Lies, Buried and Bound - A Dramione Story

Part Eight

Hermione laid down and watched her daughter play around on the floor for an hour, listening to her as she named her dolls and created impossible scenarios for them to participate in. Occasionally, Charlotte would make her hold a stuffie or pretend to be a "daddy doll" while she portrayed the "mummy" and "baby" dolls.

"'But, darling, the baby is hungry! Won't somebody feed her?' Mummy, it's your turn!" Charlotte instructed.

"Oh, erm, 'I can feed the poor baby. Here, in my pale, I've got biscuits, fruit, flasks of water, and an assortment of other goods for him.'"

Charlotte's arms fell to her side and shot a look at her mum that could rival a vexed Mrs. Weasley. Hermione couldn't help the snort that fired through her nose. "Mummy, the baby's a girl."

"Oh... 'I have an assortment of other goods for her.'"

"'Well that's darling of you, Henry. Baby, what would you like from Daddy's pale?'" She switched over to her "baby" voice. "'Biscuit! Biscuit!'" She took the invisible biscuits from her mum's hand and fed it to the littlest doll. "'Mhm! Yummy!' 'But I can make biscuits too! See?'" The eldest doll, the mother, waved her hands in the air and Charlotte made a gasping noise. "'Mummy! Mummy! How did you do that?' 'I used magic, of course!'"

Hermione tilted her head at her daughter's creativity.

"'Do more magic!'" cried Charlotte's baby doll.

"Charlotte," Hermione called. Her daughter dropped her dolls, hearing her name, and looked up. "Magic is real, you know."

Of course, Charlotte had always known this to some extent. The young girl had seen things happen that she could never explain and could never describe, even with her advanced vocabulary for a mere child her age. Her mother's memos soaring over the top of her head, her mother's quick disappearances, and the way they would travel together... it all made sense in a way that also didn't.

Yet, she still asked, "It is?"

"Come up on the bed." She patted the spot beside her and it wasn't long before Charlotte was snuggled up into her chest, waiting to hear more. "Cricket, magic has always existed but in a world that is completely separate from what we call the 'Muggle' world."

"We?" she gasped. "Do I have magic too?"

"Of course! Cricket, your mum is one of the best witches of the past generation!"

"Really? Well, you're a very pretty witch."

"Thank you, love. But there's more to the story. Long ago, there were four groups of creatures that prowled, slithered, and flew across this magical world. There were lions, eagles, badgers, and serpents."

"Mummy, what's a badger?"

This stumped Hermione. She'd forgotten she was reciting this tale to a child. "Well, it's like a really flat, er, raccoon."

"What's a - ?"

" - It's Meeko from Pocahontas."

"Oh!"

"Anyway. The lions were always a proud and brave group, the eagles were witty and intelligent, the badgers were sweet, and the serpents were sneaky."

"Which one were you, Mummy?"

She sighed, "Well, historically, I've tried to be brave and proud like the lions."

"Which one would I be?"

"I dunno, Cricket. What really matters is what you value."

"Oh. Then I want to be a badger and be sweet as honey."