- Rating:
- G
- House:
- The Dark Arts
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Spoilers:
- Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban
- Stats:
-
Published: 12/31/2001Updated: 02/04/2002Words: 3,419Chapters: 3Hits: 3,935
Chapter 01
- Posted:
- 12/31/2001
- Hits:
- 2,184
Notes - I've always wondered about dear Hermione-how she got where she is, her life before Hogwarts. Her motivations. How she feels. That sort of thing. This is an attempt to explain some of these, and I hope you enjoy reading it.
---*---
He that loves a book will never want a faithful friend, a wholesome counselor, a cheerful companion, an effectual comforter. By study, by reading, by thinking, one may innocently divert and pleasantly entertain himself, as in all weathers, as in all fortunes.
-Barrow
---*---
It was September 19, 1980. Hermione was born, and she was placed into the hands of her parents. Her parents loved her and protected her and did everything right and Hermione knew she loved them too because really, what kind of person didn't love their parents? How silly. Silly.
She felt sorry for people who didn't have parents to love and be loved by. Like Harry. Harry has no parents. Hermione often wonders how he survived without them - she can't imagine the first eleven years of her life without Mr. and Mrs. Granger, parents that gave her just everything ever.
Ever since she could understand the words Hermione's parents read to her. Simple things at first, fun books that would make her giggle and smile, then books that made her think, like Narnia. Hermione loved the Narnia books. Things were very simple and this-and-that and good and evil very simple and my, Lucy was a bit irresponsible, wasn't she? She was surprised others didn't notice. Hermione often felt she noticed things others didn't.
When Hermione grew a bit older she started reading books for herself, too. She was a bit flustered when people said that reading was an escape. She didn't read to escape, she read just to read. How very silly - an escape! She liked to read plenty of the time and if she sometimes read silly, trashy fantasy novels when she knew her parents' business wasn't going well, if she sometimes buried her face in mysteries when girls at school teased her and hurt her, well, maybe it was just because she wanted to read.
But even when she read to herself she insisted Daddy read to her. Daddy had a strong voice and it lulled her to sleep at night no matter what had happened that day.
Hermione felt that she would maybe want Daddy to read to her forever, or at least until she went to college.
-----
When Hermione first started school she was a bit nervous. Mummy combed her hair down and set it in short braids, and she bought her a backpack and set her off to school with a little paper bag lunch.
Hermione stood out in front of the school for a long time and she didn't talk to anybody. Then the bell rang, and she jumped and looked around wildly but Mummy wasn't there. But someone took her to her class, and there she was.
Hermione was a bit bored at school, a little maybe, because she already knew the alphabet, already knew her counting. But it made her feel special, a little smarter maybe, because she already knew more than the other children. Some of other children maybe didn't like her because she knew more than them, but it didn't matter. She did know more than them. That was what mattered.
Sometimes Hermione wonders if she might've been a very different girl if Daddy hadn't taught her the alphabet before she started school.
Hermione had a few friends in school, people she would talk to, say 'hi' to, play with at break. She sat with them at lunch, and they all talked a little but really they just ate. Mostly all of them wanted to be sitting with other people, but those other people didn't really want to sit with them and oh well, this table was good enough, they supposed. Hermione probably would have liked to sit with all the girls, but she didn't think they'd want her there.
Hermione read during lunch.
-----
It was a hot sticky day when Hermione's letter from Hogwarts came in the mail. She remembered what she was wearing - a lime green tank top and white shorts. It was a new outfit she had gotton for school.
Her parents didn't really understand, but they saw the extra letter that was there - addressed to 'muggles'. It told them where to shop and things like that. It was all very confusing to Hermione, but so very exciting, and she made her parents go out right away and buy her school supplies. She bought books too, wonderful books, books that would help her understand, that would banish the confusion.
She read the course books over and over, barely able to believe any of it. She waved her wand at things, and she tried spells - oh, did she try spells. It was a sorry day indeed when her parents discovered just how her normally disorderly room had stayed so neat the month before she left for Hogwarts.
Hogwarts . . . even now the name sounds odd, foreign, like something out of a children's book. But she's gotton used to it, she's adapted, just like she always has. Adapted so well that now it feels that the muggle world is the strange, foreign thing. Home is still home, though, and she's thankful for that.
Perhaps Hermione spent a bit more time than was strictly neccessary studying all her new school books, but goodness, she was just so excited. It was a whole new world, new and fascinating and exotic. She learned everything she could about it, eagerly lapped up every bit of information, desperate to know everything she could. She had never been unprepared for anything at muggle school, and she didn't plan to start being so at magic school.
If she knew as much as all the other wizards, they would like her and accept her. If she knew everything possible there was no way they could shun her and dislike her. In her mind she crafted a spacious, stunningly beautiful old building that was called Hogwarts and she went there and everyone liked her and respected her knowledge. She was the top student and everyone wanted to know her, wanted to be like her, and they whispered when she walked by. 'Look at her!' they whispered. 'That's Hermione Granger. She comes from a muggle family, but you wouldn't know to look at her, would you? Seems like she's been raised around magic. She really fits in.'
Hogwarts, she knew, would be nothing like muggle school.
-----
Finally, after a month of waiting and preparation, came the day Hermione was going to leave for magic school. Hermione checked over all her things three times to make sure she had everything, and they left.
