Updating often!

I hope you like Chapter 2 - read and review! Hey, that rhymes.

Disclaimer: if you recognize something, it's not mine.

Many years had passed since that unusual day. From the outside, the house looked the same, with the same bushes and garden bench, the same low wall and the same rows of vegetables. Really, only the interior showed how much time had passed. While before there were photos of a small toddler, now there were photos of a girl with bushy hair, showing her reading, writing, being hugged by her father and kissed by her mother.

One morning, Mrs. Granger crept into her daughter's room, and sat on the edge of her daughter's bed. She shook Hermione gently, saying, "Good morning, dearest! It's time to get up now. Happy birthday!"

Hermione slowly awoke, rubbing her eyes. How could she have forgotten? Today was her 11th birthday! She couldn't wait to be able to claim the title of oldest of the class, once she came back to school on Monday; Hermione could be a little competitive when she was excited. Although it was only the beginning of September, she was already 11, way before her stuck-up, nasty classmates!

Mrs. Granger made her way to the kitchen to check on the waffles, while her daughter climbed out of bed and skipped down the stairs. There were some rectangular presents waiting for her on the kitchen table: books, no doubt, and perhaps a notebook or two for her stories.

Mr. Granger was already seated at the table, drinking his morning coffee. "Happy birthday, Hermione," he said.

Hermione rushed over to give him a hug, then, noticing the presents on the table, she exclaimed, "Thank you!", and ran to give her mother a hug as well.

Mrs. Granger slid the plates of waffles onto the table, and the family contentedly started eating.

Hermione sat down in the armchair and began to read one of the books that had been give to her. It was about an extremely intelligent girl named Matilda, who could read adult books at the age of four. At the age of six, she had such a powerful mind that she could move things by just staring at them. Hermione looked up. "I'd love to be able to do that," she thought.

She stared intently at the silver tintype on the mantelpiece, lost in her imagination. She thought, for a moment, that one of them had just moved a bit, but she couldn't be sure. She stared harder. Wait - was that what she thought it was - one of the tintypes had just scooted to the right. She tried again. Now another one had moved all the way to the end. Hardly daring to breathe, she tried again. It worked!

After a little while, she had managed to move all the tintypes around on the mantelpiece, and even had a few fly over others to reach their designated spot. Come to think of it, she wasn't at all surprised. She had had a few other extraordinary experiences like this before. For example, once when some mean schoolgirls had cut off chunks of her hair, teasing her about it's bushiness, she had found her hair growing back right before her eyes. Or another time, when she was quite little and had wet her pants at school, the nurse had given her some extremely ugly skirts from the lost-and-found, she discovered that her pants had become perfectly clean in a matter of minutes, without being washed at all. And not to mention when she flew over the school buildings, out of the reach of some class bullies who were chasing her. Yes, unfortunately Hermione was bullied quite a bit at school, because of her excellent scores and her love for learning. She just couldn't help it: her mind absorbed knowledge like a sponge soaks up water.

The sound of a letter hitting the doormat interrupted her thoughts. A few moments later, somebody knocked on the door.

Hermione picked up the letter, and then opened the door a crack. The man standing at the doorstep was the most peculiar one that she had ever seen: he had a sweeping violet cloak, bright green pants, caramel-colored shoes, and a teal top hat. He looked down at her and smiled.

"Hello," Hermione said timidly. "Do you wish to see my parents?"

"No, actually," he said pleasantly. "I wish to see you.". His tone was so warm and friendly that Hermione instinctively knew that he was not someone to be feared.

"Very well," she answered politely. "How may I help you?"

"Oh, you don't need to worry about helping me," he responded, with a twinkle in his eye. "I'd just like you listen to what I have to say.".

"Alright," agreed Hermione. "Why don't you come in?"

"Thank you," said the man, as he stepped in.

Mrs. Granger stepped into the hall. "Hello," she said politely.

The man tipped his hat towards her. "Please forgive me for intruding," he said. "I wish to communicate something to you on behalf of the government.".

Mrs. Granger paled slightly. "Make yourself at home," she said, indicating the living room. "Would it be best if I called my husband?".

"Yes," the man said, nodding. "Your daughter should remain, however. This meeting concerns her quite personally, you see.".

"Of course," Mrs. Granger said, although one could sense her unasked questions. She hurried from the room. A minute later she came back with her husband in tow, and the couple joined Hermione and their visitor in the living room.

