A/N: Thanks for the great reviews and I'm sorry about the wait between chapters, so this one is a little longer than usual. I'm doing my best to update whenever possible but I'm in the middle of exams right now. Got a horrible week starting from Monday- 5 exams including Bio and Maths. Bleurgh. Thanks to beta Angel, you really are one, especially with this chapter.

This chapter is especially for franflutewitch who sent me a lovely review- it was musical! One of my favourite bands too. Thank you for taking the time to do that.



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23. Conflict

Once Hermione had settled herself in by the window, she watched as Ginny, Ron and Harry joined her hefting their holiday luggage onto the rack. The train suddenly jerked to life and she could hear the whirring of the engines as they started up. Silently, Hermione gazed out of the window at the station and the towers of Hogwarts in the distance, illuminated by the light rays of the winter sun. The other three waved enthusiastically at Hagrid, who returned the gesture with one of his giant hands and a bearded grin. Hermione could only offer him a small smile. He simply served as a reminder that this was the last time she would pull out of this station with the intention of returning. The knowledge was a little too close for comfort and she sank back into her seat, blocking the thought from her already crowded mind.

Ginny was quick to get into the Christmas spirit, and pulled a box of Chocolate Frogs from her bag, offering it around. "Is Lupin going to be at the station?" she asked Harry as he took one of the lively sweets. He shook his head.

"We're supposed to go the fireplace at the end of the station. He's had Grimmauld Place connected to the Floo Network for us. Much quicker than walking I suppose. Plus, it'll be easier for us to get about during the holidays."

"Is he going to be there all the time?" asked Ron.

"No, he said he's going to visit some friend of his for a couple of days but he'll be around for Christmas and New Years."

Ginny's face suddenly lit up. "We could have a New Years' Party."

Harry laughed. "A party? At Grimmauld Place? Ginny, you know how depressing that place is. Besides, Mrs. Black would throw a fit."

The redhead looked at him carefully. "It's not a problem if you don't want to have one, it's just...Harry…I understand that you still see it as the 'Black' home, but…I don't think Sirius would have left it to you if he thought you would leave it as it always was."

"What am I supposed to do with it, then?"

Ginny began to smile. "Ever heard of re-decorating, Harry? It'll be fun." Ron groaned and began to shake his head frantically at Harry. His sister glared at him. "Stop it, Ron. You know, just for that, you can be the one to clean out Kreacher's old den. It's probably been left as it is since he was given clothes."

Her brother grimaced and mumbled something about 'not volunteering'.

"Harry can choose colours for the rooms…I can sort out the furniture…Hermione can-oh," she paused, looking apologetically at the brunette beside her. "Sorry, I forgot you were going to your parents' this year."

Hermione shrugged. "That's okay. Maybe I can get in on your little project at Easter." Ron looked horrified. She shot him a look. "I know for a fact your mum found something that looked like Acromantula eggs in the pantry two years ago."

Ginny continued in the same vein for another hour until both Harry and Ron begged her to stop, admitting defeat.

When they pulled into Kings Cross, Hermione lugged down her holdall and Crookshanks's carrier, Ginny, Harry and Ron following suit and stepping off the train behind her. They quickly located the fireplace at the very end of the station.

Hermione smiled at her friends. "See you soon?" she said, shifting the weight of her bag to make it more comfortable.

Ginny came forward to give an awkward hug- the cat carrier and the bag rather got in the way. "Try to come a few days before we go back to school?"

"I'll see if I can, but I wouldn't get your hopes up," answered Hermione honestly. "I haven't spent the holidays with Mum and Dad for a while. I doubt I'll be able to get away."

Ron approached her now, and she was glad to see any stiffness between them disappeared as he hugged her. "Have a good Christmas," he instructed, before he gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek.

When Harry came towards her, she gave him a small grin. "Ginny's right, you know." He raised an eyebrow in question. "It is your home now. You should get to do whatever the hell you like with it. Just…" she trailed off.

"What?" Harry prompted.

"Please leave the library alone?" she requested, feeling sheepish.

Harry laughed before enveloping her with a hug. "Don't work too hard," he warned. "I'll know if you do." Hermione watched as her three friends gathered their belongings and disappeared into the throng of students and parents congregating on the platform. Fighting the temptation to go haring after them, she walked away and calmly stepped through the barrier. It was time to go home.

