One early Monday morning, England was waking up. As the sun rose, light was ascending over the cover of clouds, casting a dim glow over the city. Slowly but surely everyone was hopping out of bed and straightening themselves out, preparing to meet the day, and for most, it was a day like any other.
For Hermione Granger, it was the dawning of a new, albeit tentative hope.
She waved her parents off from the main hall of her new school, a small spring in her step as she made her way towards first period. As she passed classroom after classroom, searching for her own, she couldn’t help but steal the occasional glance at some other stragglers in the hall, startled to find them looking back at her.
Hermione straightened slightly at the attention she was receiving from some of the students. Surely, there shouldn’t be this many people in the halls while class was in session? Not that she saw more than five, but still. Tightening her hold on her book bag, Hermione quickened her pace, steadfastly looking ahead.
By the time she had reached the room, Hermione could feel her heart racing, and she hesitated before opening the door. She smoothed down her favorite vest, plaid clashing against her now blotchy complexion. Reaching for the knob, she startled back as it came flying open.
A boy was rushing out, hoisting his bag further up on his shoulder, just high enough to crash into Hermione’s bag—his, knocking her slightly off-balance. They both paused for a moment, neither entirely sure what to do, before he mumbled a soft ‘sorry’ and continued on his way. She stood in the doorway, disheveled but no longer minding as she stared at the boy’s retreating figure, his shaggy black hair looking more wild than even Hermione’s own mane.
As she looked in the classroom however, Hermione was shocked to see that her teacher’s hair was bright blue, striking against the muted beige of the classroom. She was red-faced, and shouting for the attention of the gaggle of children. It was a sight. Spotting a seat in the front row, Hermione quietly made her way to the opposite side of the room, slipping in a corner by the window.
Normalcy eventually returned, her fellow classmates not noticing the new girl over the snickering revolving around the teacher’s hair(which, as it turns out, is a wig) and a boy named ‘Harry.’ Hermione assumed that was the boy she ran into on her way in. It made for there to be little progress in the lesson, and the teacher eventually just began writing something down while instructing the class to read another chapter of the assigned text. Having gotten the syllabus mailed to her the week before, she was well ahead in the reading, so she decided to start on the next reading. It was not like she had anything better to do, and it was a very interesting topic, surrounding the Arthurian myths.
Despite the intrigue, Hermione found her mind wandering. Having been able to observe, she saw that no one paid her any mind.
Her parents had made this move in an effort to make her schooling more bearable, as over the years, Hermione had built up a bit of a slightly… snobbish reputation. Hermione would like to deny that she is, but it's a futile endeavor. She, of course, was self aware, considering the reaction that most seemed to have toward the intelligence she possessed. It was simply draining to always have to adhere to what her classmates thought, about her dress, her hair, or her inability to stop speaking. Just the thought of those comments that were constantly aimed at her was enough to make a lump catch in her throat.
Pushing her thoughts to the far corners of her mind where they belonged, Hermione sent a silent thanks to her parents for switching her to St. Gregory’s. Already, this institution was proving to be superior to her previous. The silent treatment was definitely preferable. Hermione swallowed heavily, already recycling the thoughts, refocusing on any distractions available.
Hoisting her bag onto the desk, her eyes caught the boy shuffling back into the class, so quietly that Hermione wouldn’t have caught him at all if not for the rustling of papers in his hands.
----
Entering the room, Harry crept towards Professor Hamil’s desk as quietly as he could. Almost as soon as he arrived there, she silently slid over another paper. Without comment or hesitation, Harry took it, turning away to sit at his normal place. Curiously, the girl he had run into earlier was occupying his seat. Slightly perturbed but not wanting to cause a scene, he made his way towards the back of the room to the only available seats in the middle of the room.
Glancing at the sheets in his hands, Harry had to suppress a groan. Dropping his head into his right hand, he resisted the urge to crumple it in his hands. Another slip home. Just what he needed, a red-faced Vernon spewing spit at him for another one of his ‘freakish’ incidents. He sighed, resigning himself to yet another verbal lashing once he arrived at Little Whinging. He was thankful that no one in Dudley’s gang was present to see the incident, else they have more incentive to be creative.
Reaching into his bag, Harry pulled out his fraying copy, soon catching up on the material. The ambiance of the classroom was stifling, the intermediate shuffling of his classmates grating on his focus. He pulled his gaze away from the page after having attempted to process the same paragraph for five minutes, cursing his inattention.
He turned towards his old spot, noting that the girl was reading intently, but it was not the text assigned. He couldn’t quite make out the title, though, so he looked past her, or tried to. Her hair obstructed the view of the window from where he was sitting. He thought about speaking with her, maybe trying to get his seat back but thought better of it. Dudley’s gang had influenced their entire year, prompting their isolation of Harry, and he doubted that anyone would be caught dead being kind to him.
