Disclaimer: Nope.
Author's Note: Oh my goodness, thank you all SO MUCH for the absolutely incredible reviews for the last chapter! I'm so, so glad it went over so well, and all your comments were so inspiring.
Wow, that's such an incredible compliment. One of my best chapters to date! Oh my goodness, I'm so thrilled! I'm really glad that the interactions between Harry, Rebecca, and Matthew seemed so natural - I love writing about those characters. And the part with Jeff - yes, I wanted to show him as more than just an angry, grieving young man - I wanted him to be more complicated, and I'm so glad I succeeded. And I'm really pleased you enjoyed the part with Cho as well. Harry's extreme, disgusting lack of empathy in canon always really, really bothered me, and I wanted to show that his summer with Sirius really helped him to heal and to become so much better. I honestly wondered if that summer of isolation and loneliness changed him for the worse in canon - "human hosepipe" comes to mind. Oh. My. God. He had absolutely no empathy for what Cho was going through, or any of the Hufflepuffs, for that matter.
Yes, everyone makes mistakes, and I wanted to show that even someone like Jeff, who comes off as pretty darn awful at first, can admit that he's wrong. Even the most stubborn of people can do that, and Harry brought that out of Jeff.
Wow, another spin-off! I'm stunned! Thank you so, so much, and I certainly don't mind that it might take a while. I just couldn't be more gobsmacked that you continue to write them - it's amazing!
Okay, here's the next chapter, in which Hermione's parents play a starring role. I hope you enjoy it.
Some of the thoughts Hermione's father has are based off my own experiences as a blind person. I compare the way some people, chiefly Arthur Weasley, react to Muggles to the way some people react to my blindness. They mean well, so I can't honestly be angry with them. But I've had so many people ask me how I perform normal routines just because I don't have sight, and they exclaim in pure rapture and amazement about how it can be possible to partake in those routines. And in some instances, I've had people say to me that they're "praying for me" because my life must be so terrible. I had one person even ask me how I even get up in the morning, because I must hate my life so much.
Needless to say, I was rather shocked, but I chose to put some levity into the situation. "Well," I quipped, "this is what I do. When my alarm goes off, I yawn. I stretch. I roll over and turn it off, then I sit up ..." Etc, etc, etc.
In other words, I do not have a horrible life. At all. In fact, I am truly blessed to have a wonderful life. I have amazingly supportive parents, am married to the love of my life (who's also blind,) have other incredibly fantastic family members, and live in a beautiful home. Just because I don't have sight doesn't mean everything is awful.
And so, this is my way of portraying my own experiences. When I first read about Arthur Weasley and how he reacted to the Grangers upon meeting them in book 2, something about it seemed ... uncannily familiar. Hermione's parents may not have magic, but their lives are just as plentiful as those in the wizarding world. I can't see with my eyes, but my world is just as rich and fulfilling as those who have sight.
Okay, here is the chapter!
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Randy Granger couldn't help but feel stunned and awed as he gazed upon Hogwarts Castle. Beside him, his wife's eyes were so wide that under any other circumstance, he might have laughed. She looked almost ... childlike in that moment, and he understood exactly how she felt.
When they had consented to having a charm placed on them by a Ministry official that would let them see Hogwarts in its true form, it was like a whole world had opened up to them. It was like something out of a fairy tale, and even the fairy tales they had been told as children couldn't do justice to the pure wonder that stretched out before them.
And this ... this was their daughter's world.
And there were so many people. As Hermione Granger's parents walked into the entrance hall, it stunned them further to see how packed it was. There were students, other parents, Ministry officials - God, it was incredible. No wonder Hermione loves it here, was Randy's first thought.
They looked for a head of bushy, wild hair amongst the crowd. At first, they couldn't see her - there were so many people in the crowd that they had no idea how they'd even find her. How were any of the parents supposed to find their children in a swarm like this?
But then, Randy saw her. "She's over there," he told his wife, pointing. Jean looked in the direction he had indicated, and the next thing they knew, they were running towards her.
She was walking with who the Grangers knew to be Ronald Weasley and his sister, Ginny. At once, Randy felt his heart jolt - she looked so completely natural walking with them. It reminded him so much of when he'd seen them walking together in Diagon Alley the summer before her second year. Harry wasn't with them, however, and this was what threw him back to reality.
Harry. The war. Voldemort. Suddenly, this castle didn't seem so awe-inspiring. The beautiful atmosphere of the school felt like a disguise - it was hiding something brutal that was going on outside its walls, and his daughter was more involved than he could have ever imagined. Ms. Harrison's words came back to him, and it was all he could do not to shudder.
