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So far... The reborn Hermione befriended Harry and family (Sirius & Hestia,) but 7-year-old Neville is jealous of the extra attention she shows Harry and angrily departs. Meanwhile she has been recruiting supporters (Barty Crouch Sr, Mike Worthing, and the Gairs) to root out Ministry corruption, but after discovering she is only a little girl they are all furious and she is thrown out. Now read on...

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Chapter 14

An Offer He Can't Refuse


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Failing Neville

They say Time heals all, but even Christmas with Harry had not raised Hermione's spirits, and the new year held no promise for her as she gazed down from her bedroom window during a still, crisp night, early in January. The frosted lawn might have looked fragile and pretty on a better day, but now its icy face seemed merely unyielding and hostile.

What was she to do about Neville? Why had he changed so much? Harry insisted Neville was only shy and nervous with her, but he'd never been infatuated in her former life.

Or had he?

Another Christmas came to mind, and her soft groan misted roundly on the glazing ... then gently and silently faded away. Neville had asked her to the Yule Ball in their fourth year! Struggling to remember what had seemed then of such little consequence, she attempted to visualise his face at fourteen years old. Slightly chubby, eyes glancing away – yet still he'd had the nerve to ask her, while Ron...

An intense flash of anger fuelled by misery made the window pane rattle from accidental magic – but it was irritation with herself. She'd been miserable and distracted by Ron not asking her, so she'd not only accepted Viktor Krum's invitation but lightly dismissed Neville with a "I'm already going with someone." Then she'd merely continued reading, deeply immersed in that stupid book, Dazzling Dances For Debutants instead of softening the blow with a few kind words. How thoughtless and cruel her action seemed now to value pages before people! At the time she'd never considered how much he might suffer from the rejection. Perhaps he'd been mortified, heartbroken?

Instinctively, she placed her hand on the cold glass to reassure herself the window hadn't cracked then turned away from the cold night, back to her warm bed.

Still, at least at fourteen, he'd been old enough to handle it, and asked Ginny instead. But now, only seven? And raised without any experience of girls? That must be it. He'd formed an instant attachment to her that he could neither understand nor manage, so instinctively he was hiding from the source of the pain – herself!

She scrunched up in a tight ball under the blankets, wishing, just wishing, she could have been someone better deserving of this second chance at life, and not having to hurt friends with her domineering attitude.

Poor Neville! To make matters worse, she had focused on Harry. 'Harry this, Harry that!' he'd shouted, and 'You just see me as someone to give Harry extra protection!'

The tragedy was that he'd been right. She had failed Neville.

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Plan B

During the early months of the new year, Plan B evolved. Mankind in general were doomed but with her foreknowledge, she might at least save her friends and their families in some future magical enclave. The unplottable, unnamed, ravens' isle would be a good candidate, nor was the Moon beyond her capabilities if she put her mind and magic to it. Most, but not all, was lost.

Harry was still occasionally invited to visit Neville – though the latter never came to the Blacks while Hermione was there. Perhaps she could encourage Harry and Neville's independent friendship while she took that as an excuse to be away completing another quest – and hopefully restoring another reliable friendship.

Yes, that formidable task would keep her away for weeks or perhaps months. She could explain to Harry he might draw out Neville while she was gone! Harry would then not be lonely during her trip. Neville would slip back into a routine of visiting Grimmauld Place regularly. He'd half-forget about her. She'd hug him on her return, apologise, and make a lot of fuss over him during the ensuing years. And Ginny! Ultimately, if her scheming worked out, she could introduce him to the girl he once took to the ball! Surely he'd fall for her again and lose all interest in herself!

Somewhat cheered, Hermione went to have a long talk with her father about the next stage of her plan. The world's garden might decline into wilderness, but she could at least clear an area of weeds for her nearest and dearest.

