A/N: I do not own any character references by JK Rowling in the Harry Potter series or agree with her comments. This story is a product of my pure imagination. I do not profit from this and will not pay for any commissions for art about this story.
Never break a sweat for the other guys.
When you come around, I get paralyzed,
And every time I try to be myself.
It comes out wrong like a cry for help.
It's just not fair,
Pain's more trouble than love is worth.
I gasp for air,
It feels so good, but you know it hurts.
But you make me wanna act like a girl.
Paint my nails and wear perfume for you.
Make me so nervous that I just can't hold your hand.
You make me glow,
But I cover up, won't let it show.
So I'm putting my defenses up,
'Cause I don't wanna fall in love.
If I ever did that, I think I'd have a heart attack.
I think I'd have a heart attack.
I think I'd have a heart attack.
~ Heart Attack by Demi Lovato
~*~ 12th August 2003 ~*~
Hermione sat in the passenger seat as the countryside expanded around them. Normandy was a beautiful area in the afternoon sun, making everything appear golden. Field rolled past them, nothing like the tidy, crowded farms of England. Briar Rose slowed and flicked on the turn signal as she pulled off onto the main road with the school that Hermione barely remembered.
After five more minutes, the fields grew larger and more sprawling as Briar Rose flicked on the turn signal again, and an aging sign appeared standing at the end of the dirt lane.
Wilkins I'Equitation Centre
Centre d'hébergement et de formation
Hermione's chest tightened as she looked out at what had once been expansive paddocks that had been training grounds for prized horses. They were now wild with grass and neglect, turning into blooming, wildflower-filled areas. This was where she learned to ride, her legs too short for the stirrups, her grandfather's steady hands guiding her. He had been a prized racehorse owner, respected and admired by everyone who had met him. He had been the kind of man who carried a family by the sheer force of his presence.
Until he fell. Thrown by his own horse. A cracked skull and massive brain bleed had been his ending by the time someone had found him.
After that, everything had unravelled. Her grandmother had sold off his horses. What fractures that had always been there within the family widened into splits that only her mother had tried to mend.
Her grandmother still boarded other people's horses, and she could see that the paddocks closer to the barns were better maintained, but the property was no longer as alive as it had once been.
Briar Rose pulled her car into the small gravel lot beside the house and turned off the car. As if on cue, they both took a breath and sat for a moment. "There is only one car," Briar Rose said quietly. "I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing."
Hermione didn't answer as she and Briar Rose climbed out of the car, only for the front door to open.
"Thank goodness," Briar Rose said as she shut the door and walked over to Hermione's favourite aunt and wrapped her sister in a hug. "I was afraid it would be Celine or Genevieve."
Chloe laughed, rubbing her back. "No, just me. Well," she leaned back, her gaze landing on Hermione. "Oh, Darling. Hello Hermione, it is such a pleasure to see you."
Hermione returned the hug as well as the customary air kisses. "You as well."
Chloe held her at arm's length, smiling. "Let me look at you all grown. Oh, darling, you are absolutely gorgeous." She glanced at Briar Rose with a wink. "Where did she get her looks from?"
Briar Rose rolled her eyes. "How is Maman?"
Chloe's smile faded as she shook her head. "No change. There's fluid in her lungs. The medications have helped a bit, so they were thinking of removing intubation in the morning."
"Congestive heart failure?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself.
Both women turned to her, surprised.
Hermione blushed. "Harry has books," she said, biting her lip. "When I can't sleep, I read," she looked at her Aunt Chloe. "My boyfriend is a doctor."
Chloe nodded, "That explains it." She waved them inside. "It's just us for now. I refused to drive all the way back home to Belgium, seeing as we are the traitors who abandoned Lady France." She winked at Hermione. "I had the maid prepare your old room, Eglantine. Hermione, dear, you'll be in the guest room. You must both be exhausted. Dinner is nearly ready, if you are up for it."
"Thank you," Hermione said, following her mother up the marble staircase.
The house hadn't changed. Same polished, cold floors, same old French artwork, mostly copies of Renoirs and Monets. When Briar Rose pointed her toward the guest room, Hermione went inside and dropped her suitcase onto the bed. She sat down and looked around. "I forgot how pretentious this place was."
