Chapter One – Grandmother Figg

Elsewhere, in Knockturn Alley, Lucius Malfoy was entering a secret back-room in Borgin and Burkes...

A single dirty bulb threw a small circle of light into the otherwise dark room. Lucius scraped a chair back from a dingy table and sat down. A figure hung at the edge of the circle of light. He spoke to the figure. “Karkaroff says you may be able to provide me with valuable assistance.”

The figure remained still and silent. He continued, “Assuming of course that I offer you appropriate compensation.” The figure inclined its head slightly. Lucius became conversational, “Step into the light.” The figure moved forward. It was a woman, in her late thirties, perhaps. She had long reddish brown hair. She was shading her eyes.

“Let me see your face…” he said.

“The light…” she said with a hiss, “is too bright.”

“Your kind don’t like the light, do they?” he said, mostly to himself. He passed her a vial of potion. “Drink this, it will help. You still won’t be able to stand the sun, but you’ll be able to tolerate brightly lit rooms.”

She obeyed. It burned her throat, her eyes stung. She took her hands away from her face and sat opposite Lucius, facing him. He seemed pleased. “The resemblance is remarkable.” He said softly. He withdrew a folder filled with documents from his robes. Inside were photographs of a witch with long reddish brown hair and green eyes. She stood with a wizard – presumably her husband. His hair was jet black and a bit untidy. He wore glasses. In one picture, she held a baby boy.

Lucius studied the pictures closely, and then drew out his wand. “Hold still” he said. He began to mutter, “Face a little less angular…” a jet of green light shot from his wand directly at the face of his companion. He continued “lips a bit fuller…” There was another jet of light. “And we’ll have to do something about that damnable hiss all you creatures make…” He pointed his wand at her throat. More green light issued from it.

Lucius took the woman’s face roughly in his hands. He turned it from side to side. “Yes, I think you’ll do nicely.” He withdrew another folder from within his robes. “Here are you papers, passport, credentials and the like.” She studied them closely. There was a passport from Bulgaria with the name “Lila Ivenova” printed on it. Under profession, she was listed as a journalist. In the folder there were press passes and various other documents indicating that she worked for a Bulgarian newspaper. He began giving her instructions.

“You will completely assume this identity. I want you to go to an all wizarding village in Scotland called Hogsmeade. Take a room at the Three Broomsticks.” She nodded in understanding. “Find this man.” He shoved a picture of Remus Lupin at her. “He teaches at the local school. His name is Lupin.” She memorized the picture. “Tell him you’d like to interview him, that you’re writing a story about the only person ever known to have survived the werewolf’s curse. Then get him alone.” He looked her up and down. “That shouldn’t be too difficult should it?” he said with a vile laugh.

“And you want me to kill him?” she said. The hiss was gone, but there was a trace of Bulgarian accent. “No” Lucius said with an ugly smile, “Don’t kill him. Give him the dark gift. I want him to become a vampire.”

She looked up from her papers. "That will take time. I'll need repeated access to him for that and you know our kind cannot enter a dwelling without invitation."

Lucius leaned closer to her. "If you play your cards right, he'll give you all the access you need, but if he seems unwilling to succumb to your....dubious charms, then there's always my son, Draco. Draco is a student at the school. He'll help you gain entrance to the castle and grounds if you need it.

”And speaking of Draco, this is one of his classmates” Lucius slid a recent picture of Harry over to her. "This is Harry Potter. You have been made in the image of his dear departed mother. At the earliest opportunity, see that he joins her."

She seemed unfazed. “And my payment?” she inquired.

“Half now, half when the job is done.” Lucius replied. He slid a black velvet pouch across the table to her, and then paused, his hands still on the bag. “Were you a witch before you were made a vampire?”

“No,” she nodded, understanding his question, “But as a vampire, I still have considerable powers - certain preternatural gifts…” she rose from her chair and bent one of its metal legs in half, saying “Unbelievable strength and endurance, for example. Also, speed.” There was a blur, and she was gone. In a second she re-appeared standing stock still behind his chair. He was impressed. She continued, “And of course, the weak-minded are easily hypnotized and can be made to do our bidding.” Lucius seemed satisfied. He released the sack of galleons into her abnormally white hands. “And now to business…” she said with a smile that barely revealed fangs.

He saw her to the door, saying, “It’s been a pleasure, Lila”. She liked her new name. She might even keep it once this job was over. She looked at the pictures of Harry and Remus again, then began her journey North.

Chapter 21 – Revelations

Meanwhile, back in Cornwall…

Hermione straightened up her room for the tenth time.  She looked at her watch and took a deep breath.  In five minutes time, she and Arabella would take the Bentley to the train station in the village and collect her parents.  Two of Hermione’s worlds were about to collide.  In all the years since they had learned Hermione was a witch, her parents had never had the opportunity to spend and length of time with her in the wizarding world.  Sure, they’d taken her to Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron a few times, but that was just to get school supplies.  Now, they were about to spend a weekend in an entirely magical household.  Hermione wondered how they would adjust.  On her brief holidays from Hogwarts, Hermione had always been the picture of a devoted muggle child.  Now her parents were about to learn first-hand what it meant to have not just a witch for a daughter, but a sorceress.  “And,” she thought to herself, “then, there’s Harry.”

