Harry Potter: How I Met Your Mother Surprising Encounters
DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and its characters, background, and situations are the creations of JK Rowling and are the property of JK Rowling, Wizarding World, and Warner Brothers. I own none of them. I do lay claim to the Woodbines and other original characters.
As I said earlier, I wrote this story because I dislike the Dramione genre of Harry Potter fanfiction. If I'm not impressed with Ron Weasley, I still think that Hermione Granger could do better with a life-partner and spouse than Draco Malfoy. Why not have her fall for someone more suitable?
Constructive reviews are appreciated.
Harry Potter: How I Met Your Mother* Harry Potter: How I Met Your Mother* Harry Potter: How I Met Your Mother
Diagon Alley August 1992
We returned to Diagon Alley in late August to pick up our new uniforms and to complete our shopping for the start of the Fall Term. As it was, it was the same day when The Boy Who Lived and a mob of Weasleys descended on Flourish and Blotts when Gilderoy Lockhart held one of his book signings. The Woodbine Party was much smaller: just Grandmother Cora, Titus and me. Grandda Uther wanted to come but something came up at work and he wasn't able to get away until later.
We stepped into the bookstore, looked around, then left. Grandmother Cora was not a Gilderoy Lockhart fan, neither was your Uncle Titus. Mum's admiration for Lockhart was not helped by the fact that his collected works constituted that year's required reading for our Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. None of us were interested in tarrying in a queue for our book purchases, especially in the cramped confines of Flourish and Blotts. I already had my required schoolbooks and while Titus might have been game for another book or three, he already showed the good sense to realize that there were better times for book-shopping. We went off to buy Titus a new cauldron instead.
We did see your Mum, Grandma Jean and Grandda Dan coming out of the store. Your Mum was beaming: she'd not only bought Lockhart's books, but she'd had them autographed.
"Hallo, Grangers!" I called.
"Woodbine," your Mum replied a little less enthusiastically. She took in Titus and my Mum, then corrected herself. "Woodbines."
"Hello, Mrs. Woodbine," she added.
"Hello, Hermione," said Mum. "I see you've been book-shopping."
"Yes, I've now got all of Gilderoy Lockhart's texts! They're super!" your Mum enthused.
"Well, I'm sure you'll enjoy them," said Mum. "He does know how to spin a story."
"Is this your Da?" she asked, looking at the tall man accompanying Hermione and her Mum.
"Oh," said your Mum. "Yes, this is my Dad. Dad, this is Mrs. Cora Woodbine and her sons Tristan and Titus. I met Tristan in the library last year and Titus is about to start his first year at Hogwarts."
Grandda David gave Mum a slight bow and said "David Granger. Nice to meet you, Ma'am."
"Cora Woodbine," replied my Mum. "Are you a dentist, too?"
"Both of us are," said Grandma Jean. "We met in school, married, then set up a practice together."
"Lovely," my Mum replied. She later told me that it sounded like something wizarding folk did: they met at school, married, then go into business together.
"We took some time off from our practice to come to the bookstore so Hermione could meet this Lockhart fellow," said Grandda David.
"Well what did you think of him?" asked Grandma Cora.
"Certainly a flashy dresser," said Grandda David. "He also looks a bit like Kenneth Brannagh."
Mum and I looked at each other. Neither your Mum nor I knew who Kenneth Brannagh was at the time. We learned later that he was a famous actor on film and stage. I was not surprised to learn that Brannagh was also a good-looking bloke.
"So where are you off to next?"
"I think we've done most of our shopping," said Grandma Jean. "Uniform, textbooks, school supplies. I think we're done. And yourselves?"
"About the same way, although Titus still needs his wand," Mum replied. "His father will come directly from work to help with that. We may have to wait a bit."
"Mr. Woodbine isn't a wand-maker, is he?" asked your Mum.
"No," my Mum replied. "But it's an important day when a witch or wizard gets his first wand and my husband wants to be here to see it."
"Oh," said your Mum.
"I suppose there's a coffee shop or something nearby?" said Mrs. Granger.
"Ice cream?" Titus said hopefully.
"Yes, we could get some ice cream," Mum said to Titus.
Grandda David smiled. "Seize the moment! Normally I'd say no, but the ice cream here is extraordinary. Fortescue's, isn't it?"
"You remembered," my Mum said, impressed. "Fortescue's it is, then."
We removed to Fortescue's and we all indulged. We all had more ice cream than Grandma Jean and both Titus and I had more than Grandda David. My Mum had a little difficulty understanding what it was that dentists did besides pulling teeth, but Titus of all people had found an article in Witch Weekly of all places that argued that wizarding folk who had regular muggle-style teeth cleanings had healthier teeth and gums than those who simply relied on magic. The older Grangers were intrigued and asked him if they could keep it.
The topic shifted over to genealogy. Mrs. Granger said that she'd been in touch with her Aunt Caroline and that her aunt had been inspired to start looking over old parish records. That got my Mum excited. "I seem to recall that some of my family originally came from up that way," she said when Grandma Jean said that there were some Harrows and Corbys from Nottingham.
"Oi, Titus, how would it feel to learn that Granger is distant cousin?" I teased.
Titus looked a little uncomfortable. I think it had less to do with the fact that your Mum was Muggle-born than the fact that she was a girl.
"Dunno," he replied.
"Could be worse," Grandda David put in. "We could all be related to that notorious highwayman that none of us will want to talk about."
"Highwayman?" said Titus.