As Harry thought about it though, a question popped up. No one seemed to have noticed the new girl, as there would usually be curious buzzing whenever something vaguely interesting happens. She’s had her head stuck in a book for the majority of the class time, and they were due for break in 10 minutes or so. If there was a slim chance she hadn’t spoken to anyone..
Unfortunately for Harry, his cousin had made his life very difficult. Despite Harry’s passive presence in his life, Dudley still took after his father in making others miserable. At home, Harry endures frequent verbal-lashings for upsetting Dudley and being generally ‘Freakish,’ and at school, Harry is mercilessly hounded by his gang of bullies, all of which do their best to prove to Dudley that they hate Harry.
They did this in many ways, but Dudley’s favorite was ‘Harry Hunting’ in which they chase Harry all over to try to pummel him. For the most part, the game ends like they want it to, but other times, Harry gets lucky. He’s very fast and because he doesn’t eat as much, incredibly light. One time, Harry was running, and while trying to jump onto some dumpsters, the wind carried him to the roof of the school kitchens. He had been sent home that day with a note from the headmistress informing the Dursley’s that he was ‘climbing on a school building’ and had been punished accordingly. The Headmistress has a soft spot for Dudley, and it showed in his ability to never get into any trouble despite how much trouble he caused. The entire school was subject to Dudley’s whims, and Dudley hated the odd little freak in Sellotape glasses and oversized clothes, and his gang made sure to let everyone know it.
The fear of this gang stretched all over the school, until the point where no one would be caught dead being kind to Harry Potter.
But that still left the question: What if Dudley hadn’t gotten to her yet?
A small jarring feeling filled Harry, one he fleetingly recognized as rare. It was more than an opportunity to get his chair back. If he could get to her before Dudley, then maybe he wouldn’t have to keep making imaginary friends when Mrs. Figg asked about school. He dared to hope.
In the end, the hope wasn’t dashed, but it wasn’t entirely fulfilled.
After confirming that, yes, she hasn’t interacted with anyone in the class, nor most of the day, Harry set out to be as nondescript as possible. He didn’t need any reason for Dudley to catch on to the plan.
Unfortunately, that meant that he couldn’t approach her until there was not one of his goons around. This proved to be harder than Harry thought. Even during break, he could see them lurking around corners. They were everywhere!
Eventually, the end of the day arrived and Harry got his chance. They were in the sports hall, running for the last and Piers Polkiss was making sure to glare at him as he made his way to the bathroom. Harry jogged ahead, catching up to the girl.
----
Hermione was slightly put out. She assumed that the silent treatment would be better, but as she reached the end of the school day, she couldn’t help but wish that she had spoken to someone. She resolved that she would speak at the next available opportunity.
Like magic, the boy from earlier appeared. Hermione slowed her pace a bit to match him, and soon they were jogging together.
“Hello, uh. I’m Harry. Potter. Harry Potter.”
“Oh, yes, I know.” At his questioning look, she clarified, “The class was talking about the incident from earlier, and your name came up.”
Hermione thought he looked particularly pained at the mention, so she pushed ahead. Introducing herself, she reached over to shake his hand, her parent’s teachings of ‘minding her manners’ ringing in her ears.
Harry still looked vaguely shocked that she offered her hand, and she almost pulled it back, but he took it. The shake was awkward, as they were still running, but he looked more comfortable, so Hermione counted it as a win.
For a while, they talked about the school. Harry shared his expertise with the teachers, though they had to disagree on the topic of the Headmistress. As the leader in the school, Hermione thought that she deserved to be shown respect and that the notion was absolute, at least until she saw Harry’s assertions were backed with horrid scenarios.
This school may not be the safe haven that Hermione had thought it to be if the teachers were able to overlook some much.
Perhaps, I should ask Mum and Dad to find another…
Hermione looked over to Harry, still keeping pace with her, and he met her look with a small smile.
Maybe it won’t be so bad afterall.
----
Harry was over the moon! He’d made a friend, free of any interference! Despite the joy of the event, as he waved goodbye to Hermione, he couldn’t help but feel like everything was going to go wrong somehow.
But, he supposed, that worry was for another day.
----
Hermione was overjoyed as she made her way out to her parent’s car, waving Harry off as she went. As she got in, she regaled her parents with her thrilling escapades, or extreme lack thereof. Her parents were ecstatic to learn of Harry, and Hermione was assured that this move was the right decision in the end. The day was rocky, but for the first time in a long time, she truly believed that everything was going to be okay for a while.
