Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights go to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Many scenes in this story come directly from the books authored by J.K. Rowling and are entirely hers.

Chapter One

Hermione Granger was always the brightest girl of her age. The daughter of two well-established dentists, she was brought up to be the very best. Her parents told her that mediocrity was no option and from a very young age, she learned that she was either to be the top of everything or she would be nothing. That young girl never got the chance to be a child for she was much too busy with her studies. She received much praise from her parents and teachers but didn't have much time for friends. She was told that she didn't have friends because they we're as intelligent as she was and the right friends would come around eventually.

On August 20th, while Hermione was reading a book in her family room, her bushy hair falling in front of her big, brown eyes, there was a curious tap at the window. Her body jumped and she looked over, seeing a small, grey owl with a letter in its mouth on the other side of the glass.

"Oh!" She stood slowly and walked a little closer to the window. "Rather odd, aren't you?" I peered at the writing on the envelope and was shocked to see that it was addressed to her. She thought a moment, deciding that it would be safe to open the window and let the owl in since her parents were out at the office. She unlocked the brass latches and slowly slide the glass up, allowing the bird inside.

It landed gracefully on the arm of the couch and watched her with eager eyes. She approached it slowly, not wanting to scare it and it flies off somewhere else in the house. The last thing she needed was her parents to come home from work and find an owl hooting in their house. It sat still as Hermione walked up, gently taking the letter from his beak. He gave a happy squawk and disappeared out the window.

She flipped the envelope over and opened it with care. She pulled out the thick paper. It had an odd texture, certainly not the same kind of paper she used in school. She unfolded it and it 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 been accepted to Hogwarts School Witchcraft and Wizardry. A representative from the school will be arriving at your home to discuss and answer all questions that you and your parents may have on August 20th at 8:00 pm. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment that you will need during your stay at Hogwarts.

Term begins on September 1st. After all questions are answered, you may share your answer of attending the school with said representative.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Hermione slowly lowered the letter and she sit on the couch. She was a witch? Is that was the letter was insinuating?

'Does that mean I'm special?' She pondered. 'Surely this must be a secret society for the elite minds. That's the only explanation as to why I would not have heard of it before now.'

She ran up into her room and hid the letter where she knew it would be safe until her parents got home and allowed her imagination to get the best of her. She grabbed her pencil and waved it around like a wand, running to the mirror that hung in the entryway of her house. The smile that had been glowing on her soft face fell. Would she grow warts? What about her tiny nose? Would it grow large and hook at the end? She already wasn't entirely pleased with her looks, but the last thing she needed was to become ugly like the witches in her story books.

'Like the witch in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs!' She thought in horror. She stared at her reflection a few more minutes before laughing to herself. "Got a hold of yourself, Granger. If learning magic takes being… unattractive, well, I'm sure there's a spell for that. Honestly, this is the most fascinating thing that has happened to anyone in the Granger family!"

When her parents got home, she waited as patiently as she could for them to relax into the chairs in the family room before she told them about her day. She twisted her hands and looked at each of them with a worried expression.

"Is something the matter, Hermione?" Her mother asked softly.

"Not really, mum. Actually, something wonderful has happened, but I'm not sure that you'll believe me when I tell you."

Her father chuckled. "Oh, Hermione, just tell us the news. You've never been one to tell stories, we'll believe you."

Hermione looked at her parents for a few more moments before taking a deep breath. "Well, I supposed I should start at the beginning?"

Her father nodded. "Very good place to start, dear."

She sighed. "Yes, well, I was sitting where you are now reading when I heard a tapping at the window. I turned around and saw…"

"Saw what?" Her mother prompted.

"An… an owl. And owl carrying a letter in its beak. And oddly enough, the letter was addressed to me."

Her father squinted his eyes in thought. "I'm not quite following."

"Maybe I should just let you read the letter." Hermione decided, racing up the stairs and retrieving the letter. She unfolded it and placed it in his hand gently.

He read it over, his eyebrows pulling together. "Darling," he addressed her mother, "read this."

She did, gasping as she finished. "Well, do you think it's legitimate? Should we trust a stranger in our house?"

"Oh, you must!" Hermione insisted. Her parents looked up at her in shock. "What I mean is," she backtracked, "I'm quite curious, to be honest. I wouldn't want something like, well, if this is legitimate, I wouldn't want this opportunity to pass me by. It may in fact be the most significant thing to happen to me."

Her parents looked at each other in silent thought.

"I believe," her father began, "that you may be right, Hermione."

Her mother nodded. "We'll see what this visitor from Hogwarts has to say, but we do need to think this over. I'll need to begin making a list of all the questions. I suggest you do the same."

Hermione nodded with a huge smile on her face. "Thank you!" She raced up to her bedroom to her desk and jotted down every single question that came to mind on a legal pad.

It was 7:55 pm and everyone in the Granger house was a nervous wreck. Mrs. Granger was in the kitchen, making some finger sandwiches and cookies while Mr. Granger paced back and forth in the entry way. Hermione was sitting in her usual seat in the kitchen, her leg nervously bouncing up and down as she read over her questions for the umpteenth time.

As soon as the clock above the oven turned to 8:00 pm, there was a knock at the door. Hermione got off the chair and consciously reminded herself to walk, not run to see who the stranger was.

"Hello," her father greeted after the door hand been pulled open.

"Hello, Mr. Granger." Said an old voice. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the Headmaster at Hogwarts."

"Oh yes, yes, please, do come in!" Mr. Granger ushered.