"You know, the one that pulls out his pistols at unlucky travelers and says "This is a robbery! Stand and deliver," said Grandda David, pointing imaginary pistols at Titus.
"Were we related to any highwayman?" asked Titus.
"I don't know," said Grandda David. "But if Aunt Caroline and your Aunt Muriel set themselves to it, we may find out."
If Diagon Alley is one of the major crossroads of Wizarding Britain, then Fortescue's was one of the places where you would likely see someone you knew. A couple of my fellow Slytherin year-mates showed up and ordered. Their eyebrows raised when they saw us talking with the Grangers. Not all of them recognized our year's precocious Gryffindor, but they did see that we were dining with Muggles. Most of them confined themselves to raised eyebrows, although a couple of them gave the Grangers and us cold looks. My friends exchanged hellos and we agreed to get together on the train.
Our time at Fortescue's came to an end. The Grangers finished their ice cream, then ordered some water to wash it down. Your Mum told me later that it helped dilute the sugar still lingering their mouths. After that, they took their leave and left.
My Da appeared shortly afterwards and we all walked over to Olivander's so Titus could buy his wand. This was not a rite of passage that we did alone: we Woodbines did it with family. I'd wondered how long it would take for Titus and his wand to find each other. After spending my summer holidays at home with him after months at Hogwarts, I realized that my mental picture of my younger brother and the real Titus were not the same person.
Titus' wand-shopping took a surprisingly short time. Mr. Olivander quickly discerned that Titus' wand would have a unicorn core and after trying several wands using several different woods, matched him with a wand made of popular. I was no master of wand lore: I only knew a little bit. But Titus' wand wood caused me to wonder whether Titus would be a Slytherin after all. We returned home shortly afterwards, both Titus and I prepared to spend a year at school.
That weekend, Roger Phillips held an end-of-summer party. Or rather, his family did. We flooed in from wherever we were to celebrate or commemorate the end of summer and another year of study at Hogwarts.
The Phillips lived in a large, rambling flagstone cottage located to the north of Birmingham. It had originally been built by a Muggle manufacturer who'd done well around the time of the First Great Muggle War, then fell upon hard times in the 1930's. Roger's Phillips great-grandparents, both members of the wizarding world, bought him out and moved in. They spent many happy decades living there after remodeling the house for use by Wizarding folk. They'd eventually passed away from the epidemic of Dragon Pox that carried off many wizards and witches around the end of the First Wizarding War, but Grandmother Phillips still lived on the property and kept up the gardens.
They are lovely gardens even to this day. They are not only places of beauty and tranquility but are also an herbalists' delight. The Phillips cottage is located near a couple of much larger and grander houses that are parts of Muggle great homes of Britain tours and I find it ironic that busloads of Muggle tourists regularly and unknowingly pass within a half a mile of one of the most beautiful gardens in England.
Of course back then I was less interested in gardening than I was in the people who were in those gardens: my mates and some of the girls I wanted to impress, particularly Camilla. Camilla had come by floo in the company of friends, mostly girls she'd befriended during her time at Hogwarts. She'd also made friends with a couple of girls from the year before ours, including one Clotilde de Verre, a girl who was related to several of the Old Families. Despite the fact that her family's background was insufficient to classify her as being a member of the Sacred 28, Clotilde had adopted many of their noxious views. So had a couple of the girls who'd chosen to become her sycophants.
I was sharply reminded of Clotilde's obnoxious opinions when I was relating the story of my Mum and Mrs. Granger comparing genealogical notes and our mutual suspicion that we Woodbines and Grangers might be distantly related when Clotilde cut in just before I related Mr. Granger's quip that we might discover our link to some unknown Muggle highwayman.
"Why would any witch or wizard choose to muck around in such filth?" asked Clotilde. "Mudblood is mud-blood."
"Beg pardon?" I said, giving Clotilde a chance to back down.
"Mudblood is mudblood," said Clotilde. "Muggles are little better than vermin and Muggleborn witches and wizards are our inferiors."
"Miss De Verre, many of the wizarding community of Britain and Ireland have Muggle forebears," I stated politely. "If they aren't Merlin and Morgana come again, they're quite adequate witches and wizards."
"No Mudblood witch or wizard can possibly be the equal of any pureblood witch or wizard," Clotilde pronounced. Conversation stopped dead in its tracks and the people standing within earshot of us stared at the both of us.
"Tristan, you misspoke," said Camilla. "Shouldn't you apologize?"
I felt something shift inside my thoughts. I realized that my thoughts and those of pureblooded bigots had come to a parting of the ways.
"No," I replied. "I see nothing to apologize for. I was relating a story, I was insulting no one, and I think it's entirely possible that half-blooded witches and wizards might have non-magical common forebears."
"Filth," said Clotilde. "I think you should leave."
"Miss de Verre, may I remind you that it's not your party?" I said. "You are not the hostess. We are all guests here."
Clotilde looked daggers at me. "I've heard enough, then," she said. "Come away, ladies. Let's leave this Blood Traitor and his filthy thoughts to himself." And with that, she and her entourage walked away.
Camilla walked away with them, but not before she mouthed a "How could you?" at me.
I stayed at the party for several hours more. I suspect that Clotilde's remarks and Camilla's reaction was spreading around, but I decided that Clotilde would not drive me away. I stayed with my mates, made small talk with the older witches and wizards, then took my leave after I'd decided that I'd spent enough time at the Phillips' to show that I hadn't left the party in disgrace. I went to bed that evening with a sour taste in my mouth and hoped that I'd be able to make up with Camilla when we returned to Hogwarts.
