Hermione Granger and the Displaced Sorting

Chapter 3

Hermione Granger and the Displaced Sorting

Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter 3

A/N: This is going to be a running author's note, but if you read on fanfiction.net and enjoy this story, make sure to have my username saved in case my account is deleted. I post on AO3 and Wattpad as well under the same name.

I'm not sure how massive this story is going to be, but I'm thinking massive. Already I've had to split the 2nd chapter in my outline into two chunks, and, like the first book, I've got a thirty-chapter rough outline that I already knew was wishful thinking. My wish list for this book is a mile long, so hold onto your seats, kiddos. It's going to be a wild ride.

August 18th, 1992

When McGonagall returned from handing out the tests to the other professors, her parents and Flitwick had finished their tea and were all laughing as Hermione used her wand to make the saucers all dance around.

Hermione's only warning was a punctuating gasp that had her concentration breaking, along with the porcelain china. "Oh no! I'm so sorry!"

"Not at all, Miss Granger," Flitwick reassured, waving his wand and casting a squeaky reparo charm. "McGonagall, welcome back. We figured we would get the charms portion of the practical out of the way, and as you can see, it might not be a dancing pineapple, but it certainly demonstrated strong proficiency."

McGonagall's lips hung open, not much, but enough to make it obvious that she was shook by what she'd seen. "Miss Granger, did you just control three separate saucers together?"

"Um, yes?"

Finally, McGonagall's shock eased away in time with her brow raising. "I think we'll move onto the transfiguration portion then. And I will start by telling you that your teacups are actually transfigured rats."

Her dad spluttered the sip he took of his refill before staring down at the delicate cup. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

McGonagall smiled in earnest this time before pulling her wand and approaching. "You will be reversing the transfigurationyou're your exam. The spell is reparifarge." She demonstrated as she tapped the cup with careful, almost exaggerated wand movements, especially considering how Flitwick had been teaching her the initial full movements, and then working with her to shave them down to the fastest, most economical swishes and flicks as possible. Someone with as much experience as a master in her field wouldn't need such heavy-handed wand-waving.

Hermione straightened. She was teaching her, seeing if she could pick it up.

"That's a second-year spell," Flitwick protested.

"Is it, Filius?" McGonagall asked, casting him a heavy, loaded stare. "Are you saying you don't already know that she'll somehow be able to perform any first-year transfiguration I could pose to her despite not having used a wand until today?"

While they were having their silent discussion, Hermione was trying to mimic the moves while mouthing the word.

It would've been much more helpful to switch to her metavision so she could study the direction of magic, the patterns, the exact hue of the energy. She'd picked up that habit this summer, cheating with her visiomagus abilities to learn faster, and she'd become too reliant on it. Switching vision to suddenly have blindingly white glowing eyes in the middle of class wasn't something she'd be able to do.

"Can—" Hermione trailed off, remembering they'd been having a discussion of looks. She glanced at them, but luckily, McGonagall didn't seem to be upset with her. "Sorry, professor."