Chapter Text
With These Hands
'It shouldn't have happened, especially not to a child; but the vagaries of Chance and Fate make no distinction towards those they affect. Hermione Granger started off as normal as normal could be. If it wasn't for an unwitting carrier of a debilitating disease at her daycare, young Hermione's life would've been completely different.'
Chapter 1: A Change in Destiny, Part 1 (Hermione's Story)
March 2008; Excerpt of an interview between Emma Granger and a reporter from Meningitis Now magazine
"It all started in the middle of the night when she started whimpering in her cot. She had a slightly raised temperature and I put it down to teething so I gave her some medicine. Hermione went back to sleep but started whimpering again about half an hour later. This time, Hermione was sick so I changed her and brought her into bed with me so that I could keep a closer eye on her." Emma's voice hitched as the memories of that horrible night threatened to overwhelm her.
"As my husband was getting ready for work the following morning I noticed that Hermione's breathing was very erratic so I brought her downstairs with me and phoned the doctors straight away to which they told me to bring her straight down. We went to the doctor’s surgery to be told that Hermione had an ear infection, and just to give her some ibuprofen for children. At this point Hermione could not lift her head off my chest, and she barely interacted with her environment which she would normally do. The doctor could see this but I trusted his judgment. We went to my parents’ house so that I had support looking after Hermione. It wasn’t until we were changing Hermione’s nappy we noticed some very scary looking dark bruise-like marks all over her nappy area. I was terrified. I have never been that scared in all my life. I knew at that point something was horrendously wrong."
Hermione's earliest recollection of what happened on that fateful day was only what she remembered from her mother's stories. She'd been dropped off at her daycare where everything seemed to be going as normal. What no one knew at the time was that one of the workers had somehow contracted bacterial meningitis but wasn't showing any symptoms other than some moderate coughing and the occasional sneeze as they handed out toys for the children to play with which, at the age of about fifteen months, Hermione did what all children do and put the toy in her mouth.
Monday 3 September, 2012
Children are amazingly resilient, as 7-year-old Hermione proved when she bravely went about her day. She woke up like normal, got dressed by herself before pulling out her bionic arms she'd received from the NHS. She unplugged the charger cord and slipped her forearm into the socket. The internal circuits reacted almost immediately as she flexed her muscles which triggered sensors that in turn actuated the tiny motors and opened and closed the fingers. Smiling, she grabbed her book bag and bounced down the stairs, taking them two at a time before making the turn at the hallway that led into the kitchen.
"Morning, mummy!" she called out cheerfully as she entered and took her seat at the kitchen table.
"Morning, baby. Are you ready for your first day of Year three?" Emma kissed her daughter on the top of her head and set down a bowl of cereal and milk before returning to the kitchen.
"Uh-huh! I can't wait to learn something new." Hermione eagerly dug in and smiled toothily around the mouthful of food, her cheeks puffing up like a squirrel.
Emma sent her daughter an exasperated look, "Hermione. Don't do that, if you choke on your food you won't be able to go learn."
Hermione quickly swallowed, looking sheepish. "Sorry, mummy."
Dan Granger appeared not too long afterward, awkwardly trying to get his tie to lie flat. "Good morning, Granger Gals!" Emma rolled her eyes at the salutation while Hermione giggled. Dan pouted, "So much for being one for all and all for one." He gave his wife a peck on the lips and his daughter a kiss on the cheek. "So what's everyone's plans for today?"
Hermione immediately launched into a litany of things she wanted to learn when she got to school. Dan's eyes widened playfully, "School? Who said you could go to school?"
Hermione got a look on her face so reminiscent of her mum whenever she was being teased, it gave Dan the shivers and prompted him to immediately raise his hands in surrender. Emma snorted lightly at her husband's submission and answered his earlier question that she was going to run some errands.
Hermione entered her first class for her Year Three (7-8 year old) form and took a seat, looking around the classroom with eager anticipation. "Miss Granger?" Hermione turned at the sound of an adult addressing her and smiled up at the teacher. "Good. I see here according to your registration that you have prosthetic arms, but I think this must be in error because I don't see them anywhere." The teacher's twinkling eyes and small grin clued Hermione in that the teacher was just teasing her.
Hermione crinkled her nose cutely and held up both arms, "Here they are!"
The teacher gasped in 'surprise.' "Well, I'll be! You're correct, those are prosthetic arms! Wow, they look so real. Now, just so you know, I'll be starting you off slowly to make sure you can keep up with the other students. Remember to try your best and not get discouraged if the assignment doesn't turn out the way you expected." She laid out a practice vocabulary worksheet and gave the excited girl the go-ahead to begin.
