Finally, something that appears like an explanation. And more Sirius at that.
Edited and Updated May 29, 2014.
…
Harry shuffled slightly in front of the parents, not able to exude the same jubilation as the children or the calm like Hermione that made them so steadfast under the parents' bewildered stares.
He crinkled his nose up briefly and looked off to one side.
Hermione cut sharp intelligent eyes to him, searching. Harry looked steadily back at her, and she was able to communicate with him, as they had always been able to: a silent type of conversation that had always left Ron bewildered and angry.
"I have never told them a lie," Harry spoke quietly. Hermione tilted her chin just so; an angle he knew meant she was considering his words.
And Harry had never lied to the Grangers. Truthfully, they had been good enough not to pry into his past, and so he had never faced the complexities of dealing with time travel. Omitting those details now, when he'd been under their roof and care for so long, twisted up a little part of him inside.
And Hermione understood.
She sighed, pulling her shoulders back and turning to her old-young-not parents. "My name is Hermione Jean Granger, and I was born to Wendell and Monica Granger (nee Wilkins) on September 19, 1979."
Wendell half stood from his seat at the news, his eyes wide while Monica gaped and covered her mouth with a hand.
Hermione swallowed and lowered her eyelashes, continuing: "On my eleventh birthday I received a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In my third year of attendance I had access to some unusual magic, and witnessed some… disturbing behavior. At that point I did everything I could to protect my family and my friends." She swallowed again, ducking her head slightly. "Because of that strange magic, I travelled through time and exist here at twenty-two years old."
Monica's wide glossy eyes slowly turned to her daughter, Minnie, and she swallowed exactly like Hermione had just. Wendell silently placed a hand on her knee, opening his fingers for her to lace hers into.
Harry cleared his throat. "Well, I was born July 31, 1980. Ahh," he blinked. "This is harder than you made it seem."
Hermione let out a small breathy chuckle and smiled at him, her head tilted and her eyes soft.
He chuckled and finished simply, "I just turned twenty."
The elder Grangers stared at them in consternation, and Minnie excitedly exchanged glances with JP. Both the kids were quiet, though their expressions communicated their eager excitement quite clearly as they squirmed in their seats.
Finally Monica choked out, "But Why?"
Hermione's expression became wounded; her eyes dark like Wendell's and open like Monica's. (Both parents stiffened, and Harry stared at her with wide eyes.) "I…there was a betrayal. And since I had been preparing and studying and, and planning since my third year I ended up here. I didn't mean to interrupt your lives," she said earnestly, her eyes wide and honest and honey colored. "Believe me, I only wanted you to have an easier time of it. And I just seem to be making a mess of this. No one's really supposed to know about time traveling but there's this whole redundant fallacy to the thing— though they say horrible things happen to those who meddle with time," Hermione looked to be gearing up for a good ramble.
Harry reached out to her and pulled her into him, calming her down. Her breath hitched in a panicky sob, and he shushed her. JP shuffled a bit, his eyes not as eager but more concerned. Minnie was biting her lip.
"Hey it's okay. Just calm down and we can all talk about this. There's nothing to do, we're already here."
She snorted and pulled away from him, carefully patting her face though no tears had fallen.
Harry felt briefly injured that she had pulled away when she so honestly needed that comfort. Minnie always stayed cuddled until she'd fully recovered (sometimes even staying on his lap longer, just because).
Hermione took in a deep breath and sat up straighter, crossing her ankles and folding her palms in her lap. He saw the marks of Ms. Banks in that posture and that stoic face. And then he heard it in the prim voice, "Yes, I do believe you're right. Anyway, I resolved to rescue Harry, my best friend, from his earlier life with his relatives and so I have been here for almost three years doing just that." She briefly smiled at JP.
The little boy grinned and then scrambled over Harry into her lap, upsetting her posture. Hermione didn't seem to mind, curling around him instead of pushing him away or scolding him.
Harry took in a deep breath but found he couldn't find any words.
Wendell's eyes were intense upon the older girl; "You took in JP, the younger Harry, when you were only nineteen?"
Hermione stiffened. "I run my own business, and the social workers decided that my portfolio of assets would make them overlook both my age and lack of marital status." Her face briefly shadowed feral, "It helped that both the Dursleys and some of the School Board wrote letters of reference."
Harry gaped.
"Wait what?" Monica stumbled out, looking betwixt the two old friends turned time travelers.
Hermione blushed and ducked her head.
"All JP ever says of Dursleys was that he doesn't want to talk about it! They seem like worthless human beings, and they liked you enough to help you!?"
Hermione's jaw set, and her expression seemed to shut down.
"Monica," Wendell started but trailed off.
Hermione's voice was once again prim, and JP leaned into her to make up for her weaker hold. "Harry James Potter was supposed to be sent to his godfather, or the surrogate mentioned in the will. Due to no fault of their own they weren't contacted. Harry was illegally with the Dursleys, and everyone who knew about it was very eager to make everything legal when the police started poking around the neighborhood."
Monica gaped slightly, her lips moving with contrition and confusion still on her face.
Wendell spoke solidly in the tension, "And Harry?"
Harry swallowed. "Hermione," he gestured to the older one, "went missing after the war." Both Granger parents startled. "It took me around three months to realize something was wrong, two weeks to finally go to our Minister, four more weeks to hobble together what might have happened, and then two more weeks after that to research and find no answers." He closed his eyes against a remembered ache, his hand coming up to press against his chest.
"It was an accident I found myself here, this far back in time, but I am doing my best to make sure Hermione isn't lost again."
Hermione let a lopsided smile fight onto her lips and Minnie ducked her head.
"So…time travel?" Monica finally managed, her voice shaky and her eyes darting between them.
"Well, yes," Hermione mumbled out—just as nonplussed as her parents, at having to explain. Harry wondered, obliquely, how many times she had to explain…or simply hadn't bothered with it for its complexities.
"And is this normal…in the wizarding world?"
"No. As I said—the accepted idea is that terrible things happen to those who meddle with time. It's very rare that they even bother for fear of the repercussions and the fact that the wizarding world is rather lazy in general and most don't attempt to study new things. Besides that, the only certain form of time travel is controlled by our ministry, and even then time turners come with a strict set of rules."
"So, you both used these 'time turners'?"
Harry started nodding his head, yet Hermione shook hers immediately. Stunned, Harry turned to her with large eyes—they had never exactly discussed the methods…and Harry had simply assumed.
Hermione's eyes cut to him briefly before turning to the stunned couple seated across from them. "I used a combination of runes and earth magic…old magic chants and blood bonds."
Monica and Wendell simply stared at her with wide eyes and confused faces.
Harry watched Hermione's wounded expression as she swallowed.
But the Grangers had absolutely no basis to understand her.
So Harry cut in, "I was absolutely lost when I discovered Hermione was missing, some sleuthing revealed that there had been an attack." He swallowed. "The Minister of Magic gave me a time turner. Though it did take me to the wrong time," he smiled lopsidedly as he admitted the last.
Monica managed a slight nod, and Wendell looked at him in curiosity.
