AN: Thank you for your character suggestions; some of them were ones that I had already considered and others I'll bear in mind for later in the story... In this chapter we meet the housekeeper of Thornfield, who bears a startling resemblance to a certain Transfiguration Professor! I loved the idea of Sybill Trelawney as Grace Poole, but I rather like the idea of a sherry laced Sybill playing the gypsy that Rochester (Snape) brings in to amuse himself and torment his houseguests - but that's coming up in a later chapter so keep your eyes peeled!
Hermione was grading her fourth years Potion's essays, when a shriek announcing the arrival of an owl from the post office gained her attention. She plucked a few owl nuts from her desk drawer and exchanged them for the letter tied to its leg. Untying the scroll, Hermione was pleased to see that her advertisement had garnered a response from a lady enquiring whether she could supply suitable references to act as a private tutor for a young girl not yet twelve years of age. The letter went on to explain that the girl had recently relocated to England from France, and her English wasn't quite good enough to attend regular school. Hermione grinned a little at the thought of finally being able to use the French that she had taught herself over the long summer months trapped within the confines of Lowood. The references were to be sent to a Mrs McGonagall, care of the general post office in Millcote; recalling a map of the British Isles in her head, Hermione placed Millcote to be around fifty miles from the Yorkshire Dales National park, perhaps on a free day she would be able to apparate there and explore the Dales as she had always wanted to do.
Hermione left her grading and took the letter with her as she headed for the Headmasters office. She knew that he would be disappointed in her decision not to remain at Lowood, but hoped that it wouldn't sour her chances of obtaining a suitable testimonial. It was with a happier heart that Hermione left Dumbledore's office an hour later, the promised testimonial already winging its way to Mrs McGonagall. If the lady approved of the contents, then Hermione proposed to leave Lowood at the end of June and journey to Millcote the very next day. Hermione hurried off to inform Septima of events, and her friend was delighted that Hermione had received a favourable response to her advertisement.
The rest of the week seemed to pass incredibly slowly as Hermione waited for news from Millcote, finally an owl interrupted her breakfast and Hermione eagerly tore open the scroll, a brilliant smile brightening her face as she read that Mrs McGonagall had been suitably impressed with Dumbledore's glowing reference and had invited Hermione to travel to Millcote on the afternoon of the 1st July to start her duties as governess to her new charge, a young girl named Fleur. Hermione drummed her fingers on the table and then suddenly left the dining hall, as she came to the stark realisation that it left her only three weeks into which she had to oversee her classes, supervise the end of term exams and pack her entire existence into her small carpet bag which she had placed an undetectable extension charm. While it was true that she had only two sets of plain, grey robes to her name (the school robes being impervious to any type of transfiguration spells), she did one set of dark blue robes that she kept for best…all of her other luggage would mainly comprise of the books that had been gifted to her over the years.
The last day of school was poignant for Hermione in many ways; she waved farewell to the last of her students as their parents arrived to escort them home for the summer, and then there was the farewell supper that she shared with Septima before her friend left via Portkey to join Ernesto in Italy where they were to have a small private wedding ceremony before starting their new life together in America. Septima hugged Hermione close before pressing a kiss to her cheek, whispering that the younger woman had better stay in contact otherwise she'd set a Doxy on her. Hermione gave a rather wet sounding chuckle and both women had to wipe their eyes dry before Septima took hold of the small book of poetry and murmured the word that would take her away from her young friend for a good few years; 'Portus…' In the blink of an eye, Hermione was left in her small study that looked entirely too bare stripped of her personal effects and she perched on the edge of an armchair still clutching her damp handkerchief in her hands.
'Bye, Septima…I'll miss you…' It was the second time in her short life that Hermione had been left behind by a friend. The first was when Luna Lovegood had been one of the first victims of the Dragon Pox when Brocklehurst was still headmaster. Luna had complained of feeling feverish and unwell for a few days, but the matron at the time had brushed it off as Luna trying to get out of writing her essays assigned as homework. Within a few days her condition had worsened, and she had died in Hermione's arms just a week after first contracting the deadly virus. Luna was buried in a small graveyard just a few yards away from the school, a grassy mound covering her remains. As soon as Hermione started working at the school she had squirrelled away a few galleons a month, and after a year was able to afford the simple grey headstone that now marked her friend's burial site, it was inscribed with her name and the word 'Resurgam'.
On the morning of her departure, Hermione slipped out of the side door and flung a rather threadbare cloak over her shoulders, shivering a little in the early morning mist. She walked slowly through the school grounds and approached the gate that marked the entrance to the graveyard. The groundskeeper, Tom was already hard at work tending to the overgrown weeds, and he tipped his finger to his hat as she passed, familiar with Hermione's frequent visits to Luna's grave over the years. Hermione nodded back in response, but didn't stop to exchange pleasantries. She transfigured a small stone into a kneeling cushion, as she pulled the dead flowers out of the small vase placed near the marker and pulled a bouquet of cut flowers out of her cloak.
