FicWad

I’ve edited this chapter because I spotted a glaring continuity hole that needed to be filled. Hopefully, I’ll have the next parts up this weekend.


PART 21: INTRO TO MAGIC 202


Christmas Break. Dec 14, 85-Jan 5, 86

Dec 16, 85:


“Harry?” Hermione ventured. “Can I see your spaceship?”

“My…” Harry almost choked on his own spit. He’d planned on eventually revealing the My Little to Hermione and her parents, but quite honestly hadn’t considered that his future wife might aware of her yet.

“I saw it land in your back garden in July.”

“What were you doing up at that time of the morning?”

“I woke up, and heard the humming, and I looked out of the window, and there it was.”

“Aah.” He nodded sagely. Actually, knowing her the way he did, he thought it nothing less than miraculous that she’d held her curiosity in check for nearly a half year before asking.

“OK. Why not! Let’s go see her.”

“Really?” Hermione’s eyes sparkled in excitement…as they did whenever she discovered something new.

“Sure. Do you want your mum and dad to come along?”

“Well, they’re interested, but daddy’s in the car park just now, playing with his Jaguar, and mummy’s still at the surgery.”

“Do you want to wait?”

“Umm…no! We can bring them later, but I want to see it!”

Harry smiled. Hermione was nothing if not tenacious. When she got something into her head, it usually took something else of world shattering proportions to get it out. He felt it was one of her most endearing points.

Hermione called out to her father that they were going over to Harry’s house and together they ran across the garden to the little iron gate Harry had installed in the fieldstone fence between their homes. Mackenzie had been astonished one day, to find Harry troweling mortar into place, and even more shocked to discover how Harry had learned what to do. When he asked, the little boy had told him it was a surprise for Hermione, and while Sirius knew of it, he’d asked to do it himself. He also explained that his magic prevented things from becoming dangerous. In demonstration, he levitated a thirty-kilo rock into place and filled the gaps with mortar.

In the end, Mackenzie set aside his golf bag and they finished the gate together.

Since it didn’t take long, he and Harry went to the club for a few rounds anyway.

Now, with the splints gone, she’d discovered he could run faster than she could, and so undertook a running programme to rectify that situation.

******

In the hangar, she breathed a long, drawn-out “Ooooh!” of wonderment, as she beheld the gleaming vessel she’d seen that early July morning. He silently commanded the ramp to lower itself.

“Is…is it safe?” She asked nervously. She’d seen enough science fiction movies to understand you had to be careful when entering alien spaceships.

“Yeah. The drive systems and weapons are powered down and the shields are at minimum to prevent any accidental discovery. Let’s go inside.” And together, they ascended the ramp. Silently Harry sent a thought to ‘Mione and asked her to not say anything just yet. He wasn’t sure how Hermione would feel about an AI with her voice.

‘Mione agreed.

Harry held her hand as they ascended the grav-shaft. Hermione squealed in delighted surprise to find herself being so gently lifted.

On the main deck, he gestured and the wall before her melted away. They stepped through and it reformed itself. As before, he asked for background noise, and when Hermione asked, he gave her the same explanation as he had Sirius.

“Wow!” was all she could say.


Harry took her on a tour, showing her the whole of the ship, including his favorite part, the combined library, study. Like he did, she found it’s muted blues and greens to be peaceful and relaxing. The painting he’d been working on still rested on its easel, and, inquisitive as always, she ‘peeked’.

“That’s us!” she chirped. And it was. The painting was not yet finished, but Hermione’s face and the green pinafore and white cardigan she’d been wearing on their first meeting, were unmistakable. The painted Hermione was walking with a half-painted Harry Potter, who, in turn, was carrying the rough beginnings of what would be a miniature Saxon motte-and-bailey castle.

“I like to paint. I find it relaxing. I can also ask the ship’s AI to create musical instruments to play.”

Can you create a piano?”

“There’s not really enough room for a piano, but I can ask her for a keyboard that does exactly the same thing.” Mentally, he did just that.

Immediately a keyboard appeared in a sparkle of light. ~Showoff!~

~I could have added sound effects, too! Count yourself lucky!~


Harry sat before the keyboard adjusted it to ‘organ’ and began to play ‘Toccata and Fugue in D minor’, but after the first dozen bars, Hermione placed her hand on his.

“That’s just creepy!’

“Why?” Harry gave her his most innocent look.

“I expect Count Dracula to come in and say; “Good evening!” Hermione gave a credible impression of Bela Lugosi’s voice.

