Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter cause if I did, Voldie and Bellatrix would be the only ones who died at the end. Some of the bits in this chapter were, quite frankly, taken out of the book (but there was a purpose to it).

xxx

CHAPTER 2: LETTER FROM HOGWARTS

When Rowan entered their house that evening, he was surprised at the sudden silence. Their house was never silent - not since Hermione joined them; it wasn't unusual for him to come home and hear the two most important females in his life loudly chat about politics or cooking. It was particularly hilariously when they mixed the two and Hermione baked cookies with weird faces, naming most of them her army of 'Thatcherites'. What a smart kid, indeed.

Either way, the kitchen seemed rather quiet, so Mr. Winslow-Everett slowly closed the door behind him and strode into the living room.

"Here you are," he finally let out with a weak smile, but he didn't receive any sort of reaction. Thalya and Hermione were hunched over what looked like a book but just a single look told Rowan that something was wrong.

Oh, dammit. Pictures in the book were freaking moving.

"Thalya, what the-"

"Wait," she stopped him before he could go on any further. She then nodded towards Hermione and gave her a nudge. "Come on, show Daddy what you showed me."

"Okay," said Hermione and took a deep breath; the girl was obviously nervous. What if it didn't work this time around? What if it was just a one-time thing?

"Here, can you move this book?"

When her mother placed a bulky book in front of her, Hermione gulped but nodded nonetheless. The subject was much bigger than a simple spoon; what were the possibilities that she would be able to move it with the same effort...

"Oh!" Rowan let out when a muggle book - one of the many they stored at their house - moved on its own. Or, rather, it was moved by Hermione's willpower.

"Have you seen that, Dad?" she asked with a bright smile and received a pat on her head. Even though she only managed to move the book by few centimetres, it still counted, right?

"I've seen that, Hermione. Can I ask you... how long were you able to do this for?"

"I only figured that I can do it today when I moved a spoon on our kitchen table," Hermione elaborated and returned to the book she and her Mum were going through just a few minutes ago. "So this Hogwarts... it's a school of magic?"

"Yes, many witches and wizards enrol in there at the age of eleven. Most of them come from the United Kingdom, as it has been when I went there, but Ministry might have changed the rules and now enables some international wizards to enrol, too," Thalya patiently explained to her, pointing at a certain picture. "That's Hogwarts about a hundred years ago but it looks pretty much the same nowadays."

Rowan shook off his initial shock and numbly sat on the floor next to them. It was a bit of a shocker how calm Thalya seemed to take the news, but maybe the incident happened a few hours ago so she already composed herself?

"It says here that it was formed by four people..."

"Yes, their names are Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. The four of them are known to be the greatest wizards of the time and each possessed particular qualities," Thalya explained, turning the page. There, Hermione saw four portraits of Hogwarts' founders and could tell what kind of people they were just by looking at their gestures.

Godric Gryffindor held a serious look on his face, but his otherwise soft features made him look like a brave, but nice person. Helga Hufflepuff was warmly smiling on her picture and occasionally laughed; Hermione could only think one thing - the woman was generous and loving. Next to her portrait was Rowena Ravenclaw; the fact that that it seemed like she was looking down at everyone around and felt like she was above others, she also seemed extremely smart and intelligent. Hermione had no doubt that she would love to end up like her in the future.

And then there was Salazar Slytherin. His face was much paler than that of his comrades - in fact, it looked like he put some face paint on before the portrait was taken. Out of the four, he looked the most sneaky and cunning, as he was planning something all along.

Thalya explained some more about how they formed houses and how each one of them represented their qualities in a certain way; both Rowan and Thalya laughed when Hermione said with a determined look on her face, "I want to get into Ravenclaw!"

"Hogwarts only accepts students at the age of 11," explained Rowan, repeating what his wife has said a few minutes ago, and turned the page himself. There, in bright golden letters, stood the words: 'Entering criteria and drop-out levels'. "You can view this book as a guide - it will tell you most things you need to know about Hogwarts, but I wouldn't worry about it for now."

