The "Harry Potter" series holds a special place in my heart, as it does for many people of my generation. We grew up with Harry, Ron, and Hermione -- saw ourselves in their successes, their heartbreaks, their failures. We read the newest books under blankets with a flashlight after it was time for bed, asked our parents for tickets to the movies as they came out.

I loved Hermione from the start. She was unapologetically bossy, a know-it-all, bright and bold and not budging an inch from what she believed in. I saw myself in her, young and bright and not quite sure what my voice was or how to find it. She helped me along, didn't even know it, saved Ron and Harry more times than they saved themselves and took it all in stride. I wanted to be just like Hermione Granger; all the girls in my class did. She was bushy-haired and big-toothed but no less fascinating, no less strong.

When I got a little older, I realized that Hermione excelling so much at everything she tried was not just luck, it was an obsession. For those who read the books, think back to "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban". Hermione's boggart, her literal biggest fear, is failing her classes. To avoid failing, she does the best she can, the only thing she can, and succeeds to a level of obsession and distraction.

Again in "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban": Hermione was gradually slipping from all the stress she was putting on herself due to an obscene number of classes. She was an anxious, stressed-out, overworked mess. She fell asleep in the common room, stayed up until ungodly hours doing homework, trying so hard to succeed in so many different areas that she ultimately ended up burned out because she had no fire left to give, no matter how hard and stubbornly she tried.

She snapped at her friends during exams, drafted timetables and study guides for Harry and Ron because it stressed her out by proxy to see them slacking and not meeting her level of academic intensity. While of course she succeeded, there was a deep and pervasive fear that she would not. There are a couple reasons why this could be, but I believe it stemmed from her fear of being less-than. Despite being a brilliant witch, she could not change her parentage, which continually causes her to be at best underestimated and, at worst, discriminated against.

It took older eyes to see Hermione as she was: a brilliant, but flawed, character. Just like every human on this earth, she was built to be imperfect. In my teen years, I saw her like I was, a scared teenage girl hanging on to success in school as a comfort blanket. She tried so hard to be perfect, a goal that not even Hermione Granger can achieve.

Hermione was never satisfied with anything but perfection, but over the years (and the ensuing battles with the Forces of Evil) she eventually is forced to concede that perfection is unattainable.

Part of Hermione's power as a character comes from her ability to realize this. While Harry is the one who carries the burden of being The Chosen One and fighting Voldemort and all that jazz, Hermione can offer help through her analytical, brilliant ways. Harry would be pretty dead pretty much right out of the gate if it weren't for Hermione, but I like to think that she learned a lot from Ron and Harry, as well. She learned how to let her hair down (literally, in Goblet of Fire) and embrace her emotions as well as letting herself be cool and analytical when the situation calls for it.

Hermione comes a long way from the eleven-year-old girl who knows the facts after obsessively swallowing the textbook but panics in the face of real-world danger much different than Herbology exams. Example: When Ron is trapped in the Devil's Snare in the first book, Hermione's spouting off information of the plant, knowing it shrivels up in the sun but afraid she can't do anything without firewood, Ron has to shout "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"

Then she saves his life like it's no big deal.

Seventeen-year-old Hermione, however, uses all she's learned in the prior books about love, loss, friendship, and bravery. She combines these essential skills to something she has, her unique brilliance and ability to learn, to become not just an academic but a brilliant and truly powerful witch.

You go, Hermione.

She learns, gradually, painfully, from her anxieties and perfectionism. She grows to accept it, make it work for her, and eventually become part of the team that takes down Voldemort. She learns to forsake her education for a greater, nobler cause that needs her, sacrificing her last year of school to help Harry. No questions asked. Just trust.

Hermione is powerful because she is real. She is powerful even when she falls in love, when she falls behind, when she fails, when she triumphs. I see myself in Hermione -- not just the self who does well in school, reads for pleasure, or answers questions in class, but the self who wrings hands, worries about grades, obsesses over homework. If anxious Hermione can bring down Voldemort, I can take on life today. So can you. So can all of us.

Plus, she had this iconic and well-deserved moment:

Hermione for President 2016.