A/N: I don't think I've ever been hit with such an inspiration to write something in my entire life. Yes, yes, I know that I have LWFOTW and MM to continue, but I think I'm going to focus on this story much more than them this summer. I would also like to point out that Harry is going to come across darker and probably not as likable. I want him this way, and you'll find out later. Also, while this is a Harmony fic, don't expect them to be together right away. In fact, I rather dislike stories that make them a couple within the first few chapters, it makes less exciting for me to read. Anyway, moving on to the story! Please enjoy and read the A/N down below!
Disclaimer: I promise on my magic that I really am not J.K. Rowling. Oh wait, I don't have magic. Well, I promise anyway. Harry Potter is her world and I'm only changing it up a bit.
(A Mother's Love)
In a place where trains whistled, people hustled, and families cried, a mother and her daughter were exchanging hugs.
"Now, darling, if you want to come home do not hesitate to get one of your Professors to-" the women, who was choking the living daylights out of her daughter, couldn't finish what she was saying because she had started crying.
"Mum! I'll be fine, honestly!" the daughter snapped and pulled out of her mother's tight hold. She instantly felt bad. The girl cast her head downwards, ashamed, but felt a hand pull her chin up. The women gave her a watery smile, then put her hand down by her side.
"I just want my baby girl to come back to me, and not get caught up with all that," here the women wiped some tears that were leaking out, and then waved her hands above her like a crazy person.
The girl grabbed her mothers arms and put them down by her sides. Looking into her eyes she said, "Mum, I'll always come back to you. I promise."
Her mother sighed, "How did I raise such a brilliant girl?" She gave her daughter one last hug. "Okay, off you go then! Straight through the barrier, right? I don't know if that's actually safe, I wish there was someway I could come..."
Her daughter kissed her cheek, "I'll be back at Christmas. And I'll be writing home every day. Now, I really have to go, mum. It's ten til eleven! I love you!"
Her mother nodded and watched as her daughter took her trolly and placed it meters in front of the barrier. She turned around and winked at her, before running towards the brick barrier. The women could only watch as she disappeared, and felt another set of tears in her eyes.
"I love you Hermione."
(Teenage angst)
Harry Potter was very irritated, and it was barely ten o'clock. He had just got done hanging with some big oaf, Hagrid, or something the other, and he wanted to just bash his head into a wall.
He was sitting on a bench at King's Cross, going through his memories of the past couple days. If you'd ask him a month ago if he would take the chance to leave the Dursley's, if one presented itself, he would have undoubtedly said yes.
Now, he wasn't so certain.
Sure, the Dursley's were awful to him, and everyday was unbearable, but at least they were cautious about things. He had learnt over the years that being cautious was good, and that change was't, from experience of course.
Yes, but now he knew of his real heritage and past, and just like his aunt and uncle, he was not pleased.
There were many things he was not happy about. First, was that no one from the new world he was now apart of had even bothered to make sure he was okay! He had been emotionally and physically abused for all his life and no one had tried to step in.
Secondly, why had he been put with- he struggled to remember the term- muggles in the first place! Family or not, you do not take a baby who's parents were just killed by a mass murderer, that died by the baby's doing (or lack of) and then send it off to live with muggles who hated everything to do with magic! You absolutely cannot do that! Harry doubted his mother had actually put her sister and her brother-in-law as his guardians, should anything happen to them, in the first place. She probably had knew how horrid her sister was.
Lastly, Harry hadn't even set foot on the Hogwarts Express, but he could already tell that people were going to use him. Whether it was because he had a title (the-boy-who-lived, how ridiculous was that?) or because he came from a wealthy family like the Potter's, or maybe there was some stupid scheme he was going to be thrown into. Either way, Harry could tell that his life was going to be anything but easy going from then on.
He was snapped out of his bitter thoughts at the sound of a nagging voice rushing by. Harry looked up to see a chubby women with red hair, counting other red headed people around her. He assumed they were her children, and watched as she looked exasperated at what looked like twins, rolling her eyes and nagging some more. Harry saw them run through a brick barrier, and felt his eyebrows raise a bit. So that was how he was supposed to get to the platform. Here he was, not knowing what to do because the old oaf didn't tell him, and suddenly Harry felt like a sitting duck.
He looked at clock hanging nearby. 10:17. Harry nearly groaned. He was tired of sitting outside of the real platform, and now that he knew how to get through, he didn't want to in fear of people recognizing him and asking questions. He had had plenty enough of that happen in Diagon Alley to last him a lifetime.
Harry sighed and grabbed a newspaper he saw on the ground near the bench he'd been sitting on. It said nothing important nor interesting, but it was the only amusement he could find until he was able to get one of his books out of his trunk on the train.
He read for quite some time until he heard a voice squeak out near him.
