.

So far... The reborn Hermione befriended Harry, Neville, Luna, and the Weasleys while young and, though Voldemort died early, she formed the secret Cathesis League to fight corruption, elevate justice, and seek cooperation between Muggles and Magicals. Now the youngsters are close to starting at Hogwarts, she has contacted the most trusted members of the old D.A. to form a new study/defence group – but Luna and Ginny have gone to Beauxbatons. Now read on...

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Book 1: Hermione Granger and The Worst of Three Devils

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Chapter 33

Shopping Early


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Gaining Trust

While England simmered in the early July sun, the Longbottoms' basement was pleasantly cool and quiet as a group of very special youngsters were drawn together for serious discussion.

"Thank you all for coming," began Hermione, as she took her seat at the head of the rough trestle table. "For you newcomers, my name is Hermione Granger. This is a significant meeting of our society because although others will join us, you twelve are now, and will remain, the most trusted."

For a few moments she paused while a stir, an almost silent movement, flickered across the gathering, then she continued. "You are probably wondering about the reason for such confidence, and I must ask you not to reveal my answer to anyone outside of those present here, not mother, father, not... not even your twin sister, Padma."

The mouth of the girl in question formed an unspoken how...? but Hermione quickly added, "I know something about all of you. How? Magic has revealed to me a few insights about future events – no, I am not a prophet – but this ability often helps me judge better what the outcome of our endeavours may be with different degrees of certainty. But please do not speak of this without being sure you cannot be overheard. I'm not asking for an oath. In my heart I already know I can rely on you."

"Not wishing to be rude but..." Susan Bones began. "Erm... Why do you trust us? And how can we uuh...?"

"Trust me? I shall be speaking to each one of you, some singly, some in groups, but as a general evidence of an imminent event: the Russian-dominated Eurasian Union of Magic is breaking up and–"

A snort from Michael Corner drew her attention. He shook his head. "Sorry, but that's common news in the Prophet!"

"Yes, but what's not in the Prophet – because it has not even been decided yet – is that on the twentieth of August, the Sovereign Order of Rasputin will be reinstated in Russia. Other ex-members of the Union will reform their own state organisations. That will be in the evening edition of the Prophet on that date. Do not discuss it with anyone else but you twelve until then."

That raised a few eyebrows. Hannah and Justin wrote it down, and explained to Dean Thomas what the Daily Prophet was.

"Wait... there are only eleven of us," chipped in Ernie, raising his hand as he did so.

"Ron's not here today, Hermione, remember?" said Harry.

Hermione nodded. "Thanks, Harry. Yes, the Weasley family are holidaying in France this summer, so Ron Weasley can't be with us today."

Hannah frowned. "But, Hermione, with you, that's thirteen altogether."

"That's correct."

"But..."

Hermione smiled. "Thirteen is not unlucky – that's just a Muggle superstition."

Hannah nodded uncertainly to herself but wrote it down.

Hermione continued, "Most of you know of Harry Potter. He is the official leader of this group. His judgement is often more instinctively reliable than mine, so he has the last say. As his second-in-command, I only have charge of those things I know about. I'll now be speaking briefly with you individually. Harry, would you take over?"

Clearly Harry had been expecting this, for he rose to his feet and began discussing the group's name which Ron had previously suggested. Hermione gestured for Padma to sit with her at another table for a few minutes.

Hermione moved her chair very close to Padma's and studied the girl's expression. "You might be wondering why I didn't invite your sister at the same time as you? What did you tell her when you got my letter?"

Padma nodded. "What you said, that she and others will be asked later as you get more organised."

"The true reason is that not everyone can know about my perceptions. Listen, Padma, you can scarcely imagine how much I respect and trust Parvati, but her nature is not as serious as yours. While you will never fail in your determination to keep my secret, she might accidentally let something slip – you know I'm right."

Padma's eyes whitened in surprise. "You sound as if you know her!"

"Perhaps nothing is absolutely certain but I see what is very probable – sometimes so likely that I cannot conceive of it any other way. So now I must tell you something that I know will hurt for a while..."

Padma bit her lip expectantly, and her eyes shone as Hermione continued, "Parvati is a real fighter and has a very courageous heart. She will be sorted into Gryffindor. You are also brave but your knowledge and intelligence will get you sorted into Ravenclaw."

"We'll be separated?" said Padma tremulously.

"You'll share some classes and can sit together at mealtimes. You can also be together out of class in reading rooms and so on, and even invite each other to your common rooms, but yes, you will be apart much of the time."

"That's alright, we need our own space," said Padma resolutely.

"No, it's not alright, is it...?" Hermione knew what was coming – remembered how Padma had tried to hide her shock at the original Sorting ceremony, and how she herself had been too absorbed in her own school prospects to even consider comforting a stranger. She had not even offered solace to Parvati as Hermione lay that night contemplating when they'd get their schedules while only half-listening in an annoyed sort of way to the girl crying. Now she leaned forward to hug Padma as tears flowed.

"W-we've always b-been together," Padma softly blubbered into Hermione's shoulder.

"I know... I know..."

