The little girl who lived on the bottom floor of her parents' pleasant little house at the end of Merrie M. Drive was quite an oddity. Thanks to her father's insistence that she be given the best and most suitable education, they named her something that was very nicely complicated without sounding overly pompous.
Hermione Granger was among the brightest and best students in her primary school. While they could not quite afford the most expensive school Britain had to offer, she was given an education they felt was firm but also wouldn't over tax her. They also wanted to give her a good, albeit disciplined childhood with plenty of toys and memories to look upon fondly.
It came as no surprise that their bushy maned, buck toothed beauty was top of her class. She remained on the forefront of her studies without even having to be told to do so. Thanks to their careers as dentists, her large front teeth were kept immaculately free of tartar and her gums free of food particles. From the age of three, she was taught to floss while also making sure her hair remained within relative levels of reasonable "poof" as Hermione referred to it.
As the years went on, more and more, they saw their daughter flourish in her studies. This was pleasantly expected, but there was also a curiosity they couldn't help noticing as they saw Hermione grow.
When she was nine, she found that she was in the backyard for far longer than she should have been. Once she noticed that their large backyard porchlight was out, it was a moonless night and pitch black. She began to panic as she got to her feet and began looking around at the trees, trying to decipher something of a landmark.
That's when the light came. It was a glow. It seemed to be emitting from her body, in fact. Through her eyes, she could see very clearly that her house was just to her left. She looked at her hands, even they were glowing softly. She hurried back to her house with the light and as she reached the doorknob, the glowing had ceased. As soon as her father heard the door open, he rushed to her aid and was frantic with fear, as he thought she was in her room, reading her King Arthur book in loo of study material.
As she saw changes occur to herself, other strange, less biological things began to happen as well. Once, a boy had sprayed petrol into her hair from the station hose. Hermione grew angry with him and pointed at him to stop laughing. She growled with fury, and without even knowing what happened in the next moment, the boy was sopping wet!
Hermione's hair had miraculously dried, even smelled of fresh conditioner and detangler. While the boy panicked and ran home, she was left wondering how such a thing could ever take place. The newly eleven year old girl must have sniffed her own hair thirty times on her walk back.
None of that mattered, though, she had to get home. Her face beamed, knowing her mum was preparing a birthday party with all of her friends and it was near enough time for the invitees to arrive! It was as if the event had decided to clear her hair of the smell and indignity all because of her most wondrous day!
She received an educational set of cassette tapes, a sketch book complete with various lead pencils and erasers, an art book with full colored pictures, and an envelope from some school that her father pulled from his back pocket. This was the most exciting of all! She squealed with absolute delight and jumped around the room without even remembering to open the parchment with the beautiful green ink.
"Dear Miss Granger,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of necessary books and equipment Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress." Hermione read this letter aloud to them all and after a moment, there was a long pause. It took a long moment for her to determine what that strange feeling was, but then she determined that it was in something she read.
She read the letter again and her parents also seemed to listen in very fervently, as they also agreed, they would need to hear that again. The reading done, Hermione looked at both of her parents and tilted her head to the side.
"Did it really say school of witchcraft and wizardry?" Hermione asked, then pulled the parchment out from behind it, noting that the material they used had a far nicer feeling than regular paper. She read the next page and it was a very strange list of items that she apparently needed for this school that she had never heard of.
Was she really going to need eyes of eels? Were there gloves that were really made of dragon hide? Instead of skirts, the uniforms included robes and cloaks. As she explained this to her parents, her father took the pages from her and read them over very thoroughly, thinking this could very well be a joke.
That was when there came a knock at the door.
"One of the party guests must have forgotten something." Monica Granger said as she got up from the couch. She went to the door and was shocked to see that none of the guests were there. Instead, there was a skinny tall, skinny man with glasses, a balding head and strange orange robes. He had very harsh red hair, something Monica noticed as he doffed his hat to her.
"Good evening, madam! Am I correctly aware that you have come in contact with a certain envelope sent from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" He asked, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
"Oh! Yes, thank heavens! Wendell, he's here about the letter." She turned toward her husband and daughter, who also looked rather relieved.
