Rewritten Destiny

After leaving Ollivanders with a wand, Hermione focused on the next item required on her letter, books. As they walked along the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley, Hermione's eyes darted from shop to shop, each one more fascinating than the last. The scent of magical herbs and freshly baked cauldron cakes wafted through the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and chatter from witches and wizards around her. It was a bustling, vibrant place that seemed to pulse with life.

 

Hermione's heart skipped a beat as they reached Flourish and Blotts. The storefront was a beautiful display of stacked books, some infused with magic and others with brightly coloured labels obviously aimed at children, she mused. She pushed open the door, a little bell tinkling to announce their arrival, and stepped into the cozy, book-filled haven.

 

"Welcome to Flourish and Blotts!" a cheerful witch behind the counter called out. "Let me know if you need any help finding your schoolbooks."

 

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to ask if I have any questions”.

 

Rows upon rows of books stretched out before her, each one whispering promises of untold knowledge and arcane mysteries. Her fingers brushed lightly over the spines, lingering on titles that sparked her curiosity. Advanced Arithmancy, Ancient Runes for Modern Practitioners, Magical theory…

 

But it was a weathered volume nestled in a dimly lit alcove that drew her attention—a tome with a faded title that seemed to shimmer with hidden potential: Occlumency: An Introduction. Opening the first page to confirm this is what she needed and chocking on the dust in doing so, she reads the first page.

 

Congratulations, dear reader, for stumbling upon this humble tome. If you find yourself perusing these pages, it is likely because you possess the uncanny ability to broadcast your innermost thoughts like a Muggle radio station on full blast. Fear not, for help has arrived—at least for those whose intellect can grasp the subtleties of Occlumency.

 

Now, before we delve into the intricacies of guarding your mind from intrusion, it's imperative to address the rather obvious fact that you've managed to live this long without the faintest idea of how to shield your thoughts. Truly, it's a wonder you've made it this far without inadvertently revealing your deepest desires to anyone within earshot.

 

But fret not, for you've finally recognized the error of your ways and have taken the first step toward rectifying your mental ineptitude. With a bit of luck and a considerable amount of effort, you might just emerge from these pages with a semblance of mental fortitude.

 

So, dear reader, brace yourself for a journey into the realm of Occlumency—a realm where the naive are swiftly separated from the cunning, and where the art of guarding one’s mind is reserved for those with the wit to comprehend its complexities. If you're still here, I suppose there's hope for you yet. But don't get too comfortable; your mind is far more vulnerable than you realize.

 

Hermione letting out a snort of laughter at the words in the book had to agree with the writer, she would need to make up for that “mental ineptitude”. Placing the book in her basket, that floated around after her, she continued buying the rest of the books for the year along with some books on duelling and basic self-defence, she remembered the stories she read of the first year, fluffy, dragons and a demented dark lord who’s attempts to grasp his sanity was like trying to catch a Snitch blindfolded.

 

As Hermione navigated through the aisles of Flourish and Blotts, her mind buzzed with excitement at the prospect of diving into the world of magical knowledge. With "Occlumency: An Introduction" safely tucked into her basket, she perused the shelves for additional texts to complement her studies. Titles like "Duelling for Beginners" and "The Art of Self-Defence in a Wizarding World" caught her eye, which considering the rather foreboding message from Ollivander, she felt was going to be her top priorities.

 

As she moved from section to section, her attention was drawn to a peculiar sensation—a faint whispering that seemed to echo in the depths of her mind. At first, she dismissed it as mere imagination, the result of spending too much time immersed in the magical atmosphere of Diagon Alley.

 

She finished her collection of buying books, much to her parents surprise.

 

“Hermione, are you sure you’re done already? Normally we’d be stuck here for hours whilst you’d be looking to pitch a tent and camp out” she said with a mix of concern and amusement.

 

“Well mom” she said thinking of how to explain she’s not the same person as of a few days ago “It’s all a little much, my entire life has changed overnight, I’ve been told I’m a witch and I have no idea where to start or what to worry about, I mean it’s basically a different country to Britain, yet there’s no advice on cultural differences, I’m more worried about offending someone than some more books”.

 

Emma looked at her daughter with a surprised look, not expecting her bookworm and antisocial daughter to realise this as she had never really shown the people skills to make friends, she was happy thinking her daughter was fixing what was probably her biggest regret, her lack of friends. “Well, that’s a very mature outlook Hermione, perhaps we should check in at Gringotts with the.. Goblins and see if they have anything, honestly, you’d think the school would have suggested this, do they not offer a class for muggleborns?”

