Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

Hermione Granger's parents were very proud of their daughter. She was always the top of her class, and before she started school she could already read and write and do simple math. Throughout her first couple school years, teachers would always gush over what a bright child she was.

Still, her second grade teacher wanted to call a meeting for some reason, and so her parents had agreed to meet after work that Wednesday. In fact, they'd had to close the dental office early in order for both of them to get there, but had instructed Hermione not to mention that to her teacher, in case they came across as looking angry. Hermione looked up at the clock above the whiteboard. 4:01pm. Not like them to be late. She began twisting her bushy hair in her fingers, wondering where they were.

It wasn't easy to wait in the classroom. During the day there were things to distract you from the stuffy air from the windows that didn't open, or the loud ticking of the cheap clock likely found in a bargain store somewhere. Hermione wished she had a water bottle, it was very dry in this room and she was feeling cotton mouthed.

Marlene Jacobs was seated behind a beat up desk when Hermione's parents came in. Her hair, which looked like it might have been in a tight bun in the morning, was now falling out a bit, and there was a strand hanging in her face. She looked as though she'd gotten about six hours of sleep that week put together, but still managed to put on a smile when the Grangers walked in. "Hello Mr and Mrs Granger. Thank you for making it down here like this, I know you keep busy office hours."

Hermione was seated at her desk in the front row. She thumbed at the tape around the colourfulnametag stuck to her desk, and pulled up the edge of it a little bit. She knew she would regret making such a mess of it later, but for now, it was all she could do to keep from having an anxiety attack. This was the first time she'd ever been kept after class.

Before the Grangers could reply to her greeting, Ms. Jacobs looked at Hermione, "My dear, would you mind waiting in the hallway? This won't take very long, and I would like to speak to your parents privately if you don't mind."

Hermione grabbed a book out of her desk and made eye contact with her mother on the way out the door. Her mom smiled at her and said "don't worry dear, we will be out right away." and opened the door for her. "and besides, we are right here if you need us." Hermione went through the door and it shut behind her.

The school was an old building and she found that she couldn't help but to overhear. Well, couldn't help but overhear if she was sitting as close to the door as possible and straining, but the truth wouldn't have to be stretched much if it came to it.

In the time it took her to shift into position she had already missed a few sentences. She heard Ms. Jacobs say "...the first few years of school are extremely important for children. There is not much else that has such a strong impact as primary school. I'd venture to argue that it is just as formative as the lessons and experiences a child has at home." Hermione could hear her father starting to object, but Ms. Jacobs continued,

"Please Mr Granger, I am not quite finished. You see, in primary school, and especially in the first few years, children are leaving the haven of their home for the first time. Usually by second grade, children have made some friends and are used to having a teacher. I don't think Hermione has any problem with the second part, but she does appear to be a bit socially alienated. The truth is that a child met with exclusion and ridicule will likely grow up to distrust other people. I'm worried Hermione isn't having the easiest time finding friends here."

Hermione looked down at her novel and set it beside her, hugging her legs into her chest. It was true, she didn't get along well with many of the other children, but why did that matter to Ms. Jacobs? There was no grade assigned for friendship.

"Now, those concerns certainly have some weight. However," Hermione heard her mother say, "she is just a gifted child. Perhaps the problem could be solved by placing her in the grade ahead? She does all of her homework within fifteen minutes of getting home anyway, and you've hardly called us here to discuss her understanding of the material."

Ms Jacobs sighed heavily. "Students have a hard time accepting children socially who are younger than they are. In a non-school setting its fine, but in classes I've seen it happen many times where a student becomes more isolated than they already were."

Hermione balled her hands into fists as she listened, and soon she could see white moons on her nails from pressing them into her palms. Was she doomed to be alone forever? Her chest got tight as she tried to keep herself from crying. She focused on the in and out of her breathing.

