Chapter 3

The evening of her eleventh birthday was a Thursday, and nothing was going on in her house but a little bit of magic, cake, and music. Black Forest cake with heavy amounts of whipped cream and canned cherries, old musicals banging over the stereo, and Hermione stringing together charms so the air was filled with different pieces of magic. Little objects that she'd transfigured into flying birds, brooms, bubbles, or what-have-you were flying around the room and Hermione was enjoying this one night that she was allowed to do magic however she wanted without her parents restricting her.

Hermione was practicing a new charm with her hand, banishing objects. Her parents had only just given her permission to try it, so long as she only did it to small things like pens and didn't try it on the vegetables they put on her dinner plate. Tomatoes really deserved to be banished, in Hermione's opinion, but she had promised not to so her parents would let her even do the spell.

Regardless of the restrictions, she was having genuine fun with her kitsune and her magic. Daedalus (she'd decided to name the little fox after the Greek inventor from mythology only after seeing the little kit turn into a bird) was happy to jump around and chase the flying plane models and party decorations that were Mathilda-ing around the room and he was even more excited to jump to the highest place on his massive cat climber to do so, sometimes landing unceremoniously on his stomach instead of paws or on top of her dad who was sitting on the couch. It was as if the fox didn't know it could just turn into a bird and fly to grab the planes, but Hermione supposed Daedalus was allowed to have fun in his own way.

Knock, knock, knock.

Hermione's parents looked at her and she immediately waved her hand and banished the little transfigured decorations to the corner so they could make sure whoever it was didn't see the magic. With another movement, Daedalus jumped onto her lap and shifted into the blonde and black cat he was whenever guests arrived. With everything done, she grabbed the piece of cake she'd neglected and took a sugary cherry on her fork to eat.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger," Hermione heard from the entry hall, "I am Professor Minerva McGonagall. May I come in?"

"Actually, we're just celebrating a birthday," her dad said.

"That's why I'm here," the voice responded. "I'm aware you've had visits in the past, yes? You know about the school I represent? Hogwarts?"

There was shuffling, and her dad's head popped around the corner. He gave her a smile. "Hey, sweetheart, do you mind if another witch joins your party?"

Hermione gave him an enthusiastic nod, although she couldn't smile properly if she didn't want to show half-chewed cake. He chuckled.

"Alright then, come right on in!" he called to the hallway. Dad plopped himself on the sofa and motioned towards the corner of flying things. "I think you're safe, sweetheart."

Daedalus shifted back into his nine-tailed form and Hermione released her little pantheon of mischief and they started flying again just as an older lady made her way into the living room with her mother. When she paused in the doorway with her eyes widened, Hermione took a good look at her.

It was definitely an older person, older than her mum and dad. She had graying hair that was pulled back in a stern bun, and green robes that reached down to her feet. Glasses and a pucker about her lips made her seem stern, but the way she was looking around the room didn't express it the same way. She looked … amazed?

"This is magic," she seemed to say it with a touch of wonder. Her eyes turned to Hermione. "You did this?"

"I've been practicing. Want to see?" Hermione asked excitedly, extending a hand. One of the little flying planes (this one was a model daddy Granger built, as he liked to do in his spare time) came to her hand when she called it. "Finite Incantatum." The engine in the small plane stopped. "I could make it start again, but I want to show you another trick I learned. Avifors."

The grey Bristol Beaufighter TF10 turned into an equally grey bird. The bird was set to take off, but Hermione muttered, "Petrificus Totalus."

When the bird froze in her hand, she looked up apologetically to the visitors. "Sorry. I know its mean not to let them fly, but dad gets cross if I let his model planes get away. He spends hours on them."

Minerva gaped. "Dear child, where did you learn all these spells?"

"One of the Ministry workers bring books every now and again," her mother interjected. "It is really kind of him. She's taken to it quite well without a wand, we think."

"'Quite well' seems an understatement," the lady said primly. She extended a hand to Hermione, who took it immediately. "I'm Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Mistress at Hogwarts. That transfiguration spell you just did is a second-year spell, Miss Granger. I must say I'm impressed."

"You teach transfiguration?" Hermione bounced up, scaring Daedalus away and ran to the bookshelf, pulling a book from the shelf. It was a well-worn, or well-loved, copy of Fawley's Complete Index for Spell Reversals and Everyday Magic. She saw Professor McGonagall take it in with avid interest. "I tried this last week, but I couldn't do it!"

