VI

Oh damn. Just realised I forgot to give credit where it's due in the last five chapies. Well, April and Alex are mine. Everyone else belongs to J.K- I just slipped them an aging potion.

Two days later April came home from school in tears. Things were getting worse with the other children- three of them had ganged up on her that day, Dillon and his older brother and a mate. They had cornered her waiting for the bus and yelled insults into her face. Cruel things designed to wound a child- things like "you freak- no one likes you- why don't you just disappear?" and "you're so weird. And you look like a carrot" (Hermione would have had trouble not laughing at that one if she hadn't been so furious). It seemed their favourite taunts involved her lack of parents; April didn't have any because she was ugly or stupid, her father didn't love her mother or her, she was an orphan because her parents were too stupid to live- no wonder she was so stupid. Despite April's true knowledge of her parents, she was too young to disregard such comments made repeatedly.

It seemed the boys hadn't come away from the incident unscathed either. Briefly Dillon and his brother had sported grotesquely swollen noses and the other boy had grown abnormally long eyebrows. Hermione was confident that these alterations to their appearances wouldn't last long- April's magic was too raw and unschooled to have any durability- but the boys wouldn't be discouraged. In fact, Hermione guessed that the incident would only encourage their vindictive hatred.

She was largely unsuccessful at comforting April, and eventually, the girl cried herself into a state of illness, so Hermione simply put her to bed for the evening. April woke up very hungry the next morning- having missed dinner- but very reluctant to go to school. Hermione escorted her down to the bus and ensured she got on it. When she heard that afternoon that another incident- minor but still significant to April- had occurred and left April afraid to go to school (Hermione didn't blame her- who knew when this would turn into physical bullying also?) Hermione rang the teacher.

Miss Guy was young but not soft. She seemed to have come out of her training with the view that all children were alike and could all be managed by the same method- give them no leniency and they would expect none. Hermione (who had been a somewhat solitary child herself, inclined towards having few friends who were very intimate and shared a lot in common with her, and had struggled when forced to work with those outside this small circle) disliked her strongly.

She was not pleasantly surprised. Miss Guy made the right noises and said she was aware some incidents were occurring and that she was monitoring the situation. Hermione asked if she knew about the incident at the bus stop. When Miss Guy said she did not, Hermione then asked her to tell her what she did know. Apparently, the teacher had never been present at the times April was suffering, but she understood that Dillon and a couple of other members of the class, were being somewhat unkind toward April in their behaviour- here she implied that this was due to April being a difficult child who obviously made no effort to get on with the other children- and making comments that might be upsetting to the girl. She had spoken to the perpetrators on several occasions and was confident that they were aware their behaviour was wrong and had to stop. Hermione told her some of the things April had reported to be said and recounted the incident involving the older children. Miss Guy said she would look into it. Hermione told her that the situation warranted more than "looking into"- it had happened, April had been deeply upset, and she wanted the boys punished.

At this point Miss Guy made a fatal mistake. She began speaking down to Hermione. Gently she implied that Hermione was an overanxious caregiver who was not aware of the true situation and was basing her assumptions on the unstable and emotional word of a six year old. Mid way through her careful analysis, Hermione broke in to tell her very shortly and very clearly exactly what she thought of her teaching style and that she was withdrawing April- and the considerable amount she budgeted to have her enrolled there each term- from the school. As a final note, she told Miss Guy that she was four years her senior and resented being talked down to by a woman of no obvious intelligence or skill who reminded her strongly of a very foolish teenager she had once been at school with called Lavender Brown. Were they by any chance related and did insensitivity run in the family? Then she hung up.

Hermione later regretted her hasty words. It was that temper of hers. People had thought Ron was the one who was easily aroused to temper, but Hermione had always been able to match him. It had certainly lent spice to their relationship- a more peaceable woman would have become dispirited by the constant arguments, but she had found them invigorating. And their reunions certainly hadn't discouraged them.

