A/N: This one is kind of long . . . for this series, anyway. We're getting a look at Hermione through her father's eyes. And he's gotta have a talk with his little girl.

I wasn't sure I was going to post it all, but Katmom said it was good the way it is, so . . . here you go.

Hogsmeade, 24 September 1977

Daniel Dagworth-Granger emerged from a quaint candy store—they called them sweet shops, apparently—by the name of Honeydukes, a box of toffee in one hand, while his wand hand was free. He hadn't attended Hogwarts, nor had his wife, but his grandfather had told him stories about the castle and the local magical town, so Daniel had come prepared to indulge his only child. They had things to discuss, and he knew that candy might smooth the possibly rocky path to come.

The students were mostly dressed in day clothes, though some had black robes, that Hermione had written were the scholar's robes, on over their other garments. He didn't see his daughter amongst the others, so he meandered to a shop she might be visiting: Dogweed and Deathcap. Herbology was something they were both interested in, with her set to inherit one day, and Daniel imagined she'd be there.

"Wait. The Sopophorous plant. You've got to carry it here, right?"

Daniel grinned to hear her voice. That's my girl. He slipped in the open door of the shop and waited to see what would happen. It was good to see Hermione. He'd missed her. His wife—Emma, who had passed on five years before—had only been able to have the one child and they'd spoiled the girl a little. Letting her play with plants and teaching her potions from the time she could stand on a stepping stool, showing her how to cast a spell silently, as it was done in America.

He hoped she wouldn't be at a disadvantage here in Britain, with her silent spells.

"I have passed my exams!" she declared, her tone rising in what her father knew was frustration. "Do I have to bring my certifications with me to go shopping, now?"

"No, of course not," Daniel said, deciding it was time to smooth things over. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Dad! Please get this lady to sell me that Sopophorous plant! She doesn't believe I can use it yet."

"Oh, Miss Dagworth-Granger." A new voice preceded another visitor to the small Herbology store, but Daniel paid heed only to the wizened woman behind the counter.

"Dagworth-Granger?" the woman whispered, white brows rising into her forehead.

"Yes," he said.

"The Dagworth-Granger? I knew Hector, you know. He helped me get established here, and . . . so sorry, sir. This is your daughter?"

"Yes." Relieved that the situation had apparently resolved itself, Daniel nodded and paid for the plant in question before turning to join his daughter. She was surrounded by a few young men who were dressed quite well, he decided.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, I wondered if you could tell me the best method of preparation for the syrup of hellebore?"

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, I wanted to ask your opinion on the properties of aconite in a potion I was designing."

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, are you here with anyone today? I'd like to escort you to the Three Broomsticks, if you're available."

"Oh, it's so good to see you, Hermione! Are the boys pestering?" That came from a just-arrived young woman with deep red hair and more scholarly robes.

Hermione smiled and smoothed a hand over her jeans and her old Ilvermorny sweater. "Um, hi, Lily. Not really pestering, no. My dad's just arrived, see—" She turned then, and Daniel was happy to lift the plant she wanted up for her viewing. "And I think we're going to have some lunch together. Sorry," she said to the boys about her. "But maybe we can meet up in the Library tomorrow?"

Daniel cleared his throat as the young men looked in his direction and Hermione actually blushed. "Oh, shoot. Sorry. Right. Yeah. Um." It wasn't often his little girl got flustered, but he thought it was amusing. "Dad, here are some of my new schoolmates and friends. This is Lily Evans, Head Girl. And this is Severus Snape, who is a budding Potioneer like you. And this is Regulus Black, Scion of House Black, as I understand it?" The young, gray-eyed man nodded respectfully. "And this is Amos Diggory, who is interested in working for their government."

"The Ministry," young Diggory asserted with another of those respectful nods.

"Everyone, this is Daniel Dagworth-Granger, head of our eponymous brewing and development company."

"And her father," Daniel added with a slanted smile.

Handshakes all around were shared before he could get his little girl off by herself. But he persevered.

At length, they were in the same place—pub, he thought it was—mentioned back at the store. The Three Broomsticks. He had his daughter order for them both and then set up a charm that bent sound around them so that they could talk without being overheard. It was something he'd learned from his grandfather's papers; a business secret, really.

"So, what's on your mind, Dad?" Hermione asked, eyes glinting with suspicion as well as curiosity. She sipped at her juice, made a face, but then decided she'd drink it anyway. "You surprised me."

"A good surprise, I hope?"

"Yeah! But what is it?"

"Well, you've been here a few weeks now and I wondered if you'd thought any more on what we talked about before we relocated." He eyed the shepherd's pie before him before carefully diving in with his fork. "Have you met any young men here that would be suitable?"

