a/n1: Hello my dear readers! I'm back from my excavation and I actually had some time to write! But the internet connection was shitty to say the least...Anyway, here we are. This chapter is double the normal length, but there simply was no natural break possible! reynardinepttr continues to be my amazing beta reader. Enjoy!
12th June 1998 18:37
Hermione watched her parents closely while she pretended to pore over the menu in their favourite restaurant. She already knew she would take the tomato soup and water. That gave her time to think about how it was possible for them to break through the spell. Hermione had of course noticed the cast on her mother's ankle and she wondered whether pain could have been a catalyst. But that wouldn't explain her father remembering.
"Hermione, what are you having?" Helen asked as the waiter approached.
They ordered the same as always, tomato soup for Hermione, pasta with chicken breast and vegetables á la Provence for her parents. It was familiar but surreal and Hermione felt her breath speed up dangerously.
When their drinks came, Helen and Richard exchanged a meaningful look. Finally Helen rolled her eyes and turned back to Hermione.
"You're probably wondering why we remember," Helen stated calmly, her eyes steady on Hermione's but her hands fidgeting with her wine glass. "A few weeks ago I fell down the stairs in our house and it felt like déjà vu. In one moment I saw our house and when I blinked it was gone and there was a small girl at the foot of different stairs that caught me without touching me. I thought, 'Last time Hermione caught me'."
Hermione swallowed - so it was a repeated action that had caused the spell to break. Her father took over.
"Later in the hospital we realised we'd had the same thought. But we didn't remember any Hermione in Britain so we put it out of our minds," Richard explained, smiling sadly. "It was a week later that Helen got restless with her ankle and decided to sort through the attic. She asked me why there were piano scores in the one of the boxes and I replied that they were yours. We went through the rest of the stuff and found a few other things. Books, mainly, and two letters."
"We wondered why we didn't remember anything," Helen took over, just as their food arrived. "So we started brainstorming, writing down everything we remembered and comparing notes. Richard remembered the professor who came to tell us about your school had talked about Obliviation. I remembered that you came home grieving last year. You seemed rattled and jumped at every little sound."
"So we assumed that someone erased you from our memory, but they didn't too thorough a job since we started remembering," Richard said, taking a sip from his wine. "We checked with the British embassy and they told us about the Grangers. We decided that we had to find you, to make sense of this situation."
Hermione felt her hands starting to tingle and looked down in surprise. Her right hand clutched her wand tightly and her left hand was clenched into a fist. She put down her wand and shook them out carefully. Trying to breathe more deeply she grabbed her purse and summoned a Calming Draught. Hermione's only thought was 'Not again, not now.' She swallowed the potion quickly.
"I- This is so-," Hermione took another deep breath, concentrating on the warmth of the Calming Draught. "I'm so sorry," she finally whispered, tears raising into her eyes.
Helen reached out to her. "Whatever it is, you can tell us and we'll try to understand."
"I did the spell," Hermione whispered, her voice breaking. "I needed to protect you and I thought-" a sob tore from her then. "I thought you'd be safest not knowing who I am. I'm so sorry. I was blinded by fear and grief."
Helen and Richard flinched and exchange a quick look. "Safe from what, love?" Richard asked quietly.
Hermione swallowed. "Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. They were targeting me because of my involvement in the resistance and I thought- I thought you losing all memory of me was the lesser evil."
"But why did we go away?" Helen asked, signalling the waiter for a refill.
"I made you," Hermione confessed, voice barely above a whisper, eyes firmly fixed on the soup she hadn't touched since her parents started talking.
"Why?" Helen asked, tears palpable in her voice. But she stretched out a hand towards her daughter, which Hermione gladly took.
"To increase your chances of survival," she breathed. "They wouldn't look for you in Australia."
Helen brought her hand in front of her mouth. Richard put one arm around his wife and stretched the other out to his daughter, who took it as well.