Harry snickered and mentally asked ‘Mione to remove the keyboard.


Just as Sirius had, Hermione expected something as large as the My Little to be quite roomy inside. She was rather surprised to find that there was only about as much room as a medium-sized caravan.

“It’s pretty cramped in here.” She commented. “I’m surprised!”

“Yeah, most of the space is taken up by the power and drive systems, life support, shields, weapons, stores and the like, but for one or two, it’s OK.”

Like Sirius, she was fascinated by the floating chair in the blue bubble. Harry gave her a quick explanation of how the seat was actually suspended between opposing fields, which allowed for free movement yet held it in place for maximum control efficiency.

She sat in the pilot’s seat, looking out through the panoramic viewscreen to the hangar beyond. Harry wrapped the flexible golden strap around her head and spoke to the computer. “Add third person to command network…unrestricted access, Hermione Jane Granger.”


The headset came to life and Hermione felt a strange intrusion in her mind. Like Sirius before her, she was about to pull the circlet off, when the large screen before her went from showing the hangar to a bright blue background, displaying what she recognized as brainwave patterns. Instantly fascinated, she stopped struggling. Harry chuckled at Hermione’s rapt attention, as the computer integrated her brainwaves for access and control functions. When the AI had finished recording, the screen cleared once more.

“Were those my brainwaves?”

“Mmmhmmm. They were being integrated into the command system. Now, you can tell the ship to do anything within her capabilities.”

“Brilliant!”

“So, what do you want to do?”

“Ummm…can I have it take us into space?”

“You could, but I’d recommend waiting until it’s really dark before you do that. Our shields are good, but people might notice anyway.”

Hermione blushed. “Oh. OK.”

“Anything else?”

“Well what can it do?”

“There’s not a lot she can’t do! Why don’t we start small…say, have a look around?”

“OK. How do I tell it to…” She trailed off.

“Just think what you’d like to happen and it will. Oh, by the away, My Little is partially sentient and…” A device like a truncated cone made of what looked like copper extruded itself on the wall and a bright blue spark struck his arse. He yelped. “OK! OK! mostly sentient!”

Another spark flew and he amended himself once more.

“Sentient! Completely and unequivocally sentient!”

Hermione felt something in the air like…vindication. Harry dug into a draw and muttered: “She’s also evil!”

This time before the spark could come, he threw a finely woven copper mesh over the cone-like source of the sparks.

A second device appeared on the other wall, but Harry was ready. He tossed the same kind of mesh over it and quickly fastened it to the first with a length of wire, with another leading to a point in a wall.

“She’s got a right nasty attitude…” He explained to the gape jawed Hermione. “So when you have something you want done, it helps to ask…politely.”


Hermione giggled at her very best friend, then squinched her eyes shut, concentrating on asking the ship to show them a view of the neighborhood.

In response the My Little established contact with one of the dozen spy-eyes, which Harry had tasked to fly constantly around the area, observing and transmitting real-time images to the computer. The screen flashed blue and then settled into an interesting aerial view of the area. They could see all the houses and the cars below them. At the far end of one orbit about a half-mile away, they saw a group of children huddled around something. Intrigued, Harry directed another of the invisible spy-eyes, to the scene. The children surrounded what appeared to be a small animal. Most likely a cat or dog.

Harry ordered a zoom-in, and the image on the screen enlarged several dozen times. From above the little probe showed them a grey striped tabby, lying on her side with a large gash on her shoulder and along her ribcage. Harry could tell the injury was from a cutting curse. He also recognized that cat. The markings around her eyes were unmistakable.

“That’s Professor McGonagall!”

“Who?”

“Professor McGonagall. She’s a witch who can turn into a cat. Gimmee a second.” And he popped away. Hermione watched the image as he appeared from around the corner from the children and rushed to see if he could help.

From her vantage, Hermione could see several adults closing on the cat’s position.

Then all hell broke loose.

Beams of light were fired, shielded against, and returned.

Six seconds later, all five of the adults were unconscious and bound, and Harry was speaking to the group of children. They all left with no memory of the attack, only that they’d found the injured cat and that new kid, Harry, had taken it to a vet for treatment.

Harry popped back in with the injured cat in his arms, and directed Hermione to come with him. They headed to the medical bay where he placed the tabby on the soft surfaced exam table. Turning to Hermione, he said: “Here. Try to clean her up some. I’ll be right back.” and popped away again.

