Escape ↣ Harmione

Chapter Eight

Minerva had delivered Hermione's letter, so was able to apparate them both. The neighbourhood was affluent, not overly so but gave off an air of comfortable living without snobbishness. Severus looked around casually noting the cars. There were some badges here he recognised from his childhood. The cars that seemed dreamlike they were so far out of reach, and here nearly everyone had one. Mercedes, Audi, the big German brands that spoke of quality and money.

The house was, well it was a house, it was nice Severus supposed. It was large with a tidy front garden, the windows were clean, and it looked loved.

The man who answered the door was clearly Miss Granger's father; the curly brown hair was a dead giveaway. He invited them in, introducing himself as John and his wife as Helen, offering them a seat as Helen came through with tea.

If Severus had ever wanted to know what the Gryffindor Princess was going to look like when she was his age, he only had to look at her mother. She was taller than Miss Granger he thought, but only slightly, and presumably Miss Granger might yet grow. The hair was different, but the lines of her body were a dead on match. Her mother was trim and curvaceous, and she oozed competence and warmth.

Her father was tall and watching them with suspicion writ large on his face. His jaw set in a way that both Professors had seen before in class when Miss Granger's patience was challenged, or when she set herself on something she expected to be difficult.

Miss Granger was her parent's daughter.

"So?" John bit out. He'd sat at his wife's behest, but his back was straight and his gaze firm. Helen sat next to him leaning on him slightly. Comfort or warning? Time would tell. "Spit it out then," he said shortly.

Minerva looked slightly taken back at his abrupt tone.

"What John is saying, somewhat poorly," Helen broke in. "Is that when Hermione was petrified in her second year for six weeks, we were told only that she'd had an accident and was physically well. This was the year after she was attacked by a troll, of which we were not informed. You must see that we've been told she had not arrived as expected, followed by a week of silence. Only then to have not one, but two of her Professors turn up on our doorstep. I understand you are her Head of House Professor McGonagall, and thus are responsible for her well-being." Helen turned and looked at Severus, her gaze was piercing, it was as if she saw straight through him. "You must be her Potions Professor? Since she is missing, she clearly doesn't need potions. So I presume you are here in your other role?" she asked, her gaze not wavering.

He exchanged a glance with Minerva. Not only was Miss Granger her parent's daughter; they were bloody well clued in, and sharp as tacks. He could understand their point of view, as an escalation, it looked pretty bad to have two Professors turn up on your doorstep when petrification had netted a bland, generic owl. He decided to open his mouth and save Minerva, who looked like she'd been slapped. Verbally, he supposed she had.

"You may be aware that your daughter has made friends with Mr Potter and thus drawn the attention of the Dark Lord, or He who must not be named," he said.

"Yes, we know about Harry and Tom. Hermione told us. I hardly think that in a society with as many people prejudiced against her blood status, her friends would be of consequence. We were under the impression that your school pandered to the bullying if not actively encouraged it," Helen replied arching a sceptical eyebrow.

Minerva choked on her tea. "I can assure you Hogwarts does not pander to bullies or prejudice in regards to blood status," she said firmly.

"Really?" Helen asked, causing Severus to wince internally at her tone. "So when my daughter was left crying because she was called mudblood by an eleven-year-old you stepped in and acted, did you? Or when she wrote and asked if she could stop being a witch, if she could come home because she loved her parents and didn't want to go to a school where they were considered less than dirt, you said something? Or the time when the threats to students of her birth status were scrawled on the walls in chicken's blood. The school stepped in, did it? What about the time she was hexed in the corridors, between classes, causing her teeth to grow? Did you offer an appropriate response? Made sure she received medical assistance? Didn't leave her to flee down the corridor crying?" Then Severus did wince, but Helen Granger wasn't finished. "Or the time a teacher, who punished students who stood up to her poor teaching practices, by making those students use a blood quill during detentions to write lines. An item that was outlawed by your society no less stopped that, did you?"