At break time, the students were wheeled out, walked out under their own power, or were gently escorted by their caregivers to the playground. Hermione skipped out and reveled in the feeling she got from the sun as it warmed her skin. A couple of the other kids surrounded her, curious about her 'robot arms.' The most common question was, "Why do you have them?"
Hermione patiently explained the oft-told story about how she'd gotten sick and lost her arms. "I don't really think I lost my arms but instead got an upgrade." She struck a heroic pose, "I'm Battle Angel Hermione!" She held that pose for a moment before dissolving into raucous giggles. "Sorry, it's a Japanese comic that my daddy shared with me while I was getting fitted with my new arms. She's a being known as a 'cyborg' which is a human brain inside of a robot's body..." Hermione trailed off when she realized she was losing their interest. "Sorry, I get carried away sometimes. So what do you like to do when not in class?"
The others' moods changed from information overload to one of happiness as they shared stories about what interested them.
In another lifetime, a more driven Hermione Granger would've considered social interaction with other children her age to be a waste of time in the face of learning something new. This drive would've alienated her to everyone around her to the point where she never really learned how to make friends. However, in this universe, Hermione was a bubbly, out-going little social butterfly who recognized the importance of reaching out to others around her and drawing them in. If she stopped to think about the differences, she most likely would've chalked it up to the support staff and engineers at the prosthetics company where they talked with her, drawing her out, making sure that she didn't retreat into her shell. On top of that was the support she received from her parents and listening to them tell her story to everyone who was interested.
Now, despite her outgoing personality, Hermione Granger did have one thing that never changed. She loved to read. From the very first story that was read to her as a toddler, to when she was able to prop up a picture book and carefully sounded out the short words on the page; Hermione was hooked. Everything and anything to be read was fair game in her opinion.
It was that love of reading which led to her discovering new and exciting adventures with every turn of a page.
Tuesday 24 September 2013; A year later, In the school's library...
"So what are you in the mood for today, Miss Granger?" The librarian politely asked her.
The recently turned 9-year-old Hermione pursed her lips thoughtfully, "Do you have anything on magic?"
"Anything in particular about magic? Did you want to learn how to perform magic tricks?"
Shaking her head no, Hermione held up her arms, "I was hoping for something where the hero or heroine was able to cast magic that didn't require the use of her hands."
Nodding sympathetically, the librarian led her to the fantasy section and hunted around for a bit before pulling out a book, "I think this might fit the bill. It's called the 'Chanters of Tremaris.' In this story, the heroine, Calwyn has never been beyond the high ice-wall that guards the sisters of Antaris from the world of Tremaris. She knows only the rounds of her life as a novice ice priestess, tending her bees, singing her ice chantments, and dreaming of the future."
Hermione's eyes grew wide with awe as she took hold of the book. "Wow, thank you!" She headed over to the tables and settled in to read, getting thoroughly, and happily, lost within the tale.
Back at home, after school...
Looking back, Hermione would never really be able to discern what came over her to try and sing a spell that caused her backyard to suddenly explode in a massive bloom of flowers. She laid back against the shade tree in her backyard to finish reading the book she'd gotten from the library. After she closed the cover, she stared off into the distance wondering what her life could be like if magic was really real. "I'd love to be a witch. I think I'd be a good witch too. I'd have a cute little black kitten to ride on the bristles of my broom, make potions in a large cauldron while singing about toadstools and black hats..."
Hermione sighed in contentment before a slight breeze tickled her nose. Crinkling the bridge of her nose, she let out a loud sneeze and shivered from the action. Her gaze slid over to the cover of the book the librarian had recommended and wondered what it would be like to sing magic into reality. She idly plucked a dandelion flower bud from the grass and subconsciously sang a little song:
"Sing a song of flowers, flowers all around.
Flowers that are growing, growing in the ground
Flowers of each color make a pretty view.
Red and orange and yellow.
And blue and purple, too."
As expected, nothing happened except the odd whisper in her mind hinting to her that it might work if she tried again and sang it to the tempo and rhythm of the nursery rhyme 'Sing a Song of Sixpence.'
The second time, she got a response...
Emma stepped out to see where her daughter had disappeared to only to be confronted with the astonishing sight of their once-grassy backyard completely filled in with a colorful bounty of flowers. "Hermione?"
