Chapter Twelve: Surprises

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Chapter 12: Surprises

"Finite Incantatem."

They waited expectantly for some sign of success. Silence hung over them heavily as their eyes met in the flickering candlelight; the tension in the room was almost palpable.

Nothing happened.

Hermione felt no different. There were no lights, no radiance, no warmth – absolutely nothing. She sat rigidly, as if sitting still and quiet could make a difference by sheer strength of will alone. A tear gradually formed at the corner of her eye. Severus gathered her in his arms and prepared to provide his strength to salve her disappointment.

She sobbed into his shirt for a few minutes and then composed herself with difficulty. "I was so sure that it would work. It must have been a spell. All the information pointed to the same answer. I'll just..." She stopped speaking abruptly as the book they had been using flew into her hand, narrowly missing Severus' head on its way past.

"What the hell?" he barked.

"I have no idea. I was just thinking about that book when it... er... arrived," she explained.

"Quick, think of something else you want. A quill, perhaps?" he suggested.

Immediately, her favourite quill flew across the room to her.

"Try something different. Levitate the quill," he ordered.

The quill hovered gently between them, spinning slowly at first, then more rapidly in one direction after another in an elegant gravity-defying dance. Next, it transfigured seamlessly into a glorious butterfly which fluttered around the room before resuming its original shape and coming to rest on the desk. Hermione's expression was a confused blend of relief, happiness, and awe.

"All right. You can stop showing off now," Severus said to the ecstatic witch.

"What just happened?" she asked. "How could I do that?"

"I believe you just performed some incredibly complex, wandless, nonverbal magic, my dear," he replied.

"Oh. I realise that," she said. "I have done wandless magic before, and I mastered nonverbal spells back in sixth year, if you remember, Professor. But I have only ever been able to perform very simple actions wandlessly, such as Summoning objects, never anything like that."

"I have a theory." He explained, "I suspect that the spell which bound your magic was non-selective. It bound all your magic – the normal magic that you had already expressed and the latent magic that would probably never have developed. Most witches and wizards have a capacity for magic much greater than they ever use, in much the same way as we only use a fraction of our brainpower. The more powerful amongst us are either lucky to have been born with a higher degree of magical talent or have simply learned to use a larger portion of our innate potential.

"I suspect that by ending the spell, I have not only released your expressed magic but also your latent magic and that now you are one of the fortunate few able to utilise your entire magical ability. Albus Dumbledore was one other of recent times. Riddle was another, which is why they were evenly matched in a duel."

His companion sat quietly while she assimilated the information he had given her. It made perfect sense, but the thought of so much power also frightened her.

"Does this mean that I...?" she started.

"No, Hermione. It does not mean you will become either an evil megalomaniac or a manipulative old goat. You are who you are, and no amount of magic will change that. It is not the power we have that determines who we become, but our choices," he reassured her firmly.

"I remember Harry telling me that Dumbledore had said something similar to him when he was fretting about whether he would become like Tom Riddle," she said softly.

"And, don't forget, you can still only perform magic if you understand it," he advised. "You could move and transfigure the quill because those spells are similar to those you already know. I imagine that you will not be able to do something that you have not studied before, although, knowing you, that may not amount to much," he said wryly. "I suggest that tomorrow you run through some of the spells you know well before we decide whether you will need a wand at all. We will also need to retrieve your parents and pay a visit to some people who are missing you very much."

She looked up at him anxiously. "I hadn't even thought of them in my excitement. I feel awful! Now that they should all recognise me again, I can let them know I am still alive. I hope they forgive me for taking so long to get back to them."

"I am certain that once the initial shock is over, they will welcome you with open arms," he declared. Looking her over carefully, he asked, "How are you feeling? Have you any ill-effects from the reversing of the spell?"

"I'm feeling terrific," she replied with a huge grin. "And that awful nagging headache has completely disappeared. I'm still confused though. Why weren't there any lights or warm feelings as there was when Riddle bound my magic?"

"I suspect they were related to the potion taking effect as the spell was cast. Remember, the light surrounding you changed to the green colour of the potion before it appeared to retreat back into your body. I think the interaction of the spell with the potion caused the display, although I wouldn't discount a little showmanship on Riddle's part either," Severus postulated, regarding her seriously. "Now, we have plans to make. Hot chocolate?" he suggested.

***

After some discussion and a lot of planning, they decided to retrieve Hermione's parents first. The trip to Australia would take very little time with the aid of an International Portkey, which Severus would arrange in the morning. Once her parents' memories were restored and they had been filled in on the events of the past year or so, she could leave them to make any necessary arrangements before returning home. She would then be free to join her friends at Grimmauld Place for as long as she wanted without feeling guilty about her parents. As she prepared for bed, she remembered the last part of their conversation with a smile.

