When Hermione arrived at her parents' home in Nottingham, she wondered briefly if she should have called first. Then she remembered that her mother did not stick around when Hermione called and was glad she hadn't. It was Saturday, so the clinic was closed, and Hermione knew her mum would be reading her Journal of Endodontics with a mug of chicory root coffee in place of actual coffee because coffee was far too caffeinated in her opinion, thank you very much!
Hermione rang the bell quickly before she could lose her nerve.
When her father opened the door a half-minute later, his shock was apparent. He didn't greet her so much as stare. She'd not returned home without warning since before, well, everything.
"Is Mum inside?" Hermione asked softly as to not give her mum reason to run out the back door and hop the fence into the neighbors' garden.
Hermione watched as her father's face softened in understanding. Wrinkles carved into his face and made him look old. He looked tired, but he smiled. "In the study, Love."
She followed him inside, leaving her shoes on despite house rules. It was a habit of hers. Always be ready to run. Her father turned into the kitchen, letting Hermione find her way to the study. There she found her mother, Helena Granger sat on the floor and hunched over the coffee table rather than her perfectly good desk.
Hermione knocked on the door jamb and her mother looked up, no doubt expecting to see Hermione's father. Hermione saw it then, as the surprise abated – the hurt and anger and betrayal.
"Can I sit with you?" Hermione asked. Helena didn't respond, so Hermione simply moved to sit across from her. "I'm sorry, Mum."
"So you've said," her mother responded, turning her face back down towards her journal.
"This is different."
"How so?" She still wouldn't look at her.
Hermione reached across the table and touched her arm. "I'm sorry I didn't come to you for help when I knew there was no avoiding the war – when I knew I'd have to leave."
Helena's hand clenched into a fist underneath hers and Hermione could see her mother clenching her jaw. Hermione thought she might be holding back tears, but she couldn't be certain with her own tears blurring out her vision.
"I was an adult in the wizarding world, but I didn't stop to consider that I was still your child – that I could still rely on you and Dad."
"We were so worried about you, Hermione. Every day since you went to that school, we were worried. You were so far away, and all we wanted to do was protect you, to listen to you tell us about your day, or to help you with your homework like we used to."
"I know, mum. I know that."
Mrs. Granger grabbed Hermione's hand suddenly. "Then why? Why did you not believe that your father and I would do anything – anything – to protect you? Why did you erase our memories? In what world would living without our child be better than dying, Hermione?"
Hermione tried to respond, but she was crying so heavily that all she could manage was deep and unsteady breaths.
"You might have taken our memory of you from us, but the heart doesn't forget. When Monica Wilkins saw a mother with her child, she knew that she was missing something. She looked for something that wasn't there."
"I wanted to – to protect you," Hermione stuttered out. "I knew you couldn't fight against magic, and I – I knew I couldn't fight if somehow they got to you. I'm so sorry, Mum."
Helena suddenly let go of her and left the table, and Hermione was sure she'd screwed things up. She'd been certain she'd understood her mother after speaking to Draco, but she'd clearly not figured out how to make amends. It took everything in her not to make a sound as she cried – not to curl in on herself apparate straight home where she could lie in bed with all the lights turned off and ignore her responsibilities until Monday morning.
Then her mother was kneeling beside her. In her fists was a hankie Hermione had sloppily embroidered for her in a home economics class when she was small. Hermione thought for a moment that her mum was offering it to her, but then the rough cotton was wiping softly across her face. Her mother wiped her tears and snot and then folded the hankie and wipe again until Hermione finally stopped crying.
The two women sat still, looking at one another for the first time in a long time. Eventually, Hermione's father came in with a tea tray and set it on the table. Instead of sitting on the other side of the table, he squeezed into the space beside his wife and daughter. They jostled shoulders as they made up their teas. Despite how much tea she'd had at Draco's home, she made up a good cup. Nothing soothed the soul better than a cup of tea and a good cry, her mum had told her when she was little.
Slowly they began to talk, sharing little bits of their life. Her parents had been glad to learn that she was still close to Harry, and they told her to carry their congratulations to him. She shared bits and pieces about her work, and they did the same. Hermione was surprised to learn that her parents had hired on new dentists and were in the process of deciding if they should sell the practice or keep it running for a passive income.
It was then that Hermione realized it wasn't only her father who had aged – it was her mother, too. They looked older than they were, and although Hermione had never imagined her parents the type that would retire early, she could tell it was what they needed.
It was dark out by the time Hermione finally decided it was time for her to go. She had stayed through dinner and had talked with her parents about things she didn't even know she'd wanted to tell them. At the door, Helena hesitated a moment before pulling her in for a hug.