Briar Rose leaned against the doorframe. "Now that you are older, you can understand why I left." She shook her head. "I couldn't live like this. The parties, the coldness, and the image to maintain. The pressure to find a husband to be a perfect wife. I would have lost who I was. I broke the status quo by leaving France for England to further my education. Maman had her garden parties and debutante balls, which just suffocated me." She sighed, "I wanted to become my own person, and they couldn't accept that. Heaven forbid that I wanted to work. I am sorry that I distanced you from all this, but I wanted you to be an independent thinker too."
Hermione shook her head, "We have a great life, Mum. Don't feel bad. Go settle in and clean up. I'm going to do the same."
"I'm two doors down on the left," Briar Rose told her, walking back out into the hallway.
Walking to a door, Hermione tried it and found a large walk-in closet. "So unnecessary for a guest room." Going to the next door, Hermione finally found the bathroom. Flicking on the light, she looked at her reflection. Turning on the faucet, she splashed some water on her face. Drying her hands, she pulled her mobile from her jeans and stepped out to the window to see that it overlooked the barns.
The call connected on the second ring. "Finally made it?" Harry's voice came through.
"Yes," Hermione sighed, taking in the ivy that crept along the stone walls outside. "I haven't been here since before Hogwarts. It reminds me a bit of your grandparents' estate. Like this place is frozen in time, it's exactly how I remember it, but also… neglected. Overgrown and wild."
"Have you heard how she's doing?" Harry asked. In the background, Hermione heard him murmur something to Rosella about keeping paint off the carpet.
"Aunt Chloe is here," Hermione told him, curling up in the window. "She is the good aunt, thankfully. She said the medication is working for now, so… here's hoping." She paused. "Mum said she's been getting worse since she and Dad returned. Whatever recovery there is, it will be short-lived, no matter what."
"I'm sorry, Hermione."
She swallowed. "How are things there?"
Harry paused, "Well, Rosella convinced me that the living room needed to become a castle. She asked me to call Ron and get whatever extra crates that they had, and she is currently building the castle after painting it earlier. She wants to add glitter paint now, and I told her no, I don't want to ruin the carpet."
Hermione smiled. "Thanks for holding down the fort, or should I say castle."
"I don't want you to worry. I've got things covered here. You just worry about your Mum and yourself. It sounds like this brought back more memories than you thought it would," Harry told her.
Hermione sighed, "I'm just afraid of what tomorrow holds. My two aunts have no love for Mum. I haven't seen either of them since my grandfather's funeral."
"Call me whenever you need to, even if it's just to complain about your relatives. I have no experience in that," Harry told her.
She laughed softly. "They aren't quite to the level of the Dursleys at just being awful. I hate to compare the two, but more Malfoys."
"Sounds like some people I wouldn't like," Harry said as she heard a crash, "You are good, just rebuild it."
She heard Rosella huff. "When is Mumma coming back?"
Hermione's chest tightened. "Tell her soon. As soon as I can."
"I will," He paused. "Try to get some rest tonight. You had a long drive, and tomorrow is going to be a longer day."
"Thank you for being you," Hermione whispered, resting her head on the warm glass.
"Always," he told her.
Hermione hung up and stayed at the window for a few minutes, watching as the shadows slowly stretched over the land. She jumped as her Aunt Chloe tapped on the doorframe.
"Sorry, darling, I didn't mean to scare you," Chloe said with a soft smile. "Are you hungry? Your mother sent me up for you."
"Starving," Hermione admitted as she stood.
Chloe nudged her playfully as they stepped into the hall, "So, is there someone special in your life? Briar told me about your daughter. Congratulations."
"Thank you, she's… amazing," Hermione smiled, "Her father and I have recently gotten back together." She hesitated for a moment, "He was with Doctors Without Borders for a while. We were so young when she was born that we weren't ready for a long-term thing. He has returned home for good and will be starting at a hospital in London at the beginning of the month."
Chloe stopped at the top of the stairs. "Are you happy?"
Hermione nodded, "Very. If he asked me to marry him tomorrow, I would."
Chloe smiled, "Listen to your heart, if it tells you to do so, do it. That is why I ran off to Belgium. My Vincent made me happy. My heart sang, and I knew I had to be with him without question. Does he support you?"
"Wholeheartedly. He inherited some money through his grandparents, and the first thing he asked was if I wanted to expand my store," Hermione told her. "He is very supportive."
Chloe stopped at the bottom of the stairs, "Your store? Your mum mentioned you work at a bookstore, but I didn't realize it was your bookstore."