But Hermione was here now, her brown eyes widening as she spotted her parents. He and Jean made their way through the crowd, finally arriving at her side. Jean held her arms out to her, and Hermione hugged her back, but Randy could see the hesitation there, the worry.
"Hello, Hermione," Jean said, attempting to not let any of her own feelings come into her voice - Randy knew she only wanted to sound excited at finally having the chance to be here. "It is so good to see you. This ... this castle is amazing."
"It's magical," Randy added, knowing he probably sounded ridiculous as he, too, hugged his little girl. "We couldn't believe it when that charm was put on us."
Hermione smiled at them. "I'm so glad you could be here," she said, but there was something in her voice that suggested otherwise.
"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Granger," Ron said politely as he shook both of their hands. When his eyes fell on Hermione again, Randy's instincts began to go wild.
When Hermione had been little, there was a part of Randy that wished she could stay a little girl forever. He wanted to shield her, to protect her from what growing up would mean. It would mean puberty, and uncertainty, and hormones, and big emotions, and stress. And it would also mean that, inevitably, she would explore her own sexuality, and seek out a partner. He'd often heard the saying that fathers didn't like it when their teenage daughters fell in love for the first time.
And when the time had come and Hermione had begun to grow up, her constant mentions of Ronald Weasley and what it might mean didn't escape Randy. One night as they'd lain in bed, Jean had said the boy's name with a knowing expression on her face. Randy wasn't blind - though Hermione often spoke of Ron with exasperation, there was this ... fondness in her voice that couldn't be mistaken. He knew that if he asked Hermione about it, she'd deny it to kingdom come - she'd either laugh, calling Randy ridiculous, or she'd get a scornful look on her face. Honestly, Hermione was still so young, and Randy didn't think she'd even realized her feelings herself.
And now, it was a whole lot more complicated than Randy being wary of his little girl having a boyfriend. There was so much more to the situation now, and he felt sick. If only Hermione dating Ron was all he had to deal with.
"Hello, Ron," Randy said, scrutinizing the young man. He saw the nervousness in his eyes. Good, his instincts screamed. You should be nervous around me.
Jean and Randy spoke to Hermione, Ron, and Ginny for a while, but it was all small talk. Jean explained how they'd gotten here, and how they had consented to the charm being put on them that allowed them to see Hogwarts. "It's apparently supposed to last for eight hours," Randy explained. "After that, Hogwarts will begin to look like a ruin again, unless it's recast."
"The meetings should be over by then, though," Randy added. "So we were told we shouldn't worry about that."
Hermione smiled. "Dinner should be coming up soon, and you'll get to meet Harry again as well," she explained. "He's feeling a lot better, and his guardian is bringing him. He's coming back here full-time in January."
The Grangers nodded, though both of them knew that Harry had never been ill. Hermione had no clue that they had been informed by Ms. Harrison about the war, but they weren't going to confront her about it here in the entrance hall.
Several minutes later, the Grangers received an enormous shock to their system. When Harry walked into the entrance hall and found Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and the Grangers in the crowd, both parents recognized the man who was with him.
After all, how could they not? This man's deranged face had been all over the news. His name was Sirius Black, and he had been convicted of causing a gas explosion that had killed thirteen people back in 1981. At the time, the Grangers had found it exceedingly strange that the newscasters had never revealed which prison the man had escaped from. Several months ago, there had been another newscast that had informed everyone that there had been new evidence in the case, and Sirius had been proclaimed innocent.
Now, the Grangers understood. Sirius was a wizard, and he had been locked up in a wizard prison. And it probably hadn't been a gas explosion that had killed those people at all.
They gaped at the man in astonishment as he introduced himself. "Hello," the Grangers both said, and Randy's head was filled with images of the man's face. And he knew this was yet another thing his daughter had neglected to tell him.
"You saw me on the Muggle news." Sirius realized exactly why the Grangers had reacted to him the way they had. Randy wondered if other Muggle parents had put two and two together as well. His face had been shown so often on the news that it had been impossible to escape it for days. There had been a phone number to call if anyone spotted him, but in retrospect, if he had really been dangerous and a Muggle saw him, he'd have just finished them off, wouldn't he? Witches and wizards had powers the likes of which Randy couldn't comprehend. Surely ...
"It's all right, Mum, Dad." Hermione gave them a reassuring smile. "He really is innocent."
"He's my godfather." Harry stepped up next to the Grangers, a look of determination in his emerald eyes. "He was framed - he didn't commit those murders."
