The Problem With Growing Up

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no profit.

An: Hermione deals with her parents. An Awkward Snape. And a repenting Malfoy? What? Read and Review. But most of all, Enjoy!

Hermione shifted nervously as the kitchen door swung shut behind her. Her parents stayed huddled around their tea cups, their bodies rigid in the chairs. Hermione took no comfort from the sight and had to steal her nerves to keep from bolting from the room. Silently she seats herself across from them, all too aware and yet ignoring the fact that she was putting deliberate distance between her and them.

"You couldn't have been normal." Her father grumbled out and as though she'd been struck, Hermione flinched back in her seat.

"John!" Her mother scolded the man, though Hermione could tell that she didn't exactly disagree.

John Granger slammed his fist onto the table. "It's the truth! You were never normal, always with this book or that book, and we could have dealt with that! But this, this is beyond anything we ever asked for when we took you in. We thought we were giving a home to a normal little girl, not a…not a witch." He spat the word as a curse. "And now this…"

He ran a hand through his hair and Hermione knew that was his way of stuffing his anger and disappointment. She'd seen enough of it over the past few years to know the tell. "Do you think I asked for this?" She whispered tearfully. "I never asked for any of this, the only thing I ask is that my parents love me for who I am, like parents are supposed to do." She wiped at her tears angrily.

"Well now that's the problem, isn't it?" John spoke distantly, coldly. "We aren't your parents. We could never be the parents of a witch."

Hermione gasped, looking to her mother for help but the woman wouldn't even meet her gaze. She stood and made to leave, only to spin and slam both of her tiny fist into the table. "You're right, you're not my parents. You're only the people who raised me, cared for me and pretended to love me for my whole life, right?"

Harry fidgeted nervously as he fingered the pictures of Hermione that the Grangers had on their mantle. The room was oddly quiet and no one spoke to the other, everyone it seemed was worried for Hermione, and rightly so. Harry had it in his mind to march in there and demand that they love their daughter, but he couldn't force them anymore than he could force the Dudley's to love him.

"She's fond of…pink?" The dry voice caused Harry to jump and almost drop the picture of an eight year old Hermione.

Harry shook his head and looked to Snape awkwardly, "Excuse me, Sir?" He frowned, but prided himself on not stuttering.

Snape sighed at having to repeat himself, but otherwise kept his gaze on the pictures of his Goddaughter, and not on Harry himself, as if he could convince himself that if he didn't look at Harry then he really wasn't having this conversation with him. "Is she fond of pink?" He gestured toward the pictures, where Hermione indeed did display a lot of pink.

Harry frowned, but laughed at that. "Oh, no, she hates it." His laugh turned genuine as he thought of his friend. "Mrs. Weasley tried giving her a pink jumper this past Christmas, it ended up in the Black Lake. Purely by accident of course." Harry smirked down at the picture in his hands, conveniently missing the small smile that twisted at the Potion Master's lips. "Hermione's mum, um Mrs. Granger, didn't like Hermione wearing too many 'boy' colors. She liked to dress her in pink." He paused. "Hermione likes purple, um lavender…and of course she's grown fond of red, blue too, she likes blue. Hates pink." Again Harry laughed for the absurdness of the conversation.

"Unicorns." Again, Harry jumped at the sudden voice, but was grateful that his Godfather intervened. Snape frowned and looked to Sirius; his scowl was deep but curiosity burned in his black eyes. Harry felt acceptance start within him and when he looked to Sirius, he found them same in his Godfather's eyes. "She's fascinated with them."

Harry nodded, "It's because growing up all the Muggle fairytales told of them, and she never thought them to be real, but when she found out that she was a witch…and then her first year at Hogwarts Hagrid showed her them." Harry shrugged and licked his lips. "She hates flying, she doesn't like not having control, and flying makes her feel like she has none." He added and watched cautiously as his Professor absorbed the information.

"And she has an odd affinity of a very old house elf." Sirius added wryly, him and Harry sharing a small laugh. "She practically let's Kreacher dote on her, as much as Hermione will allow anyways."

"She doesn't like to be taken care of?" Snape asked softly, though his face was still a defensive wall that Harry and Sirius couldn't see past.

