Chapter Text
Hermione granger was an orphan. And had been for a while now, since the age of 8 in fact. And she hated it with every fibre of her being.
For starters the women at the orphanage despised her. Coming to the orphanage at the dead of night as a crying and sniffling 8 year old set them with a mindset of irritability when interacting with her, and it slowly turned to despise as her regular bouts of accidental magic came along. Things that the dreary staff (and anyone with rational minds) couldn't explain.
So they did what they do best. Or rather, what mankind does best. Fear it. Going as far as to attempt to get rid of it. For the faculty were "stewards of god" and such "devil-work" had no place in their St Mary's home for bereaved children. At first they tried to beat it out of her. Daily. She almost winces every time she thinks back to the times of constant bruises and welts that littered her body. Each inflicted with a multitude of kicks or belt lashes in their hatred for her. She can never forget the look on their eyes. One of glee. Even with the slight audacity to show amusement. They took pleasure in her pain, as if she were a toy. It was then that hermione realised she couldn't trust anyone in this world, not even those who are meant to protect her.
Eventually due to her reaction depletion (constant beatings made her pain tolerance increase, less susceptible to such easy pain), they took to isolation. Countless hours and days spent alone, isolated and quiet, with only her thoughts to keep her company. It would make anyone sane go mad. Locked away under lock and key, with only a dirty mattress and a thin itchy sheet for an uncomfortable substitute of a blanket. It was here she was told to "pray it away" and pray she did. She prayed to rid herself of this torture, prayed for her to become "normal". Of course such prayers were never answered. Leading to her second lesson, to not rely on God to help.
Hermione through this abuse learnt to quickly control her magic, to ensure she got to grips with it so that she wouldn't showcase her power. Unstable control, but control nevertheless. And the women, satisfied with their "cure" finally relented. They ignored her majorly, giving her and all children a set list of chores to complete, and reinstated her back at school (they were "homeschooling" her for the time being).
It was here that hermione learnt some semblance of peace, everyday after school she would be able to walk by the woods and read the book she had chosen, she loved listening to the birds chirping and the squirrels scuttling through the trees. And the trees swaying in the wind, branches quietly hitting eachother and leaves rattling noisily. She lived for quiet moments like these, for they were the only things that kept her sane.
One day, however, around the age of 9, as she did her usual rounds of the forest; she came across a harmless garden snake. Startled, she stepped back and tried to regain her bearings, when she could swear she heard it speak, so she stopped, crouched down, and spoke back.
"Hello, who might you be"
"Oh? A speaker? I've never met someone who can. I am ajundé. Who might you be?" The snake quirked its head in intrest, curiously waiting her response
" I am Hermione Granger, and what do you mean a speaker? It is you who can understand the english language."
"No, child. You are speaking in a language snakes speak with. You and a few other gifted individual throughout history have such an ability."
"There are others like me?"
"Yes child, I've only heard about them in passing, few possess this ability to understand, and even fewer to speak." it paused, thinking of its next question "Who might your parents be?"
A certain solemn tone enveloped her, thinking about her mother "I am an orphan, my mother is dead. I never knew her father"
"I see, I do not know much but I can tell from your ability, that you are a powerful girl, one who will soon be able to do great things"
From that day on, Hermione took to conversing with the snake about a plethora of topics, and through these regular visits a regular smile appeared on her face. Her very first friend.
Her 10th birthday flew by without celebration as well as the many months that came after it. The caretakers, often left her alone, of course with a few hits here and there but never as much as before. And her regular meet-ups with ajundé never faltered. Her year was, in all honesty, mundane, or as mundane as it gets for her. Until a woman appeared
This woman greeted the orphanage caretaker, Mrs Bennate tentatively, as if she was trying to find the correct place. Hermione made a noise somewhat akin to a snort. What would make this woman want to come here? The impoverished, decrepit orphanage, where the children are scruffy and the clothes are too big for them. And her accent too. Odd. She'd never met a Scottish person before.
Hermione was so lost in her thoughts that she almost missed the womans eyes lingering on her, the woman had looked at her, and through that moment of eye contact caused the woman to smile. Hermione didn't smile back, choosing to leave instead, she wanted nothing to do with her.
Choosing to retreat back to her room and eventually went back to reading when a knock came about her door. It was the woman again, who closed the door behind them, leaving only hermione and herself inside it.
"Hello, how do you do" hermione asked cautiously, curious as to what the woman could want from her.
"I am fine, thank you, I'd like to ask you a question, Miss Granger."
