Mrs and Mr Granger were leaning against a railway overlooking the rest of the station.
Their faces were contorted in a mixture of anxiety and eagerness, dutifully scanning the crowd for their children.
Estella and Hermione spotted them almost instantly.
Their mother's dark brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun though short strands had escaped the hair tie which framed her pale face.
She was wearing black and blue, a colour combination which had been her favourite for as long as they could remember.
Her green-blue eyes which Estella had inherited searched the crowd meticulously. She was biting her lip, a habit Estella also often did whenever she was nervous.
Their father's light brown hair was messy and unbrushed and he wore a flannel. His eyes were framed with a group of crinkles which hinted at how much he smiled, though they looked tired and featured deep dark circles.
Estella felt her smile dropping as she looked at their nature and hurried over faster, calling out "Mum! Dad!" to get their attention. Hermione followed her, always at her side.
As soon as they saw them, Mr and Mrs Granger's faces melted into relieved smiles, and by the time Estella and Hermione finally reached the railing, they had been pulled into tight hugs.
"My dears," Mrs Granger whispered as she leaned down to hug them tighter, "You're okay. We were so worried."
Estella felt guilt course through her as she felt her father reach down to ruffle her hair.
She had been at Hogwarts and hadn't even considered the state of fear her parents must have been in, what with Hermione being petrified and a monster lurking in the halls.
Mrs Granger released them from the hug and scanned her daughters up and down, checking for injuries. Satisfied to find none, she let a sigh pass through her lips.
"Girls," Mr Granger paused, closing his eyes and then opening them, "let's talk in the car."
Estella exchanged a look with Hermione but they allowed themselves to be ushered away by their mother.
Mrs Granger fell into place on the left, placing her right arm around Hermione's shoulder to pull her closer. She took Hermione's trunk in her left hand.
Estella's hand slipped into her father's and he took her trunk as well. Her other hand grasped tight around the handle of her guitar case, with Alora's cage hooked carefully on her finger.
They manoeuvred through the crowd, dodging the overloaded carts and bustling citizens until they finally made it to where Mr Granger had parked the car.
Mr Granger loaded up the trunk while Estella, Hermione and Mrs Granger got into the car. Hermione sat on the left and Estella on the right, just like always.
When Mr Granger had finally got into the car, he leaned back and started driving.
Their mother spoke first.
"We've been thinking," she began and the phrase sounded so ominous that Estella was very much inclined to stare out the window and dream the present away, "that, well," she struggled for words and turned to their father.
Estella watched his eyes in the rearview mirror. They stared straight ahead.
"We think that you two shouldn't return to Hogwarts next year."
"What!?" Hermione and Estella blurted.
"Mum, Dad, you can't be serious," Hermione implored urgently, "I mean- I'm topping all my classes!"
"Wish I could say the same," Estella muttered out of the corner of her mouth, resting her chin in her palm.
"It's not safe for you!" Mrs Granger cried suddenly, twisting in the front passenger seat to face them, her voice full of anguish. "Hermione, you were petrified this year! Petrified! If they hadn't found a cure..." she shuddered and didn't finish her sentence.
"Mum, it's the Wizarding World," Hermione waved her arms around to stress her point, "there's a cure for everything."
"Not everything," Mr Granger said gravely.
Estella swallowed and tried to think of something comforting to say. "I know it's dangerous, but it's the same as if we stayed at a Muggle School, isn't it?" Instantly, she regretted saying anything.
"No, it's not," Mrs Granger protested. "The worst that could happen here is you get bullied or- or fail a class but there-"
"There you could be subjected to god-knows-what," Mr Granger finished for her, taking one hand off the wheel and placing it gently on Mrs Granger's.
"It's not-" Hermione started.
"Last year a troll broke into your school!" Mr Granger yelled suddenly. They reached a red light and he pinched at his brows.
"Eli," Mrs Granger said softly.
Mr Granger sighed. "I'm sorry girls but it's simply not safe."
"Dad, please," Hermione begged.
"As your parents, we can't let you go into danger," Mr Granger said with finality.
