Teatime

Hermione always dreaded having tea with her mother. It was the one time she was required to spend actual one-on-one conversation with her mum, and Hermione always had to watch what she said. She preferred to talk about her education, what she was studying, the marks she was earning, and she always managed to avoid the inevitable questions about her social life, politics, and the state of the wizarding world. It was just easier that way. Unfortunately, having tea together meant that her mother expected a real, heart-to-heart conversation.

They had once been close, as had the rest of her small family. The Grangers knew that their daughter was special, although a bit on the odd side, as evidenced by her lack of playmates while growing up. They filled the void in Hermione's life the best they could, providing camaraderie, and most of all, education. Books and learning tied all the Grangers together, and the entire family would sit around the parlor after dinner discussing their latest readings. However, Hermione's life in the wizarding world had breached her relationship with her mother and father. Her parents were able to immerse themselves back into the world of dentistry without the distraction of having a needy and lonely child at home.

The fact that Hermione kept most details of her life at Hogwarts to herself didn't help her relationship with her parents. She didn't want to worry them, and there was always the chance that her mum and dad would tell her that she couldn't return to school because it was "too dangerous."

Hermione had to agree; things in the wizarding world were getting darker and more dangerous every week. During her first year, she wrote frequently about her friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, and the adventures she had. When she was at home for the Christmas holiday, she mentioned the troll fiasco. One glance at the concerned look on her mother's face caused Hermione to make a mental note never to mention injuries or mishaps again. Instead, she talked about her instructors, both wonderful and horrid, she talked about her successes, and she talked about how much time she spent in the library. When pressed, she would talk about her roommates, and the uneasy truce they shared over their room at the top of Gryffindor tower. Last summer, Hermione was able to share her selection as Gryffindor prefect, something that pleased her mother and father greatly.

Throughout her fifth year, Hermione's notes home became shorter and less frequent as the term dragged on. Professor Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad were watching the post, so Hermione didn't include much more than, "Dear mum and dad, I'm doing fine, been busy with schoolwork. Love, Hermione."

As was their custom, her mother always took her to tea the weekend after she returned home from Hogwarts. Hermione had been spending less and less time at home each year, and her mother was eager to catch up with her only child. This past year, Hermione had barely written and spent little time at home during the holidays. She knew something wasn't going right in her daughter's life, and it was confirmed when Hermione stepped off the school train at the end of term, looking tired, worried, and stressed. She was determined to speak to her daughter.

* * *

Hermione and her mother were seated only a few minutes after arriving at the teashop. After placing their order, her mother got down to business.

"Hermione, there is something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

"Hmm?" Hermione answered, staring out the window at the passersby.

"Your father and I are very concerned about you. We seldom hear anything from you while you're at school, and now that you're home, you just don't seem like yourself."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, although she suspected what was coming next.

"Well," her mother continued, "you look worried, stressed, not happy to be on holiday. I understand that this was a big exam year for you, but you should be feeling relieved, not gearing for battle."

Hermione stared. How ironic it was for her mother to choose those words. "It's not really funny that you should use those words, mum. You don't really know what's been happening."

Mrs. Granger had expected something like this. Hermione was a teenager after all. She had heard lots of "teenager" stories from her colleagues at work. This was normal, girls Hermione's age never felt that their parents understood where they were coming from. She had just never expected this from her sensible child. "Well, dear, you're just plain wrong about that. I do know what it's like to be a young lady, growing up, working hard on school and trying to fit in...."

"Oh, mum!" Hermione interrupted. "It's nothing like that, this is serious." She paused for a minute, looking much older than her fifteen years.

"I never wanted to worry you and daddy with this. I thought you would be happier knowing that things at school were fine, and that I was learning and working hard. Which I am, of course," she added hastily when her mother shot her one of those looks.

"I'm not just worried about school. There's something else bigger out there, something that Muggles like you and Daddy don't know about. Something dark."

Her mother frowned, worry lines creasing her forehead. Mrs. Granger had always given Hermione her distance, allowed her to have her own life outside of home. It seemed only natural. She and her husband only had so much to offer their magical daughter. But this took her by surprise. It shocked Mrs. Granger to hear her daughter speaking in such dramatic terms.

"What do you mean by that, dear? Are your classmates teasing you, like they did in primary school?" she asked, trying to keep a level head. She thought that it couldn't possibly be worse than just normal adolescent drama.

