Rewritten Destiny

 

Hermione was lost in her thoughts, staring out of the carriage window, watching the rolling countryside pass her by. The rhythmic chugging of the Hogwarts Express had a calming effect, lulling her into a drowsy state as the scenery blurred in a patchwork of green and gold. She leaned her head against the cool glass, letting her eyes drift closed, the tension of the past few weeks slowly slipping away.

 

The summer had been anything but restful. Between the ritual that had solidified her inheritance and the endless hours spent poring over ancient texts, Hermione felt like she hadn’t truly relaxed in months. She absentmindedly twisted the silver heir ring on her finger, the symbol of her connection to the Dagworth-Granger line, now as much a part of her as her wand.

 

Just as she was about to nod off, the compartment door slid open with a sharp clatter, jolting her from her thoughts.

 

“Hermione!” Draco Malfoy’s voice broke through the sleepy haze as he stepped inside, his usual smirk already in place. “You’re not planning on sleeping through the start of term, are you?”

 

Hermione blinked a few times, sitting up straighter, a sleepy smile tugging at her lips. “Hah, thanks Draco, I nearly dozed off then, how as your Summer?”

 

Draco shrugged, sliding into the seat opposite her with his characteristic casual grace. “It was fine,” he said, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “Spent most of it traveling with my parents. Father’s business, as usual. You know how it is.”

 

Hermione nodded, her smile lingering as Daphne and Blaise entered the compartment behind him, taking their usual spots. The easy camaraderie between them all had been a relief over the past year, something that Hermione hadn’t quite expected when she first arrived at Hogwarts.

 

Daphne settled beside Hermione, her eyes sharp as ever. “You look exhausted,” she commented, her voice matter-of-fact. “Summer been that hard on you?”

 

Hermione laughed lightly, trying to shake off the weariness she still felt. “You could say that. It was... intense. Lots of studying and preparing.”

 

Blaise leaned back in his seat, glancing at the ring on her finger. “And the ring,” he added knowingly. “That’s what you were really preparing for, wasn’t it?”

 

Hermione glanced down at the heir ring, the weight of it more than just physical. “Yeah,” she admitted softly. “It’s... official now. The Dagworth-Granger line. It feels a bit strange wearing it, honestly.”

 

Daphne nodded thoughtfully, but it was Blaise who spoke next, his tone shifting slightly. “I saw the article in the Daily Prophet about Hector Dagworth-Granger,” he said carefully, watching Hermione’s reaction. “It must have been a shock.”

 

Hermione’s hand instinctively tightened around the ring at the mention of Hector. The Daily Prophet had run the story a few weeks back—Hector’s sudden death had stirred up quite a bit of talk in the wizarding world, especially given his family’s significance in potions and alchemy.

 

“It was,” Hermione replied, her voice a little quieter. “He was the last of his line. I suppose I’m technically from a cadet branch of the family, but now... it all falls to me.”

 

There was a pause as the weight of her words sank in, but it didn’t last long. Blaise, ever the one to press for more information, tilted his head thoughtfully. “Why you, though?” he asked, his tone curious but not unkind. “Wouldn’t it have gone to your father? Or your mother? They’re still around, after all.”

 

Before Hermione could answer, Daphne shot Blaise a sharp look. “Blaise!” she admonished, her voice filled with disapproval. “That’s a personal question. Don’t pry.”

 

Blaise raised his hands in mock surrender, though there was still a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “Just wondering, that’s all. It’s not every day we hear about ancient family lines.”

 

Hermione, grateful for Daphne’s intervention but not wanting to leave the question hanging, took a breath before answering. “It’s all right, Daphne. I don’t mind explaining—just briefly.”

 

She glanced down at the ring, the weight of her family’s history and the decisions made generations ago pressing against her. “It’s complicated,” she began, choosing her words carefully. “The magic tied to the Dagworth-Granger line...” she paused for a moment, then continued. “The inheritance has specific requirements, and it’s... selective. That’s why it passed to me instead of them,” Hermione finished, her voice trailing off as she absentmindedly twisted the ring on her finger.

 

Daphne offered her a soft smile, clearly sensing the weight of the conversation. “Well, regardless of how it happened, you’re the heir now. And honestly, it suits you.”