Harry hadn’t simply filled her heart – he had become it.  She had to find just the right time and place to tell her parents that he was “the one.”   Handled correctly, the news would fill her parents with joy.  They had always liked Harry, and had met him on one or two occasions, but had only known him as one of Hermione’s best friends.  Now, he was more.  To make matters more complicated, the last thing her parents knew for sure was that Ron and Hermione were on the brink of a romantic relationship.  Hermione shook her head, frustrated.  Somehow, she was going to have to bring them up to speed in the car on the way back from the station - before they even reached Paravel.  Hermione and Harry had discussed it at length.  He would stay behind at Paravel with Ron and give Hermione some private time with her parents.  “Hopefully, I’ll make the most of it…” she thought, and with an elaborate shrug of her shoulders, left her room.  

Harry and Ron were in the entrance hall, waiting for her.  Hopkins had brought the Bentley around and Arabella was just settling herself behind the wheel.  “Good luck” Harry said with an encouraging smile.  He kissed her quickly.  Arabella blew the horn.  “I’m off,” said Hermione with a nervous smile, then she dashed away to the sleek automobile, sliding in next to Arabella. 

Ron waved as they set off down the drive. Harry stared absently, not taking his eyes of the car.  Ron was just about to say something sarcastic, when he said sharply, “Watch it!” A small owl, almost as small as Pigwidgeon, pelted through the open door.  It zoomed straight for Harry.  With a seeker’s reflexes, he caught the owl and carried it to the hall table.  It was carrying a tiny jeweler’s parcel.  Harry untied the parcel and slipped a few coins into the pouch on the owl’s opposite leg.  It rocketed away and out of site.

“What is it, Harry?” Ron asked.  “Hermione’s bracelet, I think” answered Harry, uncertain.  He opened the box gingerly.  There, coiled in blue velvet lining, was a delicate pearl bracelet.  Even Ron, whose appreciation for jewelry was limited said, “Whoa!”  Harry was thrilled with the jeweler’s handiwork.  He told Ron the whole story about how Hermione had found the pearls and that they had been a gift from Clio.  Ron shook his head, and said with a wry smile.  “One day, I hope I find someone who will inspire me to be just as big a romantic sap as you are, Harry!”   Harry laughed, “There’s always Moaning Myrtle!”  Ron groaned as it someone had hit him.  “Hey,” said Harry, let’s grab a couple of broomsticks.  We’ll have at least an hour of good flying time before they get back.”  They raced up the stairs towards Harry’s room.

At the station, Hermione spotted her parents easily.  She ran to them catching her mother in a tight squeeze.  “I’m so glad you’re here!” Hermione breathed as her father gave her a crushing bear hug.  Dr. and Dr. Granger, (for they were both dentists) were in their mid-fifties and in terrific health.  Hermione’s mother was stylish and attractive; her father handsome with a face that was pleasant and open.  Hermione took up one of her mother’s bags and led them to where Arabella waited.  “Here I am!” Arabella called from the open door of the car.  Dr. Granger looked at her mother for a moment with huge shining eyes.  “Thank you, for this…it was very thoughtful.”  “My daughter,” said Arabella carefully, “I owe it to you.  I owe you this and much more.”  She became brisk.  “Now, come along, come along.  Everyone’s been looking forward to your visit.  One young man in particular has been especially keen to get to know you better.” said Arabella with a knowing wink at Hermione.  “Bless you, Arabella” thought Hermione, “for breaking the ice.” 

Hermione’s mother caught on quickly.  “So, mother,” Dr. Granger said to Arabella, “Hermione tells us you have quite a houseful.  Who can we expect to meet?”   Arabella looked in the rear-view mirror briefly, her eyes returning to the road.  “You know Harry Potter and Ron Weasley I expect?” The Grangers nodded.  Arabella went on, “They’re here and there’s a cousin who you’ve never met named Remus Lupin.  He teaches at Hogwarts.  Then there’s Sirius Black who is a particular friend of mine and, as it happens, is also Harry’s godfather.”  Arabella paused, then continued, “And of course, Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster at Hogwarts.”  Hermione cried, “Dumbledore’s coming this weekend?”  Arabella smiled, “Yes, dear.  Didn’t I mention it?”  Hermione knew perfectly well she hadn’t.

“And which of these young men is threatening to steal my daughter away?” asked Hermione’s father in mock seriousness.  “I’ll bet half my practice it’s Ron Weasley”, said Hermione’s mother smugly.  Now was Hermione’s chance.  She took a deep breath, “No,” she said calmly to he mother, “It’s not Ron, its Harry, Harry Potter.”  Hermione’s mother was obviously surprised, “But I thought when you went to visit the Burrow earlier this summer…” she began, but Hermione cut her off.  “When I went to visit Ron at the Burrow, I realized – we both realized that what we thought might be romance was just a series of unrealistic expectations.  He’s over it.  I’m over it.  We’re very good friends.” 

