Hermione Granger was not an ordinary girl. For one thing, she didn’t have any friends; she claimed her only friends were her books. For another thing, some strange things happened around her. This is what happened during Hermione’s first year at her new school in her fifth year.

Hermione watched her parents waving to her and she waved back out of the bus window. She sat down by herself and was planning to get out one of her books when she felt something hit her. She looked up and saw it was just a crumpled up piece of paper and it had came from the direction of the seat across from her. She ignored the boy and got out her book. Once again, when she started reading, another piece of paper hit her.

“What is it? What do you want?� she asked the boy, annoyed.

“You’re a new girl, aren’t you?� said the boy.

“Yes, I’m Hermione Granger,� she said.

“I’m Rob Crawford,� he said. “So, you like to read?� He asked this disgustedly, as if liking to read was some sort of crime.

“Yes, I do. And if you wouldn’t mind, I prefer not to be bothered while I am reading. So, if you would please leave me alone, it would be highly appreciated.�

And Hermione went on to read her book. She saw, however, out of the corner of her eye, Rob Crawford sticking his nose up in the air in a snobby imitation of herself. She heard the crumpling of paper and ignored it, reading her book. She was deep in the world of The Magician’s Nephew - the first book in one of her favorite series of all time - when she saw the ball of paper coming towards her. Aggravated, she ignored it but as it came about three inches from her face she saw it completely change direction - and hit Rob Crawford smack on the nose. She covered her mouth to keep from laughing. Rob looked at her, half with disbelief, half infuriated. She shrugged her shoulders. She had not done anything, and she could tell Rob knew that. But she would be blamed, for she was the only one that had been close to touching it. She went on reading her book, happy that she had finally made him go away - and she knew she wouldn’t be bothered by him again. Or at least she thought so.

Hermione soon faced a dilemma - someone would have to sit with her soon, for all of the seats on the bus were quickly filling up. The moment came faster than she expected, for a tall girl with her dark hair in a braid down her back sat down next to her.

“Hi,� said Hermione shyly. “I’m Hermione Granger. I’m new here.�

“I’m Mariah Walsh, and I am too,� said the girl.

Hermione looked jealously at her silky hair and her smooth, purple dress. Hermione picked up a strand of her own bushy hair and looked down at her thick skirt and tights. She went on reading, and was surprised to see that Mariah took out her own book too.

“You like to read?� she asked Mariah, and she nodded.

“Well, I don’t read all the time, I just do it sometimes.�

“I love to read,� said Hermione, stroking the spine of her book.

She loved the books because, no matter where she was or how bad things were going, things as simple as words could take her anywhere, to do anything. And she read all that she could, and most of the time when she wasn’t reading she was writing. She stroked the spine again with its raised up letters, and then the bus stopped. They were at the school.

“Now, I am going to introduce two new students in our class today,� said Miss Morin, Hermione’s new teacher. “Could I have Hermione and Mariah stand up and come to the front of the room, please?�

Hermione heard a snigger from the class and saw it came from the direction of - who else - Rob Crawford. He whispered something to someone next to him, and she heard a snigger from him too.

“Now, could I have each of you introduce yourselves and....let’s see....something you like or like to do. Hermione, why don’t you go first.�

Hermione took a deep breath. “I’m Hermione Granger, and I like...reading, and books.�

“Good, Hermione, good. Class, quiet down,� Hermione’s teacher said as half of the class started to laugh underneath their hands. Hermione blushed and focused her eyes on Mariah.

“I’m Mariah Walsh,� she said, smoothing down her dress, “and I like animals.� Mariah turned and walked to her seat, followed by Hermione. Hermione sat down next to Mariah, aware of the many eyes on her.

Class went horribly in the morning, and Hermione learned not to even glance at Rob and his friends. Hermione found that being smart was not considered a good thing in this school. Before this, she had gone to a private boarding school where everybody was at about the same grade level as her and loved reading almost as much as she did, although she was normally the best in her class.

