- Rating:
- G
- House:
- The Dark Arts
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Spoilers:
- Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban
- Stats:
-
Published: 12/31/2001Updated: 02/04/2002Words: 3,419Chapters: 3Hits: 3,935
Chapter 02
- Posted:
- 01/10/2002
- Hits:
- 679
I want to be all that I am capable of becoming.
-Katherine Mansfield
---*---
For the first time in her life Hermione was completely alone. She had stood there for a second, on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, shocked still. She wondered if she should run back to her parents, if should beg them to take her back, to forget about magic and Hogwarts and go back to being *normal*.
But something inside fortified her - straightened her back - made her swoop her hair out of her eyes and board the Hogwarts Express exactly as if she did this every year. She pretended she wasn't nervous, she smiled gamely at the funny brown-haired boy behind her, and she took a seat in a mostly empty compartment.
She was *Hermione*. She knew what she was doing, and she was smart and well-read and she was *not* overwhelmed.
-----
A boy needed to find his toad - of course she would help him, it was no problem, had he thought of doing a seeking spell? No? Well, why not?
No, she wasn't completely sure how to do one, but she'd certainly read about them. Hadn't he?
Where? The Charms book. It was obvious, wasn't it?
Of course she had read all the books. Hadn't everyone? Goodness, you're going to be very far behind . . . what's your name? Well, Neville, when everyone else is ahead of you in school, you can't say no one warned you.
-----
She met Harry and Ron on that train ride, and she had been severely underwhelmed by the both of them. They were so small, so skinny, and Ron, especially, had seemed so . . . well. She had gotten the idea they weren't too impressed with her either, though she couldn't imagine why - after all, she was just trying to help.
Hermione had been so sure of herself, so proud; true, she soon found she was a bit overprepared, but she really couldn't see the harm.
The other children on the train ride were nice to her. She found a few who had actually read the course books before they got to school, which was very good. She worried about the Sorting, but she didn't show it, because she felt it would be very good indeed if they thought she was always prepared.
-----
She remembers Hagrid calling to the first years, the boat ride, and maybe most important, the first time she saw Hogwarts. She had seen it in books, of course, but what were books compared to this?
She doesn't like to admit it, but when Hermione first saw that castle, she felt that the little pangs of worry were going to tear straight through her guts. She held her hands tightly in her lap and tried to ignore the little shivers passing along her back and the way her breath came in short sharp gasps, what if they finally found out she was just a mistake what if the owl took the letter to the wrong house, that made much more sense than her being a *witch* because witches aren't real, everyone knows that. Silly. Silly.
Silly.
-----
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Hermione couldn't seem to remember a time she had felt more proud of herself.
-----
School at Hogwarts was like what Hermione had imagined any muggle boarding school to be like. That was both very comforting and bitterly disappointing.
She had wanted so much for something new, for schoolmates that would recognize the need to work as hard as possible, to really excel, but no - the children were the same. They were lazy and unambitious, wasting their time on silly things, putting their work off til the very last minute. They still teased her when she tried to show them how to do things right. They still didn't like her, didn't trust her - she was too smart for her own good, they said.
For the life of her Hermione couldn't understand why that was so wrong.
-----
Ron and Harry don't like me, she thought, and she knew it was true. They like her now, now she's their friend, their trusted ally, but they didn't used to.
Know-it-all Hermione, bossy Hermione, ugly Hermione she sometimes suspected they said behind her back. Sometimes she wished they would like her. Mostly, though, she just thought that she would show them, someday, and that she was cleverer than they could ever hope to be in their most wildest dreams.
She thinks of them, of Harry and Ron, and sometimes she hates them! They disregard rules like broom clippings, they're reckless and impulsive, half the times they barely slip by in class. They don't often have the proper respect for things that she does, and she dislikes their disregard for the importance of schoolwork.
Hermione thinks of herself then, invisible behind her stacks of books, and nearly cries.
-----
Another year, and Ginny Weasley comes to Hogwarts. Hermione smiles. Ginny is good and sweet and very innocent. She loves Ginny too, she supposes, but it isn't the same sort of love she has for Ron and Harry.
That was the year muggle-borns were attacked, she remembers vaguely. Mudblood, Malfoy had called her, and the word meant nothing, even less than it does now. To her, it's just another word.
She thinks briefly of Malfoy, all smooth white skin and grey eyes and sleek blonde hair. He is white velvet stark against his black school robes, always with an unpleasant expression and an even less pleasant remark. She sees him being turned into a ferret, and she laughs; she sees him insulting Hagrid, nearly getting him fired, and her fingers curl in bitter hatred.
-----
Hermione misses Professor Lockhart.
-----
Harry frightened her sometimes, strange Harry, Harry who everything always happened to. It was downright eerie to have a best friend who you had to constantly fear for the life of. A best friend who was always the focus, always the center, but that, at least, Hermione likes. She doesn't want to be the center of attention. She just wants to help.
Hermione, Snape's trying to kill me. Hermione, I have to get the Sorcerer's Stone. Hermione, I have to stop the Heir of Slytherin.
With Harry it's always life and death. There's always a crisis, demanding and strong and *now*, something that the three of them can put their all into. Always some new scary evil, be it Snape or Malfoy or You-Know-Who or Divination or Sirius Black or just anything, just a thousand different crisises and worries. Her head floods trying to remember it all.