'Hello Luna, I'm sorry I haven't been to see you for a while but I've just been so busy getting ready for the move,' Hermione said as she pulled a few straggly weeds away from the bottom of the marker.
Don't worry about it, Nee…you're here now and that's all that matters Hermione smile softly as the wispy voice of her friend drifted through the graveyard and the mist swirled around the base of one of the larger tombs until Luna appeared, her silvery form skipping through the markers before coming to a stop at her own grave.
'Hi Lulu…' Hermione whispered, holding up her hand. Luna let out a tinkling laugh as she placed her palm directly above Hermione's and watched her friend shiver a little at the cold sensation that raised the hairs on her arm.
I keep telling you that it will tickle, but you never listen to me. Luna skipped over to a slightly larger tomb and perched herself on the edge, kicking her small feet against the side of the granite. Hermione remained kneeling on her knee pad, reluctant to offend whoever was slumbering beneath Luna's spectral feet.
'Today's the day,' Hermione murmured as she nudged the vase a little closer to the middle of the headstone. 'I've asked Poppy Pomfrey to change your flowers every so often, daffodils and bluebells in the spring and lovely amber chrysanthemums in the autumn.'
But not lilies, I hate the white ones they remind me too much of death
'No sweetie, definitely no lilies,' Hermione confirmed as she finished tinkering with the headstone and turned to face her friend, a look of sadness shadowing her eyes. 'What am I going to do without you to talk with, Lulu? Septima left for Italy yesterday and you'll be tied here…who am I going to tell my troubles to now?'
Don't be silly, Nee…I'm always with you in your heart and just because you won't be able to see me doesn't mean that I won't hear you
'It won't be the same though, Lulu,' Hermione said sadly and Luna hopped down off the headstone to wander over to stand at Hermione's shoulder. 'I'll be miles away and you'll be stuck here, I don't know when I'd be able to come back again, if ever…'
Then let's make the most of this morning, and take one last ramble around the place Luna took a step back and held out her hand. Hermione rose up from her kneeling pad and one quick flick of her wand had it transforming back into its original stone form. They spent the next few hours roaming the countryside, talking about the walks they had taken together in the past. The chiming of the church clock warned them both that the coach would soon be arriving that would carry Hermione off to her new life, Mrs McGonagall had apologised for the old fashioned methods but had written that there wasn't a ministry outpost near the town so she had been unable to secure a Portkey and the Knight Bus wouldn't be at all suitable as Thornfield Hall itself was in close vicinity to a muggle village. Apparation was out as Hermione had never visited the location before and the nearest train station was more than thirty miles away in Ilkley.
Hermione left Luna with a tearful goodbye, casting her eyes back one final time toward the graveyard before Luna's form shimmered out of sight. Hermione wiped her tears away as she hurried back to the entrance hall to collect her luggage that she'd left ready by the door.
'Ah, Miss Granger…I'm so glad to have caught you before you left,' Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled under their bushy white eyebrows and he smiled cheerily as he appeared out of nowhere to stand in the small vestibule. 'I wanted to wish you a speedy journey and my very best wishes for the future.' He held out his hand to Hermione and she accepted it gratefully. 'I have taken the liberty of taking care of your coach payment…think of it as a small parting gift from the faculty, and should you ever be in need of future employment; either here or at Hogwarts, please don't hesitate to send me an owl.' Dumbledore pressed a small sack of coins into her hands and then passed over a heavy book wrapped in brown paper. 'Something to keep you amused on the journey.'
'Thank you, headmaster,' Hermione murmured as she gave his hand a slight squeeze and felt the pressure returned.
'It was entirely my pleasure, my dear….now, go on before your coach departs without you.' Dumbledore gave Hermione a gentle nudge and she stepped over the threshold of Lowood for the very last time. Stepping into the carriage drawn by four black winged horses, Hermione could see the ripples of magic that surrounded the whole carriage.
'Not to worry, love,' the driver called over his shoulder. 'The boys and carriage will appear as an ordinary cab to any Muggles that catch sight of us. We're going to fly under a standard disillusionment and then we'll land just outside of Skipton and go the rest of the way by road…should take us about six hours depending on the traffic nearer the towns.' Hermione nodded as she delved in her bag for a package of wrapped sandwiches and the parcel that Dumbledore had given her. Nibbling on a corner of a sandwich, Hermione unwrapped the brown paper and smiled softly at the contents.
'Hogwarts: A history, revised edition.' Settling back against the coach, Hermione immersed herself in the book and barely noticed the passage of time; and so was startled when the driver tapped on the roof of the carriage before he hopped down to open the door.
