Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I assure you, I wouldn't be writing anything. I'd be relaxing on some far away island resort.
There are about 6,602,2224,175 people in the world, so when you tell someone they are one in a million you are saying that there are over 6,000 people just like them.
-Unknown
I died, and then I woke up. Simple as that.
There was no big bang, no flash of light at the end of a tunnel, and definitely no meeting with some otherworldly being.
It was a bit shocking to wake up so suddenly in an 11-year old Hermione Granger's body, though.
Not exactly the kind of reincarnation you had in mind, eh?
Well, let me explain from the beginning.
My name is Jada or at least it was. I suppose I'll be going as Hermione from now on.
Anyway, let's start with basic facts about me: I am or was African-American, (I don't know what to consider myself now and quite frankly I don't care, waking up as a fictional character, in a fictional world and a few years younger was not a good way to start off my new life).
OK, moving on. I keep getting distracted don't I? Sorry, my way of dealing with stress is rambling.
More facts about me: I was 16, American and near the end of my junior year.
My death was really kind of random, unfortunately. No going down in an epic way or saving someone's life for me.
I had been walking home from school when I looked up just in time to see a car veer off the road and hurtle toward me, out of control. I swear I didn't have time to blink or even open my mouth to scream. It was, look up, notice the car and WHAM, I was gone.
I must have died on impact because I didn't feel anything, (thankfully, who'd want to feel that?).
The next moment I was aware of my surroundings, I standing in a crowded train station with a tall, brown haired man and a pretty, dark-skinned woman looking down at me.
"Do you remember how to get on the platform, Hermione?" the woman asked, for some reason looking directly at me.
"Remember Professor McGonagall said we go through the platform and that the other muggles working here won't know about it."
"Ah, yes. What an odd word. Muggles. I wonder where it originates from. Latin, perhaps? The McGonagall woman did mention that a lot of spells were Latin based. I'll have to look this up."
The man spoke distractedly, his mousy brown hair was a mess and he wore large glasses.
"You can look this up at home, dear. Right now we need to get our daughter on to the train before it's too late. Right, Hermione?"
Completely puzzled as to why these strangers were addressing me with a different name and disoriented because, well, I was just hit by an out of control car, I didn't reply.
This idea was circling around my head for while. This is why I never tried writing fanfiction until recently. I should working on my other fics but no, I distract myself with another story instead.
Ideas for stories flit around my head constantly, and if I think of them, I have to write them down. No need to fear though. If I've posted them on I plan on finishing them. Mere ideas that I don't continue, go into my notebooks of doodles and scribbles. (Yes, this notebook is real.)
This first chap is really short. I promise the rest will be longer though.
R&R
Thanks,
ShaSha