By lunch, the entire school was abuzz with the news of Hermione's first victory, and from the seats at the head table, she could see the various members of the school's faculty talking animatedly, especially given that Snape himself hadn't bothered to make an appearance. She heard a muttering of him preferring his dungeons to sulk in his defeat, but Hermione understood him now, if only a little. He didn't sulk. No, he had lost a battle, and now, he was preparing to make war.
She would have to seek out other potion tomes, and was only lucky that the one's she'd used for her first dive had contained those tips on how to make that type of potion just a bit better than her own school books did. Had he kept to the lesson plan and done the far easier bubbling brew for this lesson, she actually would have simply had to settle for perfection in its creation, not being able to so easily reduce the complexity of what the book's instructions were.
Still, she had plans to make, and the moment the meal was done, she went off to the library. She had five more books to pick out, and since she had Professor Flitwick's class next, she selected Charms for her next bite of the Apple of Knowledge. She was smiling to herself, her head not feeling even a bit fuzzy this time, but still full enough that she didn't try for more as she set the heavy books on HER shelf, and then proceeded to class.
She impressed the class again, earning her fifteen points, as was only right, given the Locking Charm they were practicing, that would seal something against another solid surface, saw her doing it perfectly on her first try, barely having listened to the lesson. Better, she did three far more complex forms of it, including one that locked an object into a specific distance from the object, allowing you to move the two as one, useful when you had something heavy you needed shifted about.
Flitwick even swore in Gobbledygook at that one, though she only knew it WAS a swear because he looked abashed at having let that word escape his lips. From there, she felt on top of the world, even knowing that tomorrow would be harder to do, given her classes were Defense and Transfiguration. The former had few practicals that she could use to show off her knowledge, and the latter was simply too complex for her to get more than a little ahead of the curve in terms of learning its power.
She spent her free time after class carefully selecting her next sources of power, laying out four days of books on her shelf, so she could just go down them, before grabbing a treatise on water controlling magic that sounded interesting. The Master, some old Inuit woman from turn of the century Canada, laid out how the power of the waves and the moon were essential for life on the planet to continue, and she gave many small tips on how to harness both forces together for great feats.
She went to the next day's class with a skip in her step, even putting up with the muttering of Professor Quirrel, who seemed, if anything, amused by her putting down the Potion Master, asking her if she had any insights to share, and while she did, nothing in her mind was beyond the first year of Defense at the moment, as she'd focused on McGonagall's class next. Still, she performed a simple repulsing spell, the most advanced one in the year, with almost perfect precision.
Professor Quirrel gave her points for that, which, as noted by everyone, was a rarity for the man, who seemed genuinely pleased with her efforts. The one small critique he made was to her foot placement, which, as he noted, was something you needed to keep in mind in a combat situation. Oddly, he said the whole piece without a single bit of stuttering, only to seemingly realize he'd done so and nearly have a panic attack at said realization, going back to muttering as he told them to read their books until the end of class.
Professor McGonagall, rather than call attention to her, didn't say a thing, as she started the next lesson, going over various elements of the practical, before giving them cups of sugar cubes to turn into butterflies. Hermione, while not up on the specific spell for this substitution, did have a few tips from later books, and so she quickly cast the spell as it was written, using her imagination to cause the butterflies to appear in all sorts of wild and vivid colors that flew around the class.
She had them do various flight paths, going into formations, and when she had them finally return to her, she had them reassemble into a small statue with the cubes, a piece at a time, the most complex way of doing it. The rest of the class all stared at her in awe for the feat, with more than one commenting under their breath about why she wasn't teaching the class herself, which was a good question at this point.
And all Minerva McGonagall had to say was 'Very Good'. She awarded no points, and did nothing beyond that. She did get an 'O', which was the highest grade in a class here as Outstanding. Still, she had gotten far more praise from everyone but Snape, and even he'd been obviously impressed. It was like the woman was a brick wall, and she was bashing her head against it in frustration.
She contained herself, sniffing a little as she sat there, waiting for the rest of the class to do even a fraction as well as she. And the woman had the nerve to praise a few of their efforts the same as she had Hermione's, which caused the young lady to puff out her cheeks, and want to shout at her. She had to go through four different breathing exercises she knew to keep her temper, and when she left, she all but stormed out of the classroom.
