Author's Note: Yikes! What happened to me? My life went all topsy-turvy for awhile there, including this horribly long period of time where I suffered from writer's block. I seriously do apologize for all of that. Things are a bit more back to normal now (or so I hope), and it appears that I can formulate sentences again, thank God! Anyway, here's my next chapter, although I wouldn't be surprised if most of you forgot this story. Mucho gracias as always to Nitya, because she's wonderful.
CHAPTER SIX
THE GRANGERS
Conversation immediately picked up after they turned off of Privet Drive. Hermione's parents seemed eager to learn as much about Harry as they could from him, obviously recognizing that their daughter's opinion was highly biased.
"So, you're sixteen currently, right?" Mr. Granger asked.
"Yes, sir, although I'll be seventeen on the thirty-first," Harry replied.
"Oh, your birthday's coming up, how lovely!" Mrs. Granger said. "I'll have to bake you a cake-with artificial sweetener, of course. What's your favorite?"
"Er-doesn't matter. I'm not picky," he said, causing Hermione to giggle.
"He prefers chocolate, Mum," she said.
"Oh good! I've got a wonderful recipe for chocolate cake," Mrs. Granger said.
Mr. Granger chuckled. "Why don't you tell us about how you've been doing your past six years in school, Harry? Excited that this upcoming one is your last year?"
"Er-I haven't really thought about it all that much." He frowned. "I suppose I'm a bit sad, actually. Hogwarts has become my home, really, and I don't want to leave it."
"You sound like Hermione," Mrs. Granger said. "She can never bear to part with it. I suspect that's why she always stays during the Christmas and Easter holidays."
"The studying is very intense, Mum," Hermione said quickly. "Especially now, with us working on our N.E.W.T.s."
"Yes, yes, I know. Busy Bee Hermione, always studying," Mrs. Granger murmured.
"You did instill good educational values in me," she said.
"Which is why Ron and I are always getting yelled at by her whenever we put Quidditch practice ahead of homework," Harry added, laughing.
"Quidditch?" Mr. Granger asked.
"Er-it's the wizarding world's sport, sir," Harry explained. "It's played on broomsticks with three different kinds of balls-"
"Oh yes, now I remember!" Mr. Granger said. "Hermione told us you were a…Finder."
"Er-Seeker, sir," Harry corrected.
"That's right. Sorry."
"Easy mistake," Harry said.
"Now, see, this wizarding sport-Queerditch-"
"Quidditch, Dad. Queerditch is the name of a marsh it was once played on," Hermione said.
"Again, sorry. Quidditch sounds fascinating. Mind explaining the rules, Harry?"
"Er-no, sir. See, there are seven players on each team. Three players called the Chasers toss a ball called the Quaffle back and forth to each other and then attempt to get it past the other team's Keeper and through one of the three goal hoops. There are two players on each side flying around with bats and hitting two balls called the Bludgers at the members of the opposite team. They're called Beaters. Then there's me, the Seeker. The Seeker of each team has one job and one job only-to capture the Golden Snitch."
"Sounds exciting," Mrs. Granger commented.
"Harry doesn't make his job sound nearly as important as it is, though," Hermione said. "Catching the Snitch is the only way to end the match and whichever team catches it receives an extra one-hundred and fifty points. Not to mention that the Snitch is really tiny!"
"It's about the size of a walnut," Harry said.
Mr. Granger laughed. "I'm a big fan of football, but this sounds like something I've got to see."
"I've got a few books on it, if you'd like to see them, sir," Harry offered.
"That sounds great, Harry," he said, beaming.
"Harry is the captain of the Gryffindor team," Hermione told them, "and they had a perfect season last year."
Mr. Granger whistled in appreciation. "Incredible. I bet that's hard, isn't it, Harry?"
"Oh, I dunno. It's not like it hasn't been done before."
"Oh, listen to him, Mark-he's so modest," Mrs. Granger remarked.
Harry's cheeks went pink. "I worked with an excellent team last year. That's why we won the Cup."
"It's a shame Katie's gone," Hermione said. "I suppose you'll have to find somebody to replace her."
He shrugged. "It's not as bad as it was last year, what with having to replace Fred, George, Angelina, and Alicia. But I'll miss Katie. She's the final member of the original team I was on in during our first year."
Hermione smiled. "But now you have Ron and Ginny on the team…Hunter…"
"Hunter! God, I nearly forgot about him. Have you sent a letter or anything to Ally this summer yet?" he asked.
"Once. I got a letter back too. Ally's spending her holiday in Austria with her parents. It sounds lovely," she replied.
