So, wow... that took some time. I am sorry for making you wait so long, it's really not good manners at all. I am changing that herewith, there will be a new chapter every week at least. I hope this works out the way we want it to.
Either way, enjoy this chapter!
Hermes and Hermione Granger turned eleven today. It was a great day for the twins: sleeping in, being woken up by song and cheers and of course the beautiful cake.
Jean Granger outdid herself with each passing year and both the kids marvelled at the wonders that she could do with flour, butter, sugar and eggs. This year it was a chocolate cake with crimson icing tasting like the ripe cherries they had harvested during the summer holidays. And there on top with simple elegance were two 'H's written in golden icing.
Hermione was always surprised at how beautiful yet simple her mother could decorate a cake, or anything for that matter. And then of course, her mother's cakes were always the best, there was nothing that could reach it.
Hermes received a lot of gifts, mostly from her father and they were pricy gifts: an Encyclopaedia Britannica for example (a gift that Hermione herself would have killed for and that she desperately longed to at least touch, but she had to be a good girl and that included not looking with envy at her brother's gifts), or a new photo-camera that Hermione knew he would have no use for, but she contented herself with her own gifts, not looking at her brother's.
Personally though, she had to admit that she was jealous, very jealous: because really, what would she be doing with a baby kit (nappy, pacifier and bottle included of course) and a pink apron? Her mother seemed to be ecstatic about her gifts, so Hermione tried to be as well, but she couldn't help but feel that it all was just a farce.
But it was only the beginning of the day, and as the saying went: A misty morning does not make a rainy day, Hermione should keep that in mind for the next few years.
At eleven o'clock, the door-bell rang and Hermione, ever being the good daughter, went to politely see who it was.
"Aunt May!"
The relief she felt when she latched herself to her Aunt's neck and was twirled around by the strong, but small woman, was so real that she couldn't help but squeal and laugh – that was, until Aunt May sat her down and she noticed that the dire look her father sent her was one that would get her into trouble sooner or later.
"Father." She straightened her back and looked to the ground, her hands clasped in front of her.
"What are you doing here?" The voice of her father sounded angry, but Hermione knew with a start that it was not directed at her, but at her Aunt – his own sister. The woman replied carefully with a soft voice, and Hermione could hear the gentle smile in it, even though she was still not looking up.
"Why, my niece and my nephew celebrate their eleventh birthday, I thought I should at least give them something for it."
The obvious ignorance of her aunt did not pass Hermione by – it was common knowledge that the male part of a family was named before the female part, but her aunt had always been somewhat different. Her father's voice grew strained, laced with anger.
"I told you not to come near my children again, your gifts are not welcome, turn around and leave."
But Aunt May had already put two suitcases into Hermione's hand, a larger one and a smaller one. "Those are your gifts dear, be a good girl and give Hermes his as well, I know you will. I'm sorry I cannot stay longer, but I hope that we will see each other again someday, write me if you cannot. Have a nice birthday, Hermione, God may bless you and your brother."
And as quickly as she had come, Aunt May vanished again, leisurely walking down the lane to the gate, where she shot Hermione and her father a last glance before she slipped through the iron gates and turned down the road.
Curiously Hermione looked at the two suitcases. "Shall I bring them into the living room, father?" she asked carefully, hoping – praying – that they would be allowed to keep their presents. About to say something, probably 'no', her father was interrupted by Hermes, who stormed on the veranda.
"Was that Aunt May? Why did she leave so quickly? I didn't even get to say 'Hi'." Hermes was most unhappy about her leave, but Hermione consoled him, showing him the presents they had received, before looking at her father.
"May we keep them?"
She thought she had done a good thing about not telling Hermes that his own father had shooed the lovely woman off their propriety and she thought that she had well deserved to keep the small suitcase that was surely meant for her – and now that Hermes had seen his presents, how could their father possibly deny him to know what was in there?
A grave nod was their answer and cheering the children bolted up the stairs to their rooms and sat down in Hermes' bigger one. Automatically Hermione handed her brother the larger suitcase, while taking the smaller one on her lap.
"Actually, Hermione, there's your name written on the larger suitcase…" Hermes said, and went to grab for the smaller one, Hermione was dumbstruck.
"But that must be an error… you, you always get the bigger ones."
To her surprise, her brother smiled at her and gently pried the smaller one out of her hands. "Well if that is the case, then I simply demand that we change. I don't want the bigger one. I want you to have it."
Not asking a second time, Hermione let go of the smaller one and took the bigger one, opening it reverently. Inside was an Encyclopaedia Britannica just like Hermes' and her brother (who looked at the contents with her) patted her shoulder as she stroke over the backs of the books. There were also dictionaries for French, Gaelic and Latin and Hermione's smile grew.
Her brother snorted. "See I told you this is your suitcase, I don't even know how to speak Gaelic." Hermione looked aside and smiled broadly – she didn't know it as well, but she sure as hell was eager to learn it.
Aunt May had also gifted her with a book on fire, as well as on runes and a bit of money that she wanted Hermione to spend on books instead of dresses, so she would better have to keep it hidden away from her parents eyes, according to her Aunt's letter.