"What was so bad that you felt that you had to do that?" Richard asked, his voice rough and he was obviously trying to keep his tears at bay.
"I don't even know where to start," Hermione admitted. "There was so much that I didn't tell you, because you'd have tried to take me away. Rightfully so, probably." She gently rubbed her thumb across her parents' hands. "If you allow me to take the spell from you it will be easier to explain."
"Can you do that safely?" Helen whispered, her eyes big and red-rimmed.
Hermione nodded. "But just in case I'll ask a friend, who is a healer, to be there. She'll be able to answer some of your questions too."
Helen sniffled. "When can we do that? I want to know as soon as possible."
"Draco will have told her that you're back, so she'll probably already be waiting for my owl," Hermione said quietly. "I think I'm too overwhelmed tonight, but if she's free we can do it tomorrow morning."
Richard squeezed her hand. "Thank you, Hermione. I hope that will make things clearer."
"I'm so sorry," Hermione whispered again, clutching her parents' hands as if her life depended on it. "I was so stupid, I should have asked you. Not just decided…"
Helen moved to her side without letting her hand go. "Shh, my poor girl, I know you would never do something deliberately cruel. You're just a child, and you can make it right again. It will be alright."
Hermione melted into her mother's embrace, whispering apologies over and over again.
Suddenly, there was a loud crash across the restaurant and a baby started crying loudly. Helen jumped at the crash and looked for its source. But when she turned back to her daughter, her arms were empty. Hermione was wedged into the corner behind the greenery, her wand raised, her eyes wide and staring far into the distance. When Helen tried to scoot closer Hermione fixed that blank stare on her and raised her wand, the defiant tilt of her head in hard contrast to the trembles wracking her body.
Richard then lowered himself to his knees in front of her, his hands raised and a small smile fixed on his lips. "Hey, Minnie, do you know who I am?" he asked quietly.
Their daughter fixed her gaze on him and nodded hesitantly. "Da?"
"That's right, Minnie," Richard said calmly.
Helen noticed a waitress approaching and slowly stood up to intercept the woman without scaring Hermione more. She couldn't think about the reasons for her daughter's behaviour, but she knew PTSD when she saw it.
"Are you alright, over here?" the waitress asked, trying to look over Helen's shoulder where Richard and Hermione were sitting and talking quietly.
"My daughter had a panic attack," Helen said. "Do you have a room for private parties that is a bit calmer?"
The waitress nodded, compassion in her eyes. "Yes, of course. I will make sure nobody disturbs you. Does she have a favourite dessert or biscuit? Something familiar and sweet often helps my husband."
Helen remembered something. "Hot chocolate with cinnamon would be perfect."
The waitress nodded. "The room is to your left, down the corridor, the first door on the right side. I'll knock when the drink is ready. Something else for you and your husband?"
"No thanks," Helen smiled at the woman gratefully.
When she turned around she found Richard and Hermione getting to their feet. Hermione was pale as a ghost, her eyes still blown wide, but at least she seemed to be back with them. Helen grabbed their bags and gave Hermione her purse, who then clutched it close to her chest.
The private room was smaller and decorated in the Mediterranean style, like the rest of the restaurant. It was flooded by light thanks to the big windows that led out to the back yard. There was a couch to one side, with a small coffee table in front of it and Richard escorted Hermione there.
Helen puffed up the cushions behind Hermione a bit and smiled when her girl immediately relaxed into them. A soft knock sounded and Richard rose to get it so Helen could put her arm around her daughter instead.
"Here, hot chocolate with cinnamon," Richard offered Hermione the mug and she took it carefully with one hand and sniffed it. The other was still clutching her purse and her wand.
Helen gathered her daughter closer and started humming an old lullaby she barely remembered singing. It worked well, together with the hot drink and when the tears came Helen just pulled out a handkerchief and told Hermione to let it all out. Richard gently took the empty mug from her hands and set it down on the table. Hermione turned into his arms, but pulled her mother's hands with her, letting herself be held by both her parents.