"Oh. That's great. I suppose I should write him, shouldn't I?"
"Well, you are his mentor," she said.
He nodded. "Right."
"I take it you'll need the use of your owl," Mr. Granger said. "Speaking of which, I didn't see her. Is she not coming with you?"
"Oh, I sent her on ahead. I think she'd prefer to fly than be cooped up in a cage," Harry said.
"Ah, good idea," Mr. Granger remarked.
"You bought Hermione her owl last year, didn't you?" Mrs. Granger asked him.
"Er-yes. It was a birthday gift."
"He's a very handsome bird. I remember the first time I saw him, arriving with Hermione's letter, thanking us for our gifts," Mrs. Granger said. "But he must have been expensive."
He looked over at Hermione and grinned. "Oh, nothing's too expensive when it comes to Hermione."
She laughed. "Nothing's too expensive when you've got two vaults full of gold!"
In the front seats of the car, Mr. and Mrs. Granger glanced at each other.
"Money that I don't really want," Harry said. "There was nothing I could do about getting my parents' money, but I didn't ask Sirius to make me the sole heir to his fortune."
"I know," Hermione said, reaching over and placing her hand on his.
"I should tell Lupin to go in and take half of it. He could certainly use it. And then I'll give the other half to the Weasleys."
"Oh Harry, you know they would never take it."
"Yeah, I know, although I wish they would. What does a sixteen-year-old need with that many Galleons?"
She shrugged. "No idea. Perhaps to buy your own Quidditch team?"
He laughed. "And then listen to you scold me about squandering my inheritance? You've got to be kidding."
"You know me too well," she replied, smirking.
He gave her an amused grin before it faded and he sighed. "It doesn't matter at the moment anyway-it's not Muggle currency. In this world, I don't have a pound to my name."
"That doesn't mean we're not going to have fun this summer," Hermione said cheerfully. "You don't need money to have fun."
"Too right, Hermione," Mr. Granger said approvingly.
Harry chuckled. "Of course I don't need money to have fun," he said. "I've got you."
She blushed. "I'm glad that you don't find me ridiculously boring."
"Boring? How could I find someone who was able to brew Polyjuice Potion at the age of twelve boring?"
She titled her head. "Do you mean to say that the only reason why you're friends with me is because I'm brainy?"
He stared at her, taken aback. How could she think that? "What? No! You're practically a genius, yes, but-" He was suddenly interrupted by her laughter.
"Oh, Harry, honestly. Did you really think that question was serious?" she asked, doubling over in her seat.
He glared at her, but there wasn't any strength behind it. "Okay, so maybe this wasn't one of your sensitive moments."
She laughed, if possible, even harder. "My 'sensitive moments?' I was unaware that I had any of these so-called moments."
"Oh, they occur-" He suddenly glanced over at her parents, both of which were listening in with amused looks on their faces. "-every once in awhile. Ron and I are very wary of them."
"Oh really?" she asked, still laughing.
"Extremely. We have long conversations about them up in our dormitory-away from your sharp ears."
She giggled. "Really? Long, deep, meaningful conversations in which you ponder life, among other things?"
"Hermione!" He cried, finally succumbing to laughter. "I always knew there was some wicked sense of humor buried underneath that rule abiding goody-two-shoes exterior."
"I've been around you and Ron for far too long," she said with a gleam of amusement in her eyes.
"Obviously," Harry said. "Next thing I know, you'll be pulling pranks on us."
She scoffed. "Oh no, I'm not turning into Fred and George. And you and Ron are pretty harmless. I can't even remember the last thing you two pulled."
Harry grinned. "I can."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Boys."
*****
They arrived at a neat suburban home near London sometime later. Harry eyed the house out of his window as they pulled into the driveway. It was bigger than what he had expected. Of course, with two people pulling in good salaries as dentists, he was sure they could afford something nice.
"I'll help you with your trunk, Harry," Mr. Granger said, getting out and walking around to the trunk of the car.
"Right. Thanks," he said, getting out of the car as Hermione grabbed not only Hedwig's cage, but both of Harry's broomsticks as well. He grinned at her. "Thanks, Hermione."
"You're welcome," she said.
Harry lifted his trunk out of the car and hauled it up to the front door with Mr. Granger. After Mrs. Granger opened the door, they dropped it in the foyer.
"Tell me, Harry, have you had lunch yet?" Mrs. Granger asked.
"Er-no, ma'am. I've been too anxious to eat," he said, causing her to smile.
