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Disclaimer: Please note that I am not claiming any of the characters, plots, or ideas as my own. They are the property of J.K. Rowling and I am only borrowing them as a way to understand her stories from a different perspective.



Mr and Mrs Granger, of number thirty-six, Whippingham Road, were proud to say that their daughter was not normal, in fact she was very extraordinary. They were the last people you might expect to have a particularly spectacular child, however, being a pair of dentists.

Mr Granger was part owner of an oral care office called Brighton White, which cleaned teeth and fitted braces. He was not a particularly handsome man and considered himself rather plain. Mrs Granger was petite and brunette, but had a rather hard time taming her curly hair. Mr Granger had met Mrs Granger while they were at university studying teeth together – a strange thing how creating a perfect smile can bring two people together.

Mrs Granger enjoyed telling the story of how she met her husband, sitting in the library pouring over a book of incisors, canines, and molars. She regularly remarked on how straight his teeth were for a bloke from Kent, then they would both laugh as if it was the funniest joke either of them had ever heard. Despite being two dentists, a profession that seems boring or awkward at the best of times, Mr and Mrs Granger were perfect for each other.

The Grangers would be the first to say that they had everything they wanted: a perfect white house, a happy little baby girl, and a line of patients out the door waiting for a teeth cleaning. There was little for them to complain about on their quiet Brighton street. The first time they became aware that life was not quite so ordinary was when the spoons started disappearing.

Mrs Granger was in the kitchen one bright and sunny morning making oatmeal. A medium sized saucepan was sitting on the stove and her baby girl was on the floor banging away on a bowl with a plastic spoon.  Mrs Granger smiled at her baby and marveled at how she was growing – each day she seemed to be completely changed. Turning back to the stove, Mrs Granger reached for a wooden spoon to stir the oatmeal. The spoon, however, was not where she had left it beside the stove. She bent low to the floor to check if it had fallen, perhaps. It was not on the floor. Checking behind the can of oats, under the morning’s mail, and in the sink yield similar results. Hands on her hips in pure bewilderment, Mrs Granger turned to look at her daughter and asked off hand if she might know where to find that the wooden spoon from the oatmeal pot. To her astonishment, the little baby was now holding two spoons (one plastic the other wood and covered in oatmeal) and banging on the bowl quite rhythmically.

“Hermione Jean Granger,” Mrs Granger exclaimed as a hand jumped to cover her mouth. The baby simply giggled in reply and continued to make her childish music. It was from that morning that Mrs Granger was sure behind the toothy grin her daughter was an amazing little girl.





F/N: So what do you think? I’m trying to make it match up to the original without sticking Hermione’s name in place of Harry’s. It will definitely improve as the chapters get going but I wanted to do this intro chapter to see how it would be received.



 

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