This is written for The Golden Snitch!
I'm in South, Castelobruxo!
Mothers Day 2018: Write a story featuring your chosen woman as a mother/ bonding with their children [Mrs. Granger]
Ollivanders:9 inch-Write about a Gryffindor character. [Minerva Mcgonagall Wand]
Through The Universe:Aurora Australis — (setting) Australia
[WC: 1985]
~oOoOoOo~
"Mum, can you please help me?" Hermione asked. Mrs. Granger headed over to her eight year old daughter attempting to tame her unruly curls behind her head.
Laughing, she easily twisted and pulled until her daughters hair was in a high ponytail, with a cascade of curls swaying in the breeze.
Hermione smiled as she settled back in the window seat of their home. She stared wistfully at the kids playing outside before raising the large book back on top of her knees.
Mrs. Granger grabbed her twelve year old daughters hand tightly as they dodged and skidded by Wizards and Witches in eccentric clothing. Large buildings with owls and cauldrons and items floating in the window loomed over them.
Mr. Weasley, her daughters friends father, kept asking them about electricity, but kept pronouncing it 'eel-eck-try-city.' She was in no mood to explain the simpleness when there were people waving sticks in the air - causing packages to follow them - going about.
Hermione skidded to a halt at a bookstore - of course she would be drawn to that in this magical place - so Mrs. Granger let out a motherly laugh and led her inside.
"It's Quidditch. I'm not really into the sport myself, but Harry and Ron are," explained her daughter. "I'm not really buggered on going but Mr. Weasley worked really hard to get top-notch seats and it would be really unfair to cancel on him."
Hermione kept rambling, on how teams flew on broomsticks - something she used to clean - to catch balls, and score points. It was their main sport, and even though Hermione was a bookworm and not into rough activities, she didn't want to let her friends down.
"You can go, honey," answered Mrs. Granger. "But, I want you to write when you get to the burrow, and let me know everything went okay. I promise, we'll still go with you to Kings Cross."
Hermione immediately ran off to write her friends, leaving her mother with her thoughts.
With a start, Monika Wilkins sat upright in her bed. She had had a most precarious dream, one that she didn't really want to dwell on.
Pushing the dream to the back of her mind, she threw on a dressing gown and made her way downstairs. She immediately started cooking eggs and bangers - one of her daughters favourites.
As she was waiting for the sausage to brown, she thought of her dream. Her daughter was named the same, but that Mr. Weasley fellow kept calling her Mrs. Granger.
There were Witches and Wizards - so she knew immediately to hold no stock to her dream - but her daughter looked so grown up.
Even though her Hermione was only just five years old, she was already a bookworm. The kids in her playgroup had already pushed little Hermione out, all because she didn't like getting muddy.
When the breakfast was done, Monika headed upstairs to wake her daughter up. The task was not easy, and as she was wiping the drool from the edge of her mouth, she couldn't help the burst of love that bubbled forth.
It was true that her daughter was a bit aggravating, not taking a simple answer for anything. But she was also exuberant.
Strange things sometimes happened; like a book to high on the bookshelf - that she knew she placed up on the top - suddenly in her daughter's hands. Her hair sometimes cackled with energy, but she just figured that it was because it was so frizzy.
There were even darker moments, like when a schoolyard bully was suddenly trapped on top of the playground, or locked in a cubby.
Deciding to ignore it once more, Monika placed Hermione's plate on the table and got their Saturday started.
~oOoOoOo~
Hermione Granger gathered her bags at the International Apparition Point and met her longtime boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, by the rooms exit.
As he leaned her into his side, Hermione thought of how they ended up like this.
After the war was over, the Ministry was in chaos. Kingsley Shacklebolt immediately stationed Hermione as the new Minister, and called it a day. Hermione, not able to say no to a chance to do some good, grabbed hold of the job and turned everything upside down.
All of the Death Eaters were held in holding cells in Azkaban, all awaiting fair trial. She, along with Harry - who was the new Head Auror - and Ron - as Deputy Auror - wrangled all of the employees, and administered Veritaserum to them.
Everyone who had ill-will to the new government was immediately booted, with new, stable employees taking their place. Once the Ministry was filled again, the trials started.
Being the Minister, she decided to start with the younger Death Eaters first, and of those, Draco Malfoy was tried, deemed innocent, and freed.
There were still people who hated the Wizangamot's decision, but when the Minister herself, along with their top two Aurors, testified on his behalf, they were hard pressed to charge him as guilty.
It took a month before Draco reappeared in the Ministry looking for a job, and Hermione accepted.
It wasn't too long before they were going on lunch dates for business, and when they no longer discussed work, it was fine by them.
Now, four years later, they finally had the counterspell for her parents.
When Hermione was first stated as the Minister, she didn't have any time to go find her parents. Harry had offered to 'hold the fort down' while she went, but she couldn't accept. It wasn't that she didn't want to see her parents, she just knew that there wasn't a counter-spell to Obliviate.
"Draco, where are you going?" asked Hermione. "It's this way!"
She grabbed hold of his hand before leading him to an intersection, and flagging down a cab.
Giving the driver the address, Hermione settled back for the 40 minute drive while Draco stared out at the new sights through the window.
