Sorry I skipped about four monthes, but it would have been repetive if I kept writing about Hermione going to Hogwarts. Anyway in the first monthes of their second year, you know what's happening, with the Chamber of Secrets and them suspecting Draco and the polyjuice potion

Chapter 10

Hermione was growing up. I knew she was, but I didn't expect it so fast. When she left on the Hogwarts express, I could not see the fear and nerves she had a year ago but excitement as she climbed onto the Hogwarts Express. I could see it in her letters as her writing style grew more mature and descriptive, but also vaguer. I could see it on her appearance as her frizz began to get straighter and she grew taller.

When I say she got vaguer, I meant her letters got shorter and shorter, and they mainly focused on my life, not hers. I would ask her devoted questions, and get small answers, with no details.

But I ignored this, and still began to plan the perfect Christmas, to remind Hermione that the muggle life was just as good as her extraordinary wizard one. I only got one letter from her in November, and it didn't even confirm the fact she was coming back. But still, I continued making plans.

In the last week before she was due to come back, annoyed at the lack of response from her, I sent her a note "What day are you coming back, darling?"

On the last day of term, the day was tense in the household. Still no response from Hermione, and David was annoying me with every little thing. As the sun went down, I watched it with unblinking, blank eyes. David watched me, with an expression of pity on his face.

You could see normal muggle children running out and taking advantage of the snow that was slightly falling. They would try and catch it with their tongues, dance around and hug each other. I pulled the curtains shut sharply.

"Do you think she's coming David?" I asked my voice barely bigger than a whisper. David looked down, and then he said" I'm sorry Susan, but no-"His voice cracked on the no.

We stayed up anyway, cuddled on the sofa, looking up at every creak, craning our neck for the sign of an owl confirming that she was coming. We fell asleep in each other's arms, both of us dreaming of our daughter, who had changed so much.

The shrieks from other children woke us in the morning. They were having fun in the snow, which had settled on the night, and left a sea of snow on the road. Discovering that we had awoken late, it seemed we both had been plagued with a rough sleep.

"Susan, there's an owl!" David said on one breath, as he peered out the window. I jumped up, and sure enough, a tawny owl was patiently perched on our fence, and was carrying an envelope that had Hermione's elegant script labelled on it.

David didn't bother with a coat, or shoes; he just rushed out and grabbed the letter. I followed behind him, and sharply pulled it out of his hands.

"She's my daughter too!" He hissed.

"Sorry!" I murmured, "Come on, let's open it."

I was hoping for a letter explaining her lateness, the express was held up, she was coming in a few days. Just anything so I could spend just one Christmas with her.

Mum and Dad,

So how are you? Listen, I'm sorry I couldn't get back to you sooner, it's been crazy here. But I can't come back for Christmas. Sure I would love to, but the thing is, Hogwarts has changed. There is this mystery going on at the moment, kind of hard to explain, but Harry, Ron and I know something, and we are the only people who can do something. That sounds a little melodramatic, but I'm sorry mummy. I know how much you love Christmas with the family. It's just if I left now, the whole potion would have to be another month, and the longer we wait, the less information we are going to get.

I'm so sorry. I'll send your presents closer to Christmas.

Merry Christmas

Love Hermione xxx

I read it, and then scanned it again to check it was real. From my daughter. My daughter, giving up the Christmas tradition we have always done, to solve a Hogwarts mystery. This wasn't Hermione.

David drooped too. He kept muttering "I think it should be mandatory for students to come home at Christmas" and "What kind of mystery does a school have?"

Needless to say, the Christmas wasn't the best. It seemed empty with just the two of us, surrounded by presents, the turkey only half eaten. I vowed to myself while I lay in bed that night, after a wasted Christmas, to make next year's better, as this year had been the worst.

The visit the next day proved this.

Wow, it seems all I ever do on this story is apologise for this lateness and shortness. Sorry 'bout that. Life's been crazy with friends, school and holidays and stuff. I aim to finish this before my birthday but I don't see much chance of that happening. It's just this story has moved way down on my list of priorities.