She remembered one particular incident when Ron had interrupted what she was telling him- knowing full well he wasn't really listening and looking forward to calling him on it- to read a small article about the Chuddly Cannons to Harry from The Prophet. Hermione had accused him of being a sport obsessed blind man whose brain resided in his arse, which was the part of his anatomy he used to sit a broom. The argument had blown up from there. They hadn't spoken for two days. Finally Harry, who was getting sick of acting as the middle man and relaying messages between two supposedly mature adults, had called them both on it. Neither was ready to give in, but that night Hermione had gone into Ron's room to apologise for starting the argument. Ron had invited her to come for a moonlit broom ride. Trusting that he wouldn't take advantage of her fears, even if he was still angry, she had accepted. He'd flown them low and slowly across the silvered landscape, with her wrapped tightly in his arms. They'd ended up landing on a wooded hillock and making love under the stars.

She blinked back tears as she recalled her emotions afterward as they lay panting on the cool grass, with the drew rising to cover them and the stars wheeling in the endless heavens above. She had been so blissfully happy. Her body relaxed and pliant, warm, with his body to defeat the night's chill, her senses caught up in him.

Now, in the practical daylight, wasn't the time for such thoughts, she had other problems to deal with: where was she going to send April to school?

There were plenty of good schools in Paris, both public and private, but they were all French. Hermione knew even as she thought this that she wasn't so concerned with the language taught- after all, at this rate April would be living her life in Europe- but that the same thing would happen. The children would take exception to April because of her magic and no adult logic would dissuade them. It was human nature to fear and consequently hate what was different, and children were the most primitive of men, unpolished by society, incapable of hiding their emotions. Hermione was afraid that wherever she sent April, she would have to pull her out again soon, and for a child of her age, this constant displacement and insecurity of habit was unhealthy.

Whatever decision she made would have to be a good one.

When Neville called again, he bypassed the need to visit her muggle workplace and simply apparated into her living room. April was sitting at the table writing a story for Hermione- who still hadn't decided what to do about her and was trying to keep her mind occupied with constructive activities while she fended off the inquiries from her workplace about her absence by claiming to have contracted tonsillitis. When Neville appeared so suddenly in her domain the six-year-old yelped, leaped from her chair and fled in the direction of the kitchen, where Hermione was making lunch. She was not so much spooked by his unusual method of entry- which her young mind could easily encompass, but by his large masculine presence in this house of physically diminutive females. It jarred her world slightly and unpleasantly.

When April ran through the kitchen door and smacked into her legs, nearly causing her to drop the plates she was carrying as she rocked back under the assault, Hermione began to scold her for running inside. "April, how many-"

But her lecture was cut short as Neville's cheery greeting echoed through the flat. "Hello? Hermione?" April paused in the act of standing from her prone position on the floor to look up at Hermione in question. Would she still get in trouble? But Auntie Hermione was smiling.

"No wonder you came belting in here. Did he just appear?" At April's nod, Hermione stepped around her and continued into the living room. Neville was standing beside the coffee table, dressed once more in a black suit, accompanied this time by a sky blue shirt. He had a folder in one hand, which he stretched out as he opened his arms for a hug. Hermione placed the food down and immediately obliged, then turned to introduce him to the small girl who had followed her through from the kitchen and was now standing behind her with a somewhat shy expression on her face- looking remarkably like Ginny the first time Neville had seen her.

"Hi Neville. How are you? Let me reintroduce you to someone very special- this is April Potter. April, this is Neville, an old friend of mine. He was at school with your parents and I. You won't remember him, but he knew you when you were just a wee baby." Neville squatted down and offered April his hand. Reassured about his presence because Auntie Hermione had given him a hug and called him a friend, April stepped forward and shook with him.

"Hi." She overcame her shyness enough to speak. "Did you really know mummy an' daddy?"

Neville's smile charmed her. "I certainly did. Your dad was a great mate of mine. And your mum was very pretty- just like you!" He winked. Immediately April was under his spell.

"Me an' Auntie Hermione were havin' lunch. D'you want some?"

"My, what wonderful manners you have." He glanced up at Hermione, "Bet your aunt taught you those huh?"

She smiled. "April's certainly turned out to be quite the charmer when she wants to be. Not unlike someone not too far from me."

He grinned at her. "Why thank you Hermione."

April glanced between the two and tugged at Neville's hand, which she had retained. "Lunch." she said, getting back to what to her was the important and comprehensible issue at hand.

Neville glanced at Hermione, "Reminds me of someone we used to know.'

Her answering smile was tinged with sadness, "Yes, she does rather."