Chapter Text
“Where is my client?” A raised female voice sounds from outside the infirmary.
Hermione, Ginny, and Neville all look at each other. After the battle at the Department of Mysteries, Hermione was recovering from Dolohov’s curse, Neville from his broken nose, and Ginny from her broken ankle.
Of the three, Hermione had the most recovering to do, and was on a regimen of 10 potions. If she hadn’t silenced Dolohov before he cursed her, she’d probably be dead.
Madame Pomfrey steps out of her office, and gives the three of them a distracted glance before heading towards the door.
It bursts open before she can reach it, revealing Professor Dumbledore and a statuesque raven haired witch. The witch, wastes no time marching into the infirmary and right past a startled Madame Pomfrey, ignoring Professor Dumbledore, who is hot on her heels.
Hermione can tell at once she’s the object of the witch’s focus when they lock eyes.
Raising a sheet of parchment above her head as if she were brandishing a sword, she crosses the room.
Halfway to her bedside, the witch says, “Miss Granger, I am Margaret Vilthrope, and I’ve been engaged by your parents to act as your family’s magical legal representative.”
“My parents?” Hermione asks, confused.
Ms. Vilthrope offers her the parchment to read, and kindly casts a lumos for her to do so. Parchment in hand, Hermione’s eyes quickly scan the text and find them to be in agreement with what the witch said. Her gaze lingers on the familiar scrawls of her parent’s signatures.
“This is highly irregular,” Professor Dumbledore says once he joins them.
“It is,” Ms. Vilthrope agrees. “Here the underage daughter of my clients sits in an infirmary with what appears to be a serious magical ailment, and her parents and legal guardians haven’t been notified.”
At this, Professor Dumbledore’s cheeks redden. “Yet, they haven’t been notified yet.”
The witch folds one arm over the other and arches a brow. “Pray tell, were they notified when Miss Granger was petrified by a Basilisk or spelled to sleep and placed at the bottom of the Black Lake?”
He begins the fuss with the intricate cording edging his aubergine robes and glances toward Madame Pomfrey as if she might answer for him.
Instead, Poppy Pomfrey steps forward and asks Hermione, “your parents were never told about your petrification?”
Hermione slowly shakes her head, and Madame Pomfrey glares at Professor Dumbledore before muttering something about how some people have no respect for parents under her breath.
Ms. Vilthrope, detecting a potential ally in her, addresses her directly, “Madame Pomfrey, would you be so kind as to list out what potions Hermione currently needs and their dosage, and if possible gather a two or three day supply? At her parent’s direction, I am here to withdraw Miss Granger from Hogwarts.”
“What?” Hermione, Neville, and Ginny, all ask in unison.
Before she can answer, Professor McGonagall walks in, wringing her hands.
“Is it true?” She asks Professor Dumbledore.
It’s Ms. Vilthrope who answers, “if you’re asking if Miss Granger is leaving Hogwarts, yes, it’s true Professor McGonagall.”
“But the term is almost over. Why not allow her to finish it out with the rest of her classmates?” Professor McGonagall asks.
Hermione drops the parchment onto her lap and clasps her hands together, hopeful this witch will see the logic in her Head of House’s words.
Ms. Vilthrope shakes her head. “I’m following her parent’s wishes. Given the current political climate, the Granger’s are relocating to the continent.”
“They’re what?” Hermione gasps, her eyes widening in shock.
“Next term you will be attending Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.”
Flinging back her coverlet, Hermione makes to stand, prompting Madame Pomfrey to rush to her bedside to stop her. “You are not well enough to get out of bed yet Miss Granger.”
Ms. Vilthrope turns to Madame Pomfrey. “I was expecting to leave with Miss Granger tonight. Is she not well enough to travel?”
“Tonight?” Hermione asks in horror. “Do I have a say in this at all?”
Ms. Vilthrope ignores her question as she waits for Madame Pomfrey to reply.
“It would be best if she spent the night. It’ll be a few days before she’s well enough to floo or portkey.”
Hermione relaxes slightly at the news she couldn’t be moved right away.
Ms. Vilthrope looks from Hermione back to Madame Pomfrey. “Could she travel by muggle means, perhaps with a wheelchair and then by automobile?”
“Why not have her stay at Hogwarts until she’s fully recovered?” Professor Dumbledore asks.
Both Neville and Ginny nod in agreement from their beds.
“Her parent’s wishes are for her immediate return. A delay of one night given her condition will likely be acceptable.”
Madame Pomfrey gives Hermione a sympathetic look before saying, “she should be well enough to travel tomorrow morning by the muggle means you mentioned.”
Eyes stinging, Hermione asks again, “what about what I want?”
Ms. Vilthrope perches herself on the end of her bed, near her feet, the change making her closer to eye level with Hermione. With a swish of her wand, she retrieves the parchment from where it landed when Hermione flung her cover back.
“Miss Granger. You are a minor, and your safety and wellbeing are the responsibility of your parents. I recognize the magical world is new to you, but please believe me when I say the amount of danger you have already faced at this school is unacceptable.”