Hermione could hear Harry – who she had prepared – talking through the hush that had fallen on the main group by the distraction. "So, we'll be taking a vote in a bit but if anyone–"

"Padma, you and Parvati will adjust quickly. Over the next few days the hurt will diminish as you adjust and mature, I promise. I want to see you two happy when the Sorting Hat calls out your houses."

Padma pulled back a little to smile wanly. "Thank you, Hermione."

"Anytime. I know you'd do the same for me."

Hermione's certainty was curious to hear, and Padma looked at her strangely. She couldn't know that she had comforted Hermione when even the brave Gryffindor had collapsed with her burden of grief at Harry's funeral.

As Padma went to rejoin the others, Hermione said, "Can you ask Dean to see me next, please, Padma?"

Harry knew what they'd rehearsed. "Are you ready to cast your vote first, Dean? Yay or Nay for the name SHIELD?"

"Yay of course," grinned Dean.

His smile disappeared as he sat down with Hermione and saw her sad expression. "What?"

"You're not a Muggle-born, Dean."

He paused briefly to absorb that. "How do you know for sure? I've already told you Mum suspected Dad might be magical when I began displaying accidental shapes and sounds out of nowhere."

When Hermione did not answer immediately, his mouth opened wide. "You've found him? You know where he is? Mum will kill him for running out on us."

She shook her bushy head. "I'm so sorry, Dean, it's too late for that."

Dean stared at her for a few moments then his shoulders sagged in disappointment. "He's dead isn't he? Mum always said he'd waste his life away."

Hermione shook her head. "No, Dean, your dad was a hero. He left to protect you all from dark wizards who hate Muggles, especially if they marry magicals. They gave him an ultimatum: join them and condemn his family – or die. He refused. They murdered him."

Dean fell silent, his eyes fixed on Hermione. "You're certain about this?"

"In years to come there'll be a confession. I've seen it. Call it a vision. If you want payback, you've plenty of time to prepare – Goodness knows you have courage enough, which reminds me, you'll be in the same house at Hogwarts as your father – Gryffindor."

A frown emphasised Dean's doubt. "You've seen that too?"

"Yes. Don't tell your mother yet about your father. When you and everyone here is sorted as I've foretold, then, perhaps, you will believe and can tell your mother. It might bring her some comfort."

For the next half hour, Hermione informed each member of the house they would be sorted into. One or two reserved judgement but most of them appeared to believe her. She herself knew that their character and capabilities could not have changed from her previous life – their Sorting could not be otherwise.

Once they were all back at the main table, Harry told her, "We're tied: half for 'Shield', and half for 'Crest'."

"Some of us think 'Shield' is a bit wishy-washy," said Anthony.

Hermione voiced the new name again to consider it. "'Crest'? What's that stand for?"

"Erm... nothing, it's uuh... just a cool name," said Harry.

"Who thought it up?"

"Neville."

All eyes fixed on the boy who was suddenly struggling not to look away.

Hermione said, "Well, yes, a shield is something to hide behind and kind of negative whereas a crest is a sort of banner and a high point. There's a sense of forceful pride in it which is good. I like it."

Susan said, "Can I change my vote to Crest? I only voted for Shield because that was the only name on offer to begin with."

Others murmured their support.

Harry said, "Right, let's go with 'Crest'. Any objections?"

There were none.

Hermione said, "Remember, we're essentially a study group providing support for every one of us – and that's how others should see us. More than that, we're preparing ourselves for the tough world we live in. As with Muggle schools, many of Hogwarts subjects are too specialised and you'll forget most of what you were taught when you start your careers. I mean, how many of us will need detailed knowledge of potions, history, astronomy, runes, and so on? It's everyday life skills such as charms and defence we need to learn at this stage, then we can be more selective later when we've chosen our careers. So Crest will help bridge the gap and improve our prospects. There may be difficulties but we'll face them together."

"Well said!" Justin chipped in. "As a matter of interest, what house will you be in, Hermione? Ravenclaw?"

Attention focused on Hermione. She laughed. "Never! I can positively guarantee I'll be in Gryffindor. You have my word on that."

Harry continued, "Right, everyone, in two or three weeks we'll all be getting our Hogwarts acceptance letters which has got a list of items we need, including – ta-dah! – our adult wands! But many of us know this stuff from our parents so why wait? We could all go together say, tomorrow? Day after?"

The weekend was finally agreed for the joint visit and the meeting finished off with trainer wand practice. There were not quite enough to go round so they had to share, but in a few days from then, that would no longer matter.

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Another Burglary

A man robed entirely in black crept silently down rickety wooden steps in almost velvety darkness. The only visible sign of the stealthy intruder's presence was the faint glimmer of a tiny Muggle penlight clamped between his polished white teeth. He led the way unerringly along a stone passage, then, without a sound, he signalled to his short accomplice to examine the dusty grey board under a broken cabinet.

"Oh, Dad, do you have to be so melodramatic?" Hermione Granger crouched down and took out her wand.

"Hush, you still have much to learn, my young apprentice," growled Mr Granger with a theatrical wave of his arm, "the Force is strong with this erm... wooden plank."

