Chapter 2 : Divergence...
Discreetly glancing at the redhead sitting in front of her, the rapid well-oiled clockwork she called her mind concluded rather simply: Ron Weasley was acting very strangely. He was eying him with naked distrust rather than obsessive adoration, polishing the dishes around him in a slower rate.
That was a clear indication that her friend was distressed.
Honestly, it was better than having a scene during breakfast. The temper he had inherited from his mother could be quite a handful sometimes. His caustic tongue-lashing put a damper to one of her most enjoyable nights in this semester. She did not deserve it. She spent most of the night crying, unable to believe that Ron would speak so ill of her: especially in front of their best friend, Harry.
At the thought of the other good friend, she shot a perfunctory look at him.
Harry was having a conversation with Neville about Herbology. It was strange how a much-needed, life-saving ball of gillweed could change his perception of that discipline. He was nodding attentively as Neville, with flushed cheeks, talked animatedly about his favourite subject. Occasionally, he would glance at his friend discreetly, checking if Ron was keeping his temper in check.
His subtle concern for his friends made her smile inwardly.
She had not understood Ron's sudden change of attitude—he seemed almost jealous—she snorted. It was ridiculous that he might be attracted to her since he made it very clear that she did not meet his expectations.
"I'm really fine, Viktor," she found herself asserting again when the quiet Bulgarian seeker gruffly enquired after her health. She barely heard his mumbles over the breakfast chatter. "It's not your fault. You can't stop Skeeter from spinning tales." She swept her annoying fringe offhandedly.
The famous seeker stood adamantly next to her, his stance stiff. He asked if she needed help to deal with the reporter since he was experienced in dealing with the media.
"Didn't you hear what Hermione had just said?" interrupted Ron brusquely, his cheeks flushed. "She's fine. If that is the only reason why you're here, you can return to your breakfast."
Gasps of surprise littered along the Gryffindor table. Their housemates were flabbergasted since they aware of his fixation with the famous Quidditch Star.
Viktor's thick brows furrowed, meeting the gaze of Ron assertively. He righted himself so that he would tower over the younger teenager.
Tensions skyrocketed between the two boys.
Hermione resisted pressing her palms on her face.
"Don't mind him, Krum. Ron's just worried about Hermione—she hasn't touched her breakfast," intercepted Harry smoothly. He glanced pointedly at her plate.
It broke the tensions in the air.
The stoic Durmstrang Champion observed Hermione's breakfast and found it untouched. His stiff stance eased slightly.
Hermione was about to dig in when Viktor stopped at their table to speak to her. It was quite unusual that he would look for her during mealtimes.
Viktor's growing presence around her beyond the premise of the library fed the rumour mill of Hogwarts. She could hear snatches of gossips about them whenever she walked around the school. The students were convinced that Skeeter was correct.
It was not beyond her to see the irony in Viktor's offer to resolve the issue with the press when he was adding credibility to the rumour.
The conversations around the table died down, as if the students anticipated a confrontation.
Viktor coolly scanned him as if he was trying to size Harry up. Harry seemed nonchalant about it, as if he understood the older boy's motive, meeting his gaze self-assuredly. There was a hint of acknowledgment in the older boy's eyes. Moments later, he gruffly relented. "Potter, Take care of Hermy-own-ninny," grunted he, looking sour.
Hermione's brows furrowed.
Before she could protest, Harry came to her defence.
"Hermione is capable of taking care of herself. She is the brightest witch in my year," remarked Harry proudly, turning to smile at Hermione. "Right, Hermione?"
Her cheeks burnt at his sincere compliment. How could he praise her so easily? "Uh-h—" She lowered her gaze to the table, speechless.
"—Yea, Hermione can take care of herself," affirmed Ron loudly, smirking. "Smartest witch I've ever seen. Y'know, she's capable of making her own choices."
She lifted a brow. Did she miss something? Ron seemed to catch on what was happening between Viktor and Harry. Was she getting duller or was this a testosterone thing?
Viktor silently assessed the situation, glancing from one member of the trio to another. "Right," grunted Viktor, rubbing the back of his neck. Finally, his gaze settled upon Hermione.
Hermione remained stubbornly silent.
Krum shifted his weight uneasily. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Uh. I'll see you around in the library, Hermy-own-ninny." He shuffled back to his friends who were lingering at the entrance of the Hall.
"Who does Krum think he is? Hermione's capable of taking care of herself," exploded Ron irately, piling his plate full of food again. "That was a good one, mate. Ought to put him in place." His appetite returned with gusto.
Harry merely shrugged and resumed the conversation he had with Neville. Neville looked at Hermione and Harry interestedly.
For some odd reason, Neville's inquisitive stare made her uncomfortable.
"Sorry, you were talking about your pet project?" prompted Harry. Immediately, the quiet Gryffindor launched into a lecture. Ron, noticing it wasn't about chess or Quidditch, tuned out of the conversation. Discreetly, Harry winked at Hermione while listening to Neville.
The corners of her lips curled upwards as she stared admiringly at her best friend. She did not think that he was serious about being a better friend to her. A surge of warmth flooded her.
"Oi, Hermione! Hermione? You're not intending to go out with him, right?" Ron hurriedly swallowed his food, knowing that speaking to Hermione with a mouth full of food was an automatic ticket to enrage her.
She blinked owlishly, astounded by his question and his abrupt demonstration of table manners.
"Well?" prompted Ron impatiently, setting his cutleries down on the wooden table.
"Him?"
"Yes, him!" snarled Ron. "Krum," spat Ron as if he didn't even want to speak of the person. His ears turned red.
Her smile faded almost immediately as her gaze darkened. "He's only a friend. Haven't I made that clear enough after the Yule Ball?"
Ron's cheeks grew a maddening red.
The hitch in her tone and the colour of Ron's cheeks were warning signals to the other Gryffindors to begin immediate evacuation. With great amusement, Harry watched the House of the Brave vacate the table hastily. Neville swiftly excused himself from the table in the middle of their discussion. The other Gryffindors shifted far away from them, giving them a wide berth.
Very courageous indeed, observed Harry.
Harry sipped from his goblet. He would usually tune his friends out when they show signs of fighting. He didn't like to take sides because he feared losing their friendship. However, he recognised that he had been treating Hermione poorly, allowing Ron to hurt her simply because of his anxiety.
Then, he had an epiphany.
Fear was a powerful weapon capable of crippling nations by shackling their people to accept injustice. It was an illusion, often appearing larger than what it really was. That was how Lord Voldemort and his small band of Death Eaters rose into power more than a decade ago.
Ron's low hiss reminded him that his friends were about to rip each other apart. Their eyes were narrowed as they glared at each other, their shoulders set.
"Mate, just lay it off. You know there's nothing going on between her and Krum. They're only friends," interrupted Harry calmly, staring at his friends.
Ron's eyes widened. "But—"
"According to Skeeter, that's how I should behave, not you," teased Harry, cracking in a small smile. Out of the corner of his eyes, he checked Hermione's reaction—she had become rigid.
Ron's jaw nearly hit the table. His ears pinked.
He spluttered unintelligently, his mouth cycling like a fish.
His twin brothers, who were sitting a good distance away, laughed at the hilarious sight. Secretly, they flashed Harry a thumbs-up.
Finally, Ron, to save himself from further embarrassment, dived back to his plate of food.
The palpable tension between Hermione and Ron broke.
Hermione shot a grateful smile at him. For a moment, he was floored at how easy it was to make his best friend happy. He smiled in return, looking at her untouched plate meaningfully.
