Chapter 1: Hogwarts Years 1-4
Hermione Granger always knew she was different and was quite proud of the fact. Getting to that point, however, was another feat entirely. When she was a young child, it wasn't easy to overcome the nastiness of her fellow primary schoolmates. Her schoolmates mocked her frizzy curls, the smattering of freckles across her nose, and most cruelly of all, they mocked that she did not 'match' her mum and dad.
With tears pouring down her cheeks, Helen and Gregory Granger tried their best to explain to a six year-old that people sometimes made ignorant comments. But it was difficult to explain to why their daughter's skin was the perfect shade of gold and caramel while theirs was shades paler than hers. In time, she accepted that while people were different on the outside, they were the same on the inside. Hermione learned to ignore those who made comments about her family, because they were a family all the same and that was the only thing that mattered. In time, young Hermione built an emotional wall around these types of bullies, but as a result, had very few friends growing up. But it was no matter for she turned to books for companionship.
For almost twelve years it had been the just three of them; her love for her parents grew every time they consoled her after a schoolmate mocked her or came to comfort her when some unexplained accident occurred around her. They built her self-confidence and bade her to ignore the others. Sure they doted on her, as any parents of an only child would, but they made sure to keep her grounded. She learned about the world from her parents – and her very first dream to change the world for the better stemmed from her interactions with Helen and Gregory Granger.
And so when a kindly, old lady with a funny hat and clothes better suited for the bed came to visit and informed her that she, Hermione Granger, was a witch – her very first thought was, of course she was! Her parents always instilled in her that she was special and armed with the knowledge that she was magical, Hermione Granger set off for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ready to change the world for the better.
On 1st September at King's Cross, Hermione nervously stood on the platform at 9 and ¾ taking in all the children, animals, and noises bustling about. Her parents and she stood stock still, a hand firmly clasped to each shoulder as her feet were glued to the ground beneath.
"Well," her father started as he patted her large trunk, full of supplies for the next ten months. "No time like the present. Best be off before you miss your train." Hermione looked up at him. His smile was soft and warm and set her nerves partly at ease.
Turning about, Hermione watched as friends who had been separated by the summer reunited easily on the platform and moved to board the red Express. "But what if they don't like me?" she softly voiced her fear so that only her parents could hear. "From what I read in Hogwarts, A History some of these families have been attending Hogwarts for generations."
Helen Granger knelt beside her daughter and brushed a wayward curl away from her face. "Look at you in your fancy robes. You," her mother pinched her nose in jest, "are about to embark on an amazing adventure, far better than anything you've read about."
Hermione rolled her eyes at her mother's exaggeration, thinking of all the great stories she'd read by literary masters. "I highly doubt that."
Her mother grinned at her daughter's precociousness, as she busied herself with straightening Hermione's newly purchased robes. "Yes, well, how will you know if you don't move forward and find out? You'll never know unless you take the first step, dear."
Her mother stood up and encouraged, Hermione picked up the handle of her trunk. Taking a deep breath, she hugged her parents once more for luck and took off for the train, but not before promising to write.
Elsewhere on the busy platform stood another trio preparing to see their only son off to Hogwarts.
"Remember what we spoke about, Draco," Lucius Malfoy neatly reminded his son as he surveyed the crowd of passing faces for those he recognized and needed to speak with. "The path towards ambition starts now."
"Come now, Lucius. There are certainly more important things than making alliances," Narcissa Malfoy tutted as she once again straightened Draco's collar. The young Malfoy quickly shrugged off her gloved hand from his shoulder. "Have fun and make lots of new friends." She gave him a small peck on the cheek.
"Of the right sort, Narcissa," Lucius amended for her. "Of the right sort."
"I know what I need to do," Draco sighed in between his parents, exasperated. "I'll write you after the feast, okay?" Draco compromised with his mother, eager to join his friends who boarded ahead.
Narcissa and Lucius watched with pride and a touch of sadness as their only son and heir boarded the train with his friends.
