Magisterial Majesty
"Hi mum and dad!" said Hermione, walking in the back door.
"Hermione? You're supposed to be at school," said her mum, Dr Frances Granger DDS.
"I apparated. It's basically teleportation," said Hermione, ignoring her mother's gasp of shock. "It's licenced. I was old enough and some of my friends in … a club chipped in to get me lessons before Hogwarts would normally teach it."
"When would Hogwarts normally teach it?" asked Dr Adam Granger BDS.
"Summer term of sixth year," said Hermione. "And it's ever so handy for going shopping."
"Going shopping? I presume books feature in this shopping?" asked Frances, smoothing her blakc hair down. "Given that you can teleport, what are it's limitations?"
"Well, I'm pants at side-along. Basically taking someone pillion," said Hermione, "and you can't apparate safely over water; it's got to do, I think with water being wobbly."
"Wobbly," said Adam, with a raised eyebrow.
"Not solid," said Hermione. "Nobody talks about the underlying theory, but given that space-expansion charms are commonplace, and how it feels, I think it's a wormhole."
"Is it instantaneous?" asked Adam.
"It's not," said Hermione, firmly. "There's a feeling of compression. Which can be quite severe, and lead to nausea. Long trips like from Scotland might take several seconds, and apparating immediately after apparating can be very disorienting."
Frances lifted her eyebrows briefly.
"Chain-apparation could be used to explore," said Hermione. "You can only go places you can visualise, though there are apparation coordinates, it's sort of a written description, and I passed my test at the Mininstry, and the last part of the test was to apparate to a coordinate."
"So it's as annoying as parallel parking," said Adam quite concisely.
"Some of us can," said Frances pointedly. "Is teleportation entirely safe, dear?"
"There's some risk of leaving eyebrows behind, that sort of thing," glossed Hermione.
"Hermione!" said Frances.
"It's possible to cock it up so badly you lose body parts ytes, but given the quality of magical healing, it's not considered dangerous until a witch or wizard is exceedingly elderly. Then they have to take the bus," said Hermione.
"So, shopping? You're popping down to the Tescos for a chocolate bar then?" asked Adam.
"You can't apparate at Hogwarts; it's a security measure," said Hermione "No, it's more to go get – ingredients for club meetings."
"Club meetings? Cooking club?" asked Adam.
"She must mean potions," said Frances.
"Um. Not exactly," said Hermione, biting her lower lip.
"Define not exactly on a spectrum from say, promises to your gran, to election talking points?" asked Frances more seriously.
"Ritual magic," said Hermione. "There are no restrictions on where even an underage witch can do it, and it's a neglected field with many practical applications."
"There's probably a reason it's neglected dear," said Adam, frowning.
"Well, the Ministry of Magic wants people not to do rituals because the enchantments for detecting underage magic don't detect it, or most potion-making" said Hermione. "And there are some very conservative opinions about rituals being a slippery slope."
"So, dear, you're going to Diagon Alley often then?" asked Frances.
"Oh, once a week or so. Rituals need fiddly ingredients, or annoyingly expensive ones."
"And you're the one with a drivers licence," said Adam, sighing.
"Look, bringing a few Terrys chocolate oranges to coven meetings is just polite," said Hermione.
"Coven meetings?" asked Francis.
"Well, a group of witches is a coven," said Hermione, her ears and cheeks going pink.
"Hermione!" said Frances.
"I'm um. Sort of the Magister of the coven," admitted Hermione.
"Sort of the Magister?" asked Adam.
"That's the head-witch, isn't it?" asked Frances.
"Um, yes," admitted Hermione, cheeks flushed red.
Francis smiled smugly, and was, in that instant, apart from her mode of dress, indistinguishable from the mother of any other successful young witch. (Although more people, on average, thought Francis was evil, just because she was a Dentist; relatively few people believed in witches, after all.)
"So what exactly does this coven do?" asked Adam.
