Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it belongs to the goddess, JKR. The title belongs to David Bowie (yes, it is a song…interesting one too)

Letter to Hermione

Hermione Granger sat in her bedroom, reading a book. It was summer vacation and, while all the other children played in the sunshine, she was reading a book. The early morning sun filtered through her window and she didn't even look up as a shadow quickly zipped by. It was such an interesting chapter and such a peaceful time of the day.

But, not for long…

"Hermione!"

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin at the frantic tone in her mother's voice.

"Hermione Granger! Come down here this instant!"

Wondering what on earth could have put her mother in such a state, Hermione practically flew down the stairs, sliding down the banisters and landing in the hallway on the main level. She ran into the kitchen where she was greeted by a very strange sight.

Her mother was wrestling with a very large eagle owl…in the middle of the kitchen…with feathers flying into the oatmeal that was supposed to be their breakfast.

"Get…this…damnable beast…out…of my…kitchen!" Her mother screamed as she tried to get a firm grip on the struggling bird.

Hermione moved to help her mother when she noticed something rather odd.

"Mother…it's got something tied to its leg," she commented, a perplexed expression on her face.  Yes, this was quite odd.

Her mother glared at her as the bird's wings flapped in her face.  "I wish it had both legs tied…and…both wings…as well!" She exclaimed breathlessly over the protesting hoots of the still-wiggling bird.

It was time for action so Hermione scooted forward and managed to grab a hold of the bird and deftly untie the large envelope fastened to its leg.

"I wonder if the SPCA knows about this," Hermione muttered, completely ignoring the pantomime behind her. The owl had escaped from her mother's clutches and was now hooting loudly as it circled the kitchen, flapping its wings indignantly.

"Where the hell is your father's fishing net?" her mother started, searching the fridge in confusion. "I knew today was going to be a terrible day. It was right there in my horoscope…"

Hermione looked over the envelope curiously. It was addressed to her…in lovely silver ink.  Well beyond odd.  One did not expect parcels to be delivered by homing owls.

"Did your horoscope say you were going to be attacked by a psychotic owl?" Hermione smirked as she turned the envelope over and noticed a great "H" in red sealing wax.  Her brow furled as she wondered what this was all about.

"Don't be daft, Hermione! My horoscope read that I was going to receive a strange visitor…" her mother tried, unsuccessfully to shoo the owl into the pantry but it would have none of that.

"Good morning dear…I was just looking for…aaaaaah!" Hermione's father had just walked in with an empty tube of toothpaste and had to throw himself on the ground in order to avoid being whacked in the head by a rather large frying pan wielded by a now maniacal Mrs. Granger.

Thinking his wife was suffering from an extreme form of PMS, he stood up shakily in an effort to calm her but instead was knocked over by the now thoroughly panicked owl. He lay on his back, watching the owl with great interest as his head throbbed.

"There is an owl in our kitchen," he mumbled as he watched his wife jump on a chair and wave the frying pan in a menacing fashion. "Good morning, Hermione. Lovely weather we're having, isn't it? Could you get Daddy a tube of toothpaste? That's a dear."

And he promptly passed out.

"This calls for action," Hermione thought to herself.

Thinking quickly, she opened the door to the back porch and breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the owl, who was losing feathers rapidly, finally flew out the door and soon disappeared from sight. Her mother reached the door and waved the frying pan at the disappearing form as a warning.

"And don't let me see you come back here or I'll…I'll make a pie out of you…you….beast!!!"

With a final "humph", she closed the door and went over to make a cup of coffee, carefully stepping over her still unconscious husband. She was so frazzled that she didn't even notice that she was putting salt in her coffee rather than sugar. Hermione smiled to herself and then turned once again to the letter.

She carefully broke the seal, splitting it right across the middle. The paper was obviously of very good quality and Hermione felt a pang of jealousy. Beautiful papers and pens were her weaknesses. Well, books too…she couldn't have enough books as the dangerously overfull shelves in her bedroom could attest.

There were several sheets of paper and Hermione started reading,

"Dear Miss Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry….

Hermione read the letter three times and felt butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

She was going to be a witch!

She was going to learn potions and spells and charms and all sorts of really interesting things.

"And the books…think of the books I will read," she thought in delight.

She looked over to her parents. Her father was still on the floor, eyes closed, mumbling something about the oral hygiene requirements of owls and other nocturnal birds. Her mother was absently spreading a very nice layer of rubber cement on her toast, all the while glancing nervously outside.

"I think I will tell them tomorrow," she thought to herself and grinned.