Dr. Helen Granger had enough in common with her daughter, bone-structure wise, that it was easy to see the family connection. But her coloration was dark-haired and olive-skinned, such that it seemed likely that she had a Greek ancestry. And I had worries that this would be a situation of a fury unleashed.

Before her mother could, I assumed, start yelling about the much older boy in the house with her pre-teen daughter without parental invitation, Hermione tried, "Harry was in the neighborhood showing me a ritual so I can do magic at home over the breaks."

Somehow, my name triggered recognition in the older woman, and she, after taking in my height, staff, and that everyone was fully dressed, said, "Helen Granger. Pleased to meet you, Harry. We've heard a lot about you." She put out a hand.

Trying not to look too guilty, I shook her hand and said, "Good to meet you. Sorry for coming by unannounced. I had an unexpected magical problem and Hermione was the only one I knew of nearby."

"Something to do with doing magic over the breaks?" asked Dr. Granger, clearly indicating that her daughter came by her intelligence honestly.

Fortunately, my brain informed me that I wasn't going to get away with much of a lie around this woman, and I figured I might as well tell her pretty much what I told her daughter. "I'd stored some family keepsakes that I didn't really trust anyone at school to get, and was running out of time to pick them up. So I kind of had to sneak out of school to come grab them before it was too late." Realizing that I hadn't fully answered her question, I amended, "And the magic that keeps people from noticing me casting spells outside of Hogwarts ran out, so I needed Hermione to help me reset it."

"And she'll be able to use that to practice magic at home?" she quizzed.

"If she can find another witch or wizard to help her, yeah," I considered. "It's slightly advanced magic, but she's basically figured it out already just from watching me do it once."

"Excellent," she grinned. I must have shown surprise about rule-breaking, when she explained, "We've been worried about Hermione being able to keep up with her studies over the summers since McGonagall told us about the Trace and then admitted the established families had ways to get around it. I don't want Hermione falling behind the 'pureblood' children, especially after all the names they've been calling her."

"There's not much chance of that, ma'am," I told her. "Hermione's already way ahead of all the kids in her year, including ones that have known about magic their whole lives."

The girl glowed at the unexpected praise, as did her mother. Helen asked, "Do you need to rush on, or can you stay for lunch?"

Completely nonplussed by not getting the chewing out I was expecting, I shrugged and said, "Close enough now that I can make time. Thanks."

Helen Granger quizzed me and Hermione about Hogwarts as she put together sandwiches for lunch. It turned out that Hermione had been explaining a lot to her parents in letters home. But her mother seemed pleased to have someone else independently verifying what she'd heard. I'd let my guard down by the time she asked, "And you're in some kind of trouble with the Ministry?"

I shot Hermione a look, and she had the decency to blush. But I didn't want them to think of me as a magical criminal or anything, so I gave the vague explanation, "My foster father, who was my mentor, turned out to secretly be a really bad guy. The dark ritual he was trying to do to me went wrong, and I got out but he didn't. Turned out he had some friends on the force that refuse to believe he was bad. I didn't get the impression I'd get a fair trial, before Dumbledore got me into Hogwarts to get me away from those aurors."

She gave me a look as if reading my mind more thoroughly than Dumbledore could, then nodded. "That's really unfortunate. Between what McGonagall explained, Hermione's letters, and reading some of her history books, I'm not too pleased with the picture that forms of magical government. It seems Victorian, at best."

I shrugged, going back to helping set the table, and explained, "Having the first witch in your family going to Hogwarts is probably the worst way to learn about all of it. As far as I know, the vast majority of magical people basically treat the Ministry the way hobbyists treat the main authority for their hobby. They read the magazines, and sometimes show up for certification, but they still have a day job. Hogwarts is the school for serious enthusiasts, though." I paused to think of an analogy. "It's like Hermione got sent to a super serious Russian ballet school when nobody else in your family even knew ballet was a thing until she found out she was good at it."

"And small industry politics is even more dysfunctional than national politics," she nodded, getting it. "You should see some of the ridiculousness that happens at dentistry conferences."

At about that point, I heard the front door open, and a man's voice shout, "I'm home!" Dr. Jean Granger came into view, and I found out where Hermione got her coloration. He was pale with her same brown hair, and, as short as he kept it, it basically turned into a white-dude 'fro. He didn't seem surprised to see me, so someone must have called ahead when I wasn't paying attention. "Mr. Dresden, good to meet you."

"Dr. Granger, likewise," I said, taking the man's hand. Again, I was expecting fatherly disapproval or at least a dominance handshake, but it was just as firm as if he was meeting a client in his dental practice.

"Jean, please, or it gets confusing around here," he grinned.

"Then Harry for me," I allowed.

"Fair enough," he smiled, then saw that everything was set up, "Just in time, huh? Glad I didn't hold up the lunch."

Sitting down over the sandwiches, Jean touched on a lot of the same questions Helen had, clearly just as pleased to have additional context for what his daughter had been up to for the past few months. He was also, it turned out, just as good at hitting me with the hard questions after I let me guard down.

"So you and Hermione fought a troll?"

"Stars and stones, Hermione," I nearly choked on my sandwich. "You tell your parents everything?"

"Why wouldn't I?" she responded, honestly confused.

"I figured something like that, they'd have you out of Hogwarts like a shot," I admitted.

