Please forgive any typos. My glasses got eaten by a lawn-mower yesterday and I spent the entire fic about four inches away from the screen.
As always, I own nothing, Harry Potter or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Though, I'm not sure how'd I'd feel about owning anything in this one. Apologies, dear dogbertcarroll! http://www.tthfanfic.org/Challenge-3935
sparked an idea that got away. It also promptly disappeared
, so there may not ever be a second or third chapter. To that end, they're all going to be self-contained.
And now, without further adieu-
“I’ve also modified my parents’ memories so that they’re convinced they’re really called Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that their life’s ambition is to move to Australia , which they have now done. That’s to make it more difficult for Voldemort to track them down and interrogate them about me – or you, because unfortunately, I’ve told them quite a bit about you.
“Assuming I survive our hunt for the Horcruxes, I’ll find Mum and Dad and lift the enchantment. If I don’t – well, I think I’ve cast a good enough charm to keep them safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wilkins don’t know that they’ve got a daughter, you see.”
- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Book 7
A tear trickled down Hermione’s cheek. “I’m sorry Mum, Dad.” she whispered as she turned away.
Her da lowered the newspaper he’d been reading and cocked his head. “Honey, did our daughter just attempt to modify our memories?”
” Hermione whirled.
Her mother looked up from the magazine she’d been perusing, sprawled on the couch. “Hm. Monica Wil… yes, dear, I believe she did. Do you have any idea why?”
“But that’s im- I did the charms right, I know I did!” Hermione cried. “Stupify! Obliviate!
Her da shook his head. “You all right, love?”
Her mum snorted. “I’ve had worse from a gröntlakhe and you know it. Hermione, dear, what’s wrong?”
“I think it’s that Voldemort chap.” Her da said, putting down his newspaper.
“The one who’s been trying to kill Harry all these years?”
“That’s the one. Maybe he’s finally got off his ass?”
Her mum snorted again. “Had to have found it first. He’s lost, what, six times to an underage kid?”
“Seven, if you count that first night.”
“Oh, right! Should it? I mean, his mom kinda kicked ass and took names on that one.”
“And nobody gets in the way of an angry mom. Six, then. What’s he done this time, my ‘mione?”
Hermione stared at them, her tear-stained face gone slack in shock. “You- you’re- how?
Her dad glanced at her mum. “Mitkschlin infection, back in Africa. All your mum’s fault.”
Her mum sat up. “It was not!”
“You shot me with a gun!”
“It was a tranquilizer dart!”
“It still knocked me over the edge of that cliff!”
“Hey, you survived the fall!”
“By falling into a pit of stoned tigers,
thank you very much! Stoned horny
tigers. I’ve never been so traumatized in my entire life, and that’s including the she-mantis in high school!”
“Not even the-“
“You swore not to mention that ever
“Monica Wilkins didn’t.”
“You can’t use fake identities if you remember your real one!”
Hermione looked from her mum to her da to her mum to her da again. “…what?”
Maybe it was the stunned disbelief in her voice that made her da take pity on her. “I was in Africa looking for… well, kids who needed my help, and your mum decided she needed to get laid.”
“It was so totally not-
well, maybe that was part of it, but I’d been waiting for you for three years!
Three years! You were supposed to be in Africa for six months
, and I had this plan when you got back where I’d hide in your room wearing a bow and n-“
“Leeeet’s not traumatize our little girl with a boatload more TMI than her brain can handle, Dawn. She’s already got enough issues between Ron and Harry and Voldie, and all that UST between her and that blonde.”
“US- wait, which blonde? And what’s UST stand for?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Her mum said brightly, patting her head.
“Anyway, what’s the old overbum done recently?” said her mum, ignoring her protests. “I mean, you didn’t try erasing anyone’s memories when all those people disappeared last year.”
Hermione opened her mouth, paused for a minute, and then slumped. “We discovered how he survived all these years- he made horcruxes.”
“Horcruxes. He split his soul and-”
“Son of a gun.
” Her dad hissed.
“Dawn- Burundi, about sixteen years back- the Vutu morxan magic, remember?”
Her mum sucked her breath in. “Na’a-korliks.
He’s made a na’a-korlik!”
