"All right, class. How are you all doing today?"
"Good, Mrs. Arlall"
Hermione Granger looked up at the teacher, her frizzy hair surrounding her face and didn't reply. If this was 4th grade then she might as well quit now. The teacher was already treating them like babies.
The teacher spoke again. She had a falsely sweet voice and she was wearing too much pink. Hermione sighed, and began to take notes, "This year we have a schedule we will follow. We'll start with 20 minutes of settling in then we'll go straight to art and then come back here for writing. Then we have gym and come back for math before we go to lunch. After lunch we will have science then head out to music. When we're done filling our heads with tunes, we'll come back here for snack and then social studies and have outdoor recess before it's time to go home. What does that mean? That means we have art right now. Let's go."
Hermione closed her notebook and stood up, waiting to go last in line like she always did No one shot her a glance, they were all acting like babies, wanting to be first. She rolled her eyes and got ready for another year.
One week later Mrs. Arlall came to pick them up from art with a surprise.
"This next month, we'll be writing stories."
"About unicorns?" one girl piped up.
"Or dragons?" A boy asked.
"No, outer space!" another kid yelled.
"No," said the teacher, "We'll be writing about something only we know about ourselves. Something real - something that's a secret."
While they walked back to the room, Hermione thought of what she'd like to write about. She was at a loss when she fell. A boy had tripped her and began to laugh. Hermione smacked the floor and pushed herself up, mad. With a startled yell, the boy flew up in the air and landed, with a smack, against the window. Hermione smirked. Now she knew exactly what she was going to write about.
The next month was spent writing. Every English class was spent creating their stories. Everyone was talking about writing about things like tricks they or their pets could do. Or places they wished they could go. Hermione was unique. She was writing about something special.
When they got their creations back, the air was tense. Everybody wanted a 4 on their story and many people got one.
Mrs. Arlall came up to Hermione's desk with a frown. As she passed the papers back, she whispered to Hermione, "You didn't follow the criteria. I told you to write about something real."
Hermione looked down at her paper and gasped. Next to the title was a 2. Tears stung her eyes as she shoved it in her bag, wanting to go home right then and there.
When the day was over and she went home, she threw the paper out. Later on that night a gust of wind passed through the house and picked it up. It floated through the air and landed in a pair of wrinkled old hands at the top of a tall tower. The man passed his hand over the grade and it changed to a 4. In Hermione and Mrs. Arlall's minds, the grade changed as well.
The man chuckled as he read it, and muttered, "In good time. All in good time, Hermione Granger."
My Very Own Secret3rd Person Point of View
By: Hermione Granger
Hermione Granger is a very unique girl. She does very well in school, but doesn't have many friends. This is because people can sense her secret. They can tell she is different – in a good way.
Hermione is a witch. She can do magic, but she doesn't scoff about it because she's not positive – just 99.9 sure. Whenever she's mad or angry or hurt, the person who caused the pain suffers one way or another.
But no one every suspects Hermione, because she's smart and quiet and why would she hurt anybody?
She doesn't hurt people on purpose. It just happens and there's no way to tell that she does it. There's no way to tell, except that she knows. Whenever this happens she can tell it's her. She gets a feeling of power that she doesn't have when she feels normal. When she feels normal, she's usually upset from people teasing her.
Someday she'll be around people who care about her in society because she will be greatly known as a witch. People will be frightened and she will be loved because of her poewer. She'll be happy at last.
Won't she?