Rewritten Destiny

The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains of Hermione's bedroom, casting a warm glow on the room's cluttered but cozy interior. Books and papers were strewn across her desk, remnants of her intense study sessions. Hermione sat on the edge of her bed, her mind still reeling from the vivid and strange dreams she had been having lately. The flashes of other lives and distant memories were both fascinating and disconcerting.

 

Her mother knocked gently on the door before entering, a concerned look on her face. "Hermione, can we talk?"

 

Hermione looked up, her thoughts still distant. "Sure, Mom. What's on your mind?"

 

Mrs. Granger sat down beside her daughter, her eyes filled with a mix of worry and love. "I've noticed you've been quite... different lately. More withdrawn, maybe even troubled. Is everything okay, sweetheart?"

 

Hermione hesitated, the dreams and visions swirling in her mind. She felt a lump form in her throat, unsure of how to begin explaining the confusion and turmoil she felt without revealing too much. "I... I'm not sure, Mom. I've been having these strange dreams. It's like there's something I can't quite grasp, and it's really confusing."

 

Her mother took a deep breath, her expression serious yet gentle. "Hermione, before your birthday—before you received your letter—you were going through a very difficult time. You seemed so sad, so distant, and no matter how hard we tried, we couldn't reach you. Do you remember any of that?"

 

Hermione frowned, shaking her head slowly. "No, not really. Everything before my birthday is kind of a blur."

 

Mrs. Granger sighed softly. "Hermione, you were... very depressed. You stopped talking to us, spent all your time alone in your room. You even missed school a few times. We were so worried about you. And then, just a few days before your birthday, you seemed to change overnight. You became more focused, more determined. We thought you were starting to feel better."

 

A heavy silence settled between them. Hermione felt a pang of guilt and sadness, realizing how much her parents must have worried about her. "I had no idea," she murmured. "I'm so sorry, Mom."

 

Mrs. Granger wrapped her arms around Hermione, pulling her into a tight embrace. "It's not your fault, sweetheart. We just want you to be happy and safe. Whatever you're going through now, you don't have to face it alone. We're here for you."

 

Hermione clung to her mother, the warmth and reassurance grounding her in the present. After a moment, Mrs. Granger pulled away, her eyes filled with a mixture of determination and sorrow.

 

"Hermione, there's something I need to show you," her mother said softly, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small, folded piece of paper. Her hands trembled slightly as she handed it to Hermione. "I found this in your room, tucked into one of your books, just before your birthday."

 

Hermione unfolded the note, her heart pounding as she read the familiar handwriting:

 

*"Dear Mom and Dad,

 

I'm so sorry. I can't do this anymore. The loneliness, the bullying, it's too much for me to handle. I feel like I'm drowning, and no one can save me. I love you both so much, and I wish I could be stronger, but I'm just not. Please forgive me.

 

Love, Hermione."*

 

Hermione paled drastically, is this why she was here now? Had the little girl followed through with this? The dread that filled her mind at this thought was all she could bear. The anguish was palpable, a stark reminder of how lost and alone she had felt when she first woke up here.

 

Mrs. Granger watched her daughter with a pained expression. "When I found this, I was terrified. I didn't know what to do. But then, as if by a miracle, you seemed to get better. You found new strength, new purpose, and then we found out you were a witch. I'll be honest with you, I wasn’t going to let you go and learn magic, but if this is what brought you back, then we’ll embrace it, even if it terrifies us. I didn't want to bring it up and risk upsetting you, but I can't keep this from you any longer. I need you to know how much we love you, how much we care."

 

Hermione hugged her mother tightly, tears streaming down her face. "I don't remember writing this, I have no memory of it,” she said, her voice trembling. She pulled away from her mother and looked into her eyes with a determined gaze. “But don’t worry, I won’t be giving up without a fight."

 

Mrs. Granger smiled through her tears, holding Hermione's hands tightly. "That's my girl. Just remember, no matter what happens, we are here for you. Always."

