The Expectations of an Insufferable Know-it-all
Her hands shook as she broke the seal. Her quickness in opening the letter belied her hesitation in finding her results — she had been petrified for a good few weeks, and she had lost oh so much study time. She was sure she was going to fail!
Despite that belief, Hermione was barely surprised as she stared at the row of perfect O's, some marked with asterisks to show how she had scored more than a hundred percent because of extra credit. She could feel a happy bubble growing inside of her, though, until her eyes zoomed in on something she had not noticed in the first glance. As she stared at the tiny letter, Hermione felt her legs give out, and she found herself falling, falling.
The stone was cold, and so grew her heart at she looked at the unacceptable 'A' printed against 'Potions' that now stood out like a sore thumb. How had this happened? Where had she failed?
She scrambled through the thick wad of answer-sheets attached, and another 'A' was marked on top. Hermione let out a loud sob. The grade had shattered her heart — even an Exceeds Expectations would have been nicer than this… this very unacceptable grade. That one sob was followed by another, then another, until the teenager was a crying mess, her answer sheets crumpled between her hands. She would be horrified at her treatment of all the beautiful outstandings later.
Finally done crying two hours later, the girl stood up, and a resolute expression formed on her face. She was Hermione Granger, and she would show Snape how high her expectations were for herself. She would not fail herself again, and she was going to get all O's, even if it killed her. She would show him how insufferable she could really be, when challenged like this.
She had already signed up for all the electives, and if she was being honest with herself, Hermione regretted it a little bit just then, because perhaps she would be spread too thin to achieve the sky-high expectations she had already set for herself?
It was then that her salvation flew off the table and landed on the floor, right next to where she was sitting — a note she had previously ignored.
Dear Miss Granger,
Upon inspection of your chosen electives, I've realised that due to the way the time-table is arranged, it's impossible for you to attend every class.
That said, after giving it due thought, I wrote to the Ministry on your behalf to allow you to proceed with the classes you have specified.
While I'm not entirely convinced this is the best idea, you are a diligent and quite remarkable student. The Ministry of Magic have issued you a Time Turner, which will permit you to 'do over' hours so that you can attend double classes when it's a necessity.
This is a privilege given to a select few students, Miss Granger, and not something to be taken lightly. I believe I know you well enough that you will not abuse the trust awarded to you.
Please see me at the beginning of the term, where we will go over the rules and the uses of the time turner.
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Hermione couldn't stop the 'Whoop!' that escaped her, feeling ecstatic. Now she could do what she wanted, without having to ever worry about not having enough time!
When Hermione got onto the Express that year, she had a slightly maniacal grin on her face. She mellowed somewhat as Harry told them about the Sirius Black situation, and the dementors were terrifying, but if she could have, Hermione was sure she still would have skipped all the way from Hogwarts Express to the Great Hall.
Professor McGonagall pulled her and Harry aside, though, and once her bespectacled best friend was shipped off to the infirmary, Hermione turned to the professor, more than a little impatient to finally get her hands on the promised treasure.
Listening to the instructions was an agony — surely she could read about it in the library later — and she was so glad when McGonagall finally let her go. Ducking into the nearest bathroom, she turned the hourglass six times — that was the maximum limit, and Hermione silently promised to herself to increase it one day — and after the slightly nauseating spin, found herself in the same spot.
When she walked out, though, the corridor was completely silent. It was a Hogwarts without her students, and Hermione had always wished to roam through the halls without anyone there to interrupt her. And if a house-elf said she kissed the necklace once, Hermione would vehemently deny the claim.
The year passed, at half the speed, or twice as fast for her, Hermione couldn't say. She hated it, though, when Harry commented how she looked like she could use some sleep, or when Ron said she was bonkers for studying all her subjects. She managed to help them, too, though. She could honestly say she cared for the boys as just friends, even if a tiny voice whispered that she was also keeping potential-boyfriend options open, and she saved Harry from what was surely a hexed Firebolt.
The argument that followed hurt her a lot and consumed too much of her time, and in the days that followed, Hermione was using the time-turner to its maximum limit, living 48 hours a day. With helping Hagrid, attending all the classes, doing all the homework, working on extra-credit, and all the extra reading to ensure a perfect score, though, Hermione told herself her usage of the magical device was justified.
It left her tired, hungry (she couldn't eat twice in the Great Hall during a single meal, could she? And she didn't know the way to the kitchens!) and on edge all the time, but Hermione could only see the goal she had expected herself to fulfil, and she would do it, dammit!
Even at half the pace, the exams arrived all too soon, and Hermione panicked before, during, and after the exam, driving Ron and Harry mad with all her cross-questions. ("I think I forgot to mention the fifth alternative for billywig sting in the wideye potion in question four!")
A few weeks later, Hermione was in her room, reading a dictionary out of boredom, for the seventieth time, when an owl flew in.
She scrambled to get off the bed, the dictionary falling to the floor — she could apologise to it later — and untied the letter. Ripping it open, she pulled out the grade sheet, staring at all the O's followed by distinction asterisks on the list, bar one. It was just an Outstanding, despite all the extra work she had put in, and Hermione let out a scream. Snape might call her the insufferable one, but in reality, if they had to compare, they would for sure find more people who couldn't stand the esteemed professor.
She was a bit happy, though — at least she had all O's.
With a tiny, real, smile playing on her lips, for the first time in a whole year, she opened her Hogwarts trunk that sat at the foot of her bed. She threw everything on the bed, uncaring at this moment, until she got to the very bottom where she had buried the last year's Potions' answer sheet.
There, right under the 'A' that still brought a single tear to her eye, was a tiny note:
"For a second-year insufferable know-it-all who could brew Polyjuice in a toilet, a vermilion swelling solution instead of the required red is unacceptable."
Non-canon compliant.
Count: 1280 words
Written for QLFC as Beater 1 of Falmouth Falcons.
Prompts: Write about making a mountain out of a molehill, (genre) parody, (word) insufferable