To All the Voices

Hi, hello, I am NovaMe and welcome to my revamped take on an SI!

Yes, I came all this way just to say my old version of Thin Ice's first chapter was more or less trash because I couldn't continue it in chapter two. And not to mention, it was so long ago, it was outdated and cringey - sorry for everyone who loved and favored my story because of it but my worst critic is myself and I said nope. Plus, I got a complete idea change for the character.

So we're starting over again~

It's been a long time since I've written on here but here we go because of COVID. I've come to notice that there are so many SI's (not really, pls refer me some good ones) and OC's that are the sibling of Harry, Draco, Sirius and Regulus, James, or so on, but I have yet to come by one that is a Hermione's sibling story. So I'm testing it out. Also, most of the characters are not based off the movie adaptation of them, and I gave Hermione's parents a different look and personas but they're still dentists.

Also, because again, this is for my leisure, I'm a full-time employee who is trying to eventually get into grad school. I might not update often, who knows? But I'll do my best to get you guys content to read!

Hope you enjoy this word vomit.

Disclaimer: Anything or anyone you recognize, I don't own it - J.K. Rowling does. The only one who belongs to me is Nemesis.

Summary: In the books, Hermione Granger was the courageous one, the orderly one, the perfectionist. Now … well, she's practically the same. Except she has a sister, me. And okay, that changed a couple of things for the both of us. SI-OC

Chapter 1: Rebirth at Its Not-So-Finest

I remember that I was absolutely terrified of dying.

I wasn't keen on the idea of the black void that would follow death - the lack of feeling and light, that was all terrifying. I liked being alive, thank you very much. I didn't have the worst of lives, and sure, I had my share of bad experiences, the several broken bones, and a lot of crying on my part but I liked being alive overall. I liked seeing the light, being around people, laughing, and … well, just overall existing.

At the age of twenty-two, I had hoped that I wouldn't have had to experience death any time soon.

But it happened, of course, because I wouldn't be here talking about it otherwise. And it happened so fast.

I had been driving up to a cabin for winter retreat, a last hurrah before us graduating seniors left the choir. I was the last one to leave because of work and had been driving up carefully at night. But despite having put chains on my front wheels, the back wheels of my car had lost control over ice when I had been making a turn up in the mountains, dragging my car over the edge. I was falling, and then there was pain, so much stabbing pain.

At the time, all I could think was that I was going to see the black void that I have always dreaded. Sure enough, when my car broke through the ice of the lake below, I did. Just … not the way I thought I would.

See, I had expected the black void of nothingness or at least a montage of my life's finer moments just as I died, absolutely anything that everyone assumed marked the end of your life.

But like all things I expected in life, that didn't happen.

Instead, the stabbing pain I felt before had dulled to a soreness and the darkness I saw, was tinged red and I could hear a muffled chaos. Almost instantly, I felt the oddest sensation of being pulled through a tunnel. Well, if the tunnel was a regular straw and I was a piece of boba (you know, those little balls at the bottom of tea, kind of like a gummy candy - you know what, never mind. Just never mind). The feeling was very uncomfortable and made me aware of nerves I never knew existed in my body.

And as quick as the feeling came, it disappeared. Replaced by a freezing pain and soreness that I was completely unfamiliar with. Everything hurt annoyingly so, I couldn't stop whining and squirming, trying to get comfortable in between something that was strangely warm despite the frigid … air?

And with waterlogged ears, I could vaguely hear a "congratulations ... a girl…."

I tried opening my eyes then (with eyelids that were heavier than ever) trying to see what was going on - to see if someone had saved me from imminent death, but the world was terribly blurry. Whether by my own tears or because I was actually blind, I wasn't sure. Everything was a white blue until I was moved - ...handed … off?

And soon I was staring up at an awed pair of blue eyes.

One moment, I was wondering why this lady was tired and huge and staring at me so strangely. And in the next, came the sinking feeling.

I was a baby again.

At least screaming was the sign of a healthy baby.

.

I was reborn on December 31st, 1978 as Nemesis Jane Granger to Nathan and Adeline Granger.