She rolled her eyes in faux-annoyance and made a show of eating her breakfast.
Harry chuckled brightly, shaking his head. He knew that she was teasing him. He could feel a gush of affections for her. Harry leaned into his hand, watching her fondly.
Hermione was simply overjoyed that Harry had taken her side. She fought the urge to throw her arms around his neck in gratitude. What would Harry think if she was so open with her affections? She felt another surge of warmth when she watched him refill her goblet with pumpkin juice after replenishing his own goblet.
He was so sweet, mused Hermione fondly.
"Have you considered what other ways she might have bugged you?" posed Harry curiously, taking a sip from his goblet.
She reached for her goblet and sipped from it, contemplating his question. "The only thing I could think of is that she might have bugged me using a form of transfiguration. I've checked with Prof Moody, she couldn't have used an invisibility cloak."
Harry arched a brow.
"I've checked. I wonder if she's like Snuffles," voiced Hermione, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Dumbledore has banned her from the grounds so she has to find a way to enter the grounds without getting his attention." She speared a rash of bacon absently.
"Snuffles and Wormtail had proved that it was possible. It sounds the most feasible."
"It must be something really small," remarked Hermione, grabbing her goblet to wash down her food. She stared at her palm and pretended to clutch something with that hand.
"A flee or a housefly? Her personality suits it: annoying and pesky," suggested Harry.
Hermione's eyes grew wide before bursting into peals of laughter. Forgetting that she was actually in the midst of eating, she choked. Her eyes drew teary as she began coughing. She placed a hand on her chest as she tried to dislodge the piece of food.
Ron glanced at her. "Hermione?"
Harry was swiftly by her side, hitting her back. When she finally dislodged the piece of food, she gratefully took the goblet he had offered.
Concern was replaced by mirth when he saw that she was all right. Unable to contain his laughter, he snorted.
"What just happened, mate?" Ron questioned, staring at them as if they had grown two heads.
She bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to stop herself from laughing. Harry returned to his seat quietly. His eyes flashed with uncontrolled hilarity.
Ron scrutinized both of them, wondering what had transpired between both of his friends. Harry shook his head innocently. "We're wondering how that Skeeter woman could write those nasty articles about Hagrid and us."
"Oh." He made a face. Ron had expressed his disinterest in getting back at Skeeter. Their merciless professors were piling them with so much work that he could barely keep up. He returned to his meal, hoping that they did not need his help.
Harry and Hermione shared another glance with each other. Unable to resist, both of them broke out in guffaws, baffling poor Ron. "Driven bloody batty I tell you, that's what too much research will do to you," murmured Ron under his breath.
The fluttering of birds announced the arrival of the morning mail. Butterflies filled his stomach when he caught sight of his beautiful owl, Hedwig in the brown sea. She was easily the most striking female owl he had ever seen—flawless white plumage, symmetrical body and sparkling large eyes. The white envelope she was holding with her talons was the reason for his nerves.
Hedwig landed gracefully before Hermione, placing the letter besides her plate. Playfully, Hedwig nipped her finger as a way of greeting, winning a sweet smile from Hermione. His best friend thanked his pet. Rubbing his pet's head absently, Hermione withdrew the letter from the envelope and scanned through it rapidly.
Hedwig, to his surprise, closed her eyes and bobbed her head as if she enjoyed Hermione's ministrations.
His brows shot upwards. Hedwig had only shown such partiality to him. Jealousy flared through him for a moment. Hastily, he picked up a rash of bacon from his plate and daggled it before his pet. Instantly, she ate them. She hopped closer to him to greet him lovingly. "So I need food to get your attention?" teased Harry, scratching her feathered stomach. She nipped him harder than usual as if she was admonishing him.
He offered another rash of bacon to her. Briskly, she snatched it out of his fingers. Her feathers were soothed by that peace offering. He smiled, entertained by the antics of his owl. "Go and rest. Hermione will have another letter for you later."
Butterflies returned to his stomach at that prospect. He was momentarily distracted by Hedwig and Hermione. Hedwig nipped his finger affectionately before taking off for the owlery.
"They said yes! They agreed!" squealed Hermione excitedly, grasping his hand tightly, almost bouncing on her seat.
His mind became blank. They accepted? He couldn't believe that the Grangers would want him around.
"Who said yes?" questioned Ron enquiringly, looking at their joined hand strangely.
It had the effect of calming Hermione down. Hermione withdrew her hand, absently smoothing her robes.
"Oh. Hermione's parents have agreed to have me over the Easter holidays." He turned to look at Hermione. "It's very kind of them."
"Don't you have to remain in the castle?" demanded Ron brusquely. "You're actually spending Easter with Hermione? What about me?" He glared at his plate. Irately, he shoved his plate away from him.
Hermione and Harry exchanged a look, knowing that Ron was feeling upset because he was left out of their plans. Harry felt guilty that Ron had only learnt of it now.
Excitement fizzed out and was replaced by concern for her friend. Hermione inclined her head at Harry before packing her things up. He knew what she meant: speak to him and reassure him. Ron wouldn't have appreciated Hermione's presence because he would have seen her as the perpetrator.
Once again, her concern for their friend left Harry astounded.
Harry reached out to stop her when he spotted a beetle buried in her hair. He leaned across the table, reaching for the insect buried in her wavy tresses.
Hermione seemed to attract plenty of beetles lately. She did not change her fragrance— faint vanilla scent that was uniquely her—so he didn't understand what could have enticed them. Carefully, he plucked it from her hair and flung it away. It darted away from them to the nearest window.
Did beetles have black markings on their antennae like that? He did not remember seeing that in his Science classes.
Hermione mouthed her gratitude before hurrying out of the hall, leaving them to talk to each other. Harry settled into his seat, eyeing his friend attentively.
Ron deliberately ignored him, glaring at the table as if it offended him.
"I'm sorry we didn't tell you. Hermione hardly spends time with her parents. She spent a large part of her holidays at your place—"
"Why didn't you tell me?" demanded Ron, his ears red.
"We didn't think you might be interested to go. Besides, it was spontaneous," replied Harry evenly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean with all the publicity of the Triwizard, I want to get out of the magical world for a bit. Hermione's invitation was timely—"
"Well, both of you could spend the Easter Holidays in my house. Mum wouldn't mind," retorted Ron. "We can play Quidditch together and relax at my place. I could do with some fun with all our work piling. Besides, Hermione's not gonna let you have fun—"
He folded his arms before his chest. "Both of you are my best friends. Isn't it a bit unfair to deny Hermione the pleasure of inviting her friends over to stay at her house?" He took a deep breath. "Will you go if she had invited you?"
"I-I…"
"—will not. It's a strange new place for you," retorted Harry calmly, understanding his friend's fears. Unlike his father, he shared an aversion for non-magical things because it was too foreign. "Look, it's only a week and Hermione's really looking forward to it." He tried appealing to his friend's sense of compassion. "With rumours about us spreading so rapidly, I'll think she really needs that break from the magical world in general."
Ron stared at his hands, thinking deeply.
It was a good sign because it meant that he was starting to cool down.
Finally, he lifted his head to meet Harry's gaze. He rubbed the back of his neck as if he was uncomfortable. "Are you and Hermione together?"
Harry froze. A brief image of her kissing him chastely on his lips flashed through his mind, causing his cheeks to burn with embarrassment. He shook his head.
Thankfully, his friend interpreted his reaction as a vehement objection to the idea of him seeing Hermione. He exhaled the breath he was holding.
