The coffeemaker rumbled. Eggs sizzled on the pan. Mr. Granger finished setting up the breakfast table as his wife was placing a plate of toast on the table.
"David, she's trying so hard. Perhaps, we should talk with Genevieve and tell her to, I don't know, ease up on her."
"You know as well as I do that no one puts more pressure on Hermione than Hermione herself." Mr. Granger took his seat.
"You didn't see her last night."
"I know that she's been practicing every night. That glow under the door is hard to miss."
Mrs. Granger gripped the seatback of one of the chairs. "I wouldn't call last night practicing, David. It was .... was like she was in a marathon that she couldn't bear to lose, couldn't lose."
"Hermione does get obsessive about her studies. Remember, when she was eight and got interested in astronomy, the nights she spent camping outside."
"She's desperate this time. I could see it in her eyes."
"She's come across something that's going to take her some effort to overcome. It's a first for her."
"And if I hadn't come into her room when I did, we would have found her sprawled on the floor this morning. Out cold probably. What a lovely first time that would have been!"
David reached for hand and gave it a squeeze. "Hermione asked to be given the opportunity to try this. We have to give her this chance."
"It seems to me we're giving too much." Philippa wiped a tear from her eyes. "What's going to happen after she's given her all and it's not enough? What's left to her?"
"If the wizarding world doesn't want her, fine. It's their loss. We'll take our girl home. But first we have to have faith that things will work out."
Philippa sniffed loudly. "Well, I'm going to make sure she enjoys her last few days here if it kills me. She is going to relax and ... and be normal."
Hermione walked in at that moment fully dressed for the day. She sat between her parents and promptly began to fill her plate.
Mrs. Granger kissed her daughter's forehead before taking her own seat. "Good morning, darling."
"So what's this I hear about you in near collapse last night?"
"I exceeded my practice time when I shouldn't have. Mum was right to put me to bed." Hermione flashed her mother a quick smile.
"You push yourself too hard, love."
"No one gives you anything. Isn't that what you've always told me, mum?"
"I also said that one should enjoy what one reaps."
"Yes. mum."
Mrs. Granger poured tea for himself. "Speaking of enjoyment, don't forget we're going shopping later this morning."
"We'll need to be back by three. Clive's taking me to the hospital to see Mary."
The battered mini slid and swerved its way through the streets. A light snow fall had made the road a tad icy. Inside, Hermione gripped her handrest firmly while Clive drove beside her. Mary had asked to see her and Clive was driving her to the hospital. Despite the circumstance, Hermione felt comfortable even peaceful. In Clive's company she wasn't a witch, a mudblood or Harry Potter's best friend, she was just Hermione. The hospital wasn't far but the road conditions forced them to go slow. To fill the time, they talked like old friends for whom the intervening months hadn't really happened.
Hermione looked out the window. "I'm afraid of turning into someone that I might not like very much."
"Then don't let it happen."
"It's not that simple." Hermione was silent choosing her words carefully. "Have I changed, Clive, since I started going to my school?"
Clive stopped to a halt at the stoplight. He turned to face her. He placed his hand over her head as if he were granting her some benediction. "You're a mite taller, your hair is bushier. What are you now, sixteen going on thirty, forty?"
Hermione laughed at his remark. "Come on, tell me, seriously, have I changed?"
"You've grown up."
"That is inevitable. Everyone does, well, maybe save for you."
"No, no, Hermione, that WAS my answer." Clive chuckled and then shifted the car into gear. "You want to know what I see? I'll tell you but you may not like it."
Hermione raised her chin and took a calming breath. "Do your worse. I'm braced."
Clive hazarded a quick glance at Hermione before saying his piece. "I don't know if that school has done you any good at all."
"How could you say that? I've learned so much and - "
"Of course you have, that's in your nature. But, be honest, haven't you turned yourself inside out to fit in there?" Clive turned into HIgh Street. "You've always been a brilliant student but, gods, I remember the summer before your first year when we hardly saw you. Your parents said you were revising. Really, revising before the term, that's unhealthy."
