Chapter Text
A Tombstone for Hermione
Prologue
It was a cold November morning, the sky was cloudy, adding to the already moody atmosphere of Highgate cemetery. She walked with her grandfather in silence, as if they were attending a real funeral. The place was absolutely beautiful; Hector couldn’t have chosen a better place to lay her old life to rest. They were dressed in black, wearing muggle clothing, expensive coats lined with fur , Hector wearing a hat and leather gloves and Hermione even had a black fascinator with a veil on the front.
She thought it was all very dramatic; she wondered if it was a pureblood thing or if Hector was going above and beyond to create her false identity. It only had been three weeks since she met her grandfather… and yet it felt like she knew him all of her life but also none at all at the same time. The potion master had secrets; she knew it; he took only a few days for him to use his contacts at the ministry to make sure Hermione Agnes Dagworth-Granger was a real Witch, with Owls and Newts scores, a birthdate and a backstory. How much blackmail did he do? The Dagworth-Granger’s were a Slytherin/Ravenclaw family after all…her being a Gryffindor made her the odd one out. She smiled, feeling suddenly a little closer to Sirius, who wasn’t even born yet.
She was now houseless so to speak, Hermione Agnes Dagworth-Granger was home schooled by her grandfather, No red and gold for the young potion apprentice.
They continued to walk towards the plot Hector had purchased.
« Why Highgate? Why not a small cemetery in the country side? » She asked.
« Because my dear, you deserve no less! Have you seen this place? It’s extraordinary! Who knew muggles could do such splendid things? » Her grandfather answered.
Hermione sighed, of course, her pureblood grandfather would be astonished that muggles could actually build nice things, not that Hector was anti-muggle or a blood purist, he just didn’t go out into the muggle world; he was rather introverted, staying locked in his ancestral home, working on new potion projects and taking care of the Most Extra Ordinary Society Of Potioneers news letter.
That itself added to the mystery of Hector Dagworth-Granger. What did the society do? The membership seemed to be exclusive, potioneers dying to be invited to join, but as far as she knew, there were no meetings or seminars hosted by it. Was she expected to take over when Hector retired? Who were the members of it? This was the 1940’s . Could a woman even join the society? She quickly added « sexism and blatant misogyny » to her pro’s and con’s list of « Accidental Time travel through old and forgotten magic. »
A fox stopped in his tracks as they walked ahead, the wild animal looking at them briefly before running away as quickly as possible. The more she looked at the park, the happier she became that he had chosen this place. It was familiar, as she used to walk through it with her parents when she was a child. Of course, the cemetery had been overgrown with nature in the 1980s, but it hadn’t changed. It was somewhat comforting to know that her grave was here, like an anchor, making it less frightening for her to have to start her life over during World War II and the rise of Grindelwald.
« It’s not far now… I can’t wait to see the final result! I paid quite a lot for it to be carved. The funeral company informed me that most of their artists were sent to the front so I had to hire some goblins who were quite offended when I asked not to charm it and that it had to have no magical trace at all, but as you know, everything has a price and if someone say’s no, you are not talking with the right person! » Hector said cheerfully,
« That sounds awfully Slytherin of you, Grandfather, are you sure you were a Ravenclaw? » Hermione teased.
« My dear, both my parents and my wife were Slytherin. Remember it, when you go out into society, it will be important to mention that your grandmother was a Selwyn! I know, I know, I too would rather stay home in the lab or the library but unfortunately, if you don’t want to end up an old lady living with her hundred cats, you will have to go mingle! »
Hermione was not biologically related to Agnes Selwyn at all, but she had to pretend to be actually related to Hector’s late wife, not that she minded, Agnes’s portrait in the library of Granger’s Hall was quite pleasant to speak to. Nothing compared to Walburga’s at Grimmauld place.
Speaking of the shrieking portrait…Hermione was now reminded that Walburga was very much alive in this time period and she probably will have to Interac with the banshee, another con to the list.
« I won’t forget Grandfather, this is my second life and I won’t waste it. »
This time around , Hermione wanted everything : The career, the family with 2,5 kids, the social life, unlike how she left things in the year 2002. Not that she was too old, she was only twenty-one after all… but Hector never failed to mention or insinuate that in this time period being a single witch at that age was somewhat unbecoming.
The truth is, she was grieving her past life, her brother Harry , who didn’t die but he stayed in the future so it was still hurting. She grieved her almost love story with Ron, whose friendship worked much better than a romantic relationship ( they tried, for two weeks, then an intervention had to be held at the Burrow, apparently, a young couple was not supposed to argue day and night at the beginning of a relationship. A « honeymoon phase » with sunshine and rainbows was supposed to happen instead. Ginny, Arthur, Harry and George were quite relieved when, at the end of the 14-day affair, they broke up and decided to remain friends. Molly cried as if she was the one who was going through the separation).
She was even grieving her maybe situationship with Theodore fucking Nott II. Maybe she could castrate his father so that he wouldn’t even be born! AH! That would teach him! As if Hermione Jean Granger was ever going to accept being somebody’s mistress!
She shook her head as her grandfather stopped in his tracks. This was it, the moment she would let Hermione Jean Granger go.
« It’s perfect, isn’t it? » He said almost whispering.
Before them stood the statue of a little girl around the age of five, wearing a dress, sitting crossed legged on a stone pillar, reading a book. The same curls but with little bows carved in it, the same face shape, the same nose… Her eyes inspected the tombstone where a plaque was engraved the nickname she hated so much : The Golden Girl.
« My curls were not that tame at that age! But you are right; it is perfect. »
« Any word on our dearly departed? » Hector teased.
She took a deep breath, focusing on the soft noises coming from the surrounding nature and wildlife; the birds were singing. It was so peaceful, what could she say to herself? How could one start over in the past when they didn’t wish to time travel at all in the first place?
« I know it’s not logical to say sorry to yourself as a statue, but I am, I am sorry that our childhood ended the moment we got into the magical world. I am sorry that we didn’t know how to make friends, I am sorry that we didn’t know how to fit in, I am sorry that we grew up believing we were a muggle born and not knowing about Hector, I am sorry that we had to erase our parents’ memories to protect them, but none of it I regret! »
She had to take another deep breath in and out… tears going down her cheeks silently, Hector putting his hand on her shoulder to offer comfort.
« I have to let you go Hermione Jean Granger, you will always be a part of me, but Hermione Agnes Dargworth-Granger has to rise, I am sure you understand, that’s what we do, we fix things, we found out about the basilisk, we helped Sirius and Buckbeak escape, we helped Harry through the tournament, we took care of Umbridge, we defended Hogwarts…we found the Horcruxes… But now I have to change everything so we won’t have to fix it. I let you rest; you deserve it. »
She stayed silent contemplating the statue; Hector didn’t say a word.
« I am letting you go so I can take care of Tom Marvolo Riddle. »