Hermione prepares to meet her new bodyguard, but how will she explain who they are to Ron and Harry?
Friday 27th September 1996, 07:23 am
Dear Diary,
I can't believe that I'm saying this, but I had a nice time with my grandmother last night, and all that worry about not being able to get on with her was for nothing (as per usual). After dinner, which was amazing and far tastier than what we get at Hogwarts (which is saying a lot ), me and her spent the time catching up on the past seventeen years. And despite her initial frosty exterior, Beatrice is easy to talk to, and it turns out she loves to discuss her side of my family.
And I was enthralled with the conversation. So much so that I almost forgot that Professor McGonagall had given me a curfew until an old house-elf hurried over to remind me that it was time to leave. I was stunned that the time had passed by so fast that I didn't have a chance to ask Beatrice whether she paid the elf. I'll have to add that to my list. I hope she does look after the elf well; I know how lousily pure-blood families can treat their house-elves, and I wouldn't want to be a part of one that abuses the poor creatures. That's not what I stand for.
Anyway, I made it back to the mouldy old beach bag only a second before it began glowing blue again and grabbed hold of it. As it whisked me away, I felt a pang of regret—there were still a lot of questions on my list that I didn't even get a chance to ask.
Queen Beatrice told me all about my father, including what he was like when he was my age. He enjoyed studying, books, and politics. Even at a young age, his biggest passion had been fighting for equal rights across all blood classes, and, as soon as Hugo took the crown when he was seventeen, he made it his first purpose as the prince of Magical Britain. It's a shame he didn't get to see it through.
If I decide to take the throne, I think I'd like to carry on the good work he started. As well as continuing to pursue what I started with S.P.E.W a couple of years ago.
My grandmother gave me a pile of books to work through from her private collection, but they came with a warning. She said it would be easy to get absorbed in them and forget to live, but 'the past is a story we should use to better the future.'
That's such a royal thing to say. I wonder if I will ever be that profound?
Next, Queen Beatrice outlined what it might mean for me to take the crown. She wants me to be as well-informed as possible so that I can make an unbiased decision. She even encouraged me to talk to my mum about it too.
That reminds me, I should send an owl to Mum to tell her what I decided with the queen. She'll want to know all about the princess lessons. I wonder if I could make her a royal advisor? I at least want her to come to the ball with me. I can't imagine doing that without her by my side, whatever I should choose.
I wonder if I'm going to need a date to the ball? Maybe I could ask Ron?
Oh, I found out what my name will be if I decide to become a princess, and I was right: Hermione Jean Beatrice Windsor Sherington Granger, Crown Princess of Magical Britain.
What a mouthful!
Did you know that Windsor is also the surname of the Muggle Royal Family? When I asked Beatrice about this, she laughed and told me all about when my great grandmother, Queen Clarisse, met King George the Fifth in 1916. He was enamoured by her and her name. His name was originally George Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, almost as much of a tongue twister as my name-to-be, but it doesn't sound very British. The king decided that Windsor was much better and took it for his own without Clarisse's permission.
What is with royals and crazy long names, anyway? Post-November, if I decide to take the throne, I'm going to have to plead with Professor McGonagall to keep Hermione Granger on the school records. Otherwise, it'll be a considerable feat every time a teacher takes attendance in class.
You'll never guess who greeted me on my return to Hogwarts? Yes, you're right. It was Snape. The worst person ever! The Portkey managed to dump me unceremoniously at his feet, and for a moment I was worried I might have squished his toes or something. But he simply sneered at me then made his way back up to the castle without even checking if I was okay.
Not that I expected anything less from him. I mean, why change the habits of a lifetime? I don't even know why he bothers to teach if he doesn't even like students. Fortunately, he abandoned me in the Entrance Hall, and I made my own way up to the common room, which was quiet, by the time I got to it.
Anyway, Beatrice and I agreed that princess lessons will begin tomorrow morning, between nine and twelve at Ballindalloch castle, which is kind of good, since I don't fancy having someone walk in on one of our sessions and wonder what on earth is going on. I need to be careful, though, with all this traveling back and forth, especially because I haven't started apparition lessons yet. Hopefully, Professor McGonagall will trust me to get myself to my Portkey going forward.
The lessons will take place every Saturday from now until my grandmother feels I no longer need them but at least until the ball at the end of November. I'm kind of glad that they're the first thing in the morning. Ron and Harry like to have a lie-in on the weekend, which means I'll have time to get back to the castle, grab a quick lunch then spend time with them before they miss me too much. Tomorrow afternoon, they want to go into Hogsmeade again, although I'm not sure why since they bought almost all of Honeydukes last weekend.
Balancing my extracurricular lessons, homework, and the little social life I have will be difficult, especially because I can't tell the boys what I'm up to.