"But Dad, I'm entering Hogwarts in less than three years, I have to prepare for this!" exclaimed Hermione as she picked up the book and flopped down on the lounge, with her feet hanging over the edge of the sofa.

Thalya silently motioned Rowan to follow her as she leisurely picked herself up, fixing her dress on her way to the kitchen.

Before facing her husband and explaining to him everything that has happened in the past few hours, she put the kettle on and took out the jar with sugar from the cupboard. She then proceeded to take a seat next to her husband, but not before she managed to grab a wizard magazine from her purse - it wasn't unusual for Thalya to read it while she was waiting for Hermione.

"So," Rowan began and crossed arms on his chest; he restrained himself from tapping the tabletop - it was one of the annoying habits he picked up from his older brother.

"So," Thalya repeated after him. She turned the page and began examining the big picture of Dumbledore that took three-quarters of the left-side page. "I have to say I am rather happy that Hermione turned out to be a witch."

"And?"

"What 'and'? I didn't mind it either way, you know that. Even if Hermione was an ordinary muggle-born, I would still treat her as my own daughter."

Rowan took a deep breath, "You know that's not what I'm talking about."

"No? Then are you asking why I seem so fine with it?" She let out a long sigh. "I don't know, but somehow I-"

"Dammit, Thalya, you know that's know what I'm asking about!" growled Rowan, feeling impatient and irritated. Why was she playing around the bush? "Have you or have you not had anything to do with it? With her sudden outburst of magic"?"

"You're blaming me?" she asked in disbelief and even looked into her husband's eyes. "Me, of all people? You think I went to some greasy and primitive shop and asked for an object that would ensure she can use magic because she wasn't born with it? Is that what you are thinking right now?!"

"Well, I don't know, should I?"

"I thought you were above this!"

"Above what, being generally curious whether my wife had anything to do with it?"

"No, questioning her on the matter as if she were a suspect!"

The next few moments were filled with a strained silence; both marrieds stared at each other and didn't dare to break the eye contact.

Then, Rowan seemed to have found his answer as he looked away and ruffled his hair in resignation. "No, I don't think of you as a suspect."

"You better not, or I will pull my family strings if I have to."

Mr. Winslow-Everett let out a small laugh that reminded most people of dog's barking. "You hate your family - even more so than I hate my own! That's why we got married in the first place."

"Maybe so, but if you continue treating me like this I will take Hermione with me and move away. And you know how good I am at hiding."

Rowan narrowed his eyes, but didn't comment on the matter. It was something from the past and he had no intention of reminding both of the of that incident.

The situation was quickly spinning out of control, so he simply let out a small, "Sorry", only to receive a cold nod.

"Now listen to what exactly happened..."

xxxx

Ever since Hermione found out that she was a wizard, everything around her became new and unknown. Maybe their neighbours were wizards, too, and they were hiding from 'muggles', as her parents referred to people with no magic power - how would she know?

And all these times she saw things around her that couldn't be explained with the use of science... was it magi,c too?

It was a big surprise when, after the day of her 'revelation', her Mum and Dad woke her up for school and asked her to go downstairs to see 'something', with 'something' being hundreds and hundreds of books about wizards, witches and magic world. It felt like an early Christmas present, only much bigger and kept her occupied for months.

For instance, it took her quite some time to process that she was, as some wizards referred to it, an 'elite in the magic world' because she was a pure-blood. There weren't many books on the subject, per se, and her parents were somewhat reluctant in telling her more about the purity of blood.

If there was one thing that confused her about the whole 'blood purity', it was the fact that she wasn't informed of it earlier. It was stated in one of the books that pure-blood couples made sure their offspring inherited their magical knowledge way before they were enrolled into school. It said that pure-blood wizards were taught magic practically from the time they were able to walk - and some even earlier! The only response Hermione was able to receive from her Mum is her and Dad's fear of Hermione turning out a squib as she didn't seem to show any magical abilities earlier.

When she thought about it, it made sense, but there was still some doubt at the back of her mind, pestering her now and then; she did her best at ignoring it and eventually she simply accepted the fact that she was a pure-blood.

