Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters belong to their respective owners, including Ms Rowling and the relevant movie companies. Used without permission, and with no intent to assume any kinds of rights over any of the characters.

Harry stopped and squinted up at the sun, then smiled at his fellow Gryffindor. "It's noonish. I was thinking, maybe... would you like to go visit your parents?"

---

Hermione's entire face lit up, as Harry had known it would. It really wasn't all that surprising that most versions of Hermione missed her parents severely. There was only so much one could do with letters, after all, especially considering the delays that came from the Grangers not having an owl of their own (and, therefore, having to send their mail via the muggle drop box for Hogwarts, or whatever it was they did).

"Oh, can we?!" Hermione nearly shouted, remembering to quiet her voice only at the last second. Her eyes were sparkling as she focused on Harry.

"Well, unless you think they'd mind having a visit from their lovely daughter," Harry responded. He nearly shook his head, mentally. Hermione desperately needed to learn Occlumency; his passive Legilimency drew the image of her parent's house that was filling her mind as if she were screaming it at him.

"No, no! Let's go!" Hermione had clearly entirely missed that whole 'lovely' bit, as she wasn't blushing at all, and she practically pounced on Harry to hug him for even suggesting it. "Only, how are we going to get there? I know you can't have a portkey for there."

Harry grinned, not that Hermione could see it since her head was on Harry's shoulder. "Let me worry about that." And he did. He put his arms around Hermione and turned her on-the-spot, much like he had earlier. This time, it was clear that the sensation of the apparition - the squeezing tight tube and the cracking sounds - were entirely separate from either of the other two sensations.

Hermione looked around, not moving from Harry's arms. "What?! This is my house! How did we get here?" As usual, it didn't take her long for her to answer her own question. "You apparated us! That's what that sensation was, wasn't it? The feeling of being squeezed and then being somewhere else? When did you learn that? Can you teach me?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer when a tapping sound to his right drew his attention. Both children turned their heads to look, and found themselves looking back through a clear patio door at two adults. More specifically, two Granger adults. Hermione's father glared at Harry, or, more specifically, at how tightly Hermione had her arms around his neck, and he had his around her waist.

For the second time that day, Harry and Hermione ended up on opposite ends (this time of the patio doorway) without seeming to pass through the intervening area.

* * * *

A few minutes later, both Harry and Hermione were inside the house, still standing at least two feet away from each other and blushing madly.

"Not that we're not happy to see you, Hermione, but what, exactly, was that about?" Hermione's mother asked her daughter.

But Harry was the one to answer. "Sorry," he began. "It's my fault. I asked Hermione if she wanted to visit you, and she was thanking me for asking when I surprised her by bringing her here, and then she wanted to know how we got here and we kinda forgot what we'd look like standing together that way." Most of that was said in a rush, which the parents took a moment to parse before grinning in a way that did NOT make Harry feel any more at ease.

"Oh, well, that's all right then," Hermione's father said, before turning to sweep his daughter into a hug that put Harry's to shame.

"Daaaaaaaaad!" Hermione whined, but all three of the other people in the room knew that her complaint was just because she was expected to complain, not because she really wanted to. It was really rather the opposite.

"So, what happened to your hair, Hermione? And your teeth?" This was her mother asking, barely suppressing the desire to ask her daughter to open her mouth more fully so that she could see.

Hermione opened her mouth to explain, but Harry, who had been looking anywhere but at the reunion, replied, "Those are my fault too, I'm afraid. See, we're, technically, away from school without leave. I needed to do some shopping, and I decided to bring Hermione along to corrupt her."

"Harry!" Guess who this was.

"Is it working?" was the amused - and surprisingly hopeful - question from Hermione's mother, who wrinkled her nose in suppressed laughter when both children blinked at her in surprise.

Harry grinned toothily at Hermione, and said, "Anyway, I decided to stop by a bookstore..." And he could already see the looks of understanding popping up on the parents' faces, giving clear indication of where Hermione's intelligence came from. "... and didn't want her to be recognized. So I changed the color of her hair and conjured a set of glasses for her."