….

Yeah, I thought the same thing.

From what my new parents told everyone who would ask, they had wanted to give me a smart name. One that only smart people would understand - the Greek Goddess of Retribution and what have you - but I think they were forgetting that there were more stupid people in world than there were smart people.

On my part, I was a bit more bothered by the fact that I wasn't going to find my name on keychains or coke bottles yet again.

And to rub salt on that wound, after I eventually figured out my clumsy baby body, I came to realize that I was blind again. Because of course, it would make things too perfect to be reborn and given perfect eyesight or a recognizable name.

Now I had to wait years before I could get glasses and deal with teachers hesitating on roll call when they got to my name.

Overall, I was a healthy baby. I was Nathan and Adeline's first child and they loved me fiercely. From the moment I was born, they both had looked at me with such awe and adoration, and I could only be thankful I had them for parents. Even if Adeline was a bit clumsy and Nathan was a bit standoffish, they had doted on me fiercely despite my unusual sulkiness that they didn't seem to notice. Granted in my first month, I probably still looked like a red raisin so they probably couldn't register any moodiness.

The bigger I got, it seemed that neither minded my demeanor either, everyone simply said that I was "completely Nathan's child".

Whenever my new grandparents would come around, they unnecessarily reassured Adeline that Nathan had been a quiet baby, a sign of his future quiet and standoffish behavior. It was something she would wave off and say it wasn't a problem and then she would pinch my cheeks and say I was the cutest version of Nathan she'd ever seen. She had a habit of holding me up to mirrors, and while I couldn't see well, I was able to piece together my own face. The only thing I seemed to have gotten from Adeline were her blue eyes, but the rest was Nathan. We shared the same olive skin tone, the slightest upturned nose, and I had the beginnings of his angular eyebrows. And while I had been born with light hair, it had darkened considerably over the months until I finally had Nathan's dark wavy hair.

It had been a running gag that Nathan had been the one and only person to give birth to me, and Adeline loved every minute of it.

I considered myself lucky. I had an excuse to be constantly upset and dwell on the fact that I died when I was about to graduate and that I would never see my original family again. No matter how many times I wished this to be a bad dream, it just was not happening. In the end,I had to accept that I died and that least I was lucky to live out a different life. That didn't make it any happier, though.

I knew I would learn to love Adeline and Nathan who loved me even before I was reborn, but I could never give them the happiest child or person I had been in my last life. The only thing I could do is try for them - let's just not forget how hard it is to try when you've actually died.

So I did try. I made an effort for Adeline who would blow on my belly or sing silly songs for me, to laugh and smile when she wanted me to, even if I couldn't do it all the time especially considering her British accent. I tried for Nathan who would only stick his fingers in my face because he wasn't sure what to do with babies, but something within him changed when I gripped his fingers in my little hands.

It wasn't the most perfect situation, but I would have to learn how to be a child (baby?) for them, because I lived my life already but these two were expecting to raise a child. How could I deny them that happiness?

….

Of course … they never noticed my resolve, apparently I was too much of Nathan's daughter to have anything else expected of me.

At least it gave me leeway.

As the months went by, I came to completely accept my situation even if being an adult in a child's body was difficult. Soon enough, the biggest things for me to dread was, again, being the name stall on roll call, (hopefully not) coke-bottle glasses again, and having to start puberty … again.

Even when I came to find that Adeline was pregnant again, almost immediately after she had me.

Even when she was blowing up like a balloon.

Even when we found that the baby was coming a bit earlier than it was supposed to.

Even when Nathan brought me into the delivery room to meet my new sibling.

Not once did I come to notice anything strange or different. But then I probably just wasn't focusing enough back then.

For I soon came to realize why and had other things to dread about when Adeline introduced me to my new little sister.

Hermione Jean Granger.

Hermione. Jean. Granger.

I was in the Harry Potter world.

And then I had many things to dread.

At least Adeline and Nathan thought my newfound quietness was a silent protest to having a baby sibling.

In reality, I just…. I couldn't stare at Hermione and think.

