Doxies And Marguerite

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no moneys.

AN: Here we go the third chapter! Hopefully this gives you more insight.

An2: I use Google Translate so if the translation is wrong blame Google not me lol. Also is the system working or should I try something else with the whole English/French thing? Let me know!

Read. Review. Enjoy.

"This seems like a really bad idea." A nervous Harry straddled his broom with one hand while the other held an enchanted net of some sort.

"No worse than taking on Voldemort and Quill during first year!" George grinned manically.

Fred laughed and pushed his brother, "Or taking on a Basilisk by ya'self!"

Harry glares at the twins; obviously they were enjoying themselves far too much. He just knew this wasn't going to go his way…but it did sound fun. Sirius gripped his shoulders in a comforting gesture. "You'll be fine Harry. Now remember George and Fred here will throw in a few of their sleep bombs, it won't put the Doxies to sleep but it should settle them and make'em lazy. After the gas clears you and I'll go in there on our brooms and scoop them into these nets. Got it?"

Harry grins indulgently and nods at his Godfather, trying hard to ignore George and Fred snickering behind Sirius. "On the count of three, right?"

"Right!" The twins cheer at once. All at once the twins open the door just enough to chuck glass ball after glass ball filled with blue smoke into the room before slamming it shut. The four of them then put their ears against the wall and listen to the Doxies scattering and flying about…Then it's quiet. "Righty-O! Should be just clear-"

"-enough for you to go in." Fred cuts in.

"Good luck!" They chime and then all at once shove a shell-shocked Harry and grinning Sirius into the room before once again slamming the door shut. Harry holds his breath while looking at the Doxies as they stuttered around the room, flying clumsily into the walls and bookshelves.

With a decisive look in their eyes, and a shared firm nod, the two mounted their brooms and pushed off from the ground solidly. They zoomed in high circles, ever grateful for the vaulted ceilings as they zoomed in and around the room scoping up the lumbering Doxies in their enhanced nets.

When the last Doxy was captured, Sirius gave a long lone whistle, signaling for the twins to enter with an old trunk made of iron and leather. Fred and George open it and in the swiftest of movements Harry and Sirius released their catch before the twins closed the trunk and locked it. After a few well-placed locking charms all four sighed in relief. "You were magnificent Harry! You as well Fred, George! Yes, well done, well done all!"

Harry beamed at the praise, and though he had grown a few inches over the summer, he still had to tilt his head back to look into his Godfather's eyes. The pride he found there truly startled him and, not for the first time, a rush of affection and familial love and belonging flooded his heart. "What do we do with them now?"

Sirius scratched the scruff beneath his chin, "Ah Dumbledore will be here for dinner and I'm sure Hagrid can find some place for these little buggers. Now! The real work begins!" He smiled. "Fred, George put this trunk out in the drawing room will you?" The twins nodded, moving quickly to remove it from the room. Sirius then turned to his Godson. "Now Harry…let's get start." Harry grinned, happy to follow along.

Hermione sighed as she rests in the shade of the small grouping of palm trees. She had been lucky to stumble across this little inlet, blocked from view of the main beach by a small outcrop of sea weathered rock face. After finally convincing her parents that she was indeed able to go out on her own she made her way to one of the any beaches in St. Tropez.

It was truly picturesque with the cerulean waters, white sands and open sky…it was decidedly what she needed after all the cold, cloudiness of Scotland. Admittedly, she did miss Hogwarts greatly; the magical air that surrounded her no matter where she stood on the grounds. True, Hermione was glad to see her parents and spend some time with them. She wasn't ignorant to the distance that still grows between them and her.

It seemed every year offered more and more miles Hermione had to tread in order to connect to the people who brought her into this world. Of course she knew they felt as though they were losing their only child to a world that they could never hope to understand let alone be a part of…and she didn't know quite how to make up for it. She had tried writing Harry to maybe help ease her concerns but the letter never left her hotel room. Harry, though raised in the Muggle world same as she, never had a family to love and so never had a family left behind; besides Harry was spending his first summer with Sirius and she hadn't the heart to ruin that for her best friend. Merlin knows he deserves some happiness.

No, Hermione made up her mind to leave it till she was once more surrounded by the comfort Hogwarts offered her, and then she'd seek the council of Professor McGonagall. Hermione frowned from beneath her sunglasses, would the Professor really be able to help her? Surely she'd offered valuable guidance…but what solution could there possible be in a situation such as this?

Hermione sighed once more; this was giving her a headache. She sits up and pushing her glasses atop her head, thankful that she had thought to put her hair up today. Her hair had become slightly more manageable over the summer, it was more softly curly than frizzy and wild, something she equated to the atmosphere in France. Looking to her watch, she spied that it was just past one, time to find something to eat and maybe look around the shops; she had promised both Harry and Ron that she'd bring back souvenirs.

