A/N: Written for the Ollivander's Challenge on simplypotterheads dot tumblr dot com (prompt: Hermione's life before Hogwarts). English isn't my mother tongue and I haven't found a beta-reader. I appologize for the mistakes you're going to find here.

A last kiss on her forehead and Hermione is alone, alone with her anxiety and the burning sensation somewhere between her heart and her stomach. Silently, she watches Mum and Dad walking away hand in hand, and she doesn't blink, not until they reach the corner and they're gone.

"We'll see you tonight," they said, but it doesn't make her feel better. She's used to not seeing her parents all the time, of course – they're very busy, and more often than not, it's Grandma who takes care of her during the day – but today is different, because Hermione is three years old and it's her first day of school.

But she's nothing if not a very brave little girl – that's what Dad said, when she had to get a vaccine last month – and Hermione is determined to make this experience a nice one. Nervously, she wipes her damp hands on the front of her green dress, and she resolutely walks towards a little boy with brown hair and scared, blue eyes, not far from here.

"Hello," she says, her elocution clear and precise, just like Mum taught her. "My name is Hermione."

The little boy looks at her for a few seconds, completely silent, and Hermione's belly feels tighter and tighter, as if someone was actually twisting knots in here, and she kind of wants to cry, just a little. Then, without a word, he quickly walks away, hiding behind a chair, and Hermione feels like her heart is dropping low, low, low into her stomach.

"Make friends," Mum said before kissing her forehead, but Hermione is a single child, and her cousins live too far away, and she doesn't take her piano lessons with other children, and she simply has no idea how people make friends.

ooo

She's four and a half when she completely masters reading. She's not due to learn it before another year and a half, but if Hermione is one thing, stupid isn't it. She actually pays attention when her teacher reads them story, and she's understood quickly that different sets of letters signify different sounds. After that, it was just a question of remembering the pairs, and Hermione's always had a good memory.

One night, her parents come home from work to find her sitting on the couch, right next to Grandma who's fallen asleep about an hour earlier. A huge book is open on her lap, and Hermione is deciphering the words, the sounds slowly forming on her small mouth. She's so taken in the sentences dancing across the page that she doesn't even realize her parents are here, not until Mum clears her throat.

Hermione looks up from the book, and she feels like she's going to get into trouble for touching one of Dad and Mum's things, but when Dad speaks, his voice his soft and reassuring.

"Are you reading, Hermione?" he asks, and Hermione hesitates, not knowing whether or not she should tell the truth. But in the end, she remembers that being honest is important – that's what Grandma always says anyway – and Hermione simply nods.

Next thing she knows, Mum pulls her into a hug and Dad is laughing, rubbing her hair and saying "My daughter is a genius."

The noise wakes Grandma up, and when she's told what happened, she says celebratory muffins are in order.

Hermione hadn't smiled as much as she does that night for a while, and when she's tucked into bed a couple of hours later, she realizes that it's because she's actually proud of herself.

ooo

Hermione has known for a while that she's not really a people person. She never really had any friends at school, the humiliating memory of the brown-eyed boy who ran away from her still burning in her mind and preventing her from going towards other children, and when she goes on holiday in the South of France with Mum and Dad, the summer before her eighth birthday, she puts more books than toys or clothes in her little suitcase. She knows that Mum and Dad want her to make friends in the hotel where they're staying, but Hermione doesn't think she can get better friends than her books.

Her favourite is a novel Grandma bought her for Christmas. Hermione usually likes essays better, for they teach her things she's sure will come in handy at some point, but something about this one book touched her on an intimate level, and even though she knows magic isn't real, she can't help dreaming and hoping that one day, she'll too be rescued from an evil dragon by a beautiful prince and his wizard friend.

ooo

The first time Hermione realizes she actually would like having friends, it's in a bout of selfishness. For all she tries to convince herself otherwise, Hermione isn't perfect. She's known it for quite some time, now, and even if she'd like to believe Grandma when she tells her that yes, she is perfect, she also knows better than lying to herself.

A couple of weeks after their holiday in France, Hermione, Mum and Dad are invited over to Cousin Edmund's house in Leeds. It's his eleventh birthday, and Aunt Lara thought it'd be a nice occasion to catch up with her sister. They drive for about four hours to get there, and when Hermione knocks on the entrance door, she is welcomed by a blond girl she's never seen in her life.

"I'm Maggie," she says. "Edmund's friend. You must be his cousin."

And just like that, she runs away from the door, back into the living room full of children Hermione doesn't know. They're all Edmund's friends, all twelve of them, and Hermione feels uncomfortable, being with all those people she doesn't know, and she thinks she might actually start suffocating or even faint. She sits in a corner, careful not to look at anyone, nor to be noticed, but as the afternoon winds down, she finds herself glancing more and more at all these children. They all seem to have a lot of fun, and they seem genuinely happy, and by the time Edmund opens his presents, Hermione is already mentally planning her own birthday party.

She can already picture it: red and gold balloons all around the dining room, a huge chocolate cake with eight pink candles, candies in big bowls on the table, and sparkling water in everyone's plastic glass. She can see them, her friends, all around her, celebrating Hermione on her own special day, and she likes it. She likes the presents they're offering her, she likes the music they choose for her, she likes the smiles on their faces when they see how happy she is. She pictures everything for her perfect birthday, but she then realizes that she doesn't actually have any friend.

