A/N: Hello, hello! So, I know I ought to updating "Powers of Persuasion" and I hate writing two fics at the same time, but I needed this to help me out of where I've cornered myself. As you will see, this chapter is mostly in Hermione's pov, but it'll change back and forth as we go. So this is just a little do, maybe three or four chapters. I haven't really broken it down, but I felt like writing and posting, so there.
Disclaimer: I constantly forget these. Therefore I will say this once and only once for this fic and hope that it extends through the rest of it. I don't own Harry Potter or anything else. I own nothing. Niente. Nada.
Another Witch in the Family
Chapter 1~~~ Since You're Not Doing Anything…
"Hermione, dear, are you still there? Edward, I think there's something wrong with the phone…No, I can't hear a thing-Hermione, darling, please answer, you're scaring Mummy-"
"Sorry, Mum," the twenty one year old finally replied, still blinking her eyes in wonderment. "I must have misunderstood you, did you say-"
Again Hermione held the receiver away from her ear as her mother let out a very uncharacteristic squeal. "Yes! I got the call from your cousin Mary this morning. Imagine, another witch in the family!"
Hermione was grateful that she had finally convinced Harry and Ron to put a chair next to where the phone sat on a table in the hall, for she greatly needed its supporting cushion now. Her mother's bi-weekly calls came like clockwork, but the difference in this one was that it bore some rather unusual news.
Mary had always been Hermione's favorite cousin, mostly in the sense that she envied her normal-sounding name with its minimal syllables and low employment of vowel sounds as well as her straight and glossy golden hair. Growing up, Mary seemed to embody everything that was sophisticated and graceful, when Hermione, eight years her junior, was still growing into her body and coming to terms with her bushy, boring brown hair.
Not that the envy extended both ways. Though Mary was not exactly an academic, she was clever, and she often used her biting wit to torment Hermione in the way that children do. But the malice Hermione saw so frequently behind those piercing blue orbs cut deeper than any foul name or jest uttered from the older girl's lips. It was by those eyes too that Hermione felt so exposed, as though she had been turned inside out and all of her emotions and feelings were being carefully studied. Perhaps that's what makes her such an effective scientist, Hermione thought ruefully. I was her first specimen.
Indeed it was after the first bits of uncontrolled accidental magic, triggered by the embarrassment of Mary's taunting, that Hermione felt the most scrutinized by Mary's sharp and probing eyes. When Hermione went off to Hogwarts it was practically salvation; she told herself that in Scotland she wouldn't constantly be plagued with the feelings of inadequacy and insecurity that Mary seemed to effortlessly awaken in her. At least that was what she hoped. It was hard to imagine that a feud could develop between two girls so far apart in age, but the reasoning behind Mary's obvious disdain for Hermione remained a mystery to that very day, when Helen Granger called to break the news to her unsuspecting daughter.
"Honestly, Hermione, are you even listening?" came her mother's impatient voice.
"Sorry, Mum," Hermione repeated automatically. "I'm just a little surprised, that's all. I mean, I'm happy for Mary I suppose-if she's happy, that is. How does her daughter feel about all of this?"
Helen laughed and seemed satisfied that Hermione's previous bout of silence was purely due to surprise and not some less than happy memories. "Little Katie is very excited, yes, probably as much as you were when you turned eleven, though I doubt she's cleaned out Oxford's main library yet like you nearly did."
Then her voice took on that motherly tone that Hermione recognized as a sign of an impending guilt trip. "And that's what I wanted to talk to you about, dear. I'm sure Mary would have called you herself, but she's been very busy lately, and well, you're not doing anything are you?"
Hermione bit back the instant defensive retort and said in a determinedly calm voice, "Mum, you know I can't tell you what I'm doing."
There was a little huff on the other end of the line and Hermione rolled her eyes, her voicing taking on the same impatience that her mother had shown only minutes before. "Honestly, Mum! I'm an Unspeakable! It means I can't exactly tell you what I get up to!"
