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Summary
Hermione stared wide-eyed at the neatly folded parchment on the table in front of her. Today was her 11th birthday. At least that is what her Father had told her, and she believed him. Hermione believed everything her Father said. If Father said something was so, it was so. That was just a simple fact of life.
She was visibly shaking, hyperventilating, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Hermione was terrified. She whimpered as she looked at the letter. The strange symbols arranged on the front of the parchment filled her with dread. She jumped a little when she felt her Fathers hands on her shoulders from behind.
“Is there anything you would care to tell me?” He asked, calmly as his grip slightly tightened on her shoulders, pulling her body close to his.
“No, sir.” Hermione whispered. Her heart felt like it was trying to jump out of her chest. Her Father was clearly upset and it had something to do with Her and this parchment.