A/N: First up, thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. Second, I know you have a lot of questions, I'm proud to know it worked, and I can assure you that the answers will be coming in subsequent chapters.
In this one, what can I say, here are the twins, and excuse my French. And extra, a bit of karma for the Dursleys.
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine, except for this plot I happen to love a little bit, and the children and one teacher mentioned here.
~*~*~*~
The Beauxbatons Transfers
"Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques,"
"Are you sleeping, are you sleeping?"
Dormez-vous, dormez-vous?
"Brother John, Brother John?"
Sonnez les matines, sonnez les matines,
"Morning bells are ringing, morning bells are ringing,"
"Din-don-din, din-don-din!"
"Ding-dong-ding, ding-dong-ding!"
The fifth harmonised rendition of the nursery rhyme had barely ended when suddenly Madame Fontaine screamed in exasperation, "Jumelles! Enfants terribles! Be quiet! Can't you see Monsieur Hagrid is trying to steer?"
The song ended immediately, only for them to burst out laughing. Even Hagrid at the helm of the little boat, now slowly taking them across the lake to Hogwarts, had to chuckle a little. Mme Fontaine was furious.
"Zis is not funny! No one said zat we would be sailing to zee school! And in ze dark! Maia, Aimee!" she scolded and this time they fell silent completely.
They had been singing the rhyme, begun as humming, turned to song and then rising in volume, since they first stepped into the little boat fifteen minutes before. Hagrid had actually not minded them much, coming all the way from France earlier that day, they had to be tired, and bored. But Mme Fontaine, their French chaperone, was not at all forgiving.
She looked decidedly uncomfortable amongst their luggage in the back of the dinghy. She was probably not one for sailing, so their attempt to amuse themselves just grated on her nerves. But they were still some ways off from the school.
The white marble tomb of Professor Dumbledore glistened in the faint light of the crescent moon, while the yellow lights of Hogwarts castle twinkled brightly in the dark, beckoning them home. The strange forest that surrounded the lake on the grounds of the school was quietest tonight, and the boat's occupants could just make out the sound of centaur hooves trampling the undergrowth. The glass-like placid lake beneath them meant that their ride so far had been nothing more than a swift glide to the opposite shore. But then, ever so often, a slick tentacle of the Giant Squid would break the surface-to the utter horror of Mme Fontaine, and the silent awe of the girls-bringing with it a soft music like the mermaid's song.
These things though, could only hold the girls' attention for so long. And presently, once the quiet had settled long enough, Maia started singing again.
"Row-row-row your boat,
Gently down the stream.
Merrily-merrily-merrily-merrily,
Life is but a dream."
And then her sister joined her, and the harmonising began again and with it their voices rising in crescendo, and Hagrid began humming with them too… and Mme Fontaine screamed, "Jumelles!"
Hagrid chuckled to himself the rest of the way to shore.
Standing at the massive double-doors of Hogwarts castle, awaiting the new arrivals, Ron wondered what could be keeping them. He could barely find the tiny lamplight of the boat, a yellow pinprick in the murky expanse of the lake, and once or twice so far, he was very sure he had heard a woman's scream. He knew Hagrid wouldn't let anyone fall, and even if they did the Giant Squid would return them, but still it was worrying.
Behind him, in the Great Hall, the students were slowly settling in for a special feast. Professor McGonagall, as Headmistress, had insisted they have a smaller version of their annual Sorting Ceremony for the transfers despite it being just the two. No one complained, any excuse to feast was most welcome, and the two new students would be greeted as they always greeted First Years every year. However, there was one major difference from the norm; the two new students would be entering Second Year instead of First.