"You're sure this is where Pilf was? Where was I then?"

"Yes," said Mr Granger. "You'd just ran back to the junior wand section. Pilf's hand started to reach down there, then pulled back when I said no."

"Well, you're right about the Force," said Hermione. "There are definitely enchantments here."

She found a couple of finger holes at one end of the board and pulled it away. Dull grey metal rings spilled out of a small cloth bag, glittering faintly in the torchlight.

"Wow?" said Mr Granger, sarcastically voicing his disappointment. "I thought they'd be gold at least."

Hermione smiled in the darkness. "Dad, it's not the metal but the magic in them that's rare. Now that Pilf is out of business, we may be looking at the only stock of anti-trace rings in the entire country. There's not much demand for them you see, except among Muggle-raised children, and they don't usually even know about them. It's a really clever charm actually – I don't know anyone who could fake a wizard's magical aura."

"A what? I thought the rings hid the underage magic?"

"No, the charm gives an impression that an adult magical person is close. The Ministry's anti-trace spell disregards underage magic if it detects a grownup witch or wizard nearby to supervise, otherwise it would be alerting Ministry staff thousands of times a day. It's so kids can practise magic with a tutor or at home if their parents are there."

"I see... Still wish they were gold. You can never have enough gold."

"Actually, that's not a bad idea..." said Hermione.

She looked up to see her dad grinning at her. He said, "I was joking."

"No, look..." and with a wave of her wand the dull rings were transformed into shiny Galleon coins.

"You can conjure gold?" cried Mr Granger. "Then why have we been melting down goblin gold all this time? All these trips to Gringotts?"

"Not conjured – Transfigured. It's fake, Dad. The goblins would spot these a mile off."

"You disappoint me, my young apprentice. I was hoping for a new lightsaber at least..." Mr Granger swished his penlight theatrically at the empty niche as he kneeled down and rummaged hopefully for treasure.

Hermione giggled. "But that's the problem with the rings: if a kid puts one on his wand then it might get noticed. No, I'll hand out a few of these coins to Crest members and they can keep them in their pockets; they don't need to be actually attached to a wand. Come on, Dad." She headed for the stairs back up to the shop.

She paused halfway. "Even better, I can include the Protean Charm so the same coin can be our message system too. Have I won your approval, Jedi Master?"

The silence triggered Hermione to spin around with her wand out. "Dad? Dad?"

She ran back the dozen steps she'd taken. "What have you got there, Dad?"

"Just a few papers stuffed at the back of the nook under the cabinet. Seem to be business accounts, stock notes... look – there's the unpaid invoice for the rings." He passed a couple of sheets to Hermione who lit her wand. "Hmm... shady deals that he didn't want anyone to find. He's small fry, Dad. I've no interest in extending his stay in that foul Azkaban just for dealing in anti-trace rings and the like. What's that one, a letter?"

"Scribbled message about his wands. ... It's three years old."

Hermione took the note and read it out thoughtfully, "'So you say yet again, Pilf! And I repeet for the humpteenth time – your a lying toerag. Who else nicks hot wands and such round here if it wernt you? You leave the other traders stuff alone or maybe that snoopin reporter will get his story after all.' It's not signed."

"Well he's in prison so it sounds like the Daily Prophet got the scoop then," chuckled Mr Granger. "Shall we go? You said you had a certificate to pick up?"

Hermione frowned, deep in thought. "No, not the Prophet. It was Xeno Lovegood who ran the story – I remember him saying when we were on that Snorkack safari. It's not important." She studied her watch. "Certificate, yes, and I need to retrieve it before I get my new unused wand or it will look odd when they weigh it."

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The Qualification

With a soft pop, Hermione and her father Apparated into a very rundown street whose only notable contents were a few shabby offices, a mediocre-looking pub and an overflowing skip. "This is the place," she said. "The Ministry of Magic."

Mr Granger let go of her arm and looked about him. "Funny, I was expecting something more... imposing."

"This is only the visitors' entrance," said Hermione, pointing at an old red telephone box which was missing several panes of glass and stood before a heavily graffitied wall.

They crammed inside. Hermione enlarged her robe until it sagged around her, then took out a small vial and swallowed two tiny sips.

"And this is...?"

"Ageing potion. Just enough to make me look vaguely almost twenty."

"Won't you get into trouble if–?" Edward gulped as his daughter grew taller and filled out. "You look so like your mother when we–"

"Yes, well... let's not go there." Hermione hastily cut him off by seizing the receiver and dialling a number. "I checked very carefully and age is never mentioned so it's perfectly legal. I just want to avoid unnecessary–"

Mr Granger was startled to hear an officious woman's voice, sounding as if she were in the phone box with them, "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Hermione Granger and her escort to collect an envelope from reception."

"Thank you," said the cool female voice. "Visitors, please take a badge each and attach it to the front of your robes."

There was a click and a rattle, and the badges slid out of the metal chute where returned coins usually appeared.

