Sequel to The Wrath Of Hermione. House Black is led by Andromeda Tonks a.k.a. Lady Black. She intends to make House Black once again a major player in Magical Britain - this time on the anti-Voldemort pro-Potter side. Step One is to assimilate both the Pureblood family of Draco Malfoy and the Newblood family of Hermione Granger. Given that Hermione murdered Lucius, this could be trickier than planned... Meanwhile, back in the Future, Luna investigates ways of helping Hermione - in particular, helping Harry follow her.
From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/7050/
A/N: This is the sequel to The Wrath of Hermione, which you should really read first. It charts the eventful reentry of House Black, led by Lady Andromeda Black-Tonks, into Magical Britain. The Grangers and the Tonks's will play a large role. Occasional trips to the Black Family Tree may be made. There's also the issue of bringing Future!Harry to this Present.
Self-plug: my profile has been revamped... it includes a list of my favourite Mionecentric fics.
Dear Mama and Papa,
Are you well? How is Crookshanks? Has his leg healed yet? How much weight has he gained? Has Papa's back recovered from the last time he tried to pick Crookshanks up?
I had a funny dream yesterday. I was turned into a stilleto and shoenapped by Imelda Marcos. Bet she's a Dark Witch.
This morning, Ron had an omelette eating contest with Seamus. They spent the rest of the day sitting together in class, because no-one else would sit with them.
Also... oh, never mind. I'm really procrastinating here, aren't I?
Let me start this letter, for real this time.
You have probably noticed the changes in my letters of late. There is a very good reason for that, but I have to tell you in person. It's complicated. And before you ask, I am not pregnant or anything mundane like that. It's not even anything bad, just... hard to believe.
You are in danger. More danger than I have led you to believe before. I am sorry for not saying this earlier. But time is short and you can yell at me later. I promise not to wear earmuffs.
The terrorists in Magical Britain are rising again. Remember that Voldemort person who killed Harry's parents when he was a tot? I'm sorry I didn't say this before, but he's back. He captured Harry at the end of the tournament last year and performed a Dark Magic Ritual to come back to life.
Since I am friends with Harry and I'm Muggleborn, I'm a target. That makes you a target. Now, don't you dare blame Harry for this! Voldemort and his Death Eaters hate Muggles and Muggleborns. They want genocide. I am not joking. This is 1930, Voldemort is Hitler, we are Jews and Roma and Sinti, hated for what we were born as. Muggle sympathizers like the Weasleys are communists, hated for what they believe. I will not allow them to win. The Death Nazis I mean, not the Weasleys.
I've been working on ways to evacuate you. First to get you both to a safe house, second to get you out of Britain.
This Saturday at 6 o'clock, my former teacher (the only good DADA one we ever had) has offered to visit you and help you move to a safe house. Is the time okay? Owl me if not. His name is Remus Lupin. He is, incidentally, a werewolf. That means he is a man 90% of the time and an uncontrollable wolf the other 10%. The full moon was last week so don't worry. I don't think his teeth are different from ours, but please don't pester him about thaht just yet! He will be taking you to a safe house. Please go with him! This is far more important than your jobs - it's life or death. Papa, you'll have to resign from the NHS. Mama, you'll have to quit Dr Porkalot's clinic. Claim a family emergency, because this is one.
Remus knows spells to shrink and lighten anything. He can place all our ten thousand books - including the ones in storage - in a briefcase that weighs less than ten kilos.
Love,
Oni
Andromeda Tonks - Lady Andromeda Black-Tonks, she reminded herself - had many things in common with her husband Theodore Dixon Tonks.
(1) They both liked strawberry ice cream.
(2) They both liked licking strawberry ice cream off each ... never mind.
(3) They both considered coffee to be the root of all evil. In other words, the only thing that would make either of them capable of murder would be the murder-victim-to-be getting between them and their morning coffee.
(4) They both believed firmly in the motto 'Throw something away today and you will need it tomorrow'. This also meant that they were both very good with space expansion and object shrinking spells.
(5)They both loved Muggle Comedy, with Monty Python and the Holy Grail being their favourite film. Ted thought Andy was in love with Armando Iannucci, while she knew he was in love with Sue Perkins.
(6) They both loved their daughter to bits. Andy had been very hurt by her four-year estrangement with her daughter and was delighted to be back in her life. She did not deny that Nym had won their argument, and was - in a way - proud of her daughter for standing up to her just as she had stood up to her family.
(7) They both thought that one of the best places to discuss work-related issues was in bed. In this case, plotting the resurrection of House Black was work.
Which brings us to the subject of tonight's peek into Number 31 Messier Lane. This cluttered five-bedroomed house is an unplottable building somewhere in the Bahamas. Many of its contents are also unplottable, at least in the opinion of whoever is searching for them at the time.
Conversely, anything not being searched for is Plottable.
Ted is not searching for the tennis ball he is about to step on.
"Argh, that bloody half-grown c*nt! Who put that f**king crud ball there? Stupid mangy excuse for a melodramatic agricultural kneazle!"
A hastily cast Lumos reveals a streak of brown-red fur heading out off the Tonks' bedroom nfaster than a Weasley inhaling breakfast.
It also reveals Andy Tonks levitating her husband to bed so she can kiss his owies away. And tease him about using 'agricultural' as a swear word.
To keep the rating of this chapter out of NC17 territory, we take a break here to provide the reader with some Black Trivia.
House Black had never been unified in its philosophical leanings. Each generation had Black Sheep such as Alphard, Andromeda, and Sirius Black.
But the Blacks were unified in their knowledge of astronomy, even to the extent that even the most Pureblood of them avidly read Muggle Astronomy research journals or magazines. (They justified this by categorizing all Muggle Astronomers as Squibs.)
All Blacks were given at least one name that was an astronomical object. Sirius is the brightest star in the night sky. Andromeda is the galaxy closest to the Milky Way were we live. Draco is a constellation. Alphard, Bellatrix, and Regulus are stars in the constellations Hydra, Orion, and Leo respectively. Both Nymphadora and Narcissa had middle names from constellations, but they are too embarassing to reveal here.
With such an astrophilic household, it was no surprise that its members were in stitches when Narcissa referred to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place as The Hole.
"What did you find on the Granger girl?"
"Nothing much," replied Ted, who had spent that morning hunting down information on the girl through both Muggle and Wizarding means. "Her parents are Muggle dentists. No hidden Magical lines or squibs-in-hiding as far as I can tell. She grew up as a shy and lonely child and found refuge in her books. That in turn led her to being even more socially isolated. She read War And Peace - all six volumes - when she was eight. She took piano and gymnastics lessons, but stopped the latter after a nasty fall when she was ten that left her addicted to Terra Firma. Se told her teachers that she wanted to take her GCSEs - those are Muggle exams you normally take when you are sixteen - in Maths, Physics, English, History, and French when she twelve, but this plan was canned when her Hogwarts letter turned up. At Hogwarts, she has been first in all but two subjects - Herbology and DADA - in all her years at Hogwarts. You know about the Time Turner in her Third Year from Sirius - what you don't know is that she was given it by Minerva McGonagall so she could take a full load of classes."
"What? Minerva gave her a Time Turner for classes?" asked Andromeda, shocked.
"Yes, it was rather surprising," said Ted. "But - get this - it's nothing new. She is the fourteenth Hogwarts student this century to receive a Time Turner. Admittedly, her reason is the least convincing - even if she did end up saving Sirius with it, that was not the original purpose of the Time Turner for her."
"Fourteen?" asked Andromeda, even more shocked. She sat up in bed to better stare at her husband.
"Yes. Remus Lupin was given one in his first year as an experiment to see if appear in two places at once during the full moon. The idea was that if he, the day after the full moon say, went back in time, would he still turn into a werewolf? If so, then he could eliminate any suspicions the other students might have about the reasons for his regular bouts of illness. Unfortunately, it didn't work, and they just ended up with two werewolves running around."
"Oh. Wait a minute. How did you find this out?"
