A/N: Thank you Modges for following! Two chapters tonight, woohoo! We'll be getting to Hogwarts in a chapter or two. The Australian wizards are my own creation, but everything else belongs to JKR. Please R&R, & enjoy! :)
Ten time zones and over 10,000 miles from Wiltshire, Hermione was facing her own inner turmoil. Her body was utterly exhausted – the trip had taken over 24 hours, and although she'd slept well at the hotel afterwards, she still hadn't fully adjusted to the time change – but her emotions had been flip-flopping uncontrollably ever since she'd arrived. After nearly a year, she was finally going to track down her parents – and she was terrified.
Immediately after the war, Hermione had contacted the Australian Ministry of Magic, asking for assistance in locating her parents. The Minister himself had responded, saying he'd be delighted to help in any way he could, even going so far as to offer to pay for the trip. Hermione had kindly but firmly declined that aspect of his offer, insisting that the mission was of a personal nature and would therefore be inappropriate for him to fund. The plane ticket had been incredibly expensive, but Hermione still had her strong sense of morality.
The first dawn of August found Hermione pacing nervously in front of the visitors' entrance to the Australian Ministry, trying to calm herself enough to enter the building. Unlike the British Ministry, its Australian counterpart was right in downtown Sydney, in a modern-looking office building. Hermione suspected the enchantments hiding it were similar to those of Grimmauld Place, as the passing Muggles didn't seem to see anything out of the ordinary. Finally, she summoned her courage, looked to make sure no Muggles were watching too closely, and stepped inside.
The reception area of the Australian Ministry was drastically different from the British one – the space was significantly smaller, with no outrageous statues and no fireplaces, the latter of which Hermione thought odd until she saw a small sign directing patrons to a separate Floo room on her right-hand side. The highly polished wooden floor was a soft, welcoming shade, and plush couches accompanied by coffee tables overflowing with magazines offered visitors a place to wait in comfort. At the far end of the room was a large desk. Assuming this was where she needed to check in, Hermione made her way over to speak to the witch on duty.
"Morning, miss," the witch said, smiling brightly as soon as she saw Hermione. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione replied. "I have a meeting with Minister Warren at ten o'clock?" The witch scanned her notes and nodded.
"Indeed you do," she said. "May I see your wand, please? It's standard procedure."
"Of course." Hermione handed it over and waited patiently while the receptionist registered her.
"All set," she declared a moment later. "Here is your visitors' badge; please keep it on your person at all times. The lifts are just down that hall to your left, and you'll find the Minister's office on the top floor."
"Thank you very much," Hermione said with a smile. She walked off in the direction indicated and pressed the button for the lift, which appeared almost immediately. The ascent was a long one – she was in a skyscraper, after all – but a hidden radio serenaded her with popular Wizarding tunes, and she'd almost forgotten her anxious mood by the time she'd reached the top. When the lift doors opened, Hermione found the Minister's office at the end of a short corridor, took a deep breath, and knocked.
"Come in!" Hermione complied and soon found herself facing the Australian Minister.
"Ah, you must be Miss Granger!" he said. "Please, have a seat." Jeff Warren was nothing like Cornelius Fudge or Rufus Scrimgeour – he was much younger, for one thing, and his jovial demeanor immediately put Hermione at ease.
"Can I get you anything, Miss Granger?" he asked. "Tea? Coffee?"
"Just some water, if it's not too much trouble. And please, call me Hermione."
"Hermione it is then." He procured the requested water, then got right down to business.
"So, Hermione. It seems you're here because you're looking for someone, is that correct?"
"Yes, sir. My parents."
"Tell me the full story again, if you don't mind? I'd like to make sure I've got my facts straight before I go any further." She obliged, leaving nothing out as she explained what she'd done and her reasons for doing so.
"So what you're saying is that you planted a lifetime's worth of false memories in your parents, memories strong enough to suppress their true histories," Jeff said when she'd finished. Hermione nodded.
"How old are you?" he asked.
"Nineteen in September," Hermione replied. He whistled.
"That's advanced magic for someone three times your age," he said. "It might be rather impudent of me to say so, given the circumstances, but I'm impressed." Hermione shrugged.
"I did what I had to do," she acknowledged. "Personally, I think I'm very lucky that nothing went wrong. Now, all I want is to set things right – and that's why I'm here, because I understand the reversal is even more difficult than the initial spell, and I can't afford to mess it up. I've been through so much in the past year, and I'm not sure I trust myself to keep it together long enough to do it properly, especially given who they are."
"I understand, Hermione. I know it doesn't even come close to what Britain experienced, but Australia didn't get off scot-free in the war either." He paused, his expression grim. "Too many good people lost too much – it hurts me to see my people hurting, so if I can help just one good person gain something back, I'll do it." Hermione somehow understood that by 'my people,' he meant all of Wizard-kind, not just those of Australian background, and she was touched at his genuine concern and eagerness to help.
"Thank you, Minister. I really appreciate it. What do we have to do?" She pulled parchment and quill from her bag, poising herself to take notes as the Minister outlined his plan.
The following afternoon, Hermione found herself standing outside a small cottage approximately an hour outside the city proper. Two experienced Obliviators, whom she'd met yesterday during her meeting with Minister Warren, stood behind her. They'd told Hermione that her best chance of success came if she herself were the primary spell caster for the reversal, but they'd be there to lend her their wands, as well as their advice and emotional support, should she need them. Hermione was extremely grateful – despite what she'd told Harry, Ron, and Ginny, she wasn't sure she could do this alone. She knocked, fidgeting with her sleeves as she waited. All too soon, the door opened, revealing a very familiar face.
"Stupefy!" The woman crumpled to the floor in a heap. Hermione didn't really like the idea of Stunning her parents, but she'd acknowledged that it'd be much easier to cast such a complicated spell if they did – after all, Wendell and Monica Wilkins had no idea who she was and were therefore bound to put up a fight if strangers broke into their home and began chanting.
"Monica? Everything alright, dear?" A tall man appeared at the end of the entry hall, having just come in from what Hermione glimpsed to be the kitchen. He barely had time to register the scene before him, a shocked expression on his face, before he joined his wife in temporary sleep.
"Let's get them in the sitting room – they'll be more comfortable," one of the Australians said. Hermione nodded, and the three quickly repositioned the Grangers on the sofa.
"Ready?" Hermione let out a long, slow breath before answering.
"Yes." She raised her wand, letting the incantation fall from her lips like a prayer, and watched in wonder as a massive stream of pure white light burst from the end of her wand, entirely enveloping her parents. The Obliviators added their magic to the spell – power-wise, it wasn't necessary, as Hermione's magical strength was more than enough, but her emotions were threatening to burst at any moment, and their lack of personal connection maintained the stability necessary for the complex spell.
Several long minutes later, it was over. Hermione was visibly trembling as she looked at the still forms of her parents. In just a few moments, they would know exactly what their only daughter had done.
"Ennervate." She cast the spell before she had any more time to fret, and her parents began to stir. It only took them a few confused seconds to notice the teenager wringing her hands in front of them.
"Hermione?" her mother asked softly.
"Oh, Mum!" Hermione cried. She threw herself into her parents' arms, shaking uncontrollably. For so long since the war had ended, she'd kept her emotions bottled up inside her, away from the prying eyes of the press, but now, she didn't have to. Finally able to let go of everything, Hermione Granger broke down and cried.
