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Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters, plots, and places from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by JK Rowling. However, this work is my own and is in no way endorsed by JK Rowling or anyone affiliated with the Harry Potter universe.

Table of Contents:

Content associated with HP and the Philosopher's Stone: Chapters 1-18

Content associated with HP and the Chamber of Secrets: Chapters 19-33

Content associated with HP and the Prisoner of Azkaban: Chapters 34-67

Content associated with HP and the Goblet of Fire: Chapter 68 onwards

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Wizarding World

I heard a knock on the front door, quickly followed by my Mum calling to me from the bottom of the stairs.

"Hermione, please come down to the living room," she called.

I sighed, because I was just at the last few pages of the book I was reading, and I really wanted to finish it. I had already finished the summer reading list for my year, and I was now reading the books on the summer reading list for the year above me.

I got to my feet and headed downstairs to the living room, curious to see who had come to visit. When I walked into the room, though, I did not recognize the woman sitting in the armchair across from Mum and Dad.

She stood up to shake my hand, and I noticed that she was dressed rather strangely. She wore a long dark green cloak which completely covered any regular clothes she may have been wearing underneath. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she struck me as a very serious person.

"You must be Hermione," she said, and she sat back down in the armchair, leaving me to sit in the rocking chair since Mum and Dad were on the couch.

I looked over at Mum and Dad in the hopes of getting some kind of clue as to who this woman was, but they appeared just as confused as I was.

"Yes, I am," I said, unsure of how else to respond.

"My name is Professor McGonagall, I am a teacher at a very special school," the woman replied. I suddenly became excited. Maybe I was getting accepted into one of the advanced programs I had applied for, or perhaps it was the school for gifted students that my last school suggested I apply to. Maybe I was going to be allowed to skip a year or two and move into the seventh or eighth grade.

"I am here to offer you a place at my school," Professor McGonagall continued. A smile started to spread across my face. Now I wouldn't have to endure months of being taunted by Nancy Hummel and her friends for being smart. I would be amongst others who were just as smart as I was, kids who understood the importance of paying attention in class and the joys of doing homework, like-minded people who I could relate to.

"Which school are you from?" Dad asked from the couch. "Are you from the Academy?" he was referring to the Academy for gifted children, of course, to which we had applied a couple months ago.

"No, I am not from any school you have ever heard of. The name of my school is Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall replied. I wondered what kind of school Hogwarts could be and then I wondered how I could have been accepted into this school without even having applied.

"Hogwarts is not the kind of school you would expect, I am sure," Professor McGonagall continued, pausing to see if any of us were going to intervene. "Hogwarts is a school that teaches the study of magic."

Magic – what did she even mean? Was this woman suggesting that I attend a school to learn card tricks and how to saw through people in boxes and then put them back together? It was the silliest thing I had ever heard, and I am certainly a person who believes in doing serious things.

Mum seemed to be wondering the same thing as me, because she asked, "what do you mean when you say magic?"

In response, Professor McGonagall reached under her cloak and pulled out a wooden stick. She raised the stick and pointed it at the coffee table in the center of the room.

"Wingardium leviosa," she said, and the table slowly began to rise off the floor. She kept her wand trained on it and it rose all the way up to the ceiling and then came back down again. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, I was at a complete loss for words, and then I regained control of my brain and remembered that magic is not real.

"It's just an illusion," I said. "There must be wires or something holding the table up. I've read all about these kinds of tricks."

"Do you see any ropes or wires?" Professor McGonagall asked calmly. Though I tried hard to find something, I could not figure out what she used to lift the table. Seeing that I was still not convinced, she pointed her wand at the remote control for the television and said, "accio." The remote immediately flew into her outstretched hand.

I still had a little difficulty believing her. I mean, all the facts say that magic cannot and does not exist, but Professor McGonagall was making it very difficult to cling to the facts. Seeing that I was still struggling with what she was trying to tell me, Professor McGonagall stood up, and with a very determined expression on her face, she disappeared out of thin air, only to appear seconds later across the room at the doorway.

I realized that there was no way she could have faked it and I came to the logical conclusion that magic exists. Mum and Dad on the other hand, looked terrified.

"Do you believe me now?" Professor McGonagall asked, heading back to her chair and sitting down.

