Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: Hey guys! Here's another update to finish Harry and Hermione's time in Australia! Also, in answer to a question I received, this story will most likely be between 55-60 chapters when completed, and surpass Goblet of Fire in length, maybe even Deathly Hallows. Also, thanks to those of you who reviewed! And please continue to do so!

Chapter 16: Reunion

Within seconds the door was opened by a small woman with shoulder-length wavy brown hair who was wearing, Hermione noted with a pang of amusement, denim overalls. Hermione almost snickered -- her all-too-fashionable mother would never have been caught dead in such an outfit. Her mother smiled brightly, and Hermione had to control the urge to envelop her in a bone-crushing hug.

"Why hello!" Hermione's mother said cheerfully, shielding her eyes from the sun. "Can I help you with something?"

Hermione bit her lip, suddenly aware that she had planned nothing beyond this point. How was she going to convince her parents to let two strangers into their home?

Harry was quick with this realization, however, and promptly stepped forward, his hand outstretched in greeting. "Good morning, ma'am! Mrs. Wilkins, isn't it? What a beautiful home you have!"

Mrs. Granger smiled all the more brightly, turning her attention to Harry. "Why thank you, young man! It's quite pleasant to have your hard work appreciated. Now, if you don't mind my asking, what is it that you want?"

Harry flashed his most brilliant smile. "I sure can't get anything past you, ma'am! The two of us were just wondering if you'd like to learn something about a new line of sweets we're trying to put on the market."

Mrs. Granger narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What sort of sweets?"

"Sugar-free, of course." Harry replied without hesitation.

Her demeanor didn't change. "Aren't you two a little old to be selling candy? And too young to be opening a company?"

"What can we say?" Harry said, placing his hand on a bewildered Hermione's shoulder. "We're ambitious."

A sparkle set into Mrs. Granger's brown eyes, and an ecstatic smile graced her features. "Well I should say so! I suppose it wouldn't hurt to hear a bit of what you have to say." She opened the door a bit wider to allow their entry as she yelled for her husband.

"A sugar-free candy company?" Hermione said incredulously as she and Harry were led to a small sitting room.

"She bought it, didn't she?" Harry replied smugly. "I suppose it's the dentist in her."

Hermione's only response was a roll of her eyes. She fought to hold back a smile but failed miserably. Damn his charm.

As soon as Mrs. Granger had settled them onto a soft red sofa, what could only be Mr. Granger entered the room. He was wearing a pair of thin wire glasses low on his nose, and familiar brown eyes peered over them to gaze irritably at his wife. Hermione noted with a shock that in addition to his short-cropped brown hair, he had apparently decided to grow a beard.

"Can't you ever let me read the paper in peace?" he said, waving a newspaper in the direction of his wife. Hermione couldn't help but smile. Same old dad. "I thought you were going out to tend the garden."

"I was, but these two intercepted me at the door. They have a business proposition to discuss with us."

Mr. Granger raised his brows. "Oh, really? Let's hear it then," he said, taking a seat next to his wife across from Harry and Hermione.

Before either could respond, Crookshanks suddenly slunk into the room. Hermione had to suppress a cry of glee as the cat turned its yellow eyes to her. Then the cat, in an unusual show of excitement, dashed to his owner and leapt onto her lap, mewing furiously and rubbing his head delightedly against Hermione's arm.

Mrs. Granger looked a bit surprised as Hermione began stroking the cat, a huge smile on her face at her reunion with her pet.

"That's strange - he never seems to take to people like that."

Hermione slowed in her petting, and glanced up nervously. "I suppose I'm just good with animals," she said, removing Crookshanks regretfully from her lap.

"I guess so," said Mrs. Granger as the cat jumped lightly onto her own lap. "Anyway, what about this business proposition?"

The couple looked expectantly at the teenagers, and Hermione let out a deep sigh. "Well, Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins, the truth is…" Hermione quickly drew her wand and pointed it at the astonished couple. "You aren't really Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins!"

"Real subtle, Hermione," Harry murmured.