Hermione stared at him with wide eyes, that previous wounded expression still hiding in the darkness of her eyes.
Harry, not looking at her for fear of reacting to that deep emotion, smiled weakly at Wendell and pulled at the chain around his neck.
Hermione abruptly gasped. She looked up at him and had to work her throat a while before she could speak. Her hands reaching out until she caught the device, fingering the delicate chain and caressing the hoop holding the hourglass. "This was mine."
"What?"
"This time turner was the one I used in third year!"
He startled and jerked slightly, round eyes turning from her to the trinket and back again. Hermione was entranced by the granules of sand… her sand.
"Harry this is why you came back so far, the magic had bonded to me and I was already back here. But that would mean…o goodness."
Out of breath she sat back and remained mute.
"Hermione?" he ventured.
She turned round amber eyes to him, "Harry, the earth magic in a time turner is what makes them work. The sand in here bonded to me, and my magic was part of the earth. And then you used it to find me…"
Harry blinked rapidly. "So you're saying, if I had used another time turner, I would have ended up where I wanted to go."
"Most likely," she whispered.
"I…
Wendell cleared his throat.
Both turned to the parents with wide eyes, meeting again the confused and uncertain stares of the Granger adults.
Wendell blew out a careful breath, leaning forward. "I…may we leave this conversation for another time?" And his dark eyes looked at them, entreating. "You two are confusing all of us, and it's getting rather late."
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, instantly contrite. "Yes, of course. Come on JP, you still have classes tomorrow." And Hermione and JP were bundled up to leave so quickly that Harry could forgive the older Grangers for their befuddled expressions. Even if he couldn't quite forgive them for making Hermione uncomfortable enough to act like that.
With hasty farewells the two were back on their way to Little Whinging and Harry and Minnie were staring at the two adults.
Minnie quietly pushed herself off the couch, "I'll get ready for bed."
Harry nodded and joined her upstairs, leaving the couple to their quiet discussion. When the house was silent and night had settled he snuck down to the backyard.
Padfoot loped up to him and joined him on the trek to the gazebo. There Sirius joined him.
The pair settled on the bench, staring out over city lights made foggy in the London air. "It is a bit hard to take—I at least had a nose to follow."
Harry quirked one side of his mouth up in a smile. "And a wizard's knowledge of the world—I never wondered how hard it would be for Hermione having parents who didn't understand what she did."
Sirius chuckled and stretched his arms across the back of the bench. "Prongslet, no parent ever understands what their teenager is doing."
Harry laughed but it sobered quickly. "I'm glad Minnie won't have so many adventures to edit. I'm glad we'll be here to help her parents. I…"
The Marauder sighed. "As far as I can tell you've already helped everyone Harry. The Grangers adore their Minnie, and Minnie is so open with them. In Hermione I don't see that vulnerability. In fact she rather reminds me of those pureblood etiquette lessons I had as a child…"
Harry scowled.
Sirius cleared his throat and hastily continued, "But she trusts you Harry. Just like tonight there have been a few times where some old dogs use good hearing. The things she's told you have been fantastical." He closed his eyes and tilted his head. "Then again, she's got more under her sleeve. Perhaps it is time that we have all the explanations. And we can join her, and she can join us. You told me that she was always taking care of everything—and even here she's doing that but has got no one looking out for her."
Green eyes darted to his godfather, narrowing.
Sirius barked out a humorless laugh. "Harry, that woman would not be satisfied just taking the young one in. Perhaps she has been doing her own missions? Just like you rescued me from the prison and Minnie and you helped me from the madness…
She has plans. And maybe she has better ideas about Wormtail and Romania than we. She was the smartest witch of her age right?" Sirius laughed louder, "That moniker might have to be adjusted."
Harry finally gave into a chuckle. "A part of me hates the idea of her doing anything like my missions—we were always a team. Even when Ron…even when he abandoned me Hermione was always behind me or at my side."
A hand slapped his shoulder. "There you have it. Don't wreck a good thing. Hermione and you are a team, and you both need to really talk. I've heard some of the deep and scary shit you've discussed, but old Padfoot can smell more secrets."
"I'm a little nervous to hear what else she's been doing—she always seems to take on the worst projects."
Sirius grinned his crazy grin, his grey eyes crinkled. "Yeah, she took on being your friend didn't she?"
The old dog laughed as he dodged Harry's halfhearted swipe at him.
...
It was a few weeks after the twisting explanation in the Granger house, during which the children had their now customary play dates but an adult Hermione carefully, politely avoided her once parents, when Monica sidled up beside him while he was helping with the clean up after supper. Harry, used to her presence (and presuming that she simply wanted to dry the dishes), didn't startle or expect her to clear her throat and hesitantly venture out, "Would I be able to call and talk to...Hermione?"
Harry dropped the plate back into the soapy water, blinking behind his thick lenses and stunned speechless.
Monica flushed lightly, turning to face out the window while grabbing a dish to dry.
Harry heard Wendell shift in his seat with the day's paper, and darted eyes over there to see the curious stare of the Granger patriarch.
Harry cleared his throat and nodded his head, rattling off the number he had memorized and watching the satisfied matriarch quit the room for the hall.
As she picked up the phone and dialled, Wendell cleared his throat and fully put down the paper. "Thank you," was said in the soft scholar's voice, his eyes sombre.
A confused Harry finished the last dishes quietly and then sat opposite the head of the household. Staring at the grain of the table he licked his lips and carefully looked up, "What am I missing?"
Wendell focused on smoothing out the paper for a few seconds, fingers firmly pressing the folded print. Harry watched those hands, wondering what was going on that had the man so careful with his thoughts.
"Monica is confused, and wants to get to know this other version of our daughter."
A confused Harry nodded his head.
Wendell smiled slightly, a crooked little one that was more self-depreciating than anything. "She feels she didn't make the best first impression."
"Ah, Hermione knows you…I don't think that was a first impression."
Wendell shook his head with a chuckle. "We don't know her, and maybe she doesn't know these versions of us. Either way, Monica wants to apologize to her and invite her back for lunch some time. It's getting awkward with how she is avoiding this house, especially since Minnie and JP constantly want to be together."
A sigh escaped Harry, but a content smile curled his lips. "Those kids are pretty insistent."
Wendell grinned, "Whatever happened to you?"
His breath caught at the question, wondering exactly where and when he had lost the stubborn forcefulness that had so marked his character in youth. What had happened to the single-minded teen who had insisted on knowing why, had trashed Dumbledore's office and yelled at the headmaster, had resisted Umbridge and the ministry's machinations, had obviously slighted Scrimgeour, had never backed down when he impatiently felt something needed to be done…his way.
"I guess…I grew up," Harry said softly.
Wendell blinked at him, his head nodding slightly. "Yes, we tend to do that."
Two days later, the day of the new lunch date, Harry was watching the matriarch prepare for the arrival of JP and Hermione.