Harry shook his head. "Not if she can help it. She's not too fond of needing help and she's horrid at asking for it, but I think that's because she hardly ever needs it." Harry shrugged and scratched the back of his neck. It was one of the most awkward situations he'd ever been in, but this wasn't about him and Harry could see that. This was about Hermione. Harry might have hated Snape once upon a time, and Sirius and Snape had much of the same relationship, but now they all had one thing in common; Hermione.

He couldn't predict how much that's change their relationships, but open animosity toward one another was definitely out, even if only for Hermione's sake. They all knew that she'd need as much support…and family as she could get.

"Potter. Black." Snape nodded to the two wizards and marched off to take a corner and wait for Hermione to make an appearance. It was, perhaps, the first time Snape had said Harry's last name without any hatred. Harry was stunned, and looking at Sirius, he could see that he wasn't the only one.

A faint pop sounded and Kreacher appeared in the middle of the Granger's family room. "Kreacher has comes for his Mistress." The old elf sneered when he found no trace of Hermione in the room.

Sirius stepped forward, "No one called you-"

He was cut off however when Hermione pushed through the kitchen door and headed straight to the surly elf, grasping his tiny hand into her own, gently despite her obvious anger. "I'm sorry…I just, can't." Hermione managed to say before looking to Kreacher. "Home, please Kreacher." And just as quickly as the elf appeared, he disappeared with Hermione in tow.

"Oh dear." Professor McGonagall whispered worriedly for her star pupil. No one else spoke, but the silence said enough.

September 1st came rather quickly, and before either Harry or Hermione knew it, they were boarding the Hogwarts Express. They found themselves a private compartment quickly and though Ron had glared at them on the Platform, they were both relieved to see him walk pass their door with Seamus and Dean.

Their relief was short lived however, as a rap on the door signaled a visitor. The blonde haired boy crowed the doorway as he opened it, the ever following Crabbe and Goyle encompassing the hall behind him. Harry immediately reached for his wand, but Hermione's hand upon his forearm stopped him. He frowned at her, but Hermione's attention was on Draco. "What do you want Draco?"

Weariness carried in her voice and both boys heard it. "Only a word…in private?" It was strange to Hermione, seeing the boy so calm and…cordial in her presence, in Harry's.

"No way, Malfoy." Harry stated in a seriousness that took Hermione by surprise. He was calm, but she could see the distrust in every inch of him. It's was too bad that she was just too curious to say no.

"It's fine Harry." She reached into her coin bag and deposited a couple Galleons into his hand. "Go and get s something for the trip." He looked at her as if she had lost her mind, and maybe she had, but she was confident that if this was a ploy she could take Draco and his minions. She raised an eyebrow and waited for him to cave.

With a sigh he finally stood. "I'll be right back." He stressed as he passed Malfoy, surprised when Crabbe and Goyle followed him to the sweets cart, picking out their own goodies without as much as a sneer towards him.

Draco sat across from Hermione, stiff but trying hard not to seem so. "What did your mother wish for you to tell me then?" Hermione cut him off at the pass.

Draco didn't disguise that he'd been caught; in fact, he smiled and chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair. "For not having been raised by your family, you sure do act like them." Hermione winced and Draco paled at the sight. "I didn't mean that as an insult." He responded quickly, quietly.

"What do you want Draco?" She asked once more, slouching back against her seat as exhaustion over her situation caught up with her.

"You're right when you think my Mother wanted me to approach you, but not for the reason you might think. Regardless of what you think about Pureblood families, the good of our family comes above everything else. That's how we're raised. I know our views are…flawed and that everything I've done to you, said to you, cannot be taken back. After everything that happened this summer Mother and I find ourselves seeing things from a different perspective." The boy goes quiet as he looks down at his well-polished shoes. "She divorced him, you know? Kicked him out of the house and everything, says he'd been put her family through hell since they met. I reckon she blames Father for getting the family involved with…him. She blames her father too…and herself for almost allowing me to…well I guess none of that matters now."

Hermione stared at Draco in open shock. "Are you, looking for a second chance Draco?"

He looked up at her and she was surprised that the spoiled boy had tears in his eyes. "I don't expect anything, I swear. And this isn't some ploy or anything like that. Mother's reaching out to her sister, and I, well it's just Mother and I now, everything I thought we stood for, well we don't anymore and I just…" He struggled for words as he looked at her, then finally he sighed and frowned as he kept himself from crying. "You're family Hermione, and I think we could both use that right about now."