 

Hermione, checked the list of classes and clubs Professor McGonagall had provided her and there was nothing on the list for this.

 

“Doesn’t appear so Mom”

 

“Really? Well.. that’s almost like someone is setting you all up to fail, we’ll have to make sure you get the help you need for this, also.. we need to have a chat with you when we get back home” she said with some trepidation.

 

Hermione scowled at the tone, not missing the look on her mothers face “OK mom, but can we have a look at the pet store, they’ve said I can take a pet and I think an Owl would be a great idea so I can write to you at School”.

 

With the weight of her new knowledge pressing against her chest, she decided to venture into Magical Menagerie, the pet shop located just across the street.

 

The bell chimed as she pushed open the door, and a wave of warm air enveloped her. The shop was bustling with activity—cages and tanks filled with all manner of magical creatures lined the shelves, each one emitting its own unique sound or emitting a distinct odour. Hermione's eyes scanned the room eagerly, her heart fluttering with anticipation.

 

She approached a display of owls, their bright eyes gleaming in the dim light. A particularly majestic snowy owl caught her attention, its feathers ruffled as it surveyed the room with a regal air. Hermione saw the owl and spoke to her “you must be Hedwig, would you like to come with me?”

The Owl looked at Hermione and nibbled her finger but decided to fly back onto her perch and not leave with the girl.

 

“Well, I’ll be, that owl is usually vicious with anyone who even looks at her, gotta admit, I’m a bit disappointed she didn’t want to go wiv’s ya”

 

Hermione agreed “Well, that just means she must have her eye set on someone else”.

 

Disappointed but undeterred, Hermione continued her exploration of the Magical Menagerie. She moved past the owls and toward a section filled with cages containing a variety of exotic creatures. As she walked, she couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment at Hedwig's rejection. It seemed her hopes of finding a loyal companion had been dashed.

 

Her attention was drawn to a cage containing a sleek, black cat with bright yellow eyes. The cat regarded her with a cool, aloof expression, its tail flicking lazily from side to side. Hermione approached cautiously, unsure of how the creature would react to her presence.

 

"Hello there," she said tentatively, extending a hand toward the cat. "Are you looking for a new home?"

 

The cat regarded her with disdain, its gaze unyielding. Hermione withdrew her hand, feeling a pang of rejection. It seemed that her attempts to find a pet were doomed to failure.

 

As she turned away from the cat, her eyes fell upon a cage tucked away in the corner of the shop. Inside was a small, unassuming snake, its scales shimmering in the dim light. Hermione felt a strange sense of curiosity stir within her—a feeling she couldn't quite explain.

 

Approaching the cage, she knelt down beside it and peered inside. The snake regarded her with a curious expression, its tongue flicking out to taste the air. Hermione felt a strange connection to the creature—a connection that she couldn't ignore.

 

"Hello," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you looking for a friend?"

 

To her surprise, the snake responded, its voice a soft hiss that seemed to echo in her mind. "Yes," it replied, its tone tinged with loneliness. "But I fear I will never find one in this place."

 

Hermione's heart skipped a beat as she heard the snake's response. She had never encountered a talking snake before, let alone communicated with one. The realization dawned on her—she was a Parselmouth, a rare and often misunderstood ability.

 

A shiver ran down her spine as she considered the implications of her newfound talent. Parselmouths were often associated with dark magic and Slytherin House, and she feared the judgment and prejudice she might face if others were to discover her secret.

 

"Are you alright, dear?" the shopkeeper asked, noticing Hermione's sudden change in demeanour.

 

Hermione forced a smile, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions. "Yes, I'm fine," she replied, her voice trembling slightly. "I just... wasn't expecting that."

 

The shopkeeper nodded sympathetically, unaware of the true cause of Hermione's distress. "It can be quite surprising to discover the hidden talents of magical creatures," he said kindly. "But don't worry, this little guy is harmless. He just needs someone who understands him."

 

Hermione nodded, her mind still reeling from the revelation. She couldn't deny the sense of connection she felt with the snake, a bond that transcended language and species. But she also couldn't shake off the fear of what others might think if they were to learn the truth.

 

Taking a deep breath, Hermione made a decision. She would keep her ability to speak to snakes a secret, at least for now. It was a part of herself that she wasn't ready to share with the world, a secret that she would guard with her life.

 

With a sense of determination, Hermione reached out and gently opened the cage door. The snake slithered out, its movements graceful and fluid. It regarded her with gratitude, its eyes shining with intelligence.

 

"Thank you," it hissed softly, its voice filled with warmth.

 

Hermione smiled; her fears momentarily forgotten. "You're welcome," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think we're going to be great friends."