Disclaimer: I don't own anything; all characters are property of JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, Warner Brothers, etc. I just own the Plot Bunny that bit me.
(A/N I didn't give Mr and Mrs Granger first names because JK Rowling hasn't, and I didn't feel it was my place to name her characters. If anyone DOES know what she thinks the names are, please let me know!)
Mrs Granger sat staring at the flickering flames in the fireplace. Moments ago her only child had stepped through those flames to spend the rest of the summer with her friends Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. She sighed and turned to face her husband, who'd placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's been six years now, and I still can't quite get used to watching Hermione use magic." she said to him, trying to keep her voice light.
"It takes getting used to, certainly."
"I wish…" Mrs. Granger broke off, not sure exactly what she was trying to say. She sighed again. "I hope she has a good time."
"She seems to. She is fond of the Weasleys, and that Potter boy." Mr Granger had an idea of what his wife was thinking, "Don't fret, honey. It's good for her to be among people like her. She doesn't have to watch what she says all the time when she's there. Remember that summer before we went to France? Her cousin found one of her books she'd been reading, and it took some convincing on Hermione's part before Alice believed it was just a fictional story, and not a real spell book."
"Alice always was nosy."
"And has a strong imagination. Not always a good combination. Come on, darling. Let's take advantage of our time alone and go out to a nice restaurant, maybe go to the cinema or something."
Mrs Granger nodded her agreement but said, "Just give me a few minutes to myself, please darling?"
"Of course." Mr Granger kissed his wife fondly. "I'll pop down the to the shop and get a paper to see what films are showing."
After her husband left, Mrs Granger sat in her chair, gazing unseeingly at the fireplace, where the flames were beginning to die down, and thought back to the day that changed their lives.
They had all been so surprised when the letter came, and more surprised still when the letter was followed by a visit from someone who declared herself an actual witch. Mrs Granger had answered the door to find a young woman standing there, a bright smile on her face. "We're C of E" she'd said by way of dismissal, but the woman just laughed.
"I'm here to explain Hogwarts to you," she told her, still giggling, "not convert you."
Hermione, who had followed her mother to the door, stared in wide-eyed wonder at that. "Are you a real witch?" she'd asked incredulously. The woman looked normal enough to mother and daughter, with no outward signs of magic or witchcraft, and Mrs. Granger at least still couldn't help but wonder if it was all some kind of elaborate joke.
"I am. My name is Gillian, and I'm here to answer your questions and help you get the things you need to get started. Every year Hogwart Alumni offers to help out the Muggle born students who are starting at the school. I'm sure you have a million questions, and then tomorrow we can go to London to get your school things."
Gillian was a pleasant girl, who had also been what she called "Muggle born." To Mr. And Mrs. Granger's surprise, there are other children who had the same gifts their daughter did, and are sought out and accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was terribly exciting, and Gillian patiently answered all their questions until they were almost comfortable with the idea of Hermione's new path.
That first trip to Diagon Alley was something the Grangers wouldn't soon forget. Gillian led them through the Leaky Caldron; explaining something about Muggle repelling charms and ways around them that Mrs. Granger didn't quite catch, and out the back before leading them, quite literally, into another world.
Mr. And Mrs. Granger followed Gillian nervously, trying not to stare at the witches and wizards dressed in their colorful robes and pointed hats, while Hermione, her eyes shining, kept up a never-ending stream of questions for Gillian, her good humour never wavering, to answer. When they got to the bookstore, Flourish and Blotts, Hermione was over the moon. Bookstores were her natural element, and she was wild to get her hands on anything that would teach her about this new world. She got all her course books, and the Grangers couldn't help but succumb to her enthusiasm by buying her some extras, including a huge tome entitled "Hogwarts, A History" and a smaller book, "Quiddich Through the Ages". Gillian had told them a bit about Quiddich, and Hermione wanted to learn as much as she could about every aspect of being a witch, even if she wasn't much interested in sports herself.
The shopping trip helped the Grangers feel more comfortable about this strange new situation they found themselves in, and truth be told, they were both a bit relieved to have some of the odd occurrences that had happened around their daughter explained. They were scientists, of sorts, and it nagged not to have logical explanations for things, even if the explanations turned out to be, well, magic.
Nonetheless, despite Gillian's reassurances that Hermione she was going to the safest place in Britain, and was going to have the time of her life, it was a wrench to watch Hermione disappear through the wall to get to the Hogwarts Express. Being the bright child that she was, it was inevitable Hermione would go away, rather than go to the local secondary school, but knowing it and seeing it happen were two different things, and this was far more difficult then just sending her to somewhere like Cheltenham Ladies College. She was going somewhere they, as "Muggles" couldn't follow.
The sound of the door opening brought Mrs Granger back to the present. She hastily wiped away the tears that had fallen, and turned to smile at her husband.
"There's a new Richard Curtis film we could see," Mr Granger was saying as he came back into the lounge, "or we could…darling…" he was at his wife's side in an instant, not fooled by her bright smile. "You were crying again. Can you…do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"
"You're like a bloodhound, sometimes," Mrs Granger said lovingly. "I can't keep anything from you." She sighed. "I was just thinking about the day Hermione left us to go to school. I just sometimes feel like one day she is going to disappear through that wall and we'll never see her again."
"You know that's not true."
"Isn't it? She hasn't spent a Christmas holiday with us since her first year."
"You know how Hermione is about studying…"
"And each summer she's spent less and less time at home."
"That isn't true…"
"Isn't it? Last summer she was gone for over a month, and this year she was home for a week before joining the Weasleys. A week!" Mrs Granger hadn't intended to say anything but now that she started she couldn't seem to stop. "Things are going on that we no nothing about, and can do nothing about. Remember her second year? We got that letter from the school saying our child was under some kind of spell, but not to worry, she'd be fine. And in her third year, that escaped criminal turned out to be a wizard and we wouldn't have even known that if I didn't find that newspaper in her trunk. And then I find out that Hermione actually met him! She only told me the story to stop me worrying, but honestly, I had nightmares for ages. And this past year…something happened, I don't know what, but did you see how pale she was when she got off the train? I asked her if she'd been sick, and she didn't answer. And then that man came and put spells on our house for our protection, but he wouldn't say from what. And she fixed her teeth with magic." For some reason it was this last thought that made her break into tears again, "We told her not to, but she did anyway."
Mr Granger looked nonplussed by his wife's outburst. "Well, she did say that was because of being accidentally hexed or something, and really it's not such a big deal…"
"That's not the point!" wailed Mrs Granger, "we're losing her. Don't you see that? Every year she becomes more a part of the Wizard world, and less a part of ours." She was sobbing now, and Mr Granger could do nothing other than take his wife in his arms and hug her until her tears subsided.
Finally Mrs Granger pulled back, smiling ruefully at her husband. "I'm sorry. I get too emotional. But she's our only child, and I miss her." She grinned, some of good humour returning. "Maybe we should have had more children."
Mr Granger kissed his wife softly, put his arms around her, and rested his cheek on the top of her head. "We always knew Hermione's gifts would take her far away from here, even before we knew about the magic. She is a bright, wonderful girl, destined for greatness, if I'm any judge. Don't worry, my darling. We won't lose her. She's our daughter. She will always be Hermione Granger. No where her talents take her," he smiled slightly, "and no matter what her teeth look like."
They both chuckled softly, then sat side-by-side in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts as the flames in the fireplace dwindled and died.