Monday, June 24th, 1994
Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.
Hermione Granger groaned and smacked her alarm clock silencing it. It was six-o-clock in the morning and for the first time since she had begun her early-morning regiment of jogging with Harry and Tonks, she felt it was way too early to get up.
She yawned and sat up in bed, stretching in order to wake up her body and mind that only wished to snuggle back into her bed and fall asleep. It didn't help that she hadn't gotten to sleep until nearly midnight the previous evening. Harry had known she was quite emotional because her father had been so upset about something he had learned about himself. So he suggested that they practice Occlumency.
So, Hermione and Harry had been in her room late into the evening, relaxed on the bed, meditating and clearing their mind. At about eleven-thirty that night, they were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. It was Hermione's mother. They embarrassingly explained they were practicing Occlumency. Emma had believed them, and merely said it was time for bed, as well as saying they had been lucky her father hadn't been the one to find them.
She slowly changed into her exercise outfit, then made her way to Harry's room to see if he was ready. He was sitting in his bed, relaxed on his bed and staring forward at nothing. In her cage, Hedwig was awake and staring at her owner. Hermione thought she looked concerned.
"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione asked, standing in the doorway.
"I'm... conflicted," Harry said.
Hermione walked into the room, mindful to keep the bedroom door open, and sat on the end of the bed.
"Conflicted about what?" she asked.
"Dumbledore's been manipulating me all these years, right?" Harry asked, "That is what you would call it. Manipulation?"
"Definitely," Hermione said, "He's definitely been manipulating you."
"So what were my parents doing?" Harry asked. "They put me in three – maybe four – Betrothal Contracts, which basically orders me to marry these girls without choice. No offense, if you're one of those girls, by the way. In order to make sure that I come to like and maybe love these girls, my parents plan to have us all grow up together so we're familiar with each other. So that I became more accustomed to the idea. It never happened because of obvious reasons, but that was their plan. What do you call that?"
Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully. It was a very good question. Something that made her truly think. She loved this type of problem-solving. The fact that it was coming from Harry was rather surprising.
"Nurturing," Hermione said, after a full minute of thought.
"What?" Harry asked.
"Your parents were nurturing you," Hermione said, "Like all parents do. Technically, it is in the same category as manipulation – a cousin, perhaps – but there are different ways of nurturing, both good and bad. The bad kind is how Sirius' parents nurtured him. Sirius and his brother grew up being nurtured to follow the Dark Arts. Sirius broke away from it. Regulus did not until it was too late. Draco Malfoy was nurtured by his father to be selfish, pompous, racist and hate anyone and anything who he considered lower than him.
"Then there is Augusta Longbottom and Molly Weasley. Augusta's nurturing wasn't manipulation, but in some ways it was worse than the Malfoys and Blacks. She expected her grandson to be a clone of her son. When he didn't, she believed him to be a squib and therefore nurtured him as one. Molly Weasley might have done both, nurturing and manipulating. She may have manipulated her daughter, training her so that one day she would be the future Lady Potter. But she also nurtured her children, both negatively and positively. Then there are your parents. They nurtured you in a positive way. Or... that was their eventual plan."
"Was it really positive?" Harry asked.
"Let's consider your father," Hermione said, "He was a pureblood, born in a family which bore and married purebloods for generations. Born in a society where purebloods – at least those who are considered respectable – are looked upon as highborn. His father was a very political man, likely raised in politics like his own son, your father, would be.
"We know James was Betrothed, but that he had free reign in his choice of romantic partners, because of how much he fancied your mother during most of his years at Hogwarts. He was taken after Lily. He knew he would be marrying another woman, and still he had set his sights on your mother. There was likely more to how he was raised, but those are the two most important when it comes to you – political integrity, and the Betrothal Contracts. In this case, they combined. James likely didn't care much for his father's Alliance until his father passed away. Then he likely took it to heart everything his father had taught him.
"It is the definition of nurture to raise one's children as they had been raised. James wanted his father's Alliance to thrive, so he planned and plotted. As his heir, you were the future of the Alliance. So, of course he was going to raise you to be a part of it. Betrothing you to three pureblood girls, whose Houses were in his Alliance, would ensure that his father's Alliance would live on."
"And you?" Harry asked, "If we really are Betrothed, how was my father nurturing me for with that. You are a Muggleborn."
