Richard Granger gaped as the living room lights flickered in unison with his toddler daughter’s shrieks.
“No! No! No!” she howled, tears forming in her amber eyes. “No bedtime. More Story.” Before he knew it, the book he’d placed on the top shelf of the bookcase was once again in her hands. The light show concluded; Hermione’s cries turned to babbling as she happily read to herself.
Richard dropped onto the sofa, eyes wide and mind whirling a mile a minute. Had...had her hair been sparking? He rubbed at his eyes, grateful that his wife was out with her friends for the evening and unable to see his descent into madness. After a moment, he glanced back at his beautiful little girl, his treasure, who was still paging through the book of fairy tales meant for a child much older than herself.
“Hermione, sweetheart, can you tell daddy how you got that book?” he asked gently.
“Want book,” she replied, without looking up. “No bedtime. Read more.”
“I know you wanted the book, but how did you get it? Daddy put it way up on the bookshelf over there.” He pointed over to the far wall, which was lined with bookshelves made from cherry wood from floor to ceiling.
“Want book. Got book,” she said, before finally meeting his eyes. “Read this one, daddy?”
He blew out a breath. “Okay, sweetheart, but we’ll read this one in bed.” Her face crumpled as she prepared for another tantrum, but Richard was no fool. She may be a toddler, but she was smart. Very smart. “Hermione Jane Granger,” he began, “you will get one story while in bed, or no stories while in bed. Either way, you are going to bed.” He scooped both her and the book off the floor and headed up the stairs toward her bedroom.
She placed her tiny hands on each cheek, and he worried that the new beard growth might scratch her delicate palms. Looking guilelessly into his eyes, she said, “One story, please, daddy.”
He chuckled to himself. She had him wrapped around her wee fingers. “Of course, princess, but then right to bed. Tomorrow is another day.”
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After the story and the rest of her bedtime routine had been completed, Richard left Hermione in her room and headed to his study. He poured two fingers of scotch from the decanter on the sideboard into a glass and gulped it down. Sparks. Had he actually seen sparks? Pouring another two fingers into the glass, he made to exit the room, when a flash of color caught his eye.
A large cream-colored envelope sat on leather desktop. Richard shook his head at the sight. He had been working in this very room only a few hours ago and there had been no envelope. How did it get there? Was someone in the house? HIs heart froze. Hermione!
He ran up the stairs and checked on Hermione. She was sleeping soundly, clutching her stuffed doggy to her chest, with her riotous curls spread across the pillow. Turning, he raced back to check all the windows and doors on the first floor were locked. He cursed as he ran. Why was this house so bloody big again? Chest heaving, he returned to the study, almost hoping that the cream envelope was only a figment of his imagination.
But no. There it was.
Richard steeled himself and walked to the desk.
There was no writing on either side of the outside of the envelope. It was sealed with red wax imprinted with what appeared to be a D and a G. Tentatively, he broke the seal, pulling out the soft velvety paper inside. Written in thin spidery letters, in a nauseating shade of green ink was the strangest letter,
To my descendent. If you are reading this, then today your child has done something extraordinary. They have performed their first accidental magic. As I pen this letter, I am not certain how many generations will pass before magic returns to our family line, but I am confident that someday it will. So, it is with this certainty that I have put several measures into place to educate and protect your child and the future of our family. All of these are non-negotiable and enforceable by magic.
A charm was set to trace the first accidental magic in our family line and deliver this letter to you. Another charm notified several parties when the envelope was opened, including the family’s solicitor and Gringotts Bank.
A trust account has been set aside for their magical education. This will include the premier school Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry where they start at age eleven and any tutors you may want to hire.
Upon my death, our family homes will be placed in stasis and will be available for you to live in while raising your child, my heir. Gringotts will have a list of these properties for you to peruse.
Finally, a betrothal agreement has been agreed to and approved by magic. A copy is located at Gringotts and with the family solicitors. My heir is betrothed to the Potter Heir as agreed between myself and Fleamont Potter. When the envelope was opened, notification was also sent to the current head of the Potter Family to inform them that magic has again graced our family line. I am sure he will be contacting you.
This is truly a glorious day, may magic always bless you.
Hector Dagworth-Granger
Founder
Most Extraordinary Society for Potioneers
Richard let the letter fall to the desk top before collapsing into the chair. Slamming the remains of his drink, he dropped his head in his hands. After a few minutes, he pulled the letter closer and reread it. Was any of this even possible? He flashed back to his questions from earlier. The sparks, The book. Yes, it seemed like this was very possible. But... his baby girl betrothed? He groaned, How was he going to tell Carol when she returned home?
Fin