I don't own the story or the characters of Harry Potter, this work is entirely fan-made. The rights to everything Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. I also have no beta or proof-reader (at least not a human one) so expect some mistakes from time to time.

"Hello" - Speech

'Hello' - Thoughts

"Hello/Hello" - Generally an implied change in tone or volume

Since Hermione had left her mother's house, she had been happier, even though only three hours had passed since their argument. There was no nagging, no unreal expectations to be held up, and what was more was that her grandparents were always happy to see her son and granddaughter. Though she was glad to be out of her mother's reach here, she missed her home, the one she'd grown up in, become an adult in and found herself in. "Dad, I don't know what to make of this whole thing. It's really confusing me." David took a glance at his daughter, who was, bless her heart, trying to hold back tears from her eyes. 'This was the little girl that I held in my arms just 18 years ago? How you've grown.' He turned his head back to the road, watching carefully as trees and fences alike rushed past. "Listen, I know that it doesn't seem like the best thing for us now… and it probably won't ever be the same again. What I can tell you though, is that… as long as you have me in your life, you're never going to be alone and you'll always have my shoulder to lean on. I love you and I hope that your mother can find that she loves you as much as I know you love her. But, there is a chance, a large one… that you won't be seeing your mother very often, especially now that you have a great man to rely on, that isn't your father. And I hope that never changes for your sake." Hermione sat silently for the rest of the journey, trying desperately to fall to sleep, but failing each time she thought that slumber approached, as relaxing too much reminded her of those nights her mother used to curl up on the sofa with her as a little girl, and how she would probably never share another moment like that again.

A slam woke her as a door shut and she heard her father's voice talking to someone. Yawning, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and sitting up, Hermione saw the open door of her grandparents' house, with light streaming out of the space between her father and his mother. The warm hue that it gave off was inviting, too comforting to disagree with her sleep-addled emotions, so she dragged her body up and out of the seat, slamming her door and opening the back one. To grab her suitcase of items wasn't difficult normally, but it was heavy, under the stress of the current situation and reflecting her heart's misery. Heaving it from the leather seat of the car, she tugged the handle upwards and wheeled it towards the yellow and orange glow that seemed to seep from every corner of the doorframe it could. Before the entrance hall, though, stood her grandma, smiling wearily, seemingly hiding a melancholy frown, though invisible it was. "Hi, grandma. It's been a while, hasn't it?" Hermione collapsed into her arms, for it had been a while, almost two years to the day, August 14, 2018. It was now July 28th, and although it had been a while, her presence was never forgotten. While her father could calm her down almost instantaneously, there was something about Mrs Matilda Granger that let her stay warm, inviting, like coming home, though she far from it. Hermione and her grandfather used to affectionately call it the grandma charm, as, like magic, it was nearly impossible to explain but so wondrous that it couldn't be anything else. Her grandma closed the gap between them and nestled Hermione's head between her head and shoulders, stroking her once bushy mane of hair and making noises that could only be described as soothing and tranquil. Hermione separated from her Grandma and looked at her with tears in her eyes. "I wish we could've seen you sooner. How've you been Grandma?" Matilda smiled and shook her head gently. "Don't start small talk with me, young lady. I'm your grandma, not a colleague, speaking of which, how's the library?" This was what Hermione had missed when she was away. Comfort incarnate.

She held the cup of tea that was graciously offered by Matilda Granger with a firm grip, but loose enough to avoid breaking the mug, which had already almost happened, though Matilda intervened and stopped her son from breaking the china. Hermione's grandpa came walking into the room with a deep grin on his face, then noticed his son and granddaughter sitting on his favourite old sofa. "Oh, hello David, Hermione. What are you both doing here? Where's Sarah?" He quizzed as Hermione rushed to hug him. He gave a loud "Oof!" sound when she embraced him and made a surreptitious glance at his son, who gave back a look that seemed to tell him everything. "Ah, well, you're just in time for dinner, aren't you. Lucky for you, it's lasagne." He grinned and pulled away from Hermione, who now wore a smile herself and was drying her eyes with her sleeve. David sounded guilty as he asked his mum: "Are you sure it's alright, Mum? We wouldn't want to impose." Matilda waved it off and whispered something into Donald's ear. He breathed out and led them all into the kitchen with a conjoined dining room, where there was already a lasagne prepared and steaming on the wooden table. The whole house looked the same way as the dining room, luxurious, yet homey. It was simple and almost identical to its neighbouring houses from the outside, but it used wooden logs and varnished beams to hold everything together, like a cabin from Centerparcs. "This house hasn't changed a bit," Hermione remarked with a fond smile into the distance outside. "I wish we could have come to see you both sooner and under better circumstances. I've missed you both so much." David ate silently whilst his daughter did the catching up on her part, happily talking about college and her exams, the prom and… Harry.

