Do not adjust your screens. This is Megamatt09 writing a story where Hermione Granger is the central character. Although, it's a very alternate universe version of Hermione Granger. And there are some morally dubious things that will be taking place in this story which should be condemned if they existed in real life. Given this version of Hermione is very isolated and lonely, and this version of Harry is dark and very manipulative, so take a wild guess where this may be heading.

Also, Hogwarts starts at fourteen in this universe, for reasons which have everything to do with smut.

Chapter One

One could be forgiven if they forgot Hermione Granger existed. For the simple fact she kept her head down, mouth shut, went about her business, and lived a rather unremarkable life as a student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She completed her assignments, and did not draw attention to herself. At least she did not for a very long time.

In another life, in another world, in another reality, Hermione Granger would be noticed. She would be celebrated as someone remarkable. But in her life, her world, and her reality, Hermione Granger just simply was there. And no one looked towards her.

Everyone looked past her. And she did nothing to correct that fact.

A little over three years ago, Hermione Granger learned she was a witch. She had been bubbling over with excitement about a brand new world of knowledge waiting to be consumed. Hermione could not wait to show off what she could do when she stepped into this brave new world.

She walked into a new world ready to impress. She read every book she could get her hands on. The fourteen, nearly fifteen, year old witch was ready to start her first year at Hogwarts, and show the world what she could do.

Hermione tried to show them exactly what she knew. They scorned her. Belittled her. Mocked her, mocked her for being a know-it-all. For the first couple of months of school, Hermione tried to impress her classmates, although bit by bit her self confidence had been chipped away.

It happened in Charms class around Halloween. Hermione did it. She pulled off an impressive bit of magic, the levitation spell. A perfect Wingardium Leviosa and Hermione thought they should be impressed. It was kind of cool to see that feather just levitate so smoothly.

Only, one of her classmates belittled her, mocked her, and called her a know-it-all. And pretty much said this is the reason why she had no friends.

Hermione ran off to the nearest toilet and finally broke. She remained isolated for almost the entire weekend before someone noticed her. She could not bring herself to tell anyone why she had been driven into that bathroom. And it was Hermione who had gotten reprimanded for being out of bounds by that fifth year Gryffindor prefect, Weasley, and sentenced to detention.

To add to the insult, Hermione returned to find all of her books burned. She was beyond hysterical now. Hermione went to her head of house to report the vandalism. The Head of House said they would look into a matter.

Almost a week later, the culprit confessed and replaced Hermione's books. Another prefect in Gryffindor was the person behind it. That was shocking to say the very least.

By Christmas, Hermione finally made a decision to stop putting in so much effort. None of them were going to be impressed with her. Very rarely did Hermione speak to anyone, and they did not go out of their waay to speak to her.

Second year passed and then third year passed. Hermione Granger made no friends and interacted very little with anyone. The young witch did not even have her parents sign the Hogsmeade permission form. Any kind of social interactions she wished to avoid. Her grades were around the Exceeds Expectation level. Hermione felt that was more than acceptable for her.

She took only two electives, Arithmancy and Study of Ancient Runes. Subjects where few would notice her.

Hermione's best life was a life of being practically invisible to the world. She enjoyed studying magic, although not as much as she did. Hermione Granger took care never to reveal any information she had.

Hermione's mother, Charlotte, told Hermione she had nothing to prove to those people and Hermione should just be herself, and people should like her for that. It was easy for her mother to say. Charlotte Granger was a stunningly gorgeous woman, extremely social and brilliant, and had the tendency to brighten up the room. She had no problem making friends and getting people to like her.

Hermione got the worst aspects of her father. The hair, the teeth, the social anxiety, and the lack of people skills. At least Hermione thought she was a bit less of a pushover than David Granger was, who let his parents, Hermione's grandparents, pretty much walk over him like a doormat at every turn.

Still, she did not need friends. Really.

