Hermione Granger is 6 years old when her parents realize that their beloved daughter is somewhat of an oddity - odder than they thought, considering the peculiar events that had been occurring since she was just barely a year old. They had just sat down for dinner to celebrate Robert Granger's upcoming appointment as a professor in one of the top universities when she speaks. "Daddy, when are you planning on becoming the dean?"
Robert blinks at his daughter, then at his wife Emma, then at his daughter again. "Er, I hadn't really thought about it, dear. I didn't think they'd accept me as a professor, after all," he reminds her.
Hermione considers this, slicing into her steak before speaking. "I know you thought that there was only a small chance that they'd hire you, but I always thought you had a decent chance, especially with who the other candidates were." Robert looks touched at this, but she keeps going. "I think it might be possible to be dean within a few years, but it would take a lot of work, and you'd be a lot busier. That's why I thought maybe I could ask about your plans, so that I would know how often Mummy and I will be home alone."
"Sweetie, why do you think I want to be the dean?" Her father finally asks, even more confused. Hermione, for the first time since the conversation started, looks bewildered as well.
"Well, isn't it a step up from professor? It's one of the top positions you can get in the university, isn't it?"
The room is quiet for a few minutes, and Hermione stares at her parents, waiting. Emma finally clears her throat. "Hermione, dear, I think your dad isn't interested in becoming the dean. He'll still be handling some patients from the clinic every week, after all. I'm afraid he won't have the time."
The girl's eyes grow wide, and she pouts as she thinks. "Really? I thought he'd refer all his patients to you over the next month, then start working on becoming the dean in a few years." At her parents' silence and stares, she offers an olive branch. "But I guess it's really Daddy's choice what he wants to do and how he wants to go about it."
They sigh and smile and go back to their dinner, relieved, but none of them really forget the conversation, least of all Hermione. She realizes that night that her parents had found what she said strange, and sets to saying less things like that. Then later on, in grade school, her classmates find her weird, calling her names because of her eagerness to share her knowledge. She starts raising her hands less and blending in more, and by the time she is 10 years old, she has a small group of friends, and all the negative things people had ever said about her have been forgotten by everyone but her. She's just known as the girl with exceedingly curly hair and dark skin. Her teachers are disappointed that she has turned out to be an average student, while her parents, who had been informed at the start of preschool then grade school that their daughter might be gifted, are pleasantly surprised at the turn of events.
Inevitably, this leads to their dismay when they find out that their daughter is actually someone with magic - someone the tall, aging woman calls a witch. While they are glad that she'll be meeting other people like her, they're worried, too. Because as much as their daughter has tried to hide it, they know that she had been bullied back when she had just started school, and even though she is doing well now, what if she has a hard time again in the magical school?
They fret over it constantly but refuse to confront their daughter about it, until one day Hermione says that she's excited about going away to boarding school, trying to mimic how she thinks most Muggle-borns would have reacted. Just as she thinks, this helps them calm down and stop worrying about her.
Months pass, and she makes sure to be enthusiastic whenever they discuss Hogwarts. She is excited, to be sure, but she isn't that excited. After all, she knew that something was missing from a young age, and finding out about magic just confirms it.
The train station is loud and crowded, and she wrinkles her nose as she patiently waits for her parents to stop fussing. Robert and Emma are both teary, and they hug and kiss her several times until it's time to get on the train. She perfunctorily kisses them on their cheeks before stepping up into the train with her things.
The interior of the train is larger than it looks from outside, and most students are walking or running around with purpose, chatting with friends, or finding their way around like her. She tries her best to keep her head down as she makes her way down the train, looking for a free compartment. It takes her ten minutes, but finally there are less students milling around, and she is able to find an empty compartment and sit down. Thankfully, she had thought of bringing a book, and as soon as she is sure she won't be interrupted, she takes it out and starts reading.
Just a bit over an hour later, however, someone knocks on the door before opening it, peeking in. The boy has dark hair and is wearing what she has deduced to be the equivalent of casual clothes in the Muggle world, and he squeaks when he sees her. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again to speak, then closes it again.
"Are you looking for something?" she asks, tilting her head to the side.
He squeaks again and is quiet for a few minutes, so she looks back at her book. She starts when he finally speaks. "M-my toad, Trevor. He's lost." A pause. "I'm, um, Neville, by the way. Neville Longbottom."
She looks at him for a few moments, debating her options, and just when he starts sweating, she snaps her book closed and sets it down on the seat before walking to him. She sticks her hand out, and he stares at it, then blushes when he realizes that she wants to shake his hand. "Hello, Neville. My name is Hermione Jean Granger. I haven't seen your toad, but I could help you ask the other compartments, if you haven't already." He shakes his head at that, reddening even more, and she nods, giving him a small smile. She understands people like him, probably because she was once an outsider and awkward as well.
The two of them are silent as they go from compartment to compartment, with Neville knocking shyly and Hermione speaking. He seems uncomfortable with strangers, but she thinks that he'll have to learn soon anyway, although it's starting to look like a miracle that he had been able to speak to her earlier. They knock at another compartment before gently sliding the door open, and find a group of snooty-looking first-years. Neville freezes behind her, and she slides him a questioning look. He shakes his head minutely, and she nods before focusing on the group. "Hello. I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Neville Longbottom. Have you seen a toad around here?"
The large boys snicker and the doll-like boy smirks, but the blond just looks at them, bored. "No, we haven't. Longbottom, what riffraff are you dealing with?" He looks Hermione up and down condescendingly. "Half-blood, or Mudblood?"
Neville stiffens again, but she touches him lightly on the arm before he can speak. She takes a second to think before answering the boy. "My parents are muggles, so yes, I suppose I am," she says carefully. At this, the blond's lips turn up a bit at the corner, and she returns a demure smile of her own, albeit a fake one. "Thank you very much for answering our inquiries." She waits a beat, and the boy gives an approving grin.
"Nice to meet you, Granger. I'm Draco Malfoy." He pauses. "It's good that you know your place. I advise you to remember it." The other students in the compartment look shocked at this, but she just nods graciously before leaving with Neville, closing the door carefully.
It's not long before they find Trevor, and Neville thanks her profusely despite his conspicuous silence after meeting Malfoy. She suspects he doesn't understand what happened and doesn't really know what to make of her, but she isn't interested in explaining all of her actions to every person she encounters. She smiles at him after his repeated thanks, says something about going back to her compartment and that he's welcome there later if he wants, then leaves.
The rest of the journey is uneventful, and before long, she's in a big, hulking castle along with the other first-years. Malfoy and his cronies don't acknowledge her presence, although Neville gives her a small smile, and the others seem too overwhelmed to make conversation. She watches a boy - Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, they say - from the corner of her eye. He's standing beside another boy, hunched and quiet, and she sees something of interest - a barely noticeable, but fading, bruise on his neck.
Just then, the doors open and they're allowed inside the Great Hall, and she just barely stops herself from inspecting the enchanted ceiling at length. She knows about the history of Hogwarts from her books, but seeing it all is different, and she wants so badly to learn more, but she also knows that she has to watch what she does and says. Her survival depends on it, after all.