Recognized by the command systems, Hermione found that the medical supplies made themselves available to her. A tray slid from a wall. She opened the tray and seeing the odd instruments inside, asked herself: “How do I use these?”

A soft female voice that sounded very much like her own, answered. “Describe what you are trying to accomplish.”

“She’s hurt. I don’t know how badly. I’m supposed to be…why am I talking to myself?”

“You are not. I am the ship’s AI.” The voice replied. “I control its systems and provide assistance where I can. You may call me ‘Mione.”

“Oh, OK.” Hermione was surprised by the concept but having seen so much in such a short time, she was well into information overload anyway. “The patient has a large incision or laceration across her right shoulder and chest, the cut is deep enough that I can see her ribs, but I don’t see any organs being affected. There’s a lot of blood though.”

What species is the patient?”

“She’s a cat…Felis Catus. Or rather she’s a magical human who can shift her form to that of a tabby. Harry called her Professor McGonagall.”

“I am familiar with Professor McGonagall’s history. First we must scan the wound to discover if there is another injury hidden beneath. The white object the size and shape of a hens egg with a projecting horn is a subdural scanner. To activate it, grip it gently and squeeze it until the blue light comes on.”

Hermione did, squeaking as the tip of the crystal clear horn lit. She immediately dropped it. With ‘Mione guiding her, she picked it up again and squeezed. Again the tip lighted and a pale blue beam touched the cat’s fur.

“Good.” ‘Mione praised. “Now, sweep the beam over the affected area.”

Hermione complied. She was a gently raised child, but, unlike most six year olds, she was well used to blood. Even at her young age, she’d had enough of her own spilt by bullies.

Holding the alien device over the professor’s body, she passed it along the wound. McGonagall watched her every move like a stern teacher.

“The incision is deep, but relatively clean, but there appears to be no additional damage. Her shoulder and ribs prevented more serious harm.” The AI announced. “Set the scanner down and pick up the cleansing wand.” The tool drawer flashed twice under a device looking like a smooth white and light blue banana with one rounded end, and one tapering to a near point. “That device is a combination of a sterile wash with a mild anesthetic, to clean the injury, and a vacuum to remove the blood from the injury site. To activate it, just grip and squeeze like you did with the scanner. Professor, I'm afraid this will hurt until the anesthetic takes effect.”

Hermione did so and a fine spray of water erupted from the thing, to be sucked back in, a second later. Minerva yowled in pain as the tool cleaned the blood from tender flesh, but then settled down as the anesthetic in the liquid took hold.

Hermione felt her eyes sting. She hated to see others in pain, because she knew exactly how it felt, and it was worse now! She was the one causing that pain!

“I’m sorry, Professor!” Unbidden, a tear spilled over her lid and rolled down her cheek.

To her shock, the cat rested a paw on her hand and a gentle purr came from her throat.

******


Outside, Harry was rifling through the unconscious minds of their assailants. ~Well, well, well! It seems Lucius Malfoy has called for a pogrom against the mugglebornes before they could reach Hogwarts. These idiots are the first wave. Hmmm! It’s no wonder we had such a small class! Death Eaters killed them all off!~

Seeing as there had been no response to the attacks by the Ministry, Harry decided to force the issue. He sent a howling signal dart to Amelia Bones.

******

In the Ministers office, Amelia was shocked to receive a signal dart from an unknown sender. More it shouted at her! She didn’t think that was possible!

“THERE ARE FIVE DOWNED DEATH EATERS IN CAMBRIDGE, ON CANDYFLOSS COURT. EITHER YOU COME AND COLLECT THEM, OR I WILL PORTKEY THEM INTO A LAVA VENT ON MOUNT AETNA! YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES!”

Amelia literally jumped from her chair and donned her armor as Connie darted down the hallway, calling for an Auror combat squad.


She narrowly missed colliding with Lucius Malfoy. He’d been lurking about the Minister’s outer office under a notice-me-not charm, trying to find something he could use to either ingratiate himself to her or to find a weak spot in her defenses that he could exploit. Instead he heard the loud voice announce his plans going up in smoke and had immediately fled the office to avoid capture. Down the hall, was the executive’s tearoom, and so he headed there.

As soon as he was certain they were gone, he headed for the atrium. He had some damage control to attend to.

******

They arrived on Candyfloss Court to find five unconscious men wrapped in red ribbons, and stacked like cordwood. Their wands were also carefully beribboned, and lying in a neat row next to them.