Hermes himself received a shaving kit, now that he was becoming a man as well as an adventurer's guide in which was described how to build a fire, how to cook raw meat, how to hunt, to read trails and her Aunt had gone about her way to buy her brother his first cravats and a pocket watch.
Feeling that, in some way, her Aunt had managed to save the day and balance the inequalities created by the society she lived in – her Aunt turned, once again, into her personal hero and idol.
Guests were invited for later, neighbours and other family members that Hermione had not seen in ages and that she could technically live without – but Hermes was a well-liked member of the family and he loved his family equally and Hermione had, as a woman, hardly anything to say in that matter.
So she gaily prepared the table in the backyard along with her mother, picking a few flowers and decorating the table with them as well as setting the table perfectly, she received a mild praise from her mother for her efficiency. It was all that she would get, she knew that – for her mother might love her, but in the end, she was also only a woman and was as captured in this cage of society as most other women were.
By two in the afternoon the guests arrived. First were of course the neighbours and Hermione greeted them with great eloquence and elegance, as was expected of her, before she went off to a secluded area with the youngest of the Roberts, a girl of eight years who was slowly introduced into the 'real world'.
"It's your birthday as well today, isn't it?" little Margaret asked her innocently as the two of them sat on the smaller separate table in the far corner of the backyard, nearest to the house. Hermione nodded and the small child almost immediately burst into tears.
Not knowing what to do she hurried around the round table and knelt next to her neighbour and softly stroke her back. "Why are you crying, Margaret? It's a beautiful day, and I'm happy."
But Margaret would not calm down for some time – other guests arrived, but none paid them any attention, so Hermione did what her mother always did, she sat Margaret on her lap and put her arms around her in a comforting manner until the girl calmed down. Margaret was a beautiful girl and Hermione was sure that she would be a beautiful woman one day, she'd have lots of men asking for her hand one day – Hermione knew it. Her soft, blonde hair swayed in the gentle breeze and her beautiful, big green eyes now took Hermione in as she sniffed a last time.
"Now, are you good again?" she asked soothingly, brushing her hand over the hair of the younger girl, who nodded in return. "Why did you cry in the first place, hm?"
Margaret leaned against her and for some time neither of the two said something, simply observed the merry guests as they greeted Hermes and wished him the best for his birthday.
"Those people should come to you as well, wish you a Happy Birthday as well, but they don't – and they never will, because you are a woman. And I am a woman, so they will not greet me either... and I want them to greet me, to greet you, I want women to be greeted and to be treated equally. It's not fair that you should not be able to celebrate your birthday the way you want just because god decided to make you a girl."
Hermione hummed in acquiescence, but decided not to say anything on that matter for now, Margaret would one day know what it meant to be a woman and she would find her way to power – she would find her way to be greeted and to be celebrated, Hermione knew that she was that headstrong, the Roberts all were. That and they had a good position where politics were concerned, with her father being an alderman.
Her musings were interrupted however, when she first perceived the owl. It was a large animal, impossible to miss and every hunter would have howled in delight to have such a trophy – fortunately for the animal though this was a birthday party and bringing weapons to such an event was generally disapproved of.
From what she had learned about these animals in biology and from her private research, she would have supposed that the owl was a Great Horned Owl, a Bubo virginianus – its wings were wide-spread as it glided directly towards the long table where her brother's guests were assembled, and, to be more precise, it steered self-assuredly towards her brother.
She wanted to yell out, to tell them to watch out, but the owl, stern look, dangerous beak and sharp talons, with its uniform of white and dark-brown feathers caught her look for only one instance, glaring at her as if to tell her to shut up before it landed right in the supper of her brother, holding a letter in its beak and expecting him to take it.
Hermes, as the rest of the guests, was surprised at the appearance of the animal and as he received the envelope, the owl flew away again, screeching as it went.
People laughed good-naturedly and continued eating, as if nothing had happened at all, but Hermione couldn't wait for evening, when the guests were gone and the envelope would be opened, something strange came from that piece of parchment, for it sure looked too thick to be paper and surely an owl – even of that calibre – wouldn't be able to carry such an amount of paper for whatever distance she had flown.
Hermione would not be disappointed.
In the evening, when the guests were gone, her father confiscated the letter from her brother and the three of them were asked to assemble in the living room, where her father inspected the envelope and the strange waxen seal that closed the parchment.
"Hogwarts School of Wizardry." Her father read aloud, his voice dripping with disdain at the end of his short soliloquy. "This has to be a joke... and a very bad one at that."
Ripping the envelope open and almost tearing it apart, her father grabbed the letter which consisted of exactly three pages and started to read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mister Hermes Granger,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
UNIFORM
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)
by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic
by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory
by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration
by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi
by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions
by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection
by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS
ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK
Yours sincerely,
Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus
Chief Attendant of Wizard Provisions
For some time, no one spoke in the room – Hermione daren't even to breathe – Magic existed. And her brother would be able to go on a school where he would learn it, so many exotic books, so many exotic things, a wand… All sorts of ideas exploded in her head, all sorts of pictures swamped her, Hermes with a wand and a uniform, performing magic in a great hall full of other boys – for surely, girls wouldn't be allowed to go there either.