At lunch break, Hermione asked if she could stay inside in the library. Her teacher allowed it, but when she asked Mariah to join her, she said she’d rather go outside. Hermione sighed and went to one of the only places where she felt at home - sometimes even more than her own house. At her house, she felt forced to read, and not for pleasure, but for learning. Her father made her read scientific books about animals and chemistry and biology, while her mother made her read historical books about wars and events in history. Hermione had never liked either subject and preferred fantasy, mostly the types where there were magicians and spells and potions. She smiled at the thought and immediately went to the fantasy section and immersed herself in other worlds. Maybe that’s why I like these books so much, she thought. Maybe I like to leave this world and go to another.

Hermione watched as Rob Crawford staggered into the school, half-covered in mud. One of his friends followed him in the same condition. Hermione looked over at Mariah to see that she was laughing underneath her hand. Hermione laughed too, but then stopped. She didn’t want to stoop to their level, but...seeing as they had done the same earlier to her, probably worse because she hadn’t pushed them into the mud, she let herself smile a bit.

When she heard her teacher ask, “How in the world did this happen, boys?�

Rob answered, “I....I don’t know. One second we were playing football, the next we were in the mud puddle.�

Hermione laughed, but then stopped. How had this happened? Similar things had happened like this before, and she was beginning to see a pattern. She tried to remember the first time it had happened. She was seven. It was the summer after she had finished first grade at a public primary school that her parents had disliked, but Hermione had enjoyed. Her mother had been looking into a few private boarding schools to ensure that Hermione got the ‘chance to learn more than she could’. She had the forms for the schools on her bedside table, Hermione remembered, and with it the feeling of anger that her parents were taking control of her. One day they had been there and they were gone the next. There had been a full search of the house and they were never found again. Hermione had not ended up going to the school she had hoped to, but she didn’t go to a boarding school. Her parents had, however, never questioned their daughter’s oddness or even seemed to notice it. Maybe I’m going mad, she thought.

That night at the dinner table, the house was full of excitement - Hermione’s parents were planning her birthday. Hermione was not the cause of the excitement, however, because her birthday had never really excited her very much. Her parents insisted on her old and often confused grandmother coming, who often talked to herself about what seemed like an imaginary character who she insisted was her great-great-uncle and could do magic. Hermione normally would have been fascinated by this sort of thing, but she knew how old and confused her grandmother ("It’s Grammy!" her mother always persisted) must be. Her parents also never let her have a birthday cake or any sort of sweet because they were dentists - Hermione thought this quite odd, for her father would sneak into the cupboard above the refrigerator every night to get bits of chocolate - and they always insisted that she invited at least one friend over. Hermione had never had many friends that stayed awhile before Mariah, which made her sure that she wouldn’t stay long, but she decided to invite her, because, as they always said in books, ‘there’s always a first time.’

“Happy Birthday, Hermione!� Hermione’s parents cried. Hermione groaned and looked over at her old-fashioned clock on her bedside table.

“Five-fifteen?� she complained. She liked getting up early, but this was going too far.

“Oh, I know, we’re six minutes late, but we tried our best,� her mother said. Hermione groaned again. “It’s not my fault that I was born this early in the morning. Can’t you have waited a little longer?� Hermione asked grumpily. Her father laughed. “Oh, believe me, we couldn’t.� Hermione rolled her eyes. She hadn’t meant it that way.

There was a sudden crash from downstairs and both of Hermione’s parents rushed downstairs. Hermione sighed, glad for an excuse to sleep, not worried at all about the sound from downstairs until she heard gasps and another person’s voice that she didn’t recognize.

“Hermione! Get down here!� her mother called from downstairs. Still in her nightgown, Hermione pulled on her robe and ran downstairs, embarrassed. The last thing she wanted to do right now was meet a visitor - let alone in her pajamas. She pulled her robe more tightly around her chest as she walked into the room, nervous. She was shocked to see a woman in a stiff, formal-looking, black suit in her living room.