A peculiar feeling swept over Randy as he gazed at Harry. He got the sudden, uncontrollable urge to whisk Hermione away from this boy who was the prime target of this sociopath who was trying to make the wizarding world his, by stamping out everyone he thought was unworthy of life. And the monster considered Hermione unworthy of life, didn't he? And ... his little girl was best friends with the one the sick demon wanted nothing more than to get rid of. In that moment, he despised Harry Potter with all of his might.
But he knew his feelings were irrational. The boy was so young, and had been through so much already. He recalled what Ms. Harrison had explained about Cedric Diggory, and he couldn't imagine what it must have been like to be in Harry's position, watching helplessly as an innocent civilian died because they were standing beside him. According to her, Cedric had died painlessly - that, at least, was a blessing.
But Randy had a hard time fighting back the irrational feelings of loathing that buffeted him, because Cedric Diggory had not been one of Harry's best friends ... but his little girl was. And Merlin knew what Voldemort and his supporters would do to her - she wouldn't die painlessly; that, he could be certain of. The thought of Hermione at the mercy of those ... those ... it made him feel sick to his stomach.
Yet, he knew it was Hermione's choice to be Harry's best friend. If he knew anything at all about Hermione, it was that she had an exceedingly strong personality. No one could force her to do anything she didn't want to, and she wouldn't let anyone force their company on her. His strong-willed daughter was Harry Potter's best friend because she wanted to be.
But after everything he'd learned about what the wizarding world was currently facing, he couldn't help the way he felt. He wanted Hermione to never see Harry again - but when he saw how purposeful she looked, and how Harry's emerald eyes shone with happiness at the sight of her, guilt swamped him. Harry Potter was a victim, too - how was it any fault of his that a madman was gunning for his blood?
So he lost himself in small talk, watching all the other parents milling around. As time passed, the entrance hall filled with even more people, and Hermione's parents had to speak very loudly in order to be heard at all. It was truly an incredible sight.
"It's time for dinner, everyone!" a young woman with an American accent boomed. She had somehow amplified her voice to make it heard over the endless amount of chatter. There was no microphone anywhere in sight, so Randy assumed this must have been achieved by magic. "Everyone go to the Great Hall!"
Randy thought fleetingly that it must take a huge amount of courage to be in this country during a war when it was clear she was from America. Maybe she'd lived here her entire life, though, because Randy couldn't imagine leaving your own country behind to experience this horror.
"I'll meet you later, I promise," Hermione told her parents. "Meet me back in the entrance hall at around 11:00, okay?"
The Grangers agreed, hugging their daughter tightly again, but Randy couldn't help but wonder whether she would keep her promise - after all, there had been so many that she had broken. She was looking at them directly, however - something she hadn't done in a long time - so Randy felt a little better about this promise than previous ones.
The Great Hall was truly magnificent. Randy couldn't help but marvel at the ceiling, which showed the sky. It looked just as it had when he and Jean had stood outside, waiting to go in. "Wow," Jean exclaimed, her awe obvious.
"Yeah." Randy replied as he looked around the room. There were four long tables where students were sitting, and they were all decorated differently, with the tablecloths in various colors. Randand and Jean watched as Hermione sat at the red-and-gold table, where the most boisterous students seemed to have gone. She plonked herself down beside Ron, and there was animated conversation all around. Jean and Randy knew this to be the Gryffindor table, which was the house Hermione was in. In the early days, she had told them a lot more information about how Hogwarts worked.
The Grangers found the Weasley parents in the crowd, and they were relieved to see their familiar faces. When Arthur spotted them, his beaming smile lessened the pit in Randy's stomach marginally. "You can come and sit with us," Molly offered in welcome.
"Thank you," Jean said sincerely, and Randy nodded at them as they all found seats at another long table, where many of the parents were sitting.
Once they had taken their places, Arthur said, "This must be such a treat for you two. Are you enjoying getting to see Hogwarts?"
"It's almost ... unreal," Jean said haltingly as she looked up to the ceiling again.
Molly caught where she was looking. "Oh yes," she said with a smile. "This ceiling has always been enchanted to look exactly like the sky."
"Except when it rains, the drops won't fall on you," Arthur said with a chuckle. "That certainly wouldn't do the Great Hall much good."
The Grangers smiled back as more parents began to take their places. Randy could tell which ones were Muggle and which ones were magical simply by how they were dressed, and their reaction to being in the castle. Obviously, many of the magical parents were also alumni of this school.
From across the table, Randy could hear one of the magical fathers say to his wife, "I've honestly missed this place. It feels strange to be back here."
