Disclaimer to JK Rowling

Chapter Three: Commonplace

The magical serum is a complicated substance, studied for decades at the Department of Mysteries. Each trial of human compatibles with rife with failure, but each failure said something new about the magical serum. It wasn't until the beginning of the 1980s where a significant change appeared, and the compatibles seemed to withstand the serum for years at a time. The change, was the dampener.

Magical Serum and its Properties, by Schollier Rich.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I heard that Potter appeared your Transfiguration class this morning," Theo said in lieu of a greeting as he pulled a chair back. Hermione grimaced as the boy fell into a chair opposite her.

"Yes, and everyone was positively moony that he deigned us with his presence," Hermione replied. She closed the translation that she had been working on for the past hour or so and clicked her fingers at him. He gave her an apprehensive look.

"I am not a Crup," Theo muttered under his breath.

A smile grew on Hermione's face at Theo's response, and she began to click at him more fervently. Glowering at her, Theo reached into his bag and pulled out a freshly updated Herbology folder. As Hermione reached for it, Theo moved it away from her grasp and pointed at her Rune translation. Grumbling, she picked it up and traded it with Theo.

Hermione spent a lot of time in the library with Theo, often trading notes. Despite Hermione clearly being the cleverer of the two, Theo had more classes than her, so Hermione would barter her own homework for fresh knowledge.

They never spoke about the inequality of the compromise, even if it did hang uncomfortably in the air.

On paper, Hermione certainly didn't look clever. Her OWLs were a mixed bag of Acceptables and Outstandings. Usually, the deciding factor on her final grade would be the subject's emphasis on magic. For theory-based subjects, such as Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, she attained some of the highest marks in history. For magical-based subjects like Transfiguration and Charms, she clearly struggled with the magic component of it.

Hermione still remembered sobbing into her pillow at the fact she couldn't perform a second-year Transfiguration spell properly during her OWL practical. She remembered the smug look on her examiner's face, as if she was mocking her and saying, you aren't even worthy of being here, Comp.

The second stab to her heart was when Professor Dumbledore pulled her into his office at the beginning of the year to tell her that despite her grades, she could only advance five subjects to NEWT-level. Additionally, she could not take up Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Hermione couldn't say she was surprised at the restrictions, but for the sake of being able to study at Hogwarts, she would take it.

Furthermore, the silver lining, as he had put it, was that she was allowed to choose any other subject regardless of grade stipulations. The fact that she had chosen Transfiguration had irked Professor McGonagall beyond belief. To Hermione, that had been the silver lining.

She had hoped for a similar reaction from Professor Snape, but he had moved from the Potions department to take up teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts. She didn't know whether to be happy or sad at the prospect that she was no longer under the tutelage of Professor Snape.

It was because Professor Snape made unfriendly people like Ronald Weasley look like mice. He used to inform Hermione, to the pleasure of her classmates, about her ineptitude and how much she didn't belong at Hogwarts. Sometimes he had detailed it out in small monologues, criticising everything she ever did or Hermione would catch the ending of a whispered soliloquy. It didn't matter what the variation was, but the meaning was the same every time: being compatible didn't make you competent.

The new Potions Professor, Professor Slughorn, was slightly better. That was, if by 'better' it meant treating one as if they were part of the Potions classroom wall.

Hermione turned to the latest entry in Theo's folder, and was reaching into her bag for her own notebook when Theo asked, "So, what did you think of him?"

She raised an eyebrow as she placed her notebook on the table, and returned his question with another. "Of who?"

"Potter."

"I didn't think of much, really," Hermione said with a shrug.

Theo snorted at her, "Hermione Granger didn't think of much? That's a new one."

"Fine," Hermione sighed, "I thought that it was more than unfair that if I were to be late for Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class, it is enough of an offence to get me suspended from the class for a week. However, if Harry Potter walks in twenty minutes late, she simpers in front of the entire class, as well as allowing him five minutes of class time to introduce himself to everyone."

"She simpered?" Theo asked, his face was a picture of revulsion and then added, "And stopped her terribly advanced NEWT-level class for five minutes to allow the rest of the class to introduce themselves?"