“I see.” said Hermione’s mother, vaguely.  It was hard for her to think of Hermione as old enough to be involved in any sort of romantic relationship, much less old enough to discuss one in this cool detached manner.  “Okay,” she said, “so what’s going on with Harry?  He’s been your best friend since you were eleven.  Are you trying to tell me that now you think you’re in love with him?” 

Hermione took a deep breath and tried not to sound frustrated.  She supposed from their point of view, it did look a little flighty - to start the summer with the idea that you might date one of your two best friends, but to end up dating (and planning to spend the rest of your life with) the other one instead.  She began calmly and respectfully, “In the first place, I’ve never thought for a minute that I was in love with anyone before – not Viktor Krum and not Ron.  In the second place,” she said, blushing deeply, but continuing, “I don’t just ‘think’ I’m in love with Harry.  I AM in love with Harry.”  Her mother sent her a searching look, but didn’t speak.  “It didn’t happen overnight and it isn’t a silly Muggle crush that’s here today, gone tomorrow.” 

Her father patted her hand gently and said in a slightly patronizing tone, “You can’t know that, honey. After all, you’re both very young.  But so what? So what if it is a crush?  Enjoy it!  I’m happy to think of your dating someone as nice as Harry, but don’t fool yourself, baby.  Don’t try to make it into something more than it is – more than it should be for someone so young.  In a few years, you’ll see that I was right.  You’re going to date lots of nice young men before you graduate (and after), and your mother and I will be happy to meet them all.”  Hermione’s eyes threatened to spill with tears.

 “I hear what you’re saying Dad, and I guess that’s the way I always thought…” she was having trouble finding the right words “but something has happened this summer, something rare and special.  He is the one.”

Hermione's father looked at her for a long second.  Creases appeared at the corners of his eyes.  His brow furrowed slightly.  He was suddenly uncomfortable with whatever a teenage girl might call "rare and special".  In his opinion, it was all too common.  He took a deep breath, as if preparing to receive a shock.  "What aren't you telling me?" he asked her, looking directly into her eyes.   Hermione fumbled with the neck of her shirt for a moment, and then drew out the Cadeau Du Mer.  It hung, glimmering against her white shirt.  “I’m trying to tell you that Harry and I share a unique connection, a bond…”  At the mention of his name, the amulet glowed.  “What kind of connection? And what is that you’re wearing?” asked Hermione’s mother. 

“That,” said Arabella from the front seat, “is the Cadeau Du Mer.”  Hermione’s father looked at her quizzically, “Gifts of the Sea?”  “That’s right,” said Arabella.

 “I don’t understand. What does that amulet have to do with Harry and Hermione?” he asked.  Arabella sighed.  She hadn’t really planned to have this discussion in the car, but it was inevitable, so, better get it over with…

“Over the past year, it became apparent to me and to many in the wizarding community that a particularly menacing dark wizard was regaining strength and power.  He seemed determined to carry out an ancient vendetta against Harry’s family and to settle a score with me.   It seemed very likely that Harry and Hermione might be the targets of an attack by this wizard, so Harry’s godfather and I sought to protect them from and equip them against such an event in every way we could conceive.”  Arabella paused to let this sink in, “I had in my possession the two powerful magical objects that compose the Cadeau Du Mer.  After careful consideration, I elected to bestow the Cadeau Du Mer on Harry and Hermione for their own protection.  I knew that the Cadeau Du Mer would give them abilities that might save their lives if they were attacked by the dark wizard or his followers.” She took a deep breath, “But in order for them to tap into the powers of the Cadeau Du Mer, they had to agree to bind themselves to one another.”  “How do you mean, ‘bind’?” asked Hermione’s father.

“They are linked by the Cadeau Du Mer.  It enables them to apparate and disapparate to each other, to find the other one in times of crisis or to summon one to the other.”  Hermione’s father didn’t quite catch on.  Arabella ignored the confused look, and continued, “In their case, it produced a singular effect; it allowed them to hear each other’s thoughts.  They can communicate telepathically.”  A small gasp escaped Hermione’s mother.  Arabella plunged ahead, “She looks through a window into his soul; similarly, he can see into hers.  They have learned more about each other’s true nature and character over the last few weeks than many Muggle, or even wizard couples for that matter, learn in a lifetime.”  Arabella smiled reassuringly at Hermione.  “But even before they had received the Cadeau Du Mer, they had already discovered their true feelings for each other.  The Cadeau Du Mer simply confirmed what Harry, and more recently Hermione, had suspected all along – that they had been formed for each other long ago.”  Arabella’s tone became a bit dreamy, not unlike Dumbledore’s. “Harry and Hermione are not merely a wizard and a witch.  They are among the gifted that appear in our world only a few times each century.  They are a Sorcerer and a Sorceress – the most powerful of our kind.  That both were born in the same generation is no accident.  They have a destiny to fulfill.  What it is I cannot say.  What I am certain of, however, is that they will fulfill it together.”  There was silence from the back seat.

“It’s a lot to absorb, I know” said Hermione gently. 

“What about this dark wizard? What if he does attack you?”  Hermione’s father asked, agitated. 

