Chapter 1

You mean a Pen-Pal?

September 13, 1991

Professor Flitwick fidgeted on his stand with a broad smile on his bearded face. As soon as all his students were in their seats, he began the class with an announcement. "Welcome, welcome! I have some exciting news! The Professors and I have been talking and connecting with other Schools and we have all come to an agreement of sorts. Not only are you all going to learn a new charm for sending letters, but you all will gain a quill-pal from another school as well!"

The first years around me chittered amongst themselves with a mixture of enthusiasm and irritation. The irritation came mostly from the Slytherins, but who's paying attention to them? Not me certainly. I raised my hand, a common occurrence in classes and something my peers have learned to associate with me. "I'm sorry, Professor. Do you perhaps mean a pen-pal? A person from a different school or even country with which we will exchange letters with in an attempt to learn and understand the other's culture?"

The half goblin beamed down at me from his perch. "Right you are, Miss Granger! Headmaster Dumbledore thinks it would be beneficial to you students to branch out a little and speak to another student not attending Hogwarts. Isn't that exciting?!"

I raised my hand again. "How will you determine our… quill-pals?"

"Can't wait to get started, Miss Granger? I thought you might like this." Professor Flitwick turned to address that room. "It is not I that will determine to whom you shall write. It is your magic that will decide! Now since some of you have proven rather volatile with simple charms," All eyes seemed to land on Seamus Finnigan. "Professor McGonagall helped me in creating a magic mailbox."

He waved his wand and a mahogany box floated out from behind his desk and gently floated down to land softly on a table in the center of the room. It wasn't very big, about the size of a shoe box. The box had a long, rectangular slot cut into the lid for envelopes to slide through.

"You all are going to spend the hour writing your letters and working on something called the Snap Charm and the Translation Charm. This charm allows someone to send a letter without the use of an owl. However, this charm is rather intimate seeing as you need to know the feel of the magic of the person you are sending it to for it to work. The second is self explanatory. Now before you all send off your letters, you will infuse your parchment with your magic. Doing so is incredibly easy. Just hold your wand above your letter and will your magic to coat the parchment. Just think of what you want done and your magic should take care of the rest. Once your letter is sealed and coated, you will drop it into the box and your magic will seek out a student from another school whose magic is compatible to yours. Alright! Pull out some parchment and your quills and let's get started!"

The first years began assembling what they needed for today's 'lesson'. My things were already out and prepared. Now I just needed to come up with something to write.

What am I supposed to say? What if my quill-pal ends up being another stuck up, self righteous blood purist like Malfoy and his pack of mindless morons? Could I ask Professor McGonagall, probably the greatest witch to ever walk the earth, to help me find another quill-pal? Could my heart take the teasing and the name calling from someone who hadn't even met me?

I dipped my quill into the ink and began my letter. This is a school project, after all.

To whomever receives this letter,

Yes, that's a good start. But now what?

I am a tad nervous about this quill-pal business. Hopefully, your Professors have mentioned it and you're not taken completely by surprise by a letter from a girl you have never met. I know it would freak me out.

Damn it! I sound whiny, don't I? Oh well.

I admit to being a little curious about other schools. Which academy do you attend? What are you favorite subjects? Your favorite Professor?

I am enrolled at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My favorite subjects are Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, well… all of them really. You see, I love to learn. I'm already studying second and third year spells. It upsets me that they are not teaching us first years the Shield Charm. What would happen if we needed to protect ourselves?

Should I mention my black belt in Krav Maga? No. That's a muggle thing. That'll be a dead give away that I'm not a pure or half-blood!

My favorite Professor here is Minerva McGonagall. She is stern but very kind. She encourages my studies and says that I show great potential.

You are not obligated to respond, so don't write back if this project bores you as it does my classmates. Have a wonderful day and I hope you excel in your studies.

Shite! How do I sign? I can't use my last name!

Hermione

There. Just my first name. It's not exactly common. If he wants to write back, there's no way it could get mixed up.

I held my wand above the parchment and willed my magic to flow out of my wand and seep into the fibers of the paper. Once the parchment was all but radiating my essence, I sealed it and stood to drop it into the box. I was not the only one there. The Boy Who Lived had just dropped off his letter. "Oh! Hello… Hermione. Finished already?"

I nodded and released my letter into the slot. "Not exactly rocket science. It's just writing a few words to a perfect stranger. Where do you think your letter will end up?"