-

The journey home began with the customary hug as she emerged from the barrier and into the main station. Her dad had been awaiting her and gladly took her bag and carried it to the car for her. The drive was as she expected; her father turned on the radio- an oldies station, and she stared out of the window at passing cars and fields as he asked her the usual questions about school, while Crookshanks hissed from the backseat. In fact, the normality unnerved her a little. For the past few months she had been preparing to suffer through a terrible holiday, which inevitably started with the journey home. Hermione began to hope it wouldn't be as awful as she'd thought.

As they pulled into the driveway, Hermione gazed up at her house. It was nothing special, just a regular two-storey, with an extended conservatory and neat flowerbeds beneath the windows.

Hermione opened the door and went round to help her father with her bag and Crookshanks, Joseph Granger shook his head with a smile. "Go right in," he told her. "Your mother's waiting for you." Hermione missed the wince on her father's face as he pulled out the cat carrier. A paw shot out and swiped at his hand. She made her way up the path and opened the front door.

"Mum?" She took off the long cloak she'd been wearing from the station, due to the cold wind outside, and draped it over the banister. The door at the end of the hall that led to the kitchen opened. Margaret Granger came out with a smile, untying the apron from around her waist.

"Hello, dear." She gave her daughter a hug. "Have a good trip?"

"Yes, it was fine."

Her mother pulled the cloak from the banister. "You didn't wear the coat we bought last summer?"

Hermione shook her head. "I didn't want to carry too much and it made sense to bring this since I was wearing it from Hogwarts."

"Hmmm," Margaret began to fold it up. "That's a shame, dear. We'll have to get a new one if we want to go out anywhere. It was such a lovely grey one, too."

Her daughter frowned. "I can just wear-"

"Said hello to Theresa and Jamie, Hermione?" asked her father, coming through the door and pulling off his jacket.

"No, I-

"They're in the living room," her mother told her, ushering her down the hall. "Go and say hello." Without giving Hermione a chance to collect herself, Margaret opened the door and nudged her in, leaving her by herself as she returned to the kitchen. Hermione walked in with a smile.

"I'm home." The couple sitting on the couch immediately got up and there were hugs and greetings all round. Hermione sat down with her aunt and uncle before the TV and answered their questions politely as she regarded them.

Aunt Theresa was her mother's sister. She was tall and thin like Margaret, but she wore her hair long in sleek, loose curls down her back, unlike the older woman who had a neat, short cut, to keep it out of the way. Hermione had privately always thought her aunt to be naturally prettier and wished she'd inherited her hair instead of her mother's.

Uncle Jamie was very unlike his wife and Hermione often wondered how they'd got together in the first place. While Theresa was very easy-going and had a relaxed outlook on life, her uncle was possibly one of the most straight-laced men she'd met. But though he was the more serious of the two, he was friendly and she didn't think she'd ever heard him shout or say a harsh word that was unnecessary. Jamie Warren ran his own medical practice in Cardiff, which was one of the reasons he got on so well with her parents, the dentists.

It was obvious from the moment she saw them that there was something very different from the last time she'd laid eyes on them. Hermione could see it from Uncle Jamie's tired blue eyes and weak smile, and Aunt Theresa's drawn features. Her face, usually full of colour, was pale, matching the darkness below her eyes. There was something missing. From the both of them. Hermione knew exactly what that was. She winced inwardly, as bittersweet memories surfaced now that she was face to face with her aunt and uncle. Not for the first time since receiving her mother's letter, Hermione's guilt surfaced. Butterflies danced in her stomach as she fought the instinctual urge to confess her dirty secret and put them at ease. Hermione smiled weakly before sitting across from the solemn pair of adults, feeling as though she were a five year old caught sneaking sweets before dinner. She sighed inwardly, the evening stretched ahead of them.

-

"Goodnight." Hermione kissed her aunt on the cheek before she and Jamie left the dining room and went up to bed. As she heard their footsteps on the floor above, she stood up to clear the dessert bowls from the table.

"Leave those, dear. I'll clear them up before I go to bed," said Margaret, as Hermione began to stack them up.

"I'll do them, Mum. You just go in and watch the TV."

"Hermione." She stopped at the voice of her father. "The dishes can wait until later."

Hermione looked at him closely. He was speaking in the voice that always suggested something was wrong. She recognized it as the way he talked to patients about unpleasant procedures. She put the bowls back on the table and sat down. "What is it?"

"We've been needing to have a little talk for a while now, dear," said her mother.

Hermione felt the uneasiness kick in. There was no doubt what lay behind Margaret Granger's soft voice. "Look, if this is about school-"

Her father nodded. "And it is-"

Hermione sighed. "Can't we have this discussion after Christmas?"