Helen met Richard's eyes over Hermione's riotous curls, and they were just as desperately sad as her own had to be.
Helen decided they had to know what happened in the last year and who did this to their daughter.
21:58
Hermione had taken nearly an hour to calm down, but her parents had assured her over and over again, that it was okay, that they were there and that they weren't angry at her. If she'd had any energy left she would probably have been embarrassed by her display of emotion. But she was so very drained. Too drained in fact to write a letter to Andromeda, so she decided to just floo over when she was back at Grimmauld Place.
She had told her parents the address before they had returned to their hotel for the night, insisting that she could walk home alone. Hermione had needed the time to think. She had thought the attacks had stopped after Draco's trial and so far nobody but Narcissa had known that she had them at all. But her parents had seemed as if they dealt with something like that every day. Hermione knew that her parents, especially her father liked to keep up with the current psychological developments. So maybe he had read about something like this. She would need to ask him the next morning.
Hermione greeted Tinna before flooing over to Tonks Cottage. Andromeda and Narcissa were in the living room when she arrived, but Draco, Teddy and Lucius were nowhere to be seen.
"Hermione, I didn't expect you tonight," Andromeda said with a small smile, as she patted the seat next to her on the couch. "You look exhausted."
"I'll make tea," Narcissa put her book down and smiled at Hermione. When she walked past and into the hallway she squeezed Hermione's shoulder and she felt the rest of the tension leave her.
"You don't look too well," Andromeda remarked quietly, putting a hand on Hermione's arm.
"I don't feel so well," Hermione whispered with a chuckle.
Before Andromeda could react to that, Narcissa returned with a teapot and three mugs floating in front of her. The sharp smell of peppermint reached Hermione's nose and she smiled a bit.
"What happened?" Narcissa asked, sitting down on Hermione's other side.
"We were in the restaurant, and I had just told them that I did the spell and that I could reverse it," Hermione began, twisting her hands in her lap. "Something fell down, next thing I know my father is kneeling in front of me, talking quietly. He called me Minnie again."
Narcissa scooted closer and put an arm around her shoulders. "Oh dear, that must have been frightening."
Hermione nodded. "They let us into one of the back rooms so I could calm down, and my parents…they acted like they knew what was happening to me."
"Maybe they do?" Andromeda suggested gently. "Muggles did a lot of research into the mind and its reactions to stress and trauma."
Hermione nodded. "I'll ask them tomorrow. We want to reverse the spell tomorrow morning, is that okay for you?"
Andromeda nodded and gave Hermione one of the mugs with a smile. "Of course, where do you want to do it?"
"In Grimmauld Place," Hermione took a sip of the tea and smiled at the warmth that grew in her chest. "It's the easiest to reach for them."
Andromeda promised to be there at ten in the morning and they fell into a companionable silence. When her mug was empty, Hermione made her excuses and left for the Black townhouse. In her room she took out a piece of parchment, writing everything down that had happened from the moment Draco had met her in the Leaky Cauldron. So much of it felt surreal and dreamlike.
o0o
13th June 1998 8:34
The next morning dawned bright and early, the first rays of sun prodding Hermione awake from her slumped over position. She stretched and looked around. With a startled curse she realised she had fallen asleep writing yesterday's events down. The last paragraphs were basically gibberish and the quill was still in her hand.
Hermione sighed and walked over to the mirror. As expected, she had ink in her face and she vanished it quickly. It wasn't the first time she had fallen asleep over taking notes or writing an essay - especially in third year, it had once been a very common occurrence.
With a sigh Hermione cast a quick Tempus charm and was gratified to see that at least she hadn't overslept. Her parents would arrive in an hour and she needed to shower and eat breakfast first.
When Hermione finally came downstairs, her curls still damp and bouncy even though she had applied three high effect drying charms, Tinna had already laid out breakfast in the kitchen. Surprisingly Ron was still there.