~oOoOoOo~
"Here you are, dear," soothed Monika as she handed Hermione a warm cup of tea. They had just awoken from a nap, and she had had more weird dreams. This time, Hermione was gushing about how her friends, Harry and Ron, and her had saved Harry's godfather, Sirius.
Her dream then transitioned over to her soothing her pre-teen daughter from another school bully, named Draco Malfoy.
Monika couldn't explain it if she tried, but the dreams had felt real. Like memories.
She knew it was preposterous, but as she thought more on it, there was no other explanation.
"Mummy, can you read to me, please?" asked her daughter, effectively breaking her line of thought.
"Of course dear, I expect you want your favourite?" she answered with a smile. When she got a nod in answer, Monika stood and gathered an old beaten down copy of Beedle and the Bard.
Her, nor her husband Richard, had any idea where the book had came from, but her daughter loved it.
The book in question was obviously a children's book, and looked to be an antique. The leather bound cover was shredded in some areas, and the paint was worn. The pages inside were a bit torn and yellowed, and there was a few spatters of what looked like ink.
Opening the book, Monika spotted a message on the inside of the back cover. Turning to the place in question, she read it:
"To Hermione, I know you'll get mad when you see I wrote in here, but I wanted you to have this. It was my childhood story book, and I feel you'll appreciate it more than I will.
These are our Wizarding 'Fairy Tales' that you so often talk about from the Muggle world. The Tale of the Three Brothers is my favourite.
With Love, Ron."
Monikas blood ran cold, before she dropped the book.
'To Hermione?' 'Ron?' 'Wizards?'
No, no, no, no, no, no. Absolutely not. Her dreams? This? Where did that damn book come from?
"Mummy? What's wrong? You're pale!" asked a frantic Hermione Wilkins.
~oOoOoOo~
Hermione and Draco stepped out of the cab after paying the fare and looked down the street. It was a nice, suburban Muggle neighborhood, that looked similar to where she lived at home.
Her parents house in question, a two story townhome, blended in with the standard houses.
Checking the address again, Hermione grabbed Draco's hand, and started towards their walkway.
"Hermione? Do you have a younger sibling?" asked Draco, staring at something behind her.
"No, you know I'm an only child," she replied.
"Maybe not anymore."
His words hung in the air, as she slowly turned around. There, on the mailbox, was three handprints.
All in white, all fore-bearing, all plain as day. There was a large, print on the right, that looked like her dads hands had. On the left, was a small and slender hand, presumably her mothers.
But right in the middle? A miniature, perfect handprint.
"Oh, Merlins balls! I can't do this!" muttered Hermione as she faced Draco. There were tears in her eyes, begging to be shed.
"Come here," he whispered as he pulled her body to him. "We are going to walk up to that door. We are going to knock and when they answer, we are going to introduce ourselves.
"Just our names, none of that 'hey, I'm really your daughter but you don't remember crap.' When they aren't paying attention, you're going to counteract that spell of yours.
"Then, they will remember. Come on, it's not like they would have named their kid Hermione!" finished Draco, causing Hermione to let out a stifled giggle.
"Oh no, what if they had a daughter, and did name her Hermione?" she laughed. "Now that would be a story!"
Pushing her fears back, Hermione straightened her shoulders and walked up to the front door. She let Draco knock, and it wasn't too long before it swung open and Hermione was looking at her mother.
"Are you Monika Wilkins?" asked Draco in his smooth voice.
"Yes, I am. What can I do for you?" she replied sternly.
"I'm Hermione Granger, I was wondering if we could come in?" asked Hermione. "It's very important, otherwise I wouldn't impose."
~oOoOoOo~
Her mother had gone and fainted.
Immediately, as to not draw attention to themselves, they rushed inside. Draco levitated her mother to the couch, while Hermione shut the door behind them.
He laid her softly down on the couch, before he noticed the little girl clutching a book to her chest in the corner.
Draco watched as Hermione withdrew her wand and started to do the counterspell on her mother. When she was done, they waited a few minutes before she shot an Ennervate at her.
Slowly, Hermione's mother came too.
"Hermione? Where are you?" asked Monika.
"I'm right here, mum?" answered the older Hermione. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"
"Oh my goodness! What have you done? Where's my daughter? Hermione, where are you?" she sobbed.
"I-I'm here, mum," muttered the voice of a small child, the one currently standing in the corner.
Immediately, Monika clambered off of the couch and crawled towards her young daughter.
"Mum, don't you remember me?" asked the older Hermione. "It should have worked, Draco, it didn't work!"
As Draco looked at his Hermione, he saw the tears working their way down her face.
"Who are you people? Get out of my house!" raged Hermione's mum.
"I'm so, so sorry. I-I don't know what to do. I tried to fix it, oh Merlin!" sobbed Hermione.
"Out! Get out! Now, before I phone the police!"
Backing away slowly, Hermione made her way towards the door, her whole body shaking with sobs she was holding in and fear.
"I'm sorry, mum," she whispered, before she ran outside.
Monika and Richard Wilkins would never remember that they had an older daughter.
But sometimes, and only sometimes, Monika would dream.
~oOoOoOo~
AN: I would like to state that I got the idea of the three handprints on the mailbox from another story about Hermione finding her parents. I can't remember the name or author of the fic, but all credit goes to them! [If someone knows what story I am talking about, please let me know, becauswe I would love to read it again!]