Hermione stared at the long white bearded figure perched across from her on her parent's white couch, the two bells tying said beard jingling merrily as he talked. She didn't know how to feel, she didn't know what she was feeling. He looked at her with warm eyes, but there was a sort of cautiousness behind the twinkling in his blue eyes. He had come to tell her and her muggle parents she was a witch, a magical witch. She hadn't outright been told by Tom, only given few memories that hinted at extraordinary things, but one of this man ripping her from the person she loved most in the world stood out against the others. He said they had to pace themselves with her memories of them being different from everyone else, any other bombardment of the past would war with her aspects of reality. Her two worlds colliding too fast would not be very fun.