Chapter 2: Rebirth

I don't own harry Potter, and I make no money from the posting of this piece of creative activity.

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Miss Hermione Granger was spoiled.

She didn't admit it of course but a good portion of her life could be described as "What Hermione wants Hermione gets." For instance, when a bully stole her book in primary school, and refused to give it back when she demanded it, the bully somehow managed to gently toss her the book and then fall off of the swing set. That was the official story regardless of the fact that the incident occurred at the other end of the playground.

In fact an even better example of this predisposition towards self satisfaction can be seen in Hermione: The Hogwart's Years. Hermione wanted good grades, so she earned them. She wanted friends and so she got them, even if she had to lie and break the rules. She wanted to learn everything and convinced adults that not only was it a good idea, but it was also important to allow her to learn by any means necessary, even if that meant putting a highly restricted and possibly dangerous magical artifact in the hands of a thirteen year old girl. The examples continue through the years at Hogwarts and past. Fourth year she wanted to be seen as more than a gender neutral bookworm, so she got a date with one of the most eligible bachelors when she was just fourteen. In fifth year she objected so strongly to anyone disrupting her education that not only did she engineer a highly illegal, unsupervised club to help her learn out of class, but she removed the unsavory element from her school with no mercy.

Admittedly the sixth and seventh year of her magical schooling were hard for her. She didn't get exactly what she wanted and was in turns left in tears and heartbroken by betrayal and death. She didn't give up though, when any other spoiled princess would have fallen down in tears. She didn't give up because there was another driving force in Hermione Granger's life that was totally unacknowledged, but was just as, if not significantly more powerful than her desire to get her own way.

What is that part you ask?

It is the part of her that made her lie to a teacher about a troll, to defend a scared boy against the whole school, and brew restricted potions to help prove his innocence. It was what gave her the strength to tell an adult something when she knew it would drive a wedge between her and her friends. It was behind her willingness to abuse a restricted magical artifact, and to harbor a fugitive. It was the force behind her spending hours helping that same scared boy study spells needed to save his life and to once again separate herself from the rest of the school to defend him. It was the force behind her fear of a book and totally irrational behavior.

It was the reason she sent her own parent's to Australia and the reason she fought in a war and allowed herself to be in a situation where she could and was tortured. It was the reason she wanted her friend to move past the horror and sadness of the war and move on with his life,

Have you guessed it yet?

The other driving force in Hermione Granger's life is the simple fact that Mr. Harry Potter should always be as safe and happy as she could make him.

*~*~*

Hermione stared in shock at the chubby toddler sitting on the ground in front of her. Could this apple cheeked baby really be her skinny best friend?

"Harry?" Her throat was tight as she ran through the component parts of both headache potion and the draught of living death, nothing except penny flower complications could explain the strangeness in front of her.

The baby waved his arms and babbled at her happily not using any words that she understood.

"Harry? Do you understand me? Is that you?" The little boy bounced.

"Harry."

She got down on her knees next to the boy and smiled shakily, could her friend just be trapped in a little person's body?

"Harry do you remember what happened? Oh Merlin, I didn't know that you were this unhappy, why didn't you talk to me, we could have figured something out, there isn't a cure for draught of living death. You have to know that I would do anything for you." Her voice was filled with pain and an undertone of anger, why would her best friend do something so reckless?

Little Harry seemed to sense something different in her voice and his happy smile crumpled into a frown.

"Sad now?" Harry's little baby lip began to quiver as his green eyes filled with tears. He reached out his hand a gently touched her face. "No be sad."

That was when that portion of Hermione that was totally devoted to Harry Potter kicked in and whispered in her ear...

'Don't be sad, Harry doesn't want you to be sad.'

She smiled unconsciously at the cuteness in front of her. She inhaled a few times and tried not to scare the boy. "Hi there. Don't worry I'm not sad." The green eyes lit up and a smile like Hermione had never seen before spread across his face. It was amazing to see such joy in such a simple thing. "So little man what's your name?"

"Harry my boy." His chubby hands clapped together and he bounced a little, happy to know the answer to the nice lady's questions.

"Harry hmmm? Do you know your Mum or your Daddy?"

The little boy's brow furrowed, as he smiled, once again he knew the answer to her question. "uh huh," he nodded his head, "Mummy and Daddy."

Hermione had to stifle her irritation. Not at Harry, but at herself, what else would a toddler know his parents as?

"Do you have any uncles? or friends?"

Once again Harry bounced when he knew the answer. "My uncle Paddy and Moony. They funny." he face fell and a shiver ran down his little body, and he leaned in closer to her ear. "The meanies."

She looked at him and dreaded asking, "Who are the meanies Harry?"

He sat and pouted for a minute. He was getting bored of answering questions it was time to play with the nice lady. "The meanies are my aunt and uncle but they mean and I don't like 'em. Daddy says they bastards, but Mommy says that's a naughty word even if they are." He looked the lady in the eye once again. "Can we play now? The meanies never let me play like Daddy and Uncle Paddy. What's your name Lady? Will you play with me?"

That place inside of Hermione devoted to Harry started shouting and waving banners twelve feet tall that all read 'play with the baby.'

"Ok, little man we can play. What's your favorite game?"

"Hidey hole." The boy covered his eyes and started to count. "Don't forget to hide real good Lady, I'm a good searcher."

"Sure Harry my man I'll start looking." The delighted giggle and the sound of careful, non linear counting filled the room.

"One, two, five, thirty three, fifteen, twenty two."

The giggle was the final straw, the Harry part of Hermione Granger stormed the rational side and conquered all the opposition. Once again Hermione was going to do whatever it took to not only keep Harry Potter safe, but also happy.

Miss Hermione Granger was going to give Harry Potter the one thing he never experienced.

A childhood.