Chapter 35: Hermione times two
„Are you sure you want to do this?"
Hermione nodded in answer to Harry's worried question, her lips pressed into a thin line. Her hands were clenched in tight balls at her sides, until Harry saw Draco take one of those hands into his own and gently prying it open, so that his fingers could entwine with hers. A small smile stole over Harry's face upon this gesture, especially as Hermione seemed to relax a bit.
They were standing at the end of a road in the middle a small suburb of London. According to Hermione, this was the place where she and her parents had lived until she turned five. There was a line of houses on one side of the street and a park with a playground on the other side. On this fine day in May there were plenty of children with their parents on the playground, but Harry couldn't find the telltale sign of bushy hair among the children.
His stomach twisted, when he realized that none of those happy people out here knew that they were in danger at this very moment. For them it was just another sunny Saturday afternoon, a day to spend with their families. They were unaware of the war that was raging outside their own world, but could still do them so much harm. They were absolutely helpless. Should Voldemort and his Death Eaters decide to come to this neighbourhood, they wouldn't stand a chance.
As soon as they were back at Hogwarts, Dumbledore needed to dispatch one or two Order members so that they could keep an eye on this neighbourhood. It would be too dangerous to leave them unprotected, even if they somehow managed to convince Hermione's parents to go into hiding with their daughter. Sooner or later Voldemort would realize where they lived and then he would come.
"So, which house is yours?" Ron's voice tore Harry out of his thoughts.
Hermione looked down the street, until she pointed at a relatively small one-storey house. It was surrounded by a brown wooden fence, and the front yard was decorated with colourful flowers on the fresh green grass. Somehow, this whole neighbourhood reminded Harry a bit of Privet Drive, but just a bit. Some things were definitely different – somehow, this neighbourhood was alive, with children playing outside, gardens that were filled with flowers, but also some weeds, and not to forget the different toys lying on the grass. It was really comfortable and not as sterile as Privet Drive.
"It's number eleven," Hermione informed them, her voice thick. Harry put a hand on the small of her back and gave her a reassuring smile. It would be alright, he was telling her. And she wasn't alone. Hermione returned his smile, before she swallowed once and said, "I'm ready. Let's go."
The three young men nodded at each other over Hermione's head and together they made their way over to the house Hermione had pointed out. There was a car in the driveway, much to their relief, which meant that at least one of the Grangers appeared to be home. It would just be too complicated to have to wait for them, especially as Harry had this bad feeling that they would need to hurry.
With her head held high, even though Harry could see her tremble lightly, Hermione walked up to the front door and didn't even wait until they had joined her to ring the bell. Harry almost held his breath, as two seconds passed, five seconds passed, ten seconds passed. Finally, after seemingly endless thirty-three seconds, they could see a shadow through the milky glass of the door. The noise of someone turning a key in a lock could be heard and then the door was opened.
A brown-haired man, who looked to be about thirty, looked at them curiously. Pushing up the silver-framed glasses on his nose, he asked, "Can I help you?"
Harry noticed how Hermione froze next to them, but before he could say something to answer the man's, Hermione's father's, question, Draco cleared his throat. "Dr. Jason Granger, I presume?" When Hermione's father nodded his head, Draco smiled at him politely. "My name is Eirian Draconis and these are my colleagues, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Jean Evans. We're professors and representatives of a very prestigious boarding school in Scotland and would like to talk to you about your daughter."
"My-my daughter?" the man sputtered, but before he could say more, another voice came nearer, only to reveal a woman about the man's age, with slightly bushy brown hair and kind brown eyes.
"Jason, who's this at the door?"
Mrs. Granger smiled brightly at the four guests standing in front of her door, while she was waiting for her husband to answer.
"They claim that they're from some kind of boarding school and want to talk to us about Hermione." He eyed the four of them suspiciously.
At that moment Harry was glad that they had taken enough care to look like Muggles, he, Ron and Draco wearing Muggle suits and Hermione a dark blue skirt and a white blouse. He didn't even want to imagine how Dr. Granger would react, if they had appeared in their robes or really mismatched Muggle clothes.
"I know that this might seem a bit strange to you," Draco continued, smoothly and professionally. "Especially seeing as your daughter is not even two years old yet, but if you give us a chance to explain the situation, you might just believe us."
