Iphigelina: Thank you so much for taking the time to write such a detailed breakdown! I really appreciate it, especially since most people usually leave just a short sentence.
Since we are still early in the story, I hope the plot will continue to evolve and improve enough to earn an even better rating from you in the future. As for the main character—I'm afraid he might not change much in that regard. I envision him more like "The Punisher" type. He's essentially a cynical adult man trapped in a child's body in a world of magic, so he's not exactly a sensitive guy, nor is he the type to go out of his way to sacrifice himself for others.
Thanks again for the support and the honest feedback!
KingInTheNorth27: Well, Vespera is quite a dark witch from Durmstrang as well. So we'll see what happens with Gregor. Thank you! I'm glad you liked the fight - I wasn't quite sure how people would take it, but personally, I enjoyed it too.
Nudu13: Yep, Gregor is kinda a shitty person! Auntie is quite a dark witch from Durmstrang too, so who knows what's going to happen? Yep, he really has to, those are beneficial spells :). Well, you're right. In this chapter, you can read Hermione's POV.
Steelalbatross5000: Eh, my boy, I thought you'd given up on my fic :D. Someone's going to join our MC and Agnes after Christmas/Yule, but I'm not going to spoil it!
EduardBlack: Thank you! I'm really happy you like it. I do enjoy combative fanfics, so in the future, when our MC gets older, we'll have looots of combat. I'm not going to spoil the MC's mother, just 3 or 4 more chapters before you get to know her. Not yet, you'll have to wait for the Patreon launch, as I need to get a few chapters ahead first.
Upcoming News: "You-Know-What" & More Chapters
Hey guys! Starting tomorrow, I'm going to be writing intensively to get some chapters ahead for a YOU-KNOW-WHAT launch. I'm even taking a short vacation from work just to focus on pre-writing these chapters and getting everything ready.
I decided to do this for a few simple reasons. On some sites, I've received reviews with less than 5 stars where the comments say the story is great, but the chapter releases are too slow. Since I write everything personally without using AI, each chapter takes me about 4–5 hours of work, so if you want more chapters, this is the way you'll get them.
Another reason is that I want to write sex scenes in the future. I hope they turn out well—my girlfriend is actually going to help me with them! However, I'm definitely not going to post them on public websites because of rating issues and site rules, so these will eventually be on YOU-KNOW-WHAT.
To be honest, the writing itself is amazing. I never expected to get such a dopamine hit from every comment, like, or follow, and it really makes me happy to see you enjoy it. For my dear readers, nothing changes. You can choose to subscribe or not, but you will still get at least one chapter every single week for sure. This just gives those who want more a way to get it sooner.
All the info and links can be found on my Discord: https://discord.gg/tgdTNZYVKt
Thank you for all the support! Stay tuned for more.
***
POV: HERMIONE GRANGER
Before my Hogwarts letter arrived, I was incredibly lonely. My parents took my academic success for granted, and my teachers had grown used to it. To my classmates, however, I was nothing more than a plain old bookworm. No one wanted to talk to me... well, unless they needed me to bail them out during a test.
I must admit, I was so desperately lonely that even though I knew they were just using me—that they didn't actually like me and only wanted my notes—I helped them anyway. It was a foul, humiliating feeling, but in the back of my mind, I hoped that once I moved on to secondary school, everything would change. That I would finally find friends there.
I imagined people who would be more mature and wiser. People who would understand that knowledge is fundamental and that there's nothing wrong with wanting to learn.
My parents had no idea how I felt. How was I supposed to tell them that nobody liked me? That people called me an insufferable know-it-all behind my back and to my face? I pretended everything was fine in front of them, but inside, I felt like a personal failure as a human being.
Why were others so popular even when they couldn't answer the simplest questions? Why did teachers smile at them even though they were disruptive and acted like fools? I was the one trying to be a model student, I didn't cause trouble, and I knew every answer!
It made no sense. I should have been the one appreciated, not those who spent lessons shooting spitballs. It was unfair. Completely and utterly unfair!
When my Hogwarts letter arrived, it felt like the universe had finally given me an answer. I wasn't weird; I was simply different—I was a witch! In that moment, it seemed as clear as day. Surely, wizards had to be smarter and more sophisticated than ordinary people.
Professor McGonagall came to our house to explain everything to me and my parents. She seemed strict, but she was exceptionally wise and fair. I liked her instantly. When she told me about the houses, she admitted she was the Head of Gryffindor—a place for brave and good children with grit, who feared nothing.