She also had to admit to herself that for the first time in her life, reading wasn't the most exciting thing in the world - it was now replaced with practising spells' motions and cooking potions.

Hermione found that she was good in both, but slightly better in spells' incantations which she performed using a simple brook; there were still some uncertainties regarding different ingredients in potion making. For example, when picking up and smelling a certain type of magical grass, she couldn't tell which one of them was it; they all smelled so similar!

Granted, Thalya helped her in potions. She wasn't that great herself (which she admitted after they almost blew up a kitchen and burned two pans) but it wasn't like Hermione was aiming to become the best potion maker in the history of magic in under three years.

Instead, she decided to accomplish it by the end of second year in Hogwarts.

The only down-side of being a wizard was, in fact, its famous type of sport - Quiddich; at least that's what it was seen as to Hermione. She was lucky to get a hold on some tapes and sometimes would sit with her parents, simply watching the latest Quiddich match and mesmerising at the fact that people were able to do that. She wasn't scared of heights - actually, far from it - but the prospect of not having any sort of additional control while you are apparating twenty or so feet over the ground was truly terrifying.

She worked as hard as she could in those two and a half years but not only for magic school - no, she made sure to be at the top of her muggle school, as well. It wasn't as if it mattered to her that much, and neither did it matter to her parents, in all honesty, as her academic success didn't define whether or not she was going to get into Hogwarts. And when asked by her parents why was she still continuing muggle education, she simply told them that she felt like it. Self-satisfaction? Perhaps, but she was willing to pull through with it even if the reason was so insignificant.

So she worked at day and dreamed of Hogwarts at night for years.

During her fifth year of school, she began occasionally dozing off during her lessons and, instead of taking notes and highlighting titles as she usually did, Hermione used spare sheets of paper to write the letter to herself. From Hogwarts.

Ms. H. Winslow-Everett

House 11A

Sylvester Road

Wembley

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

When she showed one of those to her mother, the latter couldn't hold back a good-natured laugh. "Blimey, I bet even Dumbledore himself doesn't remember all of his titles!"

But Hermione did - books told her everything she needed to know about Hogwarts and its staff. For example, she knew that one of them, though it wasn't specified who, was once accused of being comrades with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

The mere mention of the reference to Him made her uneasy for quite some time - that is, after she found out his identity and why everyone referred to him in such a weird manner. It was mostly because she now knew who her Dad referred to in his dreams; who he was so afraid of; who he despised to refused to talk about. And there was also this someone with a scar she had yet to meet, because she was certain: if one part of his dreams turned out to be the truth and not a simple product of his imagination, then there must be someone that had a scar and was somehow related to her Dad.

Either way, there wasn't anything she was worried about, apart from this. Well, that, and the fact that today she was going to meet yet another pure-blood family that her parents were somehow related to. She was used to those meeting - has been to dozens of those - and if she needed to describe her parents' friends in one word, it would be 'snobs'. For some reason, all pure-bloods were extremely full of themselves, and she was oh so glad her parents weren't like this...

"Hermione, did you change, love?" came her mother's voice from downstairs.

"Not yet, Mum!" she shouted back as she struggled with the zip at the back. Finally, she succeeded in zipping it all the way up and quickly proceeded to put on her thin tights. It was early spring of 1991 and the weather outside was still rather windy, but her parents were using Floo Network, so there was no need to even leave the house.

A few moments later she looked into the mirror and tried to fix her fringe, but only let out a frustrated sigh when her hair remained just as messy. There was no helping it, she will have to visit some strangers with a fringe like this.

Hermione opened the door and ran down the stairs, careful as to not rip her tights. The smell of burned wood and powder filled her nose as she entered the room but she was used to travels via Floo Network, hence it wasn't anything unusual.

"Oh, look at our little girl, all grown up and beautiful!" Thalya exclaimed, clapping her hands. Rowan half-turned and smiled at their daughter.