"I suppose you will be moving out, now that you can return to your friends," Severus had said diffidently whilst gathering up the cups.

"Do you want me to?" she had asked directly, looking him in the eye.

"No," he had murmured. "You don't need to leave. I meant it when I said this house was your home as well, as long as you want it to be."

"Well, Severus, I think you are stuck with me then. I don't plan on moving back home with my parents, and six months living with the boys in that tent was quite enough for me. I don't know what my future holds, but for now I am quite happy living right here with you," she had declared, hugging him tightly.

Hermione knew that she had made the right decision. Whatever happened in the next few months, she felt strongly that home was right there, at Spinner's End. She casually extinguished the lights by merely thinking the word Nox and went to sleep.

***

While Severus was occupied at the Ministry organising a Portkey, Hermione busied herself trying out various charms and spells. There appeared to be nothing that she had already learned that she could not do simply by concentrating on the spell required. She realised that she must have subconsciously Accio'ed the book the evening before, as just thinking about an item did not bring it to hand. Just as well, she thought, it could get embarrassing if everything I desired just came to me at a whim. Visions of entering a bookshop and being inundated by flying books had her in a fit of helpless laughter for a few moments.

"I have been thinking," she said to Severus upon his return, Portkey in pocket. "I need a wand."

"I know," he replied. "It would not do for most people to be aware of your abilities. For some it would be threatening, and it may prove dangerous if the wrong person were to take it into their head to try and exploit your power. I was considering the problem while I was, and I believe I have a solution." He produced a wand from his back pocket. "Take a look at this," he told her.

"Where did you get it, and what is it made of?" she asked, intrigued by the slightly unusual wand.

"Harrod's toy store, Dress-Ups Department," he answered.

"Absolutely. Bloody. Brilliant!" she exclaimed. "A true magical wand is likely to interfere with my innate magic, but this toy one, although it looks surprisingly real, would be purely a prop."

"With a little judicious change in colour and texture, and some 'wear' applied in the right places, I think it would pass muster to all but a wand expert," he elaborated.

"And if it didn't work for anyone else, they would just assume it was incompatible with their magic," she added.

"Indeed."

"Did I ever tell you that you are an extremely intelligent and devious wizard?" Hermione asked.

"No. But feel free whenever you have the urge," he encouraged. "We Slytherins need positive reinforcement as well, you know."

***

Travelling to Australia was uneventful. Severus had arranged for the Portkey to activate at midnight, which would be mid-morning at their destination. The device performed efficiently, if a little nauseatingly for Hermione, and they were deposited in the International Portkey Arrival Lounge, which was situated in a magically hidden corner of Sydney Airport. A friendly Australian wizard wearing a brightly coloured, light set of robes, directed them to the Domestic Floo Network access points. Hermione scanned the list of destinations and directed her companion to the Floo for Brisbane. "Mum always wanted to live somewhere warmer," she explained.

Upon arrival at the Wizarding shopping area beside Victoria Park in central Brisbane, Hermione and Severus took a brief respite from the unaccustomed heat in the local pub, The Confunded Crocodile, and ordered two butterbeers.

"This is cold." Severus stated the obvious.

"And very fizzy," giggled Hermione who was having trouble with bubbles getting up her nose.

"I can tell you two are Poms," laughed the bartender. "Apart from your accents, we all know you lot like your butterbeer warm and flat! Name's Bruce, by the way. What are two nice magical folks like you doing in the Colonies?"

"Pleased to meet you, Bruce. My name is Hermione, and this is Severus. We are here to visit someone living in a Muggle area, Shorncliffe, although at present we don't have any idea where that is," replied Hermione, shaking the cheerful man's hand.

"That's over on the beach," he replied. "The best way to get there would be by Muggle taxi, if you haven't been there before. I can change your Wizarding money for Australian Muggle currency, if you like," he offered helpfully.

"Thanks, that would be useful." Hermione quickly made the exchange once they had finished their drinks. She caught Severus' arm as he was about to leave the pub and waved her hand down his body, transfiguring his robes into a pair of jeans and an open-necked white shirt. "Turn around," she ordered. He obediently complied. With a flick she had the slightly low-slung jeans fitting neatly to his slim form. "There, that's better," she declared. "You know, you should wear jeans more often, they do show you off nicely." Chuckling at his horrified expression, she patted the area under discussion and left before he had a chance to reply. He sighed with resignation and followed her into the Muggle part of the city in search of a taxi.