And of course, now that I've been given the missive not to tell them about me being a part of the royal family, I have the strongest urge to let them know what's going on. I'm irrationally annoyed about that, but I guess I should get used to having my life controlled a little more than I'm comfortable with.
I wonder if I could persuade them to take an Unbreakable Vow, and then I could spill the secret? Or is that a little too extreme?
I'm currently waiting for Ron and Harry to join me in the common room. I managed to persuade them to meet me early and have breakfast before anyone else wakes up. All it took was the threat of withdrawing my help with their homework to motivate them.
My plan has worked, too. Everyone else in my dormitory was still asleep when I left, and Lavender is the most important person for me to avoid this morning. At eight, I have to go and meet the Order of the Phoenix member assigned to escort me around the castle from now on.
As if I wasn't already on the bottom of the pile as far as my popularity is. Everyone already thinks I'm a weirdo, and now there will be a grown wizard in a brilliant red uniform tailing me. I'm not even sure what my grandmother is thinking. Sure, the castle is full of scary and dangerous creatures and cupboards and boobytraps, but only a handful of students have died from them.
A bodyguard will make it a lot harder for me to keep the news of me being a princess secret. And how on earth will I explain it to Harry and Ron? This Order member will be involved in their lives too from now on.
It was hard enough for me to bribe them to meet me early for breakfast this morning, and now I'm all out of excuses.
Potential reasons for being escorted around Hogwarts
* A Muggle TV company wants to make a documentary about me (this would break the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, plus it would be utterly pointless as magical folk don't have a TV).
* The Ministry is considering me for an academic award but must assess all my lessons and grades first (this could potentially be the winner, and ties in with what I told Ron the other day although which award? Also, it's scary how often this comes up in my lists).
And that's it. Two reasons. I'm supposed to be the brightest witch of my age, and two lame excuses for having a bodyguard is all I can come up with?!
It doesn't matter anyway. Whatever reason I decide on is not going to eradicate the fact that having a big, burly bodyguard following me around will attract a lot of attention. My only hope is that I can rush through breakfast, make it to Potions, and get settled in my usual seat before Lavender, Cormac, and their airhead gang even wake up.
At least with having a member of the Order tailing me, I have a chance to get the Draught of Living Death right, since they're supposed to be a group of the brightest wizards and witches in the country. Today is my final chance to nail it, or Slughorn might fail me. I'm not sure how I'd cope with anything less than an A on my record.
If I do manage to get it right, though, it would show Harry who's the best at Potions. At least I don't have to resort to an illegal textbook to help me.
I can hear footsteps on the stairs. Let's hope it's the boys. I'm getting more and more nervous with each tick of the clock.
Until I remember to write again x
Harry and Ron burst into the Gryffindor common room with a cacophony of accompanying sound. It's like they have set off an entire crate of Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs. Whatever joke they're sharing, the laughter follows them to the sofa Hermione is sitting on.
She stuffs her diary into her bag and gets to her feet, pasting a massive smile on her face. "And what time do you call this?"
"Good morning to you too, 'Mione," Ron says, then follows his words with a loud yawn and a long stretch. "Remind us why we're going to breakfast this early?"
Ron's reminder of their unusual mealtime sends a herd of Hippogriffs thundering through her stomach at the thought of meeting her new bodyguard, but she tries to ignore it.
"I wanted to get off on the right foot today, especially because it's our last lesson on the Draught of Living Death." She moves towards the portrait hole, muttering a quick hello to the Fat Lady before waiting for her to swing open for them. "Plus we have a long day of lessons ahead of us and Slug Club this evening. We need a good breakfast."
"You mean you and Harry have Slug Club," Ron murmurs. He drags his feet as he walks, making it clear that he's still pissed off over the fact that Harry, Hermione and Ginny were picked for Slughorn's elite group of students, but not him.
"Yes, we have to go and suffer Slughorn and his pompous pals whilst you get to stay in the common room and have fun."
It's a conversation they've had at least once a week since they boarded the train to Hogwarts and the professor invited them to his carriage for the inaugural gathering. Ron has not stopped moaning about the injustice of not being chosen, not helped by the fact that Professor Slughorn still hasn't mastered Ron's real name despite multiple corrections.
If Hermione had her own way, she wouldn't even be a part of the group. She could do with the extra time for all her additional commitments, on top of her heavy study load. Plus she would much prefer to be spending time with Ron than a bunch of students that don't even like her.
"Anyway, before we get down to the Great Hall," she continues, "I have to warn you that—"
"Wotcher, Hermione!"