Ron relaxed visibly. His attention drifted to the knot on the wooden table. "My absence seems to bring both of you together. Krum seemed to think so too." He made a face at the mention of the Durmstrang Champion. "I really thought that you didn't want to hang out with me anymore. I mean you're more interested in spending time with Hermione—"
"Wait, that's rubbish. Hermione needs the help. Between homework, preparing for the third task and the research, I have little time to do anything else. We could always use your help if you want to spend more time with us," offered Harry.
Ron grimaced at the thought. "No thank you. Just no more secrets."
Harry gave him an arched look. "Do you want a detailed report of what we do together? Well, I woke up at dawn to meet Hermione at the bottom of the stairs. Next, we went to the library. Then, we had breakfast. We'll be going to…"
Ron growled impatiently.
He broke into a smile when he saw the laughter in Harry's eyes. Harry was merely pulling his leg.
Harry returned the smile, glad that everything was okay between them. "It's not too late to ask Hermione for an invitation," joked Harry, rising to his feet. It earned him a punch on his arm. Magically, the plates disappeared when they rose from their seats.
The crowd in the hall was thinning since the first class was commencing soon. The table were cleared. He admired the efficiency of the house elves. Indeed, they were so proficient in maintaining the castle that he was quite sure that Hogwarts would not be able to function without them.
Whistling a happy tune, he fell into step with Ron as they headed to their first class.
Time passed by swiftly and soon it was time for them to take the Hogwarts Express back to London for their Easter break. He sent Snuffles another basket of food before they left for the station, attaching a note to explain that he would be with the Grangers during the short break. With the disappearance of Mr Couch, they were taking more precautions. Ron agreed to use the school owl to ask his brother Percy about his boss.
They had a cabin to themselves since the Express was so empty. Hermione let Crookshanks out of his carrier and he decided to spend his time patrolling along the corridors of the train. Hermione handed Harry a dusty tome for light reading during the trip. She took out another slim tome from her bag and set it next to her.
The tome was carefully marked indicating the spells she thought he had to learn. "As Ron said, this trip wasn't supposed to be fun," teased Hermione, reclining in her seat. Carefully, she folded her legs under her.
Harry frowned, tipping his spectacles. "Ron isn't here."
Hermione grinned impishly. "That's all the studying you'll be doing. My parents wouldn't let us study when we're there."
He arched a brow enquiringly.
"They think I need a break. We could spend our afternoons out in the gardens we share with our neighbour. It should be quite beautiful. My parents have green thumbs."
"Neighbour? Do you spend a lot of time with them?"
She shook her head. "They disappeared when I was very young but they did not sell the house. My parents take care of their gardens too. According to Mum, we used to be very close to that neighbour." She grew contemplative, looking out of the window at the zooming idyllic landscape of rolling hills.
Concerned, Harry took his book and plopped himself next to her.
She cocked one of her brows questioningly.
"Are you alright?"said Harry finally.
She nodded her head. "I'm just glad that you agreed to spend the Easter break with me. You're the first friend I invite to my house."
He understood the significance. He placed his hand on her arm gently. "Thank you."
She adjusted her position so that she could face him properly.
"I would have invited you earlier if I knew that you were open to it. You were always so fascinated with the magical world—you didn't seem to like the non-magical one."
Harry looked away. "Well, I don't have many good memories in the non-magical one. Hogwarts was my first real home," admitted he, raking his hand through his hair. It was becoming easier for him to share his past with her.
Hermione squeezed his hand affectionately. "You're my first friend." The implied meaning was clear—she did not enjoy her childhood. "Let's create some good memories for ourselves."
Tenderness for her stirred deeply in him but all he could manage was a smile.
Hermione returned a gentle smile.
His heart thumped wildly at the sight of it. He cleared his voice, rubbing the back of his neck. "So no studying? Really?"
Hermione snorted. "You prat." She folded her arms in faux-annoyance causing him to chortle loudly. It was so easy to forget all his troubles and just enjoy the moment with her. Then, he realised that this was the purpose of the vacation—it was to live in that moment.
The corners of her lips lifted in a small smile as if she understood that feeling.
The two best friends lapsed into companionable silence, burying themselves in their books. None of them noticed that they were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, comfortable with the physical intimacy.
Hermione and Harry faced no trouble throughout the journey.
Crookshanks bolted through the barrier into the Non-magical world first, leaving his mistress and her friend to trail after him. Hermione sighed, knowing that her pet was anxious to meet her parents because they spoilt him terribly. She could not deny the rising excitement at the idea of seeing her parents again. Hermione spotted her parents immediately after she stepped out of the barrier. They grinned and waved excitedly at her.
Her parents did not change in her absence. Her father was a cheery middle-aged standing at average height. Greys tinged the sides of his russet-shade hair, giving him a distinguished look. Faint traces of wrinkles were around his eyes and cheeks—evidence that he spent most of his time smiling. Dr Daniel Granger was also a very patient person because Hermione could not remember a time when he lost his patience.
She picked up speed, bolting into her father's open arms. He picked her up easily, twirling her around as if she was a little girl.
"Daddy!" admonished Hermione, her cheek pink. She loved her dad but he could be too playful. He set her down on the floor, grinning mischievously at his daughter. Beside him, her mother was smiling in amusement, knowing that her husband had done that just to stir a reaction from their only daughter.
Hermione ran her hands down her clothes, straightening them. She was embarrassed that her father could be so open with his affection for her in public. She was already fifteen!
The crowd that was swirling around them ignored their antics.
"I guess my new exercising regime is working out for me," retorted Dan, grinning from ear to ear.
"Are you saying that I have gained weight, Daddy?" replied Hermione, her arms in akimbo.
His eyes twinkled. "You'll always be my precious princess."
Hermione snorted, turning to greet her mother. Her mother, the pillar of her strength, drew her into a tender embrace. Dr Emma Granger was one of those blessed ladies who aged gracefully—her flaxen hair was slickly swept back into a bun, emphasising her petite features and porcelain- fair skin. Hermione had always hoped that she would look like her mother when she grew older.
"Where is your friend, honey?" questioned Emma, scanning the bustling crowd. She noticed that she was only carrying Crookshanks's carrier. She spotted a young teenager in tattered clothes standing a short distance away from them. He was in awe, watching them closely. Two satchels were slung over his shoulder.
Emma's eyes went wide.
"Mummy?" questioned Hermione when she spotted her mother gape at the sight of her best friend. Curious, her father followed the direction of her gaze. He froze, unable to believe his eyes.
To Hermione's astonishment, tears swam in her mother's eyes. "Lily's son…" Her hands trembled.
Hermione gaped. She had never seen her mother reacting this way.
Uncertainly, Emma closed the gap between her and Harry. "You're Lily's son, aren't you?" Tears gushed down her cheeks.
Lily? Harry's eyes widened. Did Hermione's parents know his parents? How? Why? He shot a stare at Hermione and found her staring speechlessly back at him.
Emma held him by his shoulders, examining his features carefully. "You look exactly like Jamie but you have Lily's eyes. You must be their son," whispered Emma achingly.
Harry grew confused. He tried to shrug her hands off him. "Uh…"
"Em,"spoke Daniel, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder. She released him immediately after meeting his stare. Sighing, she backed away to put a distance between Harry and her. Gingerly, she cleaned the tears from her eyes.
There was a mixture of adoration, regret, and longing when she looked at Harry.
Harry swallowed visibly.
