Hermione Granger and the Year Hidden from Hogwarts
Harry Potter Fanfiction
Chapter 5
Chapter 5 - October 30th, 1985
Hermione stared at the innocent face of the cherubic ghost before her as realization dawned. Her parents and Ms. Walker hadn't spoken from the observation room, but she spotted the worried looks Dr. Hampton and Mr. Saxon shared from her peripherals.
Mr. Saxon jumped in his seat, his face showing alarm. "What? What is it?"
Hermione broke her gaze from the boy, realizing how wired the others might've been. "Sorry, nothing serious. It's just that I think he's speaking another language."
Mr. Saxon and Dr. Hampton exchanged another weighted look.
"Well," Mr. Saxon began. "I minored in linguistics and know a few. How about I walk you through a couple and see if—he? You said it's a 'he?'"
"Yes, a young boy, maybe four."
Another glance passed between them.
Hermione scowled. "That's getting really old."
Dr. Hampton laughed but tried to cover it up with a cough. "Sorry, we'll stop. Let's allow Charles to earn his keep. His proficiency at languages is one of the ways he—how did you put it—'beat out the competition?'"
Hermione fidgeted, avoiding eye contact.
"Okay, we'll start with…Spanish." Mr. Saxon said. "Hablas español?"
Hermione did, but the ghost only frowned, shook his head and rushed out in an increasing volume to match his frantic gestures. "Okay, okay, calm down," Hermione soothed.
"Not that one, huh?" Mr. Saxon surmised without needing to be told. "Try this. Sprechen Sie Deutsch?"
Hermione listened to the enunciations carefully, noting that the ghost had perked up somewhat, even if he still focused on her. "Sprecken zee doych?"
"Not bad."
Hermione repeated it, and the words garnered a visible reaction from the boy. "That's the one."
"German," Mr. Saxon said with weight, and she didn't have to turn around to know they'd already broken their promise not to exchange any more cryptic looks. "Ask him—"
"Sorry, but I'm not a messenger. German's a bit beyond my skills. Besides, he can hear you—at least to some degree. Ask him yes or no questions, and I'll tell you if he nods or shakes his head."
"Oh." Mr. Saxon blinked. "Of course. Well, uh, I guess we only really have one question, right?"
Dr. Hampton agreed. "How do we ask if he's Klaus Bauer?"
The ghost must've recognized his name because he went nuts, pointing at the doctor when before he seemed to have only vaguely heard Mr. Saxon's words. Was it the power of a name that made this communication stronger?
"No need to interpret, Mr. Saxon," Hermione cut him off. "I'm pretty sure that's Klaus."
They both turned to the box housing the powerful spirit. Interestingly enough, Klaus did as well, though not in the same way they did. His face carried trepidation and fear rather than curiosity.
Hermione put her hands on her hips. "You knew who he was."
"Not initially, but we had a hunch."
"You had a hunch," Hermione repeats in a deadpanned tone. "How naïve do you think I am?"
"You're six!" Mr. Saxon blurted. "Pretty darned naïve—umph."
"What my overexuberant colleague here is trying to say is that we wanted to collect all our evidence beforehand without breaking protocol," Dr. Hampton smoothed over. "Did you know that most self-proclaimed psychics are actually just really good mentalists with a high acumen with reading body language?"
Hermione's head tilted, her riotous curls springing and compressing on one side. "Well, I suppose that makes a certain sort of sense."
Dr. Hampton blinked. "It does?"
"Of course. Seasoned police officers that get 'hunches' are oftentimes just picking up details they can't back up with hard evidence. They call it a gut feeling, but really, it's their years of expertise working together with the immense processing power of our subconscious brains to draw correlations and patterns from body language or what have you."
Dr. Hampton scratched behind his ear. "Oh, good. I was worried I'd have to explain, but yeah, you did a much better job than I could've."
Hermione's shoulders rolled in a bit as she reined in her "precociousness." She glanced at the young boy in his ghostly form.
Dr. Hampton continued his defense of their secretiveness. "But, we had to dot all our I's and T's. We've had people in the past try pulling the two or even three boxes gambit."