Harry shrugged, "I don't really care. As long as I don't get a reply asking me about my parents and how I defeated Voldemort."

My heart ached for this boy. To have so much pressure placed on upon his shoulders over something he had no memory of must be trying. All eyes were on him all the time. If it were me, I would have lost my mind. "Hey. If you need someone to talk…"

"No no! It's okay! I'm fine. Really."

"Are you sure? I mean, I…."

"Oi!" Both of us jumped at the annoying shriek of none other than that brutish simpleton, Ronald Weasley. The redhead was stomping towards us. "What the bloody hell are you doing? Harry doesn't need a little know-it-all badgering him about what he did wrong! It's a bloody letter, not an exam! Sod off!"

His tone had me on the defense. I felt attacked and angry. Never a good combination. "Excuse you? This is an A B conversation, so C your way out of it. And for your information, the topic of Harry's grade was not the subject of our discussion!"

Harry stepped between us. "Can we please stop fighting?"

I gave the Weasel my best glare and bowed to Harry's plea. "Whatever. I have more important things to do than bicker with an vacuous imbecile. I do hope you don't mess up the simple Snap Charm. Who knows where your letter would end up!" With that, I spun on my heel and huffed to my seat. I already read up on the Snap and Translation Charms. The theory of them was simple. I had already tried out the Translation Charm. It was incredibly easy. The problem was knowing which language you were translating, which could be solved easily with a book or two. Seeing as I already mastered the Translation Charm, I read up on the other once more. I was elated to finally test it out.

When everyone's letters were sent off, Professor Flitwick explained the Snap Charm and had us try sending parchment to him. I was the first one to perfect it, earning Gryffindor twenty points. Seamus Finnigan managed to cause an explosion and burned off his eyebrows. He snuck a pleading look at me and I nodded. I would regrow his eyebrows once again as I am sure to do in the next seven years.

Class ended and Seamus stayed behind so I could fix him up. We couldn't meet outside because he didn't 'want to be seen with the know-it-all, you know'. I did know. I knew too well that know one liked me. No one but the teachers. Just like grade school.

Not for lack of trying on my part.

Every time I have tried to fit in and make friends, I only succeeded in chasing them off faster. Is there something wrong with me? Is it my bushy hair? My big front teeth? What is it about me that no one seems to like?

I was so excited the day I got my letter. The day McGonagall came knocking on my door. I had always known I was different. No matter what I tried, I couldn't fit in with the children at school. And then I find out that I can't because I'm a witch! I didn't belong with the muggles, I belonged in Minerva's world. A world of magic and spells. A place where people would understand me. I was so… happy when Minerva first accompanied me to Diagon Alley. I had never felt such joy. I finally found my place in the world.

Oh, how wrong I was.

It wasn't until I was Sorted that I found out just how similar magical children were to muggles. Having magic made them no less cruel. In fact, it made them more so. Now I not only had to fight back with my sharp tongue, but I also had to shield myself from jinxes and hexes and those bloody pranks those devil twins created just for the purpose of making my life a living hell. Then there were the purebloods. Those deplorable, pretentious, narcissistic peacocks that sneered down their noses at me simply for being born to non-magical parents. And those who weren't out to get me, the ones that witnessed the atrocities, said nothing. Did nothing. They went about their lives, uncaring of loners like me and their feelings. As long as it wasn't them being bullied, they were content to let it be.

The wizarding world was nothing like the muggle world.

It was worse.

No matter. I don't need friends. What good are friends when they can stab you in the back and use you for your intelligence, taking everything you had to give until there was nothing left and tossing you aside? No. I have the library and my school work. I don't need anything else. I'm perfectly happy as I am. Yup. No complaints here.

Maybe if I said it enough, I could make myself believe it.

I went about the rest of my day as I usually did; alone. Some students would approach me in secret to ask for help on their homework, and then they vanished just as quickly when I told them that I wouldn't do their work for them. I was sitting peacefully in the library, ignoring Madam Pince's concerned glances, when a letter popped into existence in front of my face. The rolled up parchment emitted a very… masculine and commanding magic. Whoever this letter came from was no doubt an eye grabber. I bet people's eyes couldn't help but jump to him when he entered a room. I grabbed the parchment and unrolled it, curious as to what was inside.

Rubbish.

A pretty mess of odd letters written in a sharp hand.

