A/N: Despite this being a MMHG fic, a relationship between them while she is still at school would be illegal, and I don't think either of them would do that. Sorry if you just want fluff, but then this isn't the story for you.

Wednesday 25th July and Hermione Granger had just woken up to the sound of her mother calling her name up the stairs. Deciding she'd much rather stay in bed that little while longer than admit to the daylight creeping through her curtains, Hermione didn't move.

"Hermione, up, post!"

The word 'post' certainly made her move, and Hermione thundered down the stairs in her pyjamas to give a quick thanks to her mother, and snatched the thick envelope from her hand. She ran back upstairs with it towards privacy, dropping onto the bed to read it. She stared suspiciously at the envelope in her hands for a while, for it was glistening with emerald green ink and read, as plain as the eye could see:

Miss H. Granger

2nd Bedroom

12 Merchant Crescent,

Newbury

"What a strange way to address a letter," she said to herself, turning over the envelope and running a finger over the wax seal. "But wax seals haven't been used in, well, a long time," she muttered, getting more and more confused by the minute. She reached across the table for her letter opener and made a slit at the top, when two more sheets slid out. She picked up the first, as it seemed more official, and read.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc. Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Hermione frowned as she re-read the letter, throwing it onto the side table to read the second sheet, and snorted as she threw both letters in the bin. "Witch indeed, there's no such thing," she muttered before walking out of her bedroom and slamming the door.

After breakfast, Hermione returned to her room and took the pieces of could it be parchment? from her bin. Shaking her head, she sat back down on the chair and took the second piece of no, just thick paper, no-one uses parchment anymore. She laughed at the irony of having such a simple statement of, "all pupils' clothes should carry name tags," next to a list containing none other than a cauldron.

"Mustn't forget it has to be pewter, and whatever "standard size two" is," she said, with a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

Giggling to herself, she re-read from the beginning trying to wonder what it was all for, "Well, goodness, they even have pointy hats. Dragon hide? They have dragons in this world, then? I wonder who "conjured" this up from their imagination." She snickered at the terrible pun, and continued reading. "Oh, honestly. A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. They've really gone far on their research for this, haven't they? What on earth is transfiguration? Who would believe such a load of rubbish?" She threw the letter back in the bin, where they belonged.

Late that night, Hermione woke up to the sounds of cats fighting outside. She groaned and turned her bedside light on. The noises stopped, so she reached across to pick the letter out of the bin, and stared at the sheets of what she'd decided, against her better judgement, must be parchment. She'd had a dream about getting away from everyone here, away from the girls who taunted her for her frizzy hair, of all things. She'd been able to have a fresh start amongst people who wouldn't judge her for wanting to learn, and amongst people like her. She remembered an incident a couple of years back, when Louisa, her best friend, had earned a better grade than her in an important test.

"86%? You must be losing it, Hermione," Louisa had said, waving her own test paper with a red 98% at the top. The other girls in the class had joined in, jeering at her. A tall girl who'd pulled her hair earlier in the week picked up Hermione's paper and started reading out her answers, putting on a stupid voice.

"Look here, "A dispersed settlement would be more likely to grow, as there is wood and shelter. Also, there is no risk of flooding. It has defence, wood for fuel, yet no farmland. The others have no building material". Oh really, Granger, didn't you read the question? It was about nucleated settlements, not dispersed settlements, idiot. Mangy Grangy can't read. Can't brush her hair either, by the looks of it."

Louisa usually stood up for Hermione, but today seemed to be different. She went to stand with the tall girl and said, "No wonder no-one likes her. Probably has nits too. Mangy Derangey Granger."

Hermione had snapped, and, clenching her fists in frustration, all the windows in the classroom shattered, the lights went off and Louisa's paper burst into flames. Louisa had screamed and dropped the paper, running out with everyone else from the classroom. Hermione had burst into tears, and ran out of school to the park. The strange thing was, when she went back to school the next day, nothing was said about the incident, and Louisa was being nice to her again, as though nothing had happened. Hermione waited in anticipation for registration, when she was sure a detention slip would be passed her way. But registration came and went, and when Hermione asked how the windows had been fixed, her form tutor gave her a weird look. She had sat down, and Louisa looked at her oddly.

"What happened to the windows?"

"They shattered, yesterday, when we were in here, after school, and your paper, it-" Hermione stopped herself and suddenly frowned, "You mocked me. You, and all the other girls in here. You became one of them. I remember, it happened."