Hermione's parents stood in surprise (causing Crookshanks to zoom from the room), but before they could do anything she had cast the counter-spell, the force of it pushing them back into their seats. The pupils of their eyes flashed white for the briefest second before returning to their natural shade. Hermione watched her parents anxiously as they shook their heads in a disoriented manner, casting their eyes confusedly about the room.

"What's going on?" Mrs. Granger said, looking with perplexed expression at her own attire. "And what on God's earth am I wearing?"

Hermione grinned in triumph; this was her mother, all right.

"And what's on my face?" Mr. Granger said, looking as puzzled as his wife as he stroked his newly discovered beard. He glanced at his daughter suspiciously. "Perhaps Hermione would like to fill us in?"

"Gladly," Hermione said, and for the first time in over a year she walked over and hugged her parents fiercely.

She spent the next hour informing Mr. and Mrs. Granger of all that had occurred in the last year. Or most of it, at least. Hermione had always had limitations on what she told her parents about magic, and this was no exception. She told her parents that she had placed them under an identity-changing spell to protect them ("Not from fashion, obviously," Mrs. Granger had said sullenly. "I would never be caught dead in this outfit.") and a brief outline of the adventures she and Harry and Ron had had. Mrs. Granger particularly seemed to enjoy the snippet about the dragon ("A real dragon? Right under London? And to think I've been worried about the neighbor's dog getting loose in the street.").

However, Mr. Granger did not seem quite as thrilled with these adventures as his spouse was. Hermione guessed it might have something to do with the fact that she had shared a tent with two boys for almost a year. She watched apprehensively as her father looked Harry up and down, glaring slightly. Harry didn't exactly look comfortable either.

"So, Harry, is it? Is this all that happened on this little adventure of yours?" Mr. Granger said affably, standing up and placing a large hand on Harry's shoulder. Hermione noticed that her father was at least a good four inches shorter than Harry's six-foot-one. Maybe five inches.

"Yes, sir, I believe Hermione pretty much covered everything," Harry answered, fidgeting nervously.

"Are you positive about that, Harvey?" Mr. Granger said.

"Benjamin, stop interrogating the boy," Mrs. Granger said in exasperation. "And you know good and well that his name is Harry. Hermione talks about him enough after all."

Hermione bowed her head slightly in hopes of hiding the blush that had spread to her cheeks.

"What are you talking about?" Mr. Granger said, releasing his grip from Harry's arm and turning to his wife. "We were just having a friendly conversation."

"Sure you were, darling," Mrs. Granger said. "And if you were any friendlier you would probably be arrested for assault. Now come sit down and let them finish their story."

Mr. Granger submitted to his wife's request and returned to his seat, mumbling slightly under his breath. Hermione was amused by this newfound side of her father. The usually quiet tempered, thoughtful, scholarly man rarely confronted people in such a rude manner. It appeared that teenage hormones brought out the worst in adults as well.

"Well, I don't think there's much else to tell," Hermione said, turning her eyes to her mother as Harry also settled himself back into his original seat. "After the war ended, I spent a few weeks at the Burrow with Ron's family, helping with post-war repairs and what not. And this morning I went over to Harry's home and asked him to accompany me to come here and bring you both back to England."

"So soon?" Mrs. Granger sighed, casting her eyes longingly out of the living room window. "But we've just arrived!"

"Obviously not, Katherine," Mr. Granger said. "From what Hermione tells us, we've been in Australia for over a year. I think we've been away quite long enough."

Mrs. Granger sighed exaggeratingly once more. "I suppose you're right," she said, standing up abruptly and smoothing out the wrinkles in her overalls. "Well, let's get to it, then. No point in dilly-dallying. I imagine my house-plants are dead-as-a-doornail by now."

"No offense, mother," said Hermione, "but they probably would have been dead whether or not you were actually at home to water them. I really don't know how you managed to keep that front garden in such good shape."