"Yes, I'm aware you may have questions, being such pleasantly upstanding muggles. That is to say, non-magical or wizarding folk. My name is Arthur Weasley and I am here on behalf of the Ministry of Magic's Department of Muggle Relations. May I come in?"
They very gladly invited him in, making him tea as they sat in the living room and he met little Hermione Granger for the first time. "Ah, hello there, Miss Granger. Congratulations on your invitation to the greatest school of wizardry there is. I'm a proud graduate of house Gryffindor and I'm hoping you'll be the same." He smiled as he shook her very small hand.
"So, it's true, then?" Hermione asked him, a tiny bit sheepish at the prospect of him being an actual wizard who can perform magic. "I am magical?"
"Yes, you are!" He proudly announced. "You have shown properties of a witch and must therefore either attend Hogwarts, or be schooled within your home. And unfortunately, that does not give you the option, given your muggleborn status." Arthur explained and she tried to remember the word "muggle" as it no longer seemed to pertain to her.
"But, magic?" Hermione asked, and Arthur smiled warmly as he pulled his wand from his cloak.
"Now, do I have your permission to perform a harmless magical charm?" He asked, turning to the Grangers, who looked awestruck at the strange request. They complied none the less. Arthur turned and performed a wave of his wand and their chair turned into a very large, fluffy St. Bernard. If they were awestruck before, it was nothing compared to when the dog began to pant and wag its tail as it lied on its side.
Before the excitement began to mount, he turned the dog back into a chair and let them calm down a bit before he continued with some of the details. They were to go to London and reach a little place called the Leaky Cauldron, where Tom the Owner would lead them to Diagon Alley. There, she would get all of her needed supplies as they exchanged their "muggle currency" for strange coins called Knuts, Sickles, and Galleons.
"Yes, that's right, the station platform may seem quite strange, but you understand the need for secrecy. We can't have muggles go wanting remedies for everything, there's just not enough magic in the world, I'm afraid." Arthur said in a somewhat solemn voice. Then he eyed the party table near the dining room. "Ah, but I will say that you muggles also have fascinating technology. Just look at this aluminum can of 'coffee soda'. It is very aesthetically pleasing and fits very well in my hand. I have seen such contraptions before but I've never quite understood how it works. It may have something to do with this little– Yes, Hermione what–"
The little girl walked up to him and took the can. It emitted a hiss as carbonation escaped it. He looked astonished as she handed him the can back, open and with the tab sticking slightly up. "Ah! It smells quite dreadful, do you mind?" He held it toward them with his query.
"Help yourself, but it was more of a joke gift from– oh…" Monica's voice trailed off as Arthur drank it quite readily.
"Ah, it tastes even worse than it smells. Darned muggles befuddle me once again." The wizard said in longing admiration.
"But sir!" Hermione finally burst, startling Arthur out of his train of thought as he turned back to her. "What am I supposed to do? I don't have any knowledge of magic. I don't even know if I really am magic! What if I–"
"My dear, you are fortunate enough to have a birthday after September 1st, because you can get your books tomorrow and you will have a year to learn your magical history. If you do learn spells, which all of you children do regardless if we forbid it, we merely ask that you learn them in a controlled environment and under supervision. I would not like to come back on a call that you turned your mother's garden into quicksand." Arthur smiled at the little witch, whose jaw dropped at the prospect of having an entire year to learn magic.
After that, the kindly wizard bid them adieu and all of them gazed at each other as if this were all a dream they would wake from at any moment. The next day, they followed Arthur's instructions and were astonished to find that it was all true. They bought her everything they needed, even giving her a fanciable amount of money in the currency they used. It made her pouch quite heavy, but her pack was sufficient to hold it.
There were broomsticks, which Hermione naturally associated with being a witch, but she was queasy at the thought of flying so fast in open air. Thankfully, the list was quick to say that first year students were not allowed a personal broom. She was, however, required a wand.
Ollivander's shop was musky, but smelled like a library full of old, marvelous books. Her parents stayed close to her in the old shop, and it wasn't long before the old, silver-haired, silver-eyed wizard came to the front with a stagger.
