Do You Believe in Magic?

Hermione Granger

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione Granger sat at her favorite table in the local library on front of a large window where a massive tree waved it's branches majestically on the warm August day. The girl loved the peacefulness the library exuded when she tried to study. The librarians loved the well-behaved girl. Anytime Hermione came, the librarians smiled. It was a normal day for the people in the library until August 22nd.

"Hullo, Mrs. Baker," Hermione chirped as she slid into her normal table, gently placing her blue jacket on the back of her chair.

"Hullo, dear. Happy Birthday," the librarian responded as she passed by, arms filled with books.

Hermione thanked the woman; ignoring the fact the elder librarian wished her a Happy Birthday twenty - eight days in advance, and opened her book bag. She heaved out her schoolbooks and opened them in front of her. She was the only student in her year who had signed up for summer school, in hopes of increasing her knowledge. Hermione had just gotten into her studies, for there was not time like the present to increase her knowledge, when she was interrupted by a tapping sound on the window panel behind her. She turned and looked out at the glass, her eyebrows meeting her bushy hair.

Is that an owl, she thought as she looked at the flying creature, which settled itself on one of the tree branches. The tawny owl hooted snootily, as if it were of great importance. I didn't know that owls lived around here. Strange.

Without giving it another thought, and more interested in finishing her homework, the girl turned away and immersed herself into her tome.

Tap . . . tap . . . tap.

Hermione turned again, startled out of her work. The owl was pecking against the glass, wings fluttering as it struggled to stay aloft. The girl stared at the aviary, looking closely to the object tied to the creature's leg.

It looks like . . . paper. The child scrunched up her face, eyebrows furrowing as she looked around the library. The other people in the room did not seem to be worried. In fact, none of them seemed to notice the owl that was still pecking at the glass. Shifting uncomfortably, Hermione turned back to her notes. She was unable to concentrate, though, and soon found herself making her way to the front of the room where the librarians sat by the Check Out/Renewal counter. She pulled Mrs. Baker aside.

"Hermione, dear," Mrs. Baker's elderly voice wafted to her ears, "are you alright? Do you need help finding something? This library just received a new shipment of books . . ."

"No, no. That's quite alright. I'm in the middle of reading a brilliant novel, actually. I don't need anything right this moment," Hermione replied, "but there is a bit of a problem."

"Oh, really," the woman warbled. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"Well," Hermione said as if she were about to conspire with the old lady. She threw a glance around the room to make sure no one was listening in, and said in a hushed voice, "you know the table where I normally sit?" She waited for a nod. "Well, while I was reading, an owl came up to the window and started banging on it!"

"What," Mrs. Baker cried. "Owls don't live in this part of England!"

"Oh, I know," Hermione said hastily, ignoring the looks she was receiving from the other library patrons. "I don't know. Maybe the owl was hurt or something." She took Mrs. Baker's hand and the rushed to where Hermione's books laid open. What they saw, made them stop in shock.

Mrs. Baker adjusted her glasses, eyes blinking rapidly. "Oh my," she said, "oh, my!"

"Hundreds. Hundreds of owls," Hermione whispered. The large, sturdy tree could hardly be seen. Owls -- different colors covered every branch, an assortment of shapes.

"Are they carrying something," Mrs. Baker asked, squinting. She edged closer to the window. "Why, yes! They are! I'm . . . I'm not really sure what, but it seems like they're carrying. . . paper? How extraordinary. Oh, look! They keep flying towards the window, as if they're trying to get in." The woman looked around in awe of her environment. "Well, I do not see anything that would or should be of great interest to an owl, let alone any kind of bird."

"Um, do you think we should do something?" questioned Hermione, rubbing her tongue against her incisors as she normally did when she was nervous. "I don't think it's right for owls to be behaving that way." She was about to continue, but suddenly, the owls took flight. The elder woman and the young girl looked at each other.

Mrs. Baker wringed her hands, helplessly. "Now, what do you suppose that was all a --" She was cut off by shrieks from the front of the library. The two rushed forward, and balked at the sight.

Owl after owl streamed into the library, one right after the other, sailing over the heads of panicking library patrons. Many of the people were running, books held over their heads, or trying to swat the owls away, while others crouching under tables. They hooted loudly as they came in, circling around the room searching for one person in particular -- Hermione Granger.

