Back to School Drabble - "Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, honey"
500 words.
Hermione had always been a precocious child. She had started reading at the age of two, and had demanded to write by age four. At age seven, she had read all of the children's books that both of her parents had inherited, plus half of the books meant for teenagers. At age ten, she had already begun imagining her own world, with her own characters, her own book.
Hermione had always been a precocious child. But she hadn't always been a very organised one.
'Hermione, honey?' her mother knocked at the door, pushing it open with her back as she carried a fresh pile of her daughter's clothes.
Hermione looked up.
'Would you mind tidying your room?'
'But I need all of this!' Hermione waved a small arm around her.
Papers were strewn on the floor - drawings of characters, maps of towns and cities and villages and countries, small post its about character backgrounds and, of course, atlases and books on how to make a believable character.
'I know, I know,' Jean Granger said quietly, watching her daughter pore over another large book. 'But chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, honey.'
'Really?' Hermione's eyes widened and she reached for her natural history book, ready to cross reference her mother's facts.
Jean Granger sighed, putting her laundry basket down and crouching next to her daughter.
'Not physically,' she said, stroking Hermione's bushy mane. 'But all of your notes will get lost if you don't put everything in 'll save so much time if you kept all of this in notebooks.''
Secretly, Jean also thought that she would finally be able to vacuum her daughter's room.
'Then I won't be a dinosaur,' Hermione said determinedly. 'Mum, do you have any spare notebooks?
Jean's face broke into a broad grin. 'Of course, honey.'
Three months later, Jean was half regretting her words. Her daughter's floor was neat, but timetables were pinned to the walls, detailing precisely what Hermione would do with her free time and when. Green notebooks lines one end of the shelves, filled with information about Hermione's maps and plans, and red notebooks were stacked neatly on the other side, filled with her homework for class and everything she wanted to know but didn't. Hermione herself was lying propped up on her bed, reading the Chronicles of Narnia, by C. S. Lewis. The book was so big that Hermione was resting it against the wall as she read.
'Hermione,' she asked hesitantly. 'Would you like to come and have a snack? I baked a fresh batch of flapjacks.'
'What time is it?' Hermione asked, pausing whatever she was reading.
'Quarter to four,' her mother replied, checking her watch.
'No thanks then,' Hermione replied seriously, going back to her book. 'Snack time is at four.'
'You can have a snack now if you like, you know, Hermione,' Jean reminded her gently. 'The world won't end if you deviate from your schedule.'
'No,' Hermione replied, 'but chaos is what killed the dinosaurs.'