Harry flicked his wrist, and his wand popped out of the new holster. He began to gesture toward Hermione, but stopped. He tilted his head thoughtfully for a moment, then walked over to one wall of the kitchen they were standing in and gestured with the wand, 'drawing' something on the wall. Hermione's curiosity peaked moments later and she followed Harry over, and then she was followed by her parents.

"Is that a rune against... detection?" Hermione asked, as she stared as the magical fire writing itself into the wall where Harry's wand passed. Her parents looked at each other in confusion.

"A temporary one," Harry confirmed, finally closing the rune. He placed one hand against the rune and 'pushed' his magic into it, causing it to flare, something which the parents only felt as a shiver down their spines. "I also thought maybe you might want to be able to do magic here as well for a while," Harry continued. "Finite Incantatem," he added, tapping Hermione's head with his wand and restoring her normal hair color.

"I can do magic here?" Hermione almost shrieked - happily this time.

"Well, limited magic," Harry responded, his tone distant, a distracted frown settling on his face. "It won't completely block the Trace, but will mute it somewhat. You won't want to do anything like a patronus out here, for example. Or disapparate either."

"Hermione," her mother said, drawing her daughter's attention away from the glare that was beginning to surface when Harry mentioned two kinds of magic that Hermione could not yet do. "Would you care to explain what's going on here? I thought you couldn't do magic outside of school, not until you're seventeen?"

Meanwhile, Harry's frown was deepening, not that anyone was paying too much attention to it. Both parents were focused on their child, and vice versa. "It's what I just said. Harry... he used a set of runes that represent a shield against detection. I guess that means that I can do magic here, but the Ministry won't be able to detect it."

"This isn't good," Harry muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "This needs to be fixed as soon as possible."

"What are you talking about now, Harry?" Hermione said, turning back around to him.

"What needs to be fixed?" Her father asked at the same time, his own stance tense. He didn't like not knowing things, especially things noticeable to a fourteen-year-old boy after being in the room less than ten minutes.

Harry grimaced. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare anyone. It's not really BAD, per se. Just not all that great." He paused. "This is actually easier to show, rather than tell. Can we go sit down, and I'll explain?" He gestured at the kitchen table.

Instead of answering, the parents turned and headed to the table, sitting on one side of it, while Harry approached the opposite side of it with Hermione. He made a few gestures with his wand, but no incantation, and two new sets of glasses appeared on the table. Both of those glasses had a long thin chain attached to them. Harry muttered a few words under his breath over each set of glasses, then turned and tapped Hermione's pair as well, muttering the same set of words.

"Oh!" Hermione said, sounding pleased. "Oh?" And then sounded like she was just trying to figure out what he did.

Harry said, "If you could please put these on, er, Doctors Granger?" He smiled and blushed. "I'll need to keep the other ends of the chains in my hand, though. And you must tell me if you start feeling something like a bad headache is coming on. These things are not supposed to be used for long, and different people react badly at different times. I don't think it would make a difference between non-magical people or not, but better safe than sorry."

Once the two adult Granger had put the glasses on, choosing not to correct Harry's title application since it was relatively minor, Harry began explaining. "What you're seeing is the runic structure that has been placed on this house, essentially this house's warding scheme. See the red-and-gold one?" He waited until all three nodded. "That's the anti-detection rune I just put up. But I felt that it went up too easily, so I wanted to take a closer look, and what I'm seeing has me dismayed. You see the grayish-white rune that's all around the anti-detection rune?" Once again, he waited until all three nodded, and took a breath.

"That is one that the Ministry of Magic put up. They put up the same wards on the houses of all Muggleborn wizards and witches, and it acts as a sensor for nearby magic. Right now, it is, at best, semi-active, but that's not that unusual, I don't think. They probably only fully activate them during Christmas and Easter break and Summer hols. Think of the ward sets like... a mobile phone mast, or even just a signal booster for the television aerial. These wards detect the presence of magic and send notice of it to the Ministry. It's how the Ministry knows if someone does illegal underage magic to send them their notice, or to send the Magic Reversal Squads for accidental magic. Because the dispersal of muggleborns is, as far as anyone can tell, completely random, it works as a detection matrix. Of course, there's nothing really wrong with that, but... do you know why I think it's bad, Hermione?"