They swooped down, dropping the object from their beaks in front of the girl. Slowly, Hermione crouched down and picked up a paper. It was a letter with a purple crest, a large letter 'H' stamped on it's seal. She turned it over:

Hermione Granger

In front of large glass window

Next to Mrs. Baker

Public Library

Oxfordshire

, England

Before Hermione could open the epistle, the library doors burst open. Five people dressed in strange clothing appeared in the room, long sticks pushed ahead of them as if used for protection.

It's not that they're strangely dressed

, Hermione noted as she straightened up and shoved the letter into her pocket, but more of laid back about what they're wearing. I don't know many people who wear shirts with bright orange with green polka dots, and striped pants .

"Nobody move!" came the order from one of the newcomers. The woman turned towards the others in the cluster behind her slightly. "Spread out, and make sure that everyone who was here when the owls came are still around."

"Following your orders, Elizabeth," one of the people from the cluster said, as they fanned out, speaking in quiet voices to the people closest to him or her.

I guess she's the leader. Hermione absently thought. The young girl was more interested in how the letter was able to pinpoint her exact location next to Mrs. Baker who was still wringing her hands. Especially from people she had never heard about. She arose from her stupor when Mrs. Barker grabbed her arm, the old lady's grip tightening in a painful fashion around the younger girl as the leader of the group walked towards them, stick held firmly in her left hand.

"Hullo!" Elizabeth said rather brightly. "I'm Elizabeth, but people call me Lizzie.--"

Mrs. Baker pushed Hermione behind her to shield the girl, a look of terror on her face. "Leave Hermione alone. The girl did nothing wrong."

Lizzie waved away the old woman's comment. "Lean in a bit closer. I have something to ask you . . .Wait a minute, did you say Hermione? As in Hermione Granger?"

How does she know my name? Have I done something? Hermione struggled to keep from trembling. She was not one who entered trouble willingly. "Er, yes. My name is Hermione."

Lizzie smiled. "Oh, well, in that case, could you go into that room for a little bit?" She pointed to a door that led to a storage area for books, located behind Hermione.

"But --"

"Ah, there's a good girl," Lizzie said, pushing the girl through the door that led to a storage area. Lizzie turned back to Mrs. Baker who squeaked loudly. "Now, ma'am, there's no need to cry. I promise. Oblivi --" The door had swung shut, and Hermione could not hear what Lizzie was saying anymore. In a few seconds, the door opened and the surprised faces of Mrs. Baker and Lizzie stared at her.

"Why, Hermione! What are you doing in here?" Mrs. Baker asked.

"She," Hermione pointed at Lizzie who blinked, "shoved me in here!"

"Me," Lizzie asked, a look of shock on her face. "I was here with Mrs. Baker asking about a book! Mrs. Baker just told me that she had recently received a new stock of novels." The woman tossed a knowing look at the girl, but when she turned to the older woman, her face was innocent. Isn't that right, Mrs. Baker?"

The older lady nodded in assent.

Hermione stared at the women. "Wha...What?" she stuttered in confusion.

"Dear, are you feeling ill? Maybe you should go home for a bit," Mrs. Baker tutted, feeling Hermione's forehead. Hermione pushed the woman's hand off her face, giving Mrs. Baker a puzzled glance.

Lizzie nodded sympathetically, as she opened a door marked Exit and motioned Hermione to come "Hurry up, lass. Go through the door over there. I think that leads outside. Go on, scoot." She gently pushed the girl towards and out the door. " Now, go home. I'm sure your family needs to speak to you. Or if they don't they soon will." She winked at the girl, as the door shut.

The child stood motionless for a few seconds, trying to gather what had just happened. Strange people entered, waving pieces of wood Hermione contemplated. I was shoved into a closet and when I came back out, everyone was acting as if nothing had happened. And what does this Lizzie woman know about my family? Why would she say something like that?

Biting her lip, and looking around with uncertainty, Hermione started on her way home, too dazed to remember that she had left her books at the library. She was unaware that a small cat was following her with strange markings around the eyes.

The cat wandered after the girl until they reached the Granger resident - home of Hermione, Dr., and Dr. Granger, two dentists. To make its presence known, the cat mewed. Hermione turned and looked at the small creature. The animal blinked and looked at the girl innocently.

