Chapter Text
Six-year-old Harry James Potter trailed along behind his aunt Petunia as she cooed over his older cousin. He had to walk carefully because his shoes were too large for his small feet because they were Dudley’s cast-offs. Somehow, even Dudley’s feet were fat.
Harry had overheard his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon talking about Dudley’s doctor’s visit. The doctor had told the Dursleys that Dudley was unhealthily overweight, and encouraged them to make sure to get him out to the playgrounds so that he had more exercise. Now, while, of course, the Dursleys did not believe Dudley was in any way less than perfect, they chose to at least try to get Dudley to the park to exercise.
Vernon Dursley had decided that since he had no reason to exercise he would not be going. Harry had worried for a minute that would mean that Harry would stay locked in the cupboard until his aunt and cousin returned. However, he was such Harry had heard his aunt and uncle talking about the latest doctor visit, and while they didn’t believe the doctor that Dudley was too fat, they still decided he should have to the playground to get more exercise. However, his uncle Vernon saw no reason why he should have to exercise, so only his Aunt was there taking Dudley—and Harry, of course, although he knew he was an afterthought.
“If you get lost, I’m not looking for you–so hurry up.” Aunt Petunia called out sharply.
Harry shoved up his glasses and sped up his walking a bit as they approached the playground. Aunt Petunia stopped on the edge of the playground arguing with Dudley, who was whining he wanted to go home to eat and watch the telly.
Unnoticed, he took the rare opportunity to play while he could. Harry ran toward the playground, already excited even before his hands grasped the metal bars of the climber. He climbed up as high as he could– to the very top– and perched precariously without any fear. The wind whistled through his hair, making it even messier than usual. It felt exhilarating being up this high.
“Be careful or you’ll fall.” A girlish voice whispered far below him. Harry looked down to see a girl with a large tangle of brown hair. He hadn’t met that many people who he thought may have a messier head of hair than him, so she immediately caught his attention.
“It’s not that high.” He said, looking down at her. “Come see. You can see the whole world from here.”
“I like the little piece of it I can see here just fine.” She replied, a little wrinkle of worry between her brows as she stared up at him.
Harry looked down at her for a few seconds, then judging the distance not too great a tumble jumped down, bending his knees so he could land in a roll. He heard her sharp inhale before something grabbed him, holding him from touching the ground.
Harry blinked, looking down at his feet, which were floating about two inches above the ground, and then back at the girl whose face had gone pale. After another second, he hit the ground with a soft oompf, and the girl with bushy hair whipped around to run away.
Harry was quicker, his hand snapping out to grab her elbow. “Wait please.”
The girl turned back to him; he had thought at first from her serious expression and caution she was older than him, but now up close with her making a scared face Harry saw that she was probably the same age as him–or close to it.
“How did you do that?”
“I didn’t do anything!”
She yanked at her elbow, and he let her go, holding up his hands pleadingly. “Don’t go, please. I really need to know…”
The girl looked away from him, her eyes scanning the playground. “Know what?”
“Um. If you… I mean I….I mean….” Harry stuttered, not sure how to say it, and she turned toward him curiously.
“You’re not scared of me?”
“Why would I be scared of you?” She waved her hand toward the ground, wordlessly referencing how he had frozen in the air for a brief second.
“Can I show you something?”
She nodded hesitantly, still not speaking, and Harry looked around, spotting Dudley sulking near Petunia, and moved away towards the underside of the playground, where they couldn’t be easily spotted. The girl followed him slowly, her eyes curious.
He could feel his heart beating hard as he found them a small secluded spot amongst the crowd. Harry had never met anyone who could do strange things — like he did accidentally sometimes.
He was eager to show her—they were the same. His hand trembled as he crouched down and reached out for a rock. “Look.”
Float rock. Float. “Float.” He whispered, concentrating.
Her eyes had widened when he spoke and fastened on the rock, waiting tensely. It remained still in his hand.
Please.
Please, I need to show her.
We’re the same.
Her face fell as they stayed there with nothing happening, and she took the tiniest step backward. “It’s not nice to make fun of—”
The rock flew up into the air from his palm, twirling briefly in a figure-eight before dropping back to the ground.
“You’re like me.” She said with the same wonder that had rushed through him when she had frozen him in the air, stopping him from hitting the ground. “What’s your name?”
“Harry Potter.”
She gave him a crooked smile, her teeth a little snaggled. “Hermione Granger. Pleased to meet you.”
Harry grinned back at her and held out his hand. Her smile widened as she reached out, her hand slipping into his to hold on tight. His hand tingled where hers touched it as if he could feel the strangeness inside both of them reaching out–like to like.
“Can we—” Her voice wobbled a little bit, and her eyes dropped from him to where they were still holding hands. “Can we be friends?”
“Best friends.”
Hermione’s smile came back brighter as she repeated. “Best friends.”
1 year later…
Mrs. Arabella Figg clutched Tibbles, her half kneazle nervously as she walked up the steps to a large, well-appointed light blue house.
She had spied Harry Potter getting into the vehicle with these muggles after observing somewhat of a ruckus at 4 Privet Drive. Suspiciously Petunia and Vernon Dursley had flung clothes out of their house after the muggle couple who had clutched Harry and a young girl who looked close to him in age.
