The Magical Twenty-Six

"Congratulations, Mrs. Granger, it's a...." The doctor stopped talking.

"A what!? TELL ME!" screamed Mrs. Granger, for she could get quite emotional in times of stress.

The doctor examined the baby he was holding. After pondering for a bit, his cheesy smile returned to his face. "It's an 'it'!" he said gleefully. He turned the baby over a few times. "I think this is the top." He handed Mrs. Granger a thing that looked as if it were just a ball of hair.

The nurse came in and cut some of the excess mountain of hair away. Mrs. Granger looked into the brown eyes of her darling, precious, afro-donned, little girl's face. She knew her baby would go far.

"What shall we name our adorable baby girl?" asked Mrs. Granger, a huge smile on her face.

"She certainly does have a lot of hair," said Mr. Granger. He thought for a moment. "I've got it! Let's name her Harriet!"

"What?"

"Harriet! Get it 'hair'!?" he chortled.

"Mr. Granger, I will not have our child named like that. Let's name her Hermione."

"Hermione Granger?"

"Yes."

Mr. Granger sighed. "I liked Harriet better," he muttered.

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When Hermione was three she was taken from her parents during an outing to the zoo. This was because PETA thought Mr. and Mrs. Granger had stolen an animal and forced it to sit in a stroller.

"She just has a lot of hair, is all," explained Mrs. Granger.

That night, they shaved off all of Hermione's hair.

The next morning, it had all grown back.

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When Hermione was five, she suffered a concussion because her hair had gotten tangled in the spokes of her tricycle.

This accident transformed Hermione Granger into a baby genius.

In two days, she had memorized all of the encyclopedias.

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On the train to Hogwarts, a girl mistook Hermione for Sasquatch.

"I beg your pardon!" snapped Hermione hotly. "I have bathed today. I will not be mistaken for some unhygienic woodland creature!"

"My bad," said the girl.

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By her sixth year, Hermione's hair was still a mess.

That last statement was an understatement.

"I can't find my book," Hermione said, rustling through some papers. She swiveled around quickly. A large novel catapulted out of the bushy mass of hair on Hermione's head. The novel then hit Ron in the face, killing him on contact.

"Oh! There it is! Thanks, Ron!" She went to read by the fire.

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Harry Potter couldn't find his glasses. He stumbled about blindly, feeling for them. (Not entirely) By accident, Harry's hands found Hermione's boobs. "You're getting warmer," she giggled coyly. Harry's hands found their way to Hermione's hair. He pulled out a gurgling, purple baby squid.

"SHAKISHA!" Draco screamed, he snatched the squid and ran off.

"Here they are!" shouted Harry.

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Oliver Wood couldn't find his broomstick.

He found it in the broom shed.

Haha, you thought I was going to say that he found his broom in Hermione's hair.

Well, the broom shed was in Hermione's hair.

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Ron Weasley couldn't find his life.

So, he kept on being dead.

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Fred and George run a joke shop in Hermione's hair.

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Hermione Granger gets frequent headaches. Doctors and baffled. No one has a cure.

It's very tragic.