"I'm sorry. Emma might have mistaken you for one of our close friends' son," clarified Daniel. He offered a sincere smile. "I'm Daniel Granger, Hermione's dad. This is my wife, Emma." He extended his hand towards him.
Harry glanced imperceptibly at Emma. She seemed unconvinced that she had made a mistake.
Harry jolted when he felt Hermione lacing her fingers with his. Noticing it was she, he relaxed visibly. Her warmth touch comforted him. He raked his hand through his hair. He wasn't too sure how to deal with her mother. She nudged him again, glancing at her father's hand.
"Uh. I'm Harry, Harry Potter." He took his hand and shook it. "Nice to meet you, Dr Granger—"
"—There are two Dr Granger in the house. I would prefer if you call me Dan," replied Dan, smiling. "My princess has spoken a lot about you." He agreed with his daughter's observation that his family probably had abused him. Emma seemed to arrive at the same conclusion because she began to tear again. He squeezed her hand comfortingly, hoping that she would not scare the poor boy off. He could tell that Harry was unnerved by Emma's open fondness.
While he did look like the younger version of his friend, he remained sceptical that Hermione's friend was the one.
Harry nodded, turning to look at Emma. "Do you know my parents?"
Dan intervened. "We aren't too sure if our friends are really your parents. They have disappeared for a long time. Let's talk when we get into the car." He led his wife towards a modest black Mercedes. It was parked a short distance outside of the station.
Harry managed a small smile when he saw the anxiety in Hermione's eyes. Like he, she was in the dark. He squeezed her hand reassuringly. She smiled encouraging at him. Gently, she led him towards the car while Crookshanks trotted next to them.
Numbly, he held the door open for both Hermione and Crookshanks before entering into the vehicle. After getting comfortable, Dan began the drive back.
Hermione was deep in her thoughts, trying to unravel the new mystery. Her parents' friends were of their age; therefore, their children should be older. Her mother had conceived her when she was mid-thirties. "I didn't know you had a close friend who had a child around my age."
"You were probably too young to remember, honey. The family disappeared when you were about two," replied Emma, glancing at the rear mirror to see Harry's expression. He was stoic but he was hanging on to every word.
Hermione mentally calculated. "1981?"
"Early October, 1981. It was the last time I saw Lily, her husband Jamie and their child, Harry," replied Emma. "They were a very young couple and they were very in love. They knew that you were magical—"
Harry grew interested at the disclosure. Sirius had told him that his parents hid in their family home at the start of October of that year.
"Didn't you say that there weren't any magicals in our neighbourhood?" demanded Hermione, lurching forward in surprise. Plenty of things were starting to make sense to her. Her parents' knowledge of the magical world had gnawed at her after she interacted with other muggleborns—non-magical parents were usually left in the dark. For instance, her parents were not surprised when Professor McGonagall had turned up at their door with her Hogwarts's letter.
"There weren't any Magicals when you were growing up because they were the only magical family. That was the reason why our fences are so high. Jamie used to let his son ride on a toy broom. You would wail if he tried to put you on it. I think you once turned his hair blue."
She shot a glance at Harry. He seemed to be emotionless.
"Why didn't you tell me that you know his parents when I wrote to you about him?" questioned Hermione, folding her arms.
She sounded almost accusing, a tone that she had never taken up with her loving parents.
"Harry's such a common name, princess. His Highness shares the same name. Our neighbour's last name was Evans," replied Dan patiently.
Harry's eyes widened dramatically. "Do you have a photograph of them? Evans was my mother's last name." If they had gone into hiding in a non-magical world, they might have changed their last names.
Emma nodded, an eager smile on her face. "I do. We have several of them in the attic. We have a way to prove if you were really their son."
"You do?" demanded Harry hopefully, grabbing the armrest. Optimism gleamed in his eyes—something Hermione rarely saw in her friend. Her friend usually had his hopes dashed. He was overjoyed when Sirius had promised to give him a home when he cleared his name. Unfortunately, his hope was dashed when they could not capture Pettigrew to clear his name. In fact, they also had to race against time to save Sirius from an unjust execution.
"Yes," affirmed Dan, meeting his gaze through the rear mirror. He looked almost worried.
Hermione shared that same anxiety. She leaned into her seat, wishing that Harry were indeed their neighbour's son. It would crush him if he wasn't. She glanced at her mother and realised that she would be upset too. Her father flashed a weak but encouraging smile.
She nodded in response.
Neither of them noticed the quiet conversation between the father and daughter.
"Do you know if your neighbours had friends?" asked Harry, considering that if they were really his parents, they would have met Sirius, Remus or Pettigrew.
Emma grew thoughtful, rubbing her chin. "They were usually alone. Sometimes, there would be a huge black dog playing with both of you in the backyard. They took Hermione in during the day while we were busy with our practice. Thankfully, the dog was very good with both of you. They don't keep pets but I figured that they must be one of those parents who believed that it was good to expose their children to animals so they probably offered to take the dog in too."
Harry and Hermione exchanged a look between themselves. It seemed highly likely that Emma was correct.
Emma spent the rest of the journey recollecting about the Evans. The two families met when the Evans moved in. Since they had children around the same age, they realised that they could click with each other very well. When baby Hermione displayed her first sign of accidental magic, Lily sat a stunned Emma down to tell her that Hermione was actually magical. Emma admitted that it was how she learnt about the alternate world. The two families bonded even closer after that.
The teenagers grew increasingly convinced that the Evans might really be Harry's parents.
It seemed almost incredulous to Harry that their families might have been close in the past. It was too coincidental to be true.
Hermione pointed out the abandoned house when they turned into the lane that led to their house. There were only two houses in their lane. He pressed his face close to the window, staring eagerly at where she had pointed. The fences around the two houses were so high that he could barely see them.
"We'll look at it later," added Hermione when they drove past an automatic gate and entered into a spacious and bright garage that housed two vehicles.
The butterflies in his stomach increased. The doors of the garage closed behind them and the overhead lights came on immediately.
The spacious garage looked well organised with the tools all lined carefully on the wall. Their car was parked next to a banana-yellow MINI cooper.
"Welcome to our home, Harry," said Daniel, with a smile. He turned the engine off before stepping out of the car.
Unable to resist the suspense any longer, Emma bolted out of the car and headed up the small flight of steps next to the workbench. Harry climbed out of the car, scanning the place curiously. According to Emma, he must have spent some time in this beautiful house when he was a baby.
Harry turned to look at Hermione when she slipped her hand into his. He allowed her to guide him out of the garage towards a homely living room. Stacks of books of different genre, shapes and sizes were found on almost every surface in the living room—the coffee table and the side tables—in the odd form of shaky, unordered and colourful towers. Unlike the Durselys' house, it looked lived in. A large television sat in the middle of the room before a couch.
Crookshanks immediately bolted out of the living room and headed upstairs.
He grew nervous. How was he expected to behave? Aunt Petunia was obsessive about cleanness and order. Anxiously, he checked his shoes—they looked clean. He felt a light squeeze on his arm.
"You can put them on the couch," directed Hermione. "As you can see, we're not too uptight about cleaning. Mum and Dad hire a cleaning crew weekly to maintain the place."
He placed their satchels on that couch. Curious, he scanned the living room. A large trophy cabinet stood next to the television, displaying a mixture of trophies and medals. A beautiful black grand piano, elevated by a platform, sat next to the large French windows. It took a large portion of the room. Stacks of scores piled near the standing metronome.