"Did that cat just wink at me?" Hermione muttered as she climbed up the stairs to her home, and opened the door wide The girl did not notice that the cat skittered past her, as she entered her home. "Blimey, I must be going plumb crazy. Mum! Dad! I'm home!"

"We're in here!" her mother's voice drifted from the living room. Hermione entered to see her parents relaxed on the sofas, reading newspapers. The girl stared at her parents. She had received her eyes from her father, but definitely gotten her bushy hair from her mother. "How was your trip to the library?"

The youngest member of the Granger family, sat down. Hermione sat down, contemplating what to say. "It was . . . bizarre. I was reading and finishing my homework, when I turned and looked out the window. There were owls. Tons of owls, sitting on that large tree! They were all carrying letters, like this --" she fished out the letter that she had picked up from her pocket and gave it to her mother -- " and just dropped them all over the library. Some people came in and one of them pushed me into another room. When I got out, Mrs. Baker and everyone else who was in the library acted as if nothing had happened!" She paused, another thought occurring. "I just realized something. The floor was cleaned too. I don't know how they were able to clean the ground so quickly."

Hermione looked at her parents, waiting for their reactions. Her mother was strangely silent, reading the letter she had given her and her father just looked at his daughter with mild concern. Mr. Granger was about to say something, but the cat, which no one had been aware of, entered the room, hopped onto a vacant chair, and settled itself stiffly, tail swishing. The Grangers looked at the cat and the cat stared back at them sternly.

"What in the world? When did we get a cat?" Hermione's father started, but then the cat mewed and began to morph into a person. "Sally . . . Sally," Mr. Granger whispered in surprise, not taking his eyes off the cat. "Sally!"

"What is it, Ted," his wife replied irritably. She looked up from the letter. "Ohhh."

The cat and the humans watched each other carefully. The woman stood, clad in a gray skirt and sweater, her hair tied up in a severe bun. Her face was not wrinkled, but looked older than it should for her countenance was serious, her form rigid. She propped her glasses further up her nose. "Before you do anything," the woman started, as she saw Mr. Granger tense up ready to defend his family, "let me introduce myself. My name is Minerva McGonagall. I am a professor at a school that would like your child to attend."

"Oh?" Hermione's mother asked in such a tone, it seemed like a cat turning into a woman was an everyday occurrence. Hermione and her father turned to look at her. She seemed rather calm about the whole thing. "Would you like to tell us the name of this school?"

Professor McGonagall threw the dentist a shrewd look over the glasses that were shaped exactly like the markings around her eyes when she was in cat form. "Hogwarts," she answered simply.

"Oh. Alright." Mrs. Granger looked back down at the paper she was holding and reread it.

"Excuse me?" Mr. Granger said stiffly after a few moments of awkward silence. He turned towards his wife, " Sally, I presume you are aware that a cat has turned into a human, right?"

"Actually," the professor interjected, "I turned into a cat. Not a cat turned into a human."

"Right. Right," Mr. Granger dismissed the gray haired woman with a quick wave of his hand. He looked again at his wife, hoping that his wife would provide some sort of comfort, by telling him he was dreaming, but was dismayed when he saw his spouse reading the letter, once again. He sputtered, "Sally! Put down that blasted paper and pay attention!"

Hermione, who had been sitting quietly the entire time, suddenly spoke up not to the woman, but to her mother. " So, that story you used to tell me at bedtime...that was true?"

The professor's strict face relaxed into a smile. " Ah! So you have an ancestry of the Dougles, then?" Mrs. Granger nodded, a smile upon her lips.

Mr. Granger frowned. "What story?"

"I never thought it was real. Just a story passed down through my family for generations."

"Then you didn't know then, Mum? So does this mean, I won't have to go to that school with that horrible Julia Sailbury, then? I don't think I could take another year of her stupidity --""

"What story?"

"Hermione Granger!"

"Sorry, Mum"

"What story?"

"You know, Mrs. Granger, my great - great - great grandmother went to school with the Lucille Dougles. They were in the same house, I believe," the professor said, her face melting into a smile, " Last time I talked to my grams, rest her soul, she told me Lucille was rather disappointed that there wasn't any other witches or wizards in her family. She would have been so proud. My great -great-great grandmother told me of how her friend told her that Lucille would tell her children about Hogwarts, so even if none of them were invited to become a student, they'd have some kind of connection to magic, by knowing magic exists. Even if it's during childhood only."