Hermione nodded as she followed Chloe through the house, "It's called the Lily Pad. Rosella is named after a Lily. Her full name is Rosella Lily. After she was born, I was young and needed a job, so I started working in this little bookshop. The couple that owned it were like grandparents while Mum and Dad were in Australia. When they decided to retire, he sold the store to me for far less than it was worth. Thanks to two of my friends who own their own business, they invested in the store so I could improve it, and now it's gone from a simple bookshop to a café, pet adoption centre, and we've created a little community."
Chloe looked at her, "Where is this located?"
"Denmark Street off Charing Cross Road in London. We are near the theatre district, so we are lucky to get a good amount of foot traffic," Hermione told her as they entered the kitchen.
Briar Rose looked up as they entered. "Chloe, if you come to London, you need to visit it. When we returned from Australia, I couldn't believe how wonderful her store had become. The mural upstairs in the children's section looks like a Lily Pad pond, and the children curl up with a book on these little bean bags like lily pads."
The maid appeared quietly, setting plates before them. "Merci," Hermione said with a polite smile.
She looked down at the fish pasta dish, so beautifully arranged, and felt an ache in her chest. Somewhere across the English Channel, Harry and Rosella were finishing up dinner. Tonight was supposed to be Chinese. Harry was probably negotiating with Rosella to get ready for bed. With a sigh, she picked up her fork and glanced over at her mother, and reminded herself that she was here for her as she dug into her past.
~*~ 12th August 2003 ~*~
Stepping out of the car at the hospital the next morning, Hermione adjusted her phone between her shoulder and ear as she watched Aunt Chloe exit her own car next to them.
"Be nice to Zoey, even if she doesn't share," Hermione told her nicely, "And if you need help, remember to go straight to Miss Bailey, all right?"
Rosella replied muffled as if she had set Harry's phone down on the floor and sat on it. Something rustled, and Harry's voice followed. "All right, Rose, shoes on. It's time to go."
"I love you," Hermione said, "Tell daddy that I'll call him-"
The line went dead, and Hermione stared at her phone. "She hung up on me."
Briar Rose laughed as she locked the car. "Welcome to the other side of a Rosella phone call."
"She sounds adorable," Chloe said as they crossed the car park.
"She's… something alright," Hermione chuckled, "More a teenager trapped in a five-year-old's body."
The automatic door opened, and the smell of disinfectant replaced the morning air.
"This way," Chloe said, leading toward a familiar corridor.
Hermione laced her arm through her mother's, grounding herself as they walked. The lift ride felt too quiet, the hum of the cables loud in Hermione's ears. When the doors opened, she spotted her Aunt Celine speaking quietly with a man near the nurses' station.
Chloe grinned, "Leo! You made it."
Hermione blinked in surprise as her cousin turned. He looked older than she remembered, taller and broader, with faint lines of middle age.
Celine turned to look at them. "Oh, Eglantine, you're here." Her eyes swept over Hermione. "I wasn't sure if you'd be able to make it."
Briar Rose stiffened, and Hermione squeezed her hand before her mother stepped forward and hugged her sister. "Hermione drove me."
Celine looked Hermione up and down. "This is Hermione?"
Hermione smiled politely. "Hello, Aunt Celine."
Celine glanced at Leo. "I don't know if you remember your cousin, Leo. It's been years. You went to boarding school, didn't you? For gifted children, correct?"
"Yes," Briar Rose said coolly, "How is Maman?"
Celine hesitated for a moment. "They're attempting to remove the intubation now. If all goes well, we can see her shortly."
Sharp clicking of heels echoed down the corridor.
"We'll need a string quartet," Guinevere announced as she approached, her phone pressed to her ear. "Mother will want roses. Her favourites. Make it happen."
She slid her phone into her purse and looked directly at Briar Rose. "Well, nice of you to join us in France. It must have been such an ordeal for you to come."
"No," Briar Rose said calmly. "It was a lovely drive. How are you, Gwen?"
"Busy," Guinevere said, "Managing the responsibilities of Mother's estate." Her gaze swept over Hermione. "And who is this?"
"Gwen," Chloe said, "This is Hermione, your niece."
Guinevere paused, then smiled professionally. "Hard to recognize her. I haven't seen her since she was eight or nine." Her phone rang again. "Excuse me."
Leo exhaled as she walked away. "She keeps talking like Mimi is already gone. Wills, taxes, what things are valued."