I immediately got up and began searching through the foreign language section. A small one, but helpful in this instance. Considering that the alphabet isn't too different from mine but with its few odd figures, it must be a northwestern region. Maybe Romanian, or Russian. Scandinavian? What magic school lies in the northwest?

After thorough research, I discovered the language of the letter. Bulgarian. I held my wand above the letter and muttered the spell to turn the words into something legible. The print on the parchment shifted and changed until I could make out what it said.

Hermione,

A strange name. I like it. How do you pronounce it? My name is Viktor. Not as unique as your name, but I've been told it suits me.

As to your nerves, I can't have you feeling unsettled. My friends would never let me live it down. If mama ever heard that I scared a young lady, she would beat me black and blue. Let me see if I can put your unease to rest. I attend Durmstrang Institute, I do not have a favorite Professor, and my favorite subject is Dark Arts. I love to play Quidditch and I can play guitar. Mother says I play beautifully, but she is my mom. It is her duty to make me feel good about myself.

A first year, huh? I am a fourth year. Are you really studying magic beyond your years? You must be quite the bookworm. No insult intended. Being smart is not a bad thing. Do you play an instrument? What are your hobbies? Do you like Quidditch?

Tell me about yourself.

Viktor Krum

I gawked at the parchment in disbelief. He thinks I'm smart? Looking at the letter again, I realized he sounded just as nervous as I was. I whispered his name a few times. It sounded foreign. Not as much as mine does to him, I'll bet. He seemed… very sweet. And he didn't ask for a last name. Maybe he doesn't care? Should I risk it? I'll think about it. Later. For now, I'll reply and see where this goes.

I pulled a clean parchment from my bag and laid it on the table. Using my ink and quill already set out for studying, I began my reply.

Viktor,

I like your name. It sounds strong. If you have trouble with my name, you wouldn't be the first. Why don't you call me Mimi (pronounced me-me). My mum called me that once, but it aggravated me. I'll allow you to use it, though.

That sounded dumb. Stupid Mimi!

I'm not sorry to say that I find Quidditch to be a boring, pointless waste of time. A bunch of people on brooms tossing a ball between them until one of them catches a tiny ball. And sometimes they don't even win. Not exactly fun to watch. I find my time is better devoted to research. One can never be too prepared and I intend on being top of the class every class. I seem to be doing well so far if what my Professors say is true.

My hobbies… well, I love to read. Anything I can get my hands on really. No knowledge is completely useless. My mother had me in dance classes since I could walk and my father encouraged me to learn violin. I am quite good, I'd say. I wrote a few songs, but I doubt anyone would want to hear them. Do you write songs of your own?

Mimi

I folded my letter and sealed it with magic. I held Viktor's letter in my hand and focused on sending my reply to the source of this magic. I snapped my fingers and prayed that my letter, now gone, was in his hands and not someone else's. Like Draco. By the stars, he'd make my life a bigger hell than it already is thanks to him and my own House.

Who's to say Viktor won't think the same?

My relatively good mood soured and I collected my things for dinner. Sitting by myself. Again. As usual.

Not that I care. I have accepted long ago that I will never have a true friend. I'm always too smart, too ugly, too bookish, too secretive, too unapproachable. The only time anyone searches me out is to either ask for help on school work or insult me. I've learned from my mistake. I won't trust anyone like that again.

No one waved to me as I walked through the corridors. No one called me over to sit with them. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm about to become one of the Weasley twins' victims. Again. Their pranks usually were harmless, but no doubt everyone would draw out my suffering. I shot them a dirty glare and tried setting up a shield around myself. Protego Totalum. I felt the pull of my magic and something appear around me, but I won't know if it truly works until someone does something.

It didn't take long to figure out that it worked.

The newest invention of Fred and George Weasley crashed into an invisible wall and splattered the table and a few Housemates in a riot of colors. Fred and George cheered for a few seconds before they realized that they missed their intended target. I smirked darkly at them and flipped them the bird as my father would say. They frowned and started whispering to each other. I rolled my eyes and went back to my meal.

Seamus, sitting across from me, leaned over his plate. "I don't know how you did that, but it's only going to encourage them to try harder. Can't you just let yourself get pranked so they can move on to some other poor sap?"

"Unless you've forgotten, they've already pranked me and I won't allow it anymore."

Seamus was cut off by the appearance of a letter. The parchment was rolled up like last time, floating before me and waiting to be read. I reached out and gingerly plucked the paper from the air. Not noticing the looks from those around me, I cast the Translation Charm and began reading.

