Hermione was going to be doing a lot of travelling this year; she would go straight to Scotland as soon as she woke up in the past and spend the morning with her family learning their ancient customs and rituals and working on her ability to channel the sect's magic. They were also devoted to the more mundane martial arts, and she continued to learn to sword fight and use a bow. In the afternoons she would learn from either Anneken or Lady Grindelwald; politics, ethics, international relations, manners and customs, fashion... everything the two women believed a powerful young matriarch would need to know. She was already dreading the commencement of their lessons in a weeks time - to allow her to settle in at Hogwarts first.

She woke exactly on time in her new, dark bed with it's long emerald curtains. The windows looked straight out into the lake which glowed green in the daylight, providing a view of large fish that meandered past in search of breakfast. She had the best bed in the whole long, rectangular room, right between two of the windows and not, like the only other bed between two windows, next to the bathroom. It meant that there was some measure of natural light shining on her desk, and that she wouldn't be disturbed by the girls in the bathroom.

She braided her hair in one of her favourite styles, using a green ribbon to match the new green trim on her uniform and left the room before any of the other girls had even finished in the bathroom.

They had been instructed to wait for the prefects in the common room and although she'd woken up early, she was by no means the first to arrive. Malfoy and his cronies were already there, as was Nott, still watching her with that strange, silent interest. They seemed to have decided to hold her at a cautious distance for now, perhaps wary of her surname but not yet respecting her for it. She had to remind herself of Petrovna's betrothed and how even though he'd forced politeness for the international system's sake, he'd never managed to get past her muggle parents. Perhaps they still didn't believe in her Gorlois ancestry, even if they were wary of the Grindelwald sponsorship?

Once everyone was gathered, they were led to the hall like a flock of ducklings, winding up through the cool dungeons and emerging into the brightly lit hall. The ceiling suggested the day would be very warm, the sky already clear and blue. At the long tables, students were already gathered and she noticed a definite deficit of first years among he Gryffindors. Perhaps nobody had bothered to show them the way and they'd all gotten lost.

As they were eating, their head of house handed out timetables. He was a slimy looking man with a hooked nose and great, billowing cloak. According to the other Slytherins, he taught potions and favoured them, which was a good thing because they had a double lesson on Fridays with the Gryffindors whom he hated.

Her first lesson was Herbology with the Ravenclaws. It took place in the greenhouses and the directions given to them by the prefect were relatively simple so they all arrived with plenty of time to spare. She noticed with some envy that one of the Ravenclaws had a map and they rolled it up as the Slytherins approached. Maybe she could see if her copy of Hogwarts: A history was among the belongings salvaged from Blau Berg and copy out her own map.

Professor Sprout taught Herbology. The other Slytherins turned their nose up at her, which Hermione thought rather shallow. She didn't wear particularly fashionable clothes and she was more mothering than sage but Hermione could tell immediately that she was an accomplished herbologist and a better than average witch. They didn't actually learn much as the lesson was spent being shown around the greenhouses and being shown where to find supplies such as fertiliser, potting soil, pots, shears and secateurs.

Their next lesson was charms, taught by a half-goblin duelling champion. They followed the directions given to them by Professor Sprout, moving as a large group up through the many staircases and doorways. The castle was horrifically impractical for everyday use, although at least it would be difficult to take in battle; there were doors that required passwords, staircases that moved and corridors that appeared much longer than they actually were. If she'd designed it, she would have made it so that those defences had to be activated by a certain spell when required. Then again, the entire building hummed with magic in a way that suggested an almost-sentience. Perhaps, it hadn't been build like this to begin with but had developed quirks as it absorbed the errant magic of so many untrained wixen.

Professor Flitwick didn't teach them magic either, instead giving them an incredibly tricky lesson on Latin pronunciation. Hermione, who could probably count the number of times she'd actually bothered with an incantation, found the lesson fascinating. She did, perhaps, take more from the lesson than her peers because of the solid foundation she'd received in the subject, as she was still mulling over the intricacies of tense and declination in spellwork as Parkinson, the girl with the nose like a pug, moaned that she'd been looking forwards to casting her first spell.

'What do you mean, your first spell?' Hermione demanded, drawn up short by surprise.

'Well, I've done accidental magic of course.' Pansy replied quickly. 'But I meant my first one with a wand.'

'You mean, you've never done magic with a wand before?' Hermione asked incredulously. 'I thought you were from a wizarding family.'

'Of course I am.' The witch sneered.

'What about your tutors? What did you learn?' Hermione asked, uncomprehending.

'They taught me everything I need to know to come to Hogwarts, of course. Manners, politics, genealogy, reading, writing.' She flicked her hair smugly. 'Your's clearly didn't do a good job of the writing, I've seen the chicken scratches you use for note taking.'

'That's Ogham.' Hermione replied coldly. 'It's a Celtic runic language, my tutors recommended I write in it to increase my fluency. Your's were perhaps the ones to fail if you're producing your first magic in school.'

She flounced off without waiting for a reply, beginning to suspect that she really might be unique in her knowledge of magic before school.

It was because of this that she ended up running into a very lost Harry who was attempting to find his way to the great hall from transfiguration. He called out from the far end of the corridor, having somehow managed to end up higher up in the castle than he'd started.

Harry was incredibly glad to hear that she knew exactly where she was going to get to the hall, having passed it on her way up to Charms from Herbology.

'It doesn't make it any easier that they all keep stopping and staring at me.' Harry moaned as yet another group of students huddled in front of a doorway they needed to take to discuss his scar.