A robotic hand rose above a group of blue flowers by the shade tree, "Here."
"What happened?"
Hermione's voice was more confused than scared, "I'm not sure."
"Well, come on in; your homework is waiting for you." Emma shook her head at the impossibility of what she was seeing and headed back in.
After finishing her homework, Hermione returned to the backyard to ponder what had happened that caused so many flowers, none of which she recalled her mother planting, to suddenly bloom. A stray thought crossed her mind that they only appeared after she'd sung that silly song. "Did I do this?" She carefully picked her way back to her spot under the tree, gently running her fingers through the various blossoms. "But magic can't be real, can it?"
Figuring that there was only one way to prove or disprove the existence of magic, she retraced her steps. She tried singing the song, but as before, nothing happened until she matched the song tempo and rhythm again.
Still nothing happened...
She tried different songs from her favorite artists.
Again, nothing happened. A frog croaked somewhere amongst the flowers near the wall. Frowning, she her attention was drawn to the gently waving flowers and snorted in realization, "Duh, there's no more room here for more flowers to grow! Okay, how could I...which song would I need to sing...hmm."
It took her several tries, mostly trying to match a known song beat to the words she'd was attempting to sing before she landed on a children's song called 'Did you ever see a Lassie?' her mum had sung to her during bath time when she was little:
"I'm always picking flowers,
I'm always picking flowers,
And petunias are my favorite;
Let's pick some flowers, and put them in a vase to brighten up my room.
I'm always picking flowers,
I'm always picking flowers,
And marigolds are my favorite, they smell so good;
Let's pick some flowers, and put them in a vase to brighten up my room.
Flowers red and flowers blue,
Some for me, some for you.
Put them all together in a bunch,
Flowers yеllow and purple too;
Some for me, somе for you!"
"HERMIONE!" Hermione flinched when she heard her mother screech before the back door burst open. Emma Granger stood there with flower petals falling off her hair and a wild-eyed look on her face. "What was that?! The whole house is stuffed to the rafters with flowers!"
"That was magic, Missus Granger." Both Grangers whirled around at the sound of a new voice coming from the bushes.
"Who's there?" Emma gathered Hermione up in her arms protectively.
"My name is Harley, and I was attracted to your daughter because she sang such beautiful magic. I've not heard anyone Sing the Songs so well in such a long time."
Emma bobbed her head trying to suss out where the person was and debating whether or not to call the police, "Would you please show yourself?" Her mouth dropped open at the sight of the...creature that emerged. "What...who are you?"
The creature, wearing what appeared to be a flower-print pillow case like a tunic, curtsied politely, "My name is Harley. I am a magical creature known as an elf."
"Like Santa?" Hermione piped up hopefully.
Harley smiled softly but shook her head, "I'm sorry, but not really; at least not the way you're probably hoping." She gestured at what flowers remained in the garden, "Elves are a member of the Fae race and we're attracted to people who can cast magic. We serve them in return for the ability to siphon off their excess magic to survive."
"Serve them?"
Harley bobbed her head, her large ears flapped. "Yes, Mrs. Granger. If I have her permission to bond with her, I would assist in anything she needs to do like cooking, cleaning, helping with day-to-day activities, even bathing if necessary."
Hermione had managed to extricate herself from Emma's grip and slowly approached the elf, "So, I did magic?"
Harley smiled her confirmation, "Yes, you are what's known as a witch."
Emma gasped as she latched onto her daughter's shoulders and dragged her back. "But...witches are evil!"
Harley sighed, "Not always, Mrs. Granger. Just like in this world, there are good and bad people of all types. Your daughter is, I hope, a good witch. (Hermione bobbed her head up and down energetically) Like I said, I was attracted to her because she Sang magic in a way that we elves haven't heard since millennia past. I heard her Singing a welcome home song and I just had to investigate."
Hermione puckered her lips in consternation, "But I was singing a song to clear the yard of the flowers!"
Harley shrugged, "It amounts to the same thing. You were welcoming the flowers into your home."
"Oh. Yeah, I guess I did."
Emma's teeth were worrying her lower lip, "Well, why don't you come in and we'll discuss things." She took a step back to let Hermione and Harley pass by before yelling up the stairs for Dan to come join her in the living room.
"What's wro....ng." Dan trailed off at the sight of Harley sitting on the couch next to his daughter. "Oh, boy...hello. Elf, right?"
Harley wasn't the only one to look surprised at his knowledge. "Dan?" Emma questioned him.
