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“Abbot, Hannah!”“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the Hat.The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Hermione saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.“Bones, Susan!”“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat again, and Susan scuffled off to sit next to Hannah.“Boot, Terry!”“RAVENCLAW!”The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.“Brocklehurst, Mandy!”“RAVENCLAW!”The Ravenclaw table once again erupted into cheers as they welcomed the 2nd newest member of their nest this year.“Brown, Lavender!”“GRYFFINDOR!”Hermione quickly whipped her head to the far left at the thundering cheer from the Gryffindor table. Two twin redheads she figured must be Ronald Weasley’s brothers were even whistling at an earsplitting pitch.“Bulstrode, Millicent!”“SLYTHERIN!”There were no cheers, but Millicent walked over to the table furthest to the right, which was clapping quietly."Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"“HUFFLEPUFF!” "Finnigan, Seamus!”Here, the hat paused for a little short of a minute, and just when Hermione began to wonder if something had gone wrong, the hat shouted “GRYFFINDOR!”“Granger, Hermione!”Steeling herself, Hermione walked up to the stool by Professor McGonagall and gingerly put the Hat onto her head. Oh, how curious. A most brilliant mind! Why, that mind of yours might be the most brilliant I’ve had the pleasure of analyzing in almost 30 years! The voice of the sorting hat sounded odd to Hermione, as though she couldn’t quite hear where it was coming from. Her face lit up as she realized that the hat must be speaking directly into her head. She was quite pleased to learn that the Sorting Hat seemed to think her intelligence was one that came only once a generation, yet she was quite confused all the same. Do you talk to all of the children who put you on their head? At this, the Hat gave out a hearty laugh, that indeed only she could hear. Not at all! For most, all it takes is a mere glance and I can tell just where to sort each student. With you though, Ms. Granger, I am quite puzzled. My natural inclination is to put you in Ravenclaw, where those of wit and learning belong. Yet despite how committed you would be to your studies, I sense it would do you well to place you outside of the House of academia. At this, Hermione’s heart sank a little. She was so certain that she was going to go to Ravenclaw, and she resigned herself to her fate of being a Hufflepuff, the House the Hat sent people with no remarkable qualities to speak of. Au contraire , said the hat, startling Hermione, Hufflepuff is not simply a place to send those who wouldn’t fit in the other three Houses. Indeed, there have been many a student who would have fared well in a different House, yet with their senses of justice and acceptance, were sorted into Hufflepuff. You yourself would fare well in the House, yes, yet with how stubborn you are, and the amount of courage you have, I can’t possibly send you there. At this, Hermione sat up a little straighter. Gryffindor was a lovely house, and though she personally hadn’t anticipated being sorted into the lion’s den, she certainly wasn’t about to complain. She waited one second, then two, yet the deafening shout she expected from the Hat didn’t come. Instead, it spoke once more. Although you would surely do well in House Gryffindor, I can’t help but feel as though I would be doing you a disservice. I can’t quite tell why, but something about sorting you into Gryffindor feels wrong, child. Do you know why that might be? Upon hearing this question, Hermione froze. She didn’t understand. Once the Hat realized that she wouldn’t be answering its question, it continued on as though nothing had happened. Well, no matter , said the hat quite cheerfully. It is clear to me now, that although in a different universe you would have been quite suited for one of the other Houses, Slytherin is the place for you, little snake. But I’m a Muggleborn! Hermione protested, finally bringing herself to say what she couldn’t a couple minutes before. Muggleborns never go to Slytherin. Salazar himself told you to make sure of it! Salazar! Ah, that really takes me back. It is true that he left me with instructions not to let those born of Muggles into his House, yet I can’t help but feel as though he would make an exception for one with the intelligence, courage, resolution, and ambition that you have. I saw it all you know? Just what you intend to do in this Magical world that you’ve found. Don’t worry though! I am sworn to keep the secrets of all students who set me on their head. Point 3 subsection 14 of the Sorting Code! I’m bound to the school you see, and the Founders thought complications would arise if I had the ability to report on what I see in the minds of Hogwarts students.Hermione was about to protest once more, yet the Hat had clearly decided this conversation was over. I know that I am making the right choice here, Ms. Granger. I am certain that after all the friends and enemies you encounter, the highs and lows you experience, and the trials and tribulations you endure, you will realize that the second moment your life changed for the better was when you were sorted into “SLYTHERIN!”The final word came not from inside Hermione’s mind, yet from the Sorting Hat’s stitched mouth, for all of Hogwarts