the brightest witch of her age
dirgewithoutmusic
Summary:
When Hermione Jean Granger was one year old her parents died in a car crash. She knew all about it because she asked a lot of questions and her aunt and uncle believed in answering them.
Why is the sky blue, auntie? Why are b's and d's like in the mirror? Where do songs come from? Why did Jenny Hopkins call me a--?
Her father had accelerated into a green light, like you were supposed to. (By the time she was eight, Hermione had the driver's rulebook memorized). A truck driver, going the opposite way, hadn't stopped at a red.
Hermione had been strapped in a car seat in the back, her aunt and uncle told her. She hadn't been hurt at all except for the scar that stood out, jagged, on her forehead.
As Hermione grew up into a gangly, bushy-haired, buck-toothed wonder, she thought she could remember it-- a glaring green light, a rush of cold air.
Notes:
Translation into Português brasileiro available: a bruxa mais brilhante da sua idade by FallDownDead
sigma-castell asked:
hey i was just wondering, seeing as you've done a chosen one! ron fic and plenty of harry AUs, have you thought about doing a chosen one hermione?
Work Text:
When Hermione Jean Granger was one year old her parents died in a car crash. She knew all about it because she asked a lot of questions and her aunt and uncle believed in answering them.
Why is the sky blue, auntie? Why are b's and d's like in the mirror? Where do songs come from? Why did Jenny Hopkins call me a--?
Her father had accelerated into a green light, like you were supposed to. (By the time she was eight, Hermione had the driver's rulebook memorized). A truck driver, going the opposite way, hadn't stopped at a red.
Hermione had been strapped in a car seat in the back, her aunt and uncle told her. She hadn't been hurt at all except for the scar that stood out, jagged, on her forehead.
As Hermione grew up into a gangly, bushy-haired, buck-toothed wonder, she thought she could remember it-- a glaring green light, a rush of cold air.
Hermione's Aunt Meg worked in a hardware store and wrote poetry on her smoking breaks. Her Uncle Harold taught classical languages at a local university. When she was small, Hermione would sit with him at the kitchen table and solemnly scribble in crayon on his graded papers.
Aunt Meg took her to libraries and museums on the weekends, like they were county fairs or circuses, the same way she would have had her little sister and brother-in-law not died in a car accident and left Hermione on her doorstep (figuratively). In every life, Aunt Meg had bought Hermione her first book.
They had lived in a big city when they first got Hermione, but they had moved before her second birthday. Hermione grew up in a sleepy suburbs, a short bike from open fields. Aunt Meg showed her how to change the tires on her bright purple bicycle, and Uncle Harold bought her a little bell for the handle.
When her aunt and uncle fought, which they did-- about dishes, or what to do about That One Rude Neighbor, or the proper classification of Herodotus, or why they had moved out here (they both remembered a charismatic recruiter from Harold's university, but not much more than that)-- Hermione would pick up her latest book and wander over to Mrs. Figg's.
Mrs. Figg had three cats and gave Hermione candies she could never find in the store. "These ones are good for your teeth," Mrs. Figg promised, when Hermione asked, her small face wrinkled with concern.
"My parents were dentists," Hermione explained.
"Well," said Mrs. Figg. "I suppose someone has to be."