"Mostly we made sure every witch at Hogwarts had access to a ritual to stop periods, dad," said Hermione. "It's trivial to make the potion to have one again, should one wish to conceive, and it's miles better than the period-pain potion."
"Period-pain potion?" asked Francis.
"School nurse hands it out like ginger beer," said Hermione. "Our way is better, and Daphne – Harry's girlfriend, she was having the very worst period pain."
"Your friend Harry has a girlfriend? Is she nice?" asked Frances, lifting an eyebrow again.
"Um. I think we need to back up bit," said Hermione. "Coven aside, the thing is, over in a different parallel universe, there was a different Harry. He and Daphne were caught up in a cursed scroll that had an old marriage agreement on it, and they wanted out of it. They did this really ridiculously overpowered ritual to work out the direction of a parallel universe where Harry and Daphne wouldn't mind being cursed to fancy each other; because they already did, and sent the curse over to our universe."
"What?" asked Adam. He frowned. A frowning dentist, even one who cuts his hair short, is not a pleasant sight.
"Multiple universes? You're talking science-fiction, you're a witch. Talk fantasy," said Francis, a trifle unreasonably, but she was the proud mother of a witch – and had already reconciled herself that her daughter wasn't going to Oxford at this rate.
"Well, our best reference books don't say multiple universes, but it seems like the simplest explanation of what they do say," said Hermione. "It's that or everything's just a probability, and that gives me a headache."
"So they came over and cast a spell?" asked Adam.
"They used a ritual to move a curse tied to a specific person's magic. There's nothing about it in our school library restricted section, so it's seriously rare. You can't take a bound curse off someone, but that's the loophole we think that they used a different version of the same person. The curse just appeared on Harry and Daphne on Halloween. Well, and some cursed scars, spelling out an explanation, and in Harry's case, someone, probably Harry decided to send a cheat-sheet for defeating this evil wizard that's been lurking around."
"Cheat sheet?" asked Frances.
"Well, technically it's a lot of cursed scars on Harry's back; all done with a cursed quill. It's devilishly ingenious; they were sending a curse anyway, so the cursed scars tagged along and explained everything," said Hermione.
"That can't be normal. Are the staff doing anything about it? The authorities?" asked Francis sharply.
"Yes, and yes, actually," said Hermione blithely. "So well, Harry's been told specifically to ignore the list on his back."
"Hang on. Did they manage to do time-travel as well?" asked Adam.
"Yes. Clever of them," said Hermione. "We can only safely do time-travel for up to twenty-four hours or so. I think using a different universe is the trick to bigger differences without fatally aging."
"Time travel!" said Adam indignantly.
"Well, when I read up on it in third year, it was mostly warnings that time-travel is incredibly dangerous – the only time-traveller on record having made a big shift, had the time catch up on them, it went badly, as you might expect," said Hermione. "We used it to fit more courses into a fixed schedule."
"Your school used time-travel to schedule classes?"
Hermione shrugged. "Well, it was a pilot programme when I was in third year," said Hermione blandly. "Just very short-range, a few hours at most."
"Quite," said Francis. "So, you can teleport now, but can't take us on holidays?"
"Well, not till I've practised more," admitted Hermione. "But compared to the divination ritual we discovered it's pretty pathetic."
"I thought you said divination was bunk?" asked Francis, giving Hermione a 'what are you saying, young lady?' glare.
"As taught." said Hermione, her neck twitching slightly. "The important thing from my point of view is that we have a way to do one divination, once, per witch, which can pretty much work out anything. Only it might not be possible to find the right time to do the actual ritual, so it's merely amazing, not an all-powerful oracle."
"So what can this amazing thing do?" asked France. "Given that you can teleport, and apparently time-travel's not off the cards?"
"Well, we're using it to fund to coven by betting on sports matches," said Hermione. "It's technically legal, and the witch doing it is sacrificing her ability to do any Divination ever again, so it's not a trivial sacrifice."
"And bet on the pools?" asked Adam.