Hermione freezes with a frown and turns in time to see an unknown Gryffindor student hurrying towards them. The stranger looks to be about the same age as the trio, with bubblegum pink hair cut into a short crop. Her robes drape off her shoulders and drag on the floor. In the student's haste to get to Hermione, she trips over them and scrambles to catch her balance. Ron's outstretched arm saves the student before she hits the floor, and Hermione feels a jealous sensation burning deep in her belly as the stranger blinks up at the redhead.
"Good catch," the intruder sighs.
The sharpness of Hermione's voice surprises her as she asks, "Can I help you?"
To Hermione's relief, the Gryffindor lets go of Ron and pulls her robes onto her shoulders. Hermione longs to snap at the girl and tell her to sort her tie out too, but she bites her tongue for now. After wiping her hand on her skirt, the student offers it to Hermione.
"Uhm, yes, you can. I am Tonks. I'm a transfer student from Ilvermorny and Professor McGonagall said I should follow you around, learn the ropes."
Tonks' eyes are wide and earnest, but it does nothing to untangle the knots of confusion in Hermione's head as she surveys the girl. She's never seen her before in her life, and McGonagall didn't mention anything about Hermione buddying up with a new student. There isn't even space in their dormitory for another bed.
A wave of frustration travels through Hermione's veins. She has so much other work to get on with, even without her princess lessons and the stress of meeting her new bodyguard and the thought of having to help this Tonks, if that's even her real name, through her first couple of weeks at Hogwarts makes Hermione's bones ache with fatigue.
Then the young witch taps a small badge on the lapel of her robes, drawing Hermione's attention to it. A phoenix in flight, the same one on Kinglsey's uniform yesterday. The whirring cogs in her brain click into place.
"Oh yes." She shakes the girl's hand. "Professor McGonagall said that you know Beatrice?"
A huge grin appears on Tonk's face as she realises Hermione caught on to her clue. "That's right. It is okay for me to shadow you, right?"
It's a good plan, in principle. Although Hogwarts hasn't seen a transfer student in a long while, it's not entirely unheard of. Still, seeds of doubts creep their way past the relief of not having Kingsley following her every move. Surely, the other students in Gryffindor will grow concerned when Tonks disappears after Hermione is safely in the common room at night. Won't they notice that she doesn't sleep in the dormitories with the rest of the sixth year students? Won't that look suspicious?
Hermione adds all these questions to the list in her head, promising herself that she'll write them down as soon as she gets the chance. She has a free period later, which will be the perfect time to quiz Tonks.
"Well, this is Harry and Ron, my best friends." She gestures to the boys, who raise their hands in a silent welcome. "We're heading down for breakfast, have you eaten yet?"
"No, not yet. I'm starving, too."
With one last glance and a shrug at her friends, Hermione walks past Tonks then heads to the moving staircases, smiling as the boys and her new bodyguard fall into step with her. Despite her initial warm welcome to the Order member, Hermione feels awkward knowing why Tonks is here. Being watched over is an uncomfortable experience for a witch, especially as she's now of age. It's almost like a backward step for her.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione can see Ron and Harry exchanging amused looks. She's dreading the moment they get her alone and quiz her about her new friend. But at least she'll have time to prepare.
⁂
Breakfast is a disaster.
Tonks is the clumsiest person Hermione has ever met. It's a surprise that the Order chose the young Auror to escort Hermione, given the mess she makes. Food flies everywhere as the Order member fills her plate and talks through the sitting, even with her mouth full. More than once, she almost knocks over a jug of juice with her wild gesticulations.
Even more annoying is the fact that Tonks gets on far too well with Harry and Ron.
By the time they make it to Potions, Hermione is exhausted. Tonks might be a little too much for the young witch, who is already contemplating writing to her grandmother to ask for a replacement.
Even Kingsley would be better than this.
Slughorn has seemingly been briefed about Hermione's security detail, as he doesn't blink an eyelid when the Auror follows the trio into the dungeon. Despite Queen Beatrice's promise that the bodyguard will be discreet, Tonks settles in a seat next to Hermione and takes an active interest in the potion she's brewing.
"If I were you," she comments, whilst peering over at Hermione's cauldron, "I'd take your time when you stir. You're racing through that section, causing the liquid to become overactive."
Hermione raises her eyebrows but does as she's told, delighting as her potion turns the right shade of lilac.
"That's genius," she gushes, a huge smile appearing on her face. "Such a simple move, yet it seems to have made all the difference."
"I could have told you that," Harry interjects, ignoring the warning look Ron gives him.
Hermione dismisses her dark-haired friend with a wave. She hates the fact that the Half-Blood Prince might be right for once. Acknowledging Harry's point would be like admitting defeat.
"Five minutes before the bell," Slughorn calls. "Let's see how your potions have fared."
The portly professor moves slowly around the room, dropping leaves into each vial presented at the end of each desk, then tutting or shaking his head at the results. Hermione watches him closely, her heart thudding against her rib cage as he draws nearer to their desk.
