A/N: I'm back~~~ :3
Thank you SO MUCH for your kind words and support! Everyone was so understanding about needing to take a break from posting for a bit to make sure I got the summer done right, and it was really appreciated and lowered my stress level. I imagined people being mad, and instead everyone was reassuring and happy for me. :)
Many people also reached out to tell me that if I needed to take a longer break, everyone would understand, which was really very kind. I think I am okay for now. We shall see come November, however - new infants present unexpected challenges all over the place :P
"You dropped it?" Hermione's father was horrified. "You dropped Divination? After you got the best in the class on your exam?"
"Richard, she's allowed to choose her own courses," Hermione's mother admonished, bustling around the table, but Hermione's father was not to be deterred.
"I can't believe that you have a class that helps you see the future," he said, gesturing wildly, "and you're choosing not to take it."
"It only teaches you if you have the Sight," Hermione protested. "And Dad, I can predict the future much better with Arithmancy. You can run equations and get much more specific answers and odds—"
"Forgive me, Hermione," her father said dryly, "but the idea of my daughter as a prophetess is much more exciting than the idea of my daughter as a magical actuary."
"Dad—!" Hermione's face burned.
"Richard, lay off," her mother advised, bringing a basket of rolls over to the table to join the roast she'd prepared. "We're very proud of you, dear," she told Hermione, giving her a smile. "You placed top in all your classes, even the ones you didn't like very much. That takes dedication and hard work."
"That's true," her father conceded. He shot Hermione a grin. "Especially if you're busy rounding up extraordinarily deadly beasts for extra credit in Creatures class."
Hermione grinned. "There is that."
"Yes, well, I'm not pleased about that," Hermione's mother said dryly. "But at least Hermione was facing down dangerous creatures under the supervision of a teacher for her exam, as opposed to taking them on with a sword and no adults around."
Hermione briefly wondered what her mother would think if she ever met Hagrid and subsequently realized he was far more likely to be a hindrance than a help when it came to handling very dangerous creatures. The mental image of Hagrid running to hug a dragon as her mum watched on in horror came to mind, and Hermione bit her lip, hard-pressed not to smile.
"So what are your grand plans for this summer?" her father asked. "You'll still have your government position, yes?"
"The Wizengamot still meets during the summer," Hermione confirmed. "I'll be working on organizing a fundraiser, actually, for my werewolf bill that passed. It's to get initial funding for constructing the house for the New Zealand werewolves, in exchange for them housing ours."
"Is that the art auction you wrote about?" her mother inquired. "Have you had much luck getting pieces yet?"
"Not really. It kind of took a backseat to exams and everything else," Hermione admitted. "I don't really know how to contact werewolves, let alone ask them to artistically portray their anguish and transformation. I asked a couple classmates to produce a couple pieces of art, but I don't really have anything so far."
"I wonder if there are muggle depictions you could use," her father wondered. "Werewolves exist in muggle stories too, you know. You could find some local artists at university and commission a few pieces."
"That's… not a bad idea," Hermione said, turning the suggestion over slowly in her head. "And the idea is to get a wide array of pieces. No one would need to know who painted it, necessarily."
Her father beamed, pleased at being helpful.
"We're also building a tree house in Luna's backyard," Hermione said. "That will be fun. We want to have a sleepover there at some point - my coven, that is."
Her mother and father exchanged a glance, before shrugging.
"I don't see why not," her father said. "It might be very hot, though. It'll be the middle of summer."
"That's true," Hermione admitted. "I guess we'll have to see."
"How is the silver warding going?" her mother asked, dabbing at her mouth with her napkin as she ate.
"It's going," Hermione said, shrugging. "Slow and steady, I guess. They've done about a third of the tenancies now, I think? Maybe almost half? But they can only do them once a month, after all."
"We ran into your friend Draco Malfoy a few months back," her father said, grinning. "He was shocked to see us. Wanted to know about how we'd gotten there, how muggles could use the Floo and get owls. Wanted to know all about my hat."
"Your father was wearing his Indiana Jones hat," her mother said, giving Hermione a look of amusement. "And Draco was perfectly polite. He took our safety very seriously, advising us to leave by dusk so we wouldn't be in danger—"
Her father snorted. "A kid, advising adults of being in danger."
"He had a valid point," her mother said, raising an eyebrow at her husband. "Anyway, we were grateful for his help and assistance. He said he was handling the project from there, and he kept the flags and supplies we'd gotten to help." Her mother paused. "Though, he paid us back for them in gold coins. Would you be able to exchange them in? I can't imagine the reaction of taking literal gold into the bank."
Hermione laughed. "Of course, mum. I can go to Gringotts."
"I wish they did need our help again," her father sighed wistfully. "We may not get to be full-on adventurers like you, but it sure was fun to be an NPC helping the heroes escape danger along the way for a while."
"Richard," her mother admonished sharply, and her father and Hermione shared a hidden grin.