Disclaimer: Nope.
Author's Note: Oh my goodness, guys. I can't apologize enough for not updating in so long, and I have a very good reason for it.
Because I'm blind, I use a Braille machine to write up these chapters. It syncs up to my phone, and I can then upload the chapters to this website. Unfortunately, several weeks ago, it started having major battery issues, and I had to send it out for repair. Since it's a specialized company and they also sell many other types of blindness equipment, it took several weeks for them to repair it before sending it back to me. Thankfully, they did a stupendous job fixing it, and it might as well be brand new now. I'm very grateful to them for what they did, and needless to say, I'm now back up and running again. I'm sorry for not being able to update for a while. I do have a Bluetooth keyboard as a backup, but my fingers aren't at all used to writing long chapters on it and whenever I did try to write something, my constant typos were endlessly frustrating. It was causing way more stress than I needed, and so, again, I apologize for having to wait until my Braille machine returned. I'm so relieved to be updating again.
Anyway, thank you so much for the fantastic reviews! As far as the Horcruxes are concerned, I find it pretty incredible, obviously in a bad way, that Voldemort was able to create one while he was still in exile and didn't have a body. Yes, he made Nagini into a Horcrux at the beginning of Goblet of Fire, using the murder of Bertha Jorkins to do so. Plus, he'd already created six Horcruxes before that, and his soul was already so unsteady that his sixth one was inadvertent. He has made all the Horcruxes he can - the locket, the cup, Nagini, the diary, the tiara, the ring, and Harry, although he obviously doesn't know Harry is one. I think he probably does know about only being able to make seven, and therefore, since he doesn't know about Harry, he thinks he can still make one more. All we can hope is that the one inside Harry is destroyed before he attempts to make another one and realizes something is amiss. I also believe that even when they are destroyed, he cannot replace them. I think that's also why he wanted to make the full number of Horcruxes that was possible, because he's arrogant enough to think that no one could possibly destroy all seven of them.
Anyway, I couldn't wait to write this chapter, and I'm so glad I finally get to do it! This one's been a long time coming. I've honestly never, ever understood the relationship between Hermione and her parents. It never made any sense to me, so this chapter is me trying to interpret all of it and at least attempt to make it comprehensible in some way. I still don't think it's great, but it's what my mind was able to piece together. One of the major themes of this story, after all, is parents and their children, and this has always been one of those things in JKR's novels that I just couldn't wrap my head around.
Please let me know what you think!
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Their office had once again been closed and locked up, and both dentists felt secure that they would return tomorrow and everything here was as it should be. Indeed, it was the end of another day.
Jean and Randy Granger got into their car and headed home for the evening. Although they both enjoyed their job, it was exhausting at times. They would often make fun of the expression, "it's like pulling teeth", because it certainly wasn't figurative in their case. Still, they wouldn't have quit their jobs for anything - their career certainly had its rewarding points as well.
Once they arrived home, the Grangers began to make dinner together. It was something that gave them an immeasurable amount of comfort during difficult times, and something they had always done. Neither of them believed that only one of them should do the cooking, and the different recipes they'd tried over the years only seemed to make their relationship grow stronger.
Plus, they needed this now more than ever, because times had been especially difficult for the Grangers lately - and this was for one reason, and one reason alone.
Their daughter, Hermione.
When Jean Granger had discovered she was pregnant, it wasn't something that had been planned. When the Grangers had gotten married, they'd discussed having children, but neither of them had planned for it to happen so soon. But, as the saying went, it only took one time, and neither of them were as careful as they thought they were being.
But it hadn't taken them long to get used to the idea, and the closer the day came, the more excited the couple became. Both of them were enormous fans of Shakespeare, so when they discussed baby names, they knew what they'd like to name the baby if she turned out to be a girl.
And so it was, that when Hermione Jean Granger took her first breath, Jean and Randy Granger couldn't have been happier. Neither of them failed to notice that there was something rather ... intensely unusual about her from the first moment they laid eyes on her, but they didn't think much of it. After all, didn't all parents think that about their newborns, especially if it was their first child?
But the feelings only intensified the more the years passed. Strange circumstances always seemed to happen around her, but they always tried to find alternate explanations for them. They were both very sensible people, and any talk of weird phenomena seemed ridiculous to them. It was just a coincidence that the book Hermione wanted simply flew off the shelf when she was in her "terrible two's" stage and throwing a tantrum. It didn't mean anything that her juice box spilled absolutely everywhere because she started screaming that she didn't like the taste of the juice. Those boxes were flimsy anyway and it was preposterous to think that Hermione had anything to do with it whatsoever. Jean and Randy Granger didn't believe in the supernatural.
But what they did believe was that their little girl would be a mover and a shaker. She was going to change the world. With her bright brown eyes, incredibly strong personality, and her bushy, untameable hair which was just like her mother's, Hermione made both her parents incredibly proud.
They worried about her, too, however, because as the years passed, one thing became all too clear. Many boys and girls her age spent time making friends, going over to their houses, and wanting to be with them as much as possible. Hermione, though - she was very, very different.
