Mrs. Granger
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter characters do not belong to me.
Evelyn hefted the laundry basket onto the top of the dryer and proceeded to sort through darks and whites. After dumping a load of dirty clothes into the washer she scooped the clean clothes from the dryer. At the very bottom of the pile she pulled out a long black robe. She sighed and shook her head to herself. As the folded the robe, her thoughts turned to the owner of the black robe, her daughter.
What goes on in her world, Evelyn wondered. There was so much she didn't know.so much that she was better off not knowing, she supposed. She recalled the first load of laundry she had done upon her daughters return home after the school year had come to a close. There had been blood on one of the black robes. When she questioned her only child the answer was simple enough, "That happened during my Caring For Magical Creatures class, Mum. You see thesrals are drawn to blood so Hagrid had out some rare meat to attract them to us. Some of the blood got on me, that's all."
Naturally, thought Evenly trying not to look perplexed. What on earth were thestrals? She knew who Hagrid was, of course. He was the half giant who taught the students how to care for creatures such as thestrals, whatever they were. Evelyn bit her lip. When did the term "half giant" become a normal part of her vocabulary? Shortly after her child returned from her first year at that school. That's when she heard all about baby dragons, invisibility cloaks, three-headed dogs, and trolls in the girl's laboratory. Evelyn clutched the robe to her chest as she tried her hardest to visualize such things. But she was unable to fathom the strange goings on in her daughter's world. However, she could vividly remember her daughter's breathless explanation of her adventures as they sat around the kitchen table her first night back from school that very first year. They had said nothing to their daughter at that moment but later that night as she lay beside her husband he had said in a firm tone, "She's not going back! It's a mad house! Three headed dogs, indeed!"
"But what can we do John? She's part of it. We've known from the time she was just a baby that she was special." Evelyn's voice pleaded to her husband in the dark.
"She's only 12.She's just a baby." John's voice deepened with concern. "Maybe in a few years -"
"And tell her what? That she can't go back to a school she clearly loves? And what of her new friends? She's thrilled with those boys. We can't take that away from her now."
So it was decided to let their only child return to the school she loved so dearly and to the new friends she adored. And as each year passed their daughter returned home to them all aglow with reports on Harry's heroics, Neville's clumsiness, Hagrid's latest creature, and Ron.Ron's humor, Ron's sarcasm, Ron's lack of study skills, Ron this and Ron that. Nevertheless, as much as she told them, Evelyn knew there was much, much more that she held back from them. It became more noticeable as the years passed and the details became fewer and fewer. And this year there was a sadness that no mother ever wishes to see in her child's eyes. The only explanation she gave was that Harry's godfather had died and she was sad for her friend. While Evelyn believed her child she also knew that there was more to the story.
Evelyn looked down realizing that she had just folded and refolded the laundry several times as her mind had wandered. With a sigh she neatly placed the clean clothes in the basket and carried it out of the laundry room. She wandered into the kitchen and was nearly startled out of her skin by the loud slamming of a bedroom door over head.
"What in heaven." she mumbled to herself. Well it wasn't John because he was at a dental convention in the States for several days. And it wasn't the Crookshanks because he was winding his way around her legs as she stood gazing up at the ceiling.
"Are you all right, Hermione?" Evelyn called. The response was a muffled, "I'm fine." Evelyn sighed. What was she going to do with that girl? Most likely she was sending another letter to one of her friends.by way of an owl. Evelyn cringed as she thought of the owl droppings she would be cleaning off her daughter's window ledge again this year. Normal mothers don't have to worry about this sort of thing, she thought to herself. Normal mothers with normal children worried about car-pooling, money for college, and music blearing from headphones loud enough to do permanent damage. Normal mothers had children who talked on the phone for all hours. They wouldn't know the first thing about the Owl Post or removing owl droppings from windowsills.
