A/N: So I lied in my lasy authors note...we decided that there was too much of a space in between the last chapter and the next one, so we wrote this up to fill in the space :)
The idea of Great Lakes Magical Institute comes from the story Brave New World by Bellerophon30
As always, please tell us if you see any mistakes of any kind, please tell us ASAP :)
Reviews and constructive critisism are accepted, flames are used to make...banana boats! :3
And on that note...
Chapter Seven: The Consequences of Manipulation
~Or~
Newton's 3rd Law
For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction ~Sir Isaac Newton
November 1st, 1994
Gringotts Wizarding Bank, London
"And you are certain of this?"
"Yes, Director. The vaults have sealed down and Albus Dumbledore has lost his access to Mr. Potter's trust vault," Snagtooth, Gringotts' Potter account manager replied.
"But the vaults have not indicated they are moving into dormancy?"
"No, Director. The vaults and the Potter magic await the next heir."
Ragnok took on a pensive look. "That means that somewhere in magic, there is another heir to the Potter family. At the same time, it means that Harry Potter can be declared as dead."
"But the Ministry and Dumbledore have made no such declaration. "
"I don't worry about what Dumbledore and the Ministry have said. Dumbledore, in my opinion, has not acted as a magical guardian should anyway. There is no indication that Dumbledore ever accompanied Mr. Potter to make your acquaintance or even explained to him about his family heritage.
"No, let Gringotts make the announcement in The Prophet and The Quibbler that Harry Potter is dead. Let us then ensure that the Potter vaults remain in waiting for the next heir and not let the Ministry or 'the wizarding public' get their hands on the Potter wealth."
November 10th, 1994
The World Below
Dr. Alcott had seen many strange things in his time as a doctor and more specifically since he had encountered Vincent for the first time. He had never seen someone heal faster from serious wounds like Vincent – until now.
"Diana, I've never seen ribs heal this fast," he began. "X rays suggest that Harry's ribs are as strong as they were before you performed CPR.
"And some of the other broken and healed bones that he has: evidence of his abuse – they are somehow being restored to an original condition as if they had never been broken."
"Is this dangerous? To Harry or others I mean?" Diana asked. She was concerned about the new life she was carrying and did not want anything to put the child she was already calling Erin in danger.
"No, Diana. I don't believe so. It is just that he is healing at a phenomenal rate and I swear that Harry is healthier now than he has ever been.
"It's almost as if it's magic."
November 15th, 1994
Hogwarts
The headlines of the Daily Prophet were not welcomed by either Dumbledore or the Ministry.
Goblins declare Boy Who Lived Dead
Potter Vault Indicates Heir is Dead
Rumors of a Blood Ritual at Hogwarts to Find Our Savior
Why couldn't they have kept things quiet? The amount of visits now by Fudge, Amelia Bones, other members of the Wizengamot were more than matched by the streams of mail coming into his office and the howlers he had received.
He had tried to sit on the news and speculation on what the destruction of the Goblet of Fire meant. He was not sure himself. Perhaps something had kept Harry from coming. Perhaps he did not know who he was: although the blood ritual would have brought him to Hogwarts regardless of whether Harry knew he was magical or not.
No, the consequences were serious and there were growing signs that the thirteen years of peace that had graced the wizarding world was coming to an end. Even Severus, never a natural optimist, had indicated that the Dark Mark on his arm was growing stronger. Couple that with the purported Death Eater attack at the Quidditch world cup during August and it appeared to his finely honed senses of discerning trends and patterns that something dark was seeking to return.
And now, due to his foolish desire to lure the missing Harry Potter out of hiding, it was most likely that the promised savior was gone.
For the first time in many years, he began to wonder if it was time for him to step aside and let another come forward and carry the burden. But as usual, when his mind turned to explore the lists of those whom he could trust to succeed him, names were scarce.