Hermione's love of books was absolutely extraordinary, and she had stunned both the Grangers with her intelligence. It took her no time at all to learn how to read, and books enthralled her. While their friends' children enjoyed playing with other toys, Hermione could always be found with a book. She absorbed information like a sponge, and she seemed to possess a photographic memory when it came to knowledge. It was amazing to watch.
But the Grangers worried, because this set her apart from her peers. Friends were hard to come by, because she became a target for bullies when she first started going to school. Jean Granger would never forget how her daughter dissolved into tears at the end of her first week at school, proclaiming that "everybody hates me". She didn't seem at all reassured by her parents' comforting words, and, unfortunately, it became a vicious cycle. The more she was teased, the more she buried herself in books. She was determined to prove herself, and it broke the Grangers' hearts as well as made them angry. Yes, children could be cruel, but their Hermione didn't deserve any of this. Just because those foul children weren't as smart as her ...
When they spoke with her teachers about it, they also noticed something strange. Some actually looked fearful when they spoke of her, and it was fear borne of confusion. One of them had actually come right out and said it - that there was something ... odd about their daughter. Apparently, a boy her age had made fun of Hermione's bushy, wild hair, and in the next moment, a clump of his own had fallen right off of his head and onto the floor. Both Grangers were strongly reminded of the incident with the juice box and the one with the flying book, but neither were willing to speak of such things in front of this teacher. Instead, they brushed the entire thing off as just another coincidence, and managed to convince the teacher of the same thing. But inside, they were thoroughly disconcerted by the entire thing.
Hermione, herself, barely said anything about these weird occurrences. There was only one moment of vulnerability when she dared to mention them, but all she said was that it was yet another thing which set her apart from the other children. But her eyes were hard and her lips were pursed when she spoke the words, and she delivered the statement in such a way that it only broke her parents' hearts further. She was convinced that nothing was going to change, and there was nothing she could do about it. If the other children didn't want to be her friend ... well, that was fine. She didn't need friends. She didn't need anyone. She only needed a nice, quiet corner and a large amount of books.
But then, everything changed. It changed the Grangers' perspective. It changed Hermione's circumstances. And it explained the unexplainable.
Hermione, their Hermione, was a witch. A real, honest-to-God witch. A witch who was a part of a world who had gone into deep hiding. It explained why there was this feeling of ... electricity that seemed to crackle around her, particularly when she was angry or upset. The incidents with the juice box, the flying book, and that boy's hair were not coincidences at all. It was their daughter's "accidental magic" that had been set off, and all the while, the Grangers had been none the wiser. They were what the magical world called "Muggles".
Shock. Pure and utter shock. Shock, awe, and ... fear. Neither Jean nor Randy Granger wanted to admit it, but upon learning of the world that their daughter inhabited, they couldn't help but feel fear as well as pride and excitement. Hermione had never felt like she belonged anywhere, and now, there was finally a reason why. Maybe, just maybe, their amazing, intelligent, powerful daughter could make friends and feel accepted amongst them.
But ... this was beyond anything they had expected, and they were afraid. It was something they would never admit to Hermione - not ever. They loved her beyond their own lives, and she had never given them any indication that she would hurt them. But ... this magic she possessed ... it scared them. She could do things they couldn't, and it scared them.
And ... they couldn't help but be very unhappy with the information they'd been presented with by Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of this magical school, Hogwarts, which their daughter had been invited to attend. They got the distinct impression that people like themselves were looked down upon just because they didn't possess any magical abilities. Either that, or they were condescended to, thought of as people that must be looked after and treated with kid gloves because they weren't high-and-mighty magic folk.
Jean Granger vividly remembered the days when she used to read Hermione bedtime stories of witches and wizards, and Minerva McGonagall was nothing like the witches in the storybooks. Still, both Grangers were rather disconcerted by the experience, and Jean had plenty of questions that hadn't been answered at the conclusion of her meeting with the woman. Still, when she turned herself into a tabby cat before Jean's very eyes, she suddenly imagined her daughter being able to do the same thing. It stirred many contradictory emotions in her and her husband.
She wanted to know more. She wanted to know more of the history that had led witches and wizards to go so much into hiding that children like Hermione weren't allowed to know about magic before they turned eleven years old. She wanted to know how absolutely no one had ever been able to break the Statute of Secrecy successfully. And ... surely, it wouldn't last? Were witches and wizards really foolish enough to think that one day, someone wouldn't let it slip and that there would be nothing anyone could do about it?
"You must not inform any of your friends or acquaintances of our world." Minerva McGonagall was very stern on this matter as she stared intently at the Grangers. "If the Ministry gets wind of it ... and have no doubts, they will ... the consequences will be very severe." As she went on to explain Obliviators and exactly what they would do to a Muggle who wasn't meant to know, Jean literally felt a chill crawl down her spine. In their hands, witches and wizards had the power of Gods, and they thought they had every right to play with the minds of people like her and her husband, and make them believe what they wanted.
Their first instinct was to tell Hermione that they wanted her to have nothing to do with that world. At all. It sounded fantastical at first, but beneath the surface, it sounded entirely strange and not something they wanted their daughter to get mixed up in. They wondered how many Muggle parents felt exactly the same way.
