Little Hermione
Hermione smiled at the first year as she approached her table, and moved her cardigan off the seat next to her. The little girl eyed her warily before hearing her name being called and hurrying off to join her friends at their table. Hermione put her cardi down again.
She picked at the lion sticker on her lunchbox. It was missing a leg since Owen Martin tore it off but it seemed to do ok with three. She finished her drink and placed the carton on the chair next to the cardi. She always sat on the edge of the table so there was plenty of room for others to sit there too but her belongings were usually lucky enough to have seats of their own.
She picked up her carrot sticks and looked surreptitiously around the lunch hall. If no one was watching her she could get away with eating them in peace. Having dentist parents who disapproved of sugary sweets combined with larger than average front teeth had left Hermione with a lasting dislike of the words 'rabbit', 'bugs' and most especially 'what's up' and 'doc?'
She chewed absentmindedly on a carrot as she watched the other children in the hall. She thought how silly they looked, laughing and shrieking at some nonsense she couldn't hear. She stopped chewing for a moment and tried to listen but they were too far away.
Perhaps she would wish again tonight.
She would stare out of her window, screw up her face in concentration and not feel in the slightest bit silly, because Hermione knew a secret. Wishes did come true. If she wished really, really hard for something it would come true. She had discovered this at the age of four when the cat turned pink. And once, when Jason Brown had her pinned in a corner, pinching her and pulling her hair she had got so upset that she pushed him and screamed 'GO AWAY!' Two days later his parents had a call from Scarborough police station asking them to pick up their son.
She could see him now, a couple of tables away talking animatedly to his friend Rob with the red hair. Sometimes, when no one else was looking, Rob would talk to her and tell her jokes. But she knew better than to speak to him when his friends were around.
Hermione knows they don't like her because she's a swot, and bossy, and looks like a rabbit. But she also knows something they don't. She knows that wishes come true. That's why she doesn't mind when they don't talk to her, or call her names. She knows that one day she will have friends who love her, all that she is and that she will make a difference, because she has wished for it. Every night since the cat turned pink.
A/N I don't think any of the trio really had friends before Hogwarts, but at least there's a happy ending! Hermione, I salute you.
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