THE LETTERS FROM NO ONE

HERMIONE

The bell trilled to signal the end of not only the day, but of Hermione's final year at primary school. As a great cheer went up around the classroom and the pupils piled recklessly through the door, Hermione slung her heavy bag over her shoulder and picked up the other four books that didn't fit in her bag. She was the last to leave.

'Come on, Hermione,' smiled Mrs Honeysett, holding open the door. 'Aren't you ready for the summer holidays?'

'Yes, Mrs Honeysett – really, I am,' said Hermione fervently. She stared around the empty classroom for one last time. 'But I am going to miss coming here again. Thank you for making this year so fun.'

'Oh, not at all, my dear, not at all,' said Mrs Honeysett, who was looking rather emotional. 'Thank you for being such an excellent pupil. I predict a very bright future for you, Hermione. You're a special girl. Now, off you go and enjoy the rest of your summer.'

Hermione grinned her toothy grin and left through the door with a hasty wave. Peering over her stack of books, she headed down the main corridor and out into the glorious sunshine with mixed feelings. She would miss her lessons, and Mrs Honeysett; more than anything, she would miss her best friend Sophie, who, along with many of their classmates, would be starting at one of the local comprehensives in North London without her.

There were reasons to be happy, too, of course. Hermione had been accepted into the prestigious Henrietta Barnett Girls' Grammar School, something she was very proud of. This had, however, attracted plenty of jeers and jibes from the school bully, Becky, and her cronies Madge and Derek. Hermione knew why, of course: they were jealous. They couldn't outscore Hermione in a test even if they combined their scores. But their incessant teasing had reduced Hermione to tears a couple of times. Another reason she was glad to leave.

'OI! Granger!'

Hermione had almost reached the bus stop but the familiar voice from behind caused her to halt and turn. Her heart sank.

It looked as though Becky, Madge and Derek were here to torment her one last time.

'Oh, hello,' said Hermione coldly.

'Oh, hello,' mocked Madge and Derek in overly-snobbish voices. Madge was squat with huge gold earrings and Derek was a scrawny ferret-faced boy with a buzz cut.

Becky, who was tall, dark-haired and considered to be the best-looking girl in the year, smirked.

'Whatchu in a hurry for, Posho? Didn'tchu wanna say goodbye to us? We might never see each other again.'

'That's fine by me,' said Hermione, and she spun around with her nose in the air. Next thing she knew, Becky had grabbed a handful of her bushy hair.

'Ouch!'

Becky turned Hermione around until they were face to face. Hermione stared up at the girl she disliked so much, willing her tears of pain to hold off.

'Don'tchu be rude to me,' Becky whispered dangerously. 'If you ain't gonna say goodbye to us, then we'll say goodbye to you. Now, seeing as you like lessons so much, we're gonna teach you one of our own.'

On cue, Derek reached forward and snatched the topmost book from Hermione's stack. Hermione made to grab it back, but Becky tightened her grip and Hermione fell back, shaking with rage.

After flicking through the volume and declaring it 'Borrrring' Derek dropped it in a puddle.

'That's a shame,' smiled Becky. 'Madge, what about the next one?'

'Let's see,' said Madge gleefully.

As Madge extended a fat hand, Hermione's anger peaked – and not for the first time in her life, something incredible happened.

The book came to life and snapped at Madge's hand, and her scream pierced the air. Once she had run away, it began attacking Derek, who cowered in panic and tried to bat the flying book away.

Then the other two books jumped from Hermione's arms and she watched in awe as they began smacking against Becky's head. The bully finally relinquished her grip on Hermione's hair and ran after her cronies, screaming 'FREAK!' over her shoulder.

The books fluttered gently back into Hermione's arms. She picked the last one out the puddle and was delighted to find it dry as ever.

Hermione's sense of wonder occupied her throughout the bus trip home. The incident at the bus stop had dredged up a series of similar events from the last few years: ripping her favourite skirt and finding it in one piece again the next day; being able to build improbably high sandcastles on a French holiday; making paper swans that came to life in the palm of her hand …

Hermione thanked the bus driver, disembarked and approached the Granger household: it was a tall building identical to those alongside it, with hanging baskets and sprawling ivy decorating the front door.

She could hear low voices emanating from the living room as she placed her books and bag on the hallway table and removed her shoes. Upon entering the living room, she found her parents in serious conversation with a strange woman. She was rather severe-looking, nothing like Mrs Honeysett, and she wore long emerald-green robes and square glasses; she was also holding a yellowish envelope.

'Ah, Miss Granger,' said the stranger, peering down at Hermione over her glasses. 'Pleased to meet you. My name is Professor McGonagall.'

'Oh – hello,' said Hermione timidly.

'I've just been having a discussion with your parents about you. Nothing to be worried about,' Professor McGonagall added, seeing the apprehension in Hermione's expression. 'But perhaps you should read this before I go any further.'

She handed Hermione the envelope. Hermione read her name and address in green ink and on the reverse was a purple seal. Curious, she withdrew the letter and read, her well-practised eyes flitting through the writing. Her parents moved over to read over her shoulder.

When she had finished, her heart felt twice as big in her chest. A witch! She could do magic! It made sense, she supposed, what with all those incidents she had recalled on the bus.

'That's wonderful!' she said delightedly. 'You're a witch too, Professor?'

'Indeed. And, should you and your parents oblige to accept your place at our school, I shall be one of your teachers. I understand if this is a bit of a shock for you,' McGonagall said, addressing Mr and Mrs Granger, who had barely spoken since McGonagall's bizarre appearance. 'It would mean making a lot of changes for your daughter. But she is special, and we would be delighted to take her in and hone her magical ability.'

'Oh, please, Mum, please, Dad.'

Mr and Mrs Granger looked at each other. Learning that witches and wizards existed was one thing. Learning that their own daughter possessed such powers was almost unbelievable. However, Hermione's beaming face was more than enough to convince them.

'Of course you can, dear.'

Hermione hugged both her parents, thanking them again and again, then re-read the letter. She was off to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and that sounded much better than some girls' grammar school.