Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Moments in Love	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 175861 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 14
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights belong to Rowling. Nor do I make any money from the story.

Chapter List
- 60
- 61
- 62
Truth and Reconciliation

It was hard to believe that it was already December 3rd, and even harder to believe that barely more than two weeks had passed since the Potters and their friends had fled Hogwarts. Ginny wasn’t sure how much to tell Luna about what had happened since they had left. The last thing she wanted was to worry her girlfriend and Harry and Hermione.
Ginny supposed that things could be worse. McLaggen would be out for the rest of the year and Towler was giving her a wide berth. And when Goyle had returned from St Mungo’s a week after that fateful Friday, hobbling around on a wooden leg and crutches, he and Crabbe had put to rest much of the disinformation being spread on the Wiz-Vision.
Up until that point far too many Hogwarts students were inclined to believe the Ministry’s version of events despite all of Ginny’s and Katie’s and Alicia’s attempts to set the record straight. Loads of people had really seemed to take seriously the notion that Harry and Hermione had assassinated Draco Malfoy.
Ginny still couldn’t quite believe that Crabbe and Goyle had publicly backed her up. They had told everyone who would listen that it was all Draco’s fault, and that it was really Daphne and Ginny who had killed him while defending themselves. By midweek, the truth had spread and was the talk of the school.
But the Carrows had finally caught wind that something was amiss, and by Friday they had determined to put an end to it. And that was when the real trouble had begun. Ginny had almost laughed out loud when Ron had showed up for lunch clad in naught but his boxers and a scowl on his scarlet face. All eyes in the Great Hall had swiveled to take a look and giggles filled the Hall.
The giggles had died down, replaced by murmurs and gasps of bewilderment when Ron was followed by a similarly attired Neville Longbottom, and a Susan Bones wearing nothing but a bra and knickers.
“What happened?” asked Ginny, shock written all over her face.
“That fucking bitch - Alecto Carrow!” Ron muttered as he savagely speared a banger and flung a serving-spoon full of mashed potatoes onto his plate so violently that it splattered all over the table.
“We knew the risks, Ron!” said Neville stoically.
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Ginny asked again.
“Ron called Professor Carrow a liar,” said Seamus who looked both sympathetic and impressed.
“He what? ... Why?” Ginny gasped.
“Carrow was goin’ on abou’ how Harry was a traitorous rebel an’ a murderer during Defence Against the Dark Arts,” Seamus replied. “...Said all the talk about you and Daphne killing Malfoy in self defence was lies. So Ron jus’ up and gave her what-for... said that Harry was a hero and called her a liar to her face...”
“Ron, you idiot!” said Ginny half-heartedly, sounding more sympathetic than anything. Ron said nothing, averting his eyes while shoveling mashed potato into his mouth.
“He was really brave,” said Lavender, seeing Ron with new eyes.
“But vot is with lack of clothes?” Viktor asked his girlfriend, “And vy Neville and Susan also?”
“Professor Carrow told Ron he was out of order and that he didn’t know what he was talking about,” answered Lavender. “So Neville supported Ron and said the Ministry was making things up, then Susan jumped in to support Ron and Neville...”
“...Then Carrow vanished all o’ their clothes before anyone else had a chance to say anything,” Seamus interjected, “and told ‘em they had to go to classes the rest o’ the day like tha’... and that they had to eat lunch in the Great Hall. Then she said if they caused any more trouble she’d vanish their underwear too...”
“And it’s bloody freezing in the castle,” Ron muttered angrily as he heaped more bangers and mash on his plate.
Ginny had frowned and eaten the rest of her lunch in silence, thinking that perhaps Ron and Neville and Susan had been very lucky that Professor Carrow hadn’t forced them to go starkers right from the get-go. The story had spread quickly around the school and by Sunday everyone knew that the Carrows meant business and weren’t going to put up with any more talk about what had really happened to Draco Malfoy.
And so that was how Ginny found herself lying on her bed Sunday morning, staring at her mirror and wondering how much to tell Luna. Ginny had a bad feeling that the Carrows were chomping at the bit to start implementing corporal punishment if anyone else stepped out of line, and Ginny knew that if she told Luna what was going on at Hogwarts she would just worry herself silly...

