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Chapter Text

Hermione Granger chewed on her nails nervously as she waited outside of Professor McGonagall’s office. The Battle of Hogwarts ended, and she along with Harry, Ron, and all other would’ve-been 7th Years were summoned back to school for their Classification tests, since they missed them during the school year. Harry had just been called in, meaning she was likely next of the Gryffindors.

She’d been tortured by Bellatrix, fought Death Eaters, even faced the prospect of losing her best friend, and it was all over. The wizarding world was safe, the safest it’s been in her lifetime, and yet…she was afraid.

“Cheer up, Mione,” Ron offered, waiting casually for his turn as well. “We’re likely all Neutrals, anyway. You don’t have to look so worried.”

“Stressful events can affect the rates of the other Classifications,” Hermione explained again, for the umpteenth time. “And we just finished a war.”

“Doesn’t mean you’ll be a Little,” Ron shrugged.

“Even if you are,” Neville offered quietly, “it wouldn’t be the worst thing. My gran always said Littles were a gift from magic, to remind us of joy.”

Hermione bit her lip, unwilling to argue with Neville. Deep down she knew he was right, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be anything but Neutral. She had too many plans, too many big goals, to be anything else. After all, did Littles even have jobs? And even a Caregiver felt like a curse, stuck being depended on when the entire world was out there.

No, Hermione decided. She would have to be Neutral. She just had to. 

After what seemed like an eternity, McGonagall’s door opened.

“Miss Granger, your turn,” the witch said, greeting her with a smile and gesturing her inside.

“Where’s Harry?” Hermione asked immediately. She looked as McGonagall closed the door, noting the office only contained her professor, Madam Pomfrey, and another kindly old witch that was reminiscent of a kind grandmother.

“He took my fireplace back to his godfather’s,” McGonagall answered. Hermione nodded, knowing Harry moved in with Sirius as soon as the war was over. 

“Miss Granger, take a seat,” Madam Pomfrey directed. “I’ll be running a regular diagnostic spell, and then I’ll need a blood sample for the Classification potion.”

Hermione sat and rolled up her sleeve, pretending not to notice the other witches’ looks of pity at the scar across her arm from Bellatrix.

“Miss Granger,” the elderly witch said as Madam Pomfrey began her work, “I’m Ms. Geraldine Figg, from the Department of Classifications. I’m here to oversee the test, as well as help determine any next steps we may need to take.”

“Next steps?” Hermione asked, ever curious.

“If you’re determined to be a Little, we’ll have to determine your foster placement,” Ms. Figg explained. “And if you’re a Caregiver, we’ll want to register your information for whenever you’re ready to care for a Little.”

“Will you be returning for your 7th year, Miss Granger?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Oh, yes, absolutely,” Hermione answered quickly. Professor McGonagall just chuckled lightly in response.

“Hm,” Madam Pomfrey said, looking over the glowing results of her diagnostic spell as they hovered over the potion containing Hermione’s test. The results were a lot of markings, and while Hermione could make out a few runes, they made no sense to her.

“What is it?” Hermione asked nervously, not liking the frown that spread over the mediwitch’s face.

Madam Pomfrey shot a look to McGonagall, who walked over and looked at the results herself. Even Ms. Figg stood to check it out, and all three elder witches slowly turned to look at Hermione, faces etched with concern.

“Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall began, “you have been classified as a Little.”

Hermione’s stomach dropped. She tasted bile in the back of her throat, her heart beating loud enough that for a moment she worried Ron and Neville would hear it outside.

“No, I, I can’t…I can’t be-“

“We have been seeing more of them,” Ms. Figg said gently. “The past few years will really give us an uptick, I’m sure.”

“It’s more than that, Hermione,” McGonagall continued, and the professor resorting to her first name made her blood run cold. 

“Your magical signature,” Madam Pomfrey continued, “it’s…unstable. Not to a terrible degree, but-“

“Enough that we are concerned,” Ms. Figg concluded. “Your signature denotes a Little who has been repressing their nature, putting your very core at risk. Tell me, have you dropped, or had any signs of your Classification before today?”

“None!” Hermione insisted. “None at all! Not that there’s been any time, of course-“

“That may be the problem,” Ms. Figg muttered, the other witches nodding along with her. 

“What does this mean? Am I…am I okay?”

“You’ll be fine,” Madam Pomfrey promised. “It just is going to, shall we say…complicate Ms. Figg’s next steps for you.”

“Are we sure it’s correct?” Hermione asked, looking at the runes floating over the cauldron once again. “I mean, I can’t be a Little.”

“I ran the spell twice before confirming with your blood,” Madam Pomfrey replied.

“You are a Little, dear,” Ms. Figg said. “I’m terribly sorry if this was a shock, but it does not change facts.”

“Would you like us to fetch your parents, perhaps?” Professor McGonagall asked kindly. “We can make an exception for them with the Floo-“

“No!” Hermione insisted, color draining from her face. She winced at the look her professor gave her, quickly conjuring an excuse. “I mean, I just…they don’t know about Classifications, they won’t understand, and I just…I want to wrap my own head around it first,” she finished lamely.

Professor McGonagall gave her a long hard stare, akin to the looks the trio were used to after a night of mischief, before her eyebrow raised.

“You’ll have to stay with a wizarding family until your first drop, just in case. What do you plan to tell your parents?”

“Oh, well,” Hermione said, squirming in her chair slightly, “They went traveling months ago, and are in Australia currently. Mrs. Weasley has let me stay with them while we recover and get ready to come back to school.”

“I see,” Professor McGonagall said, though the look she gave Hermione told her she didn’t believe a word. 

“The Weasleys are all Neutrals,” Ms. Figg murmured, pulling out a large notebook and rifling through it. “While usually we would be alright with a Little/Neutral placement, given the rarity of Caregivers, due to your signature I’d feel much better finding you a proper Caregiver.”

“Do you have any available?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“I believe I may,” Ms. Figg said, finger tracing page after page as she skimmed her notes. “Tell me, Miss Granger, you said you plan to return to school, yes?”

“Yes,” she squeaked.

“Perfect,” the elderly witch grinned, snapping her book shut. “I have just the idea, then. As it turns out, I have a Caregiver who recently applied to foster, and has taken a position at Hogwarts.”

“Do you mean-“ McGonagall began, and the other woman nodded, causing a grin to break out over the professor’s face.

“I do,” she said, crossing the room and throwing a handful of powder into the fire. “And I’ll go see if she’s available for a visit.”

“Wait, who is she talking about?” Hermione asked, as the witch disappeared into the green flames.

“Our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor,” McGonagall beamed, “Marlene McKinnon.”

Chapter Text

“What does being Little mean for my 7th year?”

Ms. Figg had been gone for a few moments, and Hermione finally got up the courage to ask her professor.

“Well, some of that answer will depend on your headspace,” Professor McGonagall explained, “which we won’t know until your first drop.”

“What if I just don’t drop?” Hermione asked. She wondered if there would still be a way out of this Classification, a way to preserve the future she wanted for herself. It wasn’t fair to spend her youth fighting a war just to lose it all anyway.

“You’ll drop,” Madam Pomfrey said firmly. “And if you try to repress it, you’ll destabilize your magic even more. You could cause permanent damage, so don’t get any ideas.”

“You may not drop far,” Professor McGonagall added. “It could be that your headspace is still a teenager, we don’t know. But we’ll figure it out and you’ll still attend your 7th year, Miss Granger, rest assured of that.”

“Will there be any point?” Hermione asked quietly. She felt the tears starting to burn in her eyes and blinked hard, willing them away. She would not cry. Crying meant they were right.

“Miss Granger, surely you know you can still do anything regardless of classification,” Professor McGonagall said. “Professor Dumbledore himself was a Little, you know, and it didn’t stop him at all.”

Hermione stared in shock, but before she could ask any further questions the fireplace glowed green once more, and Ms. Figg returned followed by a tall, slender witch with strawberry blonde hair.

“Professor Marlene McKinnon,” she said, holding out a hand for Hermione to shake, shooting a wink to McGonagall over the teen’s head. “I hear you’re looking for a Caregiver.”

“I mean, uh…I suppose,” Hermione answered, taken aback. She’d assumed any Caregiver told of her new classification would automatically treat her like a baby and had prepared herself for it. Still, as the shock settled, she bristled slightly. 

“Or at least,” she continued, “they were looking for me.”

“Ah, yes, I also heard you weren’t exactly thrilled to be a Little,” Marlene continued. 

“I just can’t see how it’s correct. There’s been no signs,” Hermione protested again, finding her voice now that she’d had a chance to process. “Is there any chance at all?”

“None,” Madam Pomfrey said firmly, though not unkindly. “I brewed it myself with our new Potions mistress, and I assure you, every part was followed thoroughly. For what it’s worth, you aren’t the first to be surprised out of your year.”

“Of course, we cannot give you details about your peers,” McGonagall added quickly, “so don’t even try to ask. Just know you aren’t alone.”

“Well surely that proves there’s a problem!” Hermione insisted. “Littles are rare, or are supposed to be! If you’ve had more than one-“

“Same thing happened my year,” Marlene said, reaching out to cautiously place a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. Hermione hated how calming the gesture felt, but if Marlene noticed her shiver she ignored it and continued on.

“I went to school with Harry Potter’s parents, you know. We graduated around the time of the first battle against Voldemort, and you could tell. I was a Caregiver, and one of my best mates was Little, along with a few of our classmates.”

“Really?” Hermione asked. Her heart sank. She knew, of course, she’d been telling Ron all week that their past few years could take its toll, but part of her still hoped it would be wrong, or different this time.

“Listen,” Marlene said, “I understand you aren’t thrilled about classifications. And there’s still a lot we don’t know. But from what Ms. Figg told me, your core is also suffering from something, and there’s reason to believe my aura as a Caregiver could help that bit, so even if you’re against the Little part, why don’t you stay with me until we get your magical signature sorted out?”

Hermione stared at the woman, wondering just how much she knew already about her. Still, her logic was sound, and Hermione didn’t want to risk any permanent damage to her ability to do magic. Little or not, magic was the only part of her future she still had left.

“Fine,” she mumbled.

“Good,” Marlene replied. “Now, I understand you’ve been staying with the Weasleys? Why don’t we go collect your things and I’ll take you to my place? I have a spare bedroom and you can decorate however you wish.”

Hermione looked between Marlene and the other witches, and at an encouraging nod from Professor McGonagall she finally agreed.

“But, what do I tell Mrs. Weasley?”

“Whatever you wish to tell her,” Marlene said. “But, Hermione, this isn’t anything to be ashamed of. You shouldn’t need to worry about telling anyone your classification.”

“Littles are a gift in our world,” McGonagall added. “And I can assure you, any intolerance of classifications will be dealt with harshly at Hogwarts this year, so you need not worry here either.”

Hermione sighed and nodded, deciding to bite her tongue. This was happening whether she agreed or not, and the quicker she could get this part over with and get alone, the quicker she could decide what to do next.

Marlene bid the other women goodbye before grabbing a handful of Floo powder and throwing it into the fireplace. 

“After you,” she said, and Hermione immediately stepped in and shouted for the Burrow, walking out and dusting herself off as Marlene followed behind her.

“Oh, Hermione dear, you’re back, how was your- Marlene? What brings you here?” Mrs. Weasley asked, rounding the corner out of the Burrow’s tiny kitchen. Ginny poked her head around after her.

“I, um, I’m Little, apparently,” Hermione squeaked, deciding to get it over with. “They want me to live with a Caregiver, so…”

“We would’ve let you stay here, dearie,” Mrs. Weasley said, stepping forward to wrap Hermione in a large hug. “I already raised seven children, what’s one more Little, after all?”

“There was an issue they worried about,” Hermione mumbled into Mrs. Weasley’s shirt. “Said I need a Caregiver.”

“Is Hermione alright?” Ginny asked, now stepping fully into the room. Hermione’s face just flushed.

“She will be,” Marlene explained. “The Ministry just wants to be precautious, is all.”

Hermione was grateful for Marlene’s discretion, truly, but looking at the worry on Mrs. Weasley’s face bothered her. 

“The Weasleys are like my family,” Hermione said quietly. “I don’t mind if we tell them what’s going on.”

“Why don’t you go get your things, Hermione, and I’ll put the kettle on,” Mrs. Weasley said, gesturing for Marlene to follow her into the kitchen. “I’ll have your favorite tea and some biscuits ready when you’re done, so you can have a snack before heading to the McKinnon house.”

“I’ll come help you,” Ginny said, taking Hermione’s arm and leading her upstairs. Once the girls were inside Ginny’s bedroom, she closed the door and looked at Hermione.

“So how are you actually doing?” Ginny asked, keeping her voice low in case her brothers walked by.

“I shouldn’t be a Little,” Hermione groaned. “I mean, it makes no sense. I’ve always been the one to write study schedules and do homework and pack our bags. I’ve always taken care of people. If I’m not going to be a Neutral, shouldn’t…”

Ginny nodded as Hermione let the question trail off. “It would make sense, yeah,” she agreed softly. “But our magic…I think it’s a little more complicated than that. And we’ve had a hell of a few years.”

“No kidding,” Hermione grunted, shoving things into her beaded bag. “What about you, though? I just…no one else knows yet and I don’t know how Harry and Ron are going to react. What do you think about it?”

“Well, my brother is a moron, so who knows how he’ll react. But Harry will be supportive, I’m sure. And as for me, I’m just glad someone is finally going to slow you down and take care of you for a change.”

Hermione paused at that, searching Ginny’s face for some sort of punchline. Instead all she saw was genuine concern, a gentle smile, and the redhead reaching to pat her on the shoulder.

“Let’s go have your snack,” she said, taking Hermione’s arm once more. “It’ll be Mom’s last chance to feed you entirely too much for a while, so I’m sure there’s a whole plate of biscuits waiting for you.”

Ginny was absolutely correct, as tea and biscuits were waiting for Hermione downstairs, Mrs. Weasley insisting she and Marlene continue to take more and more. Hermione was insisting for the third time that she was full when she heard someone arrive via Floo.

“Mum, I’m back,” Ron called, waltzing into the kitchen. “Oh, Mione, there you are. McGonagall didn’t tell me you were here. How’d it go?” He sat and grabbed a biscuit, utterly oblivious to the blush creeping up Hermione’s cheeks.

“Um, okay,” she squeaked. “Yours?”

“Easy Neutral,” Ron shrugged. “They called Neville in, and he took quite a bit of time, but my test was super quick. Yours seemed to take longer than Neville though.”

“Yes, well,” Hermione stammered. “I, uh, as it turns out, I’m…I’m a Little,” she spat out quickly.

Ron choked on his tea, his mother slapping him on the back as he put his cup down. Before he could stop coughing to speak, she looked at him.

“Ronald Weasley, consider your next words very carefully,” Mrs. Weasley warned.

“I wasn’t going to say anything bad!” Ron insisted. “Just surprised, that’s all.”

“That’s why she’s here,” Hermione sighed, gesturing to Marlene, who sipped her tea quietly. “I have to live with a Caregiver.’

“Why?” Ron asked. “Littles can stay with Neutrals, and I’m sure Mum would allow it.”

“My core is damaged,” Hermione said, voice wavering as she admits it to one of her best friends. “They think a Caregiver aura can fix it.”

“Mione, I…are you okay?”

“She’ll be alright,” Marlene said, standing once more. She had been eyeing Hermione carefully, and the teen had the distinct sense Marlene could tell how close to tears she was. “Thanks again for the tea, Molly, but we should probably be off.”

“You both are welcome any time,” Molly said, “I mean it. Come over for dinner some time, once things get settled.”

“Come on, Hermione,” Marlene said, helping the girl to her feet. “I don’t live far, so we can Apparate from here. Are you opposed to side-along?”

“No,” Hermione said, and before she could add in that she was perfectly capable of Apparition on her own, a familiar pull hit her stomach and she landed in another kitchen, this one much more minimal than the Burrow’s.

“Welcome to my home,” Marlene said, catching Hermione as she stumbled on the landing.

Hermione followed as Marlene showed her around the house. It was a small family home, with a modest office and library area, good sized garden outside, and a couple of extra bedrooms. 

“You can take this one,” Marlene said. “It’s right across the hall from the bathroom, and not far from my room should you need anything in the night.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said curtly, “but I shouldn’t need anything. I will be fine, I think.”

“Yes, well, it’s an offer I’d make for anyone, just so you know,” Marlene shrugged. “Feel free to make yourself at home. I do have a few things to work on in my office, so I’ll be in there if you need anything.”

Hermione nodded, sitting on the bed as Marlene exited and shut the door behind her. The bed itself was comfortable, big enough for two people with nightstands on either side. She looked around the closet, noting it had a charm placed that made it bigger on the inside, with shelves running up one side. She sighed, placing her bag on one of the shelves to be unpacked later, before throwing herself across the bed once more.

“I’m not upset or Little,” she muttered to herself, feeling hot tears prickle the corners of her eyes once more. “I’m just angry. It makes sense to be angry.”

Having justified their presence to herself, Hermione buried her face in her new pillow, finally allowing the tears to flow.

Chapter Text

Marlene carefully studied the girl in front of her as they ate breakfast. It had been about a week since Hermione came to stay with her, and so far the girl had a point; there truly was no classic or obvious signs of her being a Little. She woke early and on her own, joined Marlene for meals, and spent her days reading schoolbooks curled up with Crookshanks or practicing various spells. 

Still, Marlene had her own signs as a Caregiver. She noticed how Hermione seemed to melt at terms of endearment, even if she remembered to be angry a second later. The tension that permanently lived in the girl’s jaw would disappear if Marlene made contact. And she asked a lot of questions, almost like a toddler.

“Am I your first Little?” Hermione asked suddenly, breaking Marlene from her thoughts. Typically her questions had been about Marlene’s school days, what her friends were like, or her Auror training and recent retirement to teach. This was the first that was related to classifications. 

“You’re not,” Marlene answered honestly. “Remember how I said my best mate was classified as a Little? I was her Caregiver for a few years.”

“What happened to her?”

Marlene took a long swig of coffee before answering. “Voldemort.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Marlene said. “You didn’t know, and it’s a valid question. Her name was Dorcas, and she was killed by Voldemort personally.”

“Oh,” Hermione said again, and her eyes were trained down at her plate now. 

“I don’t tell you that for pity,” Marlene tried. “It’s been years and I’ve made my peace, though I still miss her every day. But I want you to know, I’ve been on the front lines of Voldemort too, and if you ever want to talk, I’ll  listen.”

Hermione nodded, watching her plate, and the conversation ceased once more. After finishing her breakfast, she excused herself, and Marlene watched her leave the dining room and noticed her subtly rubbing her arm. She would have to remember to ask about that at a later time, once Hermione warmed up to her. 

Marlene finished her own breakfast and was in her office working on lesson plans when her fireplace turned green, and Sirius’ head appeared.

“Marls!” Sirius called. “Are you there?”

Marlene grinned to herself and set her work down, moving to crouch by the fireplace.

“Just preparing for the school year, Siri. What’s up?”

“Harry heard from the Weasleys that Hermione got placed with you. They were pretty tight-lipped about why, but I was there when you and Dorcas got classified, so I wanted to check in and see.”

Of course he did. Marlene rolled her eyes, knowing the fellow Caregiver from her year wouldn’t have been able to help himself when it comes to cooing over another Little.

“It’s exactly what you think,” Marlene said quietly, glancing at the office door in case Hermione was walking by, “but we’re still settling into that.”

“Well, all the same, Harry wants to see Hermione and spend some time together. I wondered if you’d be up for a visit? Or you’re welcome to come visit here if you’d prefer.”

“Let me see if Hermione is up for a visit,” Marlene said. “Like I said, a lot of…settling, is still happening.”

“Here too,” Sirius admitted. “Harry had just moved in, and now there’s a different dynamic to it. I’m hoping a visit helps them both, to be honest.”

“Give me a moment.”

Marlene stepped away from the fireplace and walked to Hermione’s room. The door was open, and Marlene could see she was sprawled across the bed, a large tome propped open in front of her.

“Hermione,” she called, knocking on the door frame all the same, “I’ve just had a Floo call from Sirius. Harry wants to visit, if you’re up for it.”

“Harry?” Hermione squeaked, sitting up so quickly that she knocked her tome over. “I, uh, what..I mean, I-“

“Calm down,” Marlene soothed. “He just heard from the Weasleys that you’d moved here, and he wanted to visit.”

“Does he…know?”

“I don’t believe he does, but Sirius does suspect because he and I were classified the same year,” Marlene admitted. “But Hermione, Harry is one of your best mates, and you haven’t spoken to him since the test. He was going to reach out and figure out you’d moved at some point, and if you want to tell him the full reason I don’t believe he’ll mind.”

“You’re…not going to make me tell? You’d still keep it secret?”

“Darling, nothing is happening here that you are not okay with. Haven’t you figured that out?”

Hermione stared up at her, and Marlene could see the thoughts rushing through her mind. She watched as Hermione bit her lip in thought for a moment before continuing.

“But I had to come here, I didn’t get a choice on that.”

“Your magic showed signs of instability. This was a case where we had to make a choice for your well-being. And I recognize that you didn’t get a say in that, and I’m sorry,” Marlene added.

“Okay, but about my magic…they said if I suppress…it, that it could hurt me. But you won’t force me to…drop?” Hermione winced as she said the final word.

Marlene looked at the girl carefully, tracing her thought process through big brown eyes. She finally moved to sit on the edge of the bed near Hermione, hoping she wasn’t pushing a boundary.

“If I start to sense that you’re actively repressing your headspace, or that you’re in danger of harm, I will intervene. But as it stands now, I don’t believe you’re at further risk of doing harm, so everything else is your speed,” Marlene promised. “That said, I would like your decision on a visit, as I do have Sirius waiting in my fireplace, and knowing him if I take much longer he’ll walk through to get answers himself.”

Hermione giggled at the thought, the sound eliciting a grin from Marlene. 

“Okay,” she agreed. “He and Harry can visit, as long as you’re sure he’ll take it well.”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll handle them both,” Marlene winked, and Hermione snorted again as she turned to leave and go back to the office. Marlene checked and saw that, indeed, Sirius was turned away towards where she knew he kept his powder.