Today, Hermione entered her fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Seventeen, almost eighteen years old, and looking at some of the other girls in her year group flared up Hermione's insecurities. While Hermione would not call herself ugly, she would not turn any heads.

The opening feast of her fourth year saw Hermione Jean Granger sitting at the furthest edge of the Gryffindor table. Where she could turn to the right and avoid any eye contact. Lonely and forgotten and awaiting the first-years to arrive for the sorting. More students to avoid, lovely.

Hermione found herself with enough room to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

"Hermione Granger."

The sound of her name caused Hermione to almost jump in surprise. No one had spoken to her, other than to call roll since her first year. An attractive redhaired witch looked at Hermione. Ginevra Rakepick, formally Weasley, gazed at her. Still had the redhair, although it was more auburn than ginger. She dressed in a very flattering set of robes which showcased her assets. Looking at a girl a year younger than her, who looked more developed than her, did wonders for Hermione's already high insecurities.

"Can I help you?" Hermione asked.

"I'm here to help you," Ginevra told her. "Be gracious."

"I'm sorry, but, I don't know what this is all about."

"Harry Potter has requested your presence tomorrow night," Ginevra told her.

This news caused Hermione to be thrown for a loop. Harry Potter, the hero of Hogwarts and the Wizarding world, had requested the presence of humble and irrelevant Hermione Granger. Harry Potter, the Harry Potter, who could get any witch to follow him to the ends of the Earth just by snapping his fingers, requested her presence? Hermione only shared one conversation with Harry, bumping into him on the initial train ride to Hogwarts. And the memory of that encounter made Hermione want to learn a good vanishing spell and disappear for good.

"Harry Potter wants to see me?" Hermione asked.

"Are there any other Hermione Grangers at Hogwarts?" Ginevra asked.

"No," Hermione said.

"Then he wants to see you," Ginerva said curtly.

"You have to be joking," Hermione mumbled.

"This is not a joking matter," Ginevra said. "Harry Potter wishes to see you. Seven in the evening on the seventh floor, tomorrow night. Or do you think you have anywhere else important you have to be?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Good, you will show up at seven in the evening, tomorrow night," Ginevra told Hermione. "Do not disappoint by being late."

The younger witch left without another word. And left Hermione opening the note and reading it. It was what Ginevra said. Seven o'clock. On the seventh floor. Hermione's stomach did a flip. And Harry Potter, the most handsome boy, no man, in her year and in all of Hogwarts wanted to meet with her. The most powerful, most well-sought after wizard, with so many witches falling at his feet, he had a big enough path to cross the largest body of water wanted to speak with her.

Why?

It had to be a joke, right? Hermione racked her brain to try and figure out why they would pull such a cruel prank on her. Why would Ginevra Rakepick do such a thing? She was nothing like any of her former brothers. And yet, the fact Harry Potter wanted to see Hermione Granger, she could not believe it. It had to be some way to set her up to humiliate her. What did she do?

Harry Potter could not want to see her.

But, what if he did? What if for some reason he did? What if Hermione could suspend her disbelief and feel that Harry Potter wanted to see her?

This had to be a joke. But, what if it was not?

If Hermione went, she could have been set up for a big humiliation. Or maybe they wanted a virgin sacrifice. God knows she was qualified.

Okay, maybe being used as a virgin sacrifice for some dark ritual was a bridge too far.

What if it was real? Oh, what if it was real? If she decided not to show up because she was paranoid about being humiliated, she could very well offend Harry Potter. It would mean the end of any hope she could have for a good future in the Wizarding World.

Well, if Hermione got humiliated, then it was going to be over and done with quickly. But, offending someone as powerful as Harry Potter and his friends, that could last for an entire lifetime. As short as it may be.

Hermione had to go.

What would she say though? What would she do? What should she wear? Oh, Hermione had nothing to wear when meeting a wizard the calibre of Harry Potter. Hermione really wished she was closer to her two roommates, Lavender and Parvati. Being so fashion-oriented, they could help her out.

