For the next nine months, I enjoyed life, studying a bit here and there in between. Say what you will, but homeschooling saves a lot of time—especially when everyone thinks you're eleven, but you're actually twenty-seven. After quickly getting through the lessons, I studied magical theory, laws, etiquette, and of course, spells themselves. I inherited a phenomenal memory from Hermione, so it wasn't much of a strain. Practice, however, was more difficult without a wand. Telekinesis came easily—by May, I could control three small objects at once or even keep my bed, which was heavy, floating in the air for a while. I could cool things down, heat them up, or set them on fire. But turning a matchstick into a needle, repairing something broken, enlarging or shrinking objects—that didn't work. I probably needed a wand for that.
Sometimes, I managed to heal small cuts or bruises by laying on hands. But that ability was unstable, and it was hard to train without intentionally injuring myself or others—which I wasn't about to do. As I discovered, if a tingling sensation appeared in my fingertips when I wanted to heal a wound, it would work. If not—nothing happened, better luck next time.
I had the idea of signing up for karate or judo, since the magical world is "dark and full of terrors," but I figured that a few months wouldn't be enough to teach me anything truly useful. And push-ups on my knuckles or running—I could do those on my own. To be completely honest, I was just too lazy. I've always been lazy—I honestly have no idea where some people get the willpower to hustle and self-improve 24/7. So instead of karate, I dutifully tried to do morning exercises and went running two or three times a week. I wasn't aiming for any grand achievements.
I didn't manage to make much progress in rune studies. The eye-averting chain turned out great, though, since it was fully provided in the textbook. People didn't bump into me on the street, but they also didn't pay me the slightest attention—even when I pretended to have a loud, dramatic fit. The main test was conducted on a donut vendor. I stood by the counter for fifteen minutes, staring him straight in the eyes. Zero reaction. I reached for a donut and started eating it right in front of him. Still nothing. I slowly walked away with the donut in hand—no response. Success! I stole a donut. Behold: the simplest path to riches. Just kidding, of course. Once I finished chewing, I went back and left money for what I'd eaten on the counter. When I stepped five paces away, the vendor finally noticed the cash.
The waterproofing runes worked too. But the warmth and cooling runes turned my clothes into either a sauna or a freezer. Trying to add a weakening rune to the chain completely canceled the effect. So yeah, it wasn't as simple as I thought—turns out, I'm not the genius I imagined myself to be. Still, theoretically, the "sauna" rune chain could be used as a portable heater if applied to the outside of an object. And the "freezer" one could be placed on a shelf and used instead of a fridge. The idea of upgrading my clothes will have to wait for better times.
Testing the effectiveness of occlumency shields without a legilimens was impossible. But I faithfully meditated before bed. Well—when I remembered to.
In June, the whole family went to Egypt. I got a deep tan and swam enough to last me a year. The pyramids were impressive, but you're not allowed to climb them or go inside. That's why I liked Karnak more. My parents gave in to the atmosphere and bought tons of cute, useless trinkets, including a hookah and some tobacco for it. I bet they'll never actually smoke it.
Today is July 28th, a day off, and the whole family is home. My parents are leisurely enjoying a Sunday breakfast, and I'm lazily strumming the guitar I begged for as a New Year's gift. In my past life I couldn't sing to save my life, but now, with these parents—I have to meet expectations. This little idyll is interrupted by the doorbell.
"I'll get it!" I shout toward the kitchen and stomp off to the hallway. I open the door on the chain. On the doorstep stands a stern-looking middle-aged woman in a closed, old-fashioned dress. Looks like she's here for me.
"Yes, ma'am, how can I help you?"
"Miss Granger? My name is Professor McGonagall. I've come to inform you that you have been offered a place at Hogwarts School. Are your parents home?"
"Yes, ma'am." I open the door wider. "Please, come in."
Professor McGonagall quickly brought my parents up to speed. In response to their smiles and jokes, she turned into a cat and back, transformed the coffee table into a pig, and levitated my guitar from the sofa into the corner—as if she were performing for a school assembly. But she picked the wrong audience—my parents weren't that easy to impress. Once they'd somewhat recovered from the shock, Dad started bombarding the professor with questions about the curriculum, living conditions, diplomas, and future prospects. Mom nodded along, expressing concern. McGonagall's lips grew thinner and thinner.
