Hermione leaned back, dropping off of the balls of her feet. She took a breath to center herself and opened her eyes to see Harry’s slightly stunned and dazed expression. If this is how he looked after a simple kiss on the cheek, a proper kiss might’ve broken him. She almost giggled.
The two of them continued to ignore the hustle and bustle of King’s Cross around them, still caught in their little private moment. Hermione felt a need to add… something. The moment called for something else. But what?
“Harry,” she started, ”when you're trapped in that place, please remember that there are people out here that care about you.”
No, that wasn’t quite enough.
“Some of us even love you Harry.”
A flash of silvery white light, eerily similar to Harry’s patronus in color, engulfed them for the briefest of moments. Hermione felt as though she’d been embraced by… well Harry. But it was clearly some sort of magical outburst. How odd.
The flash finally knocked Harry out of his post-kiss stupor.
“What was that?”
“I don’t-”
“Harry”, Professor Lupin called out, “we have to go.”
Hermione sighed, and squeezed Harry’s hand. “I’ll look into it.”
Harry nodded, and started to turn away before stopping. He turned back, looked at Hermione, and then leaned forward and kissed her cheek.
Hermione’s breath hitched, her heart fluttered, and hope and joy flowed into her, filling her up to nearly where she was before Harry’s name came out of that damn goblet.
Harry leaned back and smiled at her dazed expression.
“Harry, we’ve got to go, now.”
Harry sighed, and Hermione squeezed his hand again. “Best be going, Harry.”
And with that, Harry finally turned and walked away from her.
Hermione sighed and looked down at her feet. Harry had kissed her. Her! It was… well frankly, it was far more than she had ever hoped for. She took a moment to bask in the feelings; joy, sorrow, loss, hope, love. God, she had never felt so loved.
She sighed again, and then looked back up. Now, there was a mystery to be solved, and she wasn’t one to wait. What was that flash? And why did she still feel that warm, magical embrace?
She looked around for Ron. Normally, when she or Harry encountered magic they didn’t recognize, it was best to go ask Ron first. About half of the time, it would be something that was really mundane and normal to him. Of course, the other half of the time it tended to be something that was trying to kill them…
Still, it was better to know.
As she scanned the crowd around them, she couldn't find any red hair, and so concluded that the Weasleys must've left already. She did, however, end up locking eyes with one Neville Longbottom, who was staring at her, mouth agape.
Seems like as good a place as any to start.
She walked over to the shy boy, who managed to collect himself somewhat once he realized she was coming to him.
“Neville, do you know what that flash was between me and Harry?”
Neville opened his mouth, closed it, looked pensive for a moment, and then started again.
“Maybe, but… I mean, I don’t think it’s ever happened to two people so young before.”
“What is it, Neville?”
The boy opened his mouth to speak again, but then seemed to spot something over her shoulder, and instead waved to that.
Frowning, Hermione turned around to see a rather grumpy-looking woman with a vulture on her head approach them. She looked like she was scowling.
“Gran, this is Hermione Granger. She’s one of Harry Potter’s best friends.”
The woman, who had now arrived at them, lessened her scowl the tiniest amount and looked down at her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger. Minerva claims you are the brightest of your age.”
Hermione blushed, but inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment. “Yes, it’s nice to meet you too, uh… Madam Longbottom would be correct here, yes?”
Hermione had a vague impression of Neville’s family as traditional and strict, but she didn’t know anything for sure. So she was quite pleased when her attempt at formality garnered a positive reaction from the grumpy Madam.
“Yes, in this case, Madam would be best, though Regent is perhaps applicable.”
“Gran, I just saw Hermione saying goodbye to Harry,” Neville began, “and while they were doing that, there was a silvery flash. I was wondering if that could’ve been the-”
“The Potter family magic? I would think so. Frank saw the late Mr. Potter propose to his wife, and he described the flash as silvery. Are congratulations in order then?”
Hermione could not be more lost if she tried. “Uh…”
Neville looked slightly ill as he realized he was going to have to be the one to explain this.
“Certain old magical families accumulate Family Magic Hermione.” He said. “And when that magic recognizes a member’s significant other as now being part of the family, there’s a flash as it accepts them. Usually, you see it when a noble witch or wizard says yes to a proposal for marriage.”
Hermione’s head was spinning. Harry. Her. Family, Marriage. “What!”
“Not always though.” Madam Longbottom interjected calmly, seeming to recognize now that Hermione had not, in fact, been proposed to. “The Longbottom family magic didn’t accept me until your father was born, Neville. On the other hand, it accepted Uncle Alfie’s wife the very first time they kissed, much to everyone's annoyance. Magic can be fickle.”