According to the information he had received from Professor McGonagall, the two girls were a pair of British-born identical twins, who had been living in France with their Aunt Amaranthe since they were six years old. Just two weeks ago, shortly after their Second Year at Beauxbatons began, their aunt died suddenly in their home in Nice. With no mention of parents, or any other relatives for the children to go to, the school had begun arrangements to find a home for them during the summer, or put them in an orphanage. And this was when a letter from their father arrived stating that the girls were to return to England. No amount of wrangling, protests, or complaints could change his mind, his decision was final and this was why Ron was standing here now, searching in the dark for a small boat's light.
Footsteps on the cold, stone floor alerted him to the approach of another and Ron turned to see Professor McGonagall, as stern, thin-faced and greying as ever, approaching. He straightened his posture immediately, and she smiled, "Professor Weasley, I assure you that you won't receive detention for bad posture, just a misshapen spine."
He visibly relaxed and replied, "Old habits die hard… um, I can't see the boat, but I think I heard a woman scream, singing and laughter… something very strange is going on out there."
"I'm very sure that Hagrid won't let anything happen to them," she replied, still smiling that rare smile, and then asked seriously, "What happened at Miss Granger's birthday party, when you came back here, I received reports of unnecessary grumpiness?"
Ron let his own, slight amusement fall away and looked out again at the lake, and finally spotted the lamplight of the boat. They were almost to shore.
He replied, "It was fine. But my mother gave her something… a photo album of us during the war, had Caspar give it to her… Hermione thanked them but then she started crying…. The last time I saw Hermione, it was at Krum's funeral, and she wasn't crying then… one mention of Harry and she just…"
His voice trailed off, Professor McGonagall took over, "Am I to assume she was equally surprised at your son's name?"
This brought his smile back, albeit temporarily, "Yeah, Luna had to call him over to meet her, she said she looked… frightened."
He didn't want to say "as if she'd been attacked by Nargles", Professor McGonagall, like Hermione, wasn't altogether too fond of Luna's oddities.
She seemed to know very well what he had refrained from saying, but didn't comment as she replied, "First her best friend, then her husband… I'd say Molly's gift was a little thoughtless, but Hermione will be fine. No one is sorted into the house of Godric Gryffindor because the Hat was bored…. But tell me, how are you doing?"
The question surprised him, since he had taken up the Defence post at Hogwarts three years ago, this was the first time she had ever asked about his well-being. He replied anyway, "I'm fine… seeing Hermione again was just… it was good, we've been apart too long, we never should have split up."
The sentence held a deeper meaning that didn't escape McGonagall; she told him, "I assure you Mr Weasley, that Mr Potter would have never suggested it at the last moment if he didn't think it was best. And I know you know it too."
"Best for whom, Hermione and me? We didn't have much of a relationship before, when I got hurt it worsened, we drifted apart… by the end of the war it was over. Splitting up was the end of it, I just had to look at Hermione's face and I knew… Harry was just being noble and stupid," Ron said, then stopped and sighed. Professor McGonagall allowed the silence to descend.
And then she looked past Ron to the small quartet coming up the banks, with various pieces of floating luggage behind them, and exclaimed, "What… in the name of Merlin!"
Ron, who had turned back to her as she spoke, looked once more down to the lake's edge and found the reason.
The boat had begun to head off to the boatshed, Hagrid was leading the way up to the school with the girls' chaperone, and the girls would occasionally appear from behind the half-giant's bulk to look up at the castle. At one point he heard a soft mew, one of the girls was carrying something in a small box, most likely a cat, and then at another point they stopped and looked across to Dumbledore's tomb. Hagrid began leading them on again, the woman speaking quickly, alternating between French and English, (thank goodness for Fleur and Madame Maxime) and the girls went on ahead of them. But clearest of all in the dark night, the one thing that had captured Professor McGonagall's attention was that the girls were not dressed in Hogwarts' robes. As a matter of fact, they were dressed in pale blue silk, with heeled shoes and tilted hats, and for warmth, there was only a small travelling cloak on their shoulders: the trademark uniform of the Beauxbatons Academy.
Professor McGonagall was livid.