"The Ministry has records of which Hogwarts students have received Time Turners. I couldn't get any names, just numbers. As for Remus' story, he told me himself." Ted and Remus, both being intellectuals with addictions to research, had known each other even before the Tonks had returned to the British political scene.
"Oh. For a moment there I thought you'd found that out by the usual methods." There was no need to mention what the usual methods were - blackmail and bribery. For all his quirks, Ted would have been in Slytherin had he not been a Mudblood. (They were both Ravenclaws.)
"Moi?" asked Ted in mock outrage. He cast a charm to place a halo over his head. Andy giggled and reached out to feel it. It wasn't solid, but felt cool as her fingers passed through it.
"Cute. What's it made of?" she asked.
"Beats me. Alcetocranic Antimatter, probably. Want to knwo my speculations on the details?"
She punched him lightly in the arm.
"Right then. Alceto... mmmmf!"
Both Tonks were well aware of the best - as in most enjoyable - of getting Ted to shut up. After a while, they separated and Ted explained the rest of what he had found out about Hermione Granger.
"You're thinking of adopting her into the Black family," said Ted. It wasn't a question.
"Yes. We need to make House Black strong again. She would be a worthy addition."
"Well, don't expect her to marry Sirius or anything. Hogwarts rumours state that she is enamoured with either young Potter or the youngest Weasley boy. She's also been linked with Viktor Krum."
"Krum? The Bulgarian Seeker?"
"He was in the Triwizard Tournament. There was a Yule Ball, and he asked her out. However, indications are that they are just friends - Krum had a younger Squib sister who died of Ndaona's Syndrome shortly before the tournament. She was a bookworm and spent most of the time in libraries. I believe Krum sees Granger as a quasi-sister, at least at the beginning. They have remained pen pals, however, so presumably they found each other interesting enough to remain in contact."
"Oh. I suppose Nym told you this?"
Ted nodded, before continuing. "In any case, I've been considering ways of bringing her into House Black. Marriage is out, and I doubt that she will agree to magical adoption since that will mean disowning her parents. However, what we could do is adopt her parents. Then she'd be adopted by default." He looked at his wife closely, because she looked cute when she was shocked. Not that she did not look cute at other times...
"We can't adopt Muggles!" she exclaimed.
He raised his eyebrows.
"No, no," she assured him, thinking that he thought she was against the idea of bringing Muggles into the Black family. Yes, it would be a poke in the eye for hundreds of Black ancestors - she would love to see the epxression on Phineas' and Walpurga's portraits - but that was just a bonus. "How can we magically adopt Muggles? You said they weren't Squibs or anything."
"Dark Magic, of course," he replied, examining his fingernails closely.
"Wot?" She suddenly remembered something. "Wait, you told me about this some years ago, didn't you?"
"You remember!" he exclaimed brightly. "It's a Bantu Dark spell that gives Muggles an empty magical core so that they become Squibs. They can't be turned into Wizards, though that is something worth researching. I don't know how many Pureblood families know of this, but..."
"... yes, of course," she interrupted, considering the possibilities. Most Dark Magic families in Europe were Purebloods and Purebloods were very likely to suppress knowledge of such a spell. Even Albus Dumbledore wouldn't know of such obscure Dark Magic. "So you're saying that, if the Grangers agree, we turn them into Squibs and then adopt them. Very nice." She gave him a grateful snog. This took a while as the snog turned into snogs. "Do you think they would agree? What do you know of them?"
"Can't tell for sure. We'll have to meet them - and their daughter of course. Kevin Granger is an academic type who always votes Lib-Dem. He should be open-minded. Golda Peretz - Mrs Granger - I dunno. I couldn't get much information on her since she only moved to England in her mid-twenties. She lived in Israel and met him at a dental conference."
"Hmmm," mused Lady Black. "Well, we'll have to ask them."
"Of course," said Ted. "Which brings me to my next point. Hermione asked Remus and Sirius if she could bring her parents to The Hole this weekend to keep them safe. Sirius can't help them move, and neither can Hermione. Remus asked me if I was willing to help with the shrinking and packing. Care to join us?"
It was nearing the end of another Quidditch practice. Hermione sat on the benches with Dean Thomas. She was here to watch Harry and Ron, he was there to watch Katie. She didn't do much watching. She was reading Hogwarts - A History. At least, that's what it appeared like. She was actually reading a book on A-Level Chemistry disguised as Hogwarts - A History. She had been doing this ever since third year - after all, how many times could one read the same book when one already had near photographixc memory? - but had never told anyone. Ever. Except Luna. But it turned out that the blonde did much the same herself with the Quibbler.
Dean was, on the other hand, actively watching the players and making sketches. He was very good. She didn't understand how he could see anything useful when they moved so fast. True, he had Omnioculars, but he often sketched without it...
Observation was a great thing. But sometimes it was just easier to ask the observee.
Hermione lowered her book and looked over to see what her fellow Muggleborn classmate was doing.
"Wow," she said upon seeing the pictures moving on the paper. "I didn't know you had one of those!"
Dean grinned. "Got it last week with Harry's dough."
Hermione had got Harry to make an initial investment in her Magical Britain 101 book project with Katie and Dean. The parchment in front of them was a professional-level piece of equipment. It was linked to the Omnioculars so that it could display anything seen by it. Artists like Dean could then draw from the photographs. It was much easier for a painter to magically program portraits than for anyone, even the photographer, to program people in photos. This was because portraits came 'out of' the painter while photographs did not.
"Good job," she replied. "It'll be about twenty five years before the Muggles get something similar."
"You think?" he asked. Comparing the two worlds was a common topic of discussion between the three of them. Harry contributed sometimes, as did the Brothers Creevy.
Hermione grinned but said nothing. This was a case where se didn't just think, but knew from her past future experience.
"How are you and Katie doing?" she asked instead.
"Good, actually," he said with a chuckle. "Getting close to the Meet The Parents stage."
"That's great!" she smiled, giving him a one-armed hug. She then noticed his apprehensive look. "Isn't it?"
"Err... well, you know how it is with interracial couples in our - in the Muggle world."
She ignored the pronoun - that was an entirely different kettle of fish (who kept fish in kettles anyway?) - and asked what the situation was. It was ironic that the bigotry in the Wizarding World did not extend to colour - at least not to the extent that it did in the Muggle World. A large part of this had to do with the fact that developmentally, Magical Africa had alwayds been considered socially equal to other parts of the world. Well developed civilisations lay hidden in the depths of the Congo, in the great cities of Nairobi, Masvingo, Cape Town, and Timbuktu, under the sands of the Sahara and Kalahari, and so on. Of course, prejudice and stereotypes still existed, but they were on the basis of culture rather than skin colour. And they went both ways.
"Her folks know about me," continued Dean. "And they say they don't mind, but have warned her that not all their other relatives are going to be pleased. My mam's a bit worried though - we aren't from the best part of London, y'know? Katie's gonna get serious looks if she ever comes to visit." Dean had a scholarship to attend Hogwarts. Hermione's parents were well-off so she didn't need one.
"She can wear a glamour," said Hermione. "And she can take it off when she gets to your home."
"She shouldn't have to."
Hermione didn't argue with something she agreed with. "Mr Bell is in the RAF, right?"
"Yes, he's a pilot. That's why she's even more addicted to flight than Harry. Why?"
"Soldiers are used to serving with people of other races. More respect and all that."
Dean thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Good point. You know, I wanted to join the army before Hogwarts."
"And now?" asked Hermione. "Now that you've discovered you can make a living out of art?"
"Well, there is that," mused Dean. "It's just that we're all going to be soldiers anyway, aren't we?"
The mood changed.
"You could leave Britain," Hermione said after a while.
"Would you?"
"And leave Harry alone?"
"What if there was no Harry? Would you leave then?"
Hermione had to think for a while. She'd honestly never considered this option. It was hard to imagine a life where Harry had never existed. "I don't know," she eventually admitted.
"Wow," exclaimed Dean. "I need to get that in writing." She punched his arm. "Seriously, Hermione, I'm getting worried. Britain is home for me. I'm staying to fight. But I'm worried about my family."
"How many?"
