Witch Daughter

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, though I wish I did. They are all property of J.K. Rowling and her business associates, except for Lillian.

12: August 1999

Lillian woke up at the sound of the main door opening. It was still dark outside. Nobody should be coming in at this time. She hoped she just dreamed it. Then she heard the door close, but she didn't hear it latch. That was curious. She then heard somebody moving quietly in the entrance hall. She just had to check what was happening.

She thought a good place to see what was happening would be under the dining table in the room opening to the entrance. The door was always open – she even wondered if it was able to close – and the tablecloth would muffle the sound of apparition, although at such short distances it was almost silent anyhow. As soon as she thought of it she found herself under the table. She peeked behind the table-cloth folds. There was a man there. He was wearing dirty, dark cloths, holding some kind of light source in one hand a rummaging with the other in the drawers. 'It must be a burglar' thought Lillian. 'I must stop him!'

She caused some kitchen utensils to rattle. The man turned around to check the source of the noise. She apparated to another corner while his attention was elsewhere.

Not noticing any danger, the man turned back to the drawer.

"I don't think you should do this," told him Lillian.

The man turned around. Noticing she was just a little girl, he relaxed. "Stay quiet or I'll make you suffer!" he threatened her.

"Like this?" asked Lillian, giving him an insufferable headache. It only lasted a second, but the man needed much longer to recuperate. He still thought he could outsmart the kid, though.

"Oh, you'll pay for this..." he said, taking a hand-gun out of his pocket. Lillian knew what it was. She had already seen such weapons in comics and on TV. She knew it could be very dangerous, but she had no intention of letting that horrible man use it. She made his hand turn towards his other hand and made him shoot twice. The man collapsed on the floor. His bloody hand clutched by the other, the pistol falling to the floor. He didn't even notice when the pistol slid a few steps further from him and the lights were turned on.

There were sounds coming from the stairs. Dave appeared first. He was still wearing his pajamas only, carrying a large stick. Jane walked a few steps behind him, still tying the dressing gown around her.

"Gr'pa, there's a man in here. He shot his hand," said Lillian.

"Are you alright? Did he harm you?" asked Dave worriedly.

"I'm fine. He didn't do anything to me, except wake me up. Should I call the police?"

"Please do so. Jane, please go with her. Make sure she gives all the relevant details." Dave stood over the burglar, making sure he would stay put.

Lillian reached the phone, stretching a little. She dialed and then waited for a reply. "Hello, I'm speaking from Granger's residence... Yes, that one... There's a man here who forced the door to come in. He tried to take something from our drawers and then he threatened me with a gun... No, nothing, but he shot himself on the hand... In a few minutes? OK! We shall wait... Bye"

"What did they say?"

"They asked if we were the Grangers who married with Marquees Potter. I said we were and they were just too delighted to help."

The man on the floor was trying to move closer to his gun. "No, you don't" said Lillian sternly. She shot a look at him and he started whimpering in pain.

Jane was back in bed by the time the policemen arrived. Dave let them in. "Don't you have an alarm system here?" asked one policeman.

"This is the first time we've even heard of a burglary in this neighborhood since we came to live here, almost twenty years ago," explained Dave.

"You are lucky, then. All private houses should have alarms, and now, that you are related to Potter, your house is in even greater danger. I wonder why your insurance company didn't insist on alarms."

"How did you stop him?" inquired the other policeman.

"It was Lillian who stopped him. I arrived only when he was already on the floor" told them Dave.

The policeman eyed Lillian suspiciously. "How old are you, girl?"

"I'm five and a month!" answered Lillian proudly.

The man still looked doubtful. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I woke up when the door opened..." started Lillian.

"Do you always notice when it opens. It seems to make no noise…" commented the policeman.

"It makes just a little bit of noise, but that was enough. I then heard steps in here, so I came down quietly to see what was going on."

"Weren't you afraid?"

"Just a bit. Not enough to overcome my curiosity. I saw what he was doing and told him it was wrong."

"You just told him?"

"Yes. Like I'm talking with you now. He turned to me and told me to stay silent or he would make me suffer. I didn't like that. I moved silently to another spot and made some noise. He got frightened and pulled out his gun, so I made noise at a different place and he turned and shot his hand."

"Did you touch him or his gun, or did he touch you?"

"No. I didn't touch him and he didn't touch me. He had no chance."

The story fitted the evidence, yet something still seemed weird, but the policemen couldn't identify it. They bandaged the burglar, after having cuffed his hands and his feet and took him away.

"This will leave an ugly stain" noted Dave, looking at the blood stained carpet.

"I'll handle it!" said Lillian.

She looked at the carpet and the stains started changing. It soon looked like various sizes of blood drops were resting on top of the carpet. Lillian flicked her hand and the red liquid flew into the toilet, leaving the carpet an-marred. Dave could hear the toilet flushing.

"You are marvelous! Have I ever told you that?" he said to her, hugging her tightly, as they were going back upstairs.

"Oh, I think I should make the door lock better" noted Lillian as they reached the top of the stairs. She turned around and looked at the entrance door. Dave heard a few clicks and noted some brass bands appearing around the doorframe.

"What have you done?" he asked.

"I made it lock on all sided and in several points. A burglar would have to work much harder to open it now" said Lillian.

"Well, back to bed! We still have half a night to sleep off"

"Good night, Gr'pa."

"Good night, Lilly."

"You are the star of the morning paper" was the first phrase Lillian heard when reaching the breakfast table. Dave put the newspaper in front of her.

Lillian noticed the headline on the first page: "Five year old stops armed burglar". The rest was on the inner pages. She turned to read some more.

"It was an incredible sight even for experienced policemen: A burglar lying on the floor, whimpering in pain and clutching his bloody hand while his pistol, the cause of the bloody hand, lies on the floor as well, and the five years old Lillian Granger, the middle sister of our new Lady Potter – previously known as Hermione Granger, daughter to Dr. Jane Granger and Dr. Dave Granger – both well respected dentists, telling happily of how she made the burglar shoot his own hand.

'She looked and sounded as if this was nothing more than washing her hands before eating' confirmed policeman Jones, who interrogated the girl. 'Her story was later confirmed by the burglar. He didn't believe that such a small girl outsmarted him' added Mr. Jones.

The Grangers had just returned home after spending a long day at their daughter's wedding and the following reception, where the Queen could be seen chatting with other guests. The burglar was probably hoping to grab some of the expensive jewels before they were stowed away. He just didn't include meeting young Miss Lillian in his plan."

"Was that the queen – the old little lady who hardly even looked at me?"

"Yes, dear. So many people wanted to be near her that she could hardly notice anyone." Dave felt protective for the queen.

"She looked exhausted" noted Lilly. "She should let others do some of her work."

"She does, but your Dad seems to be too important for her to send somebody else. She wanted to be there as well."

"She could just come and visit him after the honey-moon," commented Lilly.

"She may just do that. Or maybe even invite your parents to the royal palace."

"Will I be invited as well?"

Jane hesitated. "You are still regarded as our daughter, not theirs. It may take some time before this can change."

"Why?" frowned the girl.

Jane sighed. "Now, that they are both getting too much public attention, it would be unwise to make you known as their daughter. It would attract attention of the worst kind. You wouldn't like it at all."

"Because Mom had me when she was so very young?"

"That, and she was not yet married, of course."

"Will I be able to live with them once they return from their honeymoon?"

"Yes, but not full-time. Hermione needs to continue studying, and probably Harry as well. You would be better staying here and going to school with the kids you already know. You could still spend the weekends with them."

"I can even be with them after school – I can apparate from my room and nobody will know."

"That may be possible, as long as your parents agree."