"Quidditch world cup, the Americans have a Quodpot 'World series'. We can't use it on lotteries, because the ritual might only be possible after the lottery is drawn. Things that pay out annually are the best targets." said Hermione.
"That sounds a lot like cheating," said Francis, leaning back in her chair.
"Sacrificing part of my magic, the thing that makes me a witch," said Hermione. "Of course, I personally loathe divination, but we stand to make several thousand galleons on the Quidditch World Cup, so it will fund coven operations for a year at least."
"That seems to be a large operations bill," said Francis, who could do math in her head, and knew what it cost to run a Dental practice.
"We need expensive ingredients for some of the really potent rituals. There's one that rewrites one's DNA using a survey of the entire multiverse going forward, into what the textbook coyly calls a 'Best inheritance ritual.' Basically the best possible combination of my parent's genetics." said Hermione. And she smiled at her parents.
"But you're already grown," said Adam.
"We have found several rituals capable of retrospectively altering DNA and appearance," said Hermione. "There are even potions that can do it, though technically potions are a special case of rituals where the ritual target is a potion."
"It's like something from a scifi novel," said Adam.
"Well, it's Clarkes Law, isn't it," said Francis "Any sufficiently advanced science is indistinguishable from magic."
"Well, in this case, any sufficiently advanced magic is indistinguishable from science-fiction," said Hermione. "We're going to use the best-inheritance ritual to cure this ghastly inherited magical curse on of the girls has. For political reasons one doesn't refer to those sort of things as genetic disorders, but basically, one of my um, friends family has an inherited illness that mostly effects women, and they die very young. We should have a cure applied by summer at this rate."
"So you're going to be a magical doctor then?" asked Francis.
"Um, I don't think so. I like the research side of ritual magic, and it's been neglected so long, and it's capable of such interesting combined effects…" said Hermione.
"Combined effects?"
"Well, if we made, say, a potion to make you stronger, and you took twice as much, you wouldn't get twice as strong. Actually if I remember rightly, that potion's dangerous in large doses. But there is a ritual to improve strength, and while it's banned in professional sports, you can do it twice, if you want to," said Hermione.
"Wait a tick – banned in profession sports?" asked Francis, a little louder than she intended.
"Oh, it's discouraged as a kind of magic to study, but there are still rituals used by the Ministry," said Hermione. "And some medical processes are best done as rituals. And of course, it's banned in professional sports."
"But not sports-betting?"
"Well, that particular ritual can only be done by a witch once, and she has to be … younger," said Hermione. "So even by rituals standards it's pretty obscure. We've got access to the old rituals classroom and resources, and it's superlative. By far the best thing of its kind at Hogwarts, but it is seen, because you can stack up effects, as a gateway to using the Dark Arts. The quest for increased personal power and all that."
Adam blinked, nodded and sighed.
"Hermione, you're starting to sound a little dismissive of your Ministry of Magic?" asked Francis.
"Well, they're largely corrupt, and talking to girls from… more magical backgrounds, I'm starting to see things from a more… native position," said Hermione.
"Hmm. Were we naive tourists?" asked Adam.
"A little, but also, things like the cessation of rituals education were a reaction to past dark lords, and wars," said Hermione. "And as Tracey says, throwing out the baby with the bathwater. Her dad's a magical lawyer, and her mother's a healer at St Mungo's… basically like a surgeon."
"You mentioned that Harry's got a girlfriend now, Tracey or Daphne?
"Daphne is Tracey's best friend. Daphne's mother is an amateur potion-brewer, but apparently at least as good as most professionals, and her dad does import-export, using portkeys. That's a different kind of teleportation, using enchanted objects." said Hermione. She smiled briefly. "And I never really met them because we were sorted into different houses. Daphne was utterly horrified to have Harry's name appear on her wrist… even if she did fancy him beforehand. Apparently there's a genre of romance novels for witches where that sort of thing happens."
"Romance novels for witches?" asked Adam.