His eyes drifted to the plain wall leading towards the foyer. Tension fled from him when he spotted the photographs. He crossed the room quickly, captivated by the idea of seeing glimpses of Hermione's past. Hermione grew up before his very eyes. There were pictures of Hermione in every stage of her life. He smiled at the sight of her posing with her trophies. Gently, he touched the one that showed Hermione posing in her school robes.
It reminded of the first time he had met her. She was so enthusiastic about helping Neville find his missing toad in the Express. He remembered wondering about this incredibly bright, brave, and kind girl.
"That was the first time I wore the school robes," answered Hermione, looking at the pictures with him. "My parents sat me down to explain to me why I was different from other children when I was six."
He looked at her curiously.
Hermione smiled. "Apparently, I turned someone's hair red when I became upset that he or she didn't follow the rules."
Harry burst out laughing. It sounded exactly what his friend would do before she met him and Ron. She smiled back at him, glad that he looked more relaxed.
"Did you have any incidents of accidental magic?"
Rapid footsteps echoing from the stairs reminded Harry once again of the possible connection of the Grangers to his family. He stiffened when he saw Emma entering the living room with a small wooden chest. It looked like a chest that wizards would use to keep important documents or jewellery.
"Dan is searching for the photos. Lily left me this. There's no better way of verifying your identity, "offered Emma quietly. Hope shone brightly in her eyes.
His heartbeat sped up.
The chest bore the crest of a powerful Griffin standing under two crossed swords, with its wings spread open as if it was about to take off. A blossoming rose was carved in the middle of the crossed blades. A banner with the words 'Ut Sacerdos Dignus Fiat' ran under that emblem.
She placed the chest in both of his hands reverently.
Gently, he fingered the crest. His magic seemed to respond to the chest. He arched a brow when he found no keyhole. How was he going to open it? His magic immediately responded: he blinked when he was compiled to whisper, "To be worthy."
The small chest glowed blue. A 'click' sound echoed in the room.
With shaky hands, he lifted the lid, revealing a key, a letter, and several rings. The emblem was engraved within the chest but it bore the words 'The Noble House of Potter' under the family motto.
His heart stopped.
Hermione covered her mouth in shock.
Emma burst into tears immediately. "You're really Harry. You're really Harry." She threw her arms around him, embracing the stunned teenager. "Dan! It's really him! It's really Harry! It's really Lily and Jamie's child!"
Daniel bolted down the stairs. He was stunned by the change of events. He barely believed his wife. They had finally found the son of their neighbours. Moved, he joined the embrace, with tears in his eyes. They had finally found the child.
Hermione could only gape at the sudden revelation. Harry and she were childhood friends? It was almost unbelievable.
The older Grangers drew away from Harry after hugging him. All three of them needed it after that realisation. Dan and Emma had realised that his relatives had abused him since he was a child. Their hearts broke for him.
They shared a glance. They could do something for him.
Dan hurried upstairs, taking two steps at a time.
Emma guided him to take a seat. He was simply dumfounded. Automatically, Hermione sat on the other side, her hand on his lap.
He conjured a faint smile of appreciation despite feeling confused.
"Harry, I'm sorry," admitted Emma, looking sorrowful. "Your family disappeared a day after your mummy gave me that chest. She had us sign some documents so that we would become your legal guardian should anything happen to them." She stared at her hands despondently. "We knew that something must have happened to them when they did not return."
Harry looked flabbergasted.
Dan soon returned with a sealed document and an album. He took a seat next to his wife and broke the seal. "This is our copy." He withdrew it from inside. "They must have magically changed it after we signed it."
The legal document established the Grangers as the legal guardians of Harry James Potter.
With trembling hands, Harry took the document and examined it. It seemed authentic. He carefully fingered the signatures of his parents.
"Why didn't they send Harry to us then?" Hermione demanded as her eyes fell on the document. She leapt to her feet, pacing back and forth. "It doesn't make sense. Harry was deposited in his relatives' place." If the Potters had made her parents the guardians of Harry, then they would have included it into their will. It naturally led to the next question: Was their will even executed in the first place.
"Hagrid said that he took me to my relatives on Dumbledore's orders. He denied Sirius the chance to take me away." Turning to face the Grangers, he explained. "Sirius is my godfather."
Both adults looked confused. Wasn't Dumbledore merely a headmaster? Why did he have such prerogative to defy the law and see to the custody of an orphan? Lily and Jamie had told them that it was a magical bank, which carried out the execution of will and the matters of custody, not a school.
Dan grasped his shoulders gently. "We'll get to the bottom of this soon, but take a look at this." He handed Harry the photograph album. The pages were yellow from age. "We don't have many pictures of your parents but we have quite a few of you and Hermione."
Gingerly, Harry flipped through the album. Photographs of his parents and the Grangers staring at him convinced him that it was not a fantasy. Tears welled in his eye as he touched the faces of his parents. They were happy. His eyes drifted to a photograph of both he and Hermione sharing a bath when they were a baby.
He glanced at Hermione, his cheeks red.
She seemed almost stunned to see that photograph.
"Both of you were quite inseparable," answered Emma, looking at the photograph tenderly.
"W-we're actually childhood friends," concluded Hermione. "I-I've never considered that it might be you." She was simply bewildered that she was unaware of it. The books that she had read about the end of the war did not include photographs of the Potters, just a moving photograph of the razed family house.
Emma pointed a photograph of Lily cradling Hermione tenderly. "Lily loved you." She smiled forlornly at the sight. "We didn't know that they were…"
Dan wrapped his arms around his wife. She turned into his embrace.
Harry understood that they were grieving for his parents. His presence had confirmed their suspicion that they were no longer around.
He drew his hand through his hand, uncertain of what he could say.
Hermione looked too preoccupied with her thoughts to notice.
"Gringotts. We need to make a trip to Gringotts. They should have a copy of their will," concluded Hermione briskly, staring at the photograph of their families. "We need to find out why Harry was placed with his relatives."
Harry glanced at his friend, confused.
"You don't have to live with them anymore!" Hermione embraced him with the force of a freight train, the album squashed between their bodies.
Noticing that Harry had suddenly stiffened in her embrace, she drew away from him.
He looked nervous, rubbing the back of his neck. He lifted his head to look at Emma and Dan. "Will I be imposing on…?"
"Don't be silly, Harry. If you don't mind, you can move in with us. It is your choice." She dabbed the tears away from her face with a tissue. "We will love to have you here."
He glanced at Hermione anxiously. The short stay over the holidays had now seemed to become a permanent living arrangement. She seemed to share that same apprehension instead, she was waiting for his answer.
He looked away from his friend as he contemplated his choices. This was his chance. It was his chance to move away from the Dursleys. He was so willing to leave the Dursleys to live with Sirius despite knowing him for a few hours then. It was easier with Hermione around. It helped that the Grangers warmly welcomed him too.
Dan placed his hand on his shoulder. "You don't need to give us an answer right now. We will deal with your living arrangements after we settle the legal issues. However, we'll have to wait till tomorrow."
"Why tomorrow?"
"We have an important dinner to attend later," replied Emma. She glanced at her watch. "We need to take both of you shopping." Her eyes sparkled with excitement.
Harry stared at her incredulously. "I-I don't have any money."
Emma did not seem disheartened. "You don't have to worry about it Harry. We're a family."
Dan wrapped an arm around Emma, looking at Harry tenderly. He inclined his head, affirming his wife's words.
A family?
