Updating as regularly as possible!
Disclaimer: as much as I wish, none of the recognizable characters are mine. This is my first story... do read and review! Can you spot the 'cameo shots'?
Mr. and Mrs. Granger, of Burrington Road number 24, were surprised-and proud-to be the parents of a witch. They hadn't expected it, of course, because they were very respectable, normal people, but that did not mean that they disapproved of their daughter's magical nature. On the contrary, they liked oddities and unusual mysteries.
The Grangers were both dentists. Mr. Granger was the chief dentist at Granger Dentistry and Orthodontics, that, needless to say, dealt with teeth, unwilling teenagers who didn't want braces, and, unfortunately, a couple who never brushed their teeth, but instead ate burnt toast that they claimed was good for their teeth. Apparently it wasn't, because every time they came to the dental office, they had to get crowns, or fillings, or some other painful intervention in their mouth. Mr. Granger was a very skinny man, with salt-and-pepper hair and a small beard, carefully trimmed. Mrs. Granger had a small dentist office at home, which catered to children. She was quite pretty, although her brown hair was very bushy. She spent most of her time dealing with screaming children, screaming toddlers, and bored babies, which eventually led to screaming babies.
The Grangers had a little girl, named Hermione, and they loved her dearly.
They had everything that they could wish for, and yet they still weren't happy: they didn't want to be monotonous. They couldn't bear that their family was unique, yet not very unusual. But like all families, they had one secret: they were related to the unlikeable, prejudiced Dursley family. Mrs. Granger's maiden name had been Potter, and her brother, James, had married Lily Evans, who's sister, Petunia, had married Vernon Dursley.
The Dursleys were the embarrassment of the family, and therefore they were never mentioned. Once a year, however, out of pure courtesy, they went to see them. They hated having to do that, especially since the last times that they had made this family visit, the Potters hadn't come. Mr. Granger had decided that, if the Potters didn't come this time, there would be no use for these family reunions, and that would be the end of it. Mrs. Granger agreed wholeheartedly. They knew that the Dursleys had a little son named Dudley, of all names, around one year old, and so did the Potters, but lately they hadn't heard much from the latters, so they couldn't really know. They were pretty sure he was called Harry, but it might have been Harvy, or Henry, too.
One cloudy morning, as Mr. Granger searched for his toothbrush while choosing his socks (he couldn't decide between green-and-red plaid or green-and-orange stripes), and Mrs. Granger fed little Hermione while distractedly rattling off the preliminary signs of a light-moderate gum disease, something extremely unusual happened: an owl flew by the window. Mr. Granger smiled and looked up, saying, "Oh, an owl in the daytime! How peculiar!"
"I suppose he just wants to stand out out from his peers," Mrs. Granger commented.
"Or maybe he's protesting against the owl tradition of sleeping during the day," joked her husband.
"Maybe," Mrs. Granger agreed, laughing.
Mr. Granger glanced at the clock. "Dear me!" he said. "I'll be late!" He grabbed his briefcase, and after pecking Mrs. Granger on the cheek and ruffling Hermione's hair, he rushed out the door. "See you later!" he shouted.
He walked down the road to the nearest bus stop, noting as he went past that a cat was looking at the bus schedule. He smiled to himself. He could already tell that this day was going well. The bus came at that moment, he got on it and punched his ticket. He saw that there were a few people who were trying to figure out how to punch their ticket, and he helped them, noting as he did so that they were dressed rather strangely, wearing some sort of cloak. He didn't mind; everybody had the right to dress as they wished, as long as their clothes didn't disturb or show disrespect to others, as he always said. Mr. Granger arrived at the dental office in an excellent mood.
His morning was remarkable. Apart from his usual things, such as lecturing the aforementioned elderly couple on the fact that burnt toast was not good for their teeth, applying braces to unwilling teenagers, and cleaning his client's teeth, he saw that there were an abundant amount of owls that swooped by his window. "The protest against daytime sleeping hours must have many participants," he thought, chuckling to himself.
At noon, he looked at his schedule and saw that he didn't have another appointment till three o'clock, so he decided to go for a little walk and maybe get something to eat. As he waited at an intersection, he found himself standing next to a group of those people dressed in cloaks. As he waited for the light to turn green, he overheard fragments of what they were saying.
"Exactly, the Potters, that's what I heard...", said one.
"...Yes, but their son, Harry..." replied a woman with bright red hair, who was wearing a maroon-colored cloak.
He crossed the street, suddenly anxious. Suppose something had happened to the Potters?Then he turned around, and jogged across the street and down the road to his office. There, he grabbed the telephone and started to dial his wife's number. "She should know about this," he thought. "She loves her brother a lot, even though she hasn't seen him for a few years."
Then he stopped himself. He was being a fool. Surely there were other people named Potter with a son called Harry. And besides, how could he know for sure that the son's name was Harry? It could have been Harold, for all he knew. It was probably a false alarm. He certainly didn't want to worry his wife.
That afternoon, though, he was still preoccupied. As he walked out the door, he bumped straight into a man with a green bowler. He, too, was wearing a cloak.
"Sorry!" Mr Granger said.
"Oh, no, sir!", the man replied heartily. "For You-Know-Who has gone at last, and even Muggles like yourself should be rejoicing on this wonderful, wonderful day!". The man then hugged him and went off, skipping down the road.
Mr. Granger stared after him, then shrugged, making a mental note to ask his brainy wife what 'Muggle' meant.
