DISCLAIMER: The characters of the Harry Potter Universe are the sole property of J.K. Rowling. Canon characters and plots are not owned by me nor do I make any profit from this fic.
. . . but a girl can dream . . .
BETA: Many, many thanks to ShayaLonnie for taking on the task of Beta, you're amazing!
Chapter 4
The journey back through the Ministry was, thankfully, an uneventful one. Hermione shuffled along quietly, tucked closely behind Mr. Potter and Sirius as they casually walked past the nightly guard and the Ministry's early arrivals. When it came time to use the Floo, Mr. Potter took her elbow lightly and, after the green light had faded from Sirius' departure, he pulled her along into the hearth with an utterance of, "Potter Home, The Hollow."
Hermione had the briefest moment to ponder the name of their destination before she was exiting the Floo on the other side in a most graceless manner. She found herself grasping the shoulders of the young Sirius, grimacing as his hands caught her around the waist.
His grip sent shock waves of pain throughout her body as his hands met with the broken rib and other injuries she suffered in the battle at the Department of Mysteries. Mr. Potter swiftly stepped forward and helped her carefully from Sirius' arms, leading her to a nearby armchair.
Sirius watched anxiously as Mr. Potter gently helped her settle into the chair, before returning to his side. "Shite, is she alright?"
"She'll be just fine, nothing to worry over. Though I think a visit from the Healer wouldn't be amiss," Charlus told him softly as they watched the girl stare into the flames of the fireplace. "Will you two be alright for a moment while I send an owl?"
"Course. I'll keep her entertained for you," Sirius said as he started for the girl by the fire, only to be stopped by Charlus' hand on his shoulder.
"I mean it, Sirius. While you've been a great help, don't rile her up. She has had a very difficult night and it will likely take her some time to come to grips with the depth of what's happened." He looked sadly at the young woman sitting by the fire, her eyes staring blankly into the flames. "Mind her for a bit while I send the owl, and for goodness sake Sirius don't pry."
Sirius nodded solemnly.
Charlus watched him as he went to the young woman by the fire, the flames flickering off both their faces before turning to gaze at the picture sitting on the mantle. I think I may have found my purpose, love, he smiled fondly at the picture and the dark haired woman in its frame, soundlessly twirling in a lightly falling snow for a moment longer before going to fetch his owl and parchment.
Hermione gazed sadly into the gracefully leaping fire. She felt like she was partaking in some strange play. Nothing felt real anymore. Was it really only hours ago she and Harry were leading that insufferable Umbridge woman into the Forbidden Forest? Then the terrifying flight into London on an invisible creature on some half-cocked rescue mission, only to be thrown back in time and met with a fidgety Unspeakable, a very much alive Charlus Potter, and the younger version of the exact man they had set out to save! This was crazier than anything she could ever imagine, even for the Wizarding World.
"Long night?" Sirius' voice pulled her attention from the hypnotic flames and her wandering thoughts.
"Longest," she replied sadly.
"I won't ask."
She turned to fully look at him. He had laid his Auror robes over the back of his own chair and was sitting with elbows braced on his knees as he looked into the flames.
"Won't you?" she asked.
"Well, not now. In time . . . most likely."
She chuckled for a brief moment before the pain in her side got the best of her. "Well, I suppose honesty does count for something."
He turned to regard her, a small smile lifting his mouth. "There's hope for you yet."
"You think?"
"I know. You're a fighter."
"You don't even know me," she said sadly as she turned to the flames, thinking to herself, not yet.
"No, but I know that you are. You went through Merlin knows what tonight, yet you're sitting here, talking to me and even managed a laugh just now."
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Barely."
"True," he agreed. "It was a sad excuse for a laugh. I am an extremely funny bloke. I'm a bit disappointed in you actually."
Hermione couldn't help the small smile that spread across her face now and tried to turn away and hide it;if he noticed, he didn't say so.
They fell into a comfortable silence as they continued to watch the flames dancing in the hearth and let the calmness of the moment overtake them.
When Mr. Potter returned a short time later, followed closely by an elderly house elf, he found the two sleeping soundly in the matching armchairs by the fire.
He shook the young man's arm gently. "Sirius. Sirius, wake up son."