~o0o~
“Ginny says everything’s fine,” Luna told Hermione when she asked how Ginny was doing at breakfast. “But I’m not sure that she’s telling the truth... I mean, Ginny’s obviously alright, but I think someone else might have got in trouble.”
“I hope Ron hasn’t done anything stupid,” Harry sighed.
“Well, he should be okay, right?” said Parvati uncertainly. “Ginny could’ve got in loads of trouble after what happened to Malfoy, but Percy didn’t let anything happen to her.”
Hermione frowned worriedly as she ate her poached egg on toast, wondering how bad things might get at Hogwarts if the Minister got too frustrated. She suspected it was only a matter of time before Minister Umbridge let the Carrows take things out on some of the students, if only to try and force Harry and Dumbledore to turn themselves in. But Hermione didn’t voice her concerns, not wanting to worry Harry.
After breakfast the Potters and their friends hit the books again. They found a number of spells which looked useful that they hadn’t learned yet in the advanced books from Number Twelve’s library. Harry had discovered the Firestorm spell which Mad Eye had told him about, and also a powerful Shield Penetration spell in one of the books.
“These two would be good to practice as a Coven. I think Voldemort and some of his Death Eaters must have used the Shield Penetration spell at Hogwarts when they were attacking from the mountainside. And the Firestorm spell should be easier to control than a Dark spell like Fiendfyre,” Harry told everyone as they sat in a circle on the floor of their refurbished practice room.
“I want to rescue any prisoners they might have, blast the place to bits and burn it to the ground,” he continued. “But I don’t want to start something that could spread uncontrollably. And I want to avoid killing unless we absolutely have to.”
“That sounds good Harry!” said Hermione. “What do you think Dora?”
“That sounds like a good plan to me too,” Dora nodded. “Anyway, we won’t all have time to learn all of these spells,” Dora mused as she perused the list of spells that everyone had come up with. “Some we’ll have to forget about. And others we should portion out - just a few of us should concentrate on learning them...”
“For example, I already know the Homorphus Charm - that’s the one for forcing a werewolf or animagus or someone who has disguise spells on them back into their true form. I could teach a couple of you that one.”
“That makes sense Dora,” Hermione agreed. “I wouldn’t mind learning the Homorphous Charm. What about the spell that Daphne found - the one that detects Proximity Alarm Charms and disarms them?”
“Yeah...” Dora muttered as she chewed a fingernail. “Yeah... I think you’re right Hermione. We don’t all need to know that one, but at least two of us do - we should be prepared to split into two smaller four person teams if necessary...”
“I don’t want us to split up...” Harry interjected, feeling a surge of anxiety.
“But we might have to - Dora’s right Harry!” said Hermione. “We need to be prepared for that possibility. We all have mirrors, so we’ll be in constant communication.”
“Okay... I suppose so!” Harry sighed. “But not unless it’s absolutely necessary!”
“Alright then Harry,” said Dora. “If we do ‘ave to split up, I’ll lead the second team. I’m thinking that for the most balanced teams, it should be me and Fleur with Jennifer and Daphne. You and Hermione should be with Luna and Parvati. So I suppose I’ll learn the Alarm Detectin’ and Disarming Spell. Haha... Never thought I’d ever be learnin’ breaking and entering spells,” Dora chuckled. “You should be the other one to learn it, Harry.”
“Maybe I should learn a basic healing spell then,” said Parvati, her brows knitted in thought. “You and Fleur are the only ones who know that one Dora.”
“Good point Parvati,” agreed Dora.
“I want to learn the Piertotum Locomotor spell,” said Luna with a grin. “It’s like a good version of the Inferius Curse. It was used mostly to animate and direct regiments of suits of armour and statues to fight for their masters in battles, instead of reanimating dead bodies.”
Hermione smiled, having guessed that the “Bedknobs and Broomsticks” spell would probably appeal to Luna.
“Ooooh... I like the sound of that one!” Daphne said excitedly. “Maybe I’ll give that one a go too.”
“If you can manage it, you two - that one’ll take a bit of doin’ - but I’ve ‘eard that’s a good one. It oughta’ work on any group of objects and cause them to hurtle at the enemy,” chortled Dora. “Now, I already know ‘ow to Obliviate, but someone on your team Harry...”