Evelyn spent the next hour puttering around the house cleaning and straightening, as was her usual routine on Saturday mornings. When all the laundry was clean, dry and folded she hefted the basket up the stairs. With her mind full of all the other chores she had left to do she walked past Hermione's bedroom but pause when she thought she heard weeping. Quietly she put the laundry basket on the floor and tiptoed closer to the door. After a moments hesitation in which she thought guiltily about invading her child's privacy she pushed the thoughts aside and pressed her ear to the door. After all.it was her door and that *was* her child.and mothers have the right to be noisy! Besides, Hermione rarely wept, a few tears here and there when she was sad or moved but rarely did she weep. Sure enough, as she pressed her ear to the door, Evelyn could hear the muffled sounds of crying. All thoughts of guilt left her mind as she was overcome by worry. Lightly she tapped on the door then opened it a crack, "Hermione.are you alright, darling?"
"I'm fine, Mum" came from somewhere under a pillow, sounding decidedly heartbroken and sad. Evelyn's heart bled for her baby.
"I think that is the least "fine" I have ever heard anyone sound, my dear." She eased down beside Hermione and gently stroked her back. "Come on, darling. Tell me what's wrong."
"It's nothing, Mum. I just - " Hermione's muffled voice cracked and she let out a woeful sob. Tears sprung to Evelyn's eyes in response. She could not bear to see her child in pain.
"Honey, please, tell what is wrong!" Evelyn neared panic as Hermione let out another baleful wale. "Hermione! Are you in pain? Look at me, baby! Look at Mummy!" Gently Evelyn tugged at Hermione's shoulders trying to ease her into a sitting position but she remained stubbornly hidden under her pillow.
"I can't!" Hermione howled. "It's.it's.it's too awful!"
"What's awful? What's happened?" Evelyn tried to pull the pillow way. When Hermione only gripped it tighter over her head Evelyn let go but demanded, "Hermione Granger, look at me at once and tell me what it wrong!"
Hermione stilled. Her sobbing quieted to just sniffles and hiccups. Slowly, very slowly she sat up and faced her mother, finally moving the pillow away from her face. Evelyn gasped. Her lips twitched with a suppressed smile. Her brown eyes, so like her daughters, sparkled with mirth.
"Why, Hermione, it's not so bad," she said in her most soothing voice. Then reach out to gently stroke her daughter's newly orange locks. "It's really.Well.It's not *that* awful."
Clearly the wrong thing to say, Evelyn thought as Hermione let out a mammoth howl and threw herself back down on the pillows. Rolling her eyes and stifling the laughter that tickled her throat, Evelyn leaned down to hug her miserable daughter. Planting a kiss on her forehead she said, "It could be worse Hermione."
Hermione sat back up again and turn sad, watery eyes on her mother. "How could it be worse?" Sniffle. "M-m-my hair is ORANGE!!!!!" Tears streamed down over rosy cheeks making her look like a very sad pumpkin, indeed.
Evelyn reached out and smoothed the tear damp and most certainly orange hair from her child's face. "Well," she began, her eyes earnest on her daughters. "Well, it could be green." Hermione let out a laugh that quickly turned into a sob.
"Oh, my poor darling," Evelyn sighed, pulling Hermione into her arms. Hermione wrapped her arms around her mother and Evelyn began to rock her gently. She held on tightly until the crying stopped, the hiccups ceased, and all that was left were uneven breaths and raw embarrassment. Eventually, Hermione eased from her mother's hug and wiped her tears away.
"What am I going to do?" Evelyn watched as Hermione's lower lip trembled, knowing that the grief of the moment was welling up inside of her again.
"Now, don't cry, Hermione. We'll just have to let it grow out." Again, this apparently was very much the wrong thing to say. However, instead of loud sobs Hermione shed big quite tears. This was almost more heartbreaking to Evelyn. "Or we could try dying it back?" she amended.
"Th-there's a spell that would fix it but-but I can't do magic outside of school." Hermione sighed heavily, "And-and.Ron has invited me and Harry to his house for the last two weeks of summer.I just can't go looking like this!"
Evelyn watched her daughters face as more tears threatened to spill. Ah, yes, she thought, Ron Weasely (or was it Weaseler), the boy whose family Hermione spent the last Christmas with. The boy she had stayed with the last two weeks of the past two summers.and now this one as well. The boy who was her friend along with Harry. The boy who, according to Hermione, drove her to frustration. Evelyn looked over at the picture her daughter kept on her bedside table. It was a feminine frame with pretty pink and white flowers. The picture inside held the images of Hermione, a dark haired boy, and a tall redheaded boy standing together. The boy, she thought with a pang, whose whole family had red hair. Oh dear, Evelyn mused, my baby has a crush and she doesn't even realize it.