That pulled Hermione from her brainstorming on how to communicate with the poor, lonely boy, because he was, so very lonely.
Mr. Saxon jumped in this time. "Yeah, they'll say it was two boxes, and if their first guess was wrong, they'd give some explanation as to why it was their second pick."
"Upper sixty percent odds instead of fifty," Hermione surmised.
Mr. Saxon huffed, shaking his head one more time. "Are you sure you're six?"
Hermione ignored his question. It sounded rhetorical anyway. "So, now that you know this boy is Klaus Bauer, do you mind explaining why he would be so nervous of the blinding nova star of that box? He keeps staring at it like it's going to explode and swallow him down. His form even shrinks smaller, like he's trying to hide."
"Probably because that's his father, Mr. Alderbert Bauer," Dr. Hampton stated, as if that was a full answer in and of itself.
Hermione frowned, especially when Klaus paled at the mention of the name, becoming see through, even with her ghost vision switched on. "Does Klaus not like that his father is dead?"
Dr. Hampton blinked, sharing a speechless glance with Mr. Saxon, and then an uncomfortable look toward the observation room. "Oh, well, uh, you see—"
Mum came on the line, her voice crackling through the speakers, and the two scientists couldn't look more relieved. "Remember how we had that long discussion about how not all adults are good, sweetheart?"
Hermione nodded.
"Well, the same goes for parents, too, Hermione. Parents are adults, so they fall under the same rule."
"Oh, so Mr. Bauer wasn't very nice to Klaus when they were alive," Hermione realized, her heart going out to the poor ghost.
"Exactly!" Dr. Hampton agreed, his voice exuberant with his relief at dodging the touchy subject.
Hermione decided not to take offense, even though she would've easily understood if he'd just explained the situation himself, with or without Mum reminding her of their safety conversation three years ago. But, some people just didn't know how to talk to kids.
Ms. Walker entered the room, trailed by her parents. "Dr. Hampton, is it safe to say that Hermione has passed the test with flying colors?"
Dr. Hampton snorted. "She scored so high on the test that we have to reconfigure the scales to account for such a high inclination of abil—"
Ms. Walker turned to her parents, interrupting Dr. Hampton's rambling answer. "Drs. Granger, congratulations. Welcome to MI5. How about we take you on that tour now, and then maybe later this week, your daughter can help the good scientists recalibrate their equipment to ensure no more mishaps like Klaus Bauer occur."
Hermione's heart panged as she glimpsed the lost look on the boy's face before her headache caused her to lose her grip on her worldly vision. "Wait, how'd you know?"
Ms. Walker raised a single brow. "Your eyes burn solid, magnesium white when you're using your otherworldly vision. Did you know?"
January 5th, 1986
"Hermione, we're here? Come on, we're going to be late," Dad called as he pulled into their assigned parking spot after passing through security.
She blinked, closing the German to English word to word dictionary she'd renewed yesterday for the fifth consecutive time. "Oh, I missed the drive."
Dad glanced at her, a teasing smile dancing on his lips. "Kiddo, you missed all of dinner, too. Your mom tried to ask you about school, but you only hummed and nodded in response to her open-ended questions."
Hermione's cheeks warmed as she shouldered her bag a little higher on her shoulders. Lately, the kindergarten teacher had been giving her second level maths to keep her entertained, and with Dr. Hampton's ability to fall off on a tangent while they reset various tests, she often had time to complete a problem or two of the upper-level material while waiting. "I missed it."
"Still trying to talk with your cute ghost boy?"
The man at the front desk grinned at the question and Hermione's subsequent shocked yell of "Da-ad!" as he handed them their nametags, well accustomed to the near-daily visits of the Grangers.
"Thank you, Martin. Looking good by the way. Getting in shape for the missus?"
"Richard, you know that if I told you, I'd have to kill you," Martin played along, leaning into the jokes about the company's clandestine nature that Dad enjoyed flinging about.
Dad slapped his nametag on his breast pocket, pointing finger guns back at the man. "Ah, don't say another word. Mum's the word."
And he proceeded to zip his lips.