Randy honestly wondered what it was like for parents who were firmly entrenched in magical society. Did they feel just as scared about this horrific war? And ... worse still ... were the Grangers sharing a table with people who actually sympathized with or followed Voldemort?
Everyone listened as the American woman went up to the front of the room and began making announcements. She introduced herself as Fiona Giddens, and said she was this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Randy shuddered slightly - the Dark Arts. Hermione had explained that once upon a time in the early days, and Randy recalled with crystal clarity the slight unease he'd experienced, even then. Defense Against the Dark Arts ... what kind of darkness was being defended against? Now, Randy knew all too well.
Once the feast was under way, neither Jean nor Randy could believe the amount of food that was heaped on the tables. They exchanged a glance as everyone began to fill their plates. Both of them were health food nuts - but in this case, as they watched everyone around them, they couldn't help but indulge in everything. Just this once ...
It was glorious. And it had been a shock to both Grangers when it had just appeared on the tables as if by ... well ... magic. And indeed, that was exactly the case as Randy and Jean munched on the delicious selections in front of them.
Molly and Arthur were watching them. "The house-elves did an amazing job tonight," Molly murmured.
"The what?" Jean asked in confusion. "What's a house-elf?"
By the time Molly and Arthur had explained exactly what a house-elf was, both Randy and Jean had rather lost their appetites. "You mean," Jean asked in outrage, "that people in the magical world hire SLAVES to do their work for them?"
Arthur smiled. "Ron told me that when Hermione found out, she refused to eat," he explained. "But the truth is, house-elves enjoy what they do. The majority of them would be horrified by the thought of freedom."
He and Molly went into a lengthy explanation about how house-elves had come to work for wizards, and many of the other Muggle parents listened in. "But that's ... that's so old-fashioned," one of them said, sounding just as outraged as Jean had.
Randy was pretty disgusted by the entire thing, too. This entire feast, everything that he and Jean were eating, had been provided for them by these creatures who had been brainwashed into believing that slavery was okay. He was completely unsurprised by Hermione's reaction - his little girl believed in justice, and she would never stand for such a thing. But it seemed to have been rooted into wizarding culture now; many of the wizarding parents did not act like this was a big deal at all. It was simply the status quo.
"Honestly," Molly said, finally wrapping up her explanation. "It's an insult to most house-elves to even suggest they're slaves. And most wizarding families do not abuse them at all."
"There's the exception, of course," Arthur said. "But yes, most families are perfectly good to their house-elves."
"So, just because most people don't abuse them, that makes it okay?" Randy demanded.
Molly was taken aback by the strength of his reaction. "That's not what we're saying," she said quietly. "It's just that ... we've never known any differently. It's just ... how things are."
"You don't own any, do you?" Jean demanded harshly.
"No." Molly remained calm as she shook her head.
She offered no further explanation. Both Jean and Randy now knew that the more well-off wizarding families were the ones who owned them. And from the way the Weasleys were dressed, it certainly didn't look as though they were particularly well-off at all. Randy could see the embarrassment on Jean's face - she knew she shouldn't have asked that question.
"So, how's, er ..." Arthur changed the subject. "What's your career called again?"
"We're dentists," Randy explained patiently. "We work on people's teeth."
"You mean, there's an entire career dedicated to that?" one of the other magical parents asked, sounding stunned. "It's so easy for us to fix teeth - it's done in a second."
"Unfortunately, that's not the case for us," Jean said. "It takes a lot of work."
Now, it was Jean and Randy's turn to explain a part of their world, something that was completely normal to them. Interestingly enough, the magical parents seemed to look just as appalled as the Grangers had when they'd learned about house-elves.
"But that's ... that's awful!" the woman, who introduced herself as Elizabeth Hart, exclaimed. "You're telling me that those poor souls have to sit in a chair and ... and ... and just put up with it while you mess around in their mouths, sometimes for hours? That's ... that's ..."
And it was then that Randy truly realized what different worlds Muggles and magic folk lived in. House-elves were normal to people like the Weasleys, yet dentists were considered barbaric and were putting their patients through cruel and unusual punishment. In that moment, Randy wondered whether the Muggle and wizarding worlds would ever truly unite, whether they would have anything in common.
But, in the end, people were people. Humans were humans. Cultures were different, and some things seemed completely strange and abnormal. But as Jean and Randy continued to socialize with the people around them, all Randy wanted in that moment was to gain a better understanding of the world that his beautiful daughter had become involved in.
Because they could take Hermione away all they wanted, and he truly desired nothing more. But as his eyes fell on her, the way she was gazing at Ron with what Randy knew to be love, and the way her eyes adopted a fiercely protective gleam when they stared at Harry, he knew that Hermione would never agree to leave.
