A/N 2021: I originally wrote this story in 2004 before the books were completed. There were no horcruxes, and OotP hadn't even been released yet. Needless to say, this story is an AU story, inspired by the 2004 movie A Cinderella Story. My biggest takeaway from revising this? Inventing a believable step-family for Hermione Granger is difficult. No horcruxes, not HBP or DH compatible. I was able to make it OotP compliant. Go me!

Chapter One
(Quiet and Solitary)

It was August 31st and there was just one more day before she was off for her sixth year at Hogwarts. Unlike the majority of her fellow students, Hermione couldn't wait for the holidays to end and school to begin. After another horrible summer with her foster family she was more than happy to escape back to Hogwarts and the magical world, despite the looming war.

Three years already passed since her parents had died in a car accident. Without a family and facing the shock of such unexpected loss, Hermione was initially grateful when the Ministry of Magic stepped in and offered assistance through one of their lesser-known programs that included housing orphans of the wizarding world.

And so after her third year of Hogwarts Hermione Granger found herself in custody of the Greengrass Estate. The irony was not lost on her that at the end of their third year Harry had lost the hope of living with his godfather and became re-orphaned (for a lack of better terms)… and Hermione herself was simultaneously facing similar unexpected difficulties in her own life.

When she first approached the luxurious manor she recalled feeling determined to have an open mind. She knew there was an array of pureblood families, all with different attitudes towards Muggleborns. She'd been welcome into the Weasley family with open arms, for instance. So she tried not to have any biases, despite knowing that her classmate Daphne Greengrass was in Slytherin.

She tried. She really tried.

But it took all of one day for her to realize that this pureblood family was a far cry from warm and welcoming.

Immediately she was sent to the attic, led by a house-elf: it was her first experience with one aside from Dobby, who she now realized was eccentric for an elf. The first day she met Mitzy the Elf was the day her passion for house elf rights was born.

The attic was dusty and full of cobwebs. There were crates and trunks filled with long-forgotten heirlooms, draped with sheets.

"I is told not to clean this room," Mitzy looked sorry that she had to deliver the news. "I is asking to do it for our new guest, but Madam insists you clean on your own. But I will teach you, Miss!"

And their friendship was born. Mitzy was genuinely the only being she spoke to for a week, insisting that Madam Greengrass instructed her to allow Hermione to settle in on her own.

And so she did. She got used to the solitude. She got used to the quiet. She even slowly got used to the lack of sunlight in her attic room. She cleaned, she organized her things, and she explored the house under Mitzy's watchful eye – because there were many places she was not allowed to go.

The first time she truly met Madam Greengrass, as more than a passing glance, was for afternoon tea nearly two weeks after arriving. She was led down two flights of stairs and outside to a wonderful little greenhouse that had a sitting area decorated elegantly, ready for guests at any time.

The look on Madam Greengrass's face had Hermione feeling even more miserable than the two weeks of solitude had caused.

"You." And the habit was born. Never would Madam Greengrass ever use her name. Hermione was known as "you", with a sneer along with it.

"You will keep like company." She eyed Mitzy warily. "You have a room – a room you are not to leave when it is locked. The door will automatically lock when we are hosting guests. You are to assist the elves whenever told. You are to stay quiet. You are not to leave the grounds. You are never to speak of your living arrangements outside of my home. If anyone asks about your living arrangements you will lie or not answer."

"I-I don't think this is how I'm-,"

"There are standards we must uphold as your guardians," Madam Greengrass proved right then and there to be sharp. "If harm comes to you, the ministry is alerted. Aside from that, there are no requirements for how we must conduct our business with you. And we are choosing to conduct it quietly. No need to bother us with your thoughts."

Quiet became her new life; quiet and solitary, save for Mitzy.

After three years of trial-and-error Hermione learned what to say and what not to say to her foster family. She knew where she was and was not allowed… an unfortunate lesson that was learned by not seeing daylight for nearly four days.