Dan's shoulders slumped as he got a sheepish look on his face. "I was hoping we could've avoided this when Hermione got sick. Emma, I'm sorry I never mentioned this before but I know about elves, witches, wizards, and magic. My family used to have a connection to the magical world a long time ago before that ability was lost around the time when my great-grandfather was born. He and his wife were only able to have Squibs, which was right about the time when the Dagworths broke off from the Grangers."
Emma stared wide-eyed at her husband for seemingly the longest moment before she responded in the most unlikely way. She laughed, and hard. Coughing and wheezing, she managed to croak out, "You too?"
Dan cocked his head confused, "You know?"
Emma giggled, "I vaguely remember my grandmother telling me stories about a famous man known as Hector Dagworth-Granger who'd formed some kind of society during the late 18th century. Are you saying you're from that family?"
"Yeah...?" he drawled uncertainly. "You're a Squib too?"
Emma replied that she didn't know but it made sense to assume that she might be given her grandmother's stories about learning magic in a faraway castle, a strange game played on broomsticks, dragons, elves, and Goblins who ran a bank. "The bulk of her stories included one tale of a particularly nasty witch who took great pleasure in making sure that my grandmother's parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins never prospered. It's why they died so poor and why my parents made sure I studied as hard as I could."
"What's a Squib?" Hermione chirped from where she was still sitting.
Harley patiently explained that a Squib was a non-magical child born to a magical family. "As opposed to a muggleborn which is the exact opposite. Then you have a half-blood which has one magical parent and one non-magical parent. The final distinction is a pureblood, which is a child who is born to two magical parents."
Hermione puzzled that out, "So what would this make me? Am I a...a muggleborn?"
Dan waggled his hand, "I'm not entirely sure how that would work out, but all you need to be concerned with is that we still love you no matter what." He turned back to Harley, "So how did you come about?"
Harley explained her story again about how she'd been attracted to Hermione's singing magic to clear the backyard of the flowers and her offer about becoming the family elf in exchange for Hermione's excess magic. Dan shared a look with his wife who subtly nodded her agreement, "We're okay with it as long as you accept that you'll be a part of the family rather than the traditional servant role. This means you'll eat at the table with us, share in doing the chores, wearing clothes, and everything else that goes into being a family."
It was Harley's turn to be surprised at this sudden turn; eyes tearing up from the overwhelming emotions that threatened to become a reality, she wholeheartedly accepted. The now-four Grangers joined hands as Harley led them in the Bonding ritual which would tie them together. A flash of gold light filled the room just as the warmth of family filled their hearts sealing the bond forever.
Time skip:
With Harley's help over the intervening years, Hermione (and her parents) learned the intricacies of musical magic. She took singing lessons and developed her voice into a mezzo-soprano range known for its rich, warm tone with power in the mid-range and capable of high notes. Hermione's voice had a distinctive husky, soulful quality that she was able to carry into the higher ranges. Her vocal teacher praised the determined pre-teen, "Your strength lies in your emotional delivery and control rather than sheer technical range, which in itself is substantial. I expect great things from you, my dear."
Harley would sometimes disappear into the Fae realm to bring back scrolls and ingredients to teach Hermione in the 'Old Ways' through ritual chants, specific times of the year that corresponded to key moments in the alignment of energies, the stars and planets, as well as how to read and understand the world around her. The family of four would take nature walks with Harley acting as a sort of guide, pointing out important facts, letting Hermione feel how magic interconnected with plants and animals, to breathe in the fog and expel the air to produce moments of incredible clarity.
They would sometimes just sit quietly within a fairy circle and listen to the buzzing of insects, the birds in the trees and the animals that called the woods home. Those were the moments that Hermione cherished the most. "I really appreciate what you've shown me, Harley. I realize now that magic is more than just reciting spells out of a dry, dusty old book. Magic is all around us if you just know where to look."
In addition to learning musical magic, Harley also assisted with Hermione's regular magical education as well. The elf introduced the small family to the wonders of Diagon Alley, both through the hidden entrance to the Leaky Cauldron as well as the optional entrance through Beeman's Books located just around the corner. "Beeman's is actually the non-magical entrance favored by the muggleborn patrons who don't want to be...hassled, for a lack of a better term, by the magical people who frequent the tavern."
After one such trip through the pub, both Dan and Emma had to agree with her. Tom the barkeeper was friendly enough to point them in the right direction towards the hidden entrance, but the underlying feeling of suspicion, if not outright contempt, they picked up from the other patrons wasn't as nice.
