A/N: Written for the Seven Years at Hogwarts Competition by Weasley Seeker. I will be updating on Wednesdays as usual. The quote in the summary is from: Rowling, J. K. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Bloomsbury: London, 1997, p. 208. Oh, yeah, and the rest of the stuff you recognize belongs to JKR too :)

September 1, 1991

Hermione Jean Granger stopped her trolley between platforms nine and ten and turned to her parents. ″This is where we say goodbye.″

The lines on her mother's forehead deepened. ″But we haven't even found the train yet, Hermione. I want to make certain—″

″Miss Alden told me how to find the platform,″ Hermione said with more confidence than she felt. While her parents had agreed to let her attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry after the visit from a Muggle Relations representative (and much begging by Hermione), they had more and more misgivings as the day of her departure approached. She couldn't show any hesitation, not now, or they would send her to that dreadful all-girls' school in Kent. She had hated it from the first pamphlet picture. ″I'll be fine, Mum. I'll write to you tonight, I promise.″

″Well, do be careful. Make sure you eat breakfast every morning, and work hard, and don't forget to floss before bed.″

″I won't.″ Hermione hugged her mother, taking in the faint citrus scent of her soap and fighting the urge to bury her face in her cardigan.

″Take care of yourself, Princess,″ her dad said, hugging her tightly and lifting her off the floor. ″And remember, you don't have to stay at this new school. If you don't like it, you can come home any time. Just let us know.″

″I'm going to like it, Daddy. I won't be strange there. I'll fit in this time.″ Please, please let me fit in!

Her mother brushed an imaginary piece of lint off the shoulder of her robes and made a futile attempt to smooth her hair. ″Well, go on then. We love you.″

″I love you too.″ Hermione smiled at her parents, looked around furtively, and pushed her trolley towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

She did it! She wasn't surprised, not really; after all, the spells from her schoolbooks had worked without difficulty, but that was in the privacy of her own room, with her own wand. Hermione slipped her hand into her pocket, feeling the smooth vine wood with a dragon heartstring core. Imagine, dragons were real, and part of one was in her wand! She looked around, pushing her trolley away from the billowing steam at the head of the train. Owls hooted, cats meowed, and off to the right, a chubby boy chased after an escaping toad. As she walked, Hermione began to feel self-conscious; no one was in their school robes. She had overridden her parents' objections, thinking wearing them would help her to blend in with the other pupils, but she stuck out here just as much as she had in the Muggle station. Why was it that no matter what she did to fit in, it was always wrong?

It was just past 10:30, but having no friends to catch up with, Hermione lugged her trunk onto the train and found an empty compartment. She took out Hogwarts, A History—her new favorite book—and settled herself in a seat next to the window. Thirty minutes later, as the train pulled out of the station, she was only pretending to read. She had left the compartment door open, but although some people had looked in, no one asked if they could join her. No one had joined her. She was all alone, just like—

Hermione slammed the book shut and stared out the window. Please, please don't let them make fun of me. I made certain everything about my uniform meets the dress code, I got new shoes, Mum wrote my name on all of my clothes, even my socks and knickers. Let the girls in my dormitory—even if it's not Gryffindor, although I think it sounds by far the best—please just let them be nice. Miss Alden said there would be other Muggle-borns too. Please don't let me be the only one who sticks out. I've read all my schoolbooks, and Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Centrury, and I've read Hogwarts, A History three times already. Please, please, PLEASE don't let me say or do anything stupid, especially not in front of the teachers. Please, just—Hermione forced the image of her grammar school classmates out of her mind and swiped her sleeve across her cheeks.

Please, just let me fit in this time.