Joseph Granger shook his head firmly before taking a sip from his coffee. "We think it would be a good idea if we talked about it now, before we get too preoccupied with the holiday."

"But-"

"Darling, you wouldn't talk about it in your summer holiday. You said you'd rather do so now. I'm afraid we can't keep putting it off like this."

"Putting what off? Mum, every time you try to make this point of yours, you end up beating around the bush. What is it you want me to say?" Hermione stared at her mother, daring her to say the very thing she didn't want her to.

Margaret glanced at her husband. "Hermione," he started hesitantly. "We're very aware that Hogwarts has been an…interesting experience for you…and us, these last years. You've learned a lot, and obviously you're a good student, your end-of-year report last summer went so far as to say that you could have taken your final exams then, and surpassed the older students-"

"And we're very proud of that, dear." Her mother reached across the table to pat her hand. Hermione only felt numbly distracted at her comment and her eyes went back to her father who cleared his throat.

"Yes, well, that all contributes to the thoughts your mother and I have been having. Hermione, we've begun to worry that perhaps when you go to university you'll be a little behind your peers."

Hermione frowned, confused. "How can you say that if I can apparently pass the N.E.W.Ts easily?"

There was a shared glance between her parents that made her feel even more unsettled. "Hermione," said Margaret. "We're talking about a normal university."

"So was I… Mum, what makes you think that I don't want to go to a wizarding university rather than a Muggle one?"

"You said you were thinking about it yourself, dear, remember?" Margaret said, her tone soft and patronizing as though she was speaking to a small child.

Hermione felt a slight twinge of irritation. "No, I said I might look into it."

"Don't raise your voice, dear. And did you?"

Hermione suddenly became very interested in the tablecloth. Margaret nodded triumphantly. "I knew you wouldn't. Darling, how do you expect to make a good choice if you haven't even considered which ones you might like to go to by now?"

"Have you considered that I might not care about Muggle universities?" Hermione retorted, with an edge in her voice.

Sensing an argument, Joseph broke in. "Hermione, your mother is just concerned you're not looking at the matter with an open mind."

"What?" Hermione stared at her father disbelievingly. "She's anything but." She looked to her mother. "This university thing is just a taste of what you want, isn't it? You've been like this since last year. What is it you want me to do, Mum?"

Margaret looked down to the table and then met her daughter's eyes firmly. "Hermione," she started carefully. "We in no way want to take away the last seven years from you, but you must realize that once you return from Hogwarts for good, you have to have something to fall back on. A proper education…new friends…you know what I mean."

Hermione began to shake her head, but determined to keep her voice level. "Mum…Dad…Hogwarts is part of something so much bigger. I can go on to university, I can get a good job, I can travel…I can do what I love. It doesn't mean I have to leave all this," she gestured with one of her hands to the room around her, "behind."

Margaret looked to her husband and threw up her hands before getting up and starting to clear the table. "This is exactly what I was talking about, Joseph. She doesn't see here as her home anymore."

"What? Of course I do!" Hermione interjected, annoyed that they were acting as though she weren't in the room. Disbelief crossed her face as the cruel reality of her parents' train of thought came into focus. "Just because I want to do something other then what you want, doesn't mean that this isn't my home anymore."

Her mother turned to look at her. "Hermione, we're telling you what you need to hear. We continued letting you go to that school because you still wanted to come back. You wanted to return to a normal world. And now, because of that place," she added accusingly, "you are wrongly convinced that you don't."

Hermione stood up in shock, her mother had taken her aback. She had always seemed so supportive of her magical education, always accepted that it was part of who she was. Mostly, she was just hurt at her mother's assumption. "Mum, when have I ever been 'normal'? What happened to being glad I was different? I've always made good decisions, you know that- what makes you doubt me now?"

"Hermione! Lower your voice!" It was her father this time.

"Hermione, we do appreciate what you'd like to do, but we're disappointed that you can't see the bigger picture here. We've been very lenient in the last seven years, God knows why, but now it appears we shouldn't have been. We may not know much about magic, dear, but we do know what's good for you."

Hermione sighed. "You know what I want to do," she said shortly. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight." Tears swelled in her eyes, threatening to fall as she fled the dining room. Her heart ached as what remained of her world slowly cracked, shattering behind her as she sought the last refuge open to her.

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Just in case you were getting impatient, a tall, dark and brooding someone will make an appearance in the next chapter.

DistinctVagueness