"Ah! Welcome! Welcome! You are late, I think? Or perhaps you just got your letter?" Ollivander asked as he leaned down toward her and she nodded at the latter. "What is your name, might I ask?"
"Hermione Granger." She said with a smile and he beamed at her.
"Ah, Miss Granger, yes, you were on the list for next year! A recent addition, as I remember, over a year ago." He bowed to her and held out his hand to shake hers, then he pulled a long measuring tape from his sleeve and began to measure her wrist, her elbow, forearm, "I am Garrick Ollivander, and I created all of these wands myself. I remember all of them without fail and today, you shall be getting your own!"
The wandmaker looked practically giddy at the prospect of yet another opportunity to send a magical child off on another adventure. Without fail, he began to pull two, three, even four wands off of the shelf in long, slender boxes.
"I have a feeling you shall be quite the job. I can definitely tell that I have met my match this day!" He pulled the top wand off and placed the rest on the front counter. "Here we are."
He held the box to her and she pulled the top from it. There it was, beautiful and slender with a dark tan wood finish. The handle was decorated in patterns of vines. It was absolutely gorgeous. "Oh, my!" She whispered, breathless.
"Vine, ten and three quarters, dragon heartstring, slightly dense. It is quite a specimen, if I do say so myself. Oh, my goodness!" He was positively aghast as she pulled it from the box and looked at him as she radiated a brilliant light, much like she did that one, dark night.
"Oh, Hermione!" Her mother was radiant with glee and her father had to pull a handkerchief from his pocket.
She couldn't describe the warmth she felt. It was incredible! It was as if it were a piece of her arm had been missing and she hadn't known it until now.
"Vine is, as I have seen, quite uncommonly chosen among witches and wizards. They are, indeed, extraordinarily earned through perseverance of a different kind. I have to say, I have not had a first time chosen wand in over fifteen years. What a momentous occasion." He said, though, he sounded very slightly bitter at the very brief visit.
"This is truly mine?" Hermione looked upon the wand, holding it above her. What was that feeling it gave her? She ran a finger over the immaculate wooden shaft of the wizard's most trusted weapon.
"My dear, it chose you, so yes. You seem to grasp the gravity of this. Listen closely, though," he leaned toward her and showed her how to hold it properly in her hand, and it fell there so naturally, she smiled at him. "Do not use it lightly, or in anger. It is dangerous when used without care, but marvelous when wielded with practice. Do you understand?"
"Yes, of course, Mr. Ollivander. Thank you, so much." She had tears bunched all in her eyes and they soon flowed very freely. Seeing that she did, indeed, understand, he sent her on her way with a hearty good luck.
With the copper cauldron, twenty five hardback books with moving pictures inside them, brand new wizarding robes, ridiculous amounts of slug and leech juice, as well as a surplus of quills, parchment, and ink.
She wasn't entirely sure if he was just giving her the "you're extraordinary" speech because that was his normal thing. If he was, he certainly sounded genuine. That didn't matter, either way. On top of her sixth grade homework assignments, where she continued to attend… "muggle" primary school, she hit the wizarding books. Without interrupting her study schedule, she finished one book a day, then began practicing the safer spells at home with her wand.
To her delight, she was able to create sparks, make things slightly levitate an inch, break several glass bottles at a time, and even put one of them back together as she waved her wand ever so slightly, "Reparo!"
She danced with joy and shrieked as she did all of this without missing a beat! She was almost sad that she was down to the final book she bought from Flourish and Blotts, Modern Magical History.
"Throughout the ages, there have been dark wizards that have caused mass chaos and panic throughout the wizarding world. Wizards such as Herpo the Foul, who created dark items and creatures still a problem today, and Grindelwald, who, in 1945, fought Albus Dumbledore in one of the most famous wizarding duels in history. Of all of them, the one to cause the most dismay and terror was none other than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, also known as You-Know-Who, but sparingly spoken with the name, Lord Voldemort." She mouthed his name silently, though she did not see a picture of him, or even a painted portrait. "For eleven years, he committed many murders, corrupted the system and nearly brought the Ministry of Magic to its knees. However, when he turned the killing curse onto a one-year-old boy named Harry Potter, his power was decimated and he disappeared."