"- Ten till eleven! I love you!" said a bushy haired girl he spotted. He looked up at the clock and realized she was right, and gathered his stuff to go through the barrier. Harry watched the brunette run through it, and waited about a minute before making his own go at it.
(Privacy Is A Virtue)
It was fascinating. She hadn't ever thought that going through something solid could be possible, but Hermione realized that any science she was aware of was probably going to be proved wrong a lot throughout the year.
Hermione took a couple steps onto the platform, in awe of everything going around. Families saying goodbye, students meeting up after a summer apart, it was such a happy and exciting site.
Smiling, she walked through everyone and made her way to the train where she stopped, wondering how she was going to get her trunk on it. Hermione's smile widened when she realized that she could try out one of the spells she had read about earlier.
Taking her wand out, she gave a determine look to her trunk before speaking the words, "Wingardium Leviosa." When nothing happened, Hermione wasn't surprised. She tried two more times before getting it right and also mentally patted herself the back before stepping on the train, with her trunk following behind her.
Hermione stopped towards the back of the train where she found an empty compartment. Putting her trunk on the ledge above the seats (not before taking a potions book out) she made herself comfortable, and seconds later the train whistled and took off.
She felt a burning sensation in her throat as she realized she was on her way to a new life.
But she couldn't help to think about how much she would miss her mother because of it.
She let herself cry out one tear. Just one.
... Which was good because seconds after she wiped it away she heard someone open the compartment door.
A black haired figure peeked around the door, scowling as he took in her appearance in the compartment. "Right, of course," he muttered.
A bit surprised at his attitude (and a little offended) Hermione did her best to make herself look pleasant. Besides, she didn't know if maybe it had been an off day for him or something.
Or something, indeed.
"Hello, having trouble finding a compartment? You can join mine, if you wish," she said in a polite voice.
He narrowed his eyes at her, but came in and took out a book from his trunk, which he set next to hers on the edge. Taking a seat across from her, he opened the book and was silent.
Hermione shrugged. She understood not wanting to be bothered. Picking up where she had left off in her book, she continued reading about the importance and the twelve uses of dragon's blood.
(Too Much Noise)
It was too loud. That was the first thing Harry thought as he stepped onto the platform where people were screaming at each other. Honestly, hadn't they ever heard of inside voices?
Rolling his eyes, he rolled his trolley with his trunk and owl on it to the train, but was stopped.
"Oh my Merlin! Are you Harry Potter? Mum, mum! I think that's Harry Potter! Can I have your autograph? What's it like to be famous? You must love it! I can't believe I'm meeting the-"
Harry pushed through the girl who had been annoying him. That had been exactly what he had been afraid of happening.
He was able to reach the steps onto the train, and struggled to get his trunk and owl on it, but when he did he kicked the trolly out of the way of the entrance. He lugged his things down the train, looking through every door, sometimes getting recognized, sometimes not.
He had almost made his way to the very end of the train, when he opened a compartment and saw a blonde boy and two sluggish looking brunettes inside with him. The blonde turned to him with a raised eyebrow and sneer, "Sorry. This one's full," he said arrogantly. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Well thank goodness, otherwise I'd have to share one with a prat," Harry said. The blonde looked surprised, but then angry.
"And what right do you have to... talk to... me... like that," he lamely finished off, and Harry realized that the kid had probably seen his scar. Snapping his mouth shut, the boy turned to the goons behind him.
Realizing that they were just going to ignore him, he stepped back out of the compartment, and heard the train whistle before feeling the tug of it moving. And he still hadn't found a compartment.
Or good company.
Which Harry realized was probably going to be rare or non-existent.
He had barely opened the next compartment when something came out and hit a wall behind him. Ducking as another thing flew out, he got annoyed and just shut the compartment door all together. He barely heard a few people apologizing as he moved to the last compartment. It had to be empty, he had practically saw everyone single person going to Hogwarts.
With a tired kind of motion, he slid open the doors...
...To reveal the same bushy haired girl he had seen earlier. "Right, of course," he said, not to her, but to himself. Harry watched her face fall a bit, but she opened her mouth and said, "Hello, having trouble finding a compartment? You can join mine, if you wish."
Harry narrowed his eyes at her, mostly out of shock of her politeness. Considering it was the last compartment, and he hadn't wished to be in any other ones, he decided that it would have to do.
He walked in the compartment, taking a book out of his trunk before he set it up next to the girl's trunk, he set his owl next to him on the seat. Opening the book, he was pleased to know that she hadn't recognized him and kept to herself. She was probably the first non-annoying person he had met that day.
But Harry Potter was still irritated, and it was barely eleven o'clock.
(More On Privacy Is A Virtue)
It was a couple hours later when there was another knock on the door. Hermione looked up to see Harry ignoring it, but also slightly glaring into his book, before she spoke up.