"Mmmph . . . hmm? Jamie . . ." Sirius slowly opened his eyes taking a moment to remember where he was. "Oh, Da . . . Mr. P, sorry I didn't mean to doze off. Everything okay?"
"Everything's just fine. The Healer will be here shortly. Would you like to stay in your room here and sleep for a bit?"
Sirius took a moment to stretch his lengthy frame before rising. "Thanks, but I should get going. Need a shower and change before meeting up with the guys later." He watched the young woman in the chair opposite him for a moment before turning back to Charlus. "Unless you need me?"
"No, no, you go along and tell the boys I said hello. I'll be just fine with all this," Charlus assured him while gesturing at the sleeping girl.
Sirius ran a hand through his tousled hair before taking a handful of Floo powder. "Right then, if you need me, I'm an owl away." And with a roar of green flames he was gone.
Charlus watched as the green light disappeared and the golden glow of the fire washed over the room once again, before taking the recently departed chair and speaking softly to the sleeping girl. "Dear . . . Miss? It's time to wake now, Hummingbird," he cooed.
Her eyes slowly fluttered open. The lingering remnants of a sleep induced haze passing the moment her eyes focused on the strange room and small figure poking its large bulbous eyes around the chair opposite hers. She sat up with a squeak, regretting it immediately when a sharp jolt of pain shot through her side once again.
The small house elf hurried around the chair at the sound of her pain, worrying a small handkerchief in its tiny hands. "Maisy is terrible sorry Miss. Maisy is just wanting to see Young Miss is well."
"M-Maisy it's . . . I-I'm sorry, Maisy, I'm just . . . I was startled. You did nothing wrong," Hermione told the little elf.
Charlus reached a hand out to calm the creature. "Maisy, the Young Miss is a Muggle-born, dear. She may not be familiar with house-elves."
"Oh, I'm quite familiar, sir, with the Wizarding World's enslavement of house-elves. I am surprised a man such as yourself would subjugate this creature to a life of servitude for your family," Hermione said indignantly.
"Master does not enslave Maisy!" the little elf huffed. "Master Potter Sir is a good master, he is giving Maisy clean pillow cases and laces to be wearing. I is a happy house-elf. I works hard and makes Master happy too."
"You do make me very happy indeed Maisy. Would you be so kind as to fetch tea for the Young Miss and myself?" Charlus smiled kindly as the elf gave a small curtsy before popping out of the room.
Hermione stared at the spot where the elf had been standing a moment before her mouth working to form words her brain hadn't quite settled on yet. She never knew elves could be so . . . so forward. "That . . . I-I'm sorry for that, sir. You have been very kind to take me into your home. It was rude of me to —"
"To speak your mind? Think nothing of it, dear," he dismissed her apology with a wave of his hand. "I'm a bit surprised though, have you met many house-elves? You seem to have a strong opinion on their work."
"Well, no. Just two really. The elves at Hogwarts are very secretive in their movement." She blushed faintly at her confession, images of poorly knitted hats and socks stuffed under common room sofa cushions running through her mind. "Still, I don't see how it can be called work when they receive no pay."
"Well, no, no pay, though it is against their very nature to take money for their services." He pursed his lips as he took in her squared shoulders and tightened jaw. "I feel this subject could take up a great amount of our time. Why don't we agree to disagree at this moment and I shall see if Maisy would be up to answering a few of your questions at a later time. How does that sound?"
"Certainly, sir. That sounds like a fine idea," she agreed just as the tiny elf popped back into the room with a tea tray magically balanced at her side.
Charlus gave the elf a warm smile as she handed him a cup of tea. "Ah, wonderful. Thank you, Maisy. Tea, dear?" he asked Hermione and carefully hid a smirk behind his cup when the small elf refused to give up the other cup till she had filled it for the young witch before popping out along with the tea service.
"Good. Now I do have a rather important question that seems to have slipped my mind till right this very moment," he said after taking a sip of the warm liquid.
"And what might that be, sir?"
"Well, I hope you can forgive my rudeness in not asking earlier, but do you have a name dear?" Charlus asked with a wide grin.
She smiled as she shook her head lightly. "I suppose it has been a very . . . full night. And after demanding your name I never even gave my own. I apologise, it's Hermione, sir. Hermione Granger."