Daphne and Astoria were aloof and cold, but hardly a bother in comparison to their mother, who could pass as Voldemort's right-hand woman. As the years pressed on Hermione wondered if Madam Greengrass was one of Voldemort's right-hand women. She tried to investigate, naturally, but even with extendable ears the wards wouldn't allow Hermione any access outside of her room when guests were in the house.

Master Greengrass was terrifying. Hermione was lucky to say that she had crossed paths with him only a few time – none of which were pleasant. He glowered, he called her a mudblood, and on one occasion he told her that she was better off dead than cleaning the floors of his home.

Due to the enchantments, Hermione's personal Hell remained a secret. When she arrived at King's Cross for her fourth year and attempted to tell Harry and Ron about any part of her summer, the words refused to form. With some kind of modified tongue-tying charm, she was silenced. She took to the library immediately when she arrived back at school and soaked up every bit of information she could about magical foster procedures.

Every conclusion was the same: magical contracts were binding, and she had signed hers willing.

Daphne and Astoria never spoke a word to her at school. They carried on as strangers from another house. Hermione wondered if they were under similar enchantments as her, or if they were just mortified to admit she was basically a servant squatting their home. Hermione wished they would make fun of her, or tell Malfoy so he would make fun of her, or anyone: maybe if someone knew rumors would spread and she could could get out of her situation.

Hermione remembered signing the parchment when Ministry Official appeared in her home the same day the Muggle police officer left, telling her the accidental had been fatal and she was now an orphan. She had grabbed the offered quill and signed the document that would make her a participant in the ministry program, thinking at the time that it was the only lifeline she had. Her grief and shock had clouded her judgment and she made an error that could not be undone until she was of age.

So she did the only thing she could: research and carry on. Luckily it was only for the few summer months that she had to face the reality of her life. When she was at Hogwarts or visiting the Burrow it was almost as if nothing happened at all. She could pretend she would see her parents soon. She could pretend they were still alive: she had to pretend.

So Hermione thrived. She faced every personal challenge alone, grieved alone, and slowly accepted her new life alone.

Until one day at the end of fifth year when she found a friend in the most unlikely of places.

That place was a book. A book littered with notes and theories in the margin: a book full of ideas and intelligence.

On her way out of the library she spotted the book on the floor, haphazardly discarded by what she had assumed was a lazy student who couldn't be bothered to shelve the book.

She had tutted when she bent to pick it up, intending to place it on the return rack, when she noticed the bookmarks. Small scraps of paper protruded from too many pages to count. When she opened the book she found tiny, neat scrawl along the margins with personal additions and ideas about different passages. The most fascinating bit was that the notes themselves moved when she flipped the pages, charmed to annotate similar topics.

It was a brilliant bit of magic and something she knew she had to learn for herself.

She flipped the book on its back to read the title: A History of Theories. After reading the preface (and the notes included) she gathered it was a book about origin of magic. Needless to say, Hermione was more than intrigued. Scrawled on the bottom corner of the cover was a pseudonym: M. Nomadic.

She contemplated if an owl would be able to find the owner of this book by addressing it to the pseudonym. It was a tricky question and, she believed, came down to ownership and titles. It was the last week of classes and she was still preparing for two of her O.W.L.s, and she needed to get some rest but…

The book was calling to her. She sighed and headed to the Legal section to find more information about owl post. Hedwig was able to deliver messages to Sirius using the title "Snuffles", and Hermione was sure she could figure this out. She sighed and looked down at the book in her hand. At the very least she could return this to its owner and possibly get a useful spell out of it.

It ended up that Hermione gained more than just a spell: she managed to make a new friend.

Her first letter was brisk and polite. She inquired about the spell and made a few sparse comments about the notes in the book. Because, naturally, Hermione read the book from cover-to-cover before returning it to its owner. On a whim, she decided to sign off with her own alias: Anchoress. She figured it was an interesting play on the religious word for a recluse; although not particularly religious herself it seemed a fitting salutation while sitting in her attic room alone.

A week after she returned the book using one of the Greengrass's many owls she received a reply filled with words of thanks and probing questions about her opinion on the historical theories. Hermione was happy to engage in the intellectual conversation and soon found herself in a weekly routine of exchanging letters and book recommendations.

