Despise Not Thy Mother
Chapter 3;
Disclaimer, see chapter 1
Special thanks to my Betas, chapter 1 was beta-ed by Zaraph, chapters 2, 3 (and 4) by the lovely Matriaya.
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"Hermione!" Mrs. Granger called up the stairs to her nine year old daughter's bedroom. "I'm leaving right now!"
"Coming, Mum!" There was a series of bangs, and then, slamming the door behind her, Hermione Granger ran down the stairs, jumping the last two steps.
Mrs. Granger looked her daughter over; she had brushed her teeth, washed her face, and combed her hair (although it didn't really show). Mrs. Granger nodded her satisfaction and said, "Let's go, Hermione."
The pair had little in common. Hermione was shy and quiet, though Mrs. Granger knew she would grow out of it. Mrs. Granger herself was tidy, but she loved to make a mess in her kitchen and her sewing room.
Hermione didn't cook, didn't sew, and rarely cleaned her room, but she shared a passion with her mother; literature. And so it was that every Saturday the women of the Granger household walked to the community library.
Mrs. Granger received many complements from Hermione's teachers; she was quiet, she asked good questions, and she always turned her homework on time. Mr. and Mrs. Granger always praised her intelligence and encouraged her thirst for knowledge.
Truth be told, Hermione had few friends. Oh she had a few, but her shyness was often misconstrued as snobbery. But she was her mother's daughter in this, and she knew Hermione would grow into a confident young woman.
"Mum?" Hermione asked, breaking her mother out of her reverie.
"Yes, Hermione?"
"Are you… proud of me?" she asked quietly.
Shocked, Mrs. Granger answered, "Of course, dear. What makes you think I'm not?"
Hermione shrugged and nervously swung the bag that held her library books around. "I'm not very popular."
"You have good friends in Sarah, Elizabeth, and Hilary."
"I guess."
"Being popular isn't everything. Having good loyal friends that you trust is better."
"You have to say that you're my mother."
"Hermione, how many friends do I have?"
She was silent, thinking for a moment. Both women knew the number wasn't much higher than Hermione's. They were halfway to the library.
"I'm not very pretty…."
"Nonsense. You are a very lovely young lady. Your father and I would rather have a bright intelligent girl than a pretty, but empty, flower pot."
"But beauty helps."
"Hermione, where is all of this coming from?"
"I feel like I'm failing you," she said softly.
The secret was out. Mrs. Granger stopped and hugged her daughter close to her. "You could be the homliest, least popular girl in the world, and failing all of your classes, and I would still be the proudest mother in the world. You are smart and funny and loyal and brave. And you are my library friend." She released her iron grip on the girl.
"Thanks, Mum," Hermione mumbled, slightly embarrassed. They resumed their journey.
"Don't mention it. When I was your age, I had the same fears."
"Really? How did you get over them?"
"When I grew up a little more, I got more confidence in myself. Never underestimate yourself, Hermione. You are very important."
"Thanks Mum. But are you sure you're not just saying that?"
"I'm sure."
They had arrived at the library.