Disclaimer: This is all for fun, I do not claim ownership of the characters or anything recognized from the work of JK Rowling. I am only borrowing them.
Warning: Mature themes, subject to change: mild violence, scenes of a sexual nature as well as general innuendo smattered throughout, adult themes including but not limited to death and disease both mental and physical.
[A/N] If there is an interest, I will include playlist recommendations including what I listen to when I am writing each story.
Thank you to everyone who has started following and has favorite this story so far, I appreciate each one of you! Have a happy 4th of July!
Wednesday July 13th, 2005 | 1:06 pm | Surrey, 19 Aster Way House
Beads of sweat trickled down her back as Hermione pulled another weed from within her flowerbed. It was a hellishly hot summer in London and the screams of neighborhood children playing in sprinklers and pools filled the air almost as thoroughly as the humidity. Hermione's muscles rolled beneath her shoulders as she methodically plucked the stubborn weeds beneath the asters and rosebushes.
As she grasped a bloom from her white rosebush with her dragon hide gloves, a shadow passed over her. Not even pausing with her shears she deftly severed the bloom from the bush and placed it in her basket, beginning the game of silence she was determined to win today. The acrid smell of a Muggle cigarette filled the air above her.
"You shouldn't brew yet, Granger."
Hermione continued to ignore him, snipping another bloom and a third before closing the lid on the basket next to her. Standing, she felt her bones and joints protest audibly.
"If you need more Capitis Nausea Fulgarix I can bring you some I brewed last night."
Pushing up the brim of her hat, Hermione brought her gaze to meet the condescending frown of Draco Malfoy as he took another drag of his cigarette. She could tell he was physically stopping himself from letting his eyes wander over her face and body, a clinical review that she was very much not in the mood for.
"You're not my Healer," she sneered, plucking her gloves off her hands and brushing the dirt from her bare knees.
With a scoff, Draco snuffed out his cigarette and made a show of flicking it towards the driveway, but it vanished before reaching the ground. "No. But when has that stopped me? We were in the same courses, Granger, you know I'm right."
Hermione merely picked up her supplies and basket. A small brown shed housing her gardening tools for her less volatile plants leaned against the back of the little used garage. Draco followed behind her and she wondered how he hadn't sweat through his button up and slacks in this heat. Her hair was a near literal halo around her head with corkscrew curls going every which way; she could feel the smears of dirt on her arms and legs where her shorts and shirt left her skin exposed. After locking the shed and heading into her kitchen through the back sliding door she left it open long enough to allow Draco entrance while she made her way to her bathroom for a much needed shower.
A full afternoon tea spread was waiting for her as she walked back into her kitchen with clean clothes and a towel wrapped snugly around her head. She hated using a drying charm on her hair because it never failed to make it stand straight up from her scalp like she had stuck a fork into one of her electrical sockets.
Reaching for an orange biscuit, she broke it in half and set it on the plate next to the cup of tea Draco had already poured for her.
"I have the book I borrowed," he stated as he brought out a miniature version of her collection of Hans Christian Anderson short stories. Bringing it back to full size with a flick of his wrist, he slid it across the island counter so Hermione could banish it back upstairs to its correct shelf. "I think something more theoretical this time would be preferable."
Ignoring his comment Hermione said, "I see you have taken my suggestion of using white roses instead of yellow in your Capitis Nausea Fulgarix. Did the Arithmancy tests hold true then?"
"Don't be petulant. You know I had to let those cads in Theory run those tests before tampering with any precious Derwent Designs brews. It would be a lot easier if you just-"
A glare silenced him as thoroughly as a charm. Draco just sipped his tea, the only thing betraying his deep set annoyance the lines around his eyes as he stared out the window above the sink. Hermione unwound the towel from her head and sent it to the hamper at the end of the hall, letting her still slightly damp hair cool the heat the sun had kissed into her shoulders.
"The boiling level for the white roses worked as a better fusion point with the diced ginger root and powdered root of Puffapod."
Still quiet, Hermione finished her cup of tea and the solitary orange biscuit. She had become quite adept at the game of silence that Malfoy had started years ago while studying their Healer's courses.