“Well, well, well! Amelia was about ready to orgasm, given just who these prisoners were! Deniaus Avery, Thaddeus Nott, Walden Macnair, Tiberius Mulciber, and Aloysius Yaxley.


“We’re going to need more Veritaserum.” She chuckled.

******

Harry returned to find Hermione inexpertly but adequately wielding an anabolic protoplaser, with ‘Mione softly giving instructions.

“D’you want me to take over?”

“Umm…actually, if…if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish. You can make sure I don’t do anything wrong, but I’d like…” Hermione broke off uncertainly.

“That’s OK. I understand perfectly.” He took a minute to write something on a sheet of paper, and seal it into an envelope before making it vanish.

Hermione grinned brightly as Harry picked up a second protoplaser and waited to assist.

******

As Bones watched her people portkey away with the captured Death Eaters, an envelope popped into being in front of her. More than experienced in such traps, she allowed the package to drop to the ground before scanning it for curses, portkeys and the like.

Inside was a simple note.

“Where the hell was the Ministry of Magic while combat-level spells were being fired in a mundane neighborhood?

The White Knight.”

“That, Mister Knight, is a very, very good question, indeed.”

******

In the medical bay, Harry didn’t have to do much. Hermione gained confidence as she worked, and soon enough, she was sealing the last of the bloody gash.

“Outstanding, Hermione!” He praised her. Checking the readouts, he added; “She’ll need some rest and an infusion for her lost blood, but for the most part, it’s done.”

Hermione blushed shyly at the praise.

Harry gathered up the unconscious cat and saying; “I’ll be right back!” popped away to St. Mungo’s.

******

“We need a bit of help here!”

“What seems to be the problem, young man?” A woman of about fourty, seated at the Welcome desk, asked him. Then seeing the cat, she added: “We normally don’t treat animals, familiar or not.”

“That’s good to know, but my familiar is a snowy owl. This is Professor McGonagall. Some Death Eaters hit her with a cutting curse today. My friend closed the wound, but she’ll need some blood restorative before she can return to human form.”

“Aah! I thought I recognized those markings.” The witch nodded and came around the counter holding out a warm, fluffy towel. “Give her here, then.”

Harry carefully passed his once and future teacher to the woman, who wrapped her in the towel, before flicking her wand. A silver dart sped down the hallway.


Less than a minute later a thin young man with a nervous air, arrived, slightly out of breath. He recognized the cat immediately.

“Whatever happened to Professor McGonagall?”

“Death Eaters.” Harry explained. “They were on a mission to eliminate as many mugglebornes as possible before they started Hogwarts. She got in their way, and they hit her with a cutter. My friend Hermione closed the wound, but she’ll need to replace the lost blood.”

A quick scan followed and he nodded. “That’s as neat a job as I’ve ever seen. Tell your friend Hermione to come see us. I think I can guarantee her a spot as an apprentice.”

“Aah…it’ll have to wait until she…finishes Hogwarts…starts, for that matter.”

“How old is Hermione?” He asked, shocked.

“Six.” Harry smirked, and then he vanished silently, leaving the two to wonder if they’d only imagined his presence. Minerva yowled sleepily, reminding them they still had a patient to attend to.



******

Lucius flooed Oristes and snapped out some orders.

“Things have gone terribly wrong. Somehow the Minister has discovered our plans. Contact your group. Tell them that plan is to be postponed for the time being. Nobody is to attempt anything until I give the order. Have them pass it to their groups.”

He ended the floo-call before Parkinson could ask questions.

Oristes fumed at the treatment he’d received from the aristocratic blond, but did as he was ordered. He knew Malfoy had ways of getting what he wanted, and eliminating rid of those he didn’t want, and he much preferred being wealthy and a bit uncomfortable to being knutless and very dead.

******

Harry was showing her the armored spacesuits next to the airlock leading to the ‘Doodlebug’ when Hermione reached out to touch a plasma rifle. “What are these?”

“Hideously dangerous energy projection weapons.” Harry replied in a bland tone.

Hermione snatched her hand away. Harry chuckled. Hermione glared. “Prat!”

“Actually, I was telling the truth. They are dangerous…when they’re charged, but just now, they’re inert.” He pointed to a small heavy looking panel. It melted away and she could see several dark grey cylinders with silver ends, each about four inches long.

“Those are the power packs. Without them, the plasma rifles make pretty good clubs.”

Hermione giggled.