It seemed like forever before any of them spoke again. "Also, there have been some strange incidents involving the children teasing Hermione. It sounds crazy, but things like all the milk becoming sour in the cups of children teasing her, but none of the other children. Maybe they brought vinegar or something in themselves, and had it pre planned. It wouldn't have been possible to be Hermione, and she didn't get punished, but the point is that things have escalated past the point of what we consider at this school to be healthy for a child." Ms. Jacobs lowered her voice, and Hermione could barely hear when she said, "The other students have taken to calling her a witch."

It wasn't true that she hadn't been punished at all for the milk incident. The students had all been made to apologize to each other, even though she had not done anything wrong. Hermione had had to stand up in front of the entire class and apologize.

"What I'm saying is, Hermione may be more comfortable at another school altogether. There's a very common group phenomenon, especially at this age: inclusion through exclusion, to tighten a group by excluding people from it. I think that's what..."

Whatever Ms. Jacobs was saying was suddenly cut off by a sound like a branch snapping, only much louder. Hermione jumped up out of fright and looked around. A big crack had appeared in the wall just behind her. She started in to the classroom, but her parents burst out the door before she'd so much as taken a step.

As soon as she saw her parents she blurted an apology. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry. I was just sitting here reading, I never meant to! You have to believe me that I didn't mean f-f-for…" but she wasn't able to finish because she started to cry.

At once the teacher and her parents assured her that there is no way she could have caused such a thing. "Hermione, that simply wouldn't have been possible for you. This is an old building. It is just an unfortunate coincidence." said her mother.

"Anyway I think we've heard enough for today Ms. Jacobs. Hermione is obviously very upset and we're going to bring her home now." says Hermione's father. Hermione grabbed her mother's hand and started down the hall toward the door, leaving her father to say goodbye to her teacher.

Still crying, on the way out Hermione looked up to her mother and choked out "You're not going to send me to another school, are you?"


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm planning on taking the entire Harry Potter series and rewriting it from Hermione's perspective. To do that, I'm going to need some help from the readers, just to know you guys are reading and interested. Please read and review so that I can be involved with you every step of the way on this!**

It was a hot day in late June and the last day of Hermione Granger's school year. Anxious to get out of her sweaty school clothes, she raced up the path to her house. She was eleven now, and it was a somewhat recent privilege to be able to walk home from the nearby school by herself.

Although happy to have the summer at her disposal for independent study, she couldn't help but think about her teacher Ms. Jacobs from years ago. She said Hermione may be more suited to a different school. They hadn't switched, but perhaps the teacher had been right. Socially speaking, things weren't easy for Hermione before or since.

Her parents came home and asked some questions about her last day. It was a routine Hermione was well used to. Still, she answered them in a disinterested tone, just to keep them happy. Halfway through one of her father's questions, her mother pulled a very large lollipop out of her bag. Hermione immediately forgot what her father was talking about to look at the candy. The spiraled rainbow pattern was fun in and of itself, but it was very rare for her parents to surprise her with sweets.

"Its your end of the year present dear. For all your good grades." her mother explained. "Don't eat it now though, it will be dinner soon."

Later, while the family was cleaning up their dishes from supper, there was a knock at the door. Hermione's parents were doing the dishes together, so she went to answer it herself. At the door was a woman not much younger than her mother wearing in a strange sort of dress, and she exclaimed "You must be Hermione Granger!"

Hermione took a step backward. Looking down at the floor, she said, "Yes, how do you know my name?" There weren't many good explanations for why somebody may be here looking for her, unless of course this woman was a friend of her parent's and they'd happened to share the fact that they had a daughter at some point. She exhaled slowly. Yes, that must be it.

"Mum! Dad! There's somebody here at the door!" she called back into the house.

When all were gathered at the door, the woman pulled out an envelope from a briefcase that Hermione was now noticing for the first time. On the envelope was the name Hermione Granger. "Hello Mr. and Mrs. Granger, my name is Lisa Dupree. I am here to offer your daughter a spot at a very special school. Do you have a moment?"

Her parents exchanged a look, but her father ended up saying "Yes, please, come inside. I believe we've just put the kettle on."