Hermione took a deep breath. Ok. Ok. She could think through this.
“So, you two think that me and Harry’s conversation as we said goodbye was enough for the Potter family magic to... to accept me as his wife?”
Neville hesitated. “What were you talking about right when it happened?”
“I-” Hermione thought back, and then her eyes widened. “I kind of intimated that I love him.”
Madam Longbottom nodded. “In principle, that would be enough, so long as he felt the same.”
“Harry-” She stopped herself. Could Harry really love her?
“Do you still feel the magic?” Madam Longbottom asked.
Subconsciously, Hermione rubbed the spots under her arms where Harry’s arms usually went when they hugged. It felt like they were there now. “Yeah, I can feel something.”
There was a long moment of quiet as Hermione processed.
Harry was, without any room for doubt, the most important man in her life. At this point, she should say with great confidence that not even her father came close. So Hermione had, of course, thought about marrying Harry one day. Getting a cottage together somewhere, and raising 2 and a half kids. After dropping those kids at school, she’d go off to the Ministry, or a lab, or Hogwarts for work, and he’d go off to quidditch practice. Then that night, they’d come home, put the kids to bed, and snuggle together in bed reading. It was a nice fantasy.
But Harry had never shown any interest in girls, other than Cho of course, but well… Hermione had encouraged Harry’s affection for Cho, but she had also assumed it wasn’t going anywhere. First crushes tended to not go anywhere. Her first crush had been on a boy in primary school, and this was probably the first time she’d thought of him since the Troll had shifted her attention toward Harry.
So, assuming Cho really was just a first crush, Harry had never shown any interest in girls. Which made this all the more vexing. Were she and his magic forcing this on him?
Actually, perhaps it was better to first figure out if she wanted this, before she started worrying about whether or not Harry did. Get her own house in order first and all that.
She loved him. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind about that. It was a question of how she loved him. Romantic love was certainly on the table, but… well, Hermione had never had a sibling, so it was really hard for her to know what having a close sibling would feel like. But sometimes, she thought she felt that way about Harry.
Ok, so not much progress that way either. On what front could she make progress?
…
“Is there something I can do to be absolutely sure?”
“When this happened to Alfie,” Madam Longbottom said, with a world-weary sigh, “we eventually decided to have his girl go to Gringotts and request a new vault key. To give you another vault key, Gringotts has to magically verify your identity. They, quite unfortunately for us, identified her as Mrs. Longbottom.”
Neville jumped in here, realizing that Hermione needed to understand the why of everything.
“The family magic recognizing you effectively makes you magically married to Harry, but not legally. So the Ministry and the Hogwarts staff won’t recognize the marriage, but Magical creatures like House Elves and Postal Owls will, as will magical forms of identification.”
Hermione let that sink in for a moment, and then nodded. “Ok. Go to Gringotts and check. I can do that.”
She turned to them, and almost smiled. “Thank you for sharing your knowledge on this matter Madam Longbottom, Neville.”
“Of course dear.”
“No problem Hermione. And-” Neville started to say, before hesitating. After just a moment though, he seemed to rally his courage. “Don’t go crazy wondering what Harry will think. I really do think he feels that way about you. You’ll be fine”
Hermione blushed heavily. What was it that Neville saw that she didn’t?
“Thank you, Neville.”
Hermione turned away, moving off into the crowd to find her parents. They had a stop to make before they left London, so they needed to hurry.
++++++
“I’d like a new vault key please.”
The Goblin teller huffed. “What happened to your last one?”
Uh… “I misplaced it?”
The goblin sighed. “Please place your hand on the crystal.” He said, gesturing to a baseball-sized crystal ball he had just pulled up from under the counter.
“Do not be alarmed when you feel it draining your magic.” He continued in a monotone drone. “That just means the identification crystal is doing its job. Do not place your hand on the crystal if you are already magically exhausted or near magically exhausted. Do not place your hand on the crystal if you have a medical condition which prevent you from replenishing your magic. Gringotts Bank is not liable for any harm that may come to you from touching the identification crystal.”
Hermione blinked, then nodded, and reached out to touch the crystal. Immediately, she gasped, as the crystal began to siphon off some of her magic for identification. It felt as if she was rapidly bleeding, but instead of bleeding blood, she was bleeding her soul.
“That’s enough.” He droned, yanking the crystal away from her. The Teller stared at the orb for several moments, before looking back up at Hermione.
Her breath hitched.
“Lady Potter?”
Jesus Christ.
…
“You are Lady Potter, correct?”
Hermione almost couldn’t breathe. She could just barely think. Lady Potter. The Goblin, the crystal, and at least some part of magic itself saw her as Lady Potter. As… well, as Harry’s wife.
