Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers.
Hermione Granger was an orphan. Apparently, she'd been found on the orphanage doorstep when she was young, about one year of age. The doctors had said her birthday was sometime at the end of September.
The orphans were ranked for intelligence, Hermione first by a long shot, so she got her own room. She was naturally smart, having a photographic memory, but she still worked harder than anyone else, striving for the best. She had skipped six grades in school, and this she was entering 12th grade instead of 6th.
Math was her favorite subject, science following it. She loved figuring out problems using math. She was already at college level on both subjects, having had spent most of her time on them.
The rest of the orphans had a disliking of Hermione, to put it mildly. They were jealous of her abilities, and made her look bad in front of any potential adoptive parents. Which made their custodians very mad, but not at Hermione.
So, when the bell dinged downstairs, signaling that there was a new client, in the middle of the summer before 12th grade, Hermione prepared herself for the worst. She quickly moved to put all of her books away, not wanting them to get damaged.
Lindsay Greenstein, a twelve year old 7th grader who had somehow gotten into Hermione's room, was quicker, grabbing Hermione's math book before Hermione put it away. Hermione was horrified. That was her favorite book!
"Not going to be the best now!" Lindsay taunted, dangling the book over Hermione's head, "Not ever going to get out of this place, no you won't, not if I can stop it.".
"Please." Hermione begged, feeling helpless, "Not that book, not- no!".
Lindsey had torn off a page.
"Please, please..."
There went another page.
Hermione looked at Lindsay, and for the first time, anger bubbled up inside of her. Lindsay tore another page.
"NO!" Hermione shouted, and her hand grabbed the older girl's arm.
There was a sickening crack and Lindsay dropped the book. Hermione immediately let go, grabbing the book, holding it protectively and glaring at Lindsay. The girl had taken to moaning while looking at her hand, which was bent completely the wrong way.
Hermione was shocked at herself. Had she done that?
She deserved it. They all do.
Hermione gasped. Did she really think that? Of course they didn't deserve - whatever she did - probably broken - did they?
And the other question, how in the world did she do that? It shouldn't be possible - she hadn't even pulled down, she'd pulled forward. If she was actually that strong, she would have dislocated Lindsay's hand, or even arm, not broken her wrist.
"Go away." Hermione's voice was cold. Where did that come from?
Lindsay gave Hermione one last glare and stalked off. Hermione glanced down at her book.
The strange thing was, it wasn't damaged in the slightest.
Harry was worried. Aunt Petunia had died at the grocery store about a month ago, and he'd been shouldering what he thought was all of the extra work ever since. But, now that Uncle Vernon was going to adopt a girl, Harry thought that taking the extra burden wouldn't be that bad compared to another person in the family who might be like Dudley. Harry had told Vernon this yesterday. Well, not the part about Dudley.
"Uncle Vernon," Harry said, "I can do what Aunt Petunia did-".
Harry was shot down in a second. "Listen, boy," Vernon said, "You don't know how to cook, you can't do our bills, you can't even fold laundry properly! And I need someone responsible to watch over you. Someone that can't run away screaming, boy. Now get out!".
So Harry was going to be dragged all the way to an orphanage the next day with Uncle Vernon because he didn't want Harry staying with the babysitter for Dudley at the house.
Hermione was in her room, reading the same math book that Lindsay had grabbed yesterday. She had gotten in big trouble, having scared the potential clients away when she had went to tell on Hermione. Lindsay wasn't believed when she complained, and she had gotten a horrid punishment: being moved down a rank for 'Incompetence and lies'. Lindsay was now ranked 51 out of the 100 girls, one less than average. Hermione almost felt sorry for the girl. Almost.
Hermione had finally decided something was up. She'd broken Lindsay's wrist and her book had fixed itself. Some part of her mind thought it was some elaborate trick, though, and she hadn't read anything that about something like this happening. Granted, she didn't have access to the internet, but still.
The bell rang, signaling breakfast. Hermione jumped, her eyes flicking about the room to see if anyone was there to mess with her. No one was there. Perhaps they had heard of Lindsay's consequence. Maybe they will stop now, Hermione thought hopefully. She put her book on her shelf and walked out of her room, making sure to lock it behind her. There was no point of losing her guard now.
Apparently, the word had spread. As Hermione walked into the cafeteria, everyone suddenly was silent. Hermione decided to take advantage of the situation, and held her chin up, walking over to the trays with purpose. She took one, and looked around. Everyone was staring at her.
"What are you staring at?" Hermione snapped. As soon as the words left her mouth, the loud chatter began, a bit nervously. Hermione smirked at walked over to the food. She had done it! The lunch lady, a kind old woman with grey hair and blue eyes, handed her eggs and milk.
"Thank you." Hermione kindly said to the lunch lady, who handed her the food on her tray. The lunch lady smiled.
"Don't let them get to you, dear." She said.