It was lucky she had studied so hard, because otherwise getting to Platform 9 3/4 might have been a problem. But not now. Mum kissed her goodbye, Dad kissed her too - they wished her well, they loved her, send them letters. Hermione nodded and smiled. Of course she would. Then she turned to the wall between Platforms 9 and 10, and ran through it, and she was gone.
At least to her parents.
-----
---*---
He that loves a book will never want a faithful friend, a wholesome counselor, a cheerful companion, an effectual comforter. By study, by reading, by thinking, one may innocently divert and pleasantly entertain himself, as in all weathers, as in all fortunes.
-Barrow
---*---
It was September 19, 1980. Hermione was born, and she was placed into the hands of her parents. Her parents loved her and protected her and did everything right and Hermione knew she loved them too because really, what kind of person didn't love their parents? How silly. Silly.
She felt sorry for people who didn't have parents to love and be loved by. Like Harry. Harry has no parents. Hermione often wonders how he survived without them - she can't imagine the first eleven years of her life without Mr. and Mrs. Granger, parents that gave her just everything ever.
Ever since she could understand the words Hermione's parents read to her. Simple things at first, fun books that would make her giggle and smile, then books that made her think, like Narnia. Hermione loved the Narnia books. Things were very simple and this-and-that and good and evil very simple and my, Lucy was a bit irresponsible, wasn't she? She was surprised others didn't notice. Hermione often felt she noticed things others didn't.
When Hermione grew a bit older she started reading books for herself, too. She was a bit flustered when people said that reading was an escape. She didn't read to escape, she read just to read. How very silly - an escape! She liked to read plenty of the time and if she sometimes read silly, trashy fantasy novels when she knew her parents' business wasn't going well, if she sometimes buried her face in mysteries when girls at school teased her and hurt her, well, maybe it was just because she wanted to read.
But even when she read to herself she insisted Daddy read to her. Daddy had a strong voice and it lulled her to sleep at night no matter what had happened that day.
Hermione felt that she would maybe want Daddy to read to her forever, or at least until she went to college.
-----
When Hermione first started school she was a bit nervous. Mummy combed her hair down and set it in short braids, and she bought her a backpack and set her off to school with a little paper bag lunch.
Hermione stood out in front of the school for a long time and she didn't talk to anybody. Then the bell rang, and she jumped and looked around wildly but Mummy wasn't there. But someone took her to her class, and there she was.
Hermione was a bit bored at school, a little maybe, because she already knew the alphabet, already knew her counting. But it made her feel special, a little smarter maybe, because she already knew more than the other children. Some of other children maybe didn't like her because she knew more than them, but it didn't matter. She did know more than them. That was what mattered.
Sometimes Hermione wonders if she might've been a very different girl if Daddy hadn't taught her the alphabet before she started school.
Hermione had a few friends in school, people she would talk to, say 'hi' to, play with at break. She sat with them at lunch, and they all talked a little but really they just ate. Mostly all of them wanted to be sitting with other people, but those other people didn't really want to sit with them and oh well, this table was good enough, they supposed. Hermione probably would have liked to sit with all the girls, but she didn't think they'd want her there.
Hermione read during lunch.
-----
It was a hot sticky day when Hermione's letter from Hogwarts came in the mail. She remembered what she was wearing - a lime green tank top and white shorts. It was a new outfit she had gotton for school.
Her parents didn't really understand, but they saw the extra letter that was there - addressed to 'muggles'. It told them where to shop and things like that. It was all very confusing to Hermione, but so very exciting, and she made her parents go out right away and buy her school supplies. She bought books too, wonderful books, books that would help her understand, that would banish the confusion.
She read the course books over and over, barely able to believe any of it. She waved her wand at things, and she tried spells - oh, did she try spells. It was a sorry day indeed when her parents discovered just how her normally disorderly room had stayed so neat the month before she left for Hogwarts.
Hogwarts . . . even now the name sounds odd, foreign, like something out of a children's book. But she's gotton used to it, she's adapted, just like she always has. Adapted so well that now it feels that the muggle world is the strange, foreign thing. Home is still home, though, and she's thankful for that.
Perhaps Hermione spent a bit more time than was strictly neccessary studying all her new school books, but goodness, she was just so excited. It was a whole new world, new and fascinating and exotic. She learned everything she could about it, eagerly lapped up every bit of information, desperate to know everything she could. She had never been unprepared for anything at muggle school, and she didn't plan to start being so at magic school.
If she knew as much as all the other wizards, they would like her and accept her. If she knew everything possible there was no way they could shun her and dislike her. In her mind she crafted a spacious, stunningly beautiful old building that was called Hogwarts and she went there and everyone liked her and respected her knowledge. She was the top student and everyone wanted to know her, wanted to be like her, and they whispered when she walked by. 'Look at her!' they whispered. 'That's Hermione Granger. She comes from a muggle family, but you wouldn't know to look at her, would you? Seems like she's been raised around magic. She really fits in.'
Hogwarts, she knew, would be nothing like muggle school.
-----
Finally, after a month of waiting and preparation, came the day Hermione was going to leave for magic school. Hermione checked over all her things three times to make sure she had everything, and they left.
It was lucky she had studied so hard, because otherwise getting to Platform 9 3/4 might have been a problem. But not now. Mum kissed her goodbye, Dad kissed her too - they wished her well, they loved her, send them letters. Hermione nodded and smiled. Of course she would. Then she turned to the wall between Platforms 9 and 10, and ran through it, and she was gone.
At least to her parents.
-----