“Put your Floo down,” Marlene announced, smirking as she noticed Sirius jump at the sudden noise. “We just had to have a quick chat, but Hermione is absolutely up for a visit.”

“Excellent,” Sirius replied. “Let me inform Harry, and we’ll be over in, oh, half hour? Does that work?”

“Perfect.”

***

Harry and Hermione sat outside in the garden, kicked back on a borrowed picnic blanket. Marlene had taken Sirius into the kitchen for a cup of tea, allowing the two to their own devices for the visit. Harry was leaning back on his elbows, and Hermione could almost believe he was relaxed if she wasn’t used to the way he clenched his jaw when something bothered him. 

“So, you too?” Hermione finally dared to ask.

He looked up at her in surprise, but upon registering her words he just nodded.

“It doesn’t make sense,” he truffled. “I’m the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One. I’ve been responsible for the state of the Wizarding World since I was a baby, and now…now I’m a baby?”

“Maybe not that young, but I see what you mean,” Hermione said. 

“It’s ridiculous, and it can’t be right. I don’t care what Pomfrey said, she clearly messed up the test somehow. I mean, how is Neville a Caregiver and we’re both Littles?” Harry scoffed.

“Wait, Neville?”

“Yeah, I know, right?”

Hermione stared over at Harry, processing that news. “I mean, he does take excellent care of plants, I suppose, but…really?”

“I’m telling you, Mione,” Harry said, falling on his back and throwing an arm over his eyes, shoving his glasses up to his forehead in the process, “she messed up the test.”

“Hm,” Hermione hummed in agreement. “How did Ron take it when you told him?”

“Shocked, really,” Harry said. “Wouldn’t tell me a thing about you, though, only that you moved out. I overheard Sirius mention Marlene was a Caregiver though and put it together.”

“I suppose it is pretty obvious,” Hermione sighed. She collapsed on her back next to Harry, shielding the sun from her eyes as she watched clouds pass overhead idly.

“Have you dropped?” Harry asked, arm still over his eyes entirely.

“No. Haven’t even felt anything close.”

“I haven’t either,” Harry said. “I’ve had some moments that Sirius says is me getting close to dropping, but I’m not so sure.”

“Don’t fight it,” Hermione said quietly. “They said my core is unstable already and not dropping when my body wants to will only make it worse.”

“I don’t think I’m dropping,” Harry repeated. “I mean, am I just not allowed to ever feel ill again? Why does everything have to revolve around this now?”

“Because it’s only going to build up from here,” Sirius answered, causing both teenagers to look up in alarm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to listen in, I was just coming outside to check on you both.”

“We’re fine,” Harry grumbled, settling back down and covering his eyes once more, other arm thrown across his ribs.

“Does your head hurt?” Sirius asked, kneeling down gently. Marlene stepped out beside him, and Hermione could tell by the look on her face that Harry’s symptoms were not a good sign.

“I’m allowed to have a headache.”

“Let me guess, your stomach is also twisting up, sort of like taking a Portkey?” Marlene added.

“I’m allowed a stomachache, too,” Harry snapped, turning on his side away from both Caregivers. Hermione sat up and looked him over, and was struck by ho small he suddenly looked to her, curled in the fetal position and shielding his eyes from the sun.

“Harry,” she said gently, laying a hand on his shoulder, “I don’t like this for us either, but…it’s hurting you. You need to give in to it.”

“Like you’re going to,” Harry grunted.

“I…” Hermione began, but she trailed off, knowing Harry was right. Hadn’t she been spending the past few days wondering how to hold off on her inevitable drop? How to keep this from ever stopping her, slowing her down? Hadn’t she been reading anything she could to try to see if there’s a spell, a potion, anything to make this classification go away?

“I won’t fight it,” Hermione said finally, wincing as Harry grunted and pressed his hands into his eyes harder. “When my time comes, I won’t fight it, okay? Harry, we’ve done everything together, from fighting that troll in first year to finding Horcruxes and stopping Voldemort once and for all. We’ve done everything together, so when my time comes, we’ll do this too, alright?”

Harry rolled back to face her, peeking out from under one hand to catch her eye.

“Promise, Mione?”

His voice sounded young, younger than when she first met him, and Hermione felt a pull in her own stomach. Her eyes felt hot, and she immediately scolded herself for even thinking of crying when Harry was the one suffering right now.

“I promise,” she told him, brushing his hair out of his face. “Just stop hurting yourself like this, please.”

Harry winced again, but took a hand off his face to grab Hermione’s hand. He said nothing, just squeezed it in response.

The two Caregivers had watched the conversation quietly, and Sirius finally took the chance to scoot closer to Harry.

“Let’s go home, pup, hm?” Sirius said, and Hermione could see the man’s relief when Harry nodded and allowed himself to be scooped up.

“I’ll see you both out,” Marlene said, and she walked them inside. Hermione stayed on the blanket, chewing her fingernails idly as she replayed the image of Harry, small and frail, curled up in pain on the blanket. She listened as she heard Sirius call for Grimmauld Place in Marlene’s fireplace, and a few moments later Marlene was back outside.

“Talk to me,” Marlene said, plopping down next to Hermione on the blanket. “I can see those gears working, and I can see the questions coming, so hit me.”

Hermione kept her eyes trained down, but she felt a tear slip down her cheek. If Marlene noticed, she said nothing, even as Hermione reached up and wiped it with the back of her sleeve.

“Is Harry okay?” Hermione’s voice quivered as she asked.

“He will be,” Marlene said. “Fighting a drop can cause some physical ailments, as well as damaging your magical signature, but it gets way worse before any permanent damage is done. Your friend won’t feel well tonight, but assuming he gives in, Sirius will take care of him and he’ll feel much better tomorrow.”

“Can I talk to him tomorrow?” Hermione asked, finally looking up. Marlene looked her over with such tender care, and Hermione felt waves of warmth spread through her body.

“I’ll have to check with Sirius to make sure he’s up for it, but I don’t see why not.”

“Is that going to happen to me?” Hermione asked, and this was the question that fully broke the dam. Tears flooded and turned into sobs, and before she could fully process what happened Hermione found herself wrapped up by strong arms, her head carefully nestled in a shoulder.

“It could, if you fight it too much,” Marlene murmured. “But I’m going to do my best to keep that from happening.”

“I haven’t felt anything,” Hermione wailed. “What if…I don’t feel it, and…what if-“

“Breathe, darling,” Marlene soothed, rocking gently as she held Hermione close. “It’s alright, I promise. I’ll help you when I feel you close to dropping, as long as you let me. You don’t have to worry so much about it.”

Hermione just nodded, burying her face in the woman’s shoulder and willing herself to stop crying. It took several moments, Marlene silently offering comfort, moving to stroke her hair with one hand as the other held her close. When her tears finally subsided, the woman spoke. 

“Let’s get you inside, and I’ll make us both a cup of tea to perk up. Then tomorrow, once you’ve had some good sleep, we can check on Harry and talk about a plan to keep you safe, hm?”

Hermione merely nodded, allowing herself to be led inside to the kitchen. She sat back and let Marlene choose the tea, her head too fuzzy to focus on her choices. She shook her head lightly, deciding that the tears were the reason for the fuzziness, and she would feel better soon. 

Chapter Text

“You lying, filthy Mudblood! Tell me the truth!”

“I am,” Hermione wailed, as well as she could with the woman pressing all her weight on her body. Her arm was pinned down beside her, Bellatrix shifted over to focus her attention on it. 

“Maybe this will be a reminder to you to know your place,” Bellatrix hissed. 

Hermione whimpered, then screamed as a white hot pain exploded from her arm, rippling through her entire body—

“Hermione!”

She jumped, sitting up quickly and looking around, cradling her arm to her chest. It took her a moment to realize she was in bed, and that it wasn’t Bellatrix in front of her.

“You were screaming,” Marlene said softly. “Are you alright?”

“I…yeah, I’m fine,” Hermione said, though she shivered as she said so, clutching her arm ever harder, ignoring how Marlene frowned. 

“It’s normal to have nightmares, you know,” Marlene tried, sitting on the edge of the bed, one foot tucked under the other knee. “No matter classification. Anyone would after going through what you’ve been through.”

Hermione refused to make eye contact. Marlene didn’t know the half of what she went through, and she did not care to go over what she was missing right now. 

“I’m okay,” Hermione repeated, firmer this time, though her voice still betrayed her. “I’m in my normal mindset. I can handle it.”

“Just because you haven’t dropped doesn’t mean you have to handle this on your own,” Marlene said. “I had nightmares too, you know. I still needed people with me while I recovered from everything, even as a Caregiver.”

Hermione hummed, rubbing the scar over her shirt, thankful she had decided to wear long sleeves to bed.

“Is your arm hurt?” Marlene asked. “I have some potions or salves—“

“It can’t be healed,” Hermione said quickly. “We, we got captured, and…it just can’t be healed. They tried at St. Mungo’s.”

“I’m sorry you went through that,” Marlene soothed, and Hermione winced, hating how that tone calmed her faster than anything, how the tension in her shoulders automatically started to fall.

“I won’t ask you about it, but I am here if you ever want to talk about it,” Marlene continued. “And I’m here tonight, if you’d rather not be alone. Or I can go back to my room and give you space. Your choice.”

Hermione chewed her nails as she thought, keeping her scar arm tucked against her, even now still feeling the ghost of the knife that carved into her flesh. Her head felt fuzzy the more she thought, and fear rippled through her at the thought of Marlene leaving.

“Please stay?” 

“Of course,” Marlene agreed. She climbed into bed, climbing under the covers and laying next to Hermione. “Do you just want me here, or shall we have a cuddle?”

Hermione didn’t answer, rubbing her arm once more as she considered. Making decisions felt so hard. Part of her wanted to be able to handle it, shove Marlene out of the bed and get over what happened, the nightmare, everything.

The other part whispered in the back of her mind, wondering what the harm could be in letting Marlene take care of her, if only for a little while?

“Cuddle?” Hermione said finally. She didn’t recognize her voice, but decided it was likely raw from screaming during her nightmare.

“Come here, you,” Marlene said, helping Hermione to adjust into her, laying the girl’s head on her chest and carding fingers through her hair. 

Hermione settled down, feeling a little awkward at first, until Marlene began to hum a lullaby quietly. Between the contact, the fingers gently combing out her hair, and the soft rumbling of Marlene’s hums, it took no time at all for her to fall back asleep.

***

When Hermione woke later that morning, she was alone once more, though notably tucked into her bed. She yawned and stretched, feeling surprisingly well-rested for having had the Bellatrix nightmare. She heard rustling sounds coming from the kitchen, meaning Marlene was likely cooking breakfast, and decided to join her.

“Morning,” Marlene called. “I hope you slept well.”

“I did,” Hermione mumbled, suddenly feeling shy at remembering Marlene staying in bed with her. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Of course, sweetie,” Marlene said. She finished cooking while Hermione poured herself a cup of coffee and settled at the table. Marlene served her a plate of pancakes before joining her. The two ate in silence for a moment before Marlene spoke.

“I had an owl from Sirius this morning,” she said, and Hermione’s head snapped up. “Harry dropped fully last night, and he’s feeling much better this morning, though not quite ready for company.”

Hermione took in this news, which for some reason weighed heavily on her. Still, she felt grateful that Harry was no longer in pain like he was yesterday, so she nodded and returned to her pancakes.

“I also want to talk to you about last night,” Marlene said lightly, and Hermione could feel the woman weighing her reaction.

“I don’t want to talk about the nightmare,” she replied immediately. 

“That’s fine, love, you don’t have to tell me the details right now. But I want to ask if you know how close you were to dropping?”

Hermione’s blood ran cold. Not at all, she wanted to say. Not even a little. She had a moment of weakness; surely anyone would be allowed that after reliving something so terrible? Still, the little voice in her mind whispered, wasn’t it nice to be cared for?

“I had an bad dream,” Hermione finally said softly. “Anyone would feel vulnerable after that.”

Marlene stared at her for a moment, eyebrow raised in the way McGonagall’s had the night of the troll incident her first year, but Hermione didn’t move. She didn’t want to give her any ideas.

“Hermione,” Marlene said, voice dropping to a firm but gentle tone, “surely you felt you were on the edge. I felt it, you know.”

Hermione kept eye contact, but her cheeks flushed at the realization. Of course Marlene could sense it. She was a Caregiver, what kind of Caregiver would she be if she couldn’t sense a Little on the verge of dropping? Still, she bit her lip and refused to say anything, refused to admit that Marlene might be right.

Marlene searched her face a moment more before sighing in defeat.

“Just don’t fight it if you feel it,” she said finally. “Deal?”

“I already told Harry I wouldn’t,” Hermione replied stubbornly. 

“I know,” Marlene sighed again, running fingers through her hair. She took a deep breath before changing the subject.“Anyway, I had an idea for today, if you were up to it?”

“What’s that?”

“I thought we could go into Diagon Alley,” Marlene suggested. “Your school list hasn’t arrived yet, but I thought we could shop for other things. Maybe let you get a few things for your room, as well as some things that you would’ve liked as a child? So that we have options for whenever you do drop.”

Hermione scowled at the idea, but then thought it over. She could use a few new books, and Harry’s birthday was coming up as well…

“Can we stop and get Harry a birthday gift?”

“Of course we can.”

***

An hour after lunch and Hermione found herself exiting Flourish and Blotts, tucking a new stack of books into her bag neatly. Marlene had convinced her to get a couple of children’s books as well, but she shoved those to the bottom quickly.

“Alright, what say you to a trip to the toy shop?” Marlene asked. Hermione’s face went beet red at the thought.

“Shh,” she hissed.

“No one’s listening, darling,” Marlene replied, though she took care to drop her voice. “And if anyone asks, we’re shopping for gifts. It’s not even a lie, really, since you haven’t found Harry’s birthday gift yet.”

Hermione glared, but satisfied, she agreed to venture into the toy shop. Her eyes widened as she looked around, amazed at the options wizarding children had to play with as they grew up. She’d been in this store only once before, the summer before her first year, when her fascinated parents escorted her to every single shop as they got her school supplies. The memory caused Hermione to feel a pang of guilt.

“Alright, love?” Marlene asked, noticing her discomfort.

“Fine,” Hermione lied, “just a little overwhelmed, is all.”

“There is a lot going on, Marlene agreed, gesturing to the toys that flew around overhead. “We can save this for another day, if it feels like a little much.”

But Hermione had just spotted a small replica Quidditch pitch, with miniature players flying around playing a match, and she immediately thought of Harry as she drew closer. Upon closer inspection, the players were like small action figures, though incredibly animated and detailed.

“Quidditch fan, Hermione?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “But Harry loves it.” She looked at the sign next to the models, reading over the details.

“Marlene,” she asked, “what does it mean that this set grow with you?”

“Do you know how a wizarding chess set gets to know you and trust you?” Marlene asked. As Hermione nodded, she continued, “these figures will do the same. For very young wizards, they stick to simple scrimmages or even just doing tricks on their brooms. As you get older, they’ll play actual matches for you to watch, and can even simulate matches that have happened in real life for you to sort of replay. Some Quidditch professionals even keep a set around to simulate plays as they think of strategies.”

“That’s amazing,” Hermione said, eyes wide as she watched. “I want to get a set for Harry.”

“I think that’s a splendid idea,” Marlene agreed. She grabbed a box of figurines, designed, of course, to look like the chest that held Quaffles and Bludgers. “I’ll hold this, you do a lap and see if there’s anything else you’d like.”

Hermione opened her out to argue, but just sighed and went off, knowing it would be quicker to do a lap. She walked through aisles of the shop, skimming over different sets of Gobstones and Exploding Snap cards, before she found herself in an aisle of stuffed animals. 

“See something you like?” Marlene asked, but Hermione barely heard her, all attention on a stuffed bunny on the shelf in front of her. It was grey with large, floppy ears, and as she reached out to touch it she found it was made of the softest material she’d ever felt. 

“Hermione,” Marlene said, bending in close to her ear so she could speak quietly, “would you like to get the bunny?”

Hermione looked up at Marlene, mouth open slightly in excitement.

“Can I?”

“Of course, love. Go on, we’ll get the bunny and head home, hm?”

Hermione reached out and picked up the bunny, holding it timidly. Once it was in her arms, however, the softness sent a warm sensation through her body, her head feeling fuzzy but floaty, like waking from a long nap. She hugged the bunny tight.

“Let’s go, little love,” Marlene said, escorting her to checkout. Hermione didn’t even hear the nickname, solely focused on brushing the soft bunny’s ear against her cheek.

Chapter Text

Marlene sat thoughtfully in her armchair, watching the little girl nap on the sofa across the room. They had come home from their outing, and Marlene turned her back for just a moment to put away the books she had purchased herself. When she turned back, Hermione was tucked up snuggling her bunny, fast asleep.

Littles often took frequent naps until their headspace settled, Marlene knew. She remembered Dorcas fighting naps often, and was sure Hermione would as well, once she realized what was happening. Still, for now, Marlene was thankful the girl was getting some rest after her nightmare the previous night, and that for the moment she didn’t seem to be fighting her headspace. 

Hermione shifted in her sleep, throwing her arm out to her side, the sleeve having been pulled up from the movement. Marlene caught sight of a mark on her arm, and stood to get a closer look, creeping carefully so she didn’t wake her.

The word “mudblood” had been carved into her arm. The skin was twisted and gnarled into horrific thick scars, but the word itself was still readable, plain as day.

Marlene scowled at the thought of what this poor girl had gone through. No wonder she had nightmares, or always wore long sleeves in the thick of summer. Hermione had mentioned that St. Mungo’s couldn’t cure it, meaning the scar itself must’ve been cursed.

Hermione shifted again while Marlene was deep in thought, blinking as she woke. She stared at Marlene for a moment before tracing her eye line down to her arm, and she sat up instantly, yanking her sleeve down.

“Don’t look at it!” Hermione cried, pulling her arm close to her body.

Marlene winced, practically feeling the girl get ripped away from the edge of her drop. She knelt down, where Hermione was actively avoiding looking at her, cradling her arm to her as she shivered.

“It’s alright, I won’t look,” Marlene soothed, doing her best to channel calmness with her Caregiver aura. “I’m so sorry someone hurt you this way. What can I do to help you feel better right now?”

“Nothing,” Hermione said. “It won’t heal.”

“I know, love, you told me,” Marlene said. She took a risk and sat on the sofa next to Hermione, gently setting the new bunny in the girl’s lap as she did so. “But I can listen if you want to talk, or I can make you a cup of tea, or I can give you a moment if you need it.”

“Don’t leave!”

“I won’t leave,” Marlene promised. “Not if you don’t want me to. I’m right here.”

She watched as Hermione glanced at her sideways, drawing up her legs to almost sit in the fetal position. She slid her cradled arm up until she was able to pop her thumb in her mouth, letting Marlene know she was still floating between headspaces. She made a mental note to get some dummies to keep on hand, but didn’t say anything for now.

“She hurt me,” Hermione mumbled finally, pulling her bunny up close and hugging it tight, even as she continued to suck her thumb.

“Who did, darling?”

“Bellatrix,” Hermione replied, the name slurring around her thumb. Marlene’s temper flared, and she took a deep breath to keep it under control. There would be plenty of time to hunt down the Death Eater when there wasn’t a very hurt Little girl in front of her.

“Well,” Marlene said evenly, “I promise you she won’t ever hurt you again.”

“She won’t,” Hermione agreed, finally letting her thumb slip out of her mouth. “She tried to hurt Ginny. Mrs. Weasley got her.”

“Good on Molly,” Marlene said. “I shall have to thank her next time we see her.”

“Still hurts,” Hermione whined, holding up her arm. 

“Can I look at it, darling?” Marlene asked.

Hermione nodded, pulling her bunny up to cover her eyes with her other hand as she did so.

Marlene took her arm gently, pulling the sleeve up to look at the scar once more. It didn’t make sense to her how easily you could read the word and yet the scar tissue was so gnarled, but she supposed that had to do with whatever cursed object was used to do this. She wondered if the scar itself still hurt, or if the pain Hermione mentioned was brought on by the trauma.

“Hermione, love,” Marlene asked, “does it still hurt in your arm? Or your heart?” 

“Both,” Hermione hiccuped. Marlene looked up to see tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh, my poor darling,” Marlene said, shifting to pull Hermione half into her lap automatically. “I’m so sorry, love.” Without thinking, she leaned down and pressed a kiss over the scar, the way any Caregiver would for a hurt Little.

Hermione yelped in surprise, moving the bunny from her face as she checked her arm. Marlene was as surprised as she was to see that the scar was completely gone. She had a theory, of course, but time would tell if it was correct.

“They said it couldn’t be cured,” Hermione said, voice full of awe. “They tried everything.”

“Caregivers can sometimes have a special magic,” Marlene explained, hoping the girl wouldn’t ask for more details. She didn’t need to know that that sort of magic depended on the presence of a bond, not when she’s only been with her a short time, and hadn’t even fully dropped. 

Instead of questions, she was greeted with the girl diving fully into her lap, wrapping her arms around Marlene and burying her face into her chest as sobs released. Marlene held her tight, realizing this may be the first time since Bellatrix touched her that Hermione has let herself cry.

“It’s alright, love,” she soothed, “I’m here. Let it all out, darling, you don’t have to hold it in anymore.”

Chapter Text

Marlene drank her coffee thoughtfully the net morning, waiting for a sign that Hermione was awake. She could not figure the girl out.

She’d cried herself completely to sleep the previous day, and Marlene had held her for the entirety of her nap. Yet when she awoke, she was back in her adult headspace, and excused herself for a shower. Marlene remained close in case she dropped again, but Hermione had stayed big through a shower, dinner, and going to bed.

Yet Marlene didn’t see any warning signs of the girl fighting a drop, either. She was dangerously close to dropping when telling Marlene about her arm, but she woke in a regular headspace with no ill effects. Either this girl had impeccable control over her headspaces (which wouldn’t surprise Marlene at all, really) or she was going to be a very peculiar Little.

