A/N: Harry Potter et al belong to JK Rowling, with my thanks for letting me play with her toys.
This is a non-canon story. Hermione is called Jean in this story, though that will change as the story progresses.
A big Thank You to tricorvus and SmolderingJade for your review of Chapter 1!
Chapter 2 A Comforting Word
Glancing to the side, Jean noted that the click-clack of knitting had stopped. She found the older woman was looking at her, as if considering something important.
"That's quite a frown for such a pretty girl."
Jean saw kindness in the woman's eyes, and curiosity... and pity?
"What troubles you, young one?" she persisted.
The pity bothered Jean, yet she knew that she had been frowning, and without thinking further on the why, she tried to consider the what. What could she say to explain what had her upset, yet not delve too deeply. She settled for the simplified truth. "I was just remembering some troubled times, I guess I got caught up in the past." Jean explained, feeling quite a bit embarrassed.
"Well, it's true we all go through bad times in this life, that I won't deny. I am sorry someone of your tender years has suffered, but did things get better?"
The concern in the woman's voice warmed Jean's heart and she felt herself opening up to the stranger sitting with her in the gloom. "Well, yes, they did... for awhile."
Jean's mind began to flash through the memories of her time at the Academy, and earlier school years, it was a stark comparison. She knew she did not want to dwell on the darker times, but that was her mood, and she couldn't help the way her mind jumped to this last year and it's struggles. Realizing her eyes were tearing, Jean began to feel that terrible mix of emotions: Shame that she would cry, regret that she could not let loose her pain, and especially frustration as the two emotions swirled around, battering her vaunted self control. Bodily shuddering as she tried to come up with something more to say, some way to turn from this conversation, she could only lower her head to try to hide her emotions. Around the station the large overhead lamps seemed to dim and then flare, but Sarah paid it no attention and Jean's face was buried in her own hair.
"My goodness," the woman spoke quietly again. "Those better times sure didn't last, did they you poor thing?"
Before Jean could respond she was engulfed in a warm embrace. The sudden and gentle way she was treated pushed her grief to the fore. Finally the tears spilled from her eyes, though she did not cry. The faint smell of vanilla filled in the missing piece of her miserable recollections and she choked back a sob. She had no idea what was going on. She had not come undone like this for years. Hadn't felt like she could let everything out, like she didn't have to be strong...
The warmth she felt as this stranger held her, rubbing her back and murmuring calming words was beyond soothing, it was as if her heart was giving her mind permission to let go. So let go she did; Hermione Jean Granger released the pent up sobs and cried freely, and the woman who held her wondered at what troubles this young woman had held onto.
Again the bulbs almost seemed to strobe in brightness. This time Sarah frowned up at them, however Jean's face was now hidden by Sarah's coat in addition to her curls and continued to be oblivious to the light show.
At the back edge of the station a solitary figure in a long trench coat looked around warily at the lights, finally returning his gaze to the pair on the bench.
Though she felt foolish, Jean felt gratitude much more strongly. Not since... since her mother had gotten sick, had Jean allowed herself to cry unchecked. She knew she was the one who enforced that restriction, knew her mother could have handled it, that her dad could have comforted her, yet she felt she had to be strong. She knew that she had to maintain her self control. She didn't want to think about why, she just had to. Had she seen the lights...
Finally the sobs ceased, the tears slowed to trickles and then stopped. After a few hiccups Jean pulled out of the hug and tried to straighten herself up, though she still sat close to her comforter. Sarah gave Jean an embroidered kerchief, along with an understanding smile.
Jean's return smile was watery and tentative, "Ma'am, I'm sorry to..."
"Nonsense, Jean, I won't hear you apologizing for letting go of some of your hurts." Sarah interrupted, once again. "Please, call me Sarah. It seems a good cry is just what you needed, and long overdue. Do you want to talk about what brought these clouds to your eyes?"
The woman, Sarah, seemed so genuine. Jean searched her mind for what she should do, yet her fantastic brain was still stuck in neutral, trying not to think of her troubles. She searched Sarah's face again, and again found kindness and pity. No, not pity, sympathy.
"You started to think of a better time," Sarah prodded.
Jean's smile was grim as she picked up the threads of her thoughts. Desperate to stay clear of That topic, she picked up from her musings on school troubles - a much safer topic.
"I was remembering a school I attended. That was the good, well, better memory." Her mind settled down and her memories of the Academy began to come into focus. She had not shared many details about that time in her life, even with her parents. It seemed odd to open up so much to a stranger; yet Jean realized she had nothing to lose by revealing these troubles to Sarah. While she might not have a counselor's training, there was very little likelihood Jean would ever see the woman again. Logically, this was as good of an opportunity to release the pent up emotions as she might hope for. She had read many times that speaking about your problems was cathartic and helped the mind to heal.
