Changing the Wizarding World

Chapter One

___* Hi everyone! Welcome to my story. I just wanted to let you know I am writing this book on 'Archive of Our Own' and is under the name Luckyluna and has the same title, but I plan on changing this one up a little bit compared to it. I hope you enjoy <3 *____

My name is Hermione Granger and I am a witch. I go to Hogwarts, a school for people like me to develop our magic until we are ready to graduate and enter the Wizarding world.

The only problem is that I never knew what I was until I turned eleven and received my hogwarts acceptance letter. I am what 'my kind' distastefully calls a mudblood. A mudblood is the degrading term used by people born from a pure Wizarding family to people like me, who have muggle, or non-magical parents. They believe us to be incompetent and below them. I am used to being called names though, even before I was aware I was even more of a freak than I thought. I've always loved knowledge. To know things is to have power. A shield. Something to hide behind and protect me from the evil world that lives behind my bedroom door. From my parents, who've never wanted a child like me. From my peers, who tease me about my looks and about my smarts. From myself, who knows that I'm not worth anything. That my teeth are too large, my hair is too crazy, that I'm too smart, that I'm not girly enough, not skinny enough. All I've ever wanted was to be loved by others. I want to know that someone thinks that I'm worth loving, because if someone else can love me, then surely, maybe, I can love myself too.

But as I stare into the mirror of my dorm room, I know that this will never happen. No boy or girl has ever looked at me in a way that speaks of pleasant emotions. No one could love somebody like me. Enough about that though. I suppose I should tell you about my school life.

I was sorted into Gryffindor house, how though I will never understand. They are the house of the brave, the courageous, the risk takers. All of which I am not. I was hoping to be sorted into Ravenclaw, a house where I thought I'd be able to fit in, to find friends, find acceptance. They are the house of knowledge, the truth seekers, the wise. But once again fate was against me. All of that took place in first year. I am currently unpacking for the first day of sixth year. You would think that after all this time I would have made friends, but no. I tried making friends with this Weasley fellow named Ronald, but that was also never meant to be. He was jealous of the spells I knew, ate more than I thought was possible and in a horridly disgusting manner, and he was far too reckless and hot tempered. His favourite hobby is to simply tease me now. Shoving me into lockers, messing up my potions, calling me names and making sure no one wants to be around me is just a few of the things he does on a regular basis. His biggest dream is to also meet the boy they call 'The chosen one', or Harry Potter. Ron seems to think he is destined to be his best friend or something. Harry Potter is the saviour of the Wizarding world, due to the fact that he defeated Voldemort when he was just a baby. The only problem is that no one has seen him for years and all we know is that he has a lightning bolt scar on his forehead, his dad's looks and his mom's eyes. Some rumors say that he is in hiding and plotting revenge for his lost parents , others that he was kidnapped and has no memory of who he is, and others that he died from abuse from his muggle guardians.

I sigh and shake my head against the thoughts running through my head. There is five minutes left until the sorting for the first years and new students and I don't want to be late. As I hurry down the stairs I bump into a solid and warm mass. As I fall to the ground and groan in pain I hear a similar groan coming from the wall in front of me. I shoot open my eyes to see the groaning wall, but my cheeks colour as I realize it's a person. A very attractive person. As a mop of ink lifts it's head, dazzling emerald eyes peek out from beneath the fringe at me. He chuckles in pain and probably amusement at how frazzled I must look. He slowly stands up to tower over me and offers me a calloused hand from beneath his dragonskin jacket. As I stand up I glare at his neck, already upset at how much taller he is than me.