Mimi,

I like it. That is so much easier to say. I actually said it a few times, getting a feel for it. It is very sweet. Just like you, I'm sure. Did you say my name out loud?

I don't see how anyone can not like Quidditch. It is such a big part of wizard culture and I do not think I could imagine my life without it. Playing Quidditch is one of my favorite pass times. I am the Seeker for my Quidditch team. My coach says I have a lot of talent and that I could go professional one day soon.

I play guitar, but I could not compose a song to save my life. Do you really write your own music? The violin is a beautiful instrument. I bet you play it beautifully. I would love to hear a sample if I could. Do you play for your friends and siblings? What do they think? My brothers think I sound terrible.

Viktor

My smile was bittersweet as I pulled out the equipment needed to send my reply.

Viktor

Yes, I did say your name. I admit I enjoy the way it rolls of the tongue.

If you wish to pursue Quidditch as a career than do it. But do it for you, because you enjoy the sport, not because someone said you should.

Yes, I compose my own music. I found I have a bit of a knack for it. I'm not saying that they're good, just that they are mine. As to your request to hear a few songs, I can look up some recording spells. I don't know if they will work, but there is no harm in trying. When you hear them, promise that you won't be too harsh. You will be the first one to hear my music and I would like to keep my confidence in my violin as undamaged as possible. I haven't had the chance to play since coming to Hogwarts, and I might need to get a bit of practice in before I send you any recordings.

I am an only child of two loving parents. My mom nearly died giving birth to me and my parents decided that they couldn't take another risk. Being an only child has its perks. I was spoiled rotten growing up and I never had to share my parent's affection.

Instead of siblings, I have a half-Kneazle cat named Crookshanks. A fluffy ball of anger and entitlement, but he loves me. Do you have a familiar?

Mimi.

I sealed the letter and sent it with a snap. Making a note to research recording spells, I dived back into my dinner. The sooner I finished, the sooner I could practice. He's the first person I'm sharing my music with and I want it to be perfect. I wonder if the batteries of my boom box still work. The song wouldn't be half as good without the track I had one of daddy's friends help me make. It was relatively new, the computerized track. Daddy's friend said it's the future of music. I didn't really care, so long as I could make it work. I even have a sound board packed away in my room to test out new sounds. Recording will be a pain in the ass though without a computer tune it. Oh well. I can always do it when I go home for winter break.

Two bodies encased Seamus and kept him from moving. The Weasley twins eyed me curiously. "I see the little bookworm got a quill-pal."

"Just give it a few days. You'll bore the poor sod to tears."

I bristled at the mischievous twinkles in their eyes and pushed my plate away. "My quill-pal seems a decent sort. Better company that the Gryffindor bookends. Now if you excuse me, I'm going to go study. Some of us actually want to pass our exams."

The few students listening in on us oo'ed at my jab, but eventually dropped it. No one would want to make fun of the Weasley twins. They thought them too likable. I collected my bag and stormed out of the room. I would have to find a place to practice my violin. A place that no one knows about. A secret niche where I won't have to worry about people overhearing me. They make fun of me enough. I don't need to give them more fodder. But where? Where could I find a place like that? I heard the Hufflepuffs knew their way around the school. I suppose I could bribe one of them to tell me of a place, but that would defeat the purpose of finding a place to be alone. If one Hufflepuff knows about, they all certainly must. Not to mention they could slip in at anytime and watch me. And I just can't have that. My music is mine and who I share it with is my decision.

It was the shifting of stone that caught my attention first. The slight tug on my conscience, a siren call to my magical core, had me backtracking.

What used to be a solid wall there was now a simple door. It wasn't overly large and didn't look like anything special. It looked like a door to any old classroom. If I didn't feel that silent call, I wouldn't have looked twice at the undecorated ordinary door.

The overwhelming urge to know made me step forward and twist the knob. The door swung open, into a dark room. I stepped inside, only for a peek, to see the contents of the room. It was actually rather bare. A wide expanse of floor gave enough room for one of my classes to learn ballroom dancing. Three of the walls were lined with mirrors and the last was occupied by a large fireplace sitting beneath a massive stain glass window. I thought is was just a long forgotten storage room until I saw the corner.

Spread out to the right of the fireplace was a computer, a key and sound board, a microphone… everything I needed to truly record and perfect my music.

Excited beyond belief, I ran to Gryffindor tower to retrieve my violin. And since everyone wa at dinner, there was nobody to see or stop me.