"Miss Granger, would you mind bringing me a glass of water?"
Something feels off, but I can't exactly refuse. As I return with the glass, I hear:
"Alright, Hermione, hurry and get ready—you're going shopping with the professor."
"Dad, did you already sign the contract or something?" — just a minute ago, nobody had even mentioned agreeing.
"Hermione, stop wasting people's time," Dad says sharply. "The professor doesn't have all day for your tantrums."
Something's wrong with my parents. Their eyes are unfocused. Riiight... I get it now.
"Yes, Dad," I reply evenly. "Professor McGonagall, give me five minutes to change."
In my room, I pace furiously back and forth, trying to calm myself down. What a bitch… She could've saved the coercion for an emergency. But no, she can't be bothered to answer questions—she's too busy. I change quickly, grab my bag and notebook, take a deep breath. That's it. Time to go. I head downstairs and see my father handing money to McGonagall.
"Miss Granger, prepare yourself, we're about to Apparate," she says, gripping my arm tightly.
Uuurrgh—my stomach lurches up to my throat, and a second later, my heels slam into the pavement. Thanks for the warning, Professor! I'm bent over, hands on my knees, trying to force my stomach back into its rightful place through sheer willpower. That was brutal.
"Apparition is always unpleasant the first time, but you'll get used to it," McGonagall says briskly. She's a tough old bird—sympathy's for the weak.
"Professor, did you put a spell on my dad? I saw it—he wasn't going to agree, at least not that fast." I know I'm pushing it. But I need to hear her say it.
"You must understand, Muggles often don't want to let their children go to a school of magic, and sometimes there's just no other way." Right. Because giving Muggles the freedom to choose would be too much to ask.
"Yes, ma'am, I understand," I say quietly, eyes downcast. I understand that you're an old bigot who doesn't consider non-magical people your equals. But I can't take you on right now. So smile and wave. "But it's not dangerous, right? Nothing bad will happen to my dad?"
"Don't be silly, Miss Granger, just a simple Confundus," McGonagall says, lips pressed thin. "We must be going."
Is a Muggle-born first-year supposed to know what a Confundus is? Delighted, dear editors. Whatever. Asking questions here is useless.
We rushed through Diagon Alley at a brisk pace. Exchanged money with the goblins, did the shopping by the list. I behaved myself, didn't ask unnecessary questions, didn't try to buy anything extra—plenty of time for that later. Now I officially have a wand, and I can wander around as much as I like. Mine's also got a dragon heartstring core, just like Hermione's in canon. Can't remember what kind of wood hers had—but mine is vine.
Finally, the professor handed me a ticket, explained how to get to the platform, and Apparated me back home. My stomach made another lurch toward my throat.
"We'll see each other at school next time. Goodbye, Miss Granger," McGonagall said with a smile.
"Goodbye, Professor." And she Apparated on the spot. "Mum, Dad, I'm home!"
***
Finally tried wand magic. Woohoo! My first needle. I struggled so much with that spell without a wand, and with a wand—it worked on the first try. Now we wait for a letter.
It never came. How delightful. Well, now I'm going to have some fun. But nothing suspicious, of course—they can still check the wand.
Today is July 31st—Harry's birthday. I was tempted to sneak off to Diagon Alley and catch a glimpse of the hero, but I resisted. Reminded myself that I promised not to get involved unless absolutely necessary. There'll be time to satisfy my curiosity later.
***
A week has passed—I think my parents have recovered from the Confundus by now.
"Dad, what made you agree to the professor's terms so quickly?" I cautiously test the waters.
"I honestly don't know, Mio," Dad says, looking puzzled. "I didn't even get a chance to ask that McGonagall woman a ton of things. In fact, as I recall, I was leaning toward saying no. And then suddenly I started thinking it was all settled—you were going. I have no idea what came over me."
"Do you think maybe the professor enchanted you?"
"Could she have?" He looks surprised.
"I hate to break it to you, but when we went to buy school supplies, I also picked up a collection of magical laws," — technically, I bought it a year ago, but that's irrelevant — "There's a lot of interesting stuff in there. I'll bring it to you—you can take a look yourself."