"But Harry and Ron know, do they," Mrs. Granger said petulantly.
Hermione's forced calm disintegrated at once. "No, Mum, we're not getting into this again. It's not anything personal, I can't tell anyone! Honestly!"
She heard a sigh from the other end. "Well, I guess we should be used to you keeping secrets from us by now," her mother replied, dropping her one trump card that she knew was bound to dredge up her daughter's guilt for her school-day transgressions, most of which the woman had learned of several years after the fact.
But Hermione wasn't taking the bait. Instead she retorted in as controlled a voice as she could muster, "If you had known everything that I was doing, would you have let me return to Hogwarts?" She heard with some satisfaction the swift intake of air before Mrs. Granger's reply of, "I suppose not… Touché."
And just like that, Hermione's anger ebbed away through every one of her pores, effectively deflating her, but not in a way that was unwelcome. Hermione remembered countless arguments from her teenage years resolving in a similar manner, with that one simple phrase: "Touché." Once that word passed your lips, you'd admitted defeat and conceded to your opponent. It had become a sort of game for Hermione and her mother, to see whose logic was mightier and better grounded. This was how Hermione knew she was a step closer to forgiveness for all of those years she had lied and used schoolwork as an excuse to get away from home-never mind that the time was usually spent ensuring Harry's survival as well as that of the wizarding world. But every step nearer to that destination, however small, would be worth it.
Hermione found that she didn't need to even force the smile as she asked, "Is that all you wanted to talk about?" Both women ignored the current of understanding that had just passed between them as they had numerous times before.
"Weeellll," Helen Granger began, reverting to that sweetly cajoling voice from before, "Like I said, Mary is very busy, and I thought 'who better to teach little Katharine the ropes, so to speak, than Hermione?' And since you aren't doing anything and you're the first magical one in the family, I figured you'd do so well at it. What do you think?"
Hermione's smile dropped instantly from her face as she pictured the three-foot high stack of files in her 'in' tray at work. There were labs to read though, experiments to monitor, not to mention that she was on call to report to the Ministry at all hours. She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to think of an excuse, but the determined voice of her conscience spoke up. Remember how curious you were about everything, and how the descriptions of people and places in books didn't do justice to meeting and seeing them in person? Maybe the whole experience would be less daunting for the girl if you were there to support her… It's not as if it's her fault that she's Mary's daughter any more than it's yours that you were born a witch-you shouldn't hold it against her, it added wisely.
Squaring her shoulders to solidify her decision, Hermione hoped to Merlin that she wasn't making a mistake. Her voice was strong when she responded, "I think that's a brilliant idea, Mum."
And so Hermione found herself dawning her cloak ("Better let her get used to seeing wizard garb," was her reasoning) the next morning. She had to walk past Harry's room to retrieve her handbag from her own, and she paused to tell him to get a move on since the train was due to leave in twenty minutes. She would thank him for agreeing to accompany her to Mary's house later; right now she was far too jumpy.
"I can't believe you let your mum talk you into this, Hermione," called Harry's voice from inside the t-shirt he was struggling to pull over his head. He met her in the family room where she was pacing back and forth near the fireplace and absently nibbling a nail on her left hand.
She seemed to come back from far away. "I just remembered how hard it was to find out that all those odd things about me were because of magic. Don't-" she said, point a finger at Harry, whose mouth had opened to form a smart reply.
He shrugged and the corners of his mouth quirked upward as he bent down to tie the laces on his trainers. "You just seem a little on edge, is all. Any particular reason?"
"I am a little apprehensive," she admitted. "It's just that I haven't seen Mary in, oh, four years I suppose, and a lot happened in those four years."
Harry nodded in understanding. A lot had happened: several destroyed Horcruxes, including the bit of Voldemort's very own soul, the rise and decline of her relationship with Ron, and the gradual returning of the old friendship dynamics that the trio shared before the incessant interference of You-Know-Who. Oh, and she had fallen in love with Harry, but no one was to know about that. Hermione certainly spent a great deal of time and energy squashing those feelings to the depths of oblivion, only allowing them to the surface for air when she was assuredly alone in the flat she shared with Harry, Ron, and occasionally Luna Lovegood.