" So does getting this letter have something to do with what happened at the library, Professor?" Mrs. Granger asked with interest.

"Yes. The owls got a bit out of hand in that library, don't you think?" the professor gave a sigh, ad shook her head. "The Ministry sent a Magical Reversal Team to erase that memory from the minds of Muggles. They knew to be on the look out for a girl named Hermione Granger, so that was the reason why you weren't obliviated. That's a memory spell, Miss. Granger," she said before Hermione could ask what kind of spell obliviate was.

"What story?"

Doctor Granger turned towards her husband, and gave him a comforting pat on the arm. "Dear, do you remember a story I told you has been in my family for years? One that every member of my kin has heard or should have heard?"

Her spouse stared, and repeated what he had said before. " Sally," he said in a hysterical voice, for it was the only thing he could think of at the moment, " I presume you are aware that a cat has turned into a human, right?" His wife sighed, and he bristled. "Well, I hardly think that stories that you used to tell our daughter when she was five constitutes as important at a time like this!"

"Sit down, Ted," Mrs. Granger said and her husband sat. "The story consisted of a magical place. A place where people carried wands and could cast spells --"

"A place where dragons lived and people dressed in robes," Hermione piped up, memories of laying in bed as a young girl where her mother told her of a fantastic place, returning vividly.

"Right. In the story, there's a place where children at a certain age, could learn magic to become witches or wizards. The place, a school actually, would send letters out to children around the age of eleven that they found worthy of learning the skills of magic.

Mr. Granger stared at the people in the room. "Have I gone mad? You're talking about a story as if it really happened!"

His wife continued, ignoring her husband's outburst. "Some of the students already knew about the magical community while others did not. The ones who did not came from Muddle families." She turned to the Hogwarts educator, unsure if she had told the story perfectly.

"The term your looking for is Muggle, not Muddle. Other than that, you're absolutely right," Professor McGonagall spoke up. "Your daughter is one of the people from a long line of Muggle heritage that has been accepted to our school."

"Well, that's just brilliant!" Hermione said suddenly. "I wonder if I'm a bit ahead of the other Muggle born students? Since you've told me stories about Potions and Charms and Divination, I mean. Ooo..the school is hidden as well, isn't it? Muggles can't see it. They see some kind of danger sign, don't they?" Without waiting for an answer, she began ticking things that she needed, off on her fingers. "I'll need schoolbooks, and a wand of course. I want to make sure I'll be able to do everything right once I get there."

"Insane!" Mr. Granger said, burying his face in his hands. His wife smoother his hair. "Absolutely bonkers!"

"Hermione," the Hogwarts educationalist said sternly, "if you want to be a student at our boarding school, you must adhere to the rules strictly. The school is not only full of secrets and it is very vast. You could get lost very easily if you do not pay attention to rules. Students who do not heed warning usually get expelled, a thing that would hold you back in being successful in our world. I can tell you want to go and learn, so I wouldn't want anything unpleasant to happen to you." McGonagall paused. "Do you understand?"

The girl nodded, her features drawn in seriousness. "I won't get into any trouble," she vowed. "I'll work hard to get the best out of the education that has been offered to me."

"You're all serious about this, aren't you?" Mr. Granger incredulously said. The three females nodded, each with a serious look upon their face. The male dentist sighed. "Well, I guess you can go to this Hogwarts if you are all so sure . . ."

The teacher smiled as she took the abandoned Hogwarts letter and signed it with her narrow handwriting:

The Grangers have consented to let their daughter, Hermione, attend Hogwarts.

She took a handkerchief out of a pocket in her skirt and transfigured it into an owl. The Grangers gasped in amazement. Well, Mr. Granger gasped in despair. The professor gave the owl the parchment and threw the creature out an open window.