"My mum and my two younger sisters. They are all Muggles. Denise is thirteen. Debra is five. Mum's a nurse."
Hermione didn't ask about his father - she had once heard him tell Seamus that he had no clue who his father was.
"Can you convince her to move?"
"I don't know. I don't even know if I should be worried or not. I figure they can easily find us the same way they sent our Hogwarts letters to us. But who are 'they'? McGonagall and the Hogwarts Quill? The Ministry? Can anyone do it?"
Hermione grimaced before nodding. "If they want to."
"How?"
"Magical tracking. Unless you're in an Unplottable location, anyone can be tracked."
"Muggleborn or Muggle?"
Hermione paused. It was a good question, one that even her extra experience did not provide the answer for. "Definitely the former. The latter - you know, I don't know."
Dean chuckled. "Twice in one day. Wait till Ron hears of this!"
"Honestly! Why does everyone think I know everything? And stop giving me that look! If I knew everything, I'd never go to the library!"
Dean conceded the valid point before turning serious. "If my folks moved and I stayed away from them, would anyone be able to trace them? I do know it's horribly expensive to make a place Unplottable so that's out of the question."
"Professor Flitwick - we should ask him."
Their conversation slipped into silence again.
"How many people are worried, Dean? Who have you talked to?"
"Justin."
"Fletchperson? Mr Eton? He Who Wants To Be The First Muggleborn Prime Minister Since Benny D?"
"Benny D?"
"Benjamin Disraeli."
"Oh. And yes, I do mean Mr Finch-Fletchley himself. Also known as He Who Asks You Out Every Thursday After Arithmancy."
"No, that's Terry Boot. Besides, I thought Justin was gay."
"Oh? Well, Justin thinks the same of you. He's not the only one. Turpin's got a pool on everyone's preferences and offers 3 to 1 odds in favour of you being a dyke."
"WHAT! You cannot be serious."
"Are you?"
"Yes, of course, but..."
"Holy Brunelleschi!" Dean's eyes widened. He wasn't sure whether to believe Hermione or not. She was very high on his list of People Never To Play Poker with. He didn't mind, not really, but it was surprising. But he wasn't going to admit to believing her if she was just joshing him. No, he'd check with Katie, since her gaydar was better than his.
"Like everyone else," continued Hermione with a smirk, "I swing both ways. I just admit it."
"Everyone?" asked Dean weakly.
"At various degrees. It's all a big gay-straight continuum, with lots of people at both ends and some of us lucky ones in the middle."
"Oh," he said after a while, and decided to get around to his intended topic of conversation. "Er. Anyway. Have you heard of the Bridgers?"
Hermione's eyes widened. "Yessss...." she said hesitantly.
The Bridgers were a long-established international association of Muggleborn witches and wizards who aimed to be liaisons between the two worlds. They had never been very prominent in Europe as their aims were seen as conflicting with the International Statue of Secrecy, which the European Pureblood families took more seriously than those in other parts of the world. In fact, they were banned in Britain, France, Spain, Catalonia, Portugal, Basqua, Germany and Magyaria.
"They are trying to establish a foothold in Britain again. They approached Double Eff, or he approached them. I dunno. He's their rep here. He's recruiting. He talked to me on Sunday and asked me to sound you and Katie out."
"But they're illegal!"
"That's why they are calling themselves 'The Society for the Integration of Muggleborns'." He gave Hermione a small grey cardboard circle. "This is Justin's S.I.M. card."
"Oh," she said, examining it closely. "I take it he introduced it as S.I.M. first? How did you find out about the Bridgers? I mean, not many people know..."
"I do read, Hermione," said Dean, a little irritated by her assumption that he did not. On the other hand, he understood that she wasn't used to having companions who read on their own. "I found out about them while reading for a Binns paper. Remember that project for second year about Banned Societies in Britain?"
"Er, no," she said, frowning.
"Oh, you were Petrified for that," he said. "Sorry. Anyway, that's how I knew about the Bridgers and they being banned. I guess I've read too many Muggle conspiracy theories, so I jumped to the conclusion that there was a connection. I was shocked when, after some prodding, Justin admitted to there being one."
Hermione considered this.
"He's very interested in getting you on board," continued Dean. "He said he would have asked you directly, but you've been scarce of late. He also said that there is no law banning the formation of such a society."
"Then why did he need Bridger help to start it?"
"I couldn't get him to explain. Maybe you can."
Hermione pondered the situation. It didn't take long. She wanted to help Muggleborns like herself. She didn't have the time to organize. Someone else was organizing them. True, Justin had his own agenda, but he was taking care of the logistical details. Time was short. But this was not the time to be joining illegal organizations, even if they weren't supposed to be illegal.
Stupid Pureblood Ministry.
"I'd like to meet him," said Hermione. "But if he - or you - tell anyone I'm doing so, it's off. Such a group is going to be accused of being Bridger-associated even if it isn't - which it is - and I'm close to Harry. I'm not having people using me to malign him any more. I do hope I'm allowed to tell Harry though, since I'm going to. I won't tell any Weasleys, of course."
Dean winced. "I asked Justin that. He said he wasn't sure if Harry thought of himself as Muggleborn." He continued in a lower voice. "Everyone in our dorm knows his relatives aren't nice... "
"What are you saying, Thomas?" she asked in her best 'Tell Me Or Require Spare Parts' voice. "Culture overrules blood. Nurture beats Nature. Most of the time. Muggle raised is as good as Muggleborn." She didn't think of the connotations of the word 'good' in what she said. But if she had, she would not have retracted it. "He's not about to turn into the next Voldemort or, worse, the next Lucius Malfoy, because of it. But he would never give them up to the Ministry. He's not a fan of them."
"I know that," said Dean. "You know that. Justin isn't sure and accepted it very grudgingly." said Dean uncertainly. He really didn't want to say what he was going to say next. But Hermione deserved to hear it. "And - er - Justin said more. He said that he wanted to wait until Harry chose between you and Ginny before inviting Harry."
To Dean's surprise, Hermione did not blow up at him.
She understood immediately what he was saying - if Harry 'chose' Hermione - which he had done, though neither Dean nor Justin knew it - then he would be more willing to deal with the Muggle world. If he chose instead a pureblood witch such as Ginny - whom Hermione had firmly wiped off her Friends list - then Harry would treat the Muggle world with indifference. It was the difference between him considering Muggles as 'Us' or 'Them'. Hermione thought of Muggles as both 'us' and 'them' depending on the situation, sometimes both at once. She was not technically a Muggle, but she was one culturally. She was a child of two cultures and saw no reason to turn her back on one of them. But she had received love and care in both worlds; Harry had not.
And she certainly wasn't telling Dean that Harry had already made his choice. They hadn't talked about going public yet.
She made, once again, a firm mental effort to avoid thinking of Ginny. She had been doing quite well avoiding such thoughts ever since the note arrived from Future Luna et al explaining how the redhead had broken up her marriage to Harry while they were both in a witless state recovering from their daughter's murder by Draco Malfoy.
"Like I said, I'm telling Harry," said Hermione eventually. "Will you get in trouble with Justin if I do?"
Dean shook his head. "I expected you would. I warned Justin as much. If he disagrees and doesnt want you on his side, I'd rather be on your side than his."
"My side?"
"Your side is Harry's side," answered Dean with a shrug, as if that explained everything. Which it did, really.
There was a shrill double blast of a whistle. It was Angelina Johnson's signal that Quidditch practice was done. As Dean and Hermione packed up their things to go meet their sweaty friends, they discussed strategies on how to drag Ron to football sessions.
Dear Oni,
This is Papa. You made your Mama cry, and I am not amused.
Why didn't you tell us Magical Britain going to war? You are not the only witch we keep in contact with! We know Voldemort returned. We expected you were going to be a soldier. We know you won't leave Harry. He is your friend, a real friend, and neither Grangers nor Peretzes abandon their friends.
