Author's Note
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or take credit for any Harry Potter characters.
My thanks to those who review.
OoOoOo
McGonagall POV
Minerva McGonagall's day had started off like any other. The start of the new school term meant that new students needed to be enrolled and informed. She had immediately set off to her Hogwarts's office, to make a plan for the day. She had already been at several muggle homes already this summer, and so far it there had been good reactions all round.
She found pleasure in the happiness and excitement of the newfound wizards and witches. She experienced a secret joy at being the first magical person these children came into contact with. Children, she found, couldn't hate what they didn't know. They tended to be excited and awed, some relieved that the strange things happening around them could be explained.
It was the parents who made what happened after gaining this knowledge either a bright, happy time or a time of fear and uncertainty. McGonagall had been introducing the wizarding world to muggleborns ever since she was hired at Hogwarts. She had seen a wide array of reactions, from ecstatic parents to dreadful displays of disbelief and anger.
McGonagall could easily assess upon looking at the parents what route of discussion she should pursue. She was hardly foolproof however. She couldn't count all the times she had to obliviate muggle police officers and parents just to start things all over again.
She could vaguely remember in her younger years, having plates and vases thrown at her head. It was fear and uncertainty that made people lash out, she was after all; asking to take their child away for most of the year, to a school they didn't know existed.
It was an art really, not that she would ever call it that, but it took a certain finesse to help the unbelieving through the process. McGonagall learned very early that the best way was to show what she was talking about. She absently remembered a phrase from some American movie, "Seeing is believing," or something odd like that. But it worked, and it shocked most parents enough to sit and listen, and to connect the dots themselves.
But as much hassle as it was, McGonagall loved summer the most out of all the year. Even more, perhaps, than the end-of-feast ceremony, when her proud lion cubs won the House Cup.
She sat at her desk, reviewing the letters stacked in neat piles. She went through them methodically, signing off when needed and storing away information for later. One letter caught her eye as it surfaced from the pile. It was of thick parchment, and held a heavy weight to it. She sliced the letter open quickly, her curiosity sparked.
It was of course a ministry letter, urgently requesting her presence at the ministry. McGonagall's brow furrowed. Why would they need her there? She already had the list of discovered muggleborns, there was no need of her at the ministry then. Perhaps there was a mistake? Or some deeper matter at hand? She checked the date from the letter, and the date read today.
McGonagall rose from her chair, folding the letter and placing it in her robes. She opened the grate on her fireplace, taking a pinch of Floo powder from the tin container. She checked for her wand, and threw the powder into the fireplace.
"Ministry of Magic!"
OoOoOo
To her utter surprise, she was ushered into a courtroom the moment she arrived. She spotted Albus and the minster, along with all the heads of the school boards. She did not take kindly to being hustled, nor did she take kindly to the obvious information gap she seemed to have in comparison to the headmaster.
She decided the first course of action was to fix that problem immediately. She walked to him, and Albus edged over to let her in the conversation.
"Minerva, I am pleased to see you got our letter. I was about to send another one. We couldn't start, not without you," Fudge acknowledged her. He seemed nervous, fidgeting with his hands as he spoke.
"I am most pleased to hear that, Cornelius. Though, I cannot say I am pleased with the urgency of this meeting. What is going on?" McGonagall asked, taking a quick view across the courtroom. She instantly recognized the eleven other members. Fudge had assembled the Board of Governors.
"Well Minerva, that is an excellent question," he raised his voice, alerting the other members. "Shall we gather?"
Albus simply waved his wand and a table appeared with enough seats for the fourteen of them in the middle of the courtroom floor. Minerva sighed; Dumbledore never really had perfect transfiguring abilities. The table was grand, but the chairs were simple, and looked quite uncomfortable.
Each person dealt with this problem in his or her own way. Minerva simply transfigured the seat it something more her style. Others summoned cushions or popped in their own seats. As the fourteen finally settled, the Minister spoke up.
"Thank you for all assembling on such short notice," Fudge began.
A woman seated across from Minerva scrambled for her wand, and soon had a quick note-quill recording on some parchment. Minerva caught her eye a nodded her appreciation. Malfalda Hopkins just smiled in response. They all didn't have a particular fondness for the current Minister, and even Minerva wouldn't put it past Fudge to do something underhanded.
"Oh, yes, good, good." Fudge realized what Malfalda was doing. "It is probably for the best this is recorded."
Albus spoke. "That is correct, Minister. Now could you please tell me and the Board of Governors what purpose we have here this morning?"
McGonagall looked sharply at Dumbledore, who was sitting at her right. Even Dumbledore was pulled in the morning for something he did not know? Minerva's view on today's impromptu meeting was deeply altered. She took stock in his attitude.
Albus Dumbledore was sitting straight up in his seat. His eyes did not have the expected twinkle, instead a steely concerned gaze bored into the Minister's own eyes. If Dumbledore was concerned, then Minerva should be even more so. She saw the other eleven members take notice of this change as well. She observed the subtle changes take place, straighter posture and stricter face expressions.