The price of self-imposed social isolation was a high one, although Hermione did it to avoid the hurt.

A small part of Hermione Granger wondered if she had twenty-four hours to live before she died of embarrassment.

And there he was. Harry Potter? The golden child of the Slytherin House. Flanked by the Queen Bees of Slytherin themselves, Lyra Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass. Girls which caused Hermione's insecurities to fly through the roof. They were beautiful and perfect,and boy did they ever fucking know it.

Harry Potter did not look her way. Why would Hermione even entertain the delusion he would? And Hermione tried to discreetly look their way without them noticing her.

In Hermione's mind's eye, she recalled the only meeting with Harry Potter so far. A boy in her year, Neville, lost his pet toad. Hermione burst into a compartment, which contained Harry Potter and some of his friends. And being the hyperactive motormouth she was three years ago, Hermione sprouted off all of the books she read about Harry Potter in. Harry looked bemused, while the others looked at Hermione like she just stepped in something smelly.

She was mocked. Mocked and jeered that she thought she knew everything, because someone in a book told her so. Hermione crumpled at the thought, as Malfoy and Greengrass were among the two who jeered her the hardest. They told her that she could not understand anything, if she needed a book to give her opinion.

The type of girls Hermione's mother told her she did not need the approval of. Hermione could not seek their approval at all.

But, she would not necessarily mind it if she received it.

No, she did not need it.

But, damn, Hermione wanted it.

She did not need it.

Even though she wanted it.

She did not need it.

She did need it.

Damn it, that note had her mind all over the place.

Hogwarts really was a magical place. Hermione thought of the stars. The Sorting went on. Hermione was glad everyone's attention was on the first-years coming in and not her.

Not that anyone's attention would ever be on her.

Student after student sorted and then the opening feast came. Hermione ate her dinner in solitude. Ate and thought. Story of her life.

"Good evening. Now that you're properly fed, I will have your attention."

Hermione's eyes turned in the direction of the Hogwarts Headmistress, Patricia Rakepick. The most celebrated and powerful witch in the world, beloved and celebrated, for her part in rescuing the hero of the wizarding world, Harry Potter, from his hateful Muggle relatives. An arrangement which caused Albus Dumbledore, the disgraced former Hogwarts Headmaster, to be exiled from the Wizarding World, magic bound and memories of the world erased. Given how Dumbledore had been responsible for two dark lords and condemning their hero to a fate worse than death, it was more than that senile old fool deserved.

Sirius Black had been pardoned from Azkaban once evidence came to light. Bartemius Crouch Senior, Peter Pettigrew, and Severus Snape were all executed for high crimes of treason against the Wizarding World, by the newly selected Minister of Magic, Katerina Zabini, who helped Patricia Rakepick rescue their hero from his vile relatives.

Patricia Rakepick had been the legal guardian of Harry Potter since the age of seven. And he had flourished well underneath the mentorship of the extremely skilled curse-breaker. The lightning scar which was upon his forehead had long since faded.

And Hermione would note, simply beautiful, stunning and powerful, the kind of witch which Hermione aspired to be. Well her and Minister Zabini, Hermione aspired to be even a fraction as beautiful and powerful as they would. Hermione would not even entertain the possibility of being mentioned in the same sentence as such witches.

Hermione also included their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and Slytherin Head of House, Merula Snyde, and the Potions Professor, Penny Haywood, in the category of witches she would aspire to be like, but new she had no chance of ever attaining their level of greatness. Hermione found herself extremely flushed at the thought of both their power and their beauty.

