May 5, 2000
"You are truly sure about this, Hermione?" Kingsley asked.
She said nothing at first. That should have told him very plainly about her mood. She was in no mood for this man to be second guessing her decision-making skills today. As if he truly cared anyway. Over a year later, she was still furious.
His hand shook as it hovered over the piece of parchment, quill ready to sign she noticed. He was obviously hoping she'd say she wasn't sure, so was putting off signing for as long as he could.
She just wanted him to sign so this was done with. She wanted to get on with her life. That was the plan. Fulfill her part of the decree and go on with her life.
She rolled her eyes. How kind of him to ask that now. Did he care about the others who had been put into a much less ideal, or safe, position than Hermione's by his stupid decree? She would be fine. She'd run the numbers and come up with a plan. Others had not had that luxury.
"Do you really care, Minister," she spat.
She knew this wasn't entirely his fault, but he was the face for this mess. (And it was a mess. Hermione could have told all of them it would turn into one, but Cleverest Witch Of Her Age or not, no one wanted to hear a nineteen-year-old muggleborn witch's thoughts. Go figure!) Overall, she liked the man, thought he was good as Minister for Magic, and for the magical world as a whole. And make no mistake about it, it wasn't just wizarding Britain that had to heal and move on.
Right now, though, she was not rational or objective. She was thinking with her heart, and her heart hurt. On top of that, there were probably excess hormones in play, too. She wasn't going to tell this man that, though.
"You have two magical children to look forward to contributing to society, instead of just one. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? A little surplus in the next magical generation, whether people wanted children or not."
"Well, yes, but you're taking them out of Britain and giving up visitation and…"
"So is he." It bothered her that the Minister would view it as only she was giving something up. Two of them created the two children.
"Well, yes," he said. He sounded doubtful, but seemed to recognize saying anything further was not wise.
She knew what the ‘and' was. Since there was no divorce, there was no child support or alimony. There wasn't for him either, though. (Not that either of them would have gone after the other for spousal support.)
He said nothing more.
She could tell he was holding back. Her eyes narrowed. She didn't know this man well, but it wasn't difficult to read the unasked question in his eyes. Their father's past wasn't exactly a secret.
Harry was, perhaps, the only one who wouldn't question her on this. He trusted their father, too.
This man wanted to trust their father, but like a good majority of people. They just weren't entirely sure they could or should. They only had to look to Albus Dumbledore to see why there were such questions surrounding the man to this day.
Two years post-war.
"He will not hurt her," she said, knowing she sounded upset.
She was! On top of having her judgment called into question being insulting. She should never have been put in this position. None of them should have been.
"Fine," he said. The shaking of his hand stopped, and he signed off on the document. His signature was as confident as it always was. No one looking at it would know he didn't want to sign this.
She was back to being Hermione Granger and Mia would be known as Mia Granger. Legally, Mia's dad's name would be like a middle name. She just didn't want to have to answer a million questions wherever she went about the father, divorce, or where he was when they found out she wasn't divorced.
She wanted time to figure out what she was going to do. Carrying his last name would not provide her privacy. Not that her last name was much better for affording her privacy. It didn't come with questions, though, as continuing to use his would have. She was hoping outside of Britain, her name would not be so well known.
She wasn't sure yet if she'd live in the magical world or not, and the magical world did not support divorces. All would assume she was that. They certainly wouldn't support this deal. She assumed Kingsley agreed to this believing that he'd be able to talk them into changing their minds.
He obviously didn't know who he was dealing with.
In both cases.
This was the end they'd gone for, after all. Living separately once the child was born. She'd admittedly been somewhat surprised the father agreed to her idea. Then he wasn't accustomed to living with others, so maybe she shouldn't be entirely surprised.
"Thank you," she said with a curt nod.
She was still seething that she was in this position at all. She shouldn't have been. She'd already said that, and more, so there was no use saying it again today. It wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't undo what she - they - had done.