He had confidence in Minerva to succeed him as Headmistress as long as Filius stood with her: she had been his rock and compass for many years even if she failed to get the larger picture many times. But Fudge as minister was becoming an embarrassment for Wizarding Britain and now he was solidly in the pocket of Lucius Malfoy; Rufus Scrimgeour was too ambitious to remain what he had been in the past as an effective Head Auror; Amelia Bones would be a fine minister but the older families would still have issues with her both from the reputed politics of the Bones family and from her reputation as a non biddable honest and determined individual.
No one name came to the fore as a person who could combine the years of experience with the magical power and longer term vision that he had. Whether he liked it or not, Wizarding Britain still needed him.
February 28th, 1995
Hogwarts
"That's it. C'est assez, Madame," Hermione Granger said, her brown eyes flashing. She was upset. She was more than upset. She was livid.
Madame Maxime tried to calm her bright fourth year student. "'ermione, you were in no danger. No danger at all. Headmaster Dumbledore assured me that you were safe…"
"Headmaster Dumbledore assured you that I was safe? Madame, there was a reason why I left Hogwarts two years ago. I was petrified by a giant basilisk and spent several weeks in that state – and I wasn't the only student in that state. I could have died. I go to Beauxbatons where for the first time in three years I am safe in a magical school and then this year.
"This year we come back here to participate in a tournament which hasn't been held for two centuries because students got killed. And voila, a blood ritual is used to summon a missing boy. That's dark magic. I make friends with the Durmstrang champion and I get dangerous mail because people believe I used love potions to lure him to my side: never mind that the guy was lonely and only wanted a friend. I was a mudblood and what would someone of his caliber want to see in me anyway.
"And now, because of that friendship, I was shoved underwater in February without so much as a request for my participation…I could have drowned or worse. No, that's it.
"I'm intending to speak to my parents in the next two weeks and if possible, I'm coming out of this school and this castle."
The Beauxbatons Directrice could only shake her head. She knew a lot about this bright young witch and she herself was beginning to wonder just what kind of school Dumbledore was running here.
May 11th, 1995
The World Below
"That scars really faded," Steven, Harry's tunnel companion and fellow freshman stated. "I remember when it would look really red."
"And the nightmares are gone too," Harry remarked as they walked into the classroom in preparation for the summative test on the Middle Ages for Social Studies.
"Did Uncle Joe get the Yankee tickets?" his friend replied in anticipation.
"No, he's a real Mets fan. I told him that he liked losers and that he would never learn."
June 16th, 1995
Crawley, England
Emma Granger looked carefully at her only daughter. Hermione's chin was firm and her eyes were fixed on those of both of her parents.
"So you finally agree with us?" she asked her.
"Yes, Mum. I want to continue magical education, but it's time to mix it with non magical studies."
"And Beauxbatons?"
"A good school. I made good friends there. But they still have those attitudes about magicals and non magicals: they had difficulty believing some of the things I told them that non magicals could do.
"And it's too close to Hogwarts. Plus I heard rumors that the Wizengamot – that's the wizarding legislature – is thinking of passing a law stating that all British citizens with magic must complete their education in a British magical school. That would mean that I would have to go back to Hogwarts – I swore that I would never set foot in that school again."
"Did you hear from any more reliable sources?" Dan Granger, her father asked.
"I got an anonymous note from someone, but the writing looked suspiciously like that of Professor McGonagall, the one true friend I had there among the staff. The note confirmed that Headmaster Dumbledore is arguing that we need to ensure that all British citizens are trained by British schools."
"So what do you suggest?" Emma wanted to know.
Hermione swallowed. This was it. "You've always been talking about setting up a clinic in America away from the NHS here: something about more scope for practice there." At her parents' nod, she continued.
"I was checking out one school in the States, Great Lakes Magical Institute, and they seem to encourage a balanced approach to both magical and non magical studies….
"Go on, dear," Emma encouraged. This was going exactly as she and her husband had hoped since the early March conversations.