But ... Hermione had always been alone, and, though she never spoke the words, they knew she was lonely. She had never fit in, because she had always known there was something different about her. And now, she knew exactly what it was.
And ... Jean felt another chill trickle down her spine as she recalled Minerva's words. "I understand that you may be confused and disconcerted by what I have shared with you today. But ... you must know that Hogwarts will guide Miss Granger in a disciplined, controlled environment. If a witch or wizard does not learn to channel their magic, there may be ... incidents in the future that may pose a problem."
If it hadn't been this ominous phrase that had fully convinced them, it was the look on Hermione's face that had done it. Their little Hermione was a mover and a shaker, and they could already see her mind whirring, processing everything that she had been told.
There were things about the wizarding world that rubbed the Grangers entirely the wrong way, and it was obvious that Hermione was struggling to take it all in, as well. But they could also see the churning, yearning desperation in her, the resolve to make a difference. They saw her determination, the way electricity seemed to crackle around her. By denying her her place at Hogwarts, they could be hurting her deeply. Perhaps there were reasons why the magical world was the way it was that they truly didn't understand. They had a feeling that McGonagall had barely scratched the surface of the truth.
So, against their better judgement, they made a decision which they dearly hoped wouldn't cost themselves and Hermione everything - they allowed their daughter to embark on a true adventure. The smile that lit Hermione's face only strengthened the conclusions they'd come to. If they didn't allow her to go, they wouldn't be letting her be herself.
Late at night, however, Jean tossed and turned in bed, Randy doing the exact same thing beside her as they wondered how many other Muggle parents had had the exact same struggles. Did some just send their children to Hogwarts, delighted at what they could do without thinking of the further implications? Jean couldn't help but shudder at what some of the more religious families would make of this news. What, exactly, might they do to their children upon learning of the magical world?
Now, just over four years since they'd first watched her board the Hogwarts Express, they were having more and more regrets over their decision. Hermione had changed - she had changed irrevocably.
When she'd come home for Christmas during her first year, she had been bursting at the seams with information for her parents about her classes, her teachers, and the reading material. Hermione had been happy in a way they had never seen before. Maybe, just maybe, this wizarding world wasn't such a bad thing after all, although it was exceedingly difficult to always be telling their friends and colleagues that their daughter had been sent off to boarding school and yet not give them much information about the place. It had caused some extremely tense moments between Randy and his brother and sister-in-law, as they adored their niece Hermione and wanted to know everything about the school for gifted children that she'd apparently received a scholarship to. "Do magic folk not think of little things like rifts between family?" he'd said with a kind of bitter sarcasm that Jean had never heard in his voice before.
Still, to see their daughter so happy and full of life and vitality erased their doubts, if only for a moment. On a whim, Jean had asked, "Can you show us one of those Transfiguration spells? I'd love to see it."
Hermione's mouth turned down as she looked at her parents with an apologetic expression. "It's against the rules to do magic outside of school," she said with her normal Hermione seriousness that the Grangers recognized immediately. "I could be expelled." She spoke the last two syllables as though they were the worst kind of swearword.
"Oh," Randy murmured while Jean felt her heart drop into her stomach. They couldn't even see what she could do!
Hermione sighed, knowing how disappointed they were. "Students can do magic outside of school once they turn seventeen," she said.
That seemed so incredibly far away. What would Hermione be able to do by then? And how much magic would she be able to show them?
Despite their disappointment, they couldn't be angry with Hermione. After all, she was only following the rules, and it was obvious that she was finding her niche in the magical world. This was a very different Hermione from the one who went to school last year and simply went through the motions. This Hermione had more life in her brown eyes, and her hair seemed even more untameable than before.
It was Randy who broached the most important question. In a hesitant voice, obviously afraid of the answer, he asked, "Have you made any friends?"
In truth, the Grangers had been wondering this for a long time. Though Hermione did write them letters sometimes, they weren't very frequent. They tried not to let their feelings be hurt over it - Hermione was spreading her wings. She was finding her way in a new environment. It was normal that a child would rather do anything else than write to their crotchety, boring old parents while they were at boarding school - it didn't mean she loved them any less.
When the letters did come, they were all about schoolwork. She was getting high marks. She was learning brand new magic. The Hogwarts library was so amazing, and so fascinating. There was so much you could do with magic.
But was she still alone, or had she finally made friends? Were witches and wizards the same way as Muggles, making fun of and teasing someone who was a studyholic?
Hermione's eyes brightened, and the smile on her face made something in Jean's stomach loosen, and she and Randy listened as Hermione burst into a long, detailed speech about two boys who had befriended her. Harry was rather reckless and could be hot-headed at times, and Ron was infuriating, exasperating, and irritating. But there was this note of deep affection in Hermione's voice when she spoke of them, and neither Jean nor Randy had ever heard their daughter sound as ... alive ... as she did right then.
But as the holidays went on, they got the very distinct impression that there were things their daughter was keeping from them. She gave very little detail on how she, Ron, and Harry had become friends in the first place. Why was she being secretive over something so simple? They hadn't asked her something that enormous, had they? It was downright strange.