The floor of the telephone box shuddered. They were sinking slowly into the ground. Hermione gripped her father's arm and squeezed it reassuringly. "Dad, I'm casting a very mild Notice-me-not charm on myself so you'll probably be only vaguely aware of me. I'll keep tweaking your arm to remind you I'm here. Let me do all the talking."

"Hmm...?"

After about a minute a chink of golden light flooded in and the lift came to a halt. Once the door sprung open, Hermione guided her father to the security reception desk at the far end of the Atrium. "Miss Granger to collect a package," she said.

The clerk at the desk nodded vaguely as he reached out. "Wand, please."

Hermione handed over the adult wand they'd bought from Pilf years before.

The wizard dropped it on to a strange brass instrument which looked rather like a set of weighing scales but with only one dish. It began to vibrate and he read out something displayed at the base of the device:

"'Eleven inches, vine wood with a dragon heartstring core, been in use five years.' That correct?"

How could Hermione ever forget the wand chosen to match her original as closely as possible? The one that, curiously, she would soon be buying again? She nodded. "Yes."

The man turned to rummage through several pigeon holes in the wall behind him and retrieved a large fat envelope with a note attached. He frowned as he read it. "Wait right here."

"Is there a problem?"

"Wait here, I said."

He scribbled a note on a small piece of pale violet paper, folded it a couple of times then launched it into the air. Off it flew, flapping and darting directly for the nearest open lift door.

Mr Granger let out a low whistle ending in a "Wow!"

Hermione squeezed her father's arm but it was more to reassure herself than to remind him she was there. The desk clerk was still clutching the envelope tightly and scrutinising Hermione's face, but the Notice-me-not charm soon made him lose interest and he gazed over her shoulder. After what seemed like several long minutes, his eyes focused again on someone behind Hermione.

"Ah, Madam Marchbanks. This is her." He pointed at Hermione as if he were singling out a suspect on a lineup.

"Thanks, Eric."

Madam Marchbanks took the envelope from the man and looked at Mr Granger who gazed back without speaking. When she eventually glanced at Hermione, her eyebrows raised slightly and she said to Edward, "I see the likeness. Is this your sister? You must be very proud of her."

Hermione squeezed his arm and her father said, "Uuh... yes, I am. Very."

"I was very curious to meet her, Mr Granger. We don't often see such exceptionally high marks, especially from those who did not receive our academic instruction." She handed him the envelope. "Not that many do, these days," she added with a sigh. "Well, good day to you."

The moment she walked away, Hermione dragged her father back towards the visitors' lift.

""For someone 'so' curious, she didn't hang about, did she?" muttered Mr Granger to himself.

"She lost all interest because of the spell."

"Hmm...?" murmured Mr Granger, his attention on the red paintwork of the telephone box.

"She won't even remember my face, nor my age."

Mr Granger was gazing at the ceiling and didn't hear her.

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Taking Charge

The spell had worn off by the time they'd returned to Diagon Alley. When they emerged from the Leaky Cauldron into Charing Cross Road, they found Harry and Neville taking charge of those Crest members who'd already arrived. A few parents were there, including Mrs Patil who'd also brought Parvati as well as Padma.

"Aunt Alice! ... Sirius!" cried Hermione, running forward to greet them.

"Hello, Hermione," smiled Mrs Longbottom.

"I see you've been busy." Sirius gestured at the large group that was gathering together just as the Knight Bus screeched to a halt and more children spilled out onto the pavement.

Neville was doing a head count and seemed satisfied, so he began showing those who didn't know how to get into the pub. They trooped through to Diagon Alley where they began to split into groups – though most of them were heading to Gringotts first – Harry, Neville, and Hermione among them with Sirius, Alice, and Edward following.

"So what do you think, Sirius?" said Mr Granger, nodding his head meaningfully forward.

"About what, Edward?" said Sirius.

"Oh, come on – those two." He pointed forward at Harry and Hermione. "They're obviously smitten with each other. Now they're going to spend seven years with each other away from our watchful eyes. You must have wondered about their future together and..." Mr Granger became aware that Sirius wasn't smiling. "What's wrong?"

"They're far too young for that stupid nonsense!"

"What! My Hermione is NOT stupid! She's more sensible than I am!"

"Which doesn't say much," growled Sirius. "I won't have it! I'm Harry's father and I don't want Hermione seeing him until they're older!"

Alice shrilled, "Oh come on, Sirius! This is not like you at all!"

Mr Granger's mouth was gaping in astonishment, but others of the children were passing them all heading to the bank, so he tried to keep his voice low. "Have you taken leave of your senses, Sirius? They're just children – I was half-joking about their future."

Hermione looked back. Her father and Sirius had stopped a dozen paces behind and were clearly arguing in restrained tones so as to not be overheard. Alice was stood to one side shaking her head. Harry said, "Come on, leave them to it. We know where the bank is."

Neville continued with Harry so Hermione hurried after them. "What are they arguing about, Harry? Do you know?"

"Probably about us. Mum and Dad don't want you to see me again until we're old enough."

"What! Old enough for what?"

"I only heard a few words. I think it's to do with that lady troll you told me about."