"Why yes, straightaway." Fudge cleared his throat nervously, his eyes darting around the table, settling on Lucius Malfoy.
"As you know, each year at precisely 12'oclock on July 1st, the Ministry issues a list with all muggleborns who will be contacted for Hogwarts," Fudge started slowly.
The table nodded in agreement towards Fudge, not sure what this had to do with anything.
"Well, we would have no way of knowing what muggles are magical or not without help from an instrument from the Founding Four of Hogwarts."
An irritated sigh came from across the table, McGonagall turned to see that it was Griselda Marchbanks, who had backgrounds in the Improper Use of Magic department.
"I think we all know what you are talking about. Thoth's Scroll is hardly secret. Though I am still in favor of the item being turned over to the Board of Governors, rather than the Department of Mysteries, we all know it somehow tracks down muggle children. Let's get on with it shall we? I have a hearing in an hour!" Griselda huffed in obvious disapproval.
Fudge spoke again. "Yes, Thoth's Scroll. Exactly, Mrs. Marchbanks. Every year at the precise same time names appear on the scroll until the next year. Every name is recorded and every student tracked down. This year was no different. The fact of the matter is; we never knew what made the Scroll work or how it knew what muggleborns had powers and who didn't. We have never had a problem with the Scroll. Until last night, that is."
"Merlin's Beard! Is the scroll harmed?" A man cried out. Tiberius Ogden was a stout supporter of Dumbledore. Minerva suspected that is how he came to be accepted onto the School Board. But McGonagall had no qualms with the man. He was kind hearted and took his job seriously.
"No, no, no." Fudge supplied hastily. "The Scroll is not harmed in any way we can perceive."
"Then please, Minister," Malfoy sneered, "if the scroll is not destroyed, however good news that would be, then what has brought us here today?"
Most at the table scowled at the prejudiced pureblood sitting at the table. It was no secret Malfoy bought his way on the Board, using the Minister as leverage.
"We released the list to the Board as usual. However, when checking rounds last night, an Unspeakable noticed that three new names had been added, in red ink. Now, that is highly irregular. The Scroll has never added names before in the history we know of, and it has never written in red ink. Always black ink, always on July 1st."
At this announcement, the table erupted in discussion and disbelief. Everyone was shocked; it was the first time in history Thoth's Scroll had added names after July 1st. Fudge pulled out a very sturdy looking stroll. He unrolled it delicately, and the fine drawings and writings on the page made it unmistakably recognizable as Thoth's Scroll. He passed the important parchment around the table, everyone looking at the three bolded red names at the bottom of the scroll with their own eyes.
Now McGonagall knew why they were summoned. They needed to decide what to do with those three names. Albus cleared his throat expectantly. The table quieted immediately, turning to Dumbledore.
"There are many things, big and small, which we wish we had answers to. However, these are answers we cannot have access to, for now. Let us instead, focus on the facts. Thoth's Scroll has one goal, and that goal is to inform us of the muggleborn students who will come to Hogwarts, if they wish it," Albus turned his body towards Fudge. "I therefore, suggest we are given the names of these three children, and continue as if nothing was odd at all," Albus suggested.
"That is all very good and noble, Albus," Malfoy sneered. "But there is the simple question of why only these three names showed up in red, or why they showed up at all," he passed the scroll along, and there was visible relief from the others as he did this. "Perhaps they are in red for a reason, maybe these children are dangerous. We simply do not know. Are we to endanger the other children for the sake of the few? I suggest, that until we know, we should not allow these children within the company of the other children." Malfoy smiled; his teeth achingly white. "I doubt the world will suffer from a few less muggleborns and a Potter, after all."
"Lucius," the Minister gasped, shocked at his blatant disrespect. "All magical students are allowed at Hogwarts. This will not be discussed."
"That is quite right, Minister," Dumbledore murmured. "Hogwarts accepts any child with significant magical ability; and we cannot withhold the opportunity to attend."
McGonagall couldn't believe the nerve of Malfoy. If the utter disrespect to muggleborns was any indication, then Malfoy should not be allowed a hundred feet near the front of the castle, let alone help run it!
Broderick Bode spoke up as he examined the parchment. "Two of these names here, it isn't right. Luna Lovegood is a child born of two magical parents; she should not be on this list. Lovegoods have a long line of magic, and why is Harry Potter on this list if he was already on the other?"
"Is the other one even from muggle parents?" McGonagall spoke up.
Fudge cut in. "Yes, a Miss Hermione Granger." He pulled out pictures of the two girls in question. One moving, the other not. "Miss Lovegood is only ten years old, but she showed up on the list to be invited to Hogwarts this year. Miss Granger is the proper age, as is Mr. Potter."
"Are you quite certain the scroll hasn't been tampered with?" Malfalda asked hesitantly.