"Precisely," Hermione muttered. She was already absorbed in the little diagrams of plants and dipped her quill into her inkwell to start copying. Theo clicked his fingers next to her ear, and she jumped a little. "What?"

"So, did he introduce himself to you?"

"Yes," Hermione answered absently, squinting a little at Theo's miniscule cursive handwriting.

"And?"

"What do you think? He looked at me as if he had never seen a Comp before and then pity seemed to befall him. Befitting really, seeing as he is heralded as saving my kind, but you would have thought that -…"

"I'm sorry you felt that way," a voice said from behind, interrupting her little tirade.

Hermione turned to see a red-faced Potter, clutching a stack of parchment and other assorted stationary. The green eyes behind his round glasses looked so alive, that Hermione faltered. An apology itched on the tip of her tongue but she bit down on it. She looked at Theo for guidance, but he was firmly staring at Potter.

"Magic Compatibles didn't attend Hogwarts when I was…" he paused, seemingly trying to find the right word for his predicament. He cleared his throat and continued, "…When I was last at Hogwarts. I didn't realise that was why you were at the back of the class."

I suppose there hadn't been a good enough reason for them to be at Hogwarts, Hermione thought snidely to herself but pushed that thought to the back of her mind.

Instead, Hermione opened her mouth to say something but Theo interrupted her.

"I'm surprised that you couldn't tell by her shackles," he remarked, and Hermione glanced at her wrists.

The 'shackles' Theo were referring to, were the dampeners that Hermione had to wear all the time. In the Muggle world, they only looked like simple silver bracelets. In the Wizarding world, they were a symbol of her Compatibility status, a sign that she was different from the rest of them.

They could survive without the use of a dampener, whereas she could not.

Hermione had been born without a magical core, so technically she wasn't a wizard. Her magical capability came from a magical serum that genetic testing had been deemed compatible with her body. Thus, she could perform spells but would never be able to achieve the finesse of a natural-born wizard. Wizards – as Professor Snape had intoned many times over the years – were born with the natural ability to harness their magical cores through practice, and concentrate it through mediums, such as wands, to cast spells. On the other hand, Hermione's magic was parasitic, using her body as the medium, and growing overpoweringly against her will. She had limited control over the magic around her, using it to cast minor spells.

Her one attribute was that she was spades ahead of her peers in terms of wandless and non-verbal magic.

Even though it was only simple wandless and non-verbal magic.

"Dampeners weren't invented until my original third-year," Potter replied softly. "Obviously, there are safety precautions involved with Compatibles who don't have a dampener at Hogwarts."

Hermione tried not to snort.

Of course, Wizards blinded by hubris, had not anticipated that small oversight.

The problem with parasitic magical energy that Hermione had no control over, was that she and everyone else didn't know how to make it stop growing. Hermione radiated magical energy so much that she acted as an amplifier to Wizards around her, even whilst wearing her dampener. It was the main reason why she wasn't allowed to take on NEWT-level Defence Against the Dark Arts, as the advanced part of the course relied on Duelling and practicing dangerous offensive and defensive spell-work. She could make that spell-work move from being simply dangerous to outrageously deadly.

However, there was only so much that magical energy could grow before collapsing in on itself. The first people that were injected lasted mere months before exploding. After years of experimentation, they had increased the life span of a Compatible to several years, but explosions were commonplace in Wizarding Society.

Prior to the invention and implementation of the dampeners, it was illegal for an underage child to be injected for that reason. Most Magical Compatibles had been volunteers or Squibs. That changed when a plucky witch in the Department of Mysteries created the dampeners. It was revolutionary because anyone could be a Compatible, volunteer or not.

Well, Hermione tried to reason, the top five per cent of those tested most compatible are actually injected.

Hermione was one of the top five per cent and was injected mere days after she was born. Her parents were only afforded the opportunity to name her before their memories were modified and Hermione was taken to a Compatible nursery where she would live for the next eleven years.

Hermione's earliest memory were the silver bracelets that were bound around her wrists. Due to the dangerous nature of a Compatible without a dampener, the removal of a dampener without Ministry approval was punishable by death. Befitting, Ministry elders had deemed, as a Compatible would die without a dampener anyway.

It was how most Compatibles ended their lives.

