Hermione Granger and the Year Hidden from Hogwarts

by mia1200s

Hermione was born with abilities inherited from an ancient bloodline, or two. Her eleventh birthday passes without the owl meant to deliver her Hogwarts letter. Instead, she is tested and trained on her ability to see things others can't. Follow her adventures at MI5 until the spell hiding her magic ends and a beloved Charms professor arrives to hand-deliver her letter personally.

16. Chapter 16

Hermione Granger and the Year Hidden from Hogwarts

Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter 16

A/N: Hermione finally got her Hogwarts letter! Are you ready for the Wizarding World?

March 17th, 1992

For what had to be the fiftieth time, Hermione ran her fingertip over the embossed calligraphic letters, confusion swirling in her mind.

Hermione Granger

140 Gower Street, Security Service (MI5, SS)

Black Site Headquarters

Sub-basement 3

Laboratory 5

Office Room 6 as Provisional Dorm for Hermione Granger

This letter stumped her. She flipped it over to the back, tracing the insignia of the stamp. The crest resembled any other medieval shield from old families, but she'd not heard of the school that supposedly matched the symbol.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

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

That was a hefty title. Hermione wondered if he was precocious enough to make everyone address him by all his titles. If so, that'd make for a lengthy conversation.

Below the letterhead was the body of the correspondence, a simple, straight to the point letter.

Dear Ms. 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 all necessary books and equipment.

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

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Hermione flipped to the enclosed list, reading over the items, half convinced it was all some elaborate hoax created by Charles, but apart from some ribbing, he'd been one to play pranks on her. And why would he? He was a grown man with a doctorate degree employed by the Secret Service. He had a lot more valuable things to do with his time than to bother with a twelve year old girl he'd been saddled with for over half a decade.

But, if the letter hadn't come from him, then that meant—to quote one of her favorite fictional characters, "Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."

It was improbable for a wizarding school to have existed, but what other explanation could there be? Any snapshot of her life leant credit to this supposition, so she was forced to believe this letter was real.

She scoured through the second page that she'd long ago memorized.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-time 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, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags.

FIRST YEAR 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 Beginner's 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 glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

SECOND YEAR COURSE BOOKS:

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk

Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart

Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart

Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart

Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart

Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

Yours sincerely,

Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions

Hermione frowned and set the letter aside before picking it up again, scanning the contents once more. There was a lot of information to unpack if one read between the lines, and Hermione had gotten quite proficient and scanning for details and picking up on undertones.

For instance, the book, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, could possibly be connected to the creatures they were studying. It would explain why Erl was adamant that humans referred to him as an erkling rather than the common mythological erlking in German fables.

It would explain the existence of Ignis and Invisibilis, and even herself. The letter implied that she was some sort of sorcerer. That could explain why she was so far off the charts when it came to the psychic scale MI5 had used before her to measure aptitude for potential psychics.

But then, if that were true, why weren't there more people like her lining these halls? Just the headmasters list of commendations and achievements suggested an organized governing body, perhaps separate from London's.

And then she cycled back around to her original thoughts. How could something on such a large scale be so completely hidden from the regular world?

Hermione paused, recalling the missing memories from the disappearing ape. It was as if the entire incident had been wiped from everyone's mind. And every time she tried to bring it up, the person in question got evasive and grew agitated.

Was that the work of witchcraft or wizardry? And for that matter, why was she spared? Was it because she was, for lack of a better term, one of them?

Also why did it include a list of supplies for both a first- and second-year student? Was the school only a two-year program, and they wanted to make sure the students had all the supplies before starting?

If that were true, why would they be teaching hormonal preteens how to wield spells powerful enough to alter an entire network of people's memories? That seemed irrational.

There were too many questions and not enough answers. Most pressing of all at the moment was what the letter meant by "owl."

Thinking of Ignis and Invisibilis both could be closely related to nonmagical creatures, she wondered if there was a magical version of an owl that did… something?

Using deductive reasoning and the context of the sentence, if "owl" wasn't some arbitrary lingo, she assumed these magical owls would act similarly to carrier pigeons.