Monica was fluttering about the kitchen, preparing a light meal. She moved quite like a butterfly, never staying anywhere too long. Harry watched her tweak the table settings and re-taste the food, her eyes dart to the clock, wash her hands almost obsessively, tug the tablecloth to 'correct' the draping, straighten out the chairs and clean the kitchen.
While Hermione had never moved so flightily, Harry definitely recognized that attention to detail.
Wendell came up behind him, half smiling as he clapped him on the shoulder and pulled him away into the den. The man gestured to a chair as he took his favourite recliner, carefully tapping out his pipe and lighting so the smell of the cherry tobacco soon engulfed the room.
Harry sat quietly, contemplating.
But he didn't even have to ask a question before Wendell was starting: "After so long, having you and learning to understand Minnie—the idea that we could hurt Hermione, the older one, hurts us. It made us wonder how the previous Hermione would have been, with us distant and Ms. Banks and the tutors…that's what you did son. You made us recognize what was right under our noses." Wendell looked up at him from over his pipe, his brown fringe shadowing his eyes.
"I…" yet Harry couldn't find the words to deny it. He knew he hadn't done much, of course, but faced with those eyes so like Hermione's and the honest soberness in Wendell's voice—well, the words got stuck in his throat.
And he didn't have much time to work the words from his tongue either, because Minnie squealed from her room (where she was most likely at her window watching the walkway) and raced down the stairs.
Harry shook his head as she almost tripped.
Hermione and JP were at the door, if there was any doubt, and came in with smiles and greetings. Minnie even gave the older her an exuberant hug before racing off with JP.
Hermione greeted them before making her way into the kitchen, "Do you need any help?" she asked softly.
Monica twittered but accepted the help, moving to give directions but halting with her mouth open as Hermione moved with a practiced ease and finished setting the table and placing the food.
Wendell and Harry, from where they'd leaned over to see the two women, swallowed and leaned back in their chairs.
"It must be really hard for her," Wendell managed in a slightly strangled voice.
Harry didn't comment on his dark eyes. "I guess it is," he replied softly.
And then everyone was called in for lunch.
The meal went smoothly for the first bit, but remained in innocent conversation rather than taking up their previous topic. The awkwardness faded under the polite conversation, but there was a heavy expectancy in the air.
Which JP unintentionally broke with a loud CRACK!
JP stared horrified at the cup, chipped slightly and being surrounded by the juice. Hermione quickly smiled and pulled him into her lap, giving him comforting assurances.
Harry grinned at the boy and, after so many times he'd reflexively reached for his wand, quite calmly withdrew his wand and flourished it about. The mess cleaned up instantly at the silent spell, and Hermione smiled at him.
JP gaped at the clean table and repaired glass.
Minnie squirmed in her seat before letting out an excited squeal.
Monica peered over as Wendell carefully picked up the cup and examined it. "Well," she said, "that's quite practical magic."
Hermione let out a little snort before light laughter escaped her—rubbing JP on the back as he grinned sheepishly.
"I'm sorry," he said softly but with good humour. Harry marvelled at the boy that was him, knowing he would have been cowering and bracing for a hit.
"That's okay, Son," Wendell smiled as he spoke. "That's not exactly what they mean when they say "break the ice", but it's a start."
And they laughed together.
…
Hermione, a blatantly confused expression on her face, greeted them as she entered the hall from the front yard. Darting her eyes around, only giving a slight smile when JP and Minnie exclaimed and rushed off to do something, she watched her parents and Harry.
Nothing seemed remiss.
Then why had they called her to stay tonight? Were they going to a business meeting? But then couldn't Harry watch Minnie? Or were they all going and did they need her to house sit?
Mu-Monica smiled at her as Wendell helped her into her coat, handing her a silky scarf after he had done so. She smiled and kissed his cheek as he busied himself with his own accouterments.
Hermione boggled.
"Thank you for helping Harry tonight dear, Minnie's a bit under the weather so we thought he'd need a hand babysitting."
Hermione swallowed and nodded, managing a wobbly smile. "A business meeting tonight?" she inquired politely.
Monica laughed; without trying to hide it.
Wendell grinned. "I," he said proudly, "have the privilege of taking this woman on a date tonight—the theatre and dinner to celebrate a great year."
Hermione nodded her head slowly, blinking.
"Well, have a good night. Call if anything happens, Harry, the same numbers as last time." They gave a last jaunty wave before they were out the door.
Her amber eyes followed them down the drive to the car, watching the way they touched and kissed and embraced. Her dad had always opened doors for her mother, pulled out her chair and helped her with her coat and shoes…
But he'd never slid his hand down her arms, or traced his fingers over the back of her neck, or embraced her like that in public—with that little kiss to the forehead. Her dad had never done that, not like Wendell did.
And her mother had never…would have never welcomed things like that. No public displays, it wasn't proper. Yet there she was laughing and blushing and smiling like the neighbours weren't watching. This Monica was nothing like her mother.
Hermione swallowed again, except this time it hurt to get the lump down her throat.
And then she grinned; it was trembling and uncertain but so very very happy. She turned watery eyes to Harry, watching him startle and stare bewildered at her.
"Thank you."
"Ah…what?"
Hermione laughed, "Thank you for my parents. They weren't like this before. It's…nice."
"Hermione, I didn't do anything," he insisted as he performed the time honored Harry tradition of shuffling his feet and rubbing the back of his neck.
"No Harry, this is definitely something you did. My mother was upper class British—prim and proper and very much the lady. I grew up without hugs and touching and kisses goodnight—and yet here I see them flirting and blushing and happy."
Harry shook his head—"Hermione, you were always cuddling and touching, you were always emotional and not scared of it."
She blushed and ducked her head a little. "Harry, I was like that because of you, you flinched at the slightest touch so I made it my mission to hug you whenever I could." She laughed at her memories. "I decided that no one was there to scold me for being unladylike—and you needed it."
He stared at her with intense green eyes, eyes she'd missed for so long.
"Thank you, for showing my parents how to let go of those barriers."
Harry's throat worked as he continued staring, and it took him a minute before he managed, "You're welcome."
Hermione smiled blissfully, her eyes twinkling and her face flushed with happiness. Harry had shown her parents how to love without restraints. It was something Hermione had never managed, no matter how good she was in school or how ladylike she tried to be.
Maybe Harry didn't understand fully, but he had instinctively taught her parents that. And the compassionate Harry that was back here in time showing her family how to be a family was entirely unaware of the fact that he could do this because he cared, because he loved them just as much as if they were his own.
Hermione stared in admiration at Harry, looking at the mature young man that had become of her best friend.
He'd done so much for her, and didn't see it; thought it was normal. He'd loved her enough to change her world around at such a young age; turned an incident with a time turner into a series of events that would change their lives.
Because he had noticed she was gone, because he had cared for her.
Hermione blushed and smiled.
.
After the kids were asleep Harry finally got to sit down, he did so with his tea and a great big sigh.
Hermione quietly approached and sat with her own cup, blowing across the top and crossing her ankles. "So, do you think you can see your future in this cup?" she teased.
Harry cut his eyes to her laughing expression, her brown eyes twinkling and her cheeks curved with a smile. He huffed. "I know my future."
