Lady Tonks, Lord Potter

Late for Hogwarts

September 1, 1997

As she sat down to breakfast for the first time in her life Hermione Granger was not bursting at the seams to get on with school. It had been so hard to return to something approaching normalcy this time, she thought, as she watched her mum sit down with a cup of tea. True, she would soon make the trip to Platform 9 ¾, but this year would be different. Very different. This time it would only be her mum that would ask if she had all of her things packed in her trunk, knowing full well that she'd done that ages ago. It was her father who always teased her just enough to let her know that he was taking the mickey but not so much as to make her feel that he was being hard on her. Now? Now there wasn't much teasing in the little house in Hampstead. Instead it was quiet, very, very quiet. Only the small sounds of breakfast, the knife and fork on the plate, tea cups settling on the table, the rustle of the newspaper.

She stared down at her plate. For some reason it seemed as if the most odd things in the world had ended up there as she just couldn't touch anything.

Eventually, noticing the silence, Gemma angled the paper down and looked across the table at her daughter. "You need to eat something, Hermione."

"I know Mum, but..."

"But what? Have to set a good example, you know. You are Head Girl."

Hermione sighed. "Daddy would have been so happy."

"I'm sure he is, darling. I'm sure he is." She folded the newspaper and sat it to the side. "Nee-Nee, I miss him, too."

That made Hermione's chest tighten; Nee-Nee was her father's nickname for her. Its what he called her when they had the talks, the talks when she came home from school and told him how the other girls treated her horribly because of her hair, because of her teeth, because she actually applied herself at lessons. And now he was gone.

"Some days are better than others."

Hermione's head shot up to look at her mum. "What?"

With a sigh Gemma reached across the table and took her daughter's hand. "Some days are better than others. Some days are harder, especially important days. You know how I was on our anniversary. Today's going to be a hard day because of the routine. He's not here to take you to the station. It gets easier but it never really goes away; eventually it just hurts a bit less." She let go of her daughter's hand and took up her cup of tea. After a sip, and after ensuring that Hermione finally had a mouthful of eggs, she sat back and decided that her daughter needed to keep things in perspective. "Sweetie, who is the one who Headmistress McGonagall contacted about changing the school? You. Who's the one who has spent hours telling me how the magical world needs to change? You. You're going to be eighteen in eighteen days, sweetie. You're an adult in the magical world and will be one soon in the other, don't let grief take over everything you've wanted to accomplish. For God's sake, you work for Harry's goblin. Who would have thought that possible? What did your father always say about possibilities?"

A sad smile crept across Hermione's face. "Possibilities are what happens when you prepare and work for it."

"Precisely." Gemma looked up at the clock. "Is Charlie coming over before you leave?"

"No." She looked down at her plate quickly. "We said our goodbyes at the Lodge."

"You don't have to tell me. I understand. He should know that your schooling comes first."

"No, Mum." Hermione looked up and ran a hand through her messy hair, pulling it together and over her shoulders. "If anything I was the one who...he told me that I had to come back and set an example. That it wouldn't be that long and that we would write." She slumped in her chair. "I'm just afraid that even with the letters it won't be the same."