But she kept her cool as the girls got to the steps, ran up to greet them and one of them said, "Bonne nuit professeurs, je suis Maia, c'est mon soeur Aimée, nous somme jumelles."
The second twin nudged the first, whispered sharply, "In English!" then turned to them and said, "Good night, I'm Aimee Black and this is my sister Maia, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Ron looked them over in the light that flowed out through the open doors to the steps. The one, who had spoken first, Maia, was slightly skinny, with a round face, almond-shaped honey-brown eyes and a head of long, thick black hair now set into a ponytail that fell down her back. The twin she indicated, Aimee, was her perfect reflection, and dressed as they were, if not for their help, he could not tell one from the other.
They were like Fred and George, only younger, dark-haired and female.
Professor McGonagall replied, "Good night girls, welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… do you have your uniforms?"
The second twin spoke again, "Oui madam, but Mme Fontaine told us not to change yet."
The moment she said it, Ron knew that she had made a mistake, and she must have sensed it too, for Professor McGonagall set her mouth in a thin line and the girl quickly turned round to find her chaperone and Hagrid. Mme Fontaine was blissfully unaware of the danger though, and called up the stairs, "Jumelles! Do not just stand zere! `Ave you forgotten your manners, say `Good night'!"
Maia replied quickly, "We already did, we were waiting for you."
She said nothing to this, continued on up to the doors and addressed them both, "Madame McGonagall, and Professor, I am Madame Gwendoline Fontaine, zee chaperone from L'Académie Beauxbatons. As you were informed, zees are zee transfers, Maia and Aimee Black… I take it zee arrangements for zem `ave been made?"
She spoke so formally and directly to the point, that Professor McGonagall's anger seemed to deflate a bit, but only just, as she replied, "Yes, they have been…. But I am sure that you received our letter concerning the rules, why are the girls not dressed in uniform?"
"Oh, zat…" said Mme Fontaine looking down at her charges who had begun to head down the stairs again to Hagrid and their trunks.
Their skirts and cloaks fluttered slightly in a sudden night wind, and Aimee's, or possibly Maia's, scarf unwound itself from her neck. Hagrid caught it before it went away.
"We travelled zis morning directly from Beauxbatons. Your robes are so `eavy and `ot, I could not ask zem to wear zem all zee way `ere," she replied, nonchalant.
Professor McGonagall's eyes flashed fire, "Where are their robes?"
"In zere trunks, of course," Mme Fontaine told her, still nonchalant and oblivious to Professor McGonagall's displeasure, "Zey can wear zem later."
When Professor McGonagall began to shake slightly in anger, Ron determined it best to step in, "Well that's done, let's get inside, it's very cold here, freezing! Um Maia… um… twins! You two midgets… I mean… yeah, let's get inside, it's freezing cold out here tonight!"
The girls turned at once at the sound of his voice, and came running up the stairs again, and this time leading their luggage by their wands. Hagrid brought up the rear holding two long, wrapped packages that could be nothing more than brooms, and the box with the cat.
Professor McGonagall suppressed her anger again long enough to let the girls and the half-giant to pass, before turning to their chaperone and saying curtly, "Well, I can see that your duties for the night are done, if you'll be on your way…"
Mme Fontaine snapped to attention at this, she finally seemed to notice Professor McGonagall's mood, and asked, "I `ave not yet seen to zee girls' settling in, or where zey shall stay until zere father finally appears, and `ow am I to get to zee gates, across zat lake by myself?"
"No, Professor Weasley here will take you, and then he'll return quickly for the Sorting, the students are getting restless. We'll make sure that the girls are settled, and their father, considering that he contacted you to send them here, I am sure he will contact us eventually. A former student no doubt, no trouble at all," Professor McGonagall replied tersely.
Mme Fontaine looked greatly affronted, turned away from Professor McGonagall and called to the girls, "Adieu, Maia, Aimée, remember what I told you, if you need anything at all, owl me at once."