She sobered. "Well, not really."
He turned on the couch to face her more easily.
She squirmed a bit. "At least you won't have to find the cup or the ring or even the diary this time…"
"What?" Harry asked in confusion, then "what?" more strongly with a glare setting in his eyes.
Clearing her throat and shrugging her shoulders she also offered, "And I've been negotiating with the goblins about removing horcruxes from living beings?"
"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded, hoping that she wasn't suggesting what he thought she was. She blinked at him and he clarified, "You are not telling me you've been Hunting…"
"I wasn't hunting, per say, but I came back to change the past Harry. I came back to make it better."
"But you were doing it alone!"
She snorted and put down her tea, crossing her arms over her chest. "Of course I was! Who was going to help me? I'm basically a walking talking anachronism, and I had a job to do! Besides," she softened, "I didn't really do anything dangerous. Once I approached the Goblins it was rather smooth sailing."
"It was hard enough to gather those things with us thr—two, what made you take it on by yourself?! That's utterly ridiculous—you should have….you should have…"
"I should have what? Harry!" She hissed at him, her hair sparking.
Harry growled and flicked a silencing spell at the stairs so the children wouldn't hear. Sirius made his way in, reminding Harry of their speculations but that didn't mean he could reign in the surge of terror that had engulfed him. He remembered her screams from the war and the silence when she went missing. "You should have waited! You shouldn't have done anything at all! You just shouldn't have gone on your own!" He stood up and gestured with his words, leaning over his friend.
"I had to Harry! I was alone. I had to be as subtle as possible in the wizarding world so I couldn't even gather allies. I had the knowledge and the theories to start the Hunt on my own. And I did it!"
"Well congratulations!" Harry seethed at her, "Your stupid theories and luck worked, let's all clap for the genius who put herself in danger! What if you were wrong? What if there were traps? How do you plan to destroy them? Do you keep those things around JP?"
She snarled at him and stood up, pointing her finger into his chest and getting right in his face. "Don't even think I don't have your best interests at heart, Harry! I do everything in my power to make sure JP is safe! You're not the only one who's grown paranoid and over cautious! I just put mine to use instead of moping about a muggle house! JP's got the best protection possible under my roof!"
"Yeah? Well except for when you leave him alone just like everyone else ever does!" Harry yelled, his face red and his eyes glowing.
She sucked in a sharp breath and stared at him, her brown eyes wide and dark. Then she sunk into her previous seat rather limply.
Harry cursed and paced, running his hands through his hair.
Hermione sat silent with wide eyes, staring at the wall. Sirius sat beside her, putting a large hand on her shoulder and giving bemused but cautious eyes to Harry.
Harry blew out a heavy breath through his nose, trying to calm down. Then he blinked and unclenched his hands, looking over at Hermione and her blank expression.
"I'm sorry," he managed out.
"No, no…" she mumbled, her head tilting. "I," she hesitated and glanced up at him, her expression contrite. "I'm sorry too, Harry. Honestly I haven't really gone on any really dangerous trips since I got JP, no actual retrievals anyway or anything that can't be done while he's in school so the last three summers have been danger free."
"I…it's not just about being there for JP, Hermione. In our original time…Ginny and the Weasleys couldn't handle how I—went off the deep end I guess. And then you were gone and I…I couldn't remember a time when you weren't there."
He looked over at her earnest expression, her large eyes and quiet waiting.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is…all that yelling, that was about you putting yourself in danger, without me there as back up." Then he tried a smile at her.
Hermione sort of smiled and then lost it. Then she sobbed a little laugh. "I promise you Harry James Potter, I'm not going anywhere if I can help it. And no more missions, at least not without you!"
"Good," he said emphatically, then, "good," a little softer as he pulled her up and into a hug.
She giggled slightly as she rested there against him, and turned her head up to look him in the eye. He brought up a hand to smooth her hair away from his face. "Well, next time shall we skip the drama and move on to the hugs? I haven't had a Harry-hug in a long time."
Harry hugged her tighter; after all, he hadn't had a proper Hermione-hug in a while either.
"We're not done talking about this though," Harry whispered tiredly.
Hermione huffed against him, "Of course not, but just a moment, please?"
Harry dropped his head back, looking at the ceiling, and gave them both that moment.
Hermione drew in a shaky breath and pulled away first. Harry let her go easily, but he watched her with all the talking he'd done with Sirius at the front of his mind. She looked like she still wanted to be in his arms.
"I didn't do much retrieval missions, except for the ring. And beyond the ring and satchel—which both have compulsion charms on them—there was very little magic or danger involved."
"Then how did you get the diary and cup? Last time we destroyed the whole bank, I've been to the Alley a few times and nothing has tipped me off."
She laughed, grinning impishly up at him. "I gave the ring to the goblins."
Sirius barked out a laugh. Then he kept on laughing and it got louder and more out of control until he was red faced and crying, leaning back in the couch and holding his belly from the pain.
Harry didn't get it.
But Hermione explained it to him, like she always helped him out.
His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened—if they'd known…but who knew the intricacies of the Goblin race and their banking system would have actually come in handy? He laughed along with his godfather.
Hermione sat there quite prettily and pleased with herself, watching him until he got control. "You are a genius," he praised, bussing her temple and falling into the couch to rest.
"I have my moments," she demurred playfully.
"So Bella and Malfoy both stored their horcruxes in the vaults? I suppose that makes sense." Sirius mused, "You can never be sure how foreign magic will react with family treasures, I wouldn't keep anything imbued by anyone not my blood in the family house."
"The goblins have them in their own high security storage until we can research a less destructive way to remove the soul fragments without Voldemort knowing. The cup and Diadem are of goblin make and they want to protect their heritage."
Harry mopped his hand down his face, "Then we can destroy them as soon as possible."
Hermione shifted uneasily, "Well, in our research we've actually come across a problem. It seems like destroying an anchor means that that part of the soul, it's power, returns to the original soul. Which means every horcrux we destroy makes him more powerful. The goblins and I are trying to devise a strategy to use this to our advantage."
Sirius blinked, "You guys just destroyed them randomly last time? That's soul magic!"
Harry glared, "I didn't know the diary was a horcrux, but that would explain why Voldemort kept gaining power while the years went by, and then was all the more powerful that last year of the war. Do you think he also knew we were hunting the horcruxes?"
Hermione shook her head, her curls flinging over her cheeks. "Thankfully not," she shuddered. "He broke his own soul, the pieces won't transfer knowledge. That's why the diary, the first, had no clue what had happened after it was made."
Harry put his arm around her and cuddled her into his side, hating that tremor. "But the others also knew when we wanted to destroy them."
Hermione nodded her head under his chin, and her curls brushed against his neck. "Yes, each horcrux had a progressively weaker part of his soul, and he was always fearful of death. The magic's they used, possession and advanced legilimency, are rather simple for an exposed piece of soul. They have access to the more instinctive magics."
Sirius cleared his throat, "Do we want to tip off our contact about this? If there are only so many left is it even worth it? And Hermione, you're telling me that legilimency and possession are simple magics?"