Chloe shook her head, "Her time may be limited with us, but she is still here. Gwen has had a hard time realizing that since our father died." As a nurse came over, "Be right back."
Leo turned to Hermione, "I'm sorry, I don't remember much about you. You're quite a bit younger than me, yes?"
"I'm twenty-three," Hermione told him.
He blinked, surprised. "My son is twenty, that's just astonishing to me. What do you do?"
"She owns a bookstore," Chloe said, proudly walking back over to them.
Leo looked at her, intrigued. "In Paris?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, London. Denmark Street near Charing Cross."
He nodded, impressed. "I am in real estate. That is a prime location. Very impressive."
Before Hermione could respond, Celine returned. "We can see her now. Two at a time. Guinevere is inside right now."
Together, they moved down the corridor toward a private room. Leo excused himself to make a call, while Hermione sat down in an empty chair next to her mother.
Guinevere exited the room first, followed by someone who Hermione thought resembled an older and huskier version of her uncle. Celine went inside next with Leo.
Guinevere turned towards her and Briar Rose, "So Briar Rose, appearing at last."
Chloe stepped in. "That's enough, Guinevere."
Guinevere's eyes looked at Hermione, "Are you still in school, dear?"
"No," Hermione said calmly, "I own my own bookstore."
Guinevere stared at her. "How quaint."
Celine exited, wiping her eyes, "Your turn. She responded to my touch."
Briar Rose stood and took Hermione's arm. "Come on, sweetheart."
Inside, the machines hummed as a nurse adjusted the IV as Briar Rose moved to the bedside, taking her mother's hand.
"She's waking," the nurse warned. "She may be in pain. I will be back shortly."
Briar Rose nodded, rubbing her hand. "Maman?"
Aimee Wilkins stirred. "My sweet Rose. My beautiful, sweet Rose. You are home. I am so happy. I missed you so much."
Briar Rose kissed her hand, "I am sorry, Maman."
"Don't be, you had to protect…Hermione… mi amor?" Aimee said as she saw her.
Hermione's heart pounded as she stepped forward. "I'm here, Grandmaman."
Aimee's eyes fluttered open wider. "You've grown so beautiful."
"Thank you," Hermione whispered.
Aimee stared at her. "You were in a war, weren't you? And you survived. Like a fighter you are."
Briar Rose froze. "Maman, I never told you about any war."
Aimee frowned. "Perhaps I remembered wrong, but there are stories. Stories that my mother told me, that her mother, and her mother before her, told her. Of Merlin and Viviane." Hermione met her gaze. "We are descended from her, Viviane of Broceliande, and her affair with Merlin. Magic left and returned to us when it was earned and deemed worthy after she furthered the family through the Pendragon line."
Hermione's breath caught.
"You could be the best of us," Aimee murmured.
"I…" Hermione swallowed, "Thank you, Mimi, for telling me this. I love you, and I just need a moment." She pressed a kiss to her grandmother's forehead.
"Fear not, my darling, it was never my time, but it is yours," Aimee stated.
Hermione fled the room to the end of the corridor, pressing her forehead against the cool glass as her grandmother's words echoed in her head.
"She's fallen back asleep. She said she loves us, and she is sorry if she scared you," Briar Rose told her, coming up behind her.
Hermione shook her head, "Harry, he found something," she whispered, "What if it isn't crazy talk?"
An alarm shrilled behind them, and they turned to see Chloe burst from the room. "Nurse! Doctors! Help!"
Hermione gasped as various doctors and nurses ran to her grandmother's room, her words still echoing in her head.
The drive back to the house was filled with silence other than her mother's sniffles as Hermione drove through the Normandy countryside. The overcast sky showed the mood of the day as Hermione kept both hands on the wheel, her mind reeling with the information that her grandmother had told her, then right afterwards she had passed away of a suspected heart attack. Glancing at her mother, Briar Rose sat next to her, staring out the passenger window.
When they turned into the long dirt lane leading to the house, the tyres crunching on the gravel, Hermione parked in the small lot and turned off the engine.
For a moment, neither of them moved nor muttered a word.
"I think," Briar Rose said finally, her voice tired and worn, "I'm going to lie down for a bit. Just a nap. I need a moment to myself."
Hermione nodded immediately, "Of course. Go upstairs, I'll make sure there's dinner."
Briar Rose smiled, "Thank you, sweetheart."