"Troll?" blinked Neville, not knowing whether he ought to laugh or not. He decided to keep quiet.

For a few seconds, Hermione also struggled to understand what Harry was talking about. She vaguely recalled something about the troll in the girl's toilet being mentioned at the fireworks display in Hyde Park years ago.

Harry tried to explain. "I suppose they think if it tries to kill you, then I'd be in danger so they want me kept away from you until then."

"But they can't possibly know about the troll..." Can they? thought Hermione. "And anyway, it was used to help Voldemort – but now he's dead so there's no point." Or is there? "Are you sure it's not just that they think I'm a bad influence on you?"

"Any influ..." Neville tailed off.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You said "'Any influence'."

"I just meant you... well, you try to control and manipulate people. Nobody likes that. Everybody says so."

Now Hermione stopped in her tracks. "What!"

Harry tried to smooth things over. "He means, well, you know... you kind of organise everyone too much."

Only a spluttering of incoherent protests came out of Hermione's mouth. Harry's words had hurt her deep inside. "And everybody says that?"

Harry stopped Neville by answering first, "No, not everyone, but a few of the Crest members are still unsure what you're doing. I mean, they were all caught up in the excitement and novelty at first – what with going to Hogwarts so near as well, but I think once we get to the castle and split up into houses then some of them might drift away from us."

"B-but I'm only trying to help everyone, can't they see that?"

"No, Hermione," said Harry, "they can't. They can't see the big picture like you can. They don't see the danger."

"Well I couldn't scare everybody right from the start, could I? I mean, that would be so cruel! Imagine Hannah just discovering the joy and wonder of magic only to be told there are horrific, sadistic black magic serial killers waiting in the shadows! That's why I played it down as simply a self-help, study group to learn and support each other against bullies and so on! How can you possibly think–!"

"Hang on! You don't need to convince me! I'm on your side, remember?" said Harry.

They'd reached the steps of Gringotts which diverted her train of thought and helped her cool off as they waited for their parents to catch up. "Don't forget what I reminded you about, Harry – you know, in your vault."

"I won't. I can't wait!" Harry cheered up a bit then. This was to be a special day in his life.

Sirius and Edward had stopped their arguing as they approached. "All set, Harry?" said Sirius. He held out a tiny gold key. "Your very own Potter family vault! Use it sensibly!"

"Thanks, Dad! I will." Harry took the key and gazed at it avidly. His first mum and dad had held this key; now it was his.

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Discoveries in the Vault

Along the Gringotts carts track, the Grangers' vault came first, and although Mr Granger already knew the amounts, he was astonished and even a little embarrassed to see the physical piles of gold Galleons that had accumulated. Hermione took enough of a bagful to carry her through the next school year.

Alice and Neville had to divert to a different tunnel after that so they agreed to meet later. The occupants of the remaining cart fell silent as it proceeded on its way, each absorbed in their own thoughts, but Harry leapt out enthusiastically enough once the cart next pulled to a halt.

"Key, please," said the goblin escort.

Harry handed it over, and the vault door was soon swung open. The boy gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts. Across the piles of treasure, and eclipsing their splendour, were curious fabrics. One, a fluid and silvery grey, lay in gleaming folds, and beside it, a shiver of colourful glory, swirling and changing its surface in the slight breeze from the door and the goblin lamplight falling on it from above.

"Those are your parents most precious possessions, one of which we salvaged from the wrecked cottage," said Sirius. "The other belonged to your father. He lent it to Dumbledore and when it was returned, your mother – your second mother, Hestia, I mean – put them both in here for safekeeping until you were old enough.

"What are they?" said Harry.

"You'll see. They're yours now. All of this is yours," smiled Sirius. "But remember what I've taught you!" he shouted after Harry, who had rushed inside and was throwing up showers of gold into the air.

"I'll take the lot and bet it all on England for the Quidditch Cup!"

"He's definitely your son, Sirius," grinned Edward, hoping to ease the tension between them. "A joker through and through."

Sirius nodded and managed a smile as he threw a small bag in to Harry. "Best of luck getting it all in then because that bag won't carry more than you really need."

With a laugh, Harry picked up the shining, slithery cloth. "It's a full-sized man's cloak, Dad! The most beautiful cloak I ever saw!"

"Try it on then," said Sirius with a big grin on his face.

Harry swung the cloak about himself and looked down expecting to see the material cascade too low down over his shoes. His cry echoed around the stone and metal walls. "IT'S INVISIBLE! It's made ME invisible!"

The others watched as, amidst shrieks of exultation, handfuls of Galleons seemed to throw themselves up towards the open bag as if Harry was hoping it would swallow them all.

"Damnedest thing I ever saw," Mr Granger whispered to Hermione just outside the open vault door.

He didn't notice she had her fingers crossed. Come on, Harry, don't forget!

Amidst the upward sprays of golden coins, a pit began to form as Harry's invisible hands dug deeper and deeper into the pile. "Hullo, what's this?"

Hermione, who was still waiting politely outside with the others, said, "What is it, Harry?"