"It sounds like we were also fast friends from the moment our parents introduced us to each other," Hermione said, grinning, "Best friends right from the start, even as babies and toddlers. Even if we are Betrothed, I think we'll find that your father hoped that the Betrothal wouldn't matter in the long run when it came to the two of us. That we would want each other romantically in the future anyway. Betrothing us to each other was merely so my family would be protected by the House of Potter, nothing to do with us, technically. I think your father would hope that you would fall in love with me before you discovered we were Betrothed. Simply because he fell in love with your mother, who wasn't in a Contract with him. He wanted you to have a choice in at least one of your romantic partners."
"Betrothing me to you doesn't exactly make it a choice," Harry said, "But I can see what you mean. But why would my mother agree to it?"
"She was a Muggleborn growing up in a society where her kind were considered low-class," Hermione said, "She likely never admit it, but she was probably trying to find a way to fit in. Also, she was the Lady Potter. If there was a way to show society that she was more than a blood-type, it would be prudent for her to act like Lady Potter. I'm sure there were other factors. Sirius and Remus might be able to tell you more. I'm just basing it off of what I have felt at times.
"Harry, Dumbledore's manipulations have done obvious harm to you, physically, emotionally and mentally. It has weakened your ability to trust. Harry, I promise you. You were – and are – very much loved. Your parents loved you and cared for you. Yes, they had painted a clear picture on how they wanted to raise you. But that is common with most families. They were not trying to manipulate you, Harry James Potter. You were able to get a really good look at how they acted yesterday. Don't let Albus Dumbledore tarnish the few memories of your parents you have."
Harry nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Hermione. I guess that makes me feel better."
"You are very welcome," Hermione said; she scooted along the bed, over to him, and pecked him on the lips, "Now change into your exercise clothes. I'm sure Tonks is waiting for us."
Harry groaned, and Hermione smiled. She pecked him on the lips again, then stood and walked out of the bedroom.
Emma Granger was sitting at the dining table, sipping on a cup of coffee, when her husband trudged into the kitchen. She recognized his behavior. He was quite hungover.
"You drank more than you told me about last night, Daniel Granger," Emma scolded, "Usually a cup of coffee after a drinking binge prevents hangovers, at least in your case."
"Sorry, love," Dan grunted.
He filled up his usual mug of coffee and walked over to the table and sat down.
"You're lucky Hermione, Harry and Tonks are out jogging at the moment," Emma said, "They don't need to see you like this. Hermione, especially. She was rather upset last night. She didn't fall asleep until nearly midnight because she was worried about you."
She decided not to tell him about what she had walked into last night in their daughter's room. She knew nothing had happened between Harry and Hermione, but Dan wouldn't have liked seeing Harry laying next to Hermione on her bed, no matter how much he liked the boy.
"I'll apologize to her later," Dan said.
"You haven't drank that much since before Hermione was born, Dan," Emma said.
"Are you sure about that?" Dan asked, raising his eyebrows. "Do you honestly think I wouldn't have had a binge after I threw that pocket-knife in that bastard's back?"
Emma frowned. Her husband had a point. "I suppose we'll find out soon."
"I suppose," Dan grunted.
Emma sighed. She needed to change the subject.
"So," Emma said, "As I told you many years ago, you tend to snore a lot when you sleep off a binge. I was woken up at five-o-clock this morning to you snoring, and couldn't get back to sleep because of it."
"Sorry," Dan said.
"Oh, it was a rather interesting morning, so that is alright," Emma said.
She decided to skip over details of the scene she had walked into that morning. Tonks was asleep on the fold-out couch in the sitting room. Emma had apparently discovered what happened when a Metamorphmagus dreamed. Tonks' hair had been turning every color known to man, switching every few seconds. Emma had clearly heard Tonks moan the name 'Harry'. She wasn't sure what she thought about that, so it was best she simply kept it to herself.
"I was cleaning up the basement, throwing away beer bottles and cans, and stuff," Emma said; she rolled her eyes at Dan's apologetic look, "Then I went over to the section of the basement not reserved for you."
"The storage space," Dan said.
"Where I used to have my little art corner," Emma said, nodding. "I was rummaging through boxes and old paintings I'd done, when I found this..."
She picked up a large painting and placed it on the empty section of table. Dan studied the painting, then his eyes widened and he looked at her.
"This -" Dan said, "That's -"
"Remember when you said you would never forget the Rookery?" Emma asked, "When I first gazed at the house I told Hermione it reminded me of something I might have painted it. Turned out I did paint it."
The painting on the table was a pretty accurate representation of the Lovegood's house, also known as the Rookery.
"Remember the tree Luna pointed to as we were leaving?" Emma asked.
"I think she called it a Drooble Plum tree?" Dan asked.