"I have a garden?" Mrs. Granger said dubiously, ignoring her daughter's first comment. She scampered over to the window and looked into her front yard. "Huh. Well what do you know! Mrs. Wilkins apparently had quite the green thumb." She turned excitedly. "Maybe it rubbed off on me!"

"I doubt it," Mr. Granger said.

"And why would that be?" Mrs. Granger asked, her hands on her hips.

"You've never been able to keep a plant alive for more than a few weeks before. I just don't think a few months with another person's psyche would change that."

"I think it might."

"Honey, you've killed plastic plants before," Mr. Granger said soothingly.

Mrs. Granger's shoulders slumped in defeat.

**********

Harry spent the next few hours helping the Grangers pack up their belongings. The procedure went by much more quickly than it would have the Muggle way. Harry and Hermione would levitate the objects Mr. and Mrs. Granger would set aside into their respective boxes, shrink the boxes, and then place the shrunken boxes into another box. By the time noon rolled around, the house was almost bare and it would appear to any passerby that the Grangers only had a box of belongings to their names.

"The little boxes are so cute!" Mrs. Granger said happily, holding one of sugar-cube sized boxes up to the light. "And to think that my entire shoe wardrobe fits in there!"

"Yes, I would never have guessed it myself," Mr. Granger said as he placed dinner plates delicately in a padded box (he didn't trust Harry's magic with the fragile china and Hermione was busy with her shrinking charms). "Though, frankly, I'm still flabbergasted that they can fit in the city of London."

Mrs. Granger sneered slightly at her husband as she replaced the little box. Her daughter quickly added a few more of the little boxes and then sealed the larger box with a final flourish of her wand.

"Well," Hermione said, "I think that's everything."

"It appears so," Mrs. Granger said, surveying the empty room they were in. "That didn't take long at all. We would have been here for hours if it hadn't been for you two."

"Technically, we wouldn't be here it all if it hadn't been for those two," Mr. Granger said, and was met with a quick elbow in the gut, courtesy of Mrs. Granger. "I was only kidding!" he groaned, rubbing his stomach slightly.

"We really do appreciate it," Mrs. Granger said sweetly, patting her husband on the back. "Don't we, Ben?"

"Yes, we do," Mr. Granger grumbled, and retrieved his wallet from his back pocket as he turned to Harry. "I suppose I should give you a little something for your troubles," he said, flipping the wallet open and ruffling through some bills.

"Oh, no sir, that won't be -" Harry froze mid-sentence, and swiftly smacked his fist into his forehead.

"Damn it!" he exclaimed. "Fiddlesticks still has my wallet!"

Mr. Granger looked at the boy oddly. "Excuse me?"

"Dad, Fiddlesticks is a wallaby," Hermione explained, giggling at Harry's dilemma.

Hermione's father shook his head. "You do realize that clarifies absolutely nothing for me, right?"

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said, stepping slightly away from Mr. Granger. "I'd help unpack at your parents' house, but I really need to go take care of this."

Hermione laughed. "Yeah, I bet Fiddlesticks is maxing out your credit card as we speak."

"First of all, you know I don't have a credit card, and secondly, the little bugger probably would be if I actually did have one," Harry said. "How about I meet you there in a bit?"

"Sure, that's fine," Hermione said. "But you don't have to come over there if you have other things to do."

"No, I want to," Harry said. "This shouldn't take too long." And with a pop he Apparated out of sight.

Mrs. Granger clapped her hands together in delight. "That's amazing! And that's so sweet of him to come and help us unpack."

"Yes, that is rather sweet of him," Hermione said, a pink tinge coming to her cheeks.

"And how are we getting back?" Mr. Granger said.

"Do you have your stuff?" Hermione replied.

Mr. Granger simply held up the box in response.

"We're leaving the same way he just did," Hermione said. "Can one of you pick up Crookshanks?"

Mrs. Granger lifted the cat into her arms, and then went nervously to Hermione's side. Hermione then gripped both of her parent's tightly by the arm and disappeared from the house, feeling that a new life, a life truly free from war, could finally begin.

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