Author's Note: I found a prompt on tumblr and rolled with it; I don't own it. My amazing roommate is helping me edit and I couldn't thank her enough, Jackie S. Also, I am obviously not the queen JKR, bless her soul, so I don't own HP or any characters or any of that jazz. First fic, leave me something to improve onn or what you liked about it or what you'd want to see happen or whatevvvvs. Kthanks."

Here's the prompt I worked off of (again, I don't own the prompt, thx to whoever does):

A modern AU where Hermione never got her letter.

Hermione Granger had always been odd. Terribly brilliant and scathingly ruthless, her perception of the world had made her the object of schoolyard jests, her peers doling out punishment by virtue of her strangeness, children terrifying in the dangerous manner only children are capable of. And so alone in her room, she made her dolls move by her will. That was years ago.

Now all grown up, she becomes, almost obsessively, determined to prove that more than will, magic reinforced her spine. And by God, if there's a whole different world out there, Hermione will be part of it - even if she has to claw her way in.

So when a pretty boy shows up, all sharp lines, and light hair, and the snark of old rich, she is drawn to him and the mark on his arm. He is well-versed in manipulation and the sorcery of the dark, and when he offers her a hand to beckon her come, she takes it."

The campus was overtly crowded, only owing to the fact it was freshman orientation, a rush of young, ripe minds scattered and chatting with vigor all around. They seemed to be everywhere; pooled in great numbers around the old oaks in the open courtyard, sitting in the sun anxious on the stone fountain, hanging on the railings that laced the granite steps up to the Roost, a creative name given to the large castle-like structure that held plenty of large classrooms and lecture halls. The rest of the academic buildings flowed off the Roost in smaller turrets, making it look more like something out of a fairytale than a university campus.

But Hermione had more on her mind than annoying freshman thinking university would be all its hyped up to be. They won't even realize how cracked up this place is until it's too late, she thought to herself as she studied the scene below her from one of the Roost's upper classrooms. What a bloody shame, she gazed on and saw a red headed girl smiling at her blonde friend, seemingly without a care about studying, money, or her future. The girl looked normal enough; with a small bag next to her feet she stretched out on the fountain and put her head back into the sun. Her red hair shone bright and the blonde beside her continued talking with a lofty gaze at her friend, pointing to the other girl's hair occasionally as if some bug wouldn't leave her alone.

The more Hermione watched the more she thought about her past; it would be so easy to forget the feeling of never belonging, if only she could feel like she belonged anywhere. As she stared at the girls, talking away without a care in the world, she thought about her own freshman orientation, and how much she was mistaken into thinking university schooling might be a little better than the disgusting experiences of high school. She had never fit in, too intelligent for the likings of even the more pristine teachers at her school, and it started to bother her classmates too. She grew a thick skin quick and with it came a temper to match as her parents couldn't understand why she couldn't let go of her desperate need to be somewhere else, something different and new and better. Maybe it had to do with the fact there was definitely something more than just her soul coursing through those veins of hers; she knew it had to be something more, something magical. The first time she had made anything happen was in first grade, when a stout, spoilt boy called Dudley had made her cry by pulling her braid and calling her stupid. She had hid behind the slide on the playground and wished and wished and wished that he would just be quiet, he was always so mean, when all of sudden she heard his loud whiny voice stop short. When she looked around the side of the slide, he was clutching his face, flushed red and huge, his throat swollen shut as he could not force his mouth open no matter what he did.

He waved his hands wildly again and again, but his friends did nothing as he eventually began to cry. He ran to the teachers for help. He didn't come back for a long time, Hermione remembered, and no one seemed to tell the story the same after he got back. They claimed it was a bee sting, he had swallowed it. He had always been allergic, nothing more, or a problem with his teeth growing in, but Hermione felt like it was something different, something bigger. When she told her parents they laughed, said her imagination was marvelous for her age, and asked if she were writing this story up for her teacher.

That night, lying in bed Hermione couldn't sleep; she sat up in bed staring at her stuffed cat. She stared and stared for some time; it was late and cold, but she didn't care, she sat up anyway, and as she willed her mind a little further, her skin began to tingle as the cat changed color slowly before her eyes from orange to purple. She fell asleep smiling that night, clutching a purple cat, and feeling the residual little bits of magic gently flow out of her and into her dreams.

