Two chapters in two days! Tell Me Honestly will have the next update, so don't worry about me neglecting that story. This chapter is dedicated to Alix33, thank you for your reviews!
September 4, 1991
It was safe to say that Hermione had never really experienced prejudice before. Sure, there were a lot of petty children teasing her about her appearance, but Hermione could just ignore them. She lived in a small town, where everyone knew each other. Her parents owned the only dentist, and were very well respected. She had grown up in a lovely home, in a popular neighborhood, and a giant public library to which she could escape to anytime one of the girls started being mean.
But at Hogwarts? Hermione had been sneered at just as much as any other first year. She wasn't singled out to her her blood status (no, that was only in the common room), or because of her appearance (which looked like every other Slytherin first year girl, thanks to Daphne and Tracey), but rather, the color of her tie. In Transfiguration, which was shared with the Hufflepuffs, Hermione had overheard Professor McGonagall giving five points to one of the girls for turning their matchstick silver. By the time Professor McGonagall had made her way to the Slytherin side, Hermione was sitting quietly with her fully transformed needle lying on the desk.
"Two points to Slytherin," Professor McGonagall had said.
And if the teachers behaved that way, then what did it say for the students? Gryffindors glared at her in the hallways, Hufflepuffs screamed whenever a Slytherin came near, and even the Ravenclaws would move their books so she couldn't sit next to them in the library. She had seen two redhead Gryffindors ganging up on a small Hufflepuff boy yesterday, and the very same Gryffindors sneaking around the dungeons when she had run back to grab one of her textbooks. According to Daphne, they had a reputation as the school's pranksters. And to think, she was only on the third day of school.
Hermione yawned and sleepily got out of her cozy bed, walking to the bathroom. She turned on the shower and stripped off her pajamas, before stepping in and sighing under the hot water pressure. She could hear noises from the dorm, likely Tracey or Daphne waking up. Pansy refused to wake up a second earlier than necessary, and it seemed Millicent followed along with everything Pansy did.
"Morning," Tracey murdered when she shuffled into the bathroom a few minutes later.
"Good morning," Hermione replied cheerily. She grinned at Daphne, who had yet to say anything and had instead just made her way into the shower area.
"Daph's not a morning person," Tracey whispered to Hermione.
"I heard that!" Daphne yelled, sounding slightly distorted due to the door separating them. Tracey promptly shouted back a rude word.
"Tracey!" Hermione gasped, horrified. The girl just shot her a cheeky grin before reaching out and snatching one of Hermione's lip glosses.
The Hogwarts library was undeniably Hermione's new favorite place on Earth. With rows of neatly stacked books, written about all different areas of magic, Hermione was ready to jump for joy. She had come here straight after classes, ready to start her Transfiguration essay. Professor Flitwick, who was as good as a teacher as the rumors claimed, hadn't given them any homework, but her other teachers had piled it on. In addition to the Transfiguration essay, Hermione had to fill out a chart on different plants for Herbology, read two chapters in her DADA textbook, and she wanted to get a head start on her History of Magic essay, even if it was due in a couple of months. She was going to be the best at magic, no matter what it took.
With that in mind, Hermione set about finding the Transfiguration section, where she plucked a heavy book off the shelves and took it back to her desk. She had just opened the book when someone, or more accurately, two someones, plucked themselves down next to her.
"You need to order your new robes," Daphne announced immediately, covering Hermione's new book with a fashion catalog.
"I'm working," Hermione said. "Can't I do that later?"
"No, you cannot," Daphne said primly. "This is of the utmost importance."
Hermione sighed, turning to face the blonde. "Look, Daphne, I really appreciate you helping me, but I don't really get how new clothes can make people accept me. I'm a muggleborn, and I always will be. And honestly, I don't really care that much about clothes. Isn't learning magic more important?"
Daphne stared at her in shock. "Granger-Hermione," she corrected herself, "you did not grow up in the Pureblood Society as we all did. We have our own rules, our own culture, and we're all really proud of it. Look, if you went to France, would you tell them how to live their life? That just because something is done in England, that's the way it should be done in France?"
"No, of course not!" Hermione exclaimed, affronted. "France is a different country. They have their own laws."
Daphne nodded. "You need to think of the Wizarding World as a new country, then. Pureblood Society, well, you have a really big social advantage if you're accepted into it. It's mostly Slytherins, but even some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and occasionally the odd Gryffindor, follow the Old Ways. Everyone who's everyone is in Society. That's why people take so much pride in blood and heritage. Dumbledore...he and people like the Weasleys want to want to eliminate our Society. They want us to take on muggle culture and all their traditions. Anyone who embraces muggle ways, like the Weasleys, are considered traitors to our heritage and our culture. Even the smallest thing can see you turned away"
"So it's important that I blend in, right?" Hermione asked slowly, absorbing the new information.
"For now, yes," Daphne nodded. "Here, Hermione, I'll make you a deal. The Malfoys throw a Yule Ball every year. It's very selective, and can really give you a leg up if you attend. We go every year because Narcissa is good friends with Mother. If you let me turn you into the perfect Pureblood princess, I guarantee that everyone will be treating you like you belong."
"And if people recognize me as a muggleborn, then you have to let me do what I want," Hermione challenged.
"Deal," Daphne accepted. The two girls shook hands, and Hermione picked up the catalog.
"Where do we begin?"
