AA for wizards was like AA for muggles with one slight difference. Most wizards were followers of the pre-Christian religions so their twelve steps inserted the word "Gods" instead of God. Other than that, it was just about the same. Also, every meeting began with a group prayer to Apollo, the god of healing. Hermione didn't believe in God or Gods. She'd seen too many horrors and had become cynical.

"So you practice magic, but don't believe in God?" Her mum had rather skeptically asked her one time.

"Yes." Hermione had replied before rolling over to sleep in yet another Sunday. However, she went along with the prayer to Apollo. For "power greater than herself" she clung to some vague notion of a higher self. Being a semi-atheist at AA was hard, but she'd been sober for six months so she presumed that it was working.

At this AA meeting they were all discussing the twelve steps.

"Then I told mother how sorry I was for how I had treated her, that even though it was because of the alcohol there was no excuse for it. I felt better afterwards." John, the fellow that sat next to her explained. Step eight of the twelve steps was making amends to people you'd hurt while going through addiction. Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She had gotten stuck on step four. She'd made a fearless moral inventory. She hadn't liked what she'd seen and had decided to change. She didn't know if she could go farther than that. During her hermit days she hadn't hurt many people, but she had hurt her mother. She had driven home drunk one night, a few months after the war's end. Her mother had tried to take away her car keys. Hermione now saw that her mother had made the right decision in the attempt. She had been embracing a more and more self-destructive lifestyle. At the time, however, she had raged and screamed and finally struck her mother in the face before storming out with the keys. Her own mother! Hermione still felt shame at the thought of it. She hadn't seen her parents in ages and conversation with them was strained. After the meeting was over she made a decision. She was going to visit her parents. Ron was waiting for her as he always was. She took his hand. They had been sleeping together and not just for sex. They both still had nightmares and each other's presence was a comfort during those times. The first time Ron had slept over he'd had a nightmare. He had woken up screaming and she'd held him close till he'd gone back to sleep. They'd never spoken of the incident, but he seemed to need her as much as she needed him.

"So, how was the meeting?" He asked.

"It was…some times are harder than other times. Ron, have you ever done something really, really stupid?"
Ron stared at her. "Hermione, you've known me since I was eleven. You've been there when I've done stupid, stupid things."

"I mean, like, let's say hitting your mum?"

Ron started laughing. "Never! I'd be too scared too."

"I hit my mum." Hermione admitted. "I was drunk and we were arguing and well…I'm pretty sure I destroyed our relationship."

"Have you ever talked about it with her?" Ron asked.

Hermione shook her head. "We've talked, but it's always so strained. I want to visit her tomorrow."

"Do you want me to come along? Just for support?"
Hermione shook her head. "Remember the first time you visited your brother's grave and you had to do it alone? Well, this is something I have to do alone."

Ron nodded. "I understand."

…

The next day Hermione went to her parent's house for the first time in almost two years. That's how long it'd been since she'd spoken to her parents face-to-face. She nervously knocked on the door. Her dad answered.

"Hermione! It's been ages!" He swooped her up into a bear hug. She hugged back. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you and Mum."
"Come sit down." Her dad said. They sat down.

"Harold, who's at the door-Hermy!" Her mum greeted her by the nickname only her parents used. It was oddly comforting to hear it. "Hermy, it's been so long! How are you?" She went and sat down next to her daughter.

"I've been getting better. Really, I am. I mean, I'm sober now."
"Thank God!" Her mother exclaimed as she embraced her prodigal daughter. "I know I haven't called in a long time, I'm sorry for that. I just got discouraged because you started hanging up and wouldn't talk."

"I'm sorry too, Mum. That's what I wanted to talk about. When I was drinking I behaved in ways that were irresponsible and inexcusable. Like the time I hit you for instance."
"Oh that? That was nothing." Mrs. Granger said. "Forget about it."
"No, it wasn't nothing. It was wrong. Please forgive me."

Mrs. Granger hugged her so tight that Hermione thought she'd never let go. She buried her face in her mother's hair and hugged her.

"Of course I forgive you, my darling child." She said softly.

"I was tortured." Hermione admitted weakly.

"What?" Her mother asked.

Hermione had never said those words to her parents. She tried to keep her muggle and wizard lives separate. The strain of balancing the two had led her to a full-on breakdown.

