Orange? Where did it go? Last time she checked, it was right there. She glanced around the wooden desk wondering where it could have gone. She needed it to finish her picture. Just that one orange crayon. She leaned back in her chair to scan the floor by her feet to see if it fell off her desk while she wasn't looking but there was no luck. It wasn't there. She sighed and shook her head, disappointed. Looks like all of her hard work was for nothing.
Laughs from around the room caught her attention, causing her to look around the classroom for the first time since recess started. Ms. Fielding was reclined in her wheeled chair, not even sparing a glance from her magazine to check on what her class was doing. She was definitely not the greatest or hard working teachers the school had ever seen. But she was nice enough to the children, which, when working with eight year olds, was the only thing that really mattered. Her appearance never missed a chance to catch someone's eye, though. She always wore a grey or black suit, with shoes that never matched. She wore thick-framed, pink glasses that covered her usual ruddy job of eyeliner that made the students laugh, and cheap, bright pink lipstick that always ended up on the apples she eats during recess.
A group of boys occupied the right corner of the classroom, all laughing about a joke that wasn't that funny to begin with. Three girls sat in the front, gossiping about boys, as usual. And other children were spread among the wall all enjoying the time with their friends. But she wasn't. She never would. She was always alone, either coloring a picture, or reading a book. No one ever wanted to talk to her. She was weird. Her hair was too bushy. Her teeth were too square. Her knowledge was too intimidating. And her people skills weren't the best. She grew to except that fact.
But, she wasn't bullied, in her eyes. Sometimes, being alone hurt but that was because…what was it because of? She never knew. She tried talking to Joshua once, and he giggled to his friends and walked away. Marybeth once complimented her on her new dress but never spoke to her again. Hermione didn't have many friends at school. That was that. It had always been that way. Yet, she was used to it.
Hermione peeled her eyes off of her surroundings and back to her picture. It was a picture of her friends. Well, friends she knew she would have one day. In the front stood herself, smiling, in a purple, striped shirt, hands on her hips, with eyes as bright as can be. Next to her stood a shorter girl, with orange hair and green overalls. The girl was holding a book and seemed quite happy. Others were gathered around them, a black haired boy, a brunette boy, a blonde girl, and a bald boy. Or bald for the moment. She just needed her orange crayon to finish the job, and give the boy his hair. But the crayon was no where to be found.
She stared at her desk concentrating on the pile of crayons in front of her. Maybe it will just magically pop in front of her. But that can never happen. Wherever the crayon was it would stay until she finds it, or the cleaning ladies sweep it away. And one thing that her grandmother assured her way back when she was five was that magic never existed. But in her heart, Hermione believed it did exist.
She closed her eyes tightly, to rid the thought of her grandmother's words from her mind. It existed. It existed. It existed. It just did. She opened her eyes once more, to a pile of crayons, lying on a desk, with a bright orange one on the top…wait a minute. That was not there before.
"Hermione, dear, is that you?" Hermione heard her mum from the kitchen. She closed the front door and dropped her bag. She needed to tell her mother what happened during recess. It had been bothering her since it happened. "How was school today, sweetheart?" Her mother asked tiredly as she dried a dish.
"Mum, I think I've gone mad. My orange crayon poofed in front of me during recess." Hermione said quick with worry. Her mum giggled at her, shaking her head.
"I'm sure it was just your eyes playing tricks on you. Things can't just poof in front of you, I hope you know that." Hermione rolled her eyes, she knew it happened, it wasn't her mind.
"Where's dad?" Hermione asked as slyly as possible.
"In the study." Her mum answered while setting a dish in the cupboard. Hermione swiftly walked across the hall to the room at the end. She knocked on the door quietly and heard a low pitched, 'come in' before cautiously walking inside.
"Dad. I have something to ask you." Hermione said taking a seat across from her dad at the desk.
"Yes, what is it?" He asked setting his papers down and folding his hands.
"Is magic real?" Her dad looked taken back for a moment.
"Why do you ask?"
"I'm just curious." She said sweetly.
"I believe that anything exists if you believe it does."
"But do you believe in it?" Hermione asked a little more impatiently. There was a long pause before,
"No, sweetie. I don't." Hermione sighed heavily before leaving her dad, and going back into her room.