And she knows, deep inside, that that is why they're friends.
-----
-Katherine Mansfield
---*---
For the first time in her life Hermione was completely alone. She had stood there for a second, on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, shocked still. She wondered if she should run back to her parents, if should beg them to take her back, to forget about magic and Hogwarts and go back to being *normal*.
But something inside fortified her - straightened her back - made her swoop her hair out of her eyes and board the Hogwarts Express exactly as if she did this every year. She pretended she wasn't nervous, she smiled gamely at the funny brown-haired boy behind her, and she took a seat in a mostly empty compartment.
She was *Hermione*. She knew what she was doing, and she was smart and well-read and she was *not* overwhelmed.
-----
A boy needed to find his toad - of course she would help him, it was no problem, had he thought of doing a seeking spell? No? Well, why not?
No, she wasn't completely sure how to do one, but she'd certainly read about them. Hadn't he?
Where? The Charms book. It was obvious, wasn't it?
Of course she had read all the books. Hadn't everyone? Goodness, you're going to be very far behind . . . what's your name? Well, Neville, when everyone else is ahead of you in school, you can't say no one warned you.
-----
She met Harry and Ron on that train ride, and she had been severely underwhelmed by the both of them. They were so small, so skinny, and Ron, especially, had seemed so . . . well. She had gotten the idea they weren't too impressed with her either, though she couldn't imagine why - after all, she was just trying to help.
Hermione had been so sure of herself, so proud; true, she soon found she was a bit overprepared, but she really couldn't see the harm.
The other children on the train ride were nice to her. She found a few who had actually read the course books before they got to school, which was very good. She worried about the Sorting, but she didn't show it, because she felt it would be very good indeed if they thought she was always prepared.
-----
She remembers Hagrid calling to the first years, the boat ride, and maybe most important, the first time she saw Hogwarts. She had seen it in books, of course, but what were books compared to this?
She doesn't like to admit it, but when Hermione first saw that castle, she felt that the little pangs of worry were going to tear straight through her guts. She held her hands tightly in her lap and tried to ignore the little shivers passing along her back and the way her breath came in short sharp gasps, what if they finally found out she was just a mistake what if the owl took the letter to the wrong house, that made much more sense than her being a *witch* because witches aren't real, everyone knows that. Silly. Silly.
Silly.
-----
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Hermione couldn't seem to remember a time she had felt more proud of herself.
-----
School at Hogwarts was like what Hermione had imagined any muggle boarding school to be like. That was both very comforting and bitterly disappointing.
She had wanted so much for something new, for schoolmates that would recognize the need to work as hard as possible, to really excel, but no - the children were the same. They were lazy and unambitious, wasting their time on silly things, putting their work off til the very last minute. They still teased her when she tried to show them how to do things right. They still didn't like her, didn't trust her - she was too smart for her own good, they said.
For the life of her Hermione couldn't understand why that was so wrong.
-----
Ron and Harry don't like me, she thought, and she knew it was true. They like her now, now she's their friend, their trusted ally, but they didn't used to.
Know-it-all Hermione, bossy Hermione, ugly Hermione she sometimes suspected they said behind her back. Sometimes she wished they would like her. Mostly, though, she just thought that she would show them, someday, and that she was cleverer than they could ever hope to be in their most wildest dreams.
She thinks of them, of Harry and Ron, and sometimes she hates them! They disregard rules like broom clippings, they're reckless and impulsive, half the times they barely slip by in class. They don't often have the proper respect for things that she does, and she dislikes their disregard for the importance of schoolwork.
Hermione thinks of herself then, invisible behind her stacks of books, and nearly cries.
-----
Another year, and Ginny Weasley comes to Hogwarts. Hermione smiles. Ginny is good and sweet and very innocent. She loves Ginny too, she supposes, but it isn't the same sort of love she has for Ron and Harry.
That was the year muggle-borns were attacked, she remembers vaguely. Mudblood, Malfoy had called her, and the word meant nothing, even less than it does now. To her, it's just another word.
She thinks briefly of Malfoy, all smooth white skin and grey eyes and sleek blonde hair. He is white velvet stark against his black school robes, always with an unpleasant expression and an even less pleasant remark. She sees him being turned into a ferret, and she laughs; she sees him insulting Hagrid, nearly getting him fired, and her fingers curl in bitter hatred.
-----
Hermione misses Professor Lockhart.
-----
Harry frightened her sometimes, strange Harry, Harry who everything always happened to. It was downright eerie to have a best friend who you had to constantly fear for the life of. A best friend who was always the focus, always the center, but that, at least, Hermione likes. She doesn't want to be the center of attention. She just wants to help.
Hermione, Snape's trying to kill me. Hermione, I have to get the Sorcerer's Stone. Hermione, I have to stop the Heir of Slytherin.
With Harry it's always life and death. There's always a crisis, demanding and strong and *now*, something that the three of them can put their all into. Always some new scary evil, be it Snape or Malfoy or You-Know-Who or Divination or Sirius Black or just anything, just a thousand different crisises and worries. Her head floods trying to remember it all.
And she knows, deep inside, that that is why they're friends.
-----