Hermione reminded herself, as she went back to the library, that she need not garner the praise of every professor. She had gotten even less from Snape after all. But even that bat had seen fit to give her a single point, a feat that had the whole school talking given it was the first any in living memory could remember the fool giving out to a Griffyndor at all, and that had been for a feat far less impressive, visually at least, than this one.
Still fuming, she picked out a book from the shelf in the library to read, quickly jotting down the homework for her classes. A week ago, she'd have spent time going over each line of her homework, fretting over if it was complex enough, and even going into detail far beyond what her textbooks did. Now? She barely had the desire to do any of that, tersely cutting off her own paper the moment she had the centimeters that had been requested for each assignment.
After all, she had a goal now. The magical world was unjust and unfair. She needed to correct that. Homework, much as it was a symbol of her intelligence, was not going to help with that goal, and so she instead focused on her books, actually managing to finish the one she'd picked on a whim, this one of some wizard named Lockheart, who seemed to be quite the dashing adventurer, if the prose in the book was to be believed, with skills that rivaled Headmaster Dumbledore.
She would look up more of his books later, she thought, as the back advertised several tomes penned by the man. Still, she went to bed that night with the anger at Professor McGonagall still in her mind. She would have to see that woman bowing before her before she forgave her for the insult. After all, she was a teacher. She was supposed to PRAISE and REWARD students who did well in the class. Dismissing it the way she had? That was an insult, and one she would not soon forget.
The next day she spent the classes she had, Herbology and Charms again, showing off knowledge far beyond the first years. She used a growth charm on two of the flowers she was supposed to be raising, causing them to bloom beautifully, without aging them too far that they died. In fact she hit their peak of usefulness, allowing Professor Sprout to harvest the pollen that was the point of one flower a full three weeks early.
In Charms, at Professor Flitwick's insistence, she demonstrated the Charm again, earning a squeak from the half-goblin, as the flower, a lovely nightrose that sparkled like the evening sky, turned into its full glory, and gaining her another twenty house points, as that spell was only really supposed to be for fourth years. It was technically doable by firsts, but the intricate wand motions and incantation kept it from being the sort they would teach to anyone at her level.
That feeling kept her lofty as she headed to the library, and knowing potions would again be an issue, she picked five more texts on some of the more likely ones Snape would test them on. She then felt, just a little, less full in the brain than yesterday, and on a whim, selected one more, this one about a second year potion she'd heard of, and with another tap, she read it with her spell.
This time it hurt, but not enough to send her into unconsciousness. It was a headache, mind, but she endured the pain, not willing to head to Madam Pomfery, not willing to risk the discovery of her spell. It did fade, after all. It took until after the evening meal, but it was enough that as she climbed into bed, she was able to close her eyes and fall asleep without too much effort, her dreams filled with floating words and ideas.
When she went to potions the next day, Snape was ready for her. He placed her aside, telling Neville, her normal partner, to pair up with Potter and the Weasel. After all, he wouldn't want Ms. Granger to get bored, so he gave her the same potion as the rest of the class, but with a few added ingredients, the sort that could either increase the potency of the pepper up potion they were brewing…or cause it to explode, either way.
Hermione, up to the challenge after the potion journals, quickly got to work, and once again, using a few tips and tricks, she was able to finish her potion before anyone else in the class. Not quite as fast as last time, but still, she presented Professor Snape with the finished brew, and after pouring a few drops onto a plate he wove an intricate sequence of spells over it with his wand, before nodding at it, calling it…acceptable, and awarding her an O, along with one point.
It was not quite the same as the first time, but still, the Slytherins sneered, and when she went to lunch, it was again the talk of the whole Great Hall, as even the teachers were raising their glasses to her, making her smile, as she thought of what she could do if this kept going. So many smiles and well wishes kept her spirits up as she went back to the library, and picked out another six books.
The next day, she took them into herself, and this time, while there was a headache, it was far, far less. She was able to head to her next class, impressing another teacher with her skills, and meaning that, all total, she had garnered almost a hundred house points, giving her a warm feeling as she went to bed that night, sure that there was nothing in the school that could spoil her mood.