“Ma’am?”
Hermione refocused her gaze on the aggravated goblin Teller. “Apologies. You’re the first person to have called me by that name, and I wasn’t quite prepared for it.”
The mere goblin huffed in response, though it seemed to be out of amusement more than annoyance.
“Yes, I suppose I am Lady Potter.”
The goblin smiled a wide, predatory smile.
“Well then Lady Potter, I guess we can give you all the bank notices and messages your new Husband has been ignoring.”
Uh-oh.
++++++
Hermione, her parents trailing behind her, left the Bank with a new key to Harry’s vault, and a folder with about 80 sheets of parchment in it. Only the goblins could turn marriage into an opportunity to drown you in paperwork. She was heading back down the alley, deep enough in thought to outright miss the many questions her parents were asking.
Books! She needed books on family magic. They’d already passed Flourish and Blotts, so she stopped, turned 180 degrees around, and walked back the way she’d come, right between her quite aggravated parents.
The bell jiggled as she entered the shop, but she didn’t stop for a second, walking down the front of the shop and looking down the rows. Arithmancy, Charms, Care, History, Professor McGonagall, Herbolo… wait, Professor McGonagall?
Hermione walked back a row and found that her favorite Professor was in fact in the History aisle, looking over a tome.
“Professor?”
McGonagall turned towards her, and offered a small smile once she identified her.
“Miss Granger. I thought you would be on your way back to Hampstead by now.”
“So did we.” Hermione’s Father said, as he and her Mother finally caught up. Hermione blushed.
“Sorry Dad, but something happened on the platform with Harry and I, and I needed to go to Gringotts to confirm it. And now that I have confirmed it, I need a book on it so I can learn about it.”
“And what exactly is it that happened?” Her, now quite exasperated, father asked.
Hermione froze. She hadn’t even thought about explaining this to her father. “Uh…”
She needed help. “Professor, do you know what happened with Alfie Longbottom and his wife, back before she was legally his wife?”
Minerva McGonagall cocked her head just slightly, before her eyes widened. “Oh my.”
“Yeah, I know.” Hermione chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. “Professor, one of your jobs is explaining magic to muggles. With your expertise, how do you think I should go about explaining this to my parents?”
“We’re right here.” Hermione’s Father tried to interject. The Professor took a deep breath.
“Well,” McGonagall began, “the first thing you should do is tell your Father that it’s a ‘womanly issue’. That will send him running for the hills, which is for the best really because the truth would just upset him. Your Mom will go along with it because she’ll know that’s true.”
“She’s right dear.” Hermione’s Mother informed her, despite not even knowing what this was all about.
“I’m RIGHT HERE.” Her Dad tried again, only to be ignored by all three women this time.
“Then,” McGonagall continued, “us women should go talk in private, and we’ll just try to calmly explain it. A private room at the Leaky perhaps?”
++++++
Hermione’s father was left at the Bar, while Hermione, her Mother Emma, and Professor McGonagall went up to a room they’d rented for an hour.
10 minutes in, her Mom was no longer panicking, and fully understood that this was something that had happened, rather than something that was done.
“You should understand Dr. Granger, they’re absolutely not married, at least as far as humans are concerned. The only real change is that magical creatures will refer to them as if they are.”
“Professor, if that’s the case, then what’s that folder of documents that my daughter is carrying?”
Hermione blushed. “The goblins own and operate the only bank in magical Britain, and they are magical creatures. They gave me full access to Harry’s vaults, and asked me to hand deliver a bunch of statements, and offered to combine all of both of our accounts into the main Potter vault.”
“Oh, so the only change is how some creatures refer to you and, ya know, your finances!”
McGonagall and Hermione winced. “Yes?” Hermione offered.
Emma huffed.
“Mom, I trust Harry absolutely. I don’t mind at all if we share money. I’m more worried about how he’ll feel about all of this.”
“And how do you feel about this Miss Granger?”
Hermione paused. “I’m still not sure. I’m… wary, and worried, but… I can’t quite find it in me to be unhappy.” She paused again. “The family magic, the way it sits on me, it’s like Harry has been hugging me constantly all day.” She smiled a little. “It’s like he’s always with me.”
Hermione looked up and saw her Professor smiling softly, and her Mom looked slightly astonished. “You actually love this boy, don’t you?”
Hermione smiled a little wider, even as she blushed.
“Yes. I’m not absolutely positive what sort of love it is, but it’s definitely love.”
Her Mom looked at her for another several moments, then sighed deeply.
“Your Father cannot know about this. He will go off his rocker.”