Neutral Ground

In London, Hermione was standing outside of the anti-Muggle wards around the house waiting for her mother and grandmother to arrive. A tight fist of nerves clenched in her stomach that made her want to spend the day in bed instead of dealing with her family. She tried to focus on the positive possibilities of the day as opposed to the complete catastrophe it could be. Finally, she saw her mother's Mercedes driving up the street. She got to her feet and waved. Her mother parked along the curb.

"I don't understand," her grandmother was saying as they got out of the car. "Why would they have gotten rid of the driveway?"

"We didn't get rid of it," Hermione said. "It's just hidden like the house. Give me your hand, Gran." She took her grandmother's hand and then her mother's and walked them through the magical curtain that surrounded the house.

"Ah, there it is," her grandmother said. "Looks the same as before."

"Wait until you get inside," her mother said. "It's completely different."

Hermione led them into the parlor where Ron was waiting. "Gran, this is my husband, Ron Weasley."

Ron smiled as her grandmother looked him up and down. "My goodness, you're tall."

"Not really. I'm only five-six, but Hermione wanted a taller husband, so she made me like this."

Her grandmother turned to Hermione with a shocked expression.

Hermione frowned at Ron. "He's joking."

He chuckled. "Well, I'll leave you ladies to it. If you need me for anything, I'll be upstairs."

Hermione knew was going to listen to the wireless or read in bed. She was so jealous. "Have a seat," she said to her mother and grandmother. "Purdy?" she called. "Can you bring the tea things out?"

A moment later an enormous tray floated over to the coffee table. There was a three tier stand of sandwiches, scones, and sweets along with a large pot of tea and some small plates. "Help yourselves." Hermione glanced nervously at the fireplace. "Mada— I mean, Auntie Hestia should be along any minute."

Her grandmother poured herself a cup of tea and looked around. "I don't miss having to see by candlelight. Electric light is so much brighter."

"Unless you're constantly popping bulbs. It's quite dark then," Hermione said.

"I suppose," her grandmother said. "The place looks really different."

"I think it looks good," her mother said. "It's warm and welcoming."

"Why are there so many sofas?"

"They're nice for conversation when we have a lot of people over."

"Party people, are you?" Her grandmother said with undisguised disapproval.

"No," Hermione said. "Mostly it's Ron's family that comes over. He's one of seven."

"Seven?" her grandmother said. "That's an awful lot of children even by Muggle standards."

"Yes," Hermione said awkwardly.

The fireplace glowed green and Hestia stepped out into the parlor. Hermione's grandmother got to her feet and the two women stood staring at each other.

"You're looking well, Honoria," Hestia finally said.

"You too, Hestia," Hermione's grandmother responded and then they resumed staring at each other. There was a marked difference in the two women. Even though Hestia was older, she looked decades younger than Hermione's grandmother. Hermione had never seen the dramatic aging difference in Muggles and magical people so clearly illustrated.

"Welcome to my home," Hermione said. "Please, have a seat. Would you like a cup of tea?"

That seemed to break the spell and the two women sat down. Hermione poured Hestia a cup of tea and handed it to her.

"You have a lovely home," Hestia said, looking around.

"Thank you. I grew up here. My parents gave it to us as a wedding gift."

"Ah," Hestia said. "What a generous gift," she said to Hermione's mother.

"Well," Monica said, smiling. "We didn't need all this space. We've got a large condo now. It suits us better. We travel a lot these days."

"Good for you," Hestia said. "Travel is good for the soul. Don't you think?"

Monica nodded, but Honoria huffed. "You won't even go into the Muggle world. What would you know about travel?"

"There are magical places all over the world. Ernest and I take a trip every year at Solstice."

"That sounds nice," Hermione said. "Ron and I have talked about doing more travel."

"You should," her mother said. "While you're still young, before you have children."

"Yes," her grandmother agreed. She took a cucumber sandwich and started eating. "This is wonderful."

"Purdy is an excellent cook," Hermione said.

Hestia took a scone.

Monica looked at her mother and her aunt. "I want to know about my biological parents."