She turned to her young charge. "That's wonderful, dear. We shall settle a date to go to Diagon Alley. A place where students normally go to get school supplies," she added when she saw Mr. Granger's confused expression. "How does Saturday in three weeks sound?. Is that a good time for this trip?" The Grangers nodded. "Superb! Make sure you are ready to leave by eleven fifteen. Mr. Granger, would you be so kind to let me out?" Without waiting for an answer, the woman turned into a cat and mewed. Mr. Granger wiped his glasses on his shirt, sighed, and stood to open the door. The cat marched after him, head held high. The two remaining females looked at each other and burst out laughing, releasing the remaining tension that had lingered in the room.

~~~~~

At eleven fourteen, two weeks later on Saturday, the Grangers stood by the door, each peeking outside the curtain every other second. Hermione fiddled with her hair, Mr. Granger absent-mindedly shredded the newspaper in his lap, and Mrs. Granger could be pacing up and down the hall .

"So, what?" Hermione's father joked, "Is your teacher going to change us all into felines then?" He was silenced by a glare from his daughter and wife. "Sorry," he mumbled.

At eleven fifteen, on the dot, there was a brisk knock on their door. They rushed open and opened it to admit Professor McGonagall, who had worn her usual clothing -- emerald green robes.

"Come, now," she said, ushering the family down the stairs and unto a street, "the Headmaster was able to secure a Ministry Car for us to use to get to our destined location. The Ministry is equivalent to Muggle national governments." She entered a large dark green car where the front seat was taken by a wizard dressed in emerald velvet. Hermione and her family quickly slid into the seat next to the Hogwarts professor. "Straight to Diagon Alley," the teacher commanded the driver, and off they went.

~~~

"Marvelous . . . absolutely marvelous," Mrs. Granger sighed when they entered Diagon Alley. The amount of people walking around the streets shocked the Grangers. Well, actually, just Mr. Granger. The conversations that they heard going to and leaving Gringotts, the wizarding bank to exchange money, was brilliant. The people they saw . . .

"Did you hear about the Nimbus 2000? It's the latest broom!"

"Boys, I'm warning you! Send home another toilet seat, and I'll bring you right home!"

"Have you heard the joke about the Minister of Magic and Filch?"

McGonagall turned towards Hermione. "Is there a certain shop that you would like to enter?"

Hermione, remembering her promise to behave and study hard, quickly said: "The bookstore"

"Flourish and Blotts it is, then." The group marched into the store, pouring over the books needed for school and random books that they passed by. Hermione sighed happily. As long as she was surrounded by books, she was content.

"Sally, are you sure we should let our daughter, may I remind you, our only child, go to a place where they read things called Death Omens?"

"Ooo. . . look! How To Charm Your Hair in Any Situation: Never Have a Bad Hair Day Again! Ted, don't look at me that way! It's for Hermione, and I'll just . . . borrow it every now and then . . ."

After they had gotten through stores like Ollivanders, Magical Menagerie, and others the group found their way to the Ministry Cars and their way to the Granger residence. Before the Grangers left the automobile, McGonagall stopped them.

"It works only on the first day of school and the last. As long as you have these passes, you will be able to get on to the platform," the professor said as she exchanged goodbyes with the Grangers and gave them pass cards to get on the barrier at Platform 9 and ¾. "See you September 1st!"

"Busy day," Hermione said, stretching on a chair, examining her new wand and waving it tiredly.