"Yes, the Department of Mysteries is extremely guarded and monitored. There is no explanation for this. There will be a more thorough investigation, but it won't be ready in time for the school year," Fudge shifted about in his seat.
After everyone had their chance to look over the photos and review the facts, Albus raised his voice so he could be heard clearly.
"I suggest that until we know what all of this means, we simply add the names to the regular list and they begin as first years. I think the Board needs to take a vote. "
McGonagall rose, as did the rest of the eleven, leaving Dumbledore and Fudge in their seats. The Board moved away from the table, and they talked amongst themselves for a short while. They returned to the table shortly.
"Ten agree to two disagree, the children will be allowed to come to Hogwarts as first years as the scroll indicates by majority vote. The knowledge at this meeting will not be spread, any information will be given on a need to know basis. This decision was finalized at eleven forty two A.M. This Board of Governors meeting is disbanded." McGonagall summarized for the sake of the quick quill.
After it had finished, the quill laid by the parchment. McGonagall duplicated a copy of for the members, and she distributed them on the way out. In short order, it was only she, Albus, and Fudge still in the room.
"Do not worry, Cornelius; I am sure it will get sorted out in short order. McGonagall is Hogwarts recruiter for muggleborns; she hasn't lost a student yet." Albus reassured.
"I hope you're right, Albus, if these three don't show up, we might never know why they appeared on that list of names. We need to assure they do have magical powers, imagine the scandal if the scroll cited a squib and regular muggle. Don't even get me started on The Boy who Lived! I could lose my place in the Ministry!"
And, with that, the Minister stormed out.
OoOoOo
Albus had immediately invited her to his office after the meeting. They had discussed possibilities and the meaning of the names on the scroll, but it came down to what they didn't now, why these three children were special. Harry Potter was easily explained, all the wizarding world knew the boy's name. But, in truth, it only raised more questions. Why was his name thrown in the mix of two unknown children? How did all the strings attach?
Minerva had agreed to put Miss Granger on her rounds for today. She had already gotten half of the new students out of the way. As she left his office she didn't feel particularly comforted, if magical artifacts started acting up, what could be next? The sorting hat refusing to sort?
Minerva started on her day, going door to door for those on her list. The day went as she had expected, and only one vase was thrown at her. It had all worked out well however, and all students were ready to head to Hogwarts when their time came. None of the parents seemed too shocked, most already knew their child was different, and it was a relief to most of them to have an explanation.
She had spotted a few children she knew she would enjoy teaching to later in the year at Hogwarts. But the time came and she couldn't avoid it any longer. The sun had begun its decent, and McGonagall could not ignore the aching curiosity within her to find out just who this Hermione Granger was. She had left Miss Granger as the last on her list because she was practical. She had a strange sense of foreboding that this may be the hardest assignment of the day.
She looked at the address on her list; it was right in the heart of the city in a well-to-do subdivision. She was almost surprised that Dumbledore did not handle this case himself, but perhaps he realized he did not have the most delicate touch at such things. Minerva allowed herself a small smile at the thought. Better at something than Dumbledore? How preposterous!
She took the muggle cab; she could not appartate to a place she had not seen. It was one of the inconveniences of the job; muggle transportation was always limited and slow. But it was sort of thrilling, she mused. Hailing down a cab and using muggle money. It seemed far more exciting than simply apparating, for she did that every day.
She arrived at the address; she paid the man quickly and stepped out. The house was large by her standard of muggles. They had big front yard; the house itself sat back away from the road. They had their own private drive and two garages attached to the house. The grass was immaculately mowed and kept. So far, her first impressions were good.
She walked up the driveway, pausing at the door. She knocked firmly and stood back. She heard a woman's voice through the door, and a moment or so later the door opened.
McGonagall quickly assessed the man before her. Middle aged, strong build. He wore a white Oxford shirt with a half done tie. But McGonagall looked for the eyes. Brown and curious, slightly on edge. Perfectly normal for someone seeing a stranger at the door.
A woman joined the man at the door, looking at her curiously. Her eyes to McGonagall were sharp and stressed. She was dressed rather fancifully, with a long green dress gracing her frame.
"Hello. Are you Mr. And Mrs. Granger?" she greeted, starting the process.
"We are, how can we help you?" The Grangers seem to tense up at the question, as if expecting bad news.
"I have come to talk about your daughter, Miss Hermione Granger. She has been accepted into a prodigious school. An opportunity that should not be passed up." If it was at all possible, the couple before her tensed even more at the mention of Hermione's name. McGonagall narrowed her eyes.
"I'm sorry, but we are not really interested in schools at the moment, my wife and I have someplace to be tonight." Mr. Granger replied politely, but firmly. He moved to close the door, but McGonagall had dealt with this before. She stopped the door before he could close it halfway.
"This will be worth your while Mr. Granger. I assure you, this is no scam. May I come in? I am sure this will take no time at all," she said in an equally firm voice.
Mr. Granger looked at her with new, calculating eyes. He observed her for a moment, and opened the door wide for her to enter.