 

The two sat there for a while, enveloped in the warmth of their shared love and support. Hermione knew the path ahead would be challenging but she never expected to feel like this, she felt like an imposter, a thief, a fraud. But she couldn’t let girls sacrifice be in vain, and her last wish was for her parents to not feel sorrow over loosing their daughter. Pulling up her resolve, she thought to herself “Then I’ll make them my family, I can’t bring her back, but I can at least do this for the poor child”.

 

As they finally stood up, ready to face the day, Hermione made a silent vow. She would honour the memory of the girl who had felt so lost and alone, she would conquer anything in her path and fight with everything she had.

 

Hermione spent the rest of the day immersed in her studies, trying to push the troubling thoughts to the back of her mind. Her parents had always been her rock, and knowing they were there for her gave her the strength she needed to continue. She delved into her books, eager to learn more about the magical world that had become her new reality.

 

As she pored over the pages of "Hogwarts: A History," she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and trepidation. The history of the school was fascinating, filled with tales of bravery, friendship, and the pursuit of knowledge. But there were also darker stories, of conflicts and dangers that lurked within the castle's ancient walls.

 

Yet, as much as she was engrossed in the magical world, the reality of her immediate future loomed before her. She had to return to Muggle school for her final year in primary school. The prospect filled her with a mix of dread and frustration. She had the mind of an adult and was far beyond the curriculum of a typical eleven-year-old. Spending another year surrounded by children, pretending to be one of them, seemed like an insurmountable task.

 

The first day back at school was a blur of familiar routines and faces. The classroom buzzed with chatter as children caught up with friends and shared stories about their summer holidays. Hermione sat quietly at her desk, her mind elsewhere. The trivial conversations and childish antics around her felt so far removed from her current reality.

 

Miss Stevens, their teacher, began the day with a cheerful welcome. "Good morning, class! I hope you all had a wonderful summer. This year, we're going to be focusing on some exciting new topics."

 

Hermione forced a smile, trying to appear interested. She knew the material would be simple for her, but she had to play the part. As the lessons progressed, she found herself completing assignments quickly and efficiently, often finishing before anyone else had even started, luckily this wasn’t unusual behaviour for the old Hermione, so whilst a little faster and not an enthusiastic as her old self, no one batted an eyelid.

 

During lunch break, Hermione sat alone at a table, nibbling on her sandwich. She watched as her classmates ran around the playground, playing games and laughing. It was hard not to feel isolated.

 

One afternoon, as Hermione walked home from school, she felt a growing sense of restlessness. She needed to do something, this was an itch she had to scratch and if she had to listen to screaming children any longer, she would blow her top. The idea of spending another year in primary school felt like a waste of time.

 

That night, she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She had been practicing wand movements and incantations in secret, but she knew it wasn't enough. She needed to experience magic firsthand, to push the boundaries of her knowledge and skills.

 

The following week, Hermione's frustration reached a boiling point. She decided to take matters into her own hands. One morning, instead of going to school, she made her way to the bus stop. The Knight Bus was a magical means of transportation she had read about, and she was determined to find it.

 

With a deep breath, she held out her wand and summoned the bus. With a loud bang, the triple-decker, purple bus appeared before her. Stan Shunpike, the conductor, greeted her with a wide grin. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Where to, miss?"

 

"Diagon Alley," Hermione said confidently, stepping aboard.

 

The ride was bumpy and chaotic, but Hermione didn't mind. She was finally taking control, exploring the magical world on her own terms. When they arrived at Diagon Alley, she stepped off the bus and marvelled at the bustling street. Shops lined the cobblestone road, each one filled with magical items and artifacts.

 

Hermione wandered through the alley, taking in the sights and sounds. She visited Flourish and Blotts, where she bought a few more books on advanced magic. She marvelled at the apothecaries, with their shelves lined with potion ingredients. The sense of wonder and excitement was overwhelming.

 

However, her curiosity soon led her down a narrow, shadowy alleyway. The atmosphere changed abruptly, becoming darker and more foreboding. She had unknowingly entered Knockturn Alley, a place she had read about but never intended to visit.

 

The shops here were sinister, filled with dark artifacts and unsavoury characters. Hermione's heart pounded as she realized her mistake. She turned to leave, but her path was blocked by a tall, cloaked figure.

 

"Lost, are we?" the figure sneered, his voice low and menacing.

