As Hermione Weasley walked up to her old bedroom, the agreed upon apparition point in her parents' house, she stopped on the stairs and turned around. A smile formed on her face as she watched her parents cleaning up after their monthly family dinner. She could see the smiles on their faces and hear the small laughs, clearly happy after having spent another dinner with their daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren.

It was hard to believe that tonight marked twenty years since she had found them and returned their memories. She had hated the fact that she had needed to modify their memories, removing their memories of having a daughter and being the Grangers. She had done everything she needed to do to ensure their safety. She had worked with Kingsley Shacklebolt to get all the appropriate paperwork (each document being spelled with enough compulsions to ensure officials would always accept that everything was in order), and she had ensured the business aspects and immigration issues were all settled. She had done all of this without consulting with her parents, since she knew that they would have never agreed to the memory modification. She had known that it could have easily been seen as a betrayal, and she was prepared to accept their hatred as long as they were alive.

And they had survived, so it was all worth it. She still marveled and how well everything had worked out.

An 18-year-old Hermione walked up to the front door of the house of Monica and Wendell Wilkins, her stomach twisting itself into knots. As luck would have it, her parents had been in the phonebook and had settled in Melbourne as she had strongly suggested in the memories she had implanted. As such, it had only taken her three days to track down her parents (still less than a month since Voldemort's fall). Gathering her courage, she rang the doorbell.

Her breath caught when her father answered the door, looking happy and healthy. It hurt seeing the complete lack of recognition in her father's eyes. Before she could talk however, her father spoke first.

"Can I help you?"

Hermione cleared her throat. "Pardon me for disturbing you, but are you Wendell Wilkins?"

"Yes"

"Is you wife, Monica Wilkins, home as well?"

"She is. What is this about?"

"My name is Hermione Granger, and I was wondering if I could come in for a moment to talk with you both?"

"Listen, Miss Granger, neither my wife nor I are looking to buy whatever it is you're selling, so if…"

He never got to finish what he was going to say, as his eyes lost their focus due to the Confundus charm that Hermione had just cast on him. She knew it was not legal to do this, but she was already planning on casting another spell on them that evening, so what was one more?

Hermione looked into her father's confused eyes and spoke. "You were just about to invite me into the house. Correct?"

"I… was I? Oh yes, please come in. Monica, honey, we have company. Please, Miss Granger have a seat and tell us… I'm sorry I forgot what you wanted."

As she walked into the house, she subtly cast a Homenum Revelio to confirm that the house only held her and her parents. She had done so outside as well, but it never hurt to be careful. As she took the offered seat in front of her parents, she pulled out her wand and cast the counter to the memory modification spell she had originally cast.

She watched as the confusion filled her parents' faces, and then slowly faded until she finally saw the recognition dawn in their eyes. It was time to face the music.

"Hermione? What… where… what happened?" asked her mother.

And so, she told them everything. She told them of the war with Voldemort. She told them of her role in the fight. And she told them how she had modified their memories to keep them safe. She winced as she saw the concern grow on her mother's face, and the anger growing on her father's face.

"… and that brings us to me coming here to return your memories. You can come home to England now that it's safe."

Her father spoke with a barely controlled anger. "So, you decided to take away our memories to keep us safe. I see. And why didn't you ask for our opinion on the matter?"

Hermione spoke gently and earnestly, hoping her father would understand. "If I had asked, you would have said no. You… are muggles, so you couldn't really understand what was going on, and I didn't have the time to make you understand. Please, daddy, I did it for your own good. Can't you see that?"

Her father had clearly almost lost his control, as he began to speak very slowly. "What I see is…"

Hermione would never know what he saw, as her mother placed her hand on her father's shoulder and shook her head. Her mother spoke calmly. "Perhaps we should be given some time to think on things. Why don't you come over tomorrow around noon, Hermione, so that your father and I can discuss things tonight."

After an awkward goodbye, she did leave. And miraculously, the night seemed to have done wonders. When she came the next day, her parents were all smiles and had agreed that Hermione had been right to do what she did. They agreed to pack things up in Australia and move back to England.

A present-day Hermione smiled at the memory of that second day's reunion. And from that point forward, everything had been wonderful. Even some of the long-standing issues between them disappeared. Clearly, her parents had finally come around to respect her as an adult. They no longer criticized her for what they viewed as her choosing "being right" over "being a good friend". They no longer expressed their concerns about Ron. They had happily attended the wedding, and treated Ron like a true son. They were doting grandparents, though her children found them a bit boring.

Oh, there had been occasional moments of tension. Sometimes they would do something she didn't like, but she found that mentioning it just once was enough to get them to stop. When she felt that they were spoiling the grandkids by letting them watch TV before bed, they stopped. When she felt that they could be more generous with helping to invest in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, they had increased their annual investments (it helped to keep Ron employed after all).

Even the one moment of great concern had been resolved quickly. About a year after returning from Australia, her mother had told her that she was thinking of leaving her father. Hermione had, of course, been upset. She had insisted that she didn't think divorce would be good for her parents. She recommended they get counseling. She had been greatly worried about her parents acting rashly, but then the next month her mother told her the issue was resolved. After that, her parents had the ideal marriage.