Think because suddenly it wasn't just an unusual name or (hopefully not - you don't understand how much I'm really hoping for not) coke bottle glasses on the horizon, there was also a young Harry Potter who had a target sign on his back that would evolve from 'kick me' to 'kill me.' Not to mention the mass murderer and his minions who hated people like Hermione and I on principle and a huge war, but we... get there when we get there.

I was still a bit more focused on the fact that my little sister was Hermione Granger.

The sweet little baby who opened her eyes to meet mine when our father (note the our - I was sharing a father with Hermione Granger - I'm sorry I'm still mind blown) brought me to the delivery room and would eventually be bunked in my room, wanting for me to climb into her crib. That darling little girl who had a mass of caramel ringlets sprouting from her head from the moment she was born; sharing all our mother's coloring and features except with Nathan's brown eyes. This tiny little person whose eyes would follow me everywhere the moment I started crawling….

It was a bit bittersweet to look at her now and think that she was the very person who would follow Harry Potter so loyally into war because they were best friends while I would one day be pulling my hair out because I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I didn't even know what I was supposed to do now.

This whole situation made me so nervous and jumpy for a good couple of years in this life. I just had so many questions once she was born (I was so focused, in fact, I didn't notice a tiny little itsy-bitsy detail of my life). My new little brain was just swamped with questions. What if I was a muggle and Hermione was the only one with magic? What if she wasn't? What would I do if I go to Hogwarts? What if I didn't? What about our parents? There was a never ending list of questions that my toddler/child body would begin to cry out of stress.

It was those moments where I was thankful for Nathan. He may not have had magic, he always seemed to have a sixth sense that was attuned to the many moods packed into my tiny body and began to distract me with everything he could. It was the month following Hermione's birth that he truly bonded with me as a parent. As a twenty-two year old mentally, I'm not proud to say it, but I clung to that.

(And again, not once did I notice anything out of the ordinary - apart from this rebirth situation.)

I liked to think it was because Nathan didn't remind me of the characters described in the books. Perfectly and ordinarily unremarkable. I could only hope to gain that type of trait from him as I grew up.

Of course, that wasn't to be.

The months that followed Hermione's birth came to show that I was possibly … remarkable for lack of a better word.

My hair began to, well, lighten. Shortly after my birth, my hair had darkened to Nathan's color, a cool dark color and that was normal! But after Hermione … my hair began to lighten that by December, it was a strangely pale wheat color. Adeline and Nathan were befuddled by it as much as I was, how could my hair have turned so drastically and over the course of a month.

The only explanations I had for it was that Hermione had unknowingly changed my hair or maybe even I had magic - I mean, come on, I died and was reborn, if that's not magical, I'm not sure what is (oh boy, if only I knew then). I couldn't test the theory either because Hermione was too young and I had absolutely no idea how to use magic.

Either way, Adeline had fun dressing me in clothes that complimented my hair color. And Nathan, even if he did frown at my hair color, didn't change otherwise, which was comforting in that of itself since he was such a standoffish guy. As for myself … I wasn't sure how to explain it, but I felt … happier when I had my lighter hair…. (This stumped me for the longest time, I can assure you.)

By March, my hair had begun to darken again. A pattern that would continue for years to come we eventually came to find. It would become a novelty for our relatives to always comment on and my parents would shrug at because it didn't register on their radar anymore since they couldn't figure out why my hair kept changing.

Like they also couldn't figure out the strange things that happened around Hermione.

Unfortunately for me, Hermione's first biggest show of accidental magic happened when she was two and adamant about following me out of our playpen. I had developed a habit of climbing out of my crib and playpen the moment I was able to walk, usually when I was sure Hermione was asleep (Heavens forbid her from getting my habits before I even decided what I was going to do about our futures). One day, she finally caught me, and rather than throwing a huge fuss and getting me caught, she wanted me to teach her how to climb over too.

How could I say no to her big brown doe-like eyes?