"But she doesn't know about any of that, of course. I haven't a clue what my mum told her I do for a living, but because of the International Statute of Secrecy and all that, I know it wasn't anywhere near the truth," she sighed.
Harry shut and locked the door behind him as the pair started on their short walk from their flat to the train station. "Maybe she said you work at St. Brutus' School for Incurably Criminal Boys or some such rubbish," offered Harry, earning himself a playful squat in the arm and a genuine smile from Hermione.
Ten minutes later, after boarding the train and tucking themselves safely into one of the emptier compartments, Hermione reiterated her real concerns to Harry in a low voice. "You don't know what she's like, Harry. She doesn't even have to utter a word to reduce you to nothing. I thought I was grown up when I was seventeen, of age and all that. But when I saw her again that Christmas, everyone was alight that she was pregnant again and little Katharine was 'so smart just like her mum' and the only words said to me were questions of when I was going to settle down. That was just after Slughorn's party, and let me tell you, those comments did not go over well with me. I spent the entire time home apologizing to my mother for accidentally shattering my nana's entire collection of antique crystal stemware. She and Dad were that only ones that had known for sure I'd done it, but I felt Mary's eyes on me the entire evening as though she were accusing me. She's just so…awful!" declared Hermione passionately.
"Then let's hope that her daughter takes after her father," was all he said, though Hermione knew he understood where she was coming from. "What's he like?" asked Harry curiously.
Hermione frowned in thought. "I don't know how to describe him really, sort of not really there but not in the same sense that Luna isn't all there. Do you know what I mean?" At Harry's amused nod, she continued, "To be honest I think I've only talked to Jack-that's his name, Jack-a couple of times, and never more than small talk. He's tried to ask me about my school a few times, but obviously I couldn't tell him much. But to his credit, he never participated in those little verbal jabs that Mary used to disguise as simple observation."
It was Harry's turn to frown. "Like what?"
Rolling her eyes and adopting a shrill voice she spoke, "Oh, Hermione! Your teeth are so much straighter, they really take the focus off your hair!" She chuckled at how petty her cousin could be, and Harry, seeing that it was all right, joined her in coming up with more examples of these ill-laced compliments. It was a pleasant way to pass the time on the train ride and Harry seemed to agree with her.
"We don't do this enough," he asserted.
Hermione laughed and leaned farther into the cushion as the only other remaining passenger in the compartment passed her to exit. "What, ride the train? I would have thought that you and I would have had enough train adventures to last a lifetime," she joked.
In response Harry rolled his eyes at her affected obtuseness. "No, not train rides. This," he said, indicating with his hands the empty air between them. "Just hanging around and talking, we don't do it enough."
She opened her mouth to disagree; after all, how could two people who got along as well as the two of them and who lived together not find time to spend together? But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she and Harry had become working adults and the majority of the conversations they'd had as of late centered around who would able to do the shopping or if they would please not leave their dirty socks in the hall (the last one was usually directed at Ron though). Instead she said, "You're right, we don't do it enough."
Harry nodded again and Hermione suddenly found herself at a loss for words. It was one of those awkward moments when you feel that you should discuss something serious but can't for the life of you think what. And just like that, the moment was gone when Harry announced, "We're nearly there, I think."
He slid open the compartment door for her and she led the way off the train and toward her cousin Mary's house which, thankfully, was only a few blocks away. The pair slipped into a companionable silence that Hermione thought to fill with belated thanks for accompanying her. He dismissed it with a wave of his hand and asked, "Have you thought about what you're going to say to Mary about what your mum said?"
