Defining Identity

Hermione took a giant bite of her sausage and courgette pilaf, hoping her noncommittal nod would end the conversation. She could feel her annoyance rising. It was time for another change of subject. She racked her brain for a topic her parents could discuss at length (and tried not to focus on the fact that she also had no idea what her parents were up to these days).

"So, how is the practice going?" Hermione asked after swallowing, hoping to steer the conversation into safer waters. "Any interesting cases coming up?"

To her relief, both parents eagerly dove into a discussion about an upcoming case involving a patient who had tried to give himself a root canal. Hermione nodded and gasped at the right moments, her mind wandering.

"Do you remember when you used to help us with our cases?" Bert asked, a nostalgic grin spreading across his face.

"I certainly do," Hermione said, her own smile tinged with bittersweet memories.

"Those were the days, weren't they?" Bert continued, his eyes twinkling.

"Uh huh," Hermione murmured, ready to take another giant bite depending on where the conversation went.

"We have been thinking," Bert continued, "and wondering what your plans are after Hogwarts."

"Oh!" Hermione said, her mind racing. "Well, I'm not sure. The specifics change quite a bit, but I definitely know I'd like to work in the Ministry of Magic. I'm not one for politics, but Ministry workers have a lot of influence on the Wizarding World. Whilst I think there's a lot of good that goes on, there are a few things I'd like to-"

"So you're planning on staying in the Wizarding World when you're finished?" Mary asked, hesitation lacing her voice.

Hermione frowned. "As opposed to… what?"

"Coming home and going to University," Mary said.

"Taking over the dentistry practice," added Bert.

Hermione wasn't sure what she expected them to say, but it certainly wasn't that.

"With all due respect," Hermione said measuredly, "why wouldn't I want to remain in the Wizarding World?"

"Well," Mary said, "it's one thing to embrace magic in secondary school, but beyond that?"

"It's just not practical," Bert finished.

"How is it not practical?" Hermione demanded, her voice rising with the surge of anger.

"Maybe practical is the wrong word," Mary interjected quickly.

"I'd say so," Hermione retorted.

"Sensible is more what I was thinking," Bert said, his tone cautious.

Hermione was speechless. She stared at her parents as if she didn't know them, because, at that moment, she didn't.

"Be realistic, Hermione," Mary said gently.

"What is 'realistic,' Mother, is that I am a witch. A real witch. And I will 'realistically' be a witch for the rest of my life whether you like it or not."

Mary's eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Bert looked stunned, his fork frozen midway to his mouth.

"Hermione, please," Mary finally whispered. "We just want what's best for you."

"And you think what's best for me is to abandon everything I've worked for? Everything I am?" Hermione's voice cracked, her anger mingling with the pain of feeling misunderstood. "You don't understand. You've never tried to understand!"

"Hermione, that's not fair," Bert said, his voice firmer now. "We've always supported you."

"Supported me?" Hermione laughed bitterly. "By wanting me to leave behind the magical world? By expecting me to follow a path you've chosen for me, without even asking what I want?"

Her parents exchanged glances, their faces etched with worry and confusion. Hermione's heart ached at the sight, but she couldn't back down now.

"You're asking me to choose between the two halves of my life," Hermione said, her voice softer but no less intense. "But I can't. Magic isn't just something I do. It's who I am. Asking me to leave it behind is asking me to stop being myself."

Bert put down his fork, his expression sombre. "We're not trying to make you choose, Hermione. We just... we miss you. We miss the time when we were all closer."

Hermione's anger flared again. "You think I don't miss it too? But things have changed. I've changed. And you need to accept that."

Silence fell over the table, heavy and suffocating. Hermione stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I need some air," she said, her voice trembling. "I can't... I just can't do this right now."

She nearly knocked over the table in her haste to leave. As she stormed up the stairs, she heard her mother call her name, but she couldn't stop. It wasn't until she reached her room and slammed the door shut that the tears began to flow, hot and unchecked.

Hermione threw herself onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow. The sobs came in waves, each one wracking her body with a ferocity that left her feeling drained and hollow. She felt like she was being torn apart, caught between two worlds that could never truly understand each other.

After a while, she sat up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She looked around her room, at the Hogwarts trunk, the scattered books, and the knitting bag in the corner. These were the pieces of her life, fragments of her identity that she couldn't abandon, no matter how much her parents wished otherwise.

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She knew this fight wasn't over, and there would be more difficult conversations ahead. But for now, she needed to hold on to who she was and the world she belonged to. And she needed to find a way to make her parents understand that this was her reality, and it was here to stay.