Harry Potter and the Cracked Reservoir
Chapter 20: Hermione ’s Majority
By Musings of Apathy
Chapter 20: Hermione’s Majority
Thank you to my Beta’s Donalddeutsch, Cateagle and Sparky40sw.
Hermione Jane Granger was born September 19th, 1979 and as, in the wizarding world, a young person’s seventeenth birthday marked their start in their adult life, Tuesday had seen her enjoy her most important day. She had celebrated it in a style that she, uniquely, enjoyed. She had been eagerly wished a ‘happy birthday’ by more people than she would have ever thought would be even casual friends. She had had a good day of lessons and a great evening in private with her boyfriend. What she looked forward to more was the coming Saturday, however maliciously. The feral smile on her face might have scared even Moody. She smiled as she recollected receiving permission from the Headmaster to ‘visit her parents’ with Ginny. The smile would have certainly scared most Aurors.
Adding to the grin was the knowing look from the Headmaster. Sometimes he was just too well informed about what the people in the school were thinking.
Yet, permission was still granted, which surprised Hermione after the Headmaster’s grin. She, of course, mused that Harry probably wouldn’t have been surprised at all, as he had more experience with the aged professor one-on-one.
"Ginny, are you ready?" she asked her younger friend.
Hermione looked up to see the redhead woman smiling at Harry.
"Just a sec," Ginny said before bending down to Harry’s ear.
"Hey, babe," she said lightly to him. "You don’t mind me going with Hermione to visit her parents, do you?"
Harry smiled and pecked her on the cheek. "Of course not. You need time with your friends separate from me. I’ll be fine."
Ginny smiled at her considerate boyfriend. "Just don’t hurt yourself today."
"I won’t. Have fun," Harry dismissed.
Ginny and Hermione smiled, with a predatory glint in their eyes.
"We will," they said together softly.
As the girls were taking a portkey from the Headmaster’s office to Hermione’s home where her parents were waiting, Harry was walking through the halls of Hogwarts to an inconspicuous transport crest, so he wouldn’t be seen disappearing. To Harry’s mind, this method of entering the Chamber was certainly better than the old method.
He contemplated what he would practice today, as there was no Quidditch practice later. He had finished his homework. Nothing to do but practice for a bit. His thoughts turned back to a month old question in the back of his mind. What would happen if he were to put his magic reserves behind a flame spell? Could he melt a piece of the obsidian that he has been working with for the crests?
He chuckled to himself at the idea. Maybe today he could find out.
A gasp and the sound of the coffee table being bumped were the sounds that initially greeted the teenage girls upon arrival at the London home of Doctor and Doctor Granger, husband and wife.
Mrs. Granger was standing in the living room, her shoulders steadied by her husband, with her hand over her heart from the shock of seeing two teenagers materialize in front of her in an instant. Mister Granger had to suppress his chuckles at the sight of his normally in control wife jumping in fright at her own daughter.
"Hermione Jane Granger," said the mother of one. "Don’t do that. You almost gave me a heart attack."
"Sorry mum," said the bushy haired teen. "But you’ve seen portkeys before."
"I know," said Mrs. Granger. "But that doesn’t mean that I’ll ever get used to them. You almost landed on top of me."
"Mum," Hermione said as Ginny giggled behind her hand, "I told you before, it’s not possible to materialize on top of something else. The magic won’t allow it."
"Magic or no magic, don’t do that!" her mother ordered.
Hermione smiled, "Okay, Mum."
"Hello, Mrs. Granger, Mr. Granger," Ginny greeted the room.
"Oh…Mum, Dad," Hermione said, mentally chastising herself for not making introductions, "you remember Ginny, right?"
The Grangers smiled and Mr. Granger replied, "Of course, honey," he said to his daughter. "Hello, Ginny. What’s new in your life?"
"Please, everyone sit down. I’ll go make some tea," said Mrs. Granger as the hostess.
"Now, dear, why are you really here in London?" asked a smiling Mrs. Granger.