For once, the most intelligent witch at Hogwarts was stumped. "It sounds like it's completely normal, so, no."

Harry sighed. "It is perfectly normal, and that's the problem. There aren't any protective wards." He turned to explain to the parents. "I have enemies in the Wizarding world. Bad ones. They're always after me. And Hermione is well-known as one of my best mates. Hermione would just die if you were hurt, and I would feel just as bad, if not worse, if her or her family got hurt because of me."

"Oh, Harry, you worry too much," Hermione said, after a moment or two.

"No, Hermione, I don't," Harry said, looking over at his school chum, trying to impart just how much he didn't worry too much without saying anything. By the paling of her face, she'd figured it out. "Besides, better to worry too much than not enough, right?" Harry replied, turning to look at her. "I don't think you really have a clue how much you mean to me."

Hermione's father cleared his throat, drawing Harry's attention back, even as Hermione's face began to color ever-so-slightly. "So, how do we go about making arrangements to fix this?" His tone was mild, and Harry was able to pick up on his thoughts easily; that if they'd been safe so far, it wasn't really a big deal. Hermione's mother was wondering about how much it would cost as well.

"Well, the best way would be to get Gringotts out here and have them do it, sir," Harry said.

"You can call me 'Dan,' Harry," Hermione's father said.

"And I'm Emma," her mother said.

Harry looked from one parent to the other, and smiled a little queasily, but didn't say anything about that. Instead he went on. "I'll pay for it, in any case," and he went on when both parents began to protest. "I have plenty of money, and it's just sitting there doing nothing but gathering interest. I'd much rather put it to use protecting the people I care for and their families. Please... let me do this. Hell, I'd probably do this for all muggleborns if I could, not just Hermione. Maybe I will, once I fully come into my inheritance."

Hermione grimaced, "You know, Harry, you have something of a 'saving people thing,' don't you?"

Harry's startlement at that particular phrase caused Hermione's eyes to narrow, as she added one more thing she'd be asking him about to the list. His sputtering response only made it more obvious, at least for the few moments before he regained his composure. "Only for people worth saving, Hermione."

Once again, Dan Granger cleared his throat, seeing that his daughter and her friend had once again forgotten where they were. Emma, for her part, thought it was kind of cute. Of course, she was familiar with Harry, at least by name, from Hermione's letters, and a burgeoning relationship like she thought she was seeing made her feel good for her little girl.

Deciding to change the subject to ease the tension slightly, Hermione's father said, "Well, it was good of you to come. I'm afraid that we don't really have much in the house at the moment." Harry was blinking in confusion, clearly not understanding, when he went on. "Hermione can tell you that we normally do our shopping on Sundays."

"Oh!" Harry said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to try to impose or anything like that. I can handle food for both of us. Or even all four of us, if you like."

Hermione frowned, looking at Harry suspiciously but not saying anything.

Her father wasn't suspicious, but curious. "Oh really? It doesn't look like you're carrying a kitchen on you."

Harry laughed, "Well, I am, actually, but that's not what I meant. I just meant we'd get it from Hogwarts."

Hermione's frown deepened, and now she spoke up, "How are you going to do that? You just said that disapparating from here would be visible through the anti-detection ward."

"There are creatures that can apparate through wards without tripping them, Hermione," Harry said. "House elves, in this case."

Hermione went beyond frowning, her face turning downright disapproving. "You're going to call Dobby here?"

For her part, Emma was curious now, "What's a Dobby? And what are house elves?"

"Dobby works for Hogwarts, and so probably would not hear me from here, though I can never be completely sure when it comes to him," Harry replied evenly.

At this, Hermione's face twitched from disapproving to disgusted, and she glared at Harry. "They're a race of slaves that Wizards use for cleaning, cooking and all the things that we normally do to maintain a house."