 

"N-no, I was just leaving," Hermione stammered, trying to edge past him.

 

"Not so fast," he said, grabbing her arm. "What brings a little witch like you to Knockturn Alley?"

 

Hermione's mind raced. She needed to get out of there, but she couldn't use magic without drawing attention to herself. In a moment of desperation, she pulled out her wand and pointed it at him, hoping to scare him off.

 

"Let me go," she demanded, trying to sound brave.

 

The man chuckled, clearly unfazed. "You think you can scare me with that stick? You're just a child."

 

Before she could react, another voice cut through the tension. "Let her go, Travers."

 

A tall, imposing witch with sharp features and piercing eyes approached. The man released Hermione, glaring at the newcomer. "Mind your own business, Rosier."

 

Rosier's gaze didn't waver. "She's not worth the trouble. Move along."

 

Grumbling, Travers backed off and disappeared into the shadows. Rosier turned to Hermione, her expression unreadable. "You shouldn't be here. Knockturn Alley is no place for a young witch."

 

"I know. Thank you," Hermione said, dropping the façade of a scared little girl and provided the coldest look she could with her young face “I’m very much aware of the .. people who do business here”.

 

Rosier studied her for a moment before nodding. "Be more careful. And get back to Diagon Alley."

 

Hermione hurried back to the safety of Diagon Alley, despite acting like it hadn’t affected her, that wasn’t entirely true, she was positive she just met 2 Death Eaters and the fact she couldn’t defend herself was troublesome.

 

As she made her way through Diagon Alley, she overheard a conversation between two wizards standing near a shop selling enchanted objects. Their words caught her attention, and she stopped to listen discreetly.

 

"I hear the Ministry's been cracking down on underage magic lately," one wizard said, his voice low.

 

"Yeah, they're using the Trace to monitor wands," the other replied. "But it's not as foolproof as they make it sound. The Trace is only activated when students cross the lake to Hogwarts. Until then, it’s only the general detectors, but they can’t tell who cast it”.

 

Hermione's eyes widened. This was the information she needed. The Trace was linked to the wards at Hogwarts, meaning she had a window of opportunity to practice magic without detection. She had been cautious until now, but this revelation opened up a lot of options (and would hopefully stop her going crazy surrounded by children all day).

 

Feeling more confident, Hermione continued playing hooky. She visited various shops, asking questions and trying to understand as much about the culture of her new world, she wouldn’t end up looking some hick from the sticks like the Hermione Granger from the books did to the purebloods.

 

With a determined look in her eyes, Hermione formulated a plan. She would visit Diagon Alley again, but this time, she would explore further, learn more, and seek out knowledge that would help her in her journey.

 

The next morning, she left for school as usual, but instead of heading to the classroom, she made her way to the bus stop. She held out her wand, summoning the Knight Bus once more. This time, she was prepared, her mind focused on her goal.

 

"Diagon Alley," she told Stan Shunpike, stepping aboard with confidence.

 

The ride was just as chaotic as before, but Hermione's determination kept her steady. When they arrived at Diagon Alley, she stepped off the bus, ready to explore.

 

She visited various shops, learning more about potions, magical creatures, and enchanted objects. She spoke with shopkeepers, asking questions and absorbing information. Each conversation added to her understanding, filling in the gaps in her knowledge.

 

As she wandered through the alley, she overheard a group of older witches and wizards discussing magical wards and protections. Intrigued, she listened carefully, learning about the different types of wards and their uses.

 

She discovered that the Trace was indeed linked to the wards at Hogwarts. It was placed on students' wands when they crossed the lake, binding them to the school's magical protections. Until then, underage magic was harder to track, especially in areas with high magical activity like Diagon Alley.

 

This information was a revelation. Hermione realized she could practice magic more freely than she had thought. She was a little confused why so many people were talking about this in the open, you’d think it was some closely guarded secret, but then again, how much magic can an untrained 11 year old do.

 

Back at home, she continued her studies with renewed vigour. Each spell she mastered, each piece of knowledge she acquired, brought her closer to her goal. She was determined to be the best witch she could be, to face the challenges ahead with courage and confidence.

