My 11th birthday pinpointed the start of a new life. You see, after mum's overdose, Anthony devoted all of his spare time in nurturing her back to health. It took a while but as time passed, I was able to forgive Anthony his sins against me as he had never intentionally tried to hurt me. As for his drunken ramblings, they locked themselves into the depths of my mind and I never questioned what had transpired that night. It wasn't until I was quite older that the true meaning of his words sunk in. Meanwhile, I spent much of my time going over new schoolbooks. My Hogwarts letter had arrived shortly after my birthday and I had begged mum to take me supply shopping. I was ecstatic. Finally, I would be meeting people who would not shrink away from the thought of magic. The past two years had pushed me to the breaking point and with any provocation, I would retaliate. Needless to say, I was shunned by all of the students at the local school I attended. Fear... It resided in many of the eyes who dared not stare into my own. The thought alone made me laugh. I began to pride myself on the fact that I could do things they could never even dream of. For starters, I was highly intelligent. I was the smartest in my class for that matter… and extremely talented. I would vent much of my frustrations through music, voice, and dance training and spent hours upon hours practicing. And then there was magic. Untrained as I was, I had somehow mastered simple feats such as levitating small objects, and manipulating things like light switches. I walked the halls with my head up high, knowing that no one would dare challenge me. Even if they were brave enough to try, no one could best me? I mean how could they? I was, simply put, better than them.
To my own dismay, I ostracized myself from the others and led an empty, meaningless life. I had no friends, and painted and sketched often, mainly to pass the time, but eventually gave it up in the quest for knowledge. It was a quieter pastime, and helped divest me of troublesome tutors. Reading also helped to pass the lonelier hours of life. In short, my Hogwarts letter came as a blessing. Try as I might—not that I tried very hard—I could not fit into the world in which I was born and was hell bent on proving that I belonged to the newly discovered one. Starting September 1st, a new chapter of my life would begin. Nevermore would I be subject to the sidelong glances from insubordinate peers. I would rightfully step into the wizarding world; rightfully take my place with others like me; with equals.
I spent the last week before term reading Hogwarts, A History. It had become one of my favorite books and I never could put it down for long. At night, I would lay in bed wondering what house I'd be sorted into. I had finally settled on either Gryffindor or Slytherin. Sometimes I asked my mum what she thought but she would always evade my questions. In the end, she would get teary eyed and tell me that Gryffindor would be a good house. I smiled and let her know that Slytherin had much more of an appeal for me but that I would keep her wishes in mind. Not that I really had a choice in the matter. The morning of my departure, I studied her face for a minute before asking her why she had chosen Gryffindor, but her only reply was that we had better get going if I didn't wish to miss the train.
The train ride to Hogwarts was uneventful minus a few students who had caught my eye. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the famous Harry Potter was in my year. He was a shy fellow with unruly black hair and brilliant green eyes. I fixed his broken glasses for him with a simple charm for which he seemed grateful. He has a nice smile. In the compartment with him was another boy with vibrant red hair. I had seen a couple of older boys with the same hair all along the train and assumed they were his brothers. His shabby robes were two inches two short and he had dirt on his nose. Not much of a first impression. The only other worthy of my attention was a young boy also in my year. He stalked the length of the train like he owned the place and I couldn't decide on whether I liked him or not. His platinum blond hair gleamed in the sunlight and he looked positively dashing in finely tailored robes. On a trip back from the lavatory, I noticed that he had amazingly grey eyes… almost silver. I followed him down the train and eavesdropped on the little spat he had with Harry Potter and that red headed kid. As expected, Harry was of the righteous sort and stood up for his new found friend. As for the blond, whom I discovered as Draco Malfoy, he was an arrogant prat and reminded me so much of myself back home. No wonder no one had liked me… I smiled to myself. However, as much as I detested every aspect of this pompous little boy, something about Malfoy drew me to him and I didn't like it. Looking back, it was this reason that drove me from Slytherin. I had heard that Slytherin was his choice house and as I wished to avoid him, hoped that Gryffindor would become mine. It would be best to keep my distance.
As we neared Hogwarts, I contemplated popping into Potters compartment. I admit that I might have been a little pushy with him earlier but old habits die hard. Besides… if I wanted to make a name for myself in the wizarding world, what better way to start than as the friend of the boy who lived?
When the train pulled to a stop, first years were asked to follow a giant of a man through a forest and into small boats. We crossed a huge lake and from our location, the view of Hogwarts was spectacular. The actual sorting took place in the great hall. Many of my fellow first years gazed wonderingly at the ceiling but I whisperingly told someone beside me that it was only enchanted to look like the night sky. I had read about it in Hogwarts, A History. It was slightly nerve wracking waiting for Professor McGonagall to call my name but when she did, I walked purposefully up to the stool and took a seat. She placed the sorting hat upon my head and for a moment, nothing happened.
'Curious… it's been a while since I've come across one like you.'
'One like what?' I snapped at the sorting hat.
'Temper, temper… a very Slytherin trait if I must say… but is that where you really belong? You have passion, intellect and talent… oh yes…definitely talent. Salazar himself would be proud. And what is this? Oh your parents would be very disappointed if you were sorted into the wrong house…'
'Well then place me in Gryffindor if you're going to go by what my mum wants.' I responded crossly. The sorting hat was starting to creep me out… it knew things about me that I wasn't even sure I knew.
'Gryffindor eh? Is that what you want? You have a great deal of bravery…no doubting that… but that thirst to prove yourself…Slytherin could really help you along you know. My, my… you are a tough decision.'
'I already said Gryffindor, or didn't you hear me properly? I've already decided so there's no point in making me unhappy.'
'Ha! Child… you hardly know what you truly desire but if this is what you ask, then so it shall be GRYFFINDOR!'
The sorting hat had yelled out the last word and I sheepishly ran towards the Gryffindor table amidst great applause. My conversation with the sorting hat had definitely set my mind spinning. What was that rubbish about my parents being disappointed and Salazar himself proud? I shook my head and tried to concentrate on the rest of the sorting. As expected, Malfoy had been sorted into Slytherin and a nervous looking Harry had become a Gryffindor. I clapped heartily for him as he joined us at the table and awaited the outcome for the rest of the first years. It was hardly surprising when the red headed boy—Ronald Weasley, I now discovered—was made a Gryffindor as were all of his brothers. Once again I shook my head and turned towards my new house mates. There was no point in brooding over something I would not understand, pushing it aside to contemplate later in the confines of my bed. I would enjoy the feast, and tomorrow would be my time to shine. It was time for the wizarding world to get acquainted with a new name: Hermione Granger.