A small explanation...

One thing that I wondered about Deathly Hallows was how Hermione had got her parents off to Australia, especially as I didn't think her parents would be overly understanding about the idea. So to me there were three ways she could have gone about it, the first being telling them the plan and them being okay with it, which I've already said I don't believe, the second where she told them the plan, they didn't like it but she went ahead and did it anyway, and the last where she didn't tell them anything and just hexed them out of the blue one day.

I'm leaning towards the idea that she told them, they didn't like it but she went ahead anyway because she knew there was no other way to keep them safe. From that thought came this plot bunny and it was another reason to write Hermione and her dad which I love doing :D I'll shut up now. If you could read and review it would be much appreciated! Ta muchly.

They had been home for an hour now, and she still had to have a proper conversation with either her mum or her dad.

She hated the silence but she expected it. They were angry with her and she knew it, she just hoped that they would come to understand why she did it. Why she needed to keep them safe.

Her mum was upstairs unpacking the few boxes and suitcases they had with them. The rest of their possessions were in storage and Hermione had arranged for them to arrive later that afternoon. Maybe that would give her parents something to talk to her about.

Then again, maybe not.

Her mum had clung on to her when she had briefly explained that it was all over, had told them that she, Ron and Harry had done what they intended to do and they were unharmed. Her dad had given her a brief hug but had quickly become distant.

'We told you we didn't want to be separated from you. We wanted to stay at home!'

She had hated going against their wishes, doing the one thing they had asked her not to, but she'd had no choice, she would never have forgiven herself if anything had happened to them purely for the reason they were Hermione Granger's parents.

She knew they would always love her, and, if it came down to it, she could live with them not liking her, but she knew but she couldn't live with them not being in her life at all.

She had never known her house to be so quiet. Regardless of the level of conversation there had always been some music on, the radio chattering away or the television on as background noise. But the television was in storage, along with the music system and even the small kitchen radio had yet to return to its usual spot next to the microwave. Another thing absent from the kitchen.

She hadn't, of course, brought them back to a house that was completely empty. The cupboards were stocked with food, their living room had their comfortable three-piece suite back along with the fireplace and the bedrooms had their beds, mattresses and some of their clothes in the wardrobes.

But it still wasn't exactly 'home'.

Hermione had retreated to her room after the third time her dad had purposely avoided looking at her. But she was pacing her up and down, wanting, needing, to resolve thing with him.

Maybe she couldn't live with him not liking her after all.

Her pacing was getting her nowhere, both literally and figuratively, so she decided to do something that would give her some sort of distraction for a few minutes: make herself, and her Dad, a cup of tea.

She had determined from the lack of movement in the house that her dad was in his study. She was glad she had had his desk and chair brought out of storage with the other 'essential' items for the house. If her dad didn't have his study to retire to, things would have been worse. That was one thing she was certain of.

The kettle boiled and clicked off, and she poured the hot water onto her dad's loose tea leaves and her tea bag. She had thought about making the tea with magic, but her dad swore that it just wasn't the same than when it was brewed in the 'normal' way. She added the milk and finally a teaspoon of sugar for her dad and instantly smiled.

The memory of the day she caught him putting sugar in his tea filled her mind's eye. He had asked that she keep it a secret from mum and it was then she realised why her dad always offered to make the tea.

She came face to face with the door of his study and rolled her eyes, her hands held a mug of tea each and the only way to knock on the door was to kick it, something her dad didn't really appreciate. Knowing she would probably spill the tea if she tried to put one or both on the floor, she lightly tapped the door with her trainer covered foot hoping it wouldn't sound like she was kicking the door.

Nope, definitely sounded like kicking.

'Come in.'

Hermione sighed, hoping the door kicking had either been ignored or unnoticed. She leant her elbow on the door handle and the door opened.

She backed into the room and slowly turned around.

'I made you some tea,' she said to the room.

Her dad was staring out of the window, his arms folded but with his right hand free. His glasses were in his hand and he was chewing on the end of them.

'Thank you,' he replied without turning around.

