September rolled around quickly for the occupants of the Granger Household, the pride following their day in Daigon ally had not lasted, another argument shook the walls within just a mater of days. Hermione, curled up by the large window in her bedroom, had heard most of it, though she didn't really care. The book in her hands, Hogwarts: A History, was far more interesting than whether or not her adoptive father was sleeping with his assistant. She had managed to read the entire volume in the first few days, it was the most interesting thing yet. At eleven years of age Hermione knew herself pretty well, she was resilient and calculating and did not want friends whom she deemed below her, however after reading about the world she was to enter she quickly realised she may be at the bottom of the pile, a muggleborn, how embarrassing. Her wand sat next to her, after that fateful day Hermione couldn't wait to start practising. The woman, McGonagall had told her that students were not allowed to practise magic at home, it had not stopped her. The piece of wood ever so slightly curved with vines carved almost to the very top felt so good in her hands. Warm and comforting.
Outside the fairly ordinary house, just out of view from the young witch's window stood one of the most powerful wizards of all time, watching Hermione as she used her wand to make objects float around her room. Such power at such a young age. Next to the wizard sat a tabby cat staring in the same direction.
"She cannot be allowed to know what happened Minerva, do you understand, we need her." The man spoke, his voice soft but stern.
The cat continued to stare at the witch who was currently floating a copy of one of the first-year charms books in front of her face. A crackle of energy radiating from the young witch.
A few days later Hermione Granger found herself on the bright red Hogwarts express, she had a carriage to herself.
"Thank god" The young witch thought to herself. The ride to Scotland would be a long one and she was looking forward to finally being alone knowing that the next few months would be filled with hundreds of people around. Before the train arrived, Hermione changed into her black robes wondering what house she would be in by the end of the night.
Moments later a boy also dressed in black robes came crashing through the compartment doors.
"I-I-I'm sorry have you seen a toad. Big, Green-ish. Trevor" The boy rushed to say not looking Hermione in the eyes.
"I'm afraid not, would you like some help" Hermione said through gritted teeth, well, she thought to herself, I have to be nice sometimes.
The two young students walked up and down asking people if they had seen Trever the Toad, earning a few bland responses, a couple of nasty hexes and catching one or two older students in compromising positions. Hermione smiled as she saw the boy grow red with frustration. He rambled about how his gran would kill him, all Hermione could think was who brings a toad to a school of magic.
The last compartment she checked provided the most entertainment on the ride. Two boys, both scruffy and surrounded by what looked to be an entire corner shops worth of sweets where sat, about to practise some magic.
"Let's see then" Hermione said to the ginger boy holding on to a rat and what looked like a wand that had been through some things. Rolling her eyes as the boy fumbled over the spell.
"I've been practising, here let me help you." She continued this time talking to the brown-haired boy, he went cross-eyed as pointed her wand to his eyes. His once broken glasses mending themselves when she saw the scar. Hermione had read all about the "boy who lived" in more than one of her books for school, she never thought he would be starting with her, or that he would look so dishevelled and unkempt. An odd energy filled the room as Hermione struggled to understand how someone so pathetic looking could have defeated such a powerful wizard as a baby. As she left to go make sure the bumbling idiot she was helping hadn't got hexed too badly she thought to herself, there must have been some mistake.
Leaving the train in a sea of new faces, Hermione felt an emotion not usually felt by the young witch, fear. The nagging sensation that something was not right followed her all the way to the castle, until she was outside the great hall. The uneasy feeling intensified as McGonagall led the group of young students into the grand room. The group of eleven-year old's taking in their mystical surroundings for the first time, except Hermione, she had read all about the great hall and the spells that were used on it to make the ceiling seem as it was the sky and the presence of ghosts and ghouls floating across the four neatly arranged tables. She was more focused on the striking blue eyes of the headmaster, sitting on his throne-like chair behind a stool where an old looking hat was placed. Amid the Oos and aas of her fellow students Hermione noticed that the blue eyes could only be that of Dumbledore, he was staring straight at her and the intensity of fear grew. So much so that she nearly missed the instructions being read out by McGonagall.
Student by student sat upon the stool, the sorting hat placed upon their heads, each house clapping and cheering as the hat pronounced where they would spend the next seven years. After what felt like a lifetime Hermione was called up.
"Very interesting, just what to do with you." A deep voice sounded in her head. She knew this voice, it was the sorting hat, but no one else had heard it.
"Never Gryffindor too much ambition, nor Hufflepuff. Your father would have you seen in Slytherin but oh no not yet. Better be, Ravenclaw." The table of blue and bronze cheered politely as Hermione walked slowly to a free space near the end.
Up next was the famous Harry Potter, this seemed to distract the old wizard who had been staring at the girl since she walked in . The boy seemed to be up there forever; Hermione couldn't help but wonder.
"Was I up there that long?" the girl asked an older looking student. Only to be met with a short gruff,
"Longer."
The hat finally spoke again. The Gryffindor table began to cheer and jump as if they had just won the lottery.
At the end of the sorting the tables produced a feast fit for at least triple the students in attendance. But Hermione wasn't hungry. Looking down the table seeing everyone dressed in bronze and blue she pondered. What had the sorting hat meant about her father? Why could she not be sorted into Slytherin? And why had the Headmaster been staring so intensely?
The Feast came to an end as prefects led the students to their common room. Whilst in there Hermione got a better chance to see who she had been sorted with, bookworms. She could have rolled her eyes. The prefects drawled on and on about the expectations of being in Ravenclaw, to keep their heads down and stay out of fights. It was nearing midnight when the first years finally made their ways up to their rooms.
Hermione would be sharing with three other girls, all too quiet and aloof to make introductions. As she closed the deep blue curtains around her area, she noticed all her belongings had been arranged, and a strange letter sat neatly on the fresh new pillow. Double checking that she was alone Hermione cracked open the black and green swirled wax seal.
Dearest Hermione,
It has come to our attention that you have been sorted into Ravenclaw, do not fret little one you should be proud.
To assist in your studies, we have left some books for you to read in your wardrobe. Do not let your classmates see them. This is our treat to you.
May you find a greater breadth of knowledge in the books we provide.
Look out for our letters.
Yours,
Lord and Lady Grey.
Just as the letter had stated in Hermione's wardrobe sat four thick old books, Potions for Students, Dark magic and its Effects, Hex's and Jinx's and most confusingly, Pureblood Etiquette and History.
Hermione placed the letter under her pillow as she got ready to sleep. The day had been long and she was now looking forward to her time at Hogwarts, especially to work out who her mysterious Lord and Lady Grey could be.