A voice had whispered from behind her, saying, "You're mad, Granger, you're a raving lunatic." Nothing more was ever said about it, but Louisa stopped talking to Hermione when the rumour went around that she made things up for attention. How could the windows have fixed themselves that quickly?

Hermione frowned at the memory, and looked at the second sheet of parchment. A list of necessary uniform, equipment and books stared back at her, daring her to believe in them. She went through the other possible explanations in her mind before reading in more detail. What had yesterday seemed absurd now seemed, albeit vaguely, reasonable. Confused, Hermione weighed up the possibilities of magic and no magic in her head. Magic was for children, surely? Yet here was a letter telling her there was a school for witches and wizards, with mysterious lessons and clothing. Exasperated, she tore up both letters and went back to bed.

In the morning, another letter was waiting for Hermione next to the toast rack. She scoffed and reached for the butter instead, while her father looked over at her ignored post.

"You not going to open your letter this morning? You're usually so excited by post,"

She looked up at him from spreading her toast and looked at the green ink again, "I received one yesterday, and it was about a senior school for magic." She bit into her cold toast, while her father looked on with an expression of mild amusement. "You can open it if you like, but it's probably the same as yesterday". Her father reached across and picked up the letter, while her mother brought over two mugs of tea from the kitchen. She looked over her husband's shoulder to read it and a confused look crossed her face.

"What on earth's this? Something you've applied for, Hermione? I hope you haven't, you're going to the local school, no matter what you and your friend Louisa are planning."

Her mother sat down to drink her tea and Hermione rolled her eyes. "Mum, Louisa and I haven't been friends for a while now, and I haven't applied for anything - they just came by themselves."

"Whatever you say, dear," her mother mumbled, across her mug. Hermione picked up the newspaper and started to read, ignoring her mother steadily as she continued to talk. "Just, if you hadn't applied, how would these people know our address? There's no postcode, and no stamp, so it must have been hand-delivered by one of your friends as some sort of elaborate joke. I don't know why you're so averse to going to Malkinwood. It's a very good school. Tracey told me about it, you know, and she said her daughters love it there-"

"-is there a return address somewhere?" her father interrupted, taking note of Hermione's increased grip on the newspaper. She looked up at her father, but before she could speak, her mother interrupted again.

"Exactly! You can't reply if you don't have a return address, and nothing official would ever make a slip up like that! It's obviously a hoax, and honestly - magic? Magic doesn't exist, you silly girl. Who'd believe anything so abnormal? Why don't you ignore it and go into town with Louisa, I hear there's some really nice films on at the cinema, that will take your mind off all of this rubbish, and -"

"Mum!" Hermione interrupted, her face flushed, "I'm not silly, and I've told you before, Louisa and I are not friends. Even if we were, I would never go shopping, because as you well know, I hate it, and-"

"It's not normal for a girl to not like shopping," her mother said, walking towards the sink, "It really isn't, and you haven't even touched the make-up your Aunt Samantha sent you for Christmas. Goodness knows, you're nothing like I was when I was younger, and believe you me-"

"Well, maybe I don't want to be like you. What if this is real? What if the reason strange things happen to me is because all of this really exists, that there really is another part to this world that we've never seen. How else do you explain it?"

Her father put down his mug, and looked over at her. "Hermione, why don't you just calm down a bit, we'll soon find out what's behind all of this, there's no use getting upset about it."

"Calm down?" She turned to him, disbelief spreading across her face. "You're asking me to calm down when I've been receiving letters inviting me to a special school for witches and wizards. Even if you don't believe in magic, maybe that's the point? Maybe that's why the witches and wizards can stay hidden - because no-one believes in them. Well I believe in them now, with these letters, and I'm going to learn about magic whether you like it or not."

Her mother spluttered, "How can you learn about something that doesn't exist? I always wondered about the amount of intelligence your daughter contains, Simon,"

Hermione burst into tears and took the letter from her father, running upstairs with it. It was exactly the same as the one before, but when she went through the papers, she noticed another sheet, with the same crest at the top. It said;

'Miss Granger,

Due to complications regarding muggleborn status, a magical-muggle liaison supervisor will take you to Diagon Alley and will be happy to answer any questions you or your guardians have regarding Hogwarts and the magical world. Expect your officer at 10am, August 1st.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress'

It was in the same ink as the first letter, and written in the same handwriting, but Hermione hadn't remembered that sheet in the previous letter. She smiled at this development, and looked at the calendar on the wall; it was Thursday the 24th, so there was just over a week to prepare for finding out the secret behind all these letters.