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Uncommon Sense

Xenophilius Lovegood's anxious stare wavered up and down between the clock on the ceiling and the letter in his hand which he read to himself yet again with a kind of astonished hope:

Dear Mr Lovegood,

I request your indulgence. My young daughter has an intense hunger for knowledge of all kinds and has recently been devastated by having to return a privately-loaned volume of Unusual Scandinavian Fauna by Erasmus Darwin. Knowing of your expertise in this field, she has pestered me to write to you in the hope you might possess a copy of the book from which she might take notes. The information on Snorkack Communis is of special interest to her because of the location and the potential of protecting its lesser-known subspecies from extinction.

Should you be agreeable, we would be delighted to make an appointment at your convenience and on your terms.

Hoping to hear from you by return owl,

I am yours sincerely,

Edward Granger

Mr Lovegood's head jerked upwards. "PANDORA!"

At his thunderous bellow, the horizontal clock fell from the beam above and into the hat which Xeno had swiftly held out before him. He placed them both on the round sideboard in the corner.

"Whatever's the matter?" His wife stood on the metal circular staircase peering down, wand in hand. When she saw her husband wordlessly waving a parchment at her, she joined him.

"Look at this," was all he could breathlessly say.

She did so, reading the letter aloud. "Have you got this book?"

"No."

"Well then, tell them so, and that's an end to it."

"You don't understand – irreplaceable knowledge lost–"

"Ten fifteen," came a muffled, clickety kind of voice from the hat.

"Husband, dear," she interrupted, "what is the clock doing turned over in your hat?"

"Uuhmm... oh, yes, because it fell face down. Listen, this–"

"I think you should ask them over," piped up yet another voice, this time from inside the sideboard. Its doors swung open.

"Luna," said Mrs Lovegood, with forced patience, "how many times do I have to tell you, you are not a Niffler, and there's no treasure to be found in that cupboard."

"Well I did overhear that the little girl in Daddy's letter sounds nice – so that's a kind of discovery of treasure, don't you think?" said Luna. "We ought to help her."

"What's the point in her coming if we don't have the book," said Mrs Lovegood, "and neither does she now?"

"But she's read it," Luna smiled serenely. "Daddy, you could ask her what she remembers."

Mr Lovegood's eyes widened. "That's right."

"Why would she come over?" persisted Mrs Lovegood. "We don't have the book."

"We know that – but she doesn't." Luna was gazing dreamily into the hat.

"Luna, darling, please... I know what you're thinking but... please don't get your hopes up. Mr Granger's daughter sounds very... uuh... intellectual. Perhaps she... perhaps she already has plenty of friends of her own."

Luna dipped her face right into the big hat to stare at the back of the clock close up. "If all clocks wore hats then the world could save on hatstands because everyone has a clock."

Mrs Lovegood smiled and shook her head. "Oh, Luna..."

"So, what d'you think, Dorry?" said Xeno.

"Why not?" his wife replied. "Ask the Grangers over. Perhaps the girl can teach Luna some common sense by example."

Luna pulled her face out of the hat so she could frown properly. "Why would anyone want their sense to be common?"

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The Colour of the Universe

The beginning of Spring was a little overcast yet bright, dry, and only slightly cool – ideal for getting the best out of rusty joints. The Lovegood's garden gate creaked and squeaked musically in her ears as Luna swung upon it. She tried not to fix her gaze directly down the hill to the thread of grey that linked Ottery and Brandon Wo; it was more fun to discipline herself to the natural rhythm of the gate and look only once each swing.

"Four hundred and forty-one... Four hundred and forty-two..."

The toe of one shoe crunched along the dirt-and-gravel as the little girl braked to a halt. Colour was streaking and smearing the distant road. It reminded her of a watercolour jar where every colour blended into a dirty purple. Funny, that, she mused while peering down the slope, purple must be the colour of the universe because no matter what seven paints you mix, they all turn out dark purple. Dirty purple was one of her favourite colours, and she had hundreds of favourites. And now here was the dull road being brightened up with the off-regal tint!