"I am pleased to announce the return of the Triwizard Tournament this year," Professor Rakepick stated. "I have taken the liberty to hand select a small group of students who I feel are most qualified and will be entering the names on their behalf into the Goblet of Fire personally. The Goblet of Fire will be monitored with strict around the clock security, therefore anyone from Hogwarts who attempts to enter their name without my consent, will be strictly punished. If anyone wishes to appeal a case of why they think I should present their name to the Goblet for selection, you may file a request. Although, I have all of the information I need to make an informed decision. If you are qualified and wish to abstain, I will be disappointed, but I will accept your wishes all of the same."

Everyone nodded. Hermione thought about entering the Triwizard Tournament. It would be interesting to be part magical history. The fantasy was soon crushed by stone cold reality.

"And some of you are no doubt daydreaming about entering," Rakepick said. "I don't need a dreamer as Hogwarts champion. I want a doer. We are going to prove that despite Albus Dumbledore driving the reputation of this school into the ground, Hogwarts is still the golden standard. Therefore, only the best and brightest will be up to enter."

"Betcha ten galleons Potter is the only one she's submitting to the Goblet," a fifth-year Gryffindor muttered. "The prized golden prince."

"Mr. Jefferies, perhaps you would like to repeat that for the benefit of those who did not hear it?" Rakepick asked.

"Nothing, Professor," Jefferies said.

"Well, you can think about nothing, in detention for the next month," Rakepick said. "Report to the kitchens starting tomorrow night. The house elves will be pleased to have the extra help."

Jefferies said nothing else. Smart of him, Hermione mused.

"Classes will begin on time in the morning," Rakepick said. "Tardiness is not accepted. Prefects, leave with the first years. I expect the best out of all of you this year. We will not be outclassed."

Everyone went off. Hermione lagged behind them, the note still in her hand. And still thinking about everything.

What if this was a joke? And at the same time, what if it was not?"

The next day seemed to drag on and gave Hermione more time to doubt the request was authentic.

"Okay, Granger," Hermione murmured. "You're going. Don't try and talk yourself out of it."

"Not talking to anyone has caused you to break, hasn't it? You're talking to yourself."

Hermione spun around and came face to face with a squat ghost, a girl with glasses, who stared at Hermione with a flicker of a smile.

"Myrtle, right?" I asked.

"Yes, and you were the girl who cried for three days before anyone noticed," Myrtle said.

Hermione flinched.

"Sorry," Myrtle said. "Are you here to cry again? It's okay. I won't tell."

"I've got a note," Hermione said. "And they told me to meet Harry Potter."

"Oooh!" Myrtle cooed. "Harry Potter. The most majestic, magnificent, marvelous, magician in the entire school? You got a note to see him?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "But, I don't know if it's true. It could be some practical joke."

"It could be," Myrtle said. "A really rotten one. But, you should go anyway. The worst that's going to happen is you are going to want to die of embarrassment. And you can't die of embarrassment. You can die because you accidentally saw a Basilisk in the girl's toilets when you were crying your eyes out. Because you were embarrassed. But directly, you can't die of embarrassment."

"I guess I can't."

"The only thing you have to lose is your dignity," Myrtle said. "Your self-respect. Your will to live. But, I haven't had any of those things for a long time, so I personally think they're overrated."

"Um, right," Hermione said. "I'm going."

"Good, you really should," Myrtle said. "I would kill to get an invitation to meet Harry Potter."

"You would, wouldn't you?" Hermione asked.

"Murder."

"Right."

Hermione was going to slowly back away from the deranged and hormonal ghost. Hogwarts legend said that Myrtle died during her period, which would explain a lot about her.

Oh, Hermione wanted to throw up. Each step towards the seventh floor and each second to seven o'clock made her feel tied in knots.

"Granger."

"Professor Snyde!"

The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and Head of Slytherin house eyed her. Oh, Hermione could not believe that Merula Snyde was talking to her. Other to than ask she was present, naturally.

"You have a note?" she asked Hermione.

"Yeah, right here."

Hermione placed the note in Professor Snyde's hand. Hermione could feel herself being judged by the beautiful and talented teacher.

"Very well, you may pass," she told her.