to hear.Minerva McGonagall was feeling quite troubled at the moment. It was the evening of September 1st, 1991, and she found herself facing a rare conundrum: a Hatstall. Indeed, it had been 20 years since the Hat had last stalled with Peter Petigrew. From what she remembered of Hermione Granger, she was a highly intelligent girl, and she was certain that she would be sorted into Ravenclaw as soon as the Hat touched her head. Instead, however, a minute went by. Then a second, a third, a fourth and a fifth. The only other member of the staff currently present was Severus Snape, no doubt here to witness the sorting of his godson, and he seemed to regard the Hatstall with nothing more than mild annoyance at the delayal of Mr. Malfoy’s sorting.At the six minute mark, Minerva thought about going to retrieve the Headmaster, when finally the Hat released a shout of “SLYTHERIN!”At this, the Head of House Gryffindor noticed her colleague focus on Ms. Granger, the slightest expression of curiosity on his face only noticeable to her due to her decade of experience working with the potioneer. The Slytherins, aware that the name Granger was one unbeknownst to them, stayed silent. It was only after they witnessed Professor Snape begin to clap with the faintest of smirks on his face, that they followed his lead and welcomed their newest snake.The troubles with sorting continued once again, as the Hat nearly stalled with the young Mr. Longbottom, and actually did stall with Harry Potter, before sorting both boys into her House.McGonagall had wanted to have another word with Ms. Granger, before term properly started, yet she was now in the care of Severus. Besides, she thought, Merlin knows I’m going to have my hands full dealing with Mr. Potter. I’ll just have to hope Severus keeps his students in check.
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September 19th, 1990 It was around 6 pm when the Granger family heard knocking at their door. Mr. Granger, quite disgruntled to have his dinner interrupted after a long day at the practice, begrudgingly got up to answer. Mr. Granger didn’t have expectations of the person he would meet on the other side of his front door, yet when he opened it and found them broken anyways.“Hello, Mr. Granger.”The woman who greeted him was very old, and dressed quite peculiarly. She wore a dark blue robe, as well as black pointy hat. Additionally, in her hand she held a dark wand. He half expected he would be able to look around and spot the broom she arrived on.“Hello, who do I have the pleasure of speaking with this evening?”“Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor, Head of House Gryffindor, and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Granger. Might I come inside? I have important news to deliver to you regarding your young Hermione.”Mr. Granger was about to refuse, thinking this strange lady seemed to know too much about him and his family, and he had no reason to let her speak to his daughter. In fact, he would have refused, had he not seen her wave her hand and the mosquito that was buzzing near her ear fell, dead. Upon seeing this, Mr. Granger figured it couldn’t hurt to see what the strange woman claiming to be a witch had to say.Hermione Jean Granger was an absolutely brilliant girl. She was born with the gift of high intelligence, yet she never neglected her studies, often performing work that was far above her grade level. Indeed, she was in her room upstairs studying some form of advanced science or math at this very moment, instead of eating her dinner. Daniel and Jean Granger would both describe their daughter as a wonderful child, one that most parents could only dream of having. Hermione wasn’t perfect however, no human is.To be quite frank, the Grangers thought their daughter to be depressed. The spark that she once had at the prospect of going to school had now disappeared, and her eyes were dull. Eventually, the bullying started. Then, it stopped. In her younger years the Granger’s daughter used to come home crying almost daily due to the abuse she faced at school. Her teachers were never of any help, claiming that they couldn’t punish students for offenses they hadn’t personally witnessed. After a few days of Hermione coming home without the bruises she usually had when she walked through the door. When Jean inquired about how her daughter's week at school had gone so far, she was shocked to learn that her daughter’s bullies had decided to stop. Hermione had asked them to stop, and so they did.“On Tuesday, Mary and Susan were teasing me at recess again, and they were making it quite hard to focus on my book. Eventually I got so fed up that I looked them right in their eyes and yelled at them to stop. They looked quite shaken, but in the end they just said ‘Okay Hermione’, and walked off.” Hermione recounted.