Prologue
"Do you remember last year, there was a prophecy made about Harry and Lord Voldemort?" Dumbledore said to Hermione.
"Of course, Professor," She said, frowning and nodding at the same time, "But it got broken, we didn't get to hear it."
Dumbledore looked to the floor, his back to Hermione. He stood there, facing the wall, for almost a minute.
"There is something that I have not told you Miss Granger." He said gravely, turning to face her. "Besides the secret that you have kept from your friends and family for six years, there is one more thing that concerns you deeply in the matter of Voldemort."
Hermione looked at him, puzzled. "I don't-"
"There was another prophecy, Miss Granger." Dumbledore looked straight into her eyes. "A prophecy about you."
Hermione's Story
Chapter 1: The Letter Sent to Germany
July 2nd, two months and 18 days until Hermione's 11th birthday
Berlin, Germany
It was a cool, crisp morning in Berlin, Germany. It was early, not many people walked the normally crowded streets of the city. There was a stillness that had settled over the shops, there was not so much rush or hastiness this early in the day. Ten year old, Hermione liked the quiet though. She enjoyed the soft cool breeze that danced across her face. Her window overlooked several small cafes, and she watched the owners prepare for opening, and the storm of business men and woman hurrying to work. She turned her head and noticed that some of the cafe-goers were already out and about this morning. She had her eye on a particularly interesting fellow. He seemed to be extremely worried, searching around madly in the pockets of his rather long coat. Hermione cocked her head to the left, watching with curiosity. The man's face relaxed and he stopped rooting around in his pockets, and pulled out a long thin piece of wood. He sighed with what looked like relief, inserted whatever that was back into his pocket and continued walking. Hermione stared after him, quite perplexed with this strange man and his mysterious wooden stick. She sighed and leaned against the wall.
Hermione stared at the ceiling and thought about her upcoming birthday. She would be turning eleven in two months. It was summer now, and she and her mother and father were on their yearly summer vacation. Hermione and her parents had been in Germany with her parents for almost a week now, but she still hadn't picked up on much German. It was a Saturday morning, and she was lying in her bed, in the Wenig Rotes Haus Hotel. They were leaving today, going back to London. She dreaded going back, because that only meant one thing; she was one week closer to going back to school. It wasn't that Hermione didn't enjoy school itself, but just the people in it. She had no friends, none at all. Because of her buckteeth, hair, and just the fact that she was smart, left her feeling lonely and picked on. Not to mention the fact that, around Hermione, something odd was always bound to happen. Two years ago, when she had been running away from some bullying girls, all four of them were suddenly in a trash dumpster, without Hermione doing a thing. When the girls at school found out about this incident, they called her cursed, jinxed, and other rude names.
So Hermione buried herself inside books. The people in books couldn't taunt you or hurt you, they were like your friends, and for Hermione, they were her friends. She loved to read, and read anything she could get her hands on. Even in Germany, where all of the books were in German, she still managed to have her nose in a book at all times. At school she was made fun of for this. "Hermy, Hermy, she's such a book worm-y!" Her childhood classmates used to shriek at her everyday. Now that they were older, the girls at school were capable of crueler taunts, and every verbal stab the girls took hurt Hermione more than the previous one.
Hermione had been going to the renowned all girls private school, Le Bouton de Rose College, since she was five, and she had always been at the top of her classes. Unfortunately, if you could afford it, you attended the school until you were twelve. One more year, and Hermione could leave, and hopefully go on to better things, away from her hurtful classmates, away from the taunting, the laughing, away from everything.
As she skimmed over this thought in her mind, a brown, tawny owl came soaring through the opened window of her hotel room. Hermione shrieked and dove under the covers. When she dared to peek out again, the owl was sitting on her bedpost, an envelope tied to it's leg. Holding the blanket up above her nose, she stared, wide-eyed, at the owl. It seemed relatively harmless, but Hermione had once read in a book that unless trained, owls would attack you in self-defense. At this thought, she gripped the blanket harder. Just then the owl stuck out the leg with the letter tied to it. Hermione peered over at the letter, and gasped.