"Well, why don't I go whip up something so that Hermione can give you the grand tour?"
"Er-that sounds lovely," he said.
"Wonderful," she said and headed off towards the back of the house.
"I've got some calls to make, so I'll be in the den," Mr. Granger said, taking his leave. "Hermione, can you help Harry take his trunk up to his room?"
She nodded. "Yes, Dad."
"Alright." He then exited to the right.
Harry and Hermione stared at each other.
"So, yes, let me give you the grand tour," she said awkwardly. "I suppose we could do this in a slightly unorthodox manner and start with the upstairs so that you can drop your trunk off and then end up in the kitchen for lunch."
"Okay," Harry said.
Harry took Hedwig's cage from Hermione, along with the Phoenix before grabbing one end of the trunk. Hermione, with his Firebolt in hand, grabbed the other end.
"Ready?" he asked her.
"Yes."
"Okay…lift!" He said and pulled the trunk with Hermione simultaneously.
They made their way up the stairs slowly. Finally, when they were up on the second floor, Hermione led him a few feet down a hallway and opened a door on their right. "This is your room," she said as she helped him maneuver the trunk through the door.
When they dropped the trunk near a nice wardrobe made out of maple, Harry turned and examined his room. It was bigger than his room at the Dursleys' and held a double sized bed. There was also a desk underneath the window. He walked over and placed Hedwig's cage on it before taking in the pleasant cream colored walls and Berber carpet. "Nice."
Hermione shrugged. "It's not that interesting, I know, but it serves pretty well as a guest bedroom."
"No, it's great. Better than my room at the Dursleys'," he said and offered her a smile.
She went crimson. "I'm glad you liked it." She looked around. "Where do you want your broomsticks?"
He did a slow circle in place. "How about there, in the corner?"
"That's fine," she said, taking the Phoenix from him and stowing both brooms in the corner of the room. "Ready for the rest of your tour?"
"Absolutely."
"Great. Let's go," she said, leading him out the door. "Across from you here is the loo. Down the hall there, is my room on the right and my parents' on the left."
"So, in other words, your room is next to mine?" he asked.
She nodded. "I'll show you my room later, if you'd like."
"Sure."
"Okay. Downstairs then," she said and led him back down the stairs. "This is the foyer, obviously. Through here," she said, leading him into a room off to the left, "is the den." She waved to her father, who was on the telephone. "Over here," she said, crossing the foyer, "is the sitting room."
Harry walked into a rather spacious room. There was a fireplace, along with a television, a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table. In each corner of the room was a floor lamp and there was another telephone on an end table. Towards the back of the room sat a piano.
"Hey, a piano," he said, grinning. "Do your parents play?"
"Oh, no," Hermione replied rather airily. "They got that for me."
"You? I didn't know you could play."
"Oh, I'm really rusty. I haven't played since…since my grandmother died. I haven't felt like it," she said quietly.
"I see." It was then he noticed several framed pictures on the fireplace mantle. He walked over to view them better.
Several of them were Hermione at different ages. One had her on a tricycle around the age of three while another had her in the lap of an older woman when she was about seven. There was another one of her in her Hogwarts uniform, right before she had left for Hogwarts. The most up-to-date one of her, Harry noticed, was actually a family photo with her and her parents.
Also on the mantle were two photos of two older couples, one with the same old woman that Hermione had sat on the lap of. The other one featured a stern looking man and a rosy cheeked gray-haired woman.
"Are these-"
"My grandparents, yes," Hermione said, nodding. "That's my Grandpa and Grandma Granger." She gestured towards the picture with the stern looking man. "They're the ones who came to visit last Easter. And these two are my Grandma and Grandpa Lowell."
Harry studied the face of Hermione's beloved grandmother. "She looks like she was a very kind person."
"She was. She was the best," Hermione said sadly, but then held her head up high. "But let's not talk about that. This is supposed to be a fun summer, not one full of memories and sorrow."
He nodded. "Yeah." He grinned at the photos of her. "Boy, you've always had that bushy hair, haven't you?"
She laughed. "Yes. At least I got rid of those horrible fangs," she said, studying her features in the pictures.
"Fangs?"
"I was hideous back then…still am," she muttered.
Harry chuckled. "You are and were far from hideous," he told her. "You've always been quite cute."
She blushed a brilliant shade of red. "Oh stop, Harry."
"It's true," he said.
She shook her head, but she was smiling. "You think I'm ugly-admit it."
He laughed. "I'd be lying if I said that." He took her hands in his and pulled her closer. "You're beautiful," he murmured and felt his lips inch closer and closer to hers.
