She always hated it, their fool-hardy, stupid... Gryffindor-ness. Honestly, she thought they'd learn with age, but that hope seems to be no more than an errant fantasy in a silly girl's head. It seems they're meant to be stupid, just like every other fucking Gryffindor in the school.

Well, the Weasley twins are clever, but she isn't really supposed to admit that. She's a prefect, after all.

Sighing to herself, she looks back at her bedroom mirror.

Since this little realization at the beginning of the summer that her friends are completely useless (and possibly lethal for her), most of her notable features have started changing. Her hair has become a very light shade of blonde and much more manageable, and her eyes have lightened from brown to a pale green, lighter than a ghost's. Her cheekbones have become more pronounced, her chin a bit sharper, and her overall physique has become more willow-like, slender.

Her parents are under the impression she's spelling herself, but they don't say anything because anything done by magic can be undone just as easily, surely.

Still, their belief gives her free reign to come and go from Diagon Alley as she pleases, to research whatever it is that's happening to her.

Three weeks of combing through Flourish and Blott's hasn't brought up anything, but who knows.

Today she might get lucky.

-SOH-

The girl had been coming every day for the past few weeks, but hasn't managed to find what she's been looking for. Borealis Blott has left her be- if she really wants his help, she'll ask him- but when she comes in at the beginning of what he thinks is her fourth week, he gives in to curiosity and approaches her.

"Can I help you with anything, dear?"

She looks up at him with piercing eyes better fit for a corpse and offers a partly relieved and partly hopeless smile.

"I'm looking for an explanation to the symptoms I've been having over the last month," she tells him. "And none of the books on magical diseases have been able to help me."

"Perhaps I can be of service, then," he tells her with a smile. "Would you like to list the symptoms? Or are they of a more, personal, nature?"

She flushes and shakes her head.

"No, nothing like that. I've just- over the summer, my hair's gone lighter, and my eyes- they used to be brown. The shape of my face has changed, as well as my body- I've shrunk three inches in the last three weeks. I already checked myself for any sort of spells or potions, and come up with nothing. So I was thinking it could be, I don't know, some sort of condition?"

Borealis gives her a sympathetic look.

"Have you had any groundbreaking epiphanies lately?" He asks. "Any sudden changes in thought or routine? Have you gained or lost any acquaintances?"

"I..." She pauses. "I've been... I've been thinking about how... How my friends are never going to learn. How they're no good for me."

His sympathy only grows.

"People with old blood will do that sometimes," he tells her. "A truth will turn out false, or something important will change, and because of the strength of their magical cores, it will be reflected physically. I have a book all about it at my other shop."

"But I don't have old blood," Hermione says, eyes wide. "I'm a Muggleborn!"

Borealis pauses. "Really? You look like one of the Black women, in my opinion."

She gapes at the man. "I- really?"

"Well, they are known for their ghost eyes, and a good half of them are blonde..." He trails off, gaze speculative. "But I might be wrong. Still, I think you ought to do some reading. Who knows, you might find something useful."

Hermione nods, resigned to a few more weeks of fruitless search. "Could I have the address of the other shop and the name of the book?"

"The book's called 'The Pains of a Pureblood', by Claudia Blishwick, and the shop is right down Knockturn Alley on the right- now, don't give me that look. There are plenty of decent folk down there, despite it's reputation. No one'll hurt you unless you give them cause."

"I- alright. Well, thank you, Mr. Blott," she says with a dip of her head. "Thank you for helping me."

Borealis smiles. "Anytime. Come back soon, miss."

She smiles and slips out the door of the shop, leaving the shopkeeper to return to his place at the register.

He hopes she finds what she's looking for.

-SOH-

Knockturn isn't so bad, really. Sure, it's dark, and maybe a little dirty, but it's no worse than some of the neighborhoods she's wandered in Muggle London. Still, she moves quickly through the streets, head high and steps swift until she reaches the the recommended bookshop.

'Borealis and Lemuel's Books: Everything You Need To Know and More'

It was the nicest building on the whole street, and the best lit, so with no qualms Hermione slips inside, shutting the door behind her.

"Hello, dear. How can I help you?"

She looks to the register to see a kindly-looking man with a shock of blue hair and a tall, gaunt figure.

"Hello," she greets. "I was sent here by Mr. Blott? He told me the book I needed would be here."

"And what was the title of the book, Miss...?"

"Granger, sir. The book was called 'The Pains of a Pureblood', by Claudia Blishwick."

"Ah, I did like that one. Very informative." Lemuel smiles. "Well, follow me then, Miss Granger, and we'll get you all fixed up."

He leads her between tall, rickety shelves, stuffed with books that catch her attention with titles like 'Wandless Magic and How To Use It: Putting Theory Into Practice' and 'Natural Magic: Uses For the World Around You'. Everything seems interesting and practical and Hermione can't recall for the life of her ever seeing anything half so interesting on the Hogwarts library shelves.