Hermione smiled back and sat down at the nearest table. The two girls there took one look at Hermione and scrambled. Hermione shook her head and took a bite of the eggs. Let them believe what they want. She raised an eyebrow in their direction. Inside, she was doing cartwheels. This was the first time that her food hasn't been stolen at breakfast. Usually, her breakfast and dinner was stolen.
No one came near her for the rest of the meal, so it was a happy Hermione who skipped back to her room. Maybe life wouldn't be so bad, anymore, she thought, if this went on. Maybe she would get adopted parents, she wished.
Looking back on it, Hermione remembered the phrase, 'Be careful what you wish for'. She hadn't been so careful.
The next day was Wednesday. The bell dinged downstairs, signaling another potential client. Hermione double checked that her area was immaculate and found that it was, as usual. She quickly put her book away, just in case.
A few minutes later, Hermione could hear voices in the door.
"This is where the smartest lives?" A deep voice said.
"Yes" Hermione recognized Ms. Greene, the Head of the orphanage, reply.
The door opened and Hermione stood up, ready to greet the new client. She stared at the pudgy, fat man with a short neck and beady eyes for a moment before greeting him.
"Hello, sir. My name is Hermione." Hermione said, trying to sound cheerful.
The man stared at her.
"What is your age and grade?" He asked, rather rudely in Hermione's opinion.
"I'm eleven in August, sir. I'm in twelfth grade." Hermione replied, hoping the man had a kind side.
"Can you do finances and bills, cook, do laundry, shop for groceries, and look over ehm a bit of a troublemaking boy?" He said, coughing in the middle. It was then when Hermione noticed the skinny boy behind the man. He was skinny, had knobby knees, messy black hair, and startling green eyes. The boy didn't look like a troublemaker. In fact, he looked afraid. He didn't look like the man at all. An adopted boy, perhaps?
That's when Hermione noticed his aura. It was a bit dimmer than hers, but it was still there. She got a little excited - no one else had an aura that she knew of - but there was time for more thought about that later.
"Yes, sir." Hermione replied, hiding a wince as she not so fondly remembered the times she had watched over the little ones, who were quite rambunctious.
"Alright." The man said after a moment, "You do those things, and you can have room and board. We'll go over details later. I'm going to go sign the contract for you. Pack up your stuff. And stay here until I get back, boy." The last part was addressed to the black haired boy. Hermione wondered for a moment if the boy wasn't treated so well- all of the signs were pointing to yes. Hermione shoved her growing anger down. Not now. The man and Ms. Green left the room.
"Hi." The boy said shyly, "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."
"Hello." Hermione replied cheerfully as she pulled out her trunk from underneath her bed, which held Hermione's only possessions, books and clothes.
"What've you got in there?" Harry asked excitedly, peering at the trunk over Hermione's shoulder.
"Books and clothes." Hermione replied proudly, "It's all I have. Usually, orphans don't get books of our own - but I get them because I am - well, I was, I suppose, - first rank."
"What's that mean?" Harry asked, a bit disappointedly. Hermione supposed it was because she didn't have any toys. Boys with their toys - jeez.
"First rank?" Hermione asked, a bit impatient, and at Harry's nod, she continued, "We're ranked for intelligence here - I'm first.".
"Oh." Harry replied.
Hermione pulled her trunk up, carrying it like she would a book, between her chest and her arm. Harry's jaw dropped.
"What?" Hermione asked, shifting the trunk. It wasn't that heavy, only about one hundred pounds. It was a bit bulky, though. Perhaps it looked weird to carry a trunk like she was… well, she didn't have any other way, such as wheels.
"Er-" Harry stammered, "Um… do you carry trunks all of the time?".
Hermione looked down at the trunk again. So he couldn't carry one.
"No." Hermione said, "But I carry about the same weight in books every day.".
"Oh." Was all he replied. Hermione noted he said oh quite a lot. It is quite annoying. Maybe he was just nervous.
"Is he always like that?" Hermione asked, jerking her head towards the door, most of her hope that the man was kind had vanished.
"Yes." Harry said angrily, "They all are - Dudley and him - he's Uncle Vernon. Aunt Petunia was too. Whatever you do, don't ask questions.".
Hermione processed this information. Was - she must have died.
"So you're not his son?" Hermione thought out loud, "I supposed so.".
"No," Harry whispered sadly, "They are my relatives. They said my parents," he paused, "died in a c-car crash.".
"I'm sorry." Hermione replied, remembering how she felt when she thought about her own parents. She then made a decision. Harry had shared his story with her, she should share hers with him.
"They never found out what happened to my parents." Hermione said quietly, "They just found me on the doorstep. That's why I don't know my last name.".
Harry stuck out his hand after a few moments of silence. "I suppose I can call you sister now.".
Hermione took it. Harry didn't seem so annoying anymore. "I suppose I can call you brother.".
Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Hermione thrust open the door and Harry stepped out. She took one last glance at her old room. It didn't look the same anymore, even though she had only taken her trunk out.
"Goodbye." She whispered, and shut the door behind her.
Hermione jogged after her new "family". She caught up to them as they were walking out of the orphanage.
