A/N: This is the plot bunny that ambushed me in a dream after I read one of the reviews on the original "Letter to No One." Amazing what inspiration the muses can come up with!
A/N UPDATE (Jan 2006): This story is being re-edited to clean up minor plotline glitches, punctuation and grammar errors prior to the posting of a new chapter. "Metamorphosis" does not take OOTP and HBP into account, although the author reserves the right to borrow various bits of background and minor characters to use for cosmetic purposes.
Metamorphosis: Chapter Three
by RowanRhys
Friday, December 20, 1996
Hermione passed through the barrier between Platform 9 3/4 and the rest of Kings Cross Station, and, temporarily abandoning her trunk and Crookshanks in his basket, flung herself in her father's arms. "Happy Christmas, Dad!"
Mr. Granger hugged her close, then relinquished his nearly-grown daughter to his wife, and took over the luggage trolley.
Hermione listened to her mother's chatter about shopping for presents, the expected guests, and the menu for Christmas Day as they moved slowly through the crowded station. She caught sight of Dean Thomas being made much of by an elegantly beautiful woman of color and waved to him. "Happy Christmas, Dean! See you when term begins!" she called.
"One of your classmates?" Mr. Granger peered through his glasses toward the other student who was draped, like Hermione, in a red and gold scarf.
"Yes, Dad. He's one of Harry's dorm mates. I help him with homework sometimes." They reached the street entrance and Hermione shivered in a gust of freezing wind that blew her bushy hair back from her face. She hesitated as she stepped onto the pavement when she saw a shining black limousine at the kerb. Standing beside it, looking as cold as the snow that was spitting through the smoggy London air, was Lucius Malfoy.
His icy grey eyes scanned over her family and returned to rest on her before a servant hurried up, pushing a luggage trolley, followed by a sulky-looking Draco, wearing his House silver and green scarf over an expensive black wool coat. The Slytherin gave her a brief nod as he passed. "Granger."
She flushed, remembering their all-too-intimate and angry encounter on the train, and muttered, "Malfoy", before urging her parents toward the car park. As they went, she could feel Lucius' malevolent gaze on her back all the way to where the family car was parked.
Her father hoisted her trunk into the car's boot and asked, "Nice looking young man. Another schoolmate?"
"Nice looking? Not to my eyes. We--don't really get along. I'm in Gryffindor House, he's in Slytherin." Hermione slid into the back seat and tucked Crookshanks' basket next to her. "Draco Malfoy is not someone I want to even think about until after I get back to school in January."
Thankfully, her mother began to talk about the relatives who were supposed to descend upon the Granger home in four days' time and Hermione spent the drive home as an audience to her parents' commentary on the snowy weather, and how the various aunts, uncles and cousins would be traveling to get there.
The next evening, Hermione was helping her mother clean up after dinner. She hummed happily, as she used her wand to safely levitate just-washed-and-dried dishes to their places in the cupboards to shelves she was normally too short to reach easily. Since she'd turned 17 the previous September, it was nice to finally get to use her magic outside of school.
Her mother laughed at the sight. "I'm going to be spoiled by the time you go back, my dear."
"No, you won't. Aunt Rose arrives tomorrow and I can't show off in front of her. This is my last chance to practice until after Boxing Day. It's back to the Muggle way tomorrow night."
"And here I was hoping to get through the holiday with no broken dishes," Mrs. Granger sighed theatrically then laughed.
Hermione laughed too. "Mum, I still need to do some Christmas shopping. Want to come with me tomorrow?"
"To Diagon Alley?" The older woman's eyes brightened. She was fascinated by the Wizardly shopping district, and enjoyed the rare excursions into part of her daughter's world.
"Well, yes. But I need to go to some Muggle stores, too."
"Well, Sunday shopping hours will be a bit awkward, but if we time it right, we can be back before Aunt Rose gets here. How about we take the train into town? Your father can pick us up at the station to bring us and the parcels home."
Hermione sent the last few pieces of silverware flying into the drawer and magically pushed it closed. "Sounds great to me, Mum." She glanced at the clock. "Isn't it time to check your sugar levels?"
"Yes, mother!" Mrs. Granger made a face and went to rummage in the cupboard by the sink.
Hermione sighed quietly as she sat down at the kitchen table. It had been a shock to find out a year ago that her mother had acquired adult-onset diabetes. She immediately had gone into research mode and read up on the condition, tracking down every bit of information she could, and nagging her mother in regards to diet, insulin jabs, and daily monitoring; doing so by Owl when she was at school, or face-to-face at home over the summer holiday.
She absently chewed on her lip as she wondered if the Wizarding world had to deal with the condition. It hadn't occurred to her to check on that. I'll look it up when I get back to school. She winced as her mother matter-of-factly drew up a syringe of insulin. And maybe they've got a better way of handling it instead of having to stab oneself twice a day. A potion, perhaps. I guess I could always ask Madam Pomfrey.
TBC