Chapter 15 - 2001
It had taken Harry the entirety of their journey back to the castle to remember the Headmaster had gone out for the remainder of the afternoon. He conjured his patronus and sent the silvery stag bounding off with a message, telling Dumbledore he and Ron discovered something during their search.
He knew Ron was dead on his feet, and with the daunting task of filling in Hermione’s parents about her disappearance looming over his best friend, Harry suggested he head home to rest for a while. Ron protested at first, a bit unconvincingly.
“I’m fine, mate. Really,” he said, while stifling a large yawn. “Besides, I doubt I could sleep anyway. It’s been fitful at best.” Giving this a thought, Harry suggested he ask Poppy Pomfrey to give him a Calming Draught, just to take the edge off.
“I’ll be here waiting for Dumbledore anyway, I promise I’ll owl you the second there’s any news. Plus, it seems Madam Pomfrey wants to be involved in any way she can, Hermione is her protege afterall.” It took a few more minutes, but Ron finally relented. He made Harry swear two more times he would let him know the moment there were any updates, before he headed out towards the hospital wing, and then home.
Sighing heavily, Harry sat with a thump in the armchair Ron had been occupying when he’d arrived earlier that day.
He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. He thought of how Hermione’s parents were going to react when Ron told them. How Ginny and the rest of the Weasley’s would feel when they find out, if they couldn’t find Hermione soon enough. Harry and Ron wouldn’t be able to keep it to themselves for long.
What was happening? Why did Hermione disappear like that when she touched the stone, and where in Merlin's name did she go? What the devil were those stones, and why couldn’t they see them with the naked eye, as Hermione apparently did?
Harry was unsure how much time had passed while he waited for Dumbledore, but finally the fireplace roared to life and Albus stepped out onto the hearth.
“I came as quickly as I could, what did you find out?” He asked, as he dusted the ash from his robes.
Harry filled him in on what they had seen and explained his idea for the next phase of the plan. “You’re probably the only person who could help me make this happen. I just need some sort of distraction while I run in and activate it. I know this might go against some ethics or something-” he said hesitantly, knowing they were potentially doing much worse than going against personal ethics.
Albus silenced him with a wave of his hand. “Harry, my good lad, I believe I may have the perfect solution for a problem such as this.”
Rushing towards the door to his office and pulling it open, he offered no answer as Harry called after him, “Professor? What is… Wait, where are you going?” He quickly stood up and followed Dumbledore down the staircase.
*****
The Saturday morning following Hermione’s disappearance, Ron found himself standing in front of 8 Heathgate in muggle London, staring down the gravel path leading to the door, with his hands jammed in his trouser pockets.
He had just been here a little less than two months ago; the Granger home. The house that Hermione had grown up in.
He hadn’t wanted to come alone, but he was positively restless and Hermione’s parents deserved to be kept in the loop, even if Ron didn’t have many answers to provide. He swallowed a lump in his throat, and forced himself forward.
The front garden of the home was filled with lush green bushes, trees, and flowers, all in various states of hibernation as it was now November and the weather was turning cold.
“They’re perennials,” Hermione had mentioned of the flowers on one of his first few visits, “Most of these grow back each spring and summer, it’s quite lovely!”
His eyes traveled to the windows of the house, where beautiful white rose bushes lined underneath.
“I picked those out myself,” She said, proudly. “Mum took me to the nursery when I was about six, after I had won the spelling bee at my primary school. Everybody was so proud I won, but the final word was ‘Periodontics’, so I could hardly get THAT incorrect! Mum told me I could pick out anything I wanted for the garden. I thought these would look so pretty up against the brick of the house. I was right, of course.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a brief, sad smile at the memory. His clever girl.
Stepping up to the front door, he raised his fist and knocked. A voice called from somewhere inside. “Be right there!”
Hermione’s mother.
Ron steeled himself with a deep breath as footsteps approached the other side of the door and it swung open as he was greeted with the friendly smile of Helen Granger. She was wiping her hands dry on her apron.
“Ronald, dear! What a surprise!”
She pulled him into a warm, motherly hug. Ron wrapped his arms around her in return, relishing the last moments of normal before he had to bring their world crashing down around them. Helen gripped his shoulders and pulled back as she gestured for him to enter the foyer.
“Come in, come in. The days are getting chillier by the hour, it seems!”
She looked back outside, obviously expecting somebody else to join them.
“Is Hermione with you?” Helen asked.
“Erm, no, Helen. Actually that’s why I’ve come. I need to speak to you and Gerald.”