When we got your letter, we contacted your friend Ronald's father. He's got a telephone at his office, even though he is utterly terrible at using it. It took me ten minutes to tell him to turn the handset so he spoke into the microphone instead of the speaker end! He popped in soon afterwards (literally, and you mum almost conked him with her mixing bowl because his teleporting thing sounds like a gunshot) and explained everything.
We now know how serious this is. Young lady, you really must learn to explain more in your letters. Just because we're Muggles, we're not idiots. Your mother wonders if you think so poorly of us, if you think we are pets to be protected. I told her - and I had better be right - that the reason you said so little to us is that you were scared we would pull you out of school.
Well, you're right. We would have tried to pull you out of school. And you would have fought back and won. For God's sake, have confidence in yourself! When have we ever beaten you in a serious (post-morning-coffee) argument? I swear, you channel both your grandmothers.
We mentioned Mr Lupin's name to Arthur as well. It seems they know each other. Arthur sent Remus to us, and we talked as well. (Did you know his father taught Latin at Rugby? Only his mother was a witch.) In any case, we were worried about our finances, since we damage our pensions seriously if we resign at such short notice. But we were assured that your rich friends would compensate us appropriately. We don't like charity, but intend to earn our keep. Besides, we have savings.
Needless to say, we've quit our jobs and have been packing ever since. Remus is coming on Saturday afternoon - at two, not six - with a couple of friends. He said they were called Andy and Ted Tonks. I suppose you know them?
I am now going to yell at you again for upsetting your Mama. Did you forget that Golda Peretz was a soldier in the Israeli Army for three years? I admit I don't understand war very much, but she does. You should talk to her, daughter to mother, soldier to soldier. Even if you aren't a soldier yet, you will be. Since we can't convince you to not be a soldier, we intend to help you be a good one.
Another thing. Mama and I are not leaving Britain. Remus tells us that bullets can kill most of those Death Munchies of yours, as only the most powerful of them will be able to support shields strong enough to resist. Your mother is an excellent sharpshooter and I would be surprised if she doesn't demand a position as a sniper or something during battles. I asked Remus if there were Magically enhanced bullets. He said no, but was very intrigued by the idea.
I also have other ideas of things that could help with this war. Remember that Portkey thing you told us about that took you to that Broomstick Polo World Cup? I asked Remus if we could turn dental fillings into Portkeys. He is very excited by this idea. It would be for emergency use only as the spinning could rip out your jaw, but better toothless than dead. If it worked, your mum and I could implant Portkey fillings into all of your soldiers' mouths. And their families. Muggle families would already have fillings. But there has to be a way of making a less jaw-breaking Portkey.
Have you read between the lines here, Oni? Your mum and I have something to contribute to this war and you are not going to chase us away from it. For us, this is merely a change of occupation. It's a small price to pay for getting closer to your world. I know we've said this before, but we are proud that our daughter is a witch, even if she is a bit dense at times. It's only to be expected when your two best friends are males; density is contagious.
Your loving Papa,
Kevin Granger
PS I : Crookshanks is on a diet and hates it. His leg is almost healed. We'll owl him to you when he's ready.
PS II : I was kidding about the owl. We'd never punish a poor bird like that. Your fat cat needs a %$%@$%!# pteranodon, not an owl!
PS III : It's Poqualot, not Porkalot.
A/N: Comedians Sue Perkins and Armando Iannucci - and many others - perform together on the hilarious BBC radio show "The 99p challenge" MP3s of the show can be found at this fansite - skip the 1999 season.
In case you didn't get it, Narcissa was really calling 12 Grimmauld Place 'The Black Hole'.
Can someone tell me which countries allow (and encourage) women to enter the army, for both combat and non-combat duties? I know Israel does, which is why Hermione's mother is an Israeli-born Briton. I needed her to be a soldier.
Roma and Sinti are more commonly known as gypsies. The Nazi genocide also included them.
I really hate the way this chapter turned out, especially since this fic is meant to be darker and more political than its predecessor. I haven't got the flippancy right yet. I am almost certainly going to rewrite it.
The countries Catalonia and Magyaria correspond to the Catalan region of Spain (capital = Barcelona) and Hungary. I see no reason why the Muggle and Magical countries should have exactly the same borders or be identical... besides, I'm just giving readers from different countries more excuses to flame me :)
Harry isn't forgotten, no worries.
Harry Potter had never learnt so much in History lessons before.
While Binns droned on about centaur rebellions (it wasn't all goblins), the young wizard had learnt a great deal about his mother from Remus. His charmed notebook was rapidly turning into a copy of Lily Evans: A History. Hermione had been quite delighted with this development, and even stopped her usual admonishments for Harry's class-time (ab)use of the notebooks she had made for him.
Lily Potter had joined the Ministry training program as an Auror, much to James' dismay. She promised to resign if he ever beat her in a best-of-five set of duels. He never did, thanks to her superb use of illusionary charms in one-on-one duels. James was no slouch himself, but it was very hard to beat someone who could convince you that they were standing far from where they were actually standing. Or that the wand you were holding was really a miffed piranha.
Illusions did not, however, work with everyone, or in chaotic battle conditions where your friends were affected by the illusions as much as your enemies. Nor did they work on someone far more magically powerful, like Dumbledore or Voldemort. They did not fool Moody's Mad Eye or Remus' sense of smell. Sirius added that Remus was the only Marauder able to beat Lily. Then again, Remus was the best duellist amongst the Marauders' year at Hogwarts, with the possible exception of Snape.
Illusion charms were also one of the main reasons why Filius Flitwick was a duelling champion. But the quarter-goblin was far more well-rounded in his duelling skills than Lily was.
Harry wondered if Hermione knew about illusion charms.
Lily Evans liked the Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, and Bob Marley. She had expressed amazement at the fact that the Bee Gees had families and kids and were not really castratos. She liked Saturday morning cartoons and, while converting James to her great vice, had conveniently forgotten to tell him that they were normally for Muggle children. Once, Remus had been rather amused to find James and Sirius in the library (under James' invisibility cloak for the sake of their bibliophobic reputation) looking up spells that would allow someone to paint a section of wall black to convert it into a door.
Harry wondered if Hermione liked cartoons. He hadn't had the chance to watch many himself. Remus advised him to get a video of old Bugs Bunny stories, since those were aimed at both grown-up and child audiences.
Hermione gingerly flew over the Quidditch pitch, taking great care not to get above two metres in height. Despite her avian Animagus form, broomstick flying remained about as enjoyable as eating chocolate-coated pickles when not pregnant.
She had not yet told Harry or Ron about her owl form, so there were no questions about this apparent paradox. If they had asked, Hermione would have said it was a question of control. She trusted her wings; she did not trust a piece of wood.
Several metres above her, Harry trained. Hovering ten metres over the Quidditch pitch were two charmed cannons (the kind that Ron's favourite team had been named for) that shot out Snitch-sized balls in random directions. This was standard Seeker training equipment, which Madam Hooch had - after four years of nagging Dumbledore and the School Board for funds - managed to procure second hand from a friend of a friend who worked for the Kenmore Kestrels.
A professional level Seeker could catch at least 90 out of every 100 balls shot from them before they hit the ground, while a competent school level Seeker could catch 50. Amongst the Hogwarts Seekers, Harry's average in practice was 80.1, Draco 74.2, Cho 71.9, and the novice Hufflepuff Seeker - a second year named Alice Springs - at a round 60.0. Hermione had, at Harry's request, been told by Viktor Krum that the Bulgarian Seeker's average was 97.5. Harry had, after choking on his pumpkin juice at learning this, decided that he would get to 85 by the end of his fifth year, 90 the next year, and break Krum's mark by the time he finished Hogwarts.
That was when Hermione had added that her penpal used three cannons instead of two.
This had caused Harry to bury his head in his hands, muttering, "Gunga Din, Gunga Din, Gunga Din..."
Hermione had been quite impressed, even if it was a third person reference rather than a second. Then she had told him that Krum's average with three cannons was in the sixties; the 97.5 was his average with two cannons. She had then discovered - to no-one's surprise - that Harry could run a lot faster than she could. He could tickle better too.
