Hermione wiped away a few tears that had escaped despite her best efforts. She stared at herself in the mirror- her eyes were red and her face was swollen from sleep.
A quick shower later, she felt refreshed and back to normal. Scotland was usually temperate in the spring and London was uncomfortably hot in comparison-especially with the heatwave they had been suffering recently.
Luckily, her closet boasted many options perfect for summer, courtesy of her parents. They tended to go shopping regularly. They would buy her things they thought she would like even though she was living hundreds of miles away and under a strict dress code at Hogwarts.
Their choice wasn't always to her taste but she appreciated the thought and the opportunity to try on clothes that weren't full length robes. Wizard fashion was quite uninspired in comparison.
Hermione chose a long light green dress with a white flower design. Its sleeveless design and flowy light fabric gave her hope she would be able to keep cool outside. After all, she thought regretfully, she wouldn't even be allowed to cast a cooling charm.
As Hermione excitedly made her way down the stairs to the kitchen, the sound of music from the kitchen got louder.
"Don't go cha- sing waterfalls.
Please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you're used to"
The smell of sizzling onions was making her mouth water. Though Hogwarts food was delicious and convenient, there was nothing like eating home cooked food.
When Hermione arrived in the kitchen, her Mom was standing in front of the stove. She was flipping aloo paratha- flatbread filled with spicy potatoes- while bobbing her head and swinging her hips to the raspy voice coming through the radio at the corner of the kitchen island.
Her father was cutting tomatoes for a salad. He looked up as she walked in and greeted her with a big smile.
"Well hello sleeping beauty," he teased. "How did you sleep?"
"It was good," Hermione responded with a smile. In the warmth of the kitchen, surrounded by all the symbols of her muggle life and in the presence of her normal muggle parents, Voldemort seemed like a fairytale.
"Please grab some ice Hermione," her mom requested while putting various things into the picnic basket centered on the island.
Suppressing an instinct to grab her wand and mutter an Accio, Hermione walked over to the fridge and started filling a pitcher with ice. Lemonade was a Granger picnic staple and Hermione couldn't wait to eat.
So she didn't. She started snacking on a couple tomato slices sitting on the cutting board her father was using.
"Hey! Don't eat my ingredients!" Hermione's dad was very easy going everywhere except the kitchen. Laughing, Hermione swung away.
"This looks delicious. Can we please eat soon? I'm so hu-ungry" Hermione heard an edge of whine in her voice. She tended to act more childishly when she was around her parents. Not that they seemed to mind.
"Of course, beta. You poor thing." Hermione's Mom came over to hug her. She smelled like coconut and spices. Melting into her mom's warm embrace, Hermione felt herself relax. It was the kind of release that felt like letting go of something you weren't even aware of holding onto.
"Alright c'mon girls. Let's get outside and setup." Grabbing the picnic basket, her Dad led the way outside to the garden. There was a small table surrounded by four chairs.
Hermione followed closely behind, bringing plates, silverware, and napkins. She made another trip to grab the now full pitcher of lemonade. Her mom joined them at last with drinking glasses.
The sun beat down punishingly, valiantly held back by the unfurled umbrella fixed into the middle of the table. Finally they dug in.
"Mmm this is sooo good, Mom." Hermione had missed her Mom's cooking.
"You like it?" Her Mom asked modestly and rhetorically. Hermione nodded to confirm her words while taking another bite.
"So how were your exams?"
"Pretty good, I think." Hermione had felt a bit iffy about Defense, but overall she felt confident. She had placed top of her class for the past three years. Even in her second year she had gotten top marks despite being petrified for half the year.
"That's good," her Mom said.
As Hermione took a cool sip of lemonade, she caught her parents exchanging a look. Her father leaned forward.
"There's something we've been meaning to talk to you about, Hermione." His voice was more serious.
"What is it?"
"Well. You're mother and I have been talking to our friends who have kids your age. I mean, normal kids. You know- kids who are in high school now."