"Well, I wrote to the school and the President of the school has encouraged me to come out for a visit in early July provided we are already in country. I got the impression that she knew that something was up here as well."
Both parents signed in relief. "Well, we've kind of thought along the same lines and we have already sold our practice here as well as our house. We intend to move to Colorado in the western United States in late June and are only waiting for you to finish with your final weeks at Hogwarts and then Beauxbatons before coming along with us," Dan told her now smiling daughter.
She rushed to embrace both of her parents. "I've got to go back only for the final task of the tournament – Madame Maxime said I could floo over to London from Hogsmeade and then meet you here at Kings Cross. She told me that she would regret losing me, but that given my concerns and the possibility of being forced to return to Hogwarts if I stayed….well, let's just say she will be glad to score one last jab at the old Headmaster."
All three members of the family hugged and Hermione felt a sigh of relief. Maybe now her life could return to some normalcy and the strange fears and terrors which had returned full force on her return to Hogwarts would indeed lessen.
June 24th, 1995
Little Hangleton Cemetary
"Blood of the enemy…" the words were running through Cedric Diggory's brain even as he worked the ropes loose around the tombstone.
The Dark Lord was in the middle of a speech encouraging his Death Eaters and celebrating the death of Harry Potter.
"…killed by his own protector," the high cold voice chuckled. "The blood contract…probably killed him for sure. I never knew the old man had that taste of the dark in him.
"Still the old fool deprived me of my revenge and he will pay. Oh yes, he will pay. But let us tend to our guest…
"Wormtail! Where is our guest? Naginissss…."
Cedric was crouching and running, his arm still in pain from the slash with the cursed blade from the small balding man Voldemort had labeled Wormtail. There in the distance he could see…
~Master!~ A sudden reducto and stone chips seared Cedric's face. Another headstone exploded beside him.
"Accio Cup." The cup flew to him just as he heard the words AVADA KA….
June 24th, 1995
Hogwarts
Cornelius Fudge was a fool, Dumbledore decided. He had spoken to Cedric Diggory and taken some memories from him before leaving him in the tender mercies of Poppy Pomfrey. There was no doubt that Tom was back and he could not ignore Peter Pettigrew standing beside the Dark Lord or the role he had played in the dark ritual which had brought him back.
Sirius Black had been innocent all along.
A search of the castle for the missing Moody revealed another tragic mistake he had made: the body of his old friend was lying in his trunk. Who had been polyjuicing themself as Moody, he wondered.
Black and Moody: two old allies dead – one at his own hand and the other at Voldemort's. How could he have been so blind?
And now the guilt of the death of Sirius Black and the remembrance of those eyes looking at him, at him alone before the Dementor had descended on him: this would haunt him forever.
August 21st, 1995
Great Lakes Magical Institute, Madison, Wisconsin
"Welcome, Miss Granger and Drs. Granger to Great Lakes Magical Institute. We are so pleased that you have decided to cast your lot with us for this fall semester," Angela McCullogh, Associate Dean for Transfers, began.
"Were there any questions regarding either our emphases or approaches?"
Hermione was excited. The library, the computers, the mixing of both mundane (as the Americans called non magical) and magical books, classes and teaching styles made her feel very much at home and safe. She could see herself picking up on her non magical studies and looking for that career that would allow her to merge both of her worlds.
"It appears our daughter has no comments to make – or is too excited to say anything," Emma smiled at Angela. "This is everything we could have hoped for."
Angela's face took on a more serious note. "We did receive a letter from Hogwarts stating that they expected Miss Granger to join them this fall as a result of the new law that passed the Wizengamot earlier this month."
Dan stiffened and Hermione's face paled. "And how did you reply, Miss McCullogh?" He asked.
"We wrote back that you had already taken out green card status in this country and that, as such under the ICW ententes, you were now considered residents of the United States, so regretfully we could not comply."
"Did they answer?" Hermione said in a small voice.
"Deputy Headmistress McGonagall herself wrote that she wished you good fortune in your future studies. She also gave us her highest recommendation for you as a student."