Mrs. Granger put a calming hand on her husband's arm. He was still glaring at them, the frame of his glasses glinting nearly dangerously in the sunlight, but eventually sighed quietly, mumbling a disapproving "Heather" under his breath, and took a step backwards. However, the unfriendly look on his face didn't disappear, as his wife invited them in and led them to their comfortable looking living room.
On the floor in front of one of the high bookshelves, they immediately spotted a toddler with a mop of extremely bushy hair on her head. The little girl looked up from the storybook she had been 'reading', when she heard her parents' voices. With a squeal of delight, she grabbed the book and ran over to her mother, who immediately picked her up. "Mummy!" she squeaked, pointing at one of the many pictures in the book, which ironically enough was one of a witch on a broomstick. "Look!"
However, her attention was quickly diverted from the book, as her eyes finally fell on the four strangers. Harry couldn't help but smile – now he finally knew how all four of them looked like as toddlers. He noticed similar smiles on Ron's and Draco's face, only Hermione appeared to be frozen, upon seeing her other self.
The little girl curiously tilted her head to one side, staring weirdly enough directly at her older counterpart, before her face split into a bright grin, letting small dimples appear in her round cheeks, and she reached with the hand in which she was holding the book towards Hermione. "For you!"
Hermione stared at the girl, her brown eyes wide, as she hesitantly reached for the book. But when her own hand touched the soft skin of the little girl's hand, a soft smile played on her lips, as she breathed, "Thank you." Now her eyes were filled with wonder, and Harry could imagine pretty well that he and Ron at least had similar looks on their faces, when they had met their baby-selves.
A rough clearing of a throat pulled them all back into the present. It was, of course, Mr. Granger, who was now regarding them with even more suspicions and impatience than before. His wife shot him a warning glare, before she asked them to make themselves comfortable. As soon as they were seated, Draco repeated the round of introductions for the sake of Hermione's mother.
"So," Mrs. Granger, who was having little Hermione sit on her lap, began, "my husband said that you're from a school. May I inquire as to what kind of school it is and why you think that this might be a good school for our daughter?"
This time, Harry decided to offer an explanation. He couldn't let Draco do all the talking. He didn't think it would make a good impression, if just one of them was speaking, while the other three remained silent. "The school's name is Hogwarts, and I'm pretty sure that you haven't heard of it anywhere. However, many people say that it's the best school of its kind in Europe, or maybe all around the world. As to why we think this school might be right for your daughter... well..."
He exchanged a quick glance with his friends, knowing that the hard part would begin now. Mr. and Mrs. Granger needed to know that their daughter was a witch, otherwise they would never believe the second part of what they were going to tell them.
Much to Harry's surprise, Hermione, still holding the storybook in her hands, looked at her parents imploringly, as she said, her voice clear and strong, despite her nervousness, "I know this might sound unbelievable, but I'm sure that you've noticed how... extraordinary your... daughter is."
"What do you mean?" Mr. Granger growled, sounding quite defensively. His wife's grip on his arm tightened, as her knuckles turned white.
"What I mean is that I'm sure that your daughter has done things no other almost two-years-old child should be able to do. Somehow getting out of her bed, despite the bars, or suddenly looking at a book, which had been lying on the highest shelf?"
Hermione had told them all before that she had already displayed the first signs of magic before she could even walk. According to Ron and Draco it wasn't even that unusual, as Wizarding children used their magical power instinctively at that age to get what they wanted. It usually started really small, like flying toys, or escaping their bed, but as the children grew older, this kind of accidental magic could grow a lot stronger. When they had told them this, Harry suddenly wasn't surprised anymore, how he could have ended up on that roof of his school, back when Dudley and his gang had chased after him.
Mrs. Granger's face had suddenly turned as pale as her knuckles, as she whispered, "How do you know this?"
Hermione smiled at them calmly, as she explained, "I know this, because your daughter is a witch, just as I am, or as Harry, Eirian and Ronald are wizards."
"Miss... Evans, was it?" Hermione nodded tersely, at her father's question. "I'm sorry, but did you just say that our daughter is a... witch? And that you are a witch, too, and that these young men are wizards?"