"I am here to offer Hermione a spot at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"That cannot be true. Unless you have a serious offer for my daughter, get out of my house." her father demanded, standing up out of his chair. For her part, her mother crossed her arms over her stomach and looked quite uncomfortable.

However, the woman representing Hogwarts would not be shaken. She explained that she was from the Ministry of Magic, and pulled out a long red coloured stick. Pointing it at the remote control on the table, the woman said "Wingardium Leviosa", and up it flew.

Mr. Granger was turning a shade of dark pink that Hermione was certain couldn't mean good things for his blood pressure. "Look, lady, I don't know how you did that, but I know for a fact that magic is not real."

"If that demonstration was not enough for you, and indeed it is not enough for most families, is there perhaps an item in your house that needs mending? There will be no further harm done to the object, and I am fairly sure I can fix it, given it is not mechanically complex."

Ms Dupree was speaking loudly enough for Hermione to hear her throughout her sentence, but halfway through, she had run to her bedroom. She had barely stopped talking when Hermione thrust a small porcelain doll into her hands. It was missing an arm, and had been that way for years.

"Reparo!" Ms Dupree said, training her wand at the doll. The parts fused back together instantly, and it was as if it was new from the store.

"How did you do that?" her mother asked, speaking for the first time since they'd sat down in the living room.

"Magic." was the short but friendly reply.

The rest of the night was a blur as a few more demonstrations were made and many questions were asked, but ultimately it was decided that Hermione would enroll for now, with the option to pull out before summertime began. She couldn't tell if her parents were relieved or more worried when they discovered that there was a secret wizard shopping area where she would need to buy her supplies.

Before bed, Hermione tried as best she could to change the colour of her hair. Of course, it wouldn't work. "maybe I just need a wand" she muttered to herself as she was falling asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione squinted as she tried to adjust her sight to the dim lighting of the Leaky Cauldron. Ms. Dupree had not come along with them, but had given them a map and told her parents exactly how to get there. To Hermione, specific instructions had been passed along regarding how to get through The Leaky Cauldron to Diagon Alley.

Now inside the pub, she took a good look around. She had never been inside a real pub before. It may be dark, but it was full of interesting looking patrons. At one table, Hermione saw a man with a greying beard and maroon robes who appeared to be in a discussion with a toad. The toad, for its part, did seem to be looking at the man, but did not make any reply that Hermione could detect. Whether or not he could actually speak to the toad was unclear, but he certainly looked like the stereotype of a wizard. Apparently her parents thought the same thing because they walked quite a bit more briskly past his table.

Hermione had asked Ms. Dupree several questions about the Leaky Cauldron before they got there, so she knew it had been around for nearly a half century. Wizards weren't immortal though, she'd asked that as well. The original landlord was a woman, and not the grey haired man smiling at her and her parents right now. This man, Hermione knew from Ms. Dupree, was named Tom, and he had been the landlord here for some time.

"Off to Diagon Alley are you? First time?" Tom asked, his grin getting wider. He was well dressed, but his age showed in his wrinkles and the slight hunch in his back. When Hermione's family made no reply, he came around the bar. "Well, follow me, I'll show you where to go."

Tom led them to a brick wall, where he knocked on the bricks Hermione had been told to knock on to get through. She watched him perform the task she had been looking forward to, and when the passage opened she only frowned. "I wanted to do that!" she complained. Her parents hurriedly thanked him and scuttled through the passage.

"Hermione," her mother scolded "I understand this is new and exciting for you, but you have to remember your manners. Especially since we don't know anything about these people…" she lowered her voice to a whisper, "or what they can do."

Hermione nodded, but she quickly lost interest upon seeing an impressively large building with a sign saying Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Inside, the hustle and bustle of the bank, the first thing Hermione noticed was that all the staff were even shorter than she was, with round heads and long fingers. One of these creatures, she would later find out he was a goblin, was counting out the strangest coins she'd ever seen to a red headed woman with several red headed children tailing her. She was so busy staring at this, that she barely noticed her mother tugging on her sweater to leave the bank.