Hermione nodded. She didn't consider herself not normal, but here in her muggle world, she knew she was becoming less and less normal. She didn't feel any connection to muggle kids her age. It wasn't even just the magic. Her life had changed so completely in the last year alone that she couldn't even imagine what she would say to one of her parent's friends' kids.
She didn't feel offended at being inadvertently called abnormal. She had heard Harry's adoptive parents called him a freak, and had realized how accepting her parents were in comparison a long time ago. Her father describing the other kids as normal just felt descriptive- not rejecting.
"And you know they are starting to think about what they want to do in the future. What they want to do after graduating high school," her Dad continued. "Have you thought about what you would like to do?"
"Yes actually," Hermione said. "I'm considering a lot of different options."
"It's good to think about your future now," her Mom said. "That way you can keep your options open. You need to start thinking about preparing for your SATs."
"My SATs?"
"Yes, otherwise you won't be able to get into college. The other kids your age, the motivated ones at least, are starting to get prepared for them."
"Well I'm mainly considering a career in the magical world Mom. They don't require the SATs there. We will take OWLs next year and NEWTs in our seventh year."
Her parents exchanged another glance.
"Well that's what we wanted to talk to you about. As you know, your father and I worked very hard to build our dentistry practice. Part of the reason we've sacrificed so much is to make life easier for you. We have a loyal client base and it is a very respectable job."
Hermione furrowed her brow. This wasn't exactly news to her. Her parents worked very hard and she knew that was at least partly for her. She had considered dentistry one of her main options- but that was before Hogwarts. She couldn't put a pin on the exact day but at some point she had shifted from dentistry to a magical career.
"Actually, Mom, there are a lot of great respectable magical careers. For example, I could become a healer and work at St. Mungo's. Or I could work as a potions master. Or I could work in the Ministry. Recently, I've been considering working as a liaison to magical creatures. You won't believe how the wizarding world treats other sentient beings."
Her parents looked disappointed. There was a pause. Her father spoke up next.
"But think about it Hermione- you won't be able to tell anyone where you work or what you do. It will be hard for you to make your way in this world. We are worried about you being able to fit in."
"Why would I be explaining anything to muggles anyway?" Hermione asked in confusion.
Now her dad was starting to look frustrated. Her mom put a hand on his and said, "Look honey. We aren't trying to say that you should give up your magical career. But it's smart to keep your options open. What if things don't work out? You need to be able to support yourself. The world is not easy to get by in."
"And why wouldn't you be talking to muggles," her Dad cut in. "You're a muggle too."
"No I'm not Dad," Hermione corrected, struggling not to roll her eyes. "I'm a witch. Muggles can't use magic. I don't think you are appreciating what magic can do. I don't even really need to get a job. The only thing I need money for is food. You can't conjure food using magic and duplicating it isn't as nutritious. Everything else- water, cleaning, even housing- I can take care of using magic."
"I have to say I'm very disappointed in you Hermione," her Mom said.
Her father was silent.
"Why? Cause I'm a witch?"
Hermione was getting angry. Why couldn't her parents understand? She was part of a different world now.
"No! Because you've forgotten where you came from. How could you say you won't talk to- to- to muggles? You haven't even considered what we are saying. How do you know you wouldn't enjoy college? I understand you have your friends and everyone around you has magical plans for whatever they get up to after school, however you are our daughter. College can be a very eye-opening experience for you and you are refusing to even consider talking to new people in the future. Is this why we are sending you to that place? So you can forget who you are?"
"That's not what I meant," said Hermione. Her fists balled up and her eyes narrowed. "You have no idea what you're talking about. You think I'm forgetting where I came from?" her voice cracked. "You have no idea what you're talking about AT ALL."
No, no, no tears. Not now. Hermione struggled to keep her composure. She hated crying- hated it.
Hermione looked up and focused on the color block pattern of the underside of the umbrella. How could she blame them for not understanding? After all, she hadn't been entirely truthful with her parents. They had some idea of how unusual Hermione was, after all they had realized that themselves during her childhood. However, Hermione had never quite gotten around to explaining that she was considered inferior to other witches and wizards by a significant portion of the student body. Even though she knew this, it only caused her anger to grow.
