Hermione Jean Granger was not an ordinary girl. By the age of two she was reading National Geographic magazines on her own. At three, she was doing her father's crossword puzzles. By four, she was making crosswords for Mr Granger to solve. Hermione had an extraordinary gift for solving puzzles and a curiosity that drove her to learn. This wasn't the only thing extraordinary about Hermione Granger. Not in the slightest.

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She had ordinary parents. Mr Granger was a tall thin man with light brown skin and curly hair. He wore button down shirts and prided himself on un-scuffed shoes. Mrs Granger had short kinky hair, beautiful dimples, and dark brown skin. She had an athletic disposition and often went on morning walks, priding herself on good health. Hermione was an only child, and undoubtedly the family's biggest pride and joy.

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There wasn't a family on Bourdon Street that could have more love. Mr and Mrs Granger were dentists, and they told the story of how they met to anyone who would listen.

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"I was just starting out in medical school," Mr Granger would say.

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"He was going to be a brain surgeon, I recall," Mrs Granger would add.

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"And I'd gotten completely turned around, found myself in the orthodontial department..."

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Here, Mrs Granger would laugh, sometimes muttering "The man couldn't tell the top of a head from the bottom of one."

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"I was so flustered when I found my mistake. But I'd already sat down next to the most beautiful girl, and there was no way I was gonna turn and run. And when Jeanie smiled, that's when I knew I was gonna be a dentist. Mostly so I could keep going to class with the bright-smiling orthodontia student, but also so that I could spend my life helping keep smiles healthy."

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This always led to some kindhearted teasing from Jean Granger and a warm smile from Carlton Granger.

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Growing up in such a loving household that encouraged her curious nature, Hermione was naturally excited to begin school. But she soon found that her gifts weren't as celebrated by her peers as they were at home. No one in primary school was interested in the evolution of dung beetles, which Hermione had read so excitedly about in a magazine brought home by her father. No one wanted to hear about the history of the War of the Roses when they could be playing Red Rover. And the other children simply didn't know how to make friends with Hermione when she said her favorite color was ultraviolet, a color no human eye could see. She must've been making ultraviolet up just to seem smart. The schoolteachers saw her potential, but by the students Hermione was horribly bullied.

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Her name was mispronounced in school. She would correct people often, which only added to her status as a know it all. Her-My-Oh-Nee. It wasn't that hard to say. Not a common name, but certainly not unheard of. Shakespeare had used it. Another peg against her were her buck teeth, which were celebrated by her parents but got her called names in school at the worst point of her bullying.

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In her third year of primary school, Hermione had been helping to tidy the classroom by erasing the chalk board. The other students were organizing their desks while her teacher sat at the back of the room in her chair, grading spelling tests. Outside the window, a squirrel was chittering away. Hermione had just read an article about flying squirrels and said, to no one in particular, "Did you know that some squirrels can fly? Well, more like gliding really, they use a patagium to-"

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"No one cares about squirrels, Hermione," a boy, Thomas, at the front of the class moaned, "Just finish what you're doing, we've been learning all day already."

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"Bushy hair, buck teeth, always making noise," a particularly nasty bully named Irwin teased, "No wonder she cares. Squirrel girl!"

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Hermione held her head high. "I am not, Irwin. You take that back!"

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"Squirrel girl, squirrel girl, squirrel girl!"

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And then something really odd happened. Hermione has never felt so angry before. She just wanted smack him. Just before she could snap back at him with choice words, the chalkboard eraser flung itself off of the board where she'd left it right into Irwin's face. A big cloud of chalk dust surrounded him and he sneezed a big sneeze. Hermione could've sworn the dust cloud was shaped like an acorn. "WhA- Hermione threw the eraser at me!"

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"No, I didn't," Hermione said, surprised, "I mean, I didn't mean to..."

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"That's enough," the teacher had chided. "I heard the whole thing. Irwin, you shouldn't tease Hermione like that. And Hermione, it isn't right to throw things at your classmates. You should know better. I'm sending a note home to both of your parents." This was enough to make Hermione cry. She'd always been a star student. Even with her know-it-all tendencies, teachers had always been on her side.

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Her parents responded to the note by telling her not to worry too much. They knew she had a bright mind. "Just keep chasing that grade, Hermione," Mr Granger told her, "If I let kids in school get to me, I wouldn't be a dentist today. You believe in books and you believe in learning."

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After that day, Hermione dove even deeper into reading. If Hermione Granger was the know-it-all, then she would really know it all. History, mathematics, science...she would learn everything she could. She ended up spending most of her time at the public library. As she grew, Hermione also started to notice some strange things. She was often followed by black cats on her way home. Sometimes when reading, Hermione would think of turning a page and found it had turned on its own. Books from shelves too tall for her to reach would fall into her outstretched hand. But these things were impossible...weren't they?