"Yes," Hermione replied politely, patiently. "Your daughter is, what we call, a Muggle-born witch, this means, a witch born to non-magical parents, just as you are."
Suddenly and quite unexpectedly, Mr. Granger rose from his armchair, now towering over Hermione. She tried to hold his glare with a steady gaze of her own, but Harry could clearly see how hard it was for her. "Get. Out," Mr. Granger hissed through clenched teeth. When they didn't react at first, he took another step forward, and his voice rose. "I said, get out!"
"Sir," Ron tried to intervene and got up, but hadn't expected that Hermione's father would turn violent. He grabbed Ron's arm, ignoring the other voices in the room and his little daughter's distraught cries, when suddenly the bookshelves on the wall began to tremble and several books fell to the floor. Then it suddenly appeared as if he and Ron were physically pushed apart, even though no one was touching them.
Harry noticed Ron's confused glance directed at him, Draco and Hermione, but he just shrugged. Neither Draco nor Hermione had their wands in their hands, nor had Harry used wandless magic. This only left one explanation, and all four of them seemed to come to the same conclusion at the same time, as their gazes whipped around to the small girl in her mother's arms. However, Mr. Granger still looked ready to explode, even though the look on his face displayed more confusion than anger at this very moment, so Harry decided to step in.
Raising his hands slightly to indicated that he meant no harm, as he explained, "Mr. Granger, sir, what you've just experienced was accidental magic. As you can see, your daughter was very upset and strong emotions, mostly strong negative emotions, set off those bursts of magic." He was staring at the other man calmly, his voice sounding serious and respectful.
"That was magic?" Mr. Granger asked, looking at his still silently crying and hiccoughing daughter with remorse in his eyes. It was clearly evident that he hadn't wanted to make his daughter cry.
Harry nodded. "Yes, that was magic, uncontrolled magic. If you wish to see a more controlled kind of magic, we would be happy to show you, but we can also understand, if you're confused or even scared." A small mischievous smile appeared on his lips. "If you'd let us show you, we might also try to cheer up dear Hermione."
Mr. and Mrs. Granger exchanged a long look, but eventually both nodded. "Alright," Mrs. Granger asked, sounding a bit shaken by the previous experiences. "Show us."
Harry grinned, turning to his best friend. "Ron, would you do the honours?"
"Of course, mate," Ron grinned as well, already recovered from the small shock from the physical confrontation with Hermione's father. "Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger, what you will see now is completely harmless magic."
With those words, Ron began. He started with a simple levitation charm, letting some of little Hermione's stuffed animals, which were lying around on the living room's floor, fly around the now amazed girl. This was quickly followed by some easy transfiguration of a glass that was standing on the table into a squirrel and back, but the highlight of his little show was the silver Jack Russell terrier that ran around the room, barking wildly. At the end, the small child was laughing loudly and clapping her hands, and just a second later, her stuffed animals were again in the air, only this time by her own doing, much to her parents' astonishment.
"Incredible," Hermione's father could only mutter, as he slumped back down into the soft cushions of his armchair. Ron had his wand tugged away again, but the toys were still flying. Mr. and Mrs. Granger's eyes were fixed on their daughter, whose eyes were sparkling with joy. There were no more signs of her earlier tears, as she was laughing, while making her toys fly loops in the air.
"This is amazing," Mrs. Granger breathed, her eyes filled with awe, as she was watching her daughter. "So, magic is real?"
"Yes, it is..." Draco told them. "It's just hidden really well, in a world of its own. We wouldn't even be allowed to tell you, if your daughter weren't a witch, because of the Statute of Secrecy. Telling non-magical people about the Wizarding world without having a very good reason for doing this is prohibited."
"Usually," Harry continued, "you wouldn't even be told about the Wizarding world until your daughter is eleven years old and receives her formal invitation to Hogwarts—"
"Hogwarts is a school for magic?" Mrs. Granger interrupted him.
Nodding, Harry clarified, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is about a thousand years old and has since its founding been a school for magic. The current Headmaster is Albus Dumbledore, a really powerful wizard. But if you want to know more about Hogwarts, you should talk to Jean. She's probably the only one of us who has read the book Hogwarts A History from cover to cover at least about... a hundred times, maybe?" He grinned, winking at Hermione, who blushed a bit. "She can tell you everything you want to know about the school."