A parting shot and the only thing she could do.
The girls stopped mid-conversation with Hagrid and turned to her to nod. For the first time since they arrived-and considering he had not seen them for that long-Ron could see hesitation in their eyes, almost fear. He could not begin to imagine what they were feeling then, being ripped from one school and transplanted into another, unfamiliar, and alone.
But he had to be grateful it was not the derision Fleur had first had towards the school. Maybe they hadn't been at Beauxbatons long enough.
His eyes fell on their trunks just then, and for the first time he noticed something rather odd. But before he could further inspect it, Mme Fontaine said, "Shall we Professor?"
He turned to lead her out, she bid Professor McGonagall a short "Good night", took one last, longing look at the girls-who were now very quiet standing with Hagrid-and left with him.
The massive doors closed behind them at once, she started slightly and then asked, "Are we going across zee lake again?"
"No, that was only for the girls, we're walking to the gate down there," Ron replied absently.
Her eyes widened, "You mean zere was a shorter way across?"
Ron was too busy thinking to smile.
He couldn't be sure, and maybe it was just his imagination, but on the girls' trunks, embossed in gleaming silver, he spied what looked like a very familiar object. When last he had seen something like it he was seventeen years old and going off to fight with Harry.
It was a family crest, of an old, pure-blooded family whose line had died out over a year before then. Whose last son had been the closest to his parents Harry would ever get alive, and as godfather, who had left him everything including a miserable old house-elf.
It was the crest of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.
~*~*~*~
"Mum, where do I put these?" asked Caspar, coming out of the study with yet another stack of gifts from her birthday party.
Hermione looked over at her son from her place in the adjacent library and said, "In the closet in the hall… Caspar you should leave those things alone, I'll move them when I have the time… and I can do magic."
Caspar gave a sigh and whined, "Mummy! You know you'll never move them if I don't, you're always too busy doing something else! It's all been lying in there all week."
She narrowed her eyes at him, "Excuse me, young man?"
He put on a cherubic grin, she shook her head and gave in, "Carry on Caspar, just don't break anything."
As he disappeared along the hall Hermione returned her attention to what she had been doing since she arrived that night from St Mungo's, looking through the photo album.
Before, she had promised herself that she would make a show of looking at it for Caspar, smile and thank Mrs Weasley whenever she saw her again, but never really look at it.
But she couldn't.
Four days from her birthday, somehow, someway, Hermione found herself drawn to it when she didn't need to be. When she knew she shouldn't be.
She would not admit to herself that she had rushed home from work that night just to look at it. She could not do that, it would mean that she actually wanted to hurt, to feel her heart seize, to feel a stab of guilt every time she turned a page and saw a picture of Harry. Hermione Granger simply was not a sadist.
But then she was.
She needed to see Harry's face, to see him doing something other than not being around. She needed to berate herself for sometimes wishing-in the deepest, darkest depths of her mind that was-that he was Caspar's father and not Krum. She needed to remember those times when they were "happy" and no one could hurt them and no one knew where they were. She needed to think that everything was alright and that the past eleven years had happened differently. And she needed to ask every picture a simple question, "How do I let you go?"
Four years after the war's end, she thought she had achieved that, when, after finally ending her relationship with Ron, she started going out.
Ron, at first, would drag her to parties while he stalked… no, observed… Luna Lovegood, and eventually she started going on her own. She made new friends, she saw her family more often, and she tried to ignore that part of her that wished she didn't have to. And then she met Viktor Krum at another party Ron had "dragged" her to.
When last they had seen each other, she had been fifteen and he was the eighteen year old Quidditch star come to the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He had ended their relationship just before returning to Bulgaria then because he felt her attentions were elsewhere. She didn't know how to tell him "Of course, someone was trying to kill my best friend."
At twenty-five though, facing the twenty-eight year old Viktor, she knew what he had meant then. But thankfully for them both, she didn't have a reason to be distracted anymore.
