Author's Note: None of this belongs to me, because unfortunately, I did not have the forethought to come up with the Harry Potter series. Also, this will be extremely AU. I promise to put the characters back where they belong when I'm done. (Also, this is a sort of prologue.)

Hermione Granger was a very practical sort of girl.

Her parents had always said so, and her teachers had always agreed. A bookworm, a bit of a know-it-all, but above all, practical.

She'd learnt everything she possibly could about Hogwarts. It was a brand new world that opened to her inquisitive brain. Magical theories bubbled in her thoughts, and she found herself whispering scraps of spells under her breath, guiltily hiding the sparks at her fingertips and hoping nobody would notice the pencil floating above her fingers.

It was in books she found her heart's desires laid bare, the laws of magical theory and the frontiers that had yet to be blazed. The hypotheses went over her head as she poured through third-year theoretical texts, but she couldn't deny the thrill of knowledge. Only a scant summer lay between her and the halls of Hogwarts, and she was determined to learn as much as she possibly could.

It was in books as well she learnt what some witches and wizards thought of Muggleborns like her. "Mudbloods" they were called, according to a faint scribble in the margin, in the middle of a splotch of what looked like tears. Hermione didn't understand at first, but then she could. It was the same in the Muggle world, really. If you were different in the ways that the world thought counted-you were anathema.

"I'll show them all," she vowed to herself. Fierce words for a frizzy-haired girl with buck teeth and rumpled, too-big clothing, but she meant them.

She'd skimmed over the Sorting system at Hogwarts at first, more intent on learning what magic actually was than what her new school would be like. But as September first drew nearer, Hermione poured over that, too.

She wouldn't be happy in Slytherin, she decided straight off. Not that she wasn't ambitious or clever, but it looked like a House made for stuck-up purebloods. They would have a field day tormenting her. She had no desire to repeat her primary school days.

Gryffindor drew her, but at the same time, repelled her. She wanted to believe that she was brave, but she wasn't foolhardy. Godric seemed to favour both.

Ravenclaw sounded just her speed, really. Learning for the sake of learning. The pursuit of knowledge above all. It was fascinating, and Hermione spent more time on that chapter than any other.

To Hufflepuff, she paid scant attention. It didn't sound bad. She just wasn't very interested in it, really. It sounded pleasant, but where was the challenge? Hermione wanted to be the best. How could Hufflepuff House get her there?