Chapter 3
Marlene carefully studied the girl in front of her as they ate breakfast. It had been about a week since Hermione came to stay with her, and so far the girl had a point; there truly was no classic or obvious signs of her being a Little. She woke early and on her own, joined Marlene for meals, and spent her days reading schoolbooks curled up with Crookshanks or practicing various spells.
Still, Marlene had her own signs as a Caregiver. She noticed how Hermione seemed to melt at terms of endearment, even if she remembered to be angry a second later. The tension that permanently lived in the girl’s jaw would disappear if Marlene made contact. And she asked a lot of questions, almost like a toddler.
“Am I your first Little?” Hermione asked suddenly, breaking Marlene from her thoughts. Typically her questions had been about Marlene’s school days, what her friends were like, or her Auror training and recent retirement to teach. This was the first that was related to classifications.
“You’re not,” Marlene answered honestly. “Remember how I said my best mate was classified as a Little? I was her Caregiver for a few years.”
“What happened to her?”
Marlene took a long swig of coffee before answering. “Voldemort.”
“Oh,” Hermione said, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Marlene said. “You didn’t know, and it’s a valid question. Her name was Dorcas, and she was killed by Voldemort personally.”
“Oh,” Hermione said again, and her eyes were trained down at her plate now.
“I don’t tell you that for pity,” Marlene tried. “It’s been years and I’ve made my peace, though I still miss her every day. But I want you to know, I’ve been on the front lines of Voldemort too, and if you ever want to talk, I’ll listen.”
Hermione nodded, watching her plate, and the conversation ceased once more. After finishing her breakfast, she excused herself, and Marlene watched her leave the dining room and noticed her subtly rubbing her arm. She would have to remember to ask about that at a later time, once Hermione warmed up to her.
Marlene finished her own breakfast and was in her office working on lesson plans when her fireplace turned green, and Sirius’ head appeared.
“Marls!” Sirius called. “Are you there?”
Marlene grinned to herself and set her work down, moving to crouch by the fireplace.
“Just preparing for the school year, Siri. What’s up?”
“Harry heard from the Weasleys that Hermione got placed with you. They were pretty tight-lipped about why, but I was there when you and Dorcas got classified, so I wanted to check in and see.”
Of course he did. Marlene rolled her eyes, knowing the fellow Caregiver from her year wouldn’t have been able to help himself when it comes to cooing over another Little.
“It’s exactly what you think,” Marlene said quietly, glancing at the office door in case Hermione was walking by, “but we’re still settling into that.”
“Well, all the same, Harry wants to see Hermione and spend some time together. I wondered if you’d be up for a visit? Or you’re welcome to come visit here if you’d prefer.”
“Let me see if Hermione is up for a visit,” Marlene said. “Like I said, a lot of…settling, is still happening.”
“Here too,” Sirius admitted. “Harry had just moved in, and now there’s a different dynamic to it. I’m hoping a visit helps them both, to be honest.”
“Give me a moment.”
Marlene stepped away from the fireplace and walked to Hermione’s room. The door was open, and Marlene could see she was sprawled across the bed, a large tome propped open in front of her.
“Hermione,” she called, knocking on the door frame all the same, “I’ve just had a Floo call from Sirius. Harry wants to visit, if you’re up for it.”
“Harry?” Hermione squeaked, sitting up so quickly that she knocked her tome over. “I, uh, what..I mean, I-“
“Calm down,” Marlene soothed. “He just heard from the Weasleys that you’d moved here, and he wanted to visit.”
“Does he…know?”
“I don’t believe he does, but Sirius does suspect because he and I were classified the same year,” Marlene admitted. “But Hermione, Harry is one of your best mates, and you haven’t spoken to him since the test. He was going to reach out and figure out you’d moved at some point, and if you want to tell him the full reason I don’t believe he’ll mind.”
“You’re…not going to make me tell? You’d still keep it secret?”
“Darling, nothing is happening here that you are not okay with. Haven’t you figured that out?”
Hermione stared up at her, and Marlene could see the thoughts rushing through her mind. She watched as Hermione bit her lip in thought for a moment before continuing.
“But I had to come here, I didn’t get a choice on that.”