Book-Hermione would have kept everything secret, like many kids who hide scary truths from their parents, thinking they just wouldn't understand. But forewarned is forearmed. I don't want to leave them completely defenseless. Besides, one day we might have to leave. We. I'm not planning to fight on the front lines. They'll believe in real danger more easily if they've been in the know from the start.
Dad disappeared with the book for quite a while. A bottle of whiskey joined him after some time. Then Mom came in, and a couple of hours later, Dad went out for a second bottle. They're really drowning the stress. I'll go check on them.
It's the first time I've seen Dad look so lost.
"For killing a wizard—it's Azkaban. But for killing a Muggle? A fifty-galleon fine at worst, and usually just a warning. How can this be, sweetheart?"
"That's just how it is," I give a crooked smile. "Wizards don't even consider non-magical people human. And I'm the daughter of non-humans—a Mudblood. A third-class citizen. The magical world is a very scary fairy tale, Dad. And if we refuse, they'll erase all our memories."
"You've changed so much, Hermione. I feel like I'm talking to a grown woman, not my little girl," Dad says sadly. I silently sit closer and hug him.
Over the past year, Mr. and Mrs. Granger have become the closest people to me, and I've slowly come to see them as my real mom and dad. Now I have four parents instead of two. It's okay. We'll get through this.
***
At a family meeting, it was decided that I would continue my regular school studies remotely. Subjects like math, English, geography, and other essentials for a standard school diploma aren't taught at "the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry." But after Hogwarts, I'll need a proper education certificate — I have no plans to stay in the magical world.
This time, Dad and I went to Diagon Alley together. First, we bought an owl to carry my school assignments. We also got a pair of linked parchments—parcels can't be sent that way, but it's much more convenient for chatting. At first, we wanted to get two-way mirrors, but they don't work for non-magical people. For them, they're just mirrors.
We asked if there were any anti-Confundus amulets—turns out, there aren't. And of course: "Study Occlumency, young man." Trying to get a portkey to a safe place in case of an attack didn't work out either. You either have to make one yourself or register it with the Ministry.
Dad agreed to add an extra five hundred pounds, and I opened an account at Gringotts. I dropped some blood on the key and the wallet linked to the account — now no one can steal them, and if I lose them, I just need to picture them in my hand and they'll appear.
We also bought me another simple bag with an Undetectable Extension Charm and Weight-Reduction Charm to use for classes. Dad bought himself a leather briefcase with the same spells and picked out a pretty handbag for Mom. We left a small fortune in the luggage shop.
At the apothecary, the clothing store, and the bookstore, we grabbed catalogs so we could order things remotely. And to wrap up our trip, we bought a giant ice cream cake from Florean Fortescue's and asked them to place it under a stasis charm.
After our successful shopping spree, Dad calmed down a bit about my future, got a bit more impressed with the perks magic has to offer, and went off to reassure Mom.
And Fortescue's ice cream really is incredible.
***
I spent the last two weeks of August getting ready. Along with essentials and things we bought in Diagon Alley, I packed plenty of warm clothes, regular notebooks, pens, markers, textbooks for regular school, a pile of leisure reading, and shoved in my guitar—God, I love my bottomless backpack! I took an old music player, even though it's risky. Electronics supposedly don't work at Hogwarts, but I have to test it myself. If it breaks, no big deal.
I packed my favorite mug, a year's supply of assorted bagged tea, and a year's supply of sweets. The latter had to be bought behind my parents' backs — they're staunch anti-sugar advocates and constantly worry about my teeth. Honestly, it's easier to list what I didn't bring. It's good to be the daughter of a well-off family.
As a final touch, I stuffed in a wool blanket, a pillow, and a sewing kit—just in case.
I also had the idea to build something like a Faraday cage. I took a small box with a tight-fitting lid, carefully wrapped it in foil on the outside and lined it with thin rubber on the inside. I tested it—wand spells don't go through, but telekinesis works fine inside the closed box as long as you clearly imagine the object you're trying to affect. Yeah, I know — it's not exactly clear. It's unlikely things are this simple, and this little trick will shield electronic devices from Hogwarts' magical interference. Otherwise, someone would've figured it out already. But hey, a girl can dream. I threw in a few extra rolls of foil. It doesn't hurt to have a stash, especially if the stash is under a weight-reducing charm.
Well, you could say I've had a year-long vacation.
And tomorrow — school starts.