Added Author's note: 12/3/2017 - Jesus, okay, I get it book one doesn't change that much but I needed a foundation. I promise things will change starting in book two. If it REALLY bothers you then just read chapters: 17 and then 21 forward but leave me alone about it!

Finally, finally, finally, the day came for Hermione to go to the Hogwarts Express. King's Cross was crazy close to where Hermione lived so she was able to take her time and eat breakfast and watch one of her shows. She dressed in one of her nicer outfits even though it'd be covered by her robes. It was the confidence about taking pride in one's appearance. She put on her grey houndstooth skirt, a white blouse, a grey cardigan, and her Mary Janes so that she would appear presentable to her peers. She hoped she didn't look too prep school.

The Grangers would be meeting the Diggorys at the station and they would show her how to get to Platform 9 and 3/4. She kept her ticket safe in her purse and held onto it all morning, checking often that the ticket was still there as if it would slip out of a non-existent hole and into the void where keys, socks, and the occasional homework assignment would disappear to.

"Hermione, say goodbye to Pongo," Mum called.

Hermione threw her arms around her dog and buried her face in his neck scruff, humming the song that she sang to him when they were new companions. She was going to miss him so much. He was going to miss her just as much. They'd been together for as long as she could remember.

"I'll be home for Christmas," she whispered to him.

Pongo whined and licked her face. He saw the trunk and he knew his beloved owner was going away. Like any good dog, he vowed to wait patiently for her return. He had loved and taken care of her and she had tended to him and given him her unconditional love in return.

"Goodbye, Pongo. Behave yourself. I love you."

Hermione stood up, checked her purse for her ticket again, and gathered her things. Excitement and anxiety surged through her and she tried not to bounce in the car on the way to King's Cross. Mum and Dad ended up selling their Ford Anglia to Mr. Weasley and had bought a new, black Toyota Camry. Mr. Weasley was thrilled at the prospect of tinkering with a muggle car and Mum and Dad were more than happy to support him.

"I'll write you often," Hermione promised them.

"I know you will," said Beatrice.

At King's Cross, they got a cart and put Hermione's things on top of it. She had her change of clothes ready to go in a separate bag on the top of her things in her trunk. Cedric and his parents were already there, waiting for her the boy's trunk strapped onto a trolley. She trotted over held out her fist.

"Hey, are you ready?" he asked, performing their handshake.

Hermione nodded eagerly, unable to stop smiling.

The Diggorys led the Grangers to the 9 and 10 platforms. Roger rested his hand on Hermione's shoulder and glanced warily around the station. King's Cross wasn't exactly the safest place for children. Which is why it is such a brilliant hiding spot.

"Ready?" Belphoebe asked. "Watch closely."

Cedric walked straight towards the wall and disappeared behind it. Hermione did a double-take. Abandoning her cart, she ran around to the other side of the wall and looked, before running back to the front again. This wasn't possible. Could a train station be inside a single pillar?

She stuck her hand through it and drew it back. A portal! She rushed back to her cart and eagerly ran through the wall with the parents not far behind.

The wizard train station was more open than the dreary, dirty King's Cross. The sun shone brightly, glinting off the scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express. Hermione couldn't believe it. She was practically crackling with excitement now.

"Wow…" Roger gasped.

"Wow indeed," said Beatrice, adjusting her glasses. She sucked in a deep breath and turned Hermione to face her. "We are so proud of you, Hermione. You are brilliant, beautiful, and special. You are going to knock the Wizarding World off their feet. Now, I want you to promise me some things."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Mum?"

"First, respect your teachers, even if they don't deserve it. That's how you get far in life. Second, make some friends. Cedric is a good friend, but make some your age. Third, just because another girl likes makeup and fashion doesn't mean you are better or worse than them in anyway. It may not be you, but never separate yourself from other girls. It's not a good mentality."

Hermione nodded.

"And finally," Beatrice sniffled. "Don't forget to floss."

Hermione smiled and hugged her mum tightly. "I love you, too."