“I had to remind them both today and yesterday, but they seem to listen if I just ask them to stop.”Ms. Granger had wanted to ask more questions, but already Hermione seemed tired and thus she allowed her daughter to go up to her room. Jean knew that Hermione had never truly considered the bullies a bother, and so she didn’t force her daughter to elaborate. Jean was still puzzling over the strange information that her daughter had given her when she noticed the robed woman that her husband had welcomed into their home, and moved to the dining room to greet their new company.Hermione was very disgruntled when her mother came to drag her out of her room. She hadn’t even been told who this lady was that she absolutely had to meet, and she felt as though she would much rather be doing anything else at the moment.That all changed the moment she laid eyes upon the woman her parents had welcomed into their home. Not a word had been exchanged, yet there was something about her that made Hermione feel as though she was worth listening to. Most people, adults and her parents included, simply bored Hermione. It was as though she was the only real person in a world full of mere humans. Other people existed, sure, but they didn’t seem real to her. There was no individuality to them in her mind. There was Hermione, and then there was a sea of gray, no differences at all in any other humans to distinguish themselves. No matter how much she tried to connect with other people, she just couldn’t. Sure, her parents were lovely people, and they were likely just as intelligent as her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of a disconnect between herself and them. It was as though they were born into two separate worlds.Although others might look at her arrogant attitude and assume that she let her intelligence get to her head, it wasn’t the case. To be truthful, Hermione didn’t quite know why she felt so isolated from others. In her mind, she was different somehow. She often felt special, as though she was the world’s chosen. Things always seemed to just conveniently go her way. When she wanted her bullies to stop hurting her, they did. When the weather was a bit too cold for her liking, she found she suddenly felt warmer. It wasn’t just luck though, and Hermione knew it. It was as though she had control over her surroundings in a way that others didn’t. Hermione could tell though, at a glance, that the oddly dressed woman currently dining with them was in complete control of her environment.“Hello, Hermione,” the older woman in front of her began. “I am Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor, Head of House Gryffindor, and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I’ve already explained the situation to your parents. You, Ms. Granger, are a witch.”Hermione’s initial reaction was to completely dismiss and rebuke the idea of “Witchcraft and Wizardry”, yet she stayed silent. She didn’t know what exactly McGonagall was talking about and quite frankly she thought the woman might be crazy, but she did know that she wasn’t mistaken in her earlier deduction of the woman as someone who was in complete control. More importantly however, Hermione knew that a crazy person in complete control of their environment was dangerous . Armed with this knowledge, Hermione chose her words carefully as she proceeded through the conversation.“You said you are a witch? One who can transfigure things? I find that quite hard to believe, Ms. McGonagall. And what is a Gryffindor?” Hermione fired off her questions in a rapid tone, one that conveyed the state of disbelief she was in, while still maintaining respect.“Not only am I a witch, but you are one too, Ms. Granger. One who can also learn how to transfigure things, among many other magical abilities. Gryffindor is one of the four Houses of Hogwarts that each student is Magically sorted into on their first day of school. Each House embodies a particular set of character traits. I understand that you have doubts about the existence of a Magical World, all Muggles do. I believe this should be proof enough however."With these words, Hermione witnessed something incredible. Ms. McGonagall had transformed herself into a cat. By her parent’s lack of reaction, they had already known McGonagall capable of this feat, yet Hermione was absolutely shocked. Not only did this mean that McGonagall wasn’t crazy, she realized, but it also meant that she was much more dangerous than she previously thought.“Wow” Hermione breathed. “Can I learn to become a cat too if I attend Hogwarts?”“If you study very hard, you just might be able to. Though I must tell you, becoming an animagus, someone who can shift into an animal, is a very long and arduous process that most adult witches and wizards wouldn’t even attempt.”“Is it dangerous?”“It can be, if done under poor conditions. At Hogwarts though I would be able to provide a stable learning environment should you prove to be of sufficient skill once you come of age to try.”“I’m sorry, Ms. McGonagall,” Hermione began sadly, “but I’m not a witch.”At this, McGonagall smiled, “Of course you are dear, and a very powerful one at that. Your parents have told me that you’ve unknowingly used magic to warm yourself, defend yourself against bullies, and much more. Think back to any times where you found yourself in a situation that you couldn’t explain, except by magic. Young children’s magic often looks out for them on their own.”Hermione was about to object, when she realized that the elder woman was right. She just never understood why things in this world always went as she willed it. Now though, she understood. The world was convenient to her because she willed it. She had been unconsciously using her magic for her benefit. This is it , she realized. The reason I always felt different from others is because I am different. I’m magical. Suddenly, Hermione forgot about any misgivings she had about McGonagall. She realized that she was in familiar company, and that the woman in front of her truly wanted nothing other than to help Hermione get the best education she possibly could.McGonagall proceeded to explain to the Grangers just what would be required in order for Hermione to attend Hogwarts. They’d have to go to this Magical shopping center known as Diagon Alley, McGonagall explained, where they’d purchase Hermione’s school robes, course textbooks, and among other things, her very own wand.