Disclaimer: Not mine, don't own it — I wish! Unfortunately, Harry Potter belongs to JKR and not to me; I'm just playing in her sandbox.

Author's Notes:

» Hermione changes her name during the story. However, to make it easier to understand, I'll continue to refer to Hermione by the name we all know. The only times her new name will be used is when she introduces herself to new people, or when someone is speaking to her and addresses her by name.

» This story is has been written in full and will be posted at the rate of approximately one chapter a week.

» Thank you to atokkota for her support and feedback.

.o.O.o.

CHAPTER 4

Once home in Montréal, Hermione soon settled back into work while she waited for her GED results. She had no intention of starting university until after the baby was born, probably not until the autumn, or fall, semester when her baby would be close to a year old. That would give her plenty of time to spend with her child — she still did not yet know if it was a boy or a girl — before having to place him or her into day-care, something that she was already reluctant to do despite knowing the need for it.

Reading the book on magical pregnancy, she was relieved to see that while it was recommended that a pregnant witch be attended by a magical Healer, there was no real reason for her not to be treated by a Muggle doctor. She was already registered with a Muggle OB/GYN recommended by Constance and was happy to continue in the care of the Muggle physician.

The pregnancy continued without any problems, much to Hermione's relief. Even though she had been assured by both Poppy Pomfrey, the Hogwarts Mediwitch, and a Healer recommended by Madam Pomfrey, that she was in perfect health, she had been worried that there might be lingering effects from the torture she had suffered at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange during the war, since she still suffered occasional muscle spasms, especially when she was tired or run down. According to her doctor, the baby seemed to be thriving nicely.

Hermione had started taking pre-natal yoga classes as soon as she settled in Montréal and started her Lamaze classes after she entered her third trimester. There were a few raised eyebrows in the first class when she attended with Constance, but there were other expectant mothers taking the classes who also were without traditional partners supporting them and the fact that she was with her 'aunt' was quickly forgotten about. It was the easiest way to pass off her relationship to the Bellamy family, without going into long and convoluted explanations which were no one's business but her own.

Finally the big day arrived. Hermione was very nervous but Constance was extremely supportive, keeping her calm and easing her fears. She had been warned that she would most likely be cursing the baby's father before her labour was over but Hermione was determined not to think about him or mention his name. She wanted to focus on the one positive thing that had come out of her relationship with Ronald Weasley, namely her baby. 'I'm looking forward to the future, not looking back,' she resolved.

Twelve hours of labour later, and at five minutes past two in the morning of the eleventh of November, Hermione pushed a squalling infant into the world.

"It's a girl," announced the doctor.

"Is she all right?" asked Hermione wearily, tears running down her cheeks as she was overwhelmed by emotion.

"She's perfect," the nurse reassured her, as she placed the little girl in her mother's arms.

A few minutes later, Hermione was even further reassured when both Apgar tests came back with perfect scores. 'I thought a score of ten was unusual. I wonder if that's due to her magic or possibly even the protections I'm sure Kreacher placed on me when he healed me,' she mused.

"She's beautiful — and I think she's going to have curly hair like yours," laughed Constance, having heard from Hermione in great detail just how much her hair had been the bane of her life when she was younger. "Have you thought of a name yet?"

"Yes," replied Hermione, not lifting her gaze from the little miracle in her arms. Hermione was deeply and irrevocably in love with her daughter, the baby's father now forgotten and irrelevant. "I know I should call her Poppy since she was born on Poppy Day⁵ but I'm going to call her Aimée. My beloved Aimée," she whispered, kissing her forehead.

When Hermione was discharged from hospital, the Bellamys insisted on her moving in with them for a week or two and Hermione, who was feeling very overwrought and was also devastated that her parents would never get to know their granddaughter, was glad to accept. She spent a couple of weeks being happily pampered and mothered by the kindly Constance but was soon back in her own apartment. At first she was a bit daunted by the thought that she was solely responsible for this little person and was grateful to know that Constance was merely at the other end of the phone.

"Come on, Nonie," she told herself. "You survived a war. You survived torture by Bellatrix bloody Lestrange. You got Harry and Ron through that same war and six years of school. It's only natural to worry but if you could do all that, you can certainly manage to bring up your own daughter." The pep talk worked and she put her doubts aside to focus on raising her child, who she absolutely adored.

