FATHER
Chapter 9 - Hermione
Diagon Alley was crowded full of people and Elodie hung tight to her hand, even when she insisted on pulling Hermione over to the windows of every shop, gleaming with Christmas decorations and twined all about with holly and small twinkling lights which giggled away when she tried to reach for them.
"So, what do you think?" Hermione asked when they'd manage to squeeze into a table at the teahouse and sit huddled in their coats clutching at teacups.
"It's magical", Elodie said in an uncharacteristic display of dreaminess. Under the table were bags of shopping and though the maitre d' had offered to put them in the cloakroom, Elodie had point blank refused. They were not to be let out of her sight.
There with Fizzing Wizzbees and Croaking Toads and at least three packs of Berty Bott's Every Flavoured Beans. Honeydukes chocolate and butterbeer flavoured truffles which Elodie had insisted they buy for Harry and Ginny. There was soft soled slippers laced with warming charms and a woollen hat which sang when it snowed, and a scarf which Elodie had insisted that Hermione buy because 'the green matches your eyes, mummy'.
Hermione was exhausted. Not just from the shopping and the excitement of her pre-teen daughter, but from the constant smile which she had needed to keep glued to her face as witch after wizard had approached her and shaken her hand. They had not forgotten her services, they told her repeatedly. The wizarding world was in her debt. An Order of Merlin was not enough for her services to the nation.
Elodie had stared up at them with large eyes, looking from stranger to her mother with an open mouth. Now as they sat sharing a slice of coffee cake Elodie twisted her mouth and looked up at her.
"Why did all those people want to shake your hand?"
Hermione had prepared herself for the question but she still felt uncomfortable as she finished chewing on her cake. Elodie was staring at her questioningly.
"I told you about the war that happened before you were born". Elodie nodded. "Well, Harry was the leader of it, of the side that we fought for".
She'd never told Elodie the ins and outs of the war that had consumed her seventh year; she'd tried to protect her daughter as much as possible from knowing that there was some evil in the world that could only ever be conquered with force. Still, something restrained her from labelling her side as the 'good' one. It could never be that black and white. Her old potion's professor had been a living example of just that fact.
But it was only a matter of time before Elodie would know more about what Hermione had done and the role she'd played in the war. It was inevitable. Children talked and though the name Granger might not have been as famous as Potter, it was still recognisable over a decade later.
"I helped Harry, with others of course, but well, people remember that I guess".
"So they shake Harry's hand too? I don't think I'd want to keep going out shopping if I had to keep stopping to talk to people every ten seconds".
Hermione laughed and sipped her tea. "Don't worry, it'll stop eventually, just the same as it did with Harry. They're only doing it now because they didn't get to when the war ended".
"Because you moved away".
"Because I moved away", Hermione echoed.
Elodie nodded, looking deep in thought for a moment. "What's an Order of Merlin?"
"It's an award they give to people who have done good things".
"Like what? That man on the street who dropped his purse. Would I get one for giving it back?"
Hermione smiled and placed a hand on her daughter's head. "Not quite, but that was still a very good thing you did. Now come on, finish up your cake and we can get back home before it gets dark".
As they left the shop, the first flakes of fat snow drifted lazily from the sky. Orange light gleamed across the cobblestones in the semi-darkness, the shadows casting lattice patterns against the worn cobbles. From somewhere down the street there was the sound of carollers though their words were too indistinct to catch the tune.
Elodie raced forward and tugged off her mittens, catching the snow on her hand before it melted against her warm palms.
"Look mum, it's snowing!"
"So it is", Hermione says, laughing as her daughter spinned and pirouetted in the street. A few families passed and smiled warmly at the sight. Hermione smiled too and for the first time the cobwebs of doubt that returning was really the right thing to do, blew away.
"Can we look in one more shop, mummy? Pretty please?" Elodie begged as she lurched back over to Hermione, grasping her hand with fingers which were now freezing cold and wet. Hermione rolled her eyes but grinned all the same.
"Fine, come on then. One more".
Elodie's eyes darted round excitedly until they landed on a much older shop tucked back from the street. The faded lettering above its door was nearly disappeared and in the going light, near on impossible to read. Unlike the other shops in Diagon Alley, its windows were whorled and though they cast out a cheerful glow, the contents of the shop were obscured. But despite it, Hermione had never once forgotten the wondrous feeling of being behind that door, shuttered off from the street as a pale eyed man stared down at her and handed her something alive with magic.
"You're sure?"
Elodie nodded quickly. "Yes, I'm sure".