Disclaimer: Didn't ya get it the first two times? Why do people even write these things? It's not like there's some kind of Disclaimer police out there. Oops, I've angered the law-men! Everything is mine, except for the characters and the general background plot. Those are... can you guess? J.K. Rowling's, you say? Also, the name Squirt belongs to my father, who insists on calling me that in front of all of my friends. I would say it belongs to me, except I don't want to claim it. Only-Child Syndrome belongs to Ron, and the cars belongs to.... well, one belongs to Mr. Granger, and the other used to belong to Mr. Weasley, and it now belongs to the Forbidden Forest. Ford can belong to itself.



I got some great reviews! Gin- you go girl! Listen to that soundtrack. Arabella- but of course www.sugarquill.com can look at it, I love the site!! Everyone, go there!! Now! You guys wouldn't believe that Happy Dances I did when I saw that two of my favorite authors, Arabella and Zsenya, read, reviewed, and actually said they liked my story! Eek! TigerFairy- sure, use it at the site, I can't wait for it to be up! Goddess.... what can I say to the person who left me the nicest review? That was 100% sweet, and thank you so much. To everyone else, thank you soooo much. I feel all warm inside! I tried to e-mail everyone who left their address, but if I didn't, don't hate me! I'm sorry!



Dedicated to The Great Crumbum and The One and Only Pineapple. You'ze guys are the best! Do you smell bacon, Crumbum? Hey Pineapple- Tch! You sparkplug! It's not like they'll even read this, seeing as how neither of them read Harry Potter... *gasp!* The horror, the horror!





~**~**~**~**~



Hermione lugged her trunk up onto her bed and threw it open, unpacking her things as she cried.



When she had read the letter from her parents, she had been more than a little apprehensive to go home for Christmas. Especially since she had to bring Ron and Harry with her. She had imagined that it would be bad. She had imagined that her parents would completely and utterly humiliate her, and that Harry and Ron would be traumatized, and that they would never speak to her again.



The problem with that, however, was that she hadn't been thinking bad enough.



Everything had started out alright. Her parents had been there on the other side of Platform 9 3/4 waiting for them, and they had looked normal. They were both wearing red and green, but that was alright. From a distance, they still looked relatively normal.



'And then,' Hermione thought bitterly, 'we just had to go and talk to them.'





:::wavy lines. (That's code for flashback, folks):::



"Little Squirt!" cried Mr. Granger when he saw Hermione, and he ran to embrace her. Tall, muscular, and with straight brown hair, he closed the distance between them quickly.



Mrs. Granger was right on his heels. Medium-sized and with blond, curly hair, she very much resembled Narcissa Malfoy, minus the snooty sneer.



From where Harry was standing, he could see the must-humor-the-parents smile on Hermione's face, and she glanced over her shoulder at him and Ron right before she was swallowed up in arms, her face with a Help Me! expression on it.



First, Mr. Granger picked Hermione up under the arms and swung her in a wide arc, her face already beginning to burn. Her legs hit the hip of a woman who was walking by, but the Grangers, minus Hermione, didn't notice. Hermione managed a quick apology before Mrs. Granger was on her. Hermione's mother squeezed her hard enough to make her gasp, and kissed both her cheeks. The woman that Hermione had hit stomped away muttering about rowdy family reunions.



Harry looked over at Ron and saw that he was trying desperately not to laugh. Harry thought that he must have looked a little miffed, because Ron leaned over and whispered in his ear, "They've got Only-Child Syndrome." He sounded so much like a doctor giving some kind of fatal diagnosis that Harry had to fight to keep in the laughs as well.



When Mrs. Granger finally released Hermione, Mr. and Mrs. Granger turned to Harry and Ron.



Mr. Granger strode over, and grabbed Harry's hand with such force that he was sure he felt something snap. "Jolly good to meet you, Hermione's told us so much!" As he said this, he pumped Harry's hand up and down, making Harry's whole arm shake.





"Harry Potter," he managed, and thankfully,Mr. Granger let go of his hand. Mr. Granger then moved on to Ron and gave him the same treatment. Meanwhile, Mrs. Granger went up to Harry and kissed his cheek, and then did the same to Ron after Mr. Granger was through with him. Hermione just stood in the background, blushing madly and mouthing the words 'I'm sorry' over and over.



Mr. and Mrs. Granger ran off to bring the car around, and Harry and Ron looked at Hermione. She however, was not looking at either of them. Hermione was staring down at the ground, her head bent downward, her hair obscuring her face. Her ears were quite visible though, and they were bright red. The boys stared at her, and eventually, she spoke.



"I am so sorry."



~**~**~**~**~



The ride home from the station had been even worse.



Mr. Granger pulled the car around to the front of the station, and then hopped out to help with the trunks. Everyone piled into the car, and they were off.



Ron stared around, admiring everything. He'd only been in one car before, and his father's old Ford Anglia had been nothing compared to this. Mr. Granger noticed him looking around in the rearview mirror.



"Do you like it? It's American, but it's still a nice car. Have you ever been in one?"



"Yes," answered Ron. "Dad used to have an old Ford Anglia."



"Really?" said Mr. Granger. "This is a Ford too. A Ranger, to be exact. The good old Granger Ranger!"



A light groan from the backseat told Harry and Ron that Hermione had definitely heard that one before. "How about we show Ron the radio, Dad?" she said with faked cheerfulness.



"Smashing idea, pumpkin." He reached for the radio nob, but Mrs. Granger grabbed his wrist.



"Sweetie, don't you think we should listen to something more seasonal? Christmas is in three days, after all," said Mrs. Granger.



