Hermione Granger was studious if not slightly stuck up, workaholic of a student who currently attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The school was a school like no other; it was a school of magic, the best school of magic in the entire world. Unlike most school's magic or non-magical Hogwarts was a castle. It was an incredibly old, perfectly preserved castle which had been standing for over a thousand years. The school, built on a sheer cliff; bordered on one side by The Forbidden Forest and on another by the Black Lake, both of which held any number of monstrous creatures. The other two sides of the castle, as well as the lake and forest, were bordered by towering mountains, often topped with snow even during the hottest of months. A winding path led from the large castle to the only village for miles, Hogsmeade which was set in a valley far below.
Hermione had been attending the school for the last three years. At the age of fifteen, Hermione was one of the oldest in her year, almost an entire year older than her best friends Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley and most of the other fourth year students for that matter. She didn't mind been older or been a girl, but she sometimes found it difficult to interact with her school peers. Unfortunately, not many people wanted to be friends with a brainy, bushy-haired-bucktoothed-girl. She had always found it difficult to interact with people her age, even as a young child in the muggle world. This was because strange things always seemed to happen around her. Of course, she knew now that the peculiar things were manifestations of her accidental magic. As a child, Hermione had often shied away from other children who were often malicious to her and sort comfort in books as they couldn't hurt her the way playground bullies often did.
On discovering that she was a witch and attending Hogwarts, Hermione had hoped to be accepted by those who were like her, but her bookworm persona had stuck. It had turned out magical children didn't like know-it-all's either. For the first two months of her Hogwarts career, Hermione had been an outcast, until the day Harry and Ron had saved her from a mountain troll and became her friends.
At first, she was unsure of whether they were her friends because they were sorry for her or because they liked her. It wasn't until after the fiasco of finding the Philosophers Stone and facing Quirrellmort that Hermione had realised that the two boys who had saved her many months before in a girl's bathroom cared for her. Since then, she had come to think of her two friends as annoying little brothers. After becoming friends with Harry and Ron, the rest of Gryffindor had quickly warmed up to Hermione, and she was happy to have gained many friends within not only her own house but also in the other houses as well.
Hermione was running late, she had slept in this morning, and not one of her dorm mates had bothered to wake her up. She had stayed up late the previous night with the rest of Gryffindor's because the Weasley Twins had thrown a small start of term party in the common room. She wouldn't usually stay up so late, especially on a school night but there had been a storm outside, and she had been jumpy ever since the disaster that was the Quidditch World Cup. The thunder had sounded just like the explosions the Death Eaters had made as they had sort out Muggle's and Muggleborn's for their drunken entertainment. Hermione had tried to sleep but had found herself jumping with fright every time there was a booming bang, so she had left her four-poster bed and returned to the common room where Fred had given her a bottle of Butterbeer and she had curled up beside the fire, a book in had as her housemates boisterously partied around her. Hermione hadn't returned to her bed until long after midnight once the party and storm had calmed. As a result, Hermione had continued to sleep blissfully unaware of her morning alarm or her roommates getting ready for breakfast.
Contrary to popular belief Hermione was not a morning person. She despised waking up and often slept in on weekends until well after lunchtime. School days were different kettle of fish as her mother would say and usually Hermione would force herself out of bed at seven so that she could be ready and have eaten breakfast before classes started at nine. Today, however, she had slept through her alarm and only had five minutes to get to her first class, a class she wasn't even sure of as she had yet to be given her timetable from Professor McGonagall. This was beyond acceptable for her especially on the first day of term, this would go on her permanent record for sure and affect her chances of becoming Head Girl in her seventh year.
Hermione had rushed around her dormitory pulling off her Pyjamas and shoving on her uniform with haste. When she left her room only a few minutes later her usual immaculate appearance was nowhere to be seen. She wore her skirt lopsided so that it rode up far higher than it was meant to, revealing far more of her legs than was acceptable; this was made worse as she had forgone her grey knitted tights or knee-high socks that were part of her uniform, leaving her legs bare to the September chill. Hermione's white shirt had only been fastened by the first three buttons, leaving her recently developed breasts on display, both squished uncomfortably and overlapping the too small bra of Ginny's which must have been among the clean clothes Mrs Weasley had given her the previous morning before they had left the Burrow for Kings Cross. Her tie hung loosely around her neck and her robe draped off her shoulders unceremoniously as she ran down the corridors, a pair of mismatch shoes hastily shoved on her feet. Hermione's hair usually wild with bouncing ringlets was bushier than it had been in her first year, a hairbrush was tangled within it and toothpaste dribbled down her chin; even as late as she was, Hermione was the child of two dentists, and she would never not brush her teeth.
As she ran through the school; she carried her half-open potions kit in one arm and her book-filled bag in the other, unsure what items she would require for her first day of lessons. As she ran, she passed no one in her hasty descent to the first floor where she would collect her timetable. Hermione did not see when a tapestry in front of her moved, nor when a tall red-headed boy stepped out closely followed by his identical twin, but she felt it when she collided with the first of the twins. As they collided the bottle in his hand smashed and with the potions kit in her arms tumbled to the ground, the contents of the kit mixing with the spilt potion on the ground. Hermione could do little more than let out a pained gasp as the forward momentum of the boy toppled them both to the ground. Hermione was briefly aware of the twin landing atop of her cuts forming on her skin where the broken glass embedded itself in her; she was also aware of all the air leaving her body as his weight crushed her to the stone ground. Looking up she herd her name leave his surprised lips and she met the startled eyes of Fred Weasley before a blinding white light flashed around them and everything went blank.
In the place where both the Fred and Hermione had landed two small children now lay unconscious: George Weasley staring down at them in horror.