"Next time you come we'll get Indian food from that place two blocks down, hmm?"
Hermione nodded and then hugged her father goodbye as well. Hermione lingered on the porch awkwardly for a moment, afraid that if she left everything would go back to the way it had been before.
Hermione suspected her mum had felt the same way because she called Hermione a couple of days later to schedule their Indian food night. They ended up agreeing to meet at the Granger house on Friday evening while Mr. Granger went out to the pub with some friends and colleagues.
When Hermione arrived at the house, her favorite saag paneer was on the table with a big container of rice and another container of whatever her mum was trying out this time.
They had an awkward start of it. This was unsurprising as they'd both know there was no cure, not even magical, for swiftly fixing a fractured relationship. It was uncomfortable but doable. They puttered and stumbled over topics of discussion, doing their best to keep the conversation going. Hermione'd gone through the same thing with her dad long ago and they were doing pretty alright now.
It was natural that they would hit some awkward topics, but Hermione hadn't expected it to get much worse than accidentally calling out her mother on poorly covering her grays. Then again, she should have planned to have to address the issue sooner rather than later.
"How has Ron been?"
Hermione choked on a piece of naan.
"Oh," her mum said.
"Yeah," Hermione said. "He was unfaithful."
"Oh!"
"So I left."
Her mum set her fork down and folded her hands under her chin. "I'm sorry that happened to you, sweetie, but you did the right thing."
Hermione nodded – there wasn't really anything to say to that besides duh – and went back to eating, but Helena didn't pick her fork up again. After several silent moments, Hermione set her fork back down, sensing their serious tone wasn't quite done.
"Mum, what's on your mind?"
"Hermione, I'm - I'm glad you came to talk to me like you did about, well, everything. I just can't help wondering what it was that helped you understand what I was too petty to say."
"Mum!" Hermione said. "You weren't petty! You were upset!"
Her mother sniffed, trying to hide her teary eyes with a false cold. "All the same, I should have told you how I was feeling. I should have tried to make you understand."
"You were too close to the situation, Mum," Hermione said. "No one thinks clearly when they're close to the situation. Not even us."
"All the same, I can't help but wonder how you came to be so, well, so mature."
Hermione sighed. "I wish I could just say it was just time – that it was inevitable I'd come to understand eventually – but honestly it took a friend of mine explaining his perspective as a parent to me. I'd never really factored your feelings of being a mum and all into how I looked at it. I was dead set on protecting you from the dangers that my being magic brought on you."
"Was it Harry that I've to thank for helping us back to each other, then, with his newfound fatherhood?"
Hermione blushed and tried to look anywhere but her mother's face. "Not Harry, no. A new friend."
"Oh?" Hermione's mum asked, waiting for her to continue. She knew better than to press her daughter for information that might be embarrassing to her.
"Yes, well," Hermione was fiddling with her napkin now, "Do you remember me ever mentioning Draco Malfoy?"
Helena huffed. "The little bully who made your cry and rage in equal measures during your first few years at Hogwarts? Hard to forget."
"He's really not that bad anymore. We've all had to grow up after what we went through," she said.
"And he's the friend with a child, then? I hope his child isn't anything like he was as a boy."
Hermione shook her head. "Not at all. Scorpius is such a sweet boy, truly! And he's so smart. Sometimes when Draco is playing a game – he's a professional quidditch player now, you see! Anyway, a lot of the time I'll watch Scorpius during the game. We read together or color or just chat. I even bring my mp3 player and a headphone splitter so we can listen to all the classic show tunes!"
Her mother laughed then. "Hermione, what child likes show tunes?"
"I did! And Scor does, too. Even Draco lingers when I've got the tele set to Turner Classic Movies."
"You enjoyed making your father laugh with your little performances."
"Well, I don't force Scorp to watch them with me, you know!"
"So then," Helena said, trying for nonchalance, "Draco is a friend your father and I should get used to hearing about."
Hermione nodded. "Yes, I quite intend to keep him around. He can still be rather self-assured, but he really is a big softie at heart."
"Just be careful dear. You were with Ron for a long time, and I hope you don't think I'm overstepping here, but I just want you to be sure you aren't hopping into a new... friendship too quickly."
Hermione blushed again. "That obvious then?"
"A bit, yes."
"It's been over a year since Ron and I split, Mum. And I think all the risk I've more or less been forced to take in my life for the sake of others, maybe this once I should take a risk just for me."
Helena sighed, but she trusted her daughter. "Then it's a serious relationship?"
"Mum, he's just a friend," Hermione said, picking her fork up again a spearing a piece of chicken to punctuate the end of the discussion before adding, "But yes, I intend for it to be a serious relationship."