'Millcote, love…are you sure we can't take you the rest of the way?' the driver's kind face wrinkled in concern as he looked at the darkening sky. 'It's getting late and most of the shops around here are all shut up for the night.'
'Thank you,' Hermione stepped out of the carriage with her fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of her bag, and her wand clasped firmly in her right hand. 'Mrs McGonagall assured me that she would be sending someone to meet me near the far end of town near the inn…I have my wand and I'm not afraid of the dark, I'll be absolutely fine. Please don't let me keep you from your home, you must be wanting to get back.'
'If you're sure, Miss?' the driver asked, clearly not happy to leave Hermione but he was also feeling rather stiff and chilled from the cool northern air. Hermione nodded again as her ears caught the faint crack of apparition coming from the alley next to the inn. She gave the driver her reassurance once again, and then headed over to the alley where she could see the small figure of a house-elf beckoning from the shadows.
'Missy Grangy?' the elf squeaked in a high pitched voice. 'John beings sent to brings you to Thornfield…John is bad elf for beings late arrivings.' John started running toward the side of the building with the intent of bashing his forehead against the rough bricks, and Hermione clasped him lightly by the shoulder to prevent him from harming himself.
'No need for that, John…My carriage was delayed somewhat by an overturned lorry and I've only just arrived myself,' Hermione smiled gently at the trembling house elf and he straightened his shoulders a little.
'I takes your bag and we go to see Missus McGonagall…she gives you tea and cakes to plump you up. Missy Granger is far too skinny and will freeze without a nice layer of fat under her clothes.' John wrapped his long fingers around Hermione's elbow and with a sharp crack, the two of them vanished.
They reappeared in a dark and somewhat gloomy hallway, and the sound of their arrival had a rather tall and slender woman appearing through a door at the end. Hermione could just see the warm glow of lamplight dispersing the gloom and the woman tutted under her breath and she stepped forward and clasped Hermione's arm gently and pulled her into the cosy room, which Hermione assumed was a small sitting room.
'You poor wee thing, I bet you're half frozen in that skimpy cloak,' the woman said in a soft Scottish burr, as she nudged a sleeping cat out of a chair and bade Hermione to sit down. 'You'll be wanting to replace that with something thicker before winter sets in, it can get fairly cold in a house as old as this one…and we only use the fireplaces and stove as a source of heat. Are you hungry? Or perhaps a pot of tea?' At Hermione's nod, the woman called out for a house-elf, and this time a female appeared; strangely dressed in a black towel and a white mob cap perched precariously over one ear. 'Leah, cut a sandwich or two and prepare a pot of tea; our guest is chilled to the bone and we must make her feel welcome.'
'Yes, missus McGonagall,' Leah bobbed her head and vanished through a door that Hermione had not noticed at first glance; reappearing a few seconds later with a tray containing a pot of tea and two cups, and a plate heaped with small triangles. Mrs McGonagall poured the tea and offered sugar and milk, the former of which was declined with a small shake of refusal.
'Am I to meet Miss McGonagall this evening, or has she retired to bed?' Hermione asked as she sipped her tea, waving away the offer of a sandwich for the present.
'Hmm? Miss McGonagall?' the housekeeper was strangely puzzled but then let out a slight chuckle as she shook her head. 'Ah, you mean Miss Delacour! Fleur Delacour is the name of your charge.'
'Forgive me, I had assumed that my pupil was your daughter,' Hermione apologised as she placed her teacup back in its saucer on the tray. Mrs McGonagall waved her apology away with a smile.
'It's quite alright, my dear…Fleur Delacour is the young ward of Master Severus, I have no family of my own since my husband passed away nigh on twenty years ago.'
'Master Severus?' Hermione parroted, her mind working furiously to try and make the appropriate links. 'I'm a little confused…' Hermione leant her head on her hands and struggled to hide a yawn.
'Ah you poor thing, listen to me babbling on when it's your bed that you'll be wanting,' Mrs McGonagall rose up from her chair and beckoned for Hermione to follow. 'I've had the rooms made up just along the corridor from mine; Fleur is in the east wing and Master Severus has the west…Come, get some rest and I'll answer all of your questions once you've rested.' Hermione followed the housekeeper along the darkened corridors, with only the dim glow from the housekeeper's wand lighting their way. Her room had been prepared and a low burning fire glowed from the grate, Mrs McGonagall pointed out the door to the bathroom, and Hermione was pleased to see that her belongings had been unpacked and a warm nightgown lay across the foot of the bed.
'Breakfast is at eight in the small sitting room, I'll have Leah show you the way. Have a good rest my dear, and I will see you in the morning.' Mrs McGonagall left Hermione in her new rooms and the tired new governess stripped out of her travelling clothes and pulled on her nightgown, thinking that if she ran a bath she would most likely fall asleep and miss the enjoyment of having a private bathroom for the first time in her life.