Although she was excited, the rest of the trip through Diagon Alley seemed almost a blur. The woman who fitted her for robes at Madam Malkin's knew exactly what size she would need almost before she got through the door, and with magic to pack everything, the lines were extremely efficient. She lingered for some time in Flourish and Blotts, and convinced her parents to buy her a copy of Hogwarts, a History.

Next was a cheery looking shop called Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. They stopped in and each had one scoop. There were the strangest flavours Hermione had ever heard of, everything from lemon sorbet to turkey dinner. Strangest of all was a "mystery flavour" that promised a different taste with every bite. The cherry cheeked old man behind the counter winked at Hermione when she asked and said "Just like a Bertie Botts Bean!", but she didn't know what he meant. The rest of the shops blended together, with the exception of the apothecary her mother had to wait outside of, until they got to Ollivander's.

Heading into Ollivander's, Hermione noticed it was pretty crowded. Kids seemed to have boxes and boxes in front of them, the way you might have a pile of boxes in front of your feet at a shoe store. The display to the store was very simple as well, only a single wand on a purple pillow._ Must be the only wand shop around, to get away with being so dirty_, Hermione thought.

Inside, it was just as dirty as the window display. She noticed boxes going up as high as they could, and it looked like a few deep as well. The man behind the counter, presumably Ollivander himself, didn't seem to be taking requests from the children, merely bringing them boxes at what seemed like random. He was a thin man with bushy grey hair, not unlike Einstein, she thought. Up in the top of one of the columns, one of the boxes began to wiggle its way out.

With the kind of reaction time being a lifelong owner of a shop kept in a state such as this one could have, Ollivander (or at least, she thought it was him), leapt for the box. He caught it just before it met what would have been an untimely end. Setting the box on the counter, he looked around for the witch or wizard responsible. The only new person in the shop was Hermione herself. "Come here, child." he said to her.

Hermione looked up at her parents, but they only moved forward with her. They were taking all of this very well, she thought. Up at the counter, the wand was moving more violently than ever. All of the older witches and wizards in Ollivanders stopped to watch, this was clearly something remarkable, but the reason why was totally escaping her.

"Young lady," Ollivander started while lifting the wand out of the box, "this has only happened to me twice before in all my years of wand selling. The wand chooses the wizard, sure enough, but it is vanishingly rare that the wand is so certain before the wizard even sees it."

He placed the almost white wand into Hermione's palm, and it let out a few orange sparks. She jumped back but didn't drop it. She grinned and studied the leaf pattern carved into it, much different than many of the wands she saw around her, which were smooth.

"So, you mean she hasn't got any choice? How much are these anyway?" her mother asked, looking around at the other children, some of whom clearly had 3 or 4 wands before them.

"Please madam, calm down. I take it you are a muggle? The wand chooses the wizard, it always happens that way." he paused to take the wand back from Hermione to put it in its box. It began a soft vibration almost immediately. "This wand is made of vine wood, and wands made of vine are very sensitive to knowing who their best match is. They nearly invariably choose owners who are looking for a purpose greater than themselves, and with a dragon heartstring core, I think it's safe to say your daughter is a fast learner, with a good heart? She deserves this wand, and I'm not sure we'll find another that would even suit her. As to the price, these wands are all in and around the same range, although the vine woods are a bit more because they are so uncommon."

The crowd watching began to dissipate, but many people were still watching. It was clear to Hermione that it must be true this was not an everyday event. "Please let me have that one, mum. I'll be really careful. I think you have a wand for life, so its a good investment regardless."

Her mother opened her purse and put the exact change for the wand on the counter. Ollivander surrendered the wand in its box to Hermione, and she put it with the rest of her school supplies.

In the following weeks, Hermione poured over her new textbooks, stopping to note down in a thick notebook every time she came across a new spell. She also put them onto flash cards, and by the time she had to board the train to Hogwarts, she knew most of the first year spells by sight. She couldn't wait to learn to actually do them.


End file.