Hestia looked up from her scone. Honoria put down her sandwich.

"What were they like?" Monica asked.

Hestia looked at her sister, who looked away. "Well, they were…I didn't know your mother well. She was a Muggle. They lived in London, near Diagon Alley but on the Muggle side. I think your Mum was some sort of healer. Landen, your father, was our cousin. He worked at Flourish & Blotts.

"Did they have any other children?" her mother asked. "Ones they kept. Do I have siblings somewhere?"

"No, dear," Hestia said. "Your mother died when you were still a baby."

"What? Why doesn't it say that on the tree?" She looked at Hermione.

"Because there isn't any information about the Muggles except their names," Hermione said. "Remember? I explained that to you. Muriel didn't have access to all that, so she just left it off."

"I don't understand," Monica said. "What happened to her?"

Hestia thought for a moment. "She was killed in an automobile crash, I believe."

"And my father?"

"He was in no fit state to raise a baby, especially a Squib, so Honoria took you."

"Where is he now?"

Hestia looked at Honoria who nodded. "Well, dear, he…understand we tried to find him with location spells, but he must have cast obfuscation spells because…" She sighed. "He seems to have slipped into the Muggle world and disappeared."

"What?" Monica looked at Hermione. "How is that possible?"

"Muggles can't come into the magical world," Hermione said. "But nothing stops us living in yours."

"But I thought you said Ron wasn't a citizen and didn't have a passport or an NHS card."

"He doesn't."

Her mother frowned. "Then how could he live in the Muggle world. Where would he get money or—"

"All of that paperwork and even money can be faked with magic. It's wrong, but it's not difficult if you have the skills."

"Landen definitely had the skills. The bigger question is why he wanted to do that?" Hestia said. "Unfortunately, after he gave you to me to give to Honoria, he Disapparated and we never saw him again, so there was no way to ask."

"I don't understand," Monica said. "Where would he go?"

"Well, he didn't stay in their flat. Ernie went looking for him there, but he was gone and didn't leave a forwarding address."

Monica stood abruptly and went into the kitchen. Hermione glanced at Hestia and her grandmother before following her mother.

"Mum?" Hermione said, but her mother had gone through the kitchen and into the back garden. Hermione followed to find her looking at the Dirigible Plum bush Ron had planted from a cutting Luna had given them.

Her mother looked at her. "This is new."

"Yes. It was gift from a friend. It'll fruit in the summer with these lovely little floating plums."

"Floating plums?"

"They're tethered to the plant, of course, until they ripen and float away. You have to watch closely in the summer for when they're ready to pick. They make really good jam."

"I see."

"I'm sorry. I had no idea when I started all this that—"

Her mother shook her head. "Don't apologize. It's good to know. I've always wondered. Actually, I'm sorry for you. It must have been so much easier not to have to deal with all this. I sometimes wonder if you regret restoring our memories."

"Not for a second."

Her mother raised her eyebrows. "Seriously? Wasn't it better to be free from all this?"

Hermione shook her head, a lump forming in her throat. "Having no family is a terrible freedom."

Her mother hugged her and kissed the side of her face. "I'm so sorry, darling. Sometimes, I forget what you went through. I think it slips my mind, because I wish so desperately that it didn't happen."

Hermione nodded against her shoulder and hugged her back.

xXx

When everyone had finally left, Hermione went upstairs to their bedroom where Ron was listening to a Quidditch match on the wireless. She fell face first on to the bed.

"It went well then?" Ron joked.

"It was barely civil," was Hermione's muffled response.

"I didn't hear any shouting, so it couldn't have been too bad."

Hermione rolled over and glared at him. "There was a tremendous amount of hurt silence."

Ron grimaced. "Oh. I think I'd prefer shouting."

"Yes." Hermione rolled back over on to her face.

Ron patted her back. "You did what you could. It's up to them now."

Hermione groaned. "Why is this so hard? You're lucky your family gets along."

"They do now. Have you forgotten that mess with Percy?"

Hermione sat up. "That's resolved though."

"Yeah. But it took a while. Things with your gran and her sister will get sorted too. You just have to be patient and let them work it out."