"Remember," said Roger. "If anything goes wrong what is our safety code?"

"Tell Uncle Damian to let the cat out," Hermione said dutifully. It was well known between them that Uncle Damian, mum's brother, was a bobby and terrified of cats. It made for an easy danger code.

"Break a couple rules once in a while," said Beatrice with a wink.

"Honey, no," Roger scolded.

"What? She needs to live a little," said Beatrice. "Lord knows she'll have nothing to rebel against with us."

Hermione gave them both giant hugs and dragged on her luggage to the first empty compartment. Cedric helped her put her trunk on the overhead shelf.

"Oi, Ced!"

"Hey, Red," said Cedric. "Come on and meet my best friend, Hermione."

Red was short, squat, and dark haired. Hermione offered her hand and he accepted it with a firm shake.

"Nice to meet you," she said. "Cedric told me a little bit about you."

"Really?" said Red. "Good things?"

"Of course. I've never heard him say bad things about anyone."

"Sounds like him," said Red with a nod. "Come on, Cedric, everyone's waiting to see you."

Hermione followed behind them and saw a full compartment waiting for Cedric. Squashing down her jealousy, she backed away and went back to her own compartment where a chubby, blonde boy was sitting with a toad in his lap. He looked surprised when he saw her.

"I-I'm sorry, I can leave," he said.

"No, don't," said Hermione, sitting down across from him. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Neville Longbottom," he said, timidly shaking her hand. "First year."

"It's my first year at Hogwarts, as well," said Hermione. "I'm really excited."

As the train filled up, they were joined by two South Asian girls also first years named Padma and Parvati Patil. Even though they looked exactly the same their personalities were completely opposite. Padma was quiet and seemed to be a bookworm like Hermione. Parvati was louder and more of a social butterfly. Much easier to tell apart than the Weasley twins who were both loud, social butterflies.

An hour after departure, an older lady with a huge cart full of snacks rolled by. Hermione pulled out a couple sickles and looked at the array of sweets. Wizards sure liked candy.

"I think I'll try… a cauldron cake and I'll take one of those turkey sandwiches," she said and paid the woman. Just because her parents weren't there didn't mean she was going to slack off on eating healthy foods. Parvati and Padma got Pumpkin Pasties and Licorice Wands respectively while Neville chose one of the sandwiches offered, but no sweets as if someone would come out of the wood paneling to berate him on his life choices.

The cauldron cake was so sweet it made Hermione's teeth hurt a little. Don't get her wrong, it was tasty, but wow.

"So…" said Parvati. "Muggle-borns?"

"I am," said Hermione.

"Pureblood," said Neville. "Though for years we all thought I was a squib." He moaned and covered his face. "I'm probably going to be in Hufflepuff."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "You make that sound like it's a bad thing."

Padma and Parvati wiggled their heads.

"It's not exactly a proud mark to be a Hufflepuff," said Parvati.

"My friend Cedric is a Hufflepuff," Hermione argued, feeling offended on his behalf. "Hufflepuff's are loyal and hard-working and believe magic should be for everyone, so if you are a Hufflepuff, Neville, you'll have a good support system behind you."

"I thought you said you were muggle-born," said Padma, confused.

"I am, but since I know Cedric I got a bit of a crash course on everything when I found out I was a witch last September."

"Ah, I see."

Unable to wait any longer, Hermione got her school robes out of her trunk and pulled them on. Neville, uncertain of himself, followed suit and the Patil twins just went along with it as one less thing to worry about. It seemed that most people wore their robes over their everyday clothes. One could potentially wear nothing under it but the most popular style seemed to be a white collared shirt and tie with house colors. She didn't know how to tie a tie so she decided against conforming to that.

"Oh no!"

"What?!"

"I lost my toad!" said Neville, searching the compartment frantically. "I can't lose him, my Uncle Algie got him for me when I finally showed magic."

"Deep breaths, Neville," said Hermione, placing firm hands on his shoulders. "In… two… three… out…two…three."

He followed her lead and while still anxious was able to breathe once more.