"Please, come in!" she called out.
A pudgy boy stepped into their compartment, wringing his hands together in an unsure way.
"H-hi," he stammered, "My n-name's Neville L-longbottom. I've, er, misplaced m-my toad. H-have you seen him?" he asked nervously. Hermione felt bad and took pity on Neville. She gave him a small smile.
"I'm Hermione Granger, pleased to meet you Neville," she started, "And no, I have not seen your troll. But I would gladly help you look for him, if you'd like?" she said. The boy shook his head.
"No, that's al-alright. I've checked everywhere, he must be with m-my Gran-"
"Is that him?"
Hermione sharply turned her head to the other boy in the compartment, who was pointing at something by Neville's foot. Looking down, both Neville and Hermione saw a toad and the nervous boy scooped him up, making sure he was secure in his hands.
"Trevor!" he said happily, but looked up embarrassed, "T-thanks! Uh, I guess I'll s-see you two at the feast t-tonight?" he asked, but Hermione didn't get a chance to say something back before the boy that had been in her compartment shut the door on him. She hadn't even noticed he had gotten up.
Slightly annoyed, she glared at the other boy. "Well that was quite rude," she said. He didn't seem to care.
"He got what he wanted and I let him know that it was time to leave," the boy shrugged.
Hermione pursed her lips. She really tried not to say anything that wasn't even the least bit kind to people, but this boy just annoyed her to no end with his attitude. She didn't even know his name!
The boy was watching her, with an eyebrow raised, and she realized that he was waiting for her to say something.
"You have my name, but I don't have yours," Hermione took a different approach. There, she acted civil, maybe not as kind as she could be, but still better than the boy was acting.
He looked to his right, with a distasteful look on his face. "It's Harry. Harry Potter," he said. Hermione nodded. Had she been really paying attention, she would have remembered from her readings that Harry Potter was the only known person to have lived through the Killing Curse, and also known to have defeated Voldemort (or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, as her books said) when he was just a baby. But she had not paid attention, so the information flew right over her head.
"Harry Potter. Alright then. And what has you in such a bad mood this afternoon, Harry?" Hermione took a chance with that question, and bit her lip.
Harry looked at her curiously, he couldn't figure her out. She knew his name, and hadn't asked any questions about the spell he used when he was just a year old to defeat Voldemort.
He was also curious about why she seemed like she cared. No one had ever asked him what was wrong, and he was almost touched. But he had built up a wall a long time ago, and so tried not to let himself feel anything. She was only going to use him, after all. Just like everyone else in his life did.
"Woke up on the wrong side of the bed," he lied. He could tell that she knew he was lying, but they both ignored it.
They stared at each other for a few minutes before someone else opened their compartment door.
"Candy from the trolley, dears?" an old women asked, gesturing to the loads of sweets she was selling.
Hermione knew she couldn't spare any money on candy, so she shook her head. Harry, however, looked at everything with marvel etched on his face. He acted like he had never had candy before, and for a moment Hermione thought it to be true when he unloaded the arm full of candy onto his seat.
He must of saw her gaping, and through flavored wormed gummies, he said, "Vant 'ome?" motioning over the sweets. Hermione shook her head, but Harry threw her a Chocolate Frog anyway.
Having read about Chocolate Frogs, she anticipated the rush of it trying to escape, before it hopped into her mouth, instead of onto the window like it had probably intended to. She closed her eyes at the deliciousness. Wizard chocolate was definitely better than the chocolate back at home.
She looked down into the container to see a Wizards Card. Picking it up, she read out loud, "Albus Dumbledore," and then continued to read the description on the bottom of the card. She held it out to Harry, "You want?" she asked, but he shook his head. "Keep it," he said.
Silence came over them, once more.
"What house would you like to be in?" Hermione asked, watching as he ate some jellybeans. He made a face and then spit it out.
Ignoring her question, he said, "Ew, what in the world!" He gave the box of jellybeans a look of distaste before closing it up and throwing it back down beside him. He looked up at Hermione.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Harry asked.
"What house would you like to be in?" she repeated.
He looked confused, "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said. Hermione felt a rush of happiness at the chance to be able to explain something to someone. There was just something about sharing knowledge the made her incredibly excited.
"Well, in Hogwarts they have four houses; Hufflepuff, for the loyal and helpful, Gryffindor, for the courageous, Ravenclaw, for those who yearn for knowledge, and Slytherin, for the cunning and persistent," she said. Harry gave her a shrug.
"Well, which house is the best?" he said.
Hermione thought about it for a moment, and then voiced her opinions, "I think that all of them are great in their own way. But, Albus Dumbledore, you know, the Headmaster," she watched as Harry nodded along, "He was in Gryffindor."
"Well, I definitely don't want to be in that house then," Harry said.