Her father was the first to react. "Magic… wizardry… oh those little… I will find the responsible and I will persecute them, oh to have the guts for such a bad joke and on such a day on top of that!"
Hermione wanted to stop him, but her father had already hurled the beautiful letter into the fire – there in front of her eyes, burnt the one evidence that magic existed that maybe she could be a witch one day, if only she would have learned enough, but as the parchment burnt, Hermione knew that never, never again would there be a chance for her to become what she so badly wished to become.
Later that night, when she lay in her bed and watched the stars outside of her window, she prayed that maybe, hopefully, she would be able to steal the next letter, respond in Hermes' stead and go to the school – she giggled girlishly at that idea.
Oh that would be so wonderful! Posing as a boy when in reality she was a girl, surely magic could do that for her, surely she would be able to pass as a boy instead of a girl and then no one would notice that she wasn't really what they thought she was… and then she'd learn all of the mysteries there and find acceptance because she already knew how to make fire, without a wand even! That had to count for something, right?
As she lay there in the dark of the night, her mind spinning with all the great stories she wove herself for a good night, she smiled in the childish glee that was still hers – dreaming of days that could be hers.
Technically Hermione had always been convinced that she would end her days as one of the oppressed women that she had so grown accustomed to see nowadays – she would sew, and cook and pop out child after child that she would then have to raise. She would have to serve her husband and would never be allowed to do what she so pleased to, if her husband didn't want her to.
Though the day after her birthday, Hermione's mind was still occupied with the magical appearance of the owl and the acceptance letter that her father had burnt so quickly – she realized only now that she could have put out the flames, would she not have been so stumped, she'd do just that if another letter should arrive. Her father could not keep this from Hermes, if he was gifted as well, then he should go and learn – and Hermione would learn from him… or maybe she would simply go herself.
Hermes had never believed in magic anyways and he had also never made fire go out or simply appear, but she could.
That was why, when she caught sight of the barn owl on her gate with yet another letter, she held out her arm willingly and indeed, the animal descended. She had yet another pack of letters from the box in her other arm, but she quickly put it under her arm in order to stroke the soft feathers of the creature.
"Hey there." She greeted it and as the owl hooted, it lost the letter – Hermione was quick enough to catch it and the owl hooted yet again, as if to thank her. "Will you wait until I wrote an answer? Will you do that, pretty one?"
Again the owl hooted and flapped up from her arm, perching itself in the nearest tree hooting yet again.
Hermione ran as if the devil himself were behind her, swinging his whip – she didn't want to pass the chance and so quickly ran up the stairs and into her room.
Dear Mister Dumbledore, Headmaster,
I gladly accept the place at Hogwarts, come next September. As you may be informed, however, I am not familiar with the workings of your world and would greatly appreciate it, if you would give me any indication as to how I might be able to acquire the requested materials.
Sincerely,
And here she stopped for a moment, looking at her flourish. Her mother had always told her that her writing was mature, though hardly female and Hermione guessed that at this very moment, that was not a bad thing. The headmaster would surely not give her any indications would he know that she was a girl and not a boy.
However, she was not sure if she should really use Hermes' name like this – was it alright if she used his name to her advantage? As if on cue, Aunt May came to her mind and she realized that she wanted to learn on this school, she wanted to further her education and she knew that she had magic, she believed in it – and if she didn't seize this opportunity, there would be no other one.
Sincerely,
Hermes Granger
P.S.: As my neighbours are not familiar with the sight of owls, might I suggest that your couriers leave their messages at the bird house a bit farther in the garden on our grounds? I express my deepest gratitude in advance.
There, she had now skillfully evaded her father knowing anything more about her planning to go to that school – no one would know of it, it would be her secret, from now until the next September, when she would leave to this school – oh she couldn't wait for it.
As she flew down the stairs on silent ballerina tip-toes, she passed the kitchen and found a small mouse which was just eating a bit of cheese that their servant Igraine had carelessly left – or maybe left with purpose. Anyways that was not her problem right now, she had a plan for that particular mouse… a nasty plan, but one either way. The poor animal did not have the slightest chance to escape her skilled fingers.
Hermione was elated when she found that the barn owl was still hidden in the tree next to their entrance and as she clicked her tongue softly, it descended with yet another hoot to her arm and gently pried the suffocated mouse from her hand, feeding on it.
The young girl watched with great rapture as the hunter devoured the little treat she had prepared for it and when the owl hooted and smiled and owlish smile, she returned it, before holding up the envelope.
"Please carry it back as fast as you can, if we see each other again, I may have another treat for you – be safe on your trip, pretty one."
Gripping the envelope in its beak the owl took off and Hermione watched after it, hoping that her future would from now on be steered by her own plans instead of the plans of society – her heart soared with the owl and her dreams took flight.
Margaret Roberts married Denis Thatcher in 1951, becoming Margaret Thatcher, also known as the Iron Lady. I have no idea if she ever was blonde and I'm sure she doesn't have green eyes so obviously I know this, but I still changed the truth - deal with it, it is only a story, not an academic report.
Love, and please review!
