"So what happened in the hall means that I am, at the age of eleven, nearly twelve, married to Harry. Well for some reason I think that might not be as scary as it sounds. I have a husband to look after, but at least we will have plenty of time to get to know each other, just as soon as we are shown our rooms," Hermione said after the headmaster had bid them goodbye and they were standing at the door.
"Your trunks have been sent up to your dormitories, if you ask one of the prefects they will show you the way to your towers." Dumbledore said as he walked toward his own quarters.
Hermione turned back into the room. "Excuse me sir, but it says in Hogwarts a History that married couples get their own quarters. If we are married as you say then obviously we should be treated just like any other married couple. Now according to Hogwarts a History each tower has several married quarters, if you could just let us know which one will be ours."
Harry felt a sudden burst of pride in his wife, the woman chosen for him by the fates, he saw the fire, passion, and determination in her, this was the part of Hermione that had been lost during her twenty years as a Weasley.
Dumbledore stopped in his tracks "Hogwarts a History, it says that does it?" he asked.
"Yes, well as headmaster you have no doubt read it and…" Hermione stopped speaking as the headmaster blushed a little.
"Yes well, that is to say, Hogwarts a History eh? Married quarters? Er, if you could just wait in the Gryffindor common room. I will of coarse have your head of house come and show you to your rooms," now off you go Dumbledore muttered.
'I never knew anyone actually read that book,' Dumbledore thought 'still Harry will be so much happier there than with those evil Dursleys'.
Harry was just pulling the door closed when Hermione stopped him and barged back in to the heads office, her face was turning red and Harry could almost feel the steam coming from her ears. "YOU KNEW!" she shouted at Dumbledore. "YOU KNEW AND YOU DID NOTHING!"
Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore headmaster of Hogwarts, head of the Wizengamont, greatest wizard alive, found himself whirling to face Mrs Hermione Jane Potter and it had nothing to do with him. Looking down he found his feet at least two feet from the floor. He could feel a powerful magic that enveloped him and drew him closer to one really angry eleven year old witch.
"Hermione!" Harry was saying as he felt the surge of power leave her "Hermione, please put the headmaster down."
Harry's calming voice reached Hermione and she turned to look at him. "He knows about the Dursleys and how they treat you," she almost wept.
Dumbledore was actually feeling a little scared by her power and realised he needed to say something before she got any angrier than she was and completely lost control. "Harry, Hermione is correct, I do know that the Dursleys did not wish you to attend this school. I also know they never showed you much love, and I apologise for that but it is the safest place for you to be," Dumbledore admitted hoping his declaration of the truth might calm Hermione.
Seconds later he fell back to the floor, as Hermione pointed to Harry. "Take that shirt off Harry," she commanded.
Harry never got the chance to take his shirt off as his clothes removed themselves from his torso and fell to the floor.
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One Hundred And Forty Nearly Twelve (Completed)
Fanfiction142 years of aged Harry, goes back in time in the past, to become eleven once again.