Hermione Granger knew she was different; just not to what extent.

There was the Sorting Ceremony, for one. She remembered that day, better than any others. It had been one of the most embarrassing days of her life. When all of the first years came into the castle for the first time, everyone was amazed and nervous. Everything was described perfectly in Hogwarts, A History, so she knew what to expect and was overly confident that she would get Sorted into Gryffindor or Ravenclaw (her top two favorite houses). When Professor McGonagall took out the Sorting Hat everyone was afraid to put it on. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to go first because of her last name starting with a G. She could show all of the other students that they shouldn't be scared, if she went first.

She would have bet money that she was the only student who knew what to expect. And of course all the children before her walked slowly up to the hat and trembled when it was placed on their heads. The first child Abbott, Hannah looked like she was going to throw up; she was Sorted into Hufflepuff, much to Hermione's distaste.

Hermione tapped her foot impatiently for several minutes. The Sorting went rather slow and she got so excited when Professor McGonagall called Granger, Hermione from her clipboard.

Hermione strutted with confidence as she walked up to the Sorting Hat, and all the other students watched her with skeptical eyes. She had an aura of power about her, and most of them felt intimidated. She grinned at their watchful eyes; she liked being the boss of other people and hoped to lecture them about how they should start reading more often to gain important knowledge for things they might need in the future. After all, she was the superior one at this moment for reading a delightful novel; all of the students could read, so it shouldn't be too hard for them to get smarter and be entertained at the same time.

Hermione remembered McGonagall telling her to take a seat on the stool and placing the tattered old Sorting Hat on her curly brown hair. She was so excited, and nearly fell of the stool in anticipation when the hat had begun to speak to her:

"Hermione Granger… A mind and intelligence set for Ravenclaw, but perhaps you may not do exceedingly well… You are brave like Noble Gryffindor. Yes I think that house will do you well. Yes- No Slytherin. You are pure and ambitious, cunning, sneaky, yes Salazar would be proud. No- Alas I have never had this hard of a decision. Perhaps you should be in…" The Hat couldn't make up its mind.

The Hat contemplated for thirty minutes before all of the students started getting antsy. The Professors tried to calm the impatient first years down, but even the children second year and above were starting to talk amongst themselves and they all wanted the feast to start already. Hermione was getting worried; according to Hogwarts, A History the longest Sorting for a single student took around fifteen minutes, and she was way past that point.

After several more minutes, some seventh year Slytherin students started laughing and making fun of her. Soon the rest of the houses started to join in, until everyone (including some first years) was laughing their heads off. Hermione started crying; why couldn't she get Sorted into a House already? Basically, all the Hat had to do was choose between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw; she didn't care which. She didn't know why it even considered Slytherin; it only took Halfbloods and up, and she was a Muggle-Born wizard. Hermione started crying, and tried to wish herself away from The Great Hall. Anywhere was better than there at that moment.

The Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, noticed her distress. He patted her shoulder and nodded his head to follow him. He escorted Hermione out of The Great Hall and up into his private office. She tried to dry her tears, but her cheeks were still red and tear stained.

"I'll talk to the Hat, don't worry. Which House do you want to be in? I'll see if I can make that happen," Dumbledore said kindly, his blue eyes twinkling in curiosity about this new student at Hogwarts. She was a special one.

"Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, I suppose. Either one is fine," Hermione said with a weak smile. She was about to start crying, again. What if she never got Sorted?

After a long conversation with the Hat, Dumbledore told Hermione that the Hat had finally decided to put her in Gryffindor; she knew he was actually persuading the hat to put her in that House, Gryffindor was his House after all.

Then, in second year, something truly messed up happened. She never told anyone about this, in fear of being labeled an even bigger freak than she already was; Harry was having enough problems with this as it was, and people were starting to get scared around him. Harry claimed he could hear voices around the school; so could Hermione. It had begun to scare her relentlessly every night. She thought someone was playing a really cruel joke on her. She almost went to the Headmaster about it, but later, she was thankful she kept it to herself. It wasn't until Harry and Draco Malfoy's duel that she really figured out everything.

Draco had summoned a snake, and Harry started talking to it. Everyone thought he was a freak and was looking at him in horror; everyone except for her at least. Why was everyone acting strange? He basically told the snake to back off and go away. What was the harm in that? Even Snape stared at Harry in disbelief. Everyone seemed off their rocker that day anyways, so she completely dismissed it from her mind. She never aspired to find out what the other students were thinking; all of them were crazy and needed some more brain cells.