McGonagall entered the room, walking into what must be their living room. She got her first glimpse at what she assumed to be the girl in question, dressed to go out like her parents. Every part of her skin was covered, a style she didn't see very often in young girls. The girl's bushy hair was half brushed into a semblance of control. She turned and looked at McGonagall with something like shock and surprise in her face. Minerva noticed the appalling amount of makeup on the girl.
The house was spotless, every surface clean with everything in its place. Family pictures lined the mantle of the fireplace and shelves. At first glance, it seemed a perfect household. She turned to the parents, who were watching her.
"Right, my name is Professor McGonagall. I teach at the school your daughter has been accepted to."
"Wait, wait, wait. Accepted? We haven't submitted any applications to any schools," Mr. Granger pointed out. That was a common question for most parents; McGonagall gave him the standard answer she gave to all.
"Students with certain qualifications are submitted immediately. Your daughter is one of these scholarship students," McGonagall drew her wand from her clothes, preparing to use it. "Your daughter, quite simply put, is a witch. You might have noticed some odd things happening around her. Accidental magic. Perhaps a life or death situation was changed and seen as a miracle? Hogwarts, the school your daughter has been accepted to, is a school that teaches young witches and wizards how to use their talents in a responsible, productive way," McGonagall paused, taking in the shocked looks of her parents.
McGonagall simply nodded, knowing there was only one way to get things done swiftly and efficiently. She twirled her wand in the air, sending blue sparks out of the tip. She pointed her wand at the coffee table, levitating several magazines around the room before setting them back down.
McGonagall turned to see the young girl's reaction. The face of an excited and awed little girl looked back at her. Hermione's eyes, she concluded, already showed signs of amazing intelligence. She gave the little girl one of her rare, encouraging smiles, causing her to blush at the attention and turn to her mother.
McGonagall saw something in the girl's face as she turned, something the heavy makeup did not quite cover up. She frowned immediately. She hardly had time to contemplate the problem before she was caught off guard.
"How the HELL did you do that?" Mrs. Granger screeched, catching Professor McGonagall by surprise. McGonagall turned to her, knowing every parent had a different reaction. She took in the red face of Mrs. Granger, and the steely look of anger in Mr. Granger.
"Look, lady, I don't know what you are trying to pull, but our daughter is not a witch! I am asking you to leave this instant. We have plans tonight and they will not be interrupted by some crazed woman coming from who knows where!" Mr. Granger protested lowly.
"Mr. Granger, your daughter has a talent that needs supervision and she needs to learn how to use the gift she was born with. Hogwarts has had a long history teaching the brightest of this country. I can arrange a meeting to meet with the Headmaster and tour the school if you like."
"Our daughter will not be going to some freak school to hone in her Devil talents!" Mrs. Granger screeched.
Mr. Granger turned to his wife, silencing her with a glare. He turned back to her. "Our daughter does not have any talents, and has never exhibited any of the miracles you describe. She is a dull girl with no remarkable talents to speak of, if any talent at all. So I would appreciate if you left now."
"Mr. Granger," McGonagall said in a shocked voice. She could not image a person dragging their daughter through the mud like he had just done. She took a breath and tried again. "Hogwarts is not a school for Devils, as your wife just claimed. It is for young children who need to be taught the basics of magic. Your daughter will not be considered an evil thing for coming to the school; she will be quite safe. Think of it as a higher form of education. Your daughter would be on scholarship, learning how to control her magic. It does not matter if you have not seen any of the accidental magic happening. I have been assured that your daughter is, indeed magical." McGonagall said firmly, eyeing the couple in front of her. They were both turning varying shades of red.
"Do not speak to me about magic schools and scholarships! I said no, and I mean it. My daughter will not leave this house!" Mr. Granger growled.
McGonagall watched as Mrs. Granger pulled him to the side. He shot one more evil look at her before giving his wife his attention.
"What if she is right?" she whispered to her husband. "This might be the only time we can get rid of that evil snit. If this crazy bitch wants her, why not let her? Tell her to never bring her back, too."
Professor McGonagall could not believe what she was hearing. Her mouth dropped as she listened.
"Think about it! Next time she could infect us! We cannot resist the Devil forever, and you and I both know what is in that girl. Nothing has worked!" Mr. Granger paused for a moment, taking in his wife's words.
"Mr. Granger, I can see you and your wife are upset, perhaps we should just calm down and talk some more, you do not want to do anything you will regret." McGonagall edged.
Mr. Granger looked up, straightening with a truly terrifying look upon his face. "LIKE HELL I DO!"
He marched smartly over to the couch where the girl was sitting, and dragged her roughly by the neck. He practically flung the girl at her, and before McGonagall could react she helped catch the girl's balance. She considered cursing the two adults before her, but knew it wasn't legal. How could they treat their child like this?
Mr. and Mrs. Granger both began yelling once more.