That was exactly what I needed. I didn't want to be alone anymore. I didn't want to be around mean children who would bully me for knowing a little extra. I hoped that in Gryffindor, I would find someone to help me overcome my fear and my eternal insecurity.
That day, I made a promise to myself. I would do everything in my power to end up in Gryffindor.
We had a strange experience at Gringotts. While my parents and I were exchanging currency, I noticed an older wizard in expensive dark robes. A massive gold ring with a strange crest glinted on his finger, and he watched us with unconcealed disdain. He scowled at me and my parents so sharply it sent a chill down my spine.
„He's probably just having a bad day," I thought at the time. Surely it wasn't personal—after all, he didn't even know me!
In Diagon Alley, I bought everything I needed with the Professor, though I spent a bit more time in the bookstore than the others. I bought A History of Hogwarts, and I couldn't wait to dive in and lose myself in it.
I spent the rest of the summer with my nose in my textbooks. I memorized every single word; I couldn't risk being worse than the others. Competition at a school like this would surely be fierce, and I assumed all my future classmates were doing the same thing right now—preparing diligently. I desperately wanted to try some spells in practice, but Professor McGonagall had warned me that it wasn't allowed before the school year began.
I couldn't wait for the day I'd finally be sorted into Gryffindor. I imagined having a crowd of friends around me, spending evenings together in the library and helping each other study!
***
Even on the train, I began to suspect that not everyone was like me. Neville Longbottom lost his toad. A toad!!! He looked so desperate that I decided to help him, even though he seemed like a total klutz—I mean, who brings a toad on a journey and then goes and loses it? We ran through almost the entire train, and some of the students glared at me as if I'd just eaten their dinner.
But it was a living creature! I pushed open every compartment door with such vigor that they would understand this was a serious matter.
During our search, we stopped at a compartment where two boys were sitting. One was small, with glasses held together by sticky tape, and the other wore shabby, second-hand robes. Their appearance didn't interest me much; what mattered was that the red-headed one was about to perform magic. Finally, I was going to see a real spell in practice!
To my massive disappointment, there was a bit of a flash, but absolutely nothing happened. It wasn't surprising—the spell was in English and it rhymed, which wasn't mentioned in any of my books. It was just nonsense; he was surely some sort of charity case.
Of course, I couldn't help myself. As a model student, I decided to at least help the other boy with the taped glasses. My very first spell worked perfectly, and his glasses were repaired in a second!
He looked quite startled when I pointed my wand at him, but honestly... he could have at least said thank you.
***
We finally arrived at Hogwarts. I was shaking with anticipation for my sorting into Gryffindor. And those two dimwits from the train? I pegged them for Slytherin. After all, the only thing they had left was the ambition to be at least slightly better—as charity cases, they should surely be striving to achieve something in life!
Those two, of course, managed to get into an argument with a rather pretty boy with an incredibly haughty gaze. He immediately reminded me of the snobs from my old school. Perhaps I should have mentioned that I come from a fairly wealthy family, so I had plenty of experience with snobbery and arrogance. But I wasn't like that! I really wasn't.
I took an instant dislike to that boy. I had a feeling he'd end up in Slytherin along with those two from the train.
Finally, the sorting began. My heart was pounding wildly; I couldn't wait for the hat to shout "Gryffindor" the moment it touched my hair. Before me, a fairly pleasant girl, Lavender Brown, was sorted. She went to Gryffindor too and looked like good and kind girl. Gryffindor was, after all, the house for good and brave people!
Finally, my turn came. It was me!
But that stupid hat had no intention of cooperating. I argued with it in my head for what felt like an eternity, telling it to put me in Gryffindor. It was dead set on sending me to Ravenclaw, but that place was full of nothing but nerds! And I wasn't a nerd—I just genuinely enjoyed learning. Eventually, I somehow convinced it, and the hat finally shouted to the whole hall: "Gryffindor!"
The entire table applauded. I felt incredibly happy; I would finally belong, and I'd never be lonely again. I rushed to the Gryffindor table with excitement.
My joy began to fade slightly when that dimwit Neville joined us... But at least I was right about one thing—that handsome, unpleasant, and haughty boy from the train went straight to Slytherin. I nailed it; that's exactly where he belonged.
Then came the shock. One of those two "charity cases" was actually Harry Potter! Could you believe it? He must have been in disguise to keep his identity a secret. I had read absolutely everything about him and his adventures, and he undoubtedly belonged in Gryffindor. I was curious about the redhead too—since he was Harry's friend, he surely had to be a good boy. I wasn't wrong; he ended up with us too, and at that moment, I was truly happy.