"Ah, clothing charms," the Professor said with a smile at the page. She didn't see Hermione flinching at the glare her mother sent her way. "It's something nearly every girl from Fourth year up wants to know. Now changing the fabric from one to another is fairly standard, but what exactly were you trying to do to your dress? Most of it is charm-work, very little transfiguration."

Hermione bit her lip. "I … It was too big."

"Hermione, what have we said about being honest with what we're using magic for?" her mother said sternly from the couch. "Tell the Professor why you truly wanted to change your dress. If she's going to be your teacher, you will need to be completely transparent with her as well."

The girl huffed, and Minerva watched the exchange closely. She could tell they'd had this conversation many times over the years.

"I'm sorry, mum," Hermione's arms sagged. "Professor, Julie is always just so … pretty. I always feel so ugly. I thought if I could change my dress to be like hers, I might be pretty."

"We've forbidden her from using the beauty charms in that book," her mother told Minerva quickly. "She should be comfortable in her own skin first, and we won't permit her to try to change herself to some vapid expectations. She thought she'd go around the rule by transfiguring fancy clothing. We want her to be able to do it, certainly, but only for her own growth; we don't use magic for selfish reasons, right Hermione?"

"No," the girl sighed, slumping into her chair.

McGonagall observed the scene with acute amusement. "I am surprised to see you have such a good handle on magic in your household."

The family straightened. "Thank you, but this is a little off topic. We have some concerns about Hermione attending your school. Won't you please have a seat?"

Once McGonagall sat, Hermione started picking at her cake. They'd talked about it, but she was embarrassed that her parents were going to do this to someone so important. Church was necessary and Hermione knew that, but she really wanted to learn magic. They weren't going to let her if she didn't go to church every week.

"Would you like some cake?" Hermione jumped up, hoping to please the stern witch before her parents ruined everything. At her slight nod, Hermione successfully levitated a piece of cake onto a plate and brought it over to the teacher. The woman gave her a prim smile that still made Hermione feel about an inch tall.

"Now, what is it you wish to ask?"

"We understand that the students are confined to the school," her mother started it off. "True?"

"Of course," McGonagall replied. "For the safety of the students."

"And we understand that," Dan interjected, "but what about the religious students?"

McGonagall's eyes softened and she turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, you wish to participate in muggle religion while at Hogwarts, is that it?"

Hermione bit her lip. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

"As it happens, we have a few students in the school who do participate in muggle religion or their wizarding equivalents," McGonagall assured her. "Now, first, what faith is this?"

"We're Mormons," the Grangers told her. "A type of Christian."

"Ah," McGonagall nodded. "Not one usually seen in the wizarding world, Christians. I'm afraid I don't remember all the rules …. Are there any dietary restrictions?"

The couple shared a look. "Nothing that you should be feeding our daughter, regardless. No tea, coffee, or alcohol. I trust nothing you use in classes for the students has tobacco in it?"

"No," but McGonagall thought about it. "Maybe. I will need to ask Sybil what's in that incense she uses in the tower if your daughter decides to pursue Divination. And we'll have to skip tea leaf reading in that case as well. And we'll check with our Potion's Master to see if any of our medicines contain the plant or any alcohols. Any others?"

"No."

"And I presume you have a weekly worship?" McGonagall continued.

"Yes, and if Hermione can't come home for Sundays we need to figure out where the closest meeting is," her mother asserted.

McGonagall took out a quill and made a note on her sheet. "Unfortunately, students need to be accompanied to their religious meetings directly by a faculty member. Our Muggle Studies Professor, Charity Burbage, takes a group Fridays to a mosque in London and Sunday morning to mass."

"We don't want to cause problems, but we aren't Catholic," her parents reminded the Deputy Headmistress. "Mass isn't her service."

Hermione shrank into her seat, but to her eternal relief the elder witch didn't seem put out by her mother.

"Of course," Minerva said, looking down her sheet. "So with Miss Burbage busy taking other students to their religious gatherings, we'll have to find a staff member you're comfortable with to accompany Miss Granger to hers."

"We can't just take her?" the parents asked.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "Unfortunately not. According to the Ministry, during the school year Hogwarts is responsible for all muggleborn students. To leave her with you when she's supposed to be at school would be termed as neglect. Not accurate, but unfortunately policy."

"What about non-muggleborn students?" Dan asked shrewdly. "Are you responsible for them as well?"

The teacher sat up straighter. "Not to that degree. So long as we give the child to a magical parent, then we are in the clear."

"That's not fair," Hermione protested. "Mum and Dad don't have magic."