She sat on her bed and took the folded drawing out of her pocket. She opened it up, and smiled at the picture of her and her 'friends' before turning the paper over. She walked over to her vanity and picked up the pencil that lain on its side.
'Magic does exist. I know it.' Hermione wrote on the back of the paper before opening up the drawer that was filled with laughing friends' faces and placing the drawing in it.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Ms. Granger,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall.
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Hermione reread the letter over and over and over again. What does all of this mean? Witchcraft and Wizardry? Owl? Hogwarts? Minerva McGonagall? Who's she? Who's the 'International Confederation of Wizards' and why is 'Albus Dumbledore' apart of it? She looked over her shoulder to see if either of her parents was awake yet. Neither had come down the stairs. That gave her time to analyze the strange letter.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She'd never heard of that before. Was that school in Britain? You'd think you'd hear of it if it was. She flipped open the 'enclosed list' to see what this place really was.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
UNIFORM
First year students will require:
Three sets of plain work robes (black)
One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' cloaks should carry name tags.
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set of glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set of brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.
Now Hermione was confused. Where in the world would she find all these things? In her local supermarket? This 'school' didn't seem like a scam, everything looks so official. But, if it is a real school, and is for witches and wizards, and is sending her a letter to join…does that mean…
"Hermione, you're up early." Her mother started the young eleven year old from behind.
"Um, Mum, if I was accepted into a really good boarding school, would you let me go?" Hermione asked sweetly.
"And why do you want to know that?"
"Just curious."
"Well, if it's good, and you absolutely, positively wanted to go. I'd let you."
"Well, I think I've found that boarding school. And I've been accepted." Hermione said holding the letter as if it was a prized first place trophy.
Her mother furrowed her eyebrows and grabbed the paper out of her daughters' hands. She read through both the letters then looked back at Hermione.
"Witchcraft and Wizardry? But, you haven't done anything magical to be a witch." Her mother said taking a seat next to her daughter.
"No. Remember way back when I was in Ms. Fielding's class? I came home and I told you about that crayon that 'poofed' in front of me?" Her mother nodded slowly, "I think I did it. I think I am a witch. Mum, maybe this is a sign of making new friends. I can finally find people to relate to." Hermione said almost hoping her mum would agree.
"Well, if it means that much to you, we'll go send these people a letter asking how we buy these cauldrons and scales." Her mum said smiling.
"Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, mum!" Hermione said hugging her mother tightly.
She raced to her room, and shut the door behind her. She rushed to her vanity and quickly opened the drawer where the old picture of her and her 'friends' lain on the top still smiling up at her.
"I'll finally get to meet you guys." Hermione whispered, smiling.
"Hermione! Where do you want me to put these boxes?!"
"I dunno! Put them in the living room and we'll go through them!"
The ginger man sighed placing three large boxes in the middle of the room, and waiting for his beautiful fiancée to join him.
"Anyways, I don't even know if I'm going to want all of this stuff. Most of its probably junk anyways." She said opening the first box up.
Ron followed her by opening up the second box. The first thing that caught his eye was a paper that said 'Magic is real. I know it is.' He furrowed his eyebrows, not saying anything, before flipping the paper over and giggling.
"You know, Hermione, you forgot Harry's glasses, and scar." Ron said showing her the picture. Hermione gasped, as she noticed what he was talking about.
"Oh my goodness." Hermione said grabbing the picture and smiling down at it.
"Yeah, I know. No where near Van Gogh but does have some quality—"
"No. You don't understand. I didn't draw this after I went to Hogwarts. I drew this way before I even knew of it."
"No… 'Mione…look, there's Luna, and then me, then you, and Neville, Ginny and Harry with no glasses or scar." Harry said pointing to everyone.
"No. Ron. You don't understand. I drew this when I was eight or something. Way back when I went to muggle school. I wasn't very popular, I'll have you know, and my only friends were…" Hermione trailed off not wanting to continue that thought.
"Well, I'm happy to be one the firsts."
"How did you know?" Hermione asked embarrassed.
"Pictures have a million meanings, and I catch on quick."