Harsh Realities and Fearful Truths
A Random Street, Melbourne, Australia, July 24, 1998
“So, who are we meeting today?” Padma asked.
“An acquaintance of a friend.”
“Hermione! That’s vague!” Pansy shouted.
“Shush! Do you know how early it is?” Hermione whispered back.
“Sorry?” Pansy looked at Hermione’s face and snorted. “I’ll be quiet.”
A hand waved at them from a porch on the quiet street.
“Who’s that?”
“Dudley,” Hermione said
“Huh?”
“That’s his name,” Hermione laughed.
“Muggles!” Pansy whispered in an exasperated tone.
The girls walked up the front walk.
“Hi. I’m Dudley.”
“Is your mother home?” Hermione asked.
“No, but she will be back before you leave. I think that some of your information may be vital. Are these your friends?
“Pansy Parkinson and the pleasure is yours.”
“Right, and…”
“Padma Patil. If you ever meet my sister, I’m the calm one.”
“Noted. You’re not multi-liquided, right?”
“Polyjuiced? No.”
“Good.”
“Is he a…?” Padma questioned
“With that style?” Pansy snorted.
“It’s alarming even for muggles. Come in, please. The neighbors are as nosy as my mother once was.”
“She’s not a gossip anymore?”
“Nah, not since Dad died.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“It’s fine. I love him, but we’re better off. Especially if I want to see Harry again.”
“You know Harry?”
“Hermione? You didn’t tell them?”
“It’s not anyone’s business if you don’t want it to be.”
“I’m glad Harry found a friend like you.” Then addressing the other girls, “Harry’s my cousin. My parents raised him as if he was a servant and a nuisance. Hermione’s been catching me up on everything that's been going on in your world. It certainly explains a lot. And I managed to track down the Wilkins.”
“You did!” Hermione quickly hugged Dudley which apparently surprised him. “I can get my parents back! What do you know about them?”
“They’ve taken a sabbatical or something, but they see a few select patients in their home. They’re from England and they get this blank look on their faces whenever you mention kids, or a pet in the last decade.”
“I have a half-wizard world cat,” Hermione answered.
“That’ll explain it. I told them I would stop by soon with a few friends, only if you guys want to. I baked cookies, and I bought some as well. I don’t trust my cooking. Harry’s the only one who ever did it.”
“Harry Potter, cooking?” Pansy asked with a look of disbelief.
“Yeah.”
“Okay then!” Pansy laughed.
“I’ll grab some flowers for my dad. And I saw this wonderful painting of Melbourne, it fits in this frame I have from home. It was the one my mom used to display a painting she made of London. Padma thought it would be a good idea to see if, after I removed the memory blocks, and if their memories don’t return, to trigger some memories, maybe ones without me in them first.”
“That’s sweet. I remember Monica had an easel.”
“Monica? I thought your mom’s name was Quella.”
“It is. Quella and Giles Granger became Monica and Wendell Wilkins.”
“You gave them names and everything.”
“I wish I had known. Maybe we could have kept them safe.”
“Dudley, you’re making up for it now. Even if Harry doesn’t forgive you for his childhood, which I think he will, he will respect you for helping someone you don’t know.”
“Thank you.”
“Dudders, there you are my…” the woman walking in the door started, “Who are these young ladies?”
“Hermione Granger, Padma Patil, and Pansy Parkinson. They’re friends visiting from Britain.”
“Really? I didn’t know you had friends coming.”
“We ran into each other at work.”
“Right,” Petunia said with a forced smile. She disapproved of her son working at such a lowly job, especially one with manual labor.
“Okay, do we like her?”
“She’s right here and can hear you.”
“Who are you?”
“Petunia Dursley!”
“Nee’ Evans,”
“Like Lily Potter nee Evans?"
“That was my sister.”
“And Lily was a…Oh! And after…then…That makes sense. Do they know about everything?”
“The War? Yes. Its extremity? Not a chance. The other stuff at the end of every school year? Nope.”
“Oh, you’re those kind of people,” Petunia said with a sneer.
“You know your nephew fought a war, died, and killed a man who had been slaughtering your sister’s kind for decades. He also had artifacts that would bring him back to life if he died. Your nephew, with the help of another boy, and Hermione here, destroyed all of those artifacts, one being Harry himself! They fought a war against the Monster that killed your sister, and his followers. We’ve all lost a lot of friends. They’ve been tortured, they have scars, mental and physical, we’d be dead without them. We thought your nephew was dead, that the war was won by those horrid people, that we would live in agony and torture for the rest of our lives. And he got back up and won. And has been fighting for the innocents, those forced into fighting for the wrong side, since. This girl right here is still a teenager. Last year she wiped her parents' minds, so that they wouldn’t remember that she ever existed, and sent them across the world so that they wouldn’t be murdered for her actions. I suggested sacrificing Harry, to save everyone’s lives. I know it was wrong, but I was scared for the little kids, for my friends, for my found family! and even for myself. I wanted it over. But afterward, he spoke at my trial to help keep me out of prison. And he’s been a friend to me since. He’s even made a partial friendship with the boy who was his worst childhood enemy. The one who even tried to protect him in the face of death. We have gone through more shit in the past year than the rest of the world will in a lifetime! We are survivors! And you don’t get to judge us or our kind!”
