Rewritten Destiny

The first night at Hogwarts had been filled with a restless sleep for Hermione. Unable to sleep, she had been going over her Wizarding Genealogy book she’d borrowed from Daphne to see who was related to whom and she stumbled across some rather interesting information, yes she could work with this.

 

The students filed into the dungeon classroom for their first Potions lesson, their chatter echoing off the stone walls. The room was cold, lit dimly by flickering torches. Shelves lined with mysterious ingredients stretched from floor to ceiling, giving the place an eerie feel. Hermione took a seat on the table next to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, this was her first chance to observe them and see how they lived up to the story she knew.

 

Professor Snape entered with his characteristic dramatic sweep of robes, his mere presence enough to silence the room. His dark eyes scanned the students, lingering on Harry before moving on.

 

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Snape began, his voice a menacing whisper that filled the room. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

 

He paused, his eyes once again fixing on Harry. "Potter!" he snapped. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

 

Harry looked taken aback. He stammered, "I—I don't know, sir."

 

"Tut, tut—fame clearly isn't everything," Snape sneered. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

 

Harry's confusion deepened. "I don’t know, sir."

 

"And what is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

 

"I don’t know, sir," Harry repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

 

"Clearly, fame isn't everything," Snape repeated, his disdain evident. "Let's see if Miss Granger knows." He turned his gaze to Hermione, who had been sitting quietly, her hand not raised.

 

"Miss Granger?"

 

Hermione took a deep breath, steadying herself, she had planned for this. "Powdered Asphodel and Essence of Wormwood are ingredients used in the Draught of Living Dead" she began. "Bezoars are undigested clumps of matter that accumulate inside a digestive system of Goats and can cure most poisons. Monkshood and wolfsbane is commonly said to be the same plant, which is incorrect, Monkshood produces light indigo-blue flowers, while Wolf's Bane produces whitish or straw-yellow flowers, however for the purposes of potions are highly toxic but strong painkillers, hence the usage in Wolfsbane to reduce the pain from the transformation.” That should be an answer you’d expect from a potion’s prodigy from the Dagworth-Grangers.

 

Snape’s expression was unreadable, though a hint of respect flashed in his eyes. "Five points to Slytherin for Miss Granger’s correct answers."

 

Hermione's reply was met with surprised glances from her classmates, particularly Draco, who seemed impressed. But Hermione's mind was already elsewhere, watching the dynamics of the classroom and planning her next steps. She noted how Snape used questions to undermine Harry, a tactic that she knew would be a constant obstacle for him, but she could use this to promote herself, aligning herself with Harry or rather Potter, may undermine her relationship with Snape, and his potions knowledge was too valuable for that.

 

As the lesson continued, Hermione maintained her detached demeanour, taking notes and observing her classmates. Ron Weasley, sitting next to Harry, was glaring at Snape with barely concealed animosity. She mentally categorized him as hot-headed and impulsive, traits that would likely lead to trouble.

 

As the lesson continued, Snape directed the students to brew a simple potion. Hermione set to work, meticulously following the instructions, her movements precise and deliberate. She couldn't help but notice the apprehension in her classmates, especially Harry and Ron, who were struggling with their mixtures.

 

Snape prowled the classroom, making scathing comments and criticizing students’ efforts. When he reached Harry and Ron’s table, he sneered at their potion, which was emitting a foul odour and looked nothing like it should.

 

"Pathetic," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Clearly, you two have not been paying attention. Maybe if you spent less time talking and more time listening, you might actually learn something."

 

Hermione glanced at Harry and Ron, who were both red-faced with embarrassment. Yes, definitely hot heads, they were going to be trouble.

 

By the end of the class, Snape called for the students to stop. He examined each cauldron, making snide remarks as he went. When he reached Hermione’s, he paused, looking down at the perfectly brewed potion.

 

"Acceptable," he said grudgingly. "Miss Granger, you seem to have a talent for this. I expect you to maintain these standards."

 

"Yes, Professor," Hermione replied, her voice steady.

 

As they packed up their things, Snape called out, "Miss Granger, a word."

 

Hermione approached his desk, feeling a mix of apprehension and determination. Snape regarded her with a piercing gaze. "Miss Granger, I trust you will continue to meet these standards in my class. The Dagworth-Granger family has a long history with Hogwarts, particularly in potions, much like your distant cousin, Hector”

 

Hermione looked repulsed “Please, do not ever compare me to him” she nearly spat with just enough volume for her classmates to hear.

 

Snape's eyes narrowed, and he lowered his voice, the classroom now almost empty. "I would advise you to temper your tone, Miss Granger. While you may have personal reasons for your disdain, it does not excuse disrespect towards your ancestors or your instructor."

 

Hermione took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Professor Snape, I understand the importance of family history, but Hector’s views and actions are not something I wish to be associated with under any circumstances” she stated with all the bitterness she could, even though she had rehearsed this, she really did loath what the man focused his research on.