"Dirigible Plum," Emma corrected, and pointed to the same tree in the painting. "Now look at the date. 7 September 1981. I painted this about a month after we first visited the Rookery. Two months, perhaps, before we had our memories modified. Sirius said he thought our house was familiar, even though he thought he'd never been here before. I remembered painting this. Some of our memories survived."
"That's great," Dan said, "What's the point?"
Emma frowned. "Nothing I guess. I suppose I'm just trying to connect the dots. I didn't even think about Hermione's imaginary friend as a little girl until Xenophilius asked if she ever mentioned Harry's name."
"All those years Hermione was doing magic," Dan said, "And we thought something was really wrong with her. When in reality, we learned, then forgot, that she was a witch, all before she turned two years old. Emma, promise me. No matter what changes today, we'll remain the same."
"Oh, darling," Emma said, "Is that what you're worried about? By the end of the day, we'll have memories back of three wonderful people who are no longer with us, and more knowledge about Hermione's world. We might find out we did agree to Betroth our daughter to Harry, but is that truly a bad thing? Do you honestly believe she'll fall out of love with him?"
"No," Dan said, "Which makes me feel great and strange at the same time."
"Aside from that, we'll be the same people," Emma said, "and I will still love you, Daniel Granger. Even more so. Dan, look at me. Even with the full memory of what happened when that man attacked me, I will feel no different toward you. Well, maybe I will – I'll love you even more, if that is possible. Yes, you took a life. But you did it to save me. You're my hero, Daniel Granger. And you have been since before we married."
Daniel smiled. "Couldn't have told me this before I had a binge, could you?"
"Oh, darling, I thought you knew!" Emma said.
"Well," Dan said, "That is what you're here for. To remind me... and kick my arse when I forget."
"Daniel Granger, don't let your daughter catch you talking like that!" Emma scolded.
Dan Granger laughed out loud.
Three hours later, Dan Granger was once again feeling like himself, at least when it came to him being the normally sober and respectful husband and father his family, friends and clients knew him as. He was sitting at the kitchen table, joined by Emma, writing in his personal planner, going over his future clients at the dentistry, when he and Emma would return to work in one week. He had planned on putting this off until closer to the weekend, but he was trying to pass the time waiting for Sirius Black to arrive.
He had just finished up another successful knife-throwing lesson with Hermione and Harry. Both kids were doing excellent, and he was thrilled to see their progress by the time Saturday came when Harry – and likely Hermione – would be leaving for the summer.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang and Dan heard Tonks' loud voice announce that she would get it. Dan and Emma glanced at each other for a second, shared an encouraging smile, then made their way into the entrance hall. Hermione, Harry and Tonks were currently greeting Sirius, as well as another man and woman when they arrived.
"Good morning, Sirius," Dan said.
"Morning Dan, Emma," Sirius said, "This is my good friend Remus Lupin and my – well – I'm not sure what we are at the moment, so how I introduce her as the lovely Amelia Bones. Remus, Amy, these are Hermione's parents, Dan and Emma."
"Remus is the Defense Professor I wrote to you about this past school year," Hermione said, "The best we've ever had. And Amelia is the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"It is a pleasure to meet the both of you," Dan said, as he and Emma shook the new arrival's hands. "Shall we move into the sitting room, and we can continue?"
It was mutually agreed and everyone made their way into the sitting room. There were not enough seats for everyone, and Harry, Hermione and Tonks ended up sitting together on the floor while the older adults sat in the various chairs and sofas.
"Sirius told me all about what happened last night," Amelia said, "It sounds as if you had quite the evening at the Lovegood house last night."
"You could say that," Dan said.
"So," Amelia said, "it truly sounds as if there has been some crimes of illegal memory removal done against the two of you, Dan, Emma, as well as Sirius. Sirius thought that I, too, may be a victim, but I would have known. I take memory retrieval cures every six months as part of my job, just in case. So I assure you, I have never met either of you face-to-face until today. I may have heard about James and Lily having some Muggle friends, but they had many friends, so I wouldn't have known the difference.
"Sirius also informed me about the assault on you in 1981. So I went to the Ministry's Hall of Records, and searched through the cases in April of 1981. I did find a closed case of an attack on a Muggle residence. Sirius and James Potter were the Aurors listed investigating the case. The culprit had been found two days after the initial attack in central London, with a knife deep in his back."
"Did the Aurors or your department recover the pocket-knife?" Dan asked, "It was a favorite of mine."
"My apologies," Amelia said, "It was reported destroyed soon after the case was closed. We don't keep evidence on hand in closed cases. It wasn't claimed by anyone, so it would have been destroyed."
"That's alright," Dan said, "I'm just glad I finally know what happened to it. What was the culprit's name? How old was he?"