The owner of the magical bookshop, Mr. Flourish of Flourish and Blott's, was a kindly old man who delighted in showing the Grangers around. He easily recognized kindred spirits in the written word and directed them to the children's section that catered to new-found magic users and their families. "These books were written with children in mind to teach them the basics of navigating their new world. Inside you'll find simple concepts like how to properly greet someone depending on their social class, pureblood versus half-blood and et cetera. You'll also find a primer on how to identify the different families from their crests that are worn on their robes for formal events. Finally, there's a general overview of the types of different creatures, toys, wands, and other things that can be found within the magical community."
He then led the adults over to another shelf, "These books are geared for the parents of said child. They contain the various laws and regulations for people such as yourselves. I'm guessing muggleborn?"
Dan waggled his hand, "Not really sure. My last name is Granger, and there's some talk about whether or not we're part of the Dagworth-Granger lineage." A little white lie, but a necessary one.
Mr. Flourish gaped, "Wow, that's a...well, I still recommend you read through this one even if it turns out not to be true. Laws are laws regardless of which family you're from. If you're interested in determining with any certainty which family you belong to, I recommend you stop at Gringotts and get a lineage test done."
Their next stop was Gringotts where after 'donating' a drop of blood; the Goblins confirmed that Hermione was indeed the first witch of the Dagworth-Granger line and therefore eligible to inherit the vaults and heiress-ship status. There was even a ring for her to wear to allow others to identify her as belonging to an established family.
Hermione frowned and held up her bionic arms, "I don't think a ring will work on these."
Her new account manager, Daggerclaw blinked in surprise as he examined her prosthetics. "That's different. Okay...well...hmmm. Let me call in some help to determine how we can go forward from here." He pressed a button on his desk and sat back to wait.
In the meantime, Dan and Emma had a slew of questions about the vaults, the remaining investments, and if the Dagworth-Granger manor still stood. "If it does, and it's no longer in a livable condition; I think the house itself should be torn down. I'm not looking to move my family from our comfortable home into a place that held such bad memories for my ancestors."
Daggerclaw could understand that and made a note to investigate. "If the house is no longer viable, what do you want to do with the land?"
Dan glanced over to where Hermione was in quiet conversation with Harley, "Could you set it up so it becomes a refuge for displaced elves? Did my family have any elves that survived?"
Harley overheard and moved over to join in the conversation. "That's a nice offer, but displaced elves usually just return to the Fae realm."
"Oh, okay. In that case, just let the land remain as it is so it can return to its natural state. I'm sure that at some point, it'll become useful in the future."
Daggerclaw heaved open the ledger and ran a clawed finger down the listings. "According to this, your family did indeed at one point have a few elves but they either died of natural causes or returned to their home realm not long after the family split up."
The consultant arrived fifteen minutes later. After speaking briefly with Daggerclaw, the new person scanned Hermione's arms checking for any connections to her magic. Finding none, the consultant frowned, "The ring interacts with the witch or wizard through skin contact. Merely holding the ring against her arm or even toes should suffice."
Given that Hermione didn't have any toes thanks to the meningitis; she opted to press the ring against her arm. There was a swirl of sparkly energy as it connected to her magic, a song of joy and family rushed through her ears and in her head welcoming the wayward witch home. Her eyes teary, she sniffled happily. "That was beautiful."
Emma promised to hold onto the ring until they got home where Hermione could put it on a necklace she had in her jewelry box.
Ministry for Magic
Dan had the brilliant idea after leaving the bank to swing by the magical Ministry to register their house as a magical domicile. "I vaguely remember a cousin who just enough magic to trigger their sensors. From the stories told, he used to drive them crazy so I figured that we could get around that by letting them know ahead of time."
Harley showed them the visitor's entrance (a red telephone box to Emma's amusement.) "Dial 62442 then tell the automated voice where you need to go."
Dan had Hermione do it so she could get used to it. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."
"Hermione Granger. I need to go to the department to register my house as a magical home."
"Please state the names and business of the others in the booth with you."
"Oh! Daniel Granger, Emma Granger, and Harley Granger; my parents and sister who will be going with me," she replied sheepishly.
"Thank you. All visitors, please take your name badge and remember to sign-in with the Welcome Desk. Welcome and have a pleasant day."
The interior of the kiosk began descending into the ground.
Eyes and heads on a swivel, the Grangers took in the expansive ceiling of the Ministry before following the signs to the Welcome Desk where they repeated their destination to the witch. "Very well, I need your wands for identification purposes."
