A Turn for the Dark(er)

Hermione Granger, Dark Lord

       So this idea was originally supposed to be a longer story, and I might end up making a multi chapter version of it, but if I do, it won't be for a long, long (long, long, long) while. Anyway, it's unedited (and basically word vomit), but still sort of decent grammar.
-T.A.L.A. 

       Hermione Granger was a brilliant young witch, and you couldn't find a better student. These were facts in Hogwarts and you'd be hard pressed to find a student or teacher there who would readily deny it.  Yet still she found herself unable to do anything as she stood not even a meter away as several Gryffindors- their own house, and supposedly where all of the noble and brave went- cast a spell that tripped her best (and quite frankly one of her two only) friend down the moving stairs while his back was turned and arms filled with books. She was forced to watch as he fell still turning to see what hit him, wide green eyes open with horror and, to add to her own growing terror, realization... and hopeless acceptance. That day, Hermione Granger witnessed death first hand for her very first time and lost her two friends in the same moment. The same moment as a sharp crunch sounded and Harry James Potter lay with wide eyes... and a broken neck. The boy who lived, lived no more.

     The culprits fled none the wiser she had seen it all. Speechless for one of the very few times in her life, so did she. It had not been a very good year for Harry, she had known that; quidditch was cancelled (she personally hadn't seen why that was a big deal, but she still knew flying was one of his few passions) and then his name was drawn from that blasted goblet and everyone abandoned him. Hermione tried to stay by his side as well as she could, but she couldn't find it in herself to leave Ron either. Knowing what she did know- seeing what she had- she regretted that choice.

      It had been both an awkward and solemn couple of months after the incident had happened as everyone tried to pretend they had been on his side all along or blamed others for the spell, not even Draco Malfoy dared mock him as it would in no time lead to fingers pointing in his direction. Hermione couldn't stand it, so she did the one thing she had done all her life when lost or alone. She surrounded herself with books and she read.

      It had been an accident the first time. She had, with some effort, gotten from Professor Moody a blank pass to the restriction section and it was a chance she wouldn't pass up and didn't, since she spent all day in there, but in her rush to decide which books to checkout she had chosen five at random and before hurrying to make it to her dorm. One had been an introduction to the dark arts. That was all it took to get her hooked. After all, she had always been weak to the promise of knowledge.

It spiraled from there and, surprisingly, she was able to weasel a few more passes from Moody- until she figured out how to get around the wards that is. She wasn't the smartest witch in their year for nothing. The rest, as they say, is history as Hermione Granger, drowning in grief and betrayal, felt a new rage kindle within her. They had looked upon him as a savior, and yet treated him like trash. They scorned knowledge and hid or destroyed any that went against them. Stereotypes and cruelty ran rampant and everywhere she looked she saw more issues. More wrongs that, perhaps with a bit more work, she could fix. Potential situations like Harry's that she could prevent from ever happening. If, that is, she could amass the power.

Before the Triwizard Tournament ended she had dug through ever book she could find a use for and more, keeping detailed notes at the ready for if her near photographic memory failed her. Summer was spent with near daily visits to Diagon and Knockturn selling off enchanted or smuggled items so that she could access more of the information she craved. The trace had been the first thing she had taken care of. She would not listen to rules anymore, not after they had betrayed her so cruelly. Where were the rules when she had needed them?  Why should she have to follow them if they were so bloody useless when put to the test!? No, she would rewrite the useless rules. She would reform the world from inside out. Within the next year she spent every ounce of free time training against the dummies in the room of requirement- it was amazing how few people ever stopped to consider just how much the house elves knew. They would be useful in her endeavors and for that they would be rewarded.