She spun on her heel as she left his office. She saw a few people she knew in the hallways and the elevator, but her bad mood seemed to be clear, as no one even said hello to her. That made her feel a smidge better, laughing in an almost insane sounding way at what she must look like storming through the halls of the Ministry.
She made it to the floo area without incident and without anyone talking to her. There weren't even the usual polite ‘hellos' that came with seeing a familiar face. She stepped inside with the necessary floo powder, calling out her destination, allowing the floo network to take her away until she was finally back at Grimmauld Place.
Harry regarded her with sympathy in his eyes. That look made her angry right now. She didn't want his sympathy. He felt bad already, she knew, because he was exempt from this barbaric position.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he said simply.
She stepped into his offered hug, not realizing until he wrapped his arms around her that she actually did want this. Comfort. Someone to tell her it would be okay. She didn't want it from this wizard, though. And that made her glad it was this wizard. Her mind was as confused as she currently felt, it seemed. She didn't feel okay, and after fighting a war and defeating Voldemort, shouldn't she feel okay?
She sighed, smiling a bit at the scent that was very distinctly Harry. Her best friend.
"It'll be okay," she said.
"I just don't understand why you have to leave."
She didn't want to leave. Not really. He probably would have agreed to tweak their agreement. He didn't have a Harry he was leaving behind.
It would be too hard to stay, though. She didn't really have anyone here anymore except this wizard. And Minerva, she supposed, but she wasn't enough of a reason to stay.
And, well …
"Oh, Harry. You do, too, know why. It's what we agreed to do. Both of us, so that they have a chance at a normal and somewhat quiet life. If either of us stay here, you know that wouldn't happen."
"I know. It doesn't mean I like it. And Australia, Hermione!"
"I don't either. It's not as if I won't visit, and I'm sure you'll have business in Australia for you to come visit us once in a while."
"I will make sure of it. I love you."
"I love you, too, Harry. Now stop with the end of the world talk. This is not goodbye."
Easy for her to say. If he believed her, she was doing much better than she realized. She wasn't sure she could remember life without Harry anymore. The lonely, pathetic girl who'd come to Hogwarts almost nine years ago and, miraculously, found not just a friend but a sibling in this wizard.
She stepped out of his hug, going to what had become her room since the end of the war. She hadn't spent much time here for more than a year, until the past week. There, she picked Mia up from her bassinet. Hermione choked back a sob. She was so perfect. It amazed her that she - they - had created her.
"This is what's best, isn't it, Mia?"
She didn't answer her, of course. She couldn't. She was only one week old.
She bit back the sob that was still threatening to escape. This was hard. She wasn't even twenty-one years old! Why did she have to make such a tough decision?
She shouldn't have had to!
"Damn you, Kingsley Shacklebolt," she murmured, swiping away the tears she couldn't stop from falling with the sleeve of her robes. Robes he had given her to replace the ones she transfigured during her pregnancy. They had to go to a dinner at the ministry in March and she was already showing she was having twins pretty clearly. She was afraid if she transfigured her dress robes too large she'd never get them back the right way. That was probably the hormones, too. Regardless, he'd gotten her this nice set of robes for after she'd had the babies.
"You shouldn't have to go back to wearing something that you purchased four years ago."
Left unsaid, of course, was that things she had prior to the end of the war likely wouldn't really fit her anymore anyway. She'd lost a lot of weight those months on the run, but also grew and developed as women did.
She put Mia down again so she could finish getting ready.
It wasn't Kingsley's fault. Not entirely. His was just the face (and name) that was easy to put with this situation. And lay the blame at his feet.
As God as her witness, she would find some way to bring the wizarding world into the twenty-first century.
She kissed Mia's forehead and gently settled her back into her bassinet. It was time to get on with this. The papers were signed. She could now go anywhere and do anything and not have her situation follow her.
That had been paramount to her. She wasn't going to leave the United Kingdom if she couldn't truly start from scratch.
She went through her list to ensure everything on it had been put in her bag with an undetectable extension charm on it. No missing check marks, so she had to presume it was all in there. She summoned Mia's file so that she could add her copy of today's document fresh from Kingsley's signing it in with the other documents regarding her daughter. Mia's father had his own copies.