They got the feeling that she was downright avoiding them and their questions when she began to spend more time in her room. When her aunt, uncle, and cousins came on Christmas Day, the relief in Hermione's eyes was palpable. She wasn't allowed to talk about the magical world in front of them, and therefore, neither Jean nor Randy could continue their questioning while they were entertaining family. I'm off the hook. They could almost feel the thought that went through Hermione's head.
Sending her back to Hogwarts in the new year was very difficult for them, but they did it. And it was at the end of the school year when they truly knew something was amiss.
There was something different about their daughter when she climbed off the Hogwarts Express. She emerged with two boys, who were obviously the aforementioned Ron and Harry. Both Grangers could see immediately how close the three of them had become, but something felt ... odd about the way they communicated. Hermione's eyes were different, too.
"I reckon you're reading too much into this, Jeanie," Randy said as they lay in bed that night, but it was clear that he was not only saying this to her - he was saying it to himself as well.
"I don't think so, Randy," Jean said, all the while knowing it was an unnecessary statement. "Our daughter is hiding something."
Hermione's parents felt truly out of their depth that summer. Hermione acted like everything was normal, and that her first year at a magical school had gone off without a hitch. But there was something ... underlying in every single one of her movements. She had always been known for spending a lot of time in her room, figuratively buried beneath an endless supply of books, but this year took the cake. It was a constant battle of wills between Hermione and the Grangers when it came to discussing anything about her year at Hogwarts besides the teachers and schoolwork. In the end, there was nothing else for her parents to do but give up.
After all, Hermione was insistent on going to this Diagon Alley place again to buy school supplies for the upcoming year, and to meet up with Ron and Harry, and she had seemed happy that the Grangers were coming along. They vowed to get answers to their many questions while there.
Well, that didn't work out well. They left Diagon Alley with more questions than answers, feeling more disconcerted than ever. They were treated to watching a brawl in a bookshop between two fully-grown adults. They didn't understand what the fight was about, but they got a very bad vibe from the blond-haired man with the ugly sneer that seemed to be frozen on his visage. The other man involved in the fight, the man they knew to be Ron's father, had subjected them to a barrage of endless questions that just wouldn't stop.
The excitement that radiated from him was obvious. "How does a toaster work? What about a fellytone? It's amazing, the things you can do without magic! How do you do it?"
The man meant well, and it couldn't be more plain that he cared for his children and his wife deeply. But if the Grangers were asked one more question about how they performed everyday tasks without magic, they might just scream.
For the first time that they could remember, they got into a blazing argument with their daughter. "We don't want you going back to that school." Randy's voice had been uncompromising. "We know you're hiding things from us, and we don't feel that you're safe there."
"No, Dad. I'm not leaving Hogwarts." The entire kitchen seemed to crackle around the three people seated at the table. Hermione held her chin high, her resolve strong. "I'll be fine there. That man you saw attack Ron's dad ... his name's Lucius Malfoy. His son, Draco, is just as awful as he is. But are you really going to sit here and paint all magical people with that brush?"
"It's not very civilized, Hermione." Jean shook her head. "It certainly hasn't endeared us to the magical world, seeing two grown people brawling like children out in public like that."
Hermione defiantly shook her own head. "Look," she said in a placating tone, "I know there's ... a lot of things about the wizarding world that Muggles don't ..."
Jean felt her heart plummet at her own daughter using that word to describe them. It had not been said with any malice or derision, and she hadn't meant to sound prejudiced at all. But there was something extremely sad about this moment nevertheless.
Within one year of attending Hogwarts, Hermione had drifted so far away from them. They were in two different worlds now, and instead of Hermione referring to the Grangers as her parents, she had called them "Muggles". Just "Muggles".
They knew Hermione didn't think they were lesser beings for not having magic. She was looking at them with a pleading expression, begging them to understand her point of view. She didn't want them to ban her from going back to the place she had finally found a sense of belonging.
Jean remembered how some of her friends had talked about their teenage children when they went into their "I know better than you, you're just silly adults who don't understand my life" phase. One of them had said how hurtful it was when their own child looked at them like that, but one of the others had just laughed. "Don't worry about it, Betsy," she had said. "I said horrible things like that to my parents when I was younger. We laugh about them now. All teenagers go through that stage when they think they know better than their parents. Therefore, I learned to expect my own child to do that to me."
Jean thought with heartbreak that this experience was way more complicated than a normal teenage spat about spending too much money clothes shopping or being grounded because you stayed out too late. This involved something that Jean would have never imagined in her wildest dreams.
What ensued in the following conversation included shouting, pleading and, eventually, tears ... and it was the tears that finally softened the Grangers. Hermione was crying like her heart was breaking, apologizing profusely to them for referring to them as "Muggles" and swearing not to have meant anything by it. Jean knew the apology was sincere, and she took Hermione into her arms.
All summer, she'd tried not to show it, but Jean knew her little girl was vulnerable. Something had happened in the last year that she just wasn't talking about, but whatever it was had affected her deeply. Still, she was so determined to go back to Hogwarts that she'd pleaded her case for minutes on end.
