The tea kettle was boiling when the doorbell rang and Mr. Granger straightened his argyle sweater to answer it. His very pretty wife and very frizzy daughter were sitting together discussing the subplots involved in Matilda—the book, of course—and he bore a smile as he opened the door. However, catching sight of the odd man on the doorstep, his smile froze and his brow furrowed.

The Grangers were a very polite family, if not a boring one, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger, as dentists, had seen every sort of oddity in London. So when the man on the porch appeared fairly normal but just felt odd, Mr. Granger was understandably uncomfortable. The man bothered him particularly because he wasn't sure what was wrong.

His slacks were fresh and clean, his shirt was crisp, and his hair was combed respectably. He was bespectacled and a quirky smile blessed his seemly face. Despite this, he was odd, and Mr. Granger thought it might have something to do with his amazement at seeing the doorbell.

"Can I ring it again, sir?" He squeaked excitedly.

Mr. Granger took a moment to recover before answering. "Of course."

The man rang the doorbell three more times before Mr. Granger interrupted with a smile and a quick question. "Can I help you?" He asked.

Mrs. Granger and their daughter were looking now, alerted to the oddity by the repeated ringing of the doorbell. Although they had closed the book a moment before, the pages of Matilda were revealed again when the cover flapped open and the odd man exclaimed excitedly when he noticed the pages rustling nervously.

"Ah! So it's you then!"

He stepped across the threshold and into the boring home of the boring Granger family who had a not-so-boring daughter.

The man sat down on the sofa and Mr. Granger, perhaps out of habit, fetched them all tea. The man, who introduced himself as Mr. Hoffsporton of the Ministry of Magic, not that that meant anything to the Grangers who were, of course, not magical at all, stirred his tea with a spoon that continued to stir even after he had let go.

The Grangers stared, entranced, and a look of slow understanding was dawning across their daughter's face.

"You're Hermione?" The man asked, pulling an envelope from—well they weren't really sure where. It seemed to simply appear in his hand but of course that was impossible.

She nodded her freckly face, not trusting her voice. She was a confident little girl but even ten-year-olds are allowed to be shy.

"Well, Hermione, you're a witch, and we want you to come to Hogwarts!" Mr. Hoffsporton smiled oddly and waited for a response.

Dumbledore and the Minister had told him to be slower about delivering the news to children in muggle families but he rather enjoyed watching their faces and it certainly made the question/answer portion of the event faster. He passed Hermione the envelope and the Grangers huddled together to read it.

They were quiet until Mrs. Granger finally piped up, "Well, my cousin Horace was a bit of an odd one, too. You don't suppose…? Well it makes sense why you've always been different. That's settled then! Where do we get these things for school?"

Mr. Granger and Hermione stared at her with their mouths popped open and their eyes bugging a bit until Mrs. Granger just shrugged. "It isn't like it doesn't make sense. You saw the book, and the cat last week, and there's so many things. But you'll be a good witch once you get some schooling!"

Mr. Hoffsporton stared, too, holding his cup of tea up to his mouth mid-sip. He swallowed hard.

"Well, yes. I suppose if it's settled we can be off. Shall we leave now for Diagon Alley?"

Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked at each other and then at Hermione and suddenly they didn't feel boring at all and they smiled at their not-so-boring daughter and retrieved their coats and left with Mr. Hoffsporton who explained that he was a muggle liaison for the Ministry of Magic—"oh and you're muggles! Well you're not, Hermione."

That day, the very polite and very boring Granger family with the not-so-boring daughter watched bricks move when a man tapped a stick on the wall and saw people in robes and cloaks and pointy hats and they saw more owls than black cats and all the bits about cauldrons and broomsticks were true! And Mr. Granger bought himself a book about household remedies for common sicknesses, but returned it when the first listing was a cure for gnome bites.

And when they went to bed that night, Mr. and Mrs. Granger snuggled and cried a bit and they continued to be boring. But Hermione Granger laid in bed all night, holding her new wand and Matilda and remembering the magic she had felt the day she realized she was not-so-boring after all.