disclaimer: as I am not jk Rowling I do not own harry potter or the charaters.
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All the books and knowledge i had tried to gather would have never prepared me for this day, the day I would be sorted, and my life would change forever.
My name is hermione granger and as of my eleventh birthday I discovered that I am a witch. Now I know what you are thinking: an old lady with a wart on her nose and a poison apple, or women with fake faces that turn kids into mice or lock them in paintings.
Thankfully that's not the case since I happen to like my face. Looking back to that fateful day when professor Mcgonagall appeared appeared upon the stoop and handed me my hogwarts letter things started to make sense.
The unexplainable circumstances of things floating or glass breaking when I was upset was apparently accidental magic. Finally knowing that there were others like me made the years of teasing and having no friends worth it. It was not my fault that my hair had a mind of its own, that my front teeth were a little large, or that I enjoyed the company of books after all knowledge is power is it not?
The one thing I could not explain was the look in my parents eyes that seemed almost vacant of any sort of affection towards me. Looking back I would have wished to be able to distinguish the emotions that raged behind their eyes but sadly I was too caught up in the feeling of elation.