"Lunchtime!" Mrs. Granger suddenly called from the kitchen.
Both of them stood up straight. Hermione was pink in the face and couldn't quite look at him. "Erm-let's finish the tour quickly."
"Yeah, okay," Harry said, trying to hide his disappointment.
*****
After a round of wonderful tuna sandwiches, Hermione led Harry back upstairs to show him her room. As they entered the lilac colored room, Harry suddenly felt awkward.
"Your parents don't mind that I'm in here, do they?" he asked her.
"Oh, they probably would, especially if they knew how close we are." She cleared her throat. "But it's not like they'd know if you've been in here or not once Monday comes."
"What do you mean?"
"They'll be returning to work. Full-time jobs as dentists take up quite a bit of their week. We'll hardly see them," she said.
He frowned. "Does that bother you?"
She shook her head. "No. Actually, I quite enjoy the peace and quiet. It gives me time to read."
He laughed. "Like you need more time to do that," he teased.
She gave him a playful shove before crossing over to her bed and sitting down. He followed her, but pulled out her desk chair instead to sit on. He finally gave the room his full attention. Her bed, on the wall opposite the door, was also a double. She had a rather large wardrobe near the corner and two windows, under which one was the desk Harry was sitting at. In another corner was a huge bookcase, completely full of books. So very Hermione, he decided.
There were also pictures scattered about her room, but not the still Muggle type that were downstairs in the sitting room. They were wizarding pictures that moved. Harry saw that he was in quite a few of them, as was Ron. On her desk, right next to him, were two pictures: one of him, her, and Ron, and another of just him and her.
"Speaking of Monday," Hermione went on, sighing, "I hope you've got some dress robes with you."
"Yeah. Why?" he asked.
"Percy's ceremony is Monday," she told him, frowning. "The Weasleys have been holding it off until we got permission from Dumbledore to bring you here. I think it's one of the reasons why he let you. He didn't want to pain the Weasleys by not letting them hold the proper ceremony for Percy."
"They didn't have to wait for me," he said, also frowning.
"They wanted to. They consider you family, Harry," she said.
"Yeah, I know." He slouched in the chair. "How are we getting to the Burrow?"
"Oh, we aren't," she said. "It's being held at the Ministry of Magic, probably because Percy loved it there so much."
"And how are we getting there?" he asked.
"Dumbledore mentioned setting up a channel in the Floo network for us."
His eyes widened. "You've spoken to Dumbledore?"
"Briefly," she replied. "He came over to…Death Eater proof the house, I guess."
He gave her a confused look. "Huh?"
"He placed some charms on the house to protect it in case Voldemort sends somebody to kill you," she said. "I hope we don't have to worry about whether or not they work."
"If Dumbledore cast them, they'll work," Harry said. He had every ounce of confidence in his headmaster's abilities.
"I'm sure they will," she said. There was an uncomfortable silence between them then. "Erm-what do you want to do?" she asked.
"Oh, I don't care," he said, giving a jerky shrug. "What do you feel like doing?"
"We could-er-I could help you with your homework," she said, frowning.
It was the last thing Harry wanted to do, but he nodded his head anyway. "Yeah, that sounds good," he fibbed. "It will be nice to have it all out of the way for the summer."
"What do you have left to do?" she asked him.
"Er-Astronomy, that short Care of Magical Creatures essay Hagrid gave us, and…oh, that History of Magic essay. Why didn't I drop that class?" he muttered.
"Let's do the History of Magic essay. It's not that hard," she said.
"To you, maybe it wasn't."
She laughed. "Oh, Harry-I gave you some valuable studying techniques during our tutoring sessions, didn't I?"
"Yes, but that still doesn't mean that doing these boring essays have become easier," he said.
"Well, that's why I'm here. Come on, let's get your books."
*****
Hermione kept him busy for the rest of the day, and for most of Sunday too, working on his homework. But finally, before dinner on Sunday evening, he finished his Astronomy essay and star charts.
"Thanks, Hermione," he said gratefully. "You've been a big help. For the life of me I couldn't remember whether Metis was a moon of Jupiter or Saturn."
She grinned. "Remember, Jupiter ate Metis and from his head sprouted Minerva."
He shuddered. "Don't make me think of Professor McGonagall sprouting from somebody's head."
She laughed. "Sorry."
At dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Granger talked a little bit about work before asking Harry and Hermione their plans for the week. Harry, having no idea, let Hermione answer.
"Tomorrow we have to go to Percy's ceremony," she said, "but after that we'll just play things by ear."
