Hermione Granger and the Displaced Sorting

Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter 2

A/N: This is going to be a running author's note, but if you read on and enjoy this story, make sure to have my username saved in case my account is deleted. I post on AO3 and Wattpad as well under the same name.

Also, the Hogwarts castle I'm basing off of is the one from Hogwarts Legacy since supposedly it matched the books' descriptions more, including the Grand Staircase and moving stairs which is in a round tower, but a square interior on the movie. A lot of the things are very similar though, but since I don't have a console that plays my Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix game to free roam that castle, I'm going with the one I can. The castle's a lot bigger as well, so sometimes, when I put on a YouTube video of someone roaming the Legacy castle while I'm writing, I'll get inspired by one of the locations. So… yes, the Legacy castle.

One last thing, I'm treating Hermione's culture shock as what they put in the brochures and pamphlets when someone travels abroad. She'll be in the honeymoon phase first, where everything seems perfect and better than what she's used to—you'll see this in some of her thoughts, so don't think she doesn't love her parents because she feels embarrassed by them in this. Not only is she still young, but she feels the need to assimilate and fit in with this new world, so she'll have her rose-colored glasses on for a time.

August 18th, 1992

"Here?" her dad blurted. "But it's just a bunch of ruins. In fact, we should probably get away from here. I think Emma left the kettle on—"

Hermione frowned at her parents as they both attempted to turn away from the magnificent work of architecture before her. Soaring turrets, massive towers, and glittering windows decorated the castle before her. It was as if… she grabbed her mum's hand to keep her still and glanced at Flitwick. "Muggle repelling wards, right?"

"Very astute, Her—I mean, Miss Granger. Yes, your parents are only seeing some fallen down rocks."

Her father scowled. "Don't talk about us as if we're not here." Then he grabbed his wife's hand. "There's really something there?"

"Oh, Richard, it's beautiful," Mum gasped.

Putting two and two together, Hermione reached out her free hand. "Here, Dad, I think you'll be able to see if you're holding on."

Her dad did so, rubbing at his chest. "Oh, that's much better. I hate feeling rushed, and that was a real doozy. Left the tea kettle on. Can you believe it? Does magic have a sense of humor because that's about the most over-used line in the book? Forgot the kettle on the hob!"

Flitwick chuckled. "Hogwarts is rumored to be sentient, so you never know, Richard. I'm afraid we're walking from here. There's no apparating within the wards at Hogwarts."

"The view's lovely," Emma breathed. "We promise not to complain, Filius."

They lost the main view of the castle as they entered a long bridge.

"We're on the south entrance to Hogwarts. It'll lead us into the clock tower courtyard and eventually the Great Hall where you'll take your tests. It was the closest entry point without traversing the entire school, and not taking the Floo."

"Floo?" they all echoed at once. It wasn't something Hermione had come across in her readings.

"Another magical travel via fireplace," Flitwick answered. "We could've gone to my house which is connected to the Floo network and arrived directly in the Headmaster's office, but I figured you would appreciate the chance to see Hogwarts in all your glory considering…"

"Considering us muggles aren't allowed here?" her dad finished.

"Not normally, no."

"Thank you," Emma said before her father could cut in with a less polite remark.

Despite not seeing the castle, the bridge had an excellent view of the glittering loch and surrounding mountains, and when they finally reached the end, it spilled them out into a large courtyard.

More details stood out, like the bouts of ivy growing up the stonewalls, the reliefs of people and creatures decorating the masonry, the stone fountains and cobblestone paving… all of it was breathtaking, but the sheer magnitude of the castle was the most awe-inspiring part.

No castle in the muggle world even came close to the grandeur of the one before them. They lost the view of the castle as they entered, passing through halls that Flitwick pointed out with portraits that talked, sconces, and tapestries bigger than their living room.

Her mum and dad kept up a litany of questions, and she was so glad they'd gotten this opportunity. To think that they'd never get to experience this right along beside her, never understand how much she would fall in love with this place, because she held no doubts on that front… it was unthinkable.

He led through to what could only be the Great Hall, with four sets of tables in long rows, nestled beneath the four houses of the Hogwarts' crest, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff.

