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| Fanfiction Division |
Behold the latest addition to the GA!
We've instituted a Division of Granger's Army for the fans, by
the fans and of the fans!
Submit your stories to rilian@booksandwands.com.
We have the honor of presenting our first fanfiction by a true
fan and great author, DeliverMeFromEve.
We've instituted a Division of Granger's Army for the fans, by
the fans and of the fans!
Submit your stories to rilian@booksandwands.com.
We have the honor of presenting our first fanfiction by a true
fan and great author, DeliverMeFromEve.
- When Hermione Jean Granger was 9, her mother, Rose, gave
giving her a questioning stare, wondering how on earth the
practical Rose Granger ever got the notion to give her a book
about silly girls matchmaking and rich men finding wives.
- “Emma?” asked Hermione.
- “By Jane Austen,” Rose replied.
- Hermione’s brows had knotted. She turned the book over in
romance novel. Jane Austen writes romance novels.” She took
umbrage at that.
- Rose had just smiled and said, “Read it. All textbook and
invented that saying, but Rose Granger would use it many times
through the course of Hermione’s life. In the meantime, that
would be the first time Rose would use the adage, and it would
mark Hermione’s first foray into fiction.
- She had opened the book and found a name scribbled at the
- “Jane?” Hermione asked.
- Rose had shrugged. “I thought you’d be a Jane when I first
booties or silver rattles. Hermione Granger got a book. “Your
father liked Jean better. No matter. It’s just two letters.”
- It had bothered Hermione. She wanted to change that name
neither should she, she thought.
- Hermione remembered heeding her mother’s advice about
she had enjoyed reading Emma exceedingly. When her mother had
asked her about it at dinner that night, Hermione replied with
a long and technical literary analysis of why Jane Austen had
written a masterpiece. Rose had looked mildly disappointed by
her daughter’s response.
- Hermione had been confused at that. She had thought her
out insight and opinion. For a long time, Hermione never
figured out why.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
- Hermione Jean Weasley, 38, found Emma hidden underneath a
colored hardcover was slightly crisp at the edges, but the
bindings seemed solid as she picked it out of the box. It
opened with a soft crackle, and on its blank first page she
saw her name — or what should have been her name.
- “Hermione Jane Granger,” she read out loud.
- Ron looked up from his own box of thingamajigs
- “It’s what my mother had wanted to name me. Dad preferred
- His eyebrow arched and he went back to work. “I was
‘em all cleanly with a spell.”
- A heavy silence descended upon them, though he continued
- “What for?” Hermione finally asked.
- He sniffed. “You’re right, of course. No sense in changing
- No sense indeed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
- Hermione Jean Granger sat in a quiet coffee shop two days
seemed deep in thought as he fiddled restlessly with his
hands. His wedding ring glittered in the sunlight as he
twisted it.
She looked at her own hand. Her finger now lay bare, with
there.
- “Really, there was no point in him coming,” Hermione said
signed and all. Just needed to be notarized, so I suppose he
didn’t actually have to be there...”
His gaze met hers, and she knew she could never get a lie
right now, he probably understood how much it meant for her to
have had Ron present at the finalization of their divorce. Not
that divorcing Ron Weasley was an occasion to celebrate, but
in spite of everything that led to the demise of their
marriage, Hermione had hoped that the friendship that had kept
them together for twenty years would have meant something,
even on a day like this one. She had already lost a husband.
She had hoped she would be able to keep her best friend.
- “Give him time,” Harry said, giving her hand a soft
- She squeezed back. “What if— what if he runs off with our
- He shot her a disparaging look.
- She shot back with a stubborn frown. “My kids hate me.
think that? I’m the one who’s always uptight. I’m the one who
nags everyone in the house. I’m the one who makes Ron feel
like— like...they’d gladly run off with their father—“
“Your kids do not hate you. They probably hate the
with them. Ron could be many kinds of prat, but not that kind.”
Harry was right, of course, but she began to cry anyway,
could comfort her properly. The warmth of his arms around her
was reassuring and it felt good to cry.
- He gave her his handkerchief. She used it to wipe away her
- “Did Ginny embroider this?” Hermione asked nonsensically,
- “Every single stitch,” he said.