She laughed, Harry's gut clenched as her breathed passed over his neck. "Legilimency and possession deal with already existing souls, not imbuing objects with unnatural qualities or behaviors. People and animals are the easiest things to manipulate. I've done advanced legilimency on Petunia, to get her to let me babysit Harry," she admitted in a soft voice. "It's really only bringing their own thoughts into focus in the direction you want," she defended in a whisper.
Harry just squeezed her tighter.
.
Sirius sighed and let it rest, his eyes drifting off in thought while the two old friends took comfort in each other. He knew that nothing Hermione did would break Harry's faith in her—many talks between the two men had gone over the young woman and how much of an impression she'd made on the Potter heir.
The older Potter heir, anyway.
The old dog had seen love like that before—before their worlds had crashed down around them. He admired it between these two young ones because even James and Lily hadn't been as self-sacrificing in their adulthood as these two in their teens.
True love.
And when all this secretive nonsense was over and old Voldemort was dealt with they could finally address their feelings. He looked forward to watching it—it would be both touching and humorous. He should look into getting into his old house without alerting anyone, so far the Ministry had kept his escape quiet—he didn't want to tip his hand.
But he wanted to help these two out—and if a horcrux was in the old Black House he would get it. And the children would be off to Hogwarts, which means they might be able to go Hunting for Snakes and Rats soon. It would be good to use his old Auror skills.
He sighed and stretched, emerging from his ruminations to check over on Harry and Hermione. He blinked to observe the way they had cuddled in, and fallen asleep.
Sirius grinned at the two exhausted time travellers, quietly retreating from the house to resume his usual post for when the Grangers returned home. If his smile was a little mischievous no one was there to see it.
So the couple stayed there, emotionally spent and yet renewed, asleep leaning against each other on the couch.
They did not hear the elder couple enter, or snicker at them and place a quilt over them or tiptoe up the stairs. And they definitely did not hear Monica whisper rather giddily—"I told you they had feelings for each other!"
Nope, they didn't hear it.
The next morning went rather normal, though Hermione and Harry had stiff necks and it was the first sleepover JP or Minnie had ever had. They ate breakfast quietly, attributing the secret knowing smiles of Monica and Wendell to their fabulous time out last night.
The Grangers jauntily went off to their practice, leaving the doppelgangers to the house.
And Harry happily sat with Minnie and watched JP and Hermione gambol about the backyard with Padfoot—their laughter and shouts music to his ears. He hadn't had that in his childhood, neither had Hermione for that matter. And after the heavy discussion last night he was very glad that JP had Hermione despite all the perils she'd been trying to face on her own.
Minnie closed her book and leaned against his arm. He looked down at her to spot her tapping fingers and flickering eyes as they followed the two friends in the grass.
She wanted to play. Harry knew it—it was in the way she fidgeted and tried not to make it obvious that she was staring from under her eyelashes. Harry sighed with a smile, scratching the back of his head as he looked up to see JP tackle Hermione to the ground.
Their laughter rang out loudly and Harry, attuned after so many months, caught the little sigh Minnie gave.
He grinned and made a show of standing up—dusting off his trousers and straightening out his shirt. He winked down at Minnie (who was staring at him incredulously) and then lifted her over his shoulder before jogging after the duo.
She squealed loudly and Hermione and JP turned to stare at them. Hermione grinned happily, but JP looked with some awe up to where Minnie rested. Harry laughed at the little boy with his scruffy hair, messing it up until the boy grabbed onto him to still it.
"Well," Hermione laughed out, "I guess Harry is it now."
JP squealed and took off, his hands wind milling as he yelled.
Minnie squirmed until she was on the ground, jetting off before Harry could steady her (she stumbled but still laughed and righted herself—fast despite all the time she spent with her books).
Harry blinked at his quick abandonment, Hermione laughing at him before she was gone after the kids. Harry shouted after them before getting his legs to work, he playfully stayed just that-close to the kids; but Hermione remained honestly elusive. She was out of reach until those quick moments when she'd grab hold of one kid and drag them off to get them out of danger.
Padfoot barked happily and chased everyone, jumping at them when they slowed down.
JP and Minnie both loved it.
Harry thought this was slightly unfair (despite the grin on his face). He set to rectify this by chasing both kids—they'd started to run together, close enough to reach out and tug each other away from the monster. (Hermione had stopped and stood mostly still, laughing and dancing out of reach when he got too close.) At this new tactic Minnie let out a little scream, her legs blurring as she tried to laugh and run at the same time (she wasn't quite that athletic). JP laughed and pulled her aside, the two kids falling and rolling before they scrambled and managed to escape him.
Harry tried to growl as he chased them, but was laughing too hard to pretend to be more monstrous. Still, he managed to laugh and roar just as he got close again.
"Hey!" he shouted as Hermione situated herself back in the game.
Both kids squealed from where they'd been thrown over opposite shoulders, their arms flailing for balance and purchase as Hermione jogged away. The woman spun around to stick her tongue out—but the kids laughed and she simply kept on spinning until all three of them were tellingly dizzy.
The drunken weave of Hermione's steps made Harry laugh, and he grinned as Hermione gave one last energetic twirl while kissing both kids sloppily on their cheeks.
Harry snorted as she flopped onto her back, gripping the kids so they couldn't escape now that Harry could easily catch up.
"He'll catch us!" JP shouted.
"Run!" Minnie squealed.
Hermione took in a deep breath—"I'll need you two as a sacrifice, I just can't move!"
JP laughed and Minnie gasped in offense.
Harry didn't attack though; he just stood back and watched the trio. Minnie was finally playing, and she and JP settled down against Hermione, sticking their feet into the air and pretending to walk on the clouds.
Hermione grinned in between the two kids, her arms wrapped around them, and then she lifted her feet to walk with them.
Their laughter rang out clearly in the backyard
Harry's breathe caught—finally seeing Hermione play. This wasn't just her childhood as Minnie; this was what she should have had as a child, as Hermione. He wondered if she'd ever played in that original timeline.
He quietly approached, no longer the 'it' monster, and then lay down beside Minnie. The young girl grinned at him, lifting her head so he could settle his arm under her neck, but then she was back to chatting with JP and walking in the clouds.
Harry swallowed, turning his head. Hermione was grinning over at him, more standing on the clouds than walking on them, and Harry could only grin in return. He gave her a wink and snickered as he raised his feet to join them.
It was a strange feeling to have your feet higher than your head, your vision distorted so your ground was blue and white and so bright it was like a dream. His pants tried to slip down his legs, and he could feel the wind above his socks and under the gathered material.
He swallowed and grinned.
If Hermione could play, and Minnie was learning so easily, it was time for the older Harry to join in too.
...
Harry grinned as JP and Minnie listened raptly to Hermione as she explained some magical theory. Both kids were lying out on the floor with Hermione telling them the tale of a wizard who had accidently discovered the five laws of transfiguration.
It was surprisingly funny.