All three Grangers visibly relaxed and smiled at each other then at Angela.
October 13th, 1995
The World Below
"Harry, that's a landslide. We're trapped!" Steven called out in panic. "I told you we shouldn't have come here due to the recent rain."
"Look Steven, shut up! I need time to think, " Harry replied. His friend quieted and stillness descended with only the sound of water dripping.
"Steve, how many rocks did you say fell?"
"Five or six. But they're big and they're blocking up the tunnel exit."
"Show me."
Harry walked gingerly forward the few feet separating him from his friend and soon they were together looking at the few boulders which had fallen across the tunnel.
"Steve, what I'm about to do, I want your word that you're going to keep quiet about," Harry began. "Your word."
His friend quickly gave his word and Harry closed his eyes.
He had grown more and more aware of a sense of power in times such as this: a sense of being able to do things when there was a need such as now.
Reaching out with his senses, he somehow could picture the locations of each of the boulders blocking the tunnel. There, with a small shift and a slight push, that boulder.
The sudden noise of shifting rocks was deafening in the enclosed space and the two teens crouched down even as the dust billowed around them. Then, with an even louder crash, the rocks shifted again and the sound which followed was of rocks shifting and dust settling.
"The tunnel! The tunnel – it's no longer blocked!" Steven shouted, turning to Harry. "You did it. ….But what did you do?"
Harry felt only fatigue. "Steve, just remember your promise. Let's get out of here. Let's go home!"
December 10th, 1995
Hedmaster's Office, Hogwarts
"You wished to see me, Headmaster?" Neville Longbottom asked as he sat down in the Headmaster's office. This marked the first time Neville had entered Dumbledore's office.
"Yes, Mr. Longbottom. It is with a heavy heart that I must share some information with you – information that was most likely responsible for both what happened to Mr. Potters' parents and your own parents.
"I must first ask you, Mr. Longbottom, if you believe in prophecy?"
"Not really, Headmaster. My Gran despises what claims to be divination today and she says she has little time or belief in it."
Dumbledore took on a serious expression and nodded his head in agreement. "Your grandmother is a formidable woman and she has taught you well I see. However, while much of what purports to be divination these days is nothing but foolishness, there is the place for the occasional prophecy that is a true word.
What I am going to talk to you today is when I heard one such prophecy – a prophecy that concerned one of two boys.
"You see, in the year 1980 I was interviewing a candidate for a teaching position here at the school when this person issued a prophecy which in my judgment was nothing less than a real prophecy. And this prophecy concerned someone who would have the ability and the power to challenge and defeat Lord Voldemort."
Neville's face paled. "De…feat the Dark Lord…? Why would it possibly concern me?"
For answer Dumbledore produced his pensieve and played the prophecy beginning with the spectral form of Sybil Trelawney. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord…
As the deep voice faded and the image disappeared, Dumbledore looked carefully at the young Gryffindor. He had gone completely pale and his hands were clenching and unclenching as he mentally digested Trelawney's words. It was time to further explain things. But before he could continue, Neville looked at him.
"This prophecy is about Harry Potter, isn't it? He was the one marked and he was the one who somehow made the Dark Lord disappear."
Dumbledore had to nip this line of thought in the bud. "I once thought that as well, Mr. Longbottom. That is why I took the steps I did to ensure Mr. Potter was safe with his muggle relatives. But he disappeared and he has now been proclaimed dead by the goblins.
"In my opinion, I was wrong about Mr. Potter being the child prophesied to vanquish the Dark Lord. That leaves only one other – namely yourself."
If Neville's face had been pale before, he now took on the pallor of a ghost. "No…no way, sir. Harry Potter was the one who vanquished the Dark Lord on Halloween 1981. He was the one who received a mark from that night. I am…am not the child of prophecy, Headmaster."
With that he got up from his seat and made to go towards the door. However, with a subtle movement of his wand, the door remained closed and with more gestures, he steered Neville back to his seat.
