N/A: I don't own Harry potter. I only use the author's universe to create my own story. I'm going to follow Alrissa's kick in the arse challenge using Hermione Granger too. She has so much potential! This is my first story, and English is not my mother language, so please be patient!
Enjoy!
When Knowledge Becomes Power
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
October 31st, 1991
6:36 AM
Hermione Granger jumped out of her bed, startled. With an uneven breathing and erratic heartbeat, she closed her eyes to start soothing herself from her sudden wake. When she finally felt better, she couldn't help but be intrigued. Hermione knew she wasn't much of a dream person, so having nightmares was rare for her. In her eyes, the most confusing thing was what happened in the bad dream she just had. It was about her future and, while she wasn't able to recognize anyone in it, she didn't like what she managed to remember at all. She was forced to marry a man she didn't love and had children whose names she didn't even choose because her husband always took all the decisions away from her, and disregarded her opinions. She had a lame job where no one listened to her ideas because the society she lived in treated people like her like shit thanks to centuries and centuries of nonsensical prejudices. The worst part was when she suddenly found herself in the middle of a war which she helped to end with the hope of making the wizarding world a better, less biased place only to face the harsh reality. No one besides her allies recognized her efforts and thanks to that, the same society she put her life in danger for still treated like she was no more than a baby machine that had to be taken care of by a man, i.e. a husband. Just when she was going to lose control over her emotions, the final part of the dream began to form and, oddly enough, she was able to see clearly this time. She was in front of a woman that looked a bit like her, but had scars on her face and a muscular, well defined body that made her look beautiful and deadly at the same time. It was obvious the lady, no the warrior in front of her was someone you don't want to mess with. Hermione watched warily as the tall brunette trained eyes on her and said: "You can change all the things you just witnessed, if you discover where your roots lie and never forget where you come from. I'm going to send you a gift soon. I know you'll use it wisely, but don't stop studying and researching because of it. With time, knowledge becomes power"-
Once the warning was finished, the woman sheathed her heavy sword, a Claymore she had been carrying by her right side but Hermione hadn´t noticed until that moment. The warrior bowed to her, turned around and left at the time she began to wake up.
Hermione spent the rest of the morning pondering on the things the unkown lady had told her about in her nightmare. Although she knew that seeing the future is almost impossible, she had the feeling that what transpired in her mind was more than a simple bad dream, becuase the warning in itself made sense. She has no idea who the mayority of her blood relatives are or used to be, because many of them died in battles a long time ago. Her grandmother was the only survivor of her family. Judging from what she remembered form their talks in her self-defense lessons, she was nine back then and, in order to avenge her fallen loved ones and remember them, the woman who was now her mentor became a warrior herself.
When she was little and asked why she was trained all the time her mother always said that "living the warrior way was family tradition". In her opinion, that was a stupid reason. after all, what chances do you have to be attacked when your paraniod parents don't let you live more than a year in the same place?. Besides, she was now living in Hogwarts, the safest place in the Isles because of its millenial protections and Albus Dumbledore, the only person the late Dark Lord ever feared as headmaster.
Spreading butter in a slice of bread, the little brunette reminiscenced her mother telling her about her great uncles and great grandparents, all of them soldiers that died before or during World War II. She felt dumb because she wasn't able to remember their last name until she also remembered that said last name was foriegn and difficult to pronunciate, even more so than her mother and grandfather's. She knows that asking her grandmum to write it for her isn't a good idea, because if she didn't end up traumatized as a kid in times of war, she sure did when her beloved husband died. If is there something she knows about Samuel Lamperouge is that the man was not a wimpy coward like most French are portrayed to be, at least by the muggles. After all, you can't deny that a man risking his life to distract terrorists long enough for his wife to escape carrying his very pregnant daughter, that then blows up the house and everything inside while he's still there with a hidden, minefield -like bomb to ensure the previously mentioned loved ones aten't followed is brave.
Hermione remembers the day she was told that story very well because that's when she decided never bring him up inconversation again, not for lack of interest but for the sake of the little family she still has. They always cry for him when they think she's asleep or not on the same room, so stop talking about her ancestors seemed a good idea at the time, especially when she found out how upset her mother bacame everytime she asked about any other relative of hers, including her biological father who, she discovered, was not Dr Granger at the tender age of six. Sure, Dan was a great guy, that loves her unconditionally and accepts her dispite her magic, but he wouldn't be able to help her figuring out what the woman on her dream tried to warned her about.
Her musing were suddenly interrupted by an owl landing in front of her with a little box in its beak. She took it, gave the owl a sausage and read the note attached to her small package. It read: Open this when you are alone. To se the contents of the box just tap your wand twice on it. Consider it a delayed birthday present for you. Love, NVKL.
Hermione recognized the handwriting. A lleter when you least excpect it is typical of her, ataching said letters with wierd objects inside is another of her "normal" ways of ordering you around. She watched both sides before tucking the note and the box in her pocket and sighed in relief upon realising that no one notcied she had mail today. The last thing she needed was the staff questioning her if her box has something dangerous or not common for a twelve yera old girl to use.
By thew time the food on the plate was already on her belly, Granger put her doubts about her dream in the back of her mind, focusing on her classes of the day and how to get along with her classmates so they would stop teasing her looks and intelligence. " Maybe if I start helping them more with their homework and classes, they would begin to accept me"- the little witch reasoned. She began to make her way to the Gryffindor Common Room with this thought in mind and knowing that it was too early to fetch her backpack, but deciding that going now was better than doing it in the last possible moment and arrive late like those idiots Potter and Weasley did the other day. Add the fact that she could use the extra hour to try and make conversation with the other early risers before the classes started, and you have a very determined lioness cub going after her goal of the day like a soldier on a mission.