A/N Special thanks to KSR for the first review and kind words. Thank you all for following this story; I hope it lives up to your expectations. It means more than you realize.

For those of you that are curious, the title (and part of the idea) for this fic came to me while listening to the song of the same name by Manfred Mann's Earth Band.

Something I want to say before this chapter begins; Hermione's birthday is in September, and if she was invited to Hogwarts at 11, she would be turning 12 shortly after starting her first year. That means in her fifth year she would turn 16, but with the use of the Time-Turner in third year, she would actually be 17. If this is inaccurate please let me know so it can be fixed before I'm too far ahead.

I find it rather difficult to refrain from posting all I have written so far, but I promised myself I would have so many chapters ahead and I plan to keep it that way. Seeing as I have written a chapter before posting this one, I can post this without breaking my promise. As a reader of FanFiction, I find it difficult to wait for updates, and as a writer, I found that it hasn't changed, though I never have been a very patient person.

I hope you enjoy this chapter at least as much as the first one. As always please feel free to point out any mistakes and I will fix them as soon as I can.

This story is non-canon and all characters and rights belong to JK Rowling

The next day had Hermione in the car with her parents driving to King's Cross Station. She was sitting in the backseat, pondering the little more of her new book she read last night before she packed it in her trunk. Altering and creating spells seemed like the perfect challenge, as her schoolwork had always been rather easy. Her parents were discussing the practice and patients, and she wasn't too keen to pay attention to the conversation.

Harry and Ron managed to see her on the platform after she bid her parents farewell. She was hoping to avoid them for at least part of the train ride back to Hogwarts. She sighed, not really in the mood to talk to the two boys. The Malfoys suddenly appeared between her and the other two-thirds of the Golden Trio.

They must have apparated, Hermione mused, but took the chance to slip away from Harry and Ron, catching the insults Draco and Ron exchanged. Silently, she thanked the Malfoys-and her sparse luck-for appearing when they did. Not that she held any less dislike toward Draco, but she really just couldn't deal with Harry and Ron yet. As she slipped onto the train, she could swear Narcissa Malfoy met her gaze briefly before turning to her son.

Settling into an empty compartment after putting on her robes, Hermione opened her newfound treasure of a book, but not before placing a disguise charm on it. She was worried what might happen if someone found her reading a book that looked like the one she was reading. After all, she herself had been suspicious of the book, but her curiosity won out in the end, as it often did. She was glad it did, the book must have been extremely valuable and had information she was unlikely to find at Hogwarts, even in the Restricted section. Not for the first time, she wondering who had sent the book to her.

"Hermione! There you are! We've been looking all over the train for you!" an annoyingly whiny voice broke through her reading. Composing herself, she plastered on a smile as she looked up at Harry and Ron moving into the compartment to sit across from her.

"Sure, take a seat. I was tired of my reading time," she said, slightly sarcastically, though neither boy noticed. They truly were oblivious dunderheads. She briefly wondered what might have happened if she had been sorted into Ravenclaw, and had never met the two Golden Gits. She laughed inwardly before deciding to stow her book away.

"How was your summer 'Mione? Ron and I missed you at the Burrow. We could've used your help thinking of a fast way to get rid of the gnomes in the garden. And of course, Mrs. Weasley kept asking if you were gonna visit at all."

"My summer was fine, Harry. I had a great time just being with my parents."

Harry nodded and Hermione looked out the window, content to ride in silence. Ron roped Harry into a discussion about Quidditch and Hermione unconsciously wrinkled her nose in distaste. She wanted to read her book but didn't want the two boys questioning her about it as she knew they would. Announcing she was going to do her Prefect rounds, Hermione stepped out of the compartment and checked on the first years. As she was somewhat lost in thought, she nearly ran into Draco.

"Watch it, Granger," he sneered.

She mumbled an apology, not paying the Slytherin Prefect too much attention. She didn't feel like confrontation and she was distracted by altering charms and creating new spells. He glanced back at her as she passed him, a confused look subtly on his stoic face, but he brushed it off and continued his rounds on the train.

Hermione did not pay much attention to the sorting of first years or Dumbledore's monologue. She really wanted to work on spells, especially now she was on school grounds and wouldn't receive a letter from the Ministry. Unfortunately, she had no place to practice in secret, but she could start training physically. She had a feeling some of the magic she would soon be practicing would require a great amount of stamina, especially if she wanted to make significant progress. She had briefly glanced farther ahead and had noticed plenty of offensive spells for duels, and she was well aware she was not a very good duelist.

She was distracted by Dumbledore announcing the end of the feast and quickly stood to perform her Prefect duties. She guided the new students to Gryffindor Tower and made sure they were all close enough to hear the password to get past the Fat Lady. She pointed out the Girls' and Boys' dormitories and went over the rules of the castle before taking questions and retiring to her bed to look over her book.

Most powerful witches and wizards descend from the purest bloodlines. For example, the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black has produced some of the most powerful in terms of sheer magical ability. This does not, however, relate to skill in using said abilities. It is possible for a muggleborn witch or wizard to best a pureblood if they are more skilled. Magic is about discipline as well as power. Magic abilities must be honed, like any a fine edged sword, for magic is the weapon of those who can wield it. Magic will not bend to the will of anyone. To truly use magic, one must possess the ability and discipline. Witches or wizards with both of those qualities often come in pairs over the generations.

Hermione ran her fingers down the page, her lip between her teeth, thinking over what she had read. In all honesty, it mostly made sense. She despised the pureblood views that muggleborns were scum and women were subservient, but they were bred for magic. She did, however, best most of her pureblood peers because she had the drive to be the best, and they were often spoiled and undisciplined. The passage didn't seem entirely false. She did wonder about the intended meaning of the last part though.

Pairs as in complements, like two sides of the same coin? There for balance, or is there more to it than that? She pondered, mental wheels turning before running out of steam and guiding her to sleep.