"Dad," Estella said quietly, sitting back up straight, "going into the Wizarding World... it's going to be more dangerous but," she breathed in, "but we'll also learn more stuff to combat it- spells and strategies, we can protect ourselves."
Mr Granger was tight-lipped.
"You really want to go back that badly," Mrs Granger said, almost sadly.
"Yes," Hermione said instantly.
Estella thought about it. Sure, it was dangerous and unpredictable and at times stressful and hard, but she had friends, she felt like she belonged. Regardless of how many times her life was threatened or she received a dissatisfactory test mark, she kept returning, didn't she?
"I want to go back," said Estella.
Mr and Mrs Granger exchanged a look, staring at their children in the mirror.
"It's just," Mrs Granger started, choking back a sob, "what if something happens to you two?"
"We're not magic," Mr Granger said, "We can't cast spells or do whatever you do in that school. It worries us, that we can't protect you like we used to. We're adults and we can't even guarantee our daughters their safety." His grip tightened on the steering wheel.
Estella clutched at her robes, suddenly realising the drastic difference between her and her parents. They were ordinary and unburdened, except with perhaps their patient's surgery or, so it seemed their daughters' safety.
"You're growing up so quickly," their mother said with tears in her eyes. "Only thirteen and you're already dealing with all this."
"We can do it," Hermione said confidently.
"It's not safe," Mr Granger said.
Estella could tell they were conflicted, stuck between their daughters' wishes and almost certain unsafety.
"Professor Dumbledore is the Headmaster," Hermione said assuredly, "he can protect us."
Mr Granger gave a scoff-like laugh. "How can we trust your safety to a man we've never met?"
Estella didn't know. "Then trust us," she urged, hoping she could deliver.
No, she would. She could be trusted.
Her parents said nothing.
"One more year," Hermione proposed, "one more year and if we're fine we keep going, okay?"
Estella could hear the unspoken question in her parents' minds. And what if you're not fine?
But it was the only way.
Estella wasn't ready to give it all up. She didn't think she ever would be.
"Please?"
Mr and Mrs Granger stared at each other for what seemed a millennia.
Finally, their father spoke. "Okay."
✰♪
Around a week into the holidays, a letter arrived during breakfast, soaring over the eggs and marmalade and dropping on Hermione's toast.
The owl flapped its wings feebly and then promptly smashed into the marmalade jar.
"Oh dear," Mrs Granger said, startled. "Uh, Estella, Hermione, dears, can you-"
"On it," Estella said immediately as Hermione tore open the letter, making her way over to the owl who was undoubtedly Erol, meaning that the letter was from Ron.
She coaxed Erol up and propped him against a cereal box.
"Just a sec," she said as she ran upstairs to her room. She strode quickly over to Alora's cage, waved to her owl and then picked up a few owl treats.
She brought them downstairs and placed them in front of the owl and then walked into the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with a small bowl of water which she set down next to the treats.
"We can't have one normal breakfast, can we," Mr Granger said with a chuckle, still eyeing the owl rather apprehensively.
Estella laughed. "We can try."
Mr Granger raised an eyebrow, peering down at Erol. "Well, I suppose this is the new normal. Lottie, pass the knife will you?"
Mrs Granger passed him the knife with a bemused smile. "Thanks, dear," she said to Estella as she sat back down.
"So?" Estella nudged Hermione. "What does it say?"
Hermione frowned and set down the letter, rubbing her face in exasperation. "Ronald that idiot," she exclaimed. She turned to Estella. "Ron called Harry on the telephone."
Estella's eyes widened, interested. "How'd it go?"
"Terrible," Hermione groaned. "Apparently Harry's uncle picked up and he was super upset and probably got Harry into a lot of trouble."
"Why? What did Ron say?"
"He yelled into the telephone and told him he was a 'friend of Harry's from school'."
"Of course," Estella leaned back into her chair, amused.
"That means we probably won't be able to call Harry either," Hermione huffed.
The smile slid off Estella's face. "Wait what? Why?"
"Because they're probably not in the mood for another phone call from Harry's school friends- he might get into a lot of trouble."
Estella frowned. "Can't we say we're someone else? Pretend and all that?"