The young witch knew what it must be, of course. She called it the Dame Bus even though it was the Knight Bus, because it seemed only fair during daylight. She waved – not that she could ever hope to see anyone wave back from so far off. The bobbling, bouncing dots that appeared when the vehicle briefly halted and sped away were all you ever saw from up here on the hill. It taught her patience: watching with growing excitement as the dots grew larger until – just as they passed the scrubby hedge beyond the second pasture they seemed to sprout arms and legs! Luna loved that moment: humble beans turning into human beings as they drew nearer. Distance was magic! She waved again at the beans-being-beings.

A shout came back – a greeting! It was the littlest bean, the one with a floaty bush on its head running ahead towards her. Luna ran down with her own welcome.

"HULLOOOO! You're the Grangers! I was watching almost five hundred swings for you."

"Oh, th-thank y-you, so much!" puffed Hermione as she scampered up the increasingly-steep track. She had no idea what Luna was talking about, but was elated by that oh-so-familiar bewilderment the girl aroused. "Luna... Luna... Luna..."

The sky was a vivid, diffused light crowning the hill but little Luna's hair surpassed it as a resplendent luminous drift caping her shoulders. It had been that way when MacNair and Jugson's men torched and levelled the family home then nailed Luna twixt the blackened doorpost stumps and took her... broke her every way... left her hanging there to die several dreadful days.

Hermione burst into tears. "I'm s-so glad y-you ... are ... haven't..."

Luna's large eyes widened even further and she grasped Hermione's hands as she drew near. "It's excitement about the Snorkacks, isn't it! I love them too! Let's go inside – we have so much to share!"

With a nod and an excited 'come-on!' wave at Hermione's parents who were making their way upwards at a more leisurely pace, Luna – still holding Hermione's hand, led her back to the house. Hermione paused at the threshold, running her fingers over the present reality of the now-brightly-painted doorway.

Luna watched her with curiosity. "You like things, don't you? So do I. All the wonders of the world. I'm going to explore everything when I grow up. I have a confession to make."

Hermione's attention was caught, and her gaze turned to the blonde witch-child who was showing no guilt as she continued, "We don't have the book." – she did not pause to observe Hermione's reaction – "I wanted you to come here so badly, I made Daddy invite you as if we had. It wasn't his fault. He didn't actually say we have it, did he? So it wasn't a lie. But even so there was a risk of disappointing you for which I'm truly sorry. If you like you can do one bad thing at me to make up for it." She turned her cheek, appearing to invite Hermione to slap it.

Open-mouthed, Hermione stared in astonishment after the admission. She was not at all surprised the Lovegoods did not possess that particular book of Darwin's – the only known volume of the blasphemy would not be uncovered for many more decades – but she'd expected Xeno to be the one to contrive today's meeting. "Very well, then you must forfeit by keeping my own confession absolutely secret: I already knew you didn't have the book."

Blinking only once, the diminutive seven-year-old swore to hold the confidence 'eternally secure within her bosom', and the pair went inside hand-in-hand – mutual trust can sometimes have that influence on children.

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Fable

"We're living in a fairytale, Anne," breathed Edward Granger as he and his wife walked up the hill towards the Lovegood's extraordinary round tower-house. "That bus... and now..."

Anne smiled, her fingers entwined with her husband's. "You're right – it's surreal. Our child told us of people living miles away in a magical tower at a location she could never have known about, yet here is the reality. And we're invited to discuss mythical creatures that are only documented in a single book that hasn't even been discovered yet! Can they be real?"

Edward answered with barely a shrug. They both watched as their daughter disappeared inside the home accompanied by a little girl with long straggly blonde hair. Further to the right of the house, beyond a small fruit orchard, gold and silver flashed – as if a fragment of sun had broken through the hazy sky for that one moment... then was gone.

Anne frowned. "Shouldn't we be more cautious? And yet I don't feel at all concerned to see Hermione meeting folk as eccentric as their letter indicated."

"She's in her element. We're the ones who are out of our depth," said Edward, adding as a nervous afterthought, "Remember her warning? Did you bring the sweetener?"

