the extra material used to make them was amazing.

She's already worn them but that was as Hermione Granger. She wanted to feel them as Him. She didn't care that her parents didn't raise her as "that kind of girl." She knew her parents would support her but that conversation was still a hurdle she'd have to jump over. The subject would definitely warrant worry but she could do this. She already knew that no matter how she phrased it, it'd sound weird. So she just needed to practice. She could say she couldn't be the only person who had ever wondered what it was to be the opposite gender. But then she'd have to explain why she chose the potion to be able to switch between the two. She knew she wasn't the only one, someone obviously took the time to create the potion. Her parents, however, might not understand. They were inclined to be cautious of magical things. Magic wasn't very sensible and they being very sensible thinkers with hard-learned dentist practices it made sense they'd be wary.

The front door rattled meaning her parents were home. She walked downstairs to the living room where her parents just entered.

"Hello, Honey. How's your day been? Bet you've been reading no doubt?" asked Michael Granger as he greeted her proudly.

"Yes, Daddy, some today," Hermione answered. She was nervous and it showed. The conversation would have to happen sooner or later and now was as good a time as any. She knew they'd be confused and it would be better to explain now; than have them find out later.

"We should have a talk. It's important," Hermione said as she took a deep breath. She noticed her daddy showing signs of slight worry as well as her mommy.

"You're not pregnant are you?" he asked sternly as he studied her stomach expecting to see something move under her jumper. Hermione was aghast. Did they really think so little?

"Daddy! I'm only sixteen. I'll have you know I'm still a virgin. Don't you trust me?" she asked obviously hurt.

"It's not that I don't trust you. I just don't trust teenage boys. I know what they are like at this age. And I know some of them have a way with words only to get the one thing on their minds," he said obviously speaking from experience.

"I know that too. Which is why I'm hurt you'd think I'd fall for that," Hermione said her voice steady and normal despite her anger. Her mommy finally said something and turned to Michael.

"You need to give Hermione credit. She isn't the sort of girl to get into that kind of trouble. You know how smart she is. Give her more credit." Great now her mum was on a rant. If she knew if she let this continue they'd get sidetracked then it would take ages to bring it back to before.

"As I was saying," Hermione said raising her voice to get her parents' attention. "This summer I brewed a potion." She practised this plenty of times in the mirror she wouldn't falter now. She could feel herself starting to squirm under the collective gaze of her parents but she pushed on; her voice remaining steady.

"It must be something important to you if you feel you need to tell us. It is illegal isn't it?" her mother jokes.

"No. Maybe? Probably? Definitely," Hermione answered sounding particularly innocent. It didn't alleviate the worries of her parents only making it worse.

"Why would you risk it? You could get expelled!" her father panicked and started pacing. She grabbed her father stopping him.

"It's fine. Whether it's illegal or not unless one of us tells the ministry they'll never know. But yes, there is a strong possibility that if you told them I would get expelled," she waved off not even noticing her tone suggested that she did this all the time.

"They wouldn't send you to Alcatraz or whatever would they?" Her mother asked worriedly.

"Azkaban. And no they couldn't but even if they could they shouldn't know." She knew her parents were on board when their eyes held the determination not to let their only child be expelled.

"What will this mystery potion you made do?" Michael asked unsurely.

"It will allow me to turn into a boy."

Silence filled the air, broken by the sound of a body slumped to the floor. Mrs. Granger had passed out. She awoke in the kitchen with Hermione and her husband looking over her less than a minute later. She lay there for several minutes as her brain tried to make sense of why she was on the floor. "You fainted," Michael said clearly, bringing a glass of water to her lips as she sat up. She nodded after taking a sip to show she understood.

"Probably because I said I took a potion to turn me into a boy," Hermione added, figuring she wasn't going to remember on her own for a few more minutes. Hermione chose her words carefully because she knew that if they knew the potion sat in her room waiting to be finished they wouldn't allow it. They would sooner dump it in the bin or down the sink before they knowingly let her take it.

"Why would you do that to yourself? Aren't you happy the way you are?" Monica asked as she stared teary-eyed at her daughter. "If it's because you are confused about your feelings or emotions. And that you find yourself thinking girls are pretty then it's perfectly normal. There was no need to be drastic." Hermione wasn't prepared for this reaction. Shouting maybe but not this. She expected a response akin to anger, not sadness.

"I am sorry I hurt you this way, Mum. But to be honest, sometimes I'm not okay with the way I am and know it has nothing to do with liking girls but to feel comfortable. The potion only lasts for a day after that I can choose which one I'd rather be. And if I don't like it, I can just decide to go back the following day."

"You can switch back the next day? You're certain if it?" Michael said with a sliver of hope in his voice. Monica looked up with a tiny smile and dried her tears a little.

