Hi there! This is Hyaci!

This fanfic is a Harry Potter fanfic, and mainly focuses on what the ENTIRE series would have been like if Hermione had been an orphan. I hope you guys enjoy it 333

Chapter 1: A Demonstration

Hermione Granger lay listlessly in her bed, completely oblivious as to the activities of the other inhabitants of Wool's Orphanage. Her bushy hair cushioned her head in place of a pillow- a luxury the orphanage was unable to provide to its residents. She supposed she should be grateful that she was fed and clothed her whole life by the dingy little orphanage, but in her eyes, she could only see the inadequacy.

On a whim, she sat up on her bed to see what the other children were doing. She could discern two large shapes- adults, she thought- beyond a small screen that separated the living quarters from the office of the orphanage's director. Probably someone that wanted to adopt. They'd go for the little ones- they always had. Older children, such as herself, were forever doomed to stay in the orphanage, until they were deemed old enough to take care of themselves.

From the corner of her eye, Hermione could see a Julianna Cabol- a tiny girl of no more than four or five years, sobbing quietly to herself over what appeared to be a brown cardboard box. This stoked her interest, and she raised an eyebrow. Shaking her head, Hermione slowly walked over to ask the younger girl what was the matter.

As she approached, she could clearly see what was wrong. In the brown cardboard box was a hamster- dead. Only, that wasn't all. The hamster's limbs had been dismembered, and due to the sheer amount of blood on the sides of the cardboard box, she could tell that it had happened while the poor creature was still alive.

"Julianna," Hermione spoke, her eyes full of concern. "Julianna, tell me what's the matter."

Julianna turned, tears still streaming down her face. "Hammy died, Hermione. One of the boys took him away from me and gave him back like this."

Hermione closed her eyes, feeling anger well up within her. She'd known full well that boys could be nasty if they wanted- she'd just thought that they had… morals, standards. Apparently, she'd been wrong.

She opened her eyes, and knew what she had to do. Her eyes flashed coldly, like steel. She held her hands out to the little girl before her. "Give me the box, Julianna."

Julianna's eyes widened, and she contemplated the prospect, before handing the corpse over to Hermione. The older girl would make things right- she always knew how to.

With the cardboard box in her hands, Hermione made the long, defiant march over to the boy's side of the room, separated from the girl's side by a collapsible partition. She looked at all of the boys, her eyes immediately drawn to a snickering one, surrounded by his friends. Immediately, she knew he was the culprit, and she galumphed over.

"Hello there," she said in a cheerily dangerous tone. The others stiffened to hear her voice. They were scared of her- as they well should be. She was the oldest in the orphanage, and she had ways of making them never forget it.

"Antony, what you did to Hammy wasn't very nice."

The boy decided to stand his ground. A stupid decision undoubtedly made to impress his friends. "It's just a stupid hamster. Go buy another one or something."

Hermione's eyes flashed. "I'm afraid you're only half right, Antony. Hammy isn't a stupid hamster, he's a very special hamster."

"A hamster is a hamster. There's nothing special about it."

"Oh, but, Hammy can do things," Hermione smiled.

"No he can't, he's dead."

Hermione's smile grew ever wider. "Would you like a demonstration, Antony? I'm sure Hammy would be glad to perform."

Slowly, the limbs of the dismembered hamster began to twitch. Suddenly, all the parts were hovering in the air, twirling round and round like a morbid carousel, even moving up and down as a carousel pony would. Hermione's smile continued growing as boys before her began to exhibit classic signs of fear.

And as suddenly as it started, it stopped. The limbs that had once whirled in the air madly like a carnival ride fell onto the boy's lap, still twitching as if the wished to soar once more.

"Unless you want to be punished, Antony, I suggest you buy Julianna a replacement hamster."

With the threat hanging thickly in the air like a shroud, Hermione turned around and walked back to the girls' side of the room. She sat down next to Julianna, and began to give her comforting pats on the back. She did not notice the old, white-bearded man dressed in long robes with twinkling blue eyes standing behind her till he spoke.