Narcissa leaned against Lucius' arm just a fraction. "Have you spoken with Kingsley recently? I imagine he hasn't forgotten the importance of this day," she inquired softly.
It was a moment before Lucius replied, "The DMLE keeps him very busy. He was unusually brief in the last letter I received from him." Lucius kept his eyes on the train, now pulling out of the station.
"I can't imagine he's forgotten after all this time," Narcissa sighed and waved once more to the train as it pulled out of sight. "Perhaps, we should invite him over for tea?"
Lucius pulled and straightened the lapels of his jacket, ready to go about his day now that his son was off. "To what end? What good would it do us to remind him that our son is off to Hogwarts, while he mourns his deceased daughter?"
"I'm sure you can catch up on other Ministry-related matters, but there is something to be said for showing concern. You were friends once, and our families were going to be joined by marriage," she pointed out to her husband, alarmed at his lack of emotion regarding his former Housemate.
"Well he certainly forgot everything you mentioned when he led the DMLE into my home all those years ago, waving around unfounded accusations," Lucius retorted, miffed at the memory and temporary embarrassment it had caused. He lost a good deal of public standing after the first Wizarding war, no thanks to the DMLE. It had taken years of maneuvering and currying favors to regain the Malfoy's lost footing. Now he was determined to see an even greater positon for his family, even more so for his son.
Narcissa moved to stop Lucius in his tracks. Her voice was low but retained its edge. "Your friend was still grieving the loss of his wife and daughter at the time, if you recall. I also happen to recall that he testified in our favor after the raid. Reach out to him, Lucius." Narcissa waited patiently in his path.
Wanting this to be over quickly, as there was few still lingering on the platform, he nodded. "I'll send him an owl this afternoon."
Back on the Hogwarts Express, Hermione settled into her empty compartment and rubbed her aching wrist. It hurt from waving so, but she had waved until she could no longer see her parents. Nervously, she twisted her charmed bracelet about her wrist as she pondered what to do now. Recalling her mother's words, she put on a brave face and opened the compartment door, in search of other first year students.
Her search ended quickly when Hermione ran into a homely, little boy asking if she had seen his toad, Trevor and was swept up in a search for the missing familiar. They went from door-to-door along the moving train inquiring about the missing toad, until the boy (Neville she learned) paused after opening the door to a certain compartment.
Curious, she peaked over Neville's shoulder as he backed out of the door when a voice stopped them both.
"What do we have here?" A voice full of posturing filled the air.
Situated about the compartment were three elegantly dressed boys and one girl. They held an air about them that screamed what her mother called 'blueblood'. Hermione could see poor Neville whither before them.
"Never mind-" Neville started, quick to back out of the compartment, but Hermione stepped around him and introduced herself.
"I'm Hermione Granger and this is Neville. He's looking for his toad, Trevor. Have you seen him?" she asked the group, very aware of their collective stare upon her person. She tried not to shift under their scrutiny.
The girl, her round-face framed by an expensive haircut, sniffed and turned up her nose. "Eww. Like we would touch a toad, nonetheless give him back to Longbottom here."
A silver-haired boy, no bigger than the girl next to him, narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "Granger? I've never of heard that name," he derided her surname as if it were beneath him.
Hermione narrowed her eyes right back. "It's a respectable name. And you are?" she asked haughtily.
The boy sneered as he appraised her from head-to-toe, obviously coming to a conclusion she had missed. "Draco Malfoy. And you'll do well to respect your betters -"
"Come on, Hermione, let's go," Neville pulled Hermione from the compartment before the Malfoy boy could continue. "They'll be no help to us."
Hermione huffed indignantly as the door closed behind them. "They've no right to be rude like that. Do you know them?"
Neville half-shrugged. "I know of them." He quickly listed off the heirs of Houses Malfoy, Parkinson, Nott and Zabini. "There's not a lot of good history between our families, but it's not your fault. You didn't know."
Hermione quickly absorbed this new information, but could only reply with a rattled, "Honestly, that boy had some nerve," before the duo of youngsters set off for the next compartment.
