Rewritten Destiny

In the quiet suburb of Crawley, a young girl named Hermione Granger sat at her desk, books and papers strewn around her. She looked the same, with her bushy brown hair and inquisitive brown eyes, but something had fundamentally changed. She had woken that morning feeling groggy after falling asleep reading A Winter’s Tale, her favorite book (namely because she was named after a character in it).

Waking up a little dazed, confused, and with the mother of all headaches, she caught herself in the mirror and did a double take. "What!?" she shrieked.

“Hermione, is everything okay, dear?” called a woman's voice from downstairs.

“Yes, Mom, everything’s fine.” Mom? How the hell did I know she's my mom? And then her world spun. She literally fell out of her chair, hitting the floor with a thud.

“Hermione, what was that bang? I’m coming in.” Her mother’s voice grew closer, tinged with concern.

The door opened, and a woman with kind eyes and worry etched on her face stepped in. "Sweetheart, are you alright?"

Hermione—or rather, the soul inside Hermione—looked up, her mind racing. She had been someone else before this, in another life, another world. But now, she was Hermione Granger. "I'm fine, Mom. Just... tripped."

Her mother sighed in relief, helping her up. "Be careful, dear. Breakfast is ready when you are."

As her mother left, Hermione sat back on her bed, trying to process the flood of memories and sensations. She was Hermione Granger, a ten-year-old girl who was about to turn eleven in three days. But she also had memories from another life, another world, where Harry Potter was just a series of books and movies.

"Okay," she whispered to herself, taking deep breaths. "I can handle this. I'm a smart girl. I just need to take it one step at a time."