The small inlet village on the outskirts of St. Tropez was most charming to Hermione and she often wondered if there was a magical community hidden within its white stone walls. She had looked of course, but she couldn't very well go up to a stranger and ask…she'd be sent away to some asylum for sure. Hermione giggled at the mental image. Though she did know for fact that there was a rather large magical community in and around Paris…now if only she could convince her parents to let her go there alone, understandably they were quite weary of even the thought of the wizarding world.

A sigh past her lips once more, it would not do her well to keep this train of thought least she wanted to ruin the rest of her vacation. The sun was burning bright overhead and even her sensible choice of short jean shorts and red tank top atop her bikini seemed too heavy. Spotting the ice cream bistro she'd been frequenting during her time here, she stepped in to order a blended berry smoothie.

She paid the amount of money and grinned as the first taste of tart sweetness touched her tongue. The market was open today and so with the intent to finally find at least one of the boys a present, she headed into the rows and rows of large tents and canopies. Ron of course would be the easiest to buy for, seeing as anything bought in the Muggle world equally confounded him as it did entrance him, Harry though would probably like something magical in origin…perhaps if her parents are deadest against her traveling to Paris, Hermione though a quick trip to Diagon Alley when she got home.

She passed by many sellers offering a variety of trinkets and handcrafter jewelry, but nothing caught her eye just yet. She sipped her drink, the condensation rolling over her fingers as she entered a white canvas tent. The flaps closed in behind her and instantly she was met with a pleasant coolness that caused her skin to pucker from the rapid change. Hermione frowned at the lone silver haired woman sitting at a circular table; two empty chairs left an invitation.

"Ah! Enfin! Et là, je pensais que tous les gens magiques ont disparu de cette partie de la France! Venez enfant, donc!" The silver haired woman smiled enticingly as she joked, though the joke was clearly lost on the small girl. Hermione frowned, obviously her French was very little but anyone knew that 'magiques' meant 'magical'. So this woman was a witch! (Ah! Finally! And here I thought all the magical people disappeared from this part of France! Come in child, come in!)

"Um parlez-vous anglais?" Hermione scrunched her brows, hoping beyond hope that she wasn't offending the woman. Thankfully the silver haired witch chuckled and gestured animatedly toward one of the empty chairs. (Um do you speak English?)

"Of course, child. Please sit. Take a break from this heat, non?" The woman's voice was still flushed with a French accent, but she pronounced the English words without a blemish. Hermione flushed a bright red as the woman smirked at her, though she hadn't an idea as to why. She sat across from the woman, watching her wearily. "Now little one, what brings you to my tent hmm?"

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well I was looking for a couple presents to bring back to my friends; you see they are back in England while I'm here with my parents. I thought I might find something of interest for Ron here; he's not had practice with many Muggle things and takes an interest in them. Harry though likes more magical things, same as I, seeing as we both grew up in the Muggle world, not like Ron, the magical world is the only he's ever known." She rambled. She finally stopped and took a deep breath, "Your English is quite good by the way."

The elder woman grinned fondly from across the table. "Yes it is. What is your name?"

"Hermione. Might I ask for yours as well?" She leaned forward, eager to known another magical person.

"Marguerite, but please it is either Grand-mère or if you must, Margo, to you little one." Again Hermione flushed by the strength of attention this woman bestowed upon her.

"Grand-mère? Surely you're not a Grandmother?" Yes Hermione was quite curious. This woman was indeed older than she, but surely she wasn't older than Hermione's own mother…was she?

Marguerite laughed heartedly, "Oh you flatter me little one, but yes I suppose I do not look like any Grand-mère you've ever seen." She winked at Hermione, further flushing the poor girl's cheeks. "Ah do not be embarrassed my little one, surely you've heard by now of all the magical beings in this world of ours?" She hinted.

Hermione bit her lip, "Do you mean to say that you are not a witch…but something else?"

"Let's just say I am lucky in ways that not many other are." Marguerite winked cheekily. "But yes, I am a Grand-mère, why I have two petites-filles. The eldest can't be much older than you are, and the other will be starting her first year at summer's end." She sighed, thinking about her granddaughters. "Now, let's see if we can't find something for your friend hmm? Maybe even something for yourself?"

Hermione smiled, "That'd be wonderful, Margo."

For a moment Hermione felt panic as hurt flashed behind the woman's silver-blue eyes, but surely she hadn't offended the woman, had she? "Ah Margo is fine little one, do not panic so. After all, I am not your Grand-mère…pas encore." (not yet.)

Hermione smiled gratefully, happy that she had not upset the kindly woman. She sighed, realizing for the first time that all her worries and negative thoughts had all left her since being in Marguerite's presence. The woman had an infectious aura that pulled Hermione in, wrapping her in comforting warmth that she hadn't felt since…well she could quite remember when. It was true, Marguerite was not her Grandmother, but Hermione couldn't shake the thought that she wished Marguerite was.

Important! There's a poll on my profile page. Let me know How you think Hermione and Regulus are connected or perhaps how you think they should be connected!