Title: her favourite was control
Beta: CleopatraIsMyName
Disclaimer: This work of fiction is in no way connected to the author of Harry Potter, JK Rowling. Harry Potter is owned by her, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Canon-compliant poetical character study of Hermione Granger. This my headcanon of Hermione Granger. And this my first shot at poetry in years, so I'm pretty rusty :D This is strictly gen.
Competition(s): Written for Ra from The Legendary Gods and Goddesses Competition on the HPFC forums.
Summary: Hermione Granger had a certain way of doing things, and greatly treasured her books, maths, and control. But, of course, control was her favourite...
Hermione Granger was one of meekness and shyness, her back hunched over a tome
But the people around her, the kids at her school
They were quick-tempered and naughty, always shouting their joy
They never listened when she spoke, so she kept her silence
Unless they had angered her, but to her best knowledge
This only happened when she was entrenched within a book, away in a world
Ones of heroes and villains, and then ones of truth and fact
Books were her friends, the others were just bothers
She brushed those pests off, muted the sounds of their voices
As they mocked and they jeered, and gloated their banality
For she knew she was odd, and knew she was unique
So why did they feel the need to remind her, of those two lone extremes?
Each gloat made her stutter, and each laugh made her scowl
But she could deal with the teasings, and she could deal with the names
So with a sigh of exasperation, an exhalation of air
She ducked her head and kept to her books, to those tales that lay bare
/
She didn't like crowds, the push and the pull
Too many things were around, too many variables to gauge
They could go wrong, could all be flawed
Preciseness, exactness
Diligence, sedulousness
So she made sure of the fact, that nothing went wrong
Everything was perfect, unless she went wide of the mark
But that never happened, nothing of the sort
Because she treasured the art of exactness, she loved her maths and prose
So she made sure she was correct, and she was almost never wrong
She trudged and she kicked, said that it was a bother
But then kept her silence, went it always turned sour
She knew the crowd would thin, and she would be home within the hour
So she occupied herself with counting and reading what she saw, taking it all in stride
/ /
She knew she was special, when peculiar things happened
She wanted that cookie, the one in the jar
A book was atop of a shelf, too high for her to simply grab
With a small gasp and a gulp, a sharp intake of breath
Both the cookie and book she had sought, they would be by her side
Just what was that, what had she done?
Maybe she was Matilda; she had done strange things
Using only the power of her mind, her brain and her logic
But when Hermione tried, and she had concentrated so
She couldn't make it work, no matter what she had done
With a scoff and a shrug, a snub and a slighting
She had ruled it undependable, it was of her own invention
But at the back of her mind, she knew she had no true explanation
For the things she had done, and the things that had happened
/ / /
When she was nine, she had made friends with a girl at school
Though Hermione had bushy brown hair, and she boasted her achievements
This girl had been sly and mischievous, the Cheshire cat personified
She had confided in this girl, her first truest friend
That things had happened around her, events with no clear reasoning
That nice girl had gleamed, and with a leering-sort of smile
Had promised to keep mum, that she would never speak
Of the things Hermione had said, and of her capacity and flair
But the next day, when she had made it to school
She realized those were lies, not the truth that she had thought she knew
That friend she had made, she looked on with a grin
As the children around her whispered, mocked those things she had disclosed
Parroting back what the slick girl had told them, of the rumours they had heard
She pledged to herself that day; such a foolish error would never again occur
/ / / /
When she was eleven, she hadn't expected
That she would get, a surprise on her birthday
And envelope had arrived, right in the mail
It had been addressed to her, a precious gift from above
For her, it had vowed, a place she could thrive
"Hermione Jean Granger," it had boasted upon the left
Magic, it spoke of, was a gift she could hold
As if it were real, as if she was able
It was possible, it were of truth and substance
It would help with control, would help with that art
She liked control, and she loved to learn
Nothing would go wrong, everything would go right
Like the things she treasured, she would perfect this new craft
And make sure that the things that could go wrong, would never do so again
/ / / / /
Her parents hadn't believed her, had said it was false
That the letter she had received, the one she had treasured
Had been a scheme of sorts, that it had been a mistake
Until a woman in neatly pressed robes, and a smile on her face
Lead them all to a pub, and behind that a magical place
Then they had smiled their smiles, and grinned their grins
"Hermione, what a smart child," her mother had extoled
"Hermione, so gifted," her father had nodded as well
They had praised and applauded, had beamed and cooed
And she knew she would be alright, though it would be new
This skill she would master, would possess and control
So she bought those books and stuffs, and she even bought additions
Practicing hard and fast, burning the words into her mind
Because she would never allow anything less, for it wasn't in her nature to be uncontrolled and unrefined
Author's Note:
Please, no flames. I would, however, love to know how you felt about the way I captured her. Do you agree? Do you disagree? How do you picture her?
I'm interested in listening to those that offer concrit, too. Poetry is not my strongest style of writing. I want to improve, though :D
Oh, and lastly:
Inspired by: Creamtea's H/G Love Potion Theory (Link can be found on my profile)