“It’s all right, Dad.  It’s over.  We were attacked, but….” Hermione was unsure how to explain everything that had happened. 

Arabella, however, was not unsure in the least, “Harry saved her.  Harry used the power of the Cadeau Du Mer and his abilities as a Sorcerer to overcome the dark wizard nearly losing his own life in the process.  Then Hermione used her own gifts and her unique connection to Harry to redeem him, to bring him back to us.”  Arabella sighed, “But that’s a story for later.  All you need to know now is that they are both safe and that the threat to their safety no longer exists.  They are ready to go back to Hogwarts and do all the normal things young men and women of their age do – study for O.W.L’s, carry out their duties as prefects, and generally give Dumbledore a hard time.”  She smiled.  “I think,” Arabella said with a meaningful look at Hermione, “that Hermione just wanted to prepare you for the fact that while outwardly, she may appear to be a normal witch about to go back to school, that really, she is a very changed girl from the one that came to me at the beginning of the summer.” 

Hermione sighed in relief and gratitude.  Her mother squeezed her hand tightly, “Then I can’t wait to get to know this new girl – this sorceress who is my daughter.  I’m just sorry we only have the weekend…”  Hermione’s father gave her a weak smile and thought to himself, “And I’d better spend the weekend finding out just what sort of ‘destiny’ Harry has planned for my daughter…”  

         Back at Paravel, Harry, Ron, Remus and Sirius were playing a modified form of Quidditch.  There were no bludgers and no snitch - just a quaffle and goals at each end of the lawn.   Harry and Ron streaked back and forth, passing the quaffle between them trying to score against Remus and Sirius.  They were finding it difficult.  Remus managed to steal the quaffle just as Harry was passing it to Ron.  Remus threw it neatly to Sirius who was about to score, when Ron appeared out of nowhere, successfully defending the goal.  They paused for a moment in mid-air, breathing hard.

“Ron, you’re going to make an excellent keeper,” said Remus, breathing hard. 

“And you,” said Harry to Remus, “are going to make an excellent coach.”  Remus shook his head.  “C’mon,” Harry grinned, “How can you turn your back on the Gryffindors?  We’ll need your help to put our new team together and train our reserve squad.”  “I’ll think about it.” Remus smiled.  Ron threw the quaffle high into the air and four blurs zoomed after it.

They were so intent on their game that they failed to notice Arabella’s Bentley rounding the bend in the driveway.  It rolled to a stop at the edge of the terrace.  Hopkins appeared bowing to the Grangers and seeing to their luggage.  Arabella was a bit surprised to be greeted only by Hopkins.  She had expected Sirius, at the very least, to form a welcoming committee.  “Where can they be?” she said under her breath to Hermione. 

Hermione smiled and pointed overhead.  “There!” she called.  Everyone looked up.  The Granger’s were wide-eyed in amazement.  They had heard about quidditch and flying brooms, but this was the first time they’d ever seen it.  Hermione focused her thoughts on Harry.  “Come down!  We’re back!”  Suddenly, one of the blurs came into focus.  It was Harry.  He waved and glided down to the terrace, dismounting gracefully and striding to where the little party stood, still grouped around the Bentley. 

Harry’s hair was tousled and he was a bit sweaty.  But his eyes sparkled and his cheeks were flushed beneath his tan.  “It’s wonderful to see you.” he said to Hermione’s mother, giving her a hug, then turning to Hermione’s father he extended a hand and said, “How was your trip?”  Hermione’s father gripped his hand hard.  Harry looked him directly in the eyes and was equally firm.  Harry knew that Hermione must have managed to convey how things stood.  Clearly, Dr. Granger was sizing him up.  Harry smiled warmly.  “You’re going to love it here, I’m certain of it.”  Dr. Granger released his grip, impressed.

There were several “thuds” around them as Sirius, Remus, and Ron landed nearby.  “Hello, Ron” Hermione’s mother called.  Ron grinned and gave her a hug.  Remus came forward next.  He extended a hand to Hermione’s mother, “I’m your cousin, Remus, Remus Lupin and you must be Catherine…” he said.  She smiled warmly, “I am, and this is my husband, Gordon Granger.”

“A pleasure, sir,” said Remus, extending a hand.  “It’s wonderful to finally meet you both.”

Sirius stepped forward and addressed Hermione’s father, “I’m Sirius Black, Harry’s godfather and a friend of Arabella’s.” 

“Gordon Granger, nice to meet you” he responded.  “And this is Catherine.”  Sirius took her hand and bowing over it, kissed it.  “It’s such a pleasure to meet you both.  Your daughter is a remarkable young lady.  Did you know that she’s made a habit out of saving my life?”  Sirius took Catherine by the arm and led her into the house, regaling her with some tale of Harry, Ron and Hermione’s exploits together.  Arabella, Gordon, Remus and Ron followed close behind. 

Harry laid a hand on Hermione’s arm to detain her.  “Well? How did it go?” he asked.  She sighed and buried her face in his chest.  “We got off to a rocky start, but Arabella smoothed things over in the end.”  He stroked her hair, and then tilted her face up to his.  “Okay, now that I know how your parents are, tell me how you are.” 