"No, no, no, it's nothing like that mum." Hermione took a deep breath. Maybe it was time to tell them what was really going on, about the role one of her best friends played in it all. It wasn't fair to her parents for them to not know about the real state of the wizarding world. She had always given them the impression that it was a wonderful place, free from all the conflict and problems existent in the Muggle world.

"Do you remember my friend, Harry?" she started slowly. "It all centers around him." Hermione paused, thinking for a moment. How in the world was she going to be able to explain everything to her mother? She would be upset, no doubt about it. Would her mother forbid her from returning to Hogwarts if she knew the truth? "Some things have happened over the past few years that I haven't mentioned."

Her mother's sharp voice interrupted her thoughts. "What centers around him? What things have happened?" Hermione blinked in surprise - her mother rarely snapped at anyone. "Just get to the point, Hermione, you're making me really nervous."

"Well...about 16 years ago, there was a war within the magical community. I know I told you about that book I read right after I got my Hogwarts letter, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. The baby who made Voldemort disappear, that was Harry." Hermione paused, thinking hard about how to tell her mother the rest.

"That was your friend? Well, that's all very interesting, but what things are you talking about?" Hermione's mother looked impatient. "What happened?" she asked loudly. The ladies at the next table stared at the sound of her raised voice.

"Voldemort's back, he's after Harry." Hermione said in a rush.

"What?" exclaimed her mother. "What does that mean exactly? Are you in danger?"

Hermione went quiet and looked down at her lap. She said in a soft voice, "Everyone's in danger, mum. It's a war." Her young face looked very somber, and she looked at her mother straight in the eye. "Not just wizards, but Muggles too."

Mrs. Granger pursed her lips thoughtfully, trying not to worry. Surely her daughter was exaggerating. After all, all teenagers do that, don't they? "I'm not sure what you mean by that. Could you explain more?"

"During the last war, Muggles were victims too mum. The Death Eaters would go out and attack innocent Muggles just because they weren't magical. Wizards who didn't agree with the Death Eaters were also attacked. That's what happened to Harry's parents."

"Death Eaters?" her mother asked, looking confused. "What are they?"

"They're his followers, mum. Like a gang of street thugs, only armed with magic instead of guns." Hermione took a deep breath, and decided to tell her mother everything. She deserved to know, and she trusted that her mother would know that Hermione would do everything possible to remain safe. "Voldemort's been trying to come back for the past five years, and he's been trying to kill Harry every step of the way."

Hermione's mother looked shocked and scared. There was no going back now, her mother had to know everything.

"During our first year, Voldemort tried to steal something from Hogwarts that would have made him immortal. He failed, thanks mostly to Harry. Ron and I helped Harry stop him." There was a faint note of pride in Hermione's voice, even though she knew that her mother wouldn't have been pleased with Hermione putting herself in harm's way. "Harry nearly died, but Professor Dumbledore was able to intervene. Voldemort didn't come back that year."

Hermione took a breath, taking a peek at her mother. She looked concerned, and a bit doubtful. Hermione continued, "Second year, Voldemort tried again, this time through a magical diary. I spent the last part of the term in the hospital wing, petrified. I know that Professor Dumbledore never told you. By that time, I was only writing home once a month, and you assumed that I was too busy with exams." Hermione stopped for a moment, and noticed that her mother was wearing a look of extreme shock.

"I can't believe that your school wouldn't notify parents of students who were injured!" her mother exclaimed. She wore an outraged expression. "That is just downright irresponsible! How could they do that to parents?"

"Mum, Hogwarts isn't like Muggle schools, you know that. Wizards expect their school-age children to be much more independent than Muggle parents do. Professor Dumbledore tried to keep it quiet, he didn't want to worry the rest of the wizarding world." Hermione paused for a moment, thinking. "In any case there were several other students who were also affected, but fortunately, Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, was able to heal us with a potion, and everyone went home safely."

"I'm very glad to hear that, but I still am not pleased with the lack of communication. Hermione, I need to discuss all of this with your father this evening, you know that. We may have to reconsider the method of your education." Her mother's face had a tinge of red along the ears. She had seldom seen her mother so upset, but this time Hermione felt it was warranted.

