Author's Note: Just so you know, this story was originally partially written by Gwenhyfar1984. The original plot idea is her brain child, with a few of my own ideas thrown in some time later. I was her Beta author for the original story and after a time, she allowed me to have the story. I am extremely excited to change, update, and finish this story for her and the fans. Please let me know what you think of my efforts in the comment's section. After all, any comment is a good one.

The Scent Of Rain

Written by lookimacloud

Plotline by Gwenhwyfar1984

Chapter

Growing Pains

"Are you doing okay Harry? I know that was a lot harder on you than you are letting on." Hermione hugged her friend about the shoulders.

Harry shrugged at her question and nodded. Dumbledore's funeral had been hard on all of them. Everyone harassed Harry, and by default, she and Ron. They were pushed, they were questioned, they were feared. Poor Harry had just remained silent. This was the real test in humanity.

"Yeah I'm fine," Harry assured, "I just have to accept it you know? There's work to be done. You look stressed though 'Mione. What's on your mind?"

Hermione was in a daze of rapid thoughts. She herself was completely wrecked from the strenuous day. The reality of the Headmaster's death had not quite sunk in yet. "Nothing," she replied, an obvious lie. "I just think I need some time alone to figure things out. We need to find our next move in this game with Voldemort."

"Would you like some company?"

"No. I think it's just too noisy in here. If you or Ron need me, I'll be in the garden." She had a bench in the Weasley garden that she favored. Sometimes, when everyone played Quidditch, Hermione would sit on her bench soak up the atmosphere, and read a book.

"I'll let Ron know when I see him. Don't be out there too long okay? The Order will arrive at any moment."

"You don't need to remind me Harry." Hermione irritably informed. "I remember everything. It's my curse. I solve every problem, fix every mistake…make perfect marks." Exasperated with herself, and also just a bit peeved with Harry, Hermione flounced off to find her bench. It was the perfect place to go when she needed to think. Today was just one of those days.

It wasn't just the funeral that put Hermione on edge today. Everyone attended the funeral. Students, parents, old friends. Practically the entirety of wizards and witches had been there.

Death Eaters had even come to the funeral, in the disguise of a cordial friend. It took everything she and Ron had had to stop Harry from outright attacking those false mourners. After all, the three of them had no tangible proof that those wizards and witches were Death Eaters.

Despite the unwelcome company, the service had been nice, and you could tell that Dumbledore was loved.

What really bothered Hermione however, was that his death still didn't seem real, nor did the consequences of his death. Riots were already starting, students were already being taken out of the school by scared parents.

To keep herself grounded, Hermione focused on the facts. Dumbledore had died, and right about now, her own parents would be getting an owl informing them of that.

Her parents had always trusted her to be honest with them, and until the War started, she always had been. But now they knew she'd violated that trust.

Hermione stared her unfocused eyes toward a nearby tree, and came up with a course of action. She would go home tomorrow and have a nice long talk with her parents. She would explain that Dumbledore had died to protect them, but not go into detail about the horcruxes.

She would admit that there was a war going on, but that she was fully capable of handling herself in it… No, that she was not really a part of it and it didn't affect her… No, that she was a part of it, but that it was more of a political war.

Merlin, Hermione shook her head. However was she to get through this?

"Mind if I sit?"

Instantly shaken from her thoughts, Hermione looked up into the eyes of her best friend.

"Of course not."

She slid to one side of the bench, allowing enough room for the full grown boy to sit next to her. He sat and didn't say anything, but he handed her a speedwell. Smiling a small smile, Hermione twisted the slender weed between her fingers.

Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that her life as she knew it was in danger. Her parents had always been open minded. They hadn't even been scared of her preliminary powers before she'd gotten her letter, back when witches and wizards had been a fairy tale for them all. They were both level headed people who had understood once that letter came, that she was meant for more than the muggle world. But she could only expect so much from them.

"I can't…figure out how I'm going to talk to my parents, Ron."

Once she told them, they would try to force her out of this world forever. They would try to make her muggle in a vain effort to protect her, and she did not know what to do about it. Her parents had always treated her as if she were an adult. They had always accepted her opinions and ideas. She just wished that she were more confident in her ability to convince them that she knew what she was doing.

"What do you mean? Owls were sent out so they know about…"

Hermione sighed. "I mean, how I am going to tell them everything else. About the war and about Voldemort."

Ron flinched.

Hermione turned to look at him. "They don't know about the war remember? I put them off if they even mention going with me to get school supplies. I have kept everything from them."

"Well, just tell them the truth. There isn't much they can do as muggles."

"Yes they can Ron!" Exasperated, Hermione flung her arms in manic abandon. "They can make me give up magic and they can try and hide me!"

"No they can't. You're of age." Ron reasoned, running his hands through his hair.

Momentarily stunned by that reality, Hermione smiled a humorless smile. If only she could have avoided the conversation until she turned eighteen. As it was, being of age in the magical world, did not help her situation in the muggle world.

"To my parent's, I'm not Ronald. Not for another year. The legal age of adulthood in the muggle world is eighteen." She shook her head in defeat. "They will still see it as their duty to protect me. Yes, I could just run away if that happens. I mean, after all, they cannot find me here. But then I would lose them forever."

"No you wouldn't." Ron reasoned, "You could leave until you turn eighteen. That's three months. Then show up on their doorstep and they would welcome you, right?"

"Not exactly Ron. My parents are open-minded, but hard headed. I couldn't betray them after everything they have done for me. If they demand that I stay and I can't talk them out of it, then I will have to stay."

"But what will they do to you if you stay with them?" Ron asked. There was a slight panic note to the question.