She wiped the tears from Hermione's cheeks and said, "I'm sure just this once they will let you use magic."
"Oh no," Hermione hiccupped. "When Harry used magic last summer he got into huge amounts of trouble and he was in danger!"
"Danger!" Evelyn gasped and saw her daughter immediately stiffen before her. "Why was Harry in danger?"
Oh no, Mum. It's not what you think." Hermione's eyes were suddenly wide. "I.um.exaggerated. Harry wasn't in danger really. He was.um.fighting with his cousin, yeah, and did magic by mistake.I guess."
"Hmm" was all the response Evelyn could manage toward that rather feeble answer. Just another one of those things I'm better off not knowing, she thought bitterly. It's never easy for a mother to admit that her child is growing away from her. Evelyn didn't like this idea at all. But what can I do, she asked herself privately as she looked at her miserable daughter and her brilliantly orange hair. Well, perhaps there *is* something I can do, Evelyn thought as an idea sprung to her mind. But she would not tell Hermione now in case her plan didn't work. Instead she said, "Come, you can help me make dinner." She stroked a finger down Hermione's cheek and smiled reassuringly. "We'll worry about orange hair in the morning."
Hermione forced a smile, got up off the bed, and walked with her mother downstairs to the kitchen. That night they made a simple dinner then curled up on the couch to watch a "chick flick" on the telly. After the movie, which caused a weepy moment at the end for both of them, Hermione kissed her mother goodnight and turned in early for bed. Once she heard the bedroom door close, Evelyn hopped off the couch and scurried over to her desk in the home office she shared with John. She sat down and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. Dear Professor Dumbledore, she began. It took several attempts but finally she felt the letter was as good as it was going to get. Leaning back in her chair she proofread it one last time:
Dear Professor Dumbledore, I am the parent of one of your students, Hermione Granger. She speaks very highly of Hogwort's and is eagerly looking forward to returning for her sixth year. My husband and I, though often perplexed by the unique circumstances of your culture, are very pleased that Hermione is flourishing. She speaks very favorably of you as well, Professor. She has confided to us on numerous occasions that you are an extremely powerful man. She has also told us that you are kind, understanding, and very wise. These are qualities that have allowed my husband and I to entrust our most prized possession in your care over these last five years. While we may never fully understand the magical world our daughter lives in we are happy in the knowledge that she has friends and teachers who care for her.
Professor, I am writing to ask a favor of you. Just today my daughter had a slight mishap with a hair-coloring product. She is now a redhead, much to her dismay. In two weeks time she will be joining her friends Harry and Ron and does not wish for them to see her in this state. She has informed me that there is a spell that would easily correct her situation but she cannot use it due to the strict rule of not being able to use magic outside of Hogwort's. I fully respect this rule, Professor, but it is my hope that you will be kind enough to allow Hermione to use the spell so she may fix her hair just this once. A young girls appearance is so important to her during her teen years. If this is unacceptable or not possible I will understand and we will find an alternative solution.
Thank you for your time and patience, Professor Dumbledore, and thank you for the kindness you have always shown my daughter.
With sincere thanks,
Mrs. Evelyn Granger
Evelyn folded the letter and placed it in an envelope then rushed outside into the backyard. In the past whenever she wanted to communicate with Hermione while she was at school she simple stepped outside with her letter and there, as if knowing the thoughts in her mind, was an owl. Evelyn paused to wonder if the same would occur if she wanted to send a letter to someone besides her daughter. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, when a ghostly white owl swooped out of the night and landed on the birdbath in the garden. Evelyn hesitated before carefully walking over to the owl. "This is for Professor Dumbledore at Hogwort's," she whispered, nervous that her neighbors might see her and think her insane for talking to an owl. Then, as she held out the letter, the owl gave two huge flaps of it's wings lifting it up just enough to clasp the letter in it's talons and flew silently off into the night like a mysterious apparition.
Now all she could do was wait and see. That night Evelyn snuggled into bed warm with the knowledge that perhaps she could still be of value to her magical child.
