I've been participating in an online discussion of the Harry Potter books, and recently a few of us commented on how strange this whole experience must be for Hermione's parents. We barely see them throughout the series - and they barely see her, especially after the third book. Here's a reflection from their perspective to the tune of Simon and Garfunkel's My Little Town.
Our Little Girl
Well, our little girl,
She always is leaving.
We scarcely see her at all.
Oh, it would mean so much to us
If she would just stay here till the fall.
Boy, she's getting tall!
Our little girl.
Since she went to that school,
Flying on broomsticks and taking Arithmancy,
Our lives are defined by
Waiting for owls on a howling breeze.
She eases our pain with her parchment,
Her escapades shining in black,
But long letters cannot compare
To that precious presence we lack.
Wish that she would come back here.
Our little girl.
Our little girl.
Our little girl.
Wish the wizards hadn't whisked away our little girl!
Wish the wizards hadn't whisked away our little girl!
Well, our little girl
Was always a loner, but she's found some faithful chums.
Maybe we're greedy,
Maybe we're needy,
Thinkin' as we linger over patients' puffy gums
That we wish the wizards hadn't whisked away our little girl.
Wish the wizards hadn't whisked away our little girl!
Wish the wizards hadn't whisked away our little girl!
Wish the wizards hadn't whisked away our little girl!
Wish the wizards hadn't whisked away our little girl!
My Little Town
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