"Theory had the hardest time verifying the use of an amethyst purified by the dark of the new moon being worn by the brewer and you know it, Granger." Draco delicately put his now empty cup on the counter near hers as she poured another cup for each of them. Leaning towards her over the tray he hissed, "Alchemy isn't always welcome at those round tables."
"They are pig headed fools in Theory and I would appreciate less prodding in that general direction, Malfoy. Removing Alchemy study from Potions theory would be like removing the cauldron from the lab and if they wish to view it otherwise then I will have no part of that! It's much more entertaining for me to let you run interference with the absolute crock of a department that St Mungo's is sponsoring."
"Reducing me to running interference may be entertaining for you, Granger, but I assure you that I have much more… pleasurable ways to spend my time."
"If you tell me one more time about that lovely thing that Astoria does with her teeth I may scream."
Thursday July 13th, 2005 | 8:45pm | Surrey, 19 Aster Way House
There really was nothing wrong with a spot of tea before bed; she had even thought to ask Healer Horner that question while reviewing her lengthy and sordid dietary restrictions. Further logic dictated that if she could have a spot of tea before bed then it would stand to reason that including a finger or two of Ogden's wouldn't matter that much.
That was how two owls found her on her back porch as the sun was setting. She had formidably warned those that frequently contacted her that an owl should only be sent to her during daylight hours in dire emergency, and really it was better just to Apparate into her garage with that sort of news.
With the Dursleys living just a short distance away it stood to reason that owls during the day would attract too much attention. Besides, she really did not want to speak to Harry's foul aunt and uncle about it again. Her mere presence had caused them to row several times and short of threatening magical violence there was not much she could do; she had looked too hard for a home like this and refused to move away on their account. Letters from the association on the presence of unauthorized pet owls carried fines and stern words and it was not a great leap of the imagination who had reported such sightings in their neighborhood. The last man from the board who shown up at her doorstep had been soundly Confunded and that kind of action repeated brought the attention of the Ministry. Once in the name of secrecy was one thing, but hexing everyone just because she wouldn't pay the fines would not be swept under the rug.
Standing up slowly from her reclined lawn chair and placing her teacup down on the table beside her, Hermione held out her hand for the two letters. A low-energy Summon put them right into her palm; she doubted in her current state she could be trusted to grab them otherwise. The two owls took a drink from the perch she had hidden behind several layers of vines at the end of her porch. Cages caught attention, but vine covered lean-tos were normal around here.
Both owls stayed perched beneath the cover. Hermione glared at the dark corner where they both had roosted, swaying a bit as she grabbed up her teacup, then drained its contents with an unsteady sway to her hips. "I suppose that means they want an answer tonight, is that it?"
Terminus hooted at Hermione at her tone and began to clean his already pristine feathers. Harry and Ginny's eagle owl could hardly be blamed for her lack of enthusiasm at needing to read the missives now. The Hogwarts owl that had flown in with him was pecking lightly at the food in the dish next to the water, oblivious to the exchange between human and bird.
Deciding that it would be easier to deal with the one with the Potter crest in white wax first to get the worst out of the way, she broke the seal and tapped the parchment to read the letter to her. Her eyes were too blurred to be trusted at this point.
Dear Hermione,
I was glad to receive your note that you would be joining us on the 30th. Harry doesn't know yet but I really haven't forgotten it's his birthday the next day and we all plan on celebrating with him. James will be helping me decorate the house while you all are at Hogwarts. Ron said he would be sending Lavender over with Jasper and June so I expect you to pray for infinite patience. You have heard she is pregnant again, right? They both swore that they had been blessed enough with those twins, but I'm sure it's less of a shock to the rest of us as it is to them.
Harry wanted me to tell you that he is looking forward to seeing you since he missed you at the Ministry this week. Stop it, James; the wall is not a canvas! Sorry, Hermione. James has been a right terror so I've been using a Quick Quotes Quill the past few weeks for all my letters. James and I send our love and I'm sure Harry does, too. Let me know when you are getting your robe fitting done for the ceremony and I'll meet you at Madam Malkin's.