The very next morning Evelyn was harshly awoken by a loud squeal. "What on earth!" she gasped. Before she could fling back the blankets and rush to see what was wrong a great orange-headed blur came charging into the room, jumped atop the bed, and grasped Evelyn in a firm bear hug.
"Hermione.I can't breathe, dear." Evelyn gave a bewildered chuckle. Pulling back from the hug Hermione looked at her mother, tears welling in her eyes. Immediately Evelyn was concerned, "What is it, Hermione?"
"Mum! Why didn't you tell me?" Hermione gaped at Evelyn.
"Tell you what?" Honestly confused Evelyn tried to clear her sleep clouded brain.
"Here," Hermione said. "Read this."
Seeing the letter Evelyn remembered her own to Dumbledore that she had sent the night before. She took the letter from Hermione's hand and read:
Dear Miss Granger, I have heard of your dilemma and have spoken to the Ministry. While they strongly feel that orange hair is not a major disaster they do understand how it can be quite a nuisance. So, Miss Granger, for this occasion and this occasion only you may use the Fixitupum Mistakeus charm (made that one up myself hee hee) to restore your lovely natural brown hair.
Good luck, Miss Granger and please remember you are perfect just the way you are. I know Harry and Ron would agree. I look forward to seeing at the start of term.
Most sincerely,
Professor Dumbledore
When Evelyn finished reading the letter she looked up at Hermione who gave a happy bounce on the bed. "Why didn't you tell me you wrote to Professor Dumbledore?"
"I didn't want to get your hopes up. I wasn't sure if I would get a response right away.in fact, I'm amazed one came so soon." Evelyn stared at the letter in her hand then looked into Hermione's happy smiling face. Her heart swelled with great love. "So," she said, "you read what the Professor wrote. Go change that hair back to its lovely natural brown."
Hermione let out an excited squeal as the clasped Evelyn into another bear hug before bouncing off the bed and rushing out of the room. Barely a second later Hermione rushed back into the room. "I forgot," she gasped. "There was a letter for you too." With that she deposited the second letter into Evelyn's hands and flounced out of the room once more.
Evelyn sat back against the headboard and opened the letter addressed:
Mrs. Evelyn Granger
Her Bedroom
0474 Nancybury Lane
Clover Hill, UK 2337
Inside she read:
Dear Mrs. Granger, Thank you very kindly for your words of appreciation towards our school and myself. We take great pride in our staff and in our pupils. Your daughter is among our top students here at Hogwort's, which is why she was made a prefect last year.
As for Miss Granger's predicament, I have contacted the appropriate people and they have given their approval for her to use the charm just this once. I have sent word directly to her.
Mrs. Granger, you made mention in your letter that you and your husband feel perplexed by the magical community. Hogwort's has had many children come through our doors born of none magical parents. Their concerns are always similar. Will we lose our child to this world? Will we ever be able to adjust to the changes? Do we really want this for our child? I do not have all the answers to these questions but I will say that you have nothing to worry about with Hermione. She has great strength of character. She is a true and loyal friend. She knows her mind and speaks her beliefs. She is intelligent, kindhearted, and truly a gifted witch. Talent such as hers does not come along every day. We could not be prouder to have her as a student at Hogwort's.
Change from the norm is never an easy thing to cope with. As parents you and Mr. Granger have handled this with exceeding grace. I dare say, a slight bit better than a few magical parents I know. As for never fully understanding the magical world, do not fear. I have lived in this world a vast many years and still do not fully understand it myself!
With sincere wishes,
Professor Albus Dumbledore.
Evelyn looked up from the letter. So, she thought, my other concerns showed through in my letter. He really is a wise man, this Dumbledore. Evelyn smiled to herself. She read again, "you have nothing to worry about with Hermione. She has great strength of character. She is a true and loyal friend. She knows her mind and speaks her beliefs. She is intelligent, kindhearted, and truly a gifted witch. Talent such as hers does not come along every day. We could not be prouder to have her as a student at Hogwort's."
"Well," she said aloud to her empty bedroom. "It would seem that we've done something right after all!" With a bright smile upon her face and a warm feeling in her heart, Evelyn threw back the covers and began the rest of her day.