"I know. I just want everyone to be happy."

Ron leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Of course, you do, but it takes time. This mess wasn't made in a day, so it's not likely to be fixed in one."

She sighed. "I think I'm going to take a bath and read for a while."

"That's a good idea. Relax. You deserve it."

"Thanks."

"I'm going to take the wireless back downstairs and finish listening to the match."

"Okay."

xXx

When Harry arrived a little while later, Ron was in the parlor. The Quidditch match had reached its fourth hour with no end in sight as Yorkshire battled Cork in a torrential downpour.

"How's the match going?" Harry asked, as he came into the parlor.

"Wretched. Apparently, they can barely see the hoops and finding the Snitch is all but impossible."

Harry shook his head. "Better them than me."

"Gin didn't come back with you?"

"No, she had to get back for a team meeting tonight. She'll be home next weekend though."

"Excellent. How did things go with your cousin?"

"Surprisingly good. He's a lot more fun now that he's not living with his parents anymore."

"There you go then."

"Yeah, I mean, I don't think we're going to be best mates or anything, but it was nice seeing him, and I don't want to lose touch."

"That's great then."

Harry sat down. "Ginny was kind of appalled that he didn't know more about me."

"Uh oh." Ron knew how Ginny could be when she was appalled.

"She didn't hex him or anything."

"Good."

"But she did regale him with many stories of my exploits, always painting me in the most heroic light possible."

Ron chuckled. "Of course, she did."

Harry shook his head. "That woman."

"Yeah. It's terrible how much she loves you. That must be awful."

Harry snorted. "I can barely manage. Where's Hermione? Didn't she have her thing with her mum and gran today."

Ron nodded. "She's upstairs reading in the bath trying to relax."

"Was it that bad?"

Ron shrugged. "I didn't stay down here for the whole palaver, but it wasn't perfect so Hermione was disappointed."

"Ah." Harry rubbed his cheek. "Unreasonable expectations."

"A little bit."

Harry chuckled. "That's our girl."

Ron nodded. "Absolutely."

xXx

After another hour of listening to the Quidditch match with no end in sight, Ron turned it off and went upstairs to check on Hermione to see if perhaps she might want some company in the tub. He tapped on the bathroom door.

"Yes?"

He cracked the door open. "It's just me, can I come in?"

"Sure." She let her book drop to the floor.

"What some company?"

She smiled at him. "Okay, but can we talk for a bit?"

"Of course." Ron pulled off his shirt. "Budge over." Hermione slid forward in the tub and he got behind her, stretching his legs around her, thankful that her parents had put an oversized tub in their bathroom when they'd remodeled it some years ago. He kissed the back of her neck. "What's on your mind?"

"This might sound crazy, but have you ever noticed that sometimes things come together in kind of weird coincidences?"

"We call that magic, luv."

"Do we?" Hermione turned to look at him over her shoulder.

"Yes. When things fall into place without anyone making it happen, that's just magic sorting things out."

"Hmm." She leaned back against him. "Something happened the other day, and I'm wondering if it might not be magic."

Ron was surprised. "You don't know if something is magic? That doesn't sound like you."

"Well, I didn't recognize it at the time, but now I'm thinking it might be."

"You want to tell me what it is?"

She explained about the disappearance of her maternal grandfather.

"Okay. That's sad, but—"

"That's not the whole of it. I was in the Leaky Cauldron the other day, on the Muggle side to make a phone call, and there was a man that Terry thought was a homeless Muggle. He comes into the Leaky Cauldron every day and sits in a corner, sleeping. I gave Terry a couple of galleons to feed him when he comes in. I told him to let me know when that ran out, and I'd give him some more."

Ron resisted the urge to balk at the expense. "That was nice of you."

"I just felt bad for him, because sleeping rough was hard enough for us, and we had magic and a tent. Anyway, I also cast a cleaning charm on him, because he was a bit ripe."

"Again, nice, but—"

"The thing is, I don't usually pay any mind that sort of thing. I mean, I'm not saying I'm callous, but I grew up in London. You sort of learn to turn a blind eye. I'm not saying that's right, and maybe because of the war, I'm more sensitive now, but what if that's not it?"