“Oh…Really?
“Do you need to see my scars?” Hermione asked, “I can explain each and every one of them in horrific detail. I can?”
“Dudleykins? Sweetheart?”
“I believe it. Once Hermione’s parents go back to Britain, I plan on transferring back home.”
“Oh.”
“We’re going out. Take as long as you need to process this. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Here’s a stack of the war accounts in the news. And the trial transcripts if you want to understand it better.”
“Bye, Mrs. Dursley!”
“Bye!”
The girls cheerfully skipped out and waited for Dudley on the sidewalk.
“Thanks. I really appreciate you telling me everything. I know it's hard to talk about. Are you ready to meet the Wilkins?”
Hermione nodded.
“Hello Dudley! It’s lovely to see you.”
“Hello, Monica! Hi, Wendell!
“Morning!”
“These are my friends Pansy and Padma. And this is Hermione Granger.”
“Hermione, that’s a lovely name. It’s what we wanted to name our daughter if we ever had one. Hermione Jean.”
“That’s actually my middle name.”
“Really?”
“How do you girls know Dudley?”
“We go to boarding school with his cousin Harry. Hermione is one of Harry’s best friends.”
While they talked, Hermione quickly undid her spell.
“Oh, we have gifts! I brought cookies! I made these abominations and I bought these. I wanted everyone to not get food poisoning with snacks.”
“And Hermione brought these wildflowers!”
“Well, how did you know? These are my favorites!”
“They're resilient and can grow in even the harshest conditions, no matter what they go through, they’re still beautiful. That’s what my dad used to say. I didn’t realize how true that was until recently.”
“My husband says the same thing.”
“And I bought this lovely picture of Melbourne. It’s an old frame, but I thought you would like it.”
“I had one just like this, I think, it was a long time ago. Our cat scratched it up.”
“Your cat?”
“You never mentioned a cat?”
“I seem to remember him now, Crooks.”
“Crookshanks, I think. He was only with us in the summer. He belonged to our…our…I don’t really remember.”
“He was this orange thing. Absolutely ugly…
“In his own beautiful way!”
“Yes. Hermione, do you have a cat?”
“Yeah, this is a picture of him. He’s staying with friends in Britain. While these ladies and I track down some family members.”
“Well, this looks just like Crookshanks. I think we have a very similar picture. In Matilda, I think.”
Wendell brought the book forward, “Here he is.”
“It’s the exact same picture.”
“To my darling Quella, you’re favorite book to give to our daughter, your beloved Giles.”
“Who are Quella and Giles?”
“Us I think? We must have changed our names.”
“Hermione was with us then. She hugged us and ran upstairs crying. And that’s the last thing I remember before moving here.”
“Hermione?”
“Our daughter, we did have one!”
“She was the smartest. I remember her showing us a magic trick when she was 8 or 9. She floated her book, this Matilda here, just like Matilda does in the story.”
“Yes. She loved magic. I remember this woman named Minnie, I think. She came to us, saying that our daughter was brilliant, that she was invited to this special boarding school. We were scared. Especially when she sent a letter to us in November 1991, I think I still have it.”
“Here El,
‘October 31, 1991
Dear Mom and Dad,
I was having a bad day earlier. A boy said something mean. I had been the only student to get a feather to float. I tried to help the boy next to me, but he didn’t want it. I ran off crying in the girls' room. Later there was a ‘drill’ in school. It wasn’t a false alarm. Harry, and Ron, the boy mentioned earlier, came and saved me from the creature. And Ron correctly levitated the club back on the troll. We’re best friends now. But I think that they have horrible study habits. Harry lived in our world. But he lived with his Aunt and Uncle, they aren’t very nice to him. Ron has half a dozen siblings. He has three brothers at school right now. And a sister coming next school year. I’ll write more later. Harry’s telling us about a Death Day party for one of the ghosts.
With love, your daughter, Hermione Jean Granger.’
We didn’t believe all that she said. We quickly learned better!”
“Troll, ghosts, feathers floating! Hogwarts was an interesting place. Probably should have given us a tour!”
“Our daughter was an impressive witch, aren’t you Hermione? HERMIONE!!!!!!”