"I regret this very much, Mr. Longbottom, but I am afraid that the greater good requires that there must be a child of destiny and prophecy. If Mr. Potter is unavailable, then you will have to replace him.
"Obliviate." With that the rebuilding of Neville Longbottom into the Chosen One began.
Of course, he would have to begin carefully building up the legend of Neville Longbottom to replace the story of the Boy-Who-Lived.
September 21st, 1996
The Atrium, Ministry of Magic
Neville Longbottom lay unconscious on the floor of the Atrium amidst the rubble of the statue of the Magical Brethren. Albus Dumbledore could see the slow rise and fall of his chest even as he directed his attention to the red-eyed snake like figure opposite him in the Atrium.
"You shouldn't have come here, Tom," he chided Voldemort gently.
"You old fool. At the height of my first rise you were no match for my power and now you are even older and less powerful than before. Look at how I managed to best your new champion without even breaking a sweat.
"But I owe you pain old man for taking from me one of the pleasures I was seeking: to kill the Potter whelp for what he did to me fifteen years ago. It should be his blood flowing in my veins rather than that of a common ordinary wizard such as Cedric Diggory. He did not even have the courage to stay and face me."
"Tom, do you have the courage and skill to face me now?" Dumbledore replied even as he began to flash his wand and several fragments of the statues rose up and tried to attack the Dark Lord.
Voldemort's only reply was to begin flashing a snake of fiendfyre and thus the duel began. By the time they had dueled for several minutes, the Atrium was in ruins and the flares of floo fires could be seen as Aurors and the Minister appeared. But rather than enter the fight, Fudge only stood there clad in his pajamas.
Seeing the Minister standing there, Voldemort flicked his wand lazily as his round figure. "Avada Kedavra!" proceeded the blast of sickly green and less than two seconds later the Minister was dead.
"I hate to leave you now, Dumbledore, but as you have hindered me from hearing the prophecy here, I have no wish to stay here. But there will be a day of reckoning between you and I, rest certain of that."
And with that the Dark Lord and the few Death Eaters who had escaped the Order's trap vanished in the crack of apparition.
May 31st, 1997
Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts
"We're fighting a guerrilla war, Albus, and both sides are barely holding their own," Minister Amelia Bones said, the fatigue in her voice clear to Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour, Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt and Deputy Undersecretary Arthur Weasley.
"His strategy appears to be conserving his forces since the ICW has set up quarantine zones around the British Isles," Dumbledore agreed. "It has become a struggle for the resources of only Great Britain."
"The ICW is not even letting Irish wizards join either side. They have even cut off Northern Ireland from us and that has never happened before."
"Why would the ICW state that neither side was walking in the light, Dumbledore?" Shacklebolt asked. "Rumor was that they labeled you as dark as the Dark Lord."
Dumbledore hung his head in shame. "I was so desperate to find Mr. Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, that I used a blood ritual to summon him the night of the TriWizard Champion selection."
Bones sucked in her breath. "You never told me about that, Albus. A blood ritual – that is dark. It would have summoned him from wherever he was and if he was unable to come, it would have killed him.
"You were so desperate to find him?"
"Yes, I was. You must remember that I had placed him in a place of safety from Death Eaters and when he disappeared at the age of nine, I had started a massive search for him. By October 1994, I had turned up no sign of him anywhere in Britain, either magical or muggle and I had no other options. He had to be found and made ready."
"And now he is dead. The goblin magic never lies," Scrimgeour confirmed.
"No wonder the ICW hasn't picked sides for this conflict," Bones continued. "And thus we are stuck in this stalemate. Neither side has sufficient resources and manpower to move decisively against the other. Instead we have these raids back and forth with an increasing death toll on both sides and Muggleborns and half bloods leaving Britain for more hospitable climes."
"A death toll that increases in part because you refuse to restrict the Aurors to stupefy and incarcerous. The goal of our actions should be to allow these lost souls to be reconciled back to us," Dumbledore snapped.