"It's a very competitive school." Hermione sputtered. "I had to be prepared, more than prepared, going in. If I was a total idiot, I would have stood out . more besides being a ...a ... well, I would have stood out."
"So, you're saying it was your way of rising to the challenge."
"Exactly!"
"And what would you say if I said that you've gotten more noticeably willful and stubborn the last year or two."
"I have not!"
"Your parents are great, but I have to say you've been indulged and gotten more independence that I did when I was your age. I would never have gotten packed off at the tender age of eleven." Clive smoothly avoided a gaping pothole.
Hermione gripped her hand rest a little tighter as the small car leaned and swerved. "It's not like they forced me to go. It was an honor to be asked and I can't think of any other place better for me. It was my decision to go there."
"Yeah, and you probably get into much mischief and such when you're there."
"It's not like I start anything. Not really. Besides, mum and dad have already gotten letters about my ... my adventures. I've been honest with them, as much as I can."
"What do they say about your, ah, adventures?"
"They trust me to be responsible and do what's right. I'm not going to do anything to endanger that trust."
Clive stopped at another stoplight and grinned at her. "Miss Granger, I believe congratulations are in order."
"What?"
"You have passed over the threshold of life into young adulthood. Please take my congratulations in the spirit they are intended."
"Clive, you're being silly again."
"Hermione, the mark of young adulthood is taking the reins of your life's purpose and direction away from your parents and handling them yourself for good or ill. Don't you realize that you've already changed, grown up?" Clive changed gears and proceeded past the light.
Hermione sat in silence digesting this observation. Life changing revelations are supposed to happen after deep thought and consideration. Such thoughts did not occur in a gray, cramped aging mini determinedly making its way through a wintry streetscape in London.
Clive continued on. "The question shouldn't be have you changed but do you like the person you've changed into?"
There was no answer forthcoming. Clive didn't prod futher. He simply waited for her to answer.
"Yes and no." Hermione took a deep breath. "I like what I am now and the things that are different."
"Well, that's good. Studies show that the personality one develops from the late teen years to the mid twenties is quite close to the personality one would likely have for the rest of one's life."
"How comforting."
"That's another thing sarcasm mixed with wit. Defintely a sign of maturation, at least in my mind." Clive turned right and the hospital was in sight. "Neither of your parents have the gift of it. Somehow you've developed an inclination for it."
"I've been around someone who is a past master at it." Hermione grinned.
"He must be a good teacher to be able to impart and communicate the suble art of sarcasm and what?!" Hermione began to laugh and tears appeared in her eyes. "I didn't think I was being that funny."
"No, not ... not you." Hermione said in between gasp trying to control herself again. "It's one of those you had to be there kinds of things. Forgive me please?"
"As long as I'm not being insulted."
"You may take it as the highest of compliments." Hermione replied. She spied the sign pointing to the visitor's parking area. "There. Go left."
"Maturity has only made your bossiness more pronounced." Clive turned left.
"My mum is the same way. You can't change something developed in the womb."
"Have you thought of developing some tact?"
"I tried. It did not agree with me. I've thought to try learning the science of gentle manipulation instead."
As they made their way to the hospital, Clive broached the other topic so far left undiscussed. " You know I didn't mean that bit about your school. I ought to mention, too, that I like this new Hermione. She's a bit unpolished and indelicate at times but there's good material there. I don't think you could change where I couldn't like you."
"What if I was horridly superior, biased, cold, narrow-minded and thoughtless? Not caring about anyone or anything save for what I wanted or needed. Would you like me then?"
"Moot question. You'd never become like that."
"But what if I did? Look how much I've changed and I didn't even notice until you pointed it out to me." Hermione slowed her pace. "People will turn away from me maybe hate me and I won't see it coming."
Clive shook his head. "I don't understand where this anxiety is coming from. There's always been a touch of certainty about the way you like to go and be. Why the sudden floundering?"
"My life is changing, Clive. I feel like I'm in front of a great door. With great effort, the door is opening little by little. I want to open the door so badly and my progress is so slow. Why is it so slow? Is it because it's not meant to be or am I doing something wrong?"