And, knowing her as he did, she would do everything in her power not to. And he wouldn't lie - the power she wielded terrified him.
xxx
Randy's heart was so full to bursting with feeling that when he stared down Minerva McGonagall, Hermione's Transfiguration professor and the last teacher on his list to see tonight, he didn't even know where to begin.
Tonight had been ... God, what adjective could he possibly use to describe it? Enlightening? Horrifying? Awe-inspiring? Terrifying? Beautiful? Brutal?
All of these adjectives seemed to contradict one another, but yet, it was how Randy felt. Beside him, the look in Jean's eyes was wild, and he knew that the all-encompassing emotion was contained in her, too.
They'd learned so much tonight. As they went from teacher to teacher, they learned that their little girl was achieving excellent grades. Her work ethic had only become stronger over time, and several of the teachers even mentioned that whenever she turned in her assignments, they were always longer than they should be. Randy reminisced that she'd had the same problem in primary school. When they had asked her about it, Hermione got that obstinate, stubborn look on her face that was such a constant, and said, "How do they expect me to write less? This is so interesting, and I can't just condense it!"
And she had never changed. Whether she was a lonely, friendless little girl in Muggle primary school or a determined, headstrong teenager who would give her very life for people who made up her very soul in a magical school, she hadn't changed at all. That was the one thing they'd realized tonight - it had looked for all the world like the wizarding world had transformed her. But within these walls, she was the same person she had always been.
And the Grangers were exceedingly proud. That was the one emotion that surpassed all the others - pride. Hermione had integrated into the wizarding world with such fervor, and her passion was not to be mistaken.
But ... that was the problem. She had integrated so much that the Grangers were lost. There had been so much about her life that they hadn't known before. It was only now, as they made direct eye contact with Minerva McGonagall, that they truly understood exactly what their daughter had done in the past, and what she was willing to do in the future.
"I don't need friends. I'm fine on my own." Randy long remembered the days when that was Hermione's constant refrain. She'd said it loudly and proudly, but there was always something lurking there behind her eyes. She hid it well, but her pain was evident.
And if she really believed it, why was she constantly saying it as if it were a prayer, as if she was trying to convince herself of it rather than her parents? It was rather like someone who was worried about something, repeating over and over again that they weren't worried. Randy didn't know who Hermione had been trying to fool. She could repeat that phrase all she wanted, but Hermione's loneliness was brutally clear.
Randy and Jean had wished for nothing more than for Hermione to develop deep friendships. Books, studies, and hard work were important, but having someone to share your life with, to be there for you and you for them in both good times and bad times, was much more so. There was something wonderfully fulfilling about having a friend.
Be careful what you wish for, Randy.
Now, Hermione did have a friend, a friend who she was willing to die for. A friend who she was fiercely protective of, a friend who she had proven more than once that she would sacrifice everything for.
But did Randy truly wish for Hermione to turn back into the lonely little girl who swore up and down that she didn't need friends, but always had that deep pain hidden behind her eyes?
Beside him, Jean was glowering at Minerva McGonagall, her eyes glinting with that protective mother's instincts. Randy recalled when Hermione had either been angry or upset as a child, and her accidental magic had been set off. And Randy knew that if Jean had been a witch, the entire room would have exploded with the force of her emotions. There would be no Transfiguration classroom left if Jean Granger were magical.
"How is it," his wife hissed in a low, dangerous voice, "that Hermione has been ... involved ... in so many dangerous escapades, and no one thought to inform us? No owls. No visits. No nothing."
Randy felt his own rage roar to life. "A ... a goddamned basilisk ..." he spat the word - "attacked our daughter, she lies in a coma for months, and we, her parents, don't even deserve to know?"
Minerva's face was pale, and she was looking at the Grangers with a sincerely apologetic expression. This, however, only fed the Grangers' grief and anger. "How did you know about that?" Her voice was soft.
"The Ministry official who came to visit us and inform us of these conferences ... let's just say, she told us all about it," Randy growled.
Jean was blinking back tears now, and Randy took her hand. He could feel it shaking slightly, and he knew she was on the verge of a complete breakdown. Though his emotions were manifesting differently, he was in a very similar position. This prim, proper woman in front of him ... Randy felt that she now knew his daughter better than him. An uncontrollable, irrational envy swelled up inside him, along with the complete and utter helplessness of knowing his daughter had been hurt, and he hadn't even known. She'd tried to be so brave and strong that summer - stiff upper lip and all that. But in unguarded moments, her eyes had given away something undefinable, and now, he knew exactly what had happened to her to cause that look in her eyes.
