Author Notes: Once upon a time there was a tumblr post that suggest this idea for a story. I was intrigued.

The Greatest Witch is Discovered

Hermione had always been an unusual child, one who had never had many friends and preferred the company of books over people her age. No matter how hard her parents had tried to get her to socalise with other children, she would always end up in the corner with whatever the latest book she was reading was. The children called her a bookworm and a smarty pants, both which were true but at the same time being teased and called those things made the situation worse for the young girl.

By the time that Hermione turned seven she had come to the conclusion that she would never have any friends nor did she want any. The only friends she had were the characters in her books and she was content with that.

Or so she said.

Deep down inside her, she did crave to have a friend even just one would be nice, for someone to talk to and giggle with someone who didn't judge her on being a bookworm or so smart. She knew it would never happen though, all the children were the same.

She had always been drawn to fantasy books and at that particular moment her favourite was Matilda - she found herself drawn to the other girl in a way she had never been before. Matilda was her in many ways but the fact that she eventually found a family and a friend was amazing - she loved her parents she did but she wanted a friend more than anything.

There was something about the magic of Matilda that intrigued her though, something that made her wish that she could summon books to her much like the fictional girl did. One night though, the curiosity got the better of her. Laying in bed, Hermione propped herself up on her pillows, Matilda resting on the bookshelf across from her.

"Come here Matilda!" she said focusing on the book but nothing happened. Again and again she tried and the more she failed the madder she got. Logically she did know that it shouldn't, wouldn't work but she was desperate for it to happen. Finally she snapped, losing her temper at both herself and the book she was trying to get.

The next thing she knew was Matilda hitting her head with enough force for her to develop a massive bruise the next day. Yelping in surprising, she hadn't realised her actions had been overheard by her parents who were on their way up to bed themselves, her yelp of pain drawing their attention.

"Hermione, darling?" her mother asked as she sat on the edge of her daughters bed. "What happened?"

"I did it! I made the book come to me!" she said lifting Matilda off the bed in triumph, grinning as she did so.

Her mother blinked at her in surprise before smiling softly at her. "I'm sure you did sweetie," she told her reaching over to brush a strand of hair off Hermione's face. "Now why don't you get some sleep, it's getting late."

Hermione knew her mother didn't truly believe her but she knew for sure. "Okay," she said snuggling down into her bed. "Love you mum."

"I love you too." Even if her mother didn't believe her at that particular moment, Hermione knew what she did and she would treasure that memory, that moment forever.