Chapter Two
Waves of Magic
skyabby
Chapter Two
“Are you new in town? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
Hermione picked out vegetables carefully. “Yeah, I am.”
“We in the Encanto barely get tourists,” the man managing the stall said, looking at her carefully. “Our location, you know.”
“I actually didn’t mean to come here, but it was lucky I did.” Not true. I’d much rather be in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing with Harry and Ron and Ginny and Luna and Neville and everyone else.
“What’s your name?”
Hermione flicked a curl behind her ear. “Hermione.” She spilled coins into her hand and counted out the payment, handing it the man. “Goodbye.”
It seemed like Marie – Mami, Hermione thought, though a pang shot through her heart as the image of her real parents appeared. The parents she would never see again. – had underplayed how unique a new arrival in Encanto was. Eventually she decided to look down and cover her face most of the time.
“So are you going to the Gift Ceremony for little Antonio tomorrow night?”
“Yes, I will,” Hermione said. Not only because not going would attract her unwanted attention, but because it would be her ‘official debut’ as Marie’s daughter. She was privately nervous, wondering if she’d mess up her story or act too modern or something, but she tried not to show it. You are Hermione Granger.
The shopkeeper lowered her voice. “I hope that Antonio will get a gift. You know…after the giftless child.”
“I know.” Mirabel really was treated as a Squib, even among those who didn’t have gifts. A Squib still ostracized by Muggles and wizards alike. “Thanks, adios!”
“Did you get everything?” Marie called as Hermione closed the door behind her.
“Yes,” she said, moving into the kitchen and beginning to organize her purchases. Hermione went back to her room and felt her wand move beneath her fingers – the last, fleeting wisp of a world and time that could well be just memory now.
“Don’t get attention from the Madrigals. Important,” she whispered to herself. “Avis.”
She fell asleep as a bird nibbled on her finger.
Hermione left the house the next day again, even though she didn’t actually need to. She figured it would be good to integrate herself more into the village, and that was the reason she told Marie.
In truth, she just wanted to get out of the house.
She leant against stone in the village square and fingered her wand every few moments. She was uncomfortable in her new dress, a periwinkle blue one that matched the colour of her old Yule Ball dress robes. She was an outsider, and she hoped no one could see through her new skin.
She was a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin.
But even a Gryffindor could prevent a few choice words from slipping out of their lips. A woman she knew to be Señora Julieta stood in the middle of the square and thrust arepas into the injured’s mouths. When Hermione turned, she could see the sign for Isabela’s Flower Garden in the distance.
The sound of giggling made her grip her wand, Bellatrix instantly leaping to the forefront of her mind. She relaxed when she realized that the giggling was coming from children, led by a young woman…who shapeshifted into Julieta and grabbed food from her stall? What?
Hermione took a deep breath, running through the Madrigal family tree. It wasn’t nearly as extensive as the Black one, which she had memorised for fun during the summer holidays at Grimmauld. Alma, Pepa – the weather woman – then Dolores – Umbridge – and Camilo, the shapeshifter. Yes, that was it.
Camilo-Julieta waltzed towards Hermione’s side of the square, and she panicked. No attention from Madrigals, no attention from Madrigals. She was quite sure he wasn’t going for her, but…Hermione turned and raced off, just in case.
It wasn’t until she collapsed behind Marie’s door that she realized she had inadvertently drawn attention to herself.
Oh, joy.
Maybe a Memory Charm would do the trick.
When the time came Hermione donned her dress again and threaded a purple ribbon through her hair. Marie had said that the villagers sometimes dressed up for Gift Ceremonies, and she didn’t want to seem out of place.
Too bad there wasn’t any Sleekeazy’s around.
“You look fine,” Marie said, slapping Hermione’s hand away as it strayed to her hair again. “I’m more worried about you accidentally drawing your wand.”
“Statute of –“ Hermione said, then paused. “Well, this doesn’t really count as a magical place, right? Or does it? Oh, whatever. I have experience hiding my magic.” She smiled brightly, sliding her wand into her sleeve-hidden holster that she had bought during the winter holidays last year. Or…over forty years in the future.
The entire village was flooding towards the Madrigals’ home. Hermione followed the crowd, trying not to lose Marie.
She had to make a good first impression if she didn’t want to be secreted away forever. Good first impression, but nothing too attention-attracting. Got it. She managed to get a spot near the front, which meant that even with her not-that-impressive stature she could look on comfortably.
The villagers fell into silence as Alma Madrigal stepped up.
“Fifty years ago,” she began, and Hermione listened as hard as she could. She wanted to fit in, and with how much this village worshipped the Madrigals, they probably already had Señora Alma’s full speech memorised.
The door shimmered, and Hermione leaned forward.
She found herself wondering if the little boy Antonio could speak to magical animals too. She peeked inside the room and left quickly, trying not to be in anyone’s way. Be inconspicuous. Nothing special.
“Cool, huh?”
Hermione whipped around, her hand on her wand. She really had picked up some of Mad-Eye Moody’s paranoia. A girl with tightly curled dark hair smiled. She was apart from the crowd, as if waiting her turn.
“Very,” Hermione agreed.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Are you new?”
This again. Hermione groaned mentally. “Hermione,” she muttered. “Hermione Granger. I’m Marie Ramírez’s daughter, but I didn’t know about her until a few days ago. Neither did she about me.”
“Nice!” the girl enthused. “So did you get a tour of the town?”
“No, but I know where everything is.” I think.
“I could show you around,” the girl offered.
“Sure,” Hermione agreed immediately, not stopping to think of the pros and cons of this course of action. She paused. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s your name?”
The girl rested her chin on her shoulder. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that.” She stuck out her hand. “Mirabel Madrigal.”
Hermione tilted her head and smiled. “Nice to meet you, Mirabel.”