“I’ll do that one too,” said Hermione. “Harry’s going to have enough to deal with as it is. And I was thinking, in terms of Coven spells, that some of the other spells most important to focus on will probably be the more advanced shield spells, Harry.”
“Right!” Harry agreed. “Well, we’ve all got our work cut out for us. We’ll be up against a load of highly trained Ministry wizards, so we need to keep up on our combat spells, and make sure that we’re up to scratch. Any other ideas?”
“Per’aps for ze mission, we should bring some electronic equipment, such as Jennifer’s portable radio and mobile phone,” said Fleur. “When they start to go crazy and stop working properly, we shall know zat we are close to magical area.”
“That’s genius, Fleur!” Harry exclaimed. “That’s the last thing the Ministry would expect to have to counter for at a hidden facility away from any muggle cities.”
“I am only uncertain - how do we find ze place if it has Unplottable or Fidelius Charms?” asked Fleur.
“Too many Ministry wizards will need access to the facilities for a Fidelius Charm to be feasible,” Hermione answered. “And for similar reasons, it’s nearly certain that they will only have the mapping version of the Unplottable Charm - not the visual-field version. It should be visible to wizards once we’re very near it.”
“Alright... I think we’ve nearly got everything covered,” said Harry. “I'll check everyone's Runic and Chinese Symbol Tattoos... make sure they haven’t faded. Anybody else have something to add?”
“If we’re going to be searching in woods and mountains for hidden places, we might be gone for days,” said Jennifer. “I’ve got loads of camping gear, but you’ll need to put that Space Extension Charm on the tent so that there’s room for all of us in it, Hermione.”
“Good idea,” said Hermione, nodding as she added it to the preparation list. “Now, this mission isn’t just about destroying these facilities and fighting whoever’s running them. If we want to go after the Ministry openly and directly, we need evidence that Luna’s father and Rita Skeeter can show when they break into the Wiz-Vision broadcasts.
“So we need to consider how to go about that... There’s nothing in the books as the magic television system is really new. I’m not sure exactly what Dumbledore has in mind, perhaps showing copies of our memories in a pensieve?”
“Hermione,” Jennifer interjected breathlessly, her eyes gleaming with a sudden idea, “I’ve got a video camera. If you can make it work with magic maybe they can show the recordings on the Wiz-Vision...”
“That’s brilliant! I think that’ll work,” Hermione beamed, “That solves an issue that’s really been bothering me.”
“Excellent!” Harry exclaimed with a grin, “I suppose we’re ready to get cracking then...”

~o0o~
“Sir... sir, we’ve landed...”
Richard Granger groggily opened his eyes when he was shaken awake by the British Airways stewardess. Despite his weariness after nearly twenty four hours in the air and a brief stopover in Singapore, he still managed to find some appreciation for the attractive young woman, leading him to wonder if he would ever find someone to share his life with again.
Richard crossly tried to suppress the unwanted introspection and focus on the task at hand as he collected his luggage and made his way through Customs. But it was hard to avoid the stray thoughts now that he was once again on English soil.
Now that he was back in the land of his birth, Richard’s mind couldn’t help but return to thoughts of his biggest regret, the night and following morning that he’d let his temper get the best of him and driven his wife and daughter away.
He had shocked himself with his own behaviour - convinced himself that it was wholly out of character - and yet he still couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t entirely his fault. If only Jean and Hermione had seen reason - seen that all he wanted was what was best for their family.
Everything had gone wrong since the day Hermione had received the wretched letter from that madhouse. Richard should have never let her talk him and Jean into letting her go to Hogwarts to begin with.
Why couldn’t they see it? They were both bright, intelligent women who valued Knowledge and Reason, and yet first his daughter, and then his wife... they had both succumbed to a belief-system that violated every scientific principle. Believing in magic was irrational, the product of an aberrant view of the world.
Certainly, there had been some strange incidents as Hermione had grown, but there had to be scientific, rational explanations for everything, even if they were unapparent at first blush. In retrospect, it would have perhaps been better to have sent Hermione to some sort of research facility which studied people who displayed odd “talents” as he had wanted for her in the first place. No doubt all the other dangerous nutters who exhibited such abilities - running amok in their secret society unchecked by proper authorities - belonged in institutions as well for the safety of all.
