Hermione watched the children around her, the people she was supposed to be consider her 'peers' but were nothing of the sort. Her cranberry dress, the exact shade as the fruit she loved so much, stood out from the rest of their dreary uniforms. Her mother had insisted she wear it today, even though dresses were rarely her favoured item of clothing. She stood out enough as it was.
Her intelligence was beyond those of the rest of her own age. Only the teachers held anything of interest to her, and even they dumbed down everything they said so that the other children could understand it.
Hermione had been forced to turn to books as a result. The books didn't know, nor did they care, about the age of their reader. The information they held remained the same no matter what. It didn't matter that she was the only one reading such books that held no pictures saved for the occasional diagram to further explain things, nor that it was the only book that held no ugly pencil scratchings within its pages.
She was a little freak to the rest of the children, but that didn't matter. They didn't know better, nor did they realise how much time they were wasting messing around as they were.
Hermione cast one more look above the edge of her book, before returning to the infinitesimally small world of the atom.
Written for October Event: Bingo [2 - cranberry]
Written for The Sims 3 Progression Challenge [Genius]