Hermione Granger was, at this moment, quite pleased with herself.
Which was a big improvement, because only minutes earlier, she'd been feeling an overwhelming sense of dread.
The trouble had started the day Professor McGonagall showed up at her house. Right there, in front of her very normal, very non-magical parents, the stern woman had demonstrated a few casual bits of Transfiguration and Hermione's worldview had promptly crumbled.
She'd always believed in science, in logic, in Newton and Darwin. But science had a rule: If it exists, it's real.
And now she had to accept that magic was very, very real.
Of course, being Hermione, she hadn't wasted time being shocked. She dove in. But she also realized painfully, that being Muggle-born was a serious disadvantage.
Especially after that fateful trip to Diagon Alley, where she watched a boy about her age, snap his fingers and charm a stack of books to dance a jig. Professor McGonagall had called him "Vaughn Weasley".
Hermione's brain nearly short-circuited.
She'd almost missed the Hogwarts letter deadline because she was born on September 19. Had she been born twenty days earlier, she'd have started last year.
The realization had hit like a ton of bricks.
Wizarding children grew up with magic. Lived in it. Hermione had spent almost twelve years learning algebra and Latin roots while others were already waving wands and brewing potions. By her own terrifying mental math, she was at least a century behind.
So, she spent the entire summer reading every book on magic she could get her hands on, practicing spells with unmatched desperation.
Unfortunately, teaching yourself spells with no wand instruction and no guidance is… well, not ideal.
By the time she boarded the Hogwarts Express, Hermione was practically vibrating with nerves. She needed to talk to someone from a wizarding family. She had to know how far behind she really was.
At first, things went fairly well.
She sat in a compartment with a cheerful girl named Susan Bones. Susan didn't hold anything back, within ten minutes, half the train knew that her aunt was Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
Perfect! Hermione thought. A well-connected, friendly pure-blood!
Eager to impress, Hermione demonstrated a basic Repairing Charm she'd learned from her books… and promptly got ignored for the rest of the ride.
Unfazed, she wandered down the train and spotted another familiar figure, Ron Weasley. She remembered him from the alley too. He was boasting to a boy with messy black hair (who Hermione immediately guessed was Harry Potter) about his new wand.
A compartment with a Weasley and the Boy Who Lived? Unmissable.
She pushed her way in and all but begged Ron to show her a spell.
It… didn't go well. Let's not talk about it.
Her last hope was a boy she found sobbing and hugging a toad near the luggage racks.
"Neville Longbottom?" she asked, a bit too sharply.
Neville sniffled and nodded, clearly terrified.
"I can't do magic," he mumbled. "If Hogwarts hadn't sent me a letter, my gran would've written me off as a Squib."
Hermione stared at him, aghast. "But… but you've grown up around magic! How can you not know anything?!"
Neville shrank under her glare and whimpered, "W-why don't you go talk to Vaughn Weasley? He just helped me find Trevor…"
Vaughn Weasley.
The name sent a shiver down Hermione's spine. She'd heard about him all summer. He was the prodigy, the genius, the one everyone said was already brewing potions and casting spells as if he'd been doing it since birth.
But after a full afternoon of failed interactions, Hermione felt oddly emboldened.
She turned a corner and there he was. Tall and lanky, red hair gleaming in the sunlight filtering through the train windows, spinning a wand between his fingers like he was born with it.
Hermione's heart lurched.
"Vaughn… Weasley?"
Why did her voice sound so high?
He turned. Smiled. "Hello, Miss Granger."
Merlin's beard, he has dimples, she thought, before internally slapping herself. Focus. Duel. Learn something. You came here to--
But instead of the clever introduction she'd prepared, she blurted, "You... you too, Weasley - I mean, Mister Weasley... uh hello."
"Something on your mind, Miss Granger?" Vaughn asked kindly.
"I…" Hermione began, but someone rudely shoved past her, nearly knocking her into the wall.
"Move, Mudblood."
The voice was drawling, disdainful. Hermione spun around and saw a pale, pointy boy with platinum blond hair and two hulking shadows behind him.
The boy didn't even glance at her. He looked Vaughn up and down, sneering.
"Another Weasley? I saw one earlier, red hair, dirt on his nose, thick as Troll snot. And you - well, you look even weirder."
He finally turned to Hermione. "And you're friends with this lot? Merlin, what a pair. Hair like seaweed, teeth like a beaver--"
"Draco Malfoy?" Vaughn interrupted, voice calm and cold.
Draco blinked, startled. Then smirked. "Ah, so you've heard of me. Good. You're smarter than the other Weasley, at least."
"If I were you," Vaughn said mildly, "I'd walk away now. Because on this train, your mummy and daddy aren't here to rescue you."
Color drained from Draco's face. "What? Are you threatening me?"
He turned to his goons. "Crabbe, Goyle hit him!"
The two muscle-headed boys cracked their knuckles and lumbered forward with a grunt.
Hermione gasped. "Vaughn-!"
But Vaughn had already raised his wand.
"Impedimenta!"
The air shimmered. Crabbe and Goyle hit an invisible wall of resistance, as if they'd suddenly stepped into molasses. Their arms flailed. Their feet lifted off the ground. In a second, they were suspended in midair, dangling like overgrown frogs pinned in a specimen jar.
They flailed and screeched.
"Draco! Help!"
Wrong person to ask.
Draco opened his mouth, eyes wide with horror--
"Expelliarmus!" Vaughn called.
With a loud bang, Draco flew backward down the corridor, arms flailing like a windmill, before crashing into the wooden paneling of the nearest compartment.
His wand flew out of his hand and skittered away.
Before he could recover, Vaughn's next spell hit him square in the mouth.
"Densaugeo!"
Draco yelped as his front teeth began growing - longer, longer - until they jutted out beyond his lips and curled slightly at the ends like rabbit ears.
The corridor echoed with his wail of pure embarrassment.
Tears sprang to his eyes. He turned and fled, tripping over his own feet as he stumbled away.
Crabbe and Goyle followed, still sticky with magical residue, clutching at each other like toddlers after a bad dream.
Every compartment door along the corridor had opened now. Students poked their heads out, whispering excitedly.
Vaughn casually lowered his wand and dispelled the jinx on the two goons. He watched them hobble off without a word.
Hermione stood frozen, speechless.
Vaughn glanced at her and shrugged. "That was… educational, don't you think?"