Xavier and Constance encouraged Hermione to go out and socialise, so she took Aimée to baby swimming sessions and to a Mother and Baby group. It was good for her to mix with other young mothers but she did not become close to anyone in particular. It was hard for her to answer when people's innate curiosity led them to ask Hermione about herself, since there was very little of her past that she could talk about beyond the age of eleven when she had first started Hogwarts. She was also still very badly hurt by Ron and Harry's treatment of her and, never one to make friends easily, she now found it hard to trust new people. The only ones she was not wary of were the Bellamy family. For some reason, she had knew instinctively that she could implicitly trust the Bellamys and she came to rely on them the way she had once done Harry and the Weasleys.

Hermione returned to work part-time when Aimée was three months old, taking the baby with her. There was always someone in the office where the baby area had been set up, and all the employees of Bellamy's Books (Xavier, an office clerk, a shipping clerk who dealt with mail orders and another sales assistant who job shared with Hermione) doted on the child. With her mass of curls, spaniel eyes and happy disposition, she charmed everyone she met. She had all the Bellamy Books employees wrapped around her little finger within half a day!

When Aimée was nine months old, she got an ear infection while a tooth was coming through. The teeth that had already appeared had not bothered Aimée quite as much but this one, combined with the ear infection, was causing her a lot of pain. Aimée's temperature spiked and Hermione was frantic. She did not want to cast a sleeping charm on Aimée while she was feverish and so Hermione ended up pacing the floor all night, trying to calm her screaming daughter. Nothing she tried worked on the miserable child and all she could do was cast silencing charms, so that she would not disturb the neighbours.

"Shush, beloved Aimée. Please don't cry, baby," she begged, tears streaming down her cheeks. The exhausted young mother would have given anything for a partner to take her daughter out of her arms and send her to bed.

'Not that Ron would have done that anyway, as in his world, taking care of the children is the woman's job,' she thought scornfully.

The Muggle remedies for infants prescribed by the doctor did not work on Aimée. Realising that she probably needed a magical remedy, Hermione sighed in frustration. 'I could easily brew it myself but I don't know the dosage for an infant.'

Hermione realised that despite all the preparations she had made for motherhood, this was something she had overlooked. Eventually, Aimée wore herself out sufficiently to fall asleep and Hermione collapsed into bed for a couple of hours' rest. When morning arrived, Hermione called Constance.

"Do you mind looking after Aimée for a few hours today? She's teething and has an earache. She also has a bit of a fever, probably because she cried all night. She's asleep now but I need to go out and do some errands and I don't want to take her out with me while she's feeling so rough."

"Of course I don't mind!" Constance exclaimed. "You know I adore her. I'll be right over."

Twenty minutes later, Constance was ensconced in Hermione's small flat, cooing over the sleeping baby.

Hermione left and quietly apparated close to the magical district, or Quartier Magique, which she had not ever wanted to enter. Ducking into an alleyway, she cast a strong glamour on herself before entering the portal into the magical section of Montréal. She was relieved to see that there were as many people there wearing Muggle clothes as there were wearing wizarding robes, and so she did not stand out. Finding a book store, she went in and asked a shop assistant where the potions and parenting sections were.

"Is there something in particular you're looking for?" the shop assistant asked.

Hermione thanked Merlin that she spoke French with a perfect accent as, despite her best efforts to try and pick up a more Canadian accent, her British tones were still very evident in her English speech. She did not need to worry about her accent either in French or in English with the bi-lingual Bellamy family, as not being magical, they would not have heard of Hermione Granger. On this foray back into the wizarding world, however, she wanted to be very careful and made sure to appear the complete Francophone.

"I have a young daughter who is teething. She has an ear infection with it, too. I need to brew potions for her but I don't know the dosages for infants, or even for young children as she grows older. Is there a potions book that gives guidelines for common household potions for infants and children?" she explained.

"Indeed there is," the young man replied, leading her to the appropriate section in the stacks. "Do you speak English? This text for family potions is new but it's rushing off the shelves. It's highly recommended. The author has simplified the brewing processes and has made them more efficacious. He has also given very clear and unmistakeable instructions for dosages from birth up to adulthood, including advising which potions should be diluted for children and in what proportions. It's definitely the best book of its type but it's in English."