Hermione's cheeks heated once more as she dragged him along at a brusque pace. Experience had taught her that no matter how fast she beelined, her father would get a one-liner in with almost all of the people they crossed paths with in the hallway. Most of them even bantered back depending on their personality.
Still, it kept the conversations brief. It was less embarrassing that way. He'd told a junior analyst the story behind his nickname for her when she'd made the mistake of veering off course for a quick trip to the loo.
Never again. Since that day, she'd mitigated the worst of the damage from her near-military precise lines they cut through the halls. And, she was in luck today. There wasn't anyone for him to chat with when the elevator doors opened up into the lobby to take them down to the labs.
"I never said he was cute, Dad," Hermione corrected, feeling relatively safe to have this conversation in the elevator. God knew she couldn't wait to correct his teasing when they reached the lower level.
Klaus would be there.
"Ah, but he must be cute for you to be going to all the trouble of learning German the last two months."
"Dad, please don't say anything when we get down there."
Dad's head canted to the side. "Would he be able to understand anything?"
"Dad!"
He smiled. "Of course. I wouldn't embarrass you in front of your ghost boyfriend."
The squeal she released sent Mr. Saxon jumping back in shock as he waited for them outside the elevator.
Her dad shifted his mischievous smile on the young intern. "Ah, Charlie, how are you today?"
Mr. Saxon's eyes bounced between them. "Fiiine."
"Don't mind Tootsie Pants. She's having boy troubles."
Mr. Saxon spluttered as he dogged their steps, clipboard tucked under his arm. "S-She's six!"
"So you keep saying, but that didn't stop her from dressing down your forty-year old expert authority when he tried to challenge her claims about that one faraday cage, did it? My little bean's an old soul."
He'd pulled her into his side and ruffled her massive bush of hair, and she wanted to sink into the ground.
She could feel the poof of static raising her heavy curls and knew without looking that she'd resemble a seeded dandelion.
Mr. Saxon chuckled. "I thought Berk was going to strangle her there for a second."
"He'd have had to go through my wife. She might seem all proper and polite, but she's a fierce spitfire when it comes to her baby cub."
"Well, yes, I can see…where are you going, Hermione?"
"I know this routine by now, Charles," Hermione called over her shoulder, ignoring his correction of "It's Charlie." "My dad likes to go through a lot of pleasantries, and Dr. Hampton could carry on a two-hour conversation with a wrong number."
"B-But…" he held up the clipboard, looking uncertain. "I have to go over the tests we're going to be performing today."
"Oh, let her have her fun, Charlie. It's young love," Dad teased, heading off in Dr. Hampton's direction with Mr. Saxon in tow.
Sure enough, soon the three were embroiled deep in conversation, and she took the time to switch over to her otherworldly vision, dialing in on the figure in the far corner of the room.
"Klaus," she called, rushing over. "Uh, hallo. Er, wie geht es dir?"
Klaus beamed at her, climbing to his feet. "I am goot, ah nein, nein. I am good, ja?"
She nodded quickly. "Yes, I mean, ja."
She wasn't sure why Klaus had lingered long after they'd consecrated his dad's cage, using ritual after ritual until Hermione could confirm that the powerful spirit had moved on.
But, she was glad that he had. He was good company, even if their broken attempts at each other's languages had been stilted at best. His wide smiles and laughing blue eyes spoke volumes that needed no translation.
They spoke a little more as Hermione shared the words she'd looked up on the ride here to talk about the toy she'd brought to share with him.
Before long, she was being called over, blinking out of her otherworldly vision and rushing to the trio of adults.
Her father clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "So, what's on the docket for today? Mind bending abilities? Telekinesis? Ooh, telepathy? Any big bad ghosts that need smiting? Are we going to see if Tootsie Pants can shoot laser beams from her eyes? Pew, pew, pew pew!"
"Ah, actually, we're fairly confident in your daughter's affinity with the dead. However, we thought we'd try to expand her horizons." Dr. Hampton blinked at Dad. "Honestly, laser beams, Richard?"
Her dad shrugged.
Mr. Saxon hefted the box of random trinkets he'd been holding. "We thought we'd try a little psychometry."
Dad blinked. "What's psychometry?"