 

The months passed, and Hermione's frustration with school remained, but she found solace in her secret studies. She practiced magic diligently, honing her skills and expanding her knowledge. She had changed her focus on learning however after having already memorised the spells years 1-2 and theory behind it, her focus now was learning all the customs of the wizarding world, she wanted to hide her muggleborn heritage for as long as possible and considering there was a Dagworth-Granger as a famous potioneer it was entirely possible especially if she feigned being insulted when referred to as muggleborn, she realised she would need to know more about potions, their interactions with other materials and ingredients to sell the rouse.

 

As the end of the school year approached, Hermione felt a growing sense of anticipation. She had made it through the year, enduring the monotony and isolation, but she had also grown stronger and more capable. She was ready for the next chapter of her life, ready to face the challenges and adventures that awaited her at Hogwarts.

 

On the last day of school, as her classmates celebrated and said their goodbyes, Hermione felt a sense of liberation. She had endured the frustrations and limitations of her ‘mundane life’ (she chuckled at the joke), but now, she was free.

 

With a final glance at her old school, Hermione turned and walked away, her mind and heart set on the adventures that awaited her at Hogwarts. She was ready to embrace her destiny, ready to become the witch she was meant to be.

 

The transition from the Muggle world to the wizarding world was not without its challenges. Hermione spent the summer preparing for her new life, focusing heavily on potions and customs.

 

Her parents, while supportive, were also concerned. They had seen the changes in Hermione, the way she had thrown herself into her studies and the growing distance between her and her peers. They worried about the pressure she put on herself, the isolation she felt.

 

One evening, as they sat down for dinner, Mr. Granger spoke up. "Hermione, your mother and I have been talking. We're proud of how dedicated you are to your studies, but we also want to make sure you're taking care of yourself. It's important to find a balance."

 

Hermione looked up from her plate, surprised by the concern in her father's voice. "I know, Dad. It's just... there's so much I need to learn. I want to be ready for Hogwarts."

 

"We understand," Mrs. Granger said gently. "But remember, it's okay to take breaks, to enjoy yourself. You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders."

 

Hermione nodded, appreciating their concern and getting the unmentioned issue her mother was obviously worried about “Don’t worry, I understand the need for a break and I will make sure I take them, I will not crumble from a little work, or because some children don’t like me, that’s their loss and problem”.

 

Her parents exchanged worried glances but didn't push the matter further. They knew how determined Hermione was, and they wanted to support her in any way they could.

 

As the summer progressed, Hermione continued her studies but also made an effort to spend time with her family. They went on outings, visited museums, and enjoyed simple pleasures together. It was a welcome break from her intense focus on magic, and it helped to strengthen the bond between them.

 

The night before she was set to leave for Hogwarts, Hermione lay in bed, her mind racing with thoughts of the future. She felt a mix of excitement and nervousness, but above all, she felt ready. She had worked hard, prepared herself, and now, she was ready to face whatever awaited her at Hogwarts.

 

With a deep breath, Hermione closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift into a peaceful sleep, her dreams filled with visions of the magical world that awaited her.

 

The next morning, she woke early, her heart pounding with anticipation. She dressed quickly, checked her trunk one last time, and made her way downstairs. Her parents were waiting for her, their expressions a mix of pride and sadness.

 

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Mrs. Granger asked, her voice filled with emotion.

 

Hermione nodded, her eyes shining with a little sadness at leaving her family "Yes, I'm ready."

 

They loaded her trunk into the car and made their way to King's Cross Station. The journey was filled with a sense of anticipation, a feeling that something extraordinary was about to begin.

 

At the station, they made their way to Platform 9¾. Hermione felt a thrill of excitement as she saw the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. She knew this was the gateway to her new life, to the magical world she had been dreaming of.

 

With a final hug and words of encouragement from her parents, Hermione stepped through the barrier, her heart pounding with excitement. She emerged on the other side, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the sight of the Hogwarts Express.

 

The train was a magnificent sight, its scarlet engine billowing steam. Students and their families bustled about, saying their goodbyes and preparing for the journey ahead. Hermione felt a sense of belonging, a feeling that she was finally where she was meant to be.

 

She found an empty compartment and settled in, her heart filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness.