A/N: Hello and I hope everyone had a good week. I was traveling with work and have so much tolerance for the social niceties that are required when working with others. Needless to say, the last two day have been me, alone and sleeping. Seemed like a good alternative.
For those of you that are mothers (natural, adoptive, grand, gods or just act like one) I hope you are having a wonder Mother's Day (that is what today is in the states). My mom got some flowers from me and my brother make some sort of "casserole" consisting of cinnamon rolls (cut up), egg, milk, cinnamon (because you can never have enough of that), syrup and apples. Surprisingly good. I'm sure there is some recipe on pintrest or what not. I'd just google search cinnamon apple casserole and you'll probably find something.
Anyway, it seems oddly appropriate that today's chapter was written by Hermione's mother. We never really hear from them so I thought I'd give them a voice.
Thanks for the favs, follow & reviews. I do take them to heart and will mention that I'm working on a more true epilogue just because of a comment made by StrongHermione. Still working on it so it may be a few weeks before that one is published.
Finally, I still don't anything you recognize from the books or movies. I'm pretty sure I made Kitmu up but after reading so many fanficition stories who really knows. :)
*R&R**R&R*
'Amor Vincit' Chapter 4 - A potion and A prayer
By Jean Anne Granger
Raising a witch as a daughter was not something I was prepared to do, I'm not sure any muggle would even think it was a possibility. My daughter had always been special. She was a bright little girl who was always ahead of her peers in reaching milestones. That had nothing to do with her magic, she was gifted from the start. Her father and I spent her first few years with every educational tool we could come across. It wasn't until she was four that we started to notice differences between Hermione and other children. It seemed if Hermione wanted something badly enough, it would happen. Honestly, if Rich and I hadn't been there together the first time she called for something from across the room, we wouldn't have believed it possible.
We had put Hermione down for her afternoon nap and she was not pleased with us. But as is true with all children, the sleepier the child the more upset they get. That particular morning had been trying for all of us. The morning kicked off with a severe storm that woke the entire house at four in the morning with thunderclaps. Hermione, never a fan of violent weather, awoke with a start and never fell back into a restful sleep. As we started to relax and slip back into the waiting hands of Morpheus, emergency sirens were heard and got progressively louder until they were just outside our home. It appeared the loud thunderclap, that had so scared Hermione, hit the home across the street and our neighbor's home was now burning. The fire brigade was able to put it out, but with all the commotion and the sun starting to break through the clouds, Hermione made the decision to remain awake. My daughter is a lovely but stubborn girl. Once she had made a decision it is difficult to change her mind. We discovered this trait early in our daughter and had to learn ways to work around it.
After breakfast and getting her dressed we watched as the last emergency vehicles left the street. Hermione stood on the porch and looked to the house worried for her friend. The family had a four year old girl who had become Hermione's first friend. The girls would play dolls or run around the yards. The home, while not destroyed, could not be lived in. The family was waiting for permission to enter and pack some clothes. They would go live with family on the south coast. We comforted Hermione and let her know her friend was ok. We left to do our normal weekend activities including grocery shopping and picking up a few new books from the library. Even at four, Hermione was a voracious reader and we didn't have enough shelf space for all the books she wanted.
By the time we got home it past the lunch hour. I quickly pulled together some sandwiches and we ate as a family. After a bit Hermione started to nod off. At my suggestion it was nap time, she immediately woke and claimed she wasn't tired. After about thirty minutes of 'discussion' I picked up my daughter and placed her in the bed. I told her she wasn't to leave the bed. Hermione was not pleased. She yelled and cried. After about ten minutes of not getting any reaction she got mad. I know now, after speaking with parents of magical children, anger is the easiest emotion to pour into magic. I believe due to being so tired and her want to not be put into her bed, Hermione's magic awoke. She knew she would get in trouble if she tried to get out of her bed to get one of her books so she called to it. As Rich and I stood in the doorway we saw her focus on the stack of books and reach out her little hand. As if there was a string attached it, a book from the middle of the stack flew towards her. She caught it and sat in her bed reading. Rich and I were shocked. We didn't have anyone to speak to it about, so we decided to watch and document any unusual things we saw with our daughter.
By the time Hermione was eleven the list of things we had observed filled multiple notebooks. When Minerva McGonagall sat in our living room and told us Hermione was a witch, it wasn't a surprise. It had answered all our questions about our special little girl. When we were informed the school had always been aware of Hermione and her magical ability, we were upset. We had spent years worrying about how to discuss her special talents with her and to find out there was an entire world who raised magical children, we were livid. The resources available were blocked because two men wanted ultimate control. We were lucky that Hermione was a smart girl and realized she could do things that her little friend could not. She focused on her special talents and made sure to never expose herself to anyone but her father or me. We heard of other children who were raised without magical parents and they seemed to lag behind their peers. We are told the strength of one's magic is based on a 'genetic' lottery but I wonder if those children had been raised with knowledge of what they were if they would have had a better time at school.
Hermione started and excelled at Hogwarts. We weren't surprised, she always wanted to please her teachers and would work extra hard to prove her worth. Her overzealous study habits didn't start at eleven and Hogwarts. If any of her primary teachers were asked about Hermione Granger, they would all say she would accomplish anything she desired. They were right.
After her fifth year and we were told about what happened at the Department of Mysteries, we were rightly worried. Hermione confided in us that she had to go back in order to help save Harry and by extension everyone else. We didn't necessarily believe her. She had been know to be a bit melodramatic in her life. But what cause us to believe her was the sincerity and fear in her eyes. With worry, we allowed her to return to Hogwarts for her sixth year. That was the year everything in our world changed.
The letters we received from Hermione were different, they never discussed anything going on at the school and that worried me. By the time the Christmas holidays were nearing, I had decided to confront Hermione about it. It was a week before Christmas when Hermione and two wizards appeared in our living room. It didn't take long to realize Hermione was afraid. She was afraid for us. Rich wanted to leave but we talked him around. Draco explained that we would be helpless and our deaths would be used as a way to hurt Hermione. After hearing things I wish could be erased from my head, we agreed to leave. It wasn't without a lot of reticence that we also agreed to have our memories removed. Hermione explained she had come up with the theory and between the three people in our living room, they had come up with a workable solution.
I trust my daughter with my life and to prove to her my faith, I agreed. My last memory, before I forgot who I was, was of Hermione crying and wishing there was another way. Draco was holding my daughter as Rich and I took our potions. My last thought was how happy I was Draco would protect Hermione.