******

Back in the lounge, Harry asked; “What would you like for lunch?”

“Fish and chips. I love ‘em! Daddy does too, but mummy never lets us have them. She says they’re a prime example of poor diet.” Hermione aped her mother’s ‘lecture voice’ perfectly.

“She’s right…” Harry nodded. “BUT…” he held up a hand to quell her reaction. “Fish and chips are Britain’s national food. For the British, eating them is practically a law.” Harry took on a dramatic, overly righteous stance…like a politician trying for reelection. Hermione giggled.

He mentally asked ‘Mione to provide the deep fried goodness. A chime and the synthesizer opened to display two pasteboard cartons decorated with red and white squares, white butcher paper, slit lengthwise, a bottle of vinegar, and a salt shaker. Beside the hot food, were two tall plastic tumblers filled with Orange Tango.

Both children set to on the forbidden feast, and within a half hour, had demolished the lot. Hermione belched softly, then blushed in embarrassment. Harry, feeling he should put her at her ease, gulped some air and returned the sentiment, filling the room with a loud; “BRAAAPPP!”

Hermione just about fell over laughing.

Soon enough, Harry led his best friend out of the tiny starship, up the stairs and across the snow covered ground toward her own home.

“In a couple days, maybe this weekend, I’ll invite your parents over to see her, OK?”

“OK.”

He walked her to her door where, in a burst of childish impulse, she hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. Both giggled, and red-faced, turned to their homes.


Unseen by either, the newly returned Judith Granger smiled warmly, as she watched from her car. This happy, friendly boy had been so very good for her precious daughter. Hermione was blossoming like a flower in the sunlight!

******

As Harry returned, ‘Mione spoke.

“You know, I wasn’t expecting to like Hermione so much. You chose my personality well.”

“There was never a choice, my friend. I don’t think I’ve loved anyone half as much as I loved her. Her personality would be the only one I’d choose to be my sole companion…especially when you consider the trip I’d originally planned.”

“How is it going to be, knowing she was your wife, and yet learning to love her again?”

“An adventure, I expect. Merlin told me “There will be certain ‘adjustments’ made so once you meld with your previous form, you will be able to interact comfortably with people your own apparent age.” so I won’t feel like a pervert. The memories will remain, but fade as I alter the timeline. In fact, that’s why I insisted on the memory dump into your storage. It may never be needed, but it’s better to have and not need, then to need and not have.”

“Speaking of which, if you want me to remain in optimal functioning condition, I’ll need to place those memories into a new storage facility.”

Can I build another core with this level of technology?”

“No, but there are alternates. If I reroute the memory engrammes to the secondary storage, it will fill that one to about half its capacity, while freeing my primary core for ship services.”

“No, that storage is there for a reason. I don’t want you impaired in the slightest, because you don’t have the memory to handle something.”

“Perhaps we could create a specialized pensieve.”

“I can’t really see a pensieve being all that useful. I’d have to have hundreds of them to store the memories of a thousand years.”

“Since my memory cores are based on the pensieve, I’d have to agree. If you look at subjective volume, my cores can each store more than fifty million times the amount in even Dumbledore’s pensieve.”

“Yeah….” Harry broke off for a moment.

“Hold on a tic. I built a prototype memory core when I designed your systems.”

“You did.”

“OK at the risk of sounding completely incompetent, is it aboard? If not, what happened to it?”

“It is currently in your vault in Gringotts.”

“Bugger! I forgot about that. OK, I’ll go to Gringotts and pick it up. I can use the Doodlebug to carry it back here.”

“That should work. I can produce a power core for that memory stack, transfer those memories, and store them, long-term.”

Good enough. I’ll take the Doodlebug out tonight, and I should be back by midnight.”




PART 22: INTRO TO MAGIC 303


******

On the seventeenth, Sirius, Remus and a disguised Harry spent a wonderful day, first in Diagon Alley, and then at Harrods, braving the mobs there to shop for the Grangers. They’d each said they would not buy anything for each other, and of course, each made sure they could get away from their compatriots, to pick up something special for the other two. For Sirius and Remus it was simple as all they had to do was swap off. They didn’t know Harry had purloined a time-turner…and had never returned it. He slipped off to the bathroom at Fortescue’s and turned the device back three hours.

By the end of the day, each of the three of them had their purchases shrunken and hidden in pockets and each felt they’d gotten away with murder.

