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Hermione Granger died three days before her husband did. She had many theories about life-after-death, but all of them had included seeing her family that had passed before her. None of them were about being born to new parents.
Or with pink hair.
Sakura Haruno’s first word was spoken seconds after she was born. Neither of her parents were sure where she managed to pick up the word, “Fuck!” in the short time she had been alive.
“She didn’t get that from my side of the family,” her new mother said.
“It’s not my uncle that curses every time he drinks more than a few glasses,” her new father said.
Having already said one word, Hermione didn’t bother trying to hide her speaking ability from her parents, who declared her a genius. They were ecstatic when she met her new friend, Ginny who introduced herself as Ino, and were amused when Ginny’s father finally managed to track her down after hours of frantically searching.
They were, however, wary when Hermione mentioned wanting to join the ninja academy. A ninja’s profession was a dangerous one, but Ginny had already been signed up by her parents, along with Shikamaru and Choji, in the hopes of making another Ino-Shika-Cho trio, and since Ginny, her only friend, was attending, Hermione’s parents signed her up as well.
Being the only civilian-born student currently in their class, the bullies targeted her almost instantly. One girl in particular set in on her hair, claiming pink wasn’t a proper ninja color. Hermione had gotten used to her pink hair, even if pink wasn’t her favorite color. Plus nearly a hundred years’ experience dealing with bratty children, both as a student and a teacher, left Hermione with the ability to insult them right back, something she had been incapable of during her first childhood.
“A pity you don’t have such a unique color,” Hermione said, “to draw attention away from your ugly face.”
“Well, you, you, you’ve got a big forehead!” the girl said after a few moments of shock. Apparently none of her previous bullying victims had fought back, even if only verbally.
“Of course I do,” Hermione agreed, “to store my gigantic genius-level brain, you blithering ignoramus.”
The girl frowned, looking at Hermione with squinty eyes, “Wha-what?”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” Hermione said. “Would you like me to speak slower or to use smaller words?”
Hermione’s parents were unimpressed that she managed to get into a fistfight on her first day, but at least the bullies left her alone after she and Ginny handed them their asses.