I Won\'t

It seemed that by the time Hermione had fallen to sleep, she had been forced awake again. The party in the kitchen had lasted till nearly one, in the morning.

By then, the only ones still up had been Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the twins. Fred and George had thought it would be rather amusing to set off one of their fireworks. Hermione had realised that it was not safe to go outside and set them off. There were too many risks. They couldn't risk the location of the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. So, being Fred and George, they agreed to set them off inside. However, this did not suit Mrs. Weasley, who had gone to bed several hours earlier. She was awoken to crashing in the kitchen as the rocket flew around, knocking into various objects. She had quickly stopped the rocket and sent the six of them to bed.

'Hermione,' Ginny whispered in her ear, shaking her arm to wake her. 'Wake up. I've let you sleep as long as possible, but now it's time to get up. We're going to King's Cross this morning.'

Hermione moaned and groaned, rolling toward the opposite edge of the bed.

'I should have sent Harry in here,' Ginny muttered to herself. 'Surely he'd get you out of bed.' Hermione smiled into her pillow. She had something else in mind, including Harry and her bed. Apparently, Ginny must have been thinking along the same lines because she then whispered, 'Or maybe something else would happen.'

'Ginny Weasley, get out!' Hermione shrieked, rolling toward her, trying to chase her away. Ginny ran out of the room, giggling like mad.

Hermione finally got up the energy to get up and get dressed. Her outfit was sitting out on her bureau. She had chosen a particularly low-cut long-sleeve shirt with a pair of her favourite jeans. She smiled as she looked at herself in the mirror. It was enough to make her mother scream with fury.

Everything was packed away in her trunk, most importantly, her quill. Hermione quickly opened her trunk. Lying on top were her new school robes. Her hand flew into the pocket of them. She pulled out the quill and twirled it through her fingers. She stared at the point, ever so sharp.

'Hermione!' Mrs. Weasley called from downstairs. 'If you want to eat breakfast, I recommend you come downstairs now! We need to leave soon!'

'Yes, Mrs. Weasley!' Hermione yelled. She put the quill in her handbag. Crookshanks lay down on top of her trunk. She rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand. 'Locomotor trunk!' she said casting the spell upon the trunk.

Hermione picked up her handbag and navigated her trunk down the narrow hall and down the stairs, making sure no one was in her way. It was in her best interest that she didn't knock anyone down the stairs. She remembered, only too well, the fiasco from fifth year when the twins had knocked Ginny down the stairs.

Hermione parked her trunk in the hallway and entered the kitchen for a quick breakfast. Crookshanks followed gleefully after her.

As she had suspected, her mother did not look at all happy about her wardrobe. Hermione caught her eye and smiled. Her mother forced on a straight face and spoke in low tones with her father.

Hermione sat down next to Harry. 'Good morning,' she said cheerfully, kissing him on the cheek.

'Well, you're in a good mood this morning,' Harry said brightly.

'You should have seen her when I went to wake her up,' Ginny muttered. She then grinned. 'Of course, we had a lovely conversation - '

'What's not to love about today?' Hermione interrupted, feeling that this conversation could start major controversy.

'Tuck in,' Mrs. Weasley said, placing plates on the table in front of the four of them. 'We need to leave for the platform.'

'Molly,' Hermione's mother said in her overly sweet tone. 'You wouldn't mind if we took Hermione to King's Cross, would you? It would be nice to have a little chat before she leaves.'

Hermione dropped a bit of scrambled eggs on the floor. No. No. No. Say No! Crookshanks ate up the bit of food and continued rubbing against each of their legs in turn.

'Not at all,' Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully. 'After all, she is your daughter.'

Hermione's parents looked pleased to hear this. Hermione bit her lip. The car ride would be murder. A nice little chat wasn't what Hermione would call the ride to King's Cross. It would be the scolding from hell.

They would, surely, argue over Harry, and his recklessness. They would forbid her to see him. And they would threaten her with whatever they could, but Hermione wouldn't listen. She was tired of her parents' constant orders.