******

They arrived home to find the Grangers waiting there with Snowballs in hand. Harry begged five minutes to put presents away so they wouldn’t be damaged. Inside, Moppet was waiting to take their purchases to their respective bedrooms.

When she returned, Harry asked; “Moppet, would you please have some hot chocolate and biscuits waiting for us all.”

Moppet promised and returned to her duties, while the three ‘kids’ went out to face a barrage of snowballs.

The Grangers were very, very good. Each threw in concert with at least one of the others, and whoever wasn’t throwing was packing fresh snowballs. Harry, Sirius and Remus weren’t nearly as organized.

Still, they gave as good as they got, and within an hour, all six of them were tired, wet and happy. As Harry ushered them into the house, raised eyebrows told him that nether adult Granger expected something as refined as the warm maple woodwork inside Number 34. Truth be told, they’d expected a bachelor’s pad. A ratty old couch someone had dropped by the roadside, a high-end stereo on stacked boards and breezeblocks and china that matched whatever was available at the local rummage sale. Instead they found a clean, well-maintained Georgian home with immaculately polished woodwork, gleaming floors and the odors of baking bread and roasting meat wafting through the air.

Harry snickered at their surprise and led them into the mud-room, where he had them drop their outer clothing and boots on the drying grates and then into the parlor where Moppet had made good.

There on the side bar, were a large silver and crystal samovar filled with hot chocolate, and two trays of assorted Christmas biscuits. As before, Judith glared at the biscuits before allowing two each, which drew a look of astonishment from her husband. She smiled sweetly and said; “It’s Christmas dear.” And that was all she would say about that.

The day ended well with ‘the boys’ escorting the Grangers home, and then returning to their own.

Each went to their room to clean up for dinner, and not coincidently check the presents they’d bought.

All three discovered the gifts already wrapped and labelled for the appropriate recipient. Harry levitated his to the ceiling and stuck them there, before covering them with a chameleon charm.

He knew the other’s, Sirius especially, liked to ‘peek’.

******

On the twenty first of December, Harry walked across the conjoined gardens to the Granger’s home and invited them all to come over to see the little starship in the cellar. Needless to say, the elder Grangers were enthralled. Hermione, of course, already knew…in fact, it had taken all the self control the six-year-old possessed to not spill the beans over the past week. Judith immediately recognized the sense of profound and immense relief from her precocious daughter and understood what Hermione had been hiding. She gathered her child into a loving hug, before insisting they all don their heavy jackets, as it was freezing outside!

As a group, they traipsed their way across the snow and through the little iron gate. Harry and Hermione were holding hands, with Hermione giggling, and almost dancing in excitement.

Once again, they made their way inside Harry’s home, and once again their eyes told him they appreciated the care and devotion he’d spent on maintaining this beautiful home. As before the odors of fresh-baked bread and a hearty stew, rich and redolent wafted through the air.

Harry immediately invited them all to stay of dinner, as he was sure they’d need the comfort of food and friendship after the shocks they were about to receive.

He was only glad neither Sirius nor Remus were home, as neither would let an opportunity for pranking go to waste.

Well, maybe Remus would but Sirius…never!


A trip down the stairs to the cellar, and through the short tunnel had them face to face with a gleaming silvery-white machine that wouldn’t be invented for nearly a thousand years.


“This is yours?” Mack was stunned. The boy had his own personal starship…and what a ship! His hungry eyes traced sleek lines from bow to stern, as he walked slowly toward the vessel. He’d always imagined flying on such a ship, but knew it was a dream that would forever go unfulfilled. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Mmmhmm.”

“Where did you get it!” came from Judith, while a suddenly jealous Mackenzie almost whinged: “Where can I get one?” Harry snickered before answering.

“I designed her, and I built her.”

With that, Harry led them around the little starship, explaining this part or that. As Remus had discovered before, there were no obvious signs of this being a space-going vessel, and yet, they knew it all the same. There was a feeling of barely controlled power and unmistakable grace emanating from the silvery white hull that even now drew them in, like moths to a flame.

As before, a gleaming ramp extruded itself from the belly of the My Little.


For the second time in a week, Harry played tour-guide. He showed them the control bubble, with its magically suspended control seat and panoramic view, the lounge and galley, his calm, blue sanctum, the medical bay and gym. He even showed them the little bathroom and explained why it had a shower rather than a tub.

Done that he led his stunned guests into the My Little’s lounge and gestured to the couches so organically moulded into the walls there. The Grangers sank gratefully into the offered seats. Mackenzie was well into information overload and Judith wasn’t far behind. A table grew into being between them, eliciting an undignified squeak from both. Hermione giggled and snuggled in beside Harry.