"We'll go find him. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll help," Padma offered.

The three of them set off in search. Padma went with Neville so that he wouldn't have to be alone. Hermione ducked her head into any open compartment and asked about a toad. She soon enough came upon Cedric's compartment. They were already in their school robes and she could finally see how they were personalized with yellow trimmings and patches and belts. Cedric was one of the ones who wore a white collared shirt and tie.

"Hey, what's up?" Cedric asked with a smile.

"Have you seen a toad?" she asked. "It's a European spadefoot toad with red splotches."

"What's the toad's name?" a blonde girl asked.

"I don't know, it never told me."

It took a second. Cedric snorted loudly and shook his head. "Good one. No, I haven't seen one."

"Well, if you do he belongs to Neville Longbottom," she was about to move on, then ducked back in. "Oh, and if he is sorted into Hufflepuff, make sure he has a good support system. He doesn't appear to have very high self-esteem."

"Yes, of course."

"See you later," she waved and moved on until she reached the back of the train and entered a compartment trashed with sweets wrappers.

"Have any of you seen a toad— oh, Ron. Hi!" She smiled and waved.

"Hello," he said with a mouth full of sweets. It made Hermione's stomach churn to see the half-chewed food.

She glanced to the wiry boy in a t-shirt that was much too large for him. His hair was a curly unkempt mass, a bit like hers, and olive skin, a prominent nose, and his round glasses were broken, held together only by a bit of tape. She then noticed that Ron's wand, battered with a bit of the core poking out the top, was drawn and pointed at Scabbers.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Are you practicing a spell? Let's see it then."

Ron cleared his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow; Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!"

It did… absolutely nothing. The jelly bean box clattered off of the rat's head. The rat itself dozed off.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" she asked skeptically. "It's not very good, is it? I've tried a few spells and they've all worked for me. For example—" she sat down in front of the boy and drew her wand. "Occulus Reparo!" Her words were perfectly enunciated. Thank you, speech therapy. She actually used the spell on her mum's glasses when Dad accidentally sat on them. According to her book, Hogwarts: A History, the Trace on wands doesn't activate until they passed through the wards of the school. Sort of dumb but it dated back to when Diagon Alley was more localized and families had to rely on the shops in their own towns for school supplies. A government standard Trace was the best way to make sure it was on all of them.

The boy blinked his striking green eyes and pulled off the glasses so he could inspect them.

"Wow!" He put them back on and Hermione noticed a scar on his forehead that looked like he was struck by lightning.

"Crikey O'Reilly… You're Harry Potter!" she said and stuck out her hand. "I've read all about you. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way."

He tentatively shook her hand. "I take it everyone knows who I am?"

"Of course, you're about as famous as Dumbledore himself," said Hermione. "If it were me, I'd want to learn everything I could about myself."

Certainly, this scrawny boy couldn't be the Harry Potter she read about in her books. He was so… frail looking. Malnourished was the proper word. Hopefully he was just one of those children that had such a high metabolism they were skinny until they were in their 20s. Honestly, if he stood sideways and stuck out his tongue he'd look like a zipper.

"Don't you have a toad to look for?" said Ron.

"Oh, right." She stood up. "You should change into your robes. We'll be there soon." She stopped halfway out of the compartment and turned to Ron. "By the way, you have dirt on your nose. Right here." She tapped her own nose.

Unfortunately, Trevor was never found. The Patil twins consoled Neville while Hermione went through one last check in their compartment and even through Neville's trunk just to be safe.

Neville had calmed down by the time they reached the station and soon became distracted by the unsureness of what to do now. The night air was rather cold sending a chill along Hermione's neck. She wished she had a scarf but it probably wouldn't fit uniform requirements.

"Firs' years! Firs' years with me. All righ' there Harry?" A large man shouted. Hermione had to check herself to make sure she wasn't gaping like a fish. This man must've been nine feet tall. He was also… furry. He had a large black beard and wore clothes like he just walked out of a Lord of the Rings novel. He must've been Hagrid. Cedric mentioned him before and said he went down to the man's hut once or twice when Professor Sprout needed assistance and chose a student to go get him.