"Good morning, before you ask: I didn't oversleep, we're doing a night excursion," Ron said with a grin. "I'm so excited I couldn't go back to sleep again."
Hermione laughed. "That's good to hear. And you, Harry?"
"It's impossible to sleep if someone," he looked very pointedly at Ron, "is singing Celestina Warbeck in the shower, loudly."
"Oi, leave me alone, it's not every day I get to go on a night mission with Kingsley!" Ron exclaimed, the laughter in his eyes at contrast with his words.
"Good morning, Miss Hermione," Tinna greeted when she entered the kitchen from the pantry. "You seemed to be in quite a hurry yesterday evening."
Hermione sat down at the table heavily and started putting together her breakfast. Both Ron and Harry stilled in their seats.
"'Mione, what happened?" Ron asked quietly. "If the ferret-"
"No," Hermione said quickly. "Draco was lovely, don't worry."
Ron looked still dubious, but Harry nodded encouragingly. "Then what happened?"
"My parents are back," Hermione said, her breath leaving her in a rush. "The spell I put on them broke enough for them to find the Leaky Cauldron, or at least its general position. Draco and I met them there. We went for dinner."
Harry stood up wordlessly and came around the table to hug Hermione, and Ron stretched out his hand after putting his fork down. Hermione leaned into Harry and squeezed Ron's hand gratefully. She felt a lot better than she had the evening before, and the comfort of her best friends was very welcome.
"How did it go?" Ron asked cautiously. Hermione remembered their first dinner with the Weasleys after the Battle and decided that it could have been much worse.
"Quite well, I got scared when someone dropped something though," Hermione smiled weakly. "But my parents took it rather in stride. They wanted to know the full story before they judged my actions. So I'll lift the charm, with Andromeda's assistance."
Harry let go of her but stayed close and pulled his plate over. "When will you do it?"
Hermione looked at the clock they had bought for the kitchen. "My parents will be here in fifteen minutes and Andromeda will arrive at ten o'clock. I wanted to give them a chance to get a look at the house first."
Tinna looked up at that. "Which room will Miss use? Should Tinna prepare refreshments?"
"The living room on ground level probably looks the most inviting," Harry said, contemplating their options.
"I agree," Hermione nodded with a small smile. "And some iced tea, without sugar, and maybe some slices of fruit would probably be perfect."
Tinna nodded, already going through the pantry in her mind. "Will they be staying for lunch?"
Hermione frowned. "I don't know how long it will take to lift the spell, but it might be possible."
"Alright, I will prepare double, if they're not staying you'll have something for dinner," Tinna said, already stepping into the pantry. "What flavour for the iced tea?"
Hermione smiled. "Surprise me!"
They finished their breakfast while chatting about Harry's plans to go up to Hogwarts today. For one he wanted to be out of the way, but he also wanted to see whether the Chamber of Secrets had taken any major hits and whether those had been taken care of. Ron decided to come along once they had greeted the Grangers and welcomed them into their home. They joked that the ground floor at least looked like a home by now, much of the dirt and grime already having been tackled by them before their fifth year.
"Pansy talked to Mrs Selwyn, by the way," Hermione said, putting the dirty dishes into the sink and setting the Cleaning Charm to work. "She'll be available to come by next Thursday and take a look around."
"And we're sure she had no Death Eater connection?" Harry asked dubiously, standing in the middle of the kitchen, marmalade and jam forgotten in his hands. Tinna sighed and snatched them before he could forget to hold them too.
"Very much so," Hermione nodded. "They fled to Italy before the war and only returned after…"
Ron sighed. "I don't like it, but 'Mione is right. I asked around at the Aurors' Office. The Selwyns haven't come up even once in anything related to the Death Eaters."
"Good, I-" Whatever Harry wanted to say was cut short by the doorbell. Hermione froze and Ron set off towards the front door with a smile to her.