,p>“And you must be Hermione,� the woman said. Hermione blinked twice, making sure this was all real. “Yes.� She nodded.

“I’m Minerva McGonagall, and I’m here on a special occasion. Before we talk about that, how about we sit down.� The woman smiled slightly at Hermione, but she could tell that this was not a normal occasion. Hermione’s mother looked rather taken aback at being told to sit down in their own house, but said,

“Yes. You can take off your shoes, Miss McGonagall.� She did so. Hermione sank onto the couch, wondering what in the world was going on. Minerva McGonagall sat across from her. “Now Hermione, I have a special something to tell you. You have been chosen to come to our school. Hogwarts.� Hermione’s father started to protest at once.

“We haven’t put her up for any schools, especially one with a name like that.�

“No,� McGonagall assured, “You were not involved in this process. We have picked Hermione to come here. She posesses special.....talents that we welcome in our school.�

“And what are these special talents?� Hermione’s mother asked indignantly. “Hermione is quite brilliant, yes, but what else can she do that is so special?�

“Now Hermione, I know the answer to this question already, but I am going to ask you anyway. Have you had anything strange happen to you, when you are feeling....angry? Or threatened? Or scared?� Hermione nodded excitedly, glad to find out the secret of these happenings. McGonagall looked at her, nodding, then turned to her parents, who had given themselves as much distance from the woman as they could. “Your daughter....is a witch.� Hermione squinted, looking at McGonagall.

“What?�

“You can do magic,� McGonagall answered. Hermione’s father stood up in his seat, while her mother looked as if she was about to faint.

“Preposterous!� he cried. “There’s no such thing as magic!� Hermione felt in the same position as him until McGonagall took a wand from her pocket, pointed it at a bowl on the counter, and it shattered into pieces. Hermione’s mother squealed and jumped to her feet, but sank down into her chair faintly as McGonagall waved her wand again and fixed the bowl in seconds. Hermione watched her mother sink down to the floor. Hermione’s father stayed still, staring at the bowl as if wondering if it was real.

McGonagall looked at them, her face without expression.

“Now do you believe me? I am sure your daughter has done things quite similar to that, although, unlike now, she did not do them on purpose or know what she was doing.� McGonagall looked at their stunned faces calmly. To Hermione’s surprise, they both nodded.

“So,� McGonagall said. “We will be starting term soon, meaning that Hermione will need to get her schoolbooks and such. I will go with her on this journey, just meet me here on August sixteenth. We will go together, and if you don’t want to come, that will be perfectly fine. And don’t worry about money, we have a small share for our new Muggle-born wizards. Now, if you excuse me, I have to be meeting someone in.....� she looked at the clock. “Promptly thirty seconds.� And with that, she disappeared into midair. Hermione gaped at this magic, watching her mother faint into her chair again when she realized the strange shoes the woman had had on her feet were still there.

For Hermione, it seemed like August sixteenth could not come quickly enough. She had stopped reading nonfiction books completely and had stuck solely to fantasy books with people who could do magic, always imagining herself being the one who was casting the spell or brewing the potion. But one day, the day that never seemed it would come did come, and the strangely-dressed woman was outside their front door again. This time Hermione’s parents let her in more willingly, having seen what she could do. Today, McGonagall was dressed in a long green robe and a pointed witch hat to match. Does she not realize it’s summer? Hermione wondered. She stepped outside into the hot but slightly breezy outdoors and let McGonagall in.

“Now, I suppose you’re wondering how we are going to get your school supplies. You see, us wizards and witches do not use cars or vehicles like muggles - non-magical people - do. We will be travelling by Floo Powder, which will allow you to travel through the chimneys. Normally, your chimney would not be able to do this, but under the circumstances, it has been temporarily connected. Now, I will show you how it’s done.� She showed Hermione how to travel by Floo Powder, then turned to Hermione’s parents. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to say goodbye now.� Hermione hugged her parents both goodbye. Her mother was crying, but Hermione thought this was partly because of the fact that she was going away with a strange woman to a strange place.