"Going to university is a big step, only a few years away. I can see how that could unsettle even one like you." Clive spoke gently. "Meant to be, eh? That's the first time I've ever heard you say anything so metaphysical."
"As you say, I've changed. I've learned that things aren't always what they seem, black or white, up or down. Sometimes one has to believe in something fantastical because it could happen."
They neared a bench and Clive motioned for them to sit down. "Let's take this in steps shall we. How much do you want to open this door?"
"With every fiber of my being."
"Do you think you can do it?"
"Yes, but -"
"No buts. Do you believe in your heart that you can do it?"
"Yes."
"Do you need to do this?"
Hermione paused before answering. "Yes."
"Why do you need it?"
"Because ... because I'm the one who can. I feel like it's the right thing to do. You've always advised me to follow my instincts."
"You're suffering from a classic overachiever neurosis - fear of your own success."
"You have got to be kidding."
"Hermione, you had more than your share of success and a few failures here and there to keep you balanced. Success doesn't put you off. You are afraid of what your success will bring. Oh, not the changes themselves in you and your life, but you're not sure you can handle it. Am I right?"
"I might make the wrong decisions out of ignorance or misinformation. If anyone gets hurt, it should be me not ... not anyone else. I've been incredibly lucky to not have gotten killed yet."
"That school must be fascinating."
"It teaches a lot of .. of life lessons." Hermione was thoughtful. "Hypothetically speaking, what if I were to turn my back on my life here - my family, Gwen, you, everyone and everything."
"You mean when you successfully scale the heights of academia, become a famous scholar, celebrated scientist or whatever and forget about us little people in your past?"
"Something like that. I want to do what's right but I'm afraid of losing what I have."
"Things do not get lost on their own. We have to toss them out and allow them to be forgotten and lost." Clive said. "My advice to you is this - take what comes because things happen for a reason, cast out your fear and welcome change, and, lastly, decide what is truly important to you and keep them by your side always. Why obsess? Whatever you do, whatever mistakes you make, the world isn't going to stop turning, will it?"
"You're going to make a fabulous psychiatrist someday." Hermione hugged Clive hard.
"I can just picture it. My own consulting booth at the bakery."
"You haven't heard about the scholarship yet I take it."
"Not yet. At least I made the cut of the final five. That's something."
"My parents' offer stands."
"No, no. I will get my own couch someday but it will be on my terms." They both stood up. "Come on, Mary should be awake now."
"Is she on a lot of medication?" Hermione straightened her hair as best she could.
"Ever since that day in the office, she says she feels no pain at all. Just feels tired all the time."
Hermione's eyes brightened. "Really?"
"The doctors can't account for it." Clive smiled. "I guess there are still some things beyond the ken of science."
Later that evening, Hermione knelt in front of the floor mirror in her room. She waited for the clock to strike to eleven. She was allowed two hours to practice and she was not going to exhaust herself anymore. What good would I be to anyone then? All right, Clive, let's see if I've learned anything from your advice. The clock began to sound the hour. Hermione closed her eyes.
I am here. One. Two. Three. Hermione schooled her thoughts to calmness. As Calliandra had taught her, she visualized the lake at Hogwarts at its most placid under the summer moon.
Now , always. I belong. Four. She deepened her breathing.
I have no fear. Five. Six. Her arms hung loose by her side following the rest of her body in relaxation.
Let what is, be. Seven. Eight. Nine. Hermione found her inner sense and began to bring it forth. Her aura began to shimmer around her.
Ten. Eleven. I accept whatever will be.
The shimmer coalesced around her form sending tingles along her skin. Hermione opened her eyes and wondered at the sight in the mirror. Around her a rainbow of colors undulated and danced. Her aura did not ebb or fade. Laughter, wild joyful laughter rose from her belly to her throat unchecked. Hermione hugged herself feeling a new warmth invading her body from her fingers inward. Small sparks of light danced around her. So fascinated was she by her image that she didn't notice the growing hum from the vibrating walls or floors. Neither did she notice her parents standing in her doorway; one wiping tears of relief from eyes and the other practically aglow with pride.