But Jean had consistently and obstinately refused, saying that she didn’t want their daughter to be treated like a lab-rat, allowing herself to be governed by a hysterical paranoia that such institutions were merely a front for military or espionage agencies to subject people to inhumane experimentation. No doubt influenced by seeing one too many science fiction thrillers like that ridiculous Stephen King film, Firestarter.
And Hermione had been so delighted at the idea that she might finally find a school where she would be accepted and not bullied by her peers for her inestimable intellect and voracious thirst for knowledge that she had leapt at the chance to go. Paradoxically, Hermione had been all too eager to believe that she was a witch and chuck away everything she had been taught, and Jean had only encouraged her foolish fairy tale fantasies.
Richard had given in despite his reservations, only wishing happiness for his daughter, and had for a while done his level best to pretend that she was off at a boarding school like any other. But that had proved more and more difficult as time went on, what with the letters Hermione had been sending home.
Richard had left it to Jean to read them, only half-listening when she read them out loud, but he couldn’t miss the fact that Harry Potter’s name came up often, in particularly glowing terms. It was clear that Hermione had fallen head-over-heels for the boy, and Richard didn’t like that at all - and he'd liked it even less after he'd learned of Potter’s history.
Indeed, while Richard went out of his way to avoid discussing magic, he tried to make it clear to Hermione that he wasn’t at all comfortable with her friendship with the boy. It was only under the pressure from Hermione for him to meet Harry for himself that Richard had agreed to that ill-fated trip to Diagon Alley. And Richard’s fears had only been confirmed when he’d seen the dirty poorly dressed hooligan who looked like an extra from Oliver Twist.
After the debacle in the bookstore, Richard was done with the wizard world. He would have dragged his daughter off right then and there too if he’d had his wits about him, but he was too furious and had simply stormed off with his wife. Richard had made a point of ignoring Hermione’s entire Second Year until she had come home.
And even then, he had struggled to avoid the subject altogether, hoping they could just get through the summer and take their trip to France until Jean had finally had enough and had tried to sit them both down to discuss things. Jean had asked Hermione point blank to fill in the details that had been missing from Hermione’s increasingly sparse letters in Second Year.
And that’s when he’d completely lost it!
Well what did Hermione and Jean expect? That Richard would be happy that his daughter was running around getting into trouble with Harry Potter and their halfwit ginger friend? That he’d be pleased that Hermione had been in constant danger of being killed by a giant snake and had turned half-cat after drinking some sort of potion?
What if she’d been stuck like that forever? How on earth would Richard have been able to explain that to the plastic surgeons he would have inevitably had to pay for to give Hermione some semblance of a normal life.
No! He had made the right decision at the time that Hermione would have to give up her fantasy of being a witch, and be sent to a proper institution where they would study her and find a way to reverse her dangerous abnormalities.
There was no way Richard would have changed a thing if he had to do it all over again... Except to have exerted better control over his temper - that had been his only mistake, and it had cost him everything. He had driven Hermione away, right into the arms of the boy who was destined to be a murderous terrorist.
Now it was time to fix his mistake, no matter what it cost!
And if Hermione continued to insist on staying underground in hiding and making things difficult, Richard would spare no expense to hire the best detectives and cult deprogrammers to find her if he had to. He would find her and make her see Harry Potter for who he really was - show her how the world saw him, a dangerous villain with no redeeming qualities.
Richard suddenly realised that he was standing on the pavement in the pouring rain with his luggage in front of the London Hilton near Hyde Park where the cabbie had dropped him off. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Richard Granger strode into the hotel to check in.
An hour later, after several cups of coffee and a number of phone calls, Richard readied himself for his appointment with a Scotland Yard Inspector. He looked in the mirror and straightened his tie. Satisfied that he looked respectable enough, Richard Granger marched to the door of his hotel suite.
Richard stared at the door, puzzled when the handle wouldn’t turn. He tried it again - several times, grunting in exertion as he tightened his grip and rattled the door-handle vigorously. Fuming, Richard grabbed the phone to call the front desk, only to discover there was no dial tone. Angrily, he began hammering on the door and bellowing, hoping someone would hear him and release him from his imprisonment...