The man cleared his throat nervously. "My name is Bobby Bopkin, and, well… let's see now - where to start - it's my first time on the job, you see. I suppose I won't beat around the bush, best to know sooner rather than later. Anyways, to put it, ehm, simply, I've come to offer a unique educational experience for your young girl. The Ministry, or rather, my Ministry, has had their eye on her for a long time." Here he paused for a moment, looking worriedly at the Grangers' bewildered faces, then pressed on. "You see, well, to put it bluntly… your daughter here, she has magical blood in her veins… in other words, she is a witch. Bit of a shock, I know; just don't say anything yet, I haven't quite finished. Now, she's not the kind of witch that you might imagine, for in the society that I - and your daughter- belong to, 'witch' is simply the feminine form of 'wizard', and not used to portray a terrifying sorceress. Of course, your daughter has not yet learned to control and use these powers, and so I, on the behalf of the Board of Magical Education, ask you for permission to send your daughter to a magical boarding school. It is not far from here - only an afternoon's worth of a train ride, and the students, fear not, communicate regularly with their parents. The school would be her home for the next seven school years, where she will be challenged appropriately, while developing her extraordinary gifts," he concluded. "That is, if you accept."

Mr. Granger eyed the odd man suspiciously but good-naturedly. "How can we be sure that you really are a - I assume - a wizard?"

"Easy enough to prove," Mr. Bopkin replied, standing up. He turned smartly on his heel and vanished into thin air. Just a few moments later, he reappeared. "Anticipating your next question, sir, I assure you that Hogwarts is as real as you yourselves are." The wizard gave three small flicks if his wand, directing it in turn at each of the Grangers, as if to punctuate this thought.

"I think that we would like some time to talk this over amongst ourselves," said Mrs. Granger.

"Of course," Mr. Bobkin assured them. "I understand that this news can be hard to digest.".

When the Granger family reentered the living room some time later, it was Hermione who spook first. "We have decided," she proclaimed, her eyes shining. "I shall go.".

Mr. Bopkin smiled. "I'm very proud of you for making the right decision," he said. "Now, I'd like you to open the letter. It's for you.".

Only then did Hermione realize that she was still clutching the letter tightly in her hand. She placed it on her lap. The envelope seemed to be made of some sort of parchment, by the feel of it. There was a purple court of arms sealing it, showing a badger, a lion, an eagle and a serpent. Underneath was a waving banner that said 'Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus'. On the other side was her address written in green ink:

Miss H. Granger

Burrington Road 24

East Putney

London

She opened it carefully, trying not to rip the beautiful paper. She pulled out another piece of parchment and 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 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 by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

There was another piece of parchment in the envelope, which Hermione pulled out as well and read, fascinated:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three (3) sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One (1) plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One (1) pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One (1) winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Draughts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

One (1) wand

One (1) cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

One (1) set glass or crystal phials

One (1) telescope

One (1) set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

Mr. Bopkin cleared his throat. "Now," he said a little nervously. "If the kind sir here would just fetch a bit of money, I suppose we could - ehm - go and buy your daughter's school supplies."

Mr. Granger went to his wallet, took out some papers bills, and came back.

"Very well," Mr. Bopkin said. "If you wouldn't mind, madam, if you could just hold my hand for a moment, and, Miss Granger, I'd like you to take hold of my other one… sir, please grasp on to the kind madam's. Very well now, it will all be over in just a second."

"What, sir," queried Mr. Granger a little anxiously, "will be over in just a second?"

"Oh, I'm going to Apparate you," said Mr. Bopkin. "But don't worry, it doesn't hurt a bit.".

The Grangers had barely enough time to wonder what 'Apparate' meant when they suddenly found themselves in a busy little street, with quaint shops lining each side of it. Many men, women, and children, dressed in the same manner as Mr. Bopkin, were bustling about, peering in through the shop windows and rummaging through their bags.

"Welcome," said Mr. Bopkin, "To Diagon Alley!".

"I don't believe that I've heard of the place," commented Mrs. Granger cautiously.

"Oh, no," said Mr. Bopkin. "It isn't on any of the maps of, ehm, non-wizarding people. Now, first stop, Gringotts Bank!".

Across the street from them was a rickety old building, with big bronze doors and lots of windows. The Grangers and Mr. Bopkin entered the building and came out into a large marble hall. All along, there were counters with little odd men (goblins, as Hermione later learned) puttering about. Mr. Bopkin took a step forward and approached one of them cautiously. He tugged on his tie and then said, "I would like to make a currency exchange, please."

The goblin peered down at him and asked, "Muggle money to wizarding kind, I suppose?".

"Indeed," replied Mr. Bopkin.

"Very well," the goblin said curtly. "The money, if you please.".

Mr. Bopkin took the money from Hermione's father and handed it over to the goblin, who meticulously counted out portions of gold, silver, and bronze coins. He handed them over to Mr. Granger and the party of four was once again on its way.