After what feels like an agonising wait, Professor Slughorn makes it to Ron, Harry and Hermione's station. Ron's leaf bobs on top of the liquid, turning various shades of red, gold and orange before finally settling on black. However, it doesn't disintegrate.
"Nice try, Wallenby, but not quite there. An effort worthy of an A, nonetheless."
Hermione clenches and unclenches her fists as he moves on to her potion. The leaf stays the same colour, but slowly, the tips of each apex dissolve.
"Brilliant, Miss Granger," Slughorn gushes. "An excellent attempt. I knew you'd get there eventually. Exceeds Expectations for you."
Of course, the leaf disappears almost immediately when the professor reaches Harry. "Outstanding! This potion is perfect; one drop could kill us all! Please be careful when tidying up Harry, I don't want you to be responsible for the entire annihilation of the sixth year."
Slughorn chuckles to himself as he retreats to his desk at the front of the classroom, much to Hermione's chagrin.
"Next week, we'll be moving on to the Elixir to Induce Euphoria. Please come to class on Monday prepared by revising the recipe and taking notes on its uses. Thank you, class dismissed."
The success at the potion brewing buoys Hermione's mood, and for the first time since she woke on her seventeenth birthday, she feels like herself again.
⁂
After emerging from the dark and gloomy dungeons and saying goodbye to Ron and Harry at the Entrance Hall, she chooses to head out to the Clock Tower Courtyard with Tonks instead of hiding away in the library. The small cloister is a bit more rundown than other outside areas of the castle, and fewer students visit it, affording them enough privacy for Hermione to grill her minder.
She picks a stone bench on the opposite side of the space and settles on it, turning her face up to the sun and closing her eyes. It's peaceful here, with the water feature trickling away and the sound of the light breeze ruffling the small bushes and plants in the courtyard. The air is fresh, filling Hermione's lungs with a sharp but clean breath.
Although the end of the month brings a cold chill, Hermione is looking forward to it. She loves wearing jeans and knitted jumpers and studying in front of the fire in the common room, even though it can get too cold in the castle as the winter draws in.
"I haven't been here in an age," Tonks says with a happy sigh as she sits next to Hermione. "I loved my time in the castle."
Hermione smiles and pivots her body more towards Tonks to watch the older witch better. "You were a student here?"
"Once upon a time, yeah. I was in Hufflepuff. Graduated five years ago now, although it doesn't feel that long ago."
"Oh, I thought you might have been closer to our age. Still, twenty-three seems quite young to be in the Order?"
Tonks chuckles before nodding. "I think I'm the youngest member. Despite my clumsiness, I made it onto the Auror programme and trained under Mad-Eye Moody himself. He's a fantastic wizard. I can't wait for you to meet him. Anyway, Alastor does the occasional job for the Order, and he's a great friend of Kingsley, who I think you met last night? They suggested that I might join the Order as an escort for you since he thought we might have more things in common.
"I only graduated from the programme two years ago, and I've been working as a junior Auror since. You're safe, though. Although I'm not experienced like Kingsley and the others, there's nothing in this school I can't handle."
"What made you decide to shift from the Auror department to the Order?"
"Well that's easy." Tonks leans back on her hands and kicks out her legs, basking in the early Autumn sun. "I grew up on the stories about your family, and it's sad that Queen Beatrice has had to hide away for so long. I think it'll do wonders for our community to have a Princess on the throne again."
"No pressure then," Hermione mumbles.
Tonks sits upright again and looks at Hermione. "I think you'll do a great job. I've had a look at your casefile, and we stand for the same things. And from what I've heard about Prince Hugo, you'll be as good as him."
"If I decide to take the throne."
"If you decide?"
Hermione sighs. "I'm not exactly popular, I don't get on with a lot of my classmates. How will that make me a good princess?"
"I didn't fit in while I was at school either. You see, I'm incredibly clumsy and a Metamorphmagus."
"You can shape-shift?" Hermione gasps. "That's cool! That explains why you did well in the Auror Academy, then!"
"Yep! I passed the disguise and concealment portion of the training without any study!"
Blowing out a hard puff of air in amazement, Hermione feels herself relaxing. She can't help but warm to this woman, who is full of life and always cheerful. Maybe she'll rub off on her and help her be a better potential princess?
"Ron and Harry will be desperate to chat with you. I think they plan on being Aurors."
"Yeah, but they're not allowed to know my true identity yet. As soon as the news about you is released, I'll be happy to chat with them."
"I'm not sure I want everyone to know." Hermione sighs.
"My briefing says that you have until the ball to make a decision?" Tonks asks. "How do you feel about it all?"
Hermione runs her hand through her hair then lets out a sharp exhale. "How long have you got?"