"Oh, yes." Mrs Granger patted her handbag reassuringly.

When they reached the curious building, Mr Granger called out politely. "Hello? Anyone home?" The door was only half open and they craned their necks to see inside.

"Hah–ha!"

A slightly green face with a hooked nose had appeared, craning around the door the opposite way so closely that the Grangers took a step back in alarm.

"Come in, do come into the warm!" cackled the woman. "You didn't feed the foal on your way up did you? Luna's caring for her until May. I only mention it because the gooseberries are nowhere near ripe enough."

The door was quickly pulled open and she stood to one side, raking in the visitors with long, dark-painted fingernails. The odd woman wore robes of black and on her head was a conventional pointed witch's hat.

She responded to their startled expressions. "Oh, this?" she said, pointing to the tip of her hat. "Helps me concentrate on my magic." She cackled again and the same fingernail – depicting a tiny seven-legged octopus – moved to her curiously pale olive complexion. "Didn't work too well this time, did it! I was trying to look young and guileless to put you at your ease, but only swallowed a lot of smoke instead." This time her cackle was more of a dry cough.

She pulled off the hat, shook out her long dark-blonde hair, then guided them within the family gathering. "I'm Pandora Lovegood, and this is my husband, Xenophilius."

The remaining introductions were followed quickly by the offering of warm refreshments.

"Oh, Xeno," cried Mrs Lovegood, "you know Gurdyroot is an acquired taste. Here, you two, try my strong brew instead – it's excellent for throats." Pandora began to pour from a big old teapot while Xeno sipped on a mug of steaming beetroot-coloured liquid then smacked his lips. Luna and Hermione sat on the rug before the fire watching the sparks and chatting quietly together.

"Well, they seem to have hit it off together," smiled Edward as he and Anne plonked sweetener cubes into their beverages.

She nudged him, and Edward looked up to see Pandora's astonished gaze. "Oh, this sweetener?" he said. "I suppose we could call it Muggle sugar – sweetens without harming your teeth and it's–"

"Nooooh!" mouthed Hermione, who was now on her feet, shaking her head and gesturing at the jug of Gurdyroot infusion.

"Aah, I see." Mrs Lovegood took a gulp of her own drink to hide what might have been a grin. "Forgive my staring but I was surprised you needed ten lumps in one cup of ordinary tea."

"Tea?" said Anne, weakly. She grimaced and stopped stirring, glancing at Hermione for a diversion from her embarrassment, but it was Luna who changed the topic of conversation.

"Daddy, I told Hermione we haven't got the book," she said. Her face was glowing before the hot coals. "But we can still share what we know."

"Quite right," said Mr Lovegood. He turned to Mr Granger. "I do apologise for not stating so specifically in my reply to your charming letter but–"

"But we were anxious," cut in Pandora, "to meet you and exchange what knowledge we do have."

"Thank you, my dear," said Mr Lovegood, gravely. "That is it, exactly. So, uuh..."

"Perhaps I ought to start us off," said Hermione, taking a place at the table where the adults were assembled.

All eyes turned to her. Luna joined Hermione and poured herself a goblet of Gurdyroot infusion to which she began transferring a great many lumps of sugar. Anne watched mesmerised until the last lump of sugar stood proud of the surface of Luna's drink, then slowly toppled over and dissolved before Hermione continued:

"I have quite a good recollection of the book by Darwin – at least, the section about the common Snorkack."

"Ah yes, the common Snorkack. We had wondered..."

"The name is misleading for they are quite rare, Mr Lovegood; probably only a few herds exist, and I know of only one of them."

Xeno's hands began to shake and he steadied his mug nervously. "You know?"