Entering the house, her mother disappeared up the marble staircase, and Hermione let herself exhale slowly. While the rest of her family was reeling over the death of her grandmother, Hermione was also reeling from the information she did not know how to disprove that her grandmother had given her shortly before her death, where it sounded as if her family was descendants of Merlin himself, cursed with dormant magic until someone came who would finally be deemed worthy again.
Mind spiraling, she walked up the marble steps and wandered through the house without purpose. The house had always felt a bit cold, but the new revelations brought a chill unlike any it had ever known. Long lost secrets. Magic lost to time. With the stone sitting within Harry's vault, Hermione shivered at the thought.
Her feet subconsciously brought her to a familiar door. Her grandfather's study.
Hermione hesitated as her fingers brushed the handle. Unsure that it would even open. Gently, she pushed the door open. The scent hit her first, making her feel at home at once. Old paper, leather bindings, dust, and the faint smell of her grandfather's tobacco still lingered in the air.
The room appeared frozen in time. His desk, so much like her own, sat beneath the tall window, shining light on the papers still stacked on his desk as if he would return at any time. Glancing at them, she saw a light layer of dust, indicating that her grandmother had not even entered this room, possibly not in years.
Gently shutting the door behind her, she drifted towards the shelves. Her fingers trailed over the spines of texts that her grandfather deemed important. Horsemanship. Veterinary care. Equestrian laws. Running her fingers over some of the aging spines, she smiled at the fiction selections.
The Brothers Grimm. Other legends and myths that she had once sat upon her grandfather's knee, listening as he wove tales of long ago.
Exhaling, maybe they weren't legends, perhaps they were truth long lost.
As her fingers moved over an aged book, its leather cracked and tattered. The title appeared worn away long ago, warmth flared beneath her skin as the book's binding seemed to respond to her touch.
Hermione drew a deep breath as golden light grew from where her fingers rested, as letters bloomed across the spine as if they were being written by an invisible hand.
Pendragon Grimoire
Hermione gasped, stumbling back, her heart hammering within her chest as the book seemed to glow as if calling for her.
Reaching for it, Hermione eased it from the shelf. Once in her hands, the glow dimmed. Setting the grimoire on the desk, she slowly opened it. The cover creaked, its leather protesting after years of disuse.
On the inside of the cover were names and dates written by caretakers who recorded repairs over centuries, passing the text through generations.
The first page was drawn in a perfect, elegant script, names branching outward like the roots of a tree, holding the ever-growing branches steady. At the base were two names:
Myrddin Emrys
Viviane of Broceliande
Below their names was a single line connected to a child.
Morgen
Hermione ran her fingers over the name as she followed the lineage. Morgen was adopted by Uther Pendragon and raised by him.
Hermione gasped when she realized that the Morgen mentioned was the same one who had married King Urien and given birth to Ywain… then became Morgana le Fay. The branches spiderwebbed through the pages, changing through magic itself. Twenty pages in, a box formed before her eyes. Hermione's heart raced as if the book was communicating with her to drip a drop of blood within it. Looking around, she found a pair of scissors and, with a deep poke to her finger, a drop of blood dripped within the box.
Glowing gold, her name formed within the box, a dotted line connected hers to Harry's name, with Rosella's name solid beneath theirs.
Hermione inhaled, realizing what this meant. Her hands shook as she fumbled with her phone.
Harry answered on the second ring as she started pacing.
"Hermione? Everything okay?"
She laughed, breathless and near hysterical. "No, I mean… yes? I don't know."
There was a pause. "Hermione? Honey, what's wrong?"
"I found something in my grandfather's study," she told him, glancing at her name on the page. "A book, it's a grimoire, Harry."
Harry swore, "I knew it. I knew you probably had magical blood somewhere in your family history. You are too powerful not have it."
"The grimoire has a family tree," Hermione told him, "A family tree starting from long ago."
"What kind of family tree? The Blacks? Don't tell me the Blacks," Harry said.
"Who knows, I could be related to them. No… Harry, Merlin's," Hermione told him.
"Say that again?"
Hermione pulled at her hair. "My grandmother, before she died, said something at the hospital. More aware than she had been in years. At first, I thought it was just delirium, but she knew about our war. She knew I fought in it. She told me about Merlin, his affair with Viviane, and how we descended from that affair. How magic punished her by taking her magic from her after she turned on him." Hermione looked at the book. "But Harry, it's in this book. It lists her and their child together, named Morgen… Morgen gave birth to Ywain. Harry, Morgen is Morgana… Morgana Le Fey."