"It'll be fine," he whispered reassuringly.
Harry nudged her forward when she made no move to greet her parents at the door. Finally Hermione's legs decided to work again and she made it to the door without stumbling.
"Remind me to invest in a chandelier or a window," Hermione said to Ron when she came to stand next to him. "It's way too dark in this hallway."
"Stumbled over the umbrella stand again, have you?" Ron teased her good-naturedly, and Hermione did the mature thing and stuck her tongue out at him.
Then she turned to her parents. "Mum, Dad, do you remember Ron? He's one of my best friends. Please come in!"
The Grangers shook Ron's hand and he stepped aside to let them over the threshold. Hermione smiled at Harry who was lingering by the stairs so they wouldn't block the hallway.
"And that's Harry," Hermione said with a smile. "It's his house, but we live here together."
"I admit, I just wanted the free help to make it presentable again," Harry said with a charming smile Hermione didn't know he possessed. Huh. "It's a pleasure to meet you properly, Mr and Mrs Granger."
Hermione saw Tinna and Kreacher standing at the bottom of the stairs to the kitchen and nodded encouragingly. "And I'd like to introduce you to Tinna and Kreacher, who are invaluable to keeping us fed and cleaning the house. Without them we'd be nowhere near the level we're at now."
"You flatter us, Miss Hermione," Tinna said, blushing and smiling. "But it's good to hear our work is appreciated."
Richard's eyebrows shot up and Helen had to swallow a gasp at the small house elf. But Tinna took it in stride.
"I'm very happy to meet Miss Hermione's parents, who raised her to be an intelligent and compassionate person," Tinna stretched out her hand to be shaken, and the Grangers carefully shook it in turn. "I'm a house elf. As soon as your memory returns you'll understand better, I'm sure Miss Hermione told you about my people. If you need anything while you're here, don't hesitate to call for me. Just speaking my name will be enough."
Kreacher kept at the back, his eyes distrustful and he made no move to talk to the Grangers. Hermione realised she should have warned him about muggles coming to his home, but she had barely thought of telling Harry and Ron.
"Thank you, Miss Tinna," Helen said politely, even though confusion was written all over her face. Hermione sighed; once her parents remembered fully she'd have to tell them what she learned about house elves while they were gone.
Harry and Ron said their goodbyes and left for the front door while Hermione led her parents to the living room. Andromeda would be arriving soon and she wanted her parents to have already settled down by then.
Tinna appeared with the fruit and iced tea, putting the two trays down on the side table. She had prepared apple slices, honey melon pieces as well as fresh strawberries with cream and raspberries. There were small forks and plates for everyone.
"If you'd like something else feel free to ask," Tinna said with a proud smile. Hermione knew the elf lady loved seeing people's wonder at her creations and arrangements.
The Grangers nodded and thanked Tinna before she left the room again. Finally Richard reached for a plate and filled it with fruit.
"Kreacher didn't seem too happy to see us," Helen observed, stealing a slice of apple from her husband's plate.
Hermione nodded, pouring herself some iced tea. "To say his former mistress was prejudiced against non-magical people would be like saying Hitler didn't like Jews."
Helen gasped. "Oh goodness, that sounds awful."
"He only stopped treating me badly after Harry ordered him to, and it took him a long time to be civil to me," Hermione admitted. "He is also very old, and has heard most of his life that muggles and muggleborns aren't to be trusted. That had quite a big impression on him. But these days he makes an effort to be at least polite."
"How old is he?" Richard asked curiously and Hermione shrugged.
"He doesn't know exactly, but he remembers the later parts of the fourteenth century," she answered, smiling at her parents' surprise.
"Well, he doesn't look a day over eighty," Richard joked, eating the last of his fruit.
"The friend who will assist you, who are they?" Helen asked, changing the topic.
