Upside Down Mirror: Granger Yet

Tumbling

"You're kidding, right?" Hermione stared, her mind telling her that must be the truth.

"I'm not."

"It can't be, though!" Hermione took a deep breath, staring at her mother wide-eyed. "I mean, dad always told me to be true to myself, yet you're telling me he did the exact opposite of that! I mean, I don't know how many times he told me not to change who I am simply because someone else tells me that I'm wrong for being myself, only for him not to take his own advice! It doesn't make sense."

"Except he did take his own advice," Hamlet Granger said, continuing to lean against the kitchen counter, frowning, glaring at Mr. Weasley, making it clear that he was very unsure of the Wizard in their presence while Hermione looked at her uncle, confused regarding how he could say such a thing.

"Mrs. Granger?" Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. Hermione turned her head to look at the red-haired wizard, feeling somewhat nervous with the direction the conversation had gone, particularly since she couldn't think of a reason off the top of her head why her father would keep such a thing from her.

"Yes?" her mother smiled, speaking softly, yet there was—as Hermione turned her head again so she could look at her mother to try and gauge the situation better, a definite glint of worry in her mother's brown eyes.

"You mentioned something about your husband not returning home, that things didn't go as planned. Does his leaving yesterday have anything to do with what's happening in the Wizarding community right now?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Hermione stiffened, sitting up straight. "That's not possible." In some ways, she felt like she did on the train her first year, telling Ron that his spell to turn his rat yellow wouldn't work, that Fred and George had tricked him. "I'm the one with the subscription to a Wizarding paper, not my parents, so he can't know!"

And then came the silence that made Hermione even more nervous; there was no getting around how she could see the adults in the room becoming nervous. Mr. Weasley opened his mouth only to decide he 'd instead sip his tea as if debating how to say something. As for her family, Hermione watched her uncle look at the ceiling, still against the counter, while her mouth glanced away, crossing her arms.

None of the adults said anything—that might have been what made it click that there was a way, a way that made Hermione 's stomach churn as the only way was, in her mind, a worse nightmare. Her voice tightened. "Mom." Olivia Granger turned her head to look at her, attempting to smile. "Please tell me dad's not a Death Eater. Please."

"Former Death Eater." The words made her startle, partly because she'd not expected anyone to add that caveat to the title, but what surprised her even more was how those words came not from her mother or her uncle. Instead, they came from Mr. Weasley, who was frowning. "What kind of trouble is your husband in?"

"Family trouble," her mother said.

"Family trouble," Hermione's voice strained. "What kind of family trouble could dad possibly be in? And why aren't you more concerned, mom, that you married a Death Eater?" Hermione swallowed. "Is it because you don't know what that means, being a Death Eater?"

"More than you do," her mother said firmly, making Hermione swallow, feeling like she wanted to cry, not understanding how her mother could so easily betray her like that—for it felt like a betrayal.

"Mom! Death Eaters torture and kill Muggles! They torture and kill Muggleborn! I don't understand why you would marry him knowing that!"

"Because he's a wonderful dance partner and has a cute butt," her mother said.