Marlene was on her second cup of coffee when Hermione finally wandered in, bunny tucked under her arm.

“How are you, love?” Marlene greeted.

“Big,” Hermione mumbled, though the way she rubbed her eyes and held her stuffie suggested otherwise. “I’m not trying to fight it, I promise.”

“I know you’re not.”

“My head doesn’t hurt,” Hermione added, sinking into her usual chair at the kitchen table. “But my stomach feels weird.”

“Maybe breakfast will help,” Marlene said, standing to make the girl some toast with raspberry jam, which she’d learned in the first few days was her favorite. 

“Maybe,” Hermione said thoughtfully. She held her bunny in her lap, hugging it close with one hand, while fingers of the other found their way into her mouth. Marlene was glad she’d sent out for some dummies and teething toys to satiate the girl. It was clear she was going to need them.

“What does your stomach feel like?” Marlene asked a moment later, setting the plate of toast in front of Hermione. The girl just stared at it.

“Weird,” Hermione mumbled around her fingers. “Funny.”

“Funny like when we take the Floo?”

“Uh huh,” Hermione said. She continued to stare at her plate, brow furrowing as she did so.

“What’s wrong, love? Don’t want toast?”

“I do,” Hermione mumbled. “But too much.”

“You don’t have to eat it all if you’re not very hungry—“ Marlene began, but Hermione shook her head quickly.

“Too much,” she repeated.

Marlene looked over the plate, trying to piece together what the girl was saying, when it hit her.

“Hermione,” she said slowly, “do you want me to cut it up for you?”

Hermione nodded, kicking her feet idly in her chair as she did so.

Ah, Marlene thought. So she’s feeling closer to a drop again. She took her plate and cut the toast into more manageable pieces, before sliding it back. The girl immediately took her fingers out of her mouth and began eating.

“Your tummy might be feeling you close to dropping,” Marlene explained slowly, watching the girl devour her toast. Jam was smeared all across her face. 

“What if I don’t drop?” Hermione asked, eyes wide in wonder and, perhaps, fear?

“You will, love. You’re slipping for small moments here and there, I think a full drop will happen any day now.”

“I haven’t yet though, and I’m not trying to not drop,” Hermione argued, the faintest hint of a whine to her voice. “What if I can’t?”

Marlene thought a moment about how to answer. Typically if a Little asked, she would reassure them that there’s ways she can help, and she’d sugarcoat the rest. But Hermione was no typical Little, and if Marlene has learned anything about her, it’s that she wants the full truth.

“I can help you,” she started, “but if I try to help you and you still can’t drop, there is a a potion they can give you at St. Mungo’s. It isn’t pleasant, though, so it’s very much a last resort.”

Hermione looked down at her plate as she took this in, fingers making their way to her mouth once more as she contemplated. Marlene watched her closely, monitoring for any signs of distress, but it appeared she was truly just processing. After a moment, Hermione continued to eat her toast, finishing the last few pieces before looking at Marlene.

“You can help?” 

“I can, yes,” Marlene said. She summoned a wet washcloth to her, gently cleaning the girl’s hands and face with it.

“I’m scared,” Hermione admitted.

“It can be scary the first time for some people,” Marlene said. “But I’ll be right here, and I promise to take very good care of you. You won’t be alone, darling.”

Hermione bit her lip, pulling her bunny up against her cheek as she raised her other hand in a silent question, bright eyes glazing over as she finally started to let go.

“Come on, you,” Marlene grinned, silently casting a featherlight charm as she reached to pick the girl up. Hermione instantly settled into her arms, laying her head on Marlene’s shoulder, thumb finding its way into her mouth.

“Is there anything you want to do today?” Marlene asked, carrying the girl into the living room. Hermione shook her head, whining as Marlene made to put her down.

“Hold!”

“Okay, little love, I’ll hold you,” Marlene soothed, seating herself on the sofa, Hermione snuggled up in her lap. She pulled out her wand to summon a blanket over, casting a stasis charm to keep it from getting too warm in the summer heat before tucking it around the two of them.

Hermione let out a jaw cracking yawn before adjusting, laying her head on Marlene’s chest, suckling now on fingers with one hand while the other clutched her bunny.

“Tired, little one?” Marlene asked, an amused grin on her face. 

“No,” Hermione protested around her fingers, even as she yawned again. 

Marlene chuckled softly. New Littles were prone to nap often, and Hermione would be no different in this regard, at least. She summoned a book over to them as Hermione hid her face.

“If you’re not tired,” Marlene said, “then how about I read to you, hm?”

Hermione nodded, her body getting heavier as she sank into Marlene’s lap. Marlene opened the book and hardly got past the first few pages when she heard the quiet snores.

***

Hermione awoke later on the sofa, blanket carefully tucked around her, but utterly alone. Where was Marlene? Had she decided the girl was too much and left? Or had Hermione accidentally sent her away too? Or, maybe Bellatrix wasn’t gone? Her stomach twisted in knots at the thought. Maybe Bellatrix knew Marlene had kissed her arm better and was mad.

The possibilities overwhelmed her. There was only one thing she could do. She let out an earth-shattering wail.

“Oh, no, darling, I’m right here,” came Marlene’s voice, and a moment later Hermione found herself scooped up and being held close.

“Was alone,” she sobbed, grabbing on to her savior for the moment, sobbing openly. Words beyond that felt too hard. All she could do was hold on for dear life as sobs crashed over her.

“I’m here now, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” rumbled the soothing voice, a hand moving to rub her back as she was bounced gently. “The post came and I was putting it away for just a moment, I’m so sorry love, I didn’t mean to leave you alone.”

“Bella?” Hermione found the word to voice one of her fears, fighting the urge to even think about the other.

“She’s gone, my love,” Marlene soothed. “She’s can’t hurt you anymore, Mrs. Weasley made sure of that, remember?”

Hermione nodded, but the world felt like entirely too much. She buried her face in Marlene’s neck, still clinging to the woman with all she had, taking solace in the soft words being spoken to her as she was gently bounced and rocked. Finally she felt able to catch her breath, body calming as her sobs slowed.

“Feeling better?” Marlene asked, and Hermione nodded, though she remained snuggled close, terrified that any distance would make the bad feeling in her stomach come back again.

“I’m sorry I left you alone, love,” Marlene murmured again. “But I did get you a few things that arrived in the post and just put them in your room, if you wanted to look at them?”

Hermione rubbed her face on Marlene’s shoulder, using her shirt to wipe her eyes, before nodding and scrambling out of her arms and darting to her bedroom, her chuckling Caregiver following behind her.

The first thing she saw was toys on the floor. There was a set of colorful wooden blocks, just like what she had in her Muggle childhood, along with shape sorters and puzzles.

“I thought I’d get a few things that would be familiar to you,” Marlene explained putting an arm around the Little’s shoulders. “But these do have a magical twist. The blocks will remember shapes you build and restack themselves as you like, and the puzzles are a little different each time.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide at the thought, her fingers moving towards her mouth, when Marlene gently grabbed them and stopped her.

“Ah, that reminds me,” Marlene said, ignoring Hermione’s whine of protest, “we don’t want to keep putting our fingers in our mouths, do we? There’s yucky germs. So, I got you a few other options.”

Marlene pulled over a small box and opened it. Inside were a variety of options; a few dummies, teething toys, even chew necklaces that would be acceptable in her Big headspace.

Hermione scowled at the first sight of the teething toys. Did Marlene think she was a baby? She wasn’t a baby! Surely she wasn’t that Little, she just needed a little extra help, that was supposed to be okay-

Her thoughts were interrupted as her eyes fell on one of the dummies. It was red, a tiny picture of a lion on the front of it, and the sight of it made her feel that strange warmth again, the same warmth she felt as Marlene kissed her scar and held her tight and tucked her in. All thoughts of not being a baby ceased as she reached out, taking the dummy in her hand and hesitantly putting it in her mouth. One suck. Two sucks. She found the rhythm, and all tension left her body as she nearly melted on the spot.

Marlene let out a hum of approval at her side, letting Hermione lean against her as her body went slack.

“We like that one, hm?” Marlene asked, and Hermione wanted to scowl and protest, but she couldn’t get over the boneless feeling in her body. She felt relaxed, felt safe, for the first time since she got her Hogwarts letter, so she didn’t argue. She turned enough to put her arms up, letting out a contented sigh as Marlene instantly understood and lifted the girl up, snuggling her close.

“Puzzle?” Hermione asked, muffled around the dummy, but Marlene understood. 

“Of course, love. We’ll go do a puzzle, and then we’ll decide on lunch for today, hm?”

But Hermione quit listening, tucking herself in as she was carried away to the kitchen table to set up a puzzle, suckling on her new favorite dummy.

Chapter Text

Hermione had played all morning, leading to her needing a long nap after lunch. When she awoke, the warm fuzzy feeling seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a dull ache in her head. She spat out her dummy and groaned.

“What’s wrong?” Marlene asked, standing from her armchair and moving to the sofa where she’d tucked Hermione in earlier.

“Big again,” Hermione grumbled. “Is it always going to include a headache?”

“Just while you settle,” Marlene said, sitting next to the girl and summoning a glass of water. “Some Littles have a hard time staying in headspace their first few drops, so they don’t stay long enough to fully get rid of the physical side effects. Looks like you’re in that category.”

“Lucky me.”

“I can help you drop again, if you like,” Marlene offered, “but first, while you’re feeling big, I wanted to talk to you about a few things. Mostly how you’d prefer I treat you when you’re feeling Little, now that we have an idea of where your headspace is.”

“Don’t you just…take care of me?” Hermione was confused. She was under the impression that Marlene would just do whatever she would for any small child. How did her preference even matter?

“Yes, of course. Some decisions I’ll have to make in your best interest, the same way it was decided you’d liv with me,” Marlene explained patiently. “But even if your headspace is younger, you’re still an adult, and you get to have a say in how some things go, as long as it’s within reason.”

“Within reason?” Hermione asked. Marlene made a face, like she was thinking, before launching into an example.

“You can’t outright refuse to drop, for example, because that would be harmful to your health, right? But if there’s certain events you want to be big for, we can have a system set up where I can help you out of headspace, and we can set up a safety net to make sure that can happen without harming you.”

“Oh, that…makes sense.”

“And because your headspace is young—“

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said suddenly. “I don’t mean to be, really—“

“Hermione,” Marlene cut in, “it’s okay. You can’t help your headspace, and I was prepared for you to be any age when Ms. Figg called me. If it’s any consolation, your headspace may still vary as you go along, but even if it doesn’t it’s absolutely fine.”

“Are you sure?” Hermione sat on her hand to prevent her fingers going to her mouth, her worries of burdening others swelling into that fuzzy feeling again. She didn’t want to be too much. 

“Positive,” Marlene said firmly. “Besides, Dorcas dropped to infant level, so I’m well prepared for you to drop as young as your brain needs you to be.”

Hermione nodded, biting her lip.

“Let’s go over a couple more things quickly, and then I’ll go and cook dinner,” Marlene said, and Hermione felt her examining her face. She nodded in response and let Marlene continue.

Hermione followed Marlene’s lead as they discussed rules and guidelines on things like baths, getting dressed, anything that Marlene would ever need to help Hermione with. Her face soured when the discussion turned to diapers.

“I won’t need a nappy,” Hermione insisted stubbornly. “Even if I’m very young, I won’t! I potty trained very young.”

“I won’t make you wear one if you don’t need it,” Marlene replied, trying to soothe her. “But it won’t be a problem at all if you do end up needing something, even if it’s just at night. I just wanted to get your feelings before you drop to a space where it becomes a necessity.”

Hermione grunted her disagreement, this time not stopping herself from biting on her nails. Marlene had emphasized that she got to have opinions, as long as it didn’t harm her. She had a feeling this would be the discussion that tested that theory.

“Hermione,” Marlene said softly, moving to pull the girl’s hands away from her mouth, “we can talk more about it later, if it becomes necessary.”

“It won’t,” Hermione pouted.

“I hope not,” Marlene said. “Does your head still hurt? Would you like to drop for a while?”

Hermione sat and thought it over, even as the dull ache pressed at her behind her eyes. Still, she wanted to process this conversation now, and she hadn’t talked to Harry since he dropped and she wanted to check on him and let him know she’d started to drop, too. Ron and Ginny would probably also wonder.

“After dinner? I want to write to my friends.” Her voice was small, but Hermione pushed against the fuzzy feeling, determined to get this done.

“Don’t push too hard, but that should be alright,” Marlene agreed. “I’m going to start on dinner, but you come get me if your head hurts any worse, deal?”

“Deal,” Hermione nodded. She watched Marlene walk into the kitchen before heading into her room, pulling out her parchment and starting her letters.

***

Hermione had stayed out of headspace through dinner (Marlene made pasta and she refused to risk getting sauce all over herself), but the dull ache in her head was becoming a persistent throb. 

“Hermione, love, it’s time to give in,” Marlene said, squeezing her shoulder before reaching around and taking her dishes for her. “You’ve had a headache for a while now.”

Hermione bit her lip, but she was inclined to agree. It had felt nice earlier, that floaty boneless feeling, and she was so tired and tense.

“Help?” Hermione asked. Her fingers started towards her mouth, but Marlene caught them and held her hand gently.

“I can help,” she promised. “I know we discussed you being open to baths earlier, why don’t we go take one now, hm? I got some new bubbles that change colors.”

“Bubbles?” Hermione’s eyes went wide, and at Marlene’s nod she immediately put her arms up to be lifted. Marlene laughed as she picked the girl up, and Hermione let her head rest on her shoulder as she was carried to the bathroom. By the time they had arrived, her fingers had made their way into her mouth.

“No yucky fingers, little one,” Marlene chuckled, and with a wave of her wand Hermione’s lion dummy was summoned. Hermione reached for it as it arrived, popping it in her mouth immediately while Marlene started the tap in the bathtub.

“Did you want help undressing,” she asked, turning to Hermione after being satisfied with the water temperature, “or do you want to do it yourself?”

Hermione automatically went to grab at her shirt, but the boneless feeling had spread throughout her body. She yanked to pull her arm out of her shirt but it got stuck halfway, and after flailing to try and get it out for a minute she whined at Marlene.

“I’ll help you, darling,” Marlene said, laughing as she freed the girl from her prison. Marlene took over, getting her undressed and setting the girl gently in the tub.

Hermione cooed at the bubbles that had formed, bringing a hand down to smack at a large purple one on the top. It popped, only to be replaced by smaller green ones, causing her to giggle in delight.

“We like bubbles then, hm?” Marlene said, and Hermione nodded enthusiastically, popping and watching them change colors and sizes as Marlene gently bathed her, only whining when she had to spit out her dummy to wash her face.

“All done, love,” Marlene said as she finished rinsing her hair. “Keep playing with the bubbles if you like. We’ll have to get you some bath toys, too.” 

“Toys?” Hermione’s head snapped up as she looked at Marlene with wide brown eyes, voice slurred slightly by the dummy she kept in her mouth.

“Of course. We’ll go get you some bath toys one day soon, promise.”

Hermione grinned, smacking the bubbles once more in delight. She splashed around for a few more moments, giggling as she did so, before she let out a loud yawn.

“Ready to get out, little one?” Marlene prompted, reaching to grab a towel. Hermione pouted, but the effect was ruined by another yawn. As Marlene reached out for her, she whined but held her arms up, allowing herself to be scooped up in the towel. It was warm, and she let out a soft hum as Marlene wrapped her up.

“Stasis charm,” the woman explained with a wink. “Let’s get you dressed.”

Hermione let herself be carried to her room, rubbing her eyes and not even attempting to dress herself. Marlene automatically took over, getting her dressed in soft pajamas before setting the girl in front of her to brush out her hair. By the time Marlene had finished, she was nearly nodding off.

“Time for bed,” Marlene said, reaching to lift her, but Hermione’s eyes snapped open. Not bed. Bed was bad. Bed meant sleep and sleep meant that bad lady would come back. Marlene wouldn’t let that happen, right?

“No sleep!” Hermione announced, crossing her arms in defiance. Marlene looked at her, clear confusion on her face.

“It’s late, darling. It’s time for bed now, we need to go to sleep.”

“No!”

Hermione watched Marlene search her face, and felt hot tears filling her eyes. Didn’t Marlene know about the bad lady? Hadn’t she told her? Marlene finally nodded as if she could hear her thoughts.

“Are you scared to sleep alone, little one?”

The dam had burst. Hermione felt the tears spill over her cheeks, wails muffled by her dummy as she threw herself at Marlene.

“Bad lady,” she sobbed. “Hurt me. Come back!”

“Oh, no, sweetie, she won’t come back,” Marlene soothed. “Mrs. Weasley made her go away, and no bad people are coming to get you here, I promise.”

Hermione just continued to cry. What if Marlene was wrong? What if she didn’t really go away? She promised to make Hermione pay for breaking into her vault, and she was really powerful, and scary, and her knife—

“Breathe, darling,” Marlene said, interrupting her thoughts. “Just breathe. It’s alright, I promise, she won’t get you anymore.”

“Find me.”

“She won’t,” Marlene repeated. “And if she does, I’ll fight her myself. You don’t have to worry about her, sweet girl, not as long as I’m here.”

“No leave,” Hermione begged, clutching even harder to Marlene’s shirt.

“I won’t leave, little love. Come on, I’ll stay in here with you tonight.”

Marlene moved and gently pulled Hermione’s hands off her shirt long enough to lay the girl down, quickly laying down beside her before she could protest. She summoned the girl’s bunny, which Hermione immediately took and held tight to her chest. 

“Stay?” Hermione asked, one hand grabbing hold of Marlene’s shirt once more.

“Of course, my little lion cub,” he replied. Marlene pulled Hermione close, letting the girl lay her head on her chest as she started humming a lullaby once more. 

Hermione kept one hand up clutching Marlene’s shirt, determined to prevent the woman from leaving her alone. She didn’t want to be alone again. She held tight, listening to Marlene’s heartbeat and lullaby and sucking on her dummy until she finally, blissfully, slipped off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Hermione savored her ice cream. Another couple of days had passed, most of it in her headspace with lots of naps, but she had awoken that morning feeling herself and, most importantly, without a headache. It was good timing, since her Hogwarts letter had arrived with the new supply list, along with a letter from Ginny asking if she’d like to go shopping together.

Now she sat with Ginny, Harry, and Ron at Fortescue’s, the group deciding to get ice cream and catch up on the past couple of weeks before going around Diagon Alley. Marlene and Sirius had come along as well, of course, in case Hermione or Harry needed them, but since both were feeling like themselves and were with the Weasleys, they’d decided to go have a pint at the Leaky Cauldron.

“So, how old is your headspace?” Ron asked suddenly, looking up at Hermione. Ginny slapped him on the arm.

“All the tact of a Blast-Ended Skrewt, Ronald, I swear…don’t mind him, Hermione, you don’t have to answer anything,” Ginny said, glaring at her brother while he rubbed where she hit him.

“No, it’s okay,” Hermione said, though her cheeks flushed. “I, um, fall pretty young…toddler-aged, really.”

“Does that mean when you stress about your NEWTs we can just pop a dummy in your mouth?” Ginny asked. Hermione looked up, face turning beet red, but she saw no malice in Ginny’s eyes, only light hearted teasing. The soft expression on her face was enough to let Hermione relax into a chuckle.

“I suppose so, really.”

“Wait, why can she comment on it and I can’t?” Ron asked.

“Because I’m funny and you’re a dunce.”

“I’m older than you,” Harry said, jumping in to interrupt the bickering. “Sirius figures I’m about six or so.”

“And very cute, too,” Ginny said, reaching to pinch Harry’s cheek.

“Wait, they’ve seen you dropped?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Oh, yeah, you haven’t heard,” Harry replied, setting down his now-empty ice cream bowl. “Sirius got asked to teach Transfiguration, since McGonagall’s the headmistress now. While he was meeting with her, I was dropped and couldn’t come back up, so he asked Mrs. Weasley to babysit.”

“It was a nice afternoon,” Ginny said. “Even Ron behaved.”

“Oi!”

“Mrs. Weasley let me help make a cake,” Harry continued. “And then she put safety charms on my broom so Ron and I could still play Quidditch.”

“He’s still a bloody good Seeker, even when he’s dropped,” Ron added. “It’s not fair, really.”

Hermione furrowed her brow as she took this in, looking back and forth between all of them. She couldn’t find the words for what she wanted to ask, every sentence coming to her mind feeling wrong. Thankfully, Ginny sensed her discomfort and reached out to place a hand on her shoulder.

“Nothing has to change, Mione,” she said gently. “Weasleys may tend to be Neutrals, but we grew up knowing that Littles and Caregivers are a fact of life. We’re still your friends, even when you’re feeling small.”

Hermione nodded, biting her lip slightly, before she shook herself from her thoughts.

“Wait, Harry, how is Sirius teaching going to work with you? Aren’t you joining the Auror program?”

The trio had all been invited, once Voldemort was defeated, to go ahead and begin training as Aurors, seventh year be damned. Hermione immediately turned it down, as she wanted to finish her education before she made any career decisions, but the boys had been considering it, last she heard.

“I, um, turned it down,” Harry stammered, his cheeks flushing now. “Talking with Sirius, I just…I’ve fought Dark wizards since I was a baby. I’m done with that now, I think. So I’m going back to school, and then after I graduate Sirius is going to see how my headspace is before agreeing to teach a second year.”

Hermione’s eyebrows raised at that, both at Harry deciding to go back to school, but also the realization that they’d both still be Little after their 7th year ended. Would she still get to stay with Marlene? How would that work? Would she have to find another Caregiver? She bit her lip hard at the thought, she couldn’t imagine-

“Hermione, you’re spiraling,” Ginny said calmly, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. “Whatever is going on in there, it can be discussed and figured out later, okay? Promise.”

“Right,” Hermione said, shaking the thoughts away again. She could ask Marlene later. “Well, Harry, I’m glad to hear you’ll be coming back to school.”

“I think I am, too,” Harry agreed. “I hear Neville is coming back, as well.”

“I’m joining the Aurors,” Ron said. “Seamus and Dean got offered, too, once the Ministry got the full list of Dumbledore’s Army.”

