Hermione's father didn't even notice Hermione's new haircut, but Hermione's mother, upon seeing her, shrieked.
"You permed your hair?!" she exclaimed, scurrying over to her. "Without telling me?"
"Mum!" Hermione protested, as her mother fussed with her hair, picking up curls and ringlets to examine closely. "It's just hair! I didn't think I needed your help."
"Oh," her father said, looking at Hermione and peering a bit closer. He shrugged. "It looks nice. What's the matter, Jean?"
"What's the matter?" her mother said, aghast. "What's the matter is my daughter went and got a perm done without telling me!"
Her father frowned. "Dear… it's Hermione's hair. Shouldn't she be able to—?"
"Of course she can do what she wants with it," her mother saidt dismissively. She pulled back to look at Hermione, and to Hermione's astonishment, there were tears in her mother's eyes. "It just means my little girl is growing up."
Her father nodded and wisely dropped it, hanging his coat up and quickly going into the kitchen, sensing that her mother was having a moment. Her mother sat down next to Hermione on the couch, looking at her with plaintive eyes. Hermione squirmed under her gaze, uncomfortable.
"I remember when I first did my hair myself as a teenager," her mother told her, a melancholy smile coming to her lips. "I bleached it blonde. Margaret had to help me – the bathroom smelled for days. My mother was furious." She laughed, then looked back to Hermione, fond.
"I didn't mean to make you upset," Hermione said, apologetic. "I just—"
"It's fine, Hermione," her mother reassured her. "It's truly fine. It's just… it's another sign that you're growing up, is all. It's one I wasn't quite ready to see."
"Because I did my hair?" Hermione said, incredulous. "It's not that big of a deal, Mum…"
Her mother's smile was wry.
"It's your hair today, but it'll be your clothes and such tomorrow," she said. "It's a sign that you're developing into your own person, a young woman independent of everyone else. It reminds me that you're very much a teenager, now, and that you'll be pulling away even more over time as you try to decide what type of person you want to be… and I just wasn't ready to see that yet."
Hermione shifted uneasily. "Mum… it's just my hair."
Her mother sighed, giving her a fond squeeze.
"And it looks great, dear," she told her. "I'd never have thought to give you a perm to change your curls, but it looks excellent. Really. I'd have thought it would damage your hair more than help."
"It was magic," Hermione admitted. "They cursed the curls in, instead of using a perm lotion or chemical."
"Well, it suits you," her mother declared. She stood back up, offering Hermione a smile. "Are you happy with it?"
Hermione considered.
"I am," she said finally. "I didn't think I would like it, but I like it rather a lot, now."
Her mother gave her a proud smile.
"My daughter, growing up," she said with a sigh. She shook her head. "It seems like just yesterday you were begging me to cut your hair all off so they'd stop teasing you about it in school."
Hermione flushed.
"That was before I figured out how to hurt the bullies back," she muttered, and her mother laughed.
"Yes, which set us all on this path of magic for you, really," she mused fondly. She gave Hermione a smile. "It's odd sometimes to remember where it all began."
Christmas dawned bright and cold. Hermione awoke early, and she helped her mother make hot chocolate for them all before they snuggled into blankets in front of the tree to exchange gifts with each other. There were several new gifts now underneath the tree, and Hermione eyed them somewhat warily, not knowing what, exactly, to expect.
Hermione's parents were happy with the book choices she'd found for them. They were both somewhat confused initially with Hermione's other gift, but once she explained it, they were thrilled.
"So nothing will stain it?" her father said, holding up his new lab coat. The breast was embroidered with Dr. R. Granger. "Not even blood?"
"Not even blood," Hermione assured him. "It'll resist tears and cuts as well, from mislaid scalpels and the like. And it's charmed to stay bright white."
"This is incredibly practical and thoughtful, Hermione," her mother praised her, smiling and folding her own back up, leaving the Dr. J. Granger embroidery face-up. "Thank you!"
Hermione beamed.