“Your magic showed signs of instability. This was a case where we had to make a choice for your well-being. And I recognize that you didn’t get a say in that, and I’m sorry,” Marlene added.
“Okay, but about my magic…they said if I suppress…it, that it could hurt me. But you won’t force me to…drop?” Hermione winced as she said the final word.
Marlene looked at the girl carefully, tracing her thought process through big brown eyes. She finally moved to sit on the edge of the bed near Hermione, hoping she wasn’t pushing a boundary.
“If I start to sense that you’re actively repressing your headspace, or that you’re in danger of harm, I will intervene. But as it stands now, I don’t believe you’re at further risk of doing harm, so everything else is your speed,” Marlene promised. “That said, I would like your decision on a visit, as I do have Sirius waiting in my fireplace, and knowing him if I take much longer he’ll walk through to get answers himself.”
Hermione giggled at the thought, the sound eliciting a grin from Marlene.
“Okay,” she agreed. “He and Harry can visit, as long as you’re sure he’ll take it well.”
“If he doesn’t, I’ll handle them both,” Marlene winked, and Hermione snorted again as she turned to leave and go back to the office. Marlene checked and saw that, indeed, Sirius was turned away towards where she knew he kept his powder.
“Put your Floo down,” Marlene announced, smirking as she noticed Sirius jump at the sudden noise. “We just had to have a quick chat, but Hermione is absolutely up for a visit.”
“Excellent,” Sirius replied. “Let me inform Harry, and we’ll be over in, oh, half hour? Does that work?”
“Perfect.”
***
Harry and Hermione sat outside in the garden, kicked back on a borrowed picnic blanket. Marlene had taken Sirius into the kitchen for a cup of tea, allowing the two to their own devices for the visit. Harry was leaning back on his elbows, and Hermione could almost believe he was relaxed if she wasn’t used to the way he clenched his jaw when something bothered him.
“So, you too?” Hermione finally dared to ask.
He looked up at her in surprise, but upon registering her words he just nodded.
“It doesn’t make sense,” he truffled. “I’m the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One. I’ve been responsible for the state of the Wizarding World since I was a baby, and now…now I’m a baby?”
“Maybe not that young, but I see what you mean,” Hermione said.
“It’s ridiculous, and it can’t be right. I don’t care what Pomfrey said, she clearly messed up the test somehow. I mean, how is Neville a Caregiver and we’re both Littles?” Harry scoffed.
“Wait, Neville?”
“Yeah, I know, right?”
Hermione stared over at Harry, processing that news. “I mean, he does take excellent care of plants, I suppose, but…really?”
“I’m telling you, Mione,” Harry said, falling on his back and throwing an arm over his eyes, shoving his glasses up to his forehead in the process, “she messed up the test.”
“Hm,” Hermione hummed in agreement. “How did Ron take it when you told him?”
“Shocked, really,” Harry said. “Wouldn’t tell me a thing about you, though, only that you moved out. I overheard Sirius mention Marlene was a Caregiver though and put it together.”
“I suppose it is pretty obvious,” Hermione sighed. She collapsed on her back next to Harry, shielding the sun from her eyes as she watched clouds pass overhead idly.
“Have you dropped?” Harry asked, arm still over his eyes entirely.
“No. Haven’t even felt anything close.”
“I haven’t either,” Harry said. “I’ve had some moments that Sirius says is me getting close to dropping, but I’m not so sure.”
“Don’t fight it,” Hermione said quietly. “They said my core is unstable already and not dropping when my body wants to will only make it worse.”
“I don’t think I’m dropping,” Harry repeated. “I mean, am I just not allowed to ever feel ill again? Why does everything have to revolve around this now?”
“Because it’s only going to build up from here,” Sirius answered, causing both teenagers to look up in alarm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to listen in, I was just coming outside to check on you both.”
“We’re fine,” Harry grumbled, settling back down and covering his eyes once more, other arm thrown across his ribs.
“Does your head hurt?” Sirius asked, kneeling down gently. Marlene stepped out beside him, and Hermione could tell by the look on her face that Harry’s symptoms were not a good sign.
“I’m allowed to have a headache.”
“Let me guess, your stomach is also twisting up, sort of like taking a Portkey?” Marlene added.