Still, Jean wondered at the level of comfort she felt with this stranger. The girl could not quantify comfort, and that made her shoulders sag a bit, but at the same time she began to speak. Ever the organized mind, she began with the first real troubles she could recall.
"When I was in Primary I had trouble making friends. I was out of place among my own classmates and ended up being made fun of for pretty much everything. I learned to deal with the taunts and bullying; honestly they couldn't even come up with new material – still calling me the same names when we were eight as they used at six years of age." Jean turned her face to Sarah, unconsciously rolling her eyes at the memory. "Everything changed the Christmas of my third year. Right before holidays our class took an aptitude test. That test changed everything."
.o0o.
The results arrived at the Granger home two days after Boxing Day. Jean's anticipation as she opened the packet rivaled that of Christmas itself. She felt she had done very well on the test, yet she worried over a few of the algebraic expressions... and the mass equations... and the history of Phoenician naval battles, well, honestly she was a wreck.
Her parents stood by eagerly as Jean carefully read the tables, handing off one sheet of paper at a time as she interpreted the graphs and looked at the comparative data. Her parents on the other hand took one long look at the first page and tried not to jump up and down while their daughter carefully and methodically studied the whole twelve page document.
"This seems to indicate that I did quite well on my tests." She beamed at her parents.
Jean's understatement brought a chortle from her dad and an amused snort from her mum.
"You scored higher than anyone in your year, fourth year too, only one fifth year and three sixth years tested higher... yes, you did quite well." The laugh Jeans mother held through her speech finally bubbled over at the end.
The very same day the Granger family received three phone calls from prestigious schools wanting Jean to be enrolled in their "progressive learning programs". Another eight called the next day. Two days after that the Granger family sat with a representative of one of the schools, it's name was long and sounded very important, but everyone referred to it as "the Academy". It was both fairly close by and had a student centered curriculum. While tuition was at the upper end of their budget, the combination of location and reputation finally won out over the many other choices.
Jean did not return to her Primary school from Christmas holiday, instead her family enrolled her in the school just outside Oxford. They were just two hours away, yet this was the first time their daughter had been apart from them other than summers with Aunt Jane in the country.
Once settled in at the Academy, Jean quickly came to love the deep immersion in academic pursuits to the exclusion of almost all else. There was just so much to learn, and Jean wanted to learn it all!
The coursework was structured around improving the student, not conforming to an average score. Best of all, she could read all she wanted. During her first year at the Academy that is almost all she did. She read everything from the treaties under negotiation at the U.N. to Homer and Keats. She delved into histories and biographies and relaxed with French poetry. Life was a wondrous journey for the buck-toothed, bushy haired girl who never got teased unless it was because she was reading to herself out loud. For the first time in her life, she was not Different.
Or so she first thought.
She soon had to comfort herself however as things weren't the perfection she had envisioned. While she was certainly not taunted or ridiculed for her intellect at the Academy, she still didn't fit in. Though she related well intellectually with the few students she spoke to, her initial reaction to any overtures of friendship was poorly disguised suspicion. Suspicion born from years of petty jokes played by kids who would pretend to be friends just to play a cruel prank. Logically, she knew these kids were different, but the idea of trust just couldn't overcome her fear of rejection.
That fear began to be the overriding force in her life, causing her to turn away from even "safe relationships" such as study groups. Thinking practically, knowledge didn't reject you, books don't turn their back on you and tests only judged what you knew. So, like many other 'gifted' students at the Academy, she did not participate in any extra-curricular activities. Instead Jean threw herself into her studies, her testing, her collecting of knowledge. Although she occasionally watched the other students together, she couldn't quite take time from the current paper, or homework, or new book, which is what she kept answering if anyone asked, including herself.
Two years later, Jean was 10 years old and already most of the way through her Secondary general studies. Her love of mathematics, politics and literature had her involved in University level courses – even though the work was quite difficult. That was what she enjoyed most about the courses, she might struggle, but she was challenged. It was over those years that she realized just how little school had challenged her until the Academy.
Unfortunately she never realized how little her life had changed with regards to relationships. Though everyone at her new school was intelligent, most of them did not let it hamper activities outside the classroom. Jean was so afraid of rejection she simply never took the chance to make friends. Thus, when things fell apart for her, she had nobody to turn to.
.o0o.
A/N: Reviews feed my muse.
Recommended reading is Banking on Her by robst. It's a great take on Harry turning from the wizarding world and has an excellent ending.
M