Once in the car, Hermione consulted a small piece of parchment she had tucked in her pocket and gave the address to the taxi-driver. Severus turned to Hermione. "How do you know where they are living, if you have never been there?" he asked with a puzzled frown.

"Oh, that's easy. When I modified their memories, I changed their names to Monica and Wendell Wilkins. I chose the names as they were sufficiently unusual to be found easily in a telephone book, if you knew the general area. I left them with a strong urge to come to Brisbane. Finding them again was simply a matter of G..."

"Google," he finished with a smirk.

"Exactly." She smiled.

"What do your parents look like?" he asked curiously.

"Fairly typical Muggles in their early forties. Mum had me just after graduating from university. She has frizzy hair like mine, which she usually keeps tied back in a bun. She is about my height, a little overweight, and tends to dress somewhat conservatively. Dad is starting to turn grey; I think finding out his daughter was a witch sped that up. He is around five foot ten, with a bit of a paunch. They are both loving parents in their own way, but were very busy, stressed people with little time for fun. I guess that is why I read so much as a child. It was my way of having fun, and they certainly appreciated the peace and quiet."

"Finding out that their daughter was a witch must have been quite a shock then."

"It was, indeed. I think they were still holding out hope that once I had graduated from Hogwarts, I would put all that silly magical nonsense away and attend a nice respectable Muggle university. They willingly paid all the fees and showed an interest in the Wizarding community when we visited Diagon Alley, but I think deep down they really did not appreciate what being a witch or wizard implies. It is not a lifestyle choice, as they believed, but simply who we are." She sighed as she remembered the frequent discussions she had had with her parents about her future. Hermione loved them deeply, but since she had turned eleven, they had gradually drifted apart.

Within a short time, they were dropped off outside a low-lying cedar bungalow with a colourful garden in a wide, gently curved street. Across the road were grassy banks leading down to a beach with silver sand and gently lapping waves. The sea sparkled in the morning sun, with seagulls swooping and gliding in the light breeze. Large, shady trees and picnic tables completed the idyllic picture. As the taxi sped off back to town, they saw a couple strolling hand in hand along the sand.

They sat at one of the tables while Hermione decided how to approach her parents. As the couple walked past, she suddenly realised that the slim, tanned, youthful looking man and woman were none other than her mum and dad. They were nearly unrecognisable. They appeared to have shed their stressed, conservative personalities with their memories. Her mother's hair was long and wavy and left to hang freely. She was wearing a multicoloured dress that floated around her bare legs and sandals. Her father had a trendy, slightly spiky hairstyle and was wearing beach shorts and a T-shirt with a popular logo on the front. She had never seen him in T-shirt before, let alone one with a label. He turned to his companion as they entered the gate and laughed at something she had said, then kissed her, his hand gently caressing her lower belly, outlining the small bulge there.

Hermione was stunned. These people were not the parents she knew. They were happy, carefree, and expecting a baby. Her mother had never been able to conceive again after having Hermione, but no cause was ever found, much to the Grangers' dismay.

"Oh, Severus. What do I do? How can I take them back to their previous life of stress and constant work when they are so obviously happy here? I know if I restore their memories they will feel obliged to return to their responsibilities in Britain, but..." She appealed to him for advice.

"It's been quite a shock for you to see them this way, Hermione. Let's leave it for the moment and go back to the Victoria Park area. We will find somewhere to stay. It is the early hours of the morning at home, you know. You need to get some sleep, and then you will be in a better state to make important decisions," he suggested.

She agreed, grateful he had understood her dilemma so quickly. Returning to Victoria Park was simply a matter of Apparating, as they knew where they were going this time.

Bruce was once again very helpful, offering them a room above the pub.

"It's not the flashest of rooms, you can barely swing a koala in there, but if you want it, it's yours," he offered. Severus met Hermione's eye in an unspoken question. She nodded; feeling too emotionally and physically exhausted to worry about sharing a room. Bruce led them upstairs, indicating the shared bathroom across the hall and let them into the small twin room he had available.

"Thank you for all your help," Severus said as the Australian wizard turned to leave.

"You're welcome, mate. Just come down later whenever you are ready, and I will rustle you up a little tucker."

Severus turned to find Hermione lying on one of the beds, fully dressed and nearly asleep. He grinned to himself as he transfigured her jeans and T-shirt to light cotton pink pyjamas, complete with cute white bunnies which periodically hopped around. Payback! Still grinning he dropped his jeans, climbed into his bed, and was soon sound asleep.

***

A/N: Based on prompt 93. "Someone has his or her powers stripped away for misuse. Did he/she lose them because of actual misuse or was it a set up? How do they get them back?"