"I speak English. Thanks for your help," Hermione replied and the tome to the till to pay. Glancing at the cover, she was stunned to see that the author was Severus Snape, her former Potions Professor. 'Although why I'm surprised, I don't know. He's one of the top Potions Masters in the world and with all his experience brewing for the Hogwarts infirmary and also consulting for St Mungo's, he certainly knows what he's talking about with regard to dosages for the young.'

Knowing Severus Snape as she did, she had absolute confidence in the book and gladly paid for it. She had intended to purchase ready made potions at the apothecary on the way home, to give Aimée an initial dose while she brewed more stocks, but now decided that she would rather trust Severus Snape's instructions than a brewer she did not know. Quickly skimming the recipes of the relevant potions, she checked the ingredients needed and stopped off at the apothecary to buy the few she did not have in stock. Leaving the magical district, she cancelled the glamour and apparated home.

"That was quick!" exclaimed Constance when she entered her apartment.

"I only had a couple of things to do and they went much more quickly than I anticipated. Is Aimée still sleeping?"

"Unfortunately so. I'm going to miss my usual cuddles with our little princess," Constance pouted.

Hermione snorted. "I'm not sure princess is the right word. She was a little monster last night."

"Have you taken her to the doctor?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "There's nothing to worry about. The little madam is just miserable and making sure we all know it."

"That's what children do, Nonie, dear," the older woman replied with a wink.

Hermione laughed and hugged Constance. "Thank you for coming over this morning."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay for a while? You look exhausted yourself. Why don't you go and lie down while I wait here for Aimée to wake up?"

Hermione shook her head. "Thanks for the offer, Constance, but I don't think I could go back to sleep right now. I'll try and crash this afternoon when she — hopefully! — goes back down for her nap."

"All right, but call me if you need anything. I mean it, Nonie: anything at all."

"I will, Constance. I promise."

Constance left and Hermione went to check on her daughter. Seeing that she was beginning to stir, Hermione quickly went to the kitchen to brew the necessary potions for her daughter, which fortunately took very little time to brew. Just as she had decanted them both and put them in the fridge to cool, Aimée began to cry.

'That was good timing,' she thought over her daughter's wails. "Good morning, my beloved. Are you feeling better today?" she asked the unhappy baby as she lifted her out of her cot. Quickly changing Aimée's nappy and dressing her, Hermione took her into the kitchen. Checking Snape's advice for children under a year of age, she loaded the recommended doses into plastic baby dispensing syringes and carefully squirted the potions into Aimée's mouth.

"I know, baby. They taste icky, doesn't they?" she said, as Aimée screwed up her face and tried to spit the potions out. "Professor Snape's potions always taste icky, I'm afraid, but they will definitely make you feel better, my beloved." Hermione sat down to nurse Aimée, who fed eagerly, washing the unpleasant taste away. By the time she had finished nursing, Aimée had perked up considerably.

"Oh, you do feel better now, don't you, beloved Aimée? Another dose this afternoon and then one more this evening and you should be as right as rain by tomorrow."

Hermione spent the day playing with her daughter who was clearly much happier. 'I wonder if I should find a magical Healer to register with?' she mused. 'I may not be able to diagnose everything myself. I hadn't got very far through my Healer training before I left Britain and I hadn't worked in the paediatric ward at all yet, so I really shouldn't be treating her myself.'

Hermione really did not want to join the magical community but she also wanted what was best for her daughter. 'Let's just get through this tooth first and then I'll decide,' she sighed.

However, before Hermione had a chance to decide, Aimée made the decision for her. The following morning, still feeling slightly under the weather, her disgruntled and precocious daughter did her first piece of accidental magic, surprising Hermione greatly as it was rare for accidental magic to manifest at this young an age. They were at Bellamy's Books when it happened but, luckily, Hermione was alone in the office with Aimée at the time. She was taken by surprise when a couple of Obliviators apparated into the office with almost silent pops.