"Yes, the location of the one described in the book corresponds with a sighting reported in the second quarter of Kung Zoologiska Chroniclen for 1981"

Everyone stared blankly so Hermione continued, "It's a Muggle Journal, so I'm not surprised if you've never heard of it. But as you do know, the creatures are visibly ephemeral even to magicals so it is almost unknown for a Muggle to see one, particularly since the creatures indulge themselves in and around the ice swamps so much – perhaps the creature was slush-muddy and steaming. Of course, the observer had no idea what it was she had seen but I could tell at once from the description that it was a common Snorkack. Naturally, that is the start point for any search for a Crumple-horn."

Mr Lovegood croaked, "And you... know the location?"

"Yes, its positioned well inside the dwarf birch forests in a mountainous area in the south of Sweden. The entire area is under Muggle protection to be preserved as wilderness for at least another century. It's incredibly difficult for Muggles to get permission and then painfully hard to penetrate to the centre anyway, even in the summer so–"

"Which brings us," interrupted Edward, responding to Hermione's cue, "to the main reason for our visit. We have come into a little extra money recently" – he glanced meaningfully at Hermione – "and have been considering funding a research expedition for our daughter when the warmer weather arrives – a kind of holiday project you understand – and wish to consult with you on the matter. Hermione knows the geographical coordinates but we'd need an experienced guide to manage the enterprise and get us there – someone sworn to keep the place secret because we don't want anyone hunting the Snorkacks for trophies. Of course, bringing back a few photographs would be acceptable."

The mug in Xeno's hand rattled as he lowered it onto the tray. The man rose jerkily to his feet, and his voice trembled when he spoke. "Sir, I would consider it an honour to offer my services in leading this excursion. I do have extensive knowledge of magical wildlife and my observations have taken me to many countries. In return, I request only the right to publish the information gathered – except for the location, of course – and any photographs we might be fortunate enough to take. All credit would, of course, be given to you."

"Mmm... we do not wish publicity for ourselves," cautioned Mr Granger, thoughtfully. "Would you be willing to accept the role of official discoverer – most especially if a Crumple-horn is found?"

Mr Lovegood staggered and his wife steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. He was unable to speak so Pandora spoke for him. "You are most obliging, Mr Granger. My husband will certainly give your terms full consideration." He nodded, which was about all he could manage at that moment, then sank down into his seat.

"Oh, MUMMY! May I go too?" squee'ed Luna, jumping around the table to hug her mother's arm.

"Take Hermione to see Fable while I discuss it with your father – she might not have seen a baby unicorn before." Pandora turned to the astonished Grangers. "Anne, perhaps you'd also like to go with–"

The Grangers were out of their seats before she could finish, and hurrying after the two girls who were skipping and bounding out the front door.

"Edward!" called Pandora, "would you mind holding back for a few minutes? Unicorns are nervous of men so better to observe from a distance if you wouldn't mind?"

Firming his lips to hide his boyish disappointment, Mr Granger went to a window to watch. "Not at all," he said, though he could not see clearly where the others were headed, no matter how much he craned his neck.

Pandora Lovegood joined him, standing quite closely as if to share the window's view. "Edward, my husband is a good man but can sometimes be too easily persuaded into follies. I do hope that you–"

Mr Granger's head whirled around to look behind, but Xeno had already left the room – no doubt at his wife's bidding.

"What do you mean?" he said nervously, noticing that although Pandora's skin was not quite so green now, nor her nose so aquiline, she had donned her pointed hat again – and she was standing awfully near to him.

"I'm no fool, Edward." She took a tiny sip from the hot teacup which she had snuggled tightly between both hands and was now tilting it in Edward's direction, softly blowing its steam into his face as she spoke. "Clearly your intention – before you even first wrote to us – was to ensnare Xenophilius into taking this trip. Am I wrong?"

Edward gaped awkwardly, acutely aware now that he was alone with a real live adult witch of unknown abilities. "Uuh... Madam ... Mrs Lovegood, we meant no harm..."

"Of course not. And you were only being polite when you showed such eagerness to see the unicorn, weren't you, Edward?" she whispered, leaning forward even closer to his face with her steamy cup.

"What...?" croaked Mr Granger. He was beginning to feel a little heady.