Her friendship with Harry had lasted six long years, and Hermione wasn't about to give it up because her parents didn't agree with it.

Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione finished their breakfast and left the kitchen. Hermione carried Crookshanks out of the kitchen. She couldn't bear to leave him behind.

'I suppose I'll see you on the train,' Hermione glumly told the three others, who still needed to go upstairs and retrieve their trunks.

'See you later, Hermione,' Ron and Ginny said, leaving Harry and Hermione to say good-bye.

But Hermione didn't want to say good-bye. She wanted to go to King's Cross with Harry, not her parents. 'I'll see you on the train,' Hermione said again.

Harry leaned forward and kissed her sweetly on the lips. It was much different from the hard, forceful kiss she had given him yesterday. They slowly pulled away and Hermione couldn't help but smile.

'See you on the train,' Harry whispered. Hermione watched him dash up the stairs to levitate his own trunk down the stairs.

'It's time to go, Hermione,' Mr. Granger said, standing in the entrance hallway.

Hermione indolently followed him down the hall and out the door. Once out the door, Hermione's mother rushed toward her and pulled up the neckline of her shirt. 'What were you thinking?' she hissed.

Hermione found that it wasn't necessary to answer this because her mother walked over to the car and sat down in the passenger seat. She followed her mother's lead and sat down in the back seat, placing Crookshanks on her lap.

'Hermione, what you did last night was childish and inappropriate,' Mrs. Granger said as Mr. Granger pulled the car out onto the main road.

Hermione stared out the window. Ignoring her mother was the only way she could keep herself from screaming at them.

'I can't believe you would do something like that,' Mrs. Granger continued. 'And then coming downstairs dressed like that this morning... It's embarrassing.'

Don't listen to them. They're trying to get you worked up. You did this to make them mad, let them be mad. Let them vent their anger. Just don't fight back.

'Do you know how much you've embarrassed us?'

Hermione let out a laugh, but managed to turn it into a realistic cough. She should have known better. They don't give a damn about me. They just care about how it looks on them.

'I mean, really,' Mrs. Granger said furiously. 'Everyone in the Order must think we've raised some sort of tramp!'

Hermione smiled. A tramp, eh? You want to see tramp? So many wonderful ideas formed in Hermione's mind. She could find so many ways to make her mother's hair stand on end.

'And that boy,' Mr. Granger snarled.

'His name is Harry,' Hermione said dully. She was trying so hard to sound uninterested, but if he was going to bring Harry into this, he had another thing coming.

'We don't want you to see him,' Mr. Granger said, ignoring her completely. 'We talked about this a month ago, Hermione. You will not see him.'

'Fine, I'll close my eyes whenever I snog him,' Hermione said cheerfully.

'Hermione, do not test me,' Mr. Granger barked. 'You know how we feel about him.'

'And you know how I feel about him!' Hermione shouted. Mr. Granger, surprised by Hermione's yelling, swerved, causing Hermione and Mrs. Granger to shriek and cling to anything for balance. Crookshanks had screeched as he fell off of Hermione's lap onto the seat.

Mr. Granger automatically regained control of the vehicle and continued, 'You're right.' Hermione's eyes widened. Did he just say I was right? 'We know exactly how you feel about him.'

'But just because you think something is right, doesn't make it right,' Mrs. Granger told her. Her voice changed to a fake sweet tone. 'You can do so much better than him.'

'I don't want anything better than Harry,' Hermione protested. 'I don't want what you two want for me.'

'And what exactly is it that you want?' Mr. Granger asked.

'Now, Richard - '

'No,' Mr. Granger interrupted his wife. 'I want to hear this. What does she want? What can that Potter boy give her that no other boy can?'

Hermione's parents sat in silence, waiting for an answer. Hermione looked out the window. Her vision was now blurred by tears. She bit her lip hard, trying to ease the pain in her heart.

'Hermione?' Mr. Granger said impatiently.

'He loves me,' Hermione muttered as quietly as she could manage.

'What?' Mrs. Granger said.

Hermione gathered up some strength, and said, emphasising each word, 'He loves me.'