Dan replied that he and his wife were Squibs. Hermione held up her bionic arms, "I'm only ten and I don't think I'd be able to use a wand."
Harley cutely answered that as an elf, she wouldn't be legally able to hold a wand.
The Welcome Witch coughed a laugh at the grinning elf, "Silly elf. Okay, it's not a problem. Just fill out this form and press your thumbs...wait, that won't work either. Hmmm, oh! I know...." She pulled her wand out and cast a diagnostic charm over the human Grangers. "There, that's an identification charm normally used to track adventurous children. I'll record the signatures for each of you in our records."
Emma chuckled and gestured back towards the kiosk which was currently returning to its original position. "You know, if you ever wanted to mess with your visitors; you should change the entrance to a blue police box."
A slow knowing smile crept across the Welcome Witch's face, "Only if it's bigger on the inside. Maybe we could borrow one from The Doctor; I'll have to ask."
Level Three - Muggle Liaison Office
"Hello, I wasn't sure if I needed to head here or to the department that deals with underage magic, but I need to register my home as a magical dwelling," Dan explained after greeting the clerk.
"It's all interconnected so either department would've been fine. Here's the forms you'll need to fill out. There are chairs and a table over in the corner. Which one of you is magical?" Hermione raised her hand. "Have you received a wand yet?" She shook her head and replied that she was only ten. "That's fine. I'll make a notation of that here." He filled out a special box that was explained it would allow them greater leeway in the event when Hermione started practicing casting magic either as part of her homework during the summer or just general day-to-day magical casting. "The enchantments need to be renewed at the end of each school year, so be sure to schedule a visit with this department no later than May in case we get busy."
Once the forms were filled out, the clerk commented how appreciative he was at their proactive stance to guard against breaking the Statute of Secrecy. "I wish more muggleborns were as considerate."
"It could be that no one ever took the time to suggest it to them. It's not like a tour of this new world is part of the initial contact visit," Emma answered calmly.
On their way back up, the group came across a heavily scarred man limping along on a primitive-looking replacement leg. "Hello, may we help you?" Hermione politely asked him.
The man gruffly smirked, "Thank ye kindly, lassie but I'm doing just fine. Master Auror Alastor Moody." He held his hand out to her and was surprised when she shook it without hesitation. He noticed her bionic arms, "When did Saint Mungo's improve their limb replacements?"
"Saint Mungo's?" Questioned Hermione as she tilted her head curiously.
"It's the magical hospital. Ah, you must be muggleborn?"
At Hermione's nod, she introduced her parents and sister. "Well, Harley's an elf but I think of her as my sister."
As they rode the elevator back up to the Atrium, Dan and Emma filled Moody in with a general overview of advanced bionics and Hermione's tragic story. Dan fished out a business card from the company they went to and handed it over. "They do good work. I daresay that your current leg isn't doing its job properly if you've been limping that badly."
Moody bobbed his head in agreement, "I was in a firefight against a baddie who won't be bothering anyone anymore. One of the bastard's spells clipped me in the leg, instantly killing it. Healers say it was a Dark curse that prevented them from regrowing the muscles and nerves." He patted the fake leg, "It's not perfect, but it does keep me out of a damned chair. Judging how comfortable your daughter is with her arms, I think I should take a look into this company."
When the lift doors opened, he gave them all a nod and limped off.
Under the cover of some well-placed elf enchantments designed to hide their backyard from prying eyes, Hermione practiced singing her spells; sometimes to hilarious results. There was one time where Harley had instructed her to try making a water barrel twice as deep, only for the barrel to shrink twice as small leaving behind a sopping mess as the water inside the barrel squirted everywhere.
There was another experiment when Hermione tried singing a bathing spell only to flood the bathroom with thick walls of sudsy bubbles. Another experiment on her father's car suddenly left it stranded on the side of the road bereft of an engine. Hermione blushed brightly when it was towed to the auto mechanic, "Oops."
During this time, Hermione and her parents partnered with a new prosthetics company that provided her with a pair 3D printed bionic arms. These new arms were lightweight, easy-to-use, and had a greater flexibility and control than she'd ever had with the NHS limbs or the previous company she'd paired with. When asked what color she wanted her new arms to be, Hermione immediately declared, "Periwinkle Blue, and I want the tops of the hands to sparkle with diamonds!" The techs snickered at her enthusiasm and talked her down to 'mere' rhinestones in the meantime.