"Why not?" Hermione gave him a questioning look, but Harry shrugged again.
"Just 'cause."
Hermione nodded in acknowledgment, and then looked out the window for a few minutes, before she heard Harry say something.
"Er, Hermione, what house would you like to be put?" he asked, Hermione noticed he seemed uncomfortable.
"I think all of them sound nice, but I don't think I would like to be in Slytherin," she said.
"Why not?," Harry asked.
Hermione pursed her lips again, and turned so that she was completely facing him. "Well," she started, "I've read that Slytherin tends to like people who have been born into magical families, more than they like people who were not. There's really not many people who have non-magical parents that are put in their.
"You mean muggles."
"What?" Hermione said, "What are muggles?" she asked. Harry smiled, but it was so faint that Hermione thought she was imagining it.
"Muggles are non-magical people," he said.
"Interesting... muggles," Hermione said under her breath. She heard Harry take a deep breath and struggled to find something to say. Hermione really didn't want to spend the next five hours in silence. "What house do you think they'll put me in?" she quickly asked.
"Gryffindor," he said.
Hermione was surprised, and she furrowed her brows together, "Gryffindor? Why Gryffindor?" she asked. He shrugged his by now trademark shrug.
"Well, I guess you'd have to be pretty brave to strike up a conversation with a stranger," he said.
Hermione giggled, "That's not being brave, that's being selfish. How else am I supposed to make friends so I'm not alone?" she said. Harry went rigid. Hermione was instantly afraid she had said the wrong thing.
She cleared her throat, "I think they'll put you in Gryffindor, too," she said. Harry seemed to snap out of his trance to give her a questioning look.
"Gryffindor? I'd rather hope not... but Ravenclaw sounds good. Yes, I think that's where I'll go," he said, and Hermione gave him a smile, happy to know she hadn't completely mucked things up.
To her disappointment, though, he turned his attention back down to his book sitting beside him. Hermione watched as he opened it and continued from where he had left off, before she copied his actions and focused on her own book.
Just like she was afraid of, they did spend the next five hours in silence.
And Hermione was a little bit surprised when she realized that she was comfortable with it.
(A Whole New World)
The only thing that registered through Hermione's brain was that it was perfection and absolutely breathtaking.
Hogwarts, that is.
The first years were all currently in boats on the way to the castle, Harry, Hermione, and Neville were all in the same one together. Which, while Hermione was secretly happy, Harry seemed a bit peeved every time someone gasped in awe or laughed.
He was like a grumpy old man. One that hated happiness.
They had finally reached the grounds of Hogwarts and Hermione had to keep herself from running towards the entrance. When they entered the castle she was mesmerized. It was beautiful, just like the outside. Except, inside it felt more magical and for a second Hermione entertained the thought about being a Princess living in a castle that big.
She thought she could have died from happiness right then and there.
(Something New)
Friend.
Hermione had pretty much called him her friend, hadn't she?
He'd never had a friend before.
Harry had made sure to snag a boat with her in it on their ride on the lake. He had told himself it was to avoid Hagrid, but he'd be lying completely if he didn't admit that he actually liked Hermione's company. Unlike Longbottom, who was also in the boat. And every other first year blubbering off like it was the most amazing thing in their life.
Even though it was, Harry just didn't care for their dramatics.
They had all just entered the castle when Harry realized he had gotten separated from Hermione. Trying to not let it bother him so much, he made his way towards the front of the group.
"Potter." A voice said, and an arm grabbed his shoulder. Harry tensed up, but turned around looking at the blonde boy he had seen on the train, standing there.
"Yes," Harry said, sounding bored. The blonde boy ignored the lack of energy in his voice, and opened his mouth to start what seemed like a rehearsed speech.
"I think we got off to a wrong start. I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," he said, putting his hand out to Harry who merely raised an eyebrow at it. When it was clear he wasn't going to shake his hand, Malfoy put it back down.
"Right, well. I'm aware of your... unfortunate upbringing, and despite the fact you've been tainted with Muggles, I would like for us to become friends..," he kept talking, but Harry focused on the way Malfoy had said 'friends' which had sounded like the way someone would order an execution. He wasn't sure why that was what came to mind, but mentally shrugged it off.
"... so you don't bother with the wrong crowd," Malfoy finished.
Harry rolled his eyes, "Sorry. I wasn't really listening. Maybe we could chat later, yeah? Or not, since I don't really like wasting my time," he said. Malfoy's face turned angry, and Harry was saved from having to hear him speak again by an older women with a pointed hat came by. He had seen her when they had walked in at first, but he hadn't paid attention to what she had said. Now, however, he was all ears.
"They are ready for you," was all she said, before she turned back to go in the room she had just exited from.
All the First Years seemed to take a collective breath together, before following behind.