***
The prefects led us to the common room, and I watched my surroundings with unconcealed wonder the entire way. I had read so much about this magical place, and now I was finally standing here. Everything was just as monumental as I had imagined.
I ended up in a dormitory with three other girls. It was unusual for me; I had never shared a room with anyone, but I comforted myself with the thought that they would surely be good and wise. They were in Gryffindor, after all!
We all introduced ourselves and started chatting. What shocked me, however, was that they weren't talking about books or study plans at all. Lavender Brown was rating the boys! And she was clearly watching them like a hawk, because she knew exactly who was who and which house they were in.
"Draco Malfoy is a dream. He looks like a prince, and his family is incredibly rich!" Lavender declared with a dreamy look.
My brain nearly short-circuited. That was exactly the haughty and unpleasant boy I had immediately labeled as a villain!
"I thought Patrik Rosier was more interesting," Parvati added. "He's tall and really attractive for his age."
"I'll give you that," Lavender agreed, "and Zabini is handsome too!"
"Yes, he's like a total princess," Parvati smirked, and they both burst into laughter.
I just sat there observing them. I couldn't understand how, in the house of courage and honor, they could be singing the praises of Slytherin snobs. I felt like I had landed in a completely different universe than the one described in A History of Hogwarts.
"Are you looking forward to classes tomorrow?" I tried to change the subject in an uncertain voice. In my head, I was already reviewing the Transfiguration syllabus for beginners.
They both stared at me as if I'd just grown a second head. There wasn't a hint of excitement in their eyes—just pure, honest incomprehension.
***
My naive hope faded very quickly. The first few days were relatively fine, though loneliness dogged my every step. The only one who spoke to me sincerely was Neville. I was starting to realize he wasn't a dimwit—he just lacked a bit of confidence and needed someone who didn't see him as a burden. I was grateful for his company.
After the first week, however, the situation worsened sharply. I expected insults from the other houses, but the fact that my own Gryffindor classmates joined in hurt the most. Once again, I was just that "insufferable, social-climbing know-it-all." When Snape picked on me in class with his venomous sarcasm, the people from my own house laughed along with him.
I was so stupid! Did I really think everything would change at Hogwarts? I should have gone to Ravenclaw... but it was too late now. In the thousand years since the school was founded, no student had ever been re-sorted. I was trapped in a place where I didn't belong.
And the teachers? They were the biggest disappointment. Snape humiliated me openly, and the others ignored it. The students were cunning enough not to insult me directly in front of them, but in the shadows of the corridors, their words cut like knives.
I tried doing what I knew best—studying even harder. I hoped that if I wrote essays twice as long as required, someone would finally notice my effort. But Snape mocked me brutally in front of the whole class, and even Professor McGonagall stopped me after a lesson. Her voice wasn't cruel; it was more tired and stern.
"Less is sometimes more, Miss Granger," she told me with a sigh while straightening stacks of parchment on her desk. "The ability to express oneself concisely and to the point is just as important as knowledge itself. Next time, stick to the assigned length."
I left the classroom with a lump in my throat.
***
At the end of September, Malfoy lured Potter and Weasley into a wizard's duel. I tried to convince them not to go—all the points I had painstakingly earned for the house would be gone in a second if they were caught. And I knew Malfoy was a snake; hearing his foul insults was enough for me.
They ignored me completely. Stubborn dimwits, they went anyway. By sheer bad luck, I ended up locked out of the common room, so I had no choice—I had to follow them whether I liked it or not.
They were fools. Just as I thought, it was a trap. As soon as we heard Filch and his cat, we ran for our lives. Because of a stupid staircase that moved at the worst possible moment, we ended up on the forbidden third floor. Dumbledore had warned it could mean death, but I comforted myself with the thought that it was still a school. Surely they wouldn't leave anything truly dangerous here that would kill students. It wouldn't make sense.
With a quick Alohomora, I unlocked a door, and we burst inside without hesitation.
We waited tensely for a moment to see if Filch would catch us, but no more footsteps came from behind the door. In the silence of the corridor, however, I suddenly felt the hair on my neck stand up. Something thick landed on the floor with a loud splash.
We turned slowly, and in that second, all three of us turned deathly pale. What I thought was a leak wasn't water, but the massive, sticky drool of a three-headed dog. The monster was gargantuan, filling almost the entire space from floor to ceiling, and all six eyes were fixed directly on us.
We instantly kicked the door open with a scream and flew out into the corridor. Behind us, there was only a muffled, deep baying that made the walls shake. My heart was pounding somewhere in my throat, and I had only one thought: I'd had quite enough of this "adventure." Dumbledore wasn't joking—people could really die here.