"How do you expect us to believe that you will protect her now?" Jean's voice shook. "How can you possibly ask us to trust you, when so many times, she's been harmed in some form or fashion? Even if she herself wasn't injured ... the things she's been through ..." She held back a sob.
"We are people." The venom in Randy's voice was apparent. "Yes, we do not possess magical powers. Yes, we had to have a charm placed on us so that we can actually see where our daughter goes to school. Yes, we have grown apart from her, and she's scared to inform us of what's been going on here.
"But we love her." Randy's voice was filled with a raw, clawing desperation. "We love her more than our own lives. We will do anything for her."
"If it was up to us, she would be out of this school tonight." Jean's voice was still shaking. "She'd be far, far away from all of this. If it was up to us, we'd have our daughter back, never to associate with Harry Potter ever again."
"Mr. Potter is not responsible ..." Minerva started, her face plainly showing that she had entered unfamiliar territory.
"We know." Randy spoke sharply. "We know we can't truly blame that boy for being the target of a monster. We can't blame Hermione for finding a friend in him - all we ever wanted was for her to find friendship."
"And we know that if we took her away from here, she'd fight us every step of the way." Jean sounded so heartbroken and devastated that all Randy wanted to do was hold her in his arms and kiss her pain away. But he was feeling the exact same agony deep in his heart.
"She'd find a way to get back here, no matter what she'd have to do to us. I know she wouldn't intentionally hurt us, but ..." He sighed wearily as the truth sank its claws into him.
"We can never give her what she's found in this world." Jean spoke the exact sentiment that Randy had been thinking. He suddenly thought wistfully of when they'd first fallen in love - it had been amazing when they'd both realized they thought in the exact same way, almost as if they could read each other's minds. In this moment, this was an eternal comfort to him.
"And ... if we did succeed in taking her away from this place ... Voldemort would be determined to find her." Randy felt sickness churn inside his gut. His imagination went wild as he thought of hooded, masked figures doing God-knows-what to his little girl, just because she'd found a friend and it just had to be Harry bloody Potter.
"What can we do?" Jean's words were desperate. "Please, tell us what to do."
Minerva, who had given off an air of grave seriousness, suddenly looked incredibly vulnerable. She suddenly looked just as scared as Randy felt. An unexpected surge of sympathy burst to life inside him - how must it feel, to have all these students in your care during times like this? How must it feel to be responsible for all of their protection, and to know that one misstep could be catastrophic?
"We have made so many mistakes." Minerva sighed heavily and almost collapsed into her chair. "I cannot fault you for your angry words tonight - you are right. For years, we have stuck to the status quo, not realizing that Muggle parents are well within their rights to know more about the magical world. As you said, you do not possess magical powers, but that does not make you any less intelligent, and any less capable of accomplishing incredible feats."
Randy knew that Minerva wasn't meaning to come off this way, but he still couldn't help feeling like he was being talked down to by that last comment. Yes, Muggles could accomplish "incredible feats" without magic - witches and wizards said that like it was something spectacular. What would be said to them next? That their lives must be so terrible because they didn't have magic? That people wondered how they could even wake up in the morning because they didn't have a magical bone in their body?
He fought off the instinctive reaction, because he knew Minerva was being genuine. "We need to know what's happening, Minerva," he said quietly. "We can't spend months away from our daughter without talking to her."
"We need to hear her voice," Jean whispered. "And we need to know what you're doing to keep her safe."
In reply, Minerva opened a drawer in her desk, and pulled out several pieces of parchment. "We pledge to do better from now on," she said just as quietly as she handed the parchments over. "These are our safety protocols," she explained. "We knew parents would have questions. We thought it only right to provide them with answers.
"I am sorry," she said sincerely, maintaining eye contact with the Grangers. "I don't think I ever truly comprehended how difficult this must be. After the Statute of Secrecy went into effect, witches and wizards, over time, lost touch with the Muggle world. We have lived apart from our fellow humans, and even though Muggle-borns have been accepted into Hogwarts, we have neglected to inform their parents of many things about our world. And now, with a war happening ..."
She stopped, seemingly unable to go on. Randy looked at the woman in front of him, and he felt his heart soften. He had accused witches and wizards of not understanding them - but maybe, he'd made the same mistake. The woman sitting before him had stress lines around her eyes and mouth, even though she was trying to be no-nonsense, prim, and proper. He knew someone under stress when he saw them - God, how much carnage had she seen? This ... this Voldemort ... he'd been around in the 1970's and very early 1980's, terrorizing so many. Randy, for the first time, truly saw the toll it had taken on her.