He had had a girlfriend of sorts at the time, but within two weeks that was done and Hermione took her place. She refused to feel guilty about that. And then it took them less than eight months to be engaged. She refused to listen to everyone's complaints that it was too soon, or that part of her mind that knew she didn't completely feel the way he did. She would, and did, learn to love him, and when Caspar was born that sealed it for her.
For the next six years they were that lovely celebrity couple everyone speculated about but no one really knew. Away from her family and friends in Bulgaria she lived another life, and could forget. But it wasn't to last.
As much as she would never forget the sight of Harry rushing off into the forest eleven years ago, she would never forget Viktor flying away two years ago to start a game that would end in his death.
She closed her eyes and tried to clear her thoughts. When she opened them again she was twisting her wedding ring on her finger. She didn't know why she couldn't take it off, but she would deal with that later. One thing at a time, let go of Harry, and then let go of Viktor.
Looking down to the photo album again, she tried to focus on the page for the night. Since she was going to look at it, and she wasn't a sadist, she would do it one page at a time.
So far, in looking at the album, she was very clear on the fact that she did not remember taking these pictures. Most were at the Burrow, and one or two in the ever morbid Grimmauld Place, but she didn't remember them. When she had calmed enough, she had once asked Mrs Weasley when they were taken and she had told her after she had gotten hurt. Hermione barely recalled getting hurt in the first place so this didn't help at all.
Tonight's pictures were at the Burrow, it was late winter, and she and Harry were thickly bundled up in the company of a shaggy, black dog. Mrs Weasley had scribed, "Harry, Hermione, Alastair, January 28th, 1999" underneath so she knew it wasn't Sirius, but she didn't remember ever having a dog. Frankly speaking, she knew she would never just get one either for Crookshanks would have killed her the moment he caught the scent of one… and what happened to Hedwig?
As she sat puzzling now, all thoughts of Harry and Viktor gone out the window, Caspar reappeared bearing two gifts, one brightly wrapped and another in plain brown paper. He said, "These are the last two, I found one under the table, where do I put them, there's not enough space in the closet."
Hermione came alert at this, "Not enough room… did you just shove everything in there?"
He once again put on his best innocent face and she sighed, "Come on, I'll help you… goodness Caspar, do you have to be so messy? Neither Viktor nor I were, where are you getting these bad habits from?"
She rose from the desk and went out to help him, leaving the album open on behind her. Moments later, she exclaimed, "Oh my… Caspar Anton Krum!" at the sight of the mess he had made. But she had gone from the desk too soon.
The last picture on the page she was perusing, was of her and Harry walking through the orchard on a slightly windy afternoon. The photographer had caught them unaware, and not only that, just as a slight wind blew through the orchard shaking some snow down unto them. Harry tried to shake it off, but Hermione chose to dance, until Harry took her hand and they twirled. And in the midst of their twirling, if she had been there then, she would have noticed her odd, slight paunch.
~*~*~*~
By the time Ron returned to the castle, having delivered Mme Fontaine not only to the gate but Hogsmeade station as well, he had forgotten all about the crest on the trunks. He was too busy ranting about her making him take her to the station and miss the beginning of the feast. As a matter of fact, when finally he got in and to his seat at the staff table the Sorting was just about to begin.
Professor McGonagall allowed him the time to take his place, between Professor Julius Theoden, the new Slytherin Head of House and Potions Master (thankfully a more agreeable personality than Snape ever was) and Professor Padma Patil, as pretty as ever, the new Charms Professor to replace the retired Flitwick. (She took advantage of every opportunity to rib him about their Fourth Year Yule Ball "date".) Tonight she smiled, leaned over and whispered, "Where were you?"
"I had to deliver the girls' chaperone, were they Sorted yet?" he replied.
Professor Theoden, a tall, lean, balding, stone-grey eyed and sharp-nosed man, who had been listening whispered, "No, just about to in fact, you missed the song… same old, same old."