"His name was Sullivan Samuels, aged nineteen," Amelia said, "You don't have to worry about any family trying to get revenge. His father was killed in the war months after the son's death, and mother died of Dragonpox when Sullivan was a small child. He had no siblings, and no other reported family."
"Thanks," Dan said.
"All right," Amelia said, "I met with a good friend of mine who is a Healer today. They are somebody I can trust. They are the personal Healer for my niece whenever she goes in for yearly check-ups and other appointments, so I can say I trust them with my niece's life. They were able to procure three vials of memory retrieval cure for me. It is the same thing I take every six months. It is guaranteed to reverse all memory modifications giving you your original memories. The process requires you to lay down in a comfortable position. Once you drink it, the potion forces you to remember every single thing you have forgotten due to memory modifications enchantments. You will see flashes of visions pass through your mind. There have been reports that one can experience reliving an entire single memory over again instead of flashes."
"That sounds frightening," Hermione said.
"It can be," Amelia said, nodding, "Depending on how many memories you'll regain, the process could take anywhere between a minute up to an hour in most extreme cases."
"Is it dangerous?" Emma asked, concerned.
"To anyone watching you, it will look as if you're seizing up," Amelia said, frowning, "But as long as you are laying down comfortably, you'll be just fine. We'll be here if you're in danger of falling from where ever you are laying. I do suggest only one of you does it at a time, so we only have to focus on one of you. Any questions?"
"I think you summed it up pretty well," Dan said, and Emma nodded in agreement. "I'll be the first to volunteer."
"Are you sure, Dan?" Sirius asked, "I'd be happy to do it first."
"I just want to get this over with," Dan said.
"Alright," Amelia said, "Lay down on the couch in a comfortable position."
Emma pecked Dan on the cheek, then stood up. Dan proceeded to lay down on the couch and rest his head on a throw pillow. Amelia removed a vial from her robes and popped the cork from the top with her wand, then handed the vial to Dan. He studied the concoction's color. It looked like something resembling the color of iced tea. He sniffed it and turned up his nose.
"Does all potions smell horrible?" he commented.
"Unfortunately," Harry muttered, "and they taste just as bad."
"Wizards are insane," Dan muttered, "Medicine is supposed to make you feel better, not puke it back up."
Several in the room chuckled.
"Down the gullet," Dan said.
He chugged the concoction down all at once, as if it was a shot of his favorite whiskey. He gagged at the taste and handed the vial to Amelia, then relaxed and closed his eyes...
Dan Granger pulled into the driveway of his Crawley home as, over the radio, Paul McCartney finished singing about Yesterday's distant troubles. The deejay came over the radio announcing confirmed locations for community Easter Egg hunts in and around the London area for the following weekend. Dan smiled, fantasizing about coming years when Hermione would be old enough to take part in the egg hunts. He turned off the ignition, and stepped out of the car.
He started his way up the driveway, thinking about a young girl he had met that afternoon who was informing him about a lost tooth she had given to the tooth fairy. The girl, too, reminded him of Hermione. Everything reminded him of his baby girl these days. She was the light of his life, as was his wife.
Suddenly, a piercing scream coming from his wife made his heart jump and he raced toward the front door of his house. He noticed only then it was slightly ajar. He was about to call out for his wife when he heard a rough voice of a stranger.
"Crucio!" the voice snarled, "Don't flee from me, you filthy beast! Have the decency to die, bitch! Reducto!"
Dan's eyes widened as he heard the glass of a window breaking. He hurried toward the sitting room and found a man, his back turned to Dan. The man was holding what appeared to be a wooden stick. Out of the corner of his eye, Dan saw his wife's foot sticking out from behind the couch. Dan narrowed his eyes, grabbed his pocket-knife from the back pocket of his jeans, opened it with the flick of his wrist, aimed and let the knife fly with speed. The knife soared through the air and buried itself straight into the back of the man. The man roared in pain and... vanished into thin air!
Dan blinked. "What the bloody hell?"
"D-Dan?" Emma's voice shook, "Is that you?"
Dan regained his senses and ran across the wrecked sitting room. Emma was laying behind the sofa, shaking and shivering as if in the middle of a seizure.
"You're alright, Emma," Dan said, "He's gone. I took care of it."
"Hermione," Emma said, "Hermione."
Dan's stomach jumped into his throat. "I'll be right back. I'll make sure she's okay."