All across Britain, wizards and witches of the Tradition looked up from their tasks or gasped in their sleep. They had all felt it. The undercurrents of ancient magic pulsed with a vitality only experienced at the birth of a powerful wizard or witch. Many wondered whom to send their congratulations to the next morning. And some sighed in gratitude that despite the turmoil of their world, there was still somewhere the promise of a new life.
In a room where a young wizard lay in slumber, there was another who felt the sudden surge of power and knew another, older interpretation. The mirror glowed brighter and brighter until the darkness of the room had been banished.
The young wizard awoke and rubbed his eyes. "What's going on? Is it morning already?"
"Wake up! You must awake!" The mirror repeated.
"What? What are you going on about?" Neville squinted at the clock by his bed. "It's nearly midnight!"
Neville shielded his eyes. The light from the mirror was nearly blinding. The voice grew stronger and firmer. "The Wishbringer, Neville. She's come."
The words sank in slowly. The mirror kept repeating its words. Neville looked at the clock, the mirror and back to the clock. "What do I do? Tell me, what am I supposed to do?!"
"Find her. You must find her." The mirror replied. It's light began to fade and the room returned to its original dimness. "Only you can find her. Only you."
Neville's heart hammered in his chest. In his haste to get out of bed, his legs tangled with the sheets. He kicked at his bedclothes and promptly fell out of bed. "Where ... where is she? Who is she?"
Neville rose from the floor and hastily tossed his blankets from the bed. Neville lit a candle. There was a knock on his door.
It was his grandmother. "Neville, are you all right? You're supposed to be sleeping. Are you studying again?"
Neville began excitedly "Gran, you won't believe it -"
"Hush now! You cannot reveal what you know. You cannot until you find her." said the mirror.
"But, I may need Gran's help."
"This is your quest and no other. The rules are very specific on that point."
"Neville, open this door this instant. I can hear that mirror whispering in there. Is she keeping you awake?"
"Hag." said the mirror.
Neville breathed deeply, straightened his nightshirt and opened the door. "I'm sorry for disturbing you, Gran. I had a bad dream and fell out of bed."
His grandmother smoothed his hair. "You always have bad dream for a few nights after visiting the hospital."
"Yes. That's right. I'm fine now, Gran. Have a good night." Neville closed his door and leaned on it trying to calm his racing heart.
He walked towards the mirror and asked. "Where is she? Who is she?"
"Here. Now. You must find her soon." the mirror insisted.
"But where, where do I start? Do you have a name, a face."
"The knowing sense was strong, only an instant, but overwhelming It came from the city."
Neville's brow furrowed in thought. "London is enormous. What else do you have?"
"The power was intense. Not one from a newborn." The mirror's voice was low, reverent. "There was such pure joy, wonder."
"All right. Stay calm and think. Think, Neville, what ... what would Professor Snape advise in this situation." Neville went to his desk and quickly got quill and parchment. "Write down all known facts on the matter. Yes, that's the first thing to do. Know what you have."
Neville scribbled madly for a time. He looked at his list. It was disappointingly brief. Time almost midnight. Somewhere in London. Adult female. Must be a witch.
"Will there be some sign, mirror? Can I use something to detect her presence? Would you know her?"
"I cannot identify her only sense her awakening but a Longbottom will know."
"That's it?! No spell or charm or -"
"You will find her somehow."
"Will it be sometime in this century?"
"The sooner you start, the sooner you will find her."
Neville looked at the calendar. "I don't have much time. I go back to school in two days."
"What can be done in two days?" Neville paced the floor. "Two. Two. Wait, I don't have to find her in two days but I can become familiar of the area. Rule two of covert operations, know your operating environment, the lay of the land. I'll explore London starting tomorrow."
"Your grandmother will object. For once, I agree with her." The mirror pointed out. "You know little of muggle ways. What if something happens to you beyond reach of our assistance?"