They were babysitting the kids again, the Granger parents having left with secretive grins and a wink.
Harry didn't quite get it, but he'd forgotten it quickly enough when Hermione engaged the children with magical stories.
It figured she'd take the opportunity to teach and entertain—but he couldn't fault her for it when all three were enjoying themselves—four if you counted Padfoot wagging his tail on the hearth rug. Minnie glanced up excitedly when he joined them on the floor to make it a group of five, but quickly turned her attention back to Hermione.
JP though was a different story. He listened with half an ear and manoeuvred himself until he was practically in Harry's lap. He leaned in with a conspirator's whisper: "She tells me magic stories all the time, but now they're so real!"
Harry laughed quietly and hugged the boy, marvelling at the situation he was in. He, the boy who had hated to be touched, was hugging the younger version of him.
And Hermione was the reason.
She'd taught him how to hug while they were in Hogwarts, and she'd taken JP and seemed to cuddle him every chance she got.
"Very real," he whispered softly. And he wondered in some part if Hermione herself was magic; what with all she was able to do. She'd always been more connected to the magic, learning it easier and essentially living it when she was angry or otherwise emotional—he could easily recall the way her eyes and hair sparked when she got in an argument, and the way that shadows seemed to part for her or swallow her depending on her mood. She'd even mastered flames and elemental spells that were years beyond her level.
And that was more than book smarts.
So Harry watched and listened, just as enthralled as the kids, as Hermione explained magic.
Later, when the kids were settled in, Harry asked her about it—about being magic.
She laughed before she responded. "Harry, I'm not any more magic than other witches and wizards. I just…access it more. People seem to forget that magic is living, and is in everything that is living. If you understand its nature there's no limit to what you can accomplish."
"Like traveling back in time without a time turner?" Harry questioned cheekily.
Hermione laughed. "Exactly so!"
…
Hermione stiffened as Minnie literally ran into Ms. Banks. It was horrible to be in front of that woman again, and she hated how she froze and couldn't find it in herself to protect Minnie.
It was like she was that little girl again, the one who never was good enough for anyone.
The old woman screeched about manners and huffed about insolence, and Hermione felt her heart shrivel up inside of her. She couldn't do this! She couldn't stand in front of this woman and try again to please her when she'd failed so many times as a child. She couldn't get herself out of this one, couldn't speak or move or defend her younger self.
But Harry could, and did. He stepped between them, spoke calmly in her honour. He stood in front of Minnie despite Ms. Banks sputters about propriety, stood beside Hermione and took her hand despite the courtship etiquette the bitter woman snarled about.
And when Hermione felt both JP and Harry squeeze her hands, she straightened her back. Harry looked at her with concern, his bright green eyes protective and his lopsided smile questioning. JP looked up at her with similar eyes, his face set with determination as he hugged her arm like he could protect her with just his will.
And Hermione smiled and turned to the woman. "Ms. Banks," she murmured calmly, "I do believe we haven't met."
The old woman blinked and drew herself up, sniffing as she extended her hand limply. "Ms. Roland Banks, if you please."
"Miss Hermione Granger, and it is a pleasure."
Hermione smiled cattily as the visibly confused woman floundered but shook her hand.
The elder couldn't get out of there fast enough, despite all the manners Hermione displayed.
They all laughed when they were safely the four of them again, JP and Minnie giddy with triumph and the older pair of them giddy with relief.
And Hermione found it was okay she wasn't perfect, it was okay because she was already loved. She didn't have to be perfect.
Her eyes ran over her little family, and softened upon Harry, trying to mentally will her gratitude to him. He caught her expression and smiled, green eyes proud, and grabbed her hand as they set off walking again.
He didn't let it go.
…
Minnie came out of the bathroom in tears, making her way to the two of them as they sat with their tea. Her shoulders were hunched in and her face blotchy around her pouting lips.
Harry, startled, turned to face her fully, but Hermione immediately emerged from her seat to crouch in front of the girl child.
"Hey, what are the tears for?" she inquired as she tenderly wiped them away.
"I…got stuck," Minnie whimpered, turning her head so they could see the comb tangled in her hair. Then she let out a sob.
"O honey," Hermione said lowly, drawing the girl into her arms and kissing her cheek. Harry watched the two Hermiones settle on the floor, the smaller pulled into that comforting lap and wrapped in those strong arms.
Hermione gave Minnie another kiss on her cheek, and then twisted the both of them until she could access the knot and comb. With gentle fingers she worked it out—Minnie didn't even wince once.
Harry was amazed—he'd seen Mrs. Granger do this once before and the older woman had never managed it with such skill. But then again, it was Hermione's own hair wasn't it.
Minnie sniffled, but didn't make any move to tell she'd been hurt.
Hermione smiled reminiscently, "I remember when my hair was just like this: nothing could tame it."
Minnie nodded her head miserably.
"But it's not so bad, pretty in a different way than what everyone else expects. It suits us."
Minnie turned to look over her shoulder with wide eyes, spotting the comb in Hermione's hand as the older one smiled. Minnie blinked and sniffed again, readjusting her seat until she was curled into the older woman.
"I like your hair," Minnie confessed quietly. Harry smiled.
Hermione grinned, "And I love yours."
They were quiet for a minute, both versions of the same girl staring into each other's very same eyes.
"Just like mine?" Minnie finally attempted.
Hermione chuckled, "It might have been worse—I was constantly running my fingers through it and getting it tangled in my pens. It was so bad my mum attempted to straighten it when they took me to their club parties. Somehow by the end of the hour I'd have a bushy head of curls again, and she got so frustrated with me. Finally I had to stay home with a nanny those nights."
Harry's eyes narrowed, and Minnie gasped excitedly—"You got to stay home? I hate those things!" She then gasped in horror and quickly covered her mouth with both hands.
Hermione didn't laugh; she took both small wrists into her hands and pulled them away, craning her neck so she could look straight into the girl's honey eyes. "I got to stay home and read about magic and adventure—I explored ancient Greece, I became a pirate, I was a wizard-elf in Tolkien's world and I was a dragon rider for the ages."
Minnie looked up in awe.
"And nowhere," Hermione said firmly, "nowhere," she repeated softly, "did it matter that my hair wasn't in its proper place or that those disgusting crab cakes ended up in my napkin."
Minnie beamed up at the woman.
"Besides," Hermione continued with a smile, "we grow into our hair, and it has character."
Minnie's shoulders slumped. "But I still have to go to the party tonight."
Hermione blinked, "That's what's going on tonight?"
A little head nodded, curls defying gravity with the movement.
Hermione furrowed her brow and looked up to Harry, clearly displeased.
Harry shook his head and shrugged his shoulders—as much as he was part of the family he wasn't part of these elite club things.
"Well," Hermione said briskly, resettling Minnie until she was facing outwards on her lap. "How about a nice braid then?"
Minnie giggled but remained still.
Hermione smiled, sliding her fingers into the soft kitten hair that Minnie had.
Harry watched, entranced, as Hermione dealt with the tangle of curls until a pretty plait was all that remained—though a few curling tendrils still fell into Minnie's forehead.
