Helen and David Granger went about their evening routine, getting ready for bed. Hermione was already fast asleep in her room. She clutched her Hogwarts letter in her hands as if she was afraid to let it go. Afraid that she'd find out the day had been a dream.

Hermione had turned 11 that day. The family had been surprised to find a Minerva McGonagall on their doorstep. They'd learned that their daughter was a witch, a real life, actual witch. The news had been as shocking as it had been a relief. It explained so much that in hindsight; it seemed crazy that they hadn't come up with that explanation themselves.

The couple was uncharacteristically quiet as they got into bed. They settled down and unlike most days, neither grabbed the books on their bedside tables. "Today, they came today," Helen said. "On our baby's eleventh birthday. Eleven fucking years, and they came today."

David reached over to hold his wife's hand. "After everything we've been through, everything she's been through," she continued. "She is an outcast at school because of her "strangeness", and Lord knows her intelligence didn't help the issue. God, we thought we were losing our minds. There was so much…..I scolded her, grounded her for…..I thought she was lying…and that one time…." She trailed off and started to sob. Her husband put a comforting arm around her, pressing her into his chest as she cried.

There had been so many times when things happened that they couldn't explain. They thought they were going mad, and the stories Hermione would tell…. They didn't think anything about it when she was younger, but as she grew, they feared something was wrong. They sent the girl to doctors and psychologists, no one found anything. Well, besides the fact that their daughter was highly intelligent. Eventually she just stopped talking about it. Now they knew it was because she learned to keep that part of herself hidden, not because it had gone away.

Then there was the incident when she was three. She had bitten another child at daycare. Helen had punished her by taking her favorite stuffy away for the day. She'd placed it high in the hallway closet planning on returning it to the girl the following morning. She'd managed to get the unset toddler down for her nap and started some light housecleaning while the girl slept. She'd come back sometime later when she heard Hermione playing in her room. Helen had peaked into the room and was horrified to see that Hermione was playing with the stuffy.

There had been no way the child could have reached it. No way that didn't include the toddler doing something extremely dangerous. In fact, it was impossible, yet here it was in her daughter's arms. She'd snapped. She's scolded and spanked her daughter as the little girl cried and swore it had been there when she'd waken up. Helen had raised her hand again to strike her child when she stopped herself. The horror of what she'd done sank in. She'd struck her daughter in anger and fear. She had been so scared when she'd seen it. So afraid of what could have happened as the child retrieved her toy, she fell to sit on the floor and gathered Hermione up in her arms and wept. She'd never struck her child again after that day, but the incident still haunted her.

"We should have been told from the beginning. They could have helped us, could have helped her. Their secrecy statutes be damned. How the hell are "Muggles" supposed to hide magic when they don't even know it exists?" she asked. Helen looked up to David. "Aren't you angry?" She asked him.

"I'm furious," he whispered. "I'm so angry that I'm afraid that I would wake up the entire neighborhood if I started talking about it," he admitted. "She's our baby, and she deserved better. She deserved friends, she deserved to feel normal, and she certainly deserves more than to be thrown into a new world at eleven and told to try her best," he continued. "That professor said that all children from Muggle and magical families alike start at eleven, but you know that the magical kids have the advantage. They have known all their lives that magic existed. They've seen it practiced from the cradle. Hermione won't even be able to practice magic at home. Do you really think that their children have the same constraints? They're daft if they don't think that gives them an advantage over, what did they call them? Muggleborns?" He looked down to his wife who nodded. He sighed heavily. "I'll be damned if they make our daughter an outcast a second time," he declared.

They lay in their embrace for some time. Silent, lost in their own thoughts. "We're going to let her go," Helen said quietly.

"Of course, we'll let her go," David responded. "What choice do we really have, does she really have?"

"None," his wife agreed. They fell into silence once more.

"Tomorrow we'll send word to Professor McGonagall. Tell her we want to go to Diagon Alley as soon as can be arranged. We'll get all the books for her first year so she can start studying now," Helen said.

"We're going to lose her," David whispered.

"It's inevitable," Helen agreed. "It's the world she was born for, the one she'll spend the majority of her time in, doing things that we can't even imagine…."

Again, they fell into silence and eventually into a fitful sleep.

*D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H*

Professor McGonagall took them to Diagon Alley a few days later. Hermione was beside herself with excitement. David and Helen smiled indulgently at her as they tried not to look too out of place. It took an inordinate amount of effort to not gawk at the wonders around them. They watched their daughter select her wand, and took her to Flourish and Blotts for her school books. They indulged Hermione's veracious appetite for knowledge. They bought her books on magic theory and history. Anything that could help her acclimate to the new environment they would be sending her into. As they wandered the aisles, David came upon the book Hogwarts: A History, and added it to the ever-growing pile.

Their daughter devoured the books with relish. She spent all of her free time studying. She was determined to be the best. She practiced spell movements and pronunciations since she wasn't allowed to practice with her wand. Her parents just hoped it would be enough for her to thrive when she finally left for her new school.

Almost a year later, Helen and David stood on the platform of 9 ¾ with a trunk and an overly excited daughter. They scanned the sea of parents and children picking out the other Muggles. They were obvious. Their dress was different, many seemed uncomfortable in the strange crowd. There were far less Muggles than they had expected. Meaning Hermione would be behind far more children than they had originally thought. They didn't let their worry show though. They wanted to send their only child off with smiles.

And so, they did. They bid their daughter goodbye with wide smiles and watery eyes. They waved at her as the train pulled out. They felt part of their hearts leave with her. They prayed that she would fit in, find friends, be happy. They prayed that when her schooling was done, that their sweet girl would still have a place in her life for them. Whatever happened though, she would always, always have a place in theirs.