His vision blurred at her declaration. It was almost shocking to learn that he actually had a family who cared for him, besides his godfather. It was not difficult to doubt the sincerity of their words. He lived most of his life believing that no one cared for him. Now, he actually had guardians that truly wanted him.
He glanced at Hermione, wondering how it would alter their friendship.
Hermione squeezed his hand in assurance. It was a silent promise that it would not change who they were to each other. The realisation would only deepen the relationship between them.
"Why don't you show him his room? Let's meet in the garage after cleaning up," suggested Dan, watching the teenagers closely. He shared a knowing look with his wife. Emma nodded imperceptibly.
Harry picked up both of their satchels while Hermione embraced her mother. It saddened him to see Emma so upset about the demise of his parents.
Quietly, she led him upstairs. "My parents will be fine. They had their suspicions for a while," assured Hermione.
He took in the sight of the second level of the house. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, lighting the place up. He felt almost at ease in here. There were more bookshelves upstairs and several large armchairs to sit in. He spotted another flight of winding stairs. Hermione told him that it led to the attic. "Used to pretend it would take me into another world," revealed Hermione.
A small smile appeared on his face.
There were four rooms. Hermione stopped before him, observing him keenly as if she wanted to gauge if he was up for it. She immediately came to a decision and led him to her room, opposite of the master bedroom. It echoed the character of the occupant with its cool colours and practicality.
A bed covered with deep blue sheets sat in the middle of the room. Crookshanks was snoozing in a large basket on the opposite side of the room. A large window took the opposite wall, which was concaved to produce a comfortable alcove. The nook was lined with large turquoise cushions, creating the perfect spot for his best friend to curl up to read.
He smiled at the mental image of seeing her read in that nook.
Shelves lined the other side of the spacious and airy room, above her sturdy oak desk. Her unused textbooks and reading materials lined those durable shelves nicely. A powder-blue door led into a rather empty walk-in closet, while the other led into her washroom. Hermione complained at the sight of her empty closet.
"You'll understand soon," explained Hermione enigmatically. Ignoring Hermione's protest, he wandered curiously into her washroom. There were very little items lining the shelves in her toilet, emphasising on her lack of vanity.
Embarrassed, she absently tucked her stray fringe. "Mummy has been nagging at me to take better care of my skin." She took her satchel from him and placed it carefully on her empty desk.
"Do you need to?" questioned Harry, following his friend. It baffled him since Hermione had flawless complexion. Faint blush dusted her porcelain cheeks as she smiled. The sight of her looking so coy elicited a smile from him.
Quietly, she led him out of the room and past the study.
"Hedwig should be still here," mused Hermione, leading him to the room next to the stairs to the attic. It was a plain room in sandy-brown, with its own walk-in closet and bathroom. A bed in neutral tones was near the door. His owl was perching on a stand next to the window, enjoying the sun.
The windows were open, allowing her free access into the house. He had never seen Hedwig so contented.
"Daddy found the old perch. He used to keep a cockatoo for a pet." He placed his sachet and the small chest on the desk, crossing the room to his pet. She cracked an eye before nipping his finger affectionately.
"Hello Hedwig, enjoying the view?" He peered out of the window inquisitively. The window displayed a beautiful view of the gardens. He noticed that there wasn't a fence between the two houses. Several well-maintained bushes served as an informal marker between the two houses. He swallowed visibly at the sight of the red-bricked three-storey house. The thought that his parents had once lived there drowned him with a sense of longing.
"I know it's a lot to take."
He spun on his heels to face Hermione. He could the see the emotional turmoil in her eyes. Was she hurting for him? Moved, he extended his arms towards her, allowing her to find solace in his arms. "It might be more difficult for you," replied Harry, his voice thick with emotions. Her faint vanilla scent soothed him.
She shifted in his arms, as if his breath tickled her.
If the papers were legitimate, they would live with each other. He was disconcerted with all the changes but he was certain that he would overcome it with his best friend by his side.
She relaxed considerably as if she was drawing strength from him too.
They drew away from each other after a while.
"It'll be no different from being in school," replied Hermione, tucking her fringe behind her ear. "My parents adore you. You are safe here, away from the dangers of your relatives and school. Well, that's more important to me," admitted Hermione candidly, looking away.
A look oddly tender appeared on his face—it was mixture of awe and deep affections. He couldn't imagine how selfless Hermione could be.
They locked gazes when she noticed that he did not respond.
Spellbound by the depth of his awe for her, Hermione was lost in his eyes. It felt as if he was finally seeing her for who she was and he was astounded by that realisation.
Her heart turned violently inside her chest. Compelled, she inched closer to him.
Unconsciously, he mirrored her. Her brown eyes weren't entirely brown, thought Harry. He wasn't sure if it was the trick of the light but he could see faint specks of gold dancing in her eyes. Hermione wasn't ugly. She was…
"Kids, we need to leave soon!" It was Emma.
The spell broke immediately. Harry sheepishly scratched the back of his head, wondering about the furious racing of his heart. He turned away, his cheeks flushed.
She made a face. "We'll be there soon, Mum," yelled Hermione.
The look of disgust on her face made him smile. He could tell that she didn't like shopping.
Hermione rolled her eyes when she saw that smirk on his face. "There is a reason why the rooms have large walk-in closets," explained Hermione as she walked out of his room.
"Is it something I should worry about?" He had never shop for clothes since all of his clothes were hand-me-downs from his cousin.
Hermione had an impish smile when she took stock of his clothes openly. He rubbed the back of his neck, conscious of the way she was staring at him. He felt less nervous when she did not comment on his attire—he knew it gave him a scruffy look, 'bad-apple look'—she was nonchalant about it.
"You'll find out soon enough."
He lifted a brow. Judging from the reaction of his friend, he felt that he should start worrying. Like a real Gryffindor, he trudged on, following Hermione's lead back to the garage.
Hours later, he was simply traumatised by the whole experience of shopping. He slumped into his seat, watching the cars passed them. Emma and Dan seemed eager to buy the entire boutique when they realised that he did not have proper clothes.
He was relieved when they did not make an issue of it.
They measured him in every way possible: around the neck, the length of his arm from his shoulder to his wrist bone, his waist, his hips, the length of his legs and his feet. He didn't remember that it took so much effort to buy his Hogwarts robes.
Dan and Emma, guided by two different sales personnel, separated to pick up different types of clothes. The other sales personnel, sensing that they were very willingly to spend, hastily offered their services to speed up the process.
Hermione could barely control her laughter when her father had participated in the whole mission. "Dad's usually the one restraining my mum," replied Hermione, holding a dress.
He made a face, knowing that Hermione enjoyed seeing her parents fuss over him.
Harry was shooed into a changing room to begin the long and arduous process of trying on clothes.
Bags and bags of clothes occupied the space between Hermione and him. He blushed at the thought of them buying him new underwear. He was astounded at the large display of underwear for men. He had no idea about what kind of material he preferred, besides the style. At the end, Dan decided to buy a few of different types and materials so that he could try.
Hermione, deep in thought, was sitting quietly next to him. She had been quiet since they returned to the car.
He glanced at his finely pressed Khaki bottoms. He left the store, dressed in new clothes that fit him. Emma wanted him to do so. "You're ours to care for now," reaffirmed Emma, looking pleased. "We could discard the others when we return home."
The casting away of his old clothes represented the discarding of his past—no longer was he a poor unwanted orphan, living off the scraps of his relatives. He was part of the Grangers. He was part of a family who wanted him.
He could barely control the tears that welled in his eyes. He had a family.