The last part of her conversation with her mother came back to her-chiefly, the part where she casually mentioned that Mary had seemed a bit put-out about the whole ordeal and still didn't understand why Hermione would be the perfect chaperone to her daughter. Only Hermione's parents, and now her nana after the crystal-shattering incident, knew of Hermione's magical ability, so that would have to be fully explained. And as for Mary's lack of enthusiasm about her only daughter's acceptance into the best school for witchcraft and wizardry ever created, Hermione thought it smelled strongly of Dursley, though she hadn't said as much to Harry.
As they rounded the corner on Mary's street and her house came into view, Hermione's eyes met Harry's and he gave her a 'here goes nothing' grin that felt keenly to her bones. In answer to his question, she replied, "I guess I'll just have to call it as I see it. Hopefully Mum was exaggerating some things a bit."
Harry lowered his voice as they got closer to the house and slowed their pace to ask, "Wait a second, if she wasn't exactly overjoyed to find that her daughter was a witch, why did Mary call your mum to tell her?"
Slowing their walk down to a leisurely stroll, she said, "I thought the same thing! Mum said that Mary hadn't originally explained exactly what kind of boarding school Hogwarts was, but of course Mum recognized the name and she had to admit the rest of it."
"So she was just calling to brag?" Harry asked behind a grin that turned Hermione's insides to water.
She shrugged lightly. "I guess so," she said, reaching forward to ring the bell of Mary's house.
As the door was being opened, Hermione poked Harry in the side to stop his laughing. He barely managed to arrange his face into an expression of reserved curiosity when the form of Mary Moore emerged from behind the front door. One of her eyebrows raised in distaste as her eyes raked them up and down and took in their cloaked appearance.
"Hermione, how nice to see you. Oh, and you've brought your boyfriend, have you?" Mary asked sweetly. Though her tone was civil enough, Hermione thought it was a deliberate goad to falsely assume that Harry was more than just her friend, especially since Mary and her mother had inevitably spent ten minutes of their conversation discussing Hermione's lack of prospects in that department as married women with single relatives or friends often do. Hermione didn't begrudge her mother that though; it was only natural for her to drudge up every bit of Hermione's personal life to family if it was in the hopes that Mary knew someone "Hermione's type" (which she described as "intellectual" when Hermione was in earshot, much to her chagrin, and "nerdy" when she wasn't), but Hermione was surprised that motherhood hadn't changed her cousin all that much from when they were children. Clearly, Mary still felt some kind of resentment toward her, even if she was doing her a favor.
Hermione was just about to force a greeting through clenched teeth when Harry threw his left arm around her shoulders and said politely, "That's right. I'm Harry Potter, nice to meet you." He held his right hand for Mary to shake, which she took and completed the introduction. Through her shock at Harry's bold action, which she would surely berate him for later, Hermione saw a glimpse of genuine incredulity in Mary's blue eyes. That alone seemed odd, when she seemed to spend so much energy pretending to have no emotions, but Hermione focused on keeping the pleasure from her face as seized Harry's hand as they entered the house and sat down in the living room. Best keep up with the charade, she told herself, though she would have been happy to hold his hand in any case.
He released her hand to indulge in the refreshments that Mary had laid out on the coffee table and while Hermione seemed to feel the absence of its warm support keenly, she noticed that he didn't try to surreptitiously wipe it off on his trousers before snatching the nearest scone. She realized with a guilty pang that she had hurried him out of the flat so quickly that morning that he had skipped breakfast.
"--the news?" Mary's voice said.
Shaking her head to banish her wayward thoughts, Hermione focused on her fair-haired cousin and repeated the only words that she'd heard from Mary's question. "The news?"
Mary seemed to think Hermione was being deliberately dim and her response was laced with slight irritation, "Yes, Hermione, the news about Katharine and Hogwarts. Your mum said that you would know all about it. Is that the school you vanished off to every year?"
Stirring her tea in slow clockwise circles, Hermione pondered just how to handle this. She decided not to beat around the bush. "I'm a witch if that's what you're asking." Mary nodded curtly, but Hermione did not give her a chance to reply. "Yes, I attended Hogwarts for six years as a matter of fact, and while I can readily claim that its magical education is unrivalled, I admit that most of the lessons I learned within those walls had little to do with magic."