"Mum, stop!" said Hermione and let out a small giggle. "This dress is a bit too big and I feel like I will fall in these tights. Can I at least not wear shoes with small heels?"

Mrs. Winslow Everett chewed on her lower lip and glanced at the said shoes that stood proudly near the fireplace. "Be it any other day, I would have said yes. But today we are visiting a family of very strong, influential and rich pure-blood wizards and wearing something like sandals might cause them to think that we disrespect them in some way."

"I thought you and Dad don't like rich pure-blood wizards?" asked Hermione with an arched eyebrow.

Rowan sighed. "And we don't. We don't see them as our friends but we just want to ensure you and their son won't conflict during your time at school."

"Their son goes there?"

"Not yet, but he will enrol into Hogwarts this autumn, too," explained Thalya. "We don't know yet which House you will be a part of, but just in case you will happen to be in Slytherin..."

Hermione nodded, "And how do you know that he will be in Slytherin?"

"He is a pure-blood and everyone from his family were in Slytherin; it is only expected," said Thalya and took out a jar with Floo powder. "Now, put on your shoes and step into the fireplace. Me and your Dad will follow you soon after."

She sighed but did as she was told, slightly wobbling because of the heels, never mind how minor they were. She then took some of the powder from the said jar, struggling not to sneeze.

"Remember, nice and loud," said Thalya with a smile.

"Malfoy Manor!"

xxxx

She happened to have read about Wiltshire before. It was a lovely place that was both muggle- and wizard-occupied. However, she didn't have a luxury of exploring it, for she was teleported right to the manor. Maybe it was for the better, though, seeing as the trees outside kept shaking, thanks to the heavy wind.

It appeared that she was in the kitchen, if dozens of house-elves who kept running around with pans and other cutlery was any indicator. The smell that filled the kitchen wasn't unpleasant, but in Hermione's opinion it was a bit too strong. The smell of every single dish was mixed together, only to form a cacophony of the overall sweetness and bitterness.

She got a hold of one of the elves and asked him where were Malfoys waiting for them. The latter shook under her gaze and hurriedly replied, "They are waiting for you in the living room! Only take two turns to the right and you will be there, M-Miss."

Hermione nodded and looked at the fireplace, waiting for her parents and feeling kind of bad for the incident before. In her whole life, she has never actually met an elf, hence she had no idea how to act around them. Many of the books about house-elves stated that they were no more than mere servants and that the point of their whole existence was to serve wizards. She herself thought that it was rather wrong and inhuman - how can you treat whole species as nothing more but servants? Her parents, however, told her that it was this way for a long time, so there was no need in changing anything. They also said that house-elves enjoyed being ordered around and that they saw no point in living without it. Was it actually true, though? She would have to ask a house-elf sometime in the future, then.

Quiet crackling in the fireplace alarmed her and she turned around, seeing as both of her parents emerged from a bright-green fire. Thalya began vigorously shaking off any possible dust from her brown hair, while Rowan looked down at his black trousers and groaned: they were practically covered in powder!

"I already asked one of the elves when Malfoys are," said Hermione with a proud smile.

"Jolly good. Shall we go, then?" Mrs. Winslow-Everett asked when all of the dust was gone. Her husband gave her a nod after he used a simple cleaning spell to get rid of the powder.

"Let's present ourselves in the best possible way," he said and offered a hand for his wife, which she took hold of a second later. "Hermione, walk by our side and tell us the directions."

She hummed and began walking by her Mum's side, struggling not to fall down in the damn heels.

They finally arrived at the living room not two minutes later and were quite surprised upon being met by only three people; in all honesty, they expected to seem some of their relatives and, perhaps, some rich friends.

"Winslow-Everett, how nice that you have finally arrived," the head of the family - Lucius Malfoy - said with an all-knowing smile. Hermione thought of a sneaky snake - that's what he reminded her of. "Please, take a seat. The food will arrive in a few moments."

Hermione followed her parents. Rowan sat at the opposite head of the table with Hermione to his right and Thalya to his left; because the table was so big, they and Malfoys were separated by at least eleven seats.

