Summary: Going away to school changes a person, whether she realizes it or not. Hermione Granger already had a few enormous strikes against her. As she returns to her Muggle home after completing her fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hermione begins to realize that the person her parents expect her to be no longer exists.

A/N: Some of the events are taken directly from the 4th book. Others are taken from implications therein. There are also a few direct quotes. Keep your eyes open.

Building Barriers: The bricks may be of misunderstanding, but the mortar is of love.

Chapter 1: Gathering Supplies

Hermione stepped off of the Hogwarts Express, steam from the engine flooding her nostrils. The hot air singed her nasal passages and tingled the back of her windpipe, stopping her breath. Just as Ron jumped down onto the platform, Hermione choked, a raspy cough parting her lips.

"You okay?" asked Ron.

"Fine," she gulped, attempting to rewet her parched throat. "I wonder what Harry's doing. Wasn't he right behind us?"

"Yeah," answered Ron, helping her lift her trunk onto the sparkling black platform.

"I suppose he's not overly anxious to return home…er…to his Aunt and Uncle's?" Hermione offered as students grumbled while attempting to push their way around Ron, who--while toting Pig's cage in one hand and his trunk in the other--successfully clogged traffic. He was still standing directly in front of the step leading off of the train.

"Yeah," replied Ron absentmindedly as Hermione moved to pull him out of the way. Her hand gripping his forearm remained there even after she managed to move Ron, and as she realized the situation's awkwardness, she released her hold, mumbled a quick "sorry," and returned to where her things stood, slightly away from the train.

After a few minutes of watching Ron shuffle his feet and grumbling about having to wait, Hermione saw Harry emerge from the tunnels of the Hogwarts Express.

"What took you so long?" inquired Ron, "and where are Fred and George?" Ron glanced backward over his shoulder.

"They're coming. We took our time trodding extra hard on Malfoy and Git 1 and Git 2." Hermione noticed something funny in Harry's tone. Perhaps he answered a little too quickly. She shoved the feeling aside. After all, he certainly had the right to act a little queer.

"Ready?" she asked her friends just as Fred jumped down from the train. And taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the barrier.

After emerging, Hermione looked toward her parents, who stood beaming in the middle of King's Cross Station. She waved at them before following Harry over to where his Aunt and Uncle stood--both bearing sour expressions. They would never have survived what Harry's been through, thought Hermione hotly, surprising herself. Yet they treat him like…

Hermione's thoughts were cut off by Mrs. Weasley, who stood nearby, engulfing Harry in a hug only a mother could give and promising to send for him. The young witch waited until Ron, too, had clapped Harry on the back and said goodbye before she moved forward.

"‛Bye, Harry!'" squeaked Hermione, and acting on a predetermined impulse, she kissed him on the cheek.

Harry blinked at her in surprise. She simply smiled in return and waved farewell to Ron. The invitation is for you too, of course dear," added Mrs. Weasley with a smile.

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione was incredibly glad to be on good terms with Ron's mother after that fiasco caused by Rita Skeeter's article. Once again reminded of the sneaking bug, Hermione gripped the unbreakable jar tightly and withdrew it from her schoolbag.

Then, taking a deep breath, Hermione braced herself, and wheeled her cart toward the spot where her parents waited, glowing with pride at their only child.

Without preamble, her mother flung both arms around Hermione. Hermione's face pressed against the rainbow pattern of Mrs. Granger's work shirt, which felt familiar and foreign at the same time.

"Your mother couldn't wait to see you. She's been driving me mad for the past few weeks, counting down the days until we'd come to pick you up." Hermione smiled crookedly, not knowing how to respond. She expected this reaction—it was the same every year. Of course, what with her studies and the trouble in the wizarding world, Hermione didn't have much time to think about it. But nevertheless, she longed to see her parents, too…didn't she?

After an eternity, Mrs. Granger finally released her daughter, and Hermione moved over to give her dad the same courtesy. His hugs were usually swift, but this time he held onto her a little longer than normal. When she was finally freed, Hermione looked across the station. And giving Harry and Ron a final wave, she turned and followed her parents out of the station.

Emerging into the sunlight, Hermione shook her jar as a reminder to herself (and also to aggravate the anxious beetle Rita) and spoke to her parents. "I just need to finish this one last thing before we leave. It won't take me a minute."

"What is it?" Her mother's question prevented Hermione from taking even one step.

"Oh nothing," Hermione waved a hand and attempted to shift the jar out of the sight of her Muggle parents. It wasn't that she didn't want to tell them, it's just that the less questions that they asked, the easier her task would be.

Her father spoke next. "Alright," he said, growing slightly impatient, "but don't take too long. I want to beat the traffic out of here."

"I'll be quick," she nodded.

Checking to see that her father gripped her trunk and her mother kept her firm hold on Crookshanks' cage, Hermione rounded the corner to stand behind a sign on a deserted stretch of pavement. Hermione tapped on the glass jar. "You make sure to keep your word," Hermione whispered while sending darting glances to either side of her, "Because I certainly will." The beetle Rita shuffled her wings, signaling agitation as a result of her forced compliance. Setting her mouth in a firm line reminiscent of Professor McGonagall's, Hermione unscrewed the lid.

Immediately, the beetle unfolded her wings and lifted off from the tuft of grass on which she had been resting. Restricted from flying for longer than usual, Rita bounced off of the sides of the jar before managing to make her escape into the clear London sky. The witch watched Rita fly away into the Muggle street with a sigh of satisfaction. The "journalist" would have to keep quiet, or else Hermione would reveal her secret. And as ruthless Rita's pen was, Hermione strongly doubted that Rita's acid quill had prepared her for a term in Azkaban.

As she walked back toward her parents, who stood next to their now-packed station wagon, Hermione placed the cap on her unbreakable jar and smiled, also capping her fourth year at Hogwarts.

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(U.S. ed. p.34)

A/N: Yes, I know it's shorter than I wanted, and not much happens, but I needed to get this out of the way. And it was the most logical place to break the story. Oh, and I know "predetermined impulse" is an oxymoron, but it just seemed to fit with Hermione's personality. Only she would act on a predetermined impulse. She plans everything—even her impulses. Reviews are appreciated, & constructive criticism would be most helpful.