Walking through the double doors, Harry looked around to see all of the older students watching them. For a split second he felt nervous at the fact that he had never asked Hermione how they got sorted, or even why! But he relaxed, it couldn't be dangerous, could it?
Besides, the Wizarding World would never put a child's life in danger. Harry rolled his eyes at the irony, before he stopped.
There, in front of him, was a rickety old stool, with an even older hat on top of it. Harry almost fell over from shock as the hat started singing. Singing.
When it stopped, everyone applauded, including Harry, even though he hadn't understood most of what the hat had said. The women stepped next to the stool, and picked up the hat.
"When I call your names, you shall come forth and sit on the stool, where I'll place the Sorting Hat on you," she said.
"Abbott, Hannah."
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Harry looked over to where she saw a table of people wearing yellow and black were cheering for the girl.
The list went on and Harry counted how many times someone was put into what house, to past the time. He looked up when he heard Hermione's name get called.
(The Meaning Behind Words)
Hermione was incredibly nervous as she waited for her name to be called. It felt like forever as she waited for-
"Granger. Hermione."
That was it. Now was her chance to find out if she really did belong in the Wizarding World. If she actually was a witch, and none of it was just a stupid joke being played on her (although, in her brain she rationally knew that it wasn't).
Taking a deep breath, Hermione closed her eyes and mustered all her courage to walk to the stool. She sat down and waited for the feeling of the Sorting Hat to be placed on her head.
Hello.
Hermione jolted at the voice she was hearing. But she knew it must of been in her head, because she hadn't heard a voice whenever anyone else went up to be sorted. Unless it was their house name, of course.
Why, how very astute of you to notice.
Not really.
You're quick to turn down a compliment.
It was just rationalization.
Perhaps Ravenclaw would be a good place for you?
I really don't mind, I just want to have friends and, uh-
To prove yourself. Yes, very Hufflepuff and Slytherin like of you.
I don't think you should put me in Slytherin, I'd rather not have to deal with them belittling me for my birth.
That's a bit prejudice, though.
Better to be prejudice and on guard, than to be anxious and cautious.
Very good points, but Slytherin does suit you well.
I told you, not Slytherin.
Aren't we stubborn, very much like every other Gry-
Gryffindor you've sorted? I thought that was the house of the courageous, and I'm hardly brave.
There's many definitions to many words, but enough with the chit chat. I've decided where I'm going to place you.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Hermione was shocked for a minute, and still had her eyes closed as she waited for the hat to say something else. But then Hermione realized that it had been taken off and she heard people cheering for her.
Hermione smiled, and headed towards the table of scarlet and gold. She sat down next to an older student, who smiled at her and introduced himself as a Prefect. Which she knew little of.
She waited with baited breath as more and more people were sorted.
"Patil, Padma."
"RAVENCLAW!"
Hermione grinned at the dark skinned girl making her way to the Ravenclaw table.
"Patil, Parvati."
"GRYFFINDOR!"
"Potter, Harry."
The hall went silent.
Hermione watched as Harry took cautious steps towards the stool, and then sat down, looking like he was going to jump up and run away at any time. Minutes later the hat opened it's mouth and everyone was very surprised with what came out of it.
(Pre-Dreams)
Harry wasn't sure how he felt about Hermione being sorted into Ravenclaw, he should have suspected it though. She had been reading a potions book the entire ride to Hogwarts.
He also wasn't very sure about how he felt about his own sorting. It wasn't like he was disappointed, but he felt as if he had disappointed everyone else. And as much as he tried to act like it didn't bother him, it slightly did.
He couldn't help that he was sorted into Slytherin, it was his personality. That's where he belonged, that's where he thought he belonged.
Harry turned over in his green and silver sheets, trying to sleep. His dorm mates had fell asleep awhile ago, but Harry's body wasn't exhausted.
It was, on the contrary, very energized. Which kept Harry up for a couple more hours, before he finally let himself fall asleep, where if anyone had seen him, they would have seen a smile on his face.
~O~
(Ugh, No)
"Potter, Harry."
Harry slowly gathered his senses before he slowly made his walk to what seemed like his doom. He gulped as the women put the hat on him. He noticed that it slightly smelled, and it made him wrinkle his nose in disgust.
Now, it's not that bad is it.
Harry's eyes widened in surprise. What in the- is a hat talking to me? Is it in my head!
You know, I'm right here. You could at least be kind and not call me an 'it'. I'm the Sorting Hat, ancient and extremely powerful, as well as very rare. Although, it seems like you'll be exposed to more ancient and extremely powerful artifacts, but that's a conversation for another time.
Ugh. Okay?
You're not very talkative, so we can probably rule Gryffindor out, those boisterous lads.
I'm very okay with not being in Gryffindor.
Really? Any thought in what house you would like to be in? Or what you expect you'll be in.
Ravenclaw.