The End
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter characters do not belong to me.
Evelyn hefted the laundry basket onto the top of the dryer and proceeded to sort through darks and whites. After dumping a load of dirty clothes into the washer she scooped the clean clothes from the dryer. At the very bottom of the pile she pulled out a long black robe. She sighed and shook her head to herself. As the folded the robe, her thoughts turned to the owner of the black robe, her daughter.
What goes on in her world, Evelyn wondered. There was so much she didn't know.so much that she was better off not knowing, she supposed. She recalled the first load of laundry she had done upon her daughters return home after the school year had come to a close. There had been blood on one of the black robes. When she questioned her only child the answer was simple enough, "That happened during my Caring For Magical Creatures class, Mum. You see thesrals are drawn to blood so Hagrid had out some rare meat to attract them to us. Some of the blood got on me, that's all."
Naturally, thought Evenly trying not to look perplexed. What on earth were thestrals? She knew who Hagrid was, of course. He was the half giant who taught the students how to care for creatures such as thestrals, whatever they were. Evelyn bit her lip. When did the term "half giant" become a normal part of her vocabulary? Shortly after her child returned from her first year at that school. That's when she heard all about baby dragons, invisibility cloaks, three-headed dogs, and trolls in the girl's laboratory. Evelyn clutched the robe to her chest as she tried her hardest to visualize such things. But she was unable to fathom the strange goings on in her daughter's world. However, she could vividly remember her daughter's breathless explanation of her adventures as they sat around the kitchen table her first night back from school that very first year. They had said nothing to their daughter at that moment but later that night as she lay beside her husband he had said in a firm tone, "She's not going back! It's a mad house! Three headed dogs, indeed!"
"But what can we do John? She's part of it. We've known from the time she was just a baby that she was special." Evelyn's voice pleaded to her husband in the dark.
"She's only 12.She's just a baby." John's voice deepened with concern. "Maybe in a few years -"
"And tell her what? That she can't go back to a school she clearly loves? And what of her new friends? She's thrilled with those boys. We can't take that away from her now."
So it was decided to let their only child return to the school she loved so dearly and to the new friends she adored. And as each year passed their daughter returned home to them all aglow with reports on Harry's heroics, Neville's clumsiness, Hagrid's latest creature, and Ron.Ron's humor, Ron's sarcasm, Ron's lack of study skills, Ron this and Ron that. Nevertheless, as much as she told them, Evelyn knew there was much, much more that she held back from them. It became more noticeable as the years passed and the details became fewer and fewer. And this year there was a sadness that no mother ever wishes to see in her child's eyes. The only explanation she gave was that Harry's godfather had died and she was sad for her friend. While Evelyn believed her child she also knew that there was more to the story.
Evelyn looked down realizing that she had just folded and refolded the laundry several times as her mind had wandered. With a sigh she neatly placed the clean clothes in the basket and carried it out of the laundry room. She wandered into the kitchen and was nearly startled out of her skin by the loud slamming of a bedroom door over head.
"What in heaven." she mumbled to herself. Well it wasn't John because he was at a dental convention in the States for several days. And it wasn't the Crookshanks because he was winding his way around her legs as she stood gazing up at the ceiling.
"Are you all right, Hermione?" Evelyn called. The response was a muffled, "I'm fine." Evelyn sighed. What was she going to do with that girl? Most likely she was sending another letter to one of her friends.by way of an owl. Evelyn cringed as she thought of the owl droppings she would be cleaning off her daughter's window ledge again this year. Normal mothers don't have to worry about this sort of thing, she thought to herself. Normal mothers with normal children worried about car-pooling, money for college, and music blearing from headphones loud enough to do permanent damage. Normal mothers had children who talked on the phone for all hours. They wouldn't know the first thing about the Owl Post or removing owl droppings from windowsills.
