Mrs. Granger
Title: Mrs. Granger
Author: Karina Black, Ravenclaw
Rating: G
Character/Pairing: Hermione/ Mrs. Granger
Genre: Emo :P
Warnings: Did you take your Prozac today?
Word Count: 676
Mrs. Granger
"Another fall, another school year," Henrietta Granger sighed as she packed her daughter's robes and books. A snarl from one of the texts made her jump slightly. She shook it off and tucked it beneath a larger, heavier book Hermione used for pleasure reading.
Henrietta was so proud of her daughter. In her short life, she'd accomplished more than Henrietta, an accomplished orthodontist, could ever dream. She sat and thought of dragons and fairies and bubbling cauldrons, lost in the dream world she could only imagine or visit with her daughter's accompaniment.
She remembered their first trip to Diagon-Alley, the strange shops, the people dressed in funny medieval-looking costumes.
She acknowledged a slight sense of jealousy stirring within, but mostly a sense of loss. A part of her could not reconcile, every time she packed Hermione's things, that she would not be leaving forever. That she was simply visiting a world and doing things that most normal, sane people thought only existed in make-believe.
Such dangers she faced. Henrietta shook her head, blinking back tears. She remembered Hermione's stories from school, and some of the things she read in the copies of the Daily Prophet that Hermione sometimes brought home.
Henrietta knew Hermione didn't like to worry her mother. Yet not knowing made her worry more. If the things she did tell her about were so terrible, what in the world could she be Not telling her? She flashed back to the close relationship they once shared, of sounding out letters and discovering new and amazing things within the covers of the family's encyclopedias. She had dreamed her daughter, so smart so young, would grow up to cure cancer, or solve world hunger. She'd never dreamed Hermione would grow to be a witch. Who knew what would become of her?
Recently, Hermione had mentioned a boy she rather fancied. "Only a matter of time," Henrietta sighed to herself, "before she off and marries and leaves us for good."
Would she visit for Holidays? Would she bring her kids around? Or would she be too embarrassed in front of her beau to introduce him to her poor, ignorant non-magical mother.
It wasn't long before the tears streamed unabashedly down Henrietta's face. She brushed a lock of curly brown hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear.
Of course they'd always knew their precocious little Hermione would qualify for the best private school they could afford, and would be leaving them for part of the year, but she never dreamed it would be this hard. Hogwart's was so near, yet so far away. Her thoughts scattered. She knelt over Hermione's bed stroking the soft pillow that had cradled her head as she slept, the quilt her Grandmother made to keep her warm, a gift when she was little.
If anything did happen, anything horrible, her baby would be too far away to help... and being what she was, there would be nothing she could do anyway.
Henrietta sobbed, clutching the pillow to her breast, mourning time lost, trips to the zoo with Hermione riding high atop her father's shoulders. Surely the zoo would never again hold her daughter's interest after the exotic things she'd seen.
Hermione came in to find her trunk half-packed, and her mother a sobbing heap upon her bed.
"Oh Mum REALLY!" she said exasperated. "It's not like I'm leaving forever," she gasped haughtily, throwing the remainder of her belongings in the trunk.
Henrietta forced a smile. "Someday," she thought, "you might have a daughter you love."
"I know," she smiled, catching Hermione's arm and pulling her in close, holding her tight. "I just love you, and I miss you, and I worry about you..."
Hermione squeezed her Mother briefly, then pulled away.
"Mum, I've got to go!" she sighed turning toward the door.
Henrietta nodded and forced another smile, holding back her tears. "Do well in school, dear," was all she could think to say.
Then she did the hardest thing a Mother ever has to do- she let her go.
Karina Black, Ravenclaw
Author: Karina Black, Ravenclaw
Rating: G
Character/Pairing: Hermione/ Mrs. Granger
Genre: Emo :P
Warnings: Did you take your Prozac today?
Word Count: 676
Mrs. Granger
"Another fall, another school year," Henrietta Granger sighed as she packed her daughter's robes and books. A snarl from one of the texts made her jump slightly. She shook it off and tucked it beneath a larger, heavier book Hermione used for pleasure reading.
Henrietta was so proud of her daughter. In her short life, she'd accomplished more than Henrietta, an accomplished orthodontist, could ever dream. She sat and thought of dragons and fairies and bubbling cauldrons, lost in the dream world she could only imagine or visit with her daughter's accompaniment.
She remembered their first trip to Diagon-Alley, the strange shops, the people dressed in funny medieval-looking costumes.
She acknowledged a slight sense of jealousy stirring within, but mostly a sense of loss. A part of her could not reconcile, every time she packed Hermione's things, that she would not be leaving forever. That she was simply visiting a world and doing things that most normal, sane people thought only existed in make-believe.
Such dangers she faced. Henrietta shook her head, blinking back tears. She remembered Hermione's stories from school, and some of the things she read in the copies of the Daily Prophet that Hermione sometimes brought home.
Henrietta knew Hermione didn't like to worry her mother. Yet not knowing made her worry more. If the things she did tell her about were so terrible, what in the world could she be Not telling her? She flashed back to the close relationship they once shared, of sounding out letters and discovering new and amazing things within the covers of the family's encyclopedias. She had dreamed her daughter, so smart so young, would grow up to cure cancer, or solve world hunger. She'd never dreamed Hermione would grow to be a witch. Who knew what would become of her?
Recently, Hermione had mentioned a boy she rather fancied. "Only a matter of time," Henrietta sighed to herself, "before she off and marries and leaves us for good."
Would she visit for Holidays? Would she bring her kids around? Or would she be too embarrassed in front of her beau to introduce him to her poor, ignorant non-magical mother.
It wasn't long before the tears streamed unabashedly down Henrietta's face. She brushed a lock of curly brown hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear.
Of course they'd always knew their precocious little Hermione would qualify for the best private school they could afford, and would be leaving them for part of the year, but she never dreamed it would be this hard. Hogwart's was so near, yet so far away. Her thoughts scattered. She knelt over Hermione's bed stroking the soft pillow that had cradled her head as she slept, the quilt her Grandmother made to keep her warm, a gift when she was little.
If anything did happen, anything horrible, her baby would be too far away to help... and being what she was, there would be nothing she could do anyway.
Henrietta sobbed, clutching the pillow to her breast, mourning time lost, trips to the zoo with Hermione riding high atop her father's shoulders. Surely the zoo would never again hold her daughter's interest after the exotic things she'd seen.
Hermione came in to find her trunk half-packed, and her mother a sobbing heap upon her bed.
"Oh Mum REALLY!" she said exasperated. "It's not like I'm leaving forever," she gasped haughtily, throwing the remainder of her belongings in the trunk.
Henrietta forced a smile. "Someday," she thought, "you might have a daughter you love."
"I know," she smiled, catching Hermione's arm and pulling her in close, holding her tight. "I just love you, and I miss you, and I worry about you..."
Hermione squeezed her Mother briefly, then pulled away.
"Mum, I've got to go!" she sighed turning toward the door.
Henrietta nodded and forced another smile, holding back her tears. "Do well in school, dear," was all she could think to say.
Then she did the hardest thing a Mother ever has to do- she let her go.
Karina Black, Ravenclaw