"Mother, no! I belong at Hogwarts, and I would be in greater danger elsewhere. Muggle-born witches and wizards are also targets of the Death Eaters, there's no getting around that. I'm already known as one, and I really need to finish my education to be able to properly defend myself and you and dad." The words tumbled out in a rush. Hermione knew that this might be a consequence of the truth, but she also hoped that her mother would understand that her magical education must continue. "There's more, let me finish."

"Alright, but your father and I will be making a decision this evening. You may not be going back to school next year," her mother stated sternly.

Hermione pushed that horrible thought to the back of her mind. She would be able to talk her parents into allowing her to return to school, she wasn't worried about that. Her parents had always allowed Hermione a great deal of leniency when it came to her education. "Last year, it finally happened. Voldemort successfully came back, and another student died as a result." Hermione sighed. "Cedric was a wonderful person too, smart, handsome, a terrific student. He didn't need to die, Mum. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Voldemort was trying to get to Harry." She stopped for a moment, looking thoughtful.

During Hermione's pause, Mrs. Granger mulled over this new information. She was out of her league on this matter; this was completely different than her school experiences, when the worst thing she had to suffer though was her roommate borrowing her clothes without asking. She had plenty of advice to offer on inconsiderate schoolmates, but nothing to say on the subject of murderous wizards.

"He's still safe, isn't he?" asked Mrs. Granger quietly. "Nothing's happened to him, has it? I thought I trusted you enough to know that you would share your experiences, but now, I'm not so sure..." Her voice trailed off in her uncertainty.

"Yes, Harry's physically safe, at least for now. But mum, there's even more."

"More? How could there be more Hermione? How do you expect me to just sit here while you tell me how dangerous your life is?" her mother snapped. She looked scared and angry.

"I don't expect you to just sit there, mother. I'm telling you about my life. I can't change who I am," said Hermione fiercely. She took a deep breath, and looked around at the Muggles, calmly sipping their tea and nibbling their biscuits. In a softer voice, she continued, "I am a witch, there's no going back now. Not only that, I am a Muggle-born witch, which makes me a target. I need to learn all that I can, to prove that I am just as capable as those berks who believe they're better than us." She cleared her throat. "Let me finish up, then you can yell at me some more."

Her mother looked hard at Hermione, trying to figure this all out. "Fine. I want to let you know that I am not happy with all of this deception, but I also appreciate that you are trying to include me in your life."

Hermione looked gratefully at her mother, know that her desire for more information would alleviate the concern she was feeling.

"Thank you." Hermione looked somber, trying to find the right words to explain what happened in the Department of Mysteries just a few weeks ago. "Right after O.W.L.s, Voldemort lured Harry into London. He thought that his godfather was captured by Voldemort, and Harry wanted to go and rescue him." She looked at her lap, and continued, "I went with him to help, along with Ron, Ginny, and two other of our friends. We snuck out of the school and went to London, hoping to find Harry's godfather and save him. I tried to talk him out of it, but Harry was insistent. I went along to help, knowing that I could help Harry keep a reasonable head." She looked up, meeting her mother's eyes.

"It was a trap, mum. The Death Eaters were waiting for us. They lured Harry to the Ministry of Magic, they wanted something only he could touch." She paused, remembering the fear and the adrenaline. She heard Harry's voice in her head, telling everyone to start smashing every bit of glass they could hit with a spell. "We split up, trying to escape them. I was attacked by some spell that knocked me out completely. When I woke up, I was in the hospital wing." Hermione continued in a broken voice, "Ginny broke her ankle when one of them tried to grab her. Neville, he was kicked in the face, his nose broken. Ron..." She paused. "I don't know what exactly happened to him." Hermione sighed. "Something strange. Mum, he's different now, he has scars that will never go away."

"What about you, Hermione? Are you hurt?" her mother asked with concern and a frown.

"I'll be okay, mum. I have some potions that I need to take every day until I am fully healed. Madam Pomfrey will be sending them to me by owl post throughout the summer. It shouldn't have to take them much more than another month. She said that I'm supposed to take it easy for a while." Hermione flashed a quick smile at her mother. "It means that I won't be able to help dad tend the roses out in the garden all summer. I'm sure that he will be relieved at that, he's always going on about how black my thumb is when it comes to roses." She broke off, knowing that she was rambling.

Hermione's mother looked seriously at her. "I meant what I said about speaking with your father. I'm not sure what is going to happen."

Hermione fell silent. She knew that never returning to Hogwarts might be a possible consequence. But she also knew that her parents would see reason in the end. She would find a way.