She read the letter a thousand times but she couldn't believe it. Even after Professor Trivia Hectamere visited and told her she's a witch.
Her parents didn't believer either, at first. Her dad thought that it was just a prank and threw the letter out into the bin. But the owl came again, tapping their window glass with its beak, a similar envelope clutched tight. After a few incidents like this, her father decided to write back to this Hogwarts, a self proclaimed school of witchcraft and wizardry. He wrote:
This is not funny business. Please stop this or we'll have to take this to the police.
He gave it to the next owl that brought the envelope again. The next day, Hermione answered the door to a woman, about her mom's age. She wore simple black robes and a shawl. She had this look Hermione didn't like. It was like she was smiling with her mouth, pitying her with her voice and trying to kill her with her stare at the same time. She hated it and so she refused to look at her for longer than three seconds, after which she'd look at her feet.
She talked to her parents and her, telling that magic do exist. She started giving them a lecture about how magic always existed in the world and people in the past saw it for the power it was. Her father looked straight at her and asked, 'Well, you said that children with magic show signs. We didn't see any. Why?'
Professor Hectamere's expression changed to something like Here we go again, and said, 'She always showed them. You were blind enough not to observe closely,' her voice mocking her father.
She saw her dad's expression harden and he was about to say something when she spoke again. 'Fine, Mr Granger. Now, I will prove to you, two things: Magic exists and your daughter can wield it.'
Saying that, she looked at Hermione, her expression she didn't understand. One moment she was sitting at her mother's side and the next, she was standing in the middle of the soft woolen carpet. How? It was so disorienting that she fell down, trying to regain her bearings. She saw her parents' face: shocked.
'Please, I won't harm her,' she said as her dad tried to come to help her. He sat again, and Hermione saw that he only sat on the edge, ready to run to her if something goes wrong. Professor Hectamere came to her side and gave her a hand but Hermione didn't take it. She stood by herself and walked towards her parents. She was exactly at the carpet's edge when It caught fire.
'HERMIONE!' her parents screamed, shell shocked. But to her own disbelief, she felt only slight warmth.
I . . . I should have been burning . . .
She turned around to see Professor Hectamere standing right at the heart of the flames, a smug smile on her face. Her clothes weren't burning either. And she was surrounded by golden light. In those black robes and the golden halo, she looks . . . ancient . . . and powerful. But her expression was, Look, what I meant? Or so, Hermione thought.
Slowly, the halo, the fire, everything disappeared, leaving the carpet unsinged. It even felt newer to Hermione. 'Go calm your parents, my dear,' she said.
Hermione went back, sitting in between her mom and dad, still feeling the warmth of the fire that disappeared already. Calming mom and dad? She herself needed calming.
But the Professor didn't seem to care. She opened the door and stepped out, saying, 'Tomorrow at 11 A.M sharp, my dear. I want you to be ready. We'll be shopping for your First Year at Hogwarts,' and added, 'Oh, and you both too,' waving at her parents. Hermione thought she just added it as an afterthought. 'Goodnight, everyone! And be extra careful dear. Dreams can be dangerous.'
Saying that, she closed the door. She didn't know why, but she immediately ran to the door and opened it. She disappeared! One part of her mind thought awed, while the other part thought, She's a witch. Of course she could vanish.
She clutched to the envelope with the big wax H seal as she fell asleep and slipped into dreams. How can dreams be dangerous? was her last thought and it turned out, the Professor was right. She had a nightmare and woke up in cold sweat.