“Happy to be with you,” she breathed.  He kissed her forehead.  “All better now?” he asked.  She traced his lips with her fingers, and then kissed him.  “All better.” she whispered.  He smiled down at her, then looping her arm through his, led her to the house. 

Sirius kept them entertained during lunch recounting is great detail how Harry and Hermione had used Buckbeak to free him from Flitwick’s office at Hogwarts. Catherine Granger was intrigued by the whole notion of hippogryffs. “What I wouldn’t give to actually see one!” she said over dessert and coffee.

“You can, mother, Buckbeak is here at Paravel.” Hermione said.

“I’ll be happy to take you and Gordon down to the stables after lunch,” Sirius offered. “Who knows, if Buckbeak’s in the right frame of mind, we might even manage a ride or two.” Gordon Granger looked less than thrilled. Catherine on the other hand, was delighted.

After lunch, they assembled on the terrace. Gordon elected to remain on the terrace with Harry, Hermione and Ron while Sirius and Catherine went to visit Buckbeak. Arabella and Remus had vanished into the house on the plea of making some mysterious “special arrangements” for the evening.

“So these are racing brooms?” asked Dr. Granger, pointing to where Harry’s Firebolt and Arabella’s Nimbus 2000 stood, propped in one corner of the terrace. “Could I see one?” Harry retrieved them both and handed the Nimbus 2000 to Dr. Granger.

“This is the broom that Hermione typically uses…” he began, but was interrupted by an “Oh!” from Hermione. She pointed to a spot above the park, near the stables. Buckbeak had taken to the air with two figures on his back.

They flew ever nearer. Gordon Granger was wordless as his wife soared overhead on a mythical creature in the company of an extremely attractive and powerful wizard. Harry and Hermione exchanged glances. Ron shrugged. A flock of seagulls skimmed over the lawn from the cove. One of them made a playful dive at Buckbeak’s head. He shied in annoyance. It happened in a split second. Catherine lost her balance. Hermione saw her clutch wildly for a moment, then fall.

Hermione’s wand was out in a flash. A jet of gold sparks shot from the end. Simultaneously, Harry mounted the Firebolt and rocketed toward the helpless figure as she screamed and clawed frantically at the air. Harry watched as the jet of gold light reached her. She slowed momentarily. It gave Harry just enough time to pluck her from mid-air, pulling her onto the Firebolt with both hands. She clung to him tightly, struggling to catch her breath.

“It’s all right Dr. Granger. I’ve got you, you’re safe now.” He said, soothingly. She managed to look up at him.

“I think maybe you’d better call me Catherine now,” she said hoarsely. He flashed a charming smile at her. She was unable to resist smiling back at him. “Thanks, Harry” she said.

“You’re welcome, Catherine” he beamed, feeling that with at least one of Hermione’s parents, he was making some progress.

They touched down smoothly on the lawn by the terrace. Hermione came running to meet them, Gordon Granger close on her heels.

“Mom, are you okay?” she gasped. Catherine was amazingly composed.

“Fine, darling, just fine…it was my own fault…” She didn’t have a chance to finish. Gordon had pulled her into his arms,

“Catherine! Are you hurt?” he demanded.

“Not a scratch,” she said, reassuring him, “Thanks to Harry here.”

“And Hermione,” Harry said quickly, “she slowed your fall to give me time to reach you,” he explained. Gordon stared first at his daughter, then at Harry.

“I hardly know what to say” he said, “thank you, both.” Hermione hugged her father tightly.

“Your welcome, Dad” she said.

Sirius and Buckbeak landed nearby. Harry could hear Sirius muttering under his breath as he approached. Harry managed to pick out the words “stupid brute” and “could’ve broken her neck…” Sirius’s face was ashen and tense as he reached Catherine.

“What a fright you must have had! I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault. Are you quite all right?” She waved a hand to stop him.

“Not your fault, Sirius. It was entirely mine. You told me to hold on tightly and I wasn’t holding on at all. I had just released my grip to wave when Buckbeak shied. Thank goodness these children have better sense than I do.” She smiled. Hermione frowned “Children?” she thought to Harry. Gordon Granger frowned as well. He wasn’t ready to absolve Sirius so quickly. He was still pondering this point when to his utter surprise a voice that sounded distinctly like his wife’s said, “If I promise to hold on this time will you take me back up? You do have to take Buckbeak back to the stables, after all, and I can hardly imagine that you’re going to lead him the whole way…” Sirius threw back his head and laughed,

“Well, now I know that Hermione comes by her courage honestly!” He gestured to Buckbeak, “Right this way, my lady!” They were off in a twinkling. Hermione looked at her father. He had gone speechless again.

“Come on up to the house, Dad. Maybe we’ll get Hopkins to fix you a nice big martini…” Hermione said, leading her father from the lawn and back to the house with Harry in tow…

The martini seemed to restore Gordon Granger. He was puffing contentedly on his pipe, looking over the map of Paravel Ron had made when Catherine returned with Sirius. Catherine was looking flushed and happy, thrilled with her adventure on Buckbeak. Sirius was silent, but smug. Remus shot him a quizzical look, but said nothing – at least for now.