“I even got offered,” Ginny said, “but I want to finish school. Besides, I had enough of Dark magic my first year of Hogwarts, thank you, I don’t care to continue dealing with it if I don’t have to.”

“Hear hear,” Harry said, raising his empty ice cream in a mock cheers. “Anyway, are we all ready to shop? The book list looks a mile long this year.”

Hermione followed her friends, allowing herself to be swept away in conversations of homework and NEWTs, grateful that at least one of her best friends would be returning to school with her.

Marlene held her pint between her hands, staring down into the mug.

“I just want to do it all right this time,” she said, avoiding eye contact with Sirius. They were in a booth in the corner, away from listening ears. “I feel like I mucked it all up last time.”

“Nonsense. You took marvelous care of Dorcas, you’re not responsible for what happened to her,” Sirius said. “Surely you don’t blame yourself for Voldemort’s doings.”

“No, but I do blame myself for running after I lost her.”

“You were grieving, and you didn’t know how far he would go. Everyone knew she was your Little girl, a bond even most Dark wizards tend to hold sacred, and he attacked that. No one blamed you for disappearing, you know.”

“I know,” Marlene sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “But…Lily wrote me, when she was pregnant. Saying that if things were different, and safer, and I felt okay being around them, she wanted to name me Harry’s godmother.”

Sirius fidgeted with his mug, and Marlene could tell this wasn’t news to him. She continued. 

“If I had been around, and she’d done that, he never would have gone to live with those horrible Muggles,” Marlene said, pausing to take a large swig of her drink. “Hell, maybe I could have even kept you from Azkaban.”

“Maybe,” Sirius agreed, “but only because you would have beaten me to Peter.”

“I never liked him, you know,” Marlene admitted. “I just didn’t say anything, because how do you tell your best mates that their friend is, well…”

“A rat?” Sirius provided helpfully, and Marlene kicked him under the table, even as she chuckled. 

“Well, he lived up to his Animagus, that’s for sure.” She knocked back the rest of her drink. If it wasn’t for the possibility of a Little girl needing her later, she’d order a second round.

“Marls,” Sirius said gently, “no one blames you. For any of this. And you can’t blame yourself either. What happened happened, and we can’t take it back, but if you think about it, we’ve been given another chance.”

Marlene looked up, ignoring how the corners of her eyes were stinging, a knot forming in her throat at the soft look on Sirius’ face.

“Harry was sent to a terrible place, and yes, the trauma is probably why he was classified as he was…but I get to help him now. I get to help him have a childhood that he was denied. You have another precious Little girl, and while she’ll never replace Dorcas, you get to honor Dorcas by stepping up to be an amazing Caregiver once more.”

Marlene sniffed, wiping the tears that threatened to fall. 

“When the fuck did you get so insightful?” She said, laughing even as more tears fell. 

“I’ve always been insightful,” Sirius huffed, though he winked mischievously. “You’ve just been too stubborn to admit it.”

Marlene kicked him again, before wiping her eyes once more and taking a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. 

“Well,” she said, “I’m glad to know you’ll be at the school with me this year. Even if I think McGonagall is absolutely batty for putting you in charge of children.”

“Ah, well, she didn’t make me Head of Gryffindor, so she’s still got some sense on her,” Sirius laughed.

“Good on Charlie Weasley to come home, too,” Marlene said. “He’ll be great at it. What’s a bunch of kids compared to Romanian dragons?”

“Fair point. Anyway, come on, let’s see if those kids have gotten any shopping done,” Sirius said as he rose, holding out a hand to help Marlene stand. She took it gratefully.

“Ten Galleons says they’re all at Quality Quidditch Supplies and Hermione’s trying to drag them out,” she said, linking her arm with Sirius’ as they walked.

“You’re on.”

Chapter Text

Marlene waved her wand to get the dishes washing themselves before entering her living room. Hermione was on the sofa, feet tucked underneath her as she read through one of her schoolbooks, Crookshanks curled protectively next to her. She noticed the girl’s eyes look up at her, searching for something as she had done all afternoon, though she couldn’t figure out what.

“Alright, out with it,” Marlene said finally. “You’ve had something on your mind all day. What is it?”

Hermione bit her lip, which Marlene was learning was one of the girl’s tells that something bothered her. She watched as Hermione carefully placed a bookmark in her book, setting it down and fidgeting with her shirt as she searched for the words.

“Did something happen at Diagon Alley?” Marlene asked, once it was clear Hermione wasn’t ready to speak yet. “I thought you and your friends had a good time.”

“We did,” Hermione murmured. “I found out today that Harry is going back to school.”

“Sirius mentioned that,” Marlene said. “And he said he was taking over as Transfiguration professor, I suppose Harry mentioned that as well?”

“He did,” Hermione nodded. “For this year, at least. He said he and Sirius would talk about Harry’s headspace and everything before Sirius agrees to teach a second year.”

Marlene pursed her lips. She could see where this conversation was going, but wasn’t sure yet which part had the girl upset.

“He told me that,” Marlene said carefully. “Because Harry’s headspace is so new, he doesn’t want to make any big commitments. But going while Harry will be there seemed like a good idea to him.”

“It does,” Hermione murmured, and she bit her lip again. Marlene waited a moment, giving her time to process what she wanted to ask, and was rewarded when she finally looked up.

“What’s going to happen at the end of this school year?”

“Well,” Marlene said, “I’ve always been a ‘we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it’ type, but I have a feeling that answer won’t satisfy you. What do you want to happen?”

Hermione bit her lip hard this time, and when she made eye contact with Marlene she could see tears shimmering in the girl’s eyes.

“I don’t want to leave.”

“Darling, no,” Marlene said quickly, crossing the room to sit next to Hermione, immediately wrapping her in a ight embrace. “You wouldn’t have to leave, not if you don’t want to.”

“But, you’re teaching-“

“For this year,” Marlene finished. “And then I took you in, and even if I plan to teach next year, I could teach and still be your Caregiver. You do know not every professor at Hogwarts has to live at the school full-time, right?”

Hermione halted, and Marlene immediately realized she did not, in fact, know that. It was a common misconception, of course, since so many teachers did choose to live at the castle, so she went on to explain.

“The House heads always are full time tenants, of course, so they can be there for their Houses at all hours. And many teachers do choose to live at the castle to make it easy, if they’re single and don’t have families. But there’s plenty that live in the hamlets surrounding Hogsmeade, or even that just go home through the Floo at night.”

“I didn’t know that,” Hermione squeaked. “It just seemed like they are always there.”

“Many are, but not all of them,” Marlene said. “Some may also stay the week but go home on weekends. I’m sure if you sat and thought it through, you’d be able to think of a few professors you rarely saw outside of class.”

“Oh,” Hermione said softly. 

“I appreciate you being concerned for my career,” Marlene continued, “but it’s alright. I can take care of you and teach, even after you graduate, if that’s what I want to do by then.”

“You think you won’t want to?” Hermione asked, all upset now replaced by curiosity. Marlene would never cease to be amused by her inquisitive nature.

“I have to spend an entire school year dealing with you and Harry in a class, a bunch of other teenagers, and Sirius living right down the hall,” Marlene said, winking. “We’ll see if I survive that before we make any major decisions, eh?”

Hermione finally laughed at that, and Marlene took the small win. The girl relaxed into the sofa, grabbing her book, but she paused once more before opening it.

“Wait, then why is Sirius waiting to see how Harry does?”

“Well,” Marlene said, running fingers through her hair, “that’s a question for him, really. Could be he’s not sure on being a teacher. Could be that Harry’s headspace is even less stable than yours right now. If I had to guess, though, I think he just wants to make up for lost time with Harry.”

Hermione nodded, accepting the answer as she opened her book. Marlene finally looked and realized it was the book for her class.

“You know you don’t have to study just yet,” Marlene chuckled. “I didn’t set any summer homework, and your Caregiver is the professor of that particular class, anyway.”

“I know,” Hermione said, “but I still wanted a good start, and this book was on top of the pile for this year.”

“Well, if you’re all set to study, I’m going to work on my lesson plans in my office. Promise you’ll come get me if you need me?”

“I promise.”

“Good,” Marlene said, standing up. She went to step into her office, but stopped and turned back to Hermione.

“Oh, and anytime something is bothering you, all you have to do is tell me,” Marlene said gently. “I’m always happy to help you, in headspace or out, but I can’t help you if you don’t tell me something’s wrong.”

Hermione looked up at her, a strange look in her eye, as if she was wrestling with something. Marlene nearly asked when Hermione nodded, signaling she understood, so instead she leaned down to kiss her on top of the head before stepping into the office. 

Hermione read the letter again and again. She’d finally set her book down, eyes blurry from reading for the past few hours, to see Sirius’ owl perched by the window. She opened it and gave the owl a treat before opening a letter from Harry.

Her eyes still felt blurry, and the funny pull started in her stomach. She’d learned this was the start of her headspace creeping up. She wanted to fight it, to go to bed and wake up her normal age, able to prepare for schoolwork, and deal with the idea of this letter tomorrow. But the pull was definitely there, and she knew ignoring it too long would lead to a headache.

Besides, wasn’t it nice to be cared for? To not have worries? To finally relax, really relax? She wanted to give in, but the letter gnawed at her. She rubbed her eyes, too tired to fight this battle, so she found herself walking into Marlene’s office.

“Marlene?”

The woman looked up from her desk, where textbooks and parchments were spread out. Something about Hermione must have tipped her off, because she immediately put her quill down and wrapped the girl in a hug. Hermione buried her face, thankful for the moment that if she had to be Little, she at least got a Caregiver taller than her.

“What’s wrong, love?” Marlene asked, holding her close. 

“Might be dropping,” Hermione mumbled. 

“That’s alright, darling,” Marlene said. “Remember, you haven’t really settled yet. It might be a few weeks of frequent drops before your mind settles and can stick to one headspace or the other for longer periods.”

“Not why I’m sad,” Hermione whined, hating how quickly the fuzzy feelings took over. She held up the letter from Harry, burying her face in Marlene’s shirt again as the woman read the letter.

“So Harry is going to have a birthday party, in headspace,” Marlene said carefully. “Are you nervous to drop in front of everyone?”

Hermione nodded, sniffling despite herself. Damn her young headspace. Marlene mumbled something and then picked the girl up, carrying her into the next room so she could deposit them both on the sofa and pull the girl in her lap.

“Darling,” Marlene started, fingers combing through her hair as she spoke, “you don’t have to drop in front of them, you know. Harry even mentions in his letter that it’s up to you.”

“I know,” Hermione sighed. “But I don’t want him to drop alone on his birthday, plus…they’re going to see me dropped at school anyway, probably, and…” she trailed off.

“So this isn’t about Harry’s birthday,” Marlene surmised. “This made you think about how you’ll likely need to drop in front of people at all, hm?”

Hermione nodded, hiding again.

“It’s alright, it’s normal to be nervous,” Marlene said. Hermione pressed her ear against the woman’s chest, finding herself soothed by the hum of the woman speaking as she continued. “But the Weasleys will be a safe family to try it out with, don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” Hermione said. “But I’m scared.”

“I’ll be right there with you,” Marlene said. “And at any point, either at Harry’s birthday or at school, if you get too uncomfortable, just say the word and we’ll find a solution. I promise.”

Hermione pondered it. Marlene had kept her word about everything so far, and while she didn’t want to miss Harry’s birthday, it was nice to know she could leave if it got to be too much. And it would be a good practice run. She was disrupted from her thoughts by Marlene grabbing her fingers, which she hadn’t even realized were heading towards her mouth. Marlene offered her dummy instead.

“For tonight, love, let’s go get ready for bed, hm? We can sleep on it and make decisions in the morning,” Marlene announced, standing and lifting Hermione with her. 

Hermione furrowed her brows, looking down at the dummy in her mouth before looking up at Marlene.

“How?” 

Marlene laughed. “Caregivers tend to have an easier time at wandless magic, since our hands are usually full,” she explained. “Now, are you ready for a bath?”

“Bubbles?”

“Bubbles,” she agreed, and Hermione laid her head on Marlene’s shoulder as she was carried to the bathroom, finally letting the fuzzy feeling fully take over for the night.

Chapter Text

Hermione woke early the morning of Harry’s birthday, though she wished it had been out of excitement. Instead it was nightmares once more, Bellatrix taunting her as she often did in her dreams.

“Marlene!” Hermione wailed, waking with a start. She scrambled to free herself from her blankets, trying to get out of bed, when she suddenly felt a cold feeling between her legs. By the time Marlene had entered her room, her screams had reached another pitch.

“Oh, darling, it’s alright,” Marlene soothed, immediately scooping the girl into her arms and casting a cleaning spell. The sheets were like brand new, and Hermione suddenly felt warm and dry, but it wasn’t enough to stop her wails. 

“Not, baby,” Hermione choked out, coughing as she cried. Marlene bounced her gently, trying to do anything to get the girl to calm down.

“Darling, it’s okay, it was just an accident,” Marlene murmured, dropping her lips close to Hermione’s ear so she could be heard over sobs. “Breathe, little one, it’s okay, I’m here, we can talk it out, but you have to calm down first sweetheart.”

Hermione buried her face and sobbed, shame and humiliation clouding all of her other thoughts. She sobbed and cried until she couldn’t anymore, Marlene holding her and whispering reassurances until she was finally calmed, sobs dropping to sniffles.

“There we go,” Marlene said, as Hermione finally calmed herself, and she sat on the bed, holding the girl in her lap. “What’s going through your mind, little love?”

“Not a baby,” Hermione mumbled, firmly hiding her face away.

“I know you’re not,” Marlene said. “It was an accident. You’d had a nightmare and had an accident, it’s okay, it happens.”

“No nappy,” Hermione whined.

“I’m not going to make you wear a nappy after one accident,” Marlene said, and Hermione nearly melted in relief. “If it happens more often we can talk about options, but you’ve only had one, little love. It’s alright.”

Hermione rubbed at her eyes with her fist, accepting the dummy that Marlene seemingly pulled out of nowhere.

“Come on,” Marlene said, satisfied that Hermione had calmed and standing with the girl in her arms. “Let’s go have breakfast and get dressed, and then we’ll head to the Burrow and help Molly set up for the party, and then we’ll have such a fantastic afternoon that no nightmares can come tonight, hm?”

Hermione nodded, yawning and laying her head on Marlene’s shoulder. She let herself be changed into her outfit for the day and fed bites of pancake, but the shame of the morning hung over her, even as they arrived at the Burrow. It was enough to make her hide from the people she once lived with as soon as they stepped through the Floo.

“Oh, are we feeling shy?” Mrs Weasley asked, stepping in to greet them. She peered around Marlene and caught Hermione’s eye and gave a little wave.

“We’re having a rough morning,” Marlene explained, turning to put an arm around the girl. “And we’re a bit nervous about our friends seeing us in headspace, I think.”

Hermione turned and hid her face, fists curling up in the hem of Marlene’s shirt.

“Oh, Hermione, it’s okay,” Ginny said, coming down the stairs. “We’re excited to see you. I’m especially excited to spend time with you this morning while all those boys are out. We get to have a girl’s morning!”

At Ginny’s voice, Hermione peered out from behind Marlene. The redhead grinned at her.

“I like your dummy,” Ginny offered. “Very Gryffindor.”

Hermione suckled it, remembering it was in her mouth, fingers landing on it slightly. Ginny held out her hand, smiling kindly at her, so Hermione decided to leave her dummy where it was, stepping out beside Ginny and taking her hand instead.

“Mum helped me find some of our favorite storybooks from when we were younger,” Ginny said, gently leading Hermione over to a squishy sofa. “I thought we could look at some before the boys get here, if you like, while Marlene helps Mum set up the tables outside.”

Hermione nodded, allowing herself to be settled on the couch while Ginny summoned over a book for them. She was enthralled as Ginny opened it, discovering it was a pop-up book, where the characters moved around as the words were read. Her eyes went wide as they read through, Ginny making different voices for all of the characters, who continued to move around the page. She let out a yawn as they reached the end.

“Do you need a nap, little love?” Marlene asked, coming inside just in time to see the yawn. “You have time before the party begins if you do.”

Hermione felt her stomach turn over. She was tired, but she couldn’t sleep, not here. What if it happened again? In front of everyone? What if she was too much of a baby for them?

“No nap,” she said stubbornly, though her body betrayed her by letting out another yawn. 

“It’s alright, Hermione, we can go hang out in my room,” Ginny offered. “Mum had me up early to degnome the garden, so I wouldn’t mind a bit of a lie-down.”

Hermione shook her head, crossing her arms. She felt tears prick the corner of her eyes and furiously tried to wipe them away. Marlene knelt down in front of the sofa to take her hands.

“Are you worried because of this morning?” Marlene asked quietly, giving her hands a squeeze. Hermione shook her head, looking between Marlene and Ginny in a panic. How could she say it in front of Ginny? Looking over, she realized that Ginny was piecing it together, and tears streamed down her face.

“Hermione,” Ginny said casually, even as Hermione had thrown herself in Marlene’s arms and hidden her face, “did you know I wet the bed a lot my first year?”

Her sobs stilled as she took in the words. She poked her head up, the question in her eyes.

“The whole diary business,” Ginny explained, as if describing the weather. “I had nightmares, a lot, and started wetting the bed almost every night. I got really good at cleaning charms, but it got so bad I started wearing training pants to bed in case Romilda ever woke up before me and saw my sheets.”

Hermione stared, cries quieted down, brows furrowed. She processed this information, trying to find the words for her question.

“You not a baby,” she stammered, muffled by her dummy. Ginny chuckled.

“No,” she said, “I’m not, and I wasn’t then really. Just because things are used by babies doesn’t mean only babies use them. They’re for anyone who needs the help, and for a little while I needed that help, that’s all.”

“No nappy,” Hermione whined, rubbing her eyes with her fist.

“I told you, little love, you don’t have to wear one because you had one accident,” Marlene explained gently. 

“And even if you ended up needing the help,” Ginny added, carefully reaching to take one of Hermione’s hands, “it doesn’t make you a baby. I promise.”

Hermione nodded, letting out another huge yawn as she did so.

“Come on,” Ginny offered. “Let’s go up to my room, and we can both rest up before those boys get home, and then we’ll have lots of fun for Harry’s birthday.”

“I can come upstairs too, if you like,” Marlene offered. “Or you can just go with Ginny. But I think you should have a little rest, alright?”

Hermione nodded again, rubbing her eyes once more before looking at Ginny, raising her arms in a question, too tired to find words. Ginny just smiled and reached down, lifting her with surprise ease before taking her upstairs to her bedroom. Hermione allowed herself to be laid on Ginny’s bed, excited when another popup book was summoned, though she was asleep after the first page. 

“I’m telling you, Molls,” Marlene said, “you may have a Caregiver on your hands.”

“She’d be the first Weasley in generations to not be classified as Neutral,” Mrs. Weasley replied, “though I’m inclined to agree with you. She took to Harry and Hermione so naturally, you’d never know she was my youngest.”

The two had finished setting up for the party and were now just waiting for the Weasley men to finish their various jobs, and for Sirius to bring Harry. 

“She cast her own featherweight charm, too,” Marlene said. “Which, anyone can learn, of course, but the ease of it…I’m calling it now, she’s a Caregiver.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Molly said. “I’m just glad Hermione let Ginny read to her so you could help me with setup. Thanks again, by the way.”

“Of course,” Marlene said. “Besides, I may owe you. I hear you’re the reason I don’t have to hunt down a certain Death Eater and avenge my Little one.”

“Oh yes,” Molly said, setting down her cup of tea as concern fell on her face. “She still having the nightmares, is she?”

“At times,” Marlene admitted, “though less so than when I first took her in. Had one this morning, though.”

“Poor dear,” Molly said. “I could tell she was having nightmares a lot while she was here, called out that wretched woman’s name a few times in her sleep, though she insisted she was fine and didn’t want to talk about it. Stubborn, she is.”

“Yes, she is,” Marlene agreed, reaching to take a biscuit.

“Can I ask you something?” Molly said, dropping her voice a bit and turning to watch the staircase.

“Of course.”

“Have you heard from her parents at all?” Molly asked. “I only ask because, well…she started spending holidays with us after their 4th year, and I didn’t question it at the time. After all, you hear about that happening with Muggleborns, where they want to stay in our world, and her parents always sent a letter saying it was okay.”

“That is true. Even Lily pulled away from her parents eventually, though her sister had a lot to do with that.”

“Yes, well,” Molly continued, craning her neck to check the staircase again before leaning down to whisper. “When He Who Must Not Be Named returned, she told me that before those three went off in search of Horcruxes, she encouraged her parents to leave the country. She wanted to be sure he couldn’t use them against her.”

“Smart girl.”

“Very, only…he’s defeated, and she went to visit her parents where they moved in Australia. Apparently they decided to stay, which is fine, but…she only visited for a few days. After your daughter going through all of that, wouldn’t you want to see her for more than a couple days?”

Marlene paused at that, setting down her mug as she pursed her lips in thought. Molly had a point, that did seem rather off to her. And Hermione seemed to bristle at any mention of her parents, though Marlene hadn’t sought to push the point.

“Maybe they don’t know what she went through,” she said carefully. 

“Still, they hadn’t seen her for nearly a year at that point,” Molly pointed out. “Arthur and I met them a few times before, when the kids were younger, and they seemed like perfectly decent Muggles, so it strikes me as odd.”

“Yes, it does,” Marlene agreed. “I’ll have to keep an eye on her and ask about it. Though it can wait for when she’s feeling older.”

“Oh of course,” Molly said, “I didn’t mean to imply you needed to do anything at all. I just worry about that girl is all, and I wanted to know if you’d heard anything.”

“I’ll keep you posted,” Marlene promised, Molly shushing her as they heard footsteps on the stairs. A moment later Ginny descended, carrying a slightly tearful Hermione.

“We had another bad dream,” Ginny explained, subtly shaking her head at Marlene’s unspoken question. Small mercies there, Marlene thought, as she stood to take Hermione into her arms.

“It’s alright, little love, I’m here, and you’re safe at the Burrow,” Marlene soothed, moving to sit on the sofa with Hermione in her lap, the girl immediately melting into the embrace.

