I have been searching for a story about Hermione's pre-Hogwarts days for two months now. I only found one, which was incredibly boring, in which case I came to the conclusion that I might as well write my own. Now then, know that this story will be an anthology of drabbles and so will always be "complete". But rest assured, I will be updating. Though, it won't be frequent updates, as I am still focused on my other story, I will write when the plot bunnies tell me to and when I have time. Either way, Read, Review, and Enjoy!
Five circular strokes on the outer-middle, five circular strokes on the outer-right, five circular strokes on the outer-left, five strokes on the lower-inner-middle, five strokes on the lower-inner-right, five strokes on the lower-inner-left, five strokes on the upper-inner-middle, five strokes on the upper-inner-right, five strokes on the upper-inner-left. Repeat five times. Spit. Gulp half a glass of water and slosh around five times. Spit. Smile into mirror.
Hermione Jean Granger could find no residue of overnight germ 'festations anywhere in her mouth. Her teeth were as white as always, and looking closer, it seemed as though they were slightly less crooked then the day before. Now, if only she could get the same success with her hair.
Mrs. Aurora Jean Granger, Hermione's doting mother, was like all doting mothers as she wanted her daughter to look her best on the first day of school (especially if it was the first day of a new school, in a new neighbourhood, with new neighbours). So, it was only obvious for Mrs. Granger to spend a full four hours straightening, and styling Hermione's hair to perfection. Unfortunately, that was yesterday and seeing as today was today, Hermione had woken from a long night's sleep, not with perfectly straight and stylish hair, but the usual imperfectly bushy and hideous kind.
Fortunately for Hermione (though, it was still an "unfortunately" for her mother) she held very little care for her appearances (which was about the same amount as any six year old) and so, was not bothered by this little mishap. The cute-as-a-button-if-you-ignored-the-appalling-hair girl had her mind wrapped around things of more import. Such as (and mainly), whether or not she was fully prepared for the thirty question calculus pop quiz they were going to have on the first day of school (according to her ten year old cousin, Herbert, who lived two floors down).
Though, Hermione wasn't as worried as a six year old should be, when faced with a thirty question calculus pop quiz. She had already studied basic algorithms and quadratic equations over the summer, and surely no teacher would be so cruel as to push anything harder then that onto a six year old. At least, the grade two'er hoped so.