Ms. Hermione Granger
2nd bed on the right
Room No. 34
Wenig Rotes Haus,
Berlin, Germany
"That has my name on it!" She said, partly to herself, partly to the owl. "And...and the hotel we're staying at...and the room number! How on earth did this person find the room number? And...and what bed I'm sleeping in?"
She looked up at the owl. The owl shook it's leg exasperatedly at Hermione, obviously wanting her to take the letter. She cautiously reached forward, and untied the leather rope that encircled the letter. As soon as the rope was untied, the owl opened its wings, causing Hermione to scream again, and took off out the window.
Hermione looked at the letter, and turned it over with trembling hands. On the back, there was a small wax seal of an H, the same color green as the odd, spidery writing on the address. As she read the letter inside, her eyes grew wide, and she drew a sharp intake of breath, jumping out of bed and running into her parents room, the letter clasped tightly in her hand.
"Mum! Dad!" Hermione called as she skidded into their bedroom. "Mum, I...I got a letter!" She shook her parents until they awoke, the whole time blabbering what seemed like nonsense to her parents.
"Hermione, dear, what is the matter?" Her mother asked, wiping the sleep from her eyes.
"There was an owl, Mum! An owl flew into my window, and it gave me a letter!" Hermione blurted out, breathless. Her mother looked at her, aggravated that her daughter had woken her up to tell her this craziness.
"Hermione darling," she said closing her eyes and preparing for sleep again, "What have I told you about making up silly stories?"
Hermione's mouth dropped open. "I am NOT lying, mum!" she said and thrust the letter out infront of her, "Look!"
Mrs. Granger's eyes opened slowly, and she took the letter in her hands. Her eyes became wide, just like Hermione's. "Oh my..." she said and prodded Hermione's father awake. "Bill...Bill, take a look at this," She said her voice strangely soft with a false calm.
William Granger opened his eyes and gave a tired yawn. He reached for the piece of parchment, and gasped as he read over it. He looked to Hermione.
"Is this some kind of joke, Hermione?" He said eyeing her suspiciously.
"NO!" She said, angry that her parents would not believe her.
"Ellen?" Her father said, turning towards her mother, "Ellen, come into the next room for a moment." He absent-mindedly handed the letter back to his daughter and she took it anxiously. Hermione looked down at the sheet of paper, and read it over once more, to make sure that it wasn't someone's idea of a practical joke.
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 accepted
at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please
find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no
later than July 31. Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
What if it was just a joke, she thought, and the happiness that had just engulfed her slowly dwindled away. But wait, who would play a joke on her anyway? You have no friends, she reminded herself. And how in the world would this person know the exact hotel, the exact room in that hotel, the exact bed that she was staying in? She started to believe this insane notion, that she, herself, Hermione Granger, could finally fit in somewhere. She started to get up, to tell her parents this, when there was a loud knock on the door. Hermione turned around, frightened.
"Hello?" she called, edging near to the door, "Who's there?"
Whoever it was knocked again, and her parents rushed out of the room they had been quietly talking in.
"Hello?" Hermione's father said, looking at the door timidly.
The person knocking at the door seemed to get bored waiting for someone to answer, and let themselves in. Out from behind the door came a tall, dark haired woman, wearing a blue cloak and a matching pointed hat. The cloak was sprinkled with small silver stars, and so was the hat. The woman grinned hugely at them, and opened her arms in celebration.
"You must be the Grangers!" She said loudly but kindly, "I am Sarian Jebshelder, and I work for Muggle Relations, in the Ministry of Magic. I come to you on behalf of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am under the impression that you received a letter today, at 7:42 this morning by way of owl." she looked to Hermione, still smiling happily. "Am I correct, Hermione?"
Hermione stood there, soaking it all in. She clutched the letter in her hands, and looked from her mother to her father, who both looked very frightened, then back to Sarian Jebshelder. "Yes, I got the letter." She managed to squeak.
Sarian somehow managed to smile even bigger. "Then we have to get to Diagon Alley!" She took a thin piece of wood that looked almost exactly the same as the one the strange man had been searching for, from the pocket of her robes. Before Hermione could gasp in realization that that man had been a wizard, Sarian waved the stick and the next thing Hermione saw was a bright flash of white light.