"Certain. I got the idea for the end of year exam. We will be tested on our potion-making skills. We can choose only one of the five, this is similar to one of them. It is actually harder. I am using this to get some practice. If I could do this I can do that one. And I may not be completely happy with my body but that's what this potion will do. You'll still have your daughter on some days. I hope you don't think I'm funny in the head. And it helps my grades; I hope you can understand."

She cast each of her parents a childish unsure smile. It was a mixture of the one she used to her get way and uncertainty. Her parents gave hesitant looks to each other. They were worried she'd wouldn't be able to change back if she didn't like it. They would have it that she never drank it in the first place, but they knew she could be stubborn when it came to things she wanted.

"I guess I've always wondered what it was like to have a son?" Her father gave in with a shrug. Hermione's smile was outright beaming at the approval. She was so happy but she wanted to make sure they understood.

"If this works as well as I think it will, you guys will sometimes have a daughter other times a son. Neither will be all the time. But I may choose one for weeks or months on end. Is that okay?"

"Of course it is, Sweetheart. We might not completely understand but you're perfect in every way. And if you decide to have kids I'd bet they'd be perfect too," Monica said hugging her daughter. Hermione knew that there was no doubt that her parents loved her but she knew that they could have just stayed in denial about it. It was always nice to physically hear her parents say they love her.

After a long and tiresome discussion about Hermione's plan and reasoning. They stopped worrying and her mother's tears came to a halt.

"I accept that you've done it and what it entails but couldn't you have waited till term started or school ended?" Her mother said as she began getting ingredients and pots ready for dinner.

"Because I want my last years of school to be comfortable and I wouldn't have an area to practice. A potion such as this takes time to make. And I don't think I could wait until the end of my school career. It's also best for you guys to get used to seeing me as a boy," Hermione said remaining calm after explaining yet again why she did it now.

"Okay, but you said yourself it was illegal! You never used to break the rules when you were younger. And you never had these thoughts. It is those Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley boys, right? They are always getting into trouble. They are obviously a bad influence on you."

"Mum we went over this yes I did. I just didn't think it was possible to be both. And if you're trying to start telling who I can be friends with..." Hermione said as she stopped helping to look at her mother warningly.

"No no of course not. I would never try to control you like that. Just stating an observation I've made. "

"They are both great. They are like my brothers. And you can't judge them from the few minutes you've met them before. I would never just stop being friends with them because they lack the ability to draw the line where the fun ends and trouble starts," she said more roughly than she had intended.

" Why haven't you changed yet? You have already taken the potion, right?" Her father asked in as much a conversational tone he could muster. "You don't look any different. I mean, presumably, you will be changing quite a bit, becoming taller and stuff?"

"I should imagine so. Yes," Hermione said as she faltered, almost letting them in on the fact she didn't know everything about it. She continued in a knowing tone before her parents could dwell on it. "These types of things take time to come into effect. The book mentions something along the lines of it happening once I go to sleep," she manoeuvred. "Once I do change, can you do me a favour? I need my hair to be cut. I wouldn't really feel like a boy unless my hair is shorter. It wouldn't make much sense for me to have to tie my hair up or wear a hat over it. Not that some guys don't have long hair but I'd rather not be a guy with long hair. "

"But what if it doesn't grow back when you're a girl. If that happens your hair wouldn't grow back by the start of school? I can't imagine when you're a girl you will want to have a boy's haircut," Monica said with a small laugh.

"You needn't worry about that. The potion makes it so that any changes on one body doesn't transfer to the other unless it's like a bruise or the subject, me, wants a change to transfer," she said as she flashed her mother an award-winning smile as she started helping her mother cook.

"It seems like she learned all she could about this potion," said Michael from the cupboard his head was currently stuck in. "What do you expect, Darling? This is Hermione!"

After that eventful dinner ended, the family made quick work of cleaning the kitchen, washing the dishes, and putting up leftovers. When Hermione finished, she excused herself and left for her room. She needed to prepare the tools and equipment needed to measure twilight.

Her parents thought it would be best if she didn't tell anyone; however, Hermione disagreed. She couldn't keep this big a change from her brothers, Harry and Ron. They've been together for five years already. If she couldn't tell them this what was the point of having people to confide in. And Ms. McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey would have to know, too, encase she got hurt.

When she got to her room she knelt down in front of her bed and pulled out a large black case. She silently unclipped the buckles that held the items inside secure. She diligently lifted the lid to reveal a set of delicately carved crystal rods and disks. Each one cut to perfection, needed for the precise measurements of the alignment of the moon and Mars, thousands of miles away. She removed what was to an uneducated person to be a pewter telescope, when in fact it was the exact opposite. It was used to allow the moon to be meticulously located on a chart as a tiny circle of light. She could see it moving into position very slowly.