Ginny
Knowing Ginny she would take advantage of the afternoon away from her son and drag Hermione across Diagon Alley after the fitting. Maybe she could convince Ginny that Muggle stores would be a better option. Hermione wouldn't be able to trust herself if a reporter tried to speak to her within the next two days let alone the next two months. If it meant that she wouldn't be cajoled into another afternoon trip like this until after graduation then going now would be worth it. Besides, she would get to see her godson.
Penning a quick reply to Ginny, Hermione confirmed that meeting at the Leaky Cauldron mid morning on this Saturday would work well for her and watched as Terminus flew off into the nearly dark sky. The Hogwarts owl followed his lead, not waiting for a reply from its sender which made Hermione more relieved than she would admit. Dousing the lamp on her porch with a flick of her wand and grasping her teacup firmly she walked back into her house through the kitchen door. The kitchen still smelled like cut ginger and lukewarm tea from her brewing that evening, which had the same effect on her as her grandmother's holiday cooking when she was a little girl. That was before she knew that magic was more than something that happened Christmas morning. Hermione breathed in deeply as she poured the rest of the tea into her cup and set the dishes to washing themselves.
She made sure she was comfortably tucked into the couch before popping the seal to the second letter.
Dear Hermione,
Thank you for getting back with me so quickly on this matter. With Ginevra out of commission for the ceremony and now Lavender as well, we should still be able to move forward with you and Harry on the west end of things. I have already ordered the robes at Madam Malkin's for you; all that's left is the fitting. I won't insult you by requesting that you confirm you have read the book I provided to Ginevra and Harry on what to expect come the end of the month. However, I will request that should you have any questions or, more likely, suggestions, please do not hesitate to contact me.
It has been too long, my dear girl. I have not seen you since just after you received your certification for Healing and I do wonder how your Muggle University classes are coming along. You are often in my thoughts and I have always enjoyed your messages. I have accepted the Potter's invitation for the post-ceremony meal and look forward to speaking with you.
Yours,
Minerva
The doctored tea had long since been drained from her cup by the time Hermione had finished reading the letter from the Headmistress. The book in question sat on the cabinet next to her arm and she judged it again for being so inadequately sized for the amount of information she was sure it should actually hold. This would all be too simple, recasting the security wards. It was all pomp and circumstance and she would bet her Order of Merlin, First Class that there would be some hack of a reporter from the Prophet there to gush about "renewing ties", "establishing new order", and all that other tripe. Mrs. Weasley was surely put out that neither of her children would be able to perform this charade. If it hadn't been so damned important to Harry that he be there for this century's proceedings she would have turned him down and let two other Gryffindors take up the mantle.
Every hundred years there were certain House specific security wards that necessitated a semi-formal ceremony to strengthen them. It was not spelled out in the thin…she would not think of it as a book, it was hardly a pamphlet…on which wards were being recast. Hermione knew there was something Minerva was not telling them but until she was able to see her face to face it was difficult to determine what that was.
The one thing that was clear was that two formally connected members of each House were required to assist. Typically the strongest bonds were those between husband and wife or through close family members like father and daughter. Hermione didn't know a lot about bonds in the wizarding world but she knew that the natural or voluntary ones were more powerful. She knew that Luna and her father would be the ones to cast for Ravenclaw just as surely as she knew Ernie MacMillan and his Hufflepuff bride would be at the East end of the castle.
Stumbling towards her bathroom she pondered on the strength of the connection she and Harry shared through her godparent status for his firstborn son and heir. A small voice behind the fog of Firewhiskey insisted that she had run the Arithmancy equations forty ways to Sunday before agreeing. Once her teeth had been properly brushed and flossed, a habit so ingrained that not even her drunkenness could subdue it, Hermione landed atop her covers and began to burrow beneath them. She fought the exhaustion as the voice began insisting that there was another House at Hogwarts that needed two people but couldn't for the life of her think of the name before passing out beneath a cocoon of quilts and afghans that effectively blocked out the light of the waxing moon outside her window.