“Bad lady,” Hermione mumbled around her dummy, grabbing on to the hem of Marlene’s shirt. She looked up at Mrs. Weasley.

“You made her go away?”

“Yes, love,” Mrs Weasley said, “she hurt my babies so I made her go away.”

Hermione furrowed her brow. “Ginny not a baby.”

“She’ll always be my baby,” Mrs. Weasley winked, “and that goes for Ronald too, and she also hurt him. And I know she hurt you, and I love you like one of my own, so I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“She not coming back?”

“Never,” Mrs. Weasley promised. “If she does, you owl me immediately and I’ll make her regret it.”

Hermione smiled and nodded at that, turning to cuddle in Marlene’s lap. She hoped the conversation with Mrs. Weasley would help give her some reassurance, allowing the nightmares to lessen a little bit.

Of course, after talking with Molly about her parents, Marlene was beginning to wonder what other nightmares awaited her little one. She was interrupted from her thoughts by a flash of green, however, followed by Sirius and Harry entering the room.

“Harry!” Hermione said, hopping off Marlene’s lap and throwing her arms around him. “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, Mione,” Harry said, voice strained. “Too tight, too tight!”

Hermione released her hug, face blushing. “Sorry, Harry.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugged. “I like your dummy!”

“Happy birthday,” Mrs. Weasley said, pulling Harry into a large hug. Hermione shyly climbed back into Marlene’s lap as the rest greeted the boy.

“Did you have a good morning, Harry?” Marlene asked.

“The best!” Harry beamed. “Neville came over for breakfast so we could have our birthdays together, since he can’t come this afternoon because his nan is taking him to see his parents, and Sirius made pancakes with so much whipped cream, and chocolate sauce!”

“Oh my,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Are you sure you’re going to have room for cake?”

“Oh yes,” Harry said, face very serious. “Siri says on your birthday you get an extra dessert stomach for all the treats!”

“Of course he did,” Marlene said, rolling her eyes as she chuckled.

The fireplace turned green once more, and Arthur emerged, followed shortly by Ron, wearing his new Auror training robes.

“Hello Harry,” they both greeted, Ron bracing himself as both Harry and Hermione swarmed him with hugs. He managed to pry the Littles off after a moment.

“Oh wow, Ginny wasn’t kidding about the dummy,” Ron said, taking in Hermione’s appearance. Marlene watched as she shied away, but before she could react Ginny was next to her and slapped Ron hard on the arm. 

“Ow! I didn’t mean anything by it!” 

“Don’t listen to Ronald,” Ginny said, soothing Hermione before she would feel self conscious.

“I didn’t mean anything bad! I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“Sometimes your surprised thoughts need to remain inside thoughts.”

“Enough, you two,” Mrs. Weasley called out, interrupting the bickering. “We’re celebrating Harry today, not fighting.”

Harry, meanwhile, was enjoying the banter, giggling as Ginny glared at Ron and he rubbed where she hit him. A loud pair of cracks interrupted everyone once more.

“Hello Harry,” greeted the twins in unison. 

“Percy has to work late,” Arthur informed his wife, “and Charlie owled earlier to say there was some…technical difficulties with a few creatures, so he’ll be along later as well.”

“Well, then that’s everyone accounted for,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Alright you lot, outside, let’s sit down to eat!”

Marlene followed Hermione and the Weasleys out to the large table they’d set that morning, hanging back as others chose their seats. Harry had chosen the head of the table, of course, with Sirius next to him. Sirius patted the chair on his other side for Marlene, who sat, Hermione next to her, Ginny on her other side. Hermione removed her dummy to eat, passing it discreetly to Marlene as she eyed the twins, who were in an animated conversation with Harry and Ron.

“Right,” Mrs. Weasley said, levitating goblets of pumpkin juice to nearly each spot, except Hermione’s. She paused behind the girl’s chair and leaned down.

“I wasn’t sure what type of cup to grab you, dear,” she murmured, conjuring up three options. Marlene looked to see a regular goblet, a sippy cup, and a bottle.

Hermione looked at the options, face burning red as she considered them. Marlene looked around and no one was paying any attention, Harry being enthralled by a story from the twins, Ron laughing along.

“It’s alright, no one’s watching right now,” she reassured her Little, but Hermione still just stared, unsure. Marlene understood. They’d talked about trying different cup options, but so far Hermione had kept enough of her motor skills in headspace that they hadn’t needed any other option. She should have mentioned that to Molly, but it had slipped her mind.

“Hermione,” Ginny said softly, “just because babies use something doesn’t mean it’s only for babies. If you want the regular cup that’s fine, but if you want to try one of the others that’s okay too.”

“Promise?” Hermione asked, lip trembling. 

“If anyone says anything I’ll handle them,” Ginny promised. “Pick which one feels right to you.”

Marlene was ready for the girl to choose the sippy cup, knowing that this much hesitation meant she didn’t want the regular goblet, but to her absolute shock Hermione grabbed the bottle, holding it softly. Marlene recovered quickly as the girl looked up at her, seeking reassurance.

“Let me know if you like it, and we’ll get you more for home,” Marlene promised softly. “And if you don’t like it, we’ll switch to another cup, no big deal.”

“Looks like my dummy,” Hermione said, pointing to the rubber nipple of the bottle.

“Yes it does,” Marlene agreed. Hermione put the bottle in her mouth, taking a sip, and Marlene was pleased to see her practically melt in her chair. 

“We can get some for home,” she promised once more, Hermione nodding enthusiastically as she drank.

Sirius looked up as Mrs. Weasley beamed, spotting the rejected sippy cup in her hand. He reached for it casually. 

“Harry uses these, actually,” he said, taking the cup and setting it in front of the birthday boy. “No amount of cleaning spells takes away his anxiety about spills, and he likes that he can’t spill these.”

As if on cue, Harry looked over and saw the sippy cup, his eyes widening as he grinned. 

“Thank you,” he called to Mrs. Weasley, picking up the cup and drinking out of it heartily. Marlene glanced to see her girl notice, and she seemed to relax more at Harry using a different cup too, and everyone carrying on as if everything was normal.

The party raged on, everyone cheery as they ate lunch and cake, Hermione giggling as the twins battled each other over who could serenade Harry the loudest, much to the birthday boy’s delight. Finally the time came for gifts.

They’d moved to picnic blankets, sprawled out over the garden, everyone relaxed and enjoying the sunshine outside. Marlene had taken a spot next to Sirius, with Hermione laying down in front of her, head in her lap. She was drinking her bottle and blinking sleepily, trying to stay awake until Harry finished his presents. 

“Harry won’t be upset if you need a nap, little cub,” Sirius said, trying again to convince Hermione to give in.

“Present,” she mumbled stubbornly, pointing as Harry had opened a seemingly-live model figurine of a dragon, courtesy of Charlie. The boy had stopped completely, watching the dragon soar around his head and breathe harmless fire over the party.

“Pup, let’s open Hermione’s present next, I hear it’s a good one,” Sirius said with a wink. Marlene nudged a thanks with her elbow as Hermione sat up slightly, letting her bottle fall as she watched.

“Okay!” Harry said excitedly, turning to find the one from her. He ripped the Snitch-covered paper open to reveal the Quidditch box, and immediately opened it to reveal the mini players, who as if on cue started flying and running practice around Harry’s head.

“Mione, it’s…it’s amazing!” Harry said, jaw dropping as he watched the players.

“Whoa, those sets are awesome,” Ginny breathed. “I thought about getting one to come up with new ideas for the team this year.”

“Oh I heard about these,” Ron said. “Watch this. Team, can you reenact the Cannons versus the Arrows from last summer?”

Marlene watched the kids’ faces as they realized the figurines had split into two teams, robes changing into the colors of the teams Ron requested, as they lined up to start the match.

“Thank you Mione!” Harry said, rushing over to hug her. Between his excitement her position on the blanket he ended up bowling her over, landing the two of them in Marlene and Sirius’ laps.

“Easy, pup,” Sirius said, laughing as he pulled the boy up and moved to sit up. Marlene chuckled as she also sat up, taking a moment to check on Hermione, who was giggling at the antics.

“Help with Quidditch,” Hermione said, beaming at him.

“Siri, can I take these to school?” Harry said, looking up in surprise.

“Sure, you just can’t get in trouble,” Sirius shrugged. “Maybe we can keep them in my quarters, just to be safe.”

“Okay Siri!” Harry said, rushing back over to where the players continued their game. Marlene chuckle again and reached for Hermione, helping to position her back in her lap and summoning the bottle from where it had rolled away.

“He’s opened it now, little one,” Marlene said quietly, passing the bottle back, “so if you need to close your eyes and take a little break, it’s okay. I’ll wake you if anything exciting is happening.”

Hermione sank down into the blanket, contentedly suckling on her bottle once more. Marlene had turned to watch the simulated match, and by the time she glanced down at Hermione again, the little one was fast asleep.

Chapter Text

Hermione smoothed her shirt nervously. She was waiting on Marlene before stepping into the Floo, having been summoned to a meeting with Professor McGonagall. 

“You needn’t look so nervous,” Marlene said, rounding a corner and grabbing a handful of Floo powder. “It’s just to discuss your Little accommodations. Sirius and Harry will be there too, you know.”

“I know,” Hermione mumbled, but she sighed all the same. August was passing quickly, and they would head back to school next week. She still dropped more than she cared to, but she’d figured out if she let it happen without a fight, she could push her drops to nights for the most part. That would let her keep her study schedule for sure, and not disrupt classes. 

“Cheer up,” Marlene said. “You’ve gotten your drops into a routine, which is handy. McGonagall just wants to talk with you and Harry about what your year is going to look like, what happens if you need to drop during class, that sort of thing. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to know you’ve leveled out so much.”

Hermione nodded, but she still felt nervous. All the same she let herself be gently led into the fireplace, where she called out for the headmistress office. When she stepped out, she found Harry sitting at McGonagall’s desk, Sirius sitting behind him.

“About time, McKinnon,” Sirius greeted as the blonde stepped through. She gave him a playful shove and gestured for Hermione to take the other empty chair, choosing to stand behind her as well.

“Excellent, you’re all here,” Professor McGonagall began. “As you know, students are typically classified at the end of their 7th year. In all my years teaching, we’ve never had classified Little students during the school year.”

“We’ll still be in our normal classes, right?” Hermione asked, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. Marlene gently laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.

“Of course, Miss Granger,” McGonagall said. “I’ve met with both veteran staff members and the board of governors, and we’ve come to a consensus that we hope you both will agree with.”

Hermione leaned forward in expectation, noticing Harry sit up straighter in his own chair.

“First of all, it’s been generally agreed upon that all professors are to be made aware of your classification.”

“I thought everyone would know it anyway,” Harry said, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“Generally, it becomes well known,” McGonagall explained patiently. “Even the most controlled Littles tend to drop at inopportune times, leading it to become common knowledge. And rest assured, if word of your classification reaches the students and they try to discriminate against you, they will be dealt with swiftly.”

“But the professors are going to be told ahead of time,” Marlene offered, “so that if you ever drop during a class time, or can’t come up in time for lessons, you can be excused.”

Hermione shifted around in her seat, staring between Marlene and Sirius, before she nodded. Of course they would already know about this meeting. This was probably what was discussed at their staff meeting the other day, when Hermione and Harry spent an afternoon with Ginny.

“Professors will also not disclose your classification to other students,” McGonagall added, giving a quick stern look to Sirius before continuing. “It will be up to you to disclose if you like, unless, of course, a drop happens in public view.”

Hermione followed McGonagall’s gaze to Sirius, and Harry had noticed it as well. 

“Wait, is someone else Little besides us?” Harry asked, looking between the professors in the room.

“As I said, Mr. Potter, we will not be disclosing anyone else’s classification to other students,” McGonagall said firmly. “And I would greatly encourage you to not go poking around to figure it out.”

“Especially not with me, pup,” Sirius said firmly, shutting down Harry’s questioning look.

“Moving on,” McGonagall said, “this year’s returning 7th years are going to be rooming with the rising 7th years. Between those choosing to not return, and those we lost in the war, we’ll have the space to share a dormitory. That said, you two will also have the option to spend nights with your Caregivers, if you so choose.”

Hermione glanced up at Marlene, who nodded along with McGonagall’s words.

“From what I can find out, it would be you, Ginny, and Romilda Vane in a room,” Marlene explained. “But you’ll also have a small bedroom in my quarters as well. It’s up to you where you want to sleep.”

“Harry and Neville are likely the only boys,” Sirius said thoughtfully. “You still have the option to stay with me, pup.”

“You also don’t have to decide now,” Marlene added. “Or you can change it up depending on how the nights go.”

“I don’t mind sharing with Neville,” Harry shrugged. “He’s seen me in headspace.”

“I’m not sure about Romilda,” Hermione said. “If it was just Ginny that would be one thing…”

“You don’t have to stay in the dorms,” Marlene said again.

“But if I don’t then she’ll know for sure what my classification is,” Hermione said, hating the slight whine to her voice. 

“We’ll talk about it more later, love,” Marlene said, squeezing Hermione’s shoulder comfortingly once more.

“There’s one more thing,” McGonagall said, turning to face Hermione directly. Her stomach turned into knots at the look on the headmistress’ face, a mixture of sadness and anger.

“The Ministry is looking into doing classifications earlier. St. Mungo’s is reporting students showing signs, and there’s concern that the next generation of Littles may cause damage to themselves by repressing headspace if we don’t move classification timing back. So, in the event that they decide to do classifications earlier, the board of governors met to determine long term policy changes for the school, so we’re prepared.”

Hermione felt bile rise in the back of her throat. Professor McGonagall kept her gaze trained on her, save the occasional glance to Harry.

“What does it have to do with me?” Hermione asked.

“I’m afraid, Miss Granger,” McGonagall sighed, “that it has been decided that students classified as Littles cannot serve as Prefects.”

Hermione felt sick. Tears filled her eyes. Being Little wasn’t supposed to take anything away from her, right? That’s what McGonagall told her the day she got classified, and was what Marlene had told her several times in the weeks since. 

“I’m very upset about this decision as well,” McGonagall continued, “and I argued that they have no reason to believe your classification would impede your ability to complete your duties, but my hands were tied. The Ministry has agreed with the governors, and I’m forced to deliver the news to everyone affected.”

“I…I wasn’t supposed to lose anything,” Hermione said, tears streaming down her face now, stomach pulling her to the last place she wants to go.

“It’s not the first time the governors have been stupid, Mione,” Harry offered, reaching out a hand to take one of hers. “We know that. Just prove them wrong. We all know you’ll be at the top of the class anyway, that’ll show them.”

Hermione nodded, wanting to agree with Harry, knowing he had a point, but still unable to calm the storm that swirled in her mind and stomach. Marlene had moved to her side and wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder gently. 

“Look on the bright side,” Harry tried again, “we can ride the train together, right? It’ll be like old times.”

“Except no Ron,” Hermione said softly, sadness creeping into her voice.

“Oh, go on, Hermione, don’t let those old tossers get you down,” Sirius said, crouching down to her level. “We know the people in charge tend to be ruddy old fools.”

“Professor Black!” McGonagall said sharply, glaring at him.

“What? Come on Minnie, you know I’m right.”

“Do not call me Minnie.”

Harry snorted, and Hermione wiped her eyes to see McGonagall staring down Sirius, as if she was trying to figure out how to give a fellow professor detention. The absurdity of the image got to her, and she joined Harry in laughing.

“See, I got her to laugh,” Sirius shrugged, though he subtly stepped back behind Harry’s chair.

“We’re going to have a good year,” Marlene said quickly, as if saving Sirius from himself, “and we’re going to prove that being Little isn’t going to stop you at all. No worries, love, we’re going to make the best of it.”

Hermione nodded, sighing and wiping her eyes. Her stomach began to settle, but there remained a fuzzy annoyance in the back of her skull, beckoning her down. She ignored it and righted herself, refusing to allow the governors to be correct. She even pretended to not notice Marlene side eyeing her now.

“Well, unless anyone has any questions,” McGonagall sniffed, eyes trained on Sirius as if daring him to say another word, “that will be all. I look forward to seeing you all on September first.”

Hermione stood quickly, thanking McGonagall and shuffling to the fireplace. She and Harry exchanged goodbyes as Marlene elbowed Sirius in the ribs.

“You are going to get fired.”

“No I won’t,” Sirius winked, quickly following Harry into the Floo. 

Hermione looked up as Marlene rolled her eyes. 

“Come on, love, let’s go home.”

Chapter Text

Marlene watched Hermione check and recheck her trunk for the hundredth time that evening. She smiled fondly, remembering doing the same in her school days the night before boarding the train, though her trunk contained less books and more snacks. 

Hermione counted through her robes before tracing the spines of the books with one hand, wordlessly mumbling the titles as she mentally checked them off. With her other hand, though, she rubbed at her head, a telltale sign if Marlene ever saw one.

“Hermione,” she called, once the girl finally finished her checklist and closed her trunk, “how bad is your head hurting?”

“It’s not,” Hermione mumbled, even as she pinched between her eyes. 

“Don’t lie,” Marlene chastised, grabbing one of Hermione’s hands and leading her to sit together on the sofa. “You haven’t dropped since our meeting with McGonagall, and that was a few days ago. I can tell it’s building up.”

“They took my Prefect badge,” Hermione whined. “If I’m too Little then they were right.”

“They aren’t right, love,” Marlene said gently, “but unfortunately we’re going to have to prove that to them. But you can’t prove it by fighting your drops, and I think you know that.”

Hermione grunted in response, biting her lip and fidgeting with her shirt.

“We’re going to prove them wrong,” Marlene said firmly. “And we’ll look into ideas to start advocating for Littles more, so they can’t do this again to others in the future. But, darling, you can’t do any of that if you make yourself sick by fighting your drops.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Hermione whined again. “I was just mad, and I can’t be too Little-“

“You can be exactly as Little as your brain and body need you to be,” Marlene said firmly. “The governors and the Ministry are still a bunch of fools, even if we took out the Death Eaters, and we will fight them about it. But not until you take care of yourself, no matter how big or Little you’re feeling.”

Hermione took in these words, staring at her hands in her lap as she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt.

“Feelin’ really Little,” she finally admitted, and when she looked up at Marlene she had tears in her eyes.

“That’s alright, love,” Marlene said, pulling the girl into her lap and summoning her dummy. “You might drop harder since you fought it.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” Marlene soothed. “And it will be alright. We’ll have some cuddles and downtime this evening, and then tomorrow we’ll have you ready for the train.”

“Big?”

“You can be big on the train,” Marlene promised. “And Ginny and Harry will be on there with you as well, if you need them.”

“Jammies?”

“How about a bath first?” Marlene said, standing and lifting Hermione onto her hip. The girl nodded before laying her head down on Marlene’s shoulder, melting as she was carried into the bathroom. Marlene waved her wand to start the water and bubbles while she got Hermione undressed, grateful the girl was no longer shy about baths.

“Otter?” Hermione asked as she spit out her dummy, and Marlene summoned the toys in question. A pair of otters, which swam around and played in the water, even occasionally holding hands to float by, much to Hermione’s delight. She clapped as the otters raced around her, which allowed Marlene to wash her hair without much fuss. 

“Head back, little one,” she said as she rinsed, Hermione whining for a moment at having to take her eyes off the otters before looking down in delight at them once more. Marlene let the girl play after she finished her bath, until her squeals of delight kept being interrupted by yawns. 

“Time to get out, hm?” Marlene asked, reaching for the towel. Hermione just yawned in response, raising her arms to be lifted and dried. She leaned against Marlene heavily while being dried off, but her head snapped up when she reached to start dressing her.

“Mar…not a baby?” Hermione asked, slurring around the dummy she’d picked up.

“No darling.”

“Even…even if…help?”

Marlene stared at the girl for a moment before it clicked what she was asking. The conversation between Hermione and Ginny over the bottle replayed in her mind, and she suddenly understood. 

“Even if you need some help, little love, it’s alright,” Marlene promised. “Did you want some help for tonight? Are you worried you dropped too far?”

Hermione nodded, looking away, covering her eyes with one arm.

“None of that, now,” Marlene said, summoning a nappy wordlessly. “It’s okay to want a little help, love. And no one needs to know but you and me, I promise.” She quickly fastened the nappy on, grateful to Dorcas for the practice on getting it fast, and dressed the girl. With a quick wave of her wand, she also cast a concealment charm, hiding some of the bulkiness of the nappy in hopes that it would help Hermione feel less shy about it.

“How’s that, little one?” 

Hermione glanced down, blinking sleepily as she nodded her approval. Marlene scooped her up, cuddling her close. 

“Do you want to snuggle in my bed or yours?” Marlene asked.

“Yours,” Hermione mumbled, burying her face. Marlene smiled as she carried the girl into her room. Hermione had indeed dropped further than usual, which was fine by her. A very Little Hermione was always a very cuddly Hermione.

She got them into her room, situating them so that Marlene was sitting up at the head, Hermione draped across her lap with her head on Marlene’s chest. 

“Ba?” Hermione asked, once Marlene had tucked her blanket around her. Marlene summoned a bottle, having gotten into the habit of keeping a few ready with stasis charms after Harry’s birthday. Hermione spit her dummy out to accept the bottle eagerly. 

Marlene held Hermione close, humming a song softly as the girl drank her bottle. By the time she finished, her eyes were drooping heavily, body going totally limp as she got sleepy. Marlene kissed her forehead as she took the bottle, summoning Hermione’s bunny for her before readjusting to lay down with her, snuggled close.

“Mar?”

“Yes, love?”

“Sleep with you?”

“Yes love, you’re going to sleep with me tonight.”

“No…at school?”

Marlene paused, surprised at the question, but she pressed another kiss to the top of the girl’s head.

“You can sleep with me at school if that’s what you want to do, little one.”

Hermione yawned in response, burrowing closer in satisfaction at the answer, rubbing the bunny ear over her cheek. Marlene hummed once more, and in no time at all she was rewarded with quiet snores.