She adjusted the astrological chart on her floor and used a compass so it was at the exact angle to true north. Her hair frizzed in anticipation for the flash that would change her life, even though there were still several hours left. She busied herself by pulling out a pencil case inside one of her drawers specifically for math-related things and withdrew a dozen different rulers, protractors, and compasses. She started sketching marks and lines across the paper until she had an incredibly detailed chart a half-hour later, and one small dot that marked where the special moonlight would need to fall.

Once she finished, she set about getting out the changeling essence. It was the hardest thing she had to get; not even second to Chimera essence. She not only had to venture into Knockturn Alley but the shop she entered was only used by dark wizards. It was one of the times her intellect felt more like a gift than a curse. It also helped her parents were still naive about the dangers involved. If they truly understood, she wouldn't be here waiting for her potion. She measured out the exact amount needed, to the drop. It was a translucent blue colour, almost electric and it held a miscellaneous candy odour. It wasn't lethal but if not taken in a potion it will permanently change your species into the organism it was taken from. Its consistency was that of water, almost lighter. Its texture was that of silk, harder to hold than even water. The clerk said that unless poured correctly it wouldn't come out of its container, so the likely chances of spilling were infinitesimal.

It was still several hours before it was time to add the last ingredient. Hermione's parents almost came to check on her twice but decided against it. They were curious about whether the transformation took place but decided to wait till Hermione came to them. Hermione spent a couple of hours writing a reply to Harry's letter. She made sure she remembered to mail a phone and envelope with the letter. She had spent almost 2,000 on the two phones for her and Harry but she knew that this would be important to him. After Hedwig left, she decided to go to take a nap. The moment of true twilight wouldn't happen until about one o'clock, so she had plenty of time. She also figured that if she slept now she wouldn't have to sleep nearly as much later, and she won't be as tired. She did not want to waste valuable time sleeping.

In order to check how much further along the dot of moonlight was to the pinpoint location on the chart, she set her alarm to go off at half-hour intervals. About the seventh time she woke up, she saw that only five minutes left until the moonlight hit. Her parents have gone to sleep. The quiet, darkness of the house meant that they have been asleep for quite some time.

She waited excitedly for the last few minutes to tick by. Clammy hands handled the vial of changeling essence. She slowly knelt in front of the simmering cauldron, her knees on the soft carpet below. Two more minutes. As she moved the vial closer to the cauldron the changeling essence started changing colour from an electric blue to emerald green like one the closeness changed the chemical composition of the liquid. She turned back to the chart where only three millimetres separating the two minutes. Less than a minute now. She drew out a small magnifying glass before lowering it and peering closely with one eye.

Just four millimetres. She was confident of her skills, this was going to work out perfectly. She was almost shaking with joy at the future prospects. Three millimetres. This is going to be great, and according to the book, the differences between the bodies could be huge if spent enough time in them. Two millimetres. Everything was dependent on the accuracy and balance of her calculations like if the pencil to draw the lines was dull, or not sharpened correctly, and she would get the wrong time. One millimetre. She wasn't actually nervous; she thought she should be, but the excitement for the next phase of her life overwhelmed it. She thought as she tilted the vial and said goodbye to having only one to choose. One day now. The rest of her life later. The moon was on the fifth and vial was emptied. Hermione looked away from the chart to the final ingredient which she was pouring. It was falling, sliding down almost like molasses; like it was falling in slow motion. It seemed to move as if gravity had no hold over it as it sludged toward the mixture below. It lubricated the air towards the simmering surface and Hermione cast a quick look up at the spectacular full moon.

She had never seen a moon like it. Normally a full moon was just that a full moon but not this one; it was nothing like all the others. She only saw it for a second, but it was already implanted into her mind. The sky was cloudless and the stars were glistening. No part of the moon couldn't be seen, like the way it was darker in some areas than it was in others. A distorted face looking down at her. It had a small ring of darkness that surrounded the luminous disk. She felt like she could even see the original moon landing point

Splashes from the task in front of her returned her to reality. She saw the potion bubbling aggressively. The shock waves spread out from the centre a veil of darkness seemed to be pulled across it as it shifted from its bright colour into what appeared to be coal tar. A second later, a second wave from the centre washed it away like a film covering. It was replaced by the most violent shade of yellow she had ever seen. It was like looking at the sun itself, without the certainty of becoming blind. The light from the potion washed over her and gave the room a bright glow. It fills Hermione with euphoria. The colour slowly started to fade after a few seconds. Like colours fade in the sun or wet paint washes away in the rain. A gunshot-like sound erupted from the concoction causing droplets to spill over the boundaries. The noise was sure to wake her parents. A large plume of smoke rose up into the air and sunk down to the ground where it spread like early morning mist. The potion was completed.