"I think we'll take you up on that offer." Harry was surprised to hear Mr. Granger say this, especially seeing as his voice seemed to have lost much of its suspicious tone, which had mostly been replaced with curiosity. "But why are you here now, if students are usually invited to the school once they're eleven years old?"
Harry took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "I won't beat around the bush. Because of your daughter's status as a Muggle-born witch, you are in danger. At the moment, the Wizarding world is at war with an extremely dangerous wizard, called Voldemort. He's opposed to having witches and wizards born to non-magical parents learn magic and wants to get rid of them all, if possible. Your daughter's name has appeared on the school's register of hopeful students a short time ago and somehow, as we've just found out, her name has slipped to Voldemort." Of course, the last sentence was a lie, but they had decided that this would be the most plausible explanation without revealing too much. "This has made her one of his targets."
Just as expected, Hermione's parents froze, shock and fear clearly written on their faces. Almost as if she could save her daughter all alone, Mrs. Granger clutched the child tightly to her chest, much to the girl's confusion, as suddenly her stuffed animals once again dropped to the ground. "Mummy? Wong?"
"Nothing's wrong, darling," Mrs. Granger whispered and kissed her daughter's hair. "But mummy and daddy have to talk to these nice people. Why don't you go to your room and play?"
The little girl looked at her mother with wide brown eyes, but she finally slipped from her mother's lap. However, instead of leaving the room, she walked up to Hermione and took her hand. "Come wif!" she said, and Harry had to suppress a small grin, because of two things. One, the not even two years old Hermione was already sounding as bossy as her adult counterpart, and second, that she wanted to play with the older Hermione. Harry wondered, if the little girl somehow recognized herself in this young woman.
Hermione glanced at them quickly, asking with her eyes if it would be alright, if she went with the girl. They didn't even need to think about it, as Draco answered quickly with a small amused smirk, "Go ahead. Play with her and maybe show her some more magic tricks." For one, it would only be fair if Hermione also spent some time with her younger self, and on the other hand, Harry, and he knew also the other two young men, would feel a lot better, if the little girl weren't alone at that moment. Not as long as this house was still virtually unprotected.
So, with a small smile, Hermione took the little girl's hand and let herself be pulled from the room. Eventually, when they were sure that the younger Hermione was out of earshot, Mr. Granger spoke again. "What kind of danger are you talking about?"
"Deadly danger. Voldemort has already killed many people, and he wouldn't even hesitate to torture and kill an innocent child. And his followers, the Death Eaters, are just like him, only less powerful, but just as ruthless." Harry once again saw them stiffen, when they heard his answer, but it was the truth. "But we can help you. There are several possibilities that could come into question. The first is, you come to Hogwarts with us. There are already three other families who've come to seek protection under the roof of our school."
"Non-magical families, like ours?" Mrs. Granger wanted to know.
Harry shook his head. "No, wizarding families. But they've, if I may put it that way, pissed Voldemort off and are on his hit list because of this."
"What are the other possibilities?"
Harry once again turned to Mr. Granger, as he replied to his question, "The second one is that we could hide you by a special charm, the Fidelius Charm. With this charm, your house will be hidden from view. Voldemort might walk directly past your window and he wouldn't know that you're there. And the last one would simply be that we put some protection wards around your house and neighbourhood, which would alert us, if another wizard comes to this place. Additionally, should you decide to remain here, Headmaster Dumbledore would provide you with a magical item called a Portkey, which would bring you to Hogwarts, when you activate it."
Mr. and Mrs. Granger remained silent for a long moment after Harry had explained the three different options to them, both of them deep in thoughts. None of the three wizards said something. They could easily tell that this, everything, came as a huge shock. After all, it didn't happen every day that such a bombshell was dropped on you. First that their only daughter was a witch, and then the other shock that they were in danger of being killed by a mad wizard. It really was a lot to take in and Harry thought that it was a wonder that Mr. Granger hadn't followed through with his earlier, if indirect, threat to kick them all out of his house.