"Andromeda Tonks is a healer, she is very good and was trained in one of the best schools in the country," Hermione told them. "She became a friend after the war, because she is raising Harry's godson after his parents died. She's Teddy's grandma. And she took in her sister, whose son Draco you met yesterday."
"Did they lose their home during the…war?" Richard had apparently problems wrapping his head around that.
Hermione smiled mirthlessly. "No, they didn't. The story is long and complicated, I'll explain when you remember more."
Right then Tinna arrived with Andromeda and more fruit, refilling the emptying serving plates. The Grangers stood to greet the newcomer and Hermione made quick introductions.
"I'm just here to help Hermione, should she hit a blockade that she doesn't know how to deal with," Andromeda explained, sitting down next to Hermione. "But I trust that she won't need my help."
Hermione tried to smile, but the nerves started to get to her. "It shouldn't take long. I didn't remove your memories, just put them behind walls in a part of your mind you weren't able to reach. So all I have to do is to take down these walls. Since they seem to be crumbling already they should go easily."
Her parents nodded, apprehension clear in their faces and body language, but Hermione sucked in a deep breath and ignored it.
"Legilimens," she whispered and entered her mother's mind. She didn't look at the memories and the information surrounding her, just searched for the walls she had set up in the back.
As expected Hermione found them easily, and they had cracks. She carefully tapped each brick with her wand to vanish it and stepped back quickly when the flood of memories was freed. They all slotted back into the empty spaces Hermione had seen on her way and she left Helen's brain quickly.
As Hermione resurfaced she had to fight a momentary lightheadedness, Andromeda put a new glass of iced tea in her hands and Richard did the same for Helen on the other couch.
"That was quick," he remarked, sounding somewhat unsure.
"It was easily done," Hermione said with a sad smile. "The fall must have been quite impactful."
Helen chuckled weakly, leaning back against the cushions. "I might need a minute."
Hermione nodded and smiled at her father. "Dad?"
Richard shrugged. "Might as well get over with it."
The process was just as quick and easy as it had been with her mother and Hermione felt relief coursing through her veins and make her giddy. Andromeda did a quick check of everyone's vitals and declared them tired but healthy.
While the Grangers worked through their new old memories, Hermione and Andromeda chatted about the set up for the new division of Malfoy Apothecary. They had found a building that was accessible from both wizarding and muggle London and the first scientists and healers had responded to the advertisement. The biggest difficulty had been convincing the board of governors that the project could succeed profitably. But Lucius had bribed, threatened and prodded until they all had signed, and if anyone noticed that two of the governors had resigned the moment the decision was made nobody seemed too upset.
When Hermione looked over to her parents, she saw them smiling proudly at her. A small tendril of pure happiness wound itself around Hermione's heart and she blushed a little.
"You've grown up so much," Richard said with a smile. "It's really good to see you."
"Hermione, you promised to tell us why you send us away when we got our memories back," Helen said quietly. "I hate to bring it up now, but…"
"You're right, Mum," Hermione said, taking a deep breath. "I will start from the beginning, from the first time I thought about sending you away: the day I returned from the Quidditch World Cup."
Hermione told them about the muggles being tortured by Death Eaters, about Voldemort's return. About Umbridge, the rising attacks on muggleborns and Order members. She showed them the scar from the fight against Dolohov in the Department of Mysteries. She told them about training to fight, mentally and physically. Learning Occlumency and Legilimency with Ginny and Luna, because Ginny wanted to be able to keep Voldemort out and Luna loved learning. Hermione talked about the fight at the end of the school year, about Dumbledore's death.
Helen and Richard were growing paler with every second and Hermione had begun to tremble. But she couldn't stop, not now.
So she talked about Voldemort's ascent to power. The knowledge that he would hunt down every last person in order to hurt her and therefore Harry. She summarised most of the following months, living on the run, constantly moving to evade the Snatchers.
When she came to Easter, her voice finally broke and her glass nearly fell to the ground. Andromeda caught it with a wordless spell in the last minute and levitated it to the side table.