There was something in the witch’s tone that stops Hermione from arguing further. A new emotion crept into her current state to rest beside the frustration she was currently experiencing. It was guilt. As much as she didn’t like what was happening, what the witch had said was true, her parents were responsible for her. The guilt she was feeling was because she had hid much from them. Every single time she wrote them or spoke to them about school when she was on break, she knew what she was doing was wrong.
They trusted her, and had always been nothing but supportive of this monumental change to their circumstances. She was a witch and instead of reacting in fear or shame, they had been proud of her. Hermione didn’t know how they learned about the danger she had faced here, and didn’t care. When it came to them, the only thing weighing on her mind was the fact she hadn’t told them herself.
Hermione dips her head in acknowledgment, her mind racing to Harry. It seemed almost cruel to be leaving him so abruptly after Sirius’ death.
She turns to face Professor McGongall. “I know we’re not supposed to have visitors this late, but-,” her breath hitches at the idea of telling Harry and Ron.
Her eyes full of understanding, Professor McGongall says, “I’ll send for Mister Potter and Mister Weasley.”
Ms. Vilthrope stands to also address Professor McGongall. “Could I arrange with you the packing of Miss Granger’s things?”
With her lips forming a thin line, Professor McGonagall responds with a curt nod, and says, “I’ll see to it.”
Ms. Vilthrope smiles warmly at her, her smile dropping when she swings her gaze next to Professor Dumbledore. “Shall we go to your office so we can complete Miss Granger’s withdrawal paperwork?”
“Perhaps I could speak to the Grangers myself,” he replies.
“They are waiting for me at my office. We can floo there from your’s, if you would like to speak with them directly. I must warn you though, they are adamant in their decision to remove Miss Granger from Hogwarts.”
There’s a twinkle in his eyes when he retorts, “nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
He might believe there’s hope, but Hermione knows her parent’s well enough to think otherwise. They were happy in London and had a thriving dental practice there. No way would they have taken lightly any decision to move.
“I’ll prepare the list of her potion schedule and pack enough of each so you won’t need to have to source any yourself. Please owl me should her symptoms persist. Either way, I’ll also include the names and contact details of the healers I’ve worked with in France, Belgium and Germany,” Madame Pomfrey says, turning toward her office.
Ms. Vilthrope replies, “thank you Madame Pomfrey,” and then to Hermione she says, “I understand this has been a shock. Please try to get a good night of sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow when it’s time to leave.”
Within moments, all the adults are gone, Professor Dumbledore and Ms. Vilthrope to his office, and Professor McGonagall to Gryffindor tower.
When the door swings shut behind them, Hermione, Ginny and Neville all stare at each other in a shocked silence.
After a few moments, it’s Neville who breaks the silence by saying, “blimey Hermione, do you think Dumbledore will be able to talk your parents into letting you stay?”
Ginny speaks before she can answer, “of course he’ll convince them, he’s Albus Dumbledore.”
“He won’t,” Hermione argues, her eyes stinging again and her nose tingling. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have kept so much from them.”
Ginny’s eyes brighten, and she says, “you’ll be seventeen in the fall. It’s the age of adulthood for witches and wizards. If you stay with them until then, you can leave afterward and they won’t be able to stop you.”
Hermione, older than most of her classmates since her birthday was in September, had already considered and dismissed this thought. She had reconciled the idea of omitting details of her time at Hogwarts to her parents, but what Ginny suggested would be knowingly going outright against their wishes. Hermione didn’t want to risk ruining their relationship altogether. She was an only child and to do so would break their hearts.
“I feel bad enough already for keeping so much from them. I don’t want to lose them, if anything, I only wish I would have told them myself.”
Frowning, Ginny asks, “but wouldn’t they have only withdrawn you sooner if they knew?”
Then she gasps, and adds, “do you still think they’ll let you come stay with us this summer?”
The stinging increases, resulting in an escapee tear. She quickly brushes it away, her throat too thick to reply with anything other than a shake of her head.
The approach of Harry and Ron is unmistakable. Since they’re allowed to be out of the dormitory this late, neither does anything to quiet their steps. Seconds later, the door flies open with a bang.
“McGonagall told us,” Ron pretty much shouts as they cross the room, his loud voice echoing.
Hermione doesn’t have the heart to correct him and remind him he should really say Professor McGonagall.
Harry’s out of breath, his cheeks flushed. “We won’t let them do this.”
Hermione’s voice cracks with her reply, “I’m afraid it’s hopeless.”
Both Harry and Ron visibly rear back at the certainty of her tone, Ron saying, “but, but, but,” with nothing else to add.
Whatever tears she’d held at bay flow freely now, streaking down her cheeks. “I’m going to miss you both so much. Please promise you’ll write.”
“I don’t know French,” Ron groans.
Sniffling, the absurdity of his words slow her tears, and she replies, “I’ll write in English you prat.”
He rubs the back of his head, and looks down at his feet. “Right.”
Ron looks up, his expression brightening. “We’ll abduct you like we did Harry in second year. The Burrow has muggle repelling charms so your parent’s will never find you.”