Mary's blue eyes flickered over to Harry and he answered her unasked question. "Yep, I went there too. Fully fledged wizard over here." Hermione appreciated his humor, but judging by the pale face of her cousin, she guessed it was mostly lost on her.
A few moments of silence went by, and Hermione saw that Mary appeared to be struggling with herself. Finally she leaned forward and demanded somewhat desperately, "So it's real then? All of those things Katie does like levitating her food and making the lights flash when she's upset, those are all magic?"
Hermione nodded, feeling strangely compassionate to the woman who had so frequently teased her about the odd happenings that seemed to follow her around. Understanding suddenly dawned on Mary as though her thoughts had paralleled Hermione's. The older woman put a hand to her mouth and Hermione could barely make out the words, "I never realized…"
Once again Harry broke the awkward silence. "Those were just the uncontrolled bursts of magic, usually brought on by stress. If she goes to Hogwarts, she can be taught how to control and direct her magic through a wand."
Hermione could see that Mary was still re-living all of the odd occurrences that had happened throughout their childhood and was only half listening to what Harry was saying. Her piercing blue eyes looked up into Hermione's seemingly dull brown ones and for a moment Hermione saw a fleeting sign of apology before they shifted to Harry in confusion. "A wand?" she croaked in a strangled voice.
"A wand," he repeated. "Here, like this-" he said, fumbling in his cloak before Hermione stilled his arm.
"Let me," she said, whipping out her wand and silently casting the incantation to transform the teacup that Mary was holding into a large green and slimy toad. Mary let out a shrill squeal and promptly dropped it on her white carpet, where Harry wandlessly transformed it back into original state. He threw Hermione a reproachful look, but she missed it because she was staring at a little form standing wide-eyed by the doorway into the living room.
"How did you do that?" the girl asked in an impressed voice. The blue eyes that she had clearly inherited from her mother concealed none of her wonder or excitement.
Hermione couldn't help but be taken with the girl who had changed so much from the time she had last seen her. She found herself smiling indulgently and explaining, "It's a rather simple form of Transfiguration, one of the subjects taught at Hogwarts."
"And you both went there?" she asked, including Harry in her address. Both wizards nodded, and Hermione briefly made eye contact with Harry as the flashes of happier memories swept through her head.
Mary had stood up unnoticed by the other two adults and was approaching where her daughter stood at the edge of the carpet. "What have I told you about eavesdropping, young lady?" she demanded in a chilling tone. Hermione immediately went to the young girl's aid.
"Oh, it's all right, Mary. I'm sure Katharine is only curious about her future school and home away from home," she said, injecting a slight warning in her voice that was only detectable to Mary and aiming a kind smile to the girl who appeared to be cowering slightly. Hermione ignored the glare that Mary sent her and beckoned her cousin's daughter to the chair nearest the couch that she and Harry were sharing. "So tell me about your letter," she requested.
The color seemed to return to the girl's face as a grin spread across it. "It was ever such a surprise! No one else in the whole family is magical except, well, you, Hermione, and mum and dad were beside themselves! I went to the library to try and find some reading material on Hogwarts but I suppose since it's such a big secret, magic I mean, that it's not going to be that easy to find. The letter said that we could have a special messenger come and explain everything, since I'm Muggle-born and everything-" at this her mother let out a puff of air through one corner of her mouth, "but then great Auntie Helen said that you could come instead, and we didn't know why you should be the one to tell us about it, but you were always so smart and I thought that was why you were coming. But now we know, you're a witch just like me!"
Hermione laughed indulgently at Katharine's obvious excitement. "Well, yes, I was hoping to tell you more about the wizarding world. And I had some plans to take you to some areas populated by wizards and where you would buy your school things if you were to go to Hogwarts-if it's all right with your mother that is."
Mary found three pairs of eyes directed at her pleading for her acquiescence. "Well, I suppose," she said uncertainly, checking her watch. "Where will you take her exactly?"