He asked the synthesizer to provide cocoa and biscuits for them all and when it pinged, he levitated the snacks over to the table. When he’d served them, he sat in the large seat across the aisle. Judith was still in shock and said nothing about the enamel-destroying treats.

“You see, Mister Granger, Missus Granger, I’ve told you the truth, but I haven’t told you all of the truth.

“And what is all the truth?”

Harry aped Dumbledore’s stentorian tones as well as a five-year-old throat could. “The truth is a terrible and dangerous thing and therefore should be taken carefully”

Hermione giggled and then said: “All right, Obi Wan, knock it off!”

They all chuckled unto Harry decided to get serious.

“I’m what the science fiction writers would call a time traveler. On my last birthday, I had turned one thousand years old exactly. It was July the thirty first, twenty-nine eighty. I had been living for so long I just wanted to get away. Unfortunately Earth-Gov didn’t see it that way. To them, I was a natural resource…one they could command at will. When I was eight hundred and ninety three, I volunteered to lead an expedition to the center of the galaxy to investigate the super-massive collapsar there. They refused, and told me I was too valuable an asset for the planet to risk, so I decided it was time to part ways with them, and began to design the My Little. It took more than a hundred years to design and then build her and I did most of the work myself. That’s why you recognise so much of what you see here, despite the fact you’ve never been aboard before.”

“Those drawings!” Judith blurted out, her face alight with recognition. “They weren’t surrealistic art at all, they were parts of this ship!”

“Basically, yeah. I needed to get you used to seeing it, so that when you did come aboard, you wouldn’t become gibbering idiots. Anyway, they pursued me and intercepted me just beyond the orbit of Mars. When I refused to surrender, they fired on me. They intended to capture me and return me to prison.”

Harry spent the next several hours going over the life he lived before he died.


Mackenzie was feeling less than completely comfortable with these revelations. Despite the absurdity, he understood it had to be true, given that they were sitting inside a vessel that by all rights should not exist.

Strangely enough, that wasn’t the problem. Even the time travel, as paradoxical as it seemed, wasn’t the problem. The problem boiled down to simple fact that Mack was a daddy, and all daddies need to protect their baby girls.

Here, this little boy who was younger than his precious Hermione, was also an old, world-weary man with a thousand years of experience behind him. What did he want with Hermione? Was he an old pervert, out to corrupt her? Would he take her innocence from her and then leave her behind, withered and empty? Did her have some nefarious plan for her…

Or was he simply a child with an ancient soul?


Harry seemed to know his mind. When dusk had fallen, and Hermione’s tummy announced that she was hungry, Harry escorted them to the stairs, and told them there was a bathroom adjoining the dining room where they could freshen up for dinner, and then he asked Mack to remain behind for a few moments, explaining to the ladies that he wanted advice on their Christmas gifts. Both Granger girls blushed in surprised pleasure, and departed, leaving a nervous Harry guiding an even more nervous Mackenzie back up into the My Little, and to the blue carpeted library-cum-studio to chat.

He seated his guest and began to pace. “Mister Granger, I can understand your concerns. Right now, you’re overwhelmed. Most important, though, is you’re wondering…why? Why do I want to get involved with Hermione? Is that about right?”

Mack could only nod.

“I thought so. ‘Mione?”

“Yes, Harry?” came a voice Mack could easily recognize. It was Judith’s voce, and yet, not quite.

“Would you show yourself as you were during my life?’

“Are you certain?”

“You know your dad better than I do.”

The voice sighed; “You’re right.” and a solid looking image coalesced into a most familiar, brown haired woman. Mack was absolutely stunned. It was Judith! Then he looked again and he saw that it wasn’t entirely Judith, but also him. The image was wearing a light green summer blouse and a slightly darker skirt and showed Judy’s graceful features, but the hazel eyes were his own. She also had the untamable bushy brown hair that he’d seen only on his wife.

“Hermione?”

“Not precisely.” The image replied with a shy smile. “What you see is a holographic construct. I am what Hermione Potter looked like for most of her life.”

Mack needed a drink.

As if by…magic, a chime sounded and a panel lifted showing a highball glass filled with two fingers of amber liquid.