While Harry raced overhead (having caught 56 out of 68 balls so far), Ron accompanied Hermione around the pitch. Unlike Hermione, who was gripping her broomstick tightly and staring straight ahead, Ron was lying on the back of his lengthened broomstick.
"Show-off," muttered Hermione. "You've got a bench charm on it, don't you?"
Ron chuckled, and did not bother to deny it. Only balance freaks like Harry and Cho and Katie and Charlie Weasley could sleep on a broomstick without the aid of Charms that created an invisible near-solid platform along the length of the broom. Fortunately, one did not need to be a balance freak to play Quidditch.
He mentioned this to Hermione.
"All you need to play Quidditch is a thick head and an allergy to common sense," she stated stoically as she began taking a corner in a pathetically wide turn. She continued muttering, ranting about the need for cushioning charms on bludgers.
Ron mewed and clawed the air in a perfect impression of Mrs Norris. Hermione pointed out that Harry was male. Ron shrugged and began talking about his work with the war broomsticks. His eldest brothers had, surprisingly, proven extremely helpful in that regard.
"I've sent a few letters to Bill and Charlie about it," said the enthused redhead. "Charlie and one of his mates in Romania are responsible for adding charms to the brooms that they use to fly around the dragons. They've all got heat shield charms on them."
"Really?" asked Hermione, genuinely interested. "I didn't know people added their own charms to broomsticks."
"Most don't," answered Ron. "It's a big scam by the broom companies. Once they've placed the usual cushioning and braking and turning charms on their brooms, they place a million other charms that prevent other people from placing more charms."
"So," mused Hermione, deep in thought and failing to notice that she was now three metres off the ground, "Bill found ways of breaking these charms?"
"Yep!" he said proudly. Curse breaking had its uses.
"Weasley power!" she laughed. "So you won't be the only redhead in your company then?"
Ron hmmmed. He hadn't thought in such corporate terms yet. He was very much in a teenage-project mindset. Hermione smiled, and hoped things would stay like that for as long as possible.
"So Charlie uses heat shield charms," said Hermione. "What else?"
"That's the thing," replied Ron. "He hasn't added anything else, the shields are giving them enough problems. It's hard to maintain a shield when moving."
Hermione was impressed. Normally one didn't learn that until sixth year. And even then it wasn't fully appreciated - the amount of movement a foot soldier had to do in battle was not enough to cause shield charms to suffer much.
"Any ideas?" asked Ron. "I said I'd ask you." He wondered if Hermione knew she now four metres above the ground.
Hermione pondered this.
"Let me think about - eek!"
She suddenly realized just how high she was, and did an excellent impression of a Dutch windmill. Ron was over in a flash; holding her broomstick tight.
A few moments later, the pair was safely on terra firma, with Ron holding Hermione as she shivered with shock. A few seconds later, Harry abandoned his practice and joined them.
"You alright Hermione?" he asked, placing an arm over her other shoulder. "What happened, Ron?" He could see his best male friend struggling to stop laughing.
"I -- I went --- went too high," said Hermione slowly, before burying her head into Harry's shoulders in embarassment. Bewildered, he looked at Ron, who held up four fingers in response. Despite himself, Harry grinned, and quickly cast a silencing spell on Ron so that the redhead could guffaw without fear of Hermione hearing him.
"I'm so silly!" said Hermione, burying her head deeper. "All of my friends can ride brooms like hell and I can't even get ten metres off the ground without pissing myself!"
Harry wished he could cast a silencing spell on himself. Neither he nor Ron were going to tell Hermione how high she actually was. Instead, he patted Hermione's back and mumbled what he hoped were soothing words. ("If you were good at flying, you'd be perfect, not human... you'll get used to it...")
She recovered after a few minutes. Fortunately, Ron had also recovered as well, which allowed Harry to take the silencing spell off of him. By the time Hermione turned her back to look at Ron, he was avidly examining his broomstick. She took a few deep breaths and returned to her regular Advice-giving self.
"Have you talked to Luna yet, Ron?" she asked.
"Loony? No, why?" he replied.
"She's very good at charms. I'm going to see her later today. Would you like me to say something to her?"
"Er," said Ron, confused. "Say, are you trying to set me up with her or something? She's called loony for a reason, you know!"
Harry too, was looking at Hermione with interest. Luna was not the first person he would have thought to pair off with Ron, and was curious to hear what the actual first person he had thought of had to say in response.
Hermione looked around, and muttered a silencing spell that would cover the trio. "Actually, I do know the reason," she said solemnly, "and it's a very good one. It's not my place to tell you this, but - you both need to hear it. Don't go spreading this around, ok?"
Only Harry nodded at once.
"What about Ginny?" asked Ron. "She's Luna's friend, right? Which reminds me, did you two have an argument? She says you've been avoiding her."
Hermione winced, though only Harry noticed.
"It's ... complicated," replied the brunette. "I'll tell you later... maybe."
"Maybe?" asked Ron, in a cooler tone. "What's up, Hermione?"
Harry decided it was time to step in. "Ron, we trust Hermione, right?"
Ron's stance relaxed a bit. "Alright, fine. But I want to know, okay?"
"Neither of us will tell anyone," added Harry. "Ginny included. Now, what's up with Luna?"
"She's an Auravisor," said Hermione once she had put silencing charms up. "She can see magical auras."
Ron's eyes widened. "Blimey!" he exclaimed.
Harry blinked.
"Every magical object has an aura," Hermione began explaining. "Very powerful mages like the Headmaster can see them..."
"I bet it's how he can see through your cloak!" exclaimed Ron, recalling an encounter in Hagrid's hut in their second year.
"That's probably true," said Hermione, a little miffed at the interruption as always. "Other than them, being able to see Auras is even rarer than being a full Metamorphmagus like Tonks. Hogwarts is filled with auras, even the stones have them. Some of the creatures that Luna describes can only be seen by Auravisors like her, which is why they aren't in our usual books. It's like she can see in colour and all of us can see in black and white. Add that to Luna being close to the wrong side of Asperger's..."
"Oh," said Harry. "But seeing Auras sounds like a good thing..." He glanced at Ron, wordlessly asking why the redhead had spoken of it like it was a curse.
"It's not good," replied Ron, internally putting away his questions about what the right side of an asparagus was. "Most Auravisors don't live very long. And the Ministry ... " He looked at Hermione.
"The Ministry uses them as human detectors for anything you can think of," added the witch. "It happens in every country; the difference is how much freedom is given to Auravisors. In Britain, they are treated little better than slaves. They do ... experiments on them, experiments that powerful mages would absolutely refuse to do."
Harry glanced at Ron, who seemed rather shocked by this revelation. He didn't think either of them would be asking about the nature of such experiments.
"I think my parents know about her," said Ron softly. "Her mum used to visit a lot before she was killed in that Potions accident. That was the year before we came here, so --- Luna was nine then. I remember overhearing a meeting where she was crying to Mum about something Luna could see. Mum told us later that Luna had seen a fox killing a rabbit or something."
"Your father knows too?"
"She tells him everything," replied Ron. "It's not like Dad would ever turn Luna over to the Ministry."
Silence.
"It doesn't make sense," said Harry. "You're saying she behaves odd because she can see Auras, right? But that means that other Auraviwhatnots..."
"Auravisors," corrected Hermione.
"Auravisors. Right, other Auravisors would have behaved odd too, right? So the Ministry would look for odd people and - I dunno - test them for Auravisorness, right?"
Ron turned to Hermione with a He's-Got-A-Point look.
Hermione bit her lip. She knew the answer, but it really was a secret that Future Luna had only ever told Hermione, Padma and - perhaps her husband. Even Future Harry had not known.
The truth was that Lucinda Lovegood, Luna's mother, had been working on a Potion to diminish Luna's aura seeing ability so that she would not be enslaved by the Ministry. That Potion had exploded, killing Lucinda. Nine year old Luna had been drawing with her crayons in the lab at the time, far from the explosion. Her skin had come into contact with it, muddling her abilities. Unsurprisingly, the guilt complex had caused Luna to become even more introverted.
"There are different kinds of oddness," Hermione said finally. "If that's a word," she added.