As he stepped of the bus, he noticed a rat scurry along the sidewalk. It dove into the bushes. Mr. Granger looked at the bus schedule, and when he looked back again, there was a short man with one of those cloaks where the rat had been. He reminded Mr. Granger strangely of the rat, but he didn't dwell on it further, as the bus had just arrived.
Mr. Granger entered his home, deciding that he wouldn't mention the Potters for the time being. Mrs. Granger didn't notice anything strange in his behavior; she chattered merrily through dinner, telling her husband about her day and about Hermione's new phrase (I want book!).
After Hermione had been put to bed, Mr. Granger went into the living room with a book entitled 'Hilarious Dentistry Stories: When Orthodontics Are Entertaining'. Mrs. Granger was already seated, reading a voluminous book that she had started that day over mid-morning snack.
Mr. Granger turned on the television, to listen to the news for a few minutes before he continued his reading.
A blond reporter standing in front of a screen was saying,"... Bird watchers all over the country have been highly flabbergasted today. Although owls usually sleep during the daytime, this morning a large quantity of owls were seen flying through London and the rest of England, as well as some sightings in Scotland, Galles, and Wales.".
Mr. Granger switched over to the weather channel.
"Well, folks," a young lady in a shocking pink tuxedo said, "Instead of the rain I promised yesterday, there seems to be a shower of shooting stars. Bonfire Night's not until next week, you know!"
Mr. Granger shut the television off.
Mrs. Granger took a sip of her tea. "What is it, Robert?", she said, noticing his disturbed expression.
Mr. Granger gulped. "Well, dear," he began, " You haven't heard anything from your brother lately, have you?"
His wife looked concerned. "No," she replied. "Why?"
"Oh, just asking," Mr. Granger replied casually. Then he continued, "The son, he'd be about the same age as Hermione now, wouldn't he?"
Mrs. Granger shook her head. "Well, I think that he's actually almost a year younger than Hermione. His name's Harry, I believe."
"Nice name," Mr. Granger said, feeling that he had to say something.
"Yes, it's a nice name," Mrs. Granger agreed, before diving into her book.
Later that night, Mr. Granger sat on his bed, worrying. Were the Potters all right? He had an unfortunate sensation that they weren't. He decided to go outside to clear his thoughts. Once outside, he sat down on the little rickety garden bench, under a large bush.
Suddenly, two ladies appeared at the end of the street, almost as if they had popped out of thin air. They both wore cloaks: one was short and stout, and wore earthy green robes, while the other seemed older; she had silky gray hair and was dressed in what appeared to be nurse's clothes from the 1800's.
Mr. Granger was rather unnerved; he sensed that these women had powers that he did not. He stayed hidden behind the bush, shifting slightly so that he was in the shadow. The pair sat down on the low garden wall that surrounded the Granger garden, and one of them pulled a stick out of her pocket. Instantly, a small table laden with cakes appeared. Mr. Granger rubbed his eyes. "I must be dreaming," he thought. "Any moment now I'll wake up.".
"Well," said the elderly lady, "At last we have a little peace and quiet."
"In more ways than one," agreed her companion, taking a crumpet.
"Such celebrations, Poppy!", the other woman replied. "Did you see the fireworks show that old Dedalus set off? It was smashing!"
"No, I didn't," said the stout one. "I was back in Greengrove, my old town, you know, celebrating with my family. My word, the amount of food that was made, it probably beat the End of Year Feast!"
"Did it, Pomona dear?", said Poppy. There was clearly something else she wished to talk about, something that had been on her mind. She added, "I suppose You-Know-Who has finally gone? The Muggles haven't discovered us?"
When Pomona nodded her head, she said, "It all seems too good to be true!"
"You know, even now that he's gone, I believe that I'll never be able to call him by his true name," said Pomona.
"Neither shall I," agreed Poppy. "Only Albus was ever able to call him anything else.".
"We all know that You-Know-Who was afraid of him," whispered Pomona.
"Yes," concurred Poppy. "Albus always says that You-Know-Who had powers that he would never have, but that's only because he is too noble to use them.".
"Indeed," said Pomona. Then she said in an undertone she added, "I suppose that you know what people have been saying? About what finally stopped him?"
"Well," Poppy said slowly, "What I've heard is that...is that You-Know-Who went to find the Potters and, well, he killed Lily and James.". She sobbed quietly. "They were such a nice couple ...but that's not what most people are talking about. They say that he tried to kill their little boy, Harry, but he couldn't manage it. Somehow, he just couldn't."
"I know," said Pomona softly. "I was friends with Lily, during our school days. Such a wonderful girl, and James was a wonderful man as well." She then continued, "It's amazing, I have to say, that a little boy could defeat him. Speaking of which, what will become of him?".
"Albus told me that he has some relatives who will to take him in," said Poppy. "I have the sensation that there was some very calculated reasoning behind his decision.".
"I see," Pomona said, clearly relieved. "Well, Albus knows best, I suppose.".
"In that case," Poppy exclaimed, "Why don't we have a toast?"
Both of them raised their teacups and proclaimed, "To Harry Potter, the boy who lived!"
With that, they disappeared, pastries and all.
Mr. Granger stood up shakily. "This must be a dream," he thought again. "Yes, that's it. I'm just imagining this because I'm worried about the Potter family. They're probably sound and safe in their beds now." He stood up and let himself into the house, went up the stairs and climbed into bed.