“I’ll be fine, mum, and I'll be back in a few hours,� she said to comfort her. Her mother just nodded, tears streaming silently down her face, and smiled at her daughter.

“You’re quite brave, sweetie,� was all she said. Hermione didn’t know whether to take this as a compliment or not, but decided to just go. She hugged her father one last time, and, doing what McGonagall said, stepped into the fireplace, dropped in a pinch of what she had called ‘Floo Powder’, and said,

“Diagon Alley!� She spun through the chimneys, keeping her arms at her side as she had been told. She stopped at a fireplace inside of some sort of shop and stumbled out, her white blouse now rather dirty. Seconds later, McGonagall stepped out behind her.

“We should be off, then, shall we?� she asked Hermione. Hermione nodded excitedly, eager to begin. They walked out of the store and entered a long pathway with many shops on the sides. The streets were crowded with witches and wizards dressed similarly to McGonagall, and suddenly Hermione felt that she was the one who was out of place.

“Let’s start with your books first, shall we?� McGonagall pointed to a bookshop with the name Flourish and Blott’s. Hermione nodded and looked down at the list of supplies. Hermione stepped into the bookshop that was crowded with people after Professor McGonagall, and was amazed by the number of books that it held. It looked small from the outside, but on the inside, it carried thousands, maybe millions of books. McGonagall looked at Hermione’s wide eyes and said,

“I’ll start finding your books, you can have a look around.� Hermione nodded gratefully, glad for a chance to look around. She scanned the shelves for interesting titles to look through, though it didn’t take long to find something interesting. There was House-Elves & Self-Hatred, a series telling about magical creatures working as servants for magical people and the punishments they had to give themselves, which Hermione found barbaric and cruel, Voyages With Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart, who was quite good-looking, Hermione thought, Goshawk’s Guide to Herbology by Miranda Goshawk, Achievements in Charming, Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts, and many other non-fictional books from the wizarding world. There were fictional books too, but the ones that fascinated Hermione the most were the ones on magical law. She stayed there in the corner of the bookstore with a pile of books next to her until McGonagall found her. Hermione stood up suddenly and started hurriedly putting the books on the shelves. She wasn’t exactly afraid of McGonagall. She just felt that she couldn’t fool around with her.

“Enjoying yourself, are you?� said McGonagall slightly sternly.

“Well.....yes, Professor,� Hermione decided to tell the truth. “I could stay here my life.�

McGonagall nodded.

“I bet you could. I’ve found all of the books that you need. How about we go to get your cauldron next? And would you be interested in a pet? There’s enough money for one, but I suppose you could use that for extra books....� McGonagall looked to her for an answer.

“Oh...I suppose I’ll get some books,� said Hermione. She thought the animal would be interesting, but all of these books surrounding her were just calling her name. She hurried to pick out a few books, pay for them and the ones McGonagall had gotten, and go to get her cauldron.

After getting her cauldron and most of the other things she needed, she went to get a wand at Ollivander’s. After just a few tries, she got one that Mr. Ollivander claimed to be,

“Ten and three-quarter inches, vine wood, dragon heartstring core.� Hermione’s eyes widened at the wand and she looked down at it in her hand, smiling at the power she held. McGonagall led her out of the store and into another to use the Floo Network to bring her back home.

When they departed, Hermione smiled and thanked McGonagall for all of her help. Hermione’s parents, however, seemed quite scared of McGonagall still, but nonetheless glad that they had gotten their daughter back. When they found that Hermione had a wand and many other tools to make magical things, they ordered her to immediately put them into her room and expected to never see them out until the day she needed them.....which would be fourteen days away from then. Hermione felt that she would never be able to wait.

Mariah,
I have some bad news. I’m afraid I won’t be seeing you again until the next holiday. I have been requested for a boarding school far away (for Hermione had realized, even she didn’t know where the school was) and I’m leaving on August 30th. I’ll write to my parents and you as much as I can, and I can’t wait to see you again!
Missing you already,
Hermione


Hermione folded up the letter and sealed the envelope, wiping her eyes. However excited she was to go to Hogwarts, she still didn’t feel ready to go away from the only life she knew, away from the only friend she had. She put Mariah’s address, the return, and a stamp on the letter and tried to contain herself so that she could mail it.