----
Harry arrived home, went straight for his cupboard, and dropped his bag. Quietly, he switched his light on, pulling out his homework. Based on his brief talk with Hermione, she made it clear how important she thought schoolwork was (“Yes that includes homework, Harry!”). Absently swatting at the spiders, he tried to make enough headway before Dudley came barging in, demanding he do his cousin’s work.
Sure enough, after making dinner, Harry was swamped with work. By the end of the night, he was exhausted. Heaving a heavy sigh, he turned in, letting his mind drift.
Today wasn’t completely terrible. He hoped the trend would continue.
----
And it did.
For the rest of the week, Hermione got to know the school, through her own eyes. Harry had given her warnings, but she wasn't sure that everything could be taken at face value. Afterall, surely the teachers couldn't be that heinous.
Then it was proven to her.
It was a Friday afternoon, and Hermione and Harry were saying their goodbyes when a particularly nasty set of boys came up from behind him,
“Well what do you know, the freak has got himself a little girlfriend!”
“She’s not my- can you just leave us alone, Dudley?” Harry spun around, positioning himself in front of Hermione. While she did appreciate it, she sidestepped him, putting a hand on his shoulder as she went in an attempt to help him cool down. He had gotten so defensive so quickly, it was unsettling to see in her normally collected friend.
“Thank you Harry, but there must be a misunderstanding here. I’m not his girlfriend, but I am his friend. I don't appreciate you calling him a freak!” She had gotten slightly heated by the end, but she hated being called names and she wasn’t about to let her only friend be called any. Especially any as unoriginal as that.
Harry looked flushed as the defense, but this was overshadowed by the laughter from the group. Hermione clenched her fists, but before she could speak, one of the greasy haired ones spoke.
“Friends? The freak doesn’t have any friends!” There was an implication behind those words that Hermione didn’t like. “He doesn’t know the first thing about having friends. He doesn’t know anything about anything!”
“I know enough! Just because you can’t find your way out of a paper bag, doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t pay attention in class! Then again, the basics might just be a little too tough for you lot?” The gang didn’t respond well to the rest of Harry’s heated insult. They were just getting angrier by the second, so Hermione tried to intervene before this became something serious.
“Listen-”
“No you listen, girl,” Dudley interrupted, knocking his shoulder with a beady eyed boy, almost sending him into the ground. “Freak here, is overdue for some good-ole hunting, and you’re in the way. Isn’t that right, Piers?” The bigger boy shot a wide but malicious grin towards the boy he’d almost flattened, and Piers nodded hard enough to clank his teeth. Hermione could feel her jaw clench. This was getting old fast.
“Well, as fascinating as that is-”
Hermione was surprised to feel Harry’s hand on her shoulder, but before she could snap at him for being interrupted yet again, she saw the headmistress approaching. Meeting eyes with Harry, Hermione displayed confidence in the teacher taking this entire conversation in a better direction, but he shook his head. Eyes dimming slightly, Hermione flushed, turning sharply to explain the situation.
“Good afternoon, Headmistress, I hope you are well. There is a small issue-”
“Well Mr. Dursley, what do we have here?” The plump woman asked the boy who had changed his demeanor in a second. His posture straightened and his face seemed to tighten around the eyes. Suddenly, Dudley Dursley could do no wrong.
And oh, how Hermione loathed the transformation.
“Headmistress, I was just talking to… Harry and the new girl, discussing classes. They were talking about how easy they found them.” Dudley crooned, laying emphasis on the words. The elder raised her eyebrow, puckering her lips a bit before she spoke.
“Is that so? Well, Mr. Potter and Miss… Granger is it? Perhaps you would benefit from a more rigorous workload, hm?” Hermione was unfazed by the suggestion, but she saw that Harry was not. He paled, and what kind of friend would she be if she let Dudley get the best of him because of her misplaced faith?
Dudley was mistaken on one front in this conversation. Hermione had spent her entire life around adults, and knew how to have an adult conversation. Even if this particular adult had decided that she was a menace on the word of a bully.
“Headmistress, yes, my name is Hermione Granger, but I assure you, compared to my previous school, this curriculum is exemplary. Truly, your leadership is to be commended. I was just discussing it with Harry, perhaps Mr. Dursley simply overheard wrong?” She put emphasis on ‘overheard’ and taking pride in Dudley getting progressively redder. “There is no need for such commotion. In regards to the workload, my parents would be remiss to not at least have a discussion about changing my curriculum so far into the school year.”
The headmistress stood for a second, comprehension dawning even as Dudley and his goons were left in confusion.
“Ah-yes. It would be remiss of our fine institution not to consider our parents. Thank you for your kind words, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your time here.” With a stiff nod, she was off, leaving the children to sort it out themselves.
