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| Hermione Granger, Aged nine. |
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"Who can tell me the answer to number five?" My teacher, a small rather old man with greying hair, asked. I raised my hand eagerly, "5972!" He nodded approvingly at me. "Correct, well done, Miss Granger."

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| Hermione Granger, Aged nine. |
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I cowered slightly. Around me, five girls only slightly older than me jeered, "Know-it-all Granger! Know-it-all Granger!" their words continued to chant in my head, know-it-all Granger! Know-it-all Granger! My eyes started to water at the insult.

They had surrounded me just after lunch and had circled me, chanting over and over again. I flinched as one pushed my shoulder, laughing with her friends. One frazzled her hair a bit, mockingly turning pages from a book. "Look at me! I'm Hermione Granger, and I know everything," another mocked. I started to cry now, sinking to my knees.

"Professor! Professor! Notice me!!" One mimed putting her hand up, jumping up and down for emphasis. One shoved me with her foot, laughing when I squeaked in fear. "Maybe you should put down the books and spend more time learning how to use a hairbrush!" She pulled my hair; my scalp burned in pain, and I sobbed harder.

One of them grabbed my bag, emptying it out onto the ground. Her friend picked up my homework, shoving it in front of my face. "Look, Granger! I got your precious homework!" I closed my eyes as she started to rip it, tearing it until nothing was left.

They started to close in on me, jeering louder and louder, "Know-it-all Granger! Know-it-all Granger!" Laughing at my distress. I made myself as small as possible and tried to block it out. They kicked me and laughed, sending insult after insult.

They formed a tight circle and continued to kick and jeer. "You better not tell anyone about this, Hermione," one whispered into my ear. I could feel her hot breath on my neck. "It'll only get worse..."

She yanked me into a sitting position by my hair, making me whimper in fear. I felt a hand close around my neck, squeezing. I gasped for breath, but it didn't come. My lungs burned fiercely. After a full twenty seconds of not being able to breathe properly, she let go. I gasped and coughed in relief.

Suddenly, I felt pain shoot through my arm. I flinched when I realized one of them had started to pinch me, hard. They all followed her lead, kicking my chest when I tried to sit up. Pain rained down on me even as I begged.

The pinches stopped, and they grabbed my hair again, dragging me over to some playground equipment. My scalp burned as I shrieked. I tried not to be too loud, knowing that if they got caught, they would only hurt me more. I felt the pain lessen as they stopped dragging me. I looked around frantically only to find a metal swing headed my way. It banged into my forehead, creating a large but, thankfully, non lethal cut.

They continued on like this until I lost consciousness. Only a few hours later, I would wake up to find myself hanging in a branch of a large tree, unable to get down.

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| Hermione Granger, Aged eleven. |
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I woke up early on September 19th, my birthday. Sighing, I slowly got out of bed, another day, another ton of studying. That's the thing about me—well, my parents. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, my mum and dad, want me to become a dentist, just like them.

My whole life had been planned from the moment I was born: I would study relentlessly, go to a good college, get a degree in dentistry, take the Dental Admissions Test, apply to and enroll in dental school, complete classroom study and clinical experience, pass my licensing exams, and become a dentist, just like them.

I sighed again, making my way to the bathroom, lost in thought. I wished I could escape this boring life. I loved reading, and I loved knowledge, but I didn't love being the know-it-all  my parents had taught me to be. I shook my head. No, I reminded myself, no, wishes don't solve anything, dreams don't solve anything, just like Dad always says...

Despite my own reprimands, my thoughts drifted to the books I had hidden under my bed: books about fairy tales and magic, books about quick heroines and sharp, sarcastic villains, and about fascinating things such as history and culture. The books that lit fire in my very soul didn't consist of how to pull someone's wisdom teeth out; they consisted of knowledge, but more than that, they consisted of magic. Dark magic.

A knock on my window pulled me out of my musings, and in my half-asleep state, I walked to the window and unlatched it, letting whatever had knocked into my room. I woke up enough to screech slightly when I saw that it was an OWL that I had let in, an owl that was now perched neatly on my bed.

I stared at it, horror and shock dancing in my eyes. "Th-there's a bird, an owl, on my bed, holy fuck." I knew I wasn't supposed to swear, but I also wasn't supposed to let owls into my bedroom because they knocked on my window. I was already breaking about a thousand rules; what was one more?

That was when I realized the owl had something in its beak—a letter. I took it from the owl, who, to my absolute surprise, allowed me immediately. I was completely shocked to my core as I read: "A-a witch? I'm a what now?" This must be a joke, yes, that's it, this is just some stupid joke. One of the boys in town must have sent this to me as a joke. I finally decided, phew, for a second there I actually believed it! I laughed, relieved.

Wait, how did someone get hold of an owl? I pondered this for a second before I figured out a solution, Not. My. Problem.

"Hermione! There's someone here for you!! Her name Minva Gonalgle!" I looked up from the letter I hadn't realized I was staring at.

I heard some muttering from downstairs, including something along the lines of "Minerva? Really? What a funny name." "Minerva McGonagall!" My blood froze. Minerva McGonagall? Sh-she's the name from the letter. Oh god! I ran downstairs and into the sitting room at record speed to find a stern-looking woman in emerald green robes waiting for me.