A silence unlike any other swept over the car.

'You've got to be joking,' Mrs. Granger laughed. 'You're nearly eighteen. You don't know anything about love.'

'I've seen the way Mr. and Mrs. Weasley look at each other, the way Ron's oldest brother looks at his fiancé, the way Tonks and Lupin look at each other!' Hermione said forcefully. 'And then, I see the way you two look at each other. And it's just not the same. You don't love each other; don't think I don't realise it. If you really loved each other, I'd be able to tell.'

'Of course I love your father,' Mrs. Granger said defensively.

'Do you remember when I was little, and Daddy would have to leave to go on a business trip?' Hermione asked her mother.

'Yes,' Mrs. Granger said.

'Do you remember what I would always ask you?'

'No, Hermione, I don't,' Mrs. Granger said sharply.

'Well, I do,' Hermione said. She was crying more openly now. 'I would ask you if you missed Daddy. And do you remember what you'd always say?' This time, Hermione didn't wait for an answer. 'You said, "He'll be home soon enough." I was young and naïve, but do you think I was stupid? That I didn't realise that you weren't like normal parents? I watched as parents came into school with my classmates when I was ten. They held hands, they smiled at each other, they'd talk in a civilised manner! But I don't think I have once seen you two hold hands. And you're always arguing about something! The only time you don't argue with each other is when you're arguing with me.'

'Hermione,' Mr. Granger said as they pulled into King's Cross. 'This has nothing to do with us. We're talking about you and that boy. You will not see him.'

'And, as I said before, you cannot make me,' Hermione said as she got out of the car, carrying Crookshanks in her arms.

'Hermione,' he said, heaving her trunk onto the trolley. 'He is not safe.'

'Read my lips,' Hermione whispered viciously. 'I. Don't. Care.' She placed Crookshanks on her trunk, where he lay, purring happily, and pushed her trolley toward the platform, her parents following close behind her.

'Hermione, you will listen to us,' Mr. Granger ordered. 'We are your parents.' He seemed to think he had won, but Hermione was not finished with him.

'And soon I will be out of school, and there will be nothing you can do to stop me from doing whatever I want to do,' Hermione told him, her tone rather chipper.

'If we hear that you are seeing that boy, then we'll take you out of school,' Mr. Granger threatened her.

Hermione stopped in front of the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. She turned to face her parents. 'This is the only thing I have ever asked for. Never in my life have I asked for a pony or a bike or a friend. And now, the one thing that I ask of you is that you let me see Harry.' Hermione began to sob. 'I need him. Whether you believe it or not, this is more than just a game or a summer romance; it's much more.'

'Tell us then,' Mrs. Granger said hastily. 'Why do you need him so much?'

Hermione used up all of her anger and courage to pull up her sleeve. The words were still red, even though she hadn't used the quill the previous night.

'Because last night was the first night in the past month that I didn't cut myself!' Hermione shouted, crying hysterically. She could see blurred figures stopping and staring. And she knew what they were thinking. Look at the problem girl, the girl who cuts herself to let go of her problems instead of solving them. Her poor, poor parents. What they must have to go through... Forget about the poor girl who is depressed and is asking for nothing more than her best friend.

'Hermione, hush,' Mrs. Granger whispered. 'We don't need the whole station knowing about your' - Don't say it. Don't say that word. - 'Abnormality.'

Hermione flinched. Her mother couldn't bear to call it what it really was. She couldn't bear to talk about it at all. Neither of her parents could.

'It's not a bloody abnormality!' Hermione screamed. 'It's depression, and it's because of you. You and Dad. I can't take it anymore. I can't deal with the fact that you don't love each other, you expect me to be perfect, and you won't let me see or talk to my best friend.'

Hermione watched the crowd around her die away as she ended her speech. Her parents were surely at a loss for words now. She decided that this was the best time to depart.

She grabbed hold of the trolley and took one last look at her parents. 'Don't bother picking me up at the end of term. I don't need you.' And with those last words, Hermione passed through the barrier, without looking back.