Due to the strict rules in place, Hermione never knew how she performed in class without her dampeners. They dulled Hermione's magical growth, preventing her from constantly radiating magical energy or using too much of it in class. At first, Hermione had thought it was reasonable, seeing as she was a magical catalyst to those around her. Draco had snorted and said, "Or a smart way to keep people like you under control."

Whatever the reason, they worked to the point where she barely scraped Acceptable grades in classes that focused mostly on magic casting ability. It was why she would never be able to fulfil her true potential. It was why every time she felt that shot of bitterness about her situation, the skin underneath them would itch.

Most of the time, she sat at the back of the classroom doing observational work, hoping that one day, if she understood the theory enough, the practical application would come to her.

She snorted at the thought.

Such naïveté.

"Perhaps wizards should have thought of that before they injected people with a magical serum that would alter their magical makeup," Theo said coolly, after a moment.

Potter's response was to stare at the floor, clearly there was something about Theo's comment that made him feel suitably uncomfortable.

Hermione's brow lifted at that. Most of the students at Hogwarts would have made a scathing comment about the supposed greater good that Compatibles were destined to serve. Or they would state that whilst cruel, it was part of the reparations that the Muggle community had to pay for the dramatic loss of the Wizarding population. Some may have even noted Theo's heritage, and that he had little right to speak on the matter.

Potter doesn't know who he's talking to, though, or else he would have said something.

"Then again, at least there will always be a subservient community to serve a Wizards' base needs," Theo pressed.

Potter spluttered, his gaze darting between Theo and Hermione and his face reddening at the remark.

"I-I…"

"There's no need to be embarrassed, Potter. I assume the Ministry of Magic will have prepared a line of Compatibles for the Saviour-of-our-Kind, or whatever it is they are calling you these days."

There was another reason why Theo called them shackles.

The effect of Two World Wars, a Wizarding War against Grindelwald and centuries of inbreeding had been devastating to Wizarding society. First of all, there weren't enough wizards to go around before they were marrying off brother and sister. Secondly, Wizards had finally caught on that inbreeding had long-term physical and mental effects. More and more children were Squibs, or insane, and Muggleborn alliances were rare as Muggleborns were an anomaly in themselves. Afraid or too prejudiced of Muggles to consider integration, Wizards decided to borrow Muggle science and experiment with genetics.

The result was a community of half-Muggle, not-quite Wizards that carried so much magical power that almost no Squib children were born if they were from a Compatible-Wizard union.

Thus, the Magical Population Act of 1947 was passed with no dissenters. At first it was decreed that in every three generations, every Wizarding family had to produce a child of Compatible-Wizard origins or you could opt out with a donation to the Ministry. Fifty years later, amendments to the original Act meant that in every generation, a Compatible-Wizard child had to be born, or else you were given a large fine.

The Magical Population Act 1947 was a crock of shit.

Very few families could afford such a price, consequently, one of the main responsibilities of the male heir of a family was to produce an illegitimate child before marrying. Therefore, there was a certain stigma that hung around being too close to a female Compatible.

They were the mistresses of the Wizarding community, nothing more than a breeder, and producing children that threatened the claims of natural born wizards to fortunes and the like.

If Hermione was lucky, after her magical education, she would be a governess for wizarding families that could afford one. At least, that was what Hermione had always thought. As she grew up, that reality was that a Hogwarts-educated female Compatible would be a very valuable commodity for the greater good of Wizard-kind.

Or so, the belligerent Wizards, had liked to put it.

Hermione was a prisoner in a community that she had never asked to be part of, destined to be always at the whim of the Wizards who owned her.

Thus, shackles.

It was why she had a tough time making friends. It was why girls turned their noses up, knowing that as a witch, they would be second-best to a potential husband. It was why Draco was particularly taciturn with her, or why Theo was reluctant to be seen alone with her. The two boys didn't want to seem to be vying for her affections when they had family obligations to fulfil.

Hermione pondered if she would be at the top of Potter's list, when the time came for him to fulfil his duty, or if he had an automatic ability to simply opt out of the practice. Hermione shuddered.