Hermiones heart started to pound, frantically thinking back to all that she'd done to make this woman come here for her. Did she find out about me speaking to snakes? No it can't have, she was always careful in watching her surroundings. In fact she was more scared of the other thing
Hermione, assumed to be a pleasant child at school, often a quiet one who found the company of books more intresting than the company of humans. One that despite getting the highest grades in the class, didn't really want to interact with the class themselves. However she had a secret desire that she had kept to herself. And that is how she liked to hurt things.
It started off small, an ant or spider here, but then the desire got bigger until eventually she took to rabbits and even foxes. She carried around a small Swiss army knife she had knicked from a shop a while back and often took to stabbing the animals until she watched the light leave out their eyes. She knew what she was doing was wrong so she had a routine; she'd commit this act of sin then feed majority of the parts to her companion ajundé who loved her efforts (hermione was a stickler for wasting things, especially how growing up, she barely had anything of her own). Her second rule was that she wouldn't indulge in it too much, just once or twice a month.
So yes, it doesnt help that this woman has decided to come and speak to hermione so much as a day after her sinful indulgence. So hermione forces upon a small smile, a subtle curve of her lip and a calm voice bordering on sweet to give it that subtle touch of innocence saying that
"Yes, I'd be happy to answer whatever questions you'd like to ask."
Professor McGonagall now took a brief moment to inspect her room. It was neat, tidy, orderly, almost too much for a child her age. It was as if bordering on obsessive. And it was even seen on the girl. Dressed in brown trousers and an old grey sweater it was as if she picked clothes consciously to avoid stains appearing. Furthermore they didn't look ironed, but there weren't too many creases, something that McGonagall had seen on the other kids as they walked around the house. This girl was different. She cared about her appearance, and how she presented herself.
Furthermore to her, it also seemed the young girl had a very inquisitive mind. Old torn books lay in stacks on the floor, books on history and science, maths and English, it was all there. What McGonagall also noticed was that the books were not for her age rather for older children. 'She appears to have above average intelligence'. She thought taking a look at the girls very haphazard hair, wild and unruly, covering her eyes which made her appear almost intimidating. 'She'd make a fine ravenclaw, no doubt about that.'
What came out the womans mouth, however, was not what Hermione expected
"Have you ever done anything you couldn't explain? Shattered a glass when angry? Or levitated something you wanted? Or caused hives on a bully?
Hermione stifled a giggle at the last one staying silent as she contemplated. It was not as if she showed it. She refused to show anything more than she needed to.
The second issue was that she didn't fully trust the woman. Here she comes storming in one afternoon asking questions that if the caretakers should know the truth, would lock her up and throw away the key.
"No."
"Are you sure? Is there another miss granger I should know about."
"Just me to my knowledge." She quipped quietly, already treating the woman as if she were about to leave, walking over and sitting on her bed, pulling out a book from under her pillow. She could wonder about the circumstances later, as of now, she'd just have to tolerate the woman long enough for her to be satisfied and leave.
"You see... I can do magic too."
"Show me." Hermione said quickly, taking her eyes off the page to stare unrelenting at the woman.
She obliged of course. Raising what hermione thought to be as a stick before after a subtle hand movement, levitated a small book off the stack she had in the corner, it hovered for a while, moving the way the woman wanted it to before the woman carefully released its hold allowing it to fall into Hermiones hands.
"Is that enough proof"
Hermione stayed silent, staring back at the woman, before nodding. She couldn't refute it, it made sense anyway, if Ajundé said that people could talk to snakes she had assumed there are others with similar if not exact abilities as herself.
"I suppose it is"
She said after a while. She said nothing more as she waited for the woman to continue
Minerva knew the girl was from an orphanage, often regarded as horrible practices, and also realised that she hadn't shown something to the poor girl. That she could trust her, and just because she's now accepted the fact that she shares the same affinity, she must appeal to her less skeptical mind to take up her offer.
"i had wanted to be more curteous but it seems you are the type that would like to get to the crux of the topic as soon as possible. Hermione, you're a witch, and that is why you have this ability. It is a marvellous thing to have and its why I, Professor McGonagall am inviting you to attend my school" she said, holding a letter to hermione saying 'Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry'
"And what makes you think I'd want such an offer?" Hermione is not stupid. That is at least for sure. She knew that in the regular normal world she could go far, finish her GCSE's with A*'s, sixth form will come next to finish her O levels at some prestigious school she gets a scholarship from, enabling her to get grades and extracurricular suitable enough for Oxford, or Cambridge University. She had a goal. One in fact. To leave this life entirely. The orphanage, with its broken doors, damp ceilings giving off a rather disgusting odour, and the people who either beat her or stayed silent in her suffering.