 

Snape's expression seemed to lose it's vitriol and was replaced with curiosity . "Very well, Miss Granger. I suggest you focus on excelling in your studies. The wizarding world may judge you by your name, but it is your achievements that will define you."

 

Hermione nodded, it appeared he had taken the bait. "I understand, Professor. Thank you."

 

"One more thing, Miss Granger," Snape added, his tone softer. "Keep in mind that our choices, not our names, truly define who we are. You have the potential to make a significant impact. Do not squander it."

 

With that, he dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Hermione turned and walked away, her mind racing with thoughts. She had laid the given the bait, now to see if Snape took it, she knew hector

 

Outside the classroom, Harry and Ron were deep in conversation, their faces still flushed from the encounter with Snape. Hermione watched them from a distance, her expression inscrutable. They were important, she reminded herself, but that didn't mean she had to like them.

 

Hermione gathered her books and stepped out into the corridor, the murmur of students filling the air. She was deep in thought about her conversation with Snape when she felt a presence beside her. Turning, she found Draco Malfoy walking alongside her, his expression one of curiosity mixed with something more calculating.

 

"Granger," Draco began, his tone casual but his eyes sharp, "that was quite the conversation you had with Snape. I didn't realize you had such strong feelings about Hector Dagworth-Granger."

 

Hermione maintained her composure, knowing that Draco's interest could either be a nuisance or an opportunity. "It's a family matter," she replied coolly. "Hector's research and views are not something I align myself with."

 

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. I've read a bit about him. His work in potions is quite renowned, if controversial. I wouldn't have guessed you had such a personal connection."

 

Hermione shrugged, acting as if it was a big deal to sell the ruse. "Everyone has skeletons in their closet, Malfoy. I'd rather focus on my own path."

 

They walked in silence for a moment before Draco spoke again, his voice lower. "So, what's the plan, Granger? You're not just here to be a star student. I can tell you're up to something."

 

Hermione glanced at him, evaluating his intentions. "And why would you be interested in my plans, Malfoy?"

 

Draco smirked. "Let's just say I have an eye for ambition. And I recognize it in you. There's more to Hogwarts than just classes and house points. Alliances can be... beneficial."

 

Hermione pondered his words as they approached the Transfiguration classroom. Draco's offer was tempting; having an ally in Politics could prove useful. But she also knew the risks involved in trusting a Malfoy not to mention Draco was young, and prone to the usual teenage outbursts that came with it, no it would be better to hold off until she was too valuable a commodity and his father instructed him to do this.

 

"I'll keep that in mind," she said finally, giving him a measured look. "But for now, I have my own goals to focus on."

 

Draco nodded, seemingly satisfied with her response. "Fair enough, Granger. Just remember, even the best-laid plans can benefit from a well-placed ally."

 

 

As Hermione made her way to History of Magic, she couldn't shake the curiosity that had gripped her since finding her grandfather's name in the Wizarding Genealogy book. Professor Binns, the ghostly history teacher, was notorious for his monotonous lectures that made it nearly impossible to stay awake.

 

Hermione settled into her seat, the musty smell of ancient parchment filling the air as Professor Binns drifted through the blackboard. His voice droned on about the Giant Wars, but Hermione’s mind was elsewhere. She discreetly pulled out the Wizarding Genealogy book from her bag and resumed her reading.

 

Her eyes scanned the pages, searching for any mention of "Harold Granger." She found the entry again: "Harold Granger – Squib." A Squib, she recalled, was a non-magical person born to magical parents. This revelation about her grandfather added another layer of mystery to her family's history.

 

The discovery was bittersweet. On one hand, it explained why her parents, both dentists and seemingly ordinary Muggles, might have had magical lineage. On the other, it raised more questions about her own magical abilities and her place in the wizarding world.

 

Lost in thought, Hermione barely noticed as Professor Binns’ lecture continued. She pondered over how her grandfather’s status as a Squib might have affected his life and choices. Was he aware of the magical world? Did he feel out of place among his magical relatives? And most importantly, why was this history not known to her parents?

 

The hours in History of Magic passed slowly, and Hermione continued to dive deeper into the book, finding nothing else in there other than that she was, a distant cousin of Hectors, this she could work with.

 

After class, she headed to the library, seeking more information about Squibs and their roles in the wizarding society. She found that for a witch to be considered pure-blooded, they needed to have 2 wizarding grandparents, so didn’t this mean that she wasn’t muggleborn? Because, if you follow the definition to the letter, if a child has wizarding grandparents, then she IS considered a pure blood, even if his parents are NOT wizards themselves. So, a Half blood at least then if anyone challenged her on it.

 

The classroom was filled with the quiet hum of students settling into their seats, all eagerly anticipating the lesson. Professor McGonagall, a strict but fair teacher, began with a brief introduction to Transfiguration.

 

"Transfiguration," she said, her eyes sweeping over the class, "is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

 

Hermione's attention was immediately captured. She opened her notebook, ready to absorb every word. Professor McGonagall continued, explaining the theory behind Transfiguration, and then wrote the Transformation Formula on the board:

 

T = a * v * w * c * Z

 

She turned to the class, her expression serious. "This formula represents the fundamental elements involved in Transfiguration. The intended transformation, T, is directly influenced by the following variables: bodyweight (a), viciousness (v), wand power (w), concentration (c), and an unknown variable (Z)."