Her mum, who'd had to listen to nonstop ribbing from Dad about how he was a direct descendant of a knight, leaned over to whisper, "Oh, look, Richard, isn't that the banner for Ravenclaw, where my side of the family comes from?"

Dad clicked his teeth shut and huffed but failed to hide the amusement dancing in his gaze as he gave her an impressed look. "You've been saving that up, haven't you?"

She didn't answer, instead giving him a coy, secretive smile.

"Ah, Filius, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, and of course, Miss Granger. Welcome," an old man dressed in royal purple robes partially hidden behind the white beard that ran down his front greeted.

"And you must be Gandolf," Dad replied, stepping forward with his hand outstretched.

Hermione wanted to melt into the flagstones beneath her feet, and she'd bet her wand that her mother's expression mirrored hers.

"Albus Dumbledore, actually."

Oh Lord, he's the Headmaster, Hermione cringed.

Dumbledore tilted his head, a slight smile on his face. "I've not met any Gandolfs related to me, so I must assume that you were being funny."

"Guilty," Dad admitted, looking a bit sheepish. "Sorry, I wasn't making fun, but… well, when… you know what? I'm Richard and this is my wife Emma. We're both doctors."

Hermione had heard the subtle correction in title many times throughout her life. Her parents weren't jerks about it like some, but they'd worked hard to earn their degrees. Though he didn't say it any differently than the thousands of other times, she was still overly nervous from the new world, the new people, the new culture, the new exams… all of it made her supersensitive to her parents' eccentricities.

Dumbledore took things in stride. "So two doctors, if I'm not mistaken. That's quite an accomplishment. Healers are a respected profession in the Wizarding World. All of that combined intelligence must be why Miss Granger was able to skip a grade—maybe two if today goes well," he added with a wink, his blue eyes dancing behind his half-moon spectacles.

Hermione blushed as words escaped her. Why couldn't she remember how to take a compliment?

Dumbledore didn't let the silence stretch uncomfortably, obviously used to leading interactions with families.

Magical families, she reminded herself, impressed that he'd done so well to receive her parents.

"This here is my Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall."

The strict woman inclined her head, her lips pinched. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Drs. Granger and Miss Granger. If circumstances had been different, it would've been me that introduced you to the world of magic."

Her dad grinned. "The pleasure is ours, and not to sound ungrateful, but we've grown rather fond of Filius, here." He clapped said man on the shoulder.

That comment puzzled Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall for some reason, and Flitwick shifted on his feet beside them, seeming to avoid eye contact for some reason.

However, Dumbledore moved on without commenting, turning to her. "It'll be a long day. Due to the time constraints, you'll be taking abbreviated exams. We'll start with all seven written exams of the first-year core classes. If you pass those, then you'll have five demonstrations to go along with those tests supervised by our professors of that field who have all agreed to oversee their subject."

Hermione squared her shoulders and nodded, a determined expression settling on her features.

"It was nice to meet you, Drs. Granger. I'll be around if I'm needed. Miss Granger, if at any point you require a break, just let Professor McGonagall know. She'll be overseeing you." His eyes positively twinkled as he leaned in conspiratorially on his way out to whisper. "Between you and me, I suspect she's trying to make up for lost time and entice you away from Filius to the Gryffindor side."

A nervous smile crossed Hermione's face as his words registered. McGonagall's pinched expression had grown even more severe as she narrowed her eyes at her colleague like she suspected he'd done something cheeky but didn't want to call him out on it in mixed company. It was a look she'd seen her mum give countless times, including today when her dad pulled that Lord of the Rings joke.

"As Professor Dumbledore mentioned, this will be a busy morning. Our reasons for starting with the written exams are twofold. If you don't know the material, we will not be taking the practical exams as I have no desire to see either you, nor anyone else come to harm due to any unpreparedness."

Hermione liked that. It sounded strict, but from what she'd seen in her books, magic could have dire consequences if not performed properly. "I understand, professor."

Her easy acceptance must've surprised McGonagall because her eyebrows jumped up beneath the brim of her actual witch's hat before she gave a succinct nod. "Very well. Drs. Granger, you may sit on the far side over there, while your daughter takes her tests. Professor Flitwick—"

"Oh, no, don't my me. I'll be staying," Flitwick replied.