She looked impossibly cuter now that you could see her big eyes and freckles clearly.
Hermione hugged the girl from behind, giving her one of those loud smacking kisses on the cheek before letting her go. Minnie rushed from the room, calling for JP and giving a little jump right before she ran up the stairs two at a time.
Harry laughed incredulously.
Hermione didn't join him. In fact her eyes were quite sad and regretful as she watched her mini-self—her not quite self anymore because Harry was starting to see the little changes that made them so different—disappear in the shadows of the hall to JP who was probably hunkered over his drawings in the spare room.
When the adult Grangers had emerged from their room where they had been preparing (and expressed delight over Minnie's new hairstyle) Harry watched the well dressed family leave, ready to send Hermione and JP home right after before the night got too dark.
As JP bent to tie his shoes Harry looked at Hermione, a question burning on his tongue. "Did you have to deal with that type of stuff when you were attending Hogwarts?"
Hermione sighed and straightened up, her eyes dark and thoughtful. "It was both better and worse when I went to Hogwarts. My parents could make up lies about it to the other members of the club, but then when I had to go to the parties in the summer…I had to be those lies. I had to be popular and friendly and witty and beautiful."
Harry stared at his friend in consternation. For one, he couldn't reconcile those parents with the Grangers he had met, but he didn't say anything because this was Hermione. She had never outright told him a lie. Second…well, Hermione was friendly and witty and beautiful.
"We ended up on vacations more often so we didn't have to deal with the subterfuge." She glanced up at him unsurely, a look blossoming onto her face until she didn't seem quite so timid.
But she didn't say any more, and Harry sighed as they retrieved JP and set off. He smiled and waved at them as they made their way to the station, Hermione's bright smile easing him along with JP's exuberant wave.
Settling in to wait for the Granger's to return he read the paper and watched the news, instinctively looking for anything that could be attributed to magic and the war even though that was over…hadn't happened yet.
Maybe it was because of that paranoia that was settling in while he was alone and watching the depressing news for so many hours, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood up right before he heard the front door open and the family returning. Biting his tongue and struggling to control his twitching fingers he stood and went to greet the Grangers.
Minnie gave him a quiet greeting and goodnight, hugging his waist briefly before trudging up the stairs to her room and closing the door.
Wendell quietly helped his wife out of her coat and held out his arm for her to brace herself as she removed her heels. Monica didn't say anything as she did so.
With a sober voice Wendell Granger gave him a goodnight, thanked him for watching the house, and escorted his wife to their room and similarly closing the door.
Harry felt a shiver run down his spine as he made his way to his own room, purposefully leaving the door open as he settled in to bed.
Sure enough, when he woke the next morning Minnie was cuddling his other pillow. Her still braided hair exposed her sleeping face. Harry watched her, remembering the happy little girl excited about a braid and comparing her to the quiet child who had come home last night.
And he wondered how his original Hermione had dealt with these soirées all the time.
At breakfast, Harry walking hand in hand with Minnie down the stairs, Wendell and Monica cleared their throats. Monica glanced at her husband before smiling at her small daughter, "We were thinking, honey, of letting you stay home from the club now."
Minnie immediately perked up, staring intently at her mother.
Wendell smiled, "Now Harry is at home too, and we won't have to leave you alone. Besides, I'm sure JP and Hermione could stay the night as well."
Monica glanced at her husband from the corner of her eyes but smiled wider.
Minnie started crying, repeating 'thank you' over and over as she squirmed out of Harry's hold and rushed to hug her parents.
Harry smiled.
Monica winked, mouthing another thank you to him, and Harry shook his head. Monica nodded her head just as seriously. "We saw her playing with you all in the backyard Harry, and comparing that to the little girl hanging onto our hands last night made this an easy decision. So yes, thank you, again."
Green eyes closed and he whispered, "You're welcome."
….
Hermione regarded Sirius as they sat in the gazebo—it wasn't often that the two of them were alone. She bit her lip and furrowed her brow as she stared at the healthy man. "I'm sorry."
He made a startled noise out of his nose, her lips tilted. It sounded quite like a puppy snuffling.
"Whatever for?"
Her smile dropped off her lips. "I didn't even think to get you out of Azcaban. And now you're stuck in your animangus form so often—I could I guess dogsit. We can say you're an uncle." Then she darted her eyes up to his. "I want you to heal. Harry needs you, and JP of course. I really can't do anything for them in the wizarding world. And…" she cut her eyes down, "one of the horcruxes is also in the Black House."
Sirius shifted, and Hermione watched his uncannily serious face search hers. She hoped she didn't look as guilty as she felt. If anything Sirius was another man she wanted the best for—he'd been so scarred by the horrors of that first second war…
"You look so much better now," she rushed and turned to face the garden. The old swing swayed in the breeze and she narrowed her eyes at it.
Sirius' arm suddenly wrapped around her, and Harry finished making his way from the house. Hermione bit her lip as Harry joined her and sat on her other side, his arm slipping around her waist.
The old dog sighed. "I am healing, Hermione. You have nothing to apologize for. But if you need it," he said softly, "you're forgiven."
Hermione's breath hitched.
"But thank you," Sirius said more strongly and she turned to look up at him. "Thank you for remembering Harry, thank you for saving JP, thank you for hunting those things on your own just so that JP wouldn't have to, thank you for letting us in now, and thank you for thinking of this old dog when you already have so much on your shoulders."
She stared up at him with wide eyes before she started to laugh. Then she hugged Sirius tightly, squishing her face into his shoulder as she started to sob.
Harry rubbed her back, and when she had calmed he helped her settle back and gave her a kiss on her temple. "So any news?"
She missed the way Sirius lifted his brow at Harry as she launched into her description of the Goblins' latest find. She was too excited about the possibilities; the locket, the diadem, the snake…and soon JP would be free.
The two men explained their desire to hunt in Romania—and then corral Wormtail. They would have all the pieces then. Hermione's careful expression meant Harry spent some time talking about his talks with Sirius—shifting bloody and illegal retribution into a potential case to clear his name. They'd been prepping Kingsley Shacklebolt with tips so that everything would work out smoothly.
She breathed a sigh of relief and settled into the two men of her life, glad that they would stay safe.
This adventure was looking so much better than her last one…
…
Harry was quite happy really—walking down the street with Padfoot, the two children and Hermione. It had become a tradition now for the four of them to end their days at the Granger house. Harry very much appreciated the company of his best friend and the way JP and Minnie got along. Hermione also got to reconnect with her parents, and the elders delighted in her.
Yes, the once savior of the wizarding world was quite content—but there was one thing niggling at him. It had been there for a time, he felt, but it hadn't been quite as insistent as today.
Before the group had left for their walk, JP and Harry had to retrieve the girls from their "girl time". Harry had been very stunned to walk into them painting their toenails in preparation for their open toed shoes. That's not to say they couldn't do that at all, it was their choice.
But Harry had never really seen Hermione do something so feminine. And now her displayed toes were accented by a very girly pale pink that sparkled.