 

Hermione's hand shot up before she could help herself. "Professor, what does the unknown variable represent?"

 

Professor McGonagall smiled slightly, appreciating the curiosity. "The unknown variable, Z, represents factors we have yet to fully understand. It could involve the inherent magical qualities of the object being transformed or the caster’s magical affinity. What we do know is that materials are easier to transform into similar things; a matchstick to a needle is used because the shape and mass are not particularly different, but the material poses the real challenge.”

 

This immediately had Hermione thinking. She wondered if it was related to atomic structure, much like how coal and diamonds are both made of carbon but differ in their atomic arrangement caused by heat and pressure.

 

The practical part of the lesson involved transforming a matchstick into a needle. Professor McGonagall demonstrated the spell, and the class watched in awe as the matchstick in her hand turned into a shiny, sharp needle with a simple flick of her wand.

 

"Now, it's your turn," she said, her eyes twinkling with challenge.

 

Hermione took a deep breath, focusing on the matchstick in front of her. She recalled the formula and considered the spell the teacher had used. The spell was very generalized, ‘Transfiguro.’ Her studies had included Latin, as the spells were based on it, so she tried something different without a wand movement. "Aku-sig-nis," she whispered.

 

Her matchstick immediately changed into the needle she had imagined. She thought the idea of concentration might be misinterpreted and was actually the ability to imagine the process and end result.

 

Professor McGonagall walked around, inspecting the students’ attempts. When she reached Hermione's table, she paused, examining the perfectly formed needle.

 

"Impressive, Miss Granger," she said, a hint of approval in her voice. "Five points to Slytherin."

 

Hermione beamed with pride, noting the envious glances from her classmates. She had proven her prowess in Transfiguration and earned points for her house. But more importantly, she had discovered a possible new approach to spellcasting

 

Charms class with Professor Flitwick was equally captivating. The diminutive professor, standing on a stack of books to see over his desk, greeted them with an enthusiastic wave. "Welcome to Charms! Today, we will be learning a simple yet essential charm: Lumos."

 

Hermione’s heart raced with excitement. The Lumos charm was used to produce light from the caster's wand, a fundamental spell in any witch or wizard's repertoire.

 

"Lumos," Professor Flitwick demonstrated, his wand tip glowing brightly. "This charm is useful in dark places and can be modified for various uses. Remember, it's all about concentration and intent."

 

Hermione practiced the wand movement, a subtle flick, and the incantation. "Lumos," she whispered, and her wand tip glowed faintly. Encouraged, she tried again, this time focusing on the intent behind the spell. "Lumos!"

 

Her wand shone brightly, illuminating her face. But Hermione wasn’t satisfied with just producing light; she wanted to understand its potential. What if the charm could be modified to respond to emotions?

 

As the class ended, Hermione stayed behind to ask Professor Flitwick. "Professor, is it possible to modify the Lumos charm to change colour based on one's mood?"

 

Professor Flitwick’s eyes sparkled with interest. "Ah, an advanced question! Yes, Miss Granger, it is possible. Such modifications require a deep understanding of both the charm and the caster’s emotional state. You might start by experimenting with the colour-changing charm, Colorvaria, in conjunction with Lumos."

 

Eager to experiment, Hermione spent her free time in the library, researching both charms. The next evening, she decided to try her idea. In her dormitory, she cast Lumos and then added the incantation for Colorvaria, focusing on her feelings.

 

"Lumos Colorvaria," she whispered, her wand glowing softly at first and then shifting through a spectrum of colours as she thought of different emotions. Happiness made the light warm yellow, sadness turned it a deep blue, and excitement made it pulse a vibrant red.

 

Her roommates, Daphne and Pansy, were amazed. "Hermione, that's incredible!" Daphne exclaimed, watching the colours change.

 

Hermione smiled, pleased with her progress. "Thanks. It is just a start.”

 

She was rather happy with her start to Hogwarts, especially please with the way she had handled the Potions class and Snape’s questions, it was common knowledge about the Dagworth’s expertise with Love Potions and it created a way to attack their credibility and stage a realistic feud. Anyone who started asking questions would now probably avoid asking them directly due to the family drama and if anyone did it wouldn’t seem strange if they refused to answer now.

 

She could have had this conversation with any Slytherin who’d asked about potions or her family, but Snape made a better medium to those in power to add some credibility, after all, even if you dispute a rumour, it only fuels it. With Snape’s potions background he’d know about love potions, and her reaction to Hector would create enough connections for Snape to jump to conclusions. Snapes own family history, with an abusive father would make him rather sensitive to any form of abuse, and she was banking on it. And if he didn’t go to Lucius or Narcissa, she knew the students had overhead her outburst and it would surely get back to their parents.

 

It was with these thoughts that brought a smile to her face, before she retired for the evening.