The older kids headed down to a set of carriages while the giant man led the first years down a rather slick path. Hermione was sure she could feel the consistency of the algae covered rocks underneath her shoes. It was steep and one or two of the forty kids had to grab onto another in order to avoid sliding down the rest of the way.

"Yeh'll get your first view of Hogwarts in just a sec," Hagrid called guiding them along. "Jus' round this bend."

There were gasps of awe from everyone.

The way the castle clung to the side of a mountain should have been architecturally impossible. It was a picture-perfect scene with the many towers and turrets dark against the starry sky and the lights of the castle alight and warm. Absolutely beautiful in its own way. Hermione could have stood there staring at it for forever.

"No more than four to a boat," said Hagrid jolting them out of their awe.

Hermione led Neville to the same boat as Ron and Harry. Ron was a little standoffish when she met him that summer but she hoped they could become friends.

The boats moved on their own towards the castle. With no breeze in the air, the lake was smooth broken by neither wake nor fish. Hermione was stock still, grabbing onto her seat and wondering what she would do if the boat were to tip. And then, they passed through the wards of the castle. She shivered as invisible strands trailed over her skin, each vibrating at their own frequency.

The first years remained silent, taking it all in.

"Heads down!"

Hermione ducked just as they reached a cliff. An ivy curtain brushed along her back as they passed through. The tunnel ran right under the castle, though Hermione wasn't sure where it was taking them. She didn't think now would be the appropriate time to sing the Phantom of the Opera.

Soon enough, they reached an underground harbor and clambered out onto the pebbled shore. The boats steered themselves along to a boathouse.

"Oy, you there," Hagrid said to Neville and plucked an amphibian off the ground. "Is that your toad?"

"Trevor!" Neville cried out gleefully and held out his hands.

The children hurried up a set of stairs cut out of the rock to the damp, grassy grounds and then another case of stairs leading to the front of the school.

"Got everything?" said Hagrid. He turned and knocked on the heavy oak door to the castle three times.

The door swung open to reveal Professor McGonagall. Hermione waved in greeting but it went unheeded. Instead, she eyed the group sternly and led them inside.

The entrance hall was so big, Hermione was sure her house could fit inside it comfortably. It really was a castle, complete with iron torches melded into the stone walls and large tapestries hanging from iron rods close to the ceiling. Dozens of statues lined the walls and flanked the tapestries and stared at various spots around the room each with either an expression of serenity, determination, or ferocity. Hermione could barely make out the ceiling in the firelight though she was sure it would be architecturally improbable as well. Facing the group was an impossibly large marble staircase. She had visited castles all over Britain with her father and none of them had compared to this. Perhaps they looked somewhat like this in their prime. Then again, their steps were smaller and narrower and so were the rooms.

Rather than through the doors where hundreds of voices sounded, the children were led into a small area, forced to stand closer together than Hermione was comfortable with. She tucked her hands close to her chest and tried to ignore the shoulders brushing against hers.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Harry tried to flatten his hair and Hermione straightened her back wishing her massive hair was smaller and straighter.

No. None of that.

Oh… what did that self-help book say were the foundations to make friends?

Confidence.

Attitude.

Respect.

Empathy.

"I will return for you in a moment," Professor McGonagall said finally. "Please, wait quietly."

Harry and Ron whispered quietly about what sort of test it was that sorted them. When Hermione first thought about it, she thought maybe statues of the founders would claim them or something dramatic like that. She had begged Cedric in several letters to tell her what it was, but his lips (and quill) were sealed.

"It's really easy," he told her. "It's not an exam and it's nothing humiliating. Unless you have a fear of people looking at you."

Even so, the suspense was killing her so she started muttering spells under her breath to occupy her mind. Someone screamed and a couple dozen pearly white and translucent ghosts passed overhead through the back wall. They paid no attention to the first years as they chatted with one another.

What would ghosts have to talk about anyway? Hermione read that they were rather stuck in the past and couldn't retain new information well.