"You're right. I don't know much about muggles but I know someone who does. AND she lives in London." Neville clapped his hand in glee. "I'll ask Hermione to teach me how to get around the city, use the transports, muggle money and such."
"You may not share this with her."
"I won't, mirror. She'll think I've lost my head anyway." Neville replied. "Once I know my way, I'll look for her every holiday, every break and I will find her. Everyone has a destiny and this is mine. I will find her. I will."
It is said that Gringotts uses dragons to guard its valuable vaults. That is true, very true indeed. But what is not revealed is what guards Gringotts' most valuable and secret vault. This night the guard of vault number one was restless. Its tail lashed to and fro while it fixed its blue eyes upon the trembling goblin before it. Dragons could be tamed, even bribed to be cooperative but a manticore, well, there were several reasons why it was the guard of the first vault - the body of a giant, powerful red lion, the face of a human, the tail of a scorpion and a devious bent to asking riddles of its chosen prey. It was the best of guard - physically imposing, willfully implacable as well as resourceful and intelligent.
The manticore had begun to roar for attention around midnight. It's roar, like mighty trumpets, reverberated through the cavernous depths of the bank. Dragons and the other fearsome monsters grew agitated at the furious sound. A goblin was dispatched to the see to the manticore at once. After a half hour the goblin returned and informed its superiors of the manticore's plight. After the messenger finished his recitation, silence fell over the gathered bank directors, wizened elders of the goblin families.
The elders looked at each other in consternation. Agitated murmurs filled the air. What should we do now? When will she arrive to make her claim? How will we know who she is? What is expected of us?
The oldest of the elders raised his hand and all became silent. His voice cracked with great age. "This is a wondrous time. A time I never hoped to see. Before us is the opportunity to pay our debt to she who gave our kind peace when man trod upon the heels of our destruction; prosperity when all shunned our kind so long ago. Spread the tidings to all the goblin holds in Brittania. The Wishbringer is here and we must make her welcome."
A less wizened goblin ventured to ask. "First Elder, how will we know her?"
"The Guardian will find her and bring her here so it has been foretold, so it will be. We shall wait for that glorious day."
"When will the day come, First Elder? Are we to hold special preparations in constant readiness for an unknown time?"
The elder sighed. "You, young Griphook, need learn patience. All you youngers impose your schedules and priorities so rigidly."
Griphook replied. "First Elder, there are many things to plan and -"
"Griphook, the plan has been in existence for centuries. It will keep a while longer."
The young goblin looked around him. The ones of his age and generation nodded their heads in agreement. The other, the elders, shook their heads in disapproval. "But, elder, this is a .... a monumental event. Do we not wish to show her our gratitude in the best way possible?"
The elders conferred amongst themselves. Many shot penetrating stares at Griphook. Finally the elders finished their conference. The First Elder began to speak. "Griphook is correct. We must assure that our gratitude is properly expressed."
Goblins did not preen but they were allowed to feel pride. Griphook lifted his chin a little higher at the compliment.
The First Elder continued. "As such, we feel that the preparations can and must be charged to our most qualified kin. Griphook, you are in charge of all preparations."
Griphook was stunned. He could only bow to indicate his acceptance of the charge.
"The first task in the instructions left by Rhys Longhas is to inform the Guardian of this event. Tomorrow, you will do this."
"I will do so, First Elder, then upon my return I will -"
"Return, Griphook?" The First Elder shook his head. "The second task in the plan is that the Guardian may avail of our assistance once the notification has been fulfilled. You, Griphook, will be that assistance. You are hereby relieved of your normal bank duties so that you may fulfill this new charge."
"L- Leave the bank?" Griphook squeaked out.
The Second Elder replied. "How else will you assist the Guardian if not in man's world. Do not worry, you shall be well provisioned and disguised."
"The world is not as hostile as it was in my day, young one. Think of it as an adventure." said the First Elder with some finality.
The assembly dispersed chattering amongst themselves. Griphook was the last to leave. He surveyed the assembly room and said. "Yes, yes, an adventure. It will be that."