"As I said, it is a mandate. Not one I'm proud of, mind, but that is how it is," she reminded them. "Don't worry, though. We will make some kind of accommodation for your daughter to attend your worship. Are there any buildings for your faith near Inverness?"

There was some discussion, but after a while Mrs. Granger just couldn't keep it in anymore. "Dan, I'm going to speak with Professor McGonagall for a moment in the study. You know, about our other concern."

Dan nodded, but Hermione popped up from her seat and grabbed her hand before she could leave and gave her a look of pure panic.

"She agreed though, mom!" Hermione pleaded. "Please let me go to Hogwarts, please?"

Emma gave her daughter a genuine smile. "Of course, darling. I just want to make sure she knows the rules, right?"

It was a white lie, but there was no perfect way to parent a magical child. Especially one who has an independent streak a mile wide. Hermione wouldn't hesitate to sick Daedalus on her father and slip away to eavesdrop on their conversation if there wasn't some sort of explanation.

After leading the woman to the study and shutting the door behind them, Hermione's mother began telling the woman about their interaction with Samantha a few months prior. When she expressed her worries about Hermione's future, the elder witch only gave her a tight-lipped nod of acknowledgement.

"So there is this inequality at your school," Emma sighed.

McGonagall levelled her gaze at the woman. "Not if I can help it, me nor the Headmaster. Our staff work hard to allow the learning environment to be a safe and educational one for all students. With your daughter as advanced as she is, there shouldn't be a problem.

"However," she continued with pursed lips, "I have experienced some, erm, difficulties in placing our muggleborn students after they leave the school. Your fears are not completely unfounded."

"Well, what are we to do?" the muggle woman insisted. "We're not allowed to keep our daughter from your magical school – they told us you'd take her away if she used magic again – and we can't let our daughter grow up uneducated towards her future."

Emma paused. "I guess we could send her lessons, try to prepare her for her GSCEs and A-levels. Have her take tests each summer and get her studied up. But is there any support there at the school to help her with this?"

"I will ensure it."

There was a moment's pause before McGonagall broached another topic. "Was that a baby kitsune I saw with your daughter before?"

"That fox never leaves Hermione's side for long," Emma told her with a smile. "Sleeps in her bed, weaves between her legs when she walks …. It nearly breaks her heart to leave Dae at home for school, even though we added him to family a year ago."

McGonagall pursed her lips at this – not maliciously, but thoughtfully – and nodded at the younger adult. "It listens to the young Miss Granger?"

"As much as anyone does," the woman nodded. "I believe that's normal for familiars in your world, or so I've been told."

A quirk of McGonagall's brow. "I presume it was a Ms. Wright who elightened you as to that particular term."

"Yes, when we went to her pet shop in Bromley," the muggle mother confirmed with a small smile. "Hermione needed to see some birds to get that bird-summoning spell right, so we took a trip. That little nine-tailed fox ambushed us and they've been inseparable since."

"A strange familiar, especially for a witch so young, but I've seen stranger in my years," McGonagall acknowledged. "Well, Hogwarts tends to only allow three types of pets within Hogwarts; owls, cats, or toads. But," she raised her hand at the mother's concerned face, "we wouldn't dream of separating a child from their familiar. Your daughter will be allowed to bring her kitsune to Hogwarts. Of course she will be in classes and may not be able to care for the fox at her leisure, but we have house-elves – magical helpers – that take care of any welcomed creature's needs while with us. He will be taken care of.

"Please ignore that section of her Hogwarts letter and inform your daughter she may bring her familiar on three conditions …"

Their discussion continued over the finer points of Hermione's future school days, her health and safety, and when it ended McGonagall left into the night with none of those lighter topics but instead some rather heavy thoughts about the young witch she'd just visited. Luckily she had a year before they had to figure out what to do with the tender-aged Miss Granger.

McGonagall's notes on Hermione would go uncovered for the rest of the year until it was time for the pre-term school staff meeting put on by the Headmaster. She reviewed all the new muggleborns that had received or would receive their letters by the fall start and her notes on each of the meetings. There was a growing reluctance to send kids to boarding school amongst muggleborn parents, but they all had agreed in the end.

The staff filed into the room, heavy with notes from the past year and sometimes a stack of grading. Severus Snape walking in with nothing at all, head high and his robes billowing behind him. The only one to arrive after him was the purple-covered Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Good day, everyone!" he greeted cheerfully. "Another year ended, a wonderful one too. Well done!"

"Tell that to Barry," Vector huffed from her seat. "Another Defense Professor gone, this time offed by slugs."

