Chapter Three
Waves of Magic
skyabby
Chapter Three
There were cracks in the Casa Madrigal.
Everyone was inside Antonio's new room, but Hermione could see them. They appeared so suddenly, and she stumbled.
"Hermione?"
"Mirabel," Hermione said slowly, keeping an eye on the cracks. "Tell me, um, is there something weird going on?" Great. Now she sounded like a creep.
"The cracks," Mirabel whispered. "You can see them? The cracks!" she yelled, hurriedly clamping a hand over her own mouth. "We've got to tell Abuela!"
A villager waltzed out, humming cheerily. They didn't look at the cracks, just spun out of the entrance and twirled back to the village.
"They can't see the cracks," Hermione said. "Your Abuela will probably think you're crazy."
"She's the head of my family! She deserves to know!" Mirabel nearly dived to cover the cracks as a family of three walked out. "Even if she thinks I'm crazy!"
"But when something worse happens, she won't believe you. Build up a little – a lot of goodwill towards her. Which you probably already have." Hermione gave a nervous laugh. "Save it for when something really big happens, like she's in the village and the Casa breaks or something."
"They need to know, Hermione!" Mirabel's features hardened. "I don't need your approval to do things."
Hermione swallowed. For some reason, she knew something was going to happen to the Casa Madrigal, as well as she knew that Harry was going to face danger every year. "Mirabel," she tried one more time, ready to give her up as a lost cause…for a day or two before she figured something out.
"No." Mirabel crossed her arms. "I'm going."
Hermione turned on her heel and headed home. She wasn't turning into a Trelawney, right? She knew Marie wouldn't mind as long as she didn't use magic in front of other people. She shut the door behind her and walked into the nearest washroom, tracing her features. She tilted her head.
She wondered if she'd change by the time she went back to her normal time. Yep, that's it, Hermione. Confidence. You'll get back eventually.
She missed her parents and friends too much now. They were an ache in her chest that wouldn't be filled until later…much later, if she didn't get back to her own time.
Hermione steeled herself.
Hello, Department of Mysteries,
My name is Hermione Granger. I live in Colombia, but I am a British witch from the year 1996, more specifically 18 June 1996.
The streets of Encanto bustled with people. Hermione spun her way through, smiling and trying to seem like she was happy. (She wasn't.) Her basket was stuffed to the brim and she was sure it would leave an indent in her skin.
Maybe it was just being to an entirely new place, but Hermione found herself ready to draw her wand on a moment's notice. She should replace that with a knife or something, but she didn't know what someone who wasn't in on the secret would do if they found a knife up her arm. A stick, however…it was one of the reasons wands and brooms were the easiest to conceal from Muggles. (If the person in question had self-control, that was.)
"Hermione!"
"Mirabel," Hermione greeted with a tip of her head. "Hola."
"Where are you going?"
"Oh, I was just about to head home. You?"
"I was going to buy some more fabric." She smiled. "I like making clothes. It's my hobby, since, you know…"
Hermione glanced at the mural. In it, Mirabel stood to the side, connected to her family but not at the same time. "Yeah. I know."
"So I guess I can do the tour I owe you later! Adios!"
"You think I care about the tour anymore?" Hermione muttered to herself. She hummed her way back to Marie's cottage.
"New mission," she said to herself as she opened the door. "Find out what's happening in the Casa Madrigal, and, you know," She closed the door. "fix it. I need a plan. Parchment, quill –"
"Hermione? What?" Marie frowned. Hermione jumped up and began shaking her head.
"Nothing, I'm just a little tired today, so yeah! I'll organize the purchases in a bit, okay, bye!" She zipped up the stairs and sighed to herself as she reached the room.
It sure was a relief to know that Dolores Madrigal couldn't hear anything she said or did because of the modified Silencing Charm on the cottage.
Magic truly was wonderful…at times.
"I never meant this to get autobiographical –"
"You were writing your accidental autobiography?" Hermione laughed awkwardly, trying not to seem too weird.
"Oh." Mirabel blinked. "I was just humming."
"Cool. Did you write the song?" Hermione had taken numerous music lessons in her youth and still – up until she accidentally arrived in 1950's Colombia – was a violinist. She liked music, but academics was her passion.
"Yeah." Mirabel grinned. "It's about my family. Well, the line you heard me do is like a backup in case the kids asking about us are really persistent. Which they are. And if they try to chase me around time. Which happens most of the time."
"Do you like kids?"
"Yeah, absolutely! They're so cute and fun to be around, plus if they get too annoying they're easy to handle. I wish I got more experiencing babysitting my sisters and cousins, but the only cousin younger than me is Antonio. I'm still considered the baby of the family sometimes."
"I was the oldest one in my friend group," said Hermione with a laugh. "At school. My birthday is not long after the cut-off date, so I wasn't even a month away from getting into the year above."
"Did you feel old?" Mirabel said, then clapped a hand over her month like she was afraid that Hermione would react negatively.
Trying to soothe the girl, Hermione snorted. "Well, yes. Sometimes. There were times when they behaved so childishly and I wasn't sure if they were really their ages. De-Aging Potions, you know."
Mirabel frowned. "De-Aging Potions?"
Crap. Crap. Crap. Hermione's chest tightened as she kept a finger on her wand. Memory Charm, ready? Obliviate. That was the incantation. She could do it, even if it was her first time.
She always got spells right on her first try in class.
"Forget I said anything. Accident. Just slipped out – I think it's from one of the novels I like to read or something," Hermione said, attempting to seem natural.
Mirabel's eyes narrowed.