And Hermione was walking arm in arm with him and she was wearing that swishy skirt—she looked quite the lady. Harry's lungs felt heavy with the realization that this lady was on his arm.
She smiled at him and he grinned goofily at her—feeling the burn of red in his cheeks.
"Ah, Hermione!" came a young woman's voice. Harry watched in some amusement as both girls spun around. He blinked when Minnie's face scrunched up and Hermione's pleasant face soured.
Harry turned to watch the once tutor approach, her breath heavy as she tried to straighten and press against a stitch in her side.
"I came to ask if your parents were starting tutoring again this fall."
Minnie shuffled her feet, her unsure eyes glancing up at Harry before returning to the teenager.
"No, she's not," Harry said abruptly, gently pulling Minnie closer to him.
"Yes, she has been studying independently and doing wonderfully," Hermione said coolly, her hand clenching on his arm.
The tutor straightened slightly and eyed the older girl. "And she manages just fine? She has a particularly wandering attention span."
"Yes, most of us bored by the insistent repetition of basic matters do find our attention wandering."
The tutor's eyes bulged and she drew herself up taller, towering over Hermione who hadn't worn her usual heels this day. "Yes, I did find it particularly trying."
Hermione's eyes flashed.
Harry cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but the fact remains there will be no tutoring this fall. Have a good day," and he tipped his head and gently steered the other three towards the ice cream parlour.
The kids settled into the booth with their cones, happily oblivious as Hermione sulked—"I'm not stupid," she muttered darkly.
Harry jabbed his spoon into his sundae absently, watching his best friend. "No, you're definitely not," he said softly.
Hermione looked at him with a wounded and brave expression, "I really hated tutoring," she said as she tried to smile.
Harry shuffled a bit closer, checking to make sure the kids were still occupied with each other. "Was it always like that?"
Hermione's face twitched with thought, and she turned to him with honest eyes. "I wasn't quick to learn how to actually speak Harry, my parents thought I might be slow. I had to see specialists and tutors and people who, to keep their paycheque, played into these views." She laughed bitterly, "My mother was particularly mortified when one of the neighbours 'outed' me."
"I finally started to get the hang of speech in third form, and though I was finally able to communicate clearly I was stuck in a pattern of tutors and nurses and special classes."
"I would have never guessed," Harry said softly.
Hermione smiled at him. "No, I made sure no one would ever call me stupid again."
"You're not stupid Hermione."
"Thank you."
Harry, walking with Padfoot and Minnie down Privet Drive to visit Hermione and JP, smiled.
And it was really really strange to smile on this cursed street. There was one of Ms. Figg's cats, and the particularly nosy neighbour who had always commented on how the garden was falling behind, and that man had pushed him aside when a young Harry had tried to help his son.
It was still the same street, except for one single house. And for the life of him Harry couldn't remember from his own childhood who exactly had lived in it.
Just then JP ran out of the house, squealing happily, and Hermione chased after him with a laugh—only pausing to make sure the door locked. The pair ran up the walk and through the gate, crashing into them with hugs and greetings.
Their happy little meeting and walk was interrupted by the arrival of the Dursley's. It was almost like some old action movie standoff on the side walk.
Dudley quickly hid behind his mother when he spotted Hermione, and JP shuffled tightly in between Hermione and Harry's legs.
Harry stiffened and rested one of his hands on JP's messy head—very protective with Vernon and Petunia staring at them strangely.
Minnie stared confused at everyone.
"Miss Granger," Petunia managed in strangled politeness even while her beady eyes stared horrified at JP and the older Harry.
"Mr and Mrs. Dursley…Dudley," Hermione said carefully.
Dudley squeaked and tried even harder to hide.
"I see you're doing well," Vernon gurgled out, boggling at Harry.
And Harry finally understood. He'd heard it all his life: 'You look just like your father, but you have your mother's eyes.'
He must be like some ghost sent to haunt the Dursley's. They were obviously scared and unsure, frightened of him. Little JP hadn't yet grown into the man that would be so obviously of his parents—Harry was too similar to overlook.
And he wasn't happy.
But it wasn't because the Dursleys were in front of him, he wasn't angry because he had a chance to avenge himself, he wasn't …he just wasn't.
He remembered tea cups outside his bedroom door, and a concerned Dudley who had finally understood him, he remembered a family that was struggling with finances and had another child thrust upon them.
And they were in front of him, terrified of him for a reminder of a life they'd tried so hard to run from.
Harry swallowed.
"I hope you all have a good day," he said softly and then quietly steered his little family around the other little family. While they were walking away Harry wrapped his arm around JP's shoulders, hugging the small boy to him while Minnie and Hermione walked hand in hand and Padfoot trotted calmly only looking back a few times.
As much as he wasn't angry with the Dursleys, he didn't want JP near them any longer or ever again.
Hermione bumped his shoulder softly, and he looked over to spot her with Minnie spinning under her arms as she smiled at him. And Harry smiled back even though he was still on that same street from his childhood.
…
Hermione was pleased to be with Harry and Minnie and JP when the nondescript school owl swooped into the house through the chimney. (She'd left the flue purposefully open on this day.)
Minnie squealed as JP fumbled and deciphered the letter, his face dumbfounded. Hermione leaned over, reading the green ink and reminiscing about her own letter.
And she started planning.
Now they could get JP his books, and his wand. Muggleborns needed the letter as proof at most establishments (JP and Harry were pretty much considered muggleborn because of their isolation), and Hermione was relieved it had finally come so she could get a head start preparing her boy for the most interesting years of his life. Though this JP wouldn't need the refuge of the magical world like Harry had, Hogwarts would still be a wonder to him.
"We can go to King's Cross together!" Minnie exclaimed excitedly, breaking his train of thoughts.
"I can," JP said with wonder, his face slack with awe as he stared at the metallic calligraphy on the parchment.
Minnie's brows furrowed. "Well of course you can, we always knew you were coming with me. Now it's all proper and it's okay."
JP swallowed, his expression trembling precariously for a moment before he was beaming at them all. "I'm going to Hogwarts!"
Hermione's heart broke a little, realizing that he'd been scared he wouldn't be going to Hogwarts at all, but then it healed just as quickly. JP was magic, no doubts about it. And he had Minnie and Harry and her to help him through the next seven years.
"You should get the wand first! It's the most fun!"
"Wand?"
Minnie blinked and pouted. "To do magic."
JP blinked in response. "Hermione doesn't use anything like that."
Everyone, even Harry and Padfoot, turned to her with astonished expressions, curious. Hermione blushed and tilted her chin up slightly. "No JP, I don't. I had to adapt when my wand was destroyed."
Harry's fists clenched and he removed them from the table to his lap, hiding them from the children. His face closed off with anger, and Hermione watched him sadly.
It had been fun, being in the little families like this—they could almost pretend nothing in the future had happened, but they had something to do.
Now that JP and Minnie were bound for Hogwarts, the older two had time to finish the Hunt and figure out why one Ronald Bilius Weasley turned his back on them.
And hope that major events would change for the better.
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