Evelyn spent the next hour puttering around the house cleaning and straightening, as was her usual routine on Saturday mornings. When all the laundry was clean, dry and folded she hefted the basket up the stairs. With her mind full of all the other chores she had left to do she walked past Hermione's bedroom but pause when she thought she heard weeping. Quietly she put the laundry basket on the floor and tiptoed closer to the door. After a moments hesitation in which she thought guiltily about invading her child's privacy she pushed the thoughts aside and pressed her ear to the door. After all.it was her door and that *was* her child.and mothers have the right to be noisy! Besides, Hermione rarely wept, a few tears here and there when she was sad or moved but rarely did she weep. Sure enough, as she pressed her ear to the door, Evelyn could hear the muffled sounds of crying. All thoughts of guilt left her mind as she was overcome by worry. Lightly she tapped on the door then opened it a crack, "Hermione.are you alright, darling?"
"I'm fine, Mum" came from somewhere under a pillow, sounding decidedly heartbroken and sad. Evelyn's heart bled for her baby.
"I think that is the least "fine" I have ever heard anyone sound, my dear." She eased down beside Hermione and gently stroked her back. "Come on, darling. Tell me what's wrong."
"It's nothing, Mum. I just - " Hermione's muffled voice cracked and she let out a woeful sob. Tears sprung to Evelyn's eyes in response. She could not bear to see her child in pain.
"Honey, please, tell what is wrong!" Evelyn neared panic as Hermione let out another baleful wale. "Hermione! Are you in pain? Look at me, baby! Look at Mummy!" Gently Evelyn tugged at Hermione's shoulders trying to ease her into a sitting position but she remained stubbornly hidden under her pillow.
"I can't!" Hermione howled. "It's.it's.it's too awful!"
"What's awful? What's happened?" Evelyn tried to pull the pillow way. When Hermione only gripped it tighter over her head Evelyn let go but demanded, "Hermione Granger, look at me at once and tell me what it wrong!"
Hermione stilled. Her sobbing quieted to just sniffles and hiccups. Slowly, very slowly she sat up and faced her mother, finally moving the pillow away from her face. Evelyn gasped. Her lips twitched with a suppressed smile. Her brown eyes, so like her daughters, sparkled with mirth.
"Why, Hermione, it's not so bad," she said in her most soothing voice. Then reach out to gently stroke her daughter's newly orange locks. "It's really.Well.It's not *that* awful."
Clearly the wrong thing to say, Evelyn thought as Hermione let out a mammoth howl and threw herself back down on the pillows. Rolling her eyes and stifling the laughter that tickled her throat, Evelyn leaned down to hug her miserable daughter. Planting a kiss on her forehead she said, "It could be worse Hermione."
Hermione sat back up again and turn sad, watery eyes on her mother. "How could it be worse?" Sniffle. "M-m-my hair is ORANGE!!!!!" Tears streamed down over rosy cheeks making her look like a very sad pumpkin, indeed.
Evelyn reached out and smoothed the tear damp and most certainly orange hair from her child's face. "Well," she began, her eyes earnest on her daughters. "Well, it could be green." Hermione let out a laugh that quickly turned into a sob.
"Oh, my poor darling," Evelyn sighed, pulling Hermione into her arms. Hermione wrapped her arms around her mother and Evelyn began to rock her gently. She held on tightly until the crying stopped, the hiccups ceased, and all that was left were uneven breaths and raw embarrassment. Eventually, Hermione eased from her mother's hug and wiped her tears away.
"What am I going to do?" Evelyn watched as Hermione's lower lip trembled, knowing that the grief of the moment was welling up inside of her again.
"Now, don't cry, Hermione. We'll just have to let it grow out." Again, this apparently was very much the wrong thing to say. However, instead of loud sobs Hermione shed big quite tears. This was almost more heartbreaking to Evelyn. "Or we could try dying it back?" she amended.
"Th-there's a spell that would fix it but-but I can't do magic outside of school." Hermione sighed heavily, "And-and.Ron has invited me and Harry to his house for the last two weeks of summer.I just can't go looking like this!"
Evelyn watched her daughters face as more tears threatened to spill. Ah, yes, she thought, Ron Weasely (or was it Weaseler), the boy whose family Hermione spent the last Christmas with. The boy she had stayed with the last two weeks of the past two summers.and now this one as well. The boy who was her friend along with Harry. The boy who, according to Hermione, drove her to frustration. Evelyn looked over at the picture her daughter kept on her bedside table. It was a feminine frame with pretty pink and white flowers. The picture inside held the images of Hermione, a dark haired boy, and a tall redheaded boy standing together. The boy, she thought with a pang, whose whole family had red hair. Oh dear, Evelyn mused, my baby has a crush and she doesn't even realize it.