Hermione wasn't certain he cared.
She thought he had, but was obviously wrong.
She had no one to blame for herself caring. She knew there was no way Mia could come to be without her developing feelings. That she'd chosen a man who didn't seem to have any. Well, knowing what she was getting into a year ago when she didn't have feelings wasn't the same as today, leaving with feelings very much in play.
Bag over her shoulder, she again picked Mia up from the bassinet she'd called home for the past handful of days since her birth. She clutched her to her chest tightly for a moment before she loosened her hold just a bit to go downstairs.
Harry didn't say anything else. There was nothing more to say.
"Tell Ron," she said, voice cracking from the sobs. Morgana, this was hard. "Well, tell Ron that I love him, too, when he's ready to listen."
"He knows."
Unsaid was that the prat didn't know how to take his head out of arse, and realize that Hermione hadn't gone out of her way to hurt or humiliate him. She'd run the numbers. The numbers hadn't lied to her.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Ron hadn't spoken to her in over a year. Not completely unexpected given the years leading up to the Battle of Hogwarts where they did their "will we, won't we" dance. It turned out, won't we won out.
In Hermione's mind anyway.
She knew he was aware the twins were born, but he hadn't visited her at St. Mungos. He hadn't come to Grimmauld Place when Hermione had been here this week either. If Harry saw him the past week, which he hadn't said, it was away from the house.
"You're sure?" Harry asked, his voice cracking.
"I'm sure."
"If you need anything. Anything at all…"
"I know, Harry," she said.
"And I don't just mean money."
"I know. Thank you. I have to…"
"I know," he said. It was his turn to wipe his eyes with the cuff of his sweatshirt.
Kingsley had "kindly" allowed her to use a portkey from Harry's backyard versus having to go through the Ministry with Mia and be stared at. No one but Kingsley knew who was using the portkey. So, no one would know where she went.
She could have made an illegal one, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of doing that. That would make him think she believed she was doing something wrong.
Kingsley didn't realize yet that Mia wouldn't be attending Hogwarts in eleven years. A magical child another country's magical system would educate. He might suspect, but she hadn't told him for certain. She honestly had no desire to come back here. Other than to see Harry, and, hopefully, Ron when he was done being mad.
Harry watched, unmoving from his spot as she made her way to the backdoor and into the yard. The last thing she heard as the portkey activated was her best friend's sob.
It was silent at the other end of the portkey when they arrived. Of course it was, it was the middle of the night here. Everyone in the neighborhood was probably sound asleep. Except the house that was their destination.
They were awake.
They knew she and Mia were coming.
They were waiting for her.
A single mum before she turned twenty-one. What did the wizarding world think they were doing passing such decrees!?
She was very lucky they were willing, and able, to help her.
"All right, Mia, let's go meet Grandma and Grandpa," she said.
+++++
June 2011
"Mommy! Mommy, it came! It came!" The ponytail bouncing in time with her gesturing only drove home the point her little girl was growing up. She wondered when she'd stop being Mommy. She cherished it while she had it. She liked being Mia's mommy.
Hermione smiled a bit at Mia's enthusiasm at her first personal piece of magical mail. Oh, she'd gotten things from Harry over the years, but this one was written just for, and to, her. It was proof she was a witch and could start her magical education. Hermione remembered the feeling.
The major difference between her and her daughter?
Hermione Jean Granger had had no idea such a letter would be sent to her.
There was no doubt that Mia Jane Granger would be getting her letter. She had her first burst of accidental magic before she was two. Not that Hermione had been worried her daughter wasn't magical. (Though she and Mia's father had joked about it serving the Ministry right if a bunch of squibs resulted from their decree, instead of the magical children they were aiming for.)
She was so excited to start her education at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on September first. Hermione had visited the school this past winter to see both the facilities and the area it was located in in the Mount Greylock area. She had never been to that particular area before, despite living in the United States for ten years, and wanted to see firsthand where her daughter would soon call home ten months out of the year.
