Disclaimer: I don't own. Rowling holds all rights to the characters.
AN: Rated K for everyone.
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The Price of Knowing a Student by luvsanime02
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Every time Professor Minerva McGonagall looked at Hermione Granger, she was overcome with a wave of pity. The child was so talented. Truly the smartest witch or wizard to pass through the halls of Hogwarts in many years, yet somehow sorted into Gryffindor. Naturally, there was also a sense of pride mixed in there, that a girl so obviously bright and learned nevertheless belonged to her House, and not Ravenclaw. This bright young witch was one of her own. Poor Filius had only needed one week of classes with Miss Granger before lamenting the loss.
Very talented, and so alone. It pained Minerva greatly to watch this intelligent, young girl trying to make friends, only to be rebuffed every time. That no one her age could truly understand her was a given, but did she have to be ridiculed as well? Minerva could see confusion in her eyes every time the girl's help was coldly refused, watched as she walked away as though unaffected, but biting her lip all the same. Helpful, too much so, and labelled a know-it-all. Even Severus talked about the girl's knowledge, if only in the form of sarcastic comparison to the rest of the Gryffindor first years.
Over-eager because she was afraid of failing. Stand-offish because she was terrified of never truly fitting into this new world that would inevitably become more important to her than the one she was born in.
Oh yes, Minerva's heart ached in sympathy during every meal, every Transfiguration lesson. It was less than one month into the girl's first year, and yet Miss Granger could not have reminded Minerva more of a younger version of herself if she'd tried. Minerva knew Hermione Granger. Better than the girl knew herself, she'd wager. Knew the long and desperately lonely years that were ahead of her, knew the bitter disappointment she'd face sooner or later with the realisation that it didn't matter which world she chose, she still wouldn't be accepted.
Sometimes, Minerva wondered what the young girl's past had been like. Was it littered with the same sort of cruel children as her own had been? Books were obviously the girl's refuge. Nothing else could explain why she used one as a shield from her fellow classmates during every meal. Yes, Minerva thought, this child was always alone.
And she wondered, with a heavy heart, what would become of Hermione Granger in the future, as the years passed and no one noticed her, noticed how extraordinary she was, and no one bothered to pull her out of her shell. Her intelligence would be wasted, because there would be no one there to listen. All of the books in the world would never satisfy her yearning to be included and understood.
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Halloween arrived, and Minerva had never been so quietly terrified for a student in all of her life. She didn't know what was happening to this school. A troll had been let loose in the dungeons by someone, and when she found out who they would regret endangering the students' lives in this way, but for now-
"Miss Granger, you foolish girl…" Didn't the child realise that she had almost lost her life trying to take down a mountain troll on her own, of all the preposterous things!
It didn't even occur to Minerva until later that night, when she was trying to calm down her mind enough to fall asleep, that of course Hermione Granger wasn'tfoolish enough to go after a troll by herself, no matter what she'd told Minerva and the other professors. The insight left a warm feeling in her chest as she finally drifted off.
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The next day dawned, and Minerva McGonagall was hard-pressed to stop herself from smiling. Broadly. There were no books on the Gryffindor table, and there was no shadow upon Hermione Granger's face. The girl was animated in a way that only came from human contact, and her eyes were shining in the soft, morning light.
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were sitting across from her, but instead of only talking to each other, Miss Granger was now being included, sharing smiles and stories and laughter. Watching them, Minerva decided that she didn't really care after all what had happened the day before.
At this moment, Minerva did not even care if Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup ever again. Because suddenly she did not know Hermione Granger, and did not see herself in the girl. There was no sorrow, no pain. This girl, at least, would not grow up isolated and lost. She would not cry herself to sleep every night wondering why no one ever noticed her, let alone talked to her. It would not take this young girl almost thirty years of life and a change in career before she found someone who appreciated her as herself. Hermione Granger would not grow up feeling as though the very traits that made her so unique were nothing but a burden.
Minerva glanced over at Albus, who was of course looking back, eyes twinkling as he too took in the new way of things. Despite their difference in years, and despite the fact that Minerva thought surely Albus must be not a little crazy, she raised her goblet infinitesimally and allowed a small smile to finally blossom on her face, acknowledging that, sometimes, her best friend knew what he was doing.
Happier than she'd been since the start of term, Minerva could not help but relish and look forward to many more years of no longer quite knowing Hermione Granger.