Sirius strode into the vault to see better. Mr Granger sensed Hermione's eagerness and held her back.

After scraping more Galleons aside, Harry said, "Looks like a little box, Dad."

He pulled it out and up, the box apparently turning on its own in midair as he scrutinised it. The pretty container was no bigger than a shoebox, but a fine gold line crossed the dark, polished wood to trim and outline the lid.

Sirius shook his head in surprise. "Interesting... open it up then, Harry!

With shaking hands, Harry did so, gasping as various personal effects were revealed inside: small pieces of jewellery, family business papers and photos. "Look, Dad, you and Uncle Remus are on this one!"

Sirius took the picture and gazed at an image of a forgotten holiday.

"Here's a shiny... uuh... I see the vault reflected in it but..."

"Ah, so that's where it is! It's your dad's two-way mirror, Harry. I've got the other one."

"But... but it's not working..."

Sirius laughed. So did Mr Granger and Hermione. Even the goblin managed a little sneer as, with his sharp teeth, he tore off a wad of skink jerky and began slowly chewing.

"You're still invisible, Harry!" cried Hermione.

But the mirror had already been slipped back into the box, for now Harry's hands were feeling a soft, red-velvet bag not much bigger than his two fists. He pulled down his hood and his strange expression, together with his sudden silence focused the attention of Sirius.

"What's this, Dad?" said Harry, feigning ignorance, for his mind was filled with Hermione's promise from years before, and of which she'd reminded him just before they entered the bank: the real treasure.

"Don't know, son. Never seen that before. Looks important. Pull on the strings."

Harry trembling fingers could scarcely hold the strings let alone pull them, but he fumbled his way until they loosened enough of an opening for him to take out the contents. He stared in rapture. In each hand he held a miniature enamel portrait.

"Mum? Dad?"

"Harry?" said Lily, then a mixture of smiles and concern appeared on her face. "Oh, Harry, it's been so long! What's happened? Is everything alright? You're so grown up! These were to be surprises from... Santa."

"It's way past Christmas, Lily," said James, his first smile fading rapidly. "I think we've been asleep for a very long time. Are you okay, Harry?"

"I... I'm... f-fine."

Harry's words had stumbled out and, without thinking, Lily tried to wipe away the tear that had fallen upon her image. "Oh, Harry, darling..."

"It's us then, isn't it, son? You're grieving for us?" James said solemnly.

Harry nodded and another tear fell from the end of his nose.

A gruff voice said, "He came on Halloween, James."

"Padfoot? Well, you old dog! What are you...?" His delight evaporated as he digested what Sirius had said.

"You saved me, Mum," Harry said quietly. "Voldemort tried to kill me but you got in his way. The curse rebounded on him. He's dead."

Lily's tiny image put a hand to her mouth in horror. And your father?"

Harry nodded. "Dad too. He got both of you."

"But..."

Sirius said, "James, it was Peter. He betrayed you."

"Peter? I can't believe it! Peter betrayed us?"

Harry passed James's portrait to Sirius.

Sirius nodded. "He's still out there somewhere. Probably hiding in a sewer pipe like the rat he is."

James looked thoughtful. "He'd more likely join with the strongest Death Eaters for protection – that's more his style."

Sirius nodded. "There are dark forces, yes, but they no longer call themselves Death Eaters. ... James, I never knew these portraits existed or I'd have come sooner. There's something I desperately need to ask you..." He carried the portrait a few paces away and began to whisper into it.

Lily tried to divert her son's attention. "Harry, what do you need? Is there any way we can help you?"

Harry smiled wanly and shook his head. "I'm starting Hogwarts soon. And I've made some wonderful friends already." He turned his head rapidly towards the vault door and reached out eagerly with his free hand. "Hermione! Come on! Come and meet my first mum!"

"Hullo, Mrs Potter." Hermione crouched down with Harry on the heap of gold to get a close look at the tiny painting. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Oh, I'm so pleased you're friends," said Lily. "Take care of my Harry for me, won't you?"

"But you don't know what she's like now!" Sirius had raised his voice but suppressed it towards the end of his exclamation, and moved a little further away to the back of the vault.

"I promise I will," smiled Hermione.

"Sirius and Hestia took me in, Mum," said Harry. "Took care of me. Adopted me – but I'm still a Potter," he added hastily.

"Hestia? Hestia Jones?"

"Oh, of course, you don't know. Sirius and Hestia married; they're my new mum and dad now."

"How lovely!" said Lily. "Hestia must be perfect for him! Well, I never thought... but yes, perfect! Oh, I'm so glad you've got a new family, Harry. And, are you happy? Tell me you're happy."

"I am. Very." Harry grinned. "And all this is like Christmas day – thank you!" His outstretched arm swept around the vault until his eyes alighted on the forgotten garment of shivering hues. Its fleecy threads had become subdued to a soft green, but as Harry picked it up, they turned to reveal some of their true colours: golds, reds, and depthless royal blue.

In a quiet voice, Lily said, "Your father gave me that enchanted shawl when I agreed to marry him; it was his mother's and hers before her. I know I cherished it until the day I died."