McGonagall's severe expression returned. "Surely you've other things to do with the start of the year around the corner. Even abbreviated, the tests will take hours."

Flitwick chuckled. "I think you might be pleasantly surprised." He grinned at Hermione. "Good luck, Miss Granger."

Hermione followed McGonagall, looking down at the test. It was a transfiguration essay asking her to detail the steps, potential issues, possible errors and corrections, and the ethics of turning a desk into a pig.

"You may begin," McGonagall stated.

Hermione had brought a mechanical pen at her dad's insistence, and she was glad when McGonagall left her with a feather quill and ink. She'd never thought to practice her handwriting in all her studying she'd done.

In fifteen minutes, she'd filled the parchment and then some, referencing a few of the extra books she'd picked up that had a later release date than the first-year book on the subject, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. She didn't have exact page numbers of course, but she remembered the titles and authors to make a decent footnote if they wanted to authenticate.

Hermione glanced up.

McGonagall had settled in to read something, and when she didn't look up for a full minute, Hermione cleared her throat. "Excuse me, professor?"

"Yes?"

"I'm finished."

And pretty confident, too, she thought. When McGonagall closed the book she'd been reading, she caught the title and realized it was one of the ones she'd referenced.

"Miss Granger, I assure you, this is not a race. You have plenty of time to take your tests."

Hermione nodded. "Oh, yes, I realize. It's just…well, I ran out of room anyway, even after I used the back, so unless you have more parchment…" Hermione trailed off at the odd look that crossed the professor's face.

It might've been her imagination, but she thought she heard a snicker from somewhere behind her that someone poorly concealed with a cough. She'd place even bets on it being either her dad or Flitwick.

McGonagall's lips pursed. "Miss Granger, you are aware that if you don't pass these written tests, there will be no demonstration portions and certainly no do-overs. That means you will be taking the first-year classes."

"Yes, professor, I'm aware."

McGonagall nodded. "Very well."

And so, one test was traded out for another as she breezed through them, working so studiously that she hadn't noticed the time passing, nor the platter of tea and biscuits that appeared to her left, nor the fact that McGonagall had moved catty-corner to her to watch her work, having graded her transfiguration test already.

Hermione startled, jumping in her seat when she raised her head to announce she'd finished, only to notice all these things that'd slipped her attention. "Oh, professor. I'm sorry. I didn't realize you'd moved."

"Indeed. I take it you've finished your astronomy test now?"

Hermione nodded, slipping it over to her.

McGonagall nodded. "Very good. Take some tea with your parents. I will run these tests to the professors so that they can get them graded while you're taking your first practical."

Hermione paused as that sunk in. "I passed?"

A microscopic smile curled the corner of the strict witch's lips. "With an outstanding. We realize you haven't been able to use your wand, so you'll receive a demonstration and be given ten minutes to perform the task. If you don't, we'll average that out with your written scores and make a decision from there. If you're close, you'll be given remedial lessons, assigned a tutor, or both when the school year starts. If you're not close, then I'm afraid there's nothing we can do. There is more to magic than just books and cleverness, and even outstanding essays won't save you if you can't demonstrate an ability for the most basic principles."

Hermione nodded, watching as the witch swept away, off to deliver what felt like her future.

Flitwick and her parents joined her. "Don't fret, Miss Granger. You're doing well."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked, desperate for reassurance.

"For one, I graded your charms test already—all perfect. And for another, I know my colleague. You all but knocked her over with a feather with your essay in transfiguration."

"I did?"

"Yeah, Tootsie," her dad chimed in. "She kept looking at you for long moments, this deep thinking expression on her face, and I'd swear she smiled, but she could just have twitchy lips. We were on the other side of the room."

Flitwick snickered. "No, no. You have it right. And in Minerva terms, that was all but the beaming smile of a proud new parent. Lucky we already know you're going to Ravenclaw, right?"

Hermione glanced up at the banners behind her. "Right."

Flitwick's look soured as he glanced overhead. "Despite her best efforts to spoil the pot. Having you take your tests at the Gryffindor table. Pft."