"Now, I believe," said Mr. Bopkin once they were back in the glaring sunlight, "It's time to get the little missy here her school uniform."

They walked inside a small little shop, where a bustling witch wearing all mauve fitted Hermione for her work robes, hat, and cloak. She also directed them to some racks where they purchased school blouses, Mary Janes, checkered socks, and several gray skirts. Fifteen minutes later, they were out the door, laden down with parcels filled to the brim with various articles of clothing.

The next shop they visited was Hermione's favorite - a quaint bookshop, with volumes stacked in the shelves that went from floor to ceiling. All the books were carefully bound with leather covers, coupled with beautiful engravings on the fronts. They had the most peculiar titles, and Hermione would have wanted to read them all, but unfortunately they had not the money for such things, as Mrs. Granger sorrowfully said, so the wide-eyed girl managed to narrow her selection down to twenty-three books plus the ones required for the school year.

As they walked out of the shop, Hermione happily exclaimed, "I can't wait to read them all!"

After the bookshop, the Grangers and Mr. Bopkin went to a peculiar little place - so small that it could hardly be called a proper shop. They bought a cauldron, some scales and a pocket telescope from a wizened old man, who was at a table banging away at some iron. After that, they went around the block to the Apothecary, a bad-smelling store where thousands of jars were placed all along the teetering shelves, each with their own faded label. They were perched so precariously on every single surface that Hermione dared not advance any further into the shop than the doorway, which also helped to stay away from the smell. Mr. Bopkin, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind, seeing that he went up to the counter and bought some potion supplies for Hermione as he chatted amiably with the shopkeeper.

Once they were out into the fresh air once again, Mr. Bopkin said to Mr. Granger, "I think that we should go and get a pet for your daughter now, shouldn't we?"

"Of course," replied Mr. Granger. "It is necessary for school, I'm guessing?"

"Well," said Mr. Bopkin slowly, adjusting his collar, "It is highly recommended to bring an owl. For mail, and such."

The Granger couple was a little skeptical about the notion of having an owl for a pet, but at the end they relented, and fifteen minutes later Hermione came skipping out of the owl shop with a silver-colored owl in a cage swinging from one hand and a large tome on the etmology and meanings of owl names tucked under her arm.

There was only one thing left on the list of school supplies: Hermione's wand. Mr. Bopkin guided them down the street until they came to a store on the corner. Above the door was an antique-looking sign that read, 'Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.'.

Mr. Bopkin pushed open the rusty door and stepped inside, followed by the Grangers. Hermione looked around. The walls were lined with thousands and thousands of little boxes - but before she could investigate further, an elderly man peeked out from below the counter. "Mr. Bopkin," he cried out jovially, "I see you have brought some new customers with you. Muggles, I presume?"

"Indeed, Mr. Ollivander," replied Mr. Bopkin. "Hermione Granger, is the name.". He gestured for Hermione to step forward.

Hermione did so, timidly shaking Mr. Ollivander's hand. "How do you do?" she said politely.

"Very well, thank you," said Mr. Ollivander, with a twinkle in his eye. Then he continued, "Your writing hand, please."

Hermione held out her right hand, a little apprehensively. Mr. Ollivander took a measuring tape and started measuring her arm. He went a little ways off, rummaging through the boxes as the measuring tape continued to spread itself along Hermione's arm, hand, and wrist. Finally, Mr. Ollivander snapped his fingers and the measuring tape flew back into his pocket. He pulled a slim stick - a wand, Hermione realized suddenly - and handed it over to her. "Wave it," he instructed.

Hermione waved it around, not expecting much; but suddenly, the shop was illuminated by a bright, sparkling light, a sort of mixture of blue and gold and silver. Hermione looked wide-eyed at Mr. Ollivander, who had dropped down into a chair. "My, my, my, my," he said, shaking his head incredulously. "It is rare, extremely rare, that one finds his or her wand so quickly. It happens only to the most intellectual and the most extraordinary. Your life will be quite unusual, dear," he then added, looking at Hermione.

Mr. Bopkin seemed at a loss as to what to say. After an uncomfortable pause, he said, " Ehm, I suppose that we pay for the missy's wand and then we depart. It is getting late," he commented, looking out the window.

They paid for the wand and then stepped out into the crisp evening. Once again, they all joined hands, and they found themselves right away in the Granger's living room. Mr. Bopkin shook hands with the Granger couple and offered a smile to Hermione, who smiled back. Then, in the blink of an eye, he vanished into thin air.

"Well, dear," said Mr. Granger, slightly embarassed. "Did you have a nice birthday?".

"It was wonderful," replied Hermione truthfully, her eyes sparkling. "Simply wonderful.".