There was a beautiful silence for a while as mother and son studied each other's faces. Hermione, stood up and backed away slightly, not wishing to intrude in the intimate moment.

Perhaps Harry heard her footsteps crunching on the gold coins, perhaps not, but he said, and his voice was barely a whisper, "Mum... would you be offended if I give this to someone else? Someone very special?"

"Harry, always remember that I am but a likeness of your mother's nature, but I do know that giving away her shawl would make your mother very, very happy."

Harry rose to his feet and turned to Hermione. She seemed diminished, almost frightened as she stared at the softly-coloured garment he held out to her. "Hermione, would you like this? It's family. It's all I have."

Those being the exact same words he used before in her previous lifetime, she could only nod and bite her lip hard – just as she had that first time. He helped her wrap it around her shoulders then stood back to appraise her appearance.

"So, it's definite she'd die?" Sirius could be heard saying. "There's no other way to stop it?"

"Dad!" Harry slewed around, skidding and scattering gold in all directions as he moved towards Sirius. "Who's going to die?"

Sirius said, "Hush a minute, Harry. Let me talk to Lily."

Reluctantly, Harry handed over Lily's portrait and stomped back to Hermione, muttering loudly. "It's the troll. It has to be! It can't be you, it just can't be!"

"Me? Me What?" said Hermione.

"It's a big plot with Dumbledore like I told you!"

"Dumbledore? What's he got to do with it?"

"I've heard Mum and Dad talking about getting someone – perhaps that troll to... to... do you in or something horrible!"

"Oh, Harry, there's no way Sirius wants to kill me!"

"Kill you?" Sirius was walking back. "We're not trying to kill you, Hermione, we're trying to protect you!"

"What!" Mr Granger joined them in the vault looking very angry.

Sirius's shoulders sagged resignedly. "Let me explain."

"No," said Lily. "Let me tell it. Give me to Harry. Hermione, you deserve to hear this too, and... you are Hermione's father I take it?"

Mr Granger said yes and joined them – all sitting on the heap of gold. The goblin just outside the door spat out the remnants of his jerky and sighed; it sounded like it would be a long wait...

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The Runic Oath

Lily said, "Harry, your father and I were Aurors before you were even born."

"Yes, Dad told me – Sirius, I mean."

"Well, when I was close to expecting you, I had to take time off work, and your father was partnered with another Auror. One day they were in difficulties–"

"A firetrap set by the Mulcibers," growled James from Sirius's hand. "They're both rotting in Azkaban now – still, I hope?" Sirius nodded.

Lily continued, "Your father risked his own life to save his partner and she swore a runic oath of honour to repay him – a life debt."

Harry's face had lit up at the account of his father's heroism but Mr Granger said, "Didn't that obligation end with erm... James's death?"

Lily shook her red hair vigorously. "If there are any offspring then it passes to them."

"So it's Harry," said Hermione. "The debt is now owed to Harry."

"Yes..." Lily studied Hermione more closely before continuing. "But not until he is eleven."

Sirius took up the story. "The Auror, she contacted us a couple of years ago and–"

"On my poop deck! Uuh... I mean, erm... Dad, when I was eight, I overheard you and Mum talking through an open window while me and Nev were playing pirates."

"You were up on that roof again? What have I told you about that? It's risky and–"

"Sirius, Sirius..." said James. "It was two years ago. Go on with the story."

"Right. Anyway, we went to see her and had to agree she'd bodyguard Harry for a year to pay off the debt."

"But why didn't you tell me, Dad?" said Harry.

"Such debts are normally shared only by the one who makes the oath. I couldn't even ask Dumbledore – she had to get him to agree she could protect you when you went to Hogwarts. She insisted it was secret anyway but James has just told me–"

"That was never true," said James. "The oath is written down in a very old, formalised runic declaration – it should be in the box these portraits were in."

"But that's good isn't it?" said Harry. "Why does Hermione have to die?"

"WHAT!" cried Mr Granger. "What's this about!"

With a wave of his hand and a shake of his head, Sirius said, "No, no, that's not it at all..." He hesitated. "The experience in the fire, it changed the woman. Before, she was eager and professional but afterwards..."

"She wasn't that bad," said James.

"You didn't get to hear about events in the years after your death. There were rumours about her becoming very heavy-handed. More Death Eaters died during her arrests than any other Auror. She became part of Barty Crouch's elite. He looked the other way."

"The Seven Deadly Sinners!" cried Hermione.

"Wha...?" said Lily. "By Merlin, how could you have learned that, Hermione? Only a few of us in the know at the Ministry called them the Sinners."

"Erm... Mr Crouch, that is..." Hermione thought quickly. "Oh, you wouldn't know. After your deaths, his son was arrested and Mr Crouch lost popularity. I think there was something in the Prophet where he was criticised about them. Er..."

Lily frowned doubtfully.

Harry said, "Dad, you think she might hurt Hermione?"

Sirius sighed. "Not seriously, but she's sworn to protect you, Harry. Anyone too close to you – if they did anything say, risky to your health, well, they might be treated roughly."