Her first few months at Hogwarts were not too unpleasant. Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor after some nonsense with the Sorting Hat questioning if she wanted to follow her father into his House of Slytherin. Thoroughly confused and unsure if there was a Hogwarts House for dentists, the Hat acquiesced and put her into the House of her choosing. She was pleased to join Neville Longbottom and two other acquaintances she had met on the train, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, in Gryffindor. She wrote her parents as much as she could, but there was little time between her classes and the library (and boy, was there ever a library at Hogwarts!).
By time Halloween came around, she was far ahead in her classes and happily fit everything she could in her letters home. The only class she was not excelling in was Flying for First Years. After Madame Hooch recommend she take a rudimentary flying class to catch up to her peers, even Neville's gentle words were not enough to cheer her up. Even those she thought were friendly enough managed to find something they didn't like about her. She tried to let their jeers about her bossiness and ability to answer every single question roll off her back, but by time Ronald Weasley insulted her for attempting to help him perform a spell he should have known, she nearly threw in the towel. It was primary school all over again, except there was no comfort given here when the tears came. Until that unfortunate troll incident, that is.
From there, things miraculously changed after that. Harry and Ron apologized and things seem to perk up once more. And though they eased up on the teasing, they never gave up their good-natured ribbing. Finally her longing to belong, ever since she learned she was adopted, began to shrink; Hermione had friends and a place where she belonged. Even after that nasty business with Professor Quirell at the end of her first year, she did not want to leave Hogwarts. The school held more secrets than Hogwarts, A History held within its pages, and Harry Potter had a knack for attracting all of them.
She couldn't help but agree with her mum that she was going on the biggest adventure of her life. Every year seemed to bring about something new: the opening of the mysterious Chamber of Secrets, being pertified, staying two steps ahead of the escaped prisoner of Azkaban, being chased by a werewolf, nearly succumbing to Dementors, and her brief wielding of time itself.
Now three years later in her fourth year, a fifteen year-old Hermione walked among the stacks of Hogwarts' library on how to best help Harry yet again find his way out of peril. She was helping Harry prepare for the second task of the Tri-Wizarding Tournament and still silently fumed on how the whole situation had come about. The entire situation stunk of interference of some kind, but she would do what she could to help Harry succeed. Huffing she stuck three additional books to read later into her satchel and began the long trek back to Gryffindor's tower.
Running a hair over riotous curls that seemed to have a mind of its own the longer the day went on, Hermione rounded the corner and walked directly into the back of Draco Malfoy. And apparently the ferret wasn't alone.
She had interrupted Sytherin's newest couple in the midst of a snogging session and inwardly sighed at the predictable insults bound to fly forth now that she had interrupted them.
"Watch where you're going, Mudblood!" Pansy sneered through kissed-bruised lips, her pink nails tight about her boyfriend's arms. Clearly the witch was upset that Hermione interrupted her snogging session with Malfoy.
Hermione rolled her eyes at the predictable insult. "As if I purposely wanted to see that! You two should slither back to the dungeons before you're caught past curfew," Hermione tried to rise above the obvious bait.
Malfoy wagged a cocky eyebrow at her. "Jealous, Mudblood? I imagine it's lonely with books for company every night. Unless you count that beast on top of your head as a friend."
Keeping her point of view squarely on his grey eyes, dilated from his previous activities, Hermione sought not to stare at his mouth, now smeared with Pansy's lip gloss. "Please," Hermione said and stepped around the two seeking to drown out the insults regarding her hair, inferior blood, and desirability by hurrying her steps up the stairs.
Thoroughly tired, she trudged past the portrait door and towards her dorm hopeful for some peace and quiet. But she would find no such thing.
"What are you three doing?" Hermione asked suspiciously finding Lavender Brown, Parvarti and Padma Patil wide-awake and huddled around Pavarti's poster bed whispering and conspiring over something hidden between them.
Lavender gave Hermione a dreamy smile. "We're planning our outfits for the Yule Ball. The whole school's gone mad with trying to secure a date." Besides her, the Patil twins nodded in eager agreement.