"Oh, no, I don't think that-" began Hermione, but Mr. Granger had already popped a small cassette into the player. Peppy, upbeat Christmas carols began to pour from the speakers. And if that wasn't bad enough-



"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way!" sang Mr. an d Mrs. Granger merrily. "Come on kids, sing along!" commanded Mrs. Granger.



Needless to say, none of them joined in.



~**~**~**~**~



The drive from the station had never been longer for Hermione. The Grangers lived a good thirty minutes from London, and with her mother and father not lowering their voices a decibel the whole ride it was quite a long trip.



Finally, out in the snowcapped countryside, Mr. Granger pulled onto a long and winding driveway. At the end of the driveway sat a house. The house was covered in every kind of light and decoration imaginable. There was a nativity scene on the front yard, which was next to a large electric elf who was bowing up and down. Hanging icicle lights dangled from every available surface. There were tall plastic candycanes on both sides of the front walk, and a huge evergreen wreath on the door. And to top off this Winter Wonderland, the crown of glory; a huge statuette of Santa and his reindeer was perched on the roof, illuminated by strategically placed spotlights.



Harry and Ron exited the car with looks of wonder and astonishment, both staring fixedly at the house. Hermione exited the car with a look of contempt and disgust. Her parents wore looks of pride.



"Isn't it great?" asked Mr. Granger.



"Isn't it pathetic?" whispered Hermione so that only Harry and Ron could hear her. "The inside is worse."



She was, at least to her opinion, right. They all tromped inside, Mr. Granger explaining to Ron how the lights worked. The foyer looked normal, and Harry wondered what Hermione was talking about. But then, they entered the rest of the house, and he saw.



The halls were decked with the traditional boughs of holly, and garlands of every color were entwined around the stair banisters. The living room was stuffed with small figurines and doodads, and a large tree stood proudly in front of the windows. It was bedecked with twinkling lights, strands of popcorn and cranberries, ornaments, and on the top was a silvery star. The kitchen was adorned with everything from strings of ivy down to little Christmasy magnets on the refrigerator.



Mrs. Granger insisted on serving milk and cookies in the kitchen, so everyone sat down and ate cut-outs in various shapes and with colorful sprinkles. Hermione bolted hers down as quickly as possible, and shot Ron and Harry looks that said they had better do the same. So they wolfed the cookies down, and Hermione rushed them out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the bedrooms.



She shoved them into the guest bedroom and shut the door behind her, leaning against it as if to block out any stray parents that may have tried to follow them. Harry and Ron were looking at her, and she could tell that they were trying very hard not to laugh.



"Fine, go ahead," she said, and they both exploded with laughter, holding their sides and leaning against each other for support. She watched them with one eyebrow raised, and when the laughter had subsided a bit, she said, "are you two quite finished?" She was obviously angry; her voice seemed to almost tremble with it.



Harry and Ron looked at each other, which was not a smart idea. They both burst out laughing again.



"Fine. You two go ahead and laugh, I'm going to go unpack." And Hermione flounced from the room in anger.



Harry and Ron abruptly stopped laughing. "I think she's mad," said Harry.



"Well, thank you Captain Obvious," said Ron, rolling his eyes. "That was really smart of us; get Hermione mad at us when we're staying at her house."



"We should go apologize..." said Harry, trailing off. He looked at Ron and saw that his friend was just about as eager to do that as he was.



"Maybe we should wait for her to cool off a bit," suggested Ron.



"That might be wise."



:::wavy lines (that's the end of the flashback!):::



Hermione slammed her now empty trunk shut and crammed it into her closet. She flopped down on her bed and stared at the ceiling angrily. How could they laugh at her like that? Didn't they realize that she already felt badly enough?



She lay there stewing for quite a while. Finally she sighed and sat up. 'No good just sitting here getting more angry,' she thought. 'I've got to do something.' She selected her favorite book from one of the many shelves lining her walls, but even it couldn't keep her concentration. She needed to do something a bit more physical.



She looked around the room for ideas, and her eyes fell on a shoebox under her desk. 'My ice skates,' she thought. Ice skating was just what she needed. She glanced out the window, and saw with a sinking heart that it was already dark. She looked back at her ice skates longingly, and thought at them, 'Tomorrow.'



~**~**~**~**~





BUM BUM BUM!! So, how was that? I don't really think that Hermione's parents are quite so dorky. Just call it that infectious Christmas spirit. By the way, her favorite book? It is NOT "Hogwarts, a History". It's either "The Giver" by Lois Lowry, or "Jonathon Livingston Seagull" by Richard Bach. I'm not quite sure.



Everyone who hasn't already- go read "A Muggle Summer," by Zsenya. It's awesome! I have a feeling that a lot of what is coming up in my story may be very similar to what happened in Z's. I didn't mean for that to happen, it just sorta did. (Never mind. I changed my story, so now it's more different. But go read her anyway!!)



While we're on the topic of other people's fics, here's a few more helpful hints: "Paradigm of Uncertainty," (and its sequel) by Lori, "Draco Dormiens" by Cassandra Claire (as well as its sequel), anything by Princess Kate or Arabella or Pigwidgeon or Mrs Weasley... The list goes on. If you want anymore, e-mail me at llamachic8@aol.com.



By the way, more Disclaimers- all Christmas decorations belong to the Grangers, although Hermione might try to deny it. Jingle Bells... can belong to Harry, since he doesn't own anything yet. *Thanks!* You're welcome, Harry! And Crumbum and Pineapple belong to themselves, mostly because no one else wants them. Sorry dudes, but it's true.



Well, that's all for now! Review if you want, just hit Back on your browser if you don't. Whatever! Cya next time!!