Young Miss Hermione
Hermione woke up the next morning to a loud voice outside of her bedroom door - at least she assumed that the chambers she lay in were now her own.
She hardly even remembered going to sleep after the familial ritual took place. She was sure that her first exposure to something other than accidental magic had drained her somehow.
Pulling back the sheets and lowering her feet to the floor, she began to take in her surroundings.
Mid-thought, a loud bang drew her attention back to the commotion at the door that had awoken her.
Hermione didn’t know what to expect as she made her way to answer the door.
She certainly didn’t expect to be tackled.
Yet there she was, stumbling backwards as a blur of dark messy hair launched itself at her.
She felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around her in a tight embrace, and it was then that she realized she was meeting her brother.
She was quick to return the embrace, a bright blush spreading on her face as she held onto him.
Melodic laughter came from the pair’s mother in the doorway as she watched her children meet for the first time.
Slowly, James released Hermione from his tight grasp and stepped back, nervously holding his hands behind his back.
James wasn’t much taller than Hermione was, so she figured he couldn’t be too much older than her. He strongly resembled Fleamont, but his hair and eye coloring had clearly come from Euphemia.
The pair of siblings spent some time observing one another, before James finally spoke.
“I’m glad she got your looks Mum, Dad would make an awful looking girl.”
Euphemia made a light sound of disapproval at her son’s words, hiding a smile that threatened to break free.
“Well, let’s not say that to your father, alright James?”
………
A few moments later, the two left Hermione to herself with instructions to prepare for the day, and to call for Tilly once she was done.
She hadn’t learned much about her new brother from there brief conversation, but she had discovered that he was only six months older than her, making her just barely his little sister.
With James’ earlier comment in mind, she headed to the floor length mirror by her wardrobe, staring at her own reflection with wide eyes.
The little girl that stared back at her seemed to be a much more poised version of herself.
Her chocolate hair had darkened to the same near-black shade that Euphemia and James shared. Her hair retained its curly nature, but appeared less unruly than it had previously.
This came as a shock to her, considering the state of her father and brother’s hair. She was sure she would’ve gotten the short end of the stick on that.
In the end, she decided she still looked mostly like the old Hermione Granger had.
After taking in her new appearance, she began to ready herself for the day as she had been instructed.
A periwinkle day dress had been laid out for her, along with undergarments, and shoes.
After dressing herself, she grabbed hold of the bow that had been left for her, calling softly.
“Tilly?”
With a soft pop, Tilly appeared at the witches side.
“Young miss Hermione is ready for breakfast?”
“Yes Tilly, thank you.”
Tilly stretched her hand out to her new ‘young miss’ ready to apparate her to the dining room.
James had told her that apparation with a house elf would make her stomach swirl, and he was right about that.
But Hermione wanted to learn. She wanted to experience the magic.
That and she didn’t know her way to the dining room.
They had landed at the entrance of the dining room, where the rest of the Potter family stood waiting to begin their day together.
..........
Following breakfast, Fleamont guided Hermione to his study on the second floor of Potter Manor.
As the pair headed up the stairs, hand-in-hand, Hermione hummed to herself. The trip from the dining room to her father’s study was longer than she had anticipated, regardless of how large she had known the manor to be.
She took the time on the walk to observe her surroundings, hoping to learn the layout of the manor soon, lest she get lost in one of the less used wings.
Noticing how in awe his daughter was at the manor, Fleamont promised her a tour, after the conversation they were to have.
Finally arriving at the study, Fleamont flicked his wand to perform a silent Lumos, lighting the study up for them.
He gestured for Hermione to take a seat, as he unlocked a small drawer in his desk and pulled out a small box.
“There are a few things that you do not know about our family yet, little lioness.” Fleamont began “You see, the Potter family is a very important line. We descend from the great Lord Godrick Gryffindor himself. He was one of the finest wizards to exist. As such, a great deal will be expected of you Hermione.”
He knelt down, opening the box to reveal a small ruby bracelet, the crest of House Potter on the largest of the rubies.
“Daughters of our house are greatly respected. As such you will be expected to take lessons alongside young ladies your own age in a few years. For now, you will share a tutor with James, and take a few separate lessons with your mother. Things suitable to a lady.”
Hermione nodded, staring at the beautiful bracelet that sat in her fathers hand.
“This bracelet is meant to protect you from any danger. When you’re old enough, I’ll teach you about the magic behind it. Will you accept and wear this each and every day, Hermione?”
“Yes, father”
With those two words, Fleamont was beaming. He slid the bracelet onto his daughter’s delicate wrist, sealing it with an enchantment.
Hermione looked back up at him, her smile mirroring his own.
..........
As promised, Hermione was given a tour by her father.
They were about halfway through when James decided to join in, adding to anything his father had to say about their ancestral home.
“You see here? I used to hide snacks that Tilly made in here. Mum found out about a week ago though. I’ll get a new hiding spot soon enough.”
Hermione found herself giggling at her brother’s antics, and soon enough the tour had landed them at the library.
Although still a child, Hermione had such a strong thirst for knowledge. Having a library such as the one the Potter’s had meant having the knowledge of the world, and of magic at the tip of her fingers.
But for now, she would stick to her children’s books. When she was older and could understand them, she would explore the rest of her parent’s library in depth.
The first she picked up was titled The Tales of Beetle the Bard, handing it to her father in hopes that he would read the tale to herself and James.