~o0o~
The rain was coming down in buckets, the wind driving it against the windows of Jennifer’s manor. It was midafternoon and Hermione was sitting at the kitchen table having Tea with Harry and their friends, enjoying the savoury flavour of one of the best pork pies she had ever eaten.
“Dobby, this is absolutely heavenly!” she gushed. “The pastry is perfectly flaky...”
“Thank you Mistress Hermione,” Dobby squeaked, beaming at her praise, his little cheeks turning pink.
Harry grinned; he couldn’t agree more.
“Yeah, these are smashing Dobby... the best. Better than anything from Tesco,” he said, glad now that he had been talked into taking a break from training. He was distracted by the sound of Sirius’s voice emanating from the mirror sitting on the table.
“It’s for you Hermione,” said Harry, hearing her name. Hermione’s demeanor shifted suddenly to one of nervousness as she picked up the mirror.
“Hello Hermione,” said Sirius, smiling at her sympathetically.
“Er... H...Hi Sirius! Is... is he here then - my father?”
“Emmeline tells me that he checked into the Hilton safely shortly after noon,” Sirius replied. “He settled in and apparently made an appointment with someone at Scotland Yard... no doubt to file a missing persons report and to tell them that you had been kidnapped by Harry...”
Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes. Harry sighed and shook his head.
“Not to worry though Hermione,” Sirius continued. “Emmeline made sure that your father wouldn’t be keeping that appointment. He’s in his hotel suite and the door is sealed - it’ll only open for you. And just to be clear, he’s at the Hilton by Hyde Park.”
“Thank you Sirius,” said Hermione gratefully. “Harry and I will get ready then and be there as soon as we can...”
“Er... I will?” said Harry, raising his eyebrows. “Are you sure that’s a good idea Hermione?”
“Yes you will!” Hermione responded firmly, giving Harry a hard stare. “It’s about time you met him properly and we settle this once and for all!”
Harry gulped. He knew better than to challenge Hermione when she had that look in her eye. Sirius couldn’t help chuckling.
“Best of luck you two,” he said with a wink. “You should probably take Dora with you for backup... Anyway, I’d best be going. Dumbledore needs me and Remus to scout out a village in Northumberland.”
It took a short while to get ready as Hermione changed her clothes and gathered up some things. Harry wondered if he should change into something smart to make a better impression than he had the last time he’d seen Mr Granger, but all he had was his tuxedo.
“You look fine Harry,” Hermione assured him. “Jeans and a t-shirt are best for now as you’ll want to alter your appearance until we’re actually in Dad’s hotel room.”
“Oh... er... right,” said Harry.
He morphed into his Harriet form and took a deep breath. Dora performed the disguise spells on Hermione and the three of them stepped out of the manor to apparate to Hyde Park. Hermione marched into the hotel and located her father’s room after asking at the front desk, followed closely by Harriet and Dora.
Hermione knocked on the door of her father’s suite, puzzled when he didn’t answer. Harriet shrugged when Hermione glanced at her. Hermione looked around to make sure nobody was watching and then raised her wand to perform the Alohomora Charm. Dora shook her head.
“You should probably just try the handle,” Dora suggested. “Sirius said it would work for you.”
Hermione nodded. Cautiously, she turned the handle and cracked the door open, peering around anxiously. The last time she had seen her father was the night he’d gone ballistic.
“Daddy,” she said quietly, “Are you in here?
“Er...” said Harriet, spotting what looked like a figure slumped on the sofa on the other side of the room. “I think that’s him over there.”
Dora shut the door behind them and lifted the disguise spells on Hermione. Hermione frowned, glancing at the coffee table by the sofa which appeared to be strewn with a number of little bottles. Stalking across the room, her eyes boggled at the sight of her disheveled, passed out father and she wrinkled her nose at the smell.
“Daddy!” she said sharply. Richard Granger’s eyes suddenly snapped open, seeing a blurry figure with bushy hair looming over him.
“Her...Hermione... ish that really you?” he slurred.
“Yes it’s me!” Hermione snapped. “You’re drunk. Since when do you drink?”
“Hermione?” said Richard disbelievingly as the room span, not having heard a word she had said. He wondered if he was just having a drunken daydream. “Hermione...?” he repeated.
“Dora, is there a spell for this sort of thing?” Hermione asked. “I can’t talk to him like this.”
“Enervate should do it,” Dora replied, her eyebrows raised.