"It would be foolish of me not to," I responded matter-of-factly. Now that I'd accepted magic as a reality, I was intrigued to know more. The pursuit of knowledge had always been the most important thing to me, and this was a topic I knew nothing about. In fact, it was a topic vey few knew about, which made it all the more interesting to me.

"Excuse me, just a minute," Dad interrupted. "You expect to come into our home and do a couple of tricks and have us just suddenly accept that this is for real? What kind of people do you take us for?"

"Dad, come on, think rationally," I said, turning to face both of my parents. "A carnival magician would have needed ropes and wires to lift the table. Professor McGonagall did it all on her own. And how to you explain the teleporting? When the carnival magicians do it, they need to hide behind a screen and then sneak away. Professor McGonagall just vanished out of thin air. These clearly aren't parlour tricks, so the only logical explanation is that she's doing real magic."

"Hermione, sweetie," Mum spoke up, "it's sweet that you've so quickly jumped to the conclusion that this is all for real, but there must be another explanation that you just haven't thought of yet."

"I'm not jumping to any conclusions," I protested. I didn't like the insinuation. I didn't jump to anything. I came to conclusions after a proper analysis of the facts. And the facts in this case were that somehow, magic was real. The irrational thing would be to refuse to believe in spite of overwhelming evidence. "Mum, you know me. Have I ever accepted something without first considering every alternate possibility?"

I could see the struggle Mum and Dad had to come to terms with this new revelation. Mum's face was contorted, and Dad's brow was furrowed. But eventually, both reluctantly nodded, accepting that as usual, I was right.

"Alright, so magic is real," Dad said. "Why are we finding out now?"

"Hermione," Professor McGonagall began, gesturing to me while still talking to Mum and Dad, "is a member of the magical community, having magical blood in her veins, while the two of you do not have any magic in your blood and as such are members of the non-magical community. Due to the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, members of the magical community are prohibited from revealing the very existence of a magical community to members of the non-magical community unless a situation such as this arises."

"How did Hermione end up with magic in her blood if we don't have any?" Dad asked, clearly still confused.

"Sometimes this does happen; a magical child can be born to non-magical parents. I do not assume to be an expert in why these things happen, nor do I assume to be an expert in why non-magical children are born to magical parents, though this is a particularly rare occurrence."

"So, you want Hermione to go to your school and learn how to do magic?" Dad asked.

"Yes, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is, in my opinion, the best Wizarding School in perhaps the whole world. If Hermione wants to go, she has a place there," Professor McGonagall replied.

When she said this, I started to picture myself doing magic. I saw myself learning a whole new brand of subjects. I knew immediately why I never fit in at my primary school. It was because I was never meant to attend a school like that. I saw myself reading spell books and waving my very own wand, and I saw myself never having to face Nancy Hummel or any of her friends ever again.

Without even realizing I had opened my mouth, I found myself speaking. "Yes, I want to go to Hogwarts."

Professor McGonagall smiled and pulled an envelope out from underneath her cloak. "Here is your official Hogwarts acceptance letter," she said, handing it to me. I ripped it open, eager to read it.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Granger.

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

So, Professor McGonagall was the Deputy Headmistress. I supposed that was why she was the one who came to explain everything to us. I read the letter over again.

"What does it mean by 'we await your owl'?" I asked.

"You do not have to worry about that part. I will be returning to Hogwarts myself shortly and I will inform the Headmaster that you intend to attend. Owl post is typically the way witches and wizards normally communicate with each other," she replied.

This brought up another question I had. "You said witches and wizards," I said slowly. "Does that mean I'm a witch?"

"Yes," Professor McGonagall said simply.

I looked back at my letter and noticed that it mentioned a booklist that was supposed to be enclosed. I reached back into the envelope and drew it out, reading through the list, curious to see what sorts of things I would be learning about.

I looked up from the list of things I would need, "Where am I supposed to buy all of this?" I asked, realizing that in addition to the spell books, I would need other supplies, like a cauldron and a wand. It's not like those sorts of things were sold at the local department store.

"If you aren't busy right now, I can show you," Professor McGonagall said, looking over at Mum and Dad.

"Well, I suppose we might as well go," Mum said with a reluctant acceptance. "Let me go get my purse."