"Are we late, Lucius?" asked Rowan in a bored voice.

"No, you arrived just in time, though if you were to follow a simple etiquette, you would have arrived earlier or called beforehand to see if anything got cancelled," said Lucius and pointed at his wife. "But enough about this, let me introduce my family. This is my lovely wife, Narcissa."

"A pleasure to meet you," said Thalya with a weak smile.

"The pleasure is all mine," came Narcissa's monotone reply.

"And this is my son, Draco. He will get a letter from Hogwarts in a few months and become a part of Slytherin, just as all of his ancestors did."

Draco - a small boy with unnaturally blond hair - didn't seem all too pleased to meet them. Hermione wasn't too sure, as he sat on the other side of the table and his face was nothing but a blur, but his overall guarded body language told her so.

"Oh, then let me introduce my family," said Rowan after a pause. "I'm sure both of you know my wife, Thalya. And this is our daughter, Hermione."

"Hermione, hmm? What an unusual name," noted Narcissa as she examined the small girl with a bushy hair. "Is she going too attend Hogwarts this autumn, too?"

"But of course," came Thalya's hurried response as she looked at her daughter. "She has been practising for years and as soon as we buy her a wand, she will show everyone in Hogwarts just how good she really is."

Adults continued having a general conversation about what they expected their kids to achieve, as well as discussing the latest news, but Hermione wasn't interested in it one bit. Instead, she began eating as soon as the food arrived and kept glancing at the boy - Draco, wasn't it?

He didn't seem to like the food, or perhaps he just wasn't hungry, but either way he didn't take a single bite of his steak and continued sitting at the table, stabbing the piece of meat with his fork. Hermione wasn't so careless - besides, she was a bit hungry - so she tried what she was offered and wasn't disappointed.

The rest of the dinner went in a similar manner and when they were finished, Lucius and Rowan advised their children to go on and play somewhere else while 'adults have their adult conversation'. Hermione didn't mind and Draco seemed openly bored, so they left the living room.

"Where are we going?" she asked him a few minutes later of simply following suit.

"To my room - there isn't any other place in the manor where we can be without my parents being displeased with it," said Draco with a shrug and, after a pause, looked back at her. "I don't know why I should tolerate you."

Hermione's eyebrow twitched, "You don't need to tolerate me. Just tell me the way to an empty room and I can be left on my own. I will tell my parents that me and you had a decent conversation."

"Sorry, that I can't do," he said and motioned towards the portraits on the wall. "See those? They previously lived in the Malfoy Manor and they support my parents, so they will tell my Mum and Dad that I didn't treat you like a guest. And I was told that I have to."

Silence.

"Why are you being so rude? I haven't even done anything to you!" said Hermione as they reached his room and entered.

"It's not the matter of whether or not you do," said Draco exasperatedly and gave her an arrogant smile. "Do you really think my parents invited your family here to have a nice chat or something?"

"Why else would they invite us?"

"Pff, and they said you are at the top of your class and know more about magic than some wizards far older than you do," he snickered and sat down on an armchair, crossing arms on his chest. "Otherwise, you are completely clueless, aren't you?"

Hermione took a deep breath and thought of it for a moment, "I can imagine what you are thinking. You probably think that your parents wanted to show you just how smart some wizards of your age are and that you should be careful or I will be the one at the top of all of my classes."

Draco squinted his eyes and chuckled. "So I do, but they don't have anything to worry about. It doesn't matter that we are both pure-bloods - I will be better than you in everything and you will be left speechless because I don't have to study as much as most people do. I'm just naturally smart."

"Yeah, if you say so, oh Great Draco," she joked, rolling her eyes. When he didn't respond, she looked around the room and noted how clean it was. "Did your parents made you clean it before we arrived?"

"Heh, maybe your parents do that, but my parents make sure everything is cleaned all the time, in case someone comes to our house," he answered and pointed at the second armchair. "There. Sit."

"Are you ordering me around, Malfoy?"