***
I hoped that after our night-time adventure, they would be at least a little bit nicer to me. I expected them to be grateful that I had warned them, that I had saved them, and that I was—as always—right!
Instead of gratitude came more ignoring. Ingrates. I tried to be useful to them, but Weasley was a hopeless case; he didn't even thank me for the finished essays he copied from me. Potter was at least a bit kinder, but he never stood up for me. He valued Weasley's friendship more than my help.
It all culminated in Charms class. When I saw him struggling, I tried to guide him—he was pronouncing it all wrong! I hoped that if I helped him master the spell, he would finally appreciate my presence. But I was wrong.
After class, I overheard him telling Harry in the corridor: "Did you hear her? She's insufferable! Win-gááár-dium Le-vi-óóó-sa! It's no wonder no one likes her. She's just a plain, annoying know-it-all."
In that moment, something inside me broke. It was too much for me. With a sob I could no longer suppress, I ran away. I had only tried to help everyone. I was a model student, I paid attention, I prepared diligently, and I didn't break rules... and the result was that no one liked me anyway.
Maybe they were right. Maybe I really didn't belong here.
I spent the rest of the day crying in the toilets. I didn't care at all that it was Halloween and a feast was being prepared in the Great Hall. I had no appetite for food, and certainly none for people... after all, no one cared about me anyway.
My tears had long since run out. I was just sitting there huddled up, sadly sniffing into some toilet paper, when suddenly the door to the girls' bathroom flew open with a deafening crash. A massive mountain troll lumbered into the room, a gargantuan wooden club in its hand.
The stench was unbearable. From my books, I knew exactly what mortal danger I was in. Trolls were known for eating people, they were almost immune to common spells, and though they were dim-witted, their strength was devastating.
I was paralyzed by pure, primal fear. I was convinced this was the end of me. In that moment, absolutely nothing I could use for defense came to mind. Everything I had diligently learned from textbooks vanished instantly. My knowledge was completely useless in the face of death.
A desperate struggle for life broke out. Potter and Weasley—no—Harry and Ron risked their own lives without hesitation just to save mine. Ron eventually took the troll down with a single, precise spell. He used exactly what he'd had such trouble with before, and he did it perfectly!
I felt such immense gratitude toward them that I instantly forgave Ron for all those foul insults and his behavior. What can be more than saving a life?
We stood over the unconscious troll for maybe three minutes, completely speechless, unable to believe what had just happened. The silence was only broken by the teachers bursting in with their wands drawn.
That was the first time in my life I consciously broke the rules. My lie—that I had gone looking for the troll myself because I naively thought I could handle it—was accepted without a single hesitation.
***
Later, once the initial shock wore off, I began to realize something disturbing. The professors were nowhere near as flawless and farsighted as I had believed until now. Where were they all while that monster was nearly crushing us into pulp? Why did my life have to be saved by two first-years who could barely hold a wand?
And worst of all—how could they be so blinded as to believe my lie? I, the model student who was afraid to break even the smallest regulation, would suddenly just go off on a troll hunt? It was illogical, downright absurd.
From then on, I didn't feel so lonely. Harry and Ron became my true friends. Ron even apologized to me! And best of all—they occasionally came to the library to study with me. It filled me with immense joy. I finally had someone who stood by me, even when Malfoy attacked me.
"Bookworm, you didn't seem to be waving your hand around as much today. What happened? Run out of knowledge?" Malfoy called out mockingly as soon as the Potions classroom door slammed behind us.
"Maybe I'm just tired of answering questions you don't even understand, Malfoy," I snapped back, surprising myself. My voice trembled a bit, but I didn't back down an inch. "Professor Snape was asking about the composition of a boil-cure potion, not about the best way to gel your hair."
"What do you even know, you filthy little Mudblood?" Malfoy spat at me, now red with rage.
That word practically stung the air. "Leave her alone, Malfoy!" Ron growled, immediately stepping forward with his wand drawn.
For a moment, I saw fear in Malfoy's eyes, and he took a step back, but then his gaze drifted to Rosier standing nearby. As if he didn't want to look like a coward in his presence, his courage returned instantly.
"Or what, Weasley?" he asked with a challenging smirk.
Patrik Rosier just stood there, silently watching the scene. He was an exceptionally talented wizard—every spell we had learned so far, he mastered on the first try and with ease. He answered every professor's question concisely and precisely. Rumors spread around Hogwarts that he came from an ancient dark family and that he was growing into the next Dark Lord.