Did she read that correctly? A dark wizard seemingly more powerful than the ancients killed so many victims, but was vaporized by a baby? Harry Potter not only survived what was called the "killing curse", but also caused the end of the darkest age wizarding kind had ever seen. There was no way he would even remember doing so. What a strange circumstance.
As enthusiastic as she was, there came a point where she was simply practicing the simple spells and rereading the books in something of a compulsion. By the time the summer holidays arrived, she was trying on her robes and standing in front of the mirror in her room.
Then, of course, with her parents' tears in their eyes, they made their way to King's Cross and platform nine and three-quarters.
As bitter sweet as it was to leave her parents at the platform. With some difficulty, her father helped her load her trunk onto the train and the two of them waved to her. Her mother's tears were flowing then. Within just a few minutes, the train began to move and all of the kids seemed like they drank five gallons of coffee. None of them seemed dressed in their proper wizarding robes and one child named Neville Longbottom walked up to her, asking if she'd seen his toad.
"No, I'm afraid not, but I'll be happy to help you find him if you help me convince these rotten little children to settle down before they put someone's hair aflame." She said as she saw yet another wand out in front of a kid who seemed like he was trying to remember the right incantation.
"I don't think they'll listen to me, but I'll try." He said with no real conviction in his voice. She let him off, though, knowing she simply needed to find a more calm spot in the train.
The further she walked in the train, the calmer it seemed to become. She never found a toad, but she did see one boy with a rat amid an array of sweets. Across from him was another boy with untidy dark hair and round spectacles. It was just the two of them and they had plenty of space. The boy with the round glasses looked out the window and saw her, so she waved. As he waved back, she rolled the door open.
"Hi, a boy named Neville has lost a toad, have you seen it?" Hermione asked, and the red headed boy with the rat on his lap promptly responded.
"No, we haven't." He bit the head off another chocolate frog and she glared at him, annoyed.
"No, I haven't seen one." The other said, and she turned toward his softer sounding voice.
"What's your name?" She suddenly noticed a bit of a red marking between his dark bangs. "I'm Hermione Granger." She smiled, and he noticed her teeth, causing him to smile back at her, his face growing very slightly pink.
"Oh, um, Harry Potter." He said and her eyes widened, as she tilted her head.
"Are you really? I've read your name in three books. You're a part of wizarding history." She gawked, seeing him as something of a treasure trove of valuable, rare information that she couldn't get from anywhere else. Then she turned to the other one who was feeding his rat some tiny chocolate candies from wrappers that turned it different colors.
"And what is your name?" She asked, though, she had a feeling the other one was content in not telling her.
"Ron Weasley." He said to her and she surprisingly heard that name as well.
"Weasley? Are you related to that nice old wizard who came to tell my family about the wizarding world?" She asked and he visibly flinched at the mention of a spider.
"Yeah, he takes that job more than anyone in the Ministry." He admitted. "Dad's fascinated with everything to do with muggles."
"Mind if I sit down? All the other carts are full." She asked and before Harry could invite her, there came a high drawling voice.
"I wouldn't be so fast to let her near you." Hermione turned around and saw a grinning child, about the same height as her, with two huge, lumbering boys on either side of him. "I saw her parents let her off at the station and I know muggles when I see them. She's a muggle-born, Potter, and you don't want to consort with their types."
"And who, might I ask, are you?" Hermione took a step back toward Harry so she wasn't within the foul stench of their collective breath.
"Among one of the oldest pure-blood wizarding families, Draco Malfoy." His grin widened, especially when he turned his eyes over toward the red head named Ron. "It doesn't take a genius to know what family you're from. Red hair, more freckles than skin and a hand-me-down wand. My father has grown weary of a nitwit named Weasley from the Ministry going on and on about bloody muggles."
"Get lost, Malfoy!" Ron shouted before drawing his wand. Harry was quick to follow and held his wand up toward the three menacing figures in front of the girl.
"Or else what, Weasley? Your antique wand going to cough at me?" Malfoy reached for his wand as well, but it was Hermione who drew on him first. He stood there, stunned as he saw the tip of her vine wand inches away from his nose.