"You want the little freak? You can have her! Little devil spawn can be your problem now! I don't care! Not looking so eager now are you? Well I am not taking her back. Her mum and I have been dealing with her shit ever since she was young. So take her! Pack and go! Don't be here when we get back! Let's go dear!" Mr. Granger grabbed his coat and his wife and stormed out, shouting curses until doors and cars blocked him.
To say McGonagall was in shock was an understatement. Never, in her long history had parents stormed out with the intent of leaving their child. She was entirely alone with Hermione Granger. She looked down at the girl who was trying to discreetly edge away from her. Well, if her parents had truly abandoned her, then Hermione Jean Granger was her responsibility now.
She laid her hand on the girl's shoulder gently. Hermione flinched at this simple contact, not that McGonagall had expected anything less. She was a stranger to this girl after all.
She led the girl down the hall, looking quickly for a room that looked like the girl's. She nearly missed, so plain and empty the room appeared. But the book on horses at the desk was decidedly childish, and it was this rom she led the Hermione in.
"What do you wish to take with you, Hermione?" she asked firmly, hoping the girl wouldn't burst into hysterics until they got to a hotel. It had to be traumatic, one's own parents leaving you. McGonagall's heart reached out to Hermione, but she stayed firm, knowing a soft heart now would only make the young child break down.
The child didn't ask any questions, or complain like McGonagall expected. Hermione merely stacked a pitiful amount of clothes on the bed. She set a small pile of books on the bed as well, not a single toy in sight. McGonagall thought it increasingly odd and worrying, that a household with such lavish decorations in the house, there was not a single toy for the only daughter of a rich family. She was beginning to conclude that the outburst was not one of surprise of shock, but of heartfelt sentiment. She could see that Hermione was trying to hold back tears, and it was valiant effort. Her respect for the little girl rose in that moment as she gathered her belongings quietly and efficiently.
Hermione stopped moving, standing beside the bed with expectant eyes. McGonagall waved her wand at the pile, vanishing it from sight.
"Come along now, child." McGonagall turned and walked down the hallway, holding the front door open for her. She didn't bother to lock the door; if Mr. and Mrs. Granger got robbed, she hadn't a care. She reached down for Hermione's arm, fully intending to get out of this place as soon as possible. Hermione flinched at the contact, and she felt the need to explain.
"I am about to preform something called side long apparition. It will be slightly uncomfortable, but think of it as instant teleportation, of a sort. Alright, Miss Granger?" McGonagall knew the girl didn't truly understand, but it was the only way to get to where she needed to go in a timely manner. Hermione nodded uncertainly at her, and McGonagall wasted no more time.
In what seemed merely a moment to her, she apparated to a side alley of the Diagon shopping center. Hermione immediately collapsed on her all fours beside her. McGonagall distastefully remembered her own first experience side long apparating. She laid a comforting hand on the girl's back, surprised at Hermione's violent reaction. She cringed from McGonagall like an evil creature of the dark.
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered to her. "Give me but a moment." McGonagall nodded in surprise, knowing the girl on the ground could not see her. McGonagall straightened and looked around. This street was always deserted, off Diagon Alley.
After a moment, Hermione got to her feet. McGonagall worriedly noted that she seemed extremely fatigued. She offered Hermione her hand, not entirely sure if she would take it. The girl stared at it for a long moment before accepting it. McGonagall let out a sigh of relief, though she wasn't sure why.
They walked out of the alley slowly; McGonagall spoke softly to the girl. "I am sorry you had such a violent reaction. First times are usually the worst, but it was the most convenient way to get anywhere quickly unless you want to be tossed about by that terrible Knight Bus."
Hermione just nodded, taking her words for granted, McGonagall supposed. She was disconcerted that Hermione hadn't asked a single question of her so far.
As they entered Diagon alley, and McGonagall noticed that Hermione was not as numb as she looked. Her head turned this way and that, taking measuring looks at the people and stores. That gave her some relief, she was becoming more concerned over Hermione's condition with every step they took. How could she not notice the way her eyes jerked around, not looking at something for too long? Or the way her walk limped? And that horrible makeup on the small girl's face: what did that hide?
"Come along, we are almost there," she encouraged Hermione, seeing the building she aimed for up ahead.
She helped the girl up the stairs, quietly casting a strengthening charm on her when Hermione began showing signs of distress. Hermione needed to lie down immediately. She did not know exactly what was wrong with Hermione as of yet, but she planned on finding out. A sick feeling in her stomach told her what may be hurting young Hermione, but she did not draw any conclusions yet.
She quickly booked a room and headed down the hallway. Hermione followed, and McGonagall opened the door quickly. She heard Hermione's gasp of delight and surprise at the large room before her. She felt a rush of jubilation from making the girl happy, at least for the moment.
She let Hermione go to the window, trying to figure how to go about this in a way that wouldn't frighten her. McGonagall walked up behind the girl stiffly. She was about to open her mouth when Hermione tuned towards her.