She waved her wand and muttered the incantation. Richard Granger’s head began to clear as the room stopped spinning and came into focus.
“Hermione,” he gasped. “How... what? ...” he eyed the other two girls with his daughter. One of them nervously ran her fingers through her shoulder length black hair. “Are... are these your friends?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “What happened to Potter? Are you still with him?”
Hermione’s nostrils flared as she felt a surge of anger. She glanced at Harriet.
“Well?” she said.
“Er...” Harriet swallowed, taking note of Mr Granger’s expression of suspicion. “If... if you’re sure about this Hermione.”
Richard’s eyes widened in shock when the girl’s features began to change, her figure becoming more angular, her black hair shortening, and a lightning shaped scar appearing on her forehead. For a moment Richard sat there unmoving, then without warning he lunged forward.
Taken by surprise, Harry staggered, reeling when Mr Granger’s fist connected with his jaw.
“Daddy, no!” Hermione shrieked, whipping out her wand. Wand already in hand, Dora beat her to it and Mr Granger was flung back onto the sofa.
“Don’t even think about tryin’ that again,” Dora scowled. “Hermione and Harry are just here to talk and sort things out.”
“If you’re trying to prove that you’ve changed since you hit Mum, you’re doing a piss-poor job of it!” Hermione shouted.
“What? I didn’t ... I mean...” Richard sputtered angrily. “Look, I said I’m sorry about hitting your mother - I didn't mean to - I just lost control of my temper. It’s not the same dammit! Don’t you know who your boyfriend is? He’s a bloody terrorist! ... A violent murderer just like I said he was! For all I know he could snap at any moment and kill you!”
“Don’t be bloody ridiculous!” Hermione fumed. “First, you never even apologised to me or Mum properly! YOU’RE the one who frightened the living daylights out of me! YOU’RE the one who was violent...”
“I only lost it because I love you Hermione,” said her father, looking slightly ashamed. “I really didn’t mean to frighten you or your mother. I... I was just scared for you... scared I was going to lose you. You mean everything to me - don’t you understand?”
“Not really Daddy,” Hermione replied, her features softening a bit. “You’ve hated Harry for as long as I can remember... ever since I first wrote to you and Mum about him, without even once meeting him. I could tell from your bit of the return letters that you didn’t like him... and I really don’t understand why!
“As far as I know you didn’t know anything about Harry’s actual history until the following summer when you found one of my wizarding history books lying around...”
“Look... I... You’re not a father Hermione,” Richard responded, casting around for the right words to explain. “You’d have to be a father to understand how it feels when a boy is obviously putting the moves on his daughter... You were only twelve for chrissakes!”
“And Harry was only eleven, you idiot!” Hermione huffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “Harry barely even knew I was a girl... let alone knew anything about ‘putting the moves’ on one. I loved Harry because he was the first real friend I’d ever had... the first person to not treat me horribly for being a swotter... the first person to actually like me for who I was.”
“But he’s a murderer Hermione! Your boyfriend killed a man... and he’s grown up to be a terrorist!”
Hermione rolled her eyes, wondering how her father could be so stupid.
“Harry was ONLY ONE YEAR OLD when he killed Voldemort!” she snapped. “And he didn’t even really kill him because Voldemort had done something to stop himself from dying... I explained that bit about Voldemort in the letter I wrote to you when Sirius sent you to Australia - for your own safety!
“And if you’d REALLY been paying attention when you read that stupid history book, you would have seen that VOLDEMORT was the murdering terrorist, and that he was killed after MURDERING HARRY’S PARENTS and trying to kill Harry when Harry was ONLY A BABY!!!
“But now I finally understand why you never actually read the book properly... You were so blinded by the IDIOTIC notion that an eleven year old boy was trying to get into my knickers that all you could see was ‘Harry Potter killed Voldemort’ ... Harry didn’t officially become my boyfriend until the end of Third Year, when I was fourteen and he was thirteen... and that was only because I‘put the moves’ on him!”
Hermione hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should tell him the rest, but she was still so angry at her father that she couldn’t resist.
“And by the way, for your information, Harry isn’t my boyfriend anymore... he’s my HUSBAND!” she said with a hint of vindictive satisfaction. The look of shock on her father’s face was priceless. Harry groaned and hid his face in his hands.