It was the first time the boy had ever called her by her name, and it shocked her to her very core. She cleared her throat and sat up straight. "I don't know if we'll ever be family Draco." She watched as his face fell. "But how about we start with friends?" She offered her hand, watching him for any signs of disgust when he reached out to take it. She saw none, only relief and…joy?

"I'd like that very much." He grinned and stood once he released her hand. "I'll leave you to it then, um, thank you Hermione, I…thank you." He whispered back to her.

Hermione smiled, and then smirked. "You know you'll have to make amends with Harry for this to work, right?"

Adopting his best sneer, Draco looked down on her. "Like I'd ever want to associate with a…Gryffindor." His sneer turned into a bashful smile as Hermione gave a surprised laugh.

"I'm a Gryffindor!" She protested.

Draco laughed, and looked more carefree than Hermione had even seen, even the reappearance of Harry did nothing to dampen his mood. "And I'm already overlooking that!" They sobered a bit as Harry retook his seat, Draco once again standing in their doorway. "Thank you Hermione, honestly." He nodded to her and then looked to Harry. "See you on the pitch, Harry."

Bewildered, Harry almost didn't respond, but thankfully he found his voice. "If you can keep up…Draco." The two watched as the blonde made his way down the hall and out of sight. Hermione, seeing the mass amount of sweets Harry acquired, grabbed a Chocolate Frog, grinning a secret, but pleased grin as she waited for Harry to come back to reality. "That was…um…weird." He finally spoke, tearing into a Mint Toad. "What's he want?"

Hermione giggled at his dazed look. "A second chance." She said simply, and as biased as Harry is, or maybe was, toward the Malfoy family, he only nodded. Perhaps it was because he knew how precious second chances were, perhaps because he knew how much Hermione wanted family, whatever the reason he didn't protest or try to talk her out of it. He accepted her decision at face value.

"Jelly Slug?" Hermione grimaced at the offered bag of squirming, slimy candied slugs. They weren't real slugs of course, but she couldn't stand how they felt in her mouth.

"No thank you." She declined firmly, making the boy laugh as he slurped one down. Hermione held in her reflex to gag.

"So, how long do you think Ron's gonna act like a git?" Harry asked nonchalantly as he and Hermione sat by the fire in the common room. Hermione sighed, but refused to answer in favor of rereading her potions textbook. "The Triwizard Tournament should be interesting, yeah?" He tried as second time.

Hermione sighed and looked up from her book. "Sounds positively dangerous and anyone who would voluntarily enter it is mad and I swear to you, Harry Potter, that if you enter your name I'll kill you before the Tournament even has a chance. Understood?" She leveled him with her best glare.

Harry gulped and tried to smile reassuringly. "Right, not a problem 'Mione. Wouldn't think of it; just wish they didn't have to council Quidditch because of it." He shrugged.

Hermione smiled as he turned back to stare at the fire. "Just think of it this way Harry, this is the first year when nobody's out to get you and nobody will be focusing on you. Face it Harry Potter, you're old news." She teased.

Harry grinned a wide, joyous smile as he looked into the fire. "That might be the best news I've ever gotten, 'Mione. You're bloody brilliant."

Seeing that she'd eased his almost sour mood, Hermione turns back to her book. It was her third read through, but she needed something to do, something to distract her. Since arriving at Hogwarts, she had been filled with this nervous energy, anxiousness. Of course, who could blame her now that everyone stared at her and whispered about her last name and her parents?

What had the school really going though was the fact that the Slytherins seemed to be giving both her and Harry a wide berth, and not a single word was said out of line when about them. Hermione knew that Draco had been behind it, regardless of his stance on Blood Purity now, he was still the son of one of the most influential Wizarding families, and so still the leader of the pack. Hermione wandered if that now Narcissa had supposedly changed her view of things, would the rest of the Pureblood families follow suit.

She didn't believe that everything would suddenly go away and the line between Muggleborn and Pureblood would disappear, but maybe it was a step toward such a future? Even if Narcissa did in fact leave Malfoy, she was still a Black, and as far as Hermione knew the Black name held far more respect than any other name she'd come across. It was a disorienting feeling knowing that she was related to such a name.

Her first day of 4th year and already things were standing upon their heads. What else would she be in store for? Did she even want to know?

No, she definitely didn't.