Ron resettled himself and Professor McGonagall, after glaring at him, nodded to Professor Sprout who stood in front centre with the Hat, a stool and a short list and read, "Black, Aimee."
At this point Ron, still gathering his bearings for coming in late, finally noticed the girls. They had been seated at a small table at the front, left hand side of the staff table with the Head Boy and Girl, still in their Beauxbatons uniform, but wearing apparently borrowed Hogwarts robes over it. One had already replaced her Beauxbatons hat with the familiar Hogwarts black pointed one and the other, apparently Aimee, removed hers as she rose from the table.
With a hesitant look back to her sister, she walked steadily over to Professor Sprout and the Sorting Hat, and climbed unto the stool. Once she was seated, the Hat was placed on her head and a hush descended over the room.
If Ron looked to every table in the room then, and this included the Slytherins, he was quite sure he would find them all anxiously awaiting the decision.
Amongst the Gryffindors, the look on the face of his nephew Philippe stated it clearly. The cobalt blue eyes of the boy were trained directly on girl on the stool, ignorant to a friend messing his reddish-blonde hair behind him. Ron would never admit to Fleur how sometimes her son unnerved him when he did that in class. The Third Year's usually good grades from this concentration usually overrode that.
Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were of no real interest to him, save for one shocker in Ravenclaw. A slightly plump, blonde-haired, pink-cheeked and very rouge-lipped little First Year by the name of Rosalie Dursley, who was now staring with curiosity at the proceedings oblivious to his gaze.
He was still in so much shock over the fact that this little girl was the biological, natural born daughter of one Dudley Dursley, known wizard-hater and Muggle boxer that he was yet to summon the courage to tell his wife, self say Hermione of her existence.
Of course, the Daily Prophet expose on Harry's childhood might do it for him soon enough.
In the Slytherins the only person of interest was a very beautiful black girl in the Second Year, Rhiannon Zabini. Blaise Zabini, according to Ginny, had somehow managed to stop posing long enough to find someone equally as arrogant as he and then too to produce a child with. No surprise came from the fact that his wife happened to be rich, pureblood and almost as famous for her beauty as his mother had been. Luckily for her too, she was still alive.
Rhiannon was not looking at the Sorting now, but directly up at him instead so that he cut his gaze back to the Hat. The two of them were not the best of friends, he could imagine the reports she sent back to her father.
And just then the Hat bellowed, "GRYFFINDOR!" so that Aimee started a bit in her seat, nearly falling off, and the Slytherins, including Rhiannon, laughed. The applause from the Gryffindor table though, drowned them out as Aimee recovered, solemnly made her way to their table, and was immediately descended upon by her curious new housemates. Philippe and a friend were the first to her side, her apprehension at this in no way a deterrent.
Maia's turn, she cautiously headed over to the Hat, with an encouraging look from her sister-finally able to fight off those around her-and sat on the stool. The Hat on her head, a hush descended again and Ron could almost see Aimee willing it to be Gryffindor too. Padma leaned over again to whisper, "I hope they're not split up, Parvati and I were always different but that just seemed to make it worse sometimes."
"What if they're like Fred and George?" asked Ron and Padma made a face.
"That would be a disaster, okay, split them up," she replied. Both he and Theoden laughed.
Her second wish was granted when a second later the Hat bellowed, "HUFFLEPUFF!" and Maia, slightly confused, was up and heading off to a table across the room from her sister. The obvious disappointment on her face quickly masked as she was surrounded by her new housemates as her sister had been before. Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Gryffindor collectively groaned.
"Tcha, I was right the first time," said Padma, as they looked at the twins, now trying to spy each other over the heads of the others.
"They'll be fine," said Ron, "one's in a tower, the other's in the basement, it's not as if we've dragged them from their parents, out of their home and to another country. By Monday they'll be just two more of the crowd."
-->