"What happened at Easter?" Helen asked, voice barely above a whisper and clutching her father's hand.
Hermione couldn't form the words. She couldn't just tell her parents that she had been tortured! That…that would break them!
"May I?" Andromeda asked her quietly and Hermione gave her a slight nod. "On Easter Hermione, Harry and Ronald were captured by the Snatchers. They were brought to Malfoy Manor where my sister tortured Hermione for information on an artefact she had with her."
"Your…sister?" Helen asked horrified and Hermione nodded, finding her voice again.
"Bellatrix was mad, and until a few weeks ago it seemed that Andromeda was the odd one out," Hermione explained, her voice hoarse from speaking for such a long time. "But Narcissa Malfoy had simply realised the truth too late. And by then she couldn't get out."
"Malfoy?" Richard asked. "As in Draco Malfoy and Malfoy Manor? Did they help you?"
"Not back then," Hermione shook her head. "They were terrified of Bella and Voldemort who was living in their house at the time. But a month later, at the Battle of Hogwarts, the Malfoys switched sides. First Draco, then Narcissa and finally Lucius, if only to preserve his life."
"Wait, didn't you call the young man Draco yesterday?" Richard asked, his eyes narrowed. "And the boy who bullied you at school?"
Hermione blushed. "He changed, a lot. I saved his life after the Battle of Hogwarts, they wanted to execute him. Nobody had told them that he had changed sides before the battle."
"They tried to execute a boy?" Helen asked, shocked. Hermione wondered whether she should tell them that they executed a few of Draco's house mates, that the youngest had just turned seventeen.
"After his preliminary hearing, which Hermione did beautifully, he and his parents lived with me," Andromeda interjected, saving Hermione. "I taught them about muggles and their culture, that they're as far from the pitchfork brandishing mob that we were taught about as possible. I know that muggles still have troubles accepting even their own if they have a different skin colour, but the witch hunts are luckily history."
"They didn't know that?" Richard asked in surprise.
Hermione snorted. "They know nothing outside the wizarding world. Pansy didn't even know what World War Two had done to the muggle world." At her parents confused frowns she elaborated. "There was a wizarding war going on at the same time and Pansy thought that had been the only thing causing trouble."
Helen and Richard looked at Hermione with matching horrified faces. Hermione stood up and knelt in front of them. "Mum, Dad, I'm learning. I wanted to protect both of you from evil forces and I deeply regret that I didn't talk to you about it."
"Oh dear," Helen whimpered. "You shouldn't have to even think about something like that, much less do it. Why didn't you ever say something?"
"I didn't want you to take me away, I wanted to fight," Hermione whispered. "I'm so, so damned sorry."
Richard gathered her in a tight hug. "Come here, love. Shh, it's okay."
Helen put her arms around Hermione too. Hermione buried her head in the crook of her mother's neck, breathing her scent in. It was different. She had always smelled like roses, now she smelled of citrus and something spicy. But Hermione wasn't overly bothered, because beneath it there was still the omnipresent smell of dentistry: peppermint.
"I think I'll excuse myself now," Andromeda said gently. "I'm sure you have much to say."
Hermione looked up and nodded. "Thank you for your support, it meant a lot to me."
Andromeda smiled and left via floo. Hermione huddled back into the embrace of her parents. "The war, that's the reason for your panic attack in the restaurant yesterday?" Richard asked quietly, petting Hermione's hair the way he did when she was younger.
She nodded quickly. "But I haven't had an attack like that in two weeks, I thought it was over."
"It will take longer than that, I'm afraid," Helen said, gathering her even closer. "Post-traumatic stress disorder isn't something that vanishes on its own like that."
"Post-traumatic stress disorder?" Hermione asked, looking up at her mum.