"Dad!" she protested, her voice a harsh whisper as she darted a glance around. He looked too, seeing a couple of younger men across the pub sitting so as to watch her. He knew body language, sure enough. "I'm only barely eighteen."

He had sent her a birthday present to commemorate the day earlier that week, so he nodded. "An adult. And you're the last of our blood, Hermione. I know it's a terrible weight to have to carry, but it's yours like it was mine." He had met Emma at Ilvermorny. She had been a daughter of the Scamander family, though not the famous Newt Scamander. They'd married shortly after finishing their masteries. "With care, you'll be able to perhaps—" He didn't know how to say what he felt he had to say.

"With care, Dad, you'll be able to outlive me and I can be a Healer and I won't have to—"

"You'll still have to, sweetheart. But give yourself the, er, opportunity to have more than one, you know?"

Heat flared in both of their faces, but neither dropped their gaze.

"So," he said after they had uncomfortably gone back to pretending to eat lunch, "any prospects? The Purebloods here in Britain do things differently than they do back home and I don't want you to have to deal with any surprises, you know? What about those boys back in the store?"

"Shop. If we're going to be British, we'll be British."

"Shop, then. They looked to be . . ." He searched for a word. "Upstanding young wizards."

"They are. There are also a few others . . ."

Daniel covered his grin with the tankard of butterbeer before him. So she had been keeping her eyes open. Good girl. "And?"

"And none of them asked me on a date to Hogsmeade this weekend, which is, I understand from Lily, the big interest indicator for dating here. The Head Boy, James Potter—"

"Potter? The Sleekeazy Hair Potion family?" That was both good news and bad news; could they combine families as well as companies?

"That would be him, yes. I've, er, done some asking around. He is not interested in me, Dad. He's very much into Lily." Hermione smiled a little. "I understand he's proposed to her five times but she's never said yes. However, she did come with him to Hogsmeade today. So. See, that's how they do things here and . . ." She shrugged and took another tiny sip of her juice and made another tiny moue of distaste before sliding it away from her.

"Who are they?" he inquired without glancing at the boys who'd been watching them. "Don't look. They're across the way and one of them has a scar down his cheek and the other has what looks like a Pink Floyd t-shirt on under his school robes."

His daughter coughed and conjured a glass of water with a few quick motions of her wand. After drinking a bit to clear her throat, she resolutely met his eye. "The one in the t-shirt is Sirius Black and the one with the scar is Remus Lupin. They're both quite intelligent and capable wizards." She laughed a little. "They're nerds, really. They've got a group of their friends called The Marauders or something and there're nicknames and secrets and inside jokes. It's silly but they're having a good time."

"And neither of them asked you to come to town with them?" Daniel would have scowled at the young men but he was pretending they weren't there. "Do you have classes together? Are they younger than you or something?"

"Oh, they're seventh years in Gryffindor, like I am. Severus Snape and Regulus Black are in Slytherin, which a lot of students here think is untrustworthy, but they're respectable guys, too. I mean, the Houses here? Blood purity is a huge thing, you know? More than it was at home. And that matters, apparently."

"They know you're a Pureblood, right? That shouldn't make you non-Hogsmeade-worthy," Daniel mused, trying to figure it out.

His daughter sighed. "I know. But apparently something is. So, no prospects yet, Dad."

"Well, I'll keep an eye open too. Maybe you need an older man."

She blushed and shook her head. "I just want to get my mastery in Healing. Maybe there'll be someone there."

"But if someone asks you to town or something, sweetheart…"

"I'll go, I'll go. If only to show that I'm, what, date-able? Fine."

Daniel canceled the sound-bending charm and leaned back to have more of his butterbeer. "Did you get your registration through for your Animagus form?"

"I did, yeah. The kids in Advanced Transfiguration figure I should name myself Puck."

"That's . . ."

"I know! But . . . it's also kind of cute. I mean, you know. Shakespeare wouldn't object, right?"

Hermione glanced toward the boys he'd noticed earlier and nodded to them. They both sat up straight, and came to the same, simultaneous conclusion.

"Oh, great. They're coming over here. Say nothing about the whole 'reproduce for the good of our bloodline' all right, Dad?"

"Potioneer's Honor," he promised.

A/N: Now. I'm going off for a week - parents and family and so on - but if I think of anything to post, I will. (And I've got the next bit started, and . . . well . . . anyway. We'll see how it goes.) Remember, there's no actual plot for this at this point, aside from what her dad wants.

But we'll catch another glimpse soon. I hope.

:) And if you're able to see the big eclipse? Think of me. I'll be watching it from the Nashville area, Tennessee.