Summary:

Dumbledore and his ever- ingenious ideas. To be truthful, those very ideas were the pillars which kept London's magical alter ego standing. But when it comes to this, I genuinely believe it's going to fail. Horribly.

Disclaimer: I do not own the theme, ideas, characters or anything associated with Harry Potter, and take no credits for Micheal Buble's music & from the lyricist.

Author's Note:

Maybe this chapter doesn't make sense to you, but this was just something I've always wanted to do, give a little more insight into the Grangers. Even though I'm rushing through it, I love the fact that I finally could do this.

Also, this is fairly relevant to the chapters to follow.

And I didn't want to include this as a flashback randomly in between the story, so there.

Prologue:

Newcastle University, December 1974

Granger:

Jeremy Granger was a proud young man. Partying came naturally to him, he could hold far more drinks than his friends and he was always the first one to chat up a girl. Saturday nights, like tonight, were for, you guessed it: partying, beer and sex. And, if they could, they would squeeze in some time to boss around the freshmen.

The club closest to the campus was their second home, and Jeremy Granger knew every person who frequented it. To put it correctly, decided who could and couldn't frequent it. After all, he didn't want the club overflowing with freshmen. Usually, not a one freshman was allowed into the building, tonight, however seemed to be different. The new girl seemed to set such a high standard when she walked in, that the rest of the roo"m seemed to pale in contrast. He turned to his friends, they were too drunk to have noticed her yet, and the ones who had, would make the simplest mistakes. Good for me, he thought. Thanks to their ability to never learn, I think I will strike yet again.

He wasn't someone who would rush in to make his move. He had watched too many men attempt to do that and fail embarrassingly. The first rule: observe the woman, contemplate the move, and then anticipate the perfect timing. It was an art.

This woman was different from the rest in the bar, that he could make out from the moment she walked in. Just how different, though, he was about to find out.

Harris:

Jean Harris was a smart girl. She knew the difference between right and wrong. And the moment she walked into the bar, her senses kicked in to their high gear, alerting her of the danger from all angles. Why the hell am I here? I should leave. Right now.

She could leave, she was still in the entryway, at such a point where she could see the bar & dance floor, but no one inside could see her. It would be like I never even came.

Then she remembered why she had come. Some girls from her Anatomy class had said she was a goody-two shoes, that her parents needn't even worry, she was worse than them herself. So she held her chin high, patted her hair into place, and adjusted her skirt. She slowly walked into the club, making sure to catch the attention of everyone she walked by, girls and guys alike, save for the drunk few in the far corner of the bar. No one had seen this avatar of hers. She had left it behind in her high school years; university had been too tedious for makeup.

She waited for her classmates to realize why their drunken boyfriends stopped snogging or groping at them, waved, and then with a twirl, turned to face the bartender. "Vodka with soda, on the rocks please," her voice, even though partially drowned by David Essex's voice singing Gonna Make You A Star, was heard by many of the drunken boys closest to her. Some of them hooted, but she immediately silenced them by one sharp look. She was handed her drink and she thanked the bartender, who smirked, "Anything for a stunner lady, ma'am."

I really shouldn't have come. She sighed.

Granger:

Jeremy smirked. This fresher certainly could hold her own. He watched as yet another guy ambled across the floor towards the bar to get a closer look. At this point one of his own friends decided to make a move. Amateur, he thought, smugly. But he did nothing to stop him. And so he soon stood a few feet away from her, trying to catch her attention without asking for it. She, however, simply watched, amused as he tried to use his two left feet to put together a dance move that worked for him.

Jeremy was now very curious that she didn't even give his friend, a well-known jock, well loved among the girls, a second glance. So he moved closer. This was when his friend decided she was just shy and walked boldly up to her and said, "Haven't seen you around much, girl"

"That line might have worked on a fresher," She smirked and turned back to her drink.

Jeremy was glad he was in ear-shot.

"Not a fresher, huh?" he smiled at the mysterious newcomer. He was also glad he didn't slur his words after two drinks. "So I'm guessing you don't usually come here? I'm Jeremy Granger, by the way"

He extended a hand.

