Hermione Granger and the Year Hidden from Hogwarts

Chapter 28

Hermione Granger and the Year Hidden from Hogwarts

Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter 28

A/N: Was anyone surprised by Hermione's ancestry? More will be explained on exactly how these two seemingly random muggles tie back to these renowned lines, so don't fear. The explanations have been in my notes since before the first chapter was written.

April 25th, 1992

The Ravenclaw line held three vaults, though none half so big as the le Fay's. She did little more than perform a cursory glance inside after using her blood to open them. She didn't see anything resembling a diary like she had in the le Fay vault, so she put aside the idea of perusing the treasures for a later date.

Her energy was flagging quickly, and she wanted to secure an owl and wand at the minimum so she could complete owl orders without needing to be escorted here and back.

Flitwick cast several charms over her, cleaning her of blood, knitting her cuts, and cleaning her appearance of dust and debris before they stepped out into the bright alley. The sun was directly overhead, denoting a midday time, even though it felt like years since she first stepped foot in the magical world.

"Where to, Hermione?" Flitwick asked.

Her mind raced, and before she could answer, he noted her pallor. "Perhaps food is in order."

"But professor—" she began to protest. There was too much to do and too little time.

"Now, now, Hermione. I won't hear a word of protest. It's lunchtime, and the place I have in mind to take you serves a dual purpose. It serves as the transition between here and muggle London."

Hermione glanced at him. "You mean I'll be able to return without the apparition?"

Flitwick grinned at her enthusiasm. "Yes, and the barkeep, Tom, is well-acquainted with assisting muggle families such as yours, but I can show you the trick all the same. Let's eat, and you can share where you'd like to go during our meal."

Hermione bit her lip, glancing at the countless areas of interest, before she conceded.

"That's the spirit. And since at least half of today's events were my fault, I'll buy."

Hermione broke from her ever-growing mental checklist to give her professor a look. "Flitwick, you don't actually believe that do you? Every action you took was your attempt to shield me from potential consequences. There was no way to predict the turn things would take."

He shrugged, holding a door open of a dingy pub that read, "The Leaky Cauldron."

"So where does this exist in London?" Hermione asked, glancing around the dingy cream-colored surfaces of the plastered walls, her eyes naturally drawn to the high windows above the wooden beam rafters. They allowed in a cheerful ambiance to what otherwise could be considered a dark and dingy place.

The smells of cooking meat, seasoned vegetables, and something sweet made her mouth water.

"This way," he guided her to a table that magically produced menus the second they sat. "It resides on Charing Cross Road in London, and if you ever need into the alley, you'll go through the entrance we just took, only from this direction it will be a brick wall in a small storage room. I'll show you the brick you need to tap to gain entry."

They placed their meals with the waiter, and in no time at all had steaming platters of food in front of them, paired with goblets of pumpkin juice that Flitwick recommended.