“Students typically begin their Hogwarts education at the age of 11, and are required to take the train to Hogwarts on the 1st of September each year.”“We need to go to Diagon Alley right now then Ms. McGonagall! I have so much catching up to do! I’m 19 days late already!”“No need to worry Ms. Granger,” McGonagall said with a slight smile, “All students are made aware of their eligibility to Hogwarts on their 11th birthday. You will start your term a year from now. You have plenty of time to familiarize yourself with the Magical world and get your supplies.”“With that being said I’d like to formally extend to you an invitation to join the Magical World.”In awe, Hermione accepted the envelope and began to read.HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRYHeadmaster: Albus Dumbledore(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chief Warlock,Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)Dear Ms. Granger,We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipmentTerm begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.Yours Sincerely,Minerva McGonagallDeputy Headmistress.HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY UNIFORM First-year students will require: 1. Three sets of plain work robes (black) 2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear 3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar) 4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings) Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags COURSE BOOKS All students should have a copy of each of the following: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)
by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic
by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory
by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration
by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi
by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions
by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection
by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT 1 wand 1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) 1 set glass or crystal phials 1 telescope 1 set brass scalesStudents may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARSARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKYours Sincerely,Lucinda Thomsonicle-PocusChief Attendant of Witchcraft ProvisionsWordlessly, Hermione passed the letter to her parents for them to read over, and she began to think. In her mind, she envisioned the castle with Magical floating staircases that McGonagall had described to her parents, the secret knock required to access Diagon Alley, and she tried to picture herself turning into a cat as the lady before her had. Hermione decided, right then and there, that her true home was in Hogwarts, surrounded by more people of her own kind.“Now, Ms. Granger,” McGonagall began, shaking Hermione from her muse, “Typically a student’s acceptance letter to Hogwarts is delivered to them via owl, however in the case of Muggleborns a Hogwarts representative is sent to personally ensure that the letter is not only received, but is taken seriously by often disbelieving recipients. Additionally, seeing as neither of your parents are Magical, in one month's time I shall accompany both them and you to Diagon Alley to shop for your school supplies.”With a childish grin that her parents hadn’t seen in years, Hermione fantasized to herself about the world of Magic she had just been introduced to while her parents went over the final details with Ms. McGonagall, and eventually saw her out.
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October 20th, 1990
“As you can see Ms Granger, to access the Alley all you have to do is tap this brick - three up and two across from the rubbish bin - thrice with your wand.”
The Granger family watched in wonder as they saw the wall before them transform into an archway that revealed a bustling street ahead. As they progressed through the Alley, the reality of her new life began to set in for Hermione. She passed a shop selling a large variety of cauldrons, an owl shop, a store that seemed to sell real flying broomsticks, and much more.
“What was that sign about Sickles and Dragon Liver Ms. McGonagall?”
“Professor McGonagall, dear. Dragon liver is an ingredient commonly used in potions, and Sickles are a division of Wizarding currency. There are the Knuts, Sickles and Galleons you see…”
Whilst walking, the professor explained to Hermione how Wizarding currency worked, and to her parents that dragons were quit e real, although they weren’t a large threat in Great Britain. Both Hermione and her parents had a myriad of questions to ask, and McGonagall obliged to answer them, just explaining to Hermione that brooms were used both for travel and sport when they had arrived at their first destination of the day.
“We have arrived at our first stop of the day. Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Established in 1474 by Gringott the Goblin.”