"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Hermione Granger," he told her just as the hearth fire roared high and green. When it settled there was Sirius Black's head floating in the flames, his right arm extended out with wand in hand.
"Oh. . . you're awake . . . good. Don't let me interrupt your tea, just came back to fetch my Auror robes," he told them before summoning the garments, which flew across the room to him. "Lost these twice already. I can always replace them myself, but they have a poll going at the office and I'm down twenty Galleons if I lose them once more." He pulled his outstretched arm back through the flames and started to turn away before he apparently changed his mind and turned back towards Hermione. "What's your name, love?"
She sat there for a moment watching his head floating in the flames. It was tilted at just such an angle that, paired with the look in his eyes, she couldn't help but mentally compare him to a curious puppy. "Oh . . . it's Hermione."
He cocked a brow at her and pursed his lips. "No . . . no, that won't work. See you soon, Kitten," he told her pulling his head back through the flames.
Before the flame had even lost its green glow, it soared high once more and a tall woman stepped out of the hearth. She carried a small black box Hermione vaguely recognised as a traveling potions kit, and greeted them both with a warm smile.
"Hello, Charlus. How have you been? Michael and I haven't seen you in some time."
Charlus rose from his place beside Hermione and moved swiftly to greet the woman with a courtly bow and a kiss to her outstretched hand. "Mrs. McKinnon, it has been too long."
"Not long enough that you can't use my given name. Mrs. McKinnon is my mother-in-law and I won't have you compare me to that banshee," she said with a light laugh.
"I'll not make the mistake again, Marlene. I assure you." He chuckled deeply before gesturing towards the silent Hermione. "This is Hermione Granger, the young lady I wrote you about. Hermione, this is Healer McKinnon."
"Pleasure to meet you, Healer McKinnon, ma'am."
"Marlene is fine, dear. There is no need for such formalities amongst friends, and any friend of the Potters is a friend of mine." She gave Hermione a soft smile before turning to Charlus once more. "Is there somewhere Ms. Granger and I might speak privately? I'll need to ask her a few questions and run some tests."
"Yes, of course. Maisy," he called out to the elf, who appeared with the smallest of pops by his side. "Are the rooms ready for Ms. Granger?"
"Yes, Master Potter sir. I is just finished cleaning the rooms you be asking to ready for the Young Miss."
"Wonderful, would you be so kind as to show Healer McKinnon and Ms. Granger the way?"
The elf smiled brightly, reached for each woman's hand and, before Hermione could utter any sort of protest, they Disapparated and reappeared in a brightly lit bedroom.
Hermione swayed lightly on her feet at the sensation of vertigo that passed over her with the sudden change from sitting to standing. The Healer led her gently towards a large four poster bed that sat across from a wall with two floor to ceiling windows overlooking a sloping emerald green lawn and a small town in the distance glowing in the early morning light.
"Let's sit you down right here, dear," she urged Hermione down onto the bed before pulling up a nearby chair for herself. "Now, Charlus didn't go into much detail when he owled me requesting a Healer. Said that he found himself in a position where he had to take immediate custody of a minor whose family had been recently attacked by a group of blood purists."
Hermione stared down at the scuffed toe of her Mary Janes as the Healer spoke. Attacked by a group of blood purists. Blood purists . . . pure-bloods. She glanced down at a smear of blood on her right knuckle; it was dried and brown. Mudblood, she thought. A Mudblood trapped in 1978 where the British Wizarding World had been at war with Voldemort for seven years and, if the history books were correct, the next four years would prove to be the darkest of his first rise. The killings would escalate — no longer just Muggles and Mudbloods — soon half-bloods and even the purest of families would join the growing number of casualties . . . all because some "purist" thought her kind was worthless; because some Death Eaters considered themselves superior. Were they even Death Eaters yet? Or were they still calling themselves Knights of Walpurgis and trying to pass off their foul ideas as "Insuring true Magicals their rightful place in the world" during the day while torturing and killing in the night?
". . . I do have experience treating the victims of crimes like this. I regretfully have to say you're not the first I've seen in need of healing and a safe place to stay. You're lucky to have found Charlus. The Potters are a fine family and he is sure to keep you safe until we can locate your family. Now there are some standard ques —"
"He won't," Hermione whispered.