***

The afternoon passed quickly into evening. One by one, Paravel’s houseguests drifted up to their rooms to dress for dinner. Hermione had showered and dried her hair. She stood in front of her long mirror contemplating her wardrobe. Her mother’s words still echoed in her ears…

Meanwhile, across the hall, Harry was sliding into one of his new shirts and a sharp dinner jacket. He dithered for a while about whether or not to wear a tie, but decided against it. Harry was interested in making a good impression on Hermione’s parents, but a tie might be overkill. Turning to his bureau, Harry drew out the small jeweler’s box that had arrived earlier that day. Opening the lid, he looked once more at the pearl bracelet. He really should wait to give it to her until her birthday, or at the very least until they were about to leave Paravel, he told himself firmly, but he found himself unable to return the box to its drawer. Instead he slipped it into one of the inside pockets of his jacket, “just in case” he thought with a hopeless grin.

Hermione and Harry emerged from their rooms almost simultaneously. His heart skipped a beat. He gave her a steamy look up and down.

“Well?” she said, a bit self-conscious, turning on the spot so he could appreciate the full effect of the dress.

“It’s not exactly a girl scout uniform is it?” he breathed. “What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack or your father?” She laughed and looked at him with smoky eyes.

“This, my dear” she said, fanning her skirts slightly, “is entirely for your benefit (and Mother’s)” she thought silently to herself. Harry moaned and rolled his eyes. He stepped closer to her and looking into her eyes whispered,

“How am I supposed to keep my hands off you if you’re going to go around looking like this?” She put her arms around his neck and nipped one of his earlobes playfully,

“I could always change….” She made as if to step back into her room. He caught her around the waist,

“No you don’t…I love it. Don’t change a thing.” He said in a low voice. And taking her arm in his, he led her toward the stairs. At the top of the stairs, he turned to look at her in the evening light. She was simply stunning. He took both of her hands in his and looked down in simple adoration.

The Grangers were just stepping into the hall when Catherine noticed Harry and Hermione at the top of the stair case. She caught Gordon’s sleeve and pressed her finger to her lips, then pointed. He looked up with interest and watched as his daughter reached up with practiced ease and re-folded the handkerchief in Harry’s breast pocket. Harry smiled his thanks and escorted Hermione downstairs. When they had been gone for a moment or two, Catherine wondered out loud, “Just like an old married couple…I would never have believed it.” Gordon merely “humphed”, and headed for the stairs.

Eventually they were all assembled in the sitting room. Dumbledore had arrived and was delighted to make the Granger’s acquaintance. Dumbledore was giving them his complete and undivided attention. It was apparent, even to Gordon and Catherine, who lived entirely outside the wizarding world, that Dumbledore was a person of stature and they were suitably impressed at the chance to meet him. The gong sounded for dinner. Gordon Granger gave Harry a proprietary look and offered his arm to Hermione. Harry smiled and moved automatically toward Catherine, but he was too slow. Sirius had appeared at her side and with a slight bow, extended an arm. She took it. His eyes danced and he whispered something amusing in her ear. She laughed out loud and shook her head. “What is he playing at?” Harry thought.

Dumbledore was seated at the head of the table with Catherine on his right. Arabella was ensconced at the other end with Gordon on her right. Sirius was next to Catherine, while Remus sat directly opposite her. Ron was next to Remus, followed by Harry. Hermione was directly opposite Harry. Dumbledore called for attention. He rose from his seat, saying,

“I would like to propose a toast to our honored guests, Gordon and Catherine Granger. May you no longer be stranger’s among us, but family, always.” Glasses were raised in salute around the table.

Hopkins and staff oiled in on silent feet carrying laden trays. The meal was delicious, but Harry hardly tasted it. He was gazing intently at Hermione. It was charming to watch her blush and lower her eyes when Remus or Sirius directed a complement her way. They were trying to explain to the Grangers about how Hermione had managed to brew the wolfsbane potion and then beyond that, had used her powers as a sorceress to free Remus from the curse of the werewolf. Gordon Granger’s face alternated between thunderstruck and intense pride.

“And tomorrow,” Dumbledore was saying to Catherine, “we must introduce you to Talons and Firebird” his eyes were twinkling, “I myself, only know Talons by reputation, and am looking forward to meeting her firsthand.” Catherine looked slightly puzzled, realizing that this must be an inside joke. “What do you say, Harry? Do you feel up to it?” Dumbledore asked. Harry failed to answer. Hermione kicked him under the table,

“What?” he said, trying to catch the thread of conversation. Dumbledore gave him and indulgent smile,

“I said,” he repeated, “won’t it be nice for Catherine and Gordon to meet Talons and Firebird tomorrow…”

“Oh, yes,” Harry said quickly, “I think you’ll be really impressed.”

It was an unusual meal and Arabella was glad when it was over. Sirius had been extremely attentive to Catherine. And Gordon had been torn between glaring at Harry, or alternately glaring at Sirius. Remus had tried desperately to distract Sirius, but to no avail. Only Dumbledore and Ron had been completely able to enjoy themselves - looking on dinner as some sort of spectator sport.