Harry took the glass and placed it in Mack’s hand. As he sipped the whisky, noting with surprise that it was better than anything in his stock, Harry went on; “Hermione and I were married for a hundred and eighteen years. She was my wife, my lover, my partner, and my very best friend. When she died, I lost the most important part of my life.” Mack was shocked to see the hologramme actually blush, and give Harry a sweet smile as he went on.

“My children became the center of my world, but even they couldn’t take her place. After a few hundred years, I stopped adopting.” He smiled wryly. “Not exactly my choice. Earth-Gov enacted some laws that prevented any heterosexual male from adopting children. Even my being obscenely wealthy couldn’t get ‘round it. Their reasoning was that according to statistics, heterosexual males were more potentially prone to abuse or molest children than any other sexual group. They took those stats from the late twentieth century, because I was born in 1980. They made a mistake, though. They aimed that stupid law specifically toward me.”

At Mack’s puzzled look, Harry smirked. “My kids took up that particular challenge. They adopted in my stead. For another couple hundred years, I was granddad to all of their adopted children. Anyway, after the magical schooling for the planet was moved to Australia, I relocated myself to Hogwarts. Since I owned the castle, they couldn’t find a legal reason to get rid of me. It took some time, but eventually they officially recognised me as caretaker and so I lived there…and I hate to say, more a shadow, if you will, than a man. That’s where I built the My Little, and I decided that if I were going to be alone for such a potentially long voyage as I’d planned, I wanted to have my best friend along, so I designed the ship’s AI with Hermione’s personality.

Now, I’ve told you how I died, but not what came after…and I don’t want you telling Hermione! When I died, I met up with some people who were very important to me…as you can probably guess, Hermione was right there in front; so were my parents and several other people I’d loved in my life. Anyway, I was given the choice of crossing over and spending the rest of whatever with them, or to come back and set things straight, before they had the chance to go balls up. That’s my mission. On the personal side, I’ve loved Hermione almost from the moment I met her, and I wanted to get to know her, before we would have met on the train. I wanted to see how she’d grown into such a wonderful, loving girl. Now I know. You and missus Granger were the reason. I know how difficult her life was, we’ve talked about it many times in our life together, and while I think I would have done some things a bit differently, I know you did the very best you could. More importantly, you both loved her with all your hearts. I did too.”

“What do you mean differently?” Mack was intrigued. Here, it was like he was asking for advice on parenting from a five year old!

“Well, to start, I would have taught her to defend herself from attack, and I would have definitely gone toe-to-toe with her teachers, to force them to keep a closer eye on her fellow students. I did that with my children, and after the local kids got the idea that they weren’t soft targets, they stopped the bullying. That’s why I’m teaching her Judo now. She won’t have to hide in the library anymore. If she comes under attack, she can defend herself with minimum harm to her opponents. While I am aware of your feelings about retribution, you’re a military man. You’ve been there…so have I. I can tell you from painful experience that turning the other cheek only gets you slapped twice.”

Mackenzie Granger flushed in shame. He knew that despite his best intentions, by not teaching his daughter basic self defence he had only made her the preferred target of bullies. He resolved to correct that…and then rethought himself. Harry had begun to teach her to defend herself. With an inward grin, he decided to wait until she had a basic grounding, and then teach her the things he knew, in case Judo wasn’t enough.

Harry paced a bit more before he said; “My task here is nearly done. I’ve arranged for the demise of one dark lord, am working on the other, and have helped to overthrow the magical government and replaced it with something a bit more egalitarian. When this is all done, I’ll still want to be friends with Hermione, and hopefully…eventually…more. Now, I understand that as a dad, you consider all males of her age to be scumbags who should be killed on sight, but I swear to you, I will never, intentionally cause her harm, and I will do my utmost to protect her from being harmed. A flash of silvery white light erupted from Harry’s chest and entered Mackenzie’s shoving the elder Granger back a bit before returning to the boy before him.

“What was that?” He asked, rubbing the place the flare entered his body. Surprisingly, it was not Harry who answered, but Hermione’s hologramme.

“That was a magical promise. Harry just swore a magical oath to protect Hermione to the best of his ability. Such a promise carries a serious penalty should it ever be broken.” The hologramme actually glared at Harry.

“What penalty?”

“Usually the offender loses his or her magic, or sometimes he or she dies.”

Mack looked like he’d been slapped.



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A/N: The Anabolic protoplaser is one of Dr. McCoy’s surgical instruments from Star Trek (TOS). The portable scanner is my extension of an ultrasound device, and the wash/vacuum system really does exist, though it’s not quite as portable as I’ve described.