"What was that dear?"
"I-I said he won't." Hermione averted her eyes sadly. "He won't find my family. There isn't any he . . . any left. It's just me."
Healer McKinnon raised her hands to her chest and sank back into her chair. "Oh, you poor dear. I'm so sorry, I . . . Charlus didn't say." Silence enveloped the room for a time till the Healer sat forward and placed a light hand over Hermione's knee. "Now you listen to me. Charlus Potter is a good man and if he has welcomed you into his home, you should rightly consider him your family now. I can't say I've seen a family that had more love to give than the Potters. You'll be safe here," she told her with a firm nod that would allow no argument.
"Now, I have a few questions I must ask about the nature of your attack. They are of a personal nature, but rest assured anything you say in this room is between you and I, not even Charlus will be privy to it unless you give permission."
At Hermione's hesitant nod, Healer McKinnon began. "Do you have need of an Emergency Contraceptive Potion?"
Hermione could feel her cheeks starting to flush in embarrassment. "Oh . . . I . . . umm, no. No, ma'am."
Healer McKinnon laid a hand gently over hers. "Now, this is nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed over, alright? Just try to answer my questions as best you can. If you feel too uncomfortable answering aloud, I can owl a colleague of mine that works with Legilimency, okay?" She waited for Hermione to nod in confirmation before moving on. "During the events of this evening, did any of your attackers use any spell or curse on you that caused you to act against your will?
"No."
"Good. Have you experienced any loss of memory or spaces of time?"
"No, I haven't."
"You've done very well dear. Now all I need to do is run some scans," she said as she stood and began running a series of Sanitising Charms over a small table by the bed. "I'm going to have to remove your robes. Do you have undergarments on or would you like me to transfigure some?" she asked as she set her potions kit on a small table and began to resize its contents.
"Oh, well I'm wearing Muggle underthings, uh . . . knickers and a brassiere, are those alright?" Hermione asked as she felt her cheeks grow warm. She knew from girls in her dorm that, while most wore Muggle undergarments, some of the girls from the older pureblood families still wore combination one pieces under their robes.
"That's just fine, dear. I treat Muggle-borns as well. I've seen it all. Even heard some of them had set to burning their brassieres not so long ago. That sounds foolish to me, but there you go. Now, lie back for me and I'll remove the robes and run a few Diagnostic Spells."
Hermione pulled her legs up and slowly turned to avoid jarring her injured ribs as she lay back gently. She felt the cool air of the room wash over her skin as her robes were magicked away and watched as the Healer ran her wand over her from head to toe in a series of complex movements before she sat back down at her side.
"You have a broken rib and several others are bruised. I have a potion that will mend the rib and heal the internal bruising. As for the external injuries, you have many cuts and abrasions, the deepest of which may require a drop or two of Dittany, and many others that will be easy enough to heal with a few spells."
Healer McKinnon filled a glass with water from her wand before pouring a small amount of Skele-Gro into a dosing cup and handing both to her patient. "Here you are, dear. It won't take much of this to mend you, but it is rather nasty so I'd advise taking it all in one go."
Hermione tossed the potion back swiftly and grimaced as it burned its way down her throat before taking a long drink from the provided water. She settled back into the pillows of the bed as the Healer cleansed the glass and dosing cup with her wand, shrinking the glass to return to her potions kit where she removed a tiny brown vial and a large clear bottle filled with an iridescent purple liquid Hermione recognized to be Dreamless Sleep.
"The Skele-Gro and Dittany are unpleasant in their own right," Healer McKinnon told her as she filled a goblet with Dreamless Sleep. "Pairing those up with your recent trauma is asking quite a lot of you for one day. I'd like you to take this sleeping potion for me. You'll sleep through your healing so you won't feel a thing. You'll also get some much-needed rest."
Hermione nodded eagerly drank from the offered goblet. She immediately felt herself sinking into the bed beneath her as the surrounding room grew hazy and sounds became muffled.
Maybe, she thought as she verged on the edge of consciousness, maybe when I wake this will all have been a dream.
A/N: And that Chapter 4. Things will get moving from here on out. I'm visiting family so I don't know how much time I can fit in for writing, but I'll do what I can. Let me know what you guys think! I love getting feedback .