September 2, 1991
I’ve spent the last year dreaming of what Hogwarts would be like. Ever since Professor McGonagall visited our house and told my parents that I was a witch, I’ve felt as if my life was truly about to begin. Primary school was never much fun, not with Bella and Chrissy there. They thought I was weird for spending so much time with my nose in a book. Is it weird? I’ve found solace in the pages of daring adventures in far-off lands that whisk me away from the boring streets of Crawley. I don’t think it’s weird to study my textbooks either, I only want to prove myself. I thought being smart would make my peers like me. I thought being a perfect student would make my teachers approve of me. I thought being utterly normal would make my parents ignore all the unexplainable events that happen around me.
They never did.
And now I’m here, in a school of magic, where there’s a whole house dedicated to those who value knowledge. I thought Gryffindor might allow me more friends than Ravenclaw, though. I thought there would surely be people who accept me for who I am here. I thought everything would be all right.
I was wrong.
—Hermione J. Granger