To their credit, the Granger family took the news that the bank was Goblin-run very well. Mr. and Mrs. Granger treated the goblin tellers with respect when they exchanged their pounds for Galleons, and when Hermione had to get her palm sliced by the Goblin known as Redgar in order to begin her family’s vault, she proceeded as though she had been expecting it all along.
“The blood is required for security purposes,” McGonagall explained to Hermione’s parents, who had paled considerably at the large slice upon their daughter’s palm.
“Yes,” interjected Redgar, “the key to the Granger Vault would be one only capable of being held by those through which the blood of House Granger flows. As the Founder of House Granger, Hermione Granger’s blood would be the basis of the cursework.”
After the necessary paperwork was completed, and the gold collected, Hermione excitedly led her parents and soon to be professor out of the bank, despite not at all knowing the directions to where she wanted to go.
“We know you’re excited to purchase your wand Hermione, but please slow down. You don’t even know where Mr. Oliver's shop is!” said her father.
“Ollivanders, dad,” she mindlessly corrected him as she fell into pace behind her parents and Professor McGonagall. Hermione’s parents were happy and excited for her despite their wariness of Magic, she figured. At the same time though, she intrinsically knew that her parents would never understand her life from this point on. They couldn’t possibly understand the feeling of pure tantalization she felt in her every waking moment during the month leading up to their outing today. Indeed, she felt it still now, while she was walking towards the aforementioned wand shop. Soon, she would receive the instrument she would forever use to command the Magic that until now had been both accidental and uncontrollable in nature.
It's fantastical to them, she realized as she walked the streets of Diagon Alley. These flying broomsticks and articles of enchanted clothing are from a world wholly different from the one that we’re familiar with.
Unlike Mr. and Ms. Granger however, the items she saw advertised and displayed on the streets could have a direct impact on her life. She could wear the enchanted robes sold at Twilfitt and Tattings, she could fly the broomsticks on display at Quality Quidditch Supplies, and whether or not her cauldron was self stirring could have a real effect on the outcome of her potions (or so she assumed).
And it was at the thought of potion making that it finally occurred to Hermione. Not only was the bright and wondrous alley that they were walking through something akin to a fantasy novel to her parents, but it was real for her .
I’m a witch! Hermione realized I’m a witch! I can learn to brew potions! I can fly on a broomstick! I can even transform myself into a cat! I can cast spells! I can do anything I can dream of! “Here, try this one,” Mr. Ollivander said whilst handing Hermione her 24th wand of the hour. “Holly, unicorn hair, 11 ¾ inches, flexible.”
This wand, like most of the others had been, was once again snatched from her hand before she could so much as give it a flick. A quick note on his parchment and the legendary wandmaker supplied her with yet another wand. “Cherry, dragon heartstring, 10 inches, supple.”
Upon receiving this wand, for the first time Ollivander didn’t snatch the wand instantly. “Give it a wave,” he urged. Perking up, Hermione waved the wand about. To her great disappointment however, all that occurred was a weak spark and Ollivander took the wand from her hand once more. Hermione tuned the eccentric out as he began muttering to himself once more. All of the high morale she had earlier had sunken, and she began to wonder if she and Professor McGonagall were wrong, and she wasn’t a witch at all. It was with such gloomy thoughts that Hermione absentmindedly took the next wand that was offered to her, not even bothering to pay attention to Ollivanders ramblings, when she felt it.
This is the one, thought Hermione. She instinctively knew it. With supreme confidence she waved her wand, and the resounding crack that echoed throughout the room with the accompanying golden sparks that came out of the white tip of the wand brought Hermione to absolute ecstasy.
“Well, Ms. Granger, it appears a most powerful wand has chosen you. Yew, phoenix feather, 10 inches, unyielding. Yes, most powerful indeed. Well! That will be 7 Galleons, if you please.” ‘A most powerful wand’ he says, Hermione mentally repeated to herself. ‘Most powerful indeed.’ We weren’t wrong after all! Soon I’ll go to Hogwarts and learn to be a proper witch!
The subsequent shopping after their stop at Ollivanders had quite bored Hermione. Purchasing cauldrons and telescopes didn’t give her quite the same joy she had when she found her wand, which she supposed made sense. Still, she thought, I wish Madam Malkin would hurry up with these measurements. I just want to go home and begin my Magical studies.