 

Hermione chuckled lightly, grateful for Daphne’s attempt to lighten the mood. “Thanks, yes the ring is certainly fasionable if nothing else” she replied with a wry grin.

 

Draco stretched out lazily, draping his arm across the back of the seat. “Enough about that. How did everyone else’s summer go? I was stuck listening to my father’s endless lectures on ‘family responsibilities’ and making appearances at the most mind-numbing parties imaginable.”

 

Blaise grinned, leaning back in his seat. “At least you got to travel. I was stuck in England the whole time. Mother was obsessed with trying to make ‘proper matches’ for me. I swear, I couldn’t go anywhere without her dragging some girl in front of me like I was a prize to be won.”

 

Daphne rolled her eyes, smirking. “Sounds like the usual Zabini family drama.”

 

Blaise sighed dramatically. “You have no idea. But at least I got some time to myself after all that nonsense.”

 

Hermione smiled as she listened to her friends banter, the earlier tension dissipating as the conversation shifted to more mundane topics. It was a welcome distraction from the weight of her own summer, filled with rituals, ancient texts, and secrets she couldn’t share.

 

“What about you, Daphne?” Hermione asked. “Anything exciting?”

 

Daphne waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, just the usual. Family gatherings, a bit of traveling. Nothing too exciting. Mostly, I just studied. You know how it is.”

 

Hermione nodded. “I know the feeling. I think we’re all going to be more prepared this year.”

 

The train ride passed comfortably after that, with lighthearted conversation and laughter filling their compartment. They caught up on the little things they had missed over the summer—new clothes, family gossip, and speculation about what the year ahead would hold.

 

As the Hogwarts Express began to slow, the familiar sight of Hogsmeade Station appeared outside the window. Hermione felt a flutter of excitement as the train came to a stop, the familiar bustle of students gathering their things and disembarking filling the air.

 

They grabbed their bags and made their way toward the platform, joining the stream of students headed toward the carriages that would take them up to the castle. The cool evening air was crisp, a gentle breeze stirring as they walked across the grounds.

 

But as they approached the carriages, Hermione’s footsteps faltered. For the first time, she saw them—Thestrals. Their black, skeletal bodies, with bat-like wings and hauntingly empty eyes, stood stark against the autumn landscape. The sight sent a chill through her, and she froze on the spot.

 

Draco, walking ahead, turned back to her when he noticed she wasn’t following. “Hermione? You okay?”

 

She swallowed, nodding slowly, but her gaze was still fixed on the Thestrals. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just... I can see them.”

 

Draco’s brows furrowed, and he followed her line of sight. “See what?”

 

Daphne’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait, you can see them?” Her voice was filled with concern. “Hermione, you’ve seen—”

 

Hermione ripped her attention from the, of course she could see them, the fact she didn’t anticipate this was silly considering how she got here, she shock herself and turned to Daphne “We don’t want to be late, lets hurry inside”. Daphne didn’t look happy with the attempt to avoid the question but complied and climbed into the carriage.

 

There was a brief silence as her friends processed this revelation. For all the teasing and playful banter they shared, this was something more serious—something that shifted the atmosphere between them.

 

Blaise, being uncharacteristically blunt. “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to. We understand.” Daphne immediately gave Blaise a look that could have turned him to Stone if he’d noticed.

 

Hermione offered them a small, grateful smile. “Thanks. I’m fine, really. It’s just... strange seeing them for the first time.”

 

Daphne, always quick to soften a tense moment, gave her a reassuring smile. “Well, let’s not dwell on it. Come on, we’ve got a whole year ahead of us.”

 

---

Hermione sat at the Slytherin table, surrounded by her friends, but something gnawed at her, a subtle unease that she couldn’t shake. She scanned the hall quickly, her gaze flicking between the familiar faces at the Gryffindor table.

 

Her heart sank as she noticed two glaring absences: Harry Potter and Ron Weasley weren’t there.

 

Hermione frowned, her mind racing. The absence of Harry and Ron could only mean one thing: the timeline hadn’t changed. The diary, she thought grimly. Tom Riddle’s diary must still be in play.

 

She considered this, she realised she hadn’t actually done anything to prevent the things from happening, but did that mean that Lucius had targeted Ginny again? Butterfly effect could mean anything was possible at this point, she’d need to check for the diary and plan around it.

 

Lost in her own thoughts she missed most of the sorting