She hadn't told them because they wouldn't understand. What was the point of worrying them? They thought Hogwarts was a quirky little school where she had to go to prevent magical mishaps. They recognized and respected the necessity of education. However they did not understand.
Maybe it was that urge inside her to be seen, to be understood. Maybe it was how horrible it had become to keep it all inside. Whatever the reason, Hermione found herself speaking before she had even formed the thoughts in her head.
"I can't forget. I'm constantly reminded of who my parents are. Most magical kids have at least one magical parent. They've known they belong to this world since they were little. Their parents belong to it too. You can't understand because you don't. Do you think they like people like us? They think I grew up in a disgusting place filled with stupid animals. They wouldn't let me forget where I came from even if I wanted to! But you wouldn't even know that because you don't get it!"
Hermione's voice trembled but supported her. She could feel the lump in the back of her throat growing. It was just so- embarrassing somehow. Now that she had said it out loud she was forced to acknowledge it. In the pretty garden under the harsh sunlight, the prejudice she had so shockingly faced since her second year seemed to only reinforce her parents' point.
Why was she so convinced her future would be like all the other students? They would be aurors or ministry workers and they would never have to think about how they could explain that at a dinner party with their extended family. The unfairness hit her all over again.
Hermione's parents were quiet. She didn't want to look at them, but as the silence grew she couldn't help herself. Her Dad was sitting back in his chair with a confused look on his face. Her mom looked straight at her, somehow seeming more timid now. Hermione felt bolstered.
"Look, I'm proud of who I am. I'm proud to be half-Indian. I'm proud to be a woman. I'm proud of my muggle parents," she stopped here to smile at them. "But it's hard for me. I live in two completely different worlds. I don't expect you to get it. It's okay. But I need you to trust me when I tell you I know what I'm doing."
Hermione's mom stood up and came around the table to sit in the single empty chair next to Hermione. She pulled Hermione into her arms awkwardly and stroked her hair. After a few moments she made a noise of frustration.
"Ach! Your hair is so tangled. Do you even comb it?"
Not bothering to hold her eyes from rolling, Hermione pushed her mom away. Her mom continued anyway, but softly.
"You know, when you were born, it was the happiest day of my life," she said.
Hermione refused to look at her. She was angry. She always felt like crying when she was angry. She saw her mom lean back out of the corner of her eye.
"I was in labor for 3 days, you know. At that time they didn't give the epidural unless it was absolutely necessary. Your father was out of town. I really wanted him to be there. I was hoping you would wait until he came, but I also wanted it all to be over with."
Hermione looked up now. She didn't remember hearing this story before. Her mom was looking at her but not really seeing her, focused on her memories.
"Finally, the night of the second day, I got out of bed and went to the doctor. She was living in the hospital you see. I banged on her door in the middle of the night and when she opened the door I told her, 'You are going to get this baby out of me tomorrow.'" her Mom was half smiling now. "She just nodded and agreed. Finally you came out. And your father was there, luckily."
Her father took over now.
"You wouldn't open your eyes, you know. I wanted you to open your eyes but you wouldn't. Then, I put my hands over your face like this," he demonstrated by cupping his hand slightly and holding it above his eyes to shade them from the light. "And just like that, your eyes opened right up."
Hermione imagined it in her head. She imagined her father realizing that little baby Hermione's eyes were too sensitive to the light to open. She felt the lump in her throat again, but this time, there was a different feeling to it.
"We love you so much," her Mom declared. "So, so much. If anything hurts you even a little bit, it hurts me a lot. We are here for you. You can always tell us anything."
It was too much. Hermione was touched. She could feel her mothers love as if it was reaching across and engulfing her. But the pain and anger was still there. It was too much. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to let the dam break- say everything, tell them everything that had happened.