"Beauty is not a requirement for teaching," Severus pointed out with a self-deprecating smirk. "He was probably running from the students. Lord knows what they'd do to a Defense Professor who was bested by a flesh-eating slime."

McGonagall sighed and hit her head. "Can we get on with the meeting? I, for one, would like a small vacation."

"Right you are, Minerva. First, the financials for next year."

They went through budget division, curriculum changes, and recommendations for the empty Defense post. Then Minerva handed out a list of muggleborn students.

"A few concerns for this next year," Minerva commented. "With more muggleborns, we'll need all of you actively looking out for any deficiencies in their knowledge. Heads especially. The cultural differences are rather extreme. And we have one muggleborn with a magical familiar that should, perhaps, meet with you, Silvanus – are you familiar with caring for a kitsune kit?"

Professor Kettleburn was suddenly very attentive to the meeting. "A kitsune, you say? I'll have to brush up on my East Asian creatures. They are rather rare, aren't they? However did this muggleborn come across one?"

"Unbelievably, at a muggle pet store run by one of our previous muggleborns, Miss Samantha Wright," Minerva said with a smile. "From your house as I recall, Pomona. The kitsune belongs to Miss Granger and the familiar bond was quite apparent, as I recall. Make sure to inform the elves, Albus, and consult with Silvanus for its care and diet for when Miss Granger is in classes."

Minerva checked that item off her list then scrolled down.

"Another matter for Miss Granger. Charity, Mr. Finch-Fletchley will be joining your group for mass in the Fall," McGonagall informed the Professor. "However, a staff member will need to accompany Miss Granger to her service in Iverness each Sunday as well."

Severus scoffed. "Naïveté, thy name is religion. What, pray tell, does the girl practice?"

"She's Christian as well, but attends to the Mormon faith," McGonagall read from her sheet. "Oh, and Severus, do any potions in Poppy's stores contain tobacco, coffee, tea leaves, or alcohol? The girl can't drink any potions with those."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course she can't. Luckily for everyone, the board would kill us if we handed out liquored potions, tea leaves and coffee have no medicinal qualities besides as stimulants, and tobacco is only used in salves. She will have no need to drink that ingredient. Simply inform Poppy not to provide the girl with Pepper-Up when she returns from holiday."

"Wonderful," McGonagall gave him a condescending smile. "Now, who wants to accompany her?"

"What times?" Dumbledore asked, barely interested.

She checked her sheet. "It's a three-hour service each Sunday. Before New Years it will be 8AM, and after it is switched to 11AM."

"Perhaps you should, Minerva," Severus suggested, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. "You are, after all, in charge of the muggleborns."

"And a Head of House, and Deputy Headmistress to this old man who always leaves me to handle financials," she mocked, earning a twinkling laugh from the Headmaster, "and I still need to be in the school for the other muggleborns. So perhaps you should, Severus. You don't seem as swamped as the rest of us, and I happen to know you have a muggle suit in the back of your closet."

Suddenly the lack of parchment in front of Severus was no longer a sign of superiority, but of weakness. The Potions Master went on the offensive.

"Perhaps it should be the girls' Head of House then," he put forth. "If she ends up in Slytherin-"

"We all know there's never been a muggleborn in Slytherin, Severus," Professor Vector said with a grin. He glowered at his Slytherin co-worker. "The hat is simply incapable of the feat. Come now, take her on. Maybe it'll be good for you."

Severus rolled his eyes. "No, Septima, it will not. Perhaps one of the teachers who are not teaching the mandatory courses? They won't need the weekends to themselves."

He was promptly overruled by everyone; the blood was in the water and nothing would dissuade these sharks. Still, he persevered. "Have you all forgotten the most important part of picking a guardian for these trips? The parents must approve. I can guarantee no parent wants me so regularly around their precious daughter."

"They're muggles," Charity pointed out. "They don't know your history."

"If you make me go, I will inform them personally," Severus growled. "My place is not in a place of worship. Why can't Sybil take the girl? This hogwash is right up her alley."

The Divination Professor turned shaky at the thought. "Magic feeds the Inner Eye. I would be blind in the muggle world!"

"Win-win," Snape muttered, earning a swat from McGonagall. "Claws in, cat!"

Dumbledore silenced them all by clapping. "I think it sounds wonderful, Severus. If the parents agree, I see no reason why you should not. You are the youngest of us, after all. You can stand to run around for a few hours."

"I'll be bored," the man shot back, his frustration showing. McGonagall chuckled. "What is it, woman?"

"I think you and Miss Granger would get along quite nicely," she informed him, earning another glower. "When would you like to meet her?"