A bushy, brown-haired girl sat in front of a mirror, trying to free a brush from the tangles in her hair. This was no use. Her hair would never tame down. Hermione Granger stifled a yawn as she stared at the clock through fuzzy eyes. Six thirty. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she got up from the chair she was sitting in and walked over to her closet and looked at her clothing. What to wear…She thought to herself. She picked out a plain gray T-shirt and jeans. Patting her hair down, she walked out of her room, closing the door behind her gently.
Hermione walked down the stairs, the hard, wood floor cold to her feet's touch. As she reached the bottom of the stairs she began to pour herself cereal into a bowl before taking out milk from the refrigerator. Mixing the cereal with the milk absentmindedly, she thought of what today might bring. She let her mind drift off to academics, as usual. She thought of her school that she went to, of course, the lessons were great, but she wished the kids would stop teasing her. As she was about to take the first bite of her cereal, a scratching noise was heard at the window.
Hermione looked at the window; an owl was scratching at it, and with a letter! How could this happen? Owls only come out at night – logically, and according to her books. They don't carry letter either. This is when she realized something odd was going on. "Mom..? Dad…?" She said loudly.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger were already up and reading, as they usually did on Saturday mornings. They quickly changed out of their pajamas and put on other clothing. "Yes Minnie, sweetie?"
Hermione wordlessly pointed to the window. The owl was now impatiently scratching.
"An..owl…" Mr. Granger said dumbfounded.
"I guess we should let it in," Hermione pointed out.
"Ah, yes," Mrs. Granger agreed, walking over to the window and opening it.
The owl flew through the window and dropped the letter near the bowl of cereal. Then it flew over to the window sill, perching on it.
Hermione looked curiously at the letter. "A letter? For me? Who would be sending me a letter from an owl?" She opened the letter and read it over. "I'm a witch…?
Mr. and Mrs. Granger exchanged looks. That would probably explain the books falling off the bookshelves whenever she walked by, and the glue dripping on the children that teased Hermione.
"But aren't witches evil?" She asked worriedly. No, she couldn't be evil. She was too…smart to be evil. In fact, she thought she was quite nice.
"How could you be a witch though?" Mr. Granger wondered aloud.
Tears began to fill Hermione's eyes. "No! I'm not something terrible!" She shouted at her parents before running off to her room.