"There are just as many bored witches with a cat as muggle women with cats," said Hermione. "Although witches do tend to get Kneazles or half-kneazles like Crookshanks, because they're smarter, and can sniff out untrustworthy people."
Francis suppressed a smug smile.
"How is the big orange monster?"
"He's enjoying being the coven mascot," said Hermione. "He gets more treats, and seems to find ritual magic entertaining to watch."
"Is there… nudity?" asked Adam.
"Dad, for some rituals, we have to write runes on our skin, so sometimes. In general, no. And as friends have snidely observed, I paid little attention to the rituals that use dance. Oh, and most clothes a witch wears are enchanted, so sometimes we have to put on cotton shifts that aren't enchanted. Sort of… magically sterile."
"I could pick up some plain cotton nighties from Marks and Sparks," offered Francis.
"Thanks mum, we're not sure about synthetic fibres – we don't have a professor for Rituals, so we have to work things out. But we do have Daphne's mum, she went to school on the continent, at least till her Sixth year, and her school taught Rituals, so she checks things over before we do them."
"Gracious!" said Francis "Are you sure you're my daughter? Getting an adult to check things first?"
"I have hardly ever – "
"You have wrecked two cookers with your cauldrons, and that microwave was never the same again" said Adam.
"That could have been a groundbreaking breakthrough in potions making," said Hermione.
"Hermione, dear, if it was that easy to make groundbreaking discoveries, it would have been discovered already," said Francis. "It's nice to hear you're making friends."
"I'm not sure I can describe the entire coven as friends these days," said Hermione. "We don't count most of the girls that just come for the periods ritual, as members, but some of the girls, especially the bigoted purebloods ones were… have been a pain in my bum for years."
"And now?"
"Are left having to play nice or miss out," said Hermione, and she smiled. "Conveniently for me, the worst bully in school has an atrocious pug nose, and her mother won't get her surgery. It's coven or look like a pug. And her enforcer, poor girl has… well, weight and size problems. She's exceedingly willing to toe the line in return for a bit of a boost to her confidence."
Hermione was later to regard Millicent's 'A bit of a boost to her confidence' with a sort of wry amusement; that she'd ever thought so little of Millicent. Who was, by the time she was twenty-five, Magical Britain's greatest fashion export, as a model who looked like much like a paler Sophia Zabini, but who didn't actually murder husbands for money, being content with modelling couture in Paris for enviable sums. Hermione got an annual Christmas card, which felt oddly condescending. But that was later.
-=0=-
Harry Potter searched through the Roof of Lost things. He knew roughly what he wanted, but he had found that the lost things sorting function if you used the Room of Requirement, was only as good as his imagination. And he needed to find Daphne a present for Christmas. Ideally, of course, he'd sneak out to Hogsmeade and get her something new from a shop. He knew she had slippers and a dressing-gown, so he couldn't give her that. His memory of television commercials suggested she might want chocolates. But also, he needed a present for her family.
Like a bolt of lightning, he was struck by an idea; a brilliant, foolproof plan. And a doorway appeared on the wall, which seemed like Hogwarts approved of his plan, to Harry.
The tunnel exited through a trapdoor in the basement of the Hogs Head, which Harry suspected should be closed for hygiene reasons.
The Bartender confronted Harry as he left the basement.
"What were you doing in my basement?" asked the old, grey haired, bearded man.
"Um. I took a secret door to Hogwarts and it came out there," said Harry; something about him seemed oddly trustworthy. Maybe it was that he had blue eyes?
"Oh," said the Bartender. "You better not be stealing my stuff!"
Harry held his tongue – there was nothing worth stealing down there.
When Harry kept walking to the main door the bartender said, quite loudly "And you're not even buying clandestine Firewhiskey?"
Harry stopped and turned "I was um, going to get some chocolates for my girlfriend's family," he explained.
"Her family?" asked the old man "What are you getting her?"
"No idea yet. I thought I'd ask when I um, handed over the present for her family," said Harry.
"Cunning," said the old man, nodding.