“Now that the interruptions are over,” Hermione started, clearing her throat, “perhaps we can get to the crux of the issue at hand?” All she received were blank looks. She sniffed primly, careful to give a sidelong glance at Harry in exasperation before elaborating.
“What I mean to say is, there doesn’t need to be any fighting from here on. It seems that the teachers are not willing to intervene on either side of this,” Hermione saw the goons look to Dudley for validation, but they found none. “Leave us alone, and we’ll leave you alone. Simple. Easy even.”
With that, Hermione grabbed Harry’s arm and swiftly made an escape. After getting a good distance away, they broke off. Harry had a weird look on his face, aimed towards Hermione. She couldn’t take it for long.
“What?” She asked it so sharply that she had to remind herself to reign it in. Harry was her friend and did nothing to deserve her ire.
Even if he was staring at her. Hermione made a face, and that spurred him into speech.
“Um, I just had never seen anyone win when the headmistress gets involved. Dudley has got her convinced that he’s some kind of saint.” Harry chuckled bitterly at the thought, and Hermion had to agree. Dudley was one of the most unpleasant people she had ever had the misfortune of meeting.
They both looked out to see Hermione’s parents' car pulling into the line. Hermione sighed softly, but there were things she needed to know.
“Harry.” He hummed in acknowledgment, spirits still high after their encounter.
“You know you’re not a freak, right?” He paused. Seeing him about to respond, she forced more words out of her mouth.
“I just mean, they’re wrong. You’re a good friend, my only one in fact. And I, well, I’ve had my fair share of bullies, and, I’m sorry if I overstepped back there. But. I can’t- what I mean to say is. They were wrong. You are a good friend.”
Before she could talk herself out of it, she pulled Harry into a quick hug, her hair knocking his glasses askew. She pulled back, and turned to set off, but Harry caught her wrist. She met his eyes, taking in the slightly wet quality.
“You’re a good friend too, Hermione.”
She smiled, her eyes taking on the same shean. Patting him on the arm, she slipped out of his grip, heading towards her car.
If her parents saw anything, they didn’t comment, but Hermione noticed that they seemed oddly quiet on the way home. She shook her head fondly, silently thanking them for the time to process the last ten minutes.
She was a good friend. She was a good friend.
Everything was going pretty well.
----
For months, for the entire second semester in fact, they were as thick as thieves. Harry and Hermione narrowly navigated St. Gregory’s halls, staying clear of Dudley after the confrontation. The school still treated Harry, and by extension Hermione, as if he were invisible, but they both preferred it to prior treatment.
Hermione sought solace in academics, and Harry did indulge her. Having been no slouch before, he actually found it helpful to study with Hermione as much as she did, considering the speed at which he could finish both his and Dudley’s work. She was very enthusiastic about it, even jumbling words when he first agreed.
Although Harry’s role at home may not have changed much, he got relief at school. Hermione shared stories of her parents and their misadventures, while Harry shared the bare minimum about his relatives. She seemed to respect it, although he could tell she was curious.
During school, they riffed about teachers. At first Hermione didn’t like it, but about a month in, she came to realize that the teachers at this school were not perfect by any means. Their shortcomings were only highlighted by their ‘blatant ignorance,’ as Hermione put it, of anything involving Dudley or his gang.
Dudley had been pretty quiet, Hermione’s show chipping at his recklessness. At home, Harry did not suffer as many swirlies or games. It was like a switch had been dialed back on a telly. The change was jarring at first, and even Vernon and Aunt Petunia had been thrown by it, but Harry got with the program.
By break, they were the best of friends, and Harry had never been happier. Mrs. Figg couldn't even dull his smile with her stale cake.
For the first time, things were going good.
----
Perhaps she had been too bold.
Hermione should have known better than to have hope. For a girl who breathed novels like air, she didn’t seem to heed what she read.
Sara Shepard said it best. Hope breeds eternal misery.
Then again, if this stern woman in a pointed hat was to be believed, then that book was written by a muggle who knew little about anything Hermione would come across in life.
A witch.
There was so much work to do. Books to read. Professor McGonagall explained that there was an entirely different campus that she would have to attend. Tales of moving pictures held in hand, mythic creatures, and spells that could do impossible things. The professor demonstrated the art of transfiguration, transforming into a cat of all things!
It was all so amazing, almost too much to process. Hermione was almost overwhelmed. At the end of her small crisis, she could help the small tears of joy that leaked from the corners of her eyes. It was a revelation, to know that although all of the kids from her old school were technically right, they were also so wrong.
She wasn’t abnormal or weird. She was just different, and in some ways completely normal for what she was. It was everything she had ever wanted. A stray, nagging thought surfaced that dimmed the smile on her face.
Just what is she going to tell Harry?