Ravenclaw?
Yes, Ravenclaw. I have an extreme thirst for knowledge.
Are you sure that it's not because you want to be in the same house as someone else is in?
No. No, I would like to be in Ravenclaw.
Dear, I admire you're trying, but in the future you're going to have to be better at being cunn-
Don't you dare say that word!
-ing. But you do have the skill, and you will do well in-
But I don't belong there! Really, I don't!
You do realize that I know everything you're thinking. Trust the Sorting Hat, you belong there. Anyway, nice sorting you, blah blah blah-
-wait, NO!
"SLYTHERIN!"
It was just as silent as when Harry had had his name called out, as it was after he had been sorted. It only took a few seconds, of course, before Slytherin clapped their slow claps, but Harry felt like they would have rather been skinny dipping in December.
In other words, he felt very unwelcome.
(Exhaustion)
Harry woke up with a gasp, and looked at his watch on his nightstand. 3:46.
With a groan, Harry grabbed at his hair and laid back down. He tried to go back to sleep, because he could already tell that the day before him was going to be a rather tiring one.
Both emotionally and physically.
(The "M" Word)
Hermione found no trouble at all waking up at seven the next morning. She also found no trouble in getting ready and down to breakfast by 7:30, even though most of the castle was still asleep, including her dorm mates.
Looking at all the food in front of her, she was amazed. There was practically every single breakfast dish being served. She licked her lips and reached for some french toast to start her day.
Hermione felt someone take a seat beside her and looked at them with wide eyes. "Harry?" she said, although it was hard to hear through her mouthful of food. He met her eyes and for some odd reason Harry shrugged.
Reaching for some fruit and oatmeal, Hermione noted how healthy that was and weird for an eleven year old boy to be eating, he scooped it onto his plate and pulled out a book.
Feeling Hermione's questioning stare on him he said, "You're better company," and looked back down at his book. She raised her eyes when she saw the title Dark Lords and their Magic. Hermione certainly never thought she'd catch him with a book like that.
Turning back to her breakfast, she watched Harry out of the corner of her eye. Though she thought he probably noticed, she didn't really care. He wasn't very talkative, and when he was Harry was vague.
"Ahem," someone cleared their voice behind them.
"Yes?" Hermione said while slowly turning around, she noticed Harry hadn't heard the person, or at least pretended he didn't.
"Not you, mudblood, him," the blonde boy said, Hermione recognized him as Malfoy.
"Oh," she said, rather confused on what 'mudblood' meant. Hermione figured that that was supposed to be a derogatory term for her, since she had muggle parents.
Malfoy gave her a sneer, the first of many Hermione would come to know, but turned his back on her so he was facing Harry.
"Er, Potter," he said, this time not as cocky. Harry, of course, made no motion as to acknowledge he had hear Malfoy.
"Ay, Malfoy's talking to you," Hermione saw one of Malfoy's friend, who she secretly thought looked like an ogre (except that was an insult to ogres) next to Malfoy, shooting Harry a dirty look.
"Yeah, you should feel honored at him speaking to you," said another of Malfoy's friends.
Hermione was surprised at the behavior. Never had she met someone who felt so... entitled. Never. She was about to open her mouth to say something, but Harry beat her to it.
"What could you possibly want to say to me, Malfoy. I thought I made it perfectly clear to you that I wanted nothing to do with you."
The voice was so cold that Hermione actually shivered. Malfoy and his cronies also seemed to notice the drop in temperature, but the cocky blonde still opened his mouth to reply back.
"Not what I want to say to you, but what I need to say to inform you. You're sitting at the Gryffindor table, if you haven't noticed, you were sorted into Slytherin! Not only that but-" he stopped as he saw Harry narrow his eyes at him.
"I see no importance of where I sit to eat, there's plenty of room, and it's none of your concern," Harry said dismissively, but Malfoy went on as if he hadn't interrupted at all.
"But not only that! You're sitting next to a mudblood! They're foul and vile-"
"Mr. Malfoy!" an appalled voice sounded behind him. He turned around, wide eyes, to see one of their new Professors. Hermione mentally recognized her as the Transfiguration teacher, Professor McGonagall.
"Mr. Malfoy, your words will not be tolerated at Hogwarts. So I suggest you learn to be competent and apologize to Ms. Granger and Mr. Potter for spoiling their breakfast. Also, I would take away ten points, but you do not have any to take away yet. Instead, I'll assign you a detention. Wait a moment, though," McGonagall stopped and pulled out to pieces of parchment and handed them to Harry and Hermione. "Your time tables,' she explained.
"Come along Mr. Malfoy," she said to a sulking Malfoy, but they both walked away. Malfoy's friends, however, stayed and looked confused and unsure.
"You should go follow Malfoy, I'm sure he needs his goons right now," Harry said. It wasn't long before both boys sprinted towards wherever their git of a friend was.