Helens smile faltered, and Ron had to resist the urge to turn around and run. Secretly he had been hoping that Hermione was already here, angry and venting and needing time away to think. Clearly they hadn’t seen or heard from her if Helen asked if she was with him. He didn’t even know where to begin.
“Oh, of.. of course, I think he’s just round the back, I’ll go and see if I can find him.” Helen stuttered, smoothing her hands over her apron, which Ron recognized as a nervous habit of hers that Hermione sometimes mimicked.
As she turned to head out towards the back garden, Ron felt something rubbing up against his leg. Looking down, he was met with the smushed, orange face of Crookshanks, Hermione’s cat she’d had since their third year. Ron’s heart unexpectedly squeezed in his chest.
The half-cat half-kneazle had been here since they graduated from Hogwarts. Hermione lived at home with her parents while she completed healer training at St. Mungo’s, and the plan was to bring Crookshanks home to Hogsmeade once they were settled.
Ron reached down to gently stroke him on his head. “Your mummy couldn’t be here with us today, mate, but as soon as she’s back, you’re coming home with us, alright?” He whispered to the cat, who simply blinked at him and swished his tail in response.
Righting himself and walking into the sitting room on his left, he glanced up at the photographs that were lining the mantle over the fireplace. There were six framed pictures of Hermione during her muggle schooling years, Ron had seen them before but found himself looking at each of them again.
Hermione’s hair got longer and bushier with each passing year, and Ron couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his throat.
It also still struck him as odd that muggle photos didn’t move.
Just above the mantle hung three large certificates, framed side by side. Two of them were from muggle universities.
Gerald Wesley Granger, LDS
Helen Jean Granger, BDS
The first time he saw them he had no clue what they were. Hermione had to explain to him that muggle schools gave out certificates when you completed certain levels. These were her parents' certificates for becoming dentists.
The third one belonged to Hermione, and it had been a gift from Ron. He had it made for her last Christmas, just before she’d finished her healer training.
“That one’s from me!” Ron exclaimed excitedly as Hermione ripped the paper covered in brightly coloured baubles. A look of confusion crossed her face as she saw the back of the gift, which looked to be something framed.
“Go on then, turn it over!” He could hardly contain himself. He watched her face intently as she carefully turned the gift over, and her brows that had been knit together suddenly shot up to her hairline. With a small gasp, she grinned and looked up at Ron.
“Ronald! How did you do this? I love it!” Hermione lifted and turned the frame so she could show her parents. It read that Hermione Jean Granger had completed her studies as a St. Mungo’s Healer in Training, and was now a fully fledged Healer. It even had the St. Mungo’s healer insignia right in the middle!
Gently placing it aside, she dove over the absolute mess of wrapping paper on the floor, threw her arms around Ron’s neck, and kissed him soundly on the mouth.
“I love it. It’s going right on the wall! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Ron reached his hand up to brush his fingertips along his lips, where he swore he could feel Hermione’s phantom kiss lingering. He was broken out of his reverie when he heard footsteps coming from the back of the house, and turned to see Hermione’s parents come around the corner into the sitting room.
“Hello, lad! Good to see you! What brings you round on this fine Saturday?” Gerald exclaimed, reaching out to shake Ron's hand. Attempting to smile, but fairly certain it came out as an awkward wince, Ron returned the gesture.
“Gerald, good to see you as well. I was wondering if we could have a seat, there’s something I need to talk to both of you about.” Ron said solemnly while attempting to keep the tremble out of his voice.
Helen wrung her hands together, obviously becoming anxious.
“Ronald you’re worrying me dear, is something the matter? Has something happened?”
Holding out his hand towards the sofa, he almost begged, “Please, if we could sit. I’ll explain everything that I can.”
Gerald and Helen glanced nervously at each other, before walking over and sitting down. Ron followed, sitting opposite Hermione’s parents in an armchair. Crookshanks trotted over and jumped up to settle along the top of the chair.
“Erm. Helen, Gerald.” Ron started, willing his voice to remain calm. “There’s really no easy way to say this, but.. yes, something has happened.”
Helen let out a small whimper, reaching for her husband's hand.
“What’s happened, Ronald? Is.. is Hermione alright?”
Ron leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees, his hands clasping together in an effort to quell the rising anxiety. It didn’t help.
“I’m not sure if she’s alright or not, Helen. It’s best I just say this plainly and quickly. Hermione has been missing since Wednesday.”
He could do nothing but hang his head once he said the words. Helen let out a ragged gasp and her hand flew to her mouth. All color drained from Gerald’s face, as he stared at the red headed man in disbelief.
“Missing? Our daughter is missing?”