'You'll get used to it.' Hermione assured him. She'd managed to at least, although the sudden notoriety that came from being a Grindelwald had been shocking at first, she had soon become accustomed to it. 'They'll grow bored soon enough too. Once they've all had a good goggle, they'll find something else to whisper about.'

'I hope so.' Harry looked around worriedly. Then, he changed the subject to their houses. Gryffindor tower was apparently one of the tallest rooms in the castle and it was very warm and cosy. He shared with several other boys; Ron Weasley was his friend, even if he did seem to hate all Slytherins. He told her that apologetically but Hermione just waved it away carelessly. If there was one family she wasn't overly concerned with cultivating, it was the Weasleys. Ancient they may be, but they had a long history of mediocrity. There were brighter jewels she would need in her crown to achieve what she meant to.

'What's McGonagall like?' Hermione asked after a moment.

'Really strict, but I couldn't get my matchstick to turn into a needle at all.'

'Oh, I struggled with transfiguration when I first started too. Charms are much easier.'

'Really?' Harry asked, interested.

'Charms needs a lot less intent, but a bit more creativity. My first spell was a summoning charm, but it took me six months to get my first transfiguration, and thats only because my brother showed me exactly how to do it.'

'Wow. I wish I'd had a brother to teach me magic. I don't know anything.'

'I don't think anyone does. Lady Grindelwald was quite old fashioned in my education.' She said with a wry smile.

'Really? I think its mental that someone like Ron has been around magic all his life and still knows nothing.' Both of them shook their heads.

'Tell you what, are you hungry?' Hermione asked quickly. Harry, hesitated, then shrugged and followed her through a side door which luckily led into an unused looking classroom. Hermione cleared some space in the middle of the room, dragging a desk out of the way, then sitting on to floor with her legs crossed. Harry dropped down opposite her.

'Okay, what spell do you want to learn first?' She asked. Harry hesitated, obviously thinking.

'Can you tach me to make a light like you did by the boats?' He finally asked and she grinned at him.

'Of course. You'll need your wand to start with, but its better if you learn without a wand otherwise you'll start to rely on it too much.'

Harry rummaged in his bag and pulled out his wand whilst Hermione did the same. Slowly, she taught him the incantation and wand movement, allowing him to mirror her until he had each one exactly right. To her pleasure, the boy didn't shirk away from the work involved and rose to her exacting standards with little complaint. He wasn't anything like Gellert; he was quiet and shy, understated perhaps. He was certainly powerful, not quite as strong as her or Gellert but definitely not far behind and he would have been an easy match for Berg.

Then she lit the end of her own wand and let him inspect it closely, she began to ask Harry about light. Confused, but happy to comply, Harry answered her questions. The light was cool, slightly greenish, incorporeal and centred slightly above the tip of her wand.

Then, she told him to pick up his wand and perform the spell. She got the first hint of impatience when he grabbed his wand. He hesitated only briefly, enough time for her to mutter a reassurance and remind him about viciousness and intent, then he cast the spell with a bellow. His wand lit brightly, illuminating the room in a blinding flash of light. For a moment, he stared at his own wand, seeming surprised. Then he laughed and cheered. Hermione applauded with him.

'Now, this bit is really important.' Hermione said quietly. 'Can you feel your magic? It's inside you, running along your arm and into your wand.'

'No?' Harry asked doubtfully.

'That's okay, we'll work on it. Once you find it, you should try to do all your magic wandlessly. Lady Grindelwald believes that using a wand weakens our connection with out magic.'

A bell rung, interrupting them before they could do any more. Harry was lucky enough to have the afternoon off but Hermione had History of Magic. Harry had already had that lesson and he assured her it was mind numbingly boring, unless she found the Goblin Rebellions particularly fascinating. Hermione did but not for the reason she was certain Harry expected. She bid him goodbye, promising to try to catch up again the next day to work on finding his magical core.

She finished up her day with Transfiguration and as Harry had said, they were meant to be turning a matchstick into a needle. McGonagall have them a stern lecture on how transfiguration was a difficult subject, then with no more guidance than a group repetition of the words and wand movement, set them to work. They lined up to pick up a box of matches from her desk, Hermione falling in at the back when Pansy Parkinson barged in front of her.

'Professor?' Hermione asked, as soon as she reached the desk.

'Yes, Miss Gorlois?' McGonagall looked at her with her characteristically sharp expression.

'I've already covered this transfiguration with my tutors.' Hermione informed her, voice pitched low enough to not disturb her classmates. Whilst Hermione understood that the purpose of receiving a head start in her education was to free her up to network during school, but when nobody else was educated enough to make networking during classes a possibility it seemed better to dedicate her time to learning.

'Have you now?' McGonagall raised an eyebrow and Hermione nodded. She tapped the box of matches twice with her index finger, sending her magic through it and caressing the matches, drawing them into a sharp points and hardening the wood into metal. Her magic obeyed her commands flawlessly and when she picked up the box to pass it to the transfiguration teacher, it weighed twice as much.

McGonagall slid it open and her eyebrows shot up into her hairline as she took in the fifty perfect needles within.

'This is very impressive magic, Miss Gorlois.' McGonagall praised, and Hermione noticed the older witch simply couldn't keep the admiration out of her voice. 'Are you able to recreate the effect with a wand?'

'Yes.' Hermione said, wrinkling her nose. 'But I'd rather not. I feel rather detached from my magic when I use wizardry.'

'Very well. Let me see, perhaps you could spend the lesson copying down what magic you have covered, and I can speak with Professor Dumbledore to create a curriculum for you to study independently.' McGonagall suggested. Hermione gave her one of her best blinding smiles and bounced back to her desk, pulling out a sheet of parchment and throwing her mind back to her earliest lessons in Blau Berg.