Preface- Before
“Shut up Dursly you great lump”
-
Meanwhile, in Hampstead another 11 year old was reminiscing on her own conversation with a different Hogwarts staff member.
“Good morning Dr. Granger,” the older woman had greeted in her brisk Scottish accent when her mother opened the door, “I am professor Minervra McGonagall, of Hogwarts Boarding School, may I come in and discuss your daughter’s acceptance and enrollment for the following year?”
Her mother, quickly recovering from the shock of not enrolling Hermione in any such school, had thrown her a glance that conveyed the clear annoyance. She had assumed Hermione had herself applied to a new school when, after asking to transfer following yet another strange occurrence landing her in detention, her parents had refused. They were quickly running out of reputable schools in the area and short of sending her abroad they would be left with only public school. Hermione knew she never really caused issues, she got good marks, the best really, if she were honest, and while her teachers all had pleasant things to say she never had any friends. Strange things kept happening around her. A book on the top shelf would simply float down to her hands, a boy bullying her would have his pen explode staining his face, hands, and uniform, or most recently the flowers she had picked from the garden had rebloomed and continued to boast new buds. These instances amounted to strange whispers following Hermione, sometimes on the border of outright cruelty. She constantly begged to transfer schools to which her parents relented on occasion, but had refused the last few years given they didn’t fancy the other local options.
The professor had shocked them all with her explanations that Hermione was a witch and that she was given entry into Britain's leading school for educating young witches and wizards. And was prompt to prove that this was all quite real when she transfigured their coffee table into a pig and then back again, conjured a second tea set, vanished it moments later, and relayed in detail the ways most young people displayed accidental magic, blatantly describing some of Hermione’s unexplainable moments. She herself accepted it at once, knowing there had always been something different, and while her parents had taken a bit more time in understanding, eventually relented that she would be attending Hogwarts on September 1st. The professor had given explicit instructions on how to get to “wizarding London” as she called it, and detailed the banking system, and given them her school list, advising them to make the trip sooner as to not be caught in the rush of other students.
And so here she was almost vibrating with excitement as she lay awake in bed on the eve of their planning trip to Wizarding London.
-
**BRINGGGG**
**BRINGGGG**
**BRINGGGG**
Hermione slapped her alarm clock to shut it off. Today was the day! She was quite honestly astounded that she had managed any sleep at all. She quickly dressed in the clothes she had laid out the night before and brushed her teeth and hair, trying to manage the wild mess of curls. As she bounded into the kitchen she was greeted with the smell of coffee and toast, her parents already sitting at the small breakfast table starting on their own breakfasts. Hermione set about making her own coffee as her parents discussed their plans for the day.
“I think we’re best off driving to London since some of these items might attract attention on the tube,” reasoned her mother looking over her school list, and Hermione groaned. There was always so much traffic in the city it would take at least an extra hour if they didn’t leave soon.
“Well in that case, I guess we better be off!” her father turned to her with a smirk. Hermione blinked at him. They were ready to leave now? She had been expecting at least an hour or two of discussion and planning before they even began their trip to London. She bolted out of her seat, piece of toast in hand, running to her bedroom for her jacket and bag. Her father looked on and laughed, shrugging on his own jacket as her mother set the alarm.
The ride was agony, she was confident that it took at least 3 hours, although when they arrived at the dinghy pub, it was still not even mid-morning. Hermione and her parents stepped inside the Leaky Cauldron at half nine, and looked around. It was your average pub, although fairly bigger than it appeared from the outside. It also had a fair number of patrons given the early hour. The barman gave them a smile and introduced himself as Tom if they should need assistance. Hermione hesitated, trying to recall what the professor had told them, when she saw the woman stand up from a table near the window and make her way towards them. Hermione looked to her parents questioningly.
“Professor McGonagall offered to escort us during your shopping. We thought we’d surprise you!” Hermione answered her father with a grin and turned back to the professor, who ushered them toward the back of the pub.
“Now remember once you have your wand, you’ll just need to tap this brick,” indicating one a custer, “and…” and to Hermione’s amazement the bricks began to shift, opening into an archway that led to a cobblestone street lined with shops and bustling with people dressed in odd cloaks, similar to the one the older woman was wearing.
“We thought we’d let you shop while we took care of some business in London.” Her mother whispered as she kissed her cheek. Hermione looked up in wonder and nodded.
“We read the bank here could exchange money,” her father explained as he handed her an envelope. “We’ll be back to pick you up here when you’re finished shopping, but take your time and get us a few books to read up on as well!” He called out as she turned to follow her professor through the archway. She turned back to smile at him and nodded before rushing through into her new life.