Bones was incredulous. "Are you daft Albus? Stupefy them when they can be enervated in seconds by their colleagues? No, let me make one thing clear: I've taken the gloves off the firing teams. This is war and none of my Aurors or Hit Wizards is going out there without the weapons to fight back and fight back hard.
June 10th, 1998
Great Lakes Magical Institute, Madison, Wisconsin
Dan and Emma Granger could not restrain the tears or the feelings of pride as they watched their only daughter walk up to the stage and receive her diploma in both Magical and a mundane high school diploma.
"Highest mark in the class in transfiguration, charms and history; third highest overall," Emma said, beaming even as she was watching Dan play with their six month old son.
"But I still think the greatest gift we ever got with this move to America is a daughter who is happy and a son. I still can't believe that it took just a little touch of magic to clear up the conception issues," Dan replied.
Emma blushed even as she grew warm inside thinking of the help the magical healers had been for her and Dan. It had taken Hermione's six-month placement in the school's medical wing for Hermione to discover that unlike magical Britain, magical healers would extend their services to help non-magical parents. The end result had been the conception and safe delivery of Benjamin Daniel Granger.
"Hermione thinks that there is a better than even chance that Ben will be magical also. Something about Hermione being the first and a powerful witch at that coupled with the use of magical methods to conceive," Emma continued.
"I don't care if he is mundane or magical," Daniel replied. "We are more a part of Hermione's life than ever, we have our much desired second child and Hermione will start Pre-med studies at CUNY in New York City this fall."
"Are you still certain on moving to New York City?"
"For sure! The opportunities for your specialization and my general dentistry practice are definitely there, the building in Connecticut coming up when it did was a steal and we get to be close to Hermione, but allow her to spread her wings a bit more."
Trust Dan to think of all the positive financial benefits, Emma thought to herself and then her attention snapped back to the stage as they were beginning the special award presentations. Hermione would clean up a few of these awards tonight.
June 20th, 1998
The World Below
"So young Harry, you are determined not to follow your grandfather in the noble profession of medicine," Father said, giving his grandson a playful nudge.
The tall six-foot young man stood, still dressed in his grad gown despite the fact the graduation had taken place earlier that afternoon. Harry had wanted to wear the grad gown for his father and grandfather despite Diana's videotaping of the entire ceremony for later presentation to Vincent and the other members of the tunnel community.
"Grandpa, much as I would like to be you, there is only one you. I've thought that the greatest way I could help our world would be to help learn about finance and administration. With the legacy that Catherine Chandler left our world, while we can trust some of our helpers to manage those funds, we need someone with a foot in both worlds to help as a liaison between the world below and the world above.
"And I just like the world of business. Not so much the accounting as the art of setting goals, making things happen and taking the occasional risk.
"Just don't let that world seduce you, son," Vincent said, ruffling his tall son's raven hair affectionately.
"No, I don't want that world to seduce me. I have already seen and heard some pretty greedy stories, Dad," Harry replied. "But if we are not careful unscrupleous people could speculate our trust fund away. I want to ensure that Catherine's legacy for this world remains to do the work she wanted to get done."
"Just make sure that you listen to your Uncle Joe and Aunt Jenny," Diana cautioned. "They've got good heads on their shoulders and can help you keep your feet on the ground."
"Sure, Mom. But I think Jacob, Catherine and Erin will also do a good job of that. Erin says my job is to stay here and keep her company."
The assembly of well wishers gathered in Father's chambers couldn't help but break out in smiles at that comment. Perhaps he would indeed be staying in some capacity in the world below.
But first he would have to complete that business degree at CUNY.
A/N: For those of who are wondering, yes, there is a method to our madness. Hermione and Harry appear to be headed for the same school (and why not)? However, Harry must make another accidental meeting before when the wizarding world will finally appear in his life. Watch out for bicycle riders.