2. Present
"If you kill a cockroach you are a hero,
if you kill a butterfly you are bad.
Morality has aesthetic standards." - Nietzsche
18th January, 1998
The air in the Great Hall was thick with anticipation. Hermione could feel the weight of the emotions all around her pressing down upon her. The tension was palpable in the atmosphere. From this day onward society would decide in which category they’d push her. Today her friends as well as her enemies would present alongside her as either an Alpha, Beta or Omega. It was generally expected of most students to present as one of the first two, muggleborn were always Betas or Alphas with a weaker presence.
Omegas were rare and always pure-bred which coincided in respect to muggleborns whose cores were generally speaking a lot less connected to their person. Hermione guessed it had to do with not growing up in the Wizarding World from a young age and thus not being as in tune with ones magic.
She stood alongside Luna and Ron, her heart pounding at the prospect of being suspected to the infiltrating gazes of her fellow classmates. It was the first time since she arrived at Hogwarts that the situation felt utterly alien to her which… well, one wouldn’t think so upon looking at her track record of broken rules and quite literally deathly experiences.
„Weasley, Ronald“ Professor McGonagall’s voice sliced through the murmurs in the hall, commanding attention.
Ron tensed beside her, his freckled face pale. He had always hated this day, ever since he was a first-year. Presenting wasn’t something that sat well with him given his family history. He was never the loud, confident Alpha-type. But today, the uncertainty was especially present.
„C'mon Ron, you can do it.“ I whispered, lightly pushing his elbow.
He stepped forward hesitantly, his shoulders hunched as if trying to shrink into himself.
McGonagall raised her wand and the ritual began. The magic swirled around him, a dance of fairy dust, making Ron look at the magic in awe. The silence was loud as the dust settled on his shoulders, giving off a soft green glow. A Beta.
The room seemed to breath out collectively as if waiting for something bigger. It didn’t come. Ron was a Beta.
„That’s…That’s alright,“ Ron mumbled, clearly relieved to not be thrust into the spotlight as an Alpha. But Hermione noticed the flicker of insecurity in his eyes. Being a Beta wasn’t a thing to be ashamed of but he always had his issues with comparing himself to others, especially Harry and his natural leadership.
Next was Luna. The Ravenclaw’s pale, ethereal form floated toward the front of the hall with her usual dreamy calm. Her presence was quiet but intense. The whispers seemed to soften in her wake, as if the very air around her carried a strange sort of gravity.
Luna was always Luna - peculiar, wise and wonderfully unapologetic. She held her chin high as the magic began its work, wrapping around her in a radiant gold.
A shock of surprise rippled through the room as the glow became noticeably stronger than Ron’s, more commanding, but still gentle. Luna Lovegood - an Alpha.
Her eyes sparkled, meeting the faces of the crowd with a knowing gaze. There was no shock in her demeanor. She was Luna after all.
„Strength doesn’t always show in the way people expect,“ Luna said, her voice soft but cutting through the noise. „Just because someone is a certain type doesn’t mean they should be forced into a box.“ She turned to face Hermione, offering a small smile.
Strange, she thought.
„Very well said Miss Lovegood. If you could find the way to your place back, please.
Next is...Granger, Hermione.“
Hermione swallowed hard, her breath shaky, as all eyes turned to her. She had prided herself on never letting her emotions show, but the magic today was too powerful, too encompassing. It wasn’t just about what the magic would reveal - it was what the others would see.
She stepped forward with a quiet determination. The students around her looked almost bored to have a muggleborn standing in the middle. They turned to their own friends and conversations.
McGonagall gave her one last reassuring smile and raised her wand again. The magic swirled around her, and the room went silent as it began to glow. Hermione wasn’t sure if her perception was wrong but the magic seemed to move faster, sparkling with all colours of the rainbow before settling down again. As the dust landed on her shoulders gasps rang out. It wasn’t the usual green light of a Beta or the golden, dominant hue of an Alpha that filled the room - it was pale silver-blue. The glow was soft, delicate - like moonlight but the implications of it were horrifying. At least for her.
„An Omega?“ Someone said, their voice full of surprise. She didn’t know what that meant for her. Didn’t know how they’d react.
The voices shifted between confusion, mockery, pity. Hermione’s heart beat faster. She knew how the world treated Omegas - as a price to win. A piece of meat to devour. Only the Alphas with good intentions saw them as something to be protected. The problem is Hermione didn’t want to need protection. She didn’t want to seem fragile or weak.
But then came Draco Malfoy’s voice, sharp as ever.
„Well, well. Granger, the know-it-all bookworm,“ he sneered from across the hall, his voice dripping with disdain. „And an Omega, to boot. What a pathetic Mudblood you are.“
She flinched at the slur but otherwise didn’t let the sting his words left with her show.
„I’m not pathetic, Malfoy“ Hermione said, her voice trembling slightly, much to her dismay. „And you wouldn’t understand strength if it bit you.“
Draco scoffed and started to speak undoubtedly another foul-mouthed thing but Luna’s voice interrupted him „Draco, leave Hermione alone. Your actions are unnecessary, so I’d suggest you shut that mouth of yours and let her be.“ She said with her newfound authority. His face went red but he was interrupted by McGonagall:
„Malfoy, Draco.“