"I don't believe I need a good aim to cause some terrible damage, Mr. Malfoy. I may have been born to muggles, but I know some handy ones. Shall I perform one for you?" She smiled with her buck teeth toward him, and her pretty face beamed. Both Ron and Harry looked at one another as they also held their wands up. They dared Crabbe or Goyle to make a move.
The two big, clunky boys glared at the three of them, cracking their knuckles, but also looked to Draco, worried what he might command them to do.
"Fine, come on, then." Malfoy said with a pink face and pursed lips. He spoke through his teeth as he backed away into the hall and closed the door.
"I know a Slytherin when I see one." Ron said as he put his wand away and placed his sleeping rat back onto a pile of wrappers. "Or three."
"Is there really such a difference in power between pure bloods and muggle-borns?" Hermione asked, and Harry's eyes widened toward her. It was Ron that answered, though.
"No, old wizard families like to think that pure-bloods are superior to muggle-borns and half-bloods, but there's talentless wizards, no matter what your blood status." Ron shook his head at the absurdity of the thought. "My family's pure-blood and we're no more powerful than the next wizard." He shrugged.
She had to admit, this made her feel a little better. Especially when the other boy, Harry, nodded to her and then rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, don't listen to him. I'm not muggle-born, but I was raised by the worst kind of muggles, and I can tell you, I don't know a single bit of magic." Harry declared, and Hermione's face lit up as she pulled her wand from her pocket.
"Really? Would you like for me to show you some? I can teach you a few very basic ones before we get there. We still have a few hours left." Then she pointed her wand to the center of Harry's glasses and she cast, "Reparo." Soon, the tape became obsolete, so the wand removed it and the glasses were fixed.
"How did you do that?" He said, removing a beautiful wand of his own from his cloak. Even Ron, who looked a little annoyed that someone was butting into a meeting with one of the most interesting students he'd ever met.
Still, it was worth it, as she showed them what to say to make their wands light up, go dark, and then she picked up one of their dirty napkins and pointed her wand at it.
"Tergeo." Her wand cleaned it, seeming to absorb the chocolate and peanuts, as well as the more undesirable jelly beans they had discovered.
"Whoa, that's quite useful, that is." Ron's mouth hung open. "Oh, now you need to show me that one."
"Watch closely." She beckoned him and Harry.
"How do you know so many spells already? Did you really teach yourself all of these?" Harry asked, fascinated how she knew more than a pure-blood child her own age.
"Well, my birthday was only a little bit after the Hogwarts start of course, so I narrowly missed starting last year." Hermione explained as she cleaned Harry's napkin this time.
"Brilliant." Harry smiled at her and she could feel her face turning a bright pink.
"Yes, well, I simply had longer to learn all of this." Hermione got up as she looked outside. "Oh, look, you two should get into your robes. It's almost time for us to arrive at the school."
"Oh, she's right, as usual." Ron said as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. Then his stomach growled very audibly. "Wish we had more of the trolley stuff."
"Yeah, we ate all of the chocolate frogs." Harry lamented and Hermione scoffed.
"The two of you should watch it, or you'll ruin your dinner. Now go on, get changed. I'll come back in a bit." Hermione demanded and both Ron and Harry eyed each other as she exited.
"Can you believe her?" Ron said to Harry once she was out of earshot.
Harry shrugged as he started to get off his muggle clothes.
Hermione felt a tiny bit faint. What was wrong with her? Was she sick the first day? No, it was just the jitters. That was it, yes. She was just nervous on her first day at Hogwarts. She just had to cool off. It was such a beautiful night, she had no right to feel this warm. The train carts with the windows open let in a nice cool breeze from the dusk outside.
The sun was most of the way down the horizon, and according to her watch, they were twenty minutes away from Hogwarts and closing in fast. Before long, she found her way back toward the train cart with Ron and Harry, but then came a leg out in front of her. Without warning, she was pitched forward, sprawled as she tripped over the leg and shrieked on her way down.
