Chapter 1
It's not everyday that you wake up to a new life. But I guess whatever entity controls the world had a seizure and displaced me somewhere along the way.
Why do I say this? Well I'm pretty sure I was in the body of Hermione Granger on the way to Hogwarts.
Let's rewind, it all started a couple months ago when I woke up to some random British lady telling me breakfast was ready.
"Hermione, time to get up. I let you sleep in long enough. Hurry along if you want to eat before the food gets cold."
My stomach dropped. I felt bone deep terror as my heart started pounding in my chest. Where was I? It sure as hell wasn't any place I knew! And the last thing I could remember... well lets just say me + car windshield = disfigured and/or dead. While this was obviously neither.
I heard footsteps come closer and fumbled to answer,"I'll-," I squeaked out while internally panicking "-be right down."
What the hell was that?! Cuz I'll tell you right now whatever voice I just used was not my own!
Thankfully I heard the footsteps retreat and sighed in relief. As the panic died down I quickly took stock of my surroundings. The room seemed to be that of a young girl, with pink sheets and a few remnants of childhood scattered about. Upon closer inspection I found what I direly needed. A mirror. What I saw made me gasp.
There was a girl there. She was cute, probably in middle school. With pale skin and rich chocolate hair full of frizzy curls that puffed out like a lion's mane. Her brown eyes, framed by curly lashes, were wide with shock. Her lips parted to reveal buck teeth. But what really got me was the synchronized movements. Because as I raised my hand, she did the same thing. Like some sick joke, every move I made was mirrored perfectly.
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Admittedly, it took longer than it should have for me to realize what had happened. That I was the little girl in the mirror. But who in their right mind would accept something like that immediately? Or without an existential crisis?
You can imagine how I stumbled about my day, disoriented, terrified, and pulling a british accent out of my ass. I don't know if it was fate or a miracle but Hermione's mother seemed to be in a rush and brushed off my strangeness as a result of something banal like lack of sleep or the beginnings of a cold. Either way it gave me the space I needed.
At this point I had already accepted that I had died. I mean, how many people do you know that got hit by a car and woke up in the body of a pale Victorian child??? The thing I couldn't come to terms with was the reincarnation. It was obvious this wasn't the after life or even a dream. No, I was fully awake and had that sharp awareness dreams lacked. Regardless, my body was bursting with life and a strange energy I'd never felt before. This was definitely a second life of some sort. Reincarnation? Transmigration? An alternate reality? Whatever you wanted to call it, my first life had ended. The question was why had I "awoken" in this new life as a preteen? Wasn't the cycle supposed to be death-to-baby? Maybe this was normal, but it's not like there was anyone I could ask.
Thankfully, the strange behavior I exhibited earlier led Hermione's mom to call me out of school before leaving for work. It was then that my survival instincts kicked in and I started snooping hardcore to see where the hell I was and who the hell were these people, myself included.
What followed was some super cool totally realistic training montage-esque day where I discovered the truth about my new reality.
"The fuck?!"
In my hands was a mildly worn blue and pink paper, a birth certificate if you will. For one Hermione Jean Granger. Shit just got a whole lot weirder. Because either this bodys' parents were weirdos, overtly obsessed with Harry Potter. And I'm talking, changing their own names and then naming their kid after a character, obsessed. Or somehow, some way this was all legit. I wasn't currently in a coma in some hospital imagining all of this. I really was living out my second life like some cheesy manhwa protagonist and had taken the place of Hermione Granger in the Harry Potter series. That's not even taking into account the date that was listed for her birthday, specifically the year, 'September 19th 1979.'
"Holy shit," I breathed out. "I'm in the 90's?"
I scrambled to find a calendar or even some kind of modern technology. I was desperate but slowly things I'd willfully ignored came to mind. There was no computer in this house, even the TV was some huge monster similar to one I remembered my grandparents owning during my childhood.
Suddenly a shrill tone rang out. A phone was ringing. I chased the sound to find the most damning fact of all. A landline. As the phone continued to ring a sense of false calm came over me. I had accepted it. I really was in the body of Hermione Granger. It really was the 90's and that night I really had died, cold and alone.
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"Watch out, know it all! Uhg you'd think she'd finally get a clue." Some two bit extra shrieked at me.
I was kinda shocked, I mean did people even talk like that in real life? I'd already been here for some time but in no way was I used to this 'new life' let alone my annoying classmates.
"Grow up. Enough with these lame ass grade school taunts." I sighed, suddenly pissed.
Back in my old life I probably never would have talked to anyone like this, let a lone at school. But dying really does give you a certain type of reckless abandon. Like a newfound perspective, I'd shrug and think, 'really what's the worst that could happen?'
"I'm not joking, If any of you pull this shit again I'll put you on your ass." The crowd was shocked into silence and I took the chance to slink away before one of them got the bright idea to call a teacher. But even if they did, I didn't doubt my ability to get away with anything. I was a kid again and this time I knew how to work my charm. No adult would think poorly of me, thanks to Hermione's past reputation combined with my talent for sweet talking.
It was always implied Hermione got bullied before Hogwarts, I mean we even see her experience something similar with Ron. But really this was a bit much. After the first time it happened and I broke out laughing, there was no chance I could keep up the guise that I was still the same old Hermione even if I wanted to.
For a kid I imagine stuff like that could be really hurtful and cause some type of 'unwanted childhood trauma,' but I had once been an adult even if this body didn't reflect that. Petty insults from middle schoolers, in a British accent at that, sounded like satire more than anything. The whole scenario was so outlandish I couldn't even summon up the energy to really sell my act as a UK kid in the 90's, not that it was especially convincing. You can only forget to use the accent so many times before people get weirded out. My only saving grace was that I was annihilating these tests and soaking up books like a sponge just like the real Hermione.
As I walked away, I contemplated life. Lots of "woe is me" type shit. But really, I knew what I wanted to do. Just like Hermione, back in my OG life I was something of a nerdy kid myself. You know the type, teachers' pet, gets good grades, goody-two-shoes, whatever. Bottom line, I liked succeeding. Even after growing out of my "perfect little angel, will cry if I fail" stage I still liked learning. In my last life I think I focused too much on stuff that didn't really end up mattering in the end. But what I truly wanted was an adventure. To be the main character! Someone who left an impact long after they were dead and gone. I was ready to absorb whatever I could get my hands on.
Which led me to my current situation. Learning as much about the Wizarding World as I could before I was left to fend for myself in a school filled with kids who all grew up living and breathing magic. It might have been a bit petty but my ego couldn't handle it if a middle schooler surpassed me when it came to academics of any kind. Not that I was without my own advantages, I mean if things played out the same I already knew all the cards, right?