In the morning, her mother questioned her as to where she got the purple cat, when they had not bought two and they knew orange to be her favorite. When she tried to explain her mother didn't understand; it didn't make sense that her daughter could think something into changing color. It wasn't natural, remarkable yes, but definitely not natural. And so it definitely was false. They didn't speak of it again, and that night Hermione changed it back to orange. She learned then that her secret was not something all people believed in, and her parents definitely did not understand. It was not something they had learned from young like she, and so it was not easy to accept. She continued to use her magic through her childhood, to get back at bullies sometimes, but mostly when playing on her own. She chanced to show her best friend Margaret in the fourth grade, and Margaret screamed when Hermione had floated the teacups over to them from the top of the dresser. They fell abruptly and shattered to the floor, when Margaret's mom came in, and scolded them for climbing the dresser to get the cups. Hermione never really got to play with Margaret again after that.

By high school, she realized no one else should be told, or cared to know anyway, so why tell anyone? Why even try to convince them there was something unique about her when everyone else would just dismiss it? She got into her studies, determined to find something else she could be good at; academia proved that and more for her despite her cynical look on things. She became top of her class, she never missed a topic or assignment, could answer almost any question right. This made her a few friends here and there, and she wasn't completely isolated like grade school. Her wit was immeasurable, but she tried not to gloat with it or she would fit in even less.

But being a straight A student didn't make her completely happy, she still felt out of place. And because of that she became a bit of a rebel, getting in with some less than A plus students. She did wild things, drank a bit, snuck out, hooked up with a few guys if only to be able to blow off some steam. But they didn't judge her like everyone else; they didn't find her AS odd as everyone else. So she liked them enough, they were a great distraction. She learned to use her magic only in convenience, when no one was around, or to help her out when boys were assholes to her. Like Scott, who had cheated on her at the homecoming dance; he got his car tires removed in return. And Eric, who showed her nudes to half the soccer team before he magically found his phone and laptop were fried to pieces. It was fun to do things like that, and, in those moments she really felt alive. But there was no one that could relate to, and that only reminded her anger to flare. No one knew the truth, and that hurt.

Upon graduation she decided it wasn't worth it to fight her parents about the top universities she could attend and instead picked one far away to avoid their constant nagging. She really had wanted to travel, to leave home to find some semblance of the world she thought was hidden out there somewhere. A place where she could belong and actually be a real person seemed almost tangible, if only she could get out and explore it. Maybe there was magic somewhere, and maybe, just maybe, she could find it.

University had proved a bit of a bust, she knew it after a semester there of boring work and recycled concepts in all her classes. It was almost easy for her to get As and now, as a junior, she had hoped she would have caught a glimpse of something more by now. She had hoped that since university would cluster a bunch of random people all together, that maybe some magic would show up somehow.

She had managed to fit in a little better here, but it wasn't one hundred percent, it was more like sixty or seventy. And that wasn't how she wanted to live her life, she wanted more than the pessimist's view out of a glass half empty. On the plus side, the school had its perks, parties galore and boys to fool around with, free shit given away in the quad and easy grades for a little less than the normal outlandish price of university, especially thanks to that scholarship money. She had tried having fun, and did manage to; she had had many fun drunken nights and more than a couple hook ups, a little dab into some illegal things, and maybe she did sleep with that professor, but he was only eight years older, that's not bad right, or was it nine? She didn't remember; she just knew she had done a few things to try and forget, why not be reckless and attempt to find something in this world to make her feel alive?

Usually those nights and adventures felt pretty damn close, she was almost an optimist, but sometimes at the end of a night she could feel a tinge of something sparking under her skin. Whether she had walked into her apartment alone, the room spinning with wine, or just before falling asleep next to a drunken boy that she just had a great time with, the magic sparked ever so softly and she felt it for sure. She knew it was still there, almost eager to get out in its subtleness. It wouldn't be forgotten despite all she tried to do. So she just had to live with it.