I climbed back down and had begun climbing out again, trying to show her in our baby language how to climb over. And when I had gotten to the top of the playpen wall … well the playpen wall decided to disappear and my chin made contact with the edge of the playpen.

After one trip to the hospital later (a lot of crying between Adeline, Hermione, and I, and Nathan actually rushing through the hospital doors after leaving work early in a panic), we all made it back home in one piece and I then sat on the plush carpet with my wrapped up head, staring down a bright eyed and giggly Hermione.

Like she didn't just have snot and tears running down her face two hours before.

That was when reality settled in for me. (It would've settled a lot earlier had I noticed before.)

This didn't change anything between Hermione and I. Although I was dreadfully aware of the future that laid ahead of us, I would never deny Hermione a sibling. I had made myself try for Nathan and Adeline, and I would make myself try for Hermione, it was the very least I could do. So again, nothing changed and we continued to be relatively close sisters.

She continued to follow me around and copy the things I did. Crawling, standing, talking, walking, reading, writing - even if she was younger, she desperately wanted to be on the same level as I, she aimed higher than expectations and stubbornly kept at things until she got it. Just because she wanted to be right beside me.

Of course, this caused shit to hit the fan the moment I began primary school - she was definitely not happy with that, mind you.

But we managed.

While I dealt with a clingy sibling for the entirety of my adolescence, I also spent a great deal of time with Nathan.

That's not to say I didn't spend a lot of time with Adeline, because I always did, but with Nathan things were different. I came to realize that he was actually a very mischievous parent, one that someone could only see as children got older. He was very playful with me, willing to get on hands and knees to entertain me whenever I fell into mood lapses, and as I grew, so did his distractions and his smirk because he found it amusing.

He wanted to make Hermione and I active children. Be it kicking a soccer ball, batting a baseball, swimming, even flying a kite, he wanted us to be active children. It didn't stick too much to Hermione because the moment she learned how to read, she was in all sorts of books - on the contrary, I had sulked for weeks because neither Nathan, Adeline or the librarians would let me get passed the children's section (like I wasn't reading the eighth edition of Organic Chemistry just years ago). So of course, I became his active child.

And I took to all his activities … with the coordination, or lack thereof, of a baby panda because whoever allowed my rebirth apparently decided to not allow me an ounce of physical coordination either. But I kept at it.

"Nathan, she's going to hate me." Adeline had once whined, having watched as I face-planted after swinging a bat. "She has my hand-eye coordination, or lack thereof."

Nathan rolled his eyes, lifting me up. "Oh no she won't, Love. She'll be too busy trying to hit the ball before she can hate anyone." He wasn't wrong, I really started hating the ball after a while.

I suppose all this exercise was one of the reasons I got an answer to some of my original questions and thus progressed to my next dilemma.

The next important phase of my life started when I was seven - and before you ask, yes … I ended up getting coke bottle glasses.

It was the only time I ever threw a tantrum in this life and Nathan had enough of my shit.

Er- anyways, it happened during winter break.

At that point, I was already in Year 2 at school and Hermione trailed behind me in Year 1. We couldn't say school was great because it wasn't. I knew things way beyond learning basic math and words, and Hermione ate textbooks for breakfast so we were a little too advanced for primary school. Just like in the books, Hermione's intellect isolated her from other children who weren't like her at all and didn't fancy playing with 'know-at-alls'. As for me, I was an adult in the body of a child, there's only so much childish attitudes I could put up with - and I was perfectly content with Hermione. And yes, I got a lot of comments on my hair and glasses. Children suck.

Adeline worried for us, Nathan was more content that his girls were at the top of the class. Again.

For what was going to be my eighth birthday, Adeline and Nathan took us far away from Hampstead for a winter getaway, to France to visit Nathan's grandparents.

Yes, apparently the reason why Hermione visited France in the books, was because she had relatives in France. Because Granger is a surname of English and French origins.

I was absolutely fascinated.

Mémé and Pépé were sweet, definitely in their 70's, and had fun showing us how to play instruments around their house that Pépé had collected. Surprisingly (or maybe unsurprisingly) enough, Hermione showed an affinity for the piano and I favored the guitar, not that it was relevant but I enjoyed these small things all the same.