Only Rosella, in the background, babbling, told her that Harry was still on the other line. "Hermione," He said softly, "Are you sure?"
"I think so," she whispered as she sat hard in her grandfather's chair, "My brain can't process the billions of thoughts going through it right now. The book… it was as if it was waiting for me. It… had the family through centuries, and the pages were blank… only a box at the end after my grandmother and mum's names. God!" Hermione groaned as she laid her head on the book, "I'm an idiot, I put my blood in a book. Did I learn anything after Riddle's diary? NO! And it fucking glowed, Harry! And it was… it was as if my blood turned gold and wrote my name, your name, and Rosella's name within the book." Hermione pulled at her hair more as she stood up and started pacing again, "What if I am a long-lost relative of Merlin? Shite and Morgana…"
"And sounds like the lady of the lake if I listened to History of Magic even just a bit," Harry said, "Whatever this is… you don't have to face it alone. Whatever we have to do, we will figure this out."
Hermione plopped into the chair, pressing her palms into her eyes. When she opened them, words seemingly appeared on the rest of the pages. Eyes burning, she closed the grimoire carefully, "I'm very overwhelmed. I can't do this right now."
Harry's voice softened. "Just breathe, close the book, and listen to my voice. You are amazing and smart, but even the smartest people get overwhelmed. Breathe in… breathe out," he told her calmly as she closed her eyes and breathed with him. "And we have a possible answer to this already."
Hermione sat back, staring at the ceiling, "Shite… the crystal."
"I think we need to go to Gringotts together," Harry told her.
Hermione ran her hand over her face, "I'm so fucking tired."
"Wait…Hermione, you were talking so fast. Did you say she passed?" Harry asked.
Hermione nodded, even though he couldn't see it, "Yeah, they took her off sedation and… she was so clear for the first time in years. Blew me away, I wish I knew how she knew about the war, knew without saying it that I was a witch."
"Want me to come there?" Harry asked.
Hermione spun the chair, "I don't think we will be here much longer. From overhearing my aunt, the arrangements will be next week, and I don't want to spend a week here," she said, looking up at the pictures of her family from skiing trips of long past, "Plus, we have the wedding this weekend."
Harry groaned.
"Please tell me you remembered to take your robes to the cleaner," Hermione told him.
"I have time to do it tomorrow," Harry defended, "Don't worry about me, okay? Worry about your mum and yourself. I know you said that you didn't have a good relationship with her, but it was still your grandmum."
Hermione sighed. "I'm worried about her. Grandmother's clarity gave her some closure… but…"
"Hermione, just floo home. Go to Fleur's mum's house and floo home. I don't want you driving," Harry told her.
"Thank you for caring, but I'll be fine. It's just… fresh. I'll be fine by the morning if we leave then," Hermione said, sighing. "Shite, I think I need a nap."
"Then go take one. Obviously, you need it," Harry told her.
Hermione left the office, "I think my mind is reeling too much to turn my brain off to rest."
~*~ 13th August 2003 ~*~
The morning dragged on slowly. The maid had left during the night, saying goodbye to her mother and Chloe. Neither of them got much sleep. Hermione had made a light breakfast while Chloe and her mother discussed plans with their sisters. After a heated argument, everyone left, leaving Chloe and Briar Rose in tears, and both were ready to return home.
The funeral would be held in a week, and Chloe told them to stay at the estate. Neither of her aunts, Guinevere or Celine, would stay, so there was plenty of room for them all, even with Rosella, Harry, and Aunt Chloe's kids.
The air was cool after the late-morning storm as Hermione stood in the drive with her mother and Aunt Chloe, who were loading both their cars. The sky was slowly lightening up, the clouds giving way to the sun.
"Are you coming Monday?" Chloe asked, closing her boot.
Briar Rose looked at Hermione, who nodded. "Harry said he would drive us all overnight," Hermione answered, "We can sleep while he drives."
Chloe nodded as she opened her arms and Hermione stepped into them without thinking, holding onto her favourite aunt.
"I cannot wait to meet the man who has stolen your heart," Chloe told her. "Are you bringing my great-niece?"
Hermione huffed. "I should probably have my head examined, but yes."
"Good," Chloe said, squeezing her once more, "We need her brightness."
Chloe turned to Briar Rose and hugged her, too. "Briar, you know where to find me. Please, don't be a stranger."