- She strangled a snort. Ginny Potter, the homemaker.
At least she managed to keep her husband, unlike some career
women I know...
- She smudged the letters with her dark brown eyeliner.
- “Don’t worry about it. Lots more where that came from...”
- She nodded, wiping off more tears. “Maybe this is the sort
home and embroidered his initials on handkerchiefs and made
elegant home-cooked meals and crafted pretty, clever party
favors every time we had friends over for dinner...”
- Harry’s lips straightened to a line. “Hermione, don’t.”
- “I’m just saying,” she went on miserably. “Molly raised
me. Ginny’s certainly an expert. She’s an Enchanted Homes
magazine favorite— and how many kitchens do you have in your
house? Three? I can’t even run one properly. No offense to
your wife, but she makes me look pretty damn bad!”
- He said nothing, and she wondered if she had crossed some
- “I’m sorry,” she said half-heartedly. “I didn’t mean to
- “Don’t be,” he said, then he blushed, which made Hermione
- It occurred to Hermione that she hadn’t seen Ginny in
articles, but it had been a while since Mrs. Potter had
invited them for tea or dinner. That might have been on
account of the divorce proceedings she and Ron had to deal
with in the last few months.
- “How is Ginny, by the way?” she asked.
- “Alright,” he replied, quickly. Too quickly.
- “Good.” She fidgeted uncomfortably with the handkerchief.
- “She wants another baby. Did Ron tell you about that?”
- “No. Does she, now? Probably missing having children in
- “Probably.”
- “Does she want a girl or a boy?”
“Another girl, maybe. She’s still deciding.”
- That sounded odd and Hermione chuckled. “Oh, is she? Has
future circumstance that may provide her with an answer?”
Now Harry really frowned.
- “I’m terrible today, aren’t I?” Hermione hastily said. “I
- “She’s a very loving wife, Hermione.”
- “I know. I know. I’m a complete berk.”
- “She lives for me, our children, the house... she’s
- Hermione eyed him suspiciously as he seemed to get lost in
asking her if there were still things that needed moving from
her house to her parents’, where Hermione would be staying
until she could find a new place while her and Ron’s lawyers
were selling the one they previously shared.
- “Some books,” Hermione replied. “Old ones, but I’d like to
- “Come on, then,” he said, helping her to her feet. “I’ll
- “He won’t be there,” she said quietly.
- Harry just nodded as he let her lead the way out of the
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
- Ron wasn’t there, and without the children, the house was
- Everything was immaculately clean. It was much easier to
that they were horrible at it, just that Hermione got annoyed
each time she had to pick up after everyone, resenting the
fact that she had to tell Ron to help her do it, rather than
have him do it at his own initiative.
- “I think you missed a spot right here,” Harry said, wiping
rub of his sleeve.
- She chuckled. “No teasing. I’m a divorced woman today.
- He smirked, too sure that he could still make her laugh,
- They headed up to the attic and there were two boxes of
could very well be levitated to make carrying them easier, but
Hermione appreciated the company.
- Harry got on his knees and took the sealing tape nearby.
book I spy? I didn’t know you read fiction.”
- “You’re teasing again. You very well know I read fiction,
Jane Austen.”
- “Jane Austen...oh, now I remember. She’s one of your
- It was amazing how Harry remembered things like that.
gave it to me supposedly on the day I was born.”
- “You sure you didn’t come out of her holding it?”
- “Haha. Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t born with a
- Harry lifted the front cover. “Hermione Jane?”
- “Mum thought I’d be a Jane when she bought the book for
- Harry thought about it. “I like Jane. Jean’s nice, but
- Hermione smiled in spite of herself.
- They worked together sealing the boxes, and when the boxes
Shrinking made Apparating with them easier, and when they got
to the Grangers’ front porch, he un-shrunk them with a quick
wave of his wand.
- “Thanks, Harry,” Hermione said. “Care to come inside? I
honey and jams. Some of them have your name on them.”
He grinned. “I’ll come by again soon enough. Right now, I
bit.
- “Enchanted Homes again?”
