Before The Beginning
Hogwarts: First Year
The whispers started the instant she landed at Platform 9 ¾ , Hermione could feel the many pairs of eyes that watched her as if they were physically palpable. At first she tried to deny it, tried to reason with herself that it could be something different…
Maybe they don’t see muggle clothes very often and like my sense of fashion?
No, it can’t be that. She’s been accused of a lot in her eleven years- but fashion forward was never something people pictured when they thought of her.
Maybe I’m the first muggle they’ve ever seen up close before?
The idea was instantly squashed when she saw another family aside from her own that were very clearly muggles- and no one was staring at them.
Maybe… they want to be my friend?
No, these weren’t friendly looks she was getting. She knew these kinds of faces all too well.
And that’s what scared her.
Maybe they know what happened?
Maybe they heard about the fire?
But how…
Hermione’s stomach was in knots as she came to a stop and looked back at her parents.
They could clearly feel the same tension she felt- and saw on their faces a sense of doubt in their eyes on if this place was right for her. But their unease was pushed aside, for instead it was replaced with an emotion they would never vocalize to her- relief. It would no longer be on them to hide what she was, they would never tell her the truth- that they were secretly pleased that she was someone else’s problem now.
Hermione had no doubt that her parents loved her, but she knew that carrying her secrets was burdensome and a heavy weight would be lifted off their shoulders when she boarded the train to this faraway place.
No longer would they need to lie about the strange occurrences that constantly seemed to happen at 8 Heathgate, Hampstead Garden.
No longer would they need to lie to their colleagues about one of her parents needing to always be with her at home, so no other attention seeking fires occurred around her.
Instead now they could have their lives back- talk about their daughter who got accepted to a faraway boarding school.
Just… live as any other normal person deserves to do.
Hermione almost felt a sense of pride that she was relieving this strain from her parents.
It was sad to be leaving them, but it was what must be done- and she vowed to herself, she would leave and learn control so that she might never be a burden again.
“I guess this is it…” young Hermione mused. Trying her best to breathe through her parents' inevitable farewell in combination with the whispers and stares she could feel all around her.
“You’ll write to us, won’t you, my love?” Her father said through unshed tears.
Hermione couldn’t respond, but nodded just the same.
It was her mother who hugged her first, squeezing her tightly, as if this might be the very last time, “I love you, Hermione. I hope you’ll be happy here. I can’t wait to hear about all of your adventures. I want this to be good for you, little duck.”
Letting go of her mother was hard, and holding back tears was even harder. But Hermione refused to be the freak show everyone already thought she was, and then to cry like a little girl on top of that. She needed to be strong.
With a final goodbye, Hermione boarded the train- all of her luggage was already being loaded onto the train, which left her with nothing but her small book bag and a stiff upper lip.
Hermione traveled from compartment to compartment, looking for a place to sit. But at each door, she saw the children look at her, oddly, or whisper behind their hand. This was not an uncommon occurrence, just one she had been hoping to avoid.
Finally, she found an empty compartment and squeezed her eyes shut, the burn of tears, threatening to spill- the only mercy being that she could be alone. For it seemed that there was no one here that didn’t know who she was.
Until suddenly a boy appeared at the doorway, wearing Muggle clothes- nicer than her own parents could afford, but Muggle clothes all the same just like her, the boy cleared his throat before asking her a question, “Excuse me, do you mind? Everywhere else is full…”
“Not at all!” Hermione nodded her head and gestured for him to come in. He was a pale boy with dark brown hair and circular glasses- but best of all, he didn’t seem to have heard anything about her. Or he didn’t care.
She wasn’t sure which, either way she was happy for a potential friend.
He smiled gratefully and sat on the bench opposite her, before introducing himself, “I’m Harry, by the way. Harry Potter.”
She fought to school her reaction- Hermione had read Hogwarts: A History and anything else she could get her hands on. She knew the name Harry Potter.
But figured he- much like herself- had probably been subjected to enough ‘oohing and ahing’ for the day, and was no doubt looking for some simple normalcy.
So she tried her best to do so, “I’m Hermione. Hermione Granger.”
“Good to meet you! You a first year?” Harry asked.
She thought the answer to be quite obvious, but she’d never really had any friends so she figured it was best to just be nice, “Yes, I am. You as well, I’m assuming?”