“But... but... you’re only sixteen!” Richard moaned. “How? ... Why? Did he get you pregnant?” Mr Granger shot Harry a dirty look.
“No, he didn’t get me pregnant. We use Contraception Charms and Potions...” Hermione sniffed haughtily. Her father cringed at the notion that his little girl was having sex.
His face blazing hotly, Harry briefly considered making a run for it. Dora tried her hardest to stifle a chortle. This was hardly the time for laughter.
“Anyway, marriage at sixteen is perfectly legal,” said Hermione a bit more gently, “and Mum told me that Auntie Gertrude got married to Uncle Alfie when she was fifteen. Harry and I love each other very much, and if you want a relationship with me, you’ll just have to deal with it!”
Richard gaped at his daughter, hardly daring to hope.
“You... you still want a relationship with me? After everything?”
“Of course I do Daddy!” Hermione said sincerely. “Just because I’m angry with you doesn’t mean I don’t love you. You’re my father... I never really stopped loving you - even after you hurt me and Mum. But I mean it, if you want to be in my life, you’ll have to get used to Harry being in it too.”
Richard felt a pang, the only thing still holding him back was all the wizard and witch nonsense. Hermione frowned again, seeing the hesitation.
“Look,” she said, surmising what the problem was, “Harry’s NOT a terrorist! The Prime Minister made it up because he’s in cahoots with the current Minister of Magic, who is just as horrible as Voldemort was, and just as obsessed with killing Harry... not to mention that she wants to kill me too.”
Hermione pulled a pamphlet out her bag and tossed it on the table. Curious despite himself, her father picked it up.
“Mudbloods and the Dangers They Pose to a Peaceful Pureblood Society?” he muttered. “What’s a Mudblood?”
“Me!” said Hermione curtly. “A wizard or witch born to non-magical parents. Pureblood Supremacists are like Nazis, and they hate people like me, just because our parents don’t have magic blood. Harry’s mother was from a non-magic family too, and Harry’s always looked out for me and tried to protect me from them.”
Richard glanced at Harry again, feeling something new, something he couldn’t quite admit to. Swallowing anxiously, Richard looked at his daughter.
“Er... shouldn’t you leave England then? You... you could come to Australia with me... you and Harry both. I’m still not sure about all the magic rubbish... but... but I’m willing to try and not let your beliefs come between us.”
Harry peered at Mr Granger incredulously. Mr Granger had seen magic with his own eyes. How could he think it wasn’t real? Hermione was thinking much the same thing.
“Seriously Daddy? You’ve seen the things wizards can do...”
“That’s not what I mean,” Richard said quickly. “I... I’m not denying that you and others don’t have certain... er... abnormal abilities. I... I just don’t believe it’s magic. This mystical wizard and witch stuff is just fairy tale nonsense. There has to be a rational scientific explanation for it all...”
“Oh Daddy,” Hermione giggled, “of course there’s a scientific explanation for it all. It’s all got to do with quantum physics and the genetic ability to manipulate reality on a quantum level. It doesn’t matter whether you call it magic or not. It’s just called that for want of a better word for it.
“And in any case, I’m not entirely certain that I’m the first one in our family tree to have magical abilities.” Hermione reached into her bag again and handed her father the book Harry had given her for Christmas in Third Year. Richard Granger’s jaw dropped.
“Hector Dagworth-Granger?” he gasped. “You mean...?”
“Yes Daddy,” she sighed, “it’s quite possible that there was a branch of our family long ago which had some magical abilities, which means that you may have some recessive magical genes yourself, and passed them on to me. Though mine are dominant genes of course. I had to get those genes from somewhere...”
Richard Granger’s head spun again, this time not from over-indulging in alcohol, but from the mind-boggling concept that he himself could have possibly been born with active magical genes under the right set of circumstances. He rubbed his forehead with both hands and groaned. How could he have been so stupid? Of course Hermione had to get her genes from somewhere.
Hermione beamed, seeing that her father’s breakthrough was complete; now all that remained was to explain to him that he was still safer in Australia while she and Harry helped Dumbledore and the Order save Britain. Harry breathed a heavy sigh of relief when it appeared that Mr Granger no longer believed that he was a threat to Hermione.
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Moments in Love