For her part, Hermione had spent the past four years self employed with a small practice as a human rights lawyer. She'd worked her way through college and law school as an accountant. Ironically, some of those clients referred people to her when she branched out to law, bringing her her first legal clients. It was one of the good things about living in a small, but friendly, rural area. She was not just a hard worker but capable and word spread. It helped that there were tons of human rights issue situations in the area they lived.
Her parents, for whatever reason, after Hermione fled Britain to their care in Australia eleven years ago, decided to up and move to a remote area in Minnesota of the United States, about 250 miles from the nearest large American (or Canadian) city. Hermione could either stay in Australia, where she knew no one, or uproot with them. Fortunately, their decision came early into Hermione's relocation, so she hadn't yet found a job or anything. She'd spent the year in Australia with Mia and her parents studying for, and then sitting, her NEWTs.
(No surprise to Harry, she finished college and law school in record time.)
With Mia.
Without Eden. Today there being no Eden with them was more prevalent than other days.
"Did you open it?" she asked.
"Not yet," she said.
Was she worried that the letter said something other than welcoming her to Ilvermorny's class of 2018?
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Hermione prompted.
Mia broke the wax seal on the envelope's flap and slid the letter out. Hermione's heart stopped beating for a moment as she watched Mia read the letter. She saw quite a few emotions pass over her daughter's face: apprehension, anxiousness, interest, and finally excitement.
She finished reading and handed it to Hermione who read the letter, knowing full well it welcomed her to the fall 2011 term. She'd known she was a witch very early on, so there was no question she'd receive her letter.
Hermione finished reading the letter, remembering her reaction to hers twenty years ago. She presumed her daughter would be more excited. Hermione had been shocked, before realization set in that the letter she received was legitimate, and unexplainable things from her childhood suddenly made sense. Mia was raised knowing there was a very good chance she'd go to a magical school. (Unless for some reason she decided not to.)
"Did you not want to get the letter then, Mia?"
"No, I do."
"Okay," she said, tilting her head a bit as she regarded the girl.
Bookish she definitely was, but she could just as easily be found playing soccer, bicycling, and swimming. In the winter, she skied, curled, and ice skated as well as defended the black belt in Tae Kwon Do she'd earned with the best of them.
Her bedroom was full of trophies for swimming, skiing, soccer, and Tae Kown Do. Harry found it hilarious that her daughter was sporty. Harry also lived vicariously through Mia, coming here for as many events as he could make.
Why?
Because he hadn't been able to do any of these things when he was growing up. Honestly, Hermione enjoyed the company, though she had made friends with other parents of children participating in those activities over the years.
She and five or six women, depending on appointments, activities, visitation weekends, and vacations, got together once a month for coffee and to talk about what they'd been reading as well as their months. It wasn't a book club. They had on occasion all read the same book and discussed it at their coffee date. That wasn't the point of the gathering, though.
The fact that she had … friends, even if she'd agreed to the first invitation to join them for coffee almost nine years ago now, because one of her clients said she really looked like she could use a break. (Going to school, holding even a part-time job, and caring for Mia made her days hectic.)
Mia was far more comfortable wearing jeans, T-shirts, and hiking boots than she was a dress and heels. And her hair? No curling irons, straighteners, or hair products touched it. She was a wash and go girl. She very rarely pulled it back even. Today was an oddity. She'd been out running and returned to find the mail had been delivered. The perch for owls was near there. So likely it was the owl that led to her checking for the muggle mail. She'd shower and change from the run, and her hair would be flowing freely once more.
Instead of Lady Gaga, Rihanna, or Britney Spears that she heard other mum's in town complain about the appropriateness of, her daughter preferred listening to the likes of Aretha Franklin, Ruth Brown, Ann Peebles, or Billie Holiday.
Perhaps that was her father's influence via genetics somehow. Or perhaps it was something else entirely.
Hermione would likely never know.
She lowered her head toward Hermione's. "Can I show it to Grandma and Grandpa?" This was asked in a whispered hush, as if she was afraid here in their house someone who shouldn't would hear her.