Hermione sat next to Ginny on the train, listening as Neville explained the botanical garden his gran took him to the previous week. She’d woken up between headspaces, but Marlene managed to help her up before dropping her off at the station. Now she was enjoying a Cauldron Cake, a treat as Harry once again bought them entirely too many snacks off the trolley.

“Anyway, Gran promised to let me get a few plants after this year,” Neville finished. “She just didn’t want to care for them while I was at school, and she wasn’t sure I’d be allowed to have them in the greenhouses.”

“I’m sure Professor Sprout wouldn’t mind,” Harry said. 

“Though waiting will give you time to decide what to start with,” Ginny added. “It’s nice of your gran to agree to help you start a personal greenhouse, though.”

“I thought so,” Neville agreed, “though I can’t tell if she’s excited I’m going back to redo my last year, she’s proud of the battle, or if she’s happy I’m a Caregiver.”

“No reason it can’t be all of them, mate,” Harry said, idly flipping through his Chocolate Frog cards. “Imagine if you’d gotten Head Boy, though, she’d really lose it.”

“True,” Neville laughed, then he paused and looked over at Hermione. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be in the Prefect compartment?”

Hermione sighed, biting her lip as she looked out the window. It wasn’t Neville’s fault, he didn’t know yet. She felt Ginny reach to place a hand on her shoulder, and took a deep breath, deciding to get the next person over with.

“I’m a Little,” Hermione said slowly, willing her voice to not shake. “And the board of governors and the Ministry has decided that Littles cannot be Prefects, so…they took my badge.”

“That’s rubbish,” Neville said. “They can’t just decide that! I mean, some Littles are still teenagers, so what difference would it make?”

“That argument doesn’t really help me. I drop pretty young,” Hermione mumbled.

“Still rubbish. I doubt they knew that before they made their decision, and it’s not like it would be hard to excuse you from Prefect duties if you had to drop,” Neville said stubbornly. 

“The school board and the Ministry have always been rubbish,” Harry said. “Look at Umbridge. They gave us her before Voldemort took over.”

“We got rid of Death Eaters but that doesn’t mean we got rid of the stupid people,” Ginny sighed. “I’m really sorry, Hermione.”

“Me too.”

“And me.”

“Thanks, everyone,” Hermione sighed. “On the upside I’ll have more time to prepare for NEWTs, so that’s a relief, at least.”

“We’re getting close,” Ginny said, gesturing out the window. “Time to get dressed.”

The four moved to grab their robes, pulling them on in anticipation of arriving. Conversation turned to lighter topics as they climbed into the carriages, except for a brief observation when Harry pointed out that most students seemed able to see thestrals for the first time this year. Hermione had shivered at the sight, grateful that Ginny discreetly held her hand for the carriage ride.

By the time they were seated in the Great Hall for dinner, Hermione had started to feel that fuzzy pull. It lurched in her stomach when she looked up at the staff table and Marlene greeted her with a wave, a small voice in the back of her mind begging her to go sit with Marlene for dinner. She shrugged it off, focusing on the table in front of her instead of looking at anyone else at the head table, unable to even pay attention to the Sorting Hat’s song. 

Ginny tapped her on the shoulder when McGonagall stood in front of the hall, commanding absolute silence with one hand. 

“Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts,” she called. “Before we begin our feast, we want to take a moment to acknowledge those that lost their lives at this very school defeating Voldemort this past May.”

The Hall fell into an unearthly silence as McGonagall read off the names of everyone who was killed during the Battle of Hogwarts. Ginny reached and held Hermione’s hand again, both squeezing at mentions of those like Lupin and Tonks, Colin Creevey, even Lavender Brown.

Once she finished the lengthy list, McGonagall paused to bow her head for a moment, before lifting her goblet in a toast, clearly fighting tears as she did so. 

“To those we lost, may they have not died in vain!”

The entire hall lifted a glass, drinking along to the toast.

“Now, we have a few more announcements, but first, let us feast!”

Food appeared across the table, and the hall erupted into noise as students reached to fill their plates, chatting and talking. Hermione picked at her food idly, taking little bites of chicken and potatoes as she went. Hearing the list of names took the pull in her stomach that was threatening for the night and made it that much stronger.

“Hermione,” Ginny said, leaning in close, “are you close to a drop?”

“A bit,” Hermione admitted. “Dropped hard last night and it’s coming back. I can wait until after we’re done here though.”

“Do you need me to do anything?”

“No. My head doesn’t hurt yet, I can wait,” Hermione insisted, though it didn’t stop Ginny from discreetly stealing her plate to cut up her chicken for her when no one was looking. Hermione thanked her and ate her fill instead of playing with it.

After the feast, McGonagall stood once more to make announcements, including the usual reminders to stay out of the Forbidden Forest or mind student curfew. 

“A few changes this year,” she continued, “include our staffing. Our very own Hagrid has decided to step down from teaching this year, so taking over Care of Magical Creatures is Professor Charlie Weasley, who will also be stepping up as Head of Gryffindor House.”

Cheers erupted around the hall, loudest of course from the Gryffindors, including Ginny whooping loudly. 

“That git,” Ginny said, as the cheers died down, “he told me he was teaching, he never said anything about being Head.”

“Taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts is retired Auror, Professor Marlene McKinnon.” 

Applause resumed, though more muted than that for Charlie, with the exception of Harry, Hermione, and Ginny who all clapped the loudest. 

“Taking over Transfiguration, since I have become Headmistress, will be Professor Sirius Black, whose innocence has been proven and he has been cleared of all charges.”

Applause again, though far more muted, and a murmur spread throughout the hall. Harry grumbled under his breath, but Hermione understood; only members of the Order had known the full truth of his story before this summer, after all.

“In regards to Professor Black, I want to make it clear that I have begun more stringent requirements for professors, ensuring that only safe and competent individuals take a post here at Hogwarts,” McGonagall continued. “I ask you to also remember that as I announce our new Potions mistress, and Head of Slytherin House, Narcissa Malfoy, who unfortunately could not be with us this evening.”

This time the hall erupted, some cheers, some boos, and much discussion. McGonagall raised her hand once more, commanding silence over the Hall.

“Professor Malfoy has undergone thorough interrogation and has been cleared of all charges, including with testimony under our very own Harry Potter,” McGonagall stated firmly. Hermione bit her lip, remembering Harry telling how she’d lied about him being dead to Voldemort.

It didn’t make the knot in her stomach lessen at all as she remembered her torture in Malfoy Manor, the way Narcissa stood in the background as Bellatrix pinned her down—

“Breathe,” Ginny cooed, taking her hand firmly. “Just a moment longer and I’ll get you to Marlene, but you need to calm down Mione, just breathe.”

Hermione nodded, not realizing how her eyes had filled with tears. She looked at her lap, pretending to not notice how Harry and Neville both watched her with concern. Ginny was rubbing soothing circles over her hand with her thumb, and had shifted subtly closer, almost close enough to embrace her fully.

“Finally, one more new change,” McGonagall announced, “to our Classification testing. The Ministry, under the guidance of St. Mungo’s, has decided to begin classifying students at the end of 5th year, instead of 7th. Therefore, all 6th and 7th year students who have not yet been classified will be called to my office for testing over the next few weeks.”

A rumble fell over the hall as students reacted, the older students suddenly looking much more nervous than before. Hermione barely noticed, the fuzzy feeling filling her head stronger than ever. Ginny threw an arm over her shoulder and held her close, whispering affirmations as they waited.

“In light of the new policy, I want you all to be aware that any bullying or discrimination of any student on the basis of their Classification will not by tolerated, and any such actions will have the harshest of consequences.”

McGonagall stared out over the hall, as if giving a warning glare to each student individually, before continuing. 

“With that in mind, classes will begin early tomorrow, so it’s time for us all to be off to bed. Prefects, lead your Houses to your dormitories, please.”

Hermione went to stand , Ginny joining her and automatically taking her arm. 

“Come on, I’ll take you up to Marlene before I go to the dorms, alright?”

Hermione nodded. A mild throb was beginning to pound behind her eyes, and everything in her wanted to let go. Thankfully, Marlene had met them at the end of the table and pulled them into a side room by the Hall.

“Come here, little one,” Marlene said, lifting Hermione up once they were alone. “I know a way to get back to my quarters where no one will see us, so you just relax and let go, alright?” 

Hermione nodded, laying her head on Marlene’s shoulder as her thumb found its way into her mouth. 

“Ginny, the password for Gryffindor is ‘Audi Me Rugiet’, so you can get in the dorm,” Marlene said softly. “Thank you for looking after her.”

“Of course,” Ginny said. “Good night Hermione, I’ll see you for breakfast tomorrow,” she called, as she turned and left, half running to catch up with everyone else.

“A lot just happened, hm?” Marlene asked, being careful to take back hallways back to her quarters so Hermione could have some privacy. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“That’s alright, little love. We’ll go get ready for bed, and tomorrow will be a good day, hm?”

“Bottle?”

“Did you eat dinner, darling?” Marlene asked.

“A little,” Hermione mumbled. “Gin helped.”

“That was nice of her,” Marlene said softly. “But of course, love, we’ll get you a bottle, after a quick bath, and then we’ll head to bed.”

Hermione cooed in response, going fully limp in Marlene’s arms as she was taken upstairs, finally allowing herself to fully let go.

Chapter Text

Hermione woke early, thankfully back in her normal headspace. She vanished the nappy she’d requested the previous evening with a quick wave of her wand, thankful that it had been dry. 

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Marlene said, entering the room from the sitting room that was attached to her quarters. She’d already gotten dressed for the day, hair pulled back in anticipation of her first day teaching. 

“And big,” Hermione added, stretching as she stood. 

“Well, before you get dressed, I have something for you.”

Hermione turned and looked. Standing still as Marlene approached with a necklace. It was a simple silver chain, with a pendant stamped with the Gryffindor lion crest. Marlene fastened it around her neck.

“I heard about a very clever girl who started a student group that had coins which heated when a new message was sent out,” Marlene said, causing Hermione to blush, “and it gave Sirius and I an idea. We have similar pendants, though I’m charming mine to be concealed just to be less obvious. If you drop, or if your magical signature detects distress, it lets me know, and burns with an intensity to match how badly you need help.”

Hermione looked down at the pendant, taking it in. She had to admit, it was a smart idea, in case she or Harry dropped too quickly. 

“Will it burn me?”

“No, love,” Marlene said, “just me. And Harry’s will burn Sirius, and even then it won’t be a bad burn, just enough to let us know to check in when we’re able or to get to you immediately. We also told McGonagall, who is having one made for every Little and Caregiver/babysitter pair that we’ll have.”

“What if I need you and you’re in class?” Hermione asked. Her schedule had plenty of free periods, as a 7th year, but Marlene’s wouldn’t have nearly as many.

“If it’s very bad, I’ll dismiss my class early or get someone to cover,” Marlene promised. “For everything else, there’s Krafty.”

As if on cue, Krafty the house elf popped in, standing before the pair. Hermione gave her a once over, noting that the elf wore a proper outfit instead of sackcloth.

“Hello,” Krafty squeaked. “Krafty is pleased to be helping with the Little students! If Little Miss Granger need anything, please ask Krafty, and if Little Miss Granger needs help, Krafty will help find a professor!”

“Thank you, Krafty,” Hermione said kindly, looking between Marlene and the elf. She was conflicted at the idea of a house elf being assigned to her, but Marlene held up her hand.

“Krafty, like all school elves now, is a paid Hogwarts employee, and she volunteered specifically to work with Littles, specifically you and Harry.”

“Krafty was a friend of Dobby,” the elf squeaked. “We take jobs in his memory, to be free like Dobby. Krafty wants to help Little Miss Granger and Little Master Potter, because they were friends to Dobby.”

“I am very grateful to Dobby,” Hermione said. “And I appreciate it, Krafty. I’ll let you know if you need anything.”

“Krafty and the other elves that are helping Littles are all tuned into your necklace as well, so that they can help find you help in case I can’t get to you,” Marlene finished. 

Hermione nodded, thanking Krafty once again as the elf popped away, possibly to introduce herself to Harry.

“Now,” Marlene said, “finish getting dressed because I’m willing to bet Ginny is waiting outside right about now to meet you for breakfast.”

Sure enough, as Hermione exited Marlene’s quarters into a large hallway near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Ginny was leaned against the wall, waiting patiently. 

“Ready?” Ginny asked, and Hermione nodded and followed her to the Great Hall, chatting excitedly about their first day of classes together as they sat down and began to eat breakfast. Hermione had just finished her toast when she saw the Heads wandering around the Hall.

Charlie Weasley walked around the table, handing out timetables to each of the Gryffindors. He paused to throw an arm around Ginny in greeting before passing schedules to her and Hermione. 

“Bad luck having potions today,” he said, dropping to crouch between them. “I have spoken to Professor Malfoy, and I do think it truly is safe, but if there’s any problems do let me know immediately and I’ll take care of it.”

Hermione nodded, gritting her teeth. McGonagall said it was okay. She wouldn’t let a Malfoy teach if she wasn’t sure it was safe, right? 

Still, Narcissa watched her get tortured by her own sister, and she did nothing. But then again, Voldemort had her son, so what could she do?

“Oh go on, Mione,” Ginny said, elbowing her lightly. “We have classes with Sirius and Charlie today too, so it shouldn’t be all bad.”

“I’ve also got Ancient Runes,” Hermione mused. “So I’ll be busy, at the very least.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Hermione finished her glass of pumpkin juice just as Neville came and sat across from them, looking over his timetable as he did so.

“Not a bad first day,” he mused, and Hermione remembered that he had dropped potions the first chance he got. 

“Where’s Harry?” Ginny asked, looking around. Hermione glanced around as well, noticing that Sirius was curiously absent from the head table, even as everyone else was filing in.

“Went to go see Sirius,” Neville said. “Spent half the night raging at Malfoy’s mum teaching, wouldn’t shock me if he’s dragged him straight to McGonagall.”

“Wonder if we’ll have class today,” Ginny said, nodding up to the head table. “Still haven’t seen her.”

Hermione hummed, remembering her conversation with Marlene earlier that summer. 

“Not all professors live here, apparently. Marlene told me. So she may just not have come in yet this morning.”

“Or one of her students is already scheduled for classification,” Neville shrugged. “Apparently there’s already a few starting this morning, ones that showed signs of not being Neutral.”

“Either way, Mione, your Ancient Runes class is starting soon,” Ginny prodded. “I have a free period, want me to hang out nearby?”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine,” Hermione said, and she meant it. She felt herself, her old school mindset already taking back over as she gathered her things and walked the halls towards her first class. She was able to stay focused and engaged throughout Ancient Runes, and it felt like everything was back to normal.

Transfiguration went surprisingly well with Sirius teaching, as she seemed shockingly competent. He started off the 7th year lesson with a discussion on Animagi, the long process, and even an explanation of the process of registering with the Ministry. Hermione and the others hung around for a few after class.

“Since when do you care about registration?” Harry grinned.

“Since Minnie threatened a year’s worth of detention if I helped any student through the process without going through the legal procedure,” Sirius said, a twinkle in his eye.

“Does she know you’re still calling her Minnie?” Hermione asked.

“No, and I’ll thank you lot to keep it that way.”

Lunch proceeded as normal, Harry and Ginny talking Quidditch while Hermione worked on a translation assignment, ever eager to get ahead. The afternoon’s Care of Magical Creatures class was uneventful, as Charlie spent the entire lesson on safety regulations.

“Ministry insisted,” he later told them, as others packed to leave. “Apparently they were horrified this class had a textbook that bit people. Fancy that.”

Hermione was in a jovial mood until it was time to approach the dungeons. Her stomach turned to knots at the thought, though she shuffled forward, Ginny taking her arm to lead her while Harry walked behind.

“It’s going to be alright,” Ginny murmured, “for both of you. McGonagall wouldn’t let this happen if it wasn’t safe. And I’ll help if anything happens.”

“Me, too,” Neville said, appearing suddenly as they all moved to take seats at the back. He slid into the chair next to Harry. “I went and talked with Charlie, and they’re allowing me to take class this year and try for my NEWT.”

“Really? Why would you want to, mate?” Harry asked. Neville shrugged.

“May as well know how to use the plants I grow to their fullest extent. Besides, might be good to keep an eye on things.”

Hermione bit her lip, keeping her eyes trained to the board ahead. The handwriting on it suggested that Narcissa had taught earlier that day, taking away her last hope that maybe the woman hadn’t shown. 

A hush overtook the classroom as the door opened, and in waltzed Narcissa Malfoy. She looked better than when Hermione had last seen her; clearly she’d finally gotten some rest, safe away from Voldemort. The woman looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each student, and when she got to Hermione her expression softened, as if sad.

Hermione felt blue rise to her throat. Her chest was tight, she couldn’t breathe. She’d seen that exact look before, in Narcissa Malfoy’s house, when her sister—

Her sister— 

“We’re going,” Ginny said quietly, standing and taking Hermione’s arm. “Come with me, come on, let’s go,” she said, leading them out.

Hermione thought she heard Ginny say more, but none of it registered. She let herself be led out of the classroom, making it down the thankfully empty hallway before her legs gave out completely and she collapsed to the floor. She buried her face in her arms, hearing a crack and some talking, but she couldn’t focus on it. 

The only thing she could hear and process was Bellatrix. Her voice. Her own screams. Looking around during the torture for help, for anyone to make her stop. Meeting Narcissa’s eyes, watching even Narcissa flinch in response to her torture—

“Come on,” Ginny murmured, lifting Hermione entirely. Hermione went limp in her arms, sobs tearing through her body as she was carried. She briefly wondered if anyone in the castle saw her, but she couldn’t stop, her chest ached, she couldn’t breathe. Bellatrix was on her, putting her weight in her ribs, pinning her down—

“I’m here, little love.”

The vice on her lungs let off a little pressure, and Hermione could breathe. The sobs still rolled, she couldn’t see through the tears, but she reached for the source of the voice and buried her face in it, wailing loudly.

“It’s alright, my darling, I’m right here, and you’re safe,” Marlene soothed. “No one’s going to get you, love. I’m right here.”

Hermione gripped on to Marlene’s robes until her knuckles were white, sobbing so hard she’d have to stop and cough. Marlene carried her and soothed her while she walked, whispering affirmations as she did so. By the time Hermione had calmed enough to look up, she saw that they were seated in the big squishy armchair in Marlene’s quarters.

“There’s my girl,” Marlene cooed, using a thumb to wipe Hermione’s tears off her cheeks. “Did something happen to scare you?”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but no words happened. She made a strangled noise, before Marlene just nodded in understanding and kissed her forehead, summoning her dummy and popping it in her mouth. 

“Narcissa just walked inside the class,” Ginny said, and Hermione looked up, surprised to still see her there. “Hermione had been nervous, but Malfoy just looked around and she…I don’t know if she dropped, or just panicked, honestly.”

“Both,” Marlene sighed. “It’s a panic drop. It happens to Littles when they’re suddenly very upset.”

“She, um…she did wet herself,” Ginny said softly. “But I vanished it and cast a cleaning charm before anyone else noticed, I promise.”

Hermione wailed at the thought, burying her face in Marlene’s robes once more, humiliated at the thought of Ginny cleaning up after her. Marlene rubbed her back, standing gently with Hermione in her arms. 

“Thank you for taking care of her,” Marlene said. “We’ll be right back, I think we’ll both be more comfortable out of these robes and in softer clothes.”

Hermione stayed hidden as Marlene carried her into her bedroom, summoning out a soft set of pajamas and a nappy for Hermione. She changed her quickly, while Hermione kept her face hidden in her hands, muffled wails escaping from behind her dummy. 

“It’s alright, little love,” Marlene soothed. “It’s normal to drop far when it’s a panic drop. You’re alright, sweet girl, and Ginny isn’t mad at you. She wants to help and make sure you’re okay.”

Hermione whined, rubbing her eyes as she did so. She hated how Marlene knew what she was thinking, and hated more that Marlene had to be wrong. She was too Little for Ginny. She had to be. 

Ginny was still standing awkwardly in a corner when Marlene brought Hermione back in, rubbing her arms as she waited. She looked up and smiled hopefully at Hermione as Marlene pulled out her wand, transfiguring the armchair into a sofa so they could all sit.

“It’s alright now, little one,” Marlene said, pulling Hermione in her lap as she gestured for Ginny to join them. “No one is mad at you, sweetie. You’re safe here. No one is going to get you.”

“Too Little,” Hermione whined.

“Never too Little for me, darling,” Marlene promised. “And Ginny is still right here too, I don’t think you’ve been too much for her.”

“You can be as Little as you need to be, Hermione,” Ginny promised. “I just want you to feel okay.”

Hermione whined again, and Marlene soothed her, holding her close and summoning her bunny for her to cuddle while she calmed down. Once the tears and whines calmed down, Marlene pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Hermione, would you like a bottle, love?”

Hermione nodded, yawning despite herself. She hated dropping fast. It was always exhausting. She hated how many naps she took in headspace.

“Panic drops make you sleepy, hm?” Marlene said softly. “Krafty?”

The house elf popped into the room, offering a small bow on her arrival. 

“Krafty, can you get a warm bottle for Hermione?” 

“Right away, Miss Marlene!” Krafty cracked away and reappeared a moment later, warm bottle in hand. 

“Thank you,” Marlene said, dismissing the elf. She held up the bottle for Hermione when Ginny cleared her throat. 

“Can, um,” Ginny said, “can I try to help? I’ve never given a bottle, and, uh, well, in case she ever drops and you’re teaching, I want to know how to take care of her, too.”

Hermione watched as Marlene’s gaze softened, before she looked back down to her. 

“What do you think, little one? Can Ginny help you with this bottle?”

Hermione didn’t answer, just hugging her bunny for a moment in thought before wriggling out of Marlene’s lap, moving to drape herself across Ginny’s and spitting out her dummy in anticipation. 

“There’s your answer,” Marlene chuckled. “Here’s her bottle, make sure you angle it up…”

Hermione snuggled in, pleased that she felt as secure in Ginny’s arms as she did with Marlene. She closed her eyes as the bottle’s nipple entered her mouth and began to drink. It wasn’t long before the exhaustion completely took over, and she drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Marlene hummed gently. She was laid across the transfigured sofa in her quarters, a little Hermione sprawled on top of her suckling her dummy while they both listened to Sirius mumble to himself while he went over his lesson plans. 