Hermione walked forwards to his desk and put his mug down on the coaster.

'I er…' she paused, waiting to see if he would turn around at her voice, he didn't. 'I remembered to put some sugar in for you.'

She took a sip from her mug and stared into the swirling liquid, wondering if the answer to her problem was in there.

'You know,' her dad said before sighing, 'when I was Wendell Wilkins I didn't take sugar in my tea, at all. Obviously you didn't managed to wipe that from my memory even though you managed everything else.'

Hermione closed her eyes. She supposed this was one step up from total silence, but it didn't feel any better.

'Dad, I— I've tried to explain why I did it all. I told you before I did it, that I didn't think there was any other way to keep you safe and away from the Death Eaters and Voldemort. I needed to protect you and keep you away from the torturers and the murderers.'

She took a deep breath, actually finding it easier to say these things because her dad wasn't looking at her.

'Dad, if there was one thing that I hated doing, that I still feel guilty about now, it's that I went against your word, and I'm so sorry for doing it, but I couldn't live with knowing that you had been killed because of me. I'm sorry if that sounds selfish, it is! And it was also selfish that I didn't have to worry about you when I was with Ron and Harry, but I won't apologise for keeping my mum and dad safe and alive!'

Her dad was still staring out the window and she knew he still wasn't ready to talk to her properly.

She walked out of the room and, careful not to spill her tea, made her way back up to her bedroom.

…

She had heard the doorbell ring, but as it had already rang three times that day she wasn't that surprised. They'd had both next-door neighbours come round and ask whether the 'family crisis Down Under' was sorted and if they were now back for good. Her mum had managed to seem like she was telling them lots of information but really was just repeating what they had been told almost a year ago.

So when her mum called her name up the stairs she jumped off her bed with a start and quickly made her way down the stairs.

'Mister Weasley! What are you doing here? What's happened, is everyone all right? Ron?'

Arthur held his hands up to quieten Hermione.

'Hermione, everyone is fine, nothing has happened to give you concern. I'm afraid it is you who is causing concern at the minute.'

'But why? I—'

Her eyes widened and she frantically looked at the time on her watch.

'I missed my check in! Oh, I'm so sorry, I lost track of time.'

Arthur smiled kindly.

'It's no problem, Hermione. We just had to make sure you and your parents were okay. You are okay, I take it?'

Her mum had disappeared upstairs to the bedroom and, whether by coincidence or not, her dad had just closed the door rather loudly. Hermione sighed.

'Yes, we're fine.'

Arthur raised his eyebrows.

'I'd believe you, but…well, I don't!'

Hermione smiled.

'Things are a bit…strange at the minute, but things will be fine soon. We just have to…readjust.'

Arthur nodded.

'Of course.'

They stood in silence for a minute, Arthur couldn't help but look around him at the few things that were back in their rightful home in the hallway.

'Well, I shall leave you to…readjusting, Hermione. If there's anything at all you need or that you want help with, you know you can always ask. I imagine things will be a little strange for a while, but you and your parents will always be welcome at The Burrow, you know that. Okay?'

Hermione nodded.

'Thanks, Mister Weasley. I'll make sure I don't miss my next check in time. Do you mind if I come over to see Ron and Harry tomorrow?'

Arthur chuckled.

'Hermione, I just said you were welcome to The Burrow at any time and I meant it. I know Ron's missing you, so if you could do something to put my youngest son in a slightly better mood, I would appreciate it.'

Hermione found herself blushing slightly.

'Well, if you could tell him…tell him I miss him too.'

Arthur smiled and walked towards the door.

'I shall see you soon, Hermione. Stay safe.'

'See you later, Mister Weasley.'

She shut the door and made her way back up the stairs.

'Is Arthur all right, Hermione?' her mum asked as she walked through the house to the lounge.

Hermione stopped her ascent of the stairs and took a couple of steps back down so she could see her mum.

'Yes, he's fine. I missed letting the Order know we're still okay, so he came around to check.'

'Ah, I see.'

Her mum walked into the lounge and Hermione made her way into her bedroom.