Even Harry’s eyes round in shock at Ron’s suggestion. “Mate, it’s one thing to escape from the Dursleys. They’re mental, and hate me. This isn’t the same. Even if we don’t agree with it, they are Hermione’s parents.”
Hermione doesn’t point out what a turnaround this comment is versus the first thing he said.
Harry slips off his glasses and rubs his eyes. “It’s all my fault. Sirius dying, you getting cursed and now this. I’m so sorry Hermione. I should have listened to you.”
As horrible as Hermione feels right now, a part of her understands why her parents are pulling her from Hogwarts. She might disagree with it, but the logic is irrefutable. Harry’s mind doesn’t work like hers. His upbringing wasn’t built on the adults in his life looking after his best interests. After the tragic deaths of his parents, until he came to Hogwarts, he was hardly cared for at all. Any trust he had for the adults in his life, was a recent thing.
The very last thing Harry needed was to blame himself. It wasn’t his responsibility she had kept things from them.
“This isn’t your fault Harry, I’ll not have you trying to claim it. Bellatrix killed Sirius, she’s to blame for his death, and I’m to blame for what my parents are doing. I should have been honest with them. I won’t know how things could’ve changed if I was, but either way it’s on me, not you.”
He opens his mouth to argue, but she continues, “don’t make this harder for me than it already is. I hate this, but I’ll hate it even more if I think you’re beating yourself up over it.”
Harry closes his mouth and gives her a grim nod.
Throat already starting to feel thick with emotion again, she opens her arms wide and says, “I’m going to miss you both so much.”
Neither boy hesitates to rush over and hug her, Ron skirting her bed to go to her other side. Hermione’s heart does a small flip at his nearness. Now she was leaving, it seems silly not to admit to herself she had been developing a bit of a crush on her red haired friend. With her arms around both of them, she also realizes her crush is pointless now. Unless he came to France to visit her, it was likely she wouldn’t be seeing either of her best friends anytime soon.
While there was a teeny voice in her head that also thought Harry should’ve listened to her, what was done, was done. If she made a big deal about being right she could potentially irrevocably harm her friendship with Harry. Saying I told you so wasn’t worth the risk. Hermione Granger was going to face these consequences head on.
“You both better write me, even if it’s only about quidditch.”
Ron lifts his head at this. “I can write loads about quidditch.”
She wants to cry and laugh at the same time.
Ron pulls away first, and Harry gives her an extra squeeze before straightening as well.
“I wish Colin was around with his camera now. I’d love a picture to take with me.”
Ginny snorts, making all three and Neville look at her for an explanation.
After a grimace, she says, “You know I love you, but you were cursed earlier. I hate to say this, you look like you were trampled by a hippogriff.”
Harry blinks at Ginny, while Ron squints down at Hermione and says, “she’s right Mione, you look terrible.”
Her eyes narrow and he lifts his hands in an attempt to placate her. “At least you didn’t die.”
“Ron,” both Harry and Neville groan.
“What?” He asks.
The return of Professor McGonagall saves them from having to explain what he said was unhelpful.
She approaches the group. “Mister Potter, Mister Weasley, it is time for you both to go back to your room. Mister Weasley, since you are a prefect, no other escort is needed. I’ll trust you both head straight there.”
Ron drops his hands. “We’re really going to miss you.”
Harry adds, “it won’t be the same here without you.”
Whatever tears were banished by Ginny’s comment return. “Please be careful and take care of each other.”
They both nod before slowly making their way out of the infirmary, looking back to wave more than once.
As soon as they’re gone, Professor McGonagall speaks directly to Hermione. “Miss Granger, I am truly saddened to see you go. You have been an exemplary student and member of Gryffindor House. No matter where you go, you will always be one of my lions.”
Swallowing the lump forming in her throat, Hermione says, “thank you for everything, Professor.”
Madame Pomfrey reappears as Professor McGonagall turns to check on Ginny and Neville.
She administers another potion to Hermione, and changes Ginny and Neville’s bandages, before addressing all three. “It’s time for rest now, you all need a good night sleep.”
With a flick of her wand, the curtains surround each bed to further discourage any conversation between them. Before long, Hermione hears Neville’s slight snores, and Ginny’s bed squeak as she likely turns to one side. Sleep for Hermione seems impossible though.
Any trick she normally would lean on to quiet her tumultuous thoughts isn’t working. Part of her wouldn’t give up on the hope she could think her way out of this somehow.
Her swirling thoughts were interrupted by her curtain being drawn and Professor Dumbledore taking a seat beside her bed.
When she opens her mouth, he lifts his finger to his lips instructing her to not say anything. He then casts a silencing bubble around them and says, “Miss Granger, I regret to inform you I was unsuccessful in convincing your parents to let you stay.”
His words are no surprise, until what he says next.
“I wonder if you would consider a proposal. It is clear to me how much you wish to aid Harry and I have an opportunity that would allow you to do so.”
Hermione gulps, and says, “I do want to help Harry.”
His eyes twinkle as he pats the top of her hand, “yes, yes, and if you agree to my proposal, help him you shall.”