And now this...woman comes around, claiming to be from a school to teach her magic? Sure she proved herself but how is she to see the potential in it all? She was aiming for power, for the spot at prime minister. And she wouldn't give that up easily
"Tell me, what are the advantages of such a school?"
"Well first you are able to control your magic-"
"I can already control it just fine."
"You can meet likeminded people-"
"I've survived this long without them, it's not a necessity." Voice slightly laced with irritation. Hermione didn't really like interacting with people. She was awful at making friends before the orphanage, and even worse at it during it. The kids steered clear of her and so the only friend she had made was ajundé and he was a snake goddammit.
It bothered her at first. Majorly. But now it was all but routine, an ever present loneliness that she's used to. She didn't care much for friends, nor did she care much for enemies, none of it was appealing to her, and she was starting to get rather bored.
"Then how about this. You'd learn more than what you ever could in a muggle school. And with the qualifications you get can assimilate almost seamlessly into the magical world and its occupations."
This. Piqued her intrest. "What type of occupations?"
"You could work in the ministry - the equivalent in muggle society is parliament, could work as a healers - doctor, business woman, journalism - the point is Miss Granger. That there are occupations to choose from, often aligning with the muggle world in its own ways. You will not be stunted in your education should you choose magic"
She paused for a second. Considering the appeal of it all. Her mind and body despised mundainity. She was special, reguardless of her magical affinity. And she wanted more - much more - than the life she had now. McGonagall seemed to have taken her silence however as contemplation to which she furthered her points
"And finally, Miss granger. It is a boarding school, a place for you to live and to enjoy life. Far away from the orphanage. I'm sure if the other reasons don't appeal to you then that surely will."
The woman was right, it had appealed to her. And so for the timebeing she'd trust the strange woman, and see how it goes.
"I'll accept...on one condition."
"Which is?" The woman replied rather quickly, seemingly desiring to get this over and done with sooner rather than later
"I continue my muggle studies. The bases throughout my time there. At the very least maths and English, sciences are debateable for the time. And if I should ever desire leaving such a world, I'll go back to the one I was brought up in. Those are my terms"
"Are you sure? Balancing the two works might prove difficult in the future, especially as the work load increases."
"I've had no issue balancing my schoolwork, you don't need to worry... professor"
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Hermione and McGonagall went to grab supplies over which she was also told how this whole endeavor must remain a secret. Hermione did not refute this, the less people knew the better, especially at the orphanage. McGonagall told the orphanage caretakers how she got a scholarship to a boarding school. A lie which was easily believed due to her stellar marks and upon arrival to Diagon Alley she was signed up for the funding for disadvantaged children at gringotts (giving her 20 galleons which must be spent carefully)
Hermione was going from shop to shop to grab all of her supplies, asking brief questions to the professor and she was routinely given a rather diplomatic answer from the woman, which she was rather greatful for.
On Professor McGonagalls side, she was rather taken aback by how calm the girl was, her eyes did not shine in excitement like hers did, she did not run to shops beaming from ear to ear but walked calmly, checking out each book with the utmost scrutiny, debating which ones she'd have to put back due to lack of funds. It was not an experience to which she seemed to enjoy nor despise, but instead it was a necessary thing one must endure. Professor McGonagall knew that the girl had grown up far too quickly, but this only heightened such feeling of pity even. A mind and ability like hers in a place like that... it didn't take a genius to know she had suffered because of it.
And it was during hermione internal debate on whether or not the 'beginners guide to transfiguration understanding' or 'the in depth debates on charm uses and techniques' was around the time that Professor McGonagall seemed to have caved, feeling a slight bit of pity for her due to her disadvantaged means. This was the only time that the girl shot her a proper smile, a genuine feeling of happiness washed over her and her face contorted into a position that, upon looking at the girls face afterward seemed to have felt almost foreign. Hermione muttered a small "thank you" before putting the books onto the counter all being fabulous beginner's guides to her topics.
She did not know much about the girl, how long she had stayed in the orphanage or what happened to her parents either. It was an unfortunate thing, seeing a child go through that, even more unfortunate that she still had to endure it.
Now she was down to the final thing. Her wand. And so she pushed the door to Olivanders to obtain it.