"And I'm assuming you are a regular customer at this bar, such a frequent member of the parties here that you believe you should know every person's name that enters here" she raised one eyebrow at the extended hand.

He laughed openly. The second rule: the ability to laugh at oneself floors even the most hard-to-get ones.

"It is true that I am a regular customer here, the rest is an unfair judgement. I only came up to offer my company for a few drinks, if that is acceptable to you, Miss..."

Her stern exterior broke into a smile & relief flooded her features. "Harris. Jean Harris. You have no idea how glad I am that there is one person in this bar coherent enough to hold a conversation."

He laughed again, and said "I'm not saying I haven't had a drink. But I most certainly am not drunk."

The third rule: truth goes a long way, even if it is, just for a night.

"Well, then, I change my statement. I'm glad I have met a man who can hold his drink," she smiled warmly.

A man who can hold his drink... A man. No one had ever called him a man before. Well, his father had told him many a time that being a man was what was expected of him, but never had a girl called him a man. It felt nice, almost like a sign saying 'trustworthy' now hung around his neck.

Trustworthy? Since when am I trustworthy? Snap out of it, buddy.

"I'm glad to be at your service, ma'am"

Some day, when I'm awfully low, when the world is cold, I will feel a glow just thinking of you, and the way you look tonight...₁(1)

Harris:

Finally, someone remotely normal to have a conversation with. Granted, he does talk a little too much about himself, but this was more than I expected out of this place.

She had been sitting with the man for around 20 minutes when she felt she absolutely had to interrupt him.

Wait... What was his name again? Wow, Jean, you make a new acquaintance and talk with him for a third of an hour and you don't even know his name? Ridiculous. How am I supposed to interrupt him if I can't even call out? Oh, I know:

"Would you like to dance?" she smiled as sweetly as she could.

He looked a little surprised, not hurt, but shocked.

"You're a different one, aren't you?" he jested and held out his hand. "For ritual's sake only, madam, would you like to dance?"

She laughed, and accepted. Maybe this isn't going to be that bad after all, she thought. Until she heard what song was playing. Barry White's voice belted out 'You're The First, The Last, My Everything' in the background. She blushed, Thank God it wasn't a slower song.

Which was exactly when the DJ dimmed the lights and played a slow melody, bringing all the couples out on the floor for a dance. She looked up at him, and he seemed completely comfortable.

Well, since his head doesn't seem to be wandering into unmarked territories, it should be safe to proceed.

The conversation was still light and friendly, and had moved on to the topic of football. She interrupted him, "Have you ever travelled outside of England?"

He looked a little miffed at the interruption, but said, "Yes, quite a lot actually. Why? Do you like to travel as well?"

"Yes, my entire family does. My favourite place has to be Italy."

"Well... I have to disagree. The Eiffel Tower has to be my favourite place on earth, it is the most romantic structure ever built."

"As opposed to Rome, Venice, Florance and Milan?" She asked, with a slight frown at the disagreement, yet a sense of contentment that at last, the conversation had taken a turn to a topic that allowed her to participate.

Granger:

The evening flew by so fast, that the next thing they knew, it was time for the Girls' Dorm to close. This was usually when he asked her to forget the Dorm & bunk with him for the night. But...

She said I was a man.

And so he fought the temptation and walked her to the Girls' Dorm.

"Thank you for rescuing me from boredom. I'll see you around, hopefully," she turned to leave.

"You're lovely," he burst out. "Never, ever change."

She turned back to face him.

"What I meant was... Um... I love you... No, I love the way you look tonight."₂(2)

She smiled, and turned again to walk slowly into her Dorm.

Author's Note:

So if you haven't noticed, Hermione's parents' first actual, two sided conversation was that of travel. It was the one common thing that they shared, and barring that, and Dentistry, they had absolutely nothing in common. Dentistry earned them a lot of money, and so, a spacious three-storey house plus terrace and two gardens was what the young couple decided they absolutely needed as soon as they could afford it. They wanted all their curios displayed in such a way as to do each one the justice it deserved. It was that one shared passion that kept their marriage together and their love blooming.

1 & 2: If anyone noticed, they directly referenced The Way You Look Tonight by Micheal Buble.