So, she was excited, but wanted to share that excitement with Hermione's parents. Grandparents who caught on to what accidental magic was very quickly, and said things about Hermione as a baby made sense now. Grandparents who supported and encouraged not just Mia but her mum too, even if they weren't magical.
And wasn't sure she could include them. She was glad the need for discretion she'd imparted on her for years was working, but felt bad that she didn't realize that the fact her parents knew meant she could show it to them.
They'd been Mia's staunchest supporters over the years. Hermione sometimes thought they supported her endeavors more than Hermione did. Harry had mentioned wondering if it was guilt, that they'd never thought beyond things like piano and dance lessons for Hermione to do as a child. Neither of which she excelled at. So, they supported Mia because they were glad Hermione had thought outside the box for ideas on keeping Mia occupied. And challenged.
"Of course you can," she answered. She thought her parents would be rather hurt if Mia didn't show them the letter. "You just can't show it to any of Grandma and Grandpa's friends."
"What will you tell them?"
"The same thing you'll have to tell your friends. That you've been accepted to a specialized boarding school."
"Oh," she said, scrunching her nose. "Like the one Jeremiah was sent to?"
"No," Hermione said with a soft laugh.
Jeremiah was the son of a neighbor of her parents' who had become a friend of Mia's. He had to be sent to a juvenile detention center in the area for the first term of the school year that just finished due to some misbehavior on his part. She hadn't forbidden Mia from seeing him when they visited her mum and dad, but she had kept a watchful eye on them. The last thing she needed was Mia being curious about law breaking activities. Hermione had read the incident reports leading up to his sentence at the detention center. She would have defended him for free, despite the charges seeming legitimate. His parents hadn't wanted to accept her charity. She couldn't force them. He wasn't a bad kid, but seemed as if he got caught up with some bad friends. He'd changed, for the better, since being released from the detention center.
"Not quite."
Mia knew that Jeremiah had been caught breaking rules. That was all she knew. That Hermione knew of. She supposed Jeremiah could have told his friend everything and Mia had kept it to herself. Hermione didn't think so, though. Her daughter was pretty good at being honest with her.
Jeremiah actually reminded Hermione a bit of Mia's father. The strong silent detached type. Uncommunicative on a good day. In a downright foul mood on a bad day. Didn't have the greatest example at home of how to behave and participate in public without sarcasm and barbs. Because he had never gotten … proper guidance at home, he got sucked in by those he thought accepted and wanted him. Who were, sadly, only using him.
Then Hermione hadn't gotten hugely familiar enough with his habits to know what made Mia's father tick. She thought she had, but it turned out she was horribly wrong. Brightest witch of her age fooled herself into thinking the man cared.
Maybe the foul mood was part of his good day!
She glanced away, looking out the window at the lake their home looked out over. She'd thought more than once that her father and Eden would have loved it here as much as she and Mia had. She couldn't deny it had been his influence, preferring at least the presumption he was isolated from people, for living as far from town as she did.
On the dock, Mia had caught fish with her grandpa and learned to swim off of it, as well as water ski. (Which was evidently not all that similar to snow skiing. Who knew?) Things she should have been able to do with her father. She was sure this summer would be filled with more of the same. When she wasn't in school, Mia spent most of her days outside. During the summer she tanned to the point of looking like a penny. She assumed, years ago, that her ability to tan so deeply without burning was something she got from her father. Hermione could tan, but not the way Mia did.
Thinking of the past was not going to do her any good. Especially today. Her parents would know. They always knew! Fortunately, they weren't the type to fly off the handle and presume Hermione had been jilted, misled, or anything else. They believed her when she told them what happened and why. Could she have done things differently? Maybe, but it wasn't Mia's dad's fault she hadn't. As long as they didn't hate him without knowing him. Kids knew those things. She didn't want Mia to think her father was hated and evil.
"Can we go?" she asked, waving the letter at Hermione.
"Now?"
"Yes."
Oh, there was that excitement Hermione had been expecting to see.
"Well, I suppose we can. Let me get ready and check the kitchen and pantry real quick for any supplies we need."