Hermione swallowed convulsively as she tried to regain control of her emotions. "I promise I'll write to you more this year," she said, and once again, Jean could hear the sincerity in her voice. "I'm really, really sorry that there's so much about the wizarding world that I can't show you, but I don't need you to worry about me. I have Ron and Harry - we look after each other. I'll be fine, I promise."
Now, looking back, it had been years since Hermione had made that promise. And it was one that she'd only kept for a little while, until March of her second year. For months, Jean and Randy had not heard from their daughter. At all. Not one owl. Not one.
And when she'd come off the Hogwarts Express at the end of her second year, there was no other way to describe the way she looked than ... haunted. "I'm so sorry I couldn't write to you for so long," she said in a rush, the desperation in her voice breaking Jean's heart. "There was this ... terrible flu that was going around Hogwarts. I was ill in bed for ages, and I couldn't send an owl."
Jean and Randy Granger wanted to believe every word that came out of Hermione's mouth. Their daughter, after all, was a terrible liar. She always gave herself away - Jean and Randy knew that very well, even when she was a child and she'd been caught taking treats from the cupboard when she wasn't supposed to.
And it was indeed true that she looked like she was recovering from a horrible illness. But she also looked ... haunted and scared, and why should a flu do that, unless it had almost ...
But she'd denied it. She denied that her life had been in danger, but there was a look in her eyes that suggested otherwise. But no matter what her parents asked her, Hermione wouldn't spill. Instead, she babbled about how reckless but well-meaning Harry was and how absolutely exasperating Ron was.
Jean felt something stir in her whenever Ronald Weasley was mentioned, and there was something very familiar in her manner whenever she spoke of him, a certain something in her voice that reminded her of sitting at coffee shops with her friends while they endlessly questioned her about Randy. "Ooooh, does someone have a crush?" She could vividly remember the titters of laughter, and the denials that flew out of her mouth which she knew were all lies.
But Hermione was only thirteen years old, and how could Jean think about a normal milestone like teenage romance when her daughter walked around with the look of someone who was much older than thirteen? In the two years Hermione had attended Hogwarts, she'd grown so much more mature. Yes, that was meant to happen, but not at the level it had ... surely? Jean didn't look pale and drawn after final exams, did she? And she'd had the flu before, as well, and she was sure she had recovered much quicker than Hermione was.
But neither Jean nor Randy knew what to do. Hermione would grow short-tempered and withdrawn whenever they questioned her, or, worse, she would change the subject and start exclaiming about the different books she was reading and the magic she was studying. It was a tactic to distract her parents, but ... from what?
They made a decision that they had to take matters into their own hands. When Hermione asked whether she could stay with Ron's family so that they could go into Diagon Alley the day before school started, they were loathe to agree, but they did. They had decided that the moment she left, they were going to find out more about what was going on in the magical world, whether Hermione liked it or not.
So, once they'd dropped her off in London and Hermione kissed them goodbye, offering them many assurances that she was perfectly capable of entering the Leaky Cauldron by herself, they headed back to their much-too-empty house, retrieved a piece of paper, and wrote to the Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. They told him in no uncertain terms that they wanted answers to their questions, and they wanted them promptly.
Obviously, they didn't own an owl, but Hermione had told them before the start of her first year that she'd read that witches and wizards secretly worked in post offices around the country. Therefore, all Jean and Randy could hope for was that the missive would find its way to Hogwarts.
Several days later, they got their wish. On a rather dull, overcast Saturday at noon, the Grangers were sitting in the dining room eating their lunch when their doorbell rang. When Randy went to answer it, a man with a bushy beard, twinkling blue eyes, and half-moon glasses stood at the threshold. He was wearing an extravagant robe with moons and stars adorning it, and he gave off a calm, reassuring manner as he made his introductions.
"My name is Albus Dumbledore," he stated, smiling warmly at Hermione's parents. "I received your letter."
At first, both parents had felt extremely grateful. School was now in session, and he had obviously left the campus to see them. He must consider them important enough to take time away from the castle.
But as the meeting progressed, they grew a lot more disconcerted as he began to divulge information that sent a thrill of fear into their hearts.
"We are exceedingly proud to have your daughter in our school," Dumbledore had stated as he offered lemon drops to the couple. Neither of them ate candy much, as they were firm believers in healthy diets, and as dentists, they knew very well that eating lots of candy was synonymous with lots of cavities. But they broke the rule, just this once, as Dumbledore was smiling so gently at them, and he was finally going to put their fears to rest ... wasn't he?
His statement made the Grangers beam with pride, and they momentarily forgot any aggravation and frustration they'd felt towards Hermione that summer. It was true that her work ethic was phenomenal, and her devotion to her studies outmatched even that of her parents, who had always prided themselves on being exceedingly hard workers.
"Before I tell you this, I would like to reassure you that everything is okay now, and there is no need for worry."
That statement, however, caused a feeling of great unease, completely the opposite result of what Dumbledore was aiming for. But how could he make a statement like that and not think they'd worry?
"There was someone at Hogwarts who was causing problems last year," Dumbledore went on, his voice quiet and measured. "Let me put this in the simplest terms I can. There are some people in the magical world that do not believe Hermione belongs there."