He noticed several other bags that did not belong to him. Hermione took those bags to her room when they finally reached home, leaving him puzzled. Hermione wasn't usually so secretive. They didn't keep secrets between them.
Together with Dan and Emma, he took all his clothes to his new room and began filling his empty closet with them.
Despite his busyness, he noticed that Hedwig was gone. Did she go out for a hunt?
Soon, he was left alone in his new room to change into the set of clothes that Emma had selected for him.
She had laid out a light purple dress shirt, a pair of grey trousers, a grey belt, and a pair of cufflinks on his bed. He was amazed at the sight of himself when he wore those clothes. He looked very smart. He could barely recognise his reflection. He smiled when he put on his new socks and a pair of white oxford-laced shoes.
It felt almost strange not to see any signs of tape holding his footwear together.
From his experience at the Yule Ball, he knew that it was useless to wrestle with his hair, so he left it as it was.
There was a knock on his door. "Harry?"
Dan entered his room, looking smooth in a bespoke maroon jacket and trousers, with a navy dress shirt. He held a small black box in his hand. "Are you alright? You look really nice," complimented Dan proudly. He perused his appearance carefully, scratching his recently shaved chin. "I think you need some accessories." He took the cufflinks from his bed and helped him to put them on.
Then, he handed the small black box to him. "Why don't you put this on while I find a tie to match your attire?"
Without waiting for a response, he walked into his walk-in closet, leaving the box in his hand.
Curious, Harry opened that box and found an expensive watch nestling in it. It had a large round dial face with roman numerals and a leather strap.
His relatives were never so generous with him. They did not even bother to pick up a cocktail suit for him when they were entertaining guests. Harry could barely believe that they were so generous with him.
"Are you alright?" asked Dan when he returned with a slim silver tie. He eyed him with worry.
Harry nodded, taking that tie from him. Quickly, Harry wore that tie. He was glad that he didn't have any problem tying a tie.
"You look good. Don't worry, it takes a while to learn how to dress for a formal occasion. You'll learn soon enough," encouraged Dan, noticing his unease.
Harry nodded.
"Are you okay with this room?" asked Dan, looking around the bedroom. "We could pick a day to refurbish this room and make it yours."
"I-it is nice the way it is. I've never decorated a room before," admitted Harry, looking around. He couldn't imagine having such a large space to himself.
If Dan was surprised, he made no show of it. Dan laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's yours now. Don't worry. There is always a first for everything. I'll be more than happy to help you with it." He gave him a wink.
Harry was surprised that Dan would want to do things with him. "Will you like to?"
Dan smiled. "I'll be glad to. It can be our little project."
Harry smiled gratefully, conscious of the surge of warmth at the thought that Dan wanted to spend some time with him.
Dan checked his watch. "Let's head to the garage first. The ladies will take more time. I'm sure Emma is probably with Hermione, making sure that she is dressed appropriately. Unfortunately, my princess has inherited that trait of being very indifferent about dressing up."
Harry chortled. "She could if she set her mind to it. She looked really pretty when she dressed up for Yule Ball." It was the first time he took notice of her. He remembered the robes made of floaty, periwinkle-blue material.
"Really? Do you have any photographs with her?"
Harry shook his head regretfully. Dan looked almost dejected that he had missed that experience of seeing his daughter dolled up for a formal event at school.
Following Dan, he headed downstairs. Dan took the opportunity to get to know him better. He realised that Harry had never gone for a health check-up or seen an optician. He was amazed when Harry shared that he had never gone to any of the mandatory school checks in the past too.
"It's going to be a busy day tomorrow," replied Dan, making a mental note to arrange those visits for him soon.
Harry sounded hesitant. He didn't like the idea of going for a health check-up but Dan seemed to be determine to see to his well-being. Would they still want him to live with them when they learn of his past? Would they still want him when they realised that taking him in was dangerous? His mind drifted to the threat that had hung over him through the semester.
"Em told me that the key in the chest looks like a key to your parents' house," quipped Dan.
"Do you think I could visit the house later?" questioned Harry, excited that he might have access to that place.
"Sure. We are not planning to stay too long. Do you want Emma and me to accompany you?"
He shook his head. "Hermione and I will be fine." He knew that Hermione would never allow him to go alone.
Dan nodded, squeezing his shoulder. Quietly, they sat in the car and waited for the ladies to arrive. They were unaware of the conversation that occurred upstairs while Emma was helping Hermione to dress up for dinner.
"I really love your father but this is a trait I wish you didn't inherit from him," teased Emma when she spotted the sullen expression on Hermione's face as she did her hair into an elegant chignon with expert hands.
Emma was already dressed for dinner, in a simple blue dress that accentuated her mature femininity.
While her parents were helping Harry to unpack his clothes, she had applied the potion on her hair so that she would be ready for dinner later. The rest of her hair fell around her face in sleek and shiny curls. Hermione had to admit that her hair looked better that way. Her mother had a technique to make her beautiful.
The smile on her mother's face faded away. "You look so grown up."
Hermione turned around, taking the brush from her hand and placing it carefully on her dresser. She grasped her mother's hand tenderly. "That's what you always say when I return home. I'm still your daughter, Mum," teased Hermione, smiling sweetly.
"I've seen the way you look at Harry," began Emma carefully. The smile on Hermione's face froze. She squeezed her daughter's hand in reassurance, glad that she did not break the eye contact. "Harry is going to stay with us in the future, are you worried about it?"
"No! I'm happy for him. I'm happy that he's living with us. He is my best friend…"
"But you feel more for him," pointed Emma out. She lowered herself to a seat next to Hermione so that she was at her eye level.
Hermione bit her lips, wondering how she could translate her raging storm into words. Hermione stared at their joined hands. "Yes, I do, mummy," admitted Hermione quietly. Her mother would have spotted it since she knew her so well. "I don't expect him to reciprocate those feelings yet. He has so much to worry about." A frown ceased her brows.
She didn't want to reveal the burdens that her best friend was shouldering.
Emma patted her hand tenderly. "It's a good start—"
Her head shot up. "You don't understand, Mummy." She turned to stare distantly over her mother's shoulder. How could she understand the depth of her affections for him? They had gone through thick and thin together.
Her mother took both of her hands carefully, catching her attention. She had an encouraging smile on her face.
"I feel so much for him, "whispered Hermione, lowering her head, "T-that it scares me." Her hands clenched into fists.
Emma pursed her lips in thought. "I'm not surprised." Her daughter had always been mature for her age—it was not hard for her to imagine that she would develop such profound friendship at her age.
Hermione whipped her head in shock.
"You spent all your time with him in school," replied Emma. "It is easy to develop such profound affections for another person if you've spent some much time with him." Emma smiled at the obvious surprise in her daughter's face.
Hermione looked dumbfounded. She opened her mouth as if to say something else but she refrained from continuing. She had hidden most of her experiences of schooling from her parents since she was afraid that they would react badly to it. She was relieved that her mother had attributed it to the long hours they had spent with each other.
Emma lifted a brow—she knew that reaction too well. Hermione had developed a habit of keeping secrets from her since she began schooling at Hogwarts. She trusted that her daughter had a good reason to do so and that she was safe in the school.
Perhaps with the inclusion of Harry into their family, they would understand the enigmatic Magical world better.
"You don't have to be afraid of how you feel for Harry. You know you could always talk to me about it. I'm always in your corner." Tenderly, she stroked Hermione's cheek.
Hermione smiled. "I'll keep you updated about Harry and me."