McGonagall rubbed her fingers together nervously; knowing what she was going to ask Hermione would be embarrassing for her. She frowned; raising her fingers for inspection after finding them surprisingly sticky. Red juice was on her fingers. No, juice wasn't this thick. What had she touched lately? Only Hermione's back…
McGonagall looked up in horror at Hermione, who was blushing furiously. The blood didn't seem to be helping her, for Hermione swayed and toppled suddenly.
McGonagall saw her begin to fall and stepped forward as a reflex to catch the girl. Hermione collapsed in her arms. McGonagall would not count herself as a strong woman in the way of muscles, she was wisp thin and she knew it. But she could pick up Hermione with ease; she weighed lighter than air.
McGonagall swiftly set her on the bed. If McGonagall was good at one thing, it was thinking quickly in a crisis. She immediately searched for the source of blood. She didn't have to search far.
Hermione's back was mass of oozing wounds and scabs. Any skin left was heavily bruised, an ugly yellow green. McGonagall immediately vanished the bloodstained blue dress, leaving the girl only in her underclothes. She categorized each wound in a matter of urgency. Not only was her back marred, but her arms and legs had signs of burn marks and scars as well. McGonagall knew she would need to stop the more serious bleeding before taking Hermione to Saint Mungos. She levitated Hermione to the bathroom quickly, summoning a padded table to lay her on.
She went to work immediately, one healing spell after another. It was only when the danger passed and Hermione sleeping peacefully in the large hotel bed did she begin to feel the anger. Minerva McGonagall had never in her life felt such fury at another human being. Their odd behavior made perfect sense now. As much as she wanted hold on to the anger, the righteous fury melted at the next emotion that wracked her body. She was protective of the small, hurt girl lying unconscious. She felt visibly sick knowing the child beside her had suffered terribly at the hands of her own parents. McGonagall looked down at the pale, curled up child on the bed. McGonagall tucked a stray hair away from the child's face, intently watching Hermione's face, peaceful in sleep. In that moment, she vowed to help Hermione Granger in any way she could.
She needed to contact Dumbledore.
OoOoOo
The dull red light hit Hermione's eyes. She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of warmth enclosed around her. She felt protected, almost. She began to hear muffled voices. It was like marshmallows were in her ears. She concentrated, making out two different voices.
"Are you sure you want to do this Minerva? We do not know the extent she has been pushed, she could become terribly hard to handle."
"Albus, you speak as if she is a beaten puppy. She cannot go back to her parents, if you can even call them that. They nearly beat her to death! I spent an hour on her back alone Albus! She will have those scars forever. If not with me, then allow me to find someone worthy."
"No, Minerva, I will have the temporary papers signed by the end of today. If what you say is true, Mrs. and Mr. Granger will not mind signing them as well. We will see how things progress next summer, if it should be permanent or not."
"You saw her memory as well as I did, do you think it will be enough for the Wizengamot to take legal action?"
"The problem will be getting her permission to use her memory in court, otherwise, they may just get a fine and a loss of their daughter. I took her memory as an emergency, but I cannot use it in a court without her express approval."
"I see. Thank you, Albus."
"Anytime, Minerva. But perhaps this Christmas, you can remember I like lemon drops?"
Hermione stirred at the odd words, opening her eyes to the well-lit room. She narrowed her eyes immediately, the light hard to adjust to. But adjust her eyes did, and she looked around the room. She was in a place she could hardly describe, even to herself. The ceilings were incredibly tall, like a citadel she read about in her art books. This obviously was not her room.
Row upon row, pristine white beds lined the wall. Matching stands stood beside each bed. All of them were empty except the one she occupied. There were 12 beds in all, and an enormous double door stood at the far end of here she lay. They looked incredibly heavy, she doubted she would be able them on her own. She was next to a huge window at opposite end of the doors. She was in the last bed in the row.
She sat up and looked around, not seeing anything that could connect with the voices she heard. She turned towards the window, looking out in amazement at the view. She saw well-kept lawn slope downward until it became flat and in the distance, she could see strange looking things. They were like a bubble blowing sticks of enormous proportions, she almost laughed at that thought. Beyond that she could see thick trees covering on as far as she could see. She guessed wherever she was; it had a bit of height to it.
She frowned as the night's events came back to her. Tears filled her eyes and poured over. Hermione let her head fall in her hands, drawing her knees up to her. She sobbed; she missed her parents, and her room. She wasn't mad at her parents for saying those awful things; Hermione knew how true every word was. She hoped they didn't mean she couldn't ever come back. She loved them, she would do anything for them. She didn't mean to be evil, she would try harder to be good, she swore!
The sound of a door opening put Hermione in a panic. She quickly wiped her face and eyes, trying to rid herself of the tears. She looked around wildly for the source of the sound. From a side door she didn't notice until now, three people walked towards her. One she recognized, Professor McGonagall, was it? The other two were entirely unfamiliar to her. A man with an extremely long white beard and pointy hat, and a woman who reminded her of a nurse stood in front of her. Hermione looked to the heavy set doors and wondered if she should make a break for it.