Arabella needed to find out what was happening and then go report to Dumbledore as soon as possible. This was definitely not what he wanted to happen when he had set her to make sure Harry remained with the Dursleys.
Sucking a deep breath, she raised her hand and knocked rapidly.
Harry froze against the wall of the closet in his brand new room where he had been playing with Hermione as rapid knocks echoed through the house. It made Harry feel too strange to play in the enormous bedroom the Grangers had given him, so he and Hermione carried their toys into the small closet where he felt more comfortable.
“It’s okay. I promise.” Hermione leaned over to pat him reassuringly. “My mum and dad won’t let anyone take you away.”
Harry didn’t say anything but Hermione could see how pale he seemed even in the dim light of the closet, so she wrapped her hand around his, poking her fingers through his so their hands were tightly locked together.
“Want to go see who it is?”
Harry nodded, and they got up to creep slowly toward the front door. Arabella spotted them as soon as they stepped into sight beyond where the woman of the house was blocking her entrance. She stood a little on her tiptoes to get a good view of them.
“Excuse me.” Helen Granger said as the strange woman with an even stranger-looking cat tried to peer over her shoulder into her house. She turned back and spotted the kids, and without further hesitation, called reinforcements. “Richard!”
The stomp of boots approached as Helen heard her husband moving through the house.
“Oh but, I just wanted to see the boy–I uh–is he going home soon?” Arabella stuttered under the stern gaze of the muggle woman. Helen opened her mouth to respond when her daughter beat her to it.
“Harry is staying here with me! He’s my bestest friend, and he’s staying here with me!”
“Hermione, calm down,” Helen called urgently over her shoulder, hearing the tone in her daughter's voice that said she was working herself into a fit. When Hermione worked herself up is when the strange things happened and Helen didn’t want any stranger witnessing one of those scenes.
“Do you need some water firebug?” Richard Granger asked his daughter, but his eyes were on the stranger at the door as he came to stand by his wife.
Hermione felt Harry’s hand tighten on hers even though he hadn’t said a word, his shoulders tense as he stared at the woman in the doorway as if he recognized her. Was that stranger going to try to take Harry away from her?
Hermione glared at the suspicious woman - ignoring the completely cute cat she carried– and promised fervently with every fiber of her being. “I swear,” Hermione began, and little lines of golden magic started growing along their entwined hands, unnoticed by anyone but the woman at the door.
Arabella watched in astonishment as golden strands of magic emerged from both the girl and the boy, binding their hands together as the girl - little witch- continued. Squib Arabella Figg may be—but she recognized the magic of an unbreakable vow. Bloody hell. “Stop! You don’t know what you’re doing!”
Arabella tried to push past the muggles who were still blocking her way, but the male muggle firmly set her back. Panic raced through her as she watched the golden lines of magic tightened as the little witch continued.
“I SWEAR, no one is taking Harry away from me!” Hermione finished with a roar.
“That’s you,” Richard said to his wife referencing his daughter's possessiveness as he held back the weird woman who was trying to break into their home.
Helen shot him a quick glare before turning her gaze on the woman. “I don’t know who you are and I don’t care, but you will get yourself gone or I will be ringing the police!”
The strange woman had stopped trying to get into their house, though, and instead backed up with her eyes wide.
“It’s too late now. I’ll have to go tell him. Oh, no. I don’t know what he will do.” And with that, the strange woman with the stranger cat spun and hurried away.
Richard and Helen looked at each other in concern before shutting and locking the door and facing the children. The boy was pale but composed, his hand tightly entwined with their daughters. Their daughter, on the other hand, was red-faced and breathing hard as if she was about to start a fight.
“No one is going anywhere. We are a family and we’re staying a family.” Helen told the children before making eye contact with her husband.
Richard nodded at his wife to let her know the message received. “That’s right. Now you two go play and don’t worry.”
They both waited as the children slowly moved back upstairs and were out of sight. Then they waited a few minutes more.
Finally, Richard spoke. “Maybe we should take a trip.” Helen chewed on her lip thinking.
“Stephen King is having a signing in New York.”
“Oh god. You’re not still on that?”
“Hermione was born September 19, 1979, and then it just so happens this man publishes a novel about a girl with powers almost exactly a year later? He knows something, I’m sure of it.”
“She only set things on fire once!”
Richard shrugged stubbornly, set on the idea that there had to be some big conspiracy about the children. “That woman knew something–and you heard what she said about telling ‘him’ and that ‘he’ wouldn’t be happy. Those people claimed he was their family, but look at how they treated him–the government probably placed him with them so they could experiment on him—”
“Richard!”
“Fine. Forget King. There’s something fishy going on here with the boy– we managed to keep Hermione away from any public incidents - who knows if the same is true of the boy?”
“What do you think we should do, then?”
“Disappear.”
Helen thought of when she had walked into the bedroom they had set up for the boy and seen them playing. The small toy figurines had been moving by themselves and floating as the kids giggled. They had to protect them.
“Fine. Let’s disappear.”