Hermione shook her head. "They'll be on high alert and besides, we shouldn't risk it."
"Fine," Estella grumbled, crossing her arms.
"Why are you so eager anyway?" Hermione retorted.
"Can't I show some interest in my friend's wellbeing?" Estella said slightly defensively. Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"If you must know we almost died together last month so I'd say I have a right to be concerned." Estella stopped and aimed a sideways glance at her parents.
They had dropped the topic of not going back to Hogwarts but she and Hermione had been treading on thin ice the past week so as not to open a sore wound.
Mrs Granger's lips were pursed but she said nothing.
"This boy," Mr Granger said conversationally, "are you close with him?"
Estella furrowed her brow. "I mean, he's my friend- he's one of Hermione's best friends."
"Hm," was all he said before returning to buttering his toast.
Estella and Hermione caught each other's eyes and lapsed into a fit of silent giggles.
"Well," said Mrs Granger, "have you two both finished packing? We have to leave soon."
Hermione nodded. "I couldn't bring all my books though," she said with a faint frown, "they exceeded the weight limit- I checked."
Estella turned to her. "Are you planning to open your own library in Paris?" she joked.
"Oh shush," Hermione shoved her playfully. "Besides, you haven't even finished your packing."
"Yes, I have! I finished yesterday night." Estella groaned, "I don't want to bring all my school books on our vacation."
"Did you finish the History of Magic essay?"
"What essay?"
"About why 'Witch-Burning in the Fourteenth Century was Completely Pointless'," Hermione stated, punctuating each word with a jab of her finger.
"Ah, that one," said Estella. "I'll do it when we get back."
"You will not!" Hermione asserted.
"Estella," Mr Granger said sternly, "We agreed to let you and your sister attend this school against our better judgement you know. However, if you start slacking off, we will reconsider."
"Yes Dad," Estella rolled her eyes and sighed. Then, she faced Hermione again. "Say, how many books did you bring?"
"All our school ones," Hermione replied. "Some are in the suitcase; I put Hogwarts: A History in my carry-on."
Estella grinned. "Brilliant! Then I won't bring any of mine."
"Wait what!?" Hermione protested. "No no, you have your own books- go pack them instead."
"Not enough space in the suitcase," Estella said in a sing-song voice. She placed a hand on her chest and said solemnly, "It's the only way. I must make this sacrifice."
She ducked as Hermione swatted at her, laughing.
"I'll go get ready," said Estella and she hurried up the stairs before Hermione attempted another blow.
"What about the owl?" Mr Granger called after her.
"It'll go on its own," she yelled down, "and 'Mione'll probably be sending a letter back so you don't have to worry about it. Just leave a window open."
She slowed, still laughing, and walked into her night-themed room. The stars painted on the ceiling twinkled down at her, smiling.
She walked over to her vanity and sat down, pulling her box of hair ties closer to her. She selected two and started loosely braiding her hair. She had begun to favour this hairstyle recently and had indeed improved in making it look more even.
She finished and stared at herself in the mirror.
It'll be okay. I'll have fun these holidays. She smiled at her reflection and fixed the baby hairs which had grown and now framed her face.
She aimed a glance at her guitar, which her parents had forbade her from bringing, stating that it was 'too heavy' and 'inconvenient.'
Estella walked back over to Alora's cage. The tawny owl's black and brown speckled feathers fluttered gently in the cage.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, unclicking the lock that held the door shut. "I can't bring you to France with me. Customs would never allow it and I don't want you to tire yourself out flying all the way over there."
Alora tilted her head and blinked her dark brown eyes.
Estella stroked the feathers down her back gently.
"Here," she said, opening the door fully. She pointed out to the land outside of the window. "You have fun these holidays. I'll leave the window unlocked- Godric knows you'll be able to get back inside you clever bird."
Alora nudged her hand with her beak, gave one last small hoot and then flew out of the window, the sun dancing on her wings.
Estella sighed and smiled, watching the owl's ascent until she lost her in the clouds.
Have fun, she thought, I'll see you when I'm back.
She pushed herself off the window frame and grabbed her star-shaped bag, making her way back downstairs.