The rest of breakfast didn't go by as exciting as the beginning did.
Harry and Hermione had to part ways that morning, since Hermione's first class was Transfiguration, and Harry's was Potions. They would, however, have History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts together later that day.
(Old Fool)
Harry didn't know what it was about Hermione, but he actually didn't want to strangle her. He also didn't know what it was about himself that had made him gone all... murderous.
It probably was due to the fact he had suffered for eleven years, and no-bloody-body had shown up to help.
Yeah, that may had been it.
He had avoided walking around the corridors after classes were over, and instead was in his dorm doing his homework. Who even gave homework on the first day of classes, anyway?
His dorm mates were Malfoy, his goons, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott. The last two had been fairly quiet to him, so Harry didn't mind them as much. Although, Zabini was someone who liked to make a joke about everything, so Harry didn't know how he could handle that.
Harry had stopped focusing on his Charms homework, when he had heard from a distance the sound of the Hogwarts's bells chiming six times, signaling the start of dinner. At the sound of his stomach growling, he decided to go to dinner.
When he had entered the Great Hall his eyes went straight for a bushy haired girl. After about a minute of scanning the room, he was disappointed to find that he couldn't find her. Harry tried to shrug it off though, and went to the Slytherin table instead to eat.
It had took him ages to find something to eat that wasn't fattening or sugary. Harry knew that his stomach wouldn't have been able to handle foods like that without upsetting him. He had been practically starved his entire life, another thing he could thank the Wizarding World about. When he had had the pleasure of almost finishing his food, a (what he assumed) Prefect came up to him, handing him a note. Curious as who would be writing him a note, Harry read it.
Mr. Potter
Would you please be so kind in joining me for a bit of a chat at seven thirty? You are not in trouble, I'm just curious to how you are adjusting.
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
P.S. I have a rather acquired taste to acid pops.
Wondering what in the bloody hell the old man was talking about and thinking, Harry begrudgingly got up and left the Great Hall, trying to morph his face into a blank mask. Innocent, but blank.
He had only managed a couple steps when he realized he didn't even know where the Headmaster's office was. Cursing silently to himself, he felt something flitter in his pocket. Harry stared questioningly at his pocket until the note he had gotten flew out. Stopping at eye level for Harry, it moved down the hall on his right, and he felt the need to follow it. It would obviously take him to Dumbledore.
Harry followed it for about fifteen minutes, making note of every turn and staircase, before the note stopped in front of two gargoyles with a door in between it. He stared at it, confused, for a minute or two when he got an idea. Pulling the note from the air, he flipped it over and smirked to himself.
"Acid pops," he said to the door, but it was the gargoyles that surprised him as they jumped out of the way. They revealed a staircase that curved elegantly up as it made itself appear. Harry had reached the top, but hesitated when he was about to knock, fist inches above the door.
Harry hadn't even needed to because it open itself magically, and as he walked through it he could see the Headmaster with a cheery smile on his face, along with Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. The latter of the two who seemed to pretend that Harry didn't exist, even in Potions earlier that day. Harry could tell that it wasn't out of arrogance, however, but out of fear. Which Harry certainly felt accomplished about.
"Ah, Mr. Potter. I see you got my message, excellent," Dumbledore said with such a chipper voice that it made Harry very weary. "Please, sit down," the old man continued saying, and Harry chose the chair closest to the door. Dumbledore noticed and frowned a bit, "I assure you, Harry, I don't bite," he said.
"You can never be too careful, Headmaster," Harry said so it would come out as if he were joking. But he was actually very serious.
"Yes, well," Dumbledore said, waving his hands as to dismiss what Harry said. "So, how does it feel to be a Slytherin? Were you surprised to be sorted into that house?" he said, but Harry didn't give him the benefit of an answer as he shrugged. Dumbledore frowned once more.
"Harry, don't feel the need to hide your feelings. And anyways, I was rather surprised to see you be put in Slytherin, I was expecting you to be put in Gryffindor with Ronald Weasley. It must of been something the Sorting Hat said- pray, what did he tell you?"
Harry narrowed his eye and his eyebrows followed. "Excuse me, sir,but considering that the Hat is the one that gets into your head and reads your mind, wouldn't it be confidential information? I certainly don't recall any other person at Hogwarts so far that has retold their sorting-"
"Mr. Potter, respect your Head-" McGonagall said, but Harry cut her off.
"-And who is Ronald Measley? I have no idea what and who you're talking about," Harry finished. He watched Dumbledore raise his eyebrows, looking surprised.
"The Weasleys, they were supposed to be at King's Cross Station. They were supposed to show you how to get onto the platform..." he stopped noticing one of Harry's eyebrows raised.