It had been a long twenty years, not perfect to be sure, but her relationship with her parents had felt like a dream.

With a final smile, Hermione turned back to the stairs and made her way to her room. With a loud crack, she disapparated from her parents' home and apparated back to her own home.

Life was good!

As the Grangers finished cleaning up, smiles on their faces, they heard the familiar crack that said that Hermione had left. Mrs. Granger went upstairs to confirm they were now home by themselves.

"She's gone"

With that, the smiles immediately disappeared from their faces. Another visit completed. The two both went to their individual rooms (as they had long since stopped sleeping in the same room) and retrieved their journals. Both reviewed their journals, to check to see if their memories matched their planned topics of conversation. As satisfied as they could be that their memories remained unchanged, they both prepared for bed.

For twenty years they had followed this pattern, ever since that day when Hermione had deigned them worthy to have their own memories again. It wasn't foolproof, but it gave them some sense of assurance that they had avoided their daughter's wand.

Like Hermione, they also remembered that day she arrived at the home of the Wilkins.

After seeing Hermione leave, Mr. Granger turned to his wife and spoke with quiet anger. "Why did you stop me from telling her off, Monica? Aren't you angry!?"

Mrs. Granger's eyes flashed with fierce fire. "Of course, I am angry! I am livid! You heard her just as well as I did. She didn't talk to us about her plans for one simple reason, we are muggles. We are her parents, we are adults, but she doesn't respect us enough to let us have a say in how we go about protecting our lives. She attacked us, she violated our minds, because she thought it was for our own good. But she didn't talk to us because we lack magic and can't possibly be trusted to make decisions for our own good. That's not how you treat an adult that you respect as a person, that's how you treat a small child… or a pet! I am bursting at the seams with rage! But… I'm also terrified. What if she decides that us being angry is not for our own good? Will she change our memories until we act in accordance with her preferences?"

Mr. Granger's face paled. "She… she wouldn't do that! Would she? I mean, this war was an extreme sort of thing, she wouldn't modify our minds again for something less than that. No, I can't believe that!"

Mrs. Granger reached out to her husband to comfort him but stopped herself. It was just as well, as Mr. Granger subconsciously had recoiled from her hand. "I don't want to believe that she would do it, but… what if she decides us staying here would be bad for us? What if she decides us being angry is bad for our health? I know she loves us, but what if she keeps lowering her threshold for what merits her violating our minds again?"

"So, what do we do? What can we do?"

"Well, I don't think there is anything we can do to stop her. So… we lie. We pretend to be happy and do everything to make sure she is happy with us. She would make us like that anyway. If I am going to be forced to live a lie, I least want to know it is a lie."

Mr. Granger rubbed his hands over his face, and then looked back at his wife. "You might be right, Monica. We can't even tell Hermione how we feel, because she might decide it would be best if we never knew what she did. I hate this!"

Mrs. Granger sighed. "Me too. You know what else I hate? You keep calling me Monica, but she was a figment of our daughter's imagination. I look at you and see both you and the fictional person named Wendell. What the hell do I do with that feeling?"

Over the years, the Grangers lived their lives as best they could. They worked, they had hobbies, and they took notes every day to describe their thoughts so they could check for signs of memory modification.

Their marriage had long since died. They still loved each other, but they were never able to get over their year as the Wilkins couple. Wendell and Monica had been a highly physical married couple, but for the Grangers that meant that had many memories of nights of passion where their bodies were used to perform intimate acts without their own consent. Every time the Grangers tried to touch, they would feel a simultaneous feeling of guilt for cheating, and a soul-deep sense of violation. When Mrs. Granger broached ending the marriage, Hermione had said it wouldn't be good for her parents, which too deeply reminded them of having their memory modified for their "own good". So, they put on a show for Hermione, and simply lived as housemates the rest of the time.

When their grandchildren came around, they were genuinely excited. They knew they couldn't compete with the magical relatives, but they were happy to be able to give them treats that they couldn't get in the magic world. Then Hermione sucked the joy out of it by expressing her unhappiness with something as simple as TV, which they supposed was too "muggle" for their daughter. Not willing to risk being attacked by their daughter, they became the boring grandparents who doted in a "Hermione-approved" fashion.

When Hermione had come asking for some donations (she had called it an investment, but they never saw any return on it) to help bolster the Weasley prank store, they were able to get the requested money. When she asked for more, they were able to tighten their belts to provide more. When she had asked for more, they had expressed that they couldn't really afford more. Her response of feeling like they didn't believe in her husband was enough of a threat that they started dipping into their retirement savings.

Mr. Granger had once thought about leaping in front of a train to free his wife from being stuck in their dead marriage. But he remembered Hermione mentioning that the dark wizard had managed to come back to life once. For all he knew, Hermione would just use some magic ritual to bring him back to life, and then he would have made things worse for him and his wife.

It had been a long twenty years, horrific to be sure, and their relationship with their daughter had felt like a nightmare.

With a final nod to each other, the Grangers made their way to their separate bedrooms. With a loud slam, they left their shared living space and entered their own rooms.

Life was hell!