Harry let out a tired sigh. This was a conversation he'd had many a time with his best female friend, and it rarely got any easier. It certainly didn't help that her parents' faces were taking on the same disgusted look that their daughter had. "They aren't slaves. They are closer to servants, and they like to do that stuff, Hermione. Non-magical society believes they are creatures called 'Brownies.'" At that, Hermione stared. She'd never even thought of that. "Besides... I am kinda disappointed you actually think I would enslave anyone, considering how I grew up."

Harry hadn't really been looking at the Granger parents' faces, and didn't see their faces shift from disgust to frowning concern. Emma looked at Dan, nodded to Harry - specifically, his hand-me-down clothes - and then looked back again, her eyebrows going up. Dan shrugged, and stayed silent. Hermione, for her part, had the grace to look sheepish. "Harry, I know you..."

Harry sat forward and interrupted again, taking Hermione's hands in his own. This time he got raised eyebrows from her father, but, once again, Harry did not notice. "Hermione, there's absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to protect the house elves. In fact, I love that you're so passionate about it. But there are things that you don't know, things that you're not letting yourself see because your vision is blurred by that passion. Or, even what I might call obsession."

Hermione's mind immediately flashed back to something Harry'd said earlier, that 'the only times I don't trust you is when you let your obsessions get strong enough to block everything else out.' She wondered if this turned out to be one of those times, even though he had also said it usually didn't happen for another couple of years.

"See, the problem isn't the elves," Harry continued. "They enjoy working as they do. It may not have always been that way, but that's the way things are now. As far as I know, the early history of the house elves is apocryphal. I don't think they even recall it anymore."

"So, what is the problem then?" Dan asked. "Because there clearly is one from what you're saying." Both of the parents had schooled their faces back into neutrality.

Harry turned to look back at both parents, but didn't release Hermione's hands. "Bad treatment on the part of their 'masters,' mostly. Dobby, the elf that Hermione mentioned, used to belong to the Malfoys. I don't know for sure, but Hermione may have mentioned their son, Draco, in some of her letters?" When the parents nodded, Harry went on. "They used to beat him and make him feel worthless, and then they would force him to punish himself. It got to the point where he still does do that, even though he's not worked for them for almost two years now. And by punishing himself, I mean things like twisting his ears, beating his head against a wall - or other convenient solid object - or even ironing his fingers. It was bad. In spite of all that, during the summer between our first and second year, Dobby came to where I was living to try and warn me away from Hogwarts, where his master was planning to do something heinously evil."

Now the parents were aghast again, but at least it was for the proper reasons. And it showed. "Dobby works for Hogwarts now, and he's paid and given time off... er, I probably should have mentioned that normal house elves don't get either, which is why that's important. Hogwarts also employs at least a hundred other elves. They cook the food and clean the castle, and they do it well. But the key bit is that they don't get paid and they don't take time off, and they like it. Headmaster Dumbledore would certainly be willing to pay each and every one of them, but I'd bet that not a single one has asked, even since Dobby has arrived."

Hermione inserted, "Dumbledore..."

Harry grinned evilly, "Professor or Headmaster Dumbledore, Hermione." His tone indicated that this one was something of an inside joke, and Hermione flushed bright red for just a moment at the teasing.

"Headmaster Dumbledore should have offered it to them!"

"He may have," Harry replied. "I don't know. But if I know house elves, their reaction would have been to reject it out of hand. Most house elves consider it an insult to take pay."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out. "Besides, Hermione, unless you're just going to give up our friendship after I come into my Lordship, you need to get over this."

Hermione blinked and stuttered, "Wh... what do you mean?"

He shook his head, "You saw the list of properties that the Potters own, Hermione. Who do you think manages them, and have since my parents were killed? It's quite possible that I may have as many elves as Hogwarts has when I hit age seventeen." He shook his head, interrupting when Hermione opened her mouth to respond. "And no, I won't be releasing them either."

"But... why not? They should be free!"

Once again, Harry sighed. "I didn't want to say this, but I think you're not getting the point. Hermione, house elves can die from being freed like that." And the emphasis placed on the word 'die' indicated - at least to Hermione - that he had probably seen it happen in other 'worlds.'