He left his wife laying on the wooden floor of the sitting room and raced into the entrance hall then up the stairs. He bound toward his daughter's nursery. When he arrived, he found his nineteen-month old daughter standing in her crib and visibly crying. Dan's eyes widened at what he saw. Hermione's stuffed animals were floating around the ceiling. Before he could do anything, he heard his wife screaming again. He turned around and hurried back downstairs. When he arrived, he found two men in the sitting room. Both had wooden sticks in their hands... just like his wife's attacker.
"James," one of the men said, "We're not alone."
"You're fucking right you're not alone," Dan growled, "Who are you? Get away from my wife. I warn you, I am SAS trained, and I will kill you."
The messy-haired man with glasses turned and looked at him. He then looked at the other man, this one had curly black hair and a rugged, handsome look.
"Sir, we're... well... we're law enforcement," the man with glasses said, "We were in the area and heard the commotion. Do you know a 'Hermione'? Your... wife? She mentioned that name. She kept saying it."
"Who are you?" Dan repeated.
"I told you, we're law enforcement," the man in glasses said, "Can you tell us what happened."
"I don't know what you are," Dan said, "But you're holding the same kind of – whatever it is – that my wife's attacker was carrying. You could be with him for all I know."
"Did you get a description of the man?" the rugged man asked.
"No," Dan said, "I didn't take the time to look at the man who was attacking my wife. I just threw my pocket-knife, burying it into his back... and … and he vanished into thin air."
Both men glanced at each other.
Dan growled, annoyed. "Look, I don't care if you don't believe me."
"We believe you," the man in glasses said, "Sir, you may not believe me, but the man – he disappeared because of magic."
"Magic?" Dan asked, then thought of his daughter, "Is that what my daughter is doing in her room. Because if not, then I am going insane."
The two men glanced at each other, both looking surprised.
"Sir, I promise you on the life of my wife and son I love with all my heart," the man in glasses said, "We are not going to hurt your family. In fact, my partner can help your wife. Can he do that, while you show me exactly what is going on with your daughter?"
Dan studied the man for a moment, then he finally nodded. "I'll trust you. One wrong move, and I swear I will snap your necks. I may not have my favorite knife anymore, but I can use my hands."
"I believe you," the man in glasses said, "Lead the way. Sirius, check on this man's wife. See if she needs healing, and if you can do anything or if she needs to go to St. Mungo's."
"You got it, mate," the man called … Serious?... said.
Still ever cautious, Dan led the man toward his daughter's room. When they arrived, Hermione was still crying, and the stuffed animals were still floating around the ceiling. Dan walked over to Hermione and picked her up. Hermione sniffled and raised her hands to the ceiling. Her favorite stuffed animal, that of the cartoon deer, Bambi, floated down from the ceiling and into her arms. She grabbed it and hugged it against her. Dan kissed the top of her head then turned to the man.
The man was looking up at the ceiling with a smile, then looked at Dan and Hermione.
"I suppose I should introduce myself," the man said, "Name's Potter. James Potter. Sir, please don't take any offense to this. I am one-hundred percent serious. Your daughter is a witch."
The memory faded, and more memories began to race across his mind. Memories of James Potter. Of James introducing his wife, Lily, and infant son, Harry. Memories of Hermione and Harry meeting for the first time. Memory of Dan and Emma having dinner with James and Lily who explained the wizarding world. A memory of Hermione and Harry nestled up asleep together in Hermione's crib. Memories of the Lovegood residence, the Rookery. Of meeting the Lovegoods. Memory of James and Lily discussing Betrothal Contracts. A memory of Dan and Emma discussing a possible Contract. Memory of Dan and Emma meeting a weird creature he knew was named a Goblin. And finally a memory of an elderly man dressed in purple greeting him at his Dentistry in Crawley... and pointing a wand at him...
Dan gasped out loud and coughed as he opened his eyes.
"Easy, Daniel," Amelia said, "Easy now. You're alright."
Dan sat up and inhaled and exhaled. "I remember. I remember... everything. It is all true, Emma. All of it. James and Lily. Little Harry. Sirius. The Lovegoods."
Dan gulped large breaths.
"Easy, Dan," Amelia said, "Calm down. Let things process. You don't need to talk about it right now. We can wait for your wife and Sirius to get done with their turns."
"Okay," Dan said, nodding, "How long have I been out?"
"Twenty minutes," Emma said, "It was scary at times. You were thrashing there a bit. But sometimes you were smiling and talking to yourself. I... I do believe we heard you use a few swear words."
Dan felt his cheeks grow warm as Hermione, Harry, Tonks and Sirius chuckled.
"I think we can let it slide this time, Daddy," Hermione said, "It looked like it was intense."
"That it was, sweetheart," Dan said.
"Alright," Amelia said, "Who is next?"
Emma cleared her throat and slowly raised her hand.