When Harry, Ron, and her went back to the Common Room everyone ran away into the safety of their dormitories. Harry had no idea what was going on; neither had Hermione. Ron exploded saying that Harry was speaking Parseltongue, Salazar Slytherin and You Know Who's language. Harry was probably the Heir of Slytherin; that's why everyone was staying away from him. But, if she could hear and understand what Harry was saying that must have meant that she could speak Parseltongue, too. She suddenly began to get scared. What if she was the Heir of Slytherin? Wouldn't she know if she was attacking Muggle-Borns at school? How could she possibly be able to talk in the snake language when she was a Muggle- Born? Speaking Parseltongue came from Slytherin's bloodline; she wasn't related to him. Very few others, who had been dead for centuries, acquired that gift. Now it would be exceedingly rare to get passed down, if the gene had even survived that long. No one could have passed it down to her though.

Hermione was scared and, decided to pretend to be clueless like everyone else. She couldn't tell Dumbledore; it was just too big of a secret. Harry would be the best person to confide in, but he would just tell her to go to Dumbledore, and she just had the feeling that she shouldn't be telling him anything like that about her. Ron and everyone else would just think of her like a freak of nature. At least Harry had some reason to have that gift; he could have took some of it from Voldemort when he tried to kill Harry as a baby or gotten it from his father, who was a Pureblood wizard. Hermione… Well Hermione had no one. Her parents were as Muggle as a Muggle could get; definitely no magic blood in their family. Soon after summer break she forgot about the whole Parseltongue debacle, and just tried to focus on her studies.

In third year she decided to take way more classes than necessary. She signed up for everything and, was specially invited to take Occlumency and Legilimency (which she signed up for also). Everything was going great; sure she was stressed out, but she thought it would all be worth it in the end. The crazy thing was that she mastered Occlumency and Legilimency within a week. She could read people's minds and shield her own far better than skilled wizards who had been practicing for decades. The teacher was very impressed and alerted Dumbledore that she was ready to take her O.W.L.S as soon as possible. Hermione Granger was the only student to ever master two classes within a week, and the youngest student ever to take their O.W.L.S for two subjects. Luckily she got both Outstandings on them. That was certainly a day to remember.

Every Professor was impressed and congratulated her on her accomplishments; even Snape muttered a good job, much to Hermione's astonishment. The only person, who didn't say anything, was Dumbledore. Hermione assumed he didn't say anything because he was the Headmaster and could not play favorites with his students. I reality, Dumbledore was starting to get suspicious about her. He had heard rumors and he started to monitor her to see if it was true. He never found anything about her, though. He assumed she wasn't the person he was trying to look for, after all. After a long day of happiness and being congratulated, she retreated back to the dormitories to hopefully get some rest.

Rest? Yeah right. The Gryffindors hung a big picture of her on the wall and threw a rockin' good party in honor of her success. It was quite fun actually; Hermione wasn't the type of person to enjoy herself at parties. She even decided to be daring and try Ogden's Old Firewhiskey; something she would not ordinarily do. Towards the end of the party she suddenly came to her senses. What was going on with her? Why were her morals getting washed down the toilet? Hermione had vowed she wouldn't drink that until seventh year at the soonest. She was already drinking alcohol at thirteen years old for crying out loud!

She had really begun to question herself and her sanity. Why did weird things happen to her? Why was she suddenly getting the urge to break all of these rules? Eventually, she broke down and let her tears fall on Harry who tried to comfort her, the best that he could. She cried about everything that happened at the Sorting Ceremony first year and how she was starting to lose her mind this year. Harry understood what she was going through and let her lean on him. Hermione was careful not to mention anything about second year, where she could speak and understand Parseltongue. She suddenly remembered it, again.

Eventually, things started to get better forth year; for her at least. Nothing bad had happened to her, or anything odd like the previous years at Hogwarts. She was sad when Cedric Diggory died at the hands of Lord Voldemort and cried her heart out with the rest of the school. Things hadn't been fair for him, but at least they were getting better for her. Which as soon as she thought that she mentally scolded herself for disrespecting a boy who should not have died the way he did.

Hermione was just excited to get rid of fourth year and start fifth. She wanted to take the rest of the O.W.L.S. as soon as possible and start working ahead on the homework and notes. She had already read all of her textbooks three times and started working on the fourth time rereading them. Most of all she wanted to read and study in the library to her heart's content. Wizarding books entertained her much more than the one's at the Muggle library. She was so, excited that she was going back to Hogwarts the next morning; she had been packed for weeks waiting for the special day marked on her calendar.

O.o.O

3 months into the start of fifth year

"This may be a good book for you Mione," Ron said shyly. "I know you have been looking for something new to read. It's apparently about Secrets and Riddles During the Dark Ages of Voldemort."

Hermione smirked. Ron had only read the cover of the book. So typical for him; he needed to stop drinking and partying in his spare time. It was really killing his brain cells; that and never having any intelligence to begin with. Ron looked sheepish and willed her to accept the book. She knew he was only trying to help. She had finished all of the homework for the rest of the year and was bored all the time. For some reason, she never felt like going to the library. She could not find anything that interested her; everything that was cool was in the Restricted Section. She had read almost every single book that was open to all students without a teacher's permission.