“Well, maybe. Hopefully. How many times did he split his soul, honey?”
Her dad sat back in relief. “Well. A Na’ti-korlik, then. He must have missed the prime number theory of threes.”
“Idiot.” Her mum spat. “Probably doesn’t even know what he’s dealing with, especially if the magelets are calling them horcruxes. Mione, honey, how many times do they normally split?”
“Er- no-one’s even done it more than once. It’s forbidden, forgotten. Most people don’t even know what they are.”
“So he’s not trying for thirteen or twenty-three.” Her mum let out of breath. “That’s good. Still, why are you suddenly wiping memories?”
“We’re going to destroy them.” Hermione blurted out. “And he’s going to come after us- after everyone.” Her voice caught. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. That he couldn’t find you.”
“Aw, honey, come here.” Her mum opened her arms and pulled Hermione into a tight embrace. “Mummy’s going to be fine. We’re not going anywhere, and the stupid ‘ol Moldievort isn’t going to get anyone.” She glanced over at her husband. “Think it’s time?”
Her da sighed. “Yeah. I really wanted to let her handle this dork alone. I mean, nothing keeps you sharp like a dark lord, even if he is a wanker.”
“Oh, like you haven’t said worse.”
“Not in front of our daughter! I’ve been fucking pristine.”
Hermione let out a choked laugh. Her mum hugged her. “Ah, see, that’s better, isn’t it? Nothing like a good laugh before an apocalypse.”
“Or some mockery.” Her dad added.
“Wait.” Hermione sat up and wiped her face. “An apocalypse? Mum…”
“Figure of speech.” Her mum replied quickly. “Besides, the snake-bred doesn’t really count. I mean, he’s spent, what, twenty years trying to wipe out England? No summonings, no vortexes, weapons of mass destruction- not even a good mind control broadcast. The brat’s small-time, like a rich boy trying to take over a dinky one-horse town. I’m honestly surprised someone hasn’t just ripped his heart out.”
“To be fair, he’s got the whole half-immortality thing going.” Her dad interjected.
“Yeah, that is pretty annoying. So! What are we going to do about it?”
“You keep saying that word.” Her dad replied. “I do not think it means what you think it means.”
Her mum leaned over and smacked the back of his head. “Behave!”
“Ow!” Her da rubbed his head. “It’s not my fault! Ever since that kid bit me-“
Her mum huffed. “For the last time, there is no such thing as pedathropy!
Her da grinned. “Were-kidism.”
Her mum smacked him again.
Enough already, woman! We’ve got plans to make! Now, what are we doing about this guy, Hermione?”
“We’re not going to leave you.” Her mum said firmly. “So obviously we’ve got to work out a plan of action. What do you want to do? You said you were going to destroy the horcruxes, would you us to help you with that?”
“But you’re muggles!” Hermione blurted out. She immediately covering her mouth, burning red.
“Yeah, hon.” Her da grinned. “Wouldn’t want these old fogeys to crimp her style.”
“Muggle doesn’t mean old, dear,”
“It doesn’t? Dang it, I miss all the new slang!”
“I mean, you don’t have magic. You’d be defenseless.” Hermione said worriedly.
Her father… smiled
, for lack of a better word. If what Cheshires did could be called a smile. Her mother just snorted. “You’re obviously in too much shock to have noticed anything odd about what we’ve said. Don’t worry about us, dear. Just remember to breathe when it finally hits you, and for goodness’ sake, don’t
remember at a critical moment.”
Her da smiled softly and shrugged. “Don’t worry, Mione. It’ll be fine. So, no hanging out with the cool kids, huh? Whaddya think, dear, the usual snipe hunt?”
Her mother smiled demurely. “I think that would be wonderful, dear. It’s been years since I had a good scrap.”
“Excellent!” he turned to Hermione. “Okay, so, you go do your thing, Hermione, and- wait, did you pack extra socks?”
“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question! You have no idea
how many times I wished for an extra pair of socks down in Mozambique! And underwear- always pack fresh underwear, Mione, you-“
Hermione snorted. “Ya, dad, you never know when you might need emergency pants.”
He turned to her mum. “She got that snort from you, you know.”Thwack.