Author's Note:
This was originally up on Ginny-the-red-head's page, because I recently got my account. Big thanks to her for that. This is a mostly true story that was originally for my English class. I just changed the names around, because I feel like it totally fit Hermione. It is based off of my friend, and yes, there were mean girls and a note. On Hermione's non-exhibition of magic, even though she is very emotional and upset, I feel that she would have had a better handle on her emotions and powers than, say, Harry. Tell me what you think, and thanks for reading.
I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.
The Picnic
She gazed across the room at him, her head in her hand, and sighed. She mentally shook herself as the bell rang, signaling the start of recess. It was their last year in elementary school, their last year of recess. Hermione was determined to make the most of it.
A few minutes later, she sat in her desk, her book forgotten, and stared out the window at the falling snow. She sighed and looked back down at her book. She had barely read a paragraph when she was interrupted by a giggle behind her. Her back stiffened. The girls constantly watched her like a pack of vultures, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. She turned around and saw three of them.
"We know," one of the girls said matter-of-factly.
"Know what?" Hermione asked.
The three girls erupted into a fit of giggles until one of them composed herself long enough to say, "Who you like."
Hermione glanced at them, starting to feel faintly annoyed. "Who?" she asked.
The third girl leaned forward, lowered her voice to a whisper, and looked around. "Davey," she said, conspiringly.
Hermione nodded and swallowed the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat. "So what?"
The three girls glanced at each other and resumed their laughter. "I knew it!" One of them shrieked. "I told you so!"
"You won't tell anyone, will you?" Hermione asked them worriedly.
"Never," they smirked and flounced to the corner, where they sat down and started writing on a piece of paper. Occasionally, one of them would look up at her and giggle.
Over the next ten minutes, Hermione's sense of trepidation mounted. The girls never walked away from her like that. She knew that they were up to something. However, she forgot about the foreboding feeling in her stomach as they were dismissed for lunch.
A few minutes into lunch, Davey himself came over to Hermione's table. The three girls from Hermione's class followed him. He dropped a piece of paper on the table, and Hermione watched it fall, as if it was in slow motion. Davey took a deep breath and started shouting. All eyes immediately swiveled over to them.
"I WILL NEVER GO OUT WITH YOU. I WILL NEVER GO ON A PICNIC WITH YOU. I WILL NEVER GO ON A DATE WITH YOU."
Hermione glanced at the three girls and saw them laughing uncontrollably. One of them mimed unfolding something to her and another gestured to the note. She reached for the paper and quickly scanned it. She reread it, and Davey's shouts mixed with the sound of the laughing girls to create a hideously ugly noise. She burst into tears, got up and ran from the lunchroom. She flew past the three laughing girls and her startled teacher, who was the lunch monitor that day.
When she reached the safety of the bathroom, she reread the note, her vision blurring from the tears.
Dear Davey,
I really, really like you. Will you go on a picnic with me this Friday?
Love,
Hermione
She heard the bathroom door open and shut with a bang. She turned around, ready for more torture from her classmates. She was surprised to see her teacher standing there.
"Oh Hermione," she said, and gave her a tissue. She took the note and quickly read it, her eyes flying across the now wet paper. She pursed her lips, handed back the soggy paper, and looked up at the girl. "It will get better. In twenty years, or even earlier, you will be the smart one. And all of those mean bullies will be less smart than you. You will be the owner of a very wealthy company, and they will be the ones working for you. Trust me, life gets better," She smiled a sad little smile and walked back to the door. She turned back. "Besides," she added, her eyes moving in the direction of the window before she looked back at Hermione again. "Who would want to have a picnic in the snow?" Hermione laughed, and her teacher left, satisfied.
Hermione faced the mirror and dried the rest of her tears. She turned and looked out the window at the falling snow and smiled to herself. Somehow, she knew that her teacher was right. "It will get better," she whispered to herself, and left the bathroom, ready to face the girls again.
Over the summer, right before her eleventh birthday, she got a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She made new friends that September, and found a new boy to crush on, a boy with freckles and red hair. She became known as one of the wizards that saved the world. And times when she got another perfect score from her teachers, mastered the spell they were learning, or had another heart to heart with her friends, she would find herself thinking of her old teacher. When something extraordinarily great would happen, she would smile at her friends and think, "Maybe she was right, after all."