Chapter 2- The Granger Grudge.

I can remember the day Hermione was born so vividly. Of course, I spent most of it in my bed as the midwife did her work. It was a sunny day out; beautiful… especially for September. The leaves on the trees were changing outside and I knew our lives would mirror the world beyond our window. It was a time a change, a refreshing one. We had spent so many years trying to have a baby. For a while, we thought it wouldn't be possible; thought we'd have to adopt, but then the news came… I was pregnant.

My husband nearly fainted, I think. He had rushed to the doctor's office from work, leaving one of his assistants to finish up a cleaning and cancel all other appointments. He took me home and cared for me, treating me like a porcelain doll. I protested when he told me I shouldn't work anymore. We agreed that I'd take the first two years off, but I felt it better that our son or daughter be around other children their age, seeing as having another child would be rather unlikely in our case.

It was a surprise to both of us that the pregnancy went so well. This was just the preface to what an easy child Hermione would be to raise. She always did as we asked and never got into trouble. By the time she was two, Hermione could recognize all of her letters and count to ten. My husband and I certainly made some effort in teaching her things ourselves, but were amazed by her inquisitive nature and learning ability. She could read by the time she was three and spent most of her time having myself or her father read chapter stories to her. When my husband would read, I would just watch her eyes dart across the page, following his finger to each word. Her attention to the pages was amazing.

When we'd go to visit extended family, Hermione would retell the stories the best she could. By the time she was five, Hermione was taking the newspaper after her father read it and sit down until she had finished the information in it. For a long time I wondered if she even understood what she was reading. One day, in October, she asked me "Who was Rock Hudson?" I was astonished to say the least. I told her he was an American actor. Then she inquired further into the details of his death. I was shocked by how much she understood. It was the first time that I realized my little girl was going to grow up much faster than I would like.

I started working half the time at the office, spending more afternoons with Hermione. My husband eventually started taking Fridays off so we could travel Europe and have more family time.

We argued over whether it was some kind of sick joke when Hermione got her letter. We couldn't believe that there was a whole other world that we knew nothing about. We sent a letter to Professor McGonagall, asking her for more information. When we got a personal 'owl' from her, we were even more curious. She had sent us the contact name of a person that dealt with families like ours—new to the world of magic—that would get the supplies Hermione would need and come to collect the money at our door. It all became rather convenient towards us, and we were finally able to approach Hermione about the idea.

She was curiously enthralled. She asked if there were any books on the subject, and I told her I would inquire to those when I wrote for the school supplies. They sent back all the books on the original required list, a cauldron, supplies, quills, ink, and told us they could meet us outside a shop in London for those things she would need to be present for. The woman helping us was dressed in extraordinary robes when we brought Hermione. She led us to a clothing shop first and we waited as Hermione was measured. Instead of having us pay, the woman did, and added it to our tab. The same thing happened as Hermione went for a wand. The woman then led us out of Diagon Alley and back to our normal world, where we paid her in Muggle money and bid her farewell.

After taking Hermione to the train, I came home and cried. My little girl was gone and I was left with my work to do. My husband and I went back to full time dentistry and even started doing a few things on the side. I started counting the days to when Hermione would be back, spent two whole months shopping for Christmas, and awaited her letters with anxiousness.

She never says much on the going-ons at her school, but mentions her friends often. I couldn't wait to meet them, and was glad she had made friends there. Friends never were Hermione's strong suit and it pleased me to know she's gotten on well with people there.

Of course, her friends have also been a disappointing factor. In Hermione's first year, she came home both holidays. Her second, we had to wait until Summer to see her again. Her third… she was hardly home for summer before she was invited to stay at her friend's house. I was excited to hear about the tournament in her fourth year, and to find out that she was staying for Christmas because she had a date to the special dance they were having, but then summer came… and after a week she went to stay with her friend Ron again.

He's a nice boy and it sounds as though his family is great, but I would like some time with my daughter as well. I was extremely excited to take her skiing with us, but that fell through too.

I'm proud to have a daughter who is empathetic and kind to those around her. She's brilliant in everything she does and I've received many letters… owls from her teachers telling me how delighted they are for having her in their class. There are a few things I'm not entirely pleased with… allowing the nurse to shrink her teeth, for example. I suppose my biggest problem with it, though, is that she's growing up and choosing the world that we're not a part of.

I suppose I can only hope that she'll be home this summer… and there's always next Christmas.

A/N: I finally came up with a good one! I was thinking about how much time Hermione spends away from home, and then thought about the fact that I pretty much do the same thing—only going home every six months (on average) to see my family. My mom is a little more naggy about it, but I don't imagine Hermione's mom that way, so this is just the product of my thinking. Hope you enjoy!

Please Please review… I'd really appreciate it.

Thanks:

Countess Mel: Poor Penelope indeed. I'm glad you like Tom's (though I agree that's the most cliché, but I couldn't get it out of my head… so it went onto paper as all ideas who won't get themselves out end up). I enjoy more taking the characters merely mentioned or that we barely glimpse and writing on them… it's just more fun that way! Hope you like this chapter.

Zeynel: Oh thank you! I feel flattered at some of the things you said! I really enjoy writing this fic, because there's a lot of creative liscence to be had. When you work with Harry/Ginny/Hermione/Ron and others that are seen much more, there's always the pressure of having them in character (though I usually write those characters because of the fact that when I write fanfiction, it's usually a break from having to come up with my own characterization…. So that works), but it's fun to get to really decide what makes a person the way they are. Concerning Petunia: I kind of view her own part in Harry's abuse as a sort of steady climb… she might not want him around at first… but then she kind of accepts it… then Harry just makes her think of James (or whatever her cannon reminders are) and she just lets the hate build up inside of her.

Shading in Grey: We, of course, don't know how Penelope feels about the family splitting up like that… especially since Percy's letting it be that way… but I could see Percy slipping into work being more important, and I like the idea of her sticking up for the Weasleys in her own way. I'm glad you like it, and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.