"Thanks Ron, but I've never seen this book before. I have searched the library countless times for something new. Where did you find it?" Hermione grabbed the book from Ron's hands and looked at him skeptically.

"Erm… Well Dumbledore left it on a desk in Divination, when he was monitoring the class because you know Trelawnley is going to get sacked by Umbridge if he doesn't do anything about it. I was going to return it to him, honestly. But, then I found you in here, and I know you wanted something new and exciting to read. If Dumbledore likes it, you are bound to like it, too." Ron said and smiled.

"Well, thank you Ron. I really appreciate you trying to help me. Although, you are a Prefect Ronald, and you should not steal from a teacher; Professor Dumbledore, no less. He probably needs that book for something concerning Voldemort. Yes Ron, I said Voldemort. You really need to grow up," Hermione scolded.

"I think I hear Harry calling… err, something for the club meeting…" Ron said and ran off to the boy's dormitories, not wanting to hear another one of Hermione's boring lectures about how he should be more responsible and follow the rules.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. It was nice of Ron to help her out, but things were different between the three of them now. Ron was acting weird around her; he was always so clumsy and looked like he was embarrassed or something. He would always run off to Harry and have 'secret club meetings' as Harry liked to put it. They never let her join in on the 'secret club meetings' and, she felt like this was tearing their friendship apart. Apparently, Ron needed 'guy advice' and she wasn't allowed to know what that meant. She tried to pester them to tell her, but they always ignored her. She had begun to only talk to Harry once in a while and this was the first time she had spoken to Ron in a month.

Hermione decided not to dwell on the end of her friendship with the boys; it brought back too many memories, and she did not want to be reminded of all the good times they had had together. She flopped down on her favorite squishy arm chair in the Gryffindor Common Room and flipped through the Table of Contents to see what the chapters were about. After all, if Dumbledore thought it wasn't safe for students he wouldn't have brought it to a classroom full of them. So far, it seemed like it was going to be an interesting book. As she scrolled down the list of chapter names she saw one that was circled in red ink called The Lost Riddle. Her curiosity got the best of her and she flipped to that chapter. Obviously, someone (most likely Dumbledore) circled it for a reason. The chapter was very short; not even a full page (more like a paragraph), but, it must have been significant enough that the author had to include it in there. It read:

Sights were reported on the night of James and Lily Potter's death, Tom Riddle's favorite female Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange was seen smuggling a young girl who looked to be nearly the age of two. A captured Death Eater, who was close to Voldemort and his mistress, confirmed they did have a young daughter. She was their most prized possession, and only a few close Death Eaters even knew that he had a daughter, much less ever saw her. The baby disappeared on that night and was never seen again. No one knows if it was their daughter. The girl could have been a figment of an elderly wizard's imagination or another Death Eater child that they were trying to hide.

Hermione stared at the page for a long time. Did Voldemort really have a kid, and was Dumbledore looking for her? The girl must have been Hermione's age. She wondered whether this girl was still alive and went to Hogwarts. She could possibly know this girl. Who was it? Perhaps, it was one of the Slytherin girls.

Of course Hermione did the only Hermione-like way of figuring things out. She was going to go spy on them and try to give information to Dumbledore, if she found anything out.

O.o.O

Hermione wanted to begin her search for the lost Riddle girl immediately. She went down to the dungeons, in hope of seeing a Slytherin girl that was a fifth or sixth year (the Riddle girl could possibly be in the year ahead, if she was two years old).

When she heard footsteps, she retreated back behind an old statue and, held her breath. She peaked out from the corner and didn't see anyone there. She stopped holding her breath and muttered how that was a very close call for being able to hide in time.

"Granger, what the hell are you doing?" Draco Malfoy said to her from the side where she hadn't looked at. Hermione jumped and squeaked.

She was so shocked, that she just stared at him with an open mouth, not able to utter a single word.

"Are you deaf, Granger? I said what are you doing? You aren't spying on us Slytherins, are you? That would be a very unwise decision, and I'm surprised Potty and Weasel put you up to it. Isn't this a man's job?" Draco said amused at Hermione's reaction.

"For your information, Malfoy, I am not deaf. I also don't have to tell you anything I was doing or was going to do so, you can just-" Hermione screamed then collapsed onto the floor.

"Draco, please stop! It hurts! I, I will never come down here again! Just, please you're hurting me!" Hermione screamed and started sobbing.

"I, I'm not doing anything…" Draco said starting to get scared. What was going on with Hermione? If she was getting possessed or something he did not want to be anywhere near her.

"My arm it, it's on fire!" Hermione shouted. Tears fell down her rosy cheeks.

Draco looked at Hermione's arm and almost literally pooped his pants, "Oh, my freakin' Merlin!"

Hermione had a Dark Mark on her arm, and someone was calling for her.