She contemplated how easy it would be to tell that redhead and her blonde friend to pack up and go home now, that college would not be illustrious and magnificently great as they dreamed it would; it was not the same place that buzzfeed articles about partying and stalking instagram for hot fraternity boys told it would be. At least they would have some fun for a while with those parties and those boys, she thought. But then she had to remind herself that's exactly what she had fun with freshman year. I mean, come on Hermione, you aren't THAT depressed here, she thought to herself to cheer up. You've had fun, you have some friends, Erin and Christine and Therese, and that pixie looking girl, what was her name? she stared at the red headed girl even longer. Nevermind, they'll enjoy it here I bet! They have to, they're normal girls! They'll fit it for sure.

She did have those few, close friends and fun, but there was still a little something missing and it was so damn hard to forget. Maybe that was because of the spark of something else under her skin that never completely went away all her life, still itching her to this day…

Hermione had been lazily looking down at the girls still as she fought her pessimistic thoughts away, noticing the blonde had taken to messing up the redhead's hair, as if the flies or whatever she had been pointing to earlier had gotten inside. What an odd girl, she thought breaking her inner monologue, but suddenly the red head made the blonde stop, upset she had messed up her hair. As she lifted her hand to fix it, the tip of her sleeve fell slightly, and a wooden tip was exposed. She practically didn't even touch her hair as she waved her hand over her head, the hair fixing itself instantly. Hermione blinked in disbelief and immediately got closer to the open window; that couldn't have been real, could it? The redhead got up then, grabbed her bag like nothing was out of ordinary and the blonde followed lazily, as they were taken to check in with another group of students nearby them. They disappeared too quickly and Hermione desperately scanned the crowd for them. Gone, completely disappeared! She scanned again and again, but came up with nothing. She sat down on the window sill, resting her head against the glass. Take a deep breath, maybe you saw it wrong, completely wrong, yeah that's it, she thought, closing her eyes.

She had to stop reveling in the past; this was the first time in a while that anything out of the ordinary had come up, besides her own little bursts of magic. She was beginning to lose hope that the somewhere she so hoped was real since she was young was actually real. But that had been a pretty damn good indicator of something… of something different… it was almost like, like she had a, a wand!? That cannot be what I saw, could it? It CAN'T. She didn't touch her hand to her hair at all though! I swear...like what in the bloody hell happened!?

She looked up then, desperately hoping the girls would reappear in the crowd that she'd lost them in. As she searched, she couldn't find any glimpse of red in the sea of browns, blacks, and blondes. They had definitely heard ahead of time that it was so much better to escape the welcome ceremony… She scanned the steps of the Roost in front of her, reluctant. It was useless; there were way too many people here now and the girls were nowhere in sight. Sighing, she began to just look at all the people again, trying to make sense of what she saw, trying to calm down.

She tried to push it out of her mind. It was nothing more than a subtle movement that she had missed, she concluded, continuing to look at the pooling students. She had to remind herself to be logical, it was after all one of her strengths, and sometimes she was able to pull out logical means for the seemingly magical unexplanables in her life. Like the time she thought she saw a boy in the supermarket put cookies in the cart without grabbing them himself. He had wiggled the lower boxes he could reach and it fell in, right? Right. She had to be logical.

There's got to be something to keep my mind off all this magic nonsense… look at all these little children, god they look younger than I remember looking when I was in first year, they're like tiny, they all look like kids- she stopped mid thought and did a double take. She thought she saw a glimpse of red hair, and instantly began scrutinizing the area. After a few seconds she realized it was only the glimmer of a flag up above. She sighed, losing hope again, and her eyes followed the flag pole down. When she got to the bottom, however, he mouth gaped open. She couldn't stop staring; a boy was perched on the last railing of the staircase beyond, leaning against it half engulfed in shadow from the nearby building and half blinding in the sunlight.

His white blonde hair was a shade Hermione had never seen in real life. It took her by surprise it shone so bright, a brilliant color like fresh frost on grass. It fell in long jagged sections across his forehead, just hitting the edge of a brilliant pair of dark sunglasses. This cut off her view of his eyes but his jaw was strong, his face angular in a handsome way and his skin was pale like his hair. But that was nothing compared to his figure; there was no way this kid was a young little freshman, he looked good. His posture leaked arrogance and self worth, the bored look to his mouth showed his annoyance at the surrounding kids. His jeans clung to his muscles in a strained way and his black button up was rolled up on only one side, revealing a strong arm. The last feature Hermione noticed was what looked like a cigarette in his hand, and at this Hermione scoffed and got mad, knocked back into the real world very quickly. Disgusting! Absolutely dreadful! A smoker, really? You were this close to being perfect you bloody arse, she noted as her excitement fell.

