The girl looked about ten years old, had brown eyes and unruly, thick brown hair. Her front teeth were slightly larger than usual. She was wearing a dark blue school uniform: a skirt, jacket, and a white blouse.
Noticing Richard, the girl looked up from her notebook and looked at the boy with a curious gaze.
"Hello," she said. "Are you Dad's client?"
- If Dad is Dr. Granger, then yes. I'm Richie.
- I'm Hermione Granger. Nice to meet you.
"I'm also incredibly happy," Richie gave Hermione a toothless, white smile that shone with the missing tooth. "Until the anesthesia wears off, I'm the happiest man in the world. By the way, that haircut looks great on you."
"Don't talk nonsense!" Hermione puffed out her cheeks, offended. "I forgot to comb my hair today."
"Really?" Richard raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And I thought you were a big fashionista. At the office where I worked as a courier, all the fashionistas had similar hairstyles."
"You're working?!" Hermione's face took on a look of surprise. She stopped being offended, realizing Richie wasn't joking.
- Not anymore. I was working part-time a couple of months ago.
- Cool! But how did you work? You're small.
"Hermione, it's just an illusion," Richie chuckled and continued, "Actually, my father made me work part-time in his office. Although, it's worth noting that the payoff was huge. Any donkey would have worked their asses off for that."
- What about school? Or did you work after school?
- I finished elementary school.
"You don't look twelve years old," Hermione said, her face and voice skeptical. "More like my age."
- I didn't even tell you my age. I'll be nine this summer.
"It can't be!" Hermione exclaimed incredulously. "You're lying to me!"
"I didn't even think about it. I passed my exams as an external student and spent the last six months in fifth grade. But I got bored, so I buckled down and passed my exams for the entire elementary school year. My father and teachers think I'm a genius, but I don't think so."
"Genius..." Hermione was upset. "And I have to study in the fourth grade, even though I'll be ten in September. And why weren't I born three weeks earlier? It's unfair that some people finish school early, while others have to study longer!"
"Life's not fair," Richie shrugged and decided to change the subject. Nodding at the notebook, he asked, "What are you writing?"
- Yes, I...
Hermione's cheeks turned pink with embarrassment and she covered her notebook with her hands.
"Don't be shy. If these are love poems, I'll understand."
"No, these aren't love poems!" Hermione exclaimed. "This is something else..."
- Mmm... You know how to spark a man's interest.
"Pfft!" Hermione chuckled. "A man!" she said sarcastically. "You're a boy and you'll be one for a long time."
"It depends on how you look at it. For some, a few years is a long time. As for me, I'd rather be a kid as long as possible. Injuries heal almost instantly, teeth grow back a second time, you don't have to work... Although that's not the case for everyone. In any case, it's better to be a boy than an adult."
Hermione paused briefly. She sat there with a vacant look in her eyes for a few seconds. Then she perked up and said:
- You're crazy!
"No, I'm a boy with the mind of an adult. It's not madness. And anyway, admit it, geniuses and simply smart people often seem crazy to the average person. For example, instead of playing, a smart girl will sit with a notebook and write something in it."
"Um..." Hermione was confused. "You're not going to laugh?"
"I can't promise. Hermione, if you tell me something funny, I won't hold back my laughter. But I promise that if we're talking about serious things, I'll try not to laugh."
"I..." Hermione thought for a moment, then her face took on a determined look. "I was writing a letter to the Queen!"
"Mmm..." Richard drawled meaningfully. "Why?"
"I want to attend the annual meeting between children and the Queen. I wrote a letter to the Queen about it, but I don't know what to write."
"Hmm... Hermione, did you know that the Queen receives thousands of letters every year from children wanting to go on a tour of Windsor Castle and have tea with her? Naturally, she doesn't read the letters herself; there's a whole department in the Chancellery dedicated to that. Of all the children in Great Britain, only twenty or thirty are selected."
"I know," the girl looked upset. "But what if I were lucky? I've been dreaming of seeing Windsor Castle..."