"Just thought that we would visit my parents after my seventeenth birthday, Mum," replied Hermione with an air of innocence.
Mrs. Granger gave her daughter a look of serious disbelief.
"What?" Hermione asked, her innocent air faltering. Ginny just sat silent, studiously silent, watching the exchange between mother and daughter. "Okay, fine," said an exacerbated Hermione. "We’re going to go to Little Whinging to teach a little lesson to Harry’s Aunt and Uncle."
"And why is that, young lady?" her father asked.
"Well, um…" stammered Hermione.
"Mrs. Granger, Mr. Granger," Ginny said, relieving her friend. "We need to do this for our own sense of justice." She took a deep breath. "Hermione has probably mentioned Harry Potter to you before and so you probably have some inkling of what a wonderful person he is. What you probably don’t know is that he grew up in a house where the other people," she spat, "hated him. He was beaten and abused; mentally and physically. His relatives took steps to make sure that he knew how unwanted and unloved he was. He grew up in a four-bedroom home with three other people, his aunt, his uncle and his cousin; however, he was forced to live in the cupboard under the stairs until he received his first Hogwarts letter. I say first because that one was destroyed before he could read it as were the next several hundred. His uncle took great steps to prevent him from learning of his heritage until a representative of the school showed up in person to see that he had received his letter and was able to attend the school." By now she was on a roll, emotionally, and couldn’t stop. "Throughout his life under their care, he has been called a freak, beaten by his relatives, locked in his cupboard, starved and abused. He has been treated as a slave for the family to cover the ‘costs’ of his board there. This previous summer was the first time, since he was orphaned, that he has ever had an entire brand new outfit of muggle clothes. The first time that he ever had one article of new clothing was his Hogwarts robes when he was eleven. All of his clothing before was hand-me-down’s from his morbidly obese cousin. They tend to fit him like a tent. The one thing that I am glad of is that he was not born a girl and placed in that environment, so that the abuse would have been complete."
The Granger women in the room took a sharp intake of breath.
With a steely look in his eye, Mr. Granger asked, "Not to alarm you, but are you sure that the abuse was not ‘complete’ as it was?"
Hermione let out a small sob. Ginny was able to answer, though. "Yes, Mr. Granger, I’m sure. For a court proceeding to declare him an emancipated minor, he voluntarily took a truth serum and detailed every abuse. Even between the three of them, they did not take the final step. However, between the three of them, they did nearly every other despicable thing, mostly mental abuse from his aunt and uncle and physical abuse from his cousin with the knowledge of his aunt and uncle. They did practice corporal punishment, however, with a quite liberal view of what was punishable."
Mr. Doctor Granger took a deep breath before he spoke. "Consider that a good thing, then, Miss Weasley." At her odd, curious look he continued. "I assume that you are considering a future to your relationship with this young man?" She nodded. "Of the forms of abuse a child suffers, sexual abuse is the most destructive. The effects can go unnoticed for years and not crop up until adulthood to further ruin their lives. Evidence of other abuses can be noticed much sooner and can be more easily dealt with." He gave her a wane smile. "From the stories that I have heard of Mr. Potter, he has already overcome much of the expected problems and, with good friends such as yourselves, should move through the rest of the more subtle issues."
"Yes," Ginny said quietly, "Thank you."
"Now," said Mr. Granger, "I assume that you picked this weekend to meet out justice because you just turned seventeen, Hermione?" She smiled and nodded. "I also assume that you are not simply turning them in to the Bobbies because of a lack of evidence that could be presented to the magistrate?"
"Yes," Hermione answered.
"In that case," Mr. Granger said after a brief look in his wife’s eyes, "while we do not approve, if you will promise to abide by some things, Elizabeth and I will drive you there and back."
"What things, dad?" Hermione asked.
"You will do no physical harm that will require treatment of a doctor or healer, as you call them in you world, I believe," he listed. "You will not do any psychological harm that will cause loss of income or the like. And, Miss Weasley, as I understand that you are not a legal adult yet, you must promise that you will not use any magic."