Potter didn't have a chance to reply, as someone rapped Hermione on the shoulder. Hermione turned to see an annoyed looking Hufflepuff Prefect, who looked less-than-happy to be running this particular errand. The Prefect pulled a face at Nott, but embarrassment bloomed over her face when she saw Potter.

Hermione smirked as Potter disappeared behind an aisle. Sufficiently irritated, the Prefect turned to Hermione with a sullen look, "Headmaster Dumbledore would like to see you in his office."

Something akin to lead dropped in the base of Hermione's stomach, almost foretelling what had prompted the Headmaster's sudden interest. The Headmaster often left Hermione to her own devices, summoning her only to tell her something bad. She wondered what the Headmaster wanted with her now.

I wonder…

"But, I-I…"

"Now Granger, I don't have time for this, just do as you're told and follow me."

Breathing in through her nose to calm her nerves, she stood up. If she didn't do what she was told, the Prefect could make her life at Hogwarts quite unpleasant, as many Prefects saw fit to do so. She had to force a smile and kowtow at every opportunity, even if she hated it. She asked Theo to watch over her things, and the boy nodded. Hermione dipped her head and followed the Prefect from the library.

In through the nose, out through the mouth. In, nose, out, mouth.

Hermione had to clench her fists to stop herself from shaking, to power-walk behind the Prefect's long strides to stop her legs from giving way. The skin under her dampeners were itching as she walked. The corridors were mostly empty, which meant that the trip was quick, to Hermione's chagrin.

"Parma violets," the Prefect said, and the two gargoyles that guarded the Staircase to the Headmaster's office stepped aside.

Taking a very deep breath through her nose again, Hermione took the first step onto the Staircase. A lump formed in her throat as she raised a shaking hand to the bannister, and forced herself to pulled herself up the stone stairs.

"Hurry up!" the Prefect hissed and Hermione found her legs hurrying against her will. Before Hermione had even gotten to the last step, the Prefect knocked on the large oak door three times. She waited a moment, made sure Hermione was next to her, before entering the Headmaster's office.

Headmaster Dumbledore sat at his desk, a frown dissolving as he dropped a letter that he was reading. The quill he had in his other hand was replaced in its holder and the Headmaster stood to greet them.

"Good morning Headmaster, I brought Miss Granger, as you requested," the Prefect announced, pulling Hermione roughly to her side.

Hermione swallowed loudly, eyes darting from the portraits that adorned the walls to the floor. She was determined not to look at the Headmaster.

"Thank you, Miss Abbott. Would you like a Sugar Quill before you leave?"

"No, thank you, sir."

"Then, you are excused."

Abbott released Hermione, and with a radiant smile, she turned on her heel and exited the office. Whilst she hadn't been the friendliest of people that Hermione had encountered, she desperately wished that Abbott had stayed a bit longer. Any distraction would be welcome at the present moment. She glanced at the portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses but they all were asleep, or at least, pretending to be.

"Miss Granger, please take a seat."

Hermione shuffled forwards, ashamed of her weakness and sat carefully into a chair in front of the Headmaster's desk. She didn't look up once. She didn't want to see the sombre look that the Headmaster often arranged on his face whenever she was in this office. She didn't want to see what the Headmaster was about to say.

For once, Hermione wished that Headmaster Dumbledore had something nice to say, like he had reprimanded Chef Eideard and she could dine at any time, or that she was allowed to attend the Halloween Feast. For once, in the miserable years she had spent at Hogwarts, she hoped that it was something other than, "Miss Granger, I am afraid that I have some bad news."

It was what he preceded most conversations with, and today was no different.

"Miss Granger, I am afraid that I have some bad news."

"Yes, Professor?" Hermione asked in a voice so quiet, that she wondered if she had even spoken aloud. She focused her gaze on one of the many trinkets that lay upon the Headmaster's desk.

"Miss Granger," the Headmaster began, before pausing. When he had collected his thoughts, he carried on, "the Ministry has requested for your immediate withdrawal from this institution so that you can begin training and deployment on field missions."

Hermione blinked several times, trying to process what the Headmaster had told her properly.