Hermione's friends, both in the neighborhood and at school, all congratulated her on the new arms and declared them 'wicked cool.' One boy even went so far as to wonder if she could rig them to fire tiny missiles or shoot laser beams from a hidden cannon. Hermione giggled, "Silly, there's just enough room for the electronics. However, I will pass along your suggestion. Maybe someone will create a special model for Halloween."
Saturday 17 September, 2016; Granger Residence
That Saturday, the Grangers received a visit from an unlikely person. Professor Minerva McGonagall was dressed in a somewhat old-fashioned dress that wouldn't have looked out of place back in the thirties, as in the 1830s. She had a stern face that hinted at a strong will and determination. She glanced at the parchment in her hand and frowned at the odd sensation of being watched. "Is someone there?" There was no response so she just chalked up the feeling to the usual sort of being alone in the muggle world and approached the front door. She sucked in a short intake of breath at the feeling of elvish wards the moment she crossed the property line. "Something...is different."
The moment she reached out to knock, the door swung open to a bushy-haired girl curiously peering out, "Hi, who are you?"
Minerva smiled warmly down at the girl, "My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall. Are you Hermione Granger?"
Hermione nodded, "I am. Professor, huh? What do you teach?"
Before Minerva could respond, the girl's mother appeared in a huff. "Hermione, you left your arm hanging off the couch. I nearly tripped over it. Go on..." she shooed off her daughter and let out a huff of amusement, taking in Minerva's appearance. "Sorry about that. I'm guessing you're here to invite Hermione to attend Hogwarts?"
"How did you know?"
Emma couldn't help it and waved her hand mystically, "Magic."
Minerva let out a light snort of amusement, "Indeed. How long have you been waiting to trot that out?"
"Quite a while. Ever since my husband and I figured out some of the things that Hermione did could only be explained as magic." Emma chuckled and waved her in, "Come on in. I guess you could classify us as a sort-of 'Squib-born' family rather than the traditional muggleborn." She directed Minerva to an open chair and whispered something in Hermione's ear. She nodded and scampered off into the kitchen. "My husband was born to the Granger half of the Dagworth-Granger family (Minerva's eyes widened in recognition), and as you clearly know; that makes him a Squib. I only recently determined that my family came from a Squib born to the Fawley line."
"That doesn't explain the elvish magic I felt as I approached the house or the odd comment about Miss Granger's arm," Minerva remarked as Hermione came back in carefully carrying a tray of tea cookies before dashing back out to retrieve the kettle. She returned a moment later, being trailed by Harley who was giving the girl a look of exasperation and gentle admonishment about the last time she tried to magic the kettle to float behind her.
Emma gestured towards Harley who bowed her head respectfully to Minerva. "Professor, this is Harley Granger. Born an elf, bonded to Hermione as family. As far as we're concerned, that's what she is. Family."
"I dinna ken..." Minerva was amazed by the turn of events. She reached into her bag and pulled out the Letter of Acceptance. "Then I suppose you won't need the whole 'magic is real' speech. I'll also assume that you don't need an escort to find Diagon Alley to purchase your supplies, should you decide to attend?"
Emma shook her head. She gently laid a hand on her daughter's shoulder (the girl had been humming something under her breath causing the tea in her cup to swirl without the aid of a spoon.) "There's just one issue I hope Hogwarts will be able to accommodate Hermione with. When she was fifteen months old, she contracted a rare strain of meningitis which resulted in her lower arms and hands needing to be amputated. She wears these prosthetics but I'm worried that the magic-heavy environment of the castle will prevent them from operating properly. Now, we've been inside your Ministry and they've worked fine there, but I've been told that Hogwarts is far more steeped in magic than they are. On top of that, because she has no 'human' hands, I fear that she won't be able to cast magic the traditional way through a wand."
Minerva looked genuinely concerned, "The poor lass. I thought those were merely gloves. You mention the 'traditional' way. Does she know another method?"
Here, Emma gave Hermione permission to cast a simple spell to make the tea cookie plate float. Hermione scrunched her face up and set her pace to the Peter Pan's song 'You can fly.'
"Think of a wonderful thought
Any merry little thought
Think of Christmas, think of snow
Think of sleigh bells, off you go!
Like reindeer in the sky
You can fly! You can fly! You can fly!"
Without even the rudest wave of a hand or wand, the tray of cookies smoothly rose off the table and hovered without even a slight wobble to the utter amazement from Minerva. She slumped back into the chair and stared open-mouthed at the triumphant pre-teen.