Potions class had ended, and Harry had immediately gone to complain to Sirius before coming to check on Hermione. Once they calmed him, Ginny went with him to plan some things for Quidditch tryouts, leaving Hermione to get some rest. She’d napped a bit, but woke still very little. 

It was okay, Marlene told herself. Panic drops do that. And her little one had only recently settled, after all. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“I’ll get it,” Sirius offered, rising to go answer. Marlene could barely see over the back of the sofa the way she was laying, and Sirius was careful to keep his voice low, but Marlene could tell he wasn’t pleased. Her suspicions were confirmed when he closed the door and walked around. 

“It’s Narcissa,” he said carefully, glancing down at Hermione. Marlene felt the girl tense up and move to run, but she caught her and shifted to sit up, pulling Hermione into her lap and letting the girl hide her face in her shoulder. 

“What does she want?” Marlene asked. Hermione let out a small whine, prompting Marlene to summon a blanket and swaddle her as best she could in their position.

“She wanted to talk to Hermione and apologize,” Sirius said gently. “I don’t think she means any harm.”

“Up to you, little love. If you want to talk to her I’ll be right here the whole time, but you’re welcome to tell her to go away.”

Marlene held the girl tight, giving her time to process and think, having learned before that she can be full of surprises. Finally, Hermione nodded, though she didn’t look up from where she’d hidden her face.

“Let her in,” Marlene said, watching as Sirius took a deep breath and went to the door. 

Narcissa entered the room slowly, bowing her head in greeting as she did and being sure to keep her distance from the pair on the sofa. Marlene watched as Narcissa’s eye traveled over the swaddled girl in her lap. She felt the urge to snap at her colleague when she noticed how the woman’s gaze went soft at the sight.

“I wanted to apologize,” Narcissa said gently. “Both for scaring you, and for standing by while Bellatrix…well,” she said, pausing as Hermione tensed at the mention of her torturer’s name.

“I’m right here, love, you’re safe,” Marlene murmured. Once Hermione had settled again, she looked up and bid Narcissa continue.

“I regret not putting a stop to my sister. At the time I must admit, I was afraid…I feared what would be done to Draco if I did not let her have her way, given how close she was to the Dark- to Voldemort,” Narcissa explained, and her shudder at the name did not go unnoticed by Marlene, though she recognized it as her trying to do better.

“Still, that does nothing to change the harm that was done to you,” Narcissa continued. “And I know that harm runs deeply, and that seeing me can bring it back to the surface, so. If you wish to pursue your NEWT in Potions but cannot pursue it with me, I will call in some favors to get you a tutor that can be sure you’re ready. I’ve already cleared the idea with Professor McGonagall.”

“That’s generous of you,” Sirius said warily.

“It’s the least I can do after…everything that happened,” Narcissa said carefully. “Miss Granger, you do not have my class again until the end of this week, so give it a thought and send me word of your decision. I do hope you get to feeling better soon, in any case.”

Marlene watched as Narcissa quietly excused herself, leaving her quarters. The girl in her arms was still trembling softly. After checking the door, Sirius came and sat next to the pair, gently reaching to lay a hand on her shoulder.

“She’s gone, cub,” Sirius said softly. “Made sure myself.”

“You’re safe, little one,” Marlene cooed. “We can talk about the rest when you’re feeling bigger, hm?”

The trio stayed in Marlene’s quarters through dinner, Krafty happy to bring the adults a plate and Hermione a bottle with a nourishment elixir inside, since she wasn’t feeling up to eating. Marlene had nearly finished giving her the bottle when her door opened, followed by loud voices and stomping feet.

“Siri!” Harry called. “You’ll never guess who was at dinner!”

Marlene shushed Hermione gently, though she noticed the girl’s gaze turn to Harry, and her own followed. The boy had clearly dropped, and had also clearly ran all the way here, judging by how Ginny and Neville trailed behind him, out of breath.

“‘Lo, Hermione,” Ginny gasped, while Neville wheezed and offered a wave.

“Slow down, pup, Hermione has had a rough afternoon, you need to use inside voices please,” Sirius gently scolded. “Now, who was at dinner?”

“Malfoy! Draco Malfoy! That git came back to school!”

“Language, pup,” Sirius scolded again. Harry just scowled in response.

“Can’t be mad,” Hermione mumbled. “‘Member?”

“I think what Hermione means,” Ginny said, “is what I was trying to tell you earlier, Harry. Voldemort lived in his house, for Merlin’s sake. He didn’t get a lot of choices on how he was the past few years.”

“Was still a git before Voldemort,” Harry pouted, crossing his arms. 

“We should still give him a chance, mate,” Neville said. “Besides, it’s easy enough to avoid him.”

“He saw us and looked nearly green,” Ginny said, “though if he missed classes today he might be ill.”

“Still a git,” Harry pouted, finally reaching the limit of Sirius’ patience judging by how he stood and clapped a hand on his shoulder. 

“Alright, Harry, that’s enough,” Sirius said, guiding him to the door. “Tell everyone good night, we’ll be going to bed early I think.”

“Good night,” Marlene called as Sirius led Harry out, and Hermione untangled a hand from her swaddle to offer a tiny wave.

“We should probably go too, eh, Nev?” Ginny said.

“Probably. Glad to see you’re feeling better, Hermione, sleep well,” Neville said, rubbing the back of his neck self consciously. 

“Night, Professor. Night ‘Mione,” Ginny called, following Neville out. Marlene waited until she heard the click of her door closing. 

“Now that everyone is gone, little one, what do you say to a bath and a story before bed, hm?”

Hermione nodded, tucking her face into the crook of Marlene’s neck.

Marlene smiled softly, so grateful to have the trust of her little one, as she lifted the girl and took her to have a nice long bubble bath.

Chapter Text

Hermione awoke feeling like herself, if a little groggy. She shook her head as she sat up, crawling out of Marlene’s bed where she’d fallen asleep the previous night and stepping into her small bedroom to get dressed.

“Hermione? How are you feeling, darling?” Marlene called from the sitting room.

“Fine,” Hermione said, emerging and pulling out her timetable, packing her bag for the day’s classes. “Back to normal.”

“Hermione, love…after a panic drop like yesterday, being out of headspace this fast is anything but normal.”

Hermione felt a pit in her stomach. She felt fine, though, didn’t she? Her head didn’t hurt, her stomach was fine, and she was ready for her Charms class right after breakfast.

“I don’t feel close to a drop though,” she said.

“It’s unusual,” Marlene repeated. “Maybe we should pop by before breakfast and see Madam Pomfrey. She hasn’t checked your core since you got classified, it may be good to get an update in any case.”

Hermione thought it over. If Marlene was so sure she should still be dropped, then maybe it was worth a trip. Besides, it was early, she still had plenty of time for a quick breakfast after.

“Alright,” she sighed, “but I do feel fine, really.”

“I believe you,” Marlene said, “but just to be safe, let’s check,” she added, throwing an arm over Hermione’s shoulder and leading her out.

Hermione allowed herself to be led to the Hospital Wing, where she could see Madam Pomfrey’s shoes underneath a curtain drawn around one bed. The complete silence made it clear that a muffling charm had been cast, which made her worry. It felt like second year, with petrified students hidden away all over again.

“Ah, Miss Granger,” she called, stepping beyond the curtain, “everything alright?”

“We wondered if we can get a quick check-up,” Marlene said. “If you have a moment.”

“Lucky for you, my first classification test this morning was quick,” she said, gesturing to the curtains, where none other than Ginny was walking out.

“Oh, hello! You’ll never guess Hermione, I’m a Caregiver,” Ginny beamed. “First one in Weasley history, as far as anyone can tell.”

“That’s brilliant, Gin,” Hermione grinned.

“Congratulations,” Marlene winked. 

“I’ll wait outside for you, Hermione, and then we can go to breakfast together,” Ginny said, beaming as she left the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey gestured them over, having Hermione sit on a cot as she closed the curtain around them and cast a muffling charm.

“Ministry has me running ragged with all the last minute classifications,” she said, fussing around with potions vials on a side table. “I asked for someone from St. Mungo’s to come help, but they can’t seem to spare anyone.”

“That’s rough,” Marlene said. “We can come back if you’re busy.”

“Nonsense,” Madam Pomfrey said. “Miss Weasley was my only appointment before breakfast, and even then it’s because I figured she’d be Neutral like all her brothers. Caregiver was a nice surprise, but thankfully the test still didn’t take long.”

“I figured Gin is a Caregiver,” Hermione said softly. “She helps me a lot.”

“That makes sense, then,” Madam Pomfrey said. “Now, a diagnostic spell for you….hm. That’s strange.”

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat, but thankfully Marlene beat her to asking.

“What’s strange?”

“There’s no harm,” Madam Pomfrey said quickly. “Your core isn’t in danger, but your reading are still…off. It’s like you haven’t fully settled into your headspace just yet.”

“But I have!” Hermione protested. “I’m not fighting it, I let it happen when it needs to, what else can I do?”

“Calm down,” Madam Pomfrey soothed, as Marlene sat on the edge of the cot and wrapped an arm around Hermione. “We’re seeing some oddities from a few people since the war. It’s clear the war and its trauma is having an effect, though we can’t pinpoint what. In either case, it does look like something is preventing you from settling fully.”

“I’m not fighting it,” Hermione argued, hating how whiny she sounded. 

“You’re not,” Marlene said, squeezing the girl gently. “She’s not saying you are, love.”

“Not at all,” Madam Pomfrey confirmed. “Can I ask, what made you both come in? Just needed a check up, or?”

Hermione’s face felt hot and she looked away, nudging Marlene to speak for her. Thankfully, her Caregiver understood.

“She had a panic drop yesterday,” Marlene said, “but woke up out of headspace this morning. It was a rough drop, so I thought coming up that quickly was unusual.”

“It is,” Madam Pomfrey said thoughtfully, “though it is a sign she hasn’t settled. Still, we don’t know yet what keeps some Littles from doing so. She’s not the only one having this problem, I assure you.”

“Harry is okay, isn’t he?” Hermione said quickly.

“Mr. Potter is fine, he isn’t who I meant,” Madam Pomfrey said, “St. Mungo’s has a case that’s similarly unusual, and they haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Is there anything we can do for now?” Marlene asked, and the medi-witch shook her head. 

“Keep doing what you’re doing, and keep me posted,” she said. “If I hear anything that could be useful from St. Mungo’s or the Ministry I’ll send for you. As for now, Miss Granger, your magical core is safe, even if not fully settled.”

Hermione nodded, feeling sick at her stomach. She was doing everything right, she’d even accepted needing a nappy in headspace, what else could she possibly do? She let herself be led by Marlene out into the hall, where Ginny was still waiting. 

“Everything okay, Mione?” Ginny asked, concern on her face as soon as she saw how Hermione had paled. 

“Maybe,” Hermione groaned. “I’ll fill you in.”

“Keep an eye out for me?” Marlene asked Ginny, who agreed immediately. Hermione hated feeling like she was being babysat, but she couldn’t blame Marlene. If her headspace was still unstable, who knew how the day would go, after all. 

Hermione recounted it all to Ginny, who nodded along as they walked to breakfast. By the time they arrived they only had a moment to grab something quickly before it was time to head off to classes.

Hermione tried to focus on her schooling, but as she, Harry, Neville, and Ginny walked the hallways between classes, she couldn’t help but notice whispers about her. It wasn’t super unusual, she supposed; after all, her best friend growing up was the Boy Who Lived, and there was the Rita Skeeter disaster her 4th year. Still, this felt oddly pointed, and she couldn’t figure out why until Herbology let out in the late afternoon. 

“Make way for little Granger, everyone,” called the annoying drawl of Zacharias Smith. Hermione stiffened. Of course, Ginny had helped her escape quickly, but he was in Potions too; he would’ve seen her suddenly need to leave and put together the reason. 

“Shut up, Smith,” Harry snapped, though Hermione wished he wouldn’t. 

“You never showed for dinner last night,” Zacharias continued, not at all deterred by the way Harry and Neville glared at him. “Neither did McKinnon or Black, really. Let me guess, are they your mummy and daddy?”

Hermione felt the bile rise in her throat. She thought through last night, where she laid on Marlene and Sirius sat near by, but then thoughts went to her parents, the last time she saw them, and they didn’t know her—

She ran. She briefly heard Ginny called after her, heard the sparks of a spell and yelling, but she couldn’t handle any of it. She ran down halls, whipping around corners, until she felt her stomach lurch and she had to duck into the closest girls’ toilets, thankfully empty. She’d barely gotten to the stall when the contents of her lunch reappeared before her.

“I’m here,” Ginny called, automatically reaching to hold Hermione’s hair while she was sick. She heard Ginny talking to her, but her heart beat too loudly in her ears to understand anything, and she continued to empty her stomach until there was nothing left but bile. 

Hermione heard a crack, followed by Krafty’s voice. 

“Professor McKinnon felt her necklace, little Miss. She’s finishing a class and will come get you.”

“No,” Hermione groaned. The last thing she needed was Zacharias seeing her and Marlene. “I can go, I can do it, I can…”

“Krafty, I’ll take Hermione to her quarters, it isn’t far,” Ginny said, reaching to help Hermione up and support her. “Tell Professor McKinnon we’ll wait for her there.”

Krafty disappeared as Hermione argued. She could do it herself, she just didn’t feel well, she was fine, but Ginny wouldn’t hear it and escorted her all the way to the quarters she shared with Marlene, letting her collapse on the couch. Ginny had just summoned a wet cloth for Hermione to wipe her face when the door opened.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” Marlene said, rushing to sit on the sofa and look Hermione over. “I couldn’t get someone to cover my class so I had to finish quickly. Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Hermione mumbled, but she knew the high pitch whine in her voice gave her away. 

“What happened, love? You’re not dropped, I can tell that, but I can also tell you’re not well.”

Hermione groaned, feeling the urge to be sick again. Ginny summoned a basin just in time for her to spit up more bile, and she recounted the story to Marlene as Hermione coughed and spat. 

“That boy,” Marlene fumed, “I’ll be speaking to Pomona and making sure she reminds her students what happens if they get caught making such statements.”

“Make it worse,” Hermione whispered, and Marlene’s face softened. 

“I won’t, love, trust me,” she said. “For now let’s just make sure you’re feeling better, hm?”

“Not feeling Little,” Hermione groaned.

“You’re still my charge and you’re sick, darling,” Marlene said, turning to Ginny. “Thank you for taking care of her. I’m sure if Harry and Neville were there, they’ll be wanting to know how she is. I’ll send word to you all if she’s not coming to dinner, alright?”

“I’m right here,” Hermione groaned again, head hanging over the basin.

“See you later, Mione,” Ginny said, standing to go. “Feel better, okay? And I’ll hex Zacharias later, no worries.”

“I didn’t hear that!” Marlene called as Ginny left. Hermione let out a small chuckle at the thought of Ginny’s Bat Bogey Hex, and immediately regretted it as her stomach turned again. 

“Krafty!” Marlene called. The elf appeared nearly immediately.

“Do me a favor,” Marlene said. “Hermione’s got a bit of an upset stomach, can you have someone get a potion from Madam Pomfrey, and maybe a cup of tea?”

“Right away Professor!” Krafty said, cracking away. A moment later a small vial appeared on the side table, next to a cup of steaming ginger tea.

Hermione automatically reacher to take the vial, forcing herself to swallow it down. She hung her head back in the basin for a moment, expecting it to immediately return, but after a moment her stomach loosened and she felt much better.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Marlene asked, taking the basin and vanishing the contents before passing Hermione her tea. 

“Not much to talk about,” Hermione mumbled. Ginny had already told her what happened, what else could Marlene want to know?

“How about which part upset you so much?” Marlene prodded. 

“It was nothing.”

“Hermione,” Marlene said, shifting to face the girl fully, “don’t think I haven’t noticed how you shy away from any mention of your parents.”

Hermione felt her stomach knot again, though whatever Madam Pomfrey had sent kept her from getting sick this time. 

“Whatever is going on is clearly upsetting you. Do you want to talk about it, darling?”

“No,” Hermione said firmly. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to face what she had done, the horrible mistake she had made. She wasn’t sure what the legal consequences would be for performing permanent magic on Muggles, but she imagined it couldn’t be good. And anyway, they were happy in their new lives; who was she to ruin that? 

Besides, Hermione could never explain what she went through to make that decision. How she feared Voldemort attacking her family from the moment he returned, all because Harry was her best friend. How she did research on the best type of memory spells. How she did such a great job that even when she returned for the counter spell, it didn’t take, and her parents didn’t recognize her at all, only calling Australian authorities about a “stalker” while screaming that they’ve never had a daughter.

No, Hermione didn’t want to talk about it, and if she has it her way, she never will. 

“They’re traveling and wouldn’t understand this,” Hermione said, sticking with the same story she’d told Mrs. Weasley and Professor McGonagall. She then excused herself for a shower before dinner, before Marlene could question further, and completely missed the sadness in her Caregiver’s eyes.

Hermione had insisted on feeling well enough to head down to dinner, even as Marlene protested. Still, she hadn’t dropped, so Marlene finally conceded, allowing Hermione to meet up with the other Gryffindors in the hallway and follow them to the Great Hall.

“You missed it, Mione,” Harry grinned. “I turned around and threw a punch at Smith, he pulled out his wand, and Neville disarmed him!”

“Just in time for McGonagall to round the corner,” Neville grinned. “She took 20 points off us, of course, but when we mentioned what Smith had done and other people in the hallway confirmed it, she yelled at him. I haven’t seen her that mad in ages.”

“Fifty points from Hufflepuff, and he has detention for a week!” Harry laughed. “She wasn’t kidding when she said bullying Littles wouldn’t be tolerated.”

“Probably good mate, pretty sure you were yelling about being Little while you were wailing on him,” Neville pointed out. Hermione was waiting for Harry to be mortified, but he just grinned as he reached to serve himself.

“They were going to find out eventually,” he shrugged. “Besides, Hermione said we’re going to be Little together, right? So if they know about you, I’d rather they know about me, too.”

Hermione couldn’t help but smile, reaching to squeeze Harry’s hand in a quiet thanks. 

“Second day of term and you boys are already losing points?” Charlie called, walking up the table. He threw an arm around Ginny. 

“Heard about your classification,” he said. “First girl in the family and now first Caregiver, good on you.”

“We only lost twenty total,” Harry pointed out. “Not as much as Smith lost.”

“Oh, Professor Sprout had steam coming out of her ears when she heard,” Charlie winked. “Turns out she has a Little nephew, so she didn’t take too kindly to any mean word about it. Anyway, good on you boys, just don’t do it where I have to be the one to yell at you, okay?”

“Yes Professor,” Ginny said, giving him a mock salute as he headed up to the staff table. Hermione chuckled with the rest, but started toying with her dessert as she noticed more whispers and stares.

“Nothing we aren’t used to, right?” Harry said with a wink. “It’ll be okay, Mione, really.”

“And we’ll look out for you,” Ginny promised.

“Both of us,” Neville added. 

“Besides, we have plenty to do,” Harry sighed. “Second bloody day of term and we already have a dozen feet of parchment due between three classes.”

Hermione perked up as the conversation returned to classes, relaxing as she finished dessert. She still opted to stay in her room in Marlene’s quarters, but by the time Ginny had escorted her back, she felt better, knowing that even if the entire school knew her classification now, she at least had someone to watch her back.

Chapter Text

The rest of the week felt like coming home to Hermione, as the new school routine settled in. Word of Zacharias’ detentions had gotten around, so even if some people stared and whispered about her and Harry, no one had the gall to say anything.

She had remained out of headspace over the next few days. It wasn’t for lack of trying, really; she just didn’t feel the need to drop. Marlene was concerned, considering she hadn’t dropped since her panic moment in the potions classroom, but so far Hermione had no symptoms. And she was grateful for that, truly. 

Ginny and Neville were watching over her and Harry. And yes, she knew she’d need to drop again, but the longer Hermione could put that off, the better. She still heard the echoes of Zacharias referring to Marlene as her mummy, the mixture of longing and horror swirling in her stomach as memories of Marlene reading her to sleep mixed with her mother’s face, screaming that she never had a daughter.

Hermione was no fool. She knew she would have to tell someone eventually what had happened, especially now that Marlene was putting it together. But if she could put it off a little longer, at least while she got settled in the school year, so much the better. 

It was the last day of the week, and Hermione shook the thoughts of her parents out of her mind as she followed Ginny into the potions classroom. She’d considered the talk Narcissa had with her in Marlene’s quarters, and decided to give the class one more try before opting for private tutoring. It helped that Ginny would be there as well, now that it was confirmed that Ginny was also a Caregiver. 

Hermione glanced around the classroom as they waited for Narcissa to walk in, noticing that unlike the first day, Draco Malfoy was present in the front row. She bristled at his appearance, until she noticed that unlike his mother, he still didn’t look well. His face was pale, and despite the several cauldrons burning in the dungeons, he seemed to shiver under his robes. 

“Good afternoon,” Professor Malfoy said, waltzing in and up to the front of the classroom. She quickly launched into the potions for the day, a review of a burn remedy that they’d learned in their fifth year. Hermione swallowed the bile that rose at seeing the woman, turning to her cauldron to prepare for the potion.

“Doing okay?” Ginny asked quietly, as she set up her scales.

“Fine,” Hermione sighed. “I’m okay. I think I can do it.”

“Aw, is little Granger going to do potions like a big girl?” Zacharias sneered from the net table over. 

“Careful, Smith, Hufflepuff is already low on points,” Ginny growled. 

“All because someone is a stupid baby who can’t take a joke.”

“I see that Professor McGonagall’s detentions are having little effect on you,” drawled Professor Malfoy, coming up behind Zacharias. “I assure you, mine will be much more meaningful.”

Zacharias paled, turning as Narcissa glared at him. Her height combined with her shoes put her right at his eye level, but Hermione still had the distinct sense that Narcissa was looking down at him, and judging by his grimace, Zacharias agreed. 