Dan sent Harry to fetch the ladies when it was getting late. He was about to march upstairs when he caught sight of Hermione and Emma.
The vision of Hermione floored him. It was the graceful way she was carrying herself as she glided down the stairs that astounded him.
She was more than just not ugly. His best friend was lovely.
He swallowed visibly.
It was Yule Ball again. He was waiting for Hermione, his date, impatiently at the entrance of the common room. It felt right to take Hermione to the ball as his date.
His best friend was breath-taking in a blood-red dress. The loud colour enhanced her flawless fair skin, unmarred by the sun. It was refreshing to see her in such a loud colour. The V-neckline of the dress revealed a hint of her feminine curves. It was tantalising due to the fact it revealed nothing, yet at the same time, worshipping her femininity in the way her heavy Hogwarts robes could not.
Unconsciously, he reached for his collar and loosened it slightly.
She wore a little make-up to accentuate her defined cheekbones and petite nose. Did she always look this lovely? His eyes drifted to her eyes. He noted an emotion he could not identify in them. Soon, a faint twinkle of amusement replaced that emotion.
"You look really nice, Harry," said Hermione admiringly, scanning his appearance.
He rubbed the back of his head, unsure if he should return her compliments.
Hermione chuckled brightly when she noticed that his tie was crooked. Harry would always remain so indifferent to his appearance. Without hesitation, she closed the distance between them and adjusted his tie.
"A thin silver tie," murmured Hermione, glancing furtively at him through her eyelashes. "It's a wonderful choice."
Watching her straightened his tie with great sobriety tease a smile out of him. Harry was used to her obsessive and domineering behaviour when it came to his attire—she could not stand a crooked tie or a shirt not tucked in.
"You look really nice tonight," admitted Harry quietly, staring raptly at her.
They locked gazes. She could not tear her eyes away from his sincere and intense gaze. Her cheeks pinked and her fingers grew shaky. It took her longer to correct his tie. "Umm…T-thanks," stuttered Hermione hastily, withdrawing her trembling hands from him.
She stared at her hands, as if uncomfortable to make eye contact with him.
Harry drew his hand through his hair, wondering if he had made a faux pas.
Emma chortled brightly, distracting the teenagers.
"M-mrs Granger—"
"Emma, please," interrupted Emma. "She does look lovely in red, doesn't she?" suggested Emma teasingly, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulders. She seemed to calm down with her mother's touch but she refused to look at him.
Harry nodded his head, pinking slightly. "Hermione looks wonderful in blue too." He turned away, his cheeks flushed.
"W-why, t-thanks, Harry," replied Hermione coyly, staring at her hands. She could only thank him instead of correcting his mistake—it was periwinkle-blue, rather than just merely blue. She was impressed that he had remembered and delighted that he found her beautiful.
She missed the slight flush on his cheeks and the amazement on his face.
It floored Harry how easy it was to make his best friend so happy.
His mind drifted to the ways he saw his older male schoolmates charm their female partners at the Yule Ball. His female classmates were usually delighted with their gallant behaviour. The Yule Ball enlightened him on the behaviour that females had generally expected their date to behave towards them. Considering that they were dressed to the nines for this dinner, he realised that he could apply what he had learnt on his best friend.
His faith in Hermione that she will not tease him should he failed at it encouraged him to sum up his courage: with a nervous smile, he offered his arm.
Hermione lifted a brow, astounded at his chivalrous gesture. He had been her best friend for several years; she did not know that he could be so courteous.
"I learnt it from Yule Ball. No better time to apply it, "smiled Harry.
Hermione was charmed. Her heart fluttered at the sight of his boyish and disarming smile.
Hermione glanced around the room, afraid that her mother would tease her. She was surprised to find her mother missing. She smiled inwardly—her mother was creating an opportunity for them to enjoy each other's companionship.
She returned her gaze to Harry. It reminded her of the Yule Ball. She would have enjoyed herself immeasurably if he had asked her to be his date. His open admiration of her as she descended the stairs with her mother made her feel stunning. She had never paid much attention to her appearances simply because she did not want to but the capacity to make his head turn was so flattering that she wanted to dress a bit better for him in the future.
That was how the Yule Ball should have been—dressed in her finest so that she could captivate the boy whom she wanted to attract. Suddenly, all the effort she had put into her appearance was worth her time. Perhaps, this was her chance at salvaging that memory. She could pretend that Harry was really taking her to that ball.
With a contented smile on her face, she took his arm. Harry returned her smile, glad that she played along with him. He led her to the garage where the Grangers were waiting for them. She decided inwardly, when Harry opened the door for her, this dinner was proving to be better than the Yule Ball.
Harry paid no attention to his surroundings since he could not take his eyes off his best friend. He watched her from the peripheral of his sight while engaging in a light-hearted conversation with the three Grangers. The older Grangers were interested to know him better. Occasionally, Hermione would tease him openly or share an interesting anecdote from their time in Hogwarts.
Harry picked up an unwritten rule—Hermione kept their dangerous exploits in secret, attempting to portray Hogwarts as a simple and interesting magical school. He wondered if the Grangers knew of her petrification in her second year or her participation in saving his godfather from an unjust execution last year. He decided that her parents would not allow her to return to school should they know of the dangers she had faced. How would they react if they realised that he was a magnet for danger?
Harry was interrupted from his musing when the engine was turned off.
"We're here," announced Dan, opening the door.
Swiftly, Harry stepped out of the car to help Hermione with her door. It earned a grateful smile from her. Neither of the teenagers saw the smile that the Grangers shared with each other.
Night had already fallen.
"I'm glad that you'd learnt chivalry from the ball," commented Hermione. Once again, she took his arm.
"It's easier with you. I don't reckon I'll offer my arm to another girl since it means that I've to be close to her," answered Harry, shutting the door with his free hand. It was difficult to remember his darker musings when she was with him.
Her eyes gleamed with delight.
"Besides, I can't imagine learning deportment from books," continued Harry. "A feat you have accomplished," teased Harry lightly.
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "It wasn't as different as the non-magical world, therefore it was easy."
Harry chuckled. He was aware of the lack of anxiety—he should have felt nervous because of his inexperience. It was his complete faith in Hermione that soothed him. He knew that she would never let him embarrassed himself. Barely paying attention to his surroundings, he led her towards the only source of light—the opened door. He could hear polite chattering at the door—the Grangers had greeted their hosts.
She squeezed his arm. "Follow my lead during dinner if you're unsure of what to do. It's good that you pick things up quick…"Her jaw slackened in shock as she froze.
A collective sound of gasp accompanied Hermione's silence.
Curious, he lifted his head. He froze when he stared into the surprised faces of the Dursleys. They were standing by the door, speaking to the Grangers.
Instantly, mayhem broke out.
Uncle Vernon's face had turned red. "W-What are you doing here, freak!" He marched towards him, his large hands balled into fists.
Fear overwhelmed him.
It was not good. It was not good. It was not good. It was not good.
He was five again. His teacher had called his uncle when they found him on the roof of the school, hiding behind the chimney. He didn't understand how he ended up on the roof too—all he wanted was to run away from his classmates. His uncle was beyond furious.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut, and waited for the inevitable.
A/N: Thank you for reading. A comment from one of the reviewers was the inspiration for the foyer scene. I thought it was a good way of building up Harry's awareness of his friend. I was reading Robst's Banking on her when I realised that the premise sounded quite smiliar. Rest assured that it will be very different. I won't be updating frequently but I do hope you'll enjoy this chapter. Have a blessed day.