Harry answered her, his calm exterior betrayed by the childish eagerness in his voice. "Hermione was talking about Diagon Alley, that's where we buy most of our supplies-clothes, potion ingredients, owls, you name it-"
"Potion ingredients?" Mary spluttered, having missed the mention of pet owls. "As in…Macbeth and cauldrons and-"
This time it was Hermione who interrupted, though she had a difficult time keeping the frustration from her tone. "This is what you must first understand if we're going to get anywhere with this, Mary. Magic is not necessarily evil-there are good and bad wizards just like there are good and bad Muggles, erm, other people…" she trailed off momentarily but rallied at once. "It was long ago that people were presented with the negative view of witchcraft and wizards have been fighting the prejudice for many years. And while certain practices like potion making and broomstick flying" at this Mary gripped her spoon so tightly her knuckles turned white, "may not have the best reputation, it has proved essential to the survival of the magical way of life."
Mary's head moved up and down mechanically, but Hermione sensed that in time she would come to terms with the idea that her only daughter was a witch and there wasn't much that could be done about it. But it seemed she wasn't finished with her questions. "Does this mean that Michael, my son, will be a…a wizard too?"
With a swift glance at Harry, Hermione indicated that he take this one. "Not necessarily," he began. "My mum was a witch, but her sister, who raised me, was not, so I grew up Muggle just like you and Hermione."
"It can also happen in reverse," Hermione continued. "A person can be born into a wizarding family with no magical ability at all. We call them Squibs, but it's a very rare thing, just like being a Muggle-born witch or wizard. In fact, it's quite interesting that we have two witches in the one family," Hermione remarked, looking back toward Katharine. The girl blushed as though Hermione had just praised her homework, and Hermione couldn't help but grin back. It was then of course, that Mary unconsciously ruined the moment.
"You both said that you went for only six years, when it said in the brochure that Hogwarts education lasted for seven. Did you both leave early?" she looked between them as their gaze caught and held for a moment. Hermione knew that Harry was keenly aware that how they answered this question would probably determine whether or not Mary allowed Katharine to attend Hogwarts.
Harry cleared his throat and glanced again at Hermione, who nodded. He seemed to gain some strength from that and said, "Well, a few years ago, there was a war in the wizarding world. I'm sure to some extent that you knew of it as well, except that everything odd that happened was explained away. You heard tell of hurricanes and collapsed bridges and cold, dowsing fog that seemed to invade every part of your body?"
Surprisingly, Mary leaned forward in her seat suddenly. "Yes, I remember the fog most of all," she said in a quiet voice.
"And that was only the beginning," said Hermione, pulling Mary from her thoughts. "Luckily our side was able to do some damage control to keep the Muggles from noticing anything overtly suspicious, but every now and then…" She stopped and Harry grasped her hand firmly.
"Eventually the good side won," Harry continued. "But that's why Hermione and I, and our friend Ron, left school. To fight," he finished.
Mary sucked in a breath and Hermione could almost follow her thoughts as they calculated the real reason behind Hermione's absences from family gatherings. When she looked up and her lovely eyes bore into Hermione's, for the first time Hermione didn't feel repulsive or disgusting, but rather beautiful. And although this sudden understanding did not account for Mary's teasing and goading throughout the years, Hermione felt that at least it was a step on the road to some kind of reconciliation.
Harry and Katharine followed this wordless exchange as though they were at a tennis match, and when she couldn't contain herself any longer, Katharine burst out, "Okay, so now can Hermione take my to Diagonally?"
Hermione was careful to turn her laugh into a cough but she still caught Harry's embarrassed smile out of the corner of her eye. Hopefully they would avoid the Floo network in their travels if they could. Mary appeared to still be debating within herself-she knew that if she allowed her to explore the wizarding world it would be akin to allowing her to accept her offer to attend Hogwarts. Before making her decision, she leveled her gaze on Hermione once more. "And the war is over? She won't be in any danger?"
