The Call to Motherhood

I. PROLOGUE

It was the bitter and scalding taste and temperature of the coffee I'd unthinkingly lifted to my lips that snapped me out of my drowsy reverie. I could feel the warmth of the drink warming me from the inside as I swallowed, making me shiver as I hastily pushed the coffee away and reached for a pastry.

The violet eyes boring holes into me were, of course, studiously ignored.

I tried to convince myself that I was perfectly comfortable with the situation I had somehow found myself in, but the icy silence of my breakfast companions was making it difficult. Still, I resolved not to be the one who broke first. They wanted to speak—so speak, I would let them.

The coffee house around us hummed with quite conversation. It was warm and smelled delicious, making relaxation much easier to accomplish. The bell on the door chimed every few minutes as other patrons hastily ducked into the café to escape the pouring rain and sleepy grey atmosphere outside.

The glass of the window felt cool and soothing on the skin of my forehead and on my cheek. I watched in silence as my breath spread a small mist on the glass that quickly disappeared before reappearing as I breathed out again. I was sorely tempted to draw a smiley face on the foggy glass, but refrained. I knew such a juvenile action would not reflect well on me.

"After much consideration," began the old and stately looking man to my right. "The family has come to the conclusion that you and another family member will be tasked with the upbringing of an orphan."

I lifted my head away from the glass, turning to look curiously at one of the men. "The baby Aunt Phaedra has been so secretive about?" I demanded curiously. "The one that arrived last week?"

"The very same," said the bored looking teen on my other side. Chocolate colored eyes blinked lethargically up at me as he continued. "She's important. A main character, I think, and her plot has gone awry. You and another family member will patch up this little hole in the story. Her parents have died, which wasn't supposed to happen, so you've been assigned to raise her as a long term mission."

"Oh," I said lamely. This wasn't what I'd been expecting at all. I'd been expecting another run‐of-the‐mill information gathering mission, not this. But, then again, what could it hurt? My life as it was right now was already as domestic as it could be, cross-dimensional reincarnation and information gathering job for a family of reincarnated people aside.

Raising a kid—let alone one that was apparently a main character—probably wouldn't stir up too much trouble for me since we were apparently just there to fill in the new plot-holes. It'd probably by easy, especially since I'd be stepping into the role of a background character—someone who probably wouldn't have much to do with the main plot.

"What's the kid's name?" I asked finally. I had no illusions about being able to refuse this assignment, so I instead worked on letting a sense of acceptance sink into my bones.

I was going to have to take this job, whether I liked it or not. I was going to have to spend (most likely) the next two or so decades playing house, whether I liked it or not.

"Hermione Granger."

I was going to be a mother, whether I liked it or not.

I.

Author's Note:

That was pathetically short, but I hope I managed to communicate the idea. It's an AU. SI. Family of SIs, basically. Think of something similar to "My Heavenly Judgment" but also somewhat different. I don't know if I'll continue this, but if I do, it'll probably be out sometime in mid or late November. I'm busy. Really busy.

The Other Evans Girl will probably be rewritten. It feels kind of forced and I don't like it. Expect Version 2 around the same time (mid to late November).

I deliberately made her somewhat detached and uninteresting. My intention is to flesh her character out slowly as she raises Hermione and slowly becomes more connected to this new world, this second life. She (and the other SIs) are kind of emotionally detached from this new reality since they've all died before and that's bound to have an effect on people. Their self-assigned job is to make sure the plot goes according to plan and to fix the random events/ripples caused by their mere presence in this universe. Does that make sense?

See you. Leave a review, please. I want to know what you think. I apologize if there were any typos or grammar errors or spelling errors. I wrote this after a day of classes and I'm kind of tired.