Hermione chuckled, as she dropped her heavy satchel on top of her trunk. "I think you mean only fourth through seventh years are caught up in the madness," she corrected Lavender, as they would be the only ones who could attend the upcoming dance. "And who cares what you wear?"
Lavender sighed as she turned another page in the latest issue of Witch Weekly before them. All three huddled over it as if it contained the Holy Grail. "I suppose being Muggle-born you wouldn't understand," Lavender explained. "But futures are being planned as we speak. Who you take to the Ball can very well be the person you end up marrying," she emphasized to a round of giggles from the Patil twins.
Hermione laughed outright. Here she was planning how to save her friend from certain death while her roommates planned and arranged marriages. "That's preposterous! We're only fourteen. You can't possibly tell me one night will determine who you spend the rest of your life with."
Padma shook her head pitifully at Hermione's ignorance. "Things are done differently among purebloods, Hermione. Especially within the old families."
"You mean, like an arranged marriage?" Hermione postured. When the three girls nodded silently, she continued aghast, "That's positively barbaric."
Pavarti recited a line as if from memory. "Daughters are raised knowing their fathers will secure a prosperous union for them. It's a way a life."
Hermione sat down on her bed, eyebrow raised skeptically in question. "And all that will happen from taking a date to a dance? For one night?"
Lavender reached, suddenly not happy with having to explain to her dream. It made it seem less real when she said it aloud. "Well… possibly. With the hols approaching, one may receive a token or some sort of favor."
Hermione pushed a stray curl behind her ear, still trying to understand when a flash of gold caught her roommate's eye.
"Like the one you got, Hermione!" Lavender rushed forward to pull Hermione's arm out for all to see. The Patil twins cooed over the bracelet. "This is absolutely beautiful. I've been meaning to ask. Who gave it to you?" Lavender asked in a conspiring voice as if Hermione had something to hide.
Hermione pulled back her arm and rolled down her sleeve. "No one gave it to me. I mean, it's mine. I've had it since I was an infant."
Lavender wasn't completely satisfied and pried further. "Are you sure about that? It looks very valuable and traditional to be a plain, old gift."
Hermione frowned. "I don't see why not."
Giving up on the topic, Lavender returned back to her magazine. "Don't get defensive, I was just making an observation. Besides I'm sure you don't have to worry about a date to the Ball, anyways. If someone saw that on your arm, they'd probably think you were already betrothed. Well … you know if you weren't a Muggle-born and all." That caused the girls to laugh amongst themselves.
Having enough girl-chat for the evening, Hermione held her charmed wrist close and made her way to the washroom. She'd long accepted the bracelet as part of her. Come to think of it, the bracelet never grew tight on her wrist and was always the perfect size. Moving to stand before the bathroom mirror Hermione stared at the one trinket that adorned the bracelet: a small lightning bolt.
Suddenly, she wondered why she never took it off; strangely she felt compelled to keep it on always. Her parents had explained to her that her biological parents must've have bestowed it upon her because she had been adopted with it on. Nothing they did could remove it and as an infant, Hermione seemed to get upset whenever anyone tried, so her parents just stopped trying. Maybe she just wanted to hold onto the one thing from her biological parents?
But something urged her to examine her bracelet more closely. The fact that the bracelet had grown in size with her from infancy to young adulthood was more than enough to give her pause. Fingering the golden links, she decided the next time she visited the library for assistance on Harry's task, she would be sure to do more research on emblems and magical trinkets. She didn't believe the bracelet to be magical, but it wouldn't hurt to do some digging.
But for now as she took in her reflection, she supposed she should ask Ginny or Lavender on how to go about securing a dress. Her mother had sent money she had since converted to galleons. Now would be a good of time as ever to put it to use.
After three tries to gather all of her brown and frizzy curls into one hand, Hermione held her hair up and twisted before the mirror to see how she looked. She imagined herself with exotic eyes, like the Patil twins, in place of her light brown eyes and fancy robes she was sure that girls like Pansy Parkinson wore.
She sighed as she let her curls fall back around her face. Perhaps, she should do something with her hair too.