"Oh, good," said one, a tall man with blond, curly hair, to his partner. "There's only the mother here. We only need to explain, not Obliviate. I'm sorry, Ma'am, I'm being rude. Allow me to introduce myself: I'm Justin Clearwater and this is my partner, Olivier Paquet."

"Nonie Gale. Pardon me, but why are you here?" Hermione demanded.

"Erm, we need to explain something to you, Madam Gale. I know this is going to sound weird, but do you believe in magic?" Justin asked.

Hermione sighed and slipped her wand out of her holster. Showing it to the two men, she replied, "I'd say so, but, I repeat — what are you doing here?"

"Well, your daughter did accidental magic," said Olivier. "Since this is a non-magical business, we thought we might need to do…"

"Damage control," interjected Hermione wearily. "It's all right, sir. I know about magic, although I'm surprised you were going to explain it to me. My parents weren't informed about magic until I got my Hogwarts letter when I was eleven. It would have been much easier for us all if we had received an explanation when I first began to do accidental magic. They were really worried about me."

"Yes, well, Canada isn't as hidebound as Britain," Olivier explained, making an assumption based upon Hermione's accent. "We find it better to inform non-magical parents as soon as their child shows signs of doing magic. It helps keep the accidental magic to a minimum and stops families worrying."

Justin had been looking at Hermione appraisingly. "Excuse me for asking, Madam Gale, but might I assume you left Britain because of the war?"

"That's right. Don't worry, I'm not a Death Eater on the run. I'm a Muggle-born," she said, pulling up her sleeve to show that she had no Dark Mark.

"I didn't really think you were a Death Eater, Madam Gale," he said. "I highly doubt that a Death Eater would be working in a Muggle book shop. I was just wondering, what with you being a bit of a refugee and working in a non-magical business, if you know anyone in the magical community here? Only my cousin — she also left Britain because of the war — anyway, she owns a day-care facility for magical children. I'm not trying to drum up business for her but if that little cutie over there is already doing accidental magic, it might not be the best of ideas to carry on bringing her to work with you. You can contact my cousin by owl, floo or telephone. Let me give you her card; give her a call and have a chat with her."

Hermione noticed the continued use of the term 'non-magical' instead of 'Muggle' and she liked it. It didn't sound derogatory like 'Muggle' did. She took the card and read it. "Penelope Clearwater, I remember her. She was a few years ahead of me and in Ravenclaw, while I was in Gryffindor, so she probably won't remember me. You have the same hair and eyes as your cousin."

He laughed. "So people keep telling us. I don't see the resemblance myself, although Penny says that's because I don't want to see it because I don't think it's manly enough."

Hermione smiled back. "Thank you for giving me Penelope's card. I probably will contact her."

"Good. Well, in that case, our work here is done. Have a good day, Madam Gale," he said giving her a jaunty salute, before he turned and apparated away quietly.

'I guess I'm rejoining the wizarding world,' she thought with a sigh.

Hermione stared at the phone. 'It's only a telephone, it's not going to hurt you,' she told herself.

Gritting her teeth, she picked up the phone and dialled the number on the business card. As she sat listening to the rings on the other end, she almost slammed the phone down but just as she twitched her arm ready to move it, the phone was answered. "Hello? Clearwater Day-care."

"Hello, may I speak to Penelope Clearwater, please?" Hermione replied.

"Speaking. How may I help you?"

"Your cousin, Justin, gave me your business card. I have a nine month old daughter. I've been taking her to work with me but she did her first accidental magic today and, as I work in a non-magical business, I need to make other arrangements for her while I'm at work."

"I understand," replied Penelope warmly. "We're open every weekday from eight o'clock in the morning until six o'clock in the evening. I realise that's shorter hours than non-magical day-care centres but with all our parents being able to use magical travel, they don't need to factor possible traffic problems into their daily routine. We're also open on Saturdays from eight until two. Would it be possible for you to come and visit Clearwater Day-care either this afternoon or some time tomorrow? We can discuss the details when we meet in person."

"I don't finish work today until half past five. My daughter is still too young to side-along apparate and I don't have access to a floo right now, so I'll be coming by non-magical transport, which means I probably wouldn't arrive before six. Perhaps it might be better tomorrow… this might be a strange request, but would it be all right if I arrive just after two o'clock tomorrow and we sit and talk over coffee? I know it's an imposition since it's after hours, but you'll understand when you see me."

