XIV.
Mr. Granger was a simple man in District 12. He was a squib like his wife, Mrs. Granger. Detailed records showed the last witch in the family was on Mr. Granger's mother's side, four generations up.
Like his father before him, he was a dentist. He went through it the manual way. He yanked out decayed teeth with some metal tools, held his breath as he examined a set of rotten teeth, and smiled brightly while he flossed a nicely set of slightly but naturally yellowed teeth.
When Hermione was born, he knew she was different. It wasn't for the fact the Grangers always had a male firstborn, though he supposed that may had been the first clue. From the very moment she was born, her wide brown eyes were open. For lack of better words, he would say, she gawked at the world around her.
She did not cry.
It was her playground, a place to experiment. She satisfied her own curiosity by quietly observing as he worked from a very young age. She spoke well, not in the same sense as other babies of her age did.
The questions she asked. . .
Daddy, why was that tooth bleeding?
Daddy, what was the stick he was holding?
Daddy, what is your job title?
Dad, what is the Hunger Games?
It was the question about the Hunger Games when she was 7 that made him realized how conformed he became to the idea of the Hunger Games. The stifling presence, the sacrifice of twenty-three children every year.
He realized his daughter could be chosen. And with that realization, he and his wife encouraged her to be the top of the class, to learn more, to remember more spells, to be beyond exemplary. To be beyond extraordinary. They pushed her into dueling club, nature club, and such, watching with bemusement as she formed clubs like S.P.E.W., Homework Club, Teeth Cleaning, and the secretive, treasonous Anti-Capitol District 12 Citizens. Or the AC12 Club, as it was known by the peers with their magical coins.
If she was ever picked, Mr. Granger knew she had a chance to live to the bitter end. Maybe he was being selfish by telling her to do anything to survive, no matter what, on that dark night her twelve year old classmate was picked.
He was relieved she wasn't picked, that another child had died instead.
She really was the daughter he was proud of and always will be. As a witch, she was able to help him in the dentistry practice in magical ways. Spells to remove pain, spells to restore the teeth enamel. Spells to make teeth a brightening white. He knew she dived deeply into the books for information, studying beyond the spells and magic taught by the schools.
Their backyard was her practice area.
It contained evidence of exploded potions that failed. The schools of District 12 taught simple potions, but Hermione went further than that. How much further?
He didn't know other than some powerful pain relieving potions she brewed for patients undergoing surgery. They were so potent that the doctor's practice two streets down paid for some bottles to be sent at the monthly rate.
He watched the screen in the District Square. Her district partner was dead, and he felt nothing but relief that she was one step closer to home.
14 dead with the bloodbath. Skeeter said it was the second deadliest bloodbath in Hunger Games history.
He was glad that it was and she had lived.