She imagined it. How would she say it? Well you see Mom and Dad, people in the Wizarding world think you're less pure if you have non-magical lineage. They think you are dirty and gross- not all of them think that of course. My friends don't but a lot of them do. This kid called me a mudblood. He said I deserved to be killed. He literally said he hoped that I died. And there was this monster roaming the castle that was after people like me. I didn't realize what was happening until it was too late. I thought i could stop it, I finally figured out what was going on. But then i was frozen. I couldn't move. I couldn't talk. I was just there, frozen, helpless. For months. And when I woke up the monster was gone but I couldn't forget. How can I forget that he wanted me dead? I never wished any harm on him but he hated me just because of my parents.
And then they would freak out. You were frozen? What do you mean you were frozen? What do you mean they were targeting you? He wished you were dead? He said that to you? How can you go back to that world? No this is ridiculous!
Hermione could picture it clearly in her mind. Her mom would freak out more. Her dad would be more calm but any decision he made would be hard to budge. That wasn't even the worst of it that they could know. It was so much worse than that. Someone actually had died by the monster 50 years ago- a muggleborn like her.
And someone had died just this past year. Cedric Diggory. A champion. A wizard with magical parents. One who was exceptional enough with his scholarship and magic to be chosen by the Goblet of Fire as the most worthy amongst the entrants to the Tournament.
There was no way they would let her back to Hogwarts if they knew that. She couldn't let that happen. Hermione didn't know how to articulate what she was feeling but she knew it would be unbearable if she was kept from seeing Harry and Ron. Not just them but the castle, the classes, the ghosts, all the little random wonders you found in the magical world. Now that she had been a part of it, it was now a part of her. A part as irreplaceable as her muggle culture.
Her dad broke the silence. "Is everything ok, Hermione? Is someone bothering you at school? Should we speak to a professor?"
"No." she said quickly. "It's just a kid. He calls me names sometimes. He says I don't belong at Hogwarts."
Her dad frowned, offended on her behalf. "Of course you belong there! You're a witch aren't you!"
Hermione smiled. Even though he had been upset at her comment about muggles earlier he was immediately defending her place in the magical world. She felt her heart warm at his protectiveness.
"Who is this person?" her mom inquired.
"His name is Draco Malfoy."
"Have you told Professor McGonnagal about it?"
"Yes. He got in some kind of trouble. But his father is on the school's board of governors."
"Ah," her mom nodded. "He's well connected, is he? And Malfoy? What kind of name is that anyway? Is he white?"
"Yes he's white. But that doesn't really matter. Wizards only really care about your magical purity."
Her mom frowned. "You never know."
Hermione's mom was from India. She had immigrated to the UK when she was very young and was English for all intents and purposes. However, she had spoken to Hermione before of the discrimination she would face- especially before she opened her own practice with her father. It was hard to quantify because people don't outright tell you they are racist. It's more a feeling you learn to recognize. At the same time that makes it easy to doubt your own experience. Was it really someone being racist or were you overreacting? Hermione's mom was strong and knew how she wanted to be treated, which Hermione was proud to emulate. Suddenly Hermione realized that her mom actually had a possibility of understanding her. She couldn't tell her the truth, of course, but her mom had probably faced at the very least a version of what Hermione was talking about.
Without a homicidal maniac, of course. But then again, you would hear about incidents in the muggle news too. They had a close family friend. The mother, her mom's age, had been badly beaten up in the parking lot of a grocery store. Hermione only knew about this from half-caught whispers overheard late at night while half asleep.
Hermione was white passing, especially in the Scotland winter. During the summer months her skin darkened even darker than her mother's. However, she didn't think that factored into her experience with wizards all that much.
"You're right. You never know. But I'm pretty sure."
"It happens," her Mom said. "You can't let bigots bring you down. They try to play games with you and make you feel like you don't belong. You have just as much right to be there as they do. Professor McGonagall came to get you personally. And I know she loves you."
"That's right," her father agreed. "Everyone has their own opinion. We just have to look out for ourselves. Keep your head down, focus on your studies. Don't get involved in other peoples' business."
