Hermione Granger and the Year Hidden from Hogwarts

Chapter Three

Hermione Granger and the Year Hidden from Hogwarts

Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed. Your comments keep me inspired.

Chapter 3 - October 30th, 1985

Hermione glanced down at the crinkled pamphlet, wondering for the thousandth time if they were making the right choice. Outside, rain continued to fall, turning the dreary chill into something downright miserable to be out and about in.

She shivered, stuffing her hands into her parka as her breath fogged the glass.

"Where did you say we needed to turn?" Dad asked, glancing over at Mum and upsetting an oncoming cab as he drifted into the wrong lane. "Bollocks," he gasped, correcting his aim.

"Richard," Mum warned slowly.

"I know, I know, honeybun. Just, give me a break. We've had a rough go of it these past few days, yeah?"

Mum sighed. "I suppose. And you were supposed to turn back there at Euston Square."

"What?" he cried, swerving more violently this time and getting some angry retorts from neighboring vehicles. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I did," Mum defended, grabbing the windowsill handle.

"Dad!" Hermione cried, falling over the back seat while searching for something to hold.

"No, you didn't," Dad argued.

The car adjacent to theirs laid on the horn, the driver flipping a rather rude gesture.

Eyes round, Hermione braced her feet on her Mum's backrest, wedging herself still.

"Hold on, tootsie roll," Dad cautioned before cranking down his window. "Let me over you pigheaded, stubborn marshmallow!"

"Yes, I did," Mum continued, as if apart from all the chaos happening, and calmly picking up the thread of conversation from earlier. "I said, 'Dear, our turn's coming up, just up there," and you said, 'That's nice, honeybun. Hey, tootsie roll, did you hear about the evil chicken? It laid deviled eggs.'"

Hermione momentarily forgot their mortal peril to cast her mum a drop-jawed look at how eerily well she'd mimicked the sole male in the car.

Dad leaned more into the role of a gaping fish, his mouth closing and opening as he spluttered out, "You should've warned me closer to the turn."

"When?" Mum regripped her hold, calm as a cucumber as the wieldy station wagon seemed to tilt on its axis. "It was the next street. Should I have screamed it at the top of my lungs right as we were passing it?"

"Sure, why not?" Dad laughed. "Okay, enough of this. Hold on to your bonnets, ladies!"

Hermione whimpered.

Their car made a daring cut between three lanes of traffic. Hermione closed her eyes, hearing the ominous sounds of horns blaring louder, but by some miracle, they made it.

Dad flipped on the blinker and merged calmly on the side road that would backtrack them to their destination. "So," he chirped. "Since we have some time to kill, let's talk more about how you think you would disappoint us by helping out that little girl."

Hermione shifted in her seat.

"I agree," Mum chimed in. "Also, let's discuss how you were so amazed that you thought this place could 'fix' you as if you're a broken toy."

Hermione fidgeted with the edge of her jumper. "But you never liked it when I talked about ghosts. You were only happy when I kept them a secret."

Her parents shared a heavy look.