After mailing the letter, Hermione settled herself down on her bed. She would be leaving tomorrow, and the impact of what a big change this would be was just hitting her. She looked through her suitcase, making sure she had everything that had been on the Hogwarts list and a few more personal items of her own - including a picture of her parents and herself. She double and triple-checked that she had every item for sure, and then began to read about everything there was to know about Hogwarts and the magical world. She still felt herself quite unprepared for the magic that some of the children who had grown up with magical families would know. She had tried a few spells and succeeded with them, but after receiving a terrifying warning letter from the Ministry of Magic about not using magic outside of school, she stopped immediately.


Hermione had thought about the many interesting aspects of the school she was going to go to soon. One of the most interesting, she had thought, was the Sorting. In Hogwarts, a History, it explained how the Sorting had begun. Hermione had thought over all of the houses carefully, and had decided (although she couldn’t be sure, she didn’t know what the Sorting Hat was like) that she would be in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. She had also decided that she was most excited for Charms and Transfiguration. Ancient Runes sounded fascinating as well, but she was disappointed to learn that she would not be able to pick that class until her third year. Everything was just too exciting to think about.



When Hermione settled into bed that night, she found herself unable to go to sleep. When she finally did fall asleep - about two hours after her bedtime - her dreams were filled with Hogwarts, good and bad.



Hermione awoke the next morning before her alarm and quickly got dressed into her school robes. The letter hadn’t said if they would have time to change on the train, so she decided to stay on the safe side. She picked up her suitcase, woke up her still-sleeping parents and told them to come to the car with her.


“Hermione, go back to bed,� her mother told her. “We’ve only got a half hour drive and it’s five thirty! Your train leaves at eleven.� Hermione sighed and went back into her room, deciding to read her schoolbooks one more time, just to be sure she knew everything.
When they finally left the house at ten o’clock to go to the train station, Hermione had to take one last look around. This is the last time I’ll see this before Christmas break, maybe even the summer holidays, she thought. After her look around the house, she looked around outside her house, inhaling the smell of the summer garden, the mown grass. She surveyed the neighbor’s houses and was surprised to see two large brown eyes watching her out of a window. At first Hermione jumped, afraid of what the neighbor would think of her in her strange robes, but then she realized who it was. The big, deep brown eyes, the tan complexion, the midnight-black hair... It was as if Hermione was literally falling backwards into a flashback. She remembered, in fourth year, everybody would have to read to a preschooler. Hermione had gotten Naliah, a little girl who loved to be read to and, Hermione felt, respected her more than anyone ever had before. After the day that the two realized they lived near each other... they had spent hours together, reading books of all sorts outside on the lawn between their houses. it was more than a friendship, it was a connection between the two of them. And now... now... Hermione realized that would probably never happen again. It was as if something had hit her... she was making a completely new life... she would probably never see Mariah or Naliah ever again....


“Hermione, dear, are you coming?� her mother called.

Hermione responded, “Yes, mum!� and looked back into the window one last time. Naliah waved, and Hermione waved back. Then Naliah disappeared from the view of the window, and Hermione left.


When they arrived at the train station, twenty minutes to eleven, Hermione hugged her parents with all of her might.


“I’ll write every week, I promise. Unless I have too much work, I will. I’ve read there’s owls that send messages that I can borrow to write to you, and you can send an owl back with a letter back. Maybe I’ll try and write you tonight. Please don’t worry about me,� she said as her mother started to cry.


“I know you’ll be great in school, honey,� her father said. “Just try your best and I know you will.�


“I will, dad,� she promised. “Bye, Mum! Bye, Dad!� she called as she headed towards the platform that McGonagall had told her to run at. She ran towards and straight through it, with a brick wall now behind her, away from the non-magical world.