"I think we'll have our dessert and coffee in the music room" Arabella said, getting to her feet. Gordon held her chair and allowed her to lead him to yet another new part of the house.

The rest of the group followed. Remus tried to have a private word with Sirius, but he had gone temporarily deaf. When they reached the music room, Catherine gave an involuntary gasp. It was once again filled with floating candles, and Arabella had opened the adjoining ball room with its many gilded mirrors. The grand piano had been pushed to the center of the room, and a fire danced merrily on the hearth. Arabella cleared her throat,

“In honor of the occasion, I have persuaded Remus to give us a little concert, but be warned, from time to time, he may require an assistant…” Remus grinned and seated himself at the piano. He began to play and the sound filled the room. Haunting melodies, beautiful waltzes, and lovely old ballads seemed to pour from his fingers. Dumbledore approached Arabella and led her to the center of the polished wood floor. They began to dance. As they reversed smoothly near Harry and Hermione, Arabella intoned,

“Hermione, go and ask your father to dance…” With a smile, Hermione obeyed.

At first her father was a little taken aback. He was no dancer, but a request from his daughter would never be refused. She led him to the floor and they revolved slowly in one spot. Harry moved quickly to Catherine, determined to get there before Sirius did. He was in luck.

“Would you care to dance, Catherine?” Harry asked, offering his hand.

“With pleasure” she replied and moved with him to the center of the floor. As they began a slow circle of the room, Catherine was delighted to discover that Harry was a good dancer. She loved to dance, but Gordon rarely took her anymore. Catherine gave a small sigh.

“What is it?” Harry asked, without thinking. Catherine genuinely like Harry, and nearly told him the truth, but thought better of it. She was unwilling to say anything that might be considered a criticism of Gordon. Instead, she changed the subject.

“I’ve been watching you with Hermione all evening. You’ve paid attention to her every word, her every nuance. You’ve seen to her every comfort and treated her in everyway with courtesy and respect.” Harry smiled,

“She deserves nothing less, Catherine.”

“I quite agree.” she said beaming at Harry. Catherine was about to say more, when Harry felt a tap on the shoulder.

Harry knew without looking who it was. The ever-charming Sirius stood behind him. Harry gave him a warning look, but stepped aside. The music changed abruptly.

“Oh no” Harry breathed, to himself, “not a tango…” Harry had recalled vividly his second night at Paravel watching Arabella and Sirius perform a dramatic tango. Harry looked around for Hermione. She was coming off the floor with her father who had declined the energetic dance, but had not yet spotted Sirius and Catherine. Harry grabbed Hermione by the hand and jerked his head toward the dance floor. Sirius was just getting warmed up.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures…” he thought to Hermione.

“What do you intend to…” she never completed her thought. Harry pulled a long-stemmed rose from one of Arabella’s arrangements and planted it firmly in his teeth. His arms encircled Hermione and he propelled her onto the floor. “What are we doing?” she thought to him.

“Distracting your father and with any luck, upstaging Sirius.” Harry glanced at Arabella who had pulled out her wand. With a wave, she hit Harry and Hermione squarely with the dancing charm.

They began to move as one, Harry’s hands in the small of her back, her hands firmly on his chest. Their eyes were locked dramatically on each others. They circled each other, then Harry spun Hermione out and away from him with a flourish. She stepped provocatively toward him and he caught her easily, in perfect time with the music. Only then did Harry take a moment to glance at around. Sirius and Catherine had stopped dancing and simply looked on. The music was building to a final crescendo. Harry bent Hermione over his arm, her back arched in an appealing curve. He hovered over her. In a move that surprised even her partner, Hermione kissed Harry, successfully transferring the rose to her own teeth. There was thunderous applause from nearly everyone.

“Marvelous!” called Remus who had left the piano and was walking toward Catherine. “And now, I hope to be joined by my fair cousin.” Catherine began to shake her head. “Arabella says that you sing…won’t you please sing something for us?” Clapping began again. Catherine was reluctant, but at last agreed to a song or two. The room fell silent. Remus played a few notes. Catherine took a deep breath and began to sing. It was a lovely old Scottish air and she sang it well. She was persuaded to sing again and again. Hermione was deeply impressed. She had only ever heard her mother singing around the house, never like this. It was a pleasant new side to her mother. Maybe she would be forgiven for her “children” comment after all.

They broke up around midnight, all agreeing that it had been a lovely evening. Harry walked Hermione to her door under the watchful eyes of the Grangers. “Goodnight” he said quietly and kissed her cheek. “Goodnight” she whispered, but thought privately to him. “Come to me soon…” “Very soon” he thought back, and then turned to his room.

Catherine and Gordon began changing into pajamas and going through the usual bedtime rituals of tooth brushing and flossing. Catherine thought back about the evening with a sigh.

“Did you notice, Gordon,” she asked “how Harry could hardly keep his eyes of Hermione all evening?”