"I'm sorry too," Jean said softly, proving to Randy that once again, they were on the same page. "I just ... I ..."
"I understand." Minerva got up from her chair and placed a comforting hand on Jean's shoulder. "We are coming up with a way for all magical children, whether they're Muggle-born, half-blood, or pureblood - to speak to their parents while at Hogwarts," she explained. "The Order of the Phoenix has agreed to work on it - they had a meeting about it before the conferences today."
She then explained exactly who the Order of the Phoenix were, and that they were all going to be here during all of the parent-teacher conferences. The Grangers had met their leader, Sturgis Podmore, earlier this evening, but it was good to know more details about the organization.
"They can tell you more during the question-and-answer session that is not long from now," Minerva stated. "We will do what it takes to rectify the damage that has been done. We know that we will never be able to fix it completely, but ..."
Randy and Jean simply nodded, not knowing what to say. This witch honestly did seem to understand, and as they stood in the classroom facing her, Randy felt an inexplicable feeling of hope.
xxx
The evening was over.
Well, the parent-teacher conferences part of the evening was over for the Grangers. But as Hermione came walking towards them, having actually kept her promise, Randy knew that the most important part of their evening was yet to come.
Parents and daughter simply gazed at each other for one long, endless moment. None of them said anything at all - Jean and Randy simply followed Hermione as she led them down many corridors, up moving staircases, past talking portraits - all the way to an empty classroom. Randy didn't fail to notice how purposeful and confident Hermione's strides were as she navigated the castle - yet her face showed her fear and her anxiety that surrounded the upcoming conversation.
Upon entering, Hermione faced her parents for what felt like the first time in years. There were no lies between them now, no dishonesty, no secrets.
Randy had prepared for this moment ever since Ms. Harrison had told him and Jean the truth about what was really going on in Hermione's world. He had imagined it going all kinds of different ways, but the way the conversation actually started was not one of them. He simply held out his arms to his daughter and whispered, "I'm so proud of you, Hermione."
The girl looked absolutely stunned as she ran to her father, something she hadn't done in a very, very long time. "Daddy," she whispered, sounding so young and so vulnerable in that moment that it almost broke him. "I'm sorry ... I'm so sorry." Her face crumpled, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she held onto her father.
Within seconds, her mother was joining the embrace. "My baby," she whispered. "My poor, poor baby."
"I'm s-s-sorry I l-lied to you." Hermione's whole body was shaking with her sobs. All the barriers she'd erected around herself over all these years she'd been here crumbled. It seemed that her father's words had completely collapsed all of her defenses.
And now, it was proven that Hermione still loved her parents deeply. Her constant lies, the way she wouldn't even look at them for so long, the way she never wanted to spend time with them and always wanted to go to the Weasleys ... sometimes, Randy wasn't so sure.
But now, in this moment, as Hermione clung to both of them, he knew that all of those thoughts had no merit. She'd simply been terrified of telling them anything, and she'd fallen so far into the wizarding world that she'd forgotten that she could count on them to hold her up.
It was as if, in that moment, they were inhabiting the same world again. So much had happened to Hermione, and she'd fallen into the trap that Minerva admitted so many Muggle-borns had fallen into - that her parents simply wouldn't understand what she was going through. And it was true that they could never fully understand - they would always be on the outside looking in. He remembered the time when Hermione had simply referred to them as "Muggles", and how much that had hurt.
But as he held her now, he thought that maybe their relationship could mend. Maybe the damage wasn't permanent. Maybe the Order of the Phoenix could help them to salvage what had been lost.
Two-way mirrors. Of all people, Sirius Black had been the one to tell the parents about the devices that the Order of the Phoenix were going to create. These mirrors would apparently let them speak with their children. You didn't have to be magical to power them, as the Order was going to create a way for Muggles to use the mirrors without it.
After what seemed like an eternity, Hermione released her parents from her hug and wiped her eyes. The vulnerable and lost look she had worn was replaced by the stubborn, obstinate, defiant streak they knew she possessed. "I ... I know you want to take me away from here." She was speaking very fast, as if wanting to get all the words out as soon as possible. "But ... but I can't leave."
The world seemed to go very still as her brown eyes stared into her parents' very souls. "This is my world," she stated simply, but the words were full of meaning. "And Hogwarts is my home. Harry ..." Her expression grew fierce. "Harry needs people to stand by him. He doesn't deserve any of what's happened to him, and ... and he's my best friend. And Ron ..." Her voice grew quiet as she spoke right from her heart. "I'm in love with him."