She half believed her own words to Arthur, she did think things would get better, eventually, but she had a feeling things had to get a lot worse before they did.

…

A few days passed in the same way they had previously, but with one change. Her parents were back at work leaving Hermione to spend most of her days at The Burrow with Ron, Harry, Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys. She tried to be her usual self whilst there, but at times she would sink into her thoughts and it would take Ron putting his arm around her shoulders or giving her a hug to bring her out of them.

'They'll come round, I know they will.'

However many times he said those words to her, she only half believed them. She had never gone this long without having a proper conversation with her dad. As much as she tried to not let it get to her, it did, and the longer it went on, the more it upset her.

A week after she had missed her check in with the Order she was about to go to bed when she passed her dad's study while on her way to the kitchen.

She heard the door click open but, not wanting to cause any awkwardness, carried on towards the kitchen in pursuit of her nightly glass of water.

'Hermione.'

She stopped and turned to look back at the door. Her dad wasn't visible through the small gap the door had been opened so she just looked at the solid oak door.

'Would you mind if I spoke to you for a minute?'

She daren't get her hopes up that this meant her dad wanted to talk things through with her, but this had to mean something, didn't it?

She walked to the door and entered the study.

'Yes, I mean, no, of course not.'

She stayed standing, and hated the fact that she felt about six years old, waiting for the 'I'm very disappointed in you' lecture from her Daddy. Granted it had only happened twice in her childhood, but she still didn't like the sense of foreboding.

'Arthur came to see me at work today.'

'He what? Is everything all right? Nothing's wrong, is there, Dad?'

'Everything's fine, Hermione. Well, actually, everything's not fine, is it?'

'I—'

'Apparently, my only daughter is rather upset and, as much as she tries to hide it from her friends, she isn't very good at it. She hates the fact that her dad isn't talking to her, even though she knew it was a possibility after she went against his and her mother's will, and she has absolutely no idea how to make things better at home, so much so she's thinking that leaving is the only way to make it better for her mum and dad.'

Tears burned in Hermione's eyes but for the minute she ignored them, she was confused and didn't understand something.

'How did…how did Arthur know all that?'

'Ron told him. He knew he was risking…how did Arthur put it? Was risking a hexing from hell if he did, but Ronald thought it was worth it if his dad could talk Mister Granger round.'

Of course it had been Ron, she hadn't told anyone else all her dad had repeated back to her, and yes, he had risked a hexing from hell but she couldn't help but give a little smile at him, yet again trying to help and protect her.

'So, is he in for a hexing from hell?'

'I haven't decided yet.'

She thought she saw her dad smile, but it disappeared too quickly for her to be certain.

Her dad moved from in front of his bookcase to behind his desk, Hermione stayed where she was, still feeling like a small child waiting for a severe telling off.

'Are you really thinking of leaving?'

Hermione looked at the floor.

'I thought it would be best for you and mum, there's a constant tension in the house and everyone's just miserable. What I did is the reason, so if I go, you and mum will be able to get on with things like normal.'

'Normal? You think we'd be able to get on with things like normal if you left home under these circumstances?'

'I…well, no, but something has got to change, Dad. In all fairness, it…it was probably going to happen soon anyway what with us having to decide what we want to do now. But…'

'But you thought you'd have a bit longer with your mum and dad before you did.'

Hermione nodded.

'Look, Dad, I understand—'

'Hermione, you don't understand, you can't understand, not yet, anyway. I'll tell you why I'm angry, why I said no to the plan in the first place. I understood that you wanted us to be safe, but you…you stopped me from doing the one thing I promised you I would do, the day you were born. It's something every parent promises their children, that they will protect them in every way they can until the very end. Not only did you stop me from doing that, Hermione, you made me forget I had a daughter.'

Hermione looked up at him,

'Dad, I had to.'

'No you didn't! You could have…I don't know…changed our memories so that we thought we were different people but at least know we had you!'