“It’s not his eyes I’m worried about…” said Gordon bluntly. Catherine hooted with laughter and dropped onto the bed beside her husband.

“You’d better face facts. She’s not our little baby anymore. And really, where could you find a nicer young man than Harry?” Gordon grudgingly agreed.

“What’s this business with you and Black” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Nothing,” said Catherine dismissively. “It’s only natural to want to be nice to him. He’s Harry’s godfather and he was wrongly imprisoned for years – as in NO WOMEN. He’s just feeling his oats. But I assure you, his attentions are harmless.”

“If you say so…” Gordon replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Next door, Hermione was changing into a new nightgown – very sheer and very light. She pulled her hair down and combed it through, then dabbed a little perfume at her throat. She heard a “pop” and turned to find Harry waiting for her, arms opened wide. He had changed as well and was now wearing some of the new silk pajamas he had gotten at Madam Malkin’s. They felt wonderful against her cheek. He kissed her soundly. “I’ve wanted to do that all day” he breathed. She ran her hands from his neck and down his chest, then stopped suddenly, feeling something bulky in his shirt pocket.

Catherine looked at her watch and wondered if Hermione had gone to sleep yet. There were so many things she wanted to talk to her about. She stood up,

“Gordon,” she began, “I think I’ll go tuck Hermione in for old time’s sake. Maybe get in a little girl talk.” He snored in reply. Catherine slipped quietly to their bathroom which adjoined Hermione’s. She slipped inside without turning on the light in case Hermione had already gone to sleep. As she was about to push open the door to Hermione’s room, she paused. She could hear voices inside. And one of them was distinctly male. Catherine eased the door open a crack to hear better.

“What’s that?” Hermione said slyly and tapped the box in Harry’s pocket. He laughed and scooping her up, carried her to the bed. He propped her against the pillows and sat down, facing her.

Catherine could hear better now, but still couldn’t see anything.

Harry sighed, “When it comes to you, I have no self control at all. I have something I want to share with you. I thought it might wait till your birthday, or at least until our last night at Paravel, but I can’t stand it. I can’t wait any longer…”

Behind the bathroom door, Catherine clapped a hand over her mouth.

He drew the box out of his pocket and placed it in Hermione’s trembling hand. She lifted the lid and gasped,

“Oh Harry!” There, safe in their blue velvet nest were the pearls Clio had given them that magical afternoon at Godric’s Hollow. They were now strung on the finest thinnest gold strand the jeweler at Baubles and Bangles could find. “So perfect…” she murmured. He kissed her lightly.

“I’ll never forget…” he was about to say “that amazing day we shared” when he realized that someone was in the bathroom. His newly corrected eyes picked out Catherine’s form. She was clearly reeling from what she had been overhearing.

“Hermione,” Harry thought silently. “You mother is in the bathroom and I’m pretty sure she’s heard every word we’ve said…” Hermione looked horrorstruck.

“What are we going to do?” Hermione hissed back. Harry thought quickly over their conversation, then thought to Hermione, “Follow my lead.”

He began again, loudly, “I’ll never forget how I felt when I heard you’d been made a prefect. Congratulations. These are for you, Hermione. And now, do you think I could have a glass of water from the bathroom?” That flushed Catherine out. She stepped suddenly into the room. She still looked a bit stunned. Harry thought to Hermione, “Act natural, act delighted to see her. Show her the bracelet.” Hermione nodded.

“Mother!” she said enthusiastically, “I’m so glad you’re here. Harry’s just given me the most lovely bracelet…” Catherine didn’t appear to have heard her clearly.

“Well, I’d best be off then, Hermione. Congratulations, again. Goodnight, Catherine.” Harry said, about to step to the door.

“Stop!” Hermione thought to him desperately. “The door is locked! If you try to turn the knob, she’ll realize I locked us both in here. You’re going to have to apparate out of here as though you do it all the time…” He nodded.

“See you in the morning” he said, blowing Hermione a kiss, then vanishing into thin air.

Catherine came to her senses and dropped onto Hermione’s bed, saying “Are you in the habit of entertaining gentleman callers at all hours of the day and night – wearing that?” Hermione laughed out loud.

“Of course not, Mother. You heard Harry, he just dropped ‘round to give me my bracelet. He hadn’t planned to give it to me tonight, but changed his mind at the last minute.”

“And does he often drop by in the middle of the night bearing jewelry?” Catherine asked. Hermione smiled,

“No - only on nights when he wants to congratulate me for being made a prefect.”

Catherine kissed Hermione’s cheek. Hermione snuggled down into the covers and Catherine smoothed her pillow. “Goodnight, Mother. I’ve had a great day.” Hermione closed her eyes. Catherine stole softly from the room, and back to her own room. She collapsed onto the bed weakly.

Hermione listened for the sound of her Mother’s door closing. Hermione closed her own door to the bathroom, and with a wave of her hand, locked it. She slid back into bed and breathed a sigh of relief. There was a small “pop” just inches from her face. Harry appeared next to her, lying on the bed, his head propped on one elbow. He grinned wickedly,

“I thought she’d never leave…” he said and put out every single light with a casual flick of his hand. “Now, where were we?”