Jean felt herself tense up. It was a horrible thing to hear, but somehow, it wasn't that surprising. She remembered the constantly haunted expression she'd seen Hermione walking around with that summer, and ...
"What did they do?" Randy's voice was louder than his normal tone, and it was more high-pitched, which clearly showed his distress. He looked Dumbledore directly in the eye. "Hermione didn't have the flu this spring, did she?" he demanded. "Someone hurt her, and that's why she couldn't write to us for months."
"No," Dumbledore said quietly. "She didn't have the flu."
"So you're telling us that someone attacked our daughter, and no one thought to inform us?" Jean felt her ire rising, anger leaping up like an inferno. "What, is it because we're Muggles? Is that why we don't have the right to know?"
It was obvious that Dumbledore hadn't expected such a strong reaction. There was a tiny flicker of surprise in his eyes before he spoke again. "No, my dear. I assure you, it is not because you are Muggles." His voice was placating, but it didn't do anything to soothe the Grangers. "We knew that Hermione was going to be okay. She was unconscious for quite a while, but a cure was being prepared the entire time."
Jean felt her heart plummet, and Randy rose to his feet, absolutely furious. "UNCONSCIOUS?" he roared, spit flying from his mouth. "Our Hermione was UNCONSCIOUS?"
No wonder she didn't tell us, Jean thought, instantly feeling terrible for how she had treated her little girl the entire summer. "Who did it?" Unlike Randy's, her voice was soft, but it sounded even more dangerous.
"As a matter of fact, Hermione's incredible penchant for research allowed us to solve that dilemma," Dumbledore said, his kindness no longer having any sway over the Grangers. "Because of her, the perpetrator was dealt with. He will no longer hurt anyone at Hogwarts. You do not need to concern yourself with them."
There was a finality in Dumbledore's tone that suggested that he would not discuss this issue any further. But there was so much more that the Grangers wanted to know. What was this person's name? Exactly what had they done to Hermione? What had Hermione done to help track them down? And why, oh why, didn't the teachers solve this problem? Why had Hermione been the one to do it?
"That's all well and good," Jean spat bitterly. "So the perpetrator's been dealt with. But if there's one of them, there's got to be more."
Dumbledore suddenly looked incredibly sad. "Obviously, Hermione has had a difficult time coping with all of this," he said gently. "Therefore, you must not question her about it. I do not think she wanted you to know."
Jean couldn't help the niggling suspicion she suddenly felt. Was she told not to question Hermione because of her trauma, or was it more because Dumbledore, too, was hiding things from her?
"Well, we're disgusted." Randy was straight and to the point. Staring the Headmaster down again, he stated clearly, "I want my daughter out of that school."
Jean nodded. "I don't care whether you thought she'd be okay or not," she snarled angrily. "We are her parents, and in any other school, a parent would be told if their child was unconscious because someone had attacked her for being who she is. Tell me ... was she attacked because we're Muggles?"
Dumbledore still looked very saddened by all of this, but Jean couldn't find it in herself to care how he was feeling. "I'm afraid so. Much like the Muggle world, some wizards have prejudices which have been around for a very, very long time," he said quietly.
When he said nothing else, Jean hissed, "Did you not hear my husband? We want Hermione away from all of this."
Dumbledore looked at the Grangers very meaningfully. "I understand your pain, and your fear," he said kindly, and there was genuine warmth behind his blue eyes. "But if you truly wish for Hermione to leave the wizarding world, you're not allowing her to experience who she truly is. If her magical skills are not truly honed, the results would not be to her, or your, benefit. She is only in her third year of magical education, and ..."
Randy glowered at the old man. "I think her safety is worth more to us than any magical education," he seethed.
Dumbledore went on, his expression earnest. "We, the Hogwarts staff, made enormous mistakes last year," he admitted. "We were not watching closely enough, and it caused a lot of damage. I give you my solemn word that such a thing will not happen again."
"How can we trust your word?" Jean asked with pure desperation in her voice, the fear for her little girl pumping through her veins. "How can we trust anything you say?"
It took much persuasion, but after several minutes, the Grangers reluctantly agreed to allow Hermione to stay at Hogwarts. But the helplessness they felt was all-consuming as Dumbledore walked out of their front door and went on his way, obviously going back to that Godforsaken school.
After all, the Grangers were only Muggles. What the hell could they do against folk who waved wands, turned teacups into rats, and cast spells on people like them to make them forget their world existed?
They were scared. They were terrified. They got the distinct impression that they were losing their daughter - and it might not just be emotionally, either.
How many other Muggle parents felt the same way? How many of them tossed and turned in bed at night, either complete insomniacs or suffering nightmares of their child alone and afraid, lying in a bed because a monster had attacked them?
They'd tried to ask the Headmaster more questions about the horrible situation in the spring, but Dumbledore insisted that everything was perfectly fine and that he needed to get back to the school. There must be a reason why he wasn't telling them more, and the Grangers didn't like it at all.