Her parents had given Hermione a calligraphy kit, as well as new clothes – gorgeous, dramatic dresses made of velvet or silk or cashmere, but ones Hermione recognized as distinctly muggle, to her confusion. Hermione caught her mother's sly smile at Hermione's surprise.
"The wizarding world doesn't have very much variety," she commented. "I thought you might like to more choices of how to look."
Hermione looked more closely at the dresses, before she started to laugh.
"Did you have all of these altered?" she asked. "They've all got tiny buttons!"
Her mother nodded, smiling.
"Your government robes seemed very dramatic, but I expect you'll need to go to more formal government events as well," she said, nodding at the dresses. "These can be used to make a statement."
Hermione snorted. "I'm just the Youth Representative. I doubt I'll be making any grand statements of any sort."
Her father laughed. "Hermione, not making a statement or expressing her opinion? My Hermione?"
Hermione colored. "That's not what she meant!"
"Isn't it?" her father's eyes twinkled. "It kind of is."
Ears red, Hermione determinedly ignored her parents' teasing and turned back to the tree. She went for her friends' gifts first, less concerned about the implications of those.
Harry had sent her a set of colored inks and thicker parchments to use to make flash cards, which she thought rather thoughtful. She'd sent him a muggle book – "How to Survive the Loss of a Parent", with the cover charmed to hide what it was from anyone except him – in the hopes it would help him somehow. It was clear he'd never really worked through the grief of his loss, and Hermione hoped he'd be open to trying.
Susan had sent Hermione a framed version of the Goblin Trading bill, her first piece of legislation for the Wizengamot, which made Hermione laugh. Hermione had sent Susan books by John Locke and a couple others on the philosophy of law, which seemed terribly fitting, given what Susan had sent her.
Hermione had sent Luna a couple muggle books that her mother had read to her as a child; Tatterhood and Other Tales and The Maid of the North. Both were books that had muggle myths and legends of the Fae, and Hermione thought Luna might appreciate them in light of the research they'd done earlier that year. Luna's own gift to her was quite odd, though – what looked like a map of the UK, Ireland, and the surrounding small islands, only with red lines drawn all over it. There was no explanation of the map included with it; Hermione made a mental note to look at it again later or ask Luna what it was.
Her dormmates had sent her an assortment of sweets and things from Hogsmeade – quills, a new planner, chocolate frogs, sugar quills. Hermione had tried to send them all individualized gifts this year, but she didn't begrudge them their gifts – small tokens like these were the most appropriate ones to gift a dormmate, really. She'd sent Tracey a boxed set of muggle fantasy romances (mostly to make her laugh), Millie a couple small ceramic planters that looked like cats, and Daphne and Pansy she'd sent hand mirrors that she'd enchanted to light up and illuminate their faces.
Neville had sent her a book on Adaptive Herbology, which Hermione thought looked interesting, and Ron had sent her some Chocolate Frogs. Hermione had sent Neville a new planner for the new year, to hopefully help him remember his homework assignments, and she'd sent Ron a small assortment of muggle chocolates, just to give him some variety in the sweets he snacked on constantly.
Her mother and father watched her with amused smiles as she opened her gifts. Hermione suspected they'd seen this enough times by now to know she instinctively saved the more dramatic gifts for last.
Blaise, at least, had sent a relatively normal gift this time – it was a book on secret societies throughout the ages, and how to create one. Flipping through it, Hermione thought it looked rather helpful – similar muggle resources she'd been able to find had been more focused on cults, which she was hoping to avoid overtones of. She hadn't given Blaise his own gift, yet.
Again not knowing quite what to get for a Malfoy, Hermione had gone to muggle fantasy shops in search of things with a dragon motif for Draco. She'd ended up sending him a round box with a seam in the middle, decorated in bronze with Celtic knotwork and designs on the outside of a large black enamel ball. The base of the ball had rested on a silver dragon's foot, and a small, silver dragon lay on top of the globe, perched as a tiny guard. The piece had been muggle, but she'd enchanted the small dragon to blow sparks when anyone who wasn't Draco went near, effectively guarding his small treasures.