"Alright, girl." Vernon said, "Here's the deal. You look after my son and the boy, do finances and bills, cook, do laundry, shop for groceries, you get room and board.".
"What about college next year, sir?" Hermione asked cautiously, aware that things could go downhill fast.
Vernon looked down at her. "If you earn it, I know a private tutor that I can ask a favor for.".
Hermione's heart skipped a beat. A private tutor! For her!
"May I have some spending money for books?" Hermione asked with false sweetness, "You know - to be smarter and better at finances.".
The pudgy man thought for a moment.
"Use the money you earn for that," Vernon said as if it was a feat to think, "you can mow the neighbor's lawns, babysit, and such. The tutor can come from 7-3 for 3 days a week. I'll be gone then, and so will Dudley and the boy. School ends at 3:30, but there's a walk to get back here. You can work on the other two days of the work week ."
Hermione nodded, knowing not to push any farther.
"Thank you, sir." Hermione said, not thankful towards the man at all.
Vernon drove in silence. Harry was looking out the window into the sky, Vernon was driving , and Hermione was trying to get a glimpse of her new home. The car pulled up to number 4, Privet Drive.
The house was plain, as the rest of the houses on the street. The street looked perfect in a horribly boring way. Hermione's heart sunk even further.
Vernon parked the car and Hermione hopped out and got her trunk out of the back. They approached the house. Hermione stopped when she saw the blood red… barrier, of sorts, around the home. It was very faint, but it was there. Vernon passed through it like it wasn't there. She decided to investigate as soon as possible. Harry went through next, the barrier flashing dark red as he passed through. Hermione frowned, but stepped forward with her trunk. The barrier flashed even darker red around her than it had to Harry.
Hermione noticed that Vernon had already opened the door, so she hurried inside, quickly following Harry. The living room was plain like the outside of the house, a brown couch, a circular rug, and a small table with a TV on top of it the only decoration. Sitting on the couch was a fat boy with blond hair. The fat boy was staring at the TV, completely immersed. Hermione deduced that this was Dudley, the son of Vernon, that Harry had warned her about. She slipped on her false sweet smile.
"Hey, Dudders." Vernon said, moving over to Dudley and clapping him on the back. What a name, Hermione thought. She stood there, conscious of Harry, who was behind her, seemingly hiding himself from their view.
"Hey, Dad." Dudley tore his eyes from the screen for a moment, looking over at her.
"Hello." Hermione said, seeming like it was a good time to do so, "I'm Hermione. I'll be your sister." She bit that last part out as sweetly as she could, ignoring the bitter taste it left in her mouth.
"Ok." Dudley said, turning back to the TV. Vernon turned back to her.
"Alright. Your room is upstairs. By the master bedroom. 1st door on the left.".
Hermione nodded and moved up the stairs. Harry followed her after some barked instructions from Vernon. Upstairs had one hallway. On the right, there were three doors, and on the left, there were two. One led to the master bedroom. Hermione opened the door to her new room to find…
A large closet? It was about a nine foot by six foot space. There were a few built-in shelves sticking out of the walls with rungs for clothes underneath them. All of the clothes were gone, however. Shoved against the far wall was a small mattress. . Now she had more than an inkling on how life would be like here. And it wasn't looking so great, she thought with a sneer.
Hermione set her trunk down underneath one of the shelves and examined the room. Her books could go on the shelves, her clothes on the rack by her bed…
Hermione spotted Harry, who was standing by the door, looking a bit awestruck. Hermione suddenly had a bad feeling.
"Where do you sleep?" Hermione asked, dreading the answer.
"Er- in the cupboard." Harry replied, "The cupboard under the stairs.".
Hermione was silent for a moment, and then turned back to her room, which now seemed like a manor compared to what Harry slept in. How could they! She glared at the wall, wishing she could do something to those foul-. She shook her head and got ahold of herself, turning back to Harry.
"Come in here tonight." She said, "If you've got a mattress, bring it. You can sleep here.".
Harry instantly brightened, and Hermione smiled at him, feeling pride at how kind she was being to the poor boy.
"Ok." Harry said, "Tonight."
Hermione stared up at the ceiling of her room, listening to the snores of Vernon. She had cooked dinner for them (Harry got a handful, and Hermione got two - she was practically fuming by then-) and flipped the laundry, but hadn't started on her other chores, which would come tomorrow. She lay there, waiting. Harry would come tonight. She had gotten a peek at his cupboard, and that only solidified her thoughts of getting him into her room tonight - at least there were no spiders in her room.
The door creaked open, and Hermione raised her head to see Harry coming in with his matress, which was even smaller than hers. Hermione took it from him and set it down next to hers, noticing he didn't have a blanket.
Harry shut the door and layed down on the mattress. Hermione tossed him one end of her blanket and he caught it, snuggling down with an aloof smile on his face. Hermione had thought he had went to sleep when he whispered;
"Thanks."
"You're welcome." Hermione whispered back. Then they were silent once more, Morpheus welcoming them into his realm.