She wiped the tears from Hermione's cheeks and said, "I'm sure just this once they will let you use magic."
"Oh no," Hermione hiccupped. "When Harry used magic last summer he got into huge amounts of trouble and he was in danger!"
"Danger!" Evelyn gasped and saw her daughter immediately stiffen before her. "Why was Harry in danger?"
Oh no, Mum. It's not what you think." Hermione's eyes were suddenly wide. "I.um.exaggerated. Harry wasn't in danger really. He was.um.fighting with his cousin, yeah, and did magic by mistake.I guess."
"Hmm" was all the response Evelyn could manage toward that rather feeble answer. Just another one of those things I'm better off not knowing, she thought bitterly. It's never easy for a mother to admit that her child is growing away from her. Evelyn didn't like this idea at all. But what can I do, she asked herself privately as she looked at her miserable daughter and her brilliantly orange hair. Well, perhaps there *is* something I can do, Evelyn thought as an idea sprung to her mind. But she would not tell Hermione now in case her plan didn't work. Instead she said, "Come, you can help me make dinner." She stroked a finger down Hermione's cheek and smiled reassuringly. "We'll worry about orange hair in the morning."
Hermione forced a smile, got up off the bed, and walked with her mother downstairs to the kitchen. That night they made a simple dinner then curled up on the couch to watch a "chick flick" on the telly. After the movie, which caused a weepy moment at the end for both of them, Hermione kissed her mother goodnight and turned in early for bed. Once she heard the bedroom door close, Evelyn hopped off the couch and scurried over to her desk in the home office she shared with John. She sat down and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. Dear Professor Dumbledore, she began. It took several attempts but finally she felt the letter was as good as it was going to get. Leaning back in her chair she proofread it one last time:
Dear Professor Dumbledore, I am the parent of one of your students, Hermione Granger. She speaks very highly of Hogwort's and is eagerly looking forward to returning for her sixth year. My husband and I, though often perplexed by the unique circumstances of your culture, are very pleased that Hermione is flourishing. She speaks very favorably of you as well, Professor. She has confided to us on numerous occasions that you are an extremely powerful man. She has also told us that you are kind, understanding, and very wise. These are qualities that have allowed my husband and I to entrust our most prized possession in your care over these last five years. While we may never fully understand the magical world our daughter lives in we are happy in the knowledge that she has friends and teachers who care for her.
Professor, I am writing to ask a favor of you. Just today my daughter had a slight mishap with a hair-coloring product. She is now a redhead, much to her dismay. In two weeks time she will be joining her friends Harry and Ron and does not wish for them to see her in this state. She has informed me that there is a spell that would easily correct her situation but she cannot use it due to the strict rule of not being able to use magic outside of Hogwort's. I fully respect this rule, Professor, but it is my hope that you will be kind enough to allow Hermione to use the spell so she may fix her hair just this once. A young girls appearance is so important to her during her teen years. If this is unacceptable or not possible I will understand and we will find an alternative solution.
Thank you for your time and patience, Professor Dumbledore, and thank you for the kindness you have always shown my daughter.
With sincere thanks,
Mrs. Evelyn Granger
Evelyn folded the letter and placed it in an envelope then rushed outside into the backyard. In the past whenever she wanted to communicate with Hermione while she was at school she simple stepped outside with her letter and there, as if knowing the thoughts in her mind, was an owl. Evelyn paused to wonder if the same would occur if she wanted to send a letter to someone besides her daughter. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, when a ghostly white owl swooped out of the night and landed on the birdbath in the garden. Evelyn hesitated before carefully walking over to the owl. "This is for Professor Dumbledore at Hogwort's," she whispered, nervous that her neighbors might see her and think her insane for talking to an owl. Then, as she held out the letter, the owl gave two huge flaps of it's wings lifting it up just enough to clasp the letter in it's talons and flew silently off into the night like a mysterious apparition.
Now all she could do was wait and see. That night Evelyn snuggled into bed warm with the knowledge that perhaps she could still be of value to her magical child.