At the look from the girls, Elizabeth Granger intervened, "Understand, we ask these promises to protect you from the law and a heavy conscience later. This is not what a parent wants to see their child feel that they have to do. We just hope that you are both safe. This is the best way, dear."
"Thank you, mom, dad," Hermione said sincerely. "We will abide and promise, as you said."
"Yeah, we promise," Ginny repeated.
Mrs. Granger smiled at the two young ladies before her. "Just realize, girls, that this won’t change the boy’s relatives’ viewpoints. Go into this knowing that this is for yourselves."
"It’s still necessary, mum," Hermione said.
"We understand."
As a black four-door Mercedes wove its way from London to Little Whinging, a stone chamber beneath the world’s oldest wizarding school was slowly increasing in temperature. Harry Potter stood at the tip of the Chamber’s seal fueling a firestorm in the center of the chamber with his magic. A fireball ten feet in diameter floated three feet from the floor, flames writhing in the sphere with an occasional flare-up licking the surrounding air. Small shards of obsidian, leftovers from the creation of the crests, drifted into the side of the fiery orb and flowed out the bottom in liquid form. Sitting on a steel stool below the sun-like mass was a delicate black dragon; forming from the pieces of amorphous solid that were melted in the fireball before being integrated in the sculpture. Each molten drop of obsidian began to cool and harden as soon as they reached the open air, making the working time precious.
Ginny looked at her watch.
Two hours.
Hermione had been yelling and scolding for two hours.
Ginny was impressed.
Ginny grew up in a home with six older brothers, a strong but youthfully spirited father and a red-headed mother that could cow all of her children plus her father and a good portion of the Order of the Phoenix, at one time, when she was hot under the collar. The secret for survival with her mother was to cut her rant off before she got a head of steam behind her. If you missed this crucial stage, she would not calm down before she had exhausted her fire.
The problem is that this was not her mother, although the differences, at that time, were a complete loss to Ginny. If you had told her that Hermione was trying to do a perfect imitation of her mother, the only constructive criticism that she could offer would be to add just a little bit of nasal tone to her voice and it would pass as perfect.
The Dursley family had no chance to have cut her off before she got on a roll, as the first thing that happened was a full body bind for the three people. They were still conscious and alert, from the beginning; they could just not move or speak. And so, she went on.
"…and furthermore, how DARE YOU tell a little child that they cannot ASK questions. The very idea of stifling a child’s mental growth is repugnant. Nothing a child could do or ask could have, should have EVER caused human beings to act in such a manner. You are all vile and contemptible. You should all be thrown to the hyenas save the fact that even hyenas value the young of their species more than you have shown."
Hermione paused to control her breathing and Ginny saw this as an opportunity to end this love fest.
"Okay, whoa there Hermione," said Ginny. "Your parents are still waiting and you’re starting to repeat yourself."
Hermione panted, sagging at the shoulders.
"Really?" asked Hermione.
"Yeah," said Ginny. "You mentioned the ‘asking questions’ thing about an hour and a half ago."
Hermione breathed out a sigh. "Oh. But it is important."
"I agree. And I think that they," she nodded at the Dursleys, "understand your feelings on the issue by now, but I think that it’s time to wrap this up and go to dinner before we go back to school."
"Okay," Hermione said, her voice getting hoarse now that she had slowed down. "Did you have anything to add?"
Ginny had a cold determined look to her eye. "Just one thing. Release that beached whale of a cousin of Harry’s."
Hermione, trusting Ginny, waved her wand, canceling the body bind. Dudley stood in fright, backing to his father’s frozen body.
"I do not like bullies," Ginny said, "and you are the worst. You should not pick on people smaller than you."
Ginny hauled back, straightened her wrist and drove her fist forward, pushing with her everything behind the punch from her legs, torso, chest, shoulder and arm straight through her knuckles, every ounce of power her small form held concentrated on the chin of Harry’s childhood tormentor.
Harry was still working in the Chamber of Secrets as Ginny and Hermione were finishing with their version of Justice and entering the luxury car for the ride home.