"I know." Randy spoke quietly. "I saw the way you were looking at him. Every father knows when their daughter falls in love for the first time."
Hermione tried her best not to look embarrassed, but an endearing flush spread over her cheeks. This was truly the girl Randy knew, the one he had missed for so, so long.
"We realize why you lied to us," Jean whispered. "What you have endured ... I cannot fathom it."
"Don't, Mum," Hermione pleaded. "Harry's been through so ... so much worse. I ... I can't leave him. I know what I'm getting myself into," she said, her voice growing louder again. "And you can't stop me from helping him. Even if you take me far, far away from this place, I'll find a way to come back."
Previously, when Hermione had spoken to her parents about the magical world, there was annoyance, irritation, and even defiant anger in her tone. But now, there was none of those things. She was simply laying down the law - telling them how things were going to be. The look on her face was the same one she wore when she was simply stating facts from a book, with a layer of added fierceness. She was not going to budge from her position no matter what arguments the Grangers made.
And in that moment, Randy and Jean Granger realized that this was the little girl they had raised. They had taught her to stand her ground, to not let anyone change her mind, to always fight for what she believed in. And now, she had indeed found a cause to fight for.
"I belong to this world just as much as the purebloods do," Hermione continued. "I know what I'm risking by staying. I know what I'm risking by being Harry's friend." Her brown eyes glinted. "And no matter what happens, I'm going to see this thing through," she whispered. "No matter what it might cost me. Because it will all be worth it."
It hurt. It hurt like a venom-tipped knife to the gut, to hear his daughter talking about fighting and dying. When he'd realized how big of a personality Hermione had, he never would have dreamed it would come to this. "A mover and a shaker." He and Jean had always said that about her in the past, and unbeknownst to them, their prediction had come true in a way they couldn't have ever fathomed.
And suddenly, he felt another huge well of emotion surge up in him. It was people like Hermione who truly made a difference. It was people like Hermione who changed the world, who made people understand the impossible. Her words were definitely having an effect on both him and Jean.
She had lied to them so many times before, but now, as they gazed at her, they knew she was speaking the absolute truth. She knew exactly what she was fighting for, and exactly what it might cost her. This wasn't the speech of a child who had gotten in over her head and wasn't sure what she was doing. These were the words of a young woman who was confident and sure of her life's direction.
And so, it was Randy who spoke the words that literally broke him as a father - but he knew they needed to be said. "We understand, Hermione." Those three words were the hardest ones he'd ever spoken.
Jean blinked back tears, and Randy took her hand again. "We hate it," she admitted, making no bones about stating her true feelings as well. "For so long, we weren't involved in your life, and you've endured things we can scarcely imagine. But ..." She closed her eyes in pain. "You're right," she whispered. "This is your world, and you deserve to be a part of it."
Now that the words were out in the open, Randy felt like collapsing to the ground in grief. Had they really just agreed to allow their daughter to sacrifice her life?
Hermione stared at them in astonishment, opening and closing her mouth, completely unable to speak.
There was a moment in a parent's life when they had to let their child fly free, allowing them to leave the nest and find their own path. Randy had heard about how difficult that period was, but every scenario he'd imagined was nothing like the one that was playing out before him now.
There were apologies, more hugs, more tears, more explanations (including how she played a major role in Sirius Black's story, something that they weren't at all surprised to hear), and more promises from Hermione which Randy knew that, this time, she wouldn't break.
For Hermione, there was no leaving the magical world. There was fighting for what was right, and making the world better for everyone that Voldemort wanted to destroy. There was the love she held for a redheaded boy who was also fighting for peace. And there was the willingness to sacrifice everything for a boy who had rescued her from a mountain troll.
And there, in that empty classroom, the Grangers made a vow to their daughter. "We'll fight with you." The look in Jean's eyes was unyielding. "Apparently, there's been some talk of Muggle weapons being mixed with magic."
"This is your world," Randy reiterated strongly. "We may not belong in it, but you do. And any tyrant who feels it right to threaten you and those you love ... we fight it as well."
"We want to know everything," Jean said. "Everything you're facing, and exactly what you're up against. We Muggles can be very ... unique with our ways to fight back."
Hermione's mouth was open so wide that Randy got the sudden urge to laugh. The expression was so childlike on her face, so innocent. But he knew that Hermione had lost much of her innocence on that night just over four years ago, when that troll had been sent into the school by an evil wizard who wanted every one of her kind dead. It was the night she had fallen into something much, much bigger than herself.
"We end this war together, Hermione." Jean took the girl into her arms again. "Together."