But it was too late; they were too close. She would never make it. She took a final swipe at her eyes and hoped it wouldn't show. Her parents would be mad at her for crying; she would be better.
The man with the odd clothes and beard spoke first. "Hello, Hermione, my name is Albus Dumbledore. You must be very confused as to where you are right now, but I can assure you, any question can be answered."
Hermione noticed the distinction between "can" and "will" be answered. But she didn't voice it. She looked at McGonagall. She seemed more relaxed than she did before, Hermione wondered why.
"This," Dumbledore carried on after getting no reaction, "is Madame Pomfrey. She is the school nurse; she has been taking care of you since you got here two days ago. It is nice to see you up and awake, if I may say so."
Hermione could have sworn Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. Hermione touched her cheek, makeup gone from her face. "Two days?" she whispered to herself. She didn't see the concerned glances passed between the three adults.
"Yes," McGonagall answered. "Madame Pomfrey here got you all healed up in the meantime."
Hermione looked up just in time to see Madame Pomfrey smiling at her. She looked confusedly at the three adults. "W—where am I?" she asked softly.
"Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Dumbledore said rather cheerfully. He reached in his pocket and offered her a box. Hermione took it cautiously, reading the label. Bertie Bots Every Flavored Jellybeans? What on Earth?
"Where are my parents?" Hermione looked up hopefully. "Are they coming to get me?" Hermione desperately hoped whatever happened last night… two days ago, was all just a misunderstanding. Her parents wouldn't leave her alone here. They loved her. Hermione loved them.
The three adults now looked decidedly awkward. It was McGonagall that spoke up. She sat on the edge of the bed carefully, looking Hermione in the eye.
"Hermione, when we found you, you were in bad shape. You were hurt, very badly. People who run the Government, they disagree with the way your parents treated you. It has been decided that you will stay at Hogwarts full time until a later date. Do you understand, Hermione? Do you need me to explain it a different way?" McGonagall asked softly, searching her eyes.
Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing, her parents not treating her right? That wasn't right, she was the bad one! She couldn't stop the tears running down her face now, no matter how hard she tried.
"Please, that's wrong, I am the bad one! I am the one who needs to be punished; they were helping me! Take me back, please! I'll be good I promise, I'll try harder!" Hermione reached for McGonagall's arm, and was surprised when she let her.
"Hermione, there is nothing wrong with you. Nothing wrong at all. You are a perfect little girl." McGonagall insisted sternly.
"No! I'm evil! Don't hurt my parents, please, let me see them, I want to be with my parents. Don't take me away from my parents please. I'm the evil one; they were only helping. I need to be punished!" her tears were uncontrollable; she was having a hard time forming words. "I'm the bad one!" she screamed.
McGonagall looked in distress to Dumbledore, who was looking at Hermione with shock and pity. Dumbledore spoke a few quiet words to Madame Pomfrey, and she soon returned with a potion.
"Come on lass, take small sips of this now." Madame Pomfrey urged.
Hermione fought at first, screaming for her parents. But Madame Pomfrey was a crafty witch; this wasn't her first rodeo with a screaming and scared child. She slipped a few drops in while the girl was screaming for her parents; the potion took effect immediately, calming the child down quickly. Soon she was curling up on her side, sniffling for her mum.
For several minutes the only thing the three adults did was observe the now sleeping child. All three had matching looks of concern and dismay.
"Azkaban is too good for them." McGonagall spat out before turning toe to heel and marched out of the Infirmary.
Albus nodded thoughtfully, but before leaving, he tucked the sleeping child back under her covers. Albus nodded to Madame Pomfrey, and he to left.
Madame Pomfrey had a brainwashed child in her care, with so many wounds it would take the entire summer to address. Looking at the child now, she wiped a stray tear away. How could any parent do this to their child? She smoothed the bushy hair out of the child's face. The bruise was nearly gone, but the child's memory would not disappear so easily.
Though she hated to say it, the child would be good for Minerva. She couldn't remember a time she saw that woman express any sort of emotion willingly. Now she was smiling and trying to reassure a child she just met.
However, she didn't know if even Minerva could help the broken child.
Hermione slept dreamlessly.
OoOoOo
Hermione awoke alone and in the dark. She immediately froze, panic seizing her. Memories came to her faster than they did before. To test it, she reached her hand out; touching the window she knew was there. She sat up, her eyes adjusting to the dimness. She eased out of bed slowly, testing her muscles. Weak, always weak. She hobbled around to the other side of the bed, the side with the window. The sun was rising, she realized. She could see it just below the tree line, hiding from her. She lifted her hands, making a circle, placing the sun in between them. Hermione did this often at her home, whenever she could get up early enough. Her dad showed her how to do it, when she was really young. He would make up one half of the circle, and Hermione's small hand would make up the other, cupping their own, personal sun.