And she began looking around the crowd again. But it wasn't long until she found herself staring at him again and again; she couldn't pull herself to look away. He didn't do anything but sit and stare out at the crowd in front of him, just as Hermione was doing up in her classroom in the Roost. He looked around lazily though, again seeming bored at what was going on. His gaze moved quickly to look straight under the window she was at, and Hermione was glued so close to the window in anticipation her nose touched the glass. He pulled his sunglasses down ever so slowly to reveal brilliant gray eyes. Hermione gasped at his actions, forgetting she had been watching him so intently. Fuck, what if he saw me staring? That's so awkward, shit! her mind raced with embarrassment as she tried to hide herself from the window, backing up from the pane quickly. After a few tense moments Hermione had relaxed a miniscule amount when she dared to peek at him once more. As she turned her face to the very edge of the window she saw his eyes were still up where she was for a split second before he looked away, the smallest smirk lifted his bored mouth up. Quickly she withdrew away from the window, blush rising quickly to flush her cheeks, her heartbeat now racing through her veins. Shit, she thought, absolute shit, why do you have to be so fucking creepy!? She slid down against the wall next to the window, out of sight completely, putting her head in her hands.

He was mesmerizing in a way that attractive men can be, but there was something else about him, whether his attitude or his almost unnatural hair color, she felt like he had plenty of secrets that no one knows. He was just so peculiar, and was that a fucking smile coming to his lips when he saw her? Ugh that just makes me want to get to know him- no, no he's no good, Hermione look at him, she thought desperately as she stole a glance out the window from the floor once more. His sunglasses were back in place and he took another drag from the almost gone cigarette in his hand before he crushed it and threw it aside nonchalantly. Logically you're better than him, he's a useless smoker. Yes, ew he's vile, definitely a tool nonetheless, probably some frat arse anyway. Don't waste your time. She made up her mind then, yes, she would ignore his attractiveness for the fact his personality was probably most definitely shit. She found that out to be true for quite a few guys here anyway without getting to know them, so he would be no different.

She continued to peek over the edge of the window sill, his frame moved gracefully with the cigarette discarded, and he ran his hand through his hair. It was completely intoxicating and Hermione had no idea why. She couldn't stop watching; he just drew her in like a spectacular firework show or a crazy car crash. No, fuck this! Who do you think you are stealing my thoughts?! Ugh! She scoffed out loud in her frustration, feeling as if he personally harmed her or something. She left the empty classroom right then, determined to gain the upper hand, even though she had nothing to prove. She had to approach him, ask him what his problem was, ask him who he was, why he had stared, something! It was only logical to find out why he was so damn intriguing! And as she grasped the doorknob a hint of a little magic was at her fingertips.

By the time Hermione got down the three flights of stairs to the lobby of the Roost she was out of breath and the nervousness kicked in. Wait, what the hell am I doing? What would he say, what would he do?! What the fuck would I even say back?! She stopped just inside one of the doors and bit her lip, but then again Hermione was never the scared sort. If I approach him and he runs off then it's no biggie, I'm saved from all of this! She opened the door with a brave face of determination and immediately let out a huff of hot air. She went from ambitious to annoyed in two seconds flat; he was nowhere in sight the railing bare and not a trace of white blonde could be found as she stood in the sunlight on the stairs. Figures… all the good ones slither away. Ugh! No! he's NOT good, he's definitely NOT, she reminded herself. She walked back through the Roost after one last scan of the grounds, wanting to avoid the enormous amount of annoying freshman still caught in the golden shine of glorious college living. She headed out of the lobby into the circular hall (the classrooms were in the center, a hallway wrapped around the outside). Eventually she made her way to the bus stop outside the coffee house on west campus, all the while thinking about stupid frat boys, incoming freshman, and missed chances. She grabbed a coffee before heading on the next bus and making her way to her apartment downtown, staring out the window the entire way to try to get white blonde hair out of her mind.