"That's fine." Penelope sounded puzzled. "May I have your name, please?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot. My name is Nonie Gale and my daughter is Aimée."

"Very well, Madam Gale. I'll look forward to seeing you at two o'clock tomorrow afternoon."

The next day, Hermione arrived at Clearwater Day-care at quarter past two. She wanted to be sure that everyone apart from Penelope had left because she was concerned about what Penelope's initial reaction would be upon seeing her.

Walking into the building, she called out, "Miss Clearwater?"

Moving further in, she saw Penelope with her back to her, talking to a young girl who was in her arms. Penelope turned around at the sound of Hermione's voice calling her and her jaw dropped. "Hermione Granger?" she said incredulously.

"And that reaction is exactly why I didn't want to meet you when other people were around," she said wryly. "I'm no longer Hermione Granger. I changed my name magically."

"That sounds like a story," the older woman said sympathetically.

Hermione sighed. "It really is."

"Come on," said Penelope. "I have a flat upstairs. Let's go and get that coffee you suggested on the phone yesterday and you can tell me your story."

"That sounds good," Hermione said with relief and followed Penelope up to her home.

Up in the apartment, Penelope put the little girl she had been holding in a play area. "This is my daughter, Phoebe."

"And this is Aimée," Hermione said, putting her daughter down beside Penelope's.

As Penelope bustled around making coffee and putting out a plate of biscuits, Hermione studied Penelope's daughter. She had bright red curls and appeared to be a couple of years older than Aimée but Hermione could see that she was being very careful with the smaller girl. 'She must be used to being around little ones from the day-care centre,' Hermione thought. 'She has her mother's curls but the colour… is she…?'

"Penelope, forgive me for asking this, but is Phoebe's father by any chance Percy Weasley?"

The blonde haired woman nodded, her blue eyes wistful. "We were together for a couple of years after we finished Hogwarts but when Percy became so ambitious, even at the expense of his family, we began to have problems. We were continually fighting, especially when he supported that toad, Umbridge, despite the fact that she was so badly prejudiced. I couldn't believe it when he described her as a lovely woman! The final straw for me was Dumbledore's death. Percy was being so self-righteous and unsympathetic about it. I just knew that Percy wasn't seeing the big picture and he simply didn't realise that with Professor Dumbledore's death, war would break out and the Death Eaters would take over.

"I was already around three months pregnant at the time but with how bad things were between us, I kept putting off telling Percy. The day after Dumbledore's funeral, I left. My parents and I came here because we have family here. My Mum is a Muggle-born and we knew she'd be in danger. I didn't want to — couldn't — be with Percy anymore. When the war was over, I didn't contact Percy immediately because I wanted to make sure everything had died down completely before I let anyone in Britain know where I was. To be honest, I also wasn't sure he wouldn't end up in Azkaban for collaborating with Voldemort's Ministry! By the time I was ready to contact him, I found out he had just got engaged. I don't hold any grudges against Percy but we'd never be right for each other. There's too much history between us and too many bad memories. I still haven't told him about Phoebe yet because I don't want to cause problems for him with his new wife."

Hermione nodded in understanding. Percy had got engaged just before she left Britain but she had not met his fiancée. "Well, she's adorable. And you gave her a beautiful name," she said.

Penelope beamed at the compliment to her daughter. Glancing over at the little red-head, she glowed with pride. "Phoebe means bright or shining or pure. When she was born, it was the middle of the war and I desperately needed to believe that there was something bright and shining and pure in our world. I also considered calling her Lucy, which means light, for the much same reason, but despite my problems with Percy, I also wanted Phoebe to have something of her father in her, so Phoebe, which begins with the same letter of the alphabet as both my and Percy's names, felt right."

Hermione smiled. "Those are lovely reasons for her name."

"Thank you," said Penny, looking over at her daughter and smiling as well.

.o.O.o.

⁵ Poppy Day or Remembrance Day or Armistice Day or Veterans' Day, is a memorial day which has been observed on 11 November in the Commonwealth and a few other countries since the end of World War I to remember the members of their armed forces who have died in the line of duty. (Many other countries commemorate their own Remembrance Day on other dates.)