"During the war I was captured, a curse was used to torture me repeatedly; a slur was carved into my arm." She pulled away from her mother's embrace, as comfortable as it was, to get her wand from within her robes. She then used it to remove the glamour she put on every day. Even Ron almost never saw her without it. Her parents gasped in shock as they saw her scarred arm and neck.

"I needed to tell you." Hermione said. She was surprised that she wasn't crying. Maybe she was beyond that now. "This is why I drank a year away. I drank to kill the memories."

She saw the numb look of horror on her parent's face, the inability of a person who'd never seen war to understand a veteran's trauma. She found herself suddenly wrapped up in her parent's embrace. She didn't want them to let her go and they didn't for a long time. Her mum asked her to stay for supper and she did gladly. She even volunteered to help her mum cook, even though she really wasn't much help in a kitchen. Her mum told her to fix a salad while her mum worked on making a chicken.

"Hermy, can I ask you something?"
"Anything." Hermione said as she cut up a cucumber.

Her mum hesitated. "Why did you fight for that world? I don't mean to sound awful, but you could've just walked away. It wasn't really your fight."
"It was my fight, Mum. The old bastard was rounding up my kind."
"You could've walked away. You could have come here."
Hermione shook her head. "No, I couldn't have."
"But you suffered so much…"

"It was worth it, Mum. It was worth it."
"You know, you…you have a home here. I mean…"

Hermione knew where the conversation was going. "You want me to move back in."
"You'll always have a home here. That's all I'm saying."

"I know, Mum." Hermione said. The thought had crossed her mind before.

"Sometimes I feel like we barely know each other." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you all this."
"It's alright." Hermione said. "I wasn't around for much of my adolescence."
"Why was that? You spent most of your time there, you fought a war there. It's almost like you consider that place your home."
"I do." Hermione said.

Mrs. Granger was silent as she put the chicken in the oven. "Why did you spend so much time there?"

"I had friends there, people who cared about me for the first time in my life."
"Didn't we care about you?"
Hermione bit her lip. "Sure you did."

"You sound like you don't believe it."

"I know you cared now, looking back. But…I didn't have a childhood. Hell, I didn't need one. Maybe it would have been nice though. You made me spend all my time studying. I had thirty minutes to play with my friends-and you took that away if I made less than a perfect grade. Eventually, my friends stopped wanting to play with me. I was the boring kid."

"You didn't need them! I might have been harsh, but…" She was about to say 'look where you are now", but then she realized her daughter was a barely recovered alcoholic. "Oh God…I didn't…I didn't realize…I'm sorry."
Hermione was certain she had misheard what her mum had said. "What did you say?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize what I put you through. I just wanted what was best for you. What I thought was best."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She hadn't expected an apology. In fact, she had come to apologize.

"It doesn't matter anymore." Hermione admitted.

"Yes, it does. I know we fought a lot back then when you were a kid. You must have hated me, but that doesn't mean we can't have a relationship now. Will you please just promise to visit more at the very least?"
Hermione smiled. "Sure. I think I can do that. I want to move on from the past anyway."

They laughed and talked about old times during supper. Ron's name popped up frequently and her parents soon figured out they were more than just good friends. Hermione promised to bring him along for the next visit.

Before she left Hermione's parents hugged her one last time. Hermione decided she hadn't been hugged so often by her parents since she was four and fell out of a tree. She found she liked it though.

"I'll visit again soon. I promise." Hermione said. "I love you."
"We love you too Hermy." Her mum said. Hermione walked away, then apparated back to her apartment. She sat down and realized she needed a drink. She hadn't needed a drink so bad in months. The old demons were back and clawing at her again. It was being in that house that had felt like a prison to her for eleven years. Hogwarts had been her way out of being dominated by a controlling mother who was aided by an enabling father. Of course, both her parents loved her. She knew that. But she had had good reasons for avoiding visiting home when she'd been going to Hogwarts. She hadn't admitted it of course, but she knew the truth. She sat down on the couch. She wasn't going to throw away six months of sobriety. This would pass. She clenched her fist, then drew her wand to cast an anti-addiction charm. Most wizards considered it an unhealthy crutch, but she needed it. She relaxed as the charm began to take effect. It should last for around twenty-four hours at which point she would be able to regain control of herself. Luckily, there wasn't a drop of alcohol in her home. She relaxed on the couch. She'd done it. She'd completed step four and made amends with someone she'd hurt. She'd actually started to work on her relationship with her mum. There was light at the end of the tunnel.