"Well, if you ever need any money, let me know," Mr. Granger said. "I wouldn't want lack of funding to get in the way of you two having an outstanding summer."
Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Dad."
Harry felt his insides squirm, however. He really didn't want the Grangers to spend money on him. Especially not when, if he could somehow manage to go to Gringotts and exchange his money for Muggle currency, he'd be able to pay for everything himself.
"You will tell the Weasleys for us that we're terribly sorry for their loss, won't you?" Mrs. Granger asked. She shook her head. "I can't imagine losing my child."
Hermione frowned. "I will, Mum, don't worry."
"You never really did tell us how he died, Hermione," Mr. Granger said.
Her frown deepened. "He died in the line of duty," she said simply.
"Was he some sort of police officer?" Mrs. Granger asked.
"No," Hermione said shortly. "But he responded to a dangerous situation that had developed."
"Brave, wasn't he?" Mr. Granger commented.
"Braver than we previously thought," Hermione said quietly.
Both of her parents eyed her thoughtfully for a moment, frowning. Harry found it to be uncanny in a way. Then Mr. Granger cleared his throat.
"So, you'll be traveling by that powdery stuff tomorrow, right?" he asked.
"Yes, Floo Powder. Professor Dumbledore was kind enough to leave us some before he left," Hermione said. "It will be good to see Ron and Ginny again."
"You saw them a few weeks ago," Mrs. Granger said.
Hermione smiled slightly. "That's enough time for me to miss them."
"Do you miss them, Harry?" Mrs. Granger asked him.
He shrugged. "Sure. But then again, I start missing all my friends not ten seconds after we part ways at King's Cross."
Mrs. Granger gave him a warm smile. "Well aren't you sweet."
Harry laughed. "Sweet? Maybe. Loyal? Definitely."
"And protective, caring, intelligent, brave, skilled…just to name a few more characteristics," Hermione piped in.
"Intelligent?" Harry scoffed. "Hardly."
"Says he who could conjure a Patronus at the age of thirteen," she said idly.
Mrs. Granger gave him a curious look. "What's a Patronus?"
"It's really complicated magic, Mum," Hermione explained. "A Patronus represents all of the caster's happiness and it drives away such dark creatures as a Dementor or a Lethifold."
Both Mr. and Mrs. Granger gazed bemusedly at their daughter and then at each other. "I think you lost us, sweetie," Mr. Granger said.
Hermione frowned. "The point is, Harry could conjure one at the age of thirteen and was the person who taught me how to do it when we were fifteen."
"I'm sure, had you tried, you would have been able to master it earlier," Harry said, giving her a slight grin. "You never needed my help."
"But you do concede the point that you are intelligent, don't you?"
"Intelligent enough to walk, talk, eat, and perform all other functions that allow me to live," he said, nodding.
She rolled her eyes. "Stubborn."
"Another one of my lovely characteristics that you've been trying to point out."
"Apparently I forgot to mention witty."
"Apparently."
"Go back to your food, Harry."
"Is that an order?" he challenged.
She took a bite of her food. "It's a suggestion-before it gets cold."
"Ah, of course. Ever the practical one." He picked up his fork and started back in on his meal.
After dinner, Mr. Granger suggested playing a card game. Feeling rather amicable, Harry agreed instantly. Harry, Hermione, and her parents spent several hours playing games such as Rummy, Euchre, Hearts, and a long game of War. By the time they finished, Harry felt ready for bed.
He yawned. "I think I'll turn in for the night, seeing as we've got an important day tomorrow," he said, nodding towards Hermione.
"Of course, dear," Mrs. Granger said, shuffling the deck.
"Actually, that sounds like a good idea," Hermione said. "This was fun though."
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Thanks for teaching me how to play Rummy."
"It was our pleasure," Mr. Granger said. "Have a good night's sleep, both of you."
"Thanks, Dad," Hermione said, turning towards the foyer.
"Good night," Harry said and quickly followed Hermione.
It happened just as he started to head up the stairs. The pain was so intense that it dropped him to his knees as he cried out, clutching his scar.
"Harry!" Hermione cried, rushing back down the stairs and to his side.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger ran in from the sitting room. What Mr. Granger asked, and what Hermione answered, Harry did not know as he was still yelling. But he did feel Hermione's arm wrap around his shoulders from behind as she stopped him from collapsing completely onto the floor.
Suddenly, a voice screamed in his head as he screamed the words out himself. "No! My immortality! My bloodline! MY SON!" And he knew no more as darkness overtook him.