"That's why you didn't want Hermione to see Harry until they were older?" said Mr Granger.

Sirius nodded. "It's only a year. I thought the secrecy would also end then."

"There never was a secret clause," James reminded him.

"Well, the answer is simple, isn't it," Mr Granger said brightly. "Dismiss this woman. Waive the debt. Surely Harry will be safe at Hogwarts?"

"We can't," said Lily. "It works like an unbreakable vow."

Hermione gasped. "So she'll die if the debt isn't fulfilled?"

Sirius said, "It was the only factor that persuaded Dumbledore to accept an ex-Auror standing continuous guard over a student at Hogwarts. It would be cold-blooded murder if we denied her."

"Continuous!" cried Harry. "Even in the bath! I'm not having a lady watch me have a bath!"

Lily laughed. "A young and beautiful woman, Harry. She'll probably share the bath."

"No way!"

"Not so young or beautiful these days," muttered Sirius.

"Tell them, Padfoot," said James.

Sirius groaned. "Your mum was teasing you, Harry. The witch was nearly thirty but looked forty even back then and..."

"Tell them!" insisted James.

"Lily, you never really saw her after the fire because you were taking care of Harry that first year. Apart from her injuries, the story goes that her father had been uuh... attacked by a hag."

"What!" cried Lily. "I never heard that."

"The tale surfaced more as she erm... matured."

"In what way?"

"Oh, Lily, what do you think? She's a half-hag. They age quickly and deform as rapidly."

Lily scowled. "You're exaggerating as usual, Sirius."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "She eats minced liver with an eight-spiked fork, Lily! Raw liver!"

Hermione shuddered as a sudden dread passed like a dark cloud through her mind. "Sirius... what... what is her name?"

Sirius stared at Hermione, surprised that the question had come from her. Then he said quietly, "Daggard. Her name is Steff Daggard, and she's quite mad."

.

A Wand For Life

Many of the Crest children were emerging from Gringotts at the same time and excitedly discussing where they were next headed. But for Harry, there was only one shop to be considered first: Ollivanders. Hannah and Justin joined Harry and Hermione along with Neville and Susan before setting off with Alice to get their first real wands. Sirius and Edward, briefly free of their children, went back to the Leaky.

Even Hermione was looking forward to 'retrieving' her original vine wand which had seemed like a lost friend. Other Crest members were already in the shop and a queue had formed at the counter. Justin and Hannah were first and soon began examining their purchases together, and practising a few swishes and simple illumination and tingle spells.

"Ow! Tone it down a bit, Hannah," cried Justin, as he rubbed his stinging elbow.

Hannah laughed with delight. "Magic is so much stronger and easier now!"

Hermione went over to give them their new Crest Galleons and explain about the anti-trace on them. "You'll be able to practise anywhere with one of these in your pocket but don't let anyone see you, and keep it to yourselves. If word ever got to the Ministry you'd still be in trouble."

"Hermione!" called Harry, "You're next!"

She hurried over to the counter, was measured up, and soon began trying the wands that Ollivander fetched from his stock. It took a while but finally, he came up with the one she recognised, and she cast a Lumos spell.

"Aaagh!" Mr Ollivander took several steps back, blinking. The amount of light surprised even Hermione and she made a mental note to scale down her power until really needed. This wand was much more attuned to her than the one she'd bought in Pilf's.

Mr Ollivander said, "Well, young lady, there can be no doubt that particular wand has chosen you quite decidedly. That will be seven Galleons, please."

Pleased to have her own wand again, Hermione stood aside.

"Next," said Mr Ollivander. "Ah..." For a moment, Hermione thought she saw a flicker of concern in the old man's eyes, but he continued smoothly enough. "I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Mr Potter."

He reached down behind the counter and lifted up an open box in which lay three wands. Ollivander handed one of them to Harry to try.

"Well, give it a wave."

Hermione frowned as a few dull sparks fizzled from Harry's wand tip. But it wasn't the magic that puzzled her. She'd always taken for granted that everyone needed measuring up for a good quality wand such as Ollivander provided. She wondered if this was how it had happened in her previous life. Yes, perhaps the wandmaker prepared more carefully in advance for famous and important people; Harry was too modest to have mentioned it.

"Clearly not," said the wandmaker. "How about this?"

The second one was so definitely Harry's original holly wand that Hermione knew it straight away, though it didn't look quite as straight as she recalled. But the wand worked fine because the air crackled as soon as Harry raised it to cast up green sparks. "YES!" he cried.

Harry was overjoyed as they all went out of the shop together. "That was quicker than I thought it would be – let's get our books next, then we've time for ice cream!"

For some reason, even the thought of buying books did not stop the odd feeling that something was not quite right nagging Hermione as they walked down the street.

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—oOo—

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Author's Notes

This Book 1 is the second of a planned eight, novel-length books (Books 0 to 7) included in one long fic. Currently I'll be adding chapters about every 8 to 10 days.

So, here we are on the threshold of all-new Hogwarts adventures, challenges, dreadful villains, and above all, friendship. Enjoy!

Many thanks for all 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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