Hermione rounded the corner to see a tall, old man with saggy skin and a long white beard. He was dressed in purple robes, which Hermione fond rather odd. He wore half-moon glasses on his crooked nose and his blue eyes seemed to be smiling, even though his face was rather serious.

"Ahh, Miss Granger. How do you do?" He addressed her.

Hermione was a bit startled that he knew who she was but kept her manners. "Quite pleasant, thank you. And you, sir?"

He smiled. "Very well, indeed."

"My wife is in the kitchen preparing a treat for us if you don't mind, Mr. Dumbledore." Mr. Granger spoke.

"Not at all, dear man, I'd be delighted to meet Mrs. Granger. And please, call me Albus."

Her father nodded and led Albus Dumbledore into the kitchen where Mrs. Granger was pulling the apron off.

"Dear, this is Mr. Albus Dumbledore. He's the Headmaster." Her father announced.

Mrs. Granger and Mr. Dumbledore greeted each other just as Mr. Granger and he did.

"I'm sorry if I seem upfront," Mrs. Granger said after their greetings, "but you must understand that this all seems rather odd. Would it be too much to ask for some proof?"

"Dear lady, not at all!" He laughed. "I would be alarmed if you didn't!" Albus Dumbledore reached into his robes and pulled out a wooden stick.

"Is that a wand?" Hermione asked excitedly.

"Yes, Miss Granger." He smiled. He waved it around and flicked it at the flower pot sitting in the center of the table. The daisies that had been yellowing and slightly droopy shot straight up, seeming to glow that they were so white, and grew about twice their size.

"Oh!" Mrs. Granger and Hermione both gasped at the same time.

Hermione's eyes grew larger and she took a step forward and touched them. "That was beautiful." She grinned.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. But I must say, the magic you will perform will be much greater than anything I've ever done." He leaned down closer to her, "And between you and I, that's saying something."

Her face lit up and she looked eagerly at her parents.

"P-Please, Albus, sit down." He led him to a chair while Mrs. Granger numbly got the sandwiches and cookies and brought them to the table.

Albus Dumbledore sat down and waited patiently for her mother and father to sit as well.

"Oh, drinks!" Her mother started to get up.

"Nonsense! I can get it for myself, Mrs. Granger, please, collect your thoughts. We have much to discuss." With another wave of his wand, four glasses appeared, immediately filling themselves up with pumpkin juice.

The Grangers all murmured their thanks and Albus Dumbledore nodded. "Now, Miss Granger, I have a feeling that you have something weighing heavily on your mind?"

"Yes, sir." Hermione answered. He seemed to know everything! "Well, I was wondering, is it normal for you to talk to the families?"

'Did his eyes twinkle?' Hermione thought incredulously to herself.

Dumbledore smiled at her. "Very good question, Miss Granger. You see, this is in fact the first time I have personally visited a muggle-born family about their child in about fifty years."

"Muggle?" Mr. Granger asked.

"Fifty years?" Mrs. Granger questioned.

"Why, sir?" Hermione prompted.

"A muggle is another name for humans who do not have magical abilities. And yes, dear lady, fifty years." He laughed. After a moment, he turned to Hermione. "Now your question, dear. I have come to personally see that you attend Hogwarts because I believe your abilities could be great and extremely useful."

"Useful for what?" Mr. Granger asked with narrowed eyes.

"No need to be suspicious, Mr. Granger, I was simply saying that we could really use more witches and wizards as talented as she will be."

"But how do you know, sir? That I will be talented?"Hermione asked.

He lowered his head. "I have my ways, Miss Granger."

"Well, Albus, I have looked at her list of school supplies and I must say that I'm not entirely sure where you wish for us to purchase these items."

"Everything you will need will be available on Diagon Alley." He answered.

"Diagon Alley?" Mr. Granger's eyebrows were pulling together. "I don't remember any Diagon Alley."

"It's quite simple, really." He reached into his robes and pulled out a small piece of paper like the kind that her letter was written on and handed it to her father. "You will need to show Tom this and he will take you to Diagon Alley. You will find him in The Leaky Cauldron in London. He's the bartender there."

"A pub?" Mrs. Granger squeaked.

"Very safe, I assure you." Dumblebore said gently. He reached into the other side of his robes and handed a blue ticket to Mr. Granger.

"Platform 9 ¾ ?" He laughed. "This can't possibly be correct!"

"It is." Dumblebore chuckled. "You see, the platform must be hidden from other muggles. When you reach the wall in between platforms nine and ten, simply run at the wall and you will find yourself right next to the train."

"It won't hurt me?" Hermione asked. She'd run into quite a few walls in her day, mainly from walking and reading at the same time, but she had never run into a wall.

"No, Miss Granger. It won't. You'll go right through it."

They asked many, many questions including where Hermione would be staying, when she would be coming home, if they accepted muggle money and where to exchange it for wizard money, what she would be learning, and who would be watching after her.

"That is not yet know." Dumbledore answered the last question. "You see, when students first come to Hogwarts, they are sorted into one of four houses. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin."

Hermione cringed at the sound of Slytherin. It sounded evil. "Which house do you think I would be sorted into, sir?"

He chuckled. "It's hard to say, Miss Granger. In one of your textbooks, Hogwarts, A History, you will find a chapter dedicated to the explanation of each house. I would read up on them and decided which you think you would best belong in."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you, sir."

All too soon, Albus Dumbledore left and the Grangers were alone to their thoughts. Hermione would be starting a new school in a few short weeks. A new magic school. As she climbed into her soft bed, Hermione fell into a glorious night of sleep, full of wondrous dreams of being the best witch in the world.