She lived in a corner apartment building, all brick and old school styled, on the fifth floor. She shared it with Erin, a snobby girl that was decent most of the time, whom she had met last year in her film class. They both needed a roommate and became friends enough to live together, so it just worked out well. It wasn't until they started living together they realized they were pretty good friends. They liked each other more than they'd admit, probably because it gave them both a sense that they belonged, as Erin had made off handed comments a few times about her stressful high school life as well. Their apartment had bedrooms on either side of a joint kitchen and living room, the latter of which was wide and spacious, with floor length windows overlooking the street and city below.

When she got in the door, Erin was in the shower, a note scrawled across the white board on the fridge in her hand saying "Bitches getting fucked up tonight or what?" and she knew that meant friends were coming over later. Well, might as well find a decent outfit ahead of time, for she knew she'd be going with them even if she had planned to just read in her room tonight and maybe grade the final papers from the summer class she'd student taught. She guessed it wouldn't hurt to have fun tonight, classes didn't start until Monday and it was Friday. And the grades weren't due until next week at least.

Erin had made it clear when she was moving some stuff in from her car that she had just broken up with her girlfriend from the summer, so she was in one of her moods where she was desperate for anything with a sex drive. She always got that way after a bad breakup, convinced she should go for anyone willing, regardless of gender. But she always wound up back with another girl anyway; always beautiful and kind so it was hard to believe Erin was always getting broken up with to begin with since the girls she picked seemed harmless.

But it didn't matter, Erin was happy with her lifestyle, and that suited Hermione just fine. Hermione wondered what party they'd be headed to tonight. It was only the second move-in day she figured something had to be brewing up with the soccer team, or maybe the swimmers, they always came back early and were known to show everyone a great time. The soccer team had a new goalie, she only knew because Erin had texted her freaking out about him this summer; maybe she wasn't completely over guys? Nah, it was the accent for sure. He was from Germany, and as she looked at outfits Hermione couldn't help but smile at the thought of a dashing foreigner asking her if she wanted another drink. She looked through her closet for something good, and managed to find tight black jeans and a dark red top that was cropped perfectly to her torso. It wasn't her favorite color but it looked great on her, and why not sport school colors tonight, if they so happened to run into the soccer team anyway, she'd have something to talk about. She picked out some boots and placed them at the end of her bed before looking at herself in her full length mirror.

I need to fix this, she said to herself, staring at some dark circles under her eyes. She was just finishing her makeup to her liking when Erin popped her head in the door frame. Her short black hair was still wet, clinging to her neck as she stood in just her towel, still steamy from her shower.

"Hey, who you trying to get at tonight? Damn girl," she chuckled as she admired Hermione in the mirror.

"Um, no one unless you do your thing on this fucking mess I call hair," Hermione stated as she pointed to her head. It wasn't that her hair was ugly, but it had the tendency of, how would you put it? getting away from Hermione's control; frizzy and crazy if she let it go too long without brush or attention. And that happened sort of frequently with Hermione; she was lazy in that aspect. Erin had become a master at taming the wild frizz, making Hermione's curls look softer and hang straight. It was a bit of a process but Erin never said no.

"You really need to learn how on your own," Erin said while taking a few strands in her hands. "I mean, really you should just hack it all off, it's of no use, no consequence, and alas your nights would be easier!" she exclaimed in a false old fashion-y voice.

"Then by all means we must cut if off! My bald head will shine with the glory of my ancestors around any party we enter, with you on my arm to take the credit!" Hermione laughed, pulling her hair back as if she were bald, in a similar voice to Erin's.

"Oh fuck no, I will never let you do that," Erin shrieked, swatting Hermione's hands away so she didn't look insane. "Okay, okay enough with the old timer voices. Let me get some clothes on and then, we tame!" She gestured to Hermione's hair before making a grand exit to her room. Tonight will be fun, that's all there is to it, Hermione smiled determinedly to herself in the mirror having had her senses rejuvenated by her comical roommate.

After the hair taming, Hermione helped Erin find a suitable outfit, and then put on her own before coming back out into the living room to pour herself some wine from the huge box Erin had placed on the counter. It was nearly 8 o clock, and Christine and Therese would be arriving any minute. Hermione sipped on her wine as she flipped through CDs of music to put on. Erin waltzed around the living room, staring out the huge front windows at the people walking around below. As the music began to play, there was a knock on the door, and the festivities began…