Much to her irritation, Mr. and Ms. Granger had opted to buy everything else that would be needed for her education at Hogwarts before heading over to the shop that sold her coursebooks. I wouldn’t get too many extracurricular books, really. Of course I’d be careful to save money for the necessities, she mentally huffed.
“All right then!” Madam Malkin chimed. “Your robes and cloak will be ready in an hour's time.”
Hermione’s parents gave her a smile as they left Madam Malkin’s and headed towards the book shop. She could hardly contain her excitement as her professor led her through the doors of Flourish and Blotts. Everywhere she looked, all around her, were books! Now, Flourish and Blotts wasn’t a large shop at all, but the small volume of books relative to what she could find in even her school library didn’t matter to Hermione. She was completely enamored with the amount of Magical knowledge contained within these tomes.
“Now then,” began Professor McGonagall, "I have some business to attend to outside of the Alley. In one hour I shall return to bring you back to Muggle London.”
After her professor’s departure, Hermione’s parents made sure to get all of the books she’d need in Hogwarts, then left her the remaining to browse and purchase texts of her own liking.
Walking through the shelves of the small store, Hermione found many books that piqued her interest. There was The Book of Charms & Spells, which she grabbed, assuming it'd be useful despite the somewhat redundant name (Aren’t charms a type of spell?)
Additionally, Hermione picked up Hogwarts: A History, next to which she found Intermediate Transfiguration which she picked up so she could continue to study the theory beyond that described in A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration, as well as Curses and Counter-curses, which she figured would be useful in the event she ever had to defend herself against any Magical bullies or attackers.
Though she longed to purchase every tome she saw, Hermione knew that she had limited funds and resolved herself to purchase the four books she had and began to make her way towards the register, when suddenly she stopped in her tracks.
A sense of malaise had captured Hermione Granger. She suddenly felt ill, in the unidentifiable sort of way. She didn’t know what it was, but Hermione knew something was off. She gripped her wand (despite not yet knowing a single spell), and took stock of her surroundings, yet the only people in the store were her parents and the shopkeeper.
Warily, she holstered her wand, and that's when she saw it. A plain book, of small size and black leather. She still felt uneasy, but she was drawn to the book. It stood neat amongst the rest on the shelf, yet it still stood out to her in a way. It was very clearly old, the leather cracking and falling off in places. There were golden corner coverings on the book, yet even to Hermione’s untrained eye the tarnishes made clear that the metal wasn’t pure. The book was regular, yet everything about it screamed that it was out of place.
Her curiosity taking over her, Hermione moved to inspect the book further. Upon opening the book, she noted that the yellow pages contained no text throughout. How interesting, she mused, why would they carry a plain, old, and blank book? Despite the rather poor assessment Hermione had given the weathered book, she decided she’d purchase it nonetheless.
As she brought her short stack of books to the counter the bad feeling left Hermione, and she smiled happily as she prepared to make her first Magical purchase. The witch working the till returned her smile, remarking that she was happy to see a young witch taking initiative in her education, praising her for purchasing material beyond that assigned to her. Strangely though, she didn’t even acknowledge the small black book. Indeed, her parents didn’t mention it either, nor did Professor McGonagall upon her return.
After quickly dropping in to Madam Malkin’s in order to pick up her robes and cloak, Professor McGonagall pulled out a copper key. This copper key was in fact the same device that had transported them to the alley in the first place, a portkey Hermione would one day learn. Once the Granger family had arrived back in their home, Hermione quickly thanked her parents and her professor for taking her out to Diagon Alley for the first time, then she raced to her room to begin her Magical studies. The blank book lay on her bed, for hours, completely forgotten until she noticed it as she prepared for sleep.
Thinking of no other use for the book, Hermione decided she’d begin a diary, to document her foray into the Magical world, and so, Hermione wrote.
“Dear Diary,” she began. She paused, stopping to consider whether she should include a piece describing McGonagall and how Hermione discovered the Magical world in the first place. It was during this pause, that the two words Hermione had inked onto the page had disappeared, seemingly sunken into the book itself. Words couldn’t describe the blend of shock and fear Hermione felt when the ink bubbled back up onto the top of the page, and settled into the form of a singular word.
“Yes?”