Defeated, Hermione gave in to the depressing situation with a full bodied sigh. "They would probably confiscate my wand and books, take me out of Hogwarts, take me away to try and protect me. I would try to hide them from Death Eaters and sneak out maybe every now and then to help you and Harry. But out of respect for them, and their peace of mind, I can't just run off to this wonderful house, and beg your parents to take me in until the war is over."

"They wouldn't!"

"They would." She conceded. "Several parents are already taking their children out of Hogwarts with Dumbledore's death."

"Then we have to do something about it." Ron sat up straight.

"Like what? I have been trying to come up with a way out since before the funeral. The only thing I can think of, is trying to talk them around; and I don't see that happening. Even if I stay with them until I turn eighteen, I couldn't throw it in their face that I am coming back here. I would need a compelling reason, more than a war they don't want me fighting in. If I had relatives here or something, you know? But I am the first witch born in my family. What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know right now." Ron put his arm around her shoulders. "But we will think of something."

Hermione accepted the comfort and stared down at her makeshift flower.

oooooooooo

Hermione stepped out of the Ministry car and turned to wave goodbye to the Weasleys, her troubled eyes held Ron's for a moment longer as she watched the car disappear down the street.

Entering her parent's home, warm chocolate and freshly baked bread filled her senses… False comfort to replace Hermione's anxiety. Mom had made her favorites. Hermione took off her wool overlay and hanged it on the coat hook, jostling the sand when her mother gripped her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Are you alright Hermione?"

"I'm fine mum." Hermione answered in a flat voice. Her mom looked worried, her dad's face was unreadable. "I'm going to go put my trunk away, then we need to talk. Okay?"

Her mom looked to her dad, then nodded.

Hermione trudged down the hall, dragging her trunk behind her. She didn't think it would be a smart move to levitate it, even up the stairs. Usually her dad would help her carry it since in the past she couldn't use magic outside school. He would joke that it weighed more than she did, and she would joke that it had to because it carried her whole world. Today was different. Her dad stood watching her, as though he had already made the decision regarding her stay.

Hermione placed her trunk at the foot of her childhood bed, and let Crookshanks out of his carrier. How was she going to do this? How was she ever going to explain everything in a way to make them understand? She took a breath, steeled herself, and went downstairs.

When she got to the common room, it was to find her parents already sitting on the sofa waiting for her. She looked at them, and sat in an opposite chair.

"Tell us about the death of Professor Dumbledore." Her father demanded. "I get the feeling that we do not know the whole story."

"No, you don't, but I think it is time you did know everything." Hermione took a deep breath and began, "You know all the strange things that have been going on? Well it is because of…because there is a war going on in the wizard world. It's a very bad war that I am involved in."

"What?" her mother exclaimed, "You're involved in…how? You've been in school!"

"It started about sixteen years ago when Lord Voldemort tried to kill Harry."

"When who tried to kill Harry? Your friend Harry?"

Her mother was on a roll. Hermione fidgeted in her chair, glanced at her father's eyes as they narrowed, and continued.

"Voldemort, is the most evil wizard alive. I can't get into all of that, but that is the gist of it."

"Well you'd better 'get into all of that' young lady." Her mother fumed.

"I can't." Hermione continued. "I can't betray Harry's trust." She figured that bit would stay the questions on her mother's face. She was wrong.

"You can't betray Harry's trust, but you couldn't even write to tell us about something this serious?"

"Voldemort wasn't around when I first started school," Hermione explained, "The war had been over for eleven years at that time. I went to school as usual. The magical world didn't even know that Voldemort was alive until last year," she fudged. There was no reason to upset her parents more by letting them know that Harry had fought him first year. It was best to speak of things in general terms.

"This has been going on for a whole year and you never told us?"

"And you are involved because of Harry?" Her father added, clearly trying to wrap his mind around everything.

"Yes, I am. I fought a battle at the Ministry of Magic last year. And I have sworn to be alongside Harry in whatever he does. That is why…why I have to leave. I have a wedding to attend and then…then I'm going with Harry and Ron. I'll probably be gone for a long time."

Her parents stared at Hermione as if she were a different person. In a way she supposed she was. She was not just the bookworm girl they had raised. She hadn't been for a long time. Hermione just wished there were an easier way for them to accept her.

Her mother finally found her voice. "No! You're not going anywhere! Not to a wedding, or back to that school, or anywhere near any…magical person, again."

Hermione took a breath. "But I am a magical person. And taking me away from it will not help. I am already in danger just because I am one of Harry's best friends. Hiding me won't help. Voldemort is too smart for that. The only way for things to change, is for me to help Harry." She took another breath. "And I am going to do it no matter what you say. I made a vow to him."

Her parents gaped at her. She had never before openly defied them. At this, her father stood and headed up the stairs. Hermione ran after him, followed closely by her mother.

Her father stormed into her room and grabbed her trunk, beginning to drag it out.

"What are you doing?" Hermione cried.

"Taking this, your 'world' as you call it. You can't leave without your magic stuff can you?" Her trunk left crude grooves in the otherwise perfect carpeting, as her father dragged it behind him.

Her mother nodded in approval.

"You can't do this. You can't understand what this means…" Hermione turned to her mother. In a fit of desperation, she cried, "Mum if you do this then you are taking my fiancé away from me too. Please don't do that." She pled in her most sincere voice, trying to keep the anger at bay.

Surprised, her mom stared at her as though she didn't recognize her. "What we understand, is that we are your parents, and it is our job to keep you safe. If that means cutting you off from the magical world and a fiancé that you also didn't tell us about, then so be it."

Her mother left the room, closing the door behind her.

Author's Note: Well that was a bit depressing Hermione. I really hope you get over this funk soon.

Dear Readers: I will send a sneak peek of the next chapter to you if you leave a signed comment.