Diary of a Sister
Chapter 1: Ophelia
It all started, I suppose, when I was 8 years old. Until then, I had a fairly normal life. I had a normal mother, and a normal father, both of whom are dentists. They were loving parents, doing fun things with my sister and me. My sister Hermione is 3 years older than I am. Although she can sometimes be bossy and a bit of a know it all, but she can also be a brave and loyal friend. Until I was 8 years old, we did everything together. Then Hermione got her letter.
My name is Ophelia Mary Granger. I don't remember very much about the day Hermione got the letter. I remember that I had the flu that day, so I was stayed in my room. I heard Hermione's shriek. I walked to the landing of the stairs and hid, in case Hermione was angry with me. She was holding her letter. She just stared at it. Mum and dad were talking quietly to each other. I didn't know what they were saying. Sitting across from my sister and my parents was a strange old man with long silver hair and half moon spectacles.
He told my parents that Hermione was a witch and she had a place at his boarding school called Hogwarts. I was devastated. I didn't want Hermione to go away. I would be alone in the house, without the best friend I ever had. Strangely enough, I didn't have trouble believing the part about the magic. All the fairy tales and fantastic stories rang true with me. Knowing Hermione, it was easy to believe she was a witch. Not that I thought she was weird or anything. It's just that weird stuff always happened around her.
When I was six and she was nine, this boy named Billy Johnson was calling us bushy haired bunnies. It's true that we both have bushy brown hair and overly large front teeth, but I remember that what that boy said was really hurtful. That's when Hermione got angry. Before then, I had never seen Hermione get angry. She was usually calm and level headed in situations like this. "Don't you dare speak to me or my sister ever again!" she had yelled. Then there was some sort of heavy wind that lifted Billy into the air and threw him into a near by pile of leaves.
I was devastated when Hermione left. She had been so excited when she learned she was a witch, and I tried to share in her enthusiasm. The strange old man that was at her house had helped her to buy her school books and supplies. In the month before Hermione was to leave for Hogwarts, her nose would always be in one of her new books. She showed me all the spells she could do with her new wand. I tried to be happy for her, I really did. I love my sister, but I couldn't help but feel a bit jealous of her.
At 8 years old, I wanted to be a witch too. I wanted to go to Hogwarts with Hermione. If I were to go to Hogwarts, things could be like how they used to be. Mum and Dad and I drove Hermione to King's Cross Station on September the first. I cried at the station, hugging Hermione and not wanting to let go. I still remember Hermione's words to me, before she crossed the barrier, as the strange man, who Hermione had told me was named Dumbledore, had instructed her to. "It'll be all right Ophelia", Hermione said, holding back her own tears. She disappeared through the brick wall between platforms nine and ten and I knew I wouldn't see her for 4 months.
On September the second, life returned to normal, without Hermione. I went back to school, and did normal things like reading and writing. I had only a few friends, but with Hermione gone, they didn't interest me much anymore. About a week after Hermione's school term began, I received a letter from her. It was like the old days, when she would talk to me about anything and everything.
Hermione told me about all of the fantastic magic she was learning. She seemed to really enjoy her lessons. Hermione seemed a bit sad during the rest of her letter. According to her, no one seemed to like her, and she could never get anything right. In her letter, she mentioned two boys, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. She wanted to be friends with Harry, but she spent at least to pages describing how handsome and smart and funny Ron was. I remember laughing at the time. Hermione was in love with a boy.
At the end of the letter, Hermione said that if I wanted to write her back, I could just write a normal letter, and tie it to the owl's leg. Although I couldn't write things that were that complex, since I was only 8, and I never had any of Hermione's brilliance, I wrote a fairly long and heartfelt letter. I told her to just be herself. Then I reminded her that I liked her, and she should just let Harry and Ron know the real her.
I spent the months until Christmas corresponding twice a week with Hermione. She told me everything that she did, thought and felt. I was informed of every little thing that was going on in her magical world. I think she told me much more than she told mum and dad. She certainly wrote to me more often. I went on with my life as usual, doing all that I normally did.
Hermione's letters gave me comfort. When I read them, I didn't feel as alone. It was as if Hermione hadn't really left me. As the weeks wore on, my jealousy disappeared. It wasn't that I didn't wish I was a witch anymore. I managed to convince myself that I was a witch, but I just didn't know it yet. Everyday I told myself that I just wasn't old enough. I just knew that my letter would come when I was 11. No matter how prepared I was to be a witch, I wasn't prepared the day that my letter came.