Harry couldn’t feel the heat any more as he had started to get chills and to develop muscle aches and a slight headache, as well as an upset stomach. He failed to notice that he was having a slight problem focusing that had nothing to do with the perspiration rolling onto his glasses. It didn’t occur to him that any of these things needed attention.
The beginning of the car ride back to London was quiet as everyone digested the day’s events. Mr. Granger finally cleared his throat to break the silence.
"That took a while. Could you tell us, briefly, what happened?" he asked, definitely.
Ginny giggled before explaining for her friend. "Not too much, magically speaking. Hermione paralyzed them and then yelled at them for two hours straight."
"Yes, we could hear from the car," Mrs. Granger said. "Even understood most of it."
Hermione gave an embarrassed ‘oh’ before she hid her blushing face.
"Figures," Ginny responded. "I only stopped her when she started to repeat herself."
"Impressive," her mom said.
"I thought so," Ginny said with a smile.
"What else happened?" asked Mr. Granger.
"Oh, well…just as you asked, nothing that would require a hospital."
He spared her a glance back as he drove, silently demanding a further explanation.
"Oh, all right," Ginny sighed. "I had Hermione unfreeze Harry’s cousin and told him not to pick on people smaller than himself and then taught him some humility."
"Not with magic, I hope," Mrs. Granger responded.
Now it was Hermione’s turn to giggle. "No. Perfectly muggle. He is roughly the size of a baby hippopotamus and she gave him one good punch to the chin and laid him out on the floor."
Mr. Granger answered this with nothing more than a raised eyebrow to the image in the rear view mirror in appreciation and reassessment of the diminutive young lady.
When Harry finally succomed to the heat that had been attacking his body, it proved to be fortuitous that he had been standing at the tip of the school crest. Just a couple of minutes after Harry’s unconcious body came to rest on the Chamber’s crest, Madame Pomfrey was startled to find him lying on the stone floor of her hospital wing, directly on top of the beautiful piece of stonework that he had installed for her. She imediately set to work assessing and treating her patient before she called the Headmaster on the floo.
The young Gryffindor ladies arrived back at the Headmaster’s office that evening on schedule to little fanfare and a very short conversation.
"Hello, ladies," said the aged Headmaster. "Am I to assume that your birthday celebrations were pleasing?"
"Yes, sir," both girls said.
"Ah, then," he said, "perhaps it would be best if you ladies retired for the night."
"Yes, sir," they repeated.
"And you may, if you wish," the Headmaster said, "stop by the hospital wing and check on Harry on your way to the tower."
"WHAT!?!" yelled Ginny. "What’s wrong? What happened? Is he all right? How long has he been there? What’s wrong with him? Why didn’t you get a hold of me? Why didn’t you tell me right away? Oh, I’ve got to go check on him!" She turned and sprinted out the door without waiting for any answers.
Professor Dumbledore and Hermione could hear the rapid descent of Ginny’s feet on the stone steps and the receding sound of her running from the office.
"To answer her questions, even though she has already left, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore said, "Harry has suffered from heat exhaustion and is being given plenty of water and left to rest and gather needed sleep. He will be given a pepper-up potion in the morning and will be no worse for the wear. I did not contact you and waited to tell you as there is nothing else to be done and it was far from dire. He has been in the hospital wing for a couple of hours now and is probably sound asleep at this moment."
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said politely.
"Now, off you go to your dorm," said the Professor, ending the conversation.
Harry spent a peaceful night amongst the stark white linen of the hospital wing with a vague impression of a fiery angel soothing him for a short time as he slept. The last thing any person wants to hear, a recognized voice using every syllable of your birth name as the start of a reprimand, interrupted said peace.
Apparently he should ‘be more careful.’
He shouldn’t ‘try anything like that ever again, you hear me?’
He should ‘take better care of yourself.’
He should ‘drink more water.’ (?)
He should ‘never, ever worry her like that ever again.’
(‘He should learn to wear earplugs to bed,’ Harry added silently.)