The very next morning Evelyn was harshly awoken by a loud squeal. "What on earth!" she gasped. Before she could fling back the blankets and rush to see what was wrong a great orange-headed blur came charging into the room, jumped atop the bed, and grasped Evelyn in a firm bear hug.
"Hermione.I can't breathe, dear." Evelyn gave a bewildered chuckle. Pulling back from the hug Hermione looked at her mother, tears welling in her eyes. Immediately Evelyn was concerned, "What is it, Hermione?"
"Mum! Why didn't you tell me?" Hermione gaped at Evelyn.
"Tell you what?" Honestly confused Evelyn tried to clear her sleep clouded brain.
"Here," Hermione said. "Read this."
Seeing the letter Evelyn remembered her own to Dumbledore that she had sent the night before. She took the letter from Hermione's hand and read:
Dear Miss Granger, I have heard of your dilemma and have spoken to the Ministry. While they strongly feel that orange hair is not a major disaster they do understand how it can be quite a nuisance. So, Miss Granger, for this occasion and this occasion only you may use the Fixitupum Mistakeus charm (made that one up myself hee hee) to restore your lovely natural brown hair.
Good luck, Miss Granger and please remember you are perfect just the way you are. I know Harry and Ron would agree. I look forward to seeing at the start of term.
Most sincerely,
Professor Dumbledore
When Evelyn finished reading the letter she looked up at Hermione who gave a happy bounce on the bed. "Why didn't you tell me you wrote to Professor Dumbledore?"
"I didn't want to get your hopes up. I wasn't sure if I would get a response right away.in fact, I'm amazed one came so soon." Evelyn stared at the letter in her hand then looked into Hermione's happy smiling face. Her heart swelled with great love. "So," she said, "you read what the Professor wrote. Go change that hair back to its lovely natural brown."
Hermione let out an excited squeal as the clasped Evelyn into another bear hug before bouncing off the bed and rushing out of the room. Barely a second later Hermione rushed back into the room. "I forgot," she gasped. "There was a letter for you too." With that she deposited the second letter into Evelyn's hands and flounced out of the room once more.
Evelyn sat back against the headboard and opened the letter addressed:
Mrs. Evelyn Granger
Her Bedroom
0474 Nancybury Lane
Clover Hill, UK 2337
Inside she read:
Dear Mrs. Granger, Thank you very kindly for your words of appreciation towards our school and myself. We take great pride in our staff and in our pupils. Your daughter is among our top students here at Hogwort's, which is why she was made a prefect last year.
As for Miss Granger's predicament, I have contacted the appropriate people and they have given their approval for her to use the charm just this once. I have sent word directly to her.
Mrs. Granger, you made mention in your letter that you and your husband feel perplexed by the magical community. Hogwort's has had many children come through our doors born of none magical parents. Their concerns are always similar. Will we lose our child to this world? Will we ever be able to adjust to the changes? Do we really want this for our child? I do not have all the answers to these questions but I will say that you have nothing to worry about with Hermione. She has great strength of character. She is a true and loyal friend. She knows her mind and speaks her beliefs. She is intelligent, kindhearted, and truly a gifted witch. Talent such as hers does not come along every day. We could not be prouder to have her as a student at Hogwort's.
Change from the norm is never an easy thing to cope with. As parents you and Mr. Granger have handled this with exceeding grace. I dare say, a slight bit better than a few magical parents I know. As for never fully understanding the magical world, do not fear. I have lived in this world a vast many years and still do not fully understand it myself!
With sincere wishes,
Professor Albus Dumbledore.
Evelyn looked up from the letter. So, she thought, my other concerns showed through in my letter. He really is a wise man, this Dumbledore. Evelyn smiled to herself. She read again, "you have nothing to worry about with Hermione. She has great strength of character. She is a true and loyal friend. She knows her mind and speaks her beliefs. She is intelligent, kindhearted, and truly a gifted witch. Talent such as hers does not come along every day. We could not be prouder to have her as a student at Hogwort's."
"Well," she said aloud to her empty bedroom. "It would seem that we've done something right after all!" With a bright smile upon her face and a warm feeling in her heart, Evelyn threw back the covers and began the rest of her day.
The End