Work Text:
—summer reading—
Hermione couldn’t wait to get her hands on the summer reading list at the end of the school year- the feeling of a book, fiction or non-fiction, leaving her excited for the next adventure, but going to Hogwarts—
“I’ll be going on an adventure, a real one,” Hermione told her, as he brushed dark locks of curling hair away from his eyes, smiling at her as he prepared the family meal, the smells drifting through the kitchen while her mother started a load of laundry from their camping trip in the room as Hermione sat at the table, book cracked open.
“Yes, you are,” her father said, meat sizzling in the pan. No magic was used to cook, yet her father always managed delicious meals.
“Why don’t you cook more often?” she once asked her mother.
“Because cooking is a stress reliever for your father,” her mother said. “So I focus on other things around the house, but I learned a long time ago that it’s easier to go with the flow.”
Hermione opened her mouth to talk about her summer reading with her father, as she always did every summer, always knowing he read the summer reading with her, only to stop short, look at her book, and frown.
“What’s the matter, Hermione?” he asked, starting to plate the food. “And books up as food is ready.”
“It’s weird, not being able to talk to you about my summer reading,” Hermione said, closing the book.
“Well, we’re dentists,” her mother said. “A rather safe job compared to being a witch, I guess, as it must be quite unpredictable.”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone to talk about your summer reading with,” her father said, the corner of his mouth twisting up, a rather wistful look on his face as Hermione’s mother helped move plates and such to the table so the family could eat together in a calm, collected manner. “And I’m sure you’ll do quite well, my studious little bird.”
Hermione’s mother laughed. “Much like you?”
Eyes blinked, mouth formed a circle while Hermione ducked down, trying not to chuckle at her mother teasing her father as his cheeks flushed slightly and he rubbed the back of his neck, giving a rather sheepish look.
—summer reading—
Hermione looked forward to talking about the summer reading with her future classmates, only—
The girl she would eventually learn to be Lavender Brown and one of her dorm mates—
Her heart sank in that moment, thoughts turning to Muggle school and how her studious little bird nature stood out.
“Never not be yourself,” her father once said. “Don’t change for anybody.”
An odd predicament, given how she didn’t fit in with her dorm mates.