"I'll need to speak with my colleagues, but I daresay that we can accommodate your request. Oh, Filius is going to practically dance with joy when he meets you!"
Hermione concentrated and slowly retracted the spell, lowering the tray back onto the table. She perked up at the mention of the new person. "Who's Filius?"
Minerva coughed at being caught out, "That would be Professor Flitwick to you. He teaches Charms and is the Head of Ravenclaw House. I'm certain he'd be absolutely giddy with the prospect of meeting someone who has such a firm grasp of alternative methods of casting magic. Myself, I teach Transfiguration and the Head of Gryffindor House. Do you have a copy of Hogwarts, A History yet?"
Hermione nodded, "Yeah, it's one of my favorite books to read! I love the parts that talk about the Founders and the beginning of the school. My other favorite magic book I picked up last time we went to the Alley is on ritual-based magic. That's where I found the spell to stir tea without needing a spoon. It's actually pretty simple, you just need to alter the pitch of your voice on the third stanza to control how fast the water swirls."
One of Minerva's eyebrows rose, "Ritual magic is dangerous to try on your own, young lady."
Hermione thumbed in Harley's direction, "I've got Harley to keep me from doing anything...difficult. Mostly what I do is simple stuff like growing flowers during spring, cleaning the house, or keeping pests away from the house."
"Incredible. Your control is impressive, my dear."
Hermione beamed at the praise. "Thanks! Will I be able to start school now or do I have to wait?"
Minerva sympathized with the eager child, "I'm afraid you'll have to wait until next September. The cut-off date is August 31st to attend the same year at Hogwarts. Well, I think that's everything I ought to cover which is a lot less than what I'm used to going over with prospective families."
With that said, Minerva gave her farewell and left the house. She couldn't wait to tell Filius about this upcoming first year, Hermione Granger. "She's a shoo-in for Ravenclaw."
Time Skip:
Because Hermione's birthday fell past the normal cutoff date to attend Hogwarts, she had to wait until the following year before boarding the Hogwarts Express. This gave her plenty of time to perfect her spell casting skills, come up with new songs, and read her books. The Grangers eventually got their address hooked up to the Floo Network, and visited Saint Mungo's for any required inoculations. It was while they were waiting for the Healer when Hermione spotted Auror Moody speaking with a Healer. "Mr. Moody! Hi, how are you?"
The Healer was stunned when Alastor responded gently to the excited child. "Hello, Miss Granger. I'm doing much better since the last time we met." He raised his trouser leg to show off the new bionic leg. "It no longer hurts and you'd never know it was there if I hadn't revealed it."
Hermione grinned happily, "That's wonderful, I'm glad it worked out." She turned at the sound of her mum calling her name. "Be right there! I've got to go. I'm getting my shots before starting at Hogwarts."
Moody nodded approvingly, "Good idea. Run off with you, lass."
As they followed the attending Healer, the group passed by the Children's Ward where Hermione saw other kids awaiting their own limb replacements. While her parents were filling in the Healer about her previous medical information, she wandered over to a table with some kids. "Hi, I'm Hermione. Are you waiting for new limbs too?"
One little boy glumly nodded and held up what remained of his left arm. "Yeah, I found out what happens if you play around with muggle fireworks." Another child revealed they'd experimented with some strange metal muggle wand that made a loud noise after pulling a lever and got their hand blown off.
Over with the Grangers, the Healer chuckled at the sight of Hermione demonstrating her bionics to the awed kids. "I ought to give you the forms for her to fill out to become a Healer here. I have a feeling she'll be working here before long. Your daughter's a natural at drawing others in and easing their fears about getting healed. She's got the makings of a future Hufflepuff."
Friday 1 September, 2017; King's Cross Station, platform 9 3/4
Uncharacteristically nervous, Hermione put on a brave face as she and her parents stepped onto the magical train platform. Harley looped her hand into her sister's elbow, "Relax, you'll do just fine. Remember, I'll join you at the school when you arrive."
Hermione pouted cutely, "But why couldn't you ride with me on the train?"
Harley winked, "Because it's tradition and this is one tradition that you need to do on your own. You'll meet a bunch of new people and maybe even make new friends. You can't just hang around your boring older sister all the time, you know."
"You're only older by a month!" Hermione protested.
Harley snickered, "It still counts. Now, go on with you." She shooed her sister towards an empty carriage only to cringe when the bushy-haired girl tripped in a tangle of limbs with a black-haired boy. "Oh, this is going to be an interesting year...."