Hermione Granger and the Alternate Universe

Chapter 11 FATHER AND DAUGHTER

"Here we are at my father's house," Hermione said to her bodyguard. "Please stay out here; I don't need protection against my Dad. But don't let anybody else by except my husband and Miss Lovegood."

"You mean Miss Smithson?"

"Ulp, yes—"

"Don't worry, Professor, I already guessed about her names."

Hermione turned toward the front door of her house, but still felt guilty. The bodyguard was dependable, against ordinary adversaries. But a witch or wizard could simply zap him with a curse, and Hermione couldn't even warn him about it.

She walked up to the front door and knocked; it felt odd doing so at a house that had been her own for more than half of her lifetime. The door opened to reveal her father.

"Minnie! Please come in."

Actually Hermione disliked being called Minnie, which to her sounded like something out of Mickey Mouse. But she wasn't going to ruin the greeting by complaining about that. She hugged and kissed her father, then he drew her into the drawing room.

"Minnie, I'm so proud of you, to have won the Prize."

"You and Mum should be proud of yourselves, Dad, for supporting me when I wanted to go into maths. At the time, people said maths wasn't a field for girls."

He frowned. "It's too bad your Mum didn't live to see this."

"Um, Dad, that reminds me." It was an abrupt change of subject, but her Dad would think she was deliberately changing it to lighten that mood. "Back when I was ten or eleven, did somebody visit you, saying that they were from another school and they wanted me as a student?"

He looked puzzled. "No, nothing like that happened."

"Could they have talked to Mum?"

"She would have told me, if it affected something as important as your education. Why do you ask, Minnie?"

"I learnt recently that another school tried to contact me."

"Probably just wanted to boast that they NEARLY got a Nobelist. I wouldn't worry, Minnie. You followed the right path, right?"

"Certainly, Dad."

"In turn, there's something I must ask you. I hate to spoil a happy moment, but there's something I must know." He turned to a low table, and picked up a tabloid newspaper. Hermione knew that normally her father did not read tabloids, so she guessed what this was about before she even saw the headline: NOBELIST ASSAULTED BY PM'S BODYGUARD.

"Is it true? Or is it just a rag making up a sensational story?"

"It's hard to explain," said Hermione, flustered. I can't just say, Dad, I'm a witch. "It wasn't a sexual assault, but yes, something happened. I have two people protecting me now. One's just outside, and he was supplied by the American Embassy. The other is a woman, who's likely to come by in the next hour. And, by the way, the woman's pretending to be a cousin. Please don't give her away."

Her father groaned. "This sounds like that American movie, A BEAUTIFUL MIND."

Hermione got the reference. The movie was about a real-life mathematician who had suffered a nervous breakdown after doing brilliant economic work. Eventually he recovered enough to receive the Nobel Prize. Naturally her father would see parallels.

"I haven't gone crackers, like the bloke in the movie."

"And yet you can't tell me anything."

"Not yet," she said, frustrated.

"Tell me this, at least. You aren't letting yourself be used by the Opposition, are you?"

"Opposition?"

"You may not hear of it much in the States, but Malfoy's party is not very popular in many quarters. Some are amazed that they won the elections. This scandal is a powerful gift to the other side."

Hermione had a sudden horrid suspicion. Amazed that they won the election. Suppose that wizards had used magic to distort the counting of votes? Ordinary election safeguards would not take magic cheating into account. Malfoy's party could be losers, running Great Britain by fraud. Then a worse thought occurred to her. What if Parkinson's wizards had pulled the same trick in the last US Presidential election, and Parkinson was not a legitimate winner either? Had the Dark Wizards taken over two of the leading nations of the English-speaking world, by trickery?

And Hermione could not say a thing about it. The last time a British official had tried to claim "We lost by witchcraft" was the Middle Ages – the trial of Joan of Arc. Try to say THAT, and people really would start talking about A BEAUTIFUL MIND and crazy Nobel Prize winners.

"Minnie?"

"No, I'm not working for the Opposition, Dad. I don't want to get involved in dirty politics." Not Muggle politics anyway. But I seem to be getting involved in "Politics by other Means".

DINGDONG.

"Let me get that, Dad."

It was Luna at the door. Hermione brought her to the dining room. "Luna, this is my father, Mr. Granger. Dad, this is Luna, the woman who's protecting me."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," said Luna. "You must have been a great help to your daughter, to put her onto the path to genius."

Hermione stared. She had never heard Luna speak with that much solemnity before. Nor did she think Luna was being grossly insincere; Luna never flattered. Apparently she genuinely respected Hermione's Dad. It made Hermione wonder if Luna had issues with her own parents.

"Professor, I have found out something important," Luna added, turning to Hermione. "Can we talk privately?"

"Er, Dad?"

"If it regards your safety, Minnie, by all means. You two can use the kitchen for privacy."

Hermione led Luna into the kitchen, annoyed. Her conversation with her Dad was getting painful enough without Luna butting in. If this was one of her eccentricities- "What is it?"

"I saw McGonagall. She's too old to remember it directly, but her scroll says she came to visit your parents in early 1990 to explain about wizards and offer you admission at our school. They turned her down."

"Bollocks." Hermione rarely used rude language, but she was getting really ticked off. "I just asked Dad the same question, and he said nobody came."

Luna bit her lip.

"Do you know something I don't, Luna?"

With obvious reluctance, Luna said: "Well, if your parents turned McGonagall down, and she was afraid that they might tell somebody else about witches, she might have used an Oblivate spell."

"Obliviate?" Hermione could interpret the word from her knowledge of Latin: the imperative plural of the word "to forget". Ordering a group of people to forget something. "Luna, are you saying that somebody tried to tamper with my parents' memories? That's horrible!"

Hermione's cell phone rang. D F E D A G# E. She glared at it. It was a text message from her husband.

"GOT CALL FOR U FROM RAMASITA. SAYS: WE NEED TO TALK."

TO BE CONTINUED