'No, Dad, that wouldn't have worked. I couldn't let you keep certain memories of me and not others. You couldn't have remembered that I was magical, which meant taking the last six years away from your memory, how could I have you thinking you had an eleven year old daughter who didn't come to Australia with you when you emigrated? I don't think I need to explain what the alternative would have been, do I?'

Her dad glanced at her and then looked away quickly.

'Apart from that, I couldn't have you remembering anything about me. If they'd tracked you down and realised you still had some sort of memory of me then they would have tortured you until you either said something they thought was worthwhile or they'd have just killed you for the hell of it, because that's the type of people they are…were, well…are.'

'But…I remember you once saying that memory charms could be broken, if that's true then we were never safe, you may as well have just left us here like we asked you to!'

Hermione sighed.

'The protection was never one hundred percent perfect, Dad, it had it's flaws but I was relying on the fact that if they did come calling here, then they'd see we'd left so I wouldn't be with Harry and, therefore, not worth pursuing. They probably would have come to find me eventually had things not gone well, but, luckily they did, well, to an extent anyway.

'They brought a law in, while they were in power, that meant every witch and wizard had to be given blood status, if you could prove that you had magical ancestors then you were free to go about your business as usual, but if you couldn't, then you were sent to Azkaban as punishment for stealing magic.'

'Stealing magic? Is that even possible.'

'No, of course not, it was just a way of getting Muggleborns out of Wizarding community.'

'Is that really what they did?'

'That was just the beginning.'

'If I ask you to tell me what happened to you over the past year, would you tell me?'

Hermione looked at her dad and he met her eyes.

'What good would it do if you knew?'

'None I suppose.'

'I'm not going to give you reasons to get angry with yourself, or me, Dad.'

'Ron hasn't told Arthur either, apparently.'

Hermione nodded.

'We didn't think there was any reason to tell anyone.'

'Hermione, will you promise me one thing?'

'What?'

'If you start having nightmares or, flashbacks or anything like that, will you talk to someone about what you went through, please?'

'If it happens, I will, I promise.'

'Thank you.'

They stood in silence, not knowing what to say to the other. After a minute her dad moved around the desk and towards Hermione.

'Do you want to know why I'm angry, Hermione?'

'Because I knew you didn't want me to go ahead with the plan but I did it anyway.'

'That's only a small part of it. I'm annoyed because of that, I admit, but I'm also annoyed because you had to protect your parents when it's our job to protect you, I'm also annoyed because you had to live on the run for a year, avoiding torture, prison and death while you did, and I'm annoyed because you were in a situation you wouldn't have been in had I listened to my gut reaction about sending you to Hogwarts. If you hadn't gone, none of this would have happened.'

Hermione went to argue but her dad carried on speaking.

'But, the main reason I'm annoyed…is because no matter how many ways I think about it, I have to admit to myself that I'd've done the same damn thing. You've grown up Hermione, you're thinking in the exact same way I expect myself to, and that mean you won't need your old dad anymore soon to ask advice from.'

Tears fell from Hermione's eyes and she couldn't help it, she ran to her dad and hugged him.

She had always hugged her dad, always gone to him when she had fallen over and hurt herself and he had always made it better. He had hugged her and her tears had dried, her pain had faded and she knew things were going to be okay. She hadn't hugged her dad in over a year, and she didn't feel like letting go for a long time.

'I'm s…sorry, Dad!'

'I know, Hermione, you did what you had to, I understand, I do. You don't need to be sorry anymore.'

'I'll-I'll always n…need you! You're my…my Dad!'

'I promise you I will always be here when you need me, Hermione, whether you like it or not!'

She chuckled and pulled back. Her dad wiped her tears from her cheeks and handed her a tissue.

'Thanks.'

'So, we'll have no more talk of moving out until you're ready to do so for normal, grown up reasons, all right?'

Hermione smiled and nodded.

'And if I may suggest that Ron doesn't really deserve a hexing?'

Hermione laughed.

'Well, no, maybe he doesn't, still, it might be fun to have him believe he's in for one. That's an opportunity too good to miss.'

She watched as her dad laughed out loud and knew everything was going to be all right.

'That's my girl!'