Harry and Ron glanced at each other. This was the girl who had kept her Time Turner a secret for nine months; if Hermione Granger decided she wasn't going to say something - like how she knew Luna could see Auras in the first place - persuasion was futile.
"I'm going back to the dorm," said Ron. "Seamus said that his mam sent him a pack of ginger biscuits."
"I thought Seamus hated ginger bikkies?" said Harry with a frown, before slapping his forehead. "Oh. Right. Well, you must go and offer your assistance then."
Ron smirked and cheerily bid farewell before hopping on to his broom and heading for the castle.
Harry and Hermione watched him go in silence.
"That's not the way to the castle doors," said Hermione after a few seconds.
"Dorm windows," said Harry uneasily.
Hermione groaned. "Boys!" she huffed.
Harry could tell her heart wasn't in it, and grinned briefly. Then he remembered what he'd been wanting to ask for a while. "Ginny wanted to know if you were alright."
Hermione's small smile vanished. She should have known this was coming.
Quite frankly, she never wanted to speak to the youngest Weasley again. In the Future that Hermione had come from, Ginevra Molly Weasley had cheated Harry and Hermione into divorce after Draco Malfoy had killed their infant daughter. She had probably also ensured that any letters of reconciliation from each other never got through.... and even managed to marry Harry afterwards. If Ginny could betray her friendship at a time that she was needed most, then she was no better a friend than Peter Pettigrew.
On the other hand, Ginny had not done so yet. And she had expressed remorse and belatedly commited suicide over it. People could not be punished for what they had not done yet. Hermione wanted to push Ginny away. Not Away as in Over-A-Cliff Away, but just ... away. The trouble with this was that that would push lots of other Weasleys away. Hermione had no problem with that, but Harry would.
"What did she do?" asked Harry after Hermione had remained speechless for over minute.
Hermione sighed. "She doesn't go Wormtail on us, if that's what you're wondering about."
Harry's eyes widened. He had never even considered that possibility. Hermione felt a pang for introducing him to its existence.
"You know she still likes you, right?" stated Hermione.
"She does?" asked Harry, bewildered. "I thought she was over it!"
Hermione shook her head.
"Oh," he replied. Despite his monosyllabic answer, he was actually thinking quite hard about his girlfriend's behaviour in connection with Ginny Weasley. "You know, two days ago, when you told me about - you know - you were cold to Ginny in the morning - what happened? Before that, you were friends with her - what wi... what did she do?"
Hermione's eyes widened. In her past world, Harry had not displayed such perceptiveness this early. She knew he was perceptive, as anyone would be if they were brought up in a house where observing the body language of three enemies was a necessity for avoiding additional punishment, but it was still odd to see him using his powers of observation. He was also doing very well in avoiding saying anything that would give her future origins away to any eavesdroppers. She checked to see if her silencing spell was still up. It was, but she renewed it anyway.
"You don't have to tell me everything," he added, watching her carefully as she bit her lip and looked at the ground. "But tell me something. Ginny is our friend, right?"
Hermione's head shot up and she almost spat angrily. Though she restrained herself in time, Harry got the message that no, Ginny Weasley was not a friend of Hermione Granger.
"You said you got a message," said Harry slowly, "about how we were tricked into not being ... friends for three years. Did she -"
Hermione's jaw dropped. She had underestimated Harry. Part of her was kicking herself for doing so, part of her wanted to hug Harry to death for such a magnificent piece of detective work even if it was a guess, and the rest of her was horrified that he was getting so close to the truth.
It wasn't that she had any objection to changing the future; that had already happened. The problem was that Harry had to grow up on his own, and the more she told him of the future, the fewer opportunities he would have to grow up. Or something like that - she wasn't sure. She wondered briefly if this was what Mister Darcy felt like. In any case, how did you tell someone that their friend would break up their marriage? Besides, Ginny didn't hate Harry - she hated Hermione.
She sighed.
She was too tired to fight.
She nodded.
"Should we stop talking to her?" asked Harry. He wasn't sure if he could. Ginny was becoming a good person to hang out with - she had a good sense of humour, and they shared Quidditch team practice. But if Hermione said... even if she did, he was his own person. She said Ginny didn't become a Death Eater...
Hermione shook her head.
"Tell her I got some bad news from home," said Hermione. Harry waited. "Tell her," she continued, "that I had some bad experiences with some girls from home, and it's difficult for me to talk to girls right now."
"But you're going to talk to Luna now," he pointed out.
She cursed. Harry's eyes would have widened, but he'd heard Hermione curse before. Though he wondered why she muttered apologies to herself whenever she used the word 'bitch'.
"Stick with just the first part then. I'll talk to her later. And you just - you just be normal with her, okay?"
Harry nodded, though he wasn't sure what normal was. He suspected it didn't include going clothes shopping with Ginny like they had the previous weekend. Well, that was easy enough. Clothes shopping was scary. He hadn't known there were so many different kinds of socks.
"Oh no!" cried Hermione, looking at her watch. "I've got to go meet Luna!"
"Er, right," said Harry, who still had more things to say.
"Say, one more thing, I almost forgot, can you break Neville's wand?"
"What?" exclaimed Harry, shocked both at the change of subject and the new subject. "Why?"
"It's not his wand. It's his father's. Their magic isn't compatible. He'll work better if he has his own wand."
"Oh," he said, "sure then." She kissed his cheek in thanks and sped off. Harry looked at her, bewildered.
He hadn't asked her if they could go public yet.
And he hadn't showed her the letter he had got from the Ministry that morning. He was wanted to appear again at the Ministry, this time for 'questioning' regarding the murder of Lucius Malfoy. Questioning wasn't a trial, but...
Harry shook his head. He looked down at his broomstick.
"Up!"
Future Dimension
Luna rifled through the files of the Head Unspeakable's office. The current holder of said office was still asleep, thanks to a potion she had applied to his cutlery. She'd been rather surprised that the man had fallen for a such a simple trick, and quickly looked over her shoulder to make sure he was still communing with the hypnogimbles. He was, thank Selene.
Her search through the man's files was not manual, but spell-based. It was an unbelievably useful indexing spell that Padma had invented. Unfortunately, Padma had never documented how it worked before she was killed - all Luna knew was that there was a lot of arithmancy involved - and neither Luna nor Hermione had ever got around to reinventing it. That was the strange thing about spells - once they had been invented and 'stored in Magic' (an arcane process that was the focus of intensive research around the world), no-one needed to know how it worked.
"Gurglus Dimensional Travel"
This lit up too many of the files.
"Gurglus Dimensional Travel Honeycomb"
Four files.
Luna punched her hand in the air.
"You'll want the second thickest file."
Luna froze for a moment, before ducking and firing a Petrificus at the chair behind her. The empty chair. Then she was frozen, lying flat on the floor.
Algernon Croaker walked over to her, and levitated her to the couch. He released the petrification above her shoulders so she could speak.
"If you were searching on information about dimensional travel," he said kindly, "why didn't you just ask?"
Luna said nothing. She was busy trying to figure a way out.
"You kids of the Harry Potter generation," he sighed, shaking his head. "You were failed by the adults in your life so much that the thought of asking us for help has totally vanished as an option. Really, I want to know. Why didn't you ask us for help? We know what Akela was investigating when she disappeared. Who do you think signed the authorization forms when she applied for permission to research the Honeycomb of Infinite Dimensions? We knew that she would try to investigate more than she asked permission to investigate - many Unspeakables do that, it's our nature as curious kids who never grow up. We have two teams working on trying to figure out what happened."
Luna's eyes widened. "What? Why didn't you tell us that?" She was starting to get angry now. "Why didn't you invite me to help?"
Croaker looked at her calculatingly. "We wanted to see what you would do. We hoped you would approach us for help. Which is why I am asking, for the third time, why didn't you?"
Luna blinked. She honestly didn't know. Croaker was on the mark when he said that those of the Potter crowd had given up on Ministry adults a long time ago. Which was, in retrospect, a slight problem since she was effectively a Ministry adult now.