As they continued to write to one another she learned plenty about him… firstly, that he was, indeed, a him. She had assumed the M in his nickname stood for Mr or Miss. He was kind, intelligent, funny, and charming. It was an unspoken agreement after the first few exchanges that they would keep their identities a secret. Without the burden of her name and popularity (through Harry, she admitted), it was a relief to talk to someone without preconceived notions of her.

She found it easy to confide in him and, to her genuine surprise, discovered that she was able to write to him the truth about her parents and current living situation, so long as the names were left out. They ended up confiding in one another. He was facing a great deal of pressure at home and it was weighing on him heavily. He confessed that their letters gave him a similar sense of freedom that he hadn't experienced in year. Soon, although she'd never met him face-to-face (knowingly, at least), she felt as if she had known him for years. Deciphering his handwriting became second nature, she could tell his mood based on the word choices and the ease in which he wrote on some days, versus the agitation on others.

Their knowledge about one another didn't hit a wall until the more general topics surfaced. Things such as their school houses, names, and physical appearances were all unmentionables. She still didn't know which year he was in exactly, only that he was "above fourth year," which suited her just fine.

As it stood now, on the final day before leaving the Greengrass manor before her sixth year, she could easily say the past summer was the best she had since her parents died and it was thanks to her newest friend. Not being able to speak the truth was a weight she knew she had been baring, but she hadn't realized how heavy it was until she was able to speak freely.

She was leaving the manor, for the first time, free of a new layer of lies. She may not be able to tell Harry and Ron, but she was able to tell someone and that, to her, was everything.

On the morning of September 1st Hermione woke up to a familiar hoot of an owl carrying a plainly sealed envelope. Surprised by the note, she got out of bed happily and received the letter with a smile on her face. She removed a few owl treats and fed them kindly to the owl that had waited so patiently. He hooted in thanks and Hermione smiled as it took flight.

Turning back to the letter, Hermione opened the envelope with anticipation.

Anchoress,

Today's the day – back to school. I thought I would surprise you and send a final 'good morning' before we were back in our dormitories and surrounded by our meddling friends (well, mine are at least). I can't say I'm disappointed to be leaving home, with how much pressure I've been under this summer. I love my parents, but they can be overbearing and demanding. There have been a lot of expectations and, you know by now, if I told them I wanted to be a Source-Magic Researcher they'd probably laugh in my face. But I digress...

I hope that the last days of your summer have gone well. Just a few more hours and you'll be away from your host family. Don't do anything reckless, it would be a loss to not have you at Hogwarts, even if I don't know who you actually are.

See you soon, whether I know it or not.

Nomadic

Hermione smiled. It was interesting how anonymity could allow her to open up about certain things. The divulging in secrets wasn't one-sided, luckily. The tension they each felt in their homes ended up being one of the many things they had in common and bonded over. She grabbed a quill off the desk and contemplated her reply.

Nomadic,

Thank you for the letter, it made this morning even better knowing I had a note from you.

I'm sorry you're facing that pressure from your parents. I can't say mine were they same. Although they both had the same career, they always encouraged me to pursue my dreams and be myself. But now… my only dream is to get out of this place and face what's coming. Next summer will be my last in this trap and I will be free, like my parents always wanted.

Hogwarts is an escape for both of us and I'm glad I have you to understand and share that sentiment. One of my best friends is in a similar spot as us; its a wonder there isn't a club for us all yet!

Not to get sentimental but… Nomadic, I want to say thank you for becoming my friend and a wonderful companion this summer. Usually I'm confined to my room alone with only a house-elf to talk to. You are a great friend and I hope we can continue our friendship – perhaps in person one day.

See you later (maybe).

Anchoress

Hermione reread the note and tucked it into her school bag. She would send it with one of the school owls after the welcoming feast. She leaned back in her desk chair called for Mitzy, and together they enjoyed her last breakfast at the manor, a tradition that started since she first arrived at the manor.

Hermione could only hope that the upcoming year brought as much joy and relief as the summer did.