"This isn't a joke, then?"

"It's not a laughing matter," Professor Snyde told her. "Ginevra told you that it was serious, didn't she?"

"She did."

"Don't embarrass yourself."

Hermione stepped over and noticed another witch waiting in the corridor. She was a dreamy looking blonde witch. Hermione recognized her vaguely.

"It's your turn, as well, isn't it?" she asked dreamily.

"Um, I'm here because of…"

"His note," she said. "I'm Luna Lovegood."

"And I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione said.

"Yes, you are," Luna agreed. "You do tend to draw attention to yourself by trying to not stand out. Which is why I stand out as much as possible. Makes people leave me sometimes."

"Right," Hermione said. "So, you got the same note?"

"I did," Luna agreed.

"Do you know why?"

Hermione got a good look at Luna. When you remove all of the eccentricies and the weird fashion choices, she was the picture perfect blonde.

"Should we really question why?" Luna asked.

"Well, yes…"

"Don't spoil this for yourself," Luna said. "We're in this together. Perhaps we can become like friends. Or perhaps we can just laugh at how foolish we are thinking we could belong. Regardless, it is an experience we can share."

Hermione caught a glimpse of a pair of Slytherin twins making their way up the steps. Hestia and Flora Carrow dressed in short, hip hugging skirts, nylon stockings, and tops which stretched around their chests. Dark hair as black as midnight and violet eyes, along with perfect alluring cheek bones and nice rosy lips. They moved in perfect harmony, not a step out of sync with each other.

"We're not late?" Hestia asked.

"No, sister, we are on time," Flora said. "See? The cherries are here."

Hermione scrunched up her nose. What were they talking about?

"I love cherries," Luna said dreamily.

"We do as well, Luna Lovegood, and they are ripe for the picking," Hestia said. "Right this way, Hermione Granger."

"And you as well, Luna Lovegood," Flora said.

"Harry Potter will be here?" Hermione asked.

"Eager," Hestia said. "It is nearly seven."

"But Harry Potter is never late," Flora said.

"He arrives precisely the second when everything is ready," Hestia said.

Hestia and Flora looked over Hermione and caused her to flush.

"A challenge," Flora said.

"I love a challenge."

"I can just pinch her cheeks."

"And not just the ones on her face."

"Take a seat."

"And by that I mean, sit down and not literally remove a chair from the room, Luna Lovegood."

Hestia and Flora smiled at Luna who was in the process of picking up a chair. Luna smiled and sat down and hummed elevator music.

Hermione sat down. The sweet floral scent filling the room made Hermione feel more relaxed. Two other witches joined Hermione and Luna. Third years by the looks of things, although they had not been introduced to Luna or Hermione.

"Drink the tea," Flora offered.

"It's his specialty," Hestia said. "His special tea."

Hermione had been visited with a strange thought, but she squashed it down. Not wanting to be the odd one out, she joined Luna and the two other mystery witches in sipping the tea.

Where was Harry Potter?

"Patience," Hestia said. "Breathe. And take it all in."

Hermione tried to calm herself in. But, she still could not shake the feeling that something was not quite right.

The state of euphoria the tea put Hermione in caused her to relax and calm herself.

"Another cup, I believe," Flora said.

They drank the tea for another hour. Flora and Hestia smiled at them.

"And now, it's time for you to return to bed," Flora said.

Wait? Hermione sat here for an hour drinking tea expecting to see Harry Potter.

"It would be unwise to be caught out after curfew by Professor Rakepick," Hestia said.

"Tomorrow night, you will return," Flora said. "Seven sharp."

"And every night," Hestia added.

"Until you're ready," Flora said.

"When do we know?" one of the unnamed witches asked.

"He will," the Carrow twins said in unison.

Hermione opened her mouth to question. But, somehow she knew questioning right now would prevent her from learning why.

Besides, she could have friends.

She needed them.

Didn't she?

To Be Continued.