It was an over twenty mile trip into town. So if she was going to drive in to see her parents, she was going to get things she needed while there, too. It wasn't so bad at this time of the year, but, in the wintertime, they could be stuck out here with the roads closed for a day or two after a bad storm. The road leading to their house was a one-lane gravel road most of the way from the main road. A couple times, desperate, she'd apparated to her parents' house and used their car to get to town because not driving to or from the drug store or clinic would seem odd. Not to mention there wasn't anywhere very close to those things for her to apparate because they were all around busy areas.
"Okay," she bounded off then, taking the letter with her.
Hermione fought back the tears as she took one last look at the dock. This was a happy day. Her daughter got her acceptance letter. Proof she was, in fact, magical.
It was also proof that at least one of the two children that she knew Kingsley would have badly wanted at Hogwarts was going to be missing from their first year roster.
Had Eden received her letter? Which school was she going to? She couldn't imagine any child they produced not being magical.
Hermione knew it wasn't Ilvermorny, because their dad said he'd rather be in China than with "the Yankees". And it wouldn't be Hogwarts because that was what they'd agreed to. That only told her where she wouldn't be. Then again, he could have gone back on their agreement, knowing she wouldn't and end up sending Eden to Hogwarts anyway.
Deep down she knew he wouldn't go back on their agreement. He wouldn't want a child of his with any secrets going to Hogwarts. It wouldn't take searching too deeply to find out Eden was a twin.
Damn the man!
How could he sleep beside her night after night for weeks while they tried for Mia and Eden? Not to mention continuing to after they'd been conceived, which was absolutely not necessary, and just let her walk away? She truly didn't understand. Even to this day. She really didn't think he was that heartless. She thought he'd come to at least like her.
She never felt used.
She was never under the impression he left their house and cheated on her.
She never once suspected he'd thought of anyone but her while they were in bed together. There were no ghosts of anyone in their brief marriage. Well, their brief time living together while married. They were still married. She clutched at the wedding ring she wore on a necklace around her neck, charmed so Mia and her parents couldn't see it. She wasn't hiding it from her parents, but she was afraid one day her father - magical or not - would go give the Minister for Magic a piece of his mind. And she just didn't want that.
Their first few times had been … awkward. She didn't believe he found them any less so than she had. He hadn't offered up the information, and she hadn't asked, but she didn't get the impression he had vast amounts of experience to where he expected it to be anything but awkward at first either. After that, though, she thought he enjoyed himself. She'd been a good wife over the course of the months she lived there as that. Opinionated, but he'd agreed and married her knowing that was who she was.
She thought she had anyway.
Showed what she knew.
If she had been, he certainly would have fought for her. Fought to keep their children together. Maybe offer to try and make their marriage a real one. She certainly wasn't going to be the one to ask him to! She wasn't daft. She just.
She really thought he'd come to care!
Morgana knew she'd fallen a little in love with the man from their first night together when he'd been kind and gentle despite the awkwardness. He'd even given her a therapeutic potion after the fact. She didn't think other wizards would be that thoughtful of her comfort afterwards. He hadn't been of the mind that this situation was her idea, so she could just deal with whatever he chose to do.
For that matter, he'd stayed . In the bed with her. He hadn't gotten up to leave once the attempt at pregnancy had been completed. She knew others wouldn't have stayed. (She had heard through others, some she knew and some she didn't, that this was the case. Not that she engaged in gossip, but she had ears and stood in lines for her morning coffee, the floo, and lifts just like everyone else.)
She swiped at the few tears that escaped, wiping them off her cheek with a sigh. There wasn't a day that went by in the past eleven years that she hadn't thought of Eden. Some days were better than others. Today was a bad one.
Expected, since Mia received her letter.
She'd have a glass of wine and a good cry while taking a hot bath tonight when Mia was in bed. She had things to do today. Her daughter wasn't going to sit still while she wallowed, trying to figure out a wizard she couldn't claim to know any better than she had before they entered into their bargain, despite living with him for over a year.
Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com