Richard explained. "After a traumatic event, or a series of traumatic events the mind needs some time to readjust to normal life. Sometimes it isn't able to without help, and then it will develop certain symptoms like panic attacks, flashbacks, insomnia and nightmares. Survivors of natural catastrophes get it, or soldiers. It's only been added to the index recently."
"But it's been known for quite a while," Helen took over. "They called it shell shock, or Gulf War syndrome."
Hermione looked at her parents with big eyes. "So, it's…it's okay? I'm not just…"
"Weak?" her mother supplied with a sad smile. "No, it just means your mind has trouble dealing with what happened."
"Is that bad?" Hermione whispered fearfully. "What can I do against it?"
"Normally I'd say you should go to a psychologist," Richard said smiling sardonically. "But I doubt that there are any in your world."
"No, they are very bad at psychology in general," Hermione muttered. "But what can I do if I can't go to a psychologist?"
Helen and Richard exchanged a look. "You could try what they told our neighbour Jeff after he survived a tsunami. Write it down, talk about it and try to accept that it happened. I know it sounds impossible, but Jeff swears after some time he was actually doing better."
Hermione settled down between her parents. "And the panic attacks?"
"There is an exercise that you can do if you have an attack," Helen explained. "We did a workshop on dealing with disruptive psychological problems for our patients. During a panic attack it is often important to ground oneself, so this method will help you to do that. Name five things you can see, four things you can feel, three things you can hear, two things you can smell and one good thing about yourself."
"Alternatively you can ask yourself some questions about your situation," Richard took over. "Like: Where am I? What day is it? Which time is it? Which season is it? They sound silly, but they give your mind something to focus on besides the panic."
Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense. Are there books about this?"
"Some," Helen said. "But you're more likely to find books on the symptoms than the PTSD itself, since it is a relatively new diagnosis."
"Thank you," Hermione smiled at both of them. "Dad…" she trailed off, losing the courage to ask.
"What is it, love?" Richard asked with a kind smile.
"Would you do my hair?" Hermione asked quietly, barely daring to breathe in case they hadn't forgiven her that much yet.
"Of course! I'd love to," Richard smiled brightly. "You didn't let me since you returned home that first Christmas!"
Hermione blushed. "I tried to wear them like the other girls at school."
Richard laughed. "That couldn't have been easy! I remember when Deidra tried to do that when we were still kids, she gave up after a week."
Helen grinned and gently tapped her daughter's nose. "Knowing our Hermione she was more stubborn than that."
"I became really good at French braids," Hermione said with a small smile and turned so her father could reach her hair.
"I'll need a brush and eight hair bands," Richard said, running his hands through her hair. "You haven't cut it in some time."
"I didn't trust either of the boys with a cutting charm near my hair and…I didn't have the energy to do it," Hermione admitted.
"I wonder if Chiara is still around," Helen said, looking at Hermione's hair in contemplation. "She'd probably take you without an appointment too."
"Chiara's been around for twenty years, that woman isn't going to stop before she keels over," Richard joked.
"Well then," Helen stopped for a moment, and cocked her head to the side. "Why don't we go and see whether she has time to give you the full works?"
Hermione chewed on her lip. Chiara had been her hair dresser since before she could remember. She always claimed that she was the only hair dresser in all of London to know how to deal with mixed race hair, since she had to learn for her own daughters'. Hermione always loved visiting Chiara, the loud and brash woman putting her at ease for some reason. But she hadn't been there over a year and she wasn't sure whether it would be the same. So much had changed, after all.
Just when Helen opened her mouth again, Hermione spoke up. "I'd- I'd like to."
Richard beamed at her and Helen grinned broadly. "Then it's settled, we'll have lunch and then we'll drive to Chiara's salon."
a/n2: So, what do you think? I hope you like the Grangers! At the moment they're very much focused on their obviously hurt daughter. What do you think will happen when they had some time to settle down?
I'll have a busy month moving in with my best friend, term papers and going to London, but as always I'll try to write! I also have a new exciting project in the works for Christmas...See you soon! :)