"I'll do better, sis," Briar Rose promised, "Drive safe, and let me know when you get home."
"You two call me as well," Chloe insisted, walking around to the driver's side.
Hermione watched as her Aunt Chloe pulled away, then turned to her mother. "Ready to go?"
Briar Rose nodded. "Let's go home. I'm exhausted. Do you mind if I nap?"
Hermione shook her head as she climbed into the car, "Put the seat back and relax."
Briar Rose sighed as she reclined her seat, "Thank you for driving again."
"Just get some rest, Mum," Hermione told her as she pulled out of the dirt driveway.
Before she had even made it out of Normandy, her mother was asleep.
Easing the car into line as the ferry crew waved them forward, the tyres thumped on the metal ramps. Once parked, silence settled around them, broken only by the hum of the ferry's machinery and the passengers exiting their cars.
Gathering some of their belongings, they exited Hermione's car and then followed the other passengers to the lift to the observation decks.
Pulling her jumper closer to her, Hermione glanced at her mother. "At least this way we can stretch our legs," she told Briar Rose, "The train might be faster across, but this is calmer."
Six hours of travel across the channel lay ahead of them, but the ferry sounded better to Hermione, offering them movement and space to move around. As well as a mental break compared to a longer drive and a short train ride.
The land started to slowly draw farther away, France becoming smaller as Hermione rested her hands on the railing, the wind tugging at her curls as they whipped around her face.
After a few moments, she turned to her mother. "I know things were… complicated with them," she said quietly. "But I am truly sorry that Grandmere is gone."
Briar Rose leaned against the rail, watching the waves churning below. "I didn't want her to pass," she stated. "Not like that, but she didn't have a quality of life anymore. She was tired, Hermione. It was time. Now she can be with my father again."
Briar Rose looked over at Hermione. "She said some things at the end. Do you think they meant anything? She was always obsessed with Arthurian legends. I assumed that's what it was."
Hermione exhaled slowly. "They aren't entirely legends, Mum. Merlin was real. So was Morgan le Fay. We call her Morgana."
Briar Rose stared at her, surprised.
"What she said didn't shock me as much," Hermione stated, "As what I found after I went to bed."
Briar Rose turned fully to her. "What did you find?"
Hermione motioned to the two empty deck chairs nearby. They sat down, and Hermione curled into hers as the ferry moved steadily through the Channel.
"I went into Grandfather's study," Hermione admitted. "I know I probably shouldn't have. But I missed him. I was looking through his books and brushed one of them with my hand. It reacted. It glowed, Mum."
Briar Rose frowned, "What does that mean?"
"It revealed itself," Hermione said softly. "It was the Pendragon Grimoire."
Briar Rose stared at her. "Grimoire… why does that sound familiar?"
"It's a family history book," Hermione explained, "For old magical families. Spells, potions, incantations, and lineage that is passed down through generations. All of it is recorded there. The family tree began with Morgen Pendragon, daughter of Viviane and Merlin. And many, many pages later…" She swallowed hard. "My name was there. And Harry's with Rosella's."
Briar Rose's breath caught. "So, it wasn't all in her head?"
Hermione shook her head, "If the Grimoire is true, then she was telling the truth in the end."
"Can you confirm it?" Briar Rose asked, "How could anyone even prove anything like that?"
"There is a crystal in one of Harry's vaults," Hermione said. "It's at Gringotts, and even if that crystal does nothing, possibly Gringotts could. I don't know if they could help, but they were my first thought."
Briar Rose leaned back in her chair, "And what would you do if it's all true?"
Hermione stared out at the water. "I don't know. I don't think it would change who I am. Maybe just how I understand myself."
Briar Rose shook her head, "Do you want to explore the ship?"
Hermione smiled faintly. "Probably a good idea. I saw a pamphlet during check-in. There's a cinema, apparently, and I'm starving."
Briar Rose stood offering her hand. "My treat, and I know we have a good five hours until we have to drive. I don't know about you, but I know I saw there was a bar."
Hermione took her hand, "I could use a drink." Placing her arm around her mother's waist, they left the deck, the wind and the waves behind them as it carried them home.
Hermione pulled into her driveway and slowed to a stop, seeing a large vehicle already sitting in her driveway, and frowned, "Harry must have someone over."
Briar Rose let out a low whistle, "Must be someone with money, that is a Mercedes-Benz Station Wagon."
