I remember her from school. She was two years ahead of me, but I suppose she stood out because she was so different.
Everyone would look at her strangely, and even her friends noticed the unusualness about her. Her class once paired up with mine for a reading contest, and I was partnered with her. At first, this didn’t bother me, but when a boy came up and started teasing her, the next thing you know, his shirt had turned inside out and his hair was vivid orange.
Everyone started laughing at him, saying that Granger had turned her ‘magic’ on him. She just sat there, staring at her book. I never even saw her lay a hand on him, so how had that happened?
I pushed these thoughts to the side. No doubt, there was something strange about the girl, but soon after, she left for some boarding school, and I put her to the back of my mind.
That was two years ago.
Last year, I started noticing things about myself. Strange things were happening around me, and people were starting to call me ‘Granger’s sister.’ I tried to go throughout my days normally as always. I’d answer the teacher when she called on me, struggled with my maths, and played outside with my friends during our break. I listened to Take That, just like everyone else, sang along with the lyrics, but something had changed, and I was beginning to notice.
It started one day, when Melanie decided to borrow some crisps from me. I wasn’t very happy with her, especially seeing as my mother is a health freak, and only sends me with one snack a day.
She started eating them, and when I glared at her, the strangest thing happened. “POP!” The crisp bag vanished.
Jane stared at me, and so did the other girls, but I was just a shocked as they were. How had that happened?
Things continued in this fashion for a few more months. Whenever I was angry, frustrated, or annoyed, things would happen. My mum started taking me to the doctor, saying that something must be wrong with me, but the doctors were just as baffled.
Meanwhile, my friends were distancing themselves from me. They said I was some sort of ‘freak.’ I couldn’t deny it. Honestly, I had no clue what was going on, but whatever was happening to me was certainly not normal.
And so, during the summer of my eleventh-year, I decided to pay a visit to Hermione Granger, who was home from boarding school.
“Hello,” Mr. Granger had said as he answered the door. He was a tall, balding man, and he held himself in a professional manner. There certainly wasn’t anything strange with him.
“Hello, Mr. Granger. Is Hermione there?”
He looked at me curiously, and then let me come in while he got Hermione. As I looked around, I saw pictures that surely were Hermione. The bushy hair, and large teeth gave her away. But I did notice that none of these pictures were recent.
Of course they’re not recent. She’s been away at boarding school. At least, that was what I thought.
~*~
“And you say that strange things keep happening to people who irritate you?” Hermione was watching me closely.
“Yes. And I thought I would come to you, because you’re the only person who this has happened to. You are different.”
I stared out the window, and saw some classmates of mine walking the cobblestone street. When they saw me they yelled “Freak! Freak!” And ran away laughing.
I sighed. “I don’t know what to do. My parents think I’m mental, and want to send me away. The teachers don’t like me anymore, and I can’t focus on my school work. How come?”
Hermione took a deep breath. “You say this has been happening for about two years?”
“Since you left, yes.” I nodded.
She paced her room. “Yes, nine years old. That is about when it happened to me too.” She seemed to be talking more to herself.
“What would you say, if I showed you a moving picture?” She shoved a picture frame in front of me. There was a boy with glasses, and a taller, freckly one surrounding a girl who was definitely Hermione. But when I saw that they were waving up at me, I gasped.
“What”Why”How is that possible?”
“You are a witch.”
“A witch? What do you mean?” I asked. A witch? They were just fairy tales, weren’t they? Like the witch who made Snow White eat the apple, or the ones from Macbeth.
Hermione sighed. “I couldn’t believe it when I first found out either, but look. Doesn’t it make sense? Think of all those unexplained things you’ve done.”
We talked for the better part of the day. I was entranced. Hermione talked about Muggles (non-magic people) and Hogwarts, and owls that delivered messages. She told me that a teacher from Hogwarts would be coming to see me, that I would be getting a letter. She showed me gold galleons, more moving pictures, and her spell books. When I asked her to perform a spell, she shook her head and regretfully told me that she couldn’t do magic away from school, at least until she was seventeen.
When I left that night, my head was full of the things I had heard, the objects I had seen, and the world I had been thrust into in a day.
Years later, when I was happily married, and settled down, I told my children this, while sitting around the fireplace. They couldn’t believe that I knew Hermione Granger (Now a Weasley), one of the famous three who stopped You-Know-Who.
They of course requested this story for nights after that, and when it was their turn to go to Hogwarts and experience the thrill I had when I first went there, they started their own stories.
My eldest daughter, May, is at this moment, sitting with Rose Weasley in the kitchen, gossiping about Frank Turner, and how gorgeous he is. I can’t help but laugh as I hear them, thinking that while mine and Hermione’s story is over, theirs is just beginning.
~*~
Making Things Happen by ginnygirl16
Story Notes:
Thank you to my wonderful beta's Molly (OliveOil_Med) and Carole (EquinoxChick) who were especially fast in returning my story to me so that I could get it submitted on time. Leave a review and let me know what you think!