"That sun will always rise just for you, Hermione, and don't you forget it." He would always bop her on the nose with his finger after he said that.
The sun rose slowly, Hermione cheered it on silently. It crested the treetops, sending light throughout the lawn. She gave the sun a small smile for its hard work. She let her hands drop.
She turned to go back to the bed. She yelped in surprise, the nurse was standing by her bed already, watching her. She gulped nervously, hoping her noise hadn't made her angry.
They stood and stared at each other for a moment, until the nurse broke the silence. "Come on now, child, up and back into bed. Got to get you looked at."
Hermione didn't question her, she struggled to get back up into the bed, and it didn't seem so tall when she got off. Madame Pomfrey gave her a push with a small smile. She examined her thoroughly, while asking her questions.
"How old are you, then, Hermione?"
"Eleven," she answered. Hermione didn't mind answering the questions. She didn't see any harm in them yet.
"Ah that's a good age, I remember being that age, I had a lot of family. Brother and sisters coming out of my ears. Do you have any siblings?"
Hermione shook her head no. She always wished she did, but on the other hand, she didn't want to hurt her family ever. And what if her little sister made her mad and she ended up hurting them?
"What do you like to do in your free time? I like to heal people, and walk the grounds."
"I like to read books," she answered, so quietly Madame Pomfrey almost didn't hear it.
"Read? That's a great thing to do in your free time. Splendid. Turn over on your belly, please."
Hermione did as she asked, though rather apprehensively. But all the nurse did was rub lotion or something into her back carefully. Hermione tried not to think about the bad things that got her punished.
She finished and left for a short while, Hermione spent the time gazing out the window.
When Madame Pomfrey came back, she brought Professor McGonagall with her. The nurse set the tray she was holding on Hermione's lap, drawing her attention away from the window. It was so beautiful out; it was hard to look away. It was a big lunch, a sandwich and fruit salad, with a cup of tea. Hermione's stomach turned at the thought of the food.
"I'm not hungry," she whispered.
"Well, I can't leave until you eat it, so I hope you find an appetite before I have to use the bathroom," Madame Pomfrey joked.
Hermione took the sandwich, taking a hesitant bite before spitting it out. Her stomach rolled violently. She clapped a hand to her mouth. Madame Pomfrey was ready however, and she handed her a wastebasket.
It was a horrible experience, and Hermione didn't know if the two adults holding her hair out of the way and holding her hand made it worse or better.
"It goes either way," Madame Pomfrey chatted. "Either they devour the meal or the end up sick. Never really knew why personally. One of the mysteries of the body, but I suppose it has purpose."
Hermione nodded when she felt better. Professor McGonagall handed her a handkerchief. Hermione wiped her mouth with a shaky hand. Madam Pomfrey took the wastebasket and handed her in exchange a mug.
Hermione looked at her with suspicion, but the liquid in the cup didn't look the same color as the sleeping potion. Madame Pomfrey saw her looking and laughed. Hermione blushed and looked away immediately.
"I assure you it is not a sleeping potion, merely a nutrient drink. You'll have to take it until you can eat. That is what happens when you don't eat for several days."
Hermione took one last glance at the content of the cup before drinking in back quickly. She hesitated, waiting for a similar violent reaction. Nothing came back up, and she relaxed a bit.
"Good," Madam Pomfrey smiled, taking the cup. "I'll just leave you alone for a bit shall I?" Madame Pomfrey nodded at McGonagall, and walked away with a cheerful step.
Shortly, with a bang of a door, Hermione was alone with McGonagall. McGonagall took a deep breath and smiled at Hermione. She didn't know to be worried or reassured.
"Hermione, things will be difficult for you, I won't lie. But Hogwarts will be a good place for you. You will be staying at Hogwarts for the rest of the summer, and then school will start. Many students will come, and you will be one of them. There will be so many things to learn and friends to make. Madame Pomfrey and I will be here all summer for you. We will start slow, okay? Once you get your strength up we can walk the grounds and tour Hogwarts. Does that sound good to you?"
Hermione couldn't forget her parents, and knew she would have to bring them up again. But for a moment, she let herself imagine what McGonagall was saying. Hermione did want to explore. But she wanted her parents to be with her. She needed to make a plan to bring up again in a way they wouldn't put her to sleep again. So she gave an honest answer.
"That sounds nice," she admitted.
"I brought you something so you won't be bored lying around here." McGonagall brought out her wand and twirled it. A book popped into Hermione's lap.
Hermione picked the book up, appreciating the weight of it. It looked old and used, a favorite quality Hermione loved. She ran her hands over the cover, feeling the bumps and bevels.
"Thank you, I love books," Hermione murmured to her in gratitude.
"I know, someone told me." McGonagall nodded. "If you need someone to talk to, Madame Pomfrey and I are here and available at any time. I will check in on you soon." McGonagall rose, giving her a small smile.
Hermione gave a faint smile back.
After she left, Hermione looked back to the book. She read the title.
Hogwarts, A History