Helen explained, "We're not thrilled about it, of course. But this kind of danger isn't going to go away, and if we pull her out of school they'll seal her magic and remove our memories of it. So we'll be in just as much danger and won't be able to do anything about it." She took a sip of her water, then further explained, "And even if we wanted to continue her magical education elsewhere, who knows if it's safer? You just told me your previous place of education saw you barely escape from a deadly ritual."

"And they do seem to have a pretty advanced medical system, so I'm not sure what we consider dangerous really is," added Jean. I couldn't argue with any of that, and I wasn't sure if I should share my suspicions that the troll was deliberately sent after Hermione. After a moment of thoughtful sandwich eating, he added, "I am a little worried about the giant three-headed dog in the building."

Seeing Hermione nodding, I mentioned, "Fluffy's actually not a problem." They all looked at me like I was crazy, so I explained what the house had figured out in the last few weeks of exploration, "There was no chance that most of Gryffindor wasn't going to go check it out after Hermione and her friends got in to see him by accident. And they kept daring each other to get closer, until they figured it out. He seems to be well trained or under some kind of spell to keep him from actually hurting any students. Snarls and snaps a bit, and lies down on the trap door if anyone gets too close, but several of our housemates have even started petting him and bringing him treats."

Hermione was suddenly pissed off, "The twins told all the first years that he was vicious and nearly bit George's ear off! Oooh, I'm going to get them!" Apparently her parents were also fully informed about the twins, and everyone chuckled realizing that Hermione had been pranked. "I wonder if it's actually worth my time to figure out who Nicholas Flamel is."

I wasn't actually very good with British magical history, but I did know enough about major magical innovators, so I just said, "The French alchemist?"

Hermione suddenly got a "eureka!" look and asked, "May I be excused? I need to go look something up!" She raced off to the den as soon as her mother nodded.

With the girl out of the room, her parents glanced at each other as if to confirm that it was a good time, and then Helen said, "Harry, we want to thank you for how much you've done for Hermione."

I waved her off, "She actually wound up having to save me from the troll, if she's being modest about it. She's a really smart kid. I'm glad to hear you're not worried about her continuing to learn magic. I think she's going to be great at it."

They once again beamed at the praise of their daughter, but Helen went on, "It's not just that. For the first few weeks of school, she seemed to be having a hard time. The only thing she seemed really excited about most weeks was a little study group some older boy was running that she'd invited herself to. You know her well enough now that you can probably imagine she's always had a hard time making friends." I nodded at that, so she continued, "The last couple of months have been totally different."

Jean picked up the story, "Did you know that she didn't even explain the troll until later in her letter, after Halloween? She started off explaining how she was having a really bad day, and then you came to check on her, talked her out of her funk, and helped her figure out how to make friends. And I honestly can't think of any other 16-year-old boys that would go far out of their way for someone they didn't know unless–"

"She's twelve!" I said, reflexively, surprised at the intimation. "And, to be honest with you, the girl I thought was the love of my life tried to help my mentor do whatever horrible thing he was going to do to me, and probably died with him. That was five months ago. I'm not ready to date anyone, even someone my own age."

"I didn't think so," he smiled. "Seeing you with her, you're like a big brother–"

"Or the cool, young teacher that gets it," added Helen with a grin.

"Right. So, like Helen said, thanks for looking out for our daughter. You didn't have to, and nobody else was. It means the world to her. And us."

"A philosopher's stone!" shouted Hermione, racing back into the dining room holding aloft an open history textbook. "I wasn't looking in the right places! It's so obvious! It wasn't safe in Gringotts, so they're protecting it in Hogwarts!"

"Makes sense," I nodded to the excited pre-teen, who beamed at me agreeing with her. Her parents looked confused, so I added, "You know? Alchemists always trying to turn lead into gold and live forever? Flamel actually figured out how to do it." That got a couple of assenting shrugs, as that probably wasn't even in the top ten weirdest things about magic they'd heard lately.

"That may have taken us months to figure out without you. Thanks Harry!" Hermione gushed.

"You're welcome. But you would have gotten it faster than that," I demurred. She probably would have figured it out instantly if she'd asked a teacher, but I wasn't going to probe in front of her parents why she suddenly didn't trust the staff. It was probably because she realized it was supposed to be a secret and they'd be mad she was looking into it. Not that half the school wasn't desperately curious. But thinking about teachers did remind me I needed to get going. "Well, thanks for lunch and everything," I said, starting to stand.

"It was our pleasure," Helen insisted, as they stood and started walking me to the front door. "You're welcome to come by anytime you're in the neighborhood. But… maybe let us know you're coming next time," she chided with a smile to take the sting out of the rebuke.

I said my goodbyes and left, walking down the street back toward the train station. I wasn't far from the coast, so hopefully I could get there and be out of British territory by sunset. With any luck, within a week I could be back in the States, out of the reach of everyone that was trying to manipulate or imprison me, back in charge of my own destiny…

…struggling to learn what else I could about magic, never having solved any of the mysteries about what was going on here, and leaving kids like Hermione in the lurch when I'd apparently accidentally improved their lives.

I'd only walked a few blocks by the time I'd started having serious doubts about my plan. Was I just running away? Was being a broke orphan with no degree back home really going to make me happy? Had I accidentally made friends even though I hadn't meant to, and could I have a real support network in the kids at school? Was putting up with Hogwarts for at least another ten months until I was considered an adult really going to break me?

Long before I got to the train station, I'd changed my mind. I hoped I wasn't going to regret it, but I spent my traveling money on a few more quality-of-life improvements at the first store I came to, then apparated back to Hogwarts.