Welcome to my new story, I am simply going to publish this prologue first to see how receptive the great readers of fanfiction are to the idea. should it prove popular, more will follow!
This is AU, the events of Harry Potter books are pushed back 15 years, into the 2000's rather than the 1990's. Harry however remains born in 1980 whilst Ron, Hermione etc are born in 1995.
Please review and give me our thoughts, the next chapter Is in the works, but I can't tell you yet when it will be published, hopefully soon.
Enjoy.
7th February 1995
"999. Which emergency service do you require?" came the practiced voice in a bored tone.
"Police? Ambulance… Fire brigade, I don't know." She replied frantically, virtually hysterical
"Ma'am, please calm down, Can you tell me the nature of your emergency."
"My daughter." She took a deep breath, "My Daughter just… I don't know, she just blew up the microwave."
"Is your Daughter alright?" asked the woman on the end of the phone, "Does she require an ambulance?"
"What? Oh, no, she is fine."
"Is you home damaged, do you require the fire service?"
"No."
"What is the issue then Ma'am?" the voice sounded impatient now and she took a deep breath, trying to calm her still racing heart.
"I think my daughter blew it up… with her mind." There was a long silence through the phone, but as she held her shaking hand up to her ear, she thought she heard a strange clicking in the background.
"Her mind?" came the now dubious sounding voice, "Ma'am are you aware that it is a criminal offence to call this number as a joke?"
"I do. I don't know what happened, my daughter was glaring at the microwave, she said it was too loud and she couldn't hear the tv, I ignored her, when suddenly it blew up. I am not prank calling."
There was suddenly a noise of static and she thought the operator must have hung up. She tried to calm herself as she watched the child sat at the table laughing at what was on the telly.
She was about to put the phone down when she heard a new voice, male, speaking in clipped, professional tones.
"Hello?"
"Hello?" she replied breathlessly,
"Good Morning, This number is registered to the Granger residence, am I speaking to Emma?"
"Yes. I am Emma Granger."
"And the daughter you referred to would be Hermione?" the voice was calm, but almost too precise, and Emma found herself feeling distinctly nervous.
"Yes."
"Is this the first time unusual activities have occurred around your daughter?"
Emma blinked, looking down at her only child, sitting cross legged on her chair, bushy brown hair all over the place.
"Ma'am, is this the first time…" the voice asked again after she was silent for several long seconds.
"No." Emma replied, her voice trembling. "But it's the first time I have felt scared." As she spoke she felt her lower lip tremble, and she swallowed away the sob she could feel building in her chest.
"I understand, just one more question." Came the voice, "Is there any rational explanation for this incident."
Emma frowned as she looked at the blackened part of the wall, the partially melted pile of sheered plastic and smoking wiring.
"It could have been an electrical fault…" she began, her voice sounding unconvinced by what she was saying.
"Mrs Granger." He interrupted. "Was this a natural event?"
Silence.
"No."
HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHP
They arrived less than an hour later. Two cars, both dark grey Mercedes with fully tinted windows, Emma watched from her living room windows as three men and a women dressed in grey suits strode up the path the her door.
Of the four of them, it was the woman was who caught her eye though. She was dressed professionally, fitted dark grey jacket and skirt over a white shirt, what was interesting was how clear it was clear that the others were protecting her to a degree.
The men didn't much look like policemen she thought curiously, one of the men looked like a soldier, he watched the house keenly, quickly spotting her through the lacy net curtains, The other two looked like business men, one carried a briefcase whilst the other was speaking through a radio.
She watched them until she heard a loud knock on her door, which she opened almost immediately.
"Emma Granger?" the man with the briefcase asked, when she gave an affirmative nod he smiled warmly. "My name is Thomas Mills. I wonder if perhaps my colleagues and I might come in."
Emma nodded quickly, and Thomas smiled again. She showed them through to the small dining room where they all sat. The soldierly looking man removed his jacket and Emma felt a rush of relief as she saw he wasn't carrying a gun.