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The Brunish Library was one block from her house and became her favorite after school activity. Hermione made great friends with the librarians and even made friends with a girl a few years older than her named Yasmin, who often came to the library to study.

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One day at the library, Hermione was looking at an impossible to reach copy of Shakespeare's Macbeth. Hermione glanced at the step stool. She took a deep breath. No, she wouldn't need that. Hermione stretched out her hand.

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Fall, she thought.

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But nothing happened. It only worked sometimes. Had she been imagining it?

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"Here, let me get that for you," a kindly voice said. Hermione looked up to see an old librarian, Mr Gunner, reaching for the book. Mr Gunner wore blue rimmed spectacles and an old tweed jacket. Today, he was wearing a bright pink bow tie and bold yellow socks. He handed her the play. "A grim tale, full of curses and witches."

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"Thank you, sir," Hermione said sheepishly. Although she knew Mr Gunner, she felt embarrassed being caught trying to will a book into her hand.

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Mr Gunner smiled, "My pleasure, Miss Granger. You are an extraordinary reader. Sometimes the books just leap off the shelves to you, don't they?"

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Hermione nodded. Had he seen it before?

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"I don't often see you reading fiction," Mr Gunner said, "What's the occasion?"

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"My school is doing an abridged version of Mac- err, the Scottish Play, this Halloween, the class voted on it. I wanted to read the real thing," Hermione said. She had read a superstition that saying the play's name out loud would lead to mishaps: forgotten lines, missing costume pieces, missed cues.

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"Hmm, so you know about the name curse," Mr Gunner laughed, then tapped his nose. "Best not to speak taboos...Mackers does fine. Well, I very much hope you enjoy it. And word to the wise," the librarian leaned in like sharing a secret, "Those Weird Sisters aren't all bad, yknow. Maybe cursing the name of the play is their way to teach Muggles a harmless lesson."

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Before Hermione could ask what a Muggle was, Mr Gunner was called away to help sort a rather large stack of books.

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"Mum," Hermione asked that night at dinner. "There's a word the librarian used today that I can't find in a dictionary. May I ask you it? I don't know what it means, it might be a bad word."

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"You can ask me anything, sweet pea," Mrs Granger said, placing some green beans on her daughter's plate. "What makes you think it might be a bad word?"

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Hermione picked at her food. "Well, it's not in the dictionary. So it might be made up. Do you know what a muggle is? Mr Gunner used it as a noun."

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"I haven't heard that word before," Mrs Granger said cautiously. "Carlton, have you heard of 'muggle'?"

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"No, I haven't," said Mr Granger. "Did this word make you feel bad, Hermione?"

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"No, it didn't," Hermione said, "I'm just curious."

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Mr Granger nodded, "Well, curious is alright. It's probably some new slang. That's why it's not in the dictionary yet. I'll ask around, Hermione. And you just let that word alone until I can figure out what it means."

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"So," Mrs Granger said, changing the topic, "Let's all enjoy this healthy meal, the beans are from the garden by the way. Froze 'em this summer, thank you very much...why don't you tell us more about that Halloween play, Hermione? Are you trying out for it?"

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"The roles will be drawn from a hat," Hermione said, "We can opt out and do backstage instead. I might do that."

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"Why not give acting a try?" Mr Granger asked, "You've been backstage for every school play, it might be fun to try something new."

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Hermione took a bite of sweet potato mash and thought about this. "Well, I suppose I could. I've always liked doing the sound cues."

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"Well, you never know until you try," Mrs Granger said, "This is the one about the Scottish king, right? I never liked that one. Much too scary. The one with the fairies is more my speed."

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Dinner carried on like this, with her parents talking about their days and reminding her to always floss. Her dad asked her to let him know what sort of book she might like for her birthday, if more fiction might be interesting to her. As she talked with her parents, Hermione smiled and thought of how fun it might be to be seen. She could be the narrator, telling the epic tale of a soldier who overthrew a king only to be overthrown himself in the end. Or she could be a Weird Sister, or better yet the Lady Macbeth. The thought excited her. If she said her lines well enough, maybe the other kids would forget about her bushy hair and buck teeth. Maybe they would instead see a powerful witch or a cunning Queen. Hermione Granger could be someone else to the kids at school entirely, if only for an hour or so.

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That night, when Hermione Granger went to bed she was buzzing with excitement. Try outs were tomorrow and she was going to really show off. She went to sleep without noticing the owl sitting outside her window.