Things you will need to know about this fiction:
1) This is AU: meaning Alternate Universe. This follows all the books up to Goblet Of Fire.2) Order of the Phoenix is followed up except Sirius is alive. Harry checks the mirror to talk to Sirius and when Sirius is there, they delay the visit to the Department of Mystery and they figure out Voldemort was playing with his head.
3) Harry is still shown the prophesy by Dumbledore, and while he doesn't destroy the Headmaster's office, he is still feeling betrayed.
4) Half-Blooded Prince is not followed. Dumbledore is alive and this starts off when they are in school.
Prologue
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Location: Hogwarts
Hermione Granger was known as the Smartest Witch of Her Year. Some prophesied that she would become the Smartest Witch of Her Age when she grew up. Teachers loved her and students looked up to her academically if not socially. She was the pinnacle of Standard Knowledge.
As Hagrid the Grounds Keeper once said, " They haven't come up with a charm our little Hermione can't do."
Hermione Granger was seen as a close friend with Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, and Ronald Weasley. The three of them have been known to get into trouble together and have foiled Dark Lord's plans when the adults couldn't.
Hermione Granger was a member of the Gryffindor House in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, known for their courage and brashness.
Hermione Granger was top of her class in every subject she took and there wasn't one she couldn't master except, according to rumor, Divination. It was famous among the school staff and students, the tale of one Miss Granger walking out of Professor Trelawney's class that time years ago, proclaiming it as rubbish.
Hermione Granger was one third of the Golden Trio, as the Wizarding folks around dub her and her two friends, the smart and logical third, famous for saving the Wizarding world at least one a year.
Hermione Granger was a Seventh Year, her last year of schooling at Hogwarts and 17 years of age.
Hermione Granger was in Potions where she was cutting up the lacewings to slithers and waiting the cauldron to boil before adding them, when the feeling came upon her.
" I hate this, I hate this, I hate this." Ron muttered under his breath as he grinded the viper tooth to power beside her.
" Buck up mate." Harry said in a low voice to encourage him. " It's only another half hour till lunch."
The redhead glared. Hermione looked over at him and sighed. The rash was slowly, but surely, spreading up his arm. The lanky boy was apparently allergic to the yellow butterweed root they had added earlier to the potion. None of them had known, the red haired boy having never been in contact with the plant before, but since the reaction wasn't serious, Professor Snape had pretended not to notice and refused to send the Gryffindor to the infirmary.
Professor Snape was mean like that.
She sent one more worried look at the red haired friend before the tingling rushed over her. It started like a small itch but she knew what was going to happen. A second later she gripped the table edge tightly with her hands, knuckles white and bowed her head so that her hair obscured her face. It looked as if she was reading the instructions on the page and a moment later her body gave a small tremble, but then stilled.
When the feeling left her and she was able to think clearly again, her face was pale and her lips stood a startling red against her skin. Her eyes shone bright amber and she forced her knuckle-white grip off the table.
Her hand shot up in the air and Harry and Ron looked at her from the corner of their eyes curious while she heard the steps of Professor Snape coming over.
" What is it?" The potions professor questioned surly.
" May I go to the lavatories?" she asked, face still pointed downwards, voice coming a bit muffled from under the hair.
She felt like she was going to puke.
Professor Snape raised an eyebrow but she said nothing else. He waited a few moments before nodding curtly. It was almost the end of class anyways.
" I'll take your books for you." Harry told her, hand brushing against her shoulders as their professor walked away.
Ron nodded while absently scratching at the rash. " We'll be stopping by the Hospital Wing."
She nodded and walked out of the room quickly. Once out in the hall, she headed for the one place where she knew would be empty. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She pushed off quickly into a sprint once she was clear of the dungeons and ran up the staircases, turning corners without stopping until she burst in through the door of her destination.
" Who's there!" Myrtle came flying out of the second stall. " Who dares inter-oh. It's just you."
" Leave me alone." She croaked, her voice raspy and Myrtle gasped hurt, and then flew away with a whirl.
She didn't know where the ghost had gone flying to, but she didn't care. Without another pause she skittered over to the wall and dropped when she reached the corner. Then she crawled underneath the sinks, a tight fit now that she was so much older than her First Year self, but she managed. Then she drew up into a ball, knees tucked under her chin and hands on her face.
She gave one choked sob before all became quiet and her shoulders shook and her body broke out in shivers.
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Location: Unknown (Past)
She had always hated loneliness, as a child she had done everything she could to keep the feeling away. Begged the adults to stay, talked to imaginary friends, danced and tried to see an audience in her mind. Anything.
But then she began to love the times she was alone, because then no one expected anything of her, because then she could think of her own future, because then she was left alone.
Alone but not lonely, hard to be when you are but five years old.
They always wanted to play, the people that surrounded her, they never left her alone during the times she wanted to be alone, and they were never around when she was lonely, it soon became too much. The line between being alone and lonely blurred and thinned until it mingled with the two, and drove her to love the loneliness of being alone.
As she grew older into the fifth and sixth year of life, they left her alone more and more often each day. She knew it wasn't because of them not liking her, but simply because the people around her decreased. She never knew where they went, they were there one day and gone the next.
Soon only one was left with her, but she hadn't really cared. They never made sense to her anyways, one child among a group of adults - what was there to understand?
But she had understood them, if not their words than their ways. She understood if she was to do this, they would do that, and if she were to do that, then they would do this. Everything was amazing to a child's mind.
Even the sight of the lonely adult's body dangling from a rope attached to the ceiling.
She was taken each day after breakfast to another room other than the one she stayed with the group of adults, and people of ages both young and old would come and speak to her, teach her, listen to her.
She would return at night back to the room filled with adults and she would count them and find out how many had left that day. Sometimes none, sometimes up to the number of five.
It had never made any matter to her and when the people that taught her tried to explain to her that the last adult died in suicide because of loneliness, she had simply shrugged and asked them to get on with the lesson.
She hadn't known what to make of the face they gave her, but neither the less they still got on with the lesson, and that was all that mattered. A day later she was moved from her room to another.
And met for the first time people of her own age.
The day after that, on their seventh birthday, they were given names.
Names.
A name.
It had been a foreign concept to them all.
A name.
Acknowledgement of their existence.
A worth.
Yet at that time, it meant nothing to them.
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