"I could, seeing as we are in my house and I'm being a gentleman, Winslow-Everett, but I just feel bad for your shoes."

When she gave him a confused look, he expanded on his answer, "Don't think I haven't realised that you can barely walk in these. No wonder - what kind of shoes would hold all this fat?"

She gasped and bared her teeth at him, "You didn't just-"

"What? Told you the truth?" he said with a smirk. "Yeah, you are a bit on a fat side. I don't think that last piece of steak was necessary."

"It's better being fat than having bleached hair," she said in response; in muggle school, she was often teased for being a 'bookworm' because she always studied and didn't go out, so she knew how to respond to the bullies. Ignoring them never helped.

Draco looked at her as if she just grew a second head, "Bleached? This is my natural hair colour!"

"Yeah, kind of makes you look like a ferret," said Hermione on a finishing note and left his room with a loud slam.

If only she knew that it was first of many meeting she had yet to encounter with Draco.

xxxx

After that 'awful' dinner they attended in Malfoy Manor in spring, Hermione refused to visit any more of her parents' friends. They kept telling her that not all pure-blood family were as bad as Malfoys, but she refused again and again. God, she even had a nightmare that Lucius and Narcissa were her parents and Draco was her older brother who kept throwing Licorine Snaps at her, all the while laughing like some crazy lunatic.

But then came summer and she forgot everything about Malfoys and the upsetting events that took place in the spring.

Because it meant that she was about to receive a letter from Hogwarts. And she had to say 'goodbye' to everyone in her muggle school as it was unlikely she would ever meet them again.

Essentially, it meant that she was able to do as she willed without getting into trouble. So waking up on the last day of school was amazing.

She came to school earlier than usual and strode down the corridor, commenting on everyone's uniform: skirt too short, greasy tie, dirty shoes, undone shirt. Literature lesson, however, was by far the best: she simply sat on her desk and read her favourite book. And that was it. She didn't listen to her teacher's 'We should be examining a poem, Ms. Winslow-Everett', nor did she pay attention to her classmates' whispers.

Yes, by far it was the best day in school.

"You seem really happy. Did something good happen in school today?" asked Mrs. Winslow-Everett when she picked up her daughter from school.

"Mmm, maybe," she said cheerfully and began skipping.

The next week or so was spent in anticipation. Hermione read every single book that they owned and practised the motions for every spell that first years would ever need.

And when on nineteenth of July, instead of being woken up by her annoying clock, she woke up to something knocking in her window, she already knew what was happening even before opening her eyes.

Yep, it was an own, trying to get into her room.

She quickly jumped off the bed and opened the window, in order to let the owl to fly in. The own was black with a few grey feathers, but grey didn't make her look any less majestic.

Hermione didn't waste any time and took the envelope from the owl's beak. Her heart rate increased when she saw a Hogwarts' emblem at the back, along with its logo. On the other side of the envelope she saw that it was indeed addressed to her.

Ms. H. Winslow-Everett,

The Room On The Second Floor,

11A, Sylvester Road,

Wembley

If it were any other envelope, she would have went and picked up a knife or scisors to carefully open it, but it was no ordinary letter, so she ripped the seal open at once and carefully took out the letter.

Dear Mrs. Winslow-Everett,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Your sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

She let out a loud scream and ran down the stairs, holding tightly onto the letter in her hands and completely forgetting about the own in her room.

"Mum, Dad, I go my letter!" she shouted, knowing that her parents were at the kitchen even before she was able to pick up on the strong smell of omelette and cheese. "Look, it has Hogwarts' emblem, too!"

Thalya clasped her hands and gave her daughter a big hug, "Now we can get ready for school!"

"And don't forget to send a letter back, stating that you accept the offer," said Rowan, sipping his morning coffee. "A lot of first-years forget about it and it often results in someone bursting into their house and demanding why did they forget to send a letter back."

"I know! I will write a letter back after breakfast," said Hermione and sat on a chair next to her Dad. She put the letter right next to her empty glass and kept staring at the piece of parchment, while her mother was filling up her plate.

