Disclaimer:

I will only say this once, because it gets boring typing it for every chapter. I don't own any rights to Harry Potter or any of the characters within. That honor belongs to J.K. Rowling.

A reader mentioned a few things that I hadn't thought about. So I decided to fix that. The story as gone through a bit of editing.

Please enjoy this new and improved version.

DarkJestyr

Harry Potter and the Siren of Hogwarts

Chapter 1:

The Owl and the Pussycat

Crookshanks stretched, yawning lazily, from his favorite spot on his person's bed. He liked this spot because his person hardly ever used it, usually falling asleep in her armchair with a book in her lap. This odd kind of behavior was normal for his person. She was infamous for it as the particularly brilliant witch known as Hermione Granger. She was a good sort of person, although, there is something very odd about a person when reading takes priority over everything else. Like eating, sleeping and occasionally breathing.

Though lately something had been off, Crookshanks thought as he began to wash himself. She hasn't been reading as much and keeps leaving for the day only to come back exhausted. He figured she wasn't off visiting her friends at The Hollow or else she would be gone for weeks, or at least a few days. And she would have brought him along instead of leaving him at home alone all day. Where does she go…?

Crookshanks was staring at the armchair in the corner, twitching his tail in thought, when a tap at the window snapped him back to the world. It was a snowy white owl named Hedwig.

"Let me in you stupid cat. It's hot out here and too early for me to be seen out here," shrieked the bird, "Go get that girl of yours to open the window."

Owls, Crookshanks thought to himself with a scowl, always thinking they're better than you because they fly around with little pieces of paper in their beaks. He jumped up on the table below the window to see the owl better. "I wonder, if I leave you out there will you get all crispy like those chickens people eat?" he added with a very un-cat-like grin, "I like the crispy chicken."

"Funny…is that any way to talk to a friend? Just let me in will you, before someone notices."

"Alright, hold on to your snowy little tail feathers, I was just having a bit of fun is all." He jumped back down from the table and turned to face the owl. "Besides, the girl isn't even here and her parents are gone for now." I guess I don't really have any other choice.

In a flash, Crookshanks changed from an oversized ginger tomcat who looked as if he had been thrown into a wall face first one too many times, into a much larger form. Where the cat had stood before now stood a woman with dark brown hair and golden amber eyes.

Stretching her muscles, groaning in the pleasure of it, she deliberately ignored the impatient screeching coming from the owl on the other side of the window. Only after resetting the bones in her spine to their proper place did she turn back to the owl outside.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming."

Hermione closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh as she rested her head on the steering wheel of her mom's car. She couldn't even remember feeling so incredibly tired. Even being one of the best friends of the famous Harry Potter.

Since meeting him at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, all those years ago, she had been used as a rook in wizard chess, turned to stone by a basilisk, walked through time on a daily basis in order to take all her classes at once, chased by a werewolf, and sent to the bottom of the school lake. All the while fighting in the war against the Dark Lord, Voldemort, and his Deatheaters.

All that felt like nothing compared to working two jobs. Especially when with one of them, she was a witch working in a muggle shop. She got the idea after talking to her friend Neville Longbottom. Over the summer holiday, he was going to work in a muggle flower shop to learn a little more about plants.

After that, Hermione had decided to get a job of her own. She figured it would be nice to have her own money to pay for her own school supplies and have something for after her final year at Hogwarts. That and she had nothing really to do. Harry was home at his horrid aunt and uncles house, still grieving over his godfather, Sirius Black. And Ron was with his family, visiting his brother Charlie in Romania. Even her own parents were gone, away on a dentist's convention for a few weeks. What was worse was that she didn't even have a scrap of homework left to do.

So at the beginning of the summer, she had gone and gotten her license. Remembering how Harry and Ron had taken, flown and crashed Mr. Weasley's car into the Whomping Willow at the start of their second year had convinced her it would be more than a good thing to learn to drive a car. Besides she would never willingly fly a broomstick and might be living around muggles most of her life anyway.

It was a pretty easy matter, getting her license. All she really had to do was make a quick aging potion, temporarily of course, forge some papers and voila, she was ready for the road. The rules stating expulsion for under age magic said nothing about potions anyway.

That taken care of, Hermione went strait to Diagon Alley to apply to her favorite shop in the world, Flourish and Blotts. She had been hired almost instantly and set up things to work during the day to help with the afternoon rush.

This being settled, she then went looking for a muggle job. About a day after her parents had left she realized she needed muggle money for food and now fuel for the car. After some searching, she had found an opening as a stocking clerk at the local grocers.

Now she was finally home after a long night of moving boxes of crisps and crates of canned soups. She was certain that by the end of the summer, she would be able to literally pick up either Ron or Harry. Looking at the clock radio, Hermione let out a groan. It was almost midnight and she still needed to feed Crookshanks.

Getting out of the car, she looked up at the empty house and frowned. "Why is the light in my room on?" she muttered to herself, "And I don't remember leaving the window open."

Hermione pulled out her wand and made her way quietly toward the house. Just a month before she had fought Deatheaters at the Ministry of Magic, when Voldemort made it clear to the world that he had returned. She was still recovering from a few of her nastier wounds. If Voldemort was on the loose, "officially" according to the Ministry, then she certainly didn't want to be caught off guard.

She couldn't help but smirk a little maliciously to her self. She didn't want to be whoever was in her room once she got up there.

Author's note:

I hope you liked the it. Feel free to check out my profile for updates and send me ideas for later chapters.