Death is final I used to think so. I thought that after death all of our pain, all of our suffering would stop...
But
Death isn't final. At least, it wasn't for me. When my lingering soul slipped into another body, I knew that I'd have a whole new life in front of me again. And frankly, I wanted this chance. I wanted to live again. I'd tried lived my life to the fullest, and I'd gone out with a bang. Literally. I'd been at airport, waiting for my flight to go back home for Christmas when an bomb went off, and I just went to pieces. I was never going to see my family again, I never got to tell my parents that I loved them, I didn't get to tell my little brother that I could never hate him, that it wasn't his fault, I never got to see my sister getting married to the man that she fall in love with. After that agonizing experience, I really wanted more time to live. I hadn't been able to finish anything I wanted to do, and when my life ended in a flash, I regretted everything I hadn't done. I just needed more time...only little bit. And this time, I'd make sure I lived with no regrets.
I didn't realize how much I missed my family until I started searching for my sister's familiar presence, my brother's cheeky voice, my father's strength and my mother's warm stability. Their voices lingered in my ears, and I ached for them.
I was brought into a world of laughter and warm chatter. The woman holding me, presumably my mum, was cooing at me and showing me off to a man maybe my new dad.
"Look, it's our little princess, Hermione." She said softly, affection filling her tone.
My dad, who was standing next to them, smiled broadly.
"Just look at her, Jean. She's beautiful and so tiny." My mum glowed happily and raised me up towards him.
"Here. Why don't you hold your new daughter?" My dad took me gently, treating me like a porcelain doll, and I instantly knew that I was loved by my family, that my parents loved me.
I accepted it with open arms. I locked my previous family memories into a special place in my heart, a place that only I would ever know. I'd never see them again, but I'd continue to love them in my memories.
My life as a newborn baby actually passed rather quickly; I slept most of the time, and worked on training my annoyingly weak muscles (which is still not working) . This exhausted me quickly, but I was glad I was progressing at a fast pace, based on the shower of compliments my parents awarded me with.
"Dada!" I called out to my Dad, deciding to let that be my first word—he cared for me and loved me so much that I was afraid he was going to smother me with affection sometimes.
"Look at my little genius!" he squealed joyfully, "Look, Jean! She's already said her first word!"
My mom grinned widely, "You are smart little baby, aren't you. You're going to be little trouble-maker aren't you Hermione Jean Granger ?"
Warmth filled my chest at her words, for some reason. So, despite the glaring implications, I couldn't help but smile.
GLARING IMPLICATIONS?
What the bloody FUCK was I thinking? Why the motherfucking FUCK was I in the bloody Harry Potter universe?
Granger. As in Jean and Paul Granger.
Christ.
FuckingChrist.
Wait.
Harry Potter universe.
Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God…I chanted in my head, staring at the night-darkened ceiling of the sleeping house.
I was torn between screaming about the sheerawesomenessof it, and crying in horror at the implications of my existence.
Reincarnation was one thing.
Reincarnation into a FICTIONAL WORLD?
NO NO NO NO NO NO-
Suffice to say, I screamed.
A lot.
I was Hermione Granger brains behind Harry Potter victory, future wife of Ron Fucking Weasley...and with that though started hyperventilating I couldn't control my emotions of fear, the shear panic I was feeling about future. And of course I would have magic, my magic thrashed where I could not, reacting to my panic and confusion becauseI should not be alive right now specially not in fictional world.
HOLY SHIT...
The glassCRACK!ed and shattered.
I couldn't control this fucking magic shit, it just gotWORSE.I frantically tried to stop it...
Then suddenly, my world tilted again, quickly and before I knew, I was suddenly surrounded by father familiar presence he gently started humming, hugged me to his chest. "Shhh, Mia, shhhh, baby. Come now, my little princess what's wrong? It was just Strom my baby...Shhhh, my little dove.. shhhhh… My Mia.. don't worry, Daddy's here, Mummy, too, shhh…"
I should have been mortified, knowing that just the presence of my father as well as my mother and such ridiculously gentle words managed to calm me down...
The tears that sprung up courtesy of my baby-instincts dried quickly and the cries descended to hiccups.
My parents took me to their bedroom.
Mom was sacred that someone was trying to take me away while my dad just held me in his arms.
Next day dad called some people to fix the windows.
And I thought that maybe this wasn't all that bad.
Life was not boring,I never Hermione (me) had a ton of relatives, and they always came over. My uncle Albert and his wife Lucy came over often with their children, and I was horrific to realize that I was youngest among the children. That's why Hermione always behave older then she was. But , still my aunt and uncle both dotted on me. I was okay with it though; my aunt Lucy was cool, and she always brought me presents.
When I finally learned how to walk,
I was like a hellion, running all around the house barely staying at single place, with my mom and dad running behind me trying to keep me from falling on ground and hurting myself.
I was six, when I come to realization that I have to train my magic. I mean, I want to help Harry (and no... I'm not going to be like Hermione... because I don't want to pretend..and no I am not going to marry Ron) and I don't wanna die again.
So, I started doing meditation (I mean it's help for control...sue me I am Naruto fan)
As the time went on I continued to train my magic I want to achieve doing wand-less magic as well as non-verbal with only using my intention and performing spells non-verbally is very difficult and requires a good deal of practice, as it requires concentration and mental discipline alone. Such magic is often difficult to perform, and can have unexpected or volatile results if not done properly. Wands are used byto channel the magic making spellsmore accurate and potent.
Same can be done without using wand if one have concentration and patience hence meditation.
And I was passing all my classes with flying colours, so yeah I have got so much free time on my hand even with my defense classes.( Dad was literally crying when I asked him telling him how boys in my class tease me and really those little shots and then he started muttering about how much evil boys were while my mom was staring at us in amusement while dad keep on saying that he was proud that his little girl want to protect herself from evil boys.)
Mehhh... Whatever help dad to sleep in night.
Soon it was my time of my tenth birthday , I'd be attending Hogwarts in one year.
Oh... how wrong I was because just before my birthday, in the month of June one Professor Minerva McGonagall was standing at the front of door.
(What the FUCK did Hermione Granger join Hogworts at only ten while everyone else was eleven years old.)
She told my parents and I all about magic and how at eleven magical children's join Hogworts, when I asked why I was going at only ten.
" There is no problem Ms. Granger. You see kids whose birthday come during first week on September are aloud to join school. But you can't tell anyone about your real age." She told me sternly and after telling my parents that she would be coming 1st July to took us Diagon Alley for school shopping.
I call it BULLSHIT...
It means I would youngest one there...not the oldest that's not right.
Dude I feel that there is some
ulterior motives and Dumbledore is behind all of this.
So, I began making plans about future, firstly I have to find if I have any squibs in the family line..
Maybe I come from the line of squibs.
Goblins can help me there in finding about my ancestry.