A ghost with an Elizabethan ruff and tights finally noticed the children and the short and plump friar he was conversing with did too.

"New students!" The friar smiled. He was the ghost of Hufflepuff House, Hermione recalled. Cedric said he was really funny and had a habit of popping his head out of the roast pan.

"I hope to see you in Hufflepuff," the ghost continued. "My old House you know."

Professor McGonagall returned. "Move along now, the sorting is about to start."

The ghosts moved on (literally speaking) leaving them alone with the strict witch once more. "Form a line and follow me."

There was a bit of shuffling as they sorted themselves. Hermione found herself behind a boy with bleach blond hair and in front of Parvati. Her legs hadn't shaken this much since she had to perform a speech in front of her entire school. All of the students were required at the end of the Speech and Public Speaking Class which only lasted about a month. There was a lot of second-hand embarrassment watching kids fumble through half-assed speeches on dress codes and how to get polar bears to stop eating penguins (yes that happened). If she got through that, she could do this. She stepped through the double doors and once again gaped in awe.

It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver.

Hermione looked up at the enchanted ceiling. If she wasn't already aware of it she would have thought it just opened up the heavens.

The line stopped. Hermione looked to the side and saw Cedric sitting there to her right. He smiled encouragingly and gave her a thumbs up, she waved back excitedly. It was nice to already know someone who knew what to expect.

Professor McGonagall brought out a four-legged stool and placed a raggedy looking hat on top of it.

Maybe they had make a rabbit out of it. Abracadabra was the incantation.

To her disbelief, the hat twitched and broke into song. Its voice was gravelly and off-key but nobody else seemed to mind. It sang of the four houses and all about Hogwarts and as soon as it was done the hall burst into applause. The hat bowed to each of the four tables. Professor McGonagall took out a long scroll and opened it.

"When I call your name, please step forward and put on the hat. Abbot, Hannah."

A pink faced blonde with pigtails gulped and made her way to the front. She put on the hat, which fell over her eyes. It paused a moment before announcing

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The entire table cheered, so Hermione clapped too. Was it really going to shout like that every time? She wasn't sure she'd be able to handle that. But oh, she really wanted to be sorted.

Bouncing on her toes, Hermione's excitement grew. The blond boy in front of her gave her a disgusted look, but his attitude wasn't going to dampen hers. She applauded for each placement, even the ones who were going to Slytherin. They were eleven after all. Eleven-year-olds weren't evil. Mum said thirteen-year-olds were the evil ones.

"Granger, Hermione."

Hermione practically ran on her toes to the hat. She eagerly jammed it on her head and sat down on the stool with a huge grin. It fell over her eyes and she couldn't see anything, but, oh, could she feel the magic. Ancient magic seemed to have a different frequency. Something deep that, from centuries of growing and thriving, resonated within her.

Eager, aren't you?

Crikey O'Reilly… The hat was inside her brain!

Now… where to put you? It's a shame neither of your parents had magic. You have great cunning and ambition. Slytherin would be proud to have someone like you in his house. For shame, for shame.

Where will you put me? She wondered. My best friend is in Hufflepuff.

Ah. Hufflepuff is a great house, but not right for you. No. Must be either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Hmm… Oh, you already know wandless magic? Yes, Ravenclaw would be thrilled. If she were alive she'd probably apprentice you immediately. Oh, now this is odd.

Odd?

Oh, it's nothing to worry about for now. Now, Gryffindor? That would be an excellent house for you. Such a strong sense of justice you have. Excellent fighting skills, just excellent. Oh, dear. I simply can't decide.

There are few wizards like you. In the past, children with minds like yours were called changelings because they didn't act like normal children. Your mind simply works differently, but that could potentially be better. You must be careful not to overload your mind, however.

Hm… Ravenclaw? No… No, I see your changeling mind would not cope. Ravenclaws are like herding cats and what you need is a place that will help you be more rounded. Better be… cover your ears…

Hermione clapped her hands over her ears.

"GRYFFINDOR!"