"Are you alright, Edward? Is it bashfulness that troubles you?"

"Mmm...?" He tried to shake away his confusion but could not.

"A full-grown man would be acutely embarrassed to show any interest in a baby pet. It's alright, you can tell me – you only wished to pretend to be interested so as to humour your wife, that's true, isn't it?"

Mr Granger's face had screwed up tightly – as if he were fighting tears – fighting something. He shook his head and his lips quivered in shame-faced humiliation. "No," he whimpered. Tears were in his eyes, and when he blinked, one of them trickled down his face. "Please don't tell anyone. I really, really wanted to see the little unicorn more than anything."

"I know you did, Edward, I know you did," purred Pandora, and with each word, more steam was puffed into Mr Granger's face. "What was the real reason you came here, Edward? You have to tell me the truth now, you know that. We both do. We can share anything. You want to, don't you? Then everything will be alright again."

Edward nodded vigorously and a second tear drop shook away from the end of his nose. When he spoke, his voice trembled with emotion. "Hermione – it w-was for m-my little Hermione." Mr Granger was quietly sobbing now. "Poor Hermione; she so wants to make friends. She learned about your husband's interest in magical creatures so she researched for something to help. It's all true about the herd she found, the Darwin book too – she told me. Hermione thought if we did something nice for your family that Luna might like her and want to be friends with her. A girl-to-girl friendship is different, she said. She only has one close friend, you see, but he's a boy. A boy's not the same even if he is Harry Potter. Hermione wanted to befriend a girl so they can talk about girly things and–"

"Who did you say?" Mrs Lovegood had straightened up, a look of astonishment on her face. "Is your daughter a friend of Harry Potter?"

"Yes," said Mr Granger meekly brushing a hand across his cheek, "she's Harry's best friend."

Pandora's laughter was no longer a cackle but a smooth, sustained musical symphony as she removed her hat. "Go, Edward. Go and look at the unicorn."

What a nice lady, Edward thought to himself as he descended the western slope past the little orchard. He couldn't remember exactly what they'd talked about but he felt as if an enormous burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Everything alright, Dad?" called Hermione, as he cautiously approached.

"Yes, fine. I daren't come much nearer – they don't like–"

As Anne and Luna stepped aside, Edward had his first real glimpse of Fable, and held his breath. The creature's glossy coat was gold with silver streaks, and her hooves were golden too.

"She's gradually turning all silver, Dad," said Hermione. "She won't be all white for a few years yet. Come on, you can come close if you move slowly and don't startle her."

Anne watched her husband's face as, in a dream, he looked at the bony stub on the unicorn's forehead that Luna was rubbing.

"It's like teething – it gets a bit sore and itchy as it comes through," Luna explained. "I put Murtlap on to soothe and cool it."

"Poor thing," said Anne.

"I know," said Luna, "her mother was injured by a careless wandmaker, but she'll be healed in a few weeks."

Edward glanced back up to the house. Xeno and Pandora were standing at the doorway, waving in a very positive manner.

"I think they've agreed," Anne murmured in his ear. "Looks like the trip is on."

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—oOo—

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Author's Notes

Seems like Hermione is not the only devious character in this tale! That Pandora, eh? But did Hermione prepare for such suspicion? She certainly only told her dad what she wanted him to know...

Yes, Erasmus Darwin really was the grandfather of Charles Darwin and he really was a wizard, but the family hushed it up.

And if you think it's impossible for a seven-year-old Neville to fall for a girl of the same age then believe me, I speak from experience! I didn't even know what it meant but only that I wanted to be with her, and talk to her more than anything in all the world. Alas! It was the end of the school year. I moved up to junior school and never saw her again. Which is why I'm this bitter, twisted wreck today. (sigh)

Thanks to everyone for comments and reviews. These are most welcome and very encouraging. Let me know of any weaknesses or faults – I'm always trying to improve my writing so feedback is really useful. :)

– Hippothestrowl

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