The only problem was, how was she to get her hands on one such animal to pen a response. She didn't have a return address for the school, so perhaps Hogwarts itself would route one her way that was already trained to be able to route back to the institution in question.

The pieces were all there, but half the box was missing to form the full picture of the puzzle.

Her six o'clock alarm went off, and she put the letter away with a sigh, tucked into the journal of notes that had the blanked pages from her previous notes on Invisibilus, as if the letter belonged there, a storage place for the current oddities in her life.

Either way, she hadn't brought it up to anyone at MI5, and she hadn't spoken to her parents except for a brief phone call two weeks prior. All she could do was wait for the time being, but she felt the deadline to reply pressing down on her, even if it was still over four months away.

She rolled out of bed, smiling when Ignis was left curled in a ball on her pillow. "Come on, sleepy head. It's time to go."

Ignis opened one black eye, snorted a plume of smoke out its nose and rolled away from her.

"Alright, fine. Have it your way. You can sleep in while I shower, but then we're off for the day. We don't want to miss breakfast again, do we?"

Ignis flicked the end of his tail lazily.

Hermione propped her hands on her hips. "You're getting lazy in your easy days, cruising around in my hair, napping whenever you feel like it."

He didn't acknowledge her this time.

Hermione snorted, moving for the door. If he didn't want to wake up when she returned, she'd cross that bridge then. But she would not be allowing him to sneak pieces of sausage in her hair again to save for later when he was more awake. That was a habit that ended today.

Outside in the laboratory proper, the reassuring presence of the bank of computers provided enough light to navigate through the machinery maze of state-of-the-art equipment. They'd become a nightlight of sorts, helping her pick through in the near dark for midnight runs to the loo.

Dr. Hampton wouldn't be in for another hour. He enjoyed coming in early to tinker with all the equipment, Mr. Magorium ruling over his emporium of toys. Charles would amble in a "fashionably" fifteen minutes late, coffee, messenger back, and journal in hand.

The two couldn't be more different, for that matter, neither she could, but they all worked, bringing their strengths to the table.

Erl rushed to the glass of his habitat, as if he'd been waiting for hours for her to wake up and grace him with her presence. It sent her appetite for breakfast fleeing. "Good morning, mistress. Did mistress sleep well? I serve mistress?"

She paused, her bag of toiletries clutched tightly and her towel slung over her arm. "Hello, Erl." When normally she would've carried on, she turned to him. "Erl?"

"Oh, yes, most gracious mistress? What can I do to please you? I will do anything!"

"What do erklings do for fun?"

She'd worked tirelessly, trying to reconnect with that stubborn personality, a cunning personality since Erl had taught himself to swim and use the water to lure his…victims…to him. Erklings weren't marine creatures, but he explained how he thought if parents saw their children disappear into the water, that they wouldn't go hunting through his woods while looking for the bodies.

It was disturbing, and she couldn't bring herself to think of the children's faces when she thought about it, but still, a rather clever tactic considering they'd never be able to net drag and say with any absolution that the bodies had vanished, not with the largest lake on the planet.

So she'd asked questions, tweaked with the bond, added tethers, removed tethers, and more. What she'd gotten so far was something with less blankness in its gaze, and a little more character if obsessive servant could be considered a qualifying trait.

"Oh! I do not know!" Erl began bashing his head against the cage.

Hermione rushed to place her hand on the glass. "No, stop, Erl. It wasn't a command. It was a question. Remember what I taught you about questions?"

Contradicting the point she was trying to make, Erl nodded eagerly, treating her question about questions like a command. "Yes, yes, I do, mistress. You said they are allowed to be answered with I don't know if I don't know the answer."

"Yes, so instead of punishing yourself, how should you reply?"

"I say, 'I don't know.'"

"Perfect. Let's try that again, shall we?"

"Yes, yes, yes, of course, mistress. Anything you want if it pleases you."

Hermione winced but carried on. Whatever she'd done to him when she forced the bond, it was nothing like the connection she shared with Ignis. This was her fault, and so she'd take things one step at a time. "Erl, what do erklings do for fun?"

"I don't know, mistress."