It had happened in the morning, Nathan had woken me up for a day out. He had wanted to go hiking, to uphold tradition, something that he and his cousins would do when visiting their grandparents.

And so we went while Adeline and Hermione slept the early morning away.

We went to the hiking trail just ten minutes away, and it wasn't too difficult of a trail. Or at least it wouldn't have been had I been in my old body. I often tripped or stumbled in this smaller body and I kept stubbornly refusing Nathan's help to keep me upright. At least until we got a couple miles in. Then I asked for help.

Nathan had a huffed a chuckle, and lifted up for a piggyback ride.

That, my friends, was when I noticed it.

"I've never seen a two-legger lift their young like that."

"Really? You haven't been out to the frozen water then. Two-leggers lift their young over the snowbanks every now and then if they're too little."

Voices. There were voices in the seemingly empty forest.

I whipped my head around, looking behind us for any possible human that could've said that. It was much too early and cold for too many to venture out on the trail unless they were exercising, and even then Nathan had said the trail was only used by the neighborhood which was full of elderly people.

"Nems?" Nathan asked, looking over his shoulder, trying to see what had frightened me.

But there was nothing … just trees and snow.

"Oh, I wonder what frightened the little one."

"The little ones are easier to scare, they're too young to have any way to defend themselves."

Nope. Nope. "Papa, I heard someone." I told him immediately, wrapping my arms tighter around his shoulders.

Nathan frowned, turning so that I was behind him while he surveyed the area. And everything was quiet for a moment.

"What do you think they heard?"

I scrambled, pointing in the direction I heard the voice. "There, Papa!"

And we stared at a tree about eight feet away from us. I was ready for someone to launch out of the trees and to come swinging at us; that was enough for me to shut my eyes tight. But nothing happened. It was only when I felt Nathan's tense shoulders drop in relief and heard him let out a chuckle that I peeked my eyes open.

"It's not a someone, Nems, it was a couple of someones." He said, kneeling so I could get off. Like that was literally any better.

I clung to his jacket but he stayed down, resting his arms on his knees.

"Ah, the two-legger spotted us. Should we go back in to hibernate?"

I frowned, peering out from behind Nathan to see what he could see. And there in front of us, were literally the two chunkiest and biggest squirrels I'd ever seen- which was really not that big but still.

"Just a moment, I want to see what they do before we go back to sleep. The two-legger might just like to see our kind." One of the squirrels chattered.

My eyes had widened almost comically.

Yes. That is correct.

One of the squirrels literally opened its mouth to say those words.

My jaw dropped.

Of course, Nathan didn't see my reaction at all. "Nems, look. They're Alpine Marmots." He said, nodding over to the two. "I'm surprised they're out right now. They're supposed to be hibernating."

I stared. The fatter marmot stared back.

"The little one looks afraid of you." The other one chirped.

This was just too - "You talk!" I exclaimed, gesturing to their tiny mouths.

At that they stood straighter and Nathan turned his head towards me with raised eyebrows.

"Did - did the little one just-"

"You - I understand you!" I kept exclaiming, taking a step forward towards them.

The thinner one kept turning its head between me and its friend. "By my nose, do you hear it?"

"I can hear you, I heard you this entire time!" I gestured to the two of them frantically.

"Nemesis?"

I whipped my head back to Nathan who stared at me with wide eyes, then at my mouth, and then at the Marmots - the skinnier one coming closer despite the protests of the fatter one, and then back to me.

"Nemesis," Nathan tried again with a small hesitance. "Say something for me, love."

I grimaced, "like what, Papa?"

He continued to stare, and then turned to the thinner Marmot who stopped not too far away, staring at us curiously. "Now … talk to him."

I turned, looking at the small creature nervously. "I think - I think they can understand me too."

"They?" The Marmot shook his little nose. "Do you mean us, little one?"

I nodded. That the second time in my life, I heard Nathan whisper, "oh my god."