He was my complete opposite. While I craved recognition and constantly raised my hand, he didn't care for attention. He wasn't interested in house points and didn't look for friends. Except for Agnes DeMille, the daughter of another well-known Death Eater, he spoke to no one. Despite that—or perhaps because of it—all the Slytherins had massive respect for him.
I quickly grabbed Ron by his robes and pulled him back before he could get tangled in a wizard's duel I hadn't found the courage for. Who knows what dark spells Rosier already knows in first year? A single glance at his calm face told me that against him, we would just be target practice.
"You're just jealous, Malfoy," I called out in a cold voice that trembled only slightly in my throat. "You're jealous that Muggles can be better at many things than your whole famous family. Your lineage clearly didn't guarantee you intelligence."
That set Malfoy off even more. He was red as a tomato and was just about to inhale for another foul insult when Rosier spoke.
"Muggles are inferior to wizards," he said matter-of-factly, as if he were just stating a weather forecast.
His voice was calm, deep, and devoid of any hatred. And that was the most terrifying thing about it. He didn't say it to make me cry; he said it because he was deeply, internally convinced of it. Malfoy immediately calmed down and smirked triumphantly, while I stood there stunned.
"That's not true," I blurted out instantly, taking a step toward him even though my insides were knotted with fear. "The fact that they can't use magic doesn't make them inferior. They've managed to survive and prosper for millennia without wands! They built cities, invented technologies you can't even begin to comprehend, and they fly into space while you lot are still relying on owls and parchment. In many ways, they are centuries ahead of you, Rosier, because they had to rely on their wits, not on blood and inheritance!"
"I think I know substantially more about Muggles than you do, Granger," Rosier spoke, his voice completely heartless. "You are just a naive, uneducated child."
"Try a thought experiment. Lock a Muggle and a wizard in one room. Give them the exact same upbringing, education, and traits. Tell them that only one can leave that room... I guarantee you, every single time, the wizard will walk out. We have something they will never have. We have the power to bend reality, while they are merely slaves to physics."
He paused for a moment, and for the first time, something unidentifiable flickered in his eyes. Was it pity? Understanding? Or had I just imagined it in the shock?
"And as for your progress? Muggles are destroying this earth," he declared, his gaze now hard as stone. "They plunder mountains and forests for the resources they need for their pathetic fuel and electricity. Global warming is destroying the planet thanks to them, and we are all at risk. Before you start defending Muggles, try to educate yourself a little, Granger. Because right now, you sound exactly like the troll your friends had to save you from."
Rosier and DeMille didn't wait for an answer. They simply turned and walked away, as if we had ceased to exist for them once the scene was over. Malfoy gave us one last triumphant smirk, straightened his robes, and followed them. The other Slytherins went after him with grins on their faces.
We were left alone in the corridor. The silence that hung there after Rosier's words was heavy and suffocating.
"What did he actually mean... that Muggles are destroying the planet?" Ron asked after a long while, his gaze darting confusedly between me and the empty corridor where the Slytherins had vanished. "And what is this global-something?"
I looked at him, but there was such a lump in my throat that I couldn't answer immediately. Rosier had hit me in a sensitive spot. He had humiliated me using what I had considered my greatest weapon until now—knowledge.
Questions that made no sense whirled in my head. How did he know about electricity? Where did he get information about global warming, which most wizards didn't have the slightest clue about? And what was most chilling—how did he know the boys had saved me from the troll? Though the whole school was celebrating Harry and Ron as heroes who defeated the beast, no one knew the real reason. Aside from the teachers, no one knew they were there because of me. How did he know the Muggle world in such detail?
Patrik Rosier wasn't just another stuck-up Slytherin repeating empty phrases about pure blood. He hadn't said a single thing about it. He had information that a pure-blood wizard simply shouldn't have.
In all these months, he hadn't insulted me once, hadn't even given me a crooked look. He was one of the few people who ignored me completely. To him, I simply didn't exist. I was so shocked by his knowledge of Muggles that I hadn't managed to respond before he could leave.
Patrik Rosier was a complete enigma.
***
Author's note:
Here's a POV from Hermione's perspective. I think I captured her behavior and logic pretty well. Being a dentist's daughter, she's from a richer family. She wasn't morally bad, but snobbish? For sure. About the girls dissecting the boys — that comes from my own experience. I originally thought they'd talk about clothes, but when I was 11, half of my female classmates already had childish relationships…
If you like the story, I'll be grateful for every comment, like, or discussion. Your interaction is what motivates me most to continue writing!
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