Hermione blanched again, but Harry wasn't done yet. "You saw Winky, Hermione. Elves are no different from humans when they're alcoholics. If the drinking itself doesn't kill them, then it's possible for them to have an accident while they're sloshed. They can even get depressed enough to kill themselves."

Into the pregnant silence that followed that, Harry went on, "That said, it doesn't take them long to bounce back if they are given a reason to. After I call Winky here in a bit, you can tell me if she looks better than she did the last time you saw her. And that's after only about, what, nine hours?"

Emma asked, "I'm assuming that 'Winky' is the elf you were going to call, and she's a female?"

"Yes, exactly," Harry said, looking back at the parents. "Another Wizard released her from service - a master does that by giving the elf clothes - for what I consider to be completely spurious reasons. She's been suffering since then, beating herself and getting drunk on butterbeer, and I decided that..." And here he turned back to look Hermione in the eye. "... that I didn't want her to suffer anymore. I don't like seeing anyone in pain when I can do something about it." He looked back at the parents again. "Don't get me wrong. House elves like Winky are dead useful. I won't say that Mister Crouch's mistake in releasing her wasn't one that I was taking full advantage of, but it's mostly because I don't want her to be in pain anymore."

Turning back to Hermione, he squeezed her hands (which he'd still not let go of) and went on. "There's more, of course. I said before that I love your passion about this, but you're approaching this from the wrong perspective. You need to stop trying to change the elves, who are, as a whole, pretty much happy, and try and change the masters. Work on getting laws passed on proper treatment. And another thing - why just the elves? What about all of the other sentient magical creatures in our world? The goblins? They may manage our bank, but they get very little actual respect and even less equality. Unless you actually think that what Binns..."

"Professor Binns, Harry," Hermione interrupted, looking smug at getting the chance to get back at Harry for his Dumbledore comment earlier.

Harry's expression was caught halfway between annoyance and amusement, but he just continued. "... is teaching nothing but history from the perspective of the victor? What about the dwarves? Do you really think they liked playing in Lockhart's little Cupid thing? How about the centaurs? Or the part-humans like Hagrid and Fleur, who are painted with the same brush? What about the fairies being used as Christmas lights?"

Dan looked over at Emma, his eyes wide. He mouthed to her, "Dwarves? Centaurs? Fairies?" They were familiar with Gringotts goblins, of course.

Hermione frowned, and said, "I never thought about it like that."

Harry nodded. "I know. And the truth is that there isn't much we can do about it as students. We may not be able to do much once we're out of Hogwarts, but we might be able to. We won't know until we try. But the first thing you have to do is stop making those little hats and socks to try and surreptitiously free them."

Hermione said, "But..." And was cut off again.

"You're insulting them, Hermione," Harry said, and watched for a moment as her mouth worked but nothing came out. "Hermione, you don't own the elves, so you can't release them. All those little hats and socks are doing is making them angry enough to refuse to come into Gryffindor tower at all."

"But... but... the common room is still always clean!" Hermione was grasping at straws, trying to reclaim her position.

"Dobby is doing all of that by himself," Harry responded, then tilted his head thoughtfully. "Though he may have dragged Winky into it too occasionally. He's also the one who's been taking all the hats and socks. And he likes them too, particularly the socks, but that's neither here nor there. The next thing you have to do is find a way to apologize to them. I have some ideas there."

Harry looked back at the parents, and said, slyly, "Actually, I was trying to figure out a way that I could get some of them to attend Master classes with Marco Pierre White, but I'm not sure, even if their magic was up to making them look like humans, that they could act human enough to protect the Statute of Secrecy. So I was thinking that maybe there might be an encyclopedia of cooking or recipes or something like that. They'd enjoy that, I think. What do you think, Hermione? Happen to know a bookstore around here that might have something like that?"

With that, smiles started to spread on all three of the Granger's faces.

---

Author's Notes: I'd like to thank my (new) beta reader (and Brit-picker), Coulsdon Eagle. You can find his work at .org/profile/11198, including his story Hermione Granger and the Goblet of Fire. Go check it out!