Harry Potter's revenge

May 1989 (Five months after Harry and Daphne's betrothal)]

Hermione Granger, holding a book to her face, lay upside-down on her bed, head and shoulders hanging off the edge, resting but an inch from the floor, long brown hair spreading out like a curly halo. It was a position only a serious book lover could adopt, and she knew she was a serious book lover.

"Hermione," her Mum's voice called through the closed bedroom door, "he's here."

She sighed, snapped the book shut, rolled her body off the bed, onto the floor, and scrambled to her feet.

"Ready Mum," she called.

The door opened, and in walked her Mum and… a boy? Her eyes narrowed.

"This is Harry, dear," Emma Granger said, "Harry, this is my daughter, Hermione."

"Isn't he a little young to be tutoring maths?" she asked.

The boy gave a small smile.

"Harry's math skills are beyond A-level level." Her Mum grinned. "I think the two of you will find you have a lot in common."

Her eye's flickered, and she looked at the black-haired boy again. She'd always fancied herself to be one of those prodigies you occasionally saw on the news, but this boy sounded like he actually was one.

"Well, I'll leave you two to get on with it," Mrs. Granger continued, "if you need anything, Harry, don't hesitate to ask."

The door closed, and she found herself alone with Harry.

"Are you really as good as that?" she asked. Not quite believing this boy was at university level.

"I am."

"Okay then." She snatched her maths book from the desk beside her bed, flipped through to the end, and thrust it in front of his face, pointing at one the equations. "Let's see you solve that then."

The boy looked at the equation, took the book from her, laid it down, rummaged in his bag, and drew out a text-book of his own. He then flipped to the end, and gently handed it to her, pointing at one of the equations.

"This one's for you, Miss Granger."

She looked down at the book the boy had handed her, and blanched. Masses of unknown symbols stared back at her. She didn't have a clue where to start.

After staring at the indecipherable mass of squiggles for a good twenty seconds, gradually feeling the red blush of inadequacy creep up her neck, she looked up. The boy was offering her a notebook. She took it. The answer to the equation she'd given him, complete with working, displayed itself in all its humiliating glory.

The boy looked into her eyes, and smiled.

"That's not fair!" she cried. "You're obviously at a higher level than I am!"

"And now you know that, Miss Granger. I am not your peer, I am your teacher."

She fought to keep the flush, creeping up her neck, from taking over her face.

"So, are you ready to put some hard work into this? Or am I wasting my time?"

"No! I-I mean, yes, I'll work hard."

"Excellent."

For the next two hours, she tackled arithmetic, fought with geometry, and wrestled algebra into the ground. It was intense, but her new teacher made it enjoyable. This was so much better than the snails pace her teachers at school insisted on. The feedback loops were short and tight, and she could feel herself getting better.

"Well, this has been a productive session," her new teacher said, putting his books back in his bag.

"Yes," she agreed, "when's our next one?"

"Your Mum suggested twice a week would be good. How does Saturday morning sound?"

"Great!" she exclaimed, then realised she sounded a little too enthusiastic.

Harry smiled. "Miss Granger, have you ever read Alice in Wonderland?"

"Yes," she replied, thrown by the sudden conversation shift.

"Did you know Lewis Carroll was a mathematician?"

"No." She was shocked that the absurdist story had been written by someone who dealt in rules and logic.

"Your homework is to re-read Alice in Wonderland while looking for relevant principles that Lewis Carroll wove into the story."

Her catlike grin threatened to break free from her face. Now, this was her kind of homework.

"Okay."

Hermione sat on her bed, arms around her knees, watching the clock tick closer and closer to nine o'clock. She hadn't found any mathematics in the book. She'd tried. Oh, she'd tried. She'd put all her mind into it for hours. But Alice's adventures through wonderland seemed to touch on everything but mathematics. It made a mockery of it. Nothing was consistent, not even the way things changed.

She hated failing at assignments, and she felt she had failed. Harry was the first person her age she'd ever met that could keep up with her, and now he was going to think she was stupid. Being smart was all she had. She wasn't athletic, or pretty, or popular.

The clock struck nine. Her execution was due.

The door opened.

"Good morning, Miss Granger." Harry walked through the door. The door closed with a definite click. "Are you ready for today's journey through the looking glass?"

"Ahh… well, Harry…"

Her teacher dragged a chair to the side of the bed, sat down, and stared at her. "What was the single most un-mathematical thing you found?"

"The single… un-mathematical?"

"The single most absurd occurrence, something that defies mathematics and logic."

Hermione was confused. She was grateful that Harry wasn't disappointed with her, but couldn't see how this was relevant to their studies. She thought about his question. "I guess it would be the Mad Hatter's party," she started, feeling a bit more confident "when time stopped at six o'clock but continuity continued."

"Ah, yes. That was a good one. I haven't figured that one out yet. Someone may have, but if they have, they aren't telling."

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