Hermione regarded him as scruffy, almost like a mad scientist, with the dark apron, quirky goggles and his manner of speech that had a hint of eccentricity, he was kind through and told her how
"The wand chooses the wizard, or in this case, the witch" he said giggling like a little kid. It was clear the man enjoyed his job, that much was obvious.
The man didn't say much at first, but rather handed her a wand from a dusty old case
Hermione picked it up and instinctually flicked her hand...eventually causing the shop windows to explode. Expecting to see Mr olivanders wrath she inhaled deeply only for him to shrug and say "clearly not that one, try this instead". It was here that hermione realised that such reactions are common for witches and wizards finding their wands, so with more confidence she repeated the process again...and again... and again. She could see the frustration on olivanders face, trying to decipher her lack of partnership with a wand.
It was around this time that he actually bothered to truly make her acquaintance.
"So who are you miss Granger?"
"Pardon, sir?"
"Who are you? Traits? Characteristics? It's more often than not that the wand and wizard have a connection through their personalities."
"Wands are sentient?"
"Wands are...well... Wands I suppose. Magic flows in its wood, and we channel ours through it. I heard about a blind boy a century ago who's wand helped him sense things, as if it were his eyes. You see now?"
"I suppose." She didn't really but even so, it seems they were things those who make them don't fully understand.
"Now, back to my other point say things about yourself"
"I'm smart, read a lot of books sir"
"Ah! So you have your nose stuck in a book eh? A ravenclaw it seems! And a fine one at that. Try this now, unicorn hair, made of Vine wood 10 inches."
She tried it out, whisking her hand swiftly, it glowed at first and he was about to congratulate her until it started to flicker and sputter, almost like an old engine.
"We are getting there Miss Granger, we will find your wand soon enough." He now disappeared further into his shop, calling out to her "What do you want to do for your future occupation!" He shouted
"I don't know, sir!" She called out
He laughed walking back, "then what do you imagine yourself as? Hm?" He queried now staring at her curious about the girl
At this hermione thought for a moment, she'd never been asked such a question before "I want to be great" she settled on "as great as I can be, to reach my full potential, whatever that is in it doesnt matter to me"
Mr olivander nodded at this seriously "some would call it a childs dream but...your determination, your ambition even, I sense it in you clear as day. It seems you'd make a wonderful slytherin." He paused as if suddenly recalling a wand "How about.." he went back into his dense forest of wands, clatter and loud sounds heard as he scrambled to find the one he desired. And when he came back, he looked even scruffier than before. "This. Try it."
Hermione picked it up and felt a rush right through her even before she had used it. A beautiful golden hue emitted from the wand, and even her, as if they were tethered together. As if they were tethered together. It had chosen her.
"A very powerful wand" he says "it's one of my own creations, an experiment to make the most potent of wands. This was a part of the few that managed to make it out if thst trail stage. Whats unique is that it's made from 2 Woods in fact. It's a Vine and Yew hybrid. with a dragon heartstrings core, 13 inches" he paused for a second "this tells me all I need to know about your personality Miss Granger."
"However so?"
"A Vine wand is typically are for individuals who see a higher purpose. Those who are often underestimated. Those who have a vision beyond what the average person could see.
Yew on the otherhand is one that revolves around, life, death, rebirth. A powerful wood that refuses to choose a mediocre individual, often choosing powerful and intense ones. Often those traits align with more controversial individuals amongst wizard society.
You are destined to do great things Miss Granger, I know that much for sure. But what you must remember is that it is your actions that shape the futures of those around you. And with that I wish you the very best of luck." He said with a smile
Her lip twitched ever quickly, revealing a small smile eyes gleaming with the light in the store before her lip fixing back to its original position. But she was surprised to see Olivanders eyebrows pull inwards into a frown, his gaze fixed upon her watching her very intensely.
"Hm. Curiouser and curiouser said Alice" He spoke softly
"Pardon?"
"I remember every wand i have ever sold Miss Granger. I remember the faces of those i sold them to. In your face just now, i saw a boy whos wand I sold 27 years ago."
"A rather specific number"
"And a very special boy miss granger. Had a yew wand like yourself. He is a dangerous man now, but the boy? The boy, I knew would turn out to do great things." His gaze eventually ceased and he lifted his glasses up rubbing his eyes
"I'm an old man now Miss Granger, I see things that are not there." He chuckled heartily "I believe I shall bid you adieu. Goodbye and goodluck"
McGonagall was waiting outside for her to come out and once she did she was brought back to the orphanage much to her dismay. She said her goodbyes and hermione spent the rest of her time reading the multitude of books in her own personal heaven. Somewhat excited to start the coming year.