I stood in the doorway, shell-shocked, for a few moments—moments that felt like seconds and years wrapped up in one. My eyes were wide as I stared at her, full of disbelief and a hint of humility. This was a witch, a real witch. "Hello, Miss Granger," she greeted me. Once I had gotten control of my voice, I replied, "H-hello.... Professor... This-this is... real then."

She smiled at me. "Of course it's real." My skeptical nature fought with my well-enforced obedience to authority figures. I narrowed my eyes at her. "Show me... prove this isn't just some sick joke."

She frowned slightly before taking a stick out of her robes. She pointed her stick at a nearby teacup. "Wingardium Leviosa," she asserted. I almost laughed. Of course! This was just some stupid jok- My thoughts were cut off when the teacup started to levitate.

I gaped at her, forgetting my manners entirely. "Who-wa-how?" managed to make it's way from my mouth. "You are a witch, Miss Granger. Soon you'll be able to do that too," my parents shrieked. "NO! SHE WILL BE A DENTIST! JUST LIKE US! JUST LIKE SHE'S ALWAYS WANTED TO BE! RIGHT, HERMIONE?" my mum shouted.

I looked at the ground. "Yes, Mum..." I muttered submissively. It didn't matter if this was real or not anyway; it's not like my parents would ever pay for me to go to some magic school... right? Professor McGonagall's frown deepened.

"Why wouldn't you want her to come and learn magic? If being a dentist is what she truly wants, then I will respect that. But you have to understand that this is a beautiful gift that she has, not just some throwaway talent," Professor McGonagall said diplomatically. My parents looked outraged. I looked at her, hope filling the gaps I felt in my heart. "I-I can really learn magic?" Professor McGonagall nodded. "Of course. But if you do truly want to be a dentist, then I will leave you be. But-" She was cut off by my mum.

"No! She will not be coming with you!! We will NOT pay for some silly people in hats to teach her magic tricks!!! She will be a dentist!!! Just like she's always wanted to be!!" That was when I snapped. I looked at my mother, as cool as ice. "No, that is what you have always wanted me to be. That is not my dream; that is your dream. Knowledge is not just books and cleverness; knowledge is power."

"Well, we certainly won't be paying for that! Magic doesn't exist, Hermione! Don't let her fool you." My father ended his sentence coldly, as if disappointed I would fall for tricks like this. Only my ingrained respect for authority kept me from replying harshly. "Yes, Dad... sorry, Dad..."

Professor McGonagall interrupted us, "I'm sorry, what fooling are you alluding to, Mr. Granger?" My dad scoffed, "Well, you, of course! Your silly magic spells. Let me guess, you tied that cup to some fishing wire? Sneaky but not sneaky enough! My Hermione will not be falling for your tricks!"

Professor McGonagall looked rather offended now. "Fishing wire? Then explain this." She dropped a cup on the ground; it shattered upon impact with the floor. My parents looked even more outraged, while I just stared in fascination as Professor McGonagall pointed her stick at the broken cup. "Reparo." I watched, amazed, as the broken pottery began to slowly come together, eventually forming a perfect replica of the teacup it once was. Professor McGonagall handed it to my father.

My dad was speechless as he held the perfect cup, searching desperately for something to fault. The witch eyed him with a stern gaze. "Still don't believe me? Watch this, then." I gasped when her body started to morph, moving and melting until a cat stood in her place, markings surrounding its eyes not unlike the professor's glasses.

After licking her paws and meowing a few times, the cat started to morph again, and soon her human counterpart was standing in its place. A calculated look formed on my face. "Professor," I asked in a small voice, "i-if I go with you, will I have to come back here?" The professor in question shook her head. "No, Miss Granger, if you don't want to, you don't have to. It is your choice. But again, coming with me is your choice too. All you have to do is say yes or no, and I will respect that answer."

I nodded to show I understood and thought for a moment. "W-wait here. Please." I rushed upstairs without another word. Back in my room, I grabbed the biggest bags I could find and started to stuff all of my things into them—well, all the useful stuff anyway, taking extra care with the prescious books under my bed.

Five minutes later, I was done. I rushed back downstairs to find McGonagall in the same place she was when I left and my parents sitting down on a sofa to the side of her. McGonagall, seeing what clearly was my decision, held her hand out to me.

Tears sprang up in my eyes, tears I wouldn't let fall. "Goodbye, Mother, Father." With that, I took Professor McGonagall's hand, and we walked out the door. "What you just did was a very brave thing. Well done, Hermione," she told me as we walked.

I gave her an unsure smile. "Thank you, Professor." She told me to hold onto her arm tight, and when I did, she pulled out her stick, which by now I had realized was probably a wand. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. It felt like I was being forced into a very small tube.

Once I could breathe again, I gasped for air. I pushed McGonagall away. "What was that?" I asked, panicked, feeling betrayed. "That, Miss Granger, was Apparition. It's how wizards and witches get around." I nodded, still wary.

"Now, come on, Miss Granger, let's get your school supplies." And so, we spent the next few hours in a magical town, buying magic items and magic wands. I was in paradise.