Disclaimer: I don't own the story or the cover art. I just added the text for the cover art.
Warning: Future Godric/Salazar slash. (Bc I couldn't not. :))
Prologue:
This Is Not the Book You're Looking For
Hermione Granger was late to class the day she found it.
On the first day of her first year at Hogwarts, she stuffed all her books and supplies into her bag and rushed out the door, so eager she was to get to her classes. She never bothered to look at the titles as she shoved them into the drab canvas. So maybe she shouldn't have been so surprised after all when she pulled out what she thought was Hogwarts a History in Professor Binn's class, and found a similar, yet entirely different title staring back at her.
Hogwarts, a History Revised. Where the author's name was supposed to be, it simply stated: A Memoir.
'Hogwarts a History Revised?' Hermione thought. This isn't my book. And whose memoir is it? Surely not Hogwarts's; buildings can't write books. Unbeknownst to Hermione, if she had uttered that last sentence aloud, the stones at her feet would have commenced in silent snickering.
She opened to the first page and almost gave a small gasp of surprise when she read the paragraph waiting for her there:
Many people wonder when exactly I was created. There are many theories, but none of them are correct. You see, when people ask about the origin of Hogwarts, they are thinking about a physical being. They are thinking about my body, not my soul.
Fortunately, she was too shell shocked to gasp. Every single brain cell she possessed was screaming at her to keep reading, and quite a few of the cells making up her heart as well. All those tiny molecules telling her to continue formed a longing to lose herself in the pages of a different world so great, it seemed to physically squeeze her chest in a vice, leaving her quite unable to draw breath. But with a heroic feat of willpower, she slammed the book shut and crammed it into her messenger bag - more carefully this time. She then picked up her quill and tried to pay attention, the very picture of a studious child diligently taking notes. She did her best not to appear shaken, or as if her brain were spinning so fast it surpassed all it's speed limits. She did her best to appear perfectly normal for the rest of the day. How well she succeeded, well, that depends on your definition of normal.
ᐧ ᐧ
In the dark of night, Hermione reached under her pillow with shaking fingers, pulling out her wand, and the book.
Her bag had felt as though it contained the weight of the sky all day, and it wasn't from all the heavy textbooks. It was from the knowledge that she carried this book.
Her real history book had been innocently waiting for her on her bed when she returned to her room. She'd wanted to start reading immediately, but Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were there. Hermione felt this odd instinct that she had to keep Hogwart's memoir a complete secret, or else… Or else something. Something would surely happen, and Hermione wasn't inclined to find out what.
But now, after nearly twelve hours of waiting, she could finally mine this book's pages for it's secrets. For those sparkling little gems of enlightenment.
"Lumos." Soft white wand light fell across the bed before becoming trapped by the dense curtains. It revealed the book's fresh, deep red, paperback cover with gold lettering. It's pages were jagged and uneven. It looked like a novel someone without enough funds to do a good job had tried to self publish.
Hermione took a steadying breath and, cracking the cover, turned to book to it's first page.
Many people wonder when exactly I was created. There are many theories, but none of them are correct. You see, when people ask about the origin of Hogwarts, they are thinking about a physical being. They are thinking about my body, not my soul.
Nobody knows that my sentient spirit was around years before my creators were anywhere near close to creating my host. I couldn't communicate in any way, and I couldn't see as you do. I could barely even comprehend the events going on around me. But I still have the memories of those first moments of my existence, as clear as if they were yesterday…