"Katharine will be safe with us," was all Hermione said. There was no point in worrying her cousin and possibly delaying her decision by telling her that despite repairing the physical damage wrought during the war and restructuring the Ministry from within, the wizarding world was still a long way from total recuperation.
This seemed to be enough for Mary, who nodded once and leaned over to accept the embraces and thanks from her daughter. Hermione saw that when Mary smiled her way, it was a genuine grin free from malice, and she nearly reeled from being on its receiving end. This must be the Mary that everyone else sees, Hermione thought to herself. She vowed to one day uncover what caused their childhood relationship to sour.
With a light heart and many prolonged goodbyes, Hermione and Harry escorted a bouncing Katharine out the door and down the road back to the train station. Katharine hardly drew breath along the way and kept Harry much occupied with answering her many enthusiastic questions as Hermione negotiated their way through the crowd. Suddenly she stopped, feeling around in the pocket of her cloak and being jostled by the masses of people around her.
"What is it?" Harry asked in concern, seeing the worried frown on her face.
Hermione pulled a quill from one pocket and searched through the other for some parchment. Carefully she used her body to shield the quill from the Muggles around her as it sat poised in mid-air, its shaft quivering in agitation. "There," she sighed in relief, thrusting the parchment beneath it so that it could translate its message.
Katharine's jaw had dropped and Harry grinned at her in a "you can learn that too" sort of way.
A minute later, the limp quill was stowed hastily back in her cloak as Hermione read the message. When she finished she looked up at Harry in apology. "It's from my work," she explained, looking from Harry to Katharine in turn. "They've called me in to supervise one of the new experiments in the Department of Mysteries."
"Do they need you right now?" asked Harry, starting to get the implications of Hermione's absence. He'd never spent much time with children, other than the growing Weasley brood, and he wasn't sure what an eleven-year-old girl would find interesting. Being related to Hermione, Katharine would probably be swallowed by the bookstore in Diagon Alley and never see the light of day.
Hermione noticed his discomfort. "I'm sorry Harry, there's no way I can get out of it. I've never been called in like this before, so it must be important. Do you think you could manage to take Katharine back to Mary's? Katharine, would you mind taking a raincheck on this?" she asked, bending down to make herself heard above the noise of the train platform.
"Well, can't Harry still show me around?" asked Katharine logically. Behind her Harry's face was reflecting his internal struggle and Hermione stuttered for moment to stall for time, all the while conscious of her need to report to the Ministry immediately.
Finally, Harry found himself saying, "Go on Hermione, I'll show her around."
"Are you sure?" she asked worriedly.
"Yeah, I think I can handle her," he said jokingly, winking at Katharine who suddenly turned a delicate shade of pink.
Hermione laughed at the display and turned back to her best friend. "Thanks, Harry, you're a lifesaver. Literally," she added, quickly hugging him and then Katharine, to whom she whispered, "Take care of my best mate, will you?"
The young girl nodded dutifully and with a quick check that no one was paying attention, Hermione waved cheerily and Disapparated. Silence descended awkwardly on the pair, despite the clamor of the other travelers and Harry's earlier confidence.
"So it looks like just the two of us, doesn't it?" he asked, nudging Katharine in the shoulder. Harry marveled at how much she resembled Hermione if one ignored the sharp, blue eyes. In fact as snippets of their earlier conversation came back to him, he noticed that they shared many common mannerisms-like what she was doing now, worrying her bottom lip in thought.
"I suppose so," she replied. "And you can call me Kate, you don't have to bother with Katharine. No one calls me that except family anyway."
"All right, Kate," Harry said, trying out the new form of address. "Off to Diagon Alley?"
Kate beamed excitedly. "Yes, off to Diagon Alley!"
As Harry followed her onto the train that would take them nearest to the Leaky Cauldron, he thought to himself with a grin, And she learns quickly too-just like Hermione. Oh, what have I gotten myself into?
A/N: Well, what do you think? Let me know in a review! ~Ronnie