There came laughter, and she turned to see Malfoy, the two large bullies, and a girl who laughed along with them. Her face turned scarlet with embarrassment and scorn as she looked on at them, and the ones around her looked away as if they didn't want to get involved.
Then, a hand came down from above her vision, pulling her up as she took it. As she was lifted to her feet, there was Harry Potter. This was the first time she noticed, behind all of those messy strands of hair, underneath the scar, he had the greenest eyes she had ever seen.
"Are you alright?" He asked her and all of that anger seemed to wash away as his concerned face showed all of the sympathy and attention she could ever ask for in her life.
"I…" She was able to utter, but little more than that as she saw him.
He glared back at the pure-bloods standing at their cart door as he helped her.
"Oh, look at the great Harry Potter! So noble and gallant!" Malfoy shouted, but much to his dismay, there were many gasps and faces lighting up.
"Did you say Harry Potter?" Pansy Parkinson asked Draco as she turned and looked at the boy in the round glasses once again. She couldn't see him, though, as he was already walking away and his image was obscured by a large head of curly brown hair. All of the whispers traveled up and down the carts, though, and Harry Potter could hear his name entirely too many times for his own comfort.
Hermione could see that the constant whispering was bothering him and she glared toward one of the students who was whispering loudest near her. Ron opened the door for them both as they came near.
"What was that all about?" He asked before closing the sliding door.
"Malfoy." Both of them said in chorus. It wasn't a long tale, and it made Ron spit with anger.
"That git! Wait til I get my hands on him when I learn some real hexes. Then I'll show him." Ron declared as he held up his wand. "Right now the most dangerous thing I can do is shoot red sparks. Mind you, they itch pretty hard."
"You know you can't hex people just because you can. Don't sink to his level, Ron. We don't want to give our teachers a reason to make us think we want to be in Slytherin." She said, and this seemed to wise both of them up to that possibility.
There came a commotion, and one look out the window confirmed why. There, just along the way, was Hogsmeade Station. They had arrived.
Before any of them knew it, they were being ushered out of the train and into a group of all first years by one of the largest men Hermione had ever seen. He looked fifteen feet tall, though he may have only been nine, and he carried a lantern as he waved them all near.
"Come on, now, don't ye push. First years get in a group and follow me. Keep with me and we'll all be getting to Hogwarts together." The very large man said as he confirmed that all of them had come to him and he took a good look at all of their shining, if not somewhat tired faces.
"That's Hagrid." Harry said to Hermione, and she looked at him with some more wonder.
"You know him?" She asked, spellbound by the idea of knowing such a giant of a man.
"Yes, he came and got me from they Dursleys. I have to say, it was the best day of my life. Though, this may beat it." Harry said as he smiled. She couldn't stop herself from smiling wide and going flush.
"Oh, yes, I'd say it beats that day by a long shot." She admitted as Ron and them began to move with Hagrid toward the lake. It was a huge body of water in the middle of the grounds and all of them began to gaggle around it.
Within just a few moments, Hermione, Harry, Ron, and the child, Neville, who had still not found his toad, all came across the lake on a boat that seemed to row itself. As it turned a corner, there it was. It was a castle, and it sat atop the highlands. It had many turrets, so many lights coming out of its many windows. The stone looked as ancient as the hills themselves and it was all reflected in the lake by the moonlight.
There she was, gazing at the castle with the most beautiful view she had ever seen in her life. What did that castle hold in store for her? What all would she need to learn before the terms were complete? So many questions, yet they came ever nearer the castle. Then she heard him breathing.
Harry, the boy who was known to the wizarding world all over, heaved in breaths every so often. As she looked a little closer, she thought she might have noticed a glistening on his forehead. Was he sweating?
"Hey," Hermione leaned toward him and he looked at her with some bewilderment, but then he managed to put on a smile. "We'll be okay. Okay?"
Harry took a moment to consider her. She put on a smile that seemed genuine enough and she didn't seem to falter when he took a deep breath.
"Yeah, yeah, okay." Harry nodded as all of them ducked down low as they came through an overpass with vines hanging down it. Soon, they came to the opposite shore, and straight to the front entrance.
Hagrid knocked three times with his great hand.