To her surprise, Draco's gift was a brilliant blue sapphire, similar in size to the emerald he'd given her the previous year. While the size was staggering, Hermione was rather pleased – as she learned more ancient runes, she'd be able to enchant such gems not too far in the future, and it was a very pretty gift, not-jewelry that it was. Sapphire for her birthstone, Hermione figured, setting it aside – she couldn't think of any other reason he would send her something blue.
While Hermione had sent Theo an enchanted lockbox, she was surprised to see he'd sent her a book – a book on memory and Legilimency, but a book nonetheless. It was a pleasant surprise – she'd been expecting something much worse, given his father's previously-stated betrothal intent. But a book was a perfectly normal, civilized, non-romantic gift, and one she was well pleased to get.
There were only a couple gifts left – one from Cedric Diggory, and one from Fleur Delacour.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione went for the gift from Fleur first, figuring it to be the least difficult to handle. Fleur was classy and tactful and clever in everything she did, and though she might send a dramatic gift, Hermione suspected it would be rather tongue-in-cheek if she did.
Hermione had agonized herself over what to send Fleur as a gift. She still cherished her letters and thought very fondly of her, and she'd wanted to give Fleur something meaningful and beautiful, something she'd look at, think of her, and smile. Hermione had eventually settled on a small bonsai tree, but she'd taken dozens of shrunken fairy lights and decorated the tree with them, creating a beautiful, enchanting effect when Fleur tapped the trunk of the tree to illuminate them all. It was unusual, but bright, natural, and beautiful, and Hermione hoped Fleur liked it as much as she hoped she would.
The gift Fleur had sent came in a very small square box, and it was with mild trepidation that Hermione pulled off the lid. In the box, nestled in sky blue silk, lay a pretty golden braid, bent into an ellipse with a chain and clasp at the ends. One of the strands of the braid had what looked like strands of actual gold going around it, woven into the braid itself, and the entire thing was smooth and quite striking.
"Oh, that's pretty!" her mother remarked. "Is that a bracelet?"
"I think so," Hermione said, opening the card. "I've never seen something like this before."
Fleur's handwriting was elegant as ever, and Hermione read her card.
.
Dearest Hermione,
Joyeux Noël! I hope you are having a wonderful break and enjoying your holiday.
You have written me this year of the escaped murderer chasing your friend, as well of the Dark creatures that guard your school, and though I know you are very capable and strong, I cannot help but worry terribly for your safety. Though I know you are not altogether fond of jewelry, I hope you will consider wearing this about your wrist.
Veela magic is mostly nature and instinct, but there are some rituals that are passed down, and the making of protection tokens to guard a loved one is one of them. I followed this ritual to create this for you – I sat under the light of a full moon as I cut my hair, I pulled a strand of gold free through a ley line, and I sang songs of protection as I braided my hair and wrapped it with gold for you.
This token is said to help protect you from creatures which are not human and from those who would charm or enchant you – Veela, Sirens, Goblins, Banshees, and so on. It is my hope that such a token might help protect you from the Dark dementors that guard your school and keep you safe so I might someday see you again.
Your classmates may recognize this as a protection bracelet – braided protections used to be more common – but few if any will recognize what it will protect you from. And they will not count it as jewelry, either – though you and I will both know it was given with much affection and love.
I wish you the best for the New Year!
Yours truly,
Fleur Delacour
.
"It's for protection," Hermione said, pleased. Her face felt warm as she set the card aside, but she took the bracelet, fiddling with the clasp to get it on her left wrist. "It's to protect me from Dark creatures."
"A braided bracelet?" her father asked, frowning. "Doesn't it need some sort of protective symbol or sigil on it, too?"
"That's quite kind of her," her mother said approvingly. "And very thoughtful."
Hermione was unsurprised her mother would favor a gift that was meant to keep her safe.
The gift from Cedric was somewhat bigger – about the size of a hardback book. It was not as thick as a book, though, and when she lifted it, she could hear something shift inside the box. As she unwrapped it, a light pink box with a red ribbon around it was revealed, and it was with hesitation that Hermione opened the box from him as well, her eyes going wide.