Hermione climbed out of the car and peered through the windows. "It even has a screen in the headrest for people to watch movies. That is absolutely ridiculous."
"I thought it was practical for car trips."
Hermione heard her mother gasp and stood straight to see Harry standing in front of her. But not how she left him, "You cut your hair?"
Harry ran his hand through his hair. "Don't you like it?"
Hermione slowly walked up to him, running her fingers over the short sides, with a fringe that was longer on top, "It's different, it needs styling. I thought you didn't want to cut it. You said keeping it long helped the messiness."
Harry pulled her into his arms, "I know, but I was getting tired of it and was putting it back all the time anyway. It looks better now. More professional."
Briar Rose looked at the car, then back at them, "Harry, you didn't buy this car to impress my family… did you?"
Harry's eyes widened as he shook his head. "No… of course not. After you said she passed, I wanted to drive us all, and we needed a bigger car. I saw this, and it can play movies for Rosella. It has something called a DVD player in the headrest. Rosella can be entertained while we drive."
Hermione swatted him, "Harry, we barely use the car!"
"Abuse!" Harry laughed, "We might use it more if we keep her entertained."
Her father's car pulled into her driveway, and Camillo got out, staring at Harry's car. "Son, did you get a car?"
"Do you like it?" Harry asked, walking over to the car, "It's a Mercedes-Benz M-Class Station Wagon, I got the optional DVD player in the headrest for Rose," Harry said as he opened the door and popped the hood.
Briar Rose shook her head, amused, "Boys and their toys." She hugged Hermione, kissing her cheek, "Thank you for driving and coming with me."
"I am glad that I could be there," Hermione said, lifting Briar Rose's suitcase to the boot of her parents' car.
"Camillo, are we leaving?" Briar Rose asked.
"Yes, dear." Camillo said, peering under the hood of the car, "So, what sort of engine does this have?"
Briar Rose sighed. "I can just leave, and Harry can bring you home later."
"Yes, dear," Camillo said, his head still under the hood.
Hermione chuckled, "Might as well head home, Mum. We will make sure he gets home."
Harry started his engine, and Camillo grinned, his face lighting up, "It barely sounds like it's started."
Briar Rose slid into the driver's seat. "I'll call you tonight."
Hermione waved as Briar Rose backed out and drove off.
Camillo had climbed into the backseat and poked his head out of the back window. "Wait, where did your mother go?"
Hermione laughed, "Home. We are both tired."
"Shite," Camillo muttered, looking back at Harry, "Can I drive this home?"
Harry laughed, "Go ahead. I'll come over and get it later."
Hermione shook her head as her dad hopped in the driver's seat and sped away, "We might never get to use it."
Harry slid his arm over her shoulders, "They only have the one car, and we won't use ours that much."
Hermione stopped short, looking at Harry, shocked, "Harry, did you basically buy my Dad a car that we will borrow?!"
"I didn't mean it for that purpose, but it works," Harry told her.
Hermione snorted, "Are you buying my father's affections?"
"Nah, he already likes me," Harry said, leading her into the house, "I have dinner ready. I made spaghetti bolognese with garlic bread."
"Lord, I love you," Hermione said as she kissed him, "Where is Rose?"
"Annie and MacKenzie stole her for the evening. She'll be back in half an hour. I asked her to take her until you get settled. Love her, but she is a ball of energy, and I wanted you to be able to decompress first," Harry told her as she sat down at the table.
Hermione burst into tears, "Thank you."
Harry kissed her forehead, "It's my job to take care of you. Now eat, I'm going to go start you a bath so you can relax."
Hermione bit her lip as she wiped her tears away. Sometimes she forgot how lucky she was.
Preview of Chapter 44 – A Thousand Years
Ron followed her gaze and smiled. "Blimey, about time you two. We were starting to think you two weren't coming."
"I definitely didn't come," Harry said casually.
Hermione gasped and hit him. "People are around Harry James!" Hermione hissed, "No lipstick for you tonight."
Harry groaned. "Come on, Hermione. I was joking!"
Luna cackled, loud enough that people glanced over. "You two are hilarious."
Ron frowned as he shook his head, "I don't think I want to know why Harry wears lipstick."
Harry shot him a glare. "Seriously? Could you say that any louder? It's not for my lips, mate. It's gonna be wrapped around my-"
Hermione gasped, covering his mouth, as her face burned, mortified, "I cannot take you two anywhere."