"Brilliant," she praised. "Since you don't know, I want you to think about that today while I'm gone for classes and do your best to have an answer for me tonight when we have our bonding session. What would you like to do for fun, can you do that Erl?"

Erl nodded. "Anything for you, mistress."

The one silver lining to the forced bond was that she hadn't been assaulted by the deaths of unknown numbers of children. Was it because Erl hadn't considered his actions murder for sport but a necessity for survival?

It was a question she didn't care to ponder on for too long.

She glanced at herself in the mirror.

Cor blimey, she hoped he didn't say that his fun time hobby was eating children.

April 5th, 1992

Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, Unplottable Location, Scotland Highlands

Dumbledore smiled at his colleague and dear friend when she entered his office with her usual pinched mien. "Minerva."

"Don't you Minerva me, Albus Dumbledore. You set those books out in the library for the boys to find." McGonagall shook her head to dismiss his offer of a lemon drop.

Dumbledore popped the candy he selected into his mouth, taking his time to savor the sharp bite of sour beneath the half-second of misleading sweet. "What makes you think that?"

"Besides the fact that the Easter holidays are upon us, and the timing would ensure ample time for digging into matters, do you recall I teach them in class? Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley wouldn't be able to find their own shadows with a map and compass. Why must you insist on egging them on like this? I thought the goal was to protect the stone."

"For a fashion, yes, but I find myself curious to see what Mr. Potter is made of."

McGonagall looked even more displeased if possible. "Oh, this is all about that barmy prophecy, isn't it? You believe he's this, this Chosen One that all the papers heralded him to be. He's just a boy, Albus."

"And if nothing comes of their exploration, then so be it."

"Well that would be fine if you hadn't gone and left out books on Nicholas bloody Flamel!"

Several of the headmasters' portraits gasped, alarmed at the normally composed and strict Scottish woman using such language.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, watching as his colleague realized her lapse and pulled herself taller, composing her manner once more.

"Now, Albus. I also wanted to talk to you about the anomaly."

Dumbledore's amusement ebbed away, though he kept a pleasant expression on his face. "Ah, you mean Miss Granger."

"Yes, you mentioned the owl was able to slip the letter inside a bag, and you've said yourself that the registry book confirms she read its contents. What are our next steps?"

"In what capacity do you mean?"

McGonagall pursed her lips. "I mean that this is highly irregular. Why or even how was she able to hide from the magic of the Hogwarts registry for well over a year?"

"I don't know," Dumbledore admitted.

"Considering her missing coursework and the many mysteries surrounding this child, perhaps it would be best that I stop in earlier than scheduled to introduce her parents and her to the magical world. She could possibly catch up on her missing lessons, revise—"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, I'm afraid that's not a good idea."

McGonagall frowned. "The timing would be perfect. We're on Easter holidays. I would have some free time to visit her family. She's Muggle-born, correct?"

"Yes, but I don't think it would be best to go popping in on her anytime soon." Dumbledore turned the book for McGonagall to see, watching as her lips parted in shock at the address.

"How—but—why?"

"Yet another question that seems to surround this mysterious Ms. Granger. I just got back from a meeting with the Minister of Magic, and he claims that we don't have any dealings with this part of the Muggle cabinet of the government, so we have to be discrete."

McGonagall sat in the wingback chair nearby, staring into the fire, lost in her thoughts.

"Now," Dumbledore began, steepling his fingers in front of him. "Since my time will be tied into protecting the stone, as well as you in your role as Deputy Headmistress should I become indisposed, I've officially passed this task off to Filius. He has more free time than you, so as soon as the trace activates—"

"I'm sorry, but what trace?"

"I placed a trace on the letter. If Ms. Granger steps foot outside that building, Filius will be notified and will be able to investigate more on this matter."

McGonagall gave a tired, reluctant nod, just a firm dip of her chin.

"Now that that's settled. I heard you had an incident in class with the Weasley twins…" Dumbledore smiled to himself as that brought her fiery side to the fore, chasing away her melancholy. Despite her rantings, they'd both miss the antics of the Weasley twins when it was their time to graduate.