Needless to say, the rest of that day, Nathan had taken me to absolutely every place that had a multitude of animals, from the pet store to the zoo, he took me to every place he could think of and had me speak to every animal. The entire time, the two of us had been in states of surreal shock. Nathan for the fact that he had a daughter who's hair not only decided to do it's own strange things but that could speak to animals. And well, me because it suddenly explained why I only ever heard voices, voices over the sounds of animals.

That was the moment I realized how eerily quiet my life was until I heard the voices of animals and creatures.

By the end of the day, Nathan was the one to tell Adeline, who looked at me with new curious eyes, and Hermione, who, of course, couldn't stop asking me questions and just seemed to marvel completely at my abilities.

I have never squealed or will ever, but I mentally shrieked with excitement.

While I may not do the same magical things as Hermione does, I had magic. A magic that was heavily focused on animal interaction and what not but it was magic, nonetheless. I could understand creatures on a level that most, if not all, people did not understand. At most, only Parselmouths would be able to understand what I felt - looking at creatures and speaking to them.

Soon after that moment on the hike, I was capable of controlling other aspects of magic that had to do with creatures - essentially magically calling forth animals in a way that I suspected Serpensortia or Avis did or just small traits like furs or feathers. I was able to see through the eyes of muggle animals for short periods of time - as I hadn't had access to magical animals. And as creepily like Tom Riddle this sounded like, I was able to coerce animals, get them to do things per request, learn about the world from them- not that muggle creatures were all that … errr - well, they were simple.

Adeline and Nathan were unsure of what they were supposed to do. This was a balant show of magic, whereas Hermione's had been subtle - to them at least. They didn't know if I needed anything special or if they had to do anything special at all. To my surprise, it was Mémé who answered their questions.

"Why do anything at all?" She asked them in french when she ran her hands through my hair. "She is your child, you raise her as you have and change to what she personally needs. But would suggest keeping it quiet … to the wrong people, hearing voices might be a sign for special services."

I think that was when Adeline and Nathan felt a lot better and understandably cautious about the situation. They still didn't quite understand my magic and to an extent, Hermione's - who by the way, was having loads of fun watching me call different animals to our home in Hampstead or any other location we traveled to, but they were much more receptive to the strange things we did. Even finding a lot of wonder in our magic despite keeping us quiet on these abilities outside of home.

I know what you're thinking, that everything was going to be alright. Perfect, even. That I had two perfectly loving parents and Hermione and I were the closest sisters.

Yeah, well, no.

If anything this made me more anxious. I couldn't tell you how many times I had frosted my room over thinking about what this meant at night.

While yes, I was obviously elated to have magic, I wanted it all my last life and had been sitting on pins and needles waiting to see if I had it in this one.

However, this meant I was going to enter the wizarding world once I was eleven. I was going to go to Hogwarts, inevitably meet Harry Potter, get sucked into the messes that they get into for six years, and have to fight a war at the end of it as per the books. And that was where my dilemma began if I was honest.

I suppose logically, I should want to change the storyline - protect my sister to the best of my ability because I just knew she was going to befriend Harry. To be her protector and what not, to save all the characters I had loved and cried for when I read the books. But that was the problem … I had made my peace with the deaths of all those characters. I accepted that those characters were going to die when they did. And not to mention that my sister is one of the survivors from the war at the end of it, without my assistance.

I didn't have to do anything because I knew she survived. So to take a risk and try to change things when I already knew the outcome of the safest route?

It wasn't that hard to make a decision to be as removed as possible - as much as I could be while still being a good sister to Hermione. After all, I had animals and creatures to distract me.

….

If only it was that easy to keep to a decision when quite frankly real life is different than novels.

But you know what? At least I was going to get a peaceful first year to enjoy Hogwarts and the magical world peacefully. At least one year.

So on the seventh of January, 1990, when there was a knock at the door, I wasn't surprised. I had dashed (fell) down the stairs, causing a flurry of feathers to poof out when I got to the bottom.

"Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Granger? My name is Minerva McGonagall. Is your daughter, Nemesis Granger here?"

I was ready.

Kind of.

.