A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words (Harry Potter Fanfic)

Wandering Soul

"Please don't have a panic attack. Please don't," Hermione thought to herself as she hurried along the cobblestone in search of both her parents, worried her father might have turned off on one of the side streets instead of taking a straight path. "Please don't have a panic attack, papa."

"Hermione!" she heard her mother call out.

The lack of worry in her mother's tone of voice made Hermione let out a sigh of relief, and she hurried over to where her mother was waving at her while her father crouched down, watching a mother cat clean one of her kittens while the other two wrestled with each other. Hermione felt the corner of her mouth curl slightly. "Of course, he managed to follow an animal somewhere."

She watched her father look up, black locks cascading around his forehead above his silver-gray eyes. He pointed at the kittens, and her mother said rather quickly. "No, dear. We can't take them home with us."

Hermione watched her father stand up, brushing off his pants despite getting nothing on them before jamming his hands into his pockets. The entire time, he looked at the mother cat and her kittens. The rather forlorn look on his face resulted in Hermione turning her head to suppress a chuckle at her father being unable to hide his passion for animals which sometimes made her wonder why he'd not become a vet instead of a dentist.

She took a deep breath, noticing they could no longer see Notre-Dame de Dijon from where they were, making her wonder how her father managed to see the mother cat or any of her kittens in the first place. Letting it out, she turned, having gained her composure, quickly hugged the man while muttering into the back of his sweater vest, his preferred style when going casual. "Don't scare me like that."

"Huh?" he said. Hermione felt him turn his head to look over his shoulder at her; then he turned to look at his wife. "What happened?"

"You wandered off again," Hermione's mother said.

"But why was," he started to say.

Hermione hugged him tighter. "What if you had one of your panic attacks, and neither of us was there?"

He turned then, returning her hug. He gently ran fingers through her bushy brown hair. "Sorry for scarring you."

"Hermione," her mother said from nearby. "I'm sure your dad would have been fine."

Hermione pulled away, gently rubbing her eyes. "Yes, but when he wanders off like that."

She didn't finish the sentence, instead looking at the ground. She took a deep breath as her dad placed his hands gently on her shoulder, calmly saying, "What is it?"

"I've noticed when you wander off like that, get distracted, and aren't focused, you're more prone to having a panic attack," Hermione said, wiping her eyes again. "Sorry. I know I shouldn't have been worried."

"Is this," her father started to say. "Does this have to do with last year? When we...."

"Hey. No talking about magic, remember?" Hermione's mother said. "Or the trip for school supplies last summer."

"Yes, but," he started to say.

"Hermione understands, dear," her mother said. "What matters is you tried. We tried, and she knows we support her one hundred percent."

"I want to do more."

"For your own mental health, no," Hermione's mother said. "This trip, we're going to act like we're a family of Muggles and forget about what happened last summer. And we're going to have fun. You are having fun, aren't you, dear."

He turned, looking at the mother and her kittens, only for the mother cat to decide it was time to leave. He held up his hand, watching in dismay as the cat and her kittens left, his mouth twisting into a frown. Hermione reached up a hand and grasped the back of his vest. "If you like, I could ask if there's any place nearby where we could go and see animals. Or even a park where we could sit and eat lunch. You and I could sit and read while mother gets lunch, right?"

"I do like reading," he said. He glanced up at Hermione's mother. "Sorry. I know you wanted to do something more touristy."

Hermione looked over at her mother, with her straight brown hair and brown eyes. She smiled at her father. "No. It's fine. We do what we need to do, rabbit dear. And I get it all too well. We can always go tomorrow to see some of the Muggle sites."

A friendly French person gave directions to the nearest park and what they could find to eat nearby, and Hermione found herself sitting at the park watching the pigeons peck at whatever they could find on the sidewalk while reading a Muggle book so that her father might not ask questions that might overstimulate him. It was quiet and peaceful, contrasting to three-headed dogs and Quidditch matches.

"Sorry."

Hermione was startled, turning her head to look at her father, who continued reading his book, black strands of hair falling in front of his silver-gray eyes as he leaned forward. "What for?"

"For what happens whenever I get overstimulated? For not being a normal dad."

"You're a great dad," Hermione said, laughing. "What other dad will sit and read with his daughter like this?"

She watched him lift his head, tilting slightly, his mouth twisting in amusement. "I don't know."

"Didn't grandmother and grandfather do the same when you were younger?"

"My parents," her father started to say, his breath sucking in. He sat up straight, closing the book, his mouth closing. He hummed, then, "Your grand-mère and grand-père aren't my biological parents. They're your mothers, so they never had a chance to read to me when I was younger like they did their biological children and grandchildren."

"Your real parents?" Hermione asked.

She watched her father frown, and then he said. "They are my real parents." He turned his head, smiling at her. "That's what matters, really."

So many questions whirled around in her head, yet she knew so many were likely off-limits. She finally settled on saying. "I should have guessed, though."

"Oh?"

"Well, they could only be the biological parents of one of you, and there are plenty of pictures of mother from infancy, but none of you. But I guess that's what is meant by them being your real parents, right? Even though you're biologically not related, they're family to the point you can't tell at first glance."

"Yeah," he said, turning back to his book. "And much better than the family I had."

"So, definitely an off-limits topic?" Hermione asked.

Her father reached up a hand to gently ruffle her bushy brown hair, yet she knew that was his way of affirming.