"So when are we going to buy all the supplies you need for school?" Thalya enquired after she was finished and took a seat next to her husband.

"I didn't check what we need to buy," Hermione admitted with a bit of shame and quickly flipped to the attached pages.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set of glass or crystal phials

1 telescope set

1 brass scales

Students may also bring an own OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

Your sincerely,

Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions

"Ah, Lucinda? I remember her," said Rowan, reading over his daughter's shoulder.

"You've met her?" gasped Hermione in disbelief. "But Dad, she is the Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions - she makes a specific list of what everyone should be provided with!"

"I don't see what's so exciting about it, to be honest," came Thalya's comment as she chewed on her bacon. "There is still a wizard committee that checks everything she enlists. Quite frankly, there is no point of having her, other than to write someone's name at the bottom of the paper."

Hermione didn't say anything and only looked down at the list once again. She was allowed to have an animal, right? But which one...

Toads seemed boring and pretty useless, if she were to be honest, even if they were magical - you had to constantly make sure they don't run away, as well as dealing with their guttural croaking. So, it was between cats and owls.

She tapped her finger on the tabletop and leisurely chewed her omelette, grabbing some ketchup from the cupboard and generously pouring it over her bacon. When she received questioning looks from her parents, she simply replied with, "I'm starving!" and resumed eating.

Cats were balls of fur, friendly and lazy; owls, on the other hand, were usually out of their cages, flying wherever they wanted and enjoying their freedom. Which one of them suited her more?

"Cats. Definitely cats," said Thalya off-handedly as she picked her empty plate and placed it in the sink. Hermione blink once, twice, and looked at her mother in disbelief. Wait, did she just read her mind?

"Your mother is a good Legilimens," Rowan explained to her. Hermione thought back to the definition of 'Legilimens' and nodded, still feeling rather hazy due to receiving a letter from Hogwarts.

"But isn't Legilimency basically intruding into someone else's mind?" she asked after a moment. She could remember quite clearly that there were certain rules that prohibited it in certain situations. "It's not like it's against the law, but it's still not something you should do just because, Mum."

"Oh, I know that, alright," said Mrs. Winslow-Everett with a thoughtful expression on her face and then muttered, "Dumbledore told me that more times than I can remember, though he never did it willingly. It was always McGonagall that urged him to talk to me about it."

Rowan snickered but masked it under a fit of coughs. Now that wasn't something Hermione has heard about before, but she wasn't going to press the matter, "Why do you think that I should get a cat?"

Thalya didn't respond straight away, "I imagine you will need someone to look after you during your first year in Hogwarts."

"Mum, I'm already eleven, soon to be twelve!"

"Okay, I didn't mean it like that. What I was trying to say is... you just need someone by your side. For comfort. Owls represent freedom and they would rather prefer to fly than stay in a cage, no matter how loving their owner might be."

Hermione nodded, but she still wasn't convinced.

"Alright then, how about we travel to the Diagon Alley and find out which animal she would rather prefer?" asked Rowan, talking to his wife. She arched her eyebrow but he only shrugged. "I can miss one day of work."

"So you can," she muttered to herself but sighed in resignation. "Then, it's decided. Hermione, quickly take a shower - we will be waiting for you in the car. And don't forget to close the main door."

Hermione got on her feet in less than a second and ran towards her room, "I'll be done in five minutes!"

She slightly regretted the fact that she forgot to wash her hair the day before and now it looked like a bird's nest, but they were going to a place, packed with wizards and witches, and she doubted anyone would actually pay attention to something as minor as this.

She spent good two minutes after her shower, picking the right clothes, but she ended up with wearing a dark-brown top and light jeans. Not the worst things from her wardrobe, to be fair.

When she was about to leave the house in a hurry, she grabbed her notebook in the living room and dashed out, as if someone was after her.

"Well done, this was quicker than I expected," said Mr. Winslow-Everett and his wife only rolled her eyes and gave out an exasperate sigh.

"There was no need for you to hurry so much, we've got plenty of time," she amended with a soft smile and watched as her daughter locked the door. "I've got your letter, hun."