"I was waiting for Romulus to come back from Nepal," she said, referring to Remus Lupin. It wasn't much of an answer, since this was not close to any of the werewolf's areas of expertise. Besides, while he was the only person above fifty whom Potteristas trusted, he spent most of his time outside the British Isles. In a battle against Bellatrix Lestrange, he had been placed in a situation where he effectively had to choose between the lives of Harry and Tonks. He had chosen Harry, and Bella's green spell ended the life of only the second woman Remus had ever loved. Remus immediately charged Bella, knocked her out with a heavy fist, disapparated with her, and returned a week later. He never spoke of what happened to her.
Croaker stared at her. He scratched his short grey beard and adjusted his monocle. He didn't even bother saying that he didn't buy her statement.
"You would have stopped us."
That was more believable. Croaker nodded. "I see. Akela is one of the brightest sparks of your generation. I would have stopped you getting her back. She would be proud of your logic."
"I didn't want to get her in trouble," Luna said weakly. It sounded silly in retrospect. "Have you found anything about Akela?"
"Of course we have," he replied.
Present Dimension
Harry flew high over the rooftops of Hogwarts, thinking about nothing in particular. In other words, he was thinking about everything in general. He wondered idly if this was what Hermione's mind felt like, with thoughts jumping up and down clamouring for attention and beating other thoughts down like schadenfraudic frogs in a pit.
He really needed to work on his analogies.
In any case, now that Hermione Thought had popped up, it was unwilling to go away.
Harry Potter sighed. He shoved aside his thoughts of the Ministry's letter.
She was from the Future. A future where he had, apparently, beaten Voldemort. The girl, the little bossy chit who he had met in a train compartment five years ago, had grown up... and returned. She was a killer, she had killed several people, including Lucius Malfoy and (indirectly) Vernon Dursley ... what on earth had the war done to her?
How many people had Harry killed in the future?
It occurred to him that perhaps Hermione was trying to reduce the number of people they needed to kill eventually by killing key people off early.
Oh, and she loved him.
There was a blip in his peripheral vision. He turned. There was another figure flying around... flying towards him... long black hair, probably female, high cheekbones... Cho. He smiled grimly to himself, realizing that the crush he had had on the second-generation Briton was long gone.
"Hello, Harry," she said uncertainly, drawing up near him.
"Hi, Cho," he replied. He gave her a small grin, or at least tried to.
They remained like that for a minute, hovering silently, wondering what to say. Finally Cho took a deep breath and began speaking.
"I talked to Hermione the other day," said the witch, "or rather, she talked to me." She gulped and stared ahead so he could only see her in profile. "We talked about Cedric..."
Harry winced, and began to apologize.
"Shut up, Harry Potter."
Harry Potter shut up.
"She warned me actually," said Cho, giving him a wry look, "that you felt guilty about it. You shouldn't. He wouldn't blame you. I knew him better than anyone except maybe his mum, and I know he wouldn't blame you."
Harry didn't believe her, but he felt a few weights in his psyche lift regardless. He muttered a thanks or two.
"I wondered if you could do me a favour, though."
Harry looked up at her face, and motioned for her to continue.
"It would be hard - but - I'd like to know how he died. Exactly."
Harry's eyes hardened.
"Please, Harry," begged Cho. "I need to know! You don't know what's it's been like all summer - oh sorry, I guess maybe you do - I'm rambling here - look, if the person you loved more than anything in the world, the person who meant more to you than anything, suddenly got - murdered, wouldn't you want to know everything about how they died? Even if it hurts?"
Harry's eyes widened. He had never thought about that before, partly because he had never thought in terms of loving other people. That wasn't to say he didn't love others; it was just that he didn't think about it much. Except Cho, but that was old hat. But now, if Hermione died...
The horrified look on his face showed that he had never thought about it before. Sure, he knew intellectually that it could happen, but he had never thought about it.
Cho, like most other people, knew that Harry had been seeing his best female friend in a new light of late. She had heard a few Ravenclaw boys groaning about it.
"Do you have a Pensieve?" he asked finally.
Future Dimension
"You are familiar with the Tree of Time Travel?" asked Croaker rhetorically.
Luna didn't bother to nod. She knew he liked to lecture, and she was busy trying to break the petrification spell cast on her. The longer her boss spoke, the more time she had.
"Helga Hufflepuff was a remarkable witch," said Croaker. "Rowena Ravenclaw was undoubtedly the smartest founder, but her personality was rather prickly. Rowena was not a patient witch. She found the concept of team work ludicrous. On the other hand, when you were as smart as her, you didn't need team work."
Luna concentrated on breaking the spell around her chest, since that was where her body magic was strongest. If she could just cause one rip...
"Everyone knows that Helga's Animagus form was a badger. Sheer doggedness, that woman. But Hufflepuffs are team workers, while badgers are not. Ever wondered about that? I'll tell you - her Patronus was a swarm of bees. Individually not much, together they could sting a lion to death.
The petrification spell refused to rip.
"Helga had several students - she and her apprentices discovered more than Rowena ever did. Of course, what they discovered was complementary to what Rowena did; Ravenclaw made the breakthrough, Helga et al did the follow up while Rowena got bored or depressed and moved on to something else."
"Helga married Rodrick Ravenclaw, Rowena's brother. Of course, she didn't change her name - that Muggle custom was still being absorbed in those days, not that any of the old families will admit it. Helga and Rodrick had five daughters..."
Luna remembered why meetings involving both Akela and Croaker sometimes took a tad longer than usual. And that didn't even include their favourite sport of firing down the other's ideas.
"... the oldest of whom were twin daughters Cymbeline Hufflepuff and Catherine Ravenclaw. They apprenticed with their mother and proposed a Theory of Time Travel that was proved correct several centuries later, and developed substantially by various arithmancers in the nineteenth and twentieth century."
Luna gave up on trying to rip the spell near her chest. Instead she took a breather. After a while, she tried flexing her fingers.
"The Time Tree has an infinite number of paths. Each branch of the tree is based on different outcomes of a principal event..."
He's finally getting somewhere, thought Luna. The Dimensional Honeycomb that lay deep within the bowels of the Department of Mysteries was the only known portal in Western Europe to the Time Tree. She wondered if his lecture would include that.
"...like Lily Potter killing Tom Riddle with the Storge Charm in 1981, or of the failed assassination attempt of Grindelwald in 1934 by Beatrice Dumbledore... "
Luna winced in sympathy for her former headmaster. Beatrice was Albus Dumbledore's wife. She was one of a team of Anglo-French assassins whose failed mission to kill the Swiss Dark Wizard in Berlin had led to their immediate execution by his entourage. It had taken eleven years for Albus to finish her job.
She then felt, to her surprise and delight, a slight tingle in her left forefinger.
Speaking of Dumblefore... it was another well kept secret, known only to perhaps a dozen Unspeakables, that Albus Dumbledore was one of those people who had jumped branches of the Time Tree before. It was why he had allowed Harry to grow up with the Dursleys. The Albus Dumbledore Luna had known had jumped to their Dimension from a Future Dimension where he had taken Harry out of the Dursley's abusive care. That Harry, who had no blood protection of his mother's, had been killed in his first year by Voldemort over the Philosopher's Stone. Voldemort had gone on to win, and Albus had barely managed to escape with his life by diving through the Dimensional Honeycomb that Akela had also disappeared through.
"... We know you sent a message to Akela. In case you were wondering, it got through."
Luna breathed a huge sigh of relief. This meant that Hermione, wherever she was, was alive - at least in Spirit. It also meant that Croaker's team knew more than Luna did; perhaps Harry would be able to follow his love sooner than Luna had expected. If it was possible to follow.
"Do you know," asked Luna, "if Akela went to a different branch of the Time Tree?"
"Her body did not survive the journey. We found it incinerated deep inside the Honeycomb."
"Oh!" exclaimed Luna, shocked. This meant that Hermione's magic, though in the top two percent of all witches and wizards, was not strong enough. Hermione's strength was in controlling her magic, not in the strength of the magic itself. That was the forte of wizards like Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle (who both had immense control) and Harry Potter (who had far less control, though he had improved since his Hogwarts days).