“I’m allowed a stomachache, too,” Harry snapped, turning on his side away from both Caregivers. Hermione sat up and looked him over, and was struck by ho small he suddenly looked to her, curled in the fetal position and shielding his eyes from the sun.
“Harry,” she said gently, laying a hand on his shoulder, “I don’t like this for us either, but…it’s hurting you. You need to give in to it.”
“Like you’re going to,” Harry grunted.
“I…” Hermione began, but she trailed off, knowing Harry was right. Hadn’t she been spending the past few days wondering how to hold off on her inevitable drop? How to keep this from ever stopping her, slowing her down? Hadn’t she been reading anything she could to try to see if there’s a spell, a potion, anything to make this classification go away?
“I won’t fight it,” Hermione said finally, wincing as Harry grunted and pressed his hands into his eyes harder. “When my time comes, I won’t fight it, okay? Harry, we’ve done everything together, from fighting that troll in first year to finding Horcruxes and stopping Voldemort once and for all. We’ve done everything together, so when my time comes, we’ll do this too, alright?”
Harry rolled back to face her, peeking out from under one hand to catch her eye.
“Promise, Mione?”
His voice sounded young, younger than when she first met him, and Hermione felt a pull in her own stomach. Her eyes felt hot, and she immediately scolded herself for even thinking of crying when Harry was the one suffering right now.
“I promise,” she told him, brushing his hair out of his face. “Just stop hurting yourself like this, please.”
Harry winced again, but took a hand off his face to grab Hermione’s hand. He said nothing, just squeezed it in response.
The two Caregivers had watched the conversation quietly, and Sirius finally took the chance to scoot closer to Harry.
“Let’s go home, pup, hm?” Sirius said, and Hermione could see the man’s relief when Harry nodded and allowed himself to be scooped up.
“I’ll see you both out,” Marlene said, and she walked them inside. Hermione stayed on the blanket, chewing her fingernails idly as she replayed the image of Harry, small and frail, curled up in pain on the blanket. She listened as she heard Sirius call for Grimmauld Place in Marlene’s fireplace, and a few moments later Marlene was back outside.
“Talk to me,” Marlene said, plopping down next to Hermione on the blanket. “I can see those gears working, and I can see the questions coming, so hit me.”
Hermione kept her eyes trained down, but she felt a tear slip down her cheek. If Marlene noticed, she said nothing, even as Hermione reached up and wiped it with the back of her sleeve.
“Is Harry okay?” Hermione’s voice quivered as she asked.
“He will be,” Marlene said. “Fighting a drop can cause some physical ailments, as well as damaging your magical signature, but it gets way worse before any permanent damage is done. Your friend won’t feel well tonight, but assuming he gives in, Sirius will take care of him and he’ll feel much better tomorrow.”
“Can I talk to him tomorrow?” Hermione asked, finally looking up. Marlene looked her over with such tender care, and Hermione felt waves of warmth spread through her body.
“I’ll have to check with Sirius to make sure he’s up for it, but I don’t see why not.”
“Is that going to happen to me?” Hermione asked, and this was the question that fully broke the dam. Tears flooded and turned into sobs, and before she could fully process what happened Hermione found herself wrapped up by strong arms, her head carefully nestled in a shoulder.
“It could, if you fight it too much,” Marlene murmured. “But I’m going to do my best to keep that from happening.”
“I haven’t felt anything,” Hermione wailed. “What if…I don’t feel it, and…what if-“
“Breathe, darling,” Marlene soothed, rocking gently as she held Hermione close. “It’s alright, I promise. I’ll help you when I feel you close to dropping, as long as you let me. You don’t have to worry so much about it.”
Hermione just nodded, burying her face in the woman’s shoulder and willing herself to stop crying. It took several moments, Marlene silently offering comfort, moving to stroke her hair with one hand as the other held her close. When her tears finally subsided, the woman spoke.
“Let’s get you inside, and I’ll make us both a cup of tea to perk up. Then tomorrow, once you’ve had some good sleep, we can check on Harry and talk about a plan to keep you safe, hm?”
Hermione merely nodded, allowing herself to be led inside to the kitchen. She sat back and let Marlene choose the tea, her head too fuzzy to focus on her choices. She shook her head lightly, deciding that the tears were the reason for the fuzziness, and she would feel better soon.