She shook herself, this was the suburbs of London, not some American spy film.
"Could I get any of you a cup of tea?" she asked, mostly as a way to fill the silence, Thomas, who seemed to be their leader chuckled,
"I think that would be an excellent idea. Is Hermione here? Perhaps it would be worth having her join us too."
The woman nodded quickly and left the room, she put the kettle on and prepared five mugs, putting them on a tray along with some milk and sugar.
"Hermione, there are some men here to see you." Emma said with a smile on her face,
"Why?" the young girl asked, "is this for earlier. I didn't mean to. It wasn't my fault!" the girl stated with all the self-belief of a five year old.
"Why don't you tell them that yourself hmm?" she asked with a practiced tone, the child nodded and Emma smiled,
"Come on then," she said, filling the mugs with boiling water and picking up the tray. "Let's not keep them waiting!"
The mother and daughter returned to the dining room where their four guests remained in their seats.
"Ah, you must be Hermione." Thomas asked with a friendly smile. "It's very nice to meet you, my name is Tom, this is William," he pointed to the soldier like man, "Ariana" he pointed to the woman "and the grumpy looking one is called Ben."
Hermione smiled and waved shyly. As he made introduction, Emma handed tea to everyone, and they muttered noises of thanks.
"Down to business." Tom began, pulling a sheet of paper from his briefcase, "In your telephone call to the emergency services, you stated that young Hermione's actions could not be explained by any natural means. Do you stand by that assumption?"
Mrs Granger squirmed under his intense gaze. "I don't know, it may have all been coincidence."
"I don't think you believe that Mrs Granger." He stated, his voice friendly, but now with a very firm edge.
"I… no."
"That's better. Now, Miss Button here would like to perform a quick test on Hermione, it's non-invasive, won't hurt her in any way and will take only a few seconds. Is that alright?"
"Yes. I suppose that's fine Mr Mills."
The woman stood up, smoothing her skirt as she did so. "Hello Hermione, May I do something quickly, I need you to look me in the eye very quickly. Is that alright?" the young girl nodded and Ariana smiled and pulled out a thin stick of unassuming wood.
"Are you ready?" she asked, Hermione nodded. "Virtutem revelare"
The air around the girl shimmered slightly, before taking on a distinctly yellow sheen. Ariana continued to stare into her eyes for several more seconds before blinking.
"Thank you Hermione." She said before turning back to her colleagues.
"She magical, nothing special in terms of power." Thomas nodded and turned to Emma.
"Mrs. Granger. This may be a little hard to accept." He began, looking the woman dead in the eye. "It appears your daughter is a witch…"
For the next two hours, Emma Granger took part in what was undeniably the strangest conversation of her life. The four of them explained how there was a whole wizarding society in Britain, consisting of over ten thousand individuals, with a government, court and education system, operating completely unknown to nearly all the country.
Emma was made to sign dozens of sheets of paper, everything from the official secrets act to a sheet of paper accepting that it was her responsibility to control keep Hermione under control until the age of 11, where it became the responsibility of the wizarding government.
"But why isn't this Magical Ministry here now?" she asked in confusion. Mills chuckled,
"Our Organisation works independently of the Ministry of Magic, they don't know we exist. The Magical government rather looks down upon non magicals. It makes things easier if they think they have a monopoly on magical policing."
By the time the four of them left, Emma Granger thought she would faint. As she was seeing them out of the door, Mills handed her a plain white business card, it had no name. Just a number.
"If anything happens, call this number and state exactly what the issue is. It was a pleasure to meet you. We will return shortly tomorrow to have your husband agree to the situation. Just a reminder Mrs Granger, it is a class 1 offence to speak of our existence to anyone, failure to comply will result in your memory being erased. Good day."
As he strode up the path, Emma Granger shivered, and it had nothing to do with the February air.
So... please give me your thoughts and feelings.
Hugs and Kisses
Marshall Angmar