"Oh!" her mother exclaimed. "That's beautiful, Hermione!"
"It is," Hermione said numbly, staring down into the box. She wet her lips. "It is."
Three little jeweled roses lay in the box, ruby petals flanked by two glittering emerald leaves. Two of the roses were attached to small gold backings, making them earrings, while the third had a braided gold chain looping through the bend in the stem between the leaves of the largest rose.
"Is this from that boy who sent you the rose and poem last year?" her father asked. He whistled. "He certainly knows how to keep a theme."
Hermione's fingers opened the card that had been in the box with the necklace and earring set almost without her realizing it. To her surprise, it was not a letter or holiday card that fell out, but an elegant piece of embossed stationery.
"What's that?" her mother asked, and Hermione's eyes scanned it, wide.
"It's—" Hermione cleared her throat. "It's an invitation to Cedric's holiday party this evening."
"That's… kind of him," her mother remarked. She exchanged a glance with Hermione's father. "Do you want to go?"
"I don't know," Hermione said honestly, staring down at the roses in the fancy box. "It's… I don't think it'd feel like much of a party. I think it'd be like an interview."
"An interview?" her father said quizzically. "What for?"
"This is… in the magical world, a gift of jewelry like this is to declare formal courting intent," Hermione explained, gesturing to the rose set. "If I go tonight, and if I wear this… I think Cedric's father and mother will interrogate me to see if I'd be a good fit for their son."
"Isn't he the boy you've been seeing already?" her mother asked, frowning. "And he's only now sending you something like this to court you?"
"It's different," Hermione said hastily. "We've been dating. It's… it's more normal, really. But this… for them, courting is done formally, with an end goal of betrothal and marriage. That's what the jewelry really means – it'd be a step past just dating, into something more."
There was a silence. Hermione glanced up to see her parents staring at her, wordless.
"What?" Hermione said, suddenly horribly self-conscious. "What?"
"You're fourteen," her father said slowly. "Fourteen."
"I know that," Hermione said, annoyed.
"It's just… that's a bit early to start thinking about marriage and forever, isn't it?" her mother tried, her tone gentle. "We understand that you like this boy, Hermione, but you're still very young—"
"I didn't ask for him to send me this!"
Hermione's temper suddenly flared, and she threw the box to the side.
"I didn't ask for this! I made it plain to him that I enjoyed not being in a formal courtship with him more than once," Hermione declared, furious tears in her eyes. "It was fun, just dating him, not worrying about societal expectations or betrothals or any of that rot. But now – now, he goes and sends me this, and he's gone and ruined it all—!"
Her father looked very alarmed by Hermione's outburst, but her mother's face melted into sympathy.
"Can you just carry on as you have?" she tried. "Not wear his gift, but keep seeing him anyway?"
"No," Hermione said emphatically, dashing frustrated tears from her eyes. "No – a gift like this requires an answer. I can't just leave him hanging, and it'd be impossible to go back to the way things were."
Her parents exchanged a glance as Hermione wiped her eyes with her sleeve, trying to calm down. Her frustration and sense of despair at Cedric's gift remained, though – why had he sent her this? They'd been over this dating/courting thing enough times before!
"I'll go," Hermione said, determined. She looked up at her parents. "That is, if you'll permit me to go."
"Of course," her mother assured her. "But Hermione… what changed your mind?"
Hermione was already picking up one of the earrings, clipping it into place on her ear.
"If it's going to be like an interview with his parents, what I want might not even come into the picture," she said. "His father's bound to not like me for some reason or other, and if they refuse to allow Cedric to court me, that problem's solved, then, without me really needing to make a decision."
"Wouldn't you rather it be your choice?" her father asked. "Whether or not to 'court' this boy or not?"
"No," Hermione said stubbornly, clipping on the other earring. "I didn't want to be offered this choice at all."
"What if his family likes you, dear?" Her mother's voice was gentle.
Hermione bit her lip. "Then… I'll handle that when I come to it, if I must."