"You've lost me."

"What if that was Landen Wright? What if he's been coming into the Leaky Cauldron because he's contemplating coming back into the magical world?"

Ron leaned back and let out a slow breath. "Wow. I don't know, that's kind of a leap, but simple enough to find out, isn't it?"

Hermione shifted around to look at him. "Yes, it is."

"Tomorrow then?" Ron asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Right after work?"

He nodded. "Of course."

She looked at him for a moment. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For listening, for not mocking what is probably a fool's errand."

Ron shook his head. "In the past, mocking your ideas never worked out for me."

She smiled.

"Besides, you're a powerful witch and about to have a birthday. Magic flows toward you."

"No, it doesn't," she scoffed.

He frowned at her. "You took the same magical theory classes I did. You know I'm right."

She shook her head. "Magic flows toward Harry."

"Magic flows toward both of you. How else are the three of us still alive?"

"Because Harry was the Chosen One."

"Yeah, which sort of explains him, but not entirely."

"Well, it's not like you didn't have a hand in it."

"Of course. I'm a strong wizard too. I don't deny that, and I'm not saying I didn't play a significant part, because I did, but we all know, your part was more significant than mine, and it isn't just because you're so bloody loyal."

She sat blinking at him for a moment before saying, "You really think magic flows toward me?"

"Yeah, I do. I didn't marry you just because you let me see your tits." He winked at her.

She glanced down and realized most of the bubbles between them had burst during their conversation. She laughed and threw herself at him, splashing water all over the floor.

xXx

The next day, Hermione had to deal with a house elf dispute in a pureblood household in Kent. Since, the first elf was freed, other house elves had come forward. Some were looking to be freed from their families, others were just looking for improved working conditions. Hermione had found herself playing the role of mediator more often than emancipator. She would have preferred it the other way around, but Purdy assured her that it was important to let the elves choose their fates. Hermione deferred to her wisdom and worked to make elves' lives better where she could. It wasn't easy, given her blood status. Although, Voldemort was gone, old prejudices remained. It was an uphill battle for both House Elves and Muggleborns, but at least the law was now on their side.

xXx

She was tired when she Apparated to Diagon Alley. It was a crisp fall day though, and she took a deep breath of fresh air and felt a bit better as she started walking toward the Leaky Cauldron. When she stepped through to the Muggle side, Terry was wiping down the counter as usual. She couldn't help wondering why he did that so much since it was clear no one sat at the bar very often.

"Good evening, Hermione. Need to call your mum?"

"Not today, Terry." She looked at the corner where the homeless man slept. "How's our friend doing?"

"Same as always. You still got plenty left on your two galleons. He's enjoyed his meals, but he only ever wants soup, so your money goes far."

"Do you know any more about him?"

Terry shook his head. "No. Don't say much, that one."

Hermione bit her bottom lip and looked over at the man. "I'd like to talk to him, but I hate to wake him."

Terry looked at his watch. "Eh, he'll be getting up here soon anyway. He always leaves by seven."

"To go where?"

"No idea, pet. Hey, mate," he called to the man in the corner. "Wake up. Your benefactor is here. Come and say thanks."

Hermione shook her head. "No, Terry. He doesn't need to—"

"He wanted to know. Might as well meet you."

The man lifted his head, wiped his face with his hand and got to his feet and shuffled over." He wasn't very tall, only a couple of inches taller than Hermione, although he was stoop-shouldered, so he might be taller than he seemed. He had shoulder length gray hair and a full beard.

Hermione held out her hand. "Hello."

The man looked at her hand and then down at his. "My hand is dirty."

"Doesn't matter."

He just looked at her. She dropped her hand and looked at him. He had the same clear green eyes as her grandmother and her Aunt Hestia. She decided to just ask. "Are you by chance, Landen Wright?"

The old man's eyes widened. "Yes. How could you—?"

"I'm your granddaughter," she said bluntly. "Hermione Granger. Honoria Wright is my grandmother."