It brought Hermione to the secondary use for Compatibles, and why Hermione's dreams of being a governess had been farcical. That was because, aside from breeding, Compatibles were useful for the never ending battle against Dark Wizards. Had Hermione not scored the top marks to gain entry into Hogwarts, her life would have been utterly different. Had there not been an exceptional circumstance requiring a Compatible at Hogwarts, she would have been a field-Compatible.

The amplification effect that Compatibles provided meant that they were an invaluable asset, especially without their dampeners. Trained Compatibles had the limited ability to channel their magical energy into a secondary medium, such as, another wizard, and bolstering their core. Weak wizards could use a Compatible to bolster their magical cores and be capable of anything. Strong wizards were suddenly capable of extraordinary feats.

To have a Compatible on the field tilted the odds in your favour. To have an army who each had a Compatible on their arm was to secure a victory.

Before Riddle, Ministry officials had their own Compatible partner to help them during the Wars. After Riddle, the rush of power and the feeling of utter domination was considered too addictive for Wizards. Compatibles were rotated around, having to adjust for each Wizard they partnered up with and often being mistreated by their partner, amongst other effects.

Not that anyone particularly worried about the effect these 'field missions' were having on Compatibles.

It certainly wasn't a life that Hermione wanted.

She stood up at the realisation, her legs finally gaining strength and looked at the Headmaster.

"No!"

"As you know the circumstances that allowed you to stay at Hogwarts have recently changed, and the Ministry are keen for you to leave."

She shook her head, not believing what the Headmaster was saying. First the Ministry had taken her freedom, had taken her childhood and formative years, had taken Justin, had taken opportunities, and now was taking Hogwarts from her.

Glass started rattling around them.

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione stepped back, falling onto the chair and hitting her head on the back of it. The glass stopped rattling. The edges of her eyes started to prickle, and her nose started to tingle. The Headmaster started to list of a series of reasons, excuses, ramblings, but Hermione couldn't hear it. She could only hear white noise.

"Please…"

"Pardon?"

Hermione lifted her gaze to meet the Headmaster's and said, her voice wobbling as she spoke in child-like fervour, "Please don't make me go."

It was like something in Hermione broke. Her wrists were burning underneath her dampeners as she fell from her chair and onto the ground in a slump. Her whole body trembled as blood pounded in her ears. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks and hit her hands with a splash.

"Please… Headmaster… please, don't."

"I have no choice, Miss Granger. You are to take a Portkey, now."

"I'll do anything, just let me stay," Hermione begged, staring at the floor, the words dragging themselves out of her mouth. They were empty promises, but she was willing to say anything to fill the time.

She was willing to do anything to continue her miserable life at Hogwarts, knowing it would be much worse once she left its comfortable hold.

The sound of footsteps cut through the white noise and Hermione looked up to see the Headmaster move towards her before crouching down with a soft groan. He patted one of the hands that was clutching his rug like it was a lifeline, and looked at her with a small smile.

"Perhaps, I could make a case for you on account of you being an exemplary student… and for your services to… well, you know what you have done."

"You will?"

"You still have to leave tonight, Miss Granger, but I assure you, you may return to resume your studies following what the Ministry has planned for you tonight."

Hermione let out the breath she didn't know she was keeping in and more tears fell down her cheeks, as she whispered, "T-Thank you."

The Headmaster stood up with another groan, and walked back to his seat. Hermione wondered if she imagined it, but for a moment she thought she heard him say, "Don't thank me just yet."

A/N: I apologise if this was a "meaty" chapter, but this was my way of getting the some of the "background" info about Magic Compatibles out of the way, because whilst I have "chapter-openers" that attempt to move the story/history/background along, I tend keep that short and snappy and relevant to the chapter, so, this chapter moves the plot forward only by inches but has a lot of background - if that helps? I don't know.

Update: 24/09 - sometimes after publication I read through the chapter and see if I made some errors I didn't pick up on (I probably should get a beta but I work an unreliable timescale that isn't fair for another person to hang on for) and I correct them. This time I did this on the phone app and it messed up the layout, so apologies for that, but it *should* be fixed now. [Note to everyone: do not edit on your phone].

Also, I would like to add here that I am so humbled by your responses for this fanfic. I will respond to reviews and stuff in the next chapter, which is half-way done, and it spurs me on to dance along the keyboards some more.

CS.