Something Wicked This Way Comes

Perfection

per·fec·tion
/pərˈfekSH(ə)n/
noun:
the condition, state, or quality of being free or as free as possible from all flaws or defects.
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Perfection. It's what she's been striving for her entire life.

Of course, perfection isn't obtainable, everyone has a flaw, but for Hermione Grindelwald, perfection was an expectation. As a baby, people often cooed about how well-behaved she was, how she never fussed or cried. As a child, people praised her for being a prodigy in magical knowledge, ages ahead of her peers in intelligence and strategic mind. Now, as a young adult, she was the pinnacle of a perfect lady: beautiful, smart, but most importantly, powerful.

There was the knack of being "an insufferable know-it-all all", as her father liked to call it, which often got her in trouble; but for the most part, perfection for Hermione was nothing short of a stretch away. So it didn't come as a surprise, that her father chose her to go undercover as a Hogwarts student to obtain the cloak of invisibility that her father believed Dumbledore possessed.

"Your transcripts, requested classes, and letter of recommendation have been owled to Hogwarts. The headmistress of Beauxbatons has been allied to our cause and has agreed to provide documentation on your behalf. I expect you have been practicing your story?" Her father told her with a hardened stare, his questing being rhetorical.

"Ja, Vater," she responded in German, her father was always more obliging when she spoke his native tongue. He scrutinized her before speaking, heterochromatic eyes nitpicking her behaviors.

"Hermione; I will be very displeased if I learn that you spend this assignment socializing." The warning was clear: no friends and no boys.

"Ja, Vater." The idea of spending her precious time around immature adolescents who were far beneath her intellect made her want to grimace. Nonetheless, she couldn't afford to get too comfy at the school as her father's words echoed, daughter or not, his punishment for disobedience would be swift and severe.

She arrived at platform 9 3/4 in complete silence. The only sound was her heels on the floor accompanied by the footfalls of one of her father's followers pushing her trolley as she held on to a bag and a few books.

She quickly boarded the train, leaving the follower to deal with her luggage, and chose an empty compartment so that she could read in peace. Gazing out of her compartment, she could see many families hugging their children goodbye, something she never got to do. Instead, she honed in on her reflection of the window glass. Her father was half Veela, leaving her to have a quarter of Veela beauty in her veins. Hermione had very angular features (her jaw, nose, cheekbones, and cupids bow if she was giving specifics), this contrasted against her large doe eyes and bushy hair, both a boring mousy brown; both of which she inherited from her mother.

"Excuse me, but do you mind if we share this compartment? The rest are full, we have a lot of transfers this year." A boy with platinum blonde hair and light grey eyes asked while peering into her infilled compartment. This boy was a Malfoy.

"Of course, sorry let me move my stuff." She told the boy and began moving her books and bag as 2 other boys shuffled in after him. Part of her dreaded the idea of sharing a compartment with three strange boys, but it would be beneficial to gain acquaintances, especially influential ones like a Malfoy, while at Hogwarts.

She quietly observed the three boys as they got situated within the box, The second boy had slick jet-black hair that lightly curled at the ends. The black hair matched the equally dark eyes which glinted with curiosity. Judging by the tailored robes and expensive bag, she could guess this boy to be part of a pure-blooded family as well; a Black, possibly a Lestrange.