Hermione on Holiday

Chapter 2 Hermione Humbled

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is sat in 1996; hence the talk about "new" Internet technology.)

"So how did the horse riding go today, Minnie?" asked Mum over dinner.

Hermione thought over what answer to give. She disliked lying to her parents, but over the years she had found it necessary to gloss over the dangers she encountered: nearly getting strangled by a plant as a first year, getting turned to stone as a second year, getting whomped by a willow as a third year… and those were only the major things. Her parents had been amazingly cool about letting her go to the magic school, but she didn't want to admit how dangerous it could get. And, today, she didn't want to mention nearly getting trampled by a horse because she had stupidly brought her wand with her. Fortunately Hermione thought fast. "It was cool."

"Meet any cute boys?" her mother asked with a wink.

"It was mostly girls there, but yes, there was one nice bloke. Named George Hanover. He said he was one of your patients."

"Don't remember him; he must have been a quiet boy," said Mum.

"I suppose it's hard to make conversation when you're mucking around with their teeth," said Hermione.

Her parents laughed. "Minnie, I'm glad your riding lessons worked out," said Dad, "but while we have time this summer, we have to do some serious planning. Do you plan to go to a "Muggle" University?"

"I don't know yet."

"They'll expect certain prior knowledge. Have you read chemistry?"

"Potions."

"Biology?"

"Herbology, and Hagrid teaches Care of Magical Creatures." Her parents had met Hagrid while shopping in Dialog Alley.

"Has he mentioned DNA and its role in hereditary characteristics?"

"Um, no."

"So – I hate to sound like I'm hectoring you – but you need to start preparing now. Plus there's the whole problem of proving your knowledge, since I doubt the colleges will recognize Hogwarts as a public school. IF you're going to University."

There were a lot of issues behind that question. Was Hermione planning to live in the Muggle World? Hogwarts was great at teaching magic, but its curriculum was based on the assumption that one was going to live in the Wizard World: Apparation, Floos, and Portkeys rather than motorcars and aeroplanes; magic charms rather than machines, quills rather than word-processing programs. Hermione thought she would choose the Wizard way of life over the Muggle way, but suppose that she didn't get a choice? If Voldemort became too powerful, Hermione would be persona non grata, a Mudblood. Living like a Muggle might be the only safe choice. A tiny part of her brain told her that the Muggle world could be dangerous as well, if Voldamort became too powerful, but she shoved that argument aside. Her parents were waiting for an answer and it was not the time to have discussions with herself.

"I'll think about it in the next few days." That wasn't a stalling manoeuvre; she really did intend to think over it.

"That will be good, Minnie."

"In the meantime," said her mother, "we have a more immediate decision. Mr. Dent has invited us to a dinner tomorrow; he wants to show off his new home computer. By the year 2000 nearly everybody will have one, he says. He's included you in the invitation, Minnie. Do you want to come?"

"What do they know about me?"

"We've given out that you've been attending a special advanced school in the States – and we've been deliberately vague about what subjects you're reading there. I don't think you'll be asked any awkward questions."

"OK, I'll go." It wasn't as if she had much social life of her own here.

"Good, I'll RSVP the invitation."

The next evening Hermione put on a dress – she wasn't sure just when jeans were acceptable at dinners nowadays. She was also careful to leave her wand at home this time. But she forgot that her charm bracelet was really charmed.

Fortunately she was largely ignored, at least at the start of the dinner. She might be sixteen, but to the Dents she was still "the Grangers' little girl Minnie". Mr. Dent was focussed on his new toy.

"It's really a revolution in information," said Mr. Dent as dinner approached its end. "No more shelling out hundreds of pounds for Encyclopaedia Britannica. Just browse for the information you want, and if it's on the Internet, anywhere in the world, you can find it."

"But you have to know how to ask," pointed out Mum.

"Of course, but learning how to use it is simple – they're teaching it to children in schools now. Isn't that right, Minnie?"

"Oh – yes," said Hermione, caught off guard.

"Let me demonstrate. Suppose we want to look up information on that new fantasy book, NORTHERN LIGHTS." He sat at his computer.

"NORTHERN LIGHTS? I haven't heard of that," said Dad.

"It's about a girl living at a school in a medieval-type world," said another guest, a Mrs. Fengue. "My daughter loves it. Of course it's quite unreal. Half-human animals, weird technology, even some witchcraft. And we're supposed to believe a single teenager can thwart a vast conspiracy of grownups. You don't know any teenagers that brilliant, do you, Minnie?"

"No, I don't," lied Hermione, fidgeting slightly.

"I've got it," announced Mr. Dent. "Not only information about the book, but an article on its author, Philip Pullman, including his feud with C.S. Lewis. Now if I want to jump to Lewis – oh, bloody hell! Pardon me, Minnie."

"It's OK. My friends say that all the time," said Hermione.

"What happened?" asked Dad.

"Lost my internet connection. I may have to reboot—"

"Maybe Minnie can fix it," Mrs Fengue volunteered. "I hear you're very clever, Minnie."

Hermione tried to suppress a feeling of panic. She knew nothing about computers, but how could she explain that, when she was supposed to be a clever girl getting advanced schooling? She sat in the chair that Mr. Dent had vacated. Maybe if she went through a few motions, then said the problem couldn't be fixed easily--- She picked up the little box with the wire attached.

Her mother, standing right behind her, whispered: "I think that's called a mouse. You're supposed to roll it on the desk."

Hermione put it back on the desk, and started tapping a few keys. Her charm bracelet came into contact with some keys. Suddenly the screen filled with static and finally went blank altogether. Hermione belatedly realized that the magic charge in her bracelet had mucked up the computer.

"Oh my God – I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she said, jumping up from the chair and feeling herself turn red. The panic grew in her chest and she could almost image the questions that were going to be asked.

"It's all right," said Mr. Dent. "I'll just reboot it."

"Modern technology is bound to be temperamental," said Mrs. Fengue. "I'm sorry I put you on the spot, Minnie."

But Hermione wasn't comforted. She was humiliated. Hermione Granger, the go-to girl for any problem with magic, had made a fool of herself trying to feign knowledge that she didn't have. And though the grownups weren't blaming her, they were figuratively giving the little girl a pat on the head.

Her parents tried to cheer her up afterward, on the way home. "It's really our fault, Minnie. When we talked about your 'advanced education in the States', everybody assumed we were talking about computer wizardry. We need to refine our story a bit."

"No, that's not the big problem. The big problem was that I was stupid," moaned Hermione, putting her head in her hands.

The fundamental problem was wanting to look like an expert when she wasn't, but Hermione didn't want to dwell on that. Instead, she tried to think about how she could become an expert.

The next day, having looked up a certain boy's phone number in her parents' old dentistry records, she punched it into her phone. "Hullo, George? This is Hermione. There's a favour I'd like to ask. Do you tutor girls---?"

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: NORTHERN LIGHTS is the British fantasy novel better known in the US as THE GOLDEN COMPASS. It was written in 1995, at a time when hardly anybody had heard of J.K. Rowling)