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shallownessFar, Far Better. Harry Potter. Universal.
Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Harry, Arthur (Ron/Hermione)
Summary: Why Hermione is unsociable and everyone is okay with that.
624 words. Written for the prompt ‘Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, curled up with a good book’ at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic
Far, Far Better: shallowness
"Do you need anything, love?" Ron asked, knowing he wasn’t going to get an answer from Hermione. He gestured at Harry and Ginny to have a go.
“Hermione, we’ve just come over to redecorate the nursery. Luna’s given us some illustrations of the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks to copy,” Harry said.
Hermione didn’t even stir, her face intent, her eyes scanning the words on the book in front of her.
“The Minister for Magic has resigned and that man off the WWN who tells everyone they’re no hexing good is going to take her place,” Ginny said rather loudly.
Her sister-in-law made an ‘mmm’ noise, which at least showed she’d registered hearing something. Grinning, Ron turned to Harry and Ginny, gesturing them towards the kitchen, planning to make a refilling cup of herbal tea for his wife and then proper tea for them.
"I told you she wouldn’t talk to you. But, honestly, she's much better now that Dad's brought her some books." he said, as Harry took a seat by the table, as he had so many times before. "Hermione was bored out of her mind the start of the week. I know the healer had good reason to tell her to put her feet up and relax to get the blood pressure down but--"
"That's no way of getting Hermione to relax," Ginny said.
"She was basically owling her office all the time."
"And they were owling you back complaining about it," Harry said with a grin, having been by Ron’s side when those owls had kept coming, looking more frazzled and knackered each time.
"Yeah, well that's stopped. At least now I know that if there's an owl, it'll mean the baby's coming."
"Here, hand me that kettle," Ginny said practically. Ron had been very matter-of-fact once mum and the healer had pointed out that high blood pressure in the last stages of pregnancy was easily managed and Hermione didn’t need admission to St Mungo’s or anything, but she knew her brother was nervous. They all did. It was why Hermione and Ron's friends and family were keeping an unofficial rota to visit them. "So, Dad got her those books then. I thought they were Muggle."
"Second hand, too. Old." Harry observed, remembering his primary school library.
"Yeah. I'd like to say it was entirely out of the goodness of his heart, but I think he got a kick out of going to a Muggle bookshop and rooting around." Ron observed. “He probably wouldn’t mind if the baby came late and Hermione needed more books.”
"How many books did he take home to the Burrow?" Ginny asked.
"One or two. They were big and they had diagrams." Ron said. "But he got Hermione some novels. All by one bloke. Charles Dawkins, I think."
"Dickens?" Harry asked.
"Could be, mate. Hermione's loving them, she's already finished one, it was called Martin Chuzzlewhat, although she swore blind it was nothing to do with Martin the Muggle. She's on David Copperfield now. They're not all books with blokes' names.”
“He wrote something about Christmas,” Harry murmured, and frowned, trying to remember.
“You could have a look, although I don’t think Hermione will lend you a copy until after she’s read it.”
“Devoured it, more like.”
Ginny rolled her eyes and poured the boiling water into the teapot. The sight of Hermione, curled up with a book resting on her bump, as lost in it as if it were a textbook, had relieved her. Ron wasn't the only one who was a little nervous, but seeing Hermione in her element was a reminder that she was the most brilliant witch of her generation. The next chapter of their lives was going to be a good one.
Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Harry, Arthur (Ron/Hermione)
Summary: Why Hermione is unsociable and everyone is okay with that.
624 words. Written for the prompt ‘Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, curled up with a good book’ at
comment_fic"Do you need anything, love?" Ron asked, knowing he wasn’t going to get an answer from Hermione. He gestured at Harry and Ginny to have a go.
“Hermione, we’ve just come over to redecorate the nursery. Luna’s given us some illustrations of the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks to copy,” Harry said.
Hermione didn’t even stir, her face intent, her eyes scanning the words on the book in front of her.
“The Minister for Magic has resigned and that man off the WWN who tells everyone they’re no hexing good is going to take her place,” Ginny said rather loudly.
Her sister-in-law made an ‘mmm’ noise, which at least showed she’d registered hearing something. Grinning, Ron turned to Harry and Ginny, gesturing them towards the kitchen, planning to make a refilling cup of herbal tea for his wife and then proper tea for them.
"I told you she wouldn’t talk to you. But, honestly, she's much better now that Dad's brought her some books." he said, as Harry took a seat by the table, as he had so many times before. "Hermione was bored out of her mind the start of the week. I know the healer had good reason to tell her to put her feet up and relax to get the blood pressure down but--"
"That's no way of getting Hermione to relax," Ginny said.
"She was basically owling her office all the time."
"And they were owling you back complaining about it," Harry said with a grin, having been by Ron’s side when those owls had kept coming, looking more frazzled and knackered each time.
"Yeah, well that's stopped. At least now I know that if there's an owl, it'll mean the baby's coming."
"Here, hand me that kettle," Ginny said practically. Ron had been very matter-of-fact once mum and the healer had pointed out that high blood pressure in the last stages of pregnancy was easily managed and Hermione didn’t need admission to St Mungo’s or anything, but she knew her brother was nervous. They all did. It was why Hermione and Ron's friends and family were keeping an unofficial rota to visit them. "So, Dad got her those books then. I thought they were Muggle."
"Second hand, too. Old." Harry observed, remembering his primary school library.
"Yeah. I'd like to say it was entirely out of the goodness of his heart, but I think he got a kick out of going to a Muggle bookshop and rooting around." Ron observed. “He probably wouldn’t mind if the baby came late and Hermione needed more books.”
"How many books did he take home to the Burrow?" Ginny asked.
"One or two. They were big and they had diagrams." Ron said. "But he got Hermione some novels. All by one bloke. Charles Dawkins, I think."
"Dickens?" Harry asked.
"Could be, mate. Hermione's loving them, she's already finished one, it was called Martin Chuzzlewhat, although she swore blind it was nothing to do with Martin the Muggle. She's on David Copperfield now. They're not all books with blokes' names.”
“He wrote something about Christmas,” Harry murmured, and frowned, trying to remember.
“You could have a look, although I don’t think Hermione will lend you a copy until after she’s read it.”
“Devoured it, more like.”
Ginny rolled her eyes and poured the boiling water into the teapot. The sight of Hermione, curled up with a book resting on her bump, as lost in it as if it were a textbook, had relieved her. Ron wasn't the only one who was a little nervous, but seeing Hermione in her element was a reminder that she was the most brilliant witch of her generation. The next chapter of their lives was going to be a good one.