"They're probably jealous," her Mom said. Hermione felt this was speculation but let her Mom continue. "That's what happens. You're so smart. You are top of your class. You will have every opportunity you want. You are such a pretty, kind, caring girl. No wonder some coward will have something to say. Forget him."
It was ironic, Hermione thought, how her parents had gone from convincing her to prepare for muggle college to reinforcing her place in the magical world. The thought that she would be unwelcome had caused them to double down and reassure her of her right to be magical.
Whatever the reason, it was reassuring to hear it. Hermione realized she did have doubts about her place in the Wizarding world. This conversation had revealed to her that she wasn't as sure of herself as she thought she was. Despite the fact that they weren't magical, her parents unhesitating, staunch support was something she didn't even know she needed to hear.
And they were right. She did belong. She had just as much of a right to a magical education as any other student there. Not only did she belong but she was more successful than them. Hermione couldn't help but feel smug about that.
"Drink some lemonade," her Mom encouraged her.
Hermione took several deep gulps of the lemonade. The ice had melted by now but it was still calming to drink something after the emotional conversation that had taken place.
"Maybe you have a point," Hermione conceded. Now that she wasn't so angry, what her parents were saying made more sense. Why not prepare for her college entrance exams? There was no harm in keeping options open. It's not like she would be forced to go if she didn't want to.
And maybe learning at university could be fun, she thought. She hadn't really considered it as an option but something like political science or psychology could definitely be interesting.
"I'll look into college applications and what I need to have for that. No harm in keeping the option open."
Hermione's parents smiled. Her mom pulled her into another short hug.
"Good," her Mom declared decisively. "I'll get you in contact with Ronak. He is a year above you. You can ask him what he is doing."
"Also," her Dad added, "you should phone or owl your friends. Figure out how you'll keep busy during the day. We took a vacation today to welcome you home but we will be busy during the day. No summer break for the wicked dentists!' Her dad said with an easy smile.
Hermione laughed. "Okay, I'll email some friends. I've been meaning to show Neville, you remember Neville? Pet toad? Anyways, I've been meaning to show him muggle London. He's curious about it but he's never been."
"Oh great! Yes you should call him. And tell him to come over for dinner!" Hermione's mom was clearly excited at the opportunity to get to know her friends better.
"Right," Hermione smirked at the thought of Neville using a phone.
"And you should take him to see that new movie! What's it called Richard?"
"Huh?" Her father looked adorably confused.
"You know we just watched it! With that cowboy toy. It's amazing Hermione, you have got to see it. Toy something. Just go to the theaters. You're free during the day anyways. Take your friend."
"Now wait a minute," her dad objected. "She can't take a boy to a movie alone. Take a group of friends."
"Yeah the more the merrier," her Mom easily agreed. "Well, off you go! Go write your raven or whatever. God knows you'll need time to let that poor bird fly back and forth to confirm your plans. Honestly, can you imagine sending letters by carrier pigeon? We're almost in the new millennium for crying out loud."
"Wizards have calls too, Mom. It's called a floo call but our fireplace isn't connected so we can't use that."
"Fireplace? What's the fireplace got to do with it?"
"You throw a floo powder into the fire, then you call out the place where the person you want to talk to is. Then the fire becomes a portal and you can put your head in it to talk to them."
Hermione's mom stared at her in horror. "You put your face in the fire?"
"Yeah but it's completely safe, don't worry!"
"But- but- that's so absurd." Hermione's mom started laughing, setting off her father. Hermione joined in.
"Yeah I guess it is."
"I mean, what do you do if your house doesn't have a fireplace? How do you leave a message? Do you tell it to the fire after the crackle?"
Hermione giggled.
"How would you even pick up a fire call?" Her dad wondered between his chuckles.
"You don't pick it up. The person's head just appears in your fireplace."
"You're joking."
"Nope."
"Imagine a prank caller just appearing in your living room! Excuse me, maam picking your nose over there, is your refrigerator running?" her Dad joined in.
"Why yes, it's running," her Mom played along.
"Then you better put your head in a fire and tell it to come right back!"
The Grangers all dissolved into laughter.