Finally, after a very long moment of uncomfortable silence, Mr. Granger cleared his throat. "I believe I also speak for my wife, when I say that we need some time to think and talk about this. I realize that we have to decide quickly, so I only ask you to wait for an hour, at the most. In the meantime, why don't you join your friend and my daughter, while my wife and I talk?"
Draco gave them a reassuring smile, as he got up from the couch. "Of course, we understand. Take as much time as you need, we'll wait."
"Thank you!" The relief in Mrs. Granger's voice was palpable, as she, too, rose from her chair. The other three men followed suit. "Would you like anything to drink while we talk?"
"No, thank you. We are fine," Ron told them. "But if you'd show us to your daughter's room..." Harry couldn't help but grin upon hearing the barely concealed excitement in his best friend's voice. It seemed as if Harry wasn't the only one, who wanted to know how Hermione's room looked like.
"Of course, please follow me."
And follow her they did, through a short corridor and into a room painted in pale pink. A huge grin spread over Harry's face, as he saw Hermione sit with her baby-self in her arms, talking. It seemed as if Hermione was telling her younger self a very fascinating story, as the young girl was listening to her new friend with rapt attention.
Harry noticed that Hermione's parents returned to the living room and closed the door to discuss what they were going to do in private. He, Ron and Draco stepped further into the room, finally alerting both Hermiones to their presence. Harry saw that the grin on Ron's face was even wider than on his own, though this most likely had a completely different reason.
"Well, 'Mione," he chuckled, "I'd never taken you for a girl who'd decorate her room in pink."
A small blush crept on Hermione's face, as she glared at the redhead. Thinking that he should intervene quickly before one of their infamous fights began, Harry just wanted to say something, but Draco beat him to it, as the blond wizard gracefully sat down across from the two Hermiones.
"So, and what have you lovely ladies done since you've left us?"
"Fairy tale!" the little girl squeaked and clapped her hands.
Hermione smiled. "Yes, I was just telling her the fairy tale about the Hippogriff Buckbeak and the brave boy who saved him from the evil wizard."
Harry grinned at her, as he, too, sat down across from them, along with Ron, completing the circle. "Oh, but I hope you haven't forgotten the girl, who was just as brave as the boy, and helped him to save Buckbeak."
Ron snickered, "And don't forget the part, in which the brave girl punches the nasty git. Ow!"
"Don't swear in front of the ladies, Ronald," Draco hissed through gritted teeth, causing Harry to chuckle. "And besides, it was a slap, not a punch."
"Unfortunately," Hermione said regretfully. "In hindsight, a punch would have been far more satisfying than a slap."
"You wound me with your words!"
"Oh, get over it, Draco." Harry slapped him on the back. "We're disrupting little Hermione's story time and that's not nice. So, please, Jean, go on with your story about the Hippogriff and the brave boy and girl...
"And git..." Ron muttered under his breath, earning another light punch from Draco to his arm.
…
The time passed quickly, while the four time travellers were entertaining the little girl with stories about wizards and magic and dragons and merpeople, and played a couple of different games with her. Not for the first time since Draco had woken up after his near-death experience, Harry marvelled at the changes he now found in the other young man. Draco was the one who was speaking the most, almost as if he could read every wish in the little girl's eyes, and treating her like a princess. The older Hermione was visibly touched by her boyfriend's actions, as she was watching the two of them with a loving and fond smile on her face.
"Weird, isn't it? Seeing yourself at this age and actually playing with yourself?" Harry murmured, as he inched nearer to Hermione, so that he wouldn't disturb Draco and the little girl.
"A bit," Hermione admitted, "but it's already getting easier. I'm just surprised that she has taken such a liking to me from the very first moment. I wonder, if she knows..."
"That you're her?" Harry shrugged. "Possible that she might feel something, but I don't think we will ever know for sure."
Just at that moment, they could hear footsteps drawing closer. Almost out of instinct, Harry's wand slipped into his hand, ready to defend this little girl, but he should have known that he was overreacting, when Hermione's parents appeared in the doorway. Mr. Granger was having his arm around his wife's shoulder, as he was pulling her close to him, and Mrs. Granger's eyes were rimmed red. She had obviously cried.
"If you'd come back to the living room," he said. "We've come to a decision."
