Discovery

A.N.:

Yooo, I just found that the book is actually trending!! Thank you everyone! 

Enjoy the chapter!

P.S. Keep sending more stones... And let me what you think of the story so far. If you have any ideas, let me know :)

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There was nothing she could do now. Not about that, at least. No way to leap across universes or rip through time to knock on her parents' door in another world and tell them she was okay.

But that didn't mean she had to wait around.

She could plan. Prepare. And for that, she needed one thing more than most. 

Magic

Sounds obvious, really. Why would anyone even question it? But it was a strange thing really. She didn't know if she actually even had magic. 

Because there had been no signs of her having magic so far in this life. No episodes of any accidental magic, of making things float, changing their colour, anything.

Going by the books as a reliable reference, not that they were that magic heavy in the first place. Accidental magic was burst of uncontrolled, often powerful magic, which often occurred in young magical due to emotional outburst. Children could do many things using it: float things towards them, change colours of things, even apparate somewhere if they felt they were in danger. Tom Riddle used it to even torture other children.

But Hermione Granger had never done anything like that.

Because she had always been… composed.

From the start, her emotions had always been measured, composed. There were no tantrums. No sobbing fits or explosive glee.

It wasn't a choice, really. It was instinct – a reflex burned into her from a past life, one where emotions were a luxury. He had learned to be calm because it kept him safe. And now, so did she.

Which meant, in magical terms, she'd never been triggered.

Maybe that was it. Maybe she was a witch and just hadn't had a proper outburst yet.

Or maybe…

She frowned. The thoughts came quickly, sharply, spiraling, as logic dictated other possible scenarios.

Maybe this wasn't the world she thought it was. 

Maybe it wasn't canon. Maybe Harry wasn't the Boy Who Lived. Maybe she was in an AU. 

Maybe she was a squib. 

Maybe she was just a little girl in a world with familiar names and nothing else.

She couldn't help the grimace as she thought more about it.

What if she was powerless? What if she'd been sent here with memories and intelligence, but nothing else? What if there was no magic in this world?

No. She shook her head, her mind working overtime.

It doesn't seem plausible. She didn't believe it. She didn't think that the man who sent him, her, here, would do such a thing. Why go to such lengths as to send someone to another universe, only to play such a cruel joke on them? She didn't think anyone would do that.

Well, maybe someone might. You never know what kind of people are out there. Yet, she knew, that the man wasn't the kind of person to do something like this. He had felt trustworthy. Why, she still did not know.

No.

She most likely did have magic, just hadn't yet used it. And well, if the situation was worse, and she was a squib, well, that was nothing but a bit of setback.

She was sure there must be some forgotten ritual or dark magic of some kind that could be used to siphon away the victim's magic. And there were plenty of people who would be better off without a bit of their magic. Or all of it.

Those pureblood supremacist Nazis. Half of them would probably taste like rotting vinegar and pond scum if wrung out. Death Eaters in training, deluded aristocrats, brain-dead bloodline loyalists. Magical parasites with family crests. They would certainly be better off without their magic.

She didn't feel any guilt about it. Not even a little.

Small mercies for not being able to feel emotions She thought wryly.

If I have to take what they wasted to become powerful, I'll take it. It's not like they are really using it for anything other torturing people. They don't even realize the value of what they have. Treatingit nothing more than a commodity.

Still, all of that was for later.

First thing first, she needed to find if she actually had magic or not.

But the question is, how to go about finding it?

Given that accidental magic has basis in intense emotional outburst, then the only possible, and feasible, way for her to go about discovering and using magic seemed obvious: through intense concentration, intention, willpower.

Hermione couldn't help the wry grin on her face as she thought about it.

"It is starting to look like those fanfics. Power, intent, focus, and all that."

Still, if it worked, then who was she to complain about it.

But she wasn't about to go about it the fanfic way by just staring at a pencil trying to move like a two-bit telekinetic psychic. No, that was an idiotic way to go about it. It was completely inefficient, brute-force way to solve it. There must be certainly a better way.

But still, that was the only lead she had on making magic work. Although, if those brutish ways held even a kernel of truth, it was worth investigating.

Maybe I can refine the way that way worked. See what exactly was the core to make the fanfic way work, and refine it for efficiency.

As she thought about, she started to dissect the idea. In those stories, the characters would concentrate with every fiber of their being, a desperate, all-consuming focus. The key wasn't the staring. The key was that their conscious effort became so overwhelming it bled through, forcing the subconscious – the most likely seat of innate magic – to bend to their will.

"Well, so that's one thing done. I need to concentrate, really hard. Or rather, make my subconscious aware of what I want to do, to make it use magic." Hermione muttered to herself, tapping her fingers against her knees, lying against the koala.

But that kind of thing required a lot of time, and she wasn't likely to even succeed on first try. Luckily, she had a lot of time, and patience to work through it all. But to properly use all these pillars of magic to successfully cast a spell, she needed a particular state of mind. A way to connect and communicate with the subconscious. And she knew the perfect way to achieve it.

Meditation.

It might sound cliché, but she knew how powerful meditation could be when done right. In the previous life, he used to do meditation regularly and was very adept at it. He could enter a calm state of mind within a few minutes and stay like that for hours on end. He had started to do it to see if it could help him with his problems of emotional detachment. Unfortunately, it was unable to help with that. Even so, it was very useful, as it would help to clear the mind, calm him down and give clarity on things.

Hermione sat on the ground, taking the cross-legged pose. She closed her eyes and started to focus. Not on her posture, not her breathing pattern, but on her thoughts in her mind. She didn't push them to leave her.

Instead, she commanded her mind to stop caring for all the thoughts. Let them come if they come. Let them pass through one side to another. Just, never stop a thought. And slowly, it started to work. The thoughts present started to drift away, fading. Even the influx of new thoughts slowed down. She didn't need to focus on her posture or breathing. They evened out on their own as her mind started to relax. All the outside sounds slowly faded away as if someone turned down their volume.

Finally, she was completely still. She didn't know about her breathing. She didn't know how much time had passed. When she felt her mind completely empty from all the stray thoughts, she did just one thing. She issued a command, or more like a whisper to her subconscious, with the context of magic.

Come to me.

And then, she did nothing. She didn't try to go looking for it. She simply waited for it. To come on its own. Because she knew, for some reason, trying to go towards it would only lead to failure.

And so, she stayed like that.

She faintly thought about how much time had passed, minutes, hours. But she didn't care about that.

Just the quiet.

And then –

"Sweety?" She felt someone shaking her.

Her eyes snapped open. Her mother was kneeling in front of her, looking concerned. "Are you alright? You didn't answer me. Did you fall asleep while sitting?" Hermione blinked.

"No, I'm fine. I wasn't sleeping. Just… meditating." She replied calmly.

Her mother looked her over once more, and then sighed with a small smile. "Come down for dinner soon, alright? Food's almost ready." She nodded in response. Only when the door closed, did Hermione look at the clock.

"Six hours?" Hermione hummed, mulling over it. "Time really does pass."

As she went over her experience, she realized she hadn't felt anything different, but then it had been expected it.

"Oh well, not like I had expected to find such a mysterious energy such as magic on my first try. Would have been ridiculous." She snorted, a bit disappointed.

"Still, not a problem, I still have about two weeks of free time. Should be more than enough time to find it. And even then, I am not short on time."

Still, she was calmer. It was only the beginning, after all.

She would be back tomorrow.