Now, two years later, Jean and Randy were once again sitting at their kitchen table after making another meal together, and they felt just as helpless as they had then. No - scratch that. They felt even more so, and decades older to boot.
Their fears were coming true, at least on the emotional side of things. Jean and Randy Granger were losing their daughter. They didn't know her anymore. The daughter who had once smiled so brightly when they read her bedtime stories was gone, replaced by someone who barely wanted to spend time with them at all. She was more like a stranger now, or a relative who would only stay for a few weeks and then go away again. After all, over the past two summers, they'd barely seen her.
They tried to ask questions. They outright demanded that she tell them what was going on at school. They confronted her about the "flu" which she'd lied about.
And all of it had ended in nothing but reassurances that everything was fine. She was happy at Hogwarts, she had friends who cared about her, and she was excelling in her studies.
But what hurt Jean and Randy the most was her constant refrain of, "You just wouldn't understand," when they asked her why she was so adamant about staying in the magical world when it was obvious it wasn't all that it was cracked up to be.
It strained their relationship so much that it was no wonder that Hermione now jumped at the chance to be away from the stifling household, where tension was always thick in the air. She would much rather spend time with the Weasleys, no matter how much she complained about how simply annoying, exasperating, and infuriating Ron was. She could handle him. She could not, obviously, handle her parents.
And it hurt more than anything ever had before. Jean and Randy Granger had considered so many possibilities when it came to having Hermione in their lives ... but they had never foreseen this.
Jean and Randy were just about to tuck into their dinner when the doorbell rang. A sudden feeling of deja vu gripped Jean as she put down her fork, stood up, and walked to the front door.
An image of Hermione arose in Jean's mind from three months ago. This Hermione had dark circles under her eyes as she hugged Ron goodbye with a kind of desperation that was frightening for Jean to watch, because it shouldn't manifest in such a young person. Ron had hugged her back just as fiercely, and Harry?
Harry hadn't been on the train at all, and Hermione refused to talk about it. When the Grangers had asked, Hermione had blurted something about how he wasn't well and how she was so scared for him. But any further questions resulted in outright hostility from Hermione, who proceeded to lock herself in her room with an armload of books.
Jean didn't know how she'd known it, but Harry wasn't ill. After all, hadn't Hermione used the flu when she didn't want to tell her parents the truth? Something had happened to Harry, and Hermione wasn't talking.
At that moment, Jean would have given anything to be able to wield a wand. Because right then and there, she would have forced her daughter to stop lying to her, and to tell her what was really going on.
And, only a few weeks later, Hermione went right back to Ron's house. She'd hugged the Grangers before she left, and Jean didn't like the way she held onto her, as if for dear life.
"I'm sorry," she had whispered. "I'm ... so sorry. Please be careful. Please, please be careful."
Before the Grangers could ask her what on Earth she meant, she'd disappeared through the fireplace. She had told her parents that Ron's dad had apparently connected their house to something called the Floo network, and she'd apparently bought this strange "Floo powder" from Hogsmeade several months before, so that she and Ron could communicate during the summer. The Grangers would have found it absolutely fascinating if they weren't terrified out of their minds.
All these thoughts played on a continuous loop through her consciousness as she opened the door to find someone unfamiliar on the other side. Maybe she was mistaken - maybe this had nothing to do with Hermione at all.
This person wasn't wearing robes. In fact, this person looked just as ordinary as the Grangers were, but she was still unfamiliar. If she was trying to sell something, then the Grangers definitely weren't interested.
"Hello," Jean said, knowing that she had to be polite. "What can I do for you?"
"Are you Jean Granger?" the black-haired woman asked.
"Yes," Jean replied. "What can I do for you?" she asked again.
"My name is Ms. Harrison, and I am here to speak to you and your husband regarding your daughter."
"Come in." Within a fraction of a second, Jean was letting the woman into her home. Fear pounded through her veins as she instantly demanded, "What's happened? Is Hermione okay?"
The woman's face softened. "Nothing is wrong with your daughter. She is fine."
She said it in such a way that it allowed immense relief to flow through Jean.
Introductions were made, and Randy, too, was relieved that Hermione appeared to be okay. Still, they wondered what she had come for.
The Grangers completely forgot that their dinner was on the table. No doubt it would grow cold, but they certainly didn't care about that right now as they and their guest took seats in the living room. Jean offered Ms. Harrison a cup of tea, but she declined.
"Now," the young woman said as she surveyed the Grangers. "I am Ms. Isabelle Harrison, and I come from the British Ministry of Magic."
"The wizarding government?" asked Randy, recalling what Hermione had told him and Jean about her world.
"Yes, exactly." Ms. Harrison smiled. "I have been sent to inform you about something that will be happening at Hogwarts in three weeks' time."
Jean felt her heart pick up speed. Through all these years of Hermione's attendance at the magical school, no one had ever visited them without prompting.
At the looks Jean and Randy were giving her, Ms. Harrison continued. "Several of us in the Ministry, and the school governors, believe that numerous mistakes have been made in regards to the Muggle world," she explained. "There are many misconnceptions and myths about witches and wizards that must be dispelled. I have always been one of those that believed that a better understanding leads to a much better future."
