It started with Winnie the Pooh. At two and a half years old, she clumsily flipped the cardboard pages of the children's book. Her mother had read the story to her so many times that she remembered every word, even some she couldn't understand how to pronounce yet.
"What do you want to read tonight, darling?" Mum would say after each Nightly Tooth-Brushing.
"Willy-nilly-silly!" Hermione would shout, and climb into Mum's lap with the book, barely conscious of her mother's fingers stroking the soft, wavy hairs on her head. Sometimes Dad would join, but he had a lot of late nights at Dentist Office, so Hermione would usually only see him during the day. Mum went to Dentist Office too, but she left early, right as Hermione was waking up.
One night, as Mum was reading the book to Hermione, something strange happened. Winnie the Pooh was stuck in the door of Rabbit's Howse (Mum had explained something about how the spelling was not Howse, but Hermione couldn't read words yet).
"'Oh, bother,' said Pooh."
Hermione giggled. "Mum, why does he say 'oh, bother' so many?"
"So much. It's because he keeps getting stuck, dear."
Hermione concentrated on the picture of Pooh stuck in the entrance to Rabbit's Howse. "He says 'oh, bother' so much. Why does no-one help him?"
"Well, they try, don't they? See how Rabbit is trying to push him through?"
Hermione traced her fingers over the picture in the book. "I want to help Pooh."
Suddenly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, the picture in the book started to move. Rabbit pulled and pulled, and Pooh went straight through the entrance to the Howse. Mum's fingers stilled suddenly, but Hermione was too enraptured to notice. "I help, Mum! I help Pooh!"
Blinking profusely, Mum picked the book up and brought it close to her eyes. "Must've been a trick of the light," she murmured.
"Mum, did you see? Pooh went!"
"Hm. Yes, he does. Later in the story."
"Mum?"
But Mum was back to her normal self, and as she lowered the book, Hermione saw that the picture had returned to normal. She wondered what Mum meant by "trick of the light"–surely the light hadn't helped Pooh? Hermione had known, somehow, as soon as the picture moved, that she was the one who was making it happen. She had wanted it badly, had wanted to help Pooh, and then she did. It was her, not the light.
But Mum had moved on, and Hermione turned her attention back to the story. The pictures did not move again.
