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Hermione knows her name is uncommon, but it’s not the strangest she’s ever heard, even in the wizarding world. All of the letters are pronounced, it’s a mere four syllables, yet the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor cannot say her name correctly.
“Heir-mee-own Grain-ger? Is there an Heir-mee-own here?”
“It’s Her-my-oh-knee, but yes, I’m here.”
“Hem-hem. No need to be rude, dear.”
She didn’t think she was being rude, but Hermione doesn’t say much more. She exchanges a look with Harry who does his best not to laugh
Two days later, it’s a completely different pronunciation.
“Herm-eye-one?”
The young witch waits a beat before rolling her eyes. “Hermione is here, yes.”
“Young lady, you should really learn how to speak respectfully, lest you find yourself with a detention. Consider this your first warning.”
Hermione is annoyed throughout the entire lesson. She breaks her quill due to pressing too hard on the parchment and gripping it too tightly. Wordlessly, Lavender hands her an extra quill from in front of her without a word.
The next week, every fifth year Gryffindor student enters the DADA classroom slowly. Each of them is curious but worried at how Hermione’s name will be pronounced. Over the weekend, the curly-haired witch had ranted about How hard can it be?!
Roll call begins, everyone’s name being called correctly until –
“Er-mee-oh-neh Granger.”
Silence.
Complete and utter silence.
“Does anyone know why Er-mee-oh-neh is not in class today?”
Everyone holds their breath.
“I honestly do not understand why you have such a difficult time saying my name. It is Her-my-oh-knee.”
The short-statured professor turns her head slowly, beady eyes staring at the student. She presses her lips into a thin line and straightens her back, as though it will make her taller. Hermione raises an eyebrow in defiance. The two of them have a silent stand-off.
“My bet’s on Hermione,” Ron whispers to Harry, a little too loudly.
“Hem- hem,” the professor says. “Detention. Both of you!”
A screeching sound echoes in the room as Hermione pushes her chair back. She leans her hands flat on the table in front of her. A grin appears on her lips, one that makes even the Slytherins lean away from her. Except for Blaise Zabini, who tilts his body forward in anticipation.
“Of course, Professor Taking Umbrage. When will that detention be?”
“Umbridge.”
“Pardon?” Hermione tilts her head.
“The name is Umbridge.”
“Are you sure it’s not Ucky-Binge?”
“Young lady –”
“Yes, Professor Ugly-Bid?”
“Hermione,” Harry laughs out her name under his breath.
The entire class is snickering. Blaise is muttering under his breath that She’s brilliant, so brilliant. Why is she a Gryffindor?
“Miss Granger!”
“Professor Under-Eye-Bags?”
They stare at each other again, eyes blazing, neither one wanting to be the first to break.
From behind her, Hermione hears “Stay strong, stay strong.”
It’s worth the tears that well up in her eyes from trying not to blink, but the professor finally lets out a huff and smooths down her atrocious wool pink suit.
“Tomorrow night, Hermione. Detention for you tomorrow.”
Her pronunciation of Hermione’s name is perfect. With a satisfied grin, Hermione sits primly back into her seat. “Tomorrow night, then, Professor Umbridge.”