- “Magical Gardens, this time. Same publication, different
Hermione examined the glazed look in his eyes. “Do it for
- He sighed. “Who else do you think I do it for?”
She shrugged. “It means a lot to her.”
- He just smiled. He paused, was about to say something, but
Hermione.”
- “You too, Harry.”
- He kissed her cheek and walked off, a slight slump in his
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
- “Look, mum,” Hermione said, plucking the old book from the
- Rose seemed mildly surprised for a bit before she smiled.
even if there were many non-fiction books that Hermione had
read before it. In Rose’s mind, she gave the book to her
daughter on the day Hermione was born, so it would be Hermione’
s first book.
- Rose pushed back the hardcover. “Oh, you never changed the
- Hermione smirked. “I suppose I never did.” She waved her
- Rose seemed surprised. “I meant— oh, never mind. It’s just
- Hermione knew what she meant, of course, but Rose was
- “Was that Harry outside just now?” Rose asked, carefully
- Hermione nodded. “He just helped me haul these. He had to
Sends you his love.”
- “He always does. How are the Potters doing?”
- Hermione paused too long. Rose’s eyebrow was arching in
- “They’re fine,” Hermione said.
- Rose didn’t push. She wasn’t a gossip. Hermione liked to
- “I love Mr. Knightley best,” said Rose as she got further
people who could see faults in Emma Woodhouse, and the only
one who ever told her of them... Possibly the only person in
this book with any sense, though the other characters are so
charming anyway that I could only love them all for it.”
- Hermione gave it a brief thought. “Mr. Knightley? Really?”
- “Well, who do you like best, then?”
- Hermione shrugged. “Emma, imperfect as she is, has a
and endearingly well-intentioned. I relate to her greatly.”
“Do you? Interesting.”
- “You don’t agree?”
- “Well, it’s a matter of personal opinion, is what I think.”
- “No, tell me what you think. Don’t you think I make a fine
- Rose laughed at that. “Why does everyone aspire to be
have her readers admiring Emma so. She had, in fact, thought
that she made Emma properly unlikable.”
- “Never Emma! She’s a dear! So kind, yet so clueless. Don’t
- Rose shrugged. “Oh, I like Emma exceedingly, but I always
- “Oh, well, that’s natural, what with my top hat and
- “Silly girl, you know what I mean. He is the wisdom and
the right path. He is her true friend. Anyone should want to
be the Mr. Knightleys for the Emmas of the world.”
- Hermione laughed. “So you agree that there are indeed many
- “No. I agree that there are Emmas, but I don’t think there
- “Indeed. ‘Handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable
blessings of existence.’ You’re right. They’re rare enough!”
- “Seeming is the right word. Many Emmas have convinced
people around them paint them to be. The Emmas are easily
convinced, simply because it seems more comfortable that way.
They fancy themselves blessed, but when they have their Mr.
Knightleys remind them of their responsibilities, they often
rebel, and only realize in the end that Mr. Knightley was the
right one all along. A lot of celebrities are Emmas, I’d
wager, and not all of them have Mr. Knightleys, the poor
dears.”
- Hermione could only grin. “It seems to me that I’m nothing
- “Well, that would be rather silly, wouldn’t it?” Rose
Harriet...don’t you think so? Hanging on to the perfect image
that is Emma— relying on her just because she’s convinced
herself that she couldn’t get on, on her own. Aspiring for the
wrong man once or twice, even?”
- Hermione shot her mother a sardonic look. “Thanks for
- Rose patted her hand sympathetically. “Dear, you and Ron
“Right. So if Ron is Harriet, I assume you’re telling me I
haven’t quite found my Emma.”
- Rose looked thoughtful again. “I don’t know about that. I
- “Oh, he’ll look smashing in a dress.”
- Rose snapped the book shut. “Laugh if you like. Jane’s
I had hoped you’d learn a thing or two from it. Maybe you
should reread it. You obviously missed the point.”
- Hermione was greatly amused.
- Nevertheless, she tucked the book back into her box,
of Emma since she read it at 9 would be different, and perhaps
next time she gave her opinion of it to Rose, Hermione might
actually discover what her mother had wanted her to find in
the first place.
Finding Jane
|