"Harry." Hermione breathed again, starting to confuse her grandparents.

"Hermione, darling, what's wrong? You said this boy's name twice and haven't explained who he is." Matilda said after swallowing a mouthful of pasta. The young woman shook herself from her reverie, her perfect daydream. "Oh, sorry, what? I didn't catch that? Could you repeat it, please?" Both Matilda and Donald had seen this before and in their experience, it was best to leave that conversation until after dinner, when their granddaughter would be able to go to sleep with peaceful dreams of this 'Harry', instead of the ones of the day's events concerning her mother. "Never mind, sweetie. Just you eat up now, I doubt you've eaten since lunchtime." Hermione nodded and her thoughts drifted back to that boy, the black hair, enchanting eyes and the mind that was so uniquely… Harry's. Without noticing it, 7:30 pm turned to 8 pm, then 8:30 pm, until a cough broke her trance once more.

"Hermione, bedtime dear. Its nearly nine. You should get some sleep and put today behind you. Remember what that old tortoise told you: 'Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery and-,'" She finished the quote, having watched that silly movie hundreds of times as a kid: "' today is a gift, that is why it is called the present.' Are you always to use that line on me, grandpa? 'Cause, it doesn't feel like a gift." She got up and smiled at him, hugging him goodnight. "It only gets better from here. And we learned something. Anything we can learn from is a gift. And I'll keep saying it until you have children of your own to pass the message on to. Now, go on, I set your old room up just how you liked it and I found something that I think you might have lost. It is on your bed. Goodnight Hermione." With a kiss to her forehead, Donald left her to her devices and went to clean up the table from dinner, which Hermione's father helped with. Once out of earshot, they began their own conversation, concerning the less favourable aspects of his day.

"It got to that point then, did it?" Donald asked his son, who was tried his hardest not to break down in the presence of his daughter, who needed him to be strong now. Now more than ever. David nodded and choked down a sob that threatened to force its way up and out of his mouth, betraying his weakness. "She can't do this anymore. I can't live with it, Hermione can't be around her! She's going to snap, she's going to do something that she can't take back. She pretty much already has. I'm betting that she has already taken to starting and finishing the beers in the drinks fridge." Wiping his eyes with a sleeve and picking up more cutlery, he sighed in anguish. "I just don't know what to do, Dad, she and I have grown so far apart that I- I don't know if I can fix it. I- I don't know if I want to fix it, to try and fix her! She broke a long time ago and the cracks are starting to show. And now, I don't think that they can be brought back together." This was a new side of his boy that Donald had never seen in this household, and Mr David Granger was born and grew up in this house. This wasn't the wailing of a newborn baby, or the tantrum of a toddler or even the angsty ruminations of a hormonal teenager. This was utter despair at losing the one he loved above anyone but his daughter. It wasn't something that he or his wife had ever encountered; David had been an extremely well-behaved if a little rambunctious boy and was even a prefect in high school and not once, had they heard their son break down like this. It was downright heart-shattering. Matilda and Donald Granger were the only ones to see this side of him, for he never wanted to be weak, never wanted to be the person that couldn't support his family.

Harry Potter was a thoroughly miffed person right now, for, once he had returned to his apartment, he had not only seen Ron's door closed with a pair of women's underwear on the door handle, he had received a text from Hermione that read simply: "Please call me back when you get the first chance. I need to talk with someone…" His normal rationale had fled the moment he read the suspense marks, as Hermione wasn't one to add those into a text message, let alone need to talk over the phone asap. So, once Lavender had finally left and Ron was asleep, judging from the snores that came out of the room, he dialled up Hermione's number and heard the ringing tone until it cut off and he heard a weary "Hello?" She sounded sleepy, then again, he was the one who had waited patiently for Ron's girlfriend to stop her moaning to call Hermione. "You said you wanted to talk as soon as I could?"