"Of course," Harry replied and got up from the floor, directly followed by the others. Hermione was gathering the toddler up, before placing her in her mother's arms.
Once in the living room, everyone sat again down on their old seats. It took a short moment, until Mr. Granger had collected himself enough to speak, and when he did, his voice was rough. "First of all, my wife and I, we would like to thank you for telling us, both about our daughter and the warning. As much as it is a shock that Hermione is a witch, many things make sense now and we won't stand in her way, if she wants to follow this path."
"Oh, believe me, she'll be a remarkable witch," Draco told him with a smile. "She already shows a lot of promise."
"We've always known that she'd be great at whatever she will do, when she's older," Hermione's mother replied with a fond smile on her face.
"As to your offers... As you probably know, my wife and I are dentists and we have our own practice. I'm sure you realize that we can't just go away for an unknown period of time, and it would also be suspicious if our house suddenly disappeared. So, after a long and thorough discussion, my wife and I agreed to take you up on your third offer. We believe that it might be best, if we can continue our life as normally as possible."
Harry nodded, with a reassuring and calm smile. "To be honest, we've already expected that. But we can assure you that the protection will be strong enough to hold off any wizard that wishes to do you harm until help arrives, or until you can escape with the Portkeys. We hope of course that it will never come to this, but we want to do our best to protect you."
A heartfelt sob escaped from Mrs. Grangers throat, but it was a relieved "Thank you," that she muttered along with this. Her husband took her hand and squeezed it tightly, while her little baby girl, obviously sensing that her mother needed comfort, hugged her tightly around the neck.
Not wanting to intrude, but knowing that he had to, Harry cleared his throat quietly. "I really don't want to lose much more time, so I suggest that Ron and I return to Hogwarts and tell Professor Dumbledore of your decision. Jean and Eirian can stay behind, if you want, to answer any questions you might have."
"That would be nice," Mr. Granger answered, his voice sounding truly grateful.
"We'll be back soon," Harry promised, as he and Ron rose from the couch.
After another short look back, they left the house through the front door. None of them talked, as they looked for a safe and unwatched place to Disapparate. They arrived in front of the gates and continued their silent trek towards the castle from there. The only time they spoke, it was just as they stepped into the entrance hell, as Ron asked, "Well, it went well, didn't it? Could have been worse..."
"Yeah..." Harry mumbled, lost in thoughts. Ron was right, it could have been worse, but despite knowing that it had been their own decision, Harry wondered and feared that it wouldn't be enough to protect them, even though Dumbledore had assured them that any of those three measures would keep them safe. "Twix..."
They had reached the Gargoyle, which sprung aside upon hearing the correct password, and together they walked up the stairs to Dumbledore's office, ready to tell him everything about the afternoon and the decision the Grangers had made.
Night had already fallen over Hogwarts, when the four time travellers finally returned to their chambers, all of them with sluggish moves. They were dead tired, which was no big surprise, as Harry reflected, seeing as he had woken them at about two o'clock this morning, which had been nearly twenty-two hours ago. It had been an incredibly long and exhausting day, for all of them, both physically and emotionally. So all they did was exchange a quick goodnight, before each of them went into their room (Draco went with Hermione of course).
But at least this day had been successful. Their families were all safe and Harry could sleep a bit better, knowing this. His own parents with little Harry, Ron's family and Draco's mother with her son were all at Hogwarts, and Hermione's parents and her little self were safe at home. Dumbledore had erected the wards around their house and the whole neighbourhood in person, with a little help from Hermione, and had keyed them all into the wards, so that it wouldn't sound the alarm, when they came into the neighbourhood. He had also given the Grangers the promised Portkeys, silver necklaces with pendants that were formed like a phoenix, which were activated by the saying the word 'Sanctuary' while holding onto the pendant.
They had done everything they could to ensure everybody's safety. Now all they could do was wait. And hope. Wait for whatever Voldemort would do, and hope that their safety measures had been enough.
Still, sitting still and waiting for someone else to act, especially if this someone was Voldemort, was something Harry had never been good at.
He wondered, how long it would take until he attacked, and how long he could just sit back and twiddle his thumbs.
At that moment, Harry didn't know yet, how much this would test his patience.