"Here we are, dear." Lemuel's voice jerks her out of her reverie, and she smiles at the book offered to her.

"Thank you, sir."

"You can have a look around, if you like. There are plenty of useful books that might interest you lying around here."

Hermione chuckles. "I've never seen any books like these," she tells him. "And a lot of them just seem so interesting."

"Of course they are. Most of them would be categorized as 'Dark'," Lemuel says easily. "As though there really is such a thing."

Hermione blinks. "You... You don't believe in Dark and Light?"

"Not particularly- they're just names for techniques, after all. The main difference between the two sides is emotion." Lemuel looks her over with dark blue eyes. "What most people call Light Magic is really just magic you can control without any sort of emotion- just an exercise of your will does the trick. Dark Magic needs emotion to work at all. Anyone can tell you that."

"I don't think I understand."

"Take... Let's say Crucio, for instance." He waves a hand absently over his head. "In order to cast it, you need to have enough emotion to want to see your target in pain. If you just cast it, it won't have the same effect, the same as all the other 'Dark' spells." He sighs. "The problem is, a lot of people haven't got a good handle on their emotions, and they end up going mad because they can't balance out the good and the bad."

Hermione chews her lip thoughtfully. "I suppose I can understand that, but, what about things like the Unforgivables? You don't consider the Killing Curse a Dark spell?"

"It's the kindest way to kill someone in a fight, in my opinion," Lemuel tells her bluntly. "For instance, Incendio is a Light spell, and yet if it is used against a human, it burns its target alive. No, I'd prefer to be hit by the Killing Curse, if I had to be hit at all."

Hermione nods and hums, turning over her thoughts with the curiosity of a cat.

"You're taking this well," Lemuel remarks. "At least, for someone who strikes me a Light witch."

She smiles ruefully. "A few months ago I probably wouldn't be so calm," she admits. "But a lot has changed, recently, and I've been thinking I ought to broaden my horizons a bit."

"I understand completely." Lemuel gestures at the shelves. "Have a look around. Tell me if you see anything you like."

Hermione nods. "Thank you. I think I will."

She ends up spending four hours and three quarters of her money in the little store before bidding Lemuel a good weekend and heading home.

After all, she had some reading to do.

-SOH-

The Change is a rare but not unheard of stage of magical maturation, seen only in pure- and halfblood children. It is believed to be triggered by the beginning of the alignment of morality and magic within the child, and usually prematurely begins the physical changes necessary for the subject to better control its magical core and begin the process of finding a fitting partner. The Change is only observed in wizards and witches of exceptional power.

-Claudia Blishwick, The Pains of a Pureblood, Chapter Fourteen, page 196

-SOH-

Hermione sighs and sits back in her chair, rubbing at her face with long, spidery fingers she doesn't remember having before.

This might... This might actually have some merit. Which means she's... She's not a Muggleborn.

She feels oddly... relieved, by that. Which is strange, because she's always been proud of being a Muggleborn.

But maybe that was because she didn't have a choice to be something better.

Hermione shakes her head, trying to clear it.

She needs to do something else. Maybe start one of the other books she'd gotten...

Yes, that sounds like a fantastic idea. Easy reading is exactly what she needs.

-SOH-

"Good morning, Miss Granger. I wasn't expecting to see you here again so soon."

"Good morning, Lemuel." Hermione smiles warmly. "I was in Diagon to pick up a few potions ingredients and thought I'd stop by again- I've already read everything I bought on Friday."

Lemuel's eyes widen considerably. "Really?"

She nods. "Mhm. Do you by any chance have any books on Pureblood history? I'm doing a bit of research."

"Granger isn't a pureblood name," Lemuel remarks as he rises to help her.

She nods, looking a hesitant.

"I- well, what I seem to be experiencing only ever happens to people with pure blood," she tells him. "I bought most the ingredients for a Blood Reveal potion, but I'm missing a few key ingredients, and then I need to rent out a space somewhere where I can brew the potion. Since I can't do it in a Muggle couple's home..."

"If you can find those ingredients, you can always brew the potion in my back room," Lemuel offers. "I can sell off the extra, and you can pay for the space that way."

"Really? That would be amazing, thank you." She smiles, then sighs.

"I still have to find dried dragon tears and acromatula saliva, though," she admits frustratedly. "There Class A Tradeable Items."

"You seem like a clever girl," Lemuel tells her, running a finger along the spines of a dozen books before tugging out a heavy green volume and handing it to her. "I'm certain you can find the right connections."

"I hope so." She takes the book and looks up hopefully.

"Have you got anything special?" She asks. "Something you think would interest me?"

Lemuel chuckles. "I might have a few things. Come on. I'll show you."

Hermione follows him happily into the aisles.