"That was most extraordinary, Miss Granger."

"I was always extraordinary," Hermione said without turning around. She did not ask stupid questions- such as how he knew her name. For sure, he learned it from the Orphanage director. Instead, she felt a surge of hope, and dared herself to ask the important question.

"Are you going to adopt me?" Her voice was tinged with hope.

The old man surveyed her for a few moments, before replying in his kind, pitying tone, "No, I am not."

If Hermione was disappointed, she didn't show it. Her face remained impassive, and she returned her attention to the younger girl beside her, resuming the daunting task of cheering her up. But Julianna was already asleep.

"Miss Granger," the old man chose his words carefully, "I'm not sure if you know, but you are… for the lack of a better word, different."

Hermione smiled a bitter, cynical smile that had no business on the face of an eleven year old. "How kind of you to point out the obvious."

The old man chose to ignore her caustic statement. "There are others like you, out there. People who are different."

Without turning around to face him, she asked in a quiet voice, "Are you one of them? Are you… like me?"

"Yes. I run a school, where others like you come to learn to control their abilities."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

The old man nodded, and then waved his hand at one of the beds. Slowly, the sheets began to rise up, given a ghostly shape. Then, as the old man dropped his hand, the sheet also dropped. The two were both quiet for a moment, then:

"Abilities, you say. I have these… abilities," Hermione said.

"Yes."

She turned around, and looked straight into his piercing blue eyes, without flinching or backing down. The old man before her felt a disturbing sense of déjà vu, but ignored it.

"What are the limits of these abilities, sir?"

"Call me professor Dumbledore."

Hermione's eyes began to twinkle in amusement, making Dumbledore feel as if he was looking into a mirror of sorts. "I haven't agreed to attend your school yet, Mr. Dumbledore."

He laughed heartily. "You're very sharp, Miss Granger," he chuckled. "Very well, we may discard my title for the moment. You may call me Albus."

"Albus Dumbledore, is that your name?"

"Yes."

"You must have been teased for having an odd name. As I was."

"Don't let it get to you, Miss Granger. The teasing will follow you your whole life."

Hermione paused, and then apprehensively changed the subject to something else she wanted to know. "Do you know who my parents were?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded. "I thought that might be the case." She closed her eyed briefly, as if pensive, and without opening them, asked another question. "Were they special, like me? Like us?"

The old man shrugged, and her shoulders sagged. She should have known that he wouldn't have the answer to everything. A part of her did believe- did hope that her parents were indeed as special as she was, but another part entirely knew all too well that is was just as likely, if not more, that they were as mundane as everyone and everything else that she knew.

"So you're here to offer me attendance to your school?" Hermione inquired.

"That is correct."

"I expect I'll need materials, but I'm afraid I haven't got enough money to buy any."

Dumbledore nodded his head sagely. "I figured you wouldn't. It doesn't matter; Hogwarts has a fund to provide for those who require financial assistance. You may have to purchase your spellbooks secondhand, but-"

"Spellbooks," Hermione breathed reverently. She looked straight at Dumbledore with a look, a look that made him wonder if he'd had this conversation before, if he'd met this young lady before, because her eyes glinted with a madness that was unshakably familiar to him.

Author's Note:I mainly wrote this story because I was sick of reading fanfics that downplayed Hermione's abilities to add to Harry's. I'm sorry, but half those fanfics out there write shit about her. I'm sick of reading that she can't do wandless/nonverbal magic because she can. I'm sorry, but Harry's not the only one that can.

That's not to say she'll be using it in this story. I'm planning to let her powers advance at a reasonable pace in this fanfic, because I really don't like characters that just BECOME overpowered.

She's starting as a first year right now so don't expect ANY of the characters to run around casting dark magic or nonverbal magic. The first year just didn't happen that way.

Also, I'd like to say that I'll be researching spells, so that, with luck, I WON'T have to make any up. Any facts/spells/histories I use here will be straight out of the Wikia page. And what I remember from the series.

So you've read, and now, please review! I'll try to respond to every signed review. I pwomise!