"Actually, after Hagrid failed to tell me how to get onto the platform, I just sat and waited. Eventually, I saw an all redheaded family go through the barrier, and I realized that that's what I was supposed to do. They made it pretty obvious, though, I don't know much about the Wizarding World, but I can tell you that muggles wouldn't take so kindly at being exposed to it. Maybe you all should learn how to talk in indoor voices and watch your steps," Harry said, giving them all a bored look. They were all silent for minute before Dumbledore said something.
"Yes... well, that would be the Weasleys. They have a boy in your year," he lamely finished off. Again, it was silent. Harry stood up and cleared his throat.
"If you don't mind, I have some homework and reading to get back to. This was a lovely chat, please, don't invite me for another one," he sarcastically said. The Professors and the Headmaster could only watch with wide opened mouths as the eleven year old spawn of satan walked out of the room.
"That certainly did not go as suspected," Dumbledore said, grimacing. He would have to keep an even closer eye on Harry Potter.
~O~
(Dodgebooks)
Fuming, Harry did everything but run down the corridor. Making a quick, sharp turn, he ran into someone and toppled backwards on his butt, as did the other person. Glaring, he pushed himself off the floor and was about to make a dry remark when he realized the other person was Hermione. He quickly went over to her to pull her up, and she scrambled to gather everything that had managed to fall out of her bag.
"Sorry Harry, I didn't expect-" she started off, but was interupted by Harry.
"No, it was my fault. I'm sorry."
Harry talked with such finalization in his voice, that Hermione didn't even bother to argue on whose fault it was.
Instead she said, "So where are you going? You just missed dinner, it ends at eight apparently. It seems a little too early for me, but-" she was again cut off by Harry.
"Why weren't you at dinner," he said harshly.
Hermione was confused, "I was, er, in the library. That's actually where I' m headed now, since curfew isn't until nine. Would you like to join me?" she asked timidly.
Harry shrugged, in all honesty, he was hoping that he would find the library. It would probably even make doing his homework easier, and spending time with Hermione would make it more bearable. So he replied with a nod of his head.
Hermione smiled and started walking in the same direction, Harry by her side. The conversation between them, of course, was almost nonexistent. But Hermione herself talked almost the entire time about how great the library was and every detail about it's history.
When they had reached the library Hermione made it her goal to give him a tour. Unfortunately, Madame Pince stuck her head in one of the aisles they were in to inform them that it was almost curfew and they should probably go back to their dorms. So they left the library and parted at the staircases.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Harry!" Hermione said.
Harry nodded, "You'll be at breakfast, of course, so I'll see you then." With that Harry turned and walked the other way, leaving a slightly amused Hermione behind him.
She hummed to herself as she made her way back to her dormitory, absentmindedly answering the riddle to her Common Room. Hermione made her way to her dorm and did her nightly routine. When she was finished, she picked up a muggle notebook and pencil, before writing.
Thursday, September 2nd
It was strange not being able to write about my day yesterday, as I became accustomed to doing all summer. Mother was right, keeping a journal actually has helped.
Hogwarts has been great so far. I've been sorted into Ravenclaw, the house of the wise! Everyone in this house is very odd, though, something I noticed with all houses. For Ravenclaw we are all fairly smart and have a knack for wanting to learn more. However, I have seen at least five debates in the last twenty-four hours I've been here between different Ravenclaws. We are arguably a strange house, some with temper issues, others who seem crazy and sprout random ideas and facts. I think I'm more of the know-it-all type, which is not really a good thing to call yourself, is it? Well, it's what I heard someone say to me in class today, and I was surprised to realize that I actually wasn't insulted. In fact, I felt complimented.
But I don't know, each house has it's quirks.
I also have made a "friend". His name is Harry. He actually isn't too friendly at all, but I've been keeping close to him and he hasn't seemed to mind. But I guess you could call us friends. Sort of.
I'd talk about my classes and the library- oh the library, how fantastic it was! But I'm fairly tired, probably from exertion from too much excitement, so I think I'd better turn in.
I've enjoyed myself these last two days. It makes me wonder on how great the next seven years will be.
A/N: So what did you think? Honestly, I can take this story in so many different directions and still get the same outcome. I just don't know which one I should take. Should I continue through first year all the way until where the real story starts, which is fourth or fifth year. Or should I skip to fourth or fifth and start the story there, while giving flashbacks ever once in awhile, to fill in gaps. What do you think?
A/N(2): If you've noticed, in parenthesis at the start of each scene is some type of saying. I saw Jewels do it in The Life and Times and I really liked the idea, especially since as an author it adds more humor when writing.
Coming up in Possession...
I am Harry Potter.
At the time, Harry was impressed. Quickly, he figured out that whatever was written in one journal, would show on a page in the other one.
How convenient,he had thought. And he had a good idea of exactly what he was going to do with them.