The words came out before Jean could stop them. "Are you Muggle-born?" she blurted, immediately embarrassed at her own audacity.
Ms. Harrison took no offense, however, and there was sadness behind her eyes as she spoke. "Yes." She looked at them meaningfully. "There is a gulf between the wizarding world and the Muggle world, and over the years, there has barely been any progress made in bridging the divide." She looked at them with such a deep level of understanding that it made Jean's heart ache.
"There's ... bad things going on, aren't there?" Randy's voice was a whisper. "There's something happening right now that we don't know about."
"Hermione told us to be careful when she left us this summer." Jean's voice was very quiet, too. "She's never told us that before."
The sadness that passed over Ms. Harrison's face was the same kind of emotion that had been in Dumbledore's eyes two years ago, Jean realized with a burst of fear. "Is Hermione safe?" She looked at Ms. Harrison desperately. "Please tell me that Hermione is safe."
"Right now, she is probably in the safest place that it is possible to be," Ms. Harrison said softly. "Last year, I would not have said that, nor would I the year before. But there have been some big changes to Hogwarts this year, and the school is all the better for it."
It was like being vindicated, but in the worst way possible. It was their worst fears coming true - Hogwarts had not been safe, even after the disgusting attack that Hermione had suffered in the spring of her second year.
"And we'd trust you, why?" Jean once again felt deja vu as Randy glared at Ms. Harrison.
"Because the past mistakes have been unforgivable, and they are being rectified as we speak." Ms. Harrison did not falter.
That was all she said, but that statement seemed to hold an enormous amount of meaning.
There were a few seconds of silence before Ms. Harrison continued. "There is much that you do not know, and as I said, several of us believe this to be wrong. All nonmagical people who have loved ones entangled in the wizarding world have the right to know the truth."
"What? What's the truth?" Jean felt a cold feeling envelop her soul.
Ms. Harrison swallowed, and looked the Granger parents in the eyes. "Our world is at war," she said simply.
It was as if everything suddenly came together. Jean remembered the way Hermione had hugged Ron. She remembered the way parents seemed to cling onto their children when they got off the train. The atmosphere at King's Cross had been so much more subdued than in previous years. There was something very, very off about all of it.
Jean and Randy listened, transfixed with horror as Ms. Harrison told them everything - the outright hatred and bigotry towards Muggles, Muggle-borns, half-bloods, and the loathing for purebloods who would not stand for Voldemort's sick ideology. She explained exactly what Hermione had been through in her second year and why, exactly, she had been unconscious. Two years ago, Ms. Harrison had been in her seventh and final year at Hogwarts, and had experienced her own fears as she was told not to walk the halls alone. She explained about who exactly Harry Potter was and why he was so famous in the wizarding world.
It was so big. It was too big. It was enormous. And the entire time, Hermione had been embroiled in the entire thing, keeping her parents completely in the dark.
But how could Jean blame her? Wouldn't she have done exactly the same thing if she was in Hermione's shoes and she was suddenly involved in something that went beyond her own life?
"You just wouldn't understand." She remembered Hermione's constant refrain. She'd have said that to her parents too, wouldn't she?
Hermione was idealistic - she always had been. Hermione was a mover and a shaker - hadn't Jean always said so? Hermione was going to change the world.
She and Randy wanted nothing more than to storm onto Hogwarts' grounds, grab their daughter, and whisk her away. They wanted to keep her safe. They wanted her to stay away from Harry bloody Potter and all the baggage that went with him. She was their damn daughter.
But they knew Hermione. Hermione would fight tooth and nail to stay in the magical world. If there was one thing that described her daughter to a tee, it was that Hermione was loyal to those she loved, and fiercely so. There was nothing she wouldn't do for them.
There was another thing that Jean knew very well about her daughter, even though Hermione tried exceedingly hard to hide this from her. Even though she always went on and on about not breaking rules, she was willing to go against absolutely everything she believed if she thought she was doing the right thing.
And Jean was scared. She knew Hermione loved her and Randy. She knew it with every beat of her heart, that her daughter would never intentionally hurt her.
But Hermione also possessed powers that she and Randy weren't capable of fully understanding. And what lengths would Hermione be willing to go to if she knew her parents were planning to whisk her away? She remembered how Hermione had reacted the summer before her second year, after that disastrous day in Diagon Alley, and shuddered.
Ms. Harrison's voice sounded very far away now. "Honestly, your daughter is safer at Hogwarts than she would be if she were here, or even if you traveled somewhere else."
"Because she's a target." Randy's voice was rough with emotion. "Because she's Harry's best friend, and we're her Muggle parents. And those monsters would do anything to find her."
Ms. Harrison nodded, looking stricken that she had to agree with such a thing. "I know that it is going against each and every one of your instincts to leave Hermione at Hogwarts. But she truly is safer there."
Another horrible moment of silence fell over the room. Eventually, Jean asked, "So what's going on at Hogwarts in three weeks?"
"For the first time in British history, Hogwarts will be holding parent-teacher conferences," Ms. Harrison explained. "And parents of Muggle-borns can attend."
It was at that moment that the Grangers knew their world was truly going to change forever.