"Quite," her parents agreed and they promptly lurched upon the sofa and fell asleep.

~~~~~

Hermione was extremely nervous. When Hermione was nervous she talked - a lot, as she was on September 1st after her family had made it on to the platform.

"Mum and Dad," she said as she clung to her mother's jacket. "You do know how happy and grateful I am that you are letting me go to Hogwarts right?" When her parents gave her a fond look and nodded, Hermione grinned and hugged them. As she pulled away, the train's whistle blew loudly, signaling that the locomotive was about to pull out of the station. Hermione quickly kissed her parents good-bye and entered the train, and smoothed down her robes in an effort to settle her trembling fingers.

The first compartment she entered, contained a pudgy boy petting a toad. "Oh, hullo. This is Trevor," the boy said, pointing at the amphibian. "I'm Neville Longbottom." Neville stuck out a hand and Hermione shook it.

"Hermione Granger. Pleased to make your acquaintance." The two spent the train ride talking to each other. Or rather, Neville listened to Hermione repeat all she remembered from the numerous books she had bought. There was a knock on the door and Hermione opened it, to admit the Snack Lady. She and Neville bought a few things, and Hermione went back to lecturing. "Then, in Hogwarts, A History, there was a chapter all about Dumbledore. The Headmaster! Can you imagine? I'd love for someone to write a book about --"

"Oh-oh. This isn't good," Neville sighed with disbelief.

"What's wrong, Neville?"

"Trevor, my toad, he's disappeared, again. I think he hopped out when you opened the door. Will you help me look for him?" He gave the girl a pleading look. Hermione nodded in assent and the two left the compartment. At first, they split up and knocked on various doors, but none of the inhabitants had seen Trevor. They joined up in front of another compartment. Hermione opened the door.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said in what she believed to a voice with authority to the two boys occupying the compartment -- a red head and a boy with dark hair.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said a red haired boy, but Hermione wasn't listening, as she had just spotted the red head's wand.

"Oh, your doing magic, let's see then," she said, sitting down.

The redhead looked taken aback. "Er-alright. Sunshine Daiseies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

Hermione stared at the rat which the red head had targeted. "Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice, and it's all worked for me." She ignored the fact that the magic she had preformed took place in Ollivanders when she was trying to find a wand, but the wrong wands knocked things down or broke something. She continued, quickly. "Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learnt all of our set books off by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger by the way, who are you?'

"I'm Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter," the dark haired boy said, speaking for the first time since Hermione had entered.

Hermione looked at Harry. "Are you really? I know all about you, of course - I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dar Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?" Harry said in a dazed voice.

Hermione's first impression of Harry was that the boy was rather stupid. "Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me. Do either of you know what house you will be in? I've been asking around and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad...Anyway we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon.

She stood up and walked out of the compartment, taking Neville by the arm, and ignoring his moans about Trevor. The train chugged to a stop, and they had not walked far, before Hermione realized something. Turning back to the compartment, she opened the door and looked at Ron. "You've got a little spot on your nose. Did you know?"

There,

she thought as she and Neville left the train, at least I helped someone out. I doubt he'd want to be walking around school his first day with some kind of mark on his face!

The first person they saw when their feet touched ground, was a tall man with a messy black beard. "Firs' years! Over here! All right there Harry? C'mon follow me - any more firs' years? Mind you step now! Firs' years follow me!"

"Who is that," Hermione asked an older student who was walking past.

"Oh, him? That's Hagrid," the student replied. "He's the groundkeeper. You first years have to follow him to get to Hogwarts." The student walked on.

"Well, come on, Neville," Hermione whispered, and the boy nodded, still unhappy about his toad. The students all went down a dark path, stumbling.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," called Hagrid over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here. No more'n four to a boat!" called Hagrid pointing to the fleet. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville all got into a boat together. "Everyone in? Right then - FORWARD!"

The boats wafted across the lake, and the students oohed and ahhed in awe of the school. When they reached shore, Hagrid glanced at the ground and then at Neville. "Oy, you there! Is this your toad?"

"Trevor!" Yelled Neville.

Hagrid smiled and knocked on the door three times.

~~~~~

Professor McGonagall stood in front of the students, calling out names of the student whose turn it was to be sorted.

"Abbot, Hannah"

Hufflepuff!

"I'm not nervous. I'm not nervous" Hermione chanted to herself, trying to convince herself, and failing miserably.

"Boot, Terry"

Ravenclaw!

"I know all about the Sorting. I read about it Hogwarts, A History!" she muttered.

"That girl's mental," she heard someone whisper from behind her. "I'm telling you! Absolutely mental!"

"Finnegan, Seamus"

Gryffindor!

"Granger, Hermione" The aforementioned girl ran up eagerly and jammed the hat upon her head.

A voice filled her head. "Well, well. You seem to be one for learning. That makes you definite Ravenclaw material."

Alright, Hermione thought. That's a good house, I wouldn't mind being in there

"Well, wait a minute," the hat chuckled. "I wasn't done yet. Books and cleverness are needed things, I agree, but don't you think that bravery and friendship are important too? I see that you think more about your heart than your brain, dear girl. I do believe you will do well in GRYFFINDOR!"

The Hat was lifted from her head, and a smiling Hermione made her way to the table that clapped the loudest. The Sorting continued until the last student, Blaise, Zabini, was sorted into Slytherin.

After dinner, Hermione was led to her dorm by a Gryffindor prefect by the name of Vanessa Syracuse. She shared the dorm with two other girls, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown who spent the evening giggling to each other about one thing or another. Before Hermione fell asleep, her last thought was:

"Even though I don't you, I hope you're proud of me, Great-great-great Grandma Lucille."