When they go back home, the day after Edmund's birthday – Aunt Lara insisted that they spend the night in her house – Hermione asks Mum how do people make friends, and she's offered some advice.

"Be nice to them. Help them when they need it, and they'll be grateful and bond with you. Be honest too, no one likes a liar."

So when she's back at school in September, Hermione does just that. But her birthday is on the 19th and she knows she doesn't have much time to make friends and invite them to her party. So she helps them even when they don't need it, telling everyone the answers to questions their teacher is asking and correcting their mistakes as she sees them. She thinks she's doing pretty well, until she overhears Holly Mason and Bianca Newman talk about her.

"That Granger girl," one of them says. "Who does she think she is?"

"She's so annoying," the other one answers. "I liked it better when she thought she was too good for us; at least she was leaving us alone."

They then walk away, the wind carrying their words someplace else, but evil has been done, and Hermione is left heartbroken, hiding in the girl's bathroom to dry tears she never even suspected she had.

ooo

Hermione and Grandma are baking muffins when the front door opens and then closes. Glancing at the clock, she notices it's only 3 in the afternoon. Whether it is Mum or Dad who just came back, they're way too early, and Hermione can't help but feeling a bit worried, so she rushes out of the kitchen.

But as it turns out, there is nothing to be worried about. Mum and Dad are both here, and they smile when they say "We thought we'd come home earlier for your birthday, Pumpkin."

Hermione's smile is bright and wide and she opens all of her presents with avidity. All of them are books, of course, but Hermione doesn't mind. She loves books more than she loves most people, after all, and she never will have enough of them.

Grandma then gets something from her purse, and she gives it to Hermione. It's a circular object wrapped in shiny paper, and Hermione wonders what book can be shaped like this before she realizes Grandma got her a yo-yo. It looks old, its blue colours looking washed off, its wood feeling kind of rough beneath her hand.

"My Daddy made it for me when I was your age," Grandma says, and Hermione feels like crying, just a little. But then the oven beeps, and it's time to get the muffins out.

And when she finds herself sitting on Dad's lap, himself sitting on the couch between Mum and Grandma, a half-eaten muffin in one hand and her yo-yo in the other, Hermione feels like the happiest person in the world. She's playing with her yo-yo, throwing it into the air a little higher each time, the white string around her finger, wishing this moment to never end, when something weird happens.

And right when she wishes this, something really, really weird happens. She doesn't know how, but somehow, the yo-yo starts glowing, and it suddenly freezes mid-air. It stays like that for about ten seconds, and Hermione knows everyone is staring at it, afraid or amazed, and when finally it drops from the air, she can feel everyone looking at her.

ooo

Grandma dies on a cold, snowy January day, a few months after Hermione's tenth birthday, leaving her heartbroken. In the past few years, weird, inexplicable things have happened a lot around Hermione, and somehow, she feels like it's her fault that Grandma's dead.

ooo

The day Hermione turns eleven, there is a knock on the door. Hermione doesn't look up when Mum answers, not until she hears her name. Curious, she looks up from the book she's reading, and can see from the couch that Mum is talking to a tall, old women, wearing a large robe and a tartan, pointy hat. She kind of looks like a witch from fairy tales, and she's saying that she has big news about Hermione.

A few minutes later, Mum, Dad, Hermione and the woman – Professor Minerva McGonagall, she says – are sitting around the coffee table, cups of tea in hands.

"You may have noticed," Professor McGonagall says, "that strange, inexplicable events will often happen around Hermione."

The rest of the conversation is a blur. Hermione hears the words "witch", "powers", "school", "Hogwarts" and "Dumbledore", but she doesn't understand what they mean. It's only when Dad says "But… wizards don't exist" and Professor McGonagall turns his cup of tea into a cat that she finally understands what is happening.

And she doesn't like it.

She's in her room faster than anyone can say "Hermione", crying on her bed, because she's a freak. She's a freak and it's probably her fault that Grandma died.

ooo

Professor McGonagall comes back a few days later. Hermione calmed down, a bit, and she goes straight to the old lady.

"Can you bring Grandma back with magic?"

Professor McGonagall looks sorry and Hermione knows the answer before she evens says it.

"I'm afraid no magic can give you your Grandma back," she says, and they stay silent for a while, simply sipping on their tea.

That's just before the storm, though, as Professor McGonagall has a lot to explain to Hermione. By the end of their conversation, it's well past six in the evening but Hermione understands things better. She's scared, no doubt about it, but she's also very excited, realizing that her life is going to change forever. But it's okay. Hermione is nothing if not a brave girl.

Just before she leaves, Professor McGonagall turns to Hermione. "I can see you like reading."

Hermione nods, and Professor McGonagall smiles, and she reaches into a bag Hermione didn't realize she was carrying. She retrieves a book, and still smiling, she gives it to Hermione.

"There," she says. And with that, she's gone, disappearing into thin air. Glancing down on the book in her hands, Hermione feels herself smile. She really does like books. Hogwarts: A History, this one says.

A/N: Thanks for reading: ;)