Authors Note: James Granger was a real person who, unfortunately, did die of a stroke. I spent quite a bit of time researching him. I'm not going to do "these characters don't belong to me" stuff anymore, it's really tedious…
Chapter Four: A Very Hermione Summer
Hermione talked to her parents about her plans for the summer - "Oh, and we should take Harry bowling! Can you believe the Dursley's didn't take him at all? - while Harry watched the street rush by in the car to Hermione's place. He was dreadfully excited, as he had never been there before and he wanted to see what it looked like.
"And…, here we are!", Hermione's dad said. Hermione's house was really more of a mansion. It had sparkling windows and clean white paint, amazing in its' grandeur.
"Woooooow….", Harry breathed from the backseat.
"Isn't it great?", Hermione opened the car door and stepped outside.
"We don't have a butler or anything, but we do eat from fancy plates every meal and take baths every day!" Hermione explained.
"You didn't tell me you lived in a freaking mansion!", Harry said, amazed.
"I wanted you to be surprised".
And surprised he was, as he was led by Hermione through room by marvellous room. The living room, dining room, bedrooms and even bathrooms were all grand - "Silver toilet paper, Hermione?!" - , and the Grangers added many other rooms, including a ballroom and "Why in the world do you have seven bedrooms?", Harry asked in amazement.
'I don't know", Hermione answered, "but we host all the important dentist conferences".
After Hermione had given Harry his tour of her "humble abode", as she called it, they lounged on the plush velvet couches in the living room.
"How exactly did you come to own a mansion?", Harry asked, still wowed by the extreme grandeur.
"Well", Hermione said, "My great-great-great-great grand uncle, James Granger, was a famous writer, and amassed great wealth, some of it which he left in his will to his nephew, my great-great-great grandfather, and told him to 'only use it in a time of a great need, and if no time arises, leave it to your eldest son'. After James died of a stroke, the fortune was passed on. Four lives of no 'times of great need' passed, until finally my grandfather found himself dirt poor and on the streets, and not technically violating James's wishes, used most of the money to buy a mansion and the rest to invest in Apple © stocks, both of which my father inherited".
"Well, that's quite a story!", Harry said.
Hermione's parents wanted to make the following few days special, after all, it was the end of Harry & Hermione's years at Hogwarts. They started this by having a special dinner - homemade Italian cuisine. When Harry tasted the first bit of manicotti, his taste buds screamed for more, so he started shoveling food into his mouth at an undignified rate.
"You're acting like a pig, Harry!", Hermione said with more amusement than anything. "Even worse than Ron!".
Tomorrow's events including a bowling match at the local bowling alley, (Harry won with a few discrete spells on the ball), a picnic, another fancy dinner and finally, graduation presents.
"Why does my present have air holes?", Harry asked nervously.
"Open it up and see!", Hermione's mom told him.
Harry cautiously opened the box to reveal - "An owl! And another snowy one, too! Where in the world did you find this?".
"Well..", Hermione's dad explained, "we made our own trip to Diagon Alley a while back".
"Oh, thank you so much!", Harry squealed like he was eleven again. "I think I'll name - wait, is it a boy or a girl?".
"A boy".
"Well, then, I'll name him Albus."
Hermione then opened her gift - a stunning peacock-feathered quill, and, like Harry, squealed like an eleven year old who just discovered Hogwarts.
Harry then sent Albus to the Burrow, telling Ron all about his first few days at the Grangers' mansion. Well, he thought as he drifted off to sleep, this is going to be a very interesting, no, a very Hermione, summer.