"I need to speak to someone who isn't family about all of this. It's eating me up inside." She sniffed over the phone. Harry could tell that she had been crying because she sounded exactly the same way when some of the older girls had picked on her in their first year of high school and she had fled to the school bathroom. Of course, Harry couldn't enter the girl's lavatory, but he could message her and hear her sobs through the thin doors. "About what, Hermione? It's alright, you can talk to me about anything, you know that, right?" In her bed at her grandparent's house, Hermione clutched a stuffed toy otter as she held the phone to her ear; it brought her comfort and some sense, whether false or not, of security. "It's my mum. She got so mad when Dad and I got home because I wouldn't obey her and come back as soon as I had lunch. Then I stepped out of line and told her that… that I had seen you and you bought me lunch because she forbade it. So, she shouted so loud that I felt ill," Harry gasped and made a face that could only be described as furious, which had Hermione seen it, would have her scared beyond belief. "Then my Dad stepped in and hugged me, I think mostly to drown out the scream… but then he asked me to go with him and live with my grandparents for a while. I agreed. So, I doubt I'll be able to make that date soon unless I can persuade my dad or Grandpa to drive me back there for it." She sniffed again and clutched the otter tighter. "I'm so, so, sorry Harry. I wish I could have told you before it got too out of hand for me to deal with. I just-,"

"Hey, hey. It's absolutely fine. Just knowing that you're ok is enough for me. Although, if I can, I'd like to meet your grandparents. They seem really special, especially from the stuff you told me about them." Harry said in a calm voice. Just hearing it made Hermione feel more comfortable and safe. "Well, I think that we both need some sleep. It sounds like you've had a taxing day, so please, get some rest and feel better in the morning. I'll call you around ten, alright. That's really the only time I have a break until work ends. See you soon. Love you." He hung up.

Hermione had just experienced the two little words that changed her outlook on the situation. Why should her mother dictate who she loved? Harry loved her, she loved him back, so why should it matter what she thinks? 'It doesn't matter what she thinks. She doesn't care. If she did, she wouldn't be like this.' Hermione Granger could have one of the two in her life. It was decided.

She chose Harry.

The minutes bled into hours as Hermione lay on her back, clutching that stuffed otter toy. Her fingers danced over the soft imitation fur that felt softer than the pillow she was resting her heavy head on top of. All of her pent up stress and anger had nowhere to go but back around her head. But even so, with the numerous events that threatened to make their way to her focus, only one stood out among the rest. Harry. That sweet, kind little boy that she had met in year 7, all those years ago, was now the person that loved her most in life. Her father was here, as were her grandparents, and although they were all married, Hermione felt like no one in the world had the same connection that she and that man had. So, once she nodded off, with that silly little otter clasped in her embrace, it was just Harry that permeated her dreams.

It was in their second year at high school that things changed drastically for Harry. He grew a few inches over three terms, his voice started to get deeper and above all, he made more friends. Neville had been there for him since primary school, hell, since they were both in nursery. Now, he had found another person who thought like him, felt normal and was kinder than everyone else. Hermione Granger was indeed a strange case. After constantly being bullied by the older students, she had felt alone, as had he, because only Neville would talk to him. He supposed it was because he had no parents and therefore, no basis for a friendly relationship, as the only people he had grown up with were his whale of a cousin and Neville. Now, after the conversation that he had with Hermione, he remembered something that their Religious Education teacher had said. "Don't pity the dead, pity the living, and above all, pity those that live without love. For it is the most powerful force known to mankind." Mr Dumbledore was an odd and eccentric old man but had been correct, for all that Harry felt now, was love for Hermione. He felt more powerful than Superman, Iron Man and Darth Sidious rolled into one. Saying it all out loud made him more sure if he felt it possible. Hermione was perfect. An angel personified. Her radiant smile, wondrously beautiful eyes and the hair that was once the part of herself that she disliked most, now a staple of her charm were just some of the reasons that she made him feel this way. Often, Harry would be just sitting around, doing work, or watching TV, when the thought of her would pop into his head, just for a fleeting moment. And it would stay there, threatening to take his mind and most of the time, he would be able to lose himself happily to this dream. Now, it could finally be a reality, where thinking of her and loving her weren't going to make him end up with one less friend.

Here's to hoping that I don't suddenly get a case of the lockdown blues and make everything quite this sad. However, as many people in my life can attest to, I am a MAJOR fan of romance in stories so I love developing it here. I look for it in every piece of media I consume. Jake and Amy (B99), Katniss and Peeta/Gale (The Hunger Games), Thomas and Brenda don't kill me (The Maze Runner Series) etc. So, when I have the chance to develop a potential relationship for a franchise I like, you better believe that I'm going to take it.

Quite obviously too, I am not a fan of the canon Harry Potter pairings and if you've read my bio, you'll know that I despise the Cursed Child and everything it represents. Now, I don't agree with most of J.K Rowling's social media presence and political nonsense, but I do think that she was onto something when she said that she originally had Harry and Hermione set out to be a couple. They balance each other out nicely. But that is a topic for another time.

Thanks for reading and Happy New Year! For whenever it is for you at least. This should be out by around 7:00pm on the 30th of December (GMT).

Also, kudos to the people who understood the Kung Fu Panda reference, one of the best animated movies of all time. I said it, so sue me!