The boy let out a relieved breath, “Is it that easy to tell? I’m so nervous I could… well I’m so nervous I don’t even remember what I could be doing!”
Hermione couldn’t help but laugh, he was funny. And she liked that, all she could do was hope he’d continue to be her friend after he would no doubt hear the rumors about her.
But she hoped he would see the similarities in both their situations- that he had a legacy as the son of the woman who killed Voldemort, an expectation for greatness he no doubt was feeling the moment he stepped aboard- and she a girl who seemed to already be known for something she had absolutely no control over.
They could bond over this, she hoped…
But alas Hermione was not experienced in the art of friend making or conversation, so eventually the chat died down- and she pretended to nap against the window to avoid the awkward silence. At first Harry didn’t seem to mind, and was seemingly not disturbed by the silence.
Until another boy entered the compartment, where she tried her best to peek at him through her almost closed eyes. Seeing a little boy with red hair and a dirty face, who immediately rushed over to her companion. Hermione snapped her eyes back shut when she noticed the red hair boy was looking at her suspiciously and then glancing back at Harry.
“Hey, Ron! Do you wanna sit with us, I could make room for yo-“ Harry whispered, so as not to wake her.
This boy, Ron, immediately interrupted Harry, “What are you doing in here?”
Harry was confused, “There weren’t very many open compartments. Why?”
“No! No, I mean, what are you doing in here, with her?” he whispered sharply under his breath.
Harry was immediately confused, and Hermione’s heart sank. All she could do was hope that Harry wouldn’t let Ron influence him.
“Why shouldn’t I be in here with her?” Harry asked.
The newest boy scoffed, “C’mon, let’s just go…”
Harry persisted, “Just tell me!”
Ron’s voice went even lower, “Harry, she’s a freak…”
“Because she’s a muggleborn?” He scoffed angrily, “My mother is a muggleborn, you know. I don’t believe in any of that blood supremacist crap- so if that’s why, then you can just leav-“
Hermione’s heart burst happily, her belief in Harry was warranted- he was an actual good person.
But Ron wasn’t done, “No! Of course not! That’s not it- I mean… it’s something else…”
“Why then? I won’t take your word on it for nothing!” Harry whisper-yelled to the other boy beside him.
It seemed to be a few moments before Ron broke down and blurted, the apparent secret out.
A secret she didn’t even understand.
“Look, she’s an Elemental! A muggleborn Elemental, too! Which is pretty much impossible, I thought…” At Ron’s declaration there was only stunned silence- from both Harry and herself.
An Elemental?
What was that?
And how did all these people know about that before her?
If her condition is that obvious, why didn’t Professor McGonagall tell her about it the day she got her letter?
Harry was stunned, “What… An Elemental? I’ve never met one before! And she seemed so normal, too.”
There was another amused scoff, “She is totally a murderous weirdo! I heard she almost burned her whole family alive…”
It was the first time Hermione was hearing what the rumors were saying, and it was worse than she thought.
It wasn’t true. How could anyone think this was true? She walked onto the platform with her parents!
Who were clearly NOT burned alive!
But apparently, it was easily believed as evidenced by Harry Potter himself, “No! Really? Her? She doesn’t look the type…”
“I guess crazy people come in all packages. I heard my mom talking, she doesn’t know how Dumbledore could let someone so dangerous on campus.” Ron said out loud, clearly past the point of caring if she could hear them talking anymore, “So anyway, not the kind of company I’d be wanting to keep if I were you, Harry Potter.”
With her eyes closed, Hermione heard things shuffling around- and knew he was collecting his things, “Absolutely, let’s get out of here! Don’t want anyone to know I was sitting with her for so long.”
She didn’t open her eyes for at least ten minutes after that, until finally she got up and closed and locked the compartment door.
All that composure she’d been wanting to keep? Out the window completely…
Tears tracked down her face, sobs wracked her chest painfully, and worst of all- angry sparks seemed to be uncontrollably coming out of her hair.
And Hermione hated it all..
She hated that she couldn’t control herself.
She hated that she’d let the tears win in her battle for dominance within herself.
She hated that she had no friends.
She hated the rumors going around about her.
And most of all, she hated being an Elemental Witch… whatever that meant- all Hermione knew was that she despised whatever this affliction she had been cursed with was.
She just wanted to be normal.
Or at least a normal person who happened to also be a witch.
Was that too much to ask?