"Yeah, I know," she said and got into their car. It soon took off.

The weather was unnaturally hot for London. Everyone expected it to be a bit breezy, but instead it was full-on 30 degrees Celsius. Hermione even regretted that she didn't wear one of her skirts but alas they were already approaching their final destination - at least that's what Rowan said to her - so there was no point complaining about it now.

When they finally pulled off, Hermione looked at her parents in confusion. She expected there to be some grand opening that only wizards could see, but instead...

"Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione," said Thalya, motioning towards a small pub that was surrounded by far greater buildings. It appeared that Hermione was right in one thing, though: it seemed that muggles simply couldn't see it as their gaze slid off one of the shops and went straight to the nearby restaurant. The little pub was ignored.

"Is it some kind of an entrance?" she asked cautiously.

Her parents exchanged glances but didn't say anything; Rowan simply made sure he locked the car's door and urged Hermione to follow him.

They entered the pub and it just supported what Hermione thought of it in the first place - a small, dirty pub that smelled like a mixture of alcohol and smoke.

The Leaky Cauldron was nothing but a stereotypical pub, at the first glance, and Hermione simply wished they got out of it as soon as possible. In her life, she has never been to one of those (obviously) and wasn't eager to visit them any time soon, either.

She looked around and saw all sorts of people, though most of them were middle-aged man who drank pint after pint. However, she found it fascinating how different they were from each other - perhaps, different species; some of them almost touched the ceiling even though they were sitting, while others barely reached the height of a chair.

"Anything to drink, Rowan?" came a loud question from behind, which made Hermione jump from surprise.

"Tom! Long time no see!" two men exchanged a hug. "Nah, I'm alright, mate - just going to Diagon Alley with my wife and daughter. Hermione finally got a letter from Hogwarts."

"Ahh, it seems like you will be spending a lot of money today, huh?" Tom said jokingly, to which Mr. Winslow-Everett replied with an eye roll.

"Don't even get me started. Well, at least first-years don't need their own broomsticks, or I would have to organise charity and all that."

The two laughed and soon Rowan led them out of the pub, but not through the main entrance - instead, he headed towards pub's emergency exit.

Hermione was finally able to breath in some fresh air when the left the building. It was a small space behind the pub but it was for a small group of people. She located a few trash cans, however they didn't produce any smell, as one would expect.

"Tom seemed eager to see you? Did something happen during your previous encounter?" asked Thalya in a 'I-don't-really-care-but-I-might-as-well-ask' tone.

"You can say so," he said and wet his lips. "Alright..."

Rowan counted the bricks in the wall above one of the trash cans.

"Three up and two across, wasn't it?" he addressed to his wife.

"Yes, as far as I remember," she said back.

"Good. Hermione, come and stand here." He then tapped the wall exactly three times with his wand. Bricks around that that point began quivering and soon a small hole appeared in the wall. It slowly expanded and soon it was big enough to fit a tall person.

Hermione stepped out and stood in awe, trying to take everything in. After all, it was something that she has wished to see for years but didn't have any reason to visit with her parents.

"This," said Thalya after stepping over the remaining bricks, "is Diagon Alley."

xxxx

Note 1 - Thank you so much for your comments and support! Yay, it seems like my general idea wasn't that bad, though I say general - there is much more to it that just Hermione's upbringing.

Note 2 - I skipped quite a few years in these two chapters, didn't I? But fear not, now I will do my best in describing Hermione's life in Hogwarts without skipping much (except for rare occasions). Oh, and why would Hermione wake up early during holidays? I imagine she would use this time to study and practice.

Note 3 - For some reason, I just can't imagine Draco and Hermione being all friendly when they met for the first time, even if the two were pure-bloods. They are just way too competitive, you know? But the story is Definitely DM/HG, don't worry. And leave a review, if you can :)

P.S. Do you like the length of my chapters (~6k) or would you like them to be longer (sorry, can't find it in myself to make them shorter haha)? My personal preference is 8k-9k, just saying.