"So," mused Luna, "that means that she went to a Dimension that was compatible with our past. But her arrival there would have been a Principal Event, so it would have branched off into another Dimension. Our two Dimensions are no longer compatible. Which means I can't follow her."
Croaker nodded. "Yes. Her soul obviously survived, since otherwise your message to her would not have arrived in her Dimension. Which means her soul has taken over her past self."
Luna winced. There were various ethical issues here, chief of which was whether this meant that Hermione had unwittingly murdered her past self.
"Incidentally," asked Croaker, "have you managed to free your fingers yet?"
Present Dimension
Hermione approached the base of the Ravenclaw Tower. This wasn't the first time she had done so, even in this timeline. She knew several Ravenclaws through Arithmancy, Runes, and Charms projects, but they usually met for group projects in classrooms and the library.
Surprisingly, she had note made any Ravenclaw friends till she had left Hogwarts. It had been one of her great regrets. She had been too dismissive to really befriend Luna until they began working together afterwards, while Padma later told her that the Ravenclaws had mistaken her composed mask - really a defense for her own inherent lack of self confidence - as proud snobby aloofness.
Hermione smiled, remembering the movie night when she had really bonded with Padma and Luna. They had the Patil's house to themselves, since Parvati was on a hot date with some wizard who drove in the Muggle Formula Three championship, and Mr and Mrs Patil were visiting family in India. Mrs Patil was a second generation Muggleborn, which explained why their house had Muggle equipment like televisions and video players. They were watching Casablanca while dipping chocolate sticks in chocolate fondue ... until the choc sticks finished before the fondue did and they had to resort to dipping carrots and celery instead. More fond memories came to mind, of the brown-skinned witch vehemently trying to convince the blonde-haired Pureblood witch that the reason the film was in black and white was because the real Muggle world was really just shades of grey fifty years ago. Luna was having none of it, of course, pointing out that the narglesprites that she could see in Sam's piano were the real reason all the colour had been sucked out of the film...
Hermione hadn't talked to Padma yet. It was too difficult. Padma was the closest friend to Hermione to die during the war, with the possible exception of Sirius. And besides, Hermione didn't have much free time. Brewing Potions in secret in the Room of Requirements and assassinating Death Eaters didn't happen by itself.
Which was why she was currently cursing her timing. The Patil twins were standing at the base of the tower, having a conversation in rapid Gujarati. Or Hindi; it wasn't as if Hermione could tell. She knew they spoke both languages.
Parvati noticed her first, and nudged her twin as her eyes widened.
Padma blinked at the sight of the approaching brunette.
"Hello Hermione," said Padma, "what brings you to this part of town?"
Hermione racked her brains to try and remember what Future Padma had taught her about Gujarati greetings.
"Er - shubh savar, Padma, Parvati," replied Hermione.
The twins, in a rare moment of unison, blinked, grinned, and chuckled simultaneously. "Shubh saandhya, Hermione!" they cried before breaking out into laughter. Padma gave her a quick hug. Parvati, after a quick look of surprise, did so as well.
"Bugger," said Hermione. "I messed up again - I said Good Morning instead of Good Evening, didn't I?"
"Yes," said Parvati, "but you tried!"
"Again?" asked Padma.
Hermione went over what she had said and winced internally. She hoped the twins didn't notice. "We have new neighbours," she quickly said. "They taught me a few phrases over the summer."
Parvati seemed to be about to ask why Hermione hadn't tried to use the phrases before - she did share a dorm with Hermione, after all - so Hermione quickly moved to dodge the question.
"Sorry to bring this up so soon, Padma, but is Luna Lovegood in?"
"Loony?" asked Padma, wondering what Hermione had to do with the odd blonde. Her sister had told her of Hermione's declaration at the Gryffindor table that Luna was 'really smart' and was curious. "Sure, wait a bit." She gave said sister a glance before nodding at Hermione and popping in to the Ravenclaw common room.
Hermione winced as she heard Padma bellowing up the tower, "OY LOVEGOOD! GET YOUR ARSE DOWN HERE! GRANGER'S ASKING FOR YOU!"
Parvati grinned. "Don't worry, Hermione. It's for the girl's good. Padma tells me her dorm-mates don't like her too much - they take her things and stuff; if people know you talk to her, they might stop."
Hermione frowned. "If people know she's bullied, why don't they stop the bullies? She lost her mum before she got here, for goodness' sake!"
Parvati's eyes widened. "Really?"
Hermione frowned. "You don't know?"
Parvati winced. "Hey, just because I'm ... informed ... "
Hermione chuckled. "Easy, Vati. You're one of my prime sources of information; I'm not knocking that. I mean that the Lovegoods are Purebloods; I thought every Pureblood knew that the Editor of the Quibbler lost his wife five years ago. And since your information network is better than that of most Purebloods..."
Parvati thought for a moment. Hermione's cynical self thought this was an unusual sight. "Yes, I suppose we did know that. It's one thing to have two pieces of information, it's another to add them."
Padma returned, grinning. "She'll be down soon."
"Hermione here was just wondering why no-one stands up for Loony - Luna," said Parvati.
Padma winced. But before she could say anything, Luna turned up at the door, eyes wide.
"Hello, Hermione," said the fourth year. "Have you come to tell me where I can find some Snorkacks?"
Hermione grimaced briefly. She was acutely aware of the Patil's inquiring look. The idea of Hermione Granger believing in Snorkacks... Well, there was only one thing she could do in this game of Hogwarts Witch Politics...
"Yes, Luna, I'm sorry I didn't believe in them before, but I was wrong. I've heard of some new discoveries from," Hermione paused dramatically, and nodded in apology to the Patils. "- from some interesting sources. We'll need your expertise, perhaps your father's too. Coming?"
Luna nodded calmly, and began walking in the direction of the classrooms. She looked back once to nod in thanks to Padma. Hermione quickly bid farewell ("Fari malshun!" - "See you later!") to the Patils and followed her.
Padma looked at their retreating backs before turning expectantly to her sister. They spoke in Gujarati out of habit since no-one else was around. Though, if you asked them afterwards which language they had been using, they would not have been able to remember.
"Hermione's changed," said Parvati, knowing her sister wanted information.
"For the past month or two?" asked Padma. Her twin nodded. "She's been doing that in Runes and Rith too. She doesn't raise her hands so much. It's as if she doesn't care for points any more."
Parvati shook her head. "No, it's not that. She always wanted to prove herself. Now she doesn't. I don't think she feels she needs to prove herself any more."
"Took her a while to figure that out," said Padma.
"McGonagall's not pleased," said the Gryffindor. "Fewer House points for us. Dunno if she has talked to Hermione about it, though."
"How many secrets does she have?" asked Padma after a few seconds of silence. "And for Shiva's sake, sister, fix her pronunciation!"
"You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!" is the last line of the 1892 poem 'Gunga Din' by Rudyard Kipling. I hate poetry (I just don't understand it, unless it's by Roger McGough) but it's a famous line. So when Harry uses the phrase, he's complimenting Krum's better ability as a Seeker.
I hope the Gujarati translations are okay. I realize that spellings with the English alphabet differ.
Suggestions for fan art and appropriate pictures to throw in are welcomed - Portkey allows easy modifications of chapters long after they are first posted.
The letter from the Ministry is the start of the backlash against Hermione's changes. It's not all going to be plain sailing.
If you were Future Harry, and had the choice of following Hermione to a different dimension and staying with your two infant children with a spouse you are now rather angry with, what would you do? Remember that Harry grew up without parents, and that Future Ginny is dead.
My favourite quote in this chapter is "All you need to play Quidditch is a thick head and an allergy to common sense."
The idea of the Weasleys being Broom Hackers is fun too, if I do say so myself. (Which I do.)
As for Gurglus... if Sergey Brin and Larry Page aren't wizards, flame me.
The episode of watching Casablanca while eating fondue remains one of my fondest memories from a visit to York with a bunch of cute chem geeks. Ah, bliss... not a bad movie either.