“If you thought bullying would be acceptable in my classroom, you are sorely mistaken,” she continued. “You will see me after class to schedule your detention, and another ten points from Hufflepuff.”

The other Hufflepuff groaned, with Susan Bones staring daggers at Zacharias while Ernie MacMillian elbowed him in the ribs as soon as Narcissa turned her back. Hermione smirked, turning away from him and back to her own cauldron. 

By the end of class, Narcissa had only spoken to Hermione once, to compliment her final brew. Hermione thanked her quietly, giving a slight nod to the question in Narcissa’s eyes as she passed, confirming she would be staying in the class. For now, at least. 

Once class finished, Hermione followed Ginny, Harry, and Neville outside. The weather was beautiful, and Harry and Ginny both wanted to spend some time flying after a week of classes. Neville offered to sit with Hermione, and she figured getting ahead of next week’s work in the sunshine would be worth it. 

As the group headed inside for dinner, however, Hermione was halted by a strange sound. It was coming from one of the many hidden alcoves in the castle, and it sounded almost like someone…crying?

“Should we check that out?” Harry asked. He inched closer to the alcove, and when his jaw dropped Hermione hurried after him, peering around to see what he saw. Her jaw dropped too.

Draco Malfoy was curled in a ball, where he should’ve been out of sight. He was chewing on the end of his tie, and crying. 

“Neville, take Harry to dinner,” Ginny ordered, and Hermione agreed with her. Harry was on the edge of his headspace as it was, and now was not the time to test his aversion to Malfoy. Once the boys were gone, Ginny inched closer and knelt down next to him.

“Are you alright?” Ginny asked softly, and Draco immediately shook his head, whining slightly. Hermione couldn’t imagine what would bring this reaction, until she knelt next to Ginny and saw something on the floor.

A silver necklace. A pendant. Just like hers, only with a Slytherin serpent on it. And suddenly, it clicked. 

“Draco, did your necklace fall off?” Hermione asked, picking it up to hand it back to him. 

“Took it off,” he mumbled. “Don’t want Mum to know. Been Little too much.”

“Little?” Ginny asked. Hermione saw the shock on her face, but she recovered it before Draco could consider looking up. “Mal-Draco, I’m sure your mum wouldn’t mind it if you’re feeling Little.”

“Always Little,” Draco whined, curling in on himself further. “But can’t stay down, but…can’t, can’t stay up.”

Hermione bit her lip as she put it altogether. Why Draco hadn’t been in many classes at all this week. Why his mother was also often missing during meals, or why she got so defensive over Littles in class today. The other case of an unsettled Little that Madam Pomfrey had mentioned.

“Mine won’t settle, either,” she offered softly. “But Ma- my caregiver, she says it’s okay, no matter when it happens. I’m sure your mum feels the same.”

Draco nodded, which encouraged Ginny enough to lay a hand on his shoulder. 

“Do you want us to go find her?” Ginny offered, and Draco shook his head. 

“I’ve got an idea,” Hermione said. “Krafty?”

The house elf popped in next to the three of them, bowing deeply on her arrival, only for her large eyes to go wider when she saw Draco. 

“Little Master Malfoy! None of us felt your necklace, so sorry little Master!”

“His necklace…fell off,” Hermione explained. “So it wouldn’t have alerted you, I think.”

“Can you fetch his mum?” Ginny asked. Draco kept his face hidden in his knees next to her, though Hermione could hear the quiet sobs. 

“Right away!” Krafty said, before popping away. A moment later, Hermione looked up at rushed footsteps to see both Narcissa and Marlene approaching the alcove.

“Draco, Mummy’s here,” Narcissa cooed, leaning down and pulling Draco in a hug as Ginny moved out of the way. Hermione looked up as she heard Draco cry for her, the weird longing feeling tearing at her stomach once more. She grabbed at her stomach subtly, not noticing how Marlene eyed her closely.

“Thank you both for looking out for him,” Narcissa said quietly, running her fingers through Draco’s hair. 

“We’ll leave you to it,” Marlene said, gesturing for the girls to follow her. To Hermione’s surprise, she led them to a nearby empty classroom instead of the Great Hall.

“Tell me what happened,” she said, closing the door behind them. Ginny launched into it, how they’d gone outside after classes, to finding Draco, to Hermione calling for Krafty.

“Smart girl,” Marlene praised softly, pulling Hermione into a one-armed hug. “And good on you, Gin, for sending Harry off. Even if Harry managed himself well, there’s no telling how Draco would’ve taken seeing him.”

“Malfoy mentioned he can’t stay up or down very well,” Hermione said quietly. “Is he the other one Madam Pomfrey mentioned?”

“I’m not supposed to tell you,” Marlene sighed, “but since you’ll have pieced it together, yes, he is. He’s had a very difficult time, and I’ll thank you both for giving him space. See if you can keep Harry away, too, for now.”

“We will,” Ginny promised. Hermione nodded her agreement, not trusting herself to speak further. Her stomach had soured over the past few minutes. Marlene, as always, had an eagle eye about it.

“Darling, why don’t you and I have a quiet dinner?” Marlene suggested. “Ginny can come too, if she likes.”

“I’ll head to the Great Hall, actually,” Ginny said apologetically. “Just because Neville and Harry saw him, and the sooner I can give them any sort of update the less likely Harry is to be loud about it.”

“Good call,” Marlene nodded. “Hermione?”

“We can go to our quarters,” she replied, voice dropping. “I’m not feeling well all of a sudden, anyway.”

“That’s alright,” Marlene said, throwing an arm around the girl to escort her. “We’ll have a quiet night, and then we have the weekend to help you feel better, hm?”

Hermione nodded, allowing herself to be escorted back to their quarters, telling herself she’d feel better sooner rather than later.

She was wrong.

Marlene had gotten another vial from Madam Pomfrey when Hermione’s stomach started to turn again, along with a nutrition elixir to replace her dinner since she never ate. Hermione took both and went to bed.

In the middle of the night, she awoke screaming. Her bones felt like they were on fire, her head aching, her stomach twisting in knots. She felt like she would be sick, but sitting up to retch made her head hurt, and the pain made her dizzy. 

"It’s alright, darling, I’m here, and Madam Pomfrey is on her way,” Marlene cooed, summoning a cold cloth to lay over Hermione’s eyes. The temperature helped, but tears rolled at the pain in her bones.

“Hurts,” Hermione whined, reaching and grabbing ahold of Marlene’s nightshirt. 

“I know, darling,” Marlene soothed. “We'll get it sorted."

Madam Pomfrey came in soon after, with Professor McGonagall right behind her. 

"Poor dear, she's burning up," Madam Pomfrey sighed, pressing a hand to Hermione's forehead as she cast a diagnostic spell. She frowned as the results swirled overhead.

"Headspace sickness," Professor McGonagall gasped, and Madam Pomfrey nodded her confirmation.

"She hasn't been fighting it," Marlene said, looking at Hermione. Hermione wanted to say that Marlene was correct, but all she could do was let out a little whine.

"She hasn't settled, either," Madam Pomfrey pointed out. "I can give her a potion to cause a drop, which will help her current symptoms, but she'll drop hard. I suspect it'll be a rough weekend regardless."

"She's sick and in pain," Marlene said. "A hard drop is the least of my concerns right now."

"She has to agree," McGonagall said. "For this potion, she has to agree on it since she's not in headspace. Ministry rules."

"Please," Hermione whined. Everything hurt, she felt so sick, she would do anything to make this go away.

"I'm right here, love," Marlene said, scooping Hermione gently into her lap. "I'll be right here the whole time, I promise."

Hermione reached for Madam Pomfrey, taking the vial she offered and downing it quickly. It tasted like straight acid, and she retched slightly, though nothing came up. A moment later and her head felt fuzzy, as if full of cotton, though most of the pains in her body released.

"There's my girl," Marlene cooed, summoning her dummy and bunny. Hermione accepted her dummy quickly, burying her face as she practically melted where she laid in Marlene's lap.

"We have to figure out what's causing this," McGonagall mumbled. "For both of them. I'll be sending letters to St. Mungo's at once for advice."

"In the meantime," Madam Pomfrey said, "I'm going to pop in daily to examine her."

"Perfect," Marlene said. 

Hermione was barely listening. All she could process was her dummy in her mouth, the headache that still throbbed, and the soft bunny she held against her cheek. 

"I'll be back after breakfast," Madam Pomfrey said, and she and McGonagall quietly excused themselves. Marlene rearranged the two of them so that they were laying down, Hermione cuddled in close.

"We'll get this sorted, little one," Marlene promised, pressing a kiss to Hermione's forehead. Hermione clung to her tightly, the floaty feeling overtaking her as she finally fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Marlene found herself grateful for Hermione’s young headspace. Given how awful the girl clearly felt, every moment she was awake she was obviously miserable.

Luckily, toddlers took naps. Sick toddlers took many.

Hermione was curled up on the sofa next to her, head in Marlene’s lap as she slept soundly. She’d woken several times, each time screaming once more as fever overtook her body, but Madam Pomfrey had dropped by and said it was normal, either a side effect of the headspace sickness itself or the medication to induce the drop. Thankfully she seemed to be resting well now.

Harry was sprawled on the floor in front of her, on his back watching his Quidditch figurines play a game above him. He’d come with Sirius to check on Hermione when they didn’t go to breakfast, and the boy wouldn’t be convinced to leave his friend.

“Pup, did you want to go get lunch at the Great Hall?” Sirius asked. He was on the other end of the sofa, ignoring how Hermione occasionally rabbit-kicked him in her sleep. 

“No,” Harry replied matter of factly, careful to keep his voice low as he glanced at Hermione. Marlene appreciated the effort.

“I’ll send for you if she wakes,” Marlene tried.

“No,” Harry said again. “She wouldn’t leave me.”

That settled it, Marlene realized, as she and Sirius exchanged glances. They knew it was true. If Harry was this sick, Hermione would pitch a fit to be allowed to stay with him.

“Wish we could figure out what’s got her so sick,” Marlene murmured, carding fingers through the girl’s hair as she snored softly. 

“Either of them, really,” Sirius said, casting a careful glance to be sure Harry was back to focusing on his figurines. Marlene knew he was talking about Draco Malfoy, not Harry. 

“It’s odd,” Marlene said. “She isn’t fighting her headspace. It’s like something is stopping her from fully settling.”

“Cissa said the same,” Sirius replied, ignoring Marlene’s raised eyebrows as he resorted to the name he called his cousin in childhood. “She did say Draco’s problems started when Lucius was sent to Azkaban. Medi-wizards figure maybe there’s a connection.”

“Hermione hasn’t seen her parents since she’s been classified,” Marlene mused. “I do wonder if there is a link to their biological parents.”

Her thoughts were interrupted by a little squeak of surprise. She looked over at Harry to see him glancing between her, Hermione, and Sirius, the color drained from his face.

“Siri,” the boy asked softly, “could, could she be sick because of her parents?”

“Harry,” Sirius said firmly, “what do you know?”

Harry sat up and looked away, guilt etched all over his face. 

“She made me promise not to tell.”

“Darling, if it could help her feel better and not get so sick, you need to tell us,” Marlene urged gently. “She would forgive you, love, I’m sure of it.”

“Well, I, uh,” Harry stammered. “When…when we went to search for Horcruxes, and we didn’t go to school last year, Ron had his plan where his family faked him being sick. And we asked Hermione what her plan was, and she told us…she’s going to be mad.”

“Pup, if it’s a secret that can be hurting her, you need to tell us,” Sirius said. 

Harry nodded, nudging his glasses out of the way and wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand as he continued. 

“She told us…she learned some memory charms. And, uh, she might’ve wiped her parents’ memory and given them false identities and sent them to Australia.”

He spat the rest out quickly, as if saying it fast would mean that Marlene and Sirius didn’t hear him. But they did. Marlene sat in shock for a moment, and one glance at Sirius told her he had no idea about any of it.

“But she, she went back and put them right! They just liked their new life in Australia and wanted to stay,” Harry added quickly. His face turned pink as the adults stared at him, and Marlene watched as big tears rolled down his cheeks. 

“Pup, are you sure she put them right?” Sirius asked, and that caused Harry to drop into full-blown sobs. Sirius immediately scooped him up, holding him closely as he cried.

“It’s alright, Harry,” Marlene said, reaching up as Sirius walked near to put a hand on the boy’s arm.

“It is,” Sirius agreed. “You were trying to protect your friend. And she was trying to protect her parents,” he soothed.

Hermione stirred, whimpering in her sleep, and Marlene worried that the girl had heard their conversation. 

“Come along, Harry, let’s go calm down in our quarters so that Marlene can get Hermione settled,” Sirius said, gathering Harry’s toys with a wave of his wand as he carried the crying boy out. 

“Come see us later,” Marlene called, grateful for Sirius’ nod of agreement as he stepped out. She turned and scooped Hermione up, thankful that it just took some gentle rocking to settle the girl once more. 

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Marlene cooed, as Hermione drifted off to sleep, “what have you done?”

Marlene’s hands shook as she drank her tea. She’d gotten Hermione up to have a bottle, and the girl was back down now, sleeping in her bed with so many wards active that Marlene would be alerted if she so much as rolled over.

Meanwhile, Marlene sat on her sofa with Sirius, who kept a steady hand on her knee in silent support. Ginny and Neville had thankfully agreed to sit with Harry so that he could stay with Marlene for her meeting with the headmistress.

McGonagall sat in a cushy armchair, lips disappearing in a thin line as they finished recounting what they had learned from Harry earlier that day. 

“I swear, had I known sooner,” Marlene said, her cup clattering against the saucer she held. Sirius reached and took both from her gently, moving to set it on the side table next to him.

“Those three have always pulled big stunts,” McGonagall sighed, “but this…what on earth was she thinking?”

“She was thinking of her mum and dad, obviously,” Sirius said, running a hand through his hair. “She was thinking of all the horrible stories she’s heard and things she’s seen, and her status as Undesirable No. 2.”

“She could’ve asked for help,” Marlene said. 

“We didn’t know where those three went until they were already gone,” McGonagall sighed again. “Dumbledore didn’t share information about the Horcruxes with many people, and I’m sure they kept the details to themselves following his lead.”

“What do we do now?” Sirius asked, placing his hand back on Marlene’s knee. She reached down and took it, grateful for the contact keeping her grounded as she waited McGonagall’s decision.

“I can wait until she’s out of headspace so we can get more details from her,” McGonagall said, “but I am, unfortunately, going to have to inform the Ministry. This is magic on Muggles, possibly without their knowledge or consent, and what’s worse is she may have done permanent harm.”

“What’s going to happen to her?” Marlene’s voice cracked as she asked.

“I’m not sure,” the headmistress answered. “Usually this is a crime befitting Azkaban, but given the circumstances…”

Marlene tensed her jaw, willing the tears to stay back as she continued.

“But her Classification…Littles don’t go to Azkaban, do they?”

“Not usually, no,” McGonagall said, “and that may be her saving grace, though it doesn’t mean she’d get to stay.”

“What do we have to do to keep her here, finishing her education and moving on?” Sirius asked. Marlene was grateful; her voice was failing her at the moment.

“If we can prove a bond between her and her Caregiver, it would be a start,” McGonagall said.

“We have a bond,” Marlene said suddenly, remembering Hermione’s nightmares in the summer. She told them of the cursed wound that Bellatrix had left on the girl, how St. Mungo’s couldn’t heal it, but Marlene was able to.

“That cut should be documented,” Sirius said, “so there would be strong evidence.”

“Even still,” McGonagall replied, “you may have a stronger case if you make it official. Have you spoken to her about that yet?”

“I was going to wait until she finished school,” Marlene said softly. She wasn’t sure Hermione even knew that part of being Little, about the formal Adoption process that bonded together a Little and a Caregiver in the eyes of the Ministry, regardless of the physical age of both participants. It was something that was supposed to be able to wait; after all, Hermione came to her because of a medical need, so who was to say she’d want to stay with Marlene forever?

“It’s worth discussing with her,” McGonagall said warily, eyeing Marlene’s tense expression. “When she’s feeling a bit older. In the meantime, I’ll reach out to some of my contacts at the Ministry and see what can be done before I report it officially. At the very least, it may be good that Kingsley is acting Minister.”

With that final thought, McGonagall stood, excusing herself to send some owls to her contacts. Marlene stared at the ground, finally letting tears slip through as she stared at the door leading to the room where Hermione slept.

“I can’t lose my Little girl,” she said softly, ignoring the hot tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked to Sirius. “Not again.”

“You won’t,” Sirius said. “She did a big thing, but for good reason, and there was a war on. We’ll get this all sorted, don’t you worry.” 

Marlene sighed, accepting Sirius’ offer of her tea once more. As she sipped it, she kept her eyes trained on the door, trying to figure out how she was going to get her girl out of this mess.

Chapter Text

Hermione shifted nervously on the sofa, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. It was late on Sunday evening, and she’d finally managed to come up from her headspace, thankfully feeling much better.

Or at least she did, until Marlene had gently let her know that she knew about her parents. That Harry had told them (though Hermione wasn’t upset with him, not after hearing the full story of the afternoon). But worst of all, that McGonagall knew.

“We can wait to talk to the Headmistress until tomorrow,” Marlene started gently. She was seated in the armchair now, giving Hermione some space while they talked. “But I need to know what happened.”

“I had to keep them safe,” Hermione said softly.

“I know you did, love. I know why you did what you did,” Marlene said. “But I also need you to tell me what, exactly, you did as well.”

Hermione bit her lip, forcing herself to breathe before launching into the story. She told Marlene of the panic she felt when the Dark Mark was sent over the crowd at the Quidditch World Cup, and how her blood ran cold when Harry recounted Voldemort’s return.

“So, I spent a week with my parents, researching everything I could on memory spells,” Hermione explained, hands twisting in the hem of her shirt now as she continued. “And I made a decision. I had to keep them safe.”

“Wait, you did this before your 5th year?” Marlene asked, careful to keep her voice even.

“I had to,” Hermione whined, tears filling her eyes. “If he was back, they would be in danger. I saw how his followers treated those Muggles at the World Cup. How could I risk them doing that to my mum?”

“Just making sure I understand,” Marlene said. “I get why you did it, Hermione, I promise I do. I just want to be sure I understand the details.”

Hermione’s stomach twisted in knots. She didn’t deserve Marlene’s gentleness or patience right now. She couldn’t even raise her eyes to meet the woman’s gaze as she continued. 

“I modified their memories. I changed their names to Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and had them decide to move to Australia. I thought it would be far enough to be safe, and Dad’s always wanted to visit, so in a way I thought I was doing him a favor. I set everything up for them to move and erased myself from their memory, so they could never be questioned about me.”

“Hermione,” Marlene sighed, and Hermione feared the look the woman had. Surely she was angry at her. Who wouldn’t be?

“I had to keep them safe,” Hermione mumbled. “And Muggleborns usually part ways with their family in the upper years. I feel bad for lying to Mrs. Weasley, but I couldn’t risk…anyone knowing about them would put them back in danger.”

“So you never told anyone,” Marlene said. 

“Not until we offered to join Harry on the Horcrux search, and he didn’t think we’d weighed the danger. So I told him what I’d done. He assumed I meant I had just done it, and I didn’t correct him.”

“Hermione, you do realize the longer a memory charm is in place, the less likely you can reverse it?”

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat. She wanted to throw up.

“I thought that was for memory erasure,” she whimpered.

“It’s all memory magic, love,” Marlene said gently, and the tenderness in her voice finally forced Hermione’s tears to fall.

“I was trying to help them,” Hermione sobbed, and before she could realize what was happening Marlene was seated next to her, pulling her into an embrace as she sobbed. 

“I know you did, darling,” Marlene soothed. 

“I miss my mum,” Hermione admitted, and it broke the dam. All of the hurt she’d been feeling for years, the rejection that she felt when she tried to retrieve her parents, all of it came pouring out of her. Marlene held her as she cried, sobs wracking her entire body endlessly, until she thought she couldn’t possibly cry another tear. Marlene held her steady through it all, even as she finally calmed down. 

“I miss my mum,” Hermione whispered, voice raw from sobbing, “but also, I…I don’t want…”

“What is it, darling?” Marlene asked, gently wiping the tears from Hermione’s cheeks with her thumb. 

“I don’t want to leave,” she whimpered, burying her face now in Marlene’s shoulder. 

“I don’t want you to, either,” Marlene murmured, pressing a kiss into the bushy curls. “We’re going to try to get this all sorted so you don’t have to, if that’s what you want.”

“What are they going to do to me?” Hermione asked. She hid her face, holding on to her headspace as much as she could, even as the fear she felt made her mind start to go fuzzy once more. 

“Well,” Marlene said, “you did magic on Muggles that’s permanently altered them, Hermione. Usually, that’s an offense that could mean a sentence to Azkaban.”

“No!”

“But,” Marlene continued, “Littles don’t go to Azkaban. They find other sentences for them depending on the crime. But also, Hermione, your actions may be viewed differently considering we were at war…so we don’t need to assume the worst, not yet.”

“Is there any way…will they let me…can I stay with you?” Hermione asked, her voice small.

“I hope so,” Marlene sighed. “Sometimes, a Little can be remanded into the custody of their Caregiver, and put on a sort of probation. But there’s some extenuating circumstances that I don’t meet for you yet.”

“What kind of circumstances?” 

“Well,” Marlene explained, “for one, we’d have to prove we have a bond. And there is evidence of that,” she added, gently placing a hand on Hermione’s arm. Hermione shivered at the touch, thankful the pain from that cut couldn’t reach her anymore.

“What else, then?” Hermione asked. Marlene sighed again, pulling Hermione up gently by the shoulders, just enough that she was fully facing her.

“Well,” Marlene said, “I wasn’t going to have this conversation with you until you finished school, but. I assume, since you did some reading on your headspace, that you’ve heard of Little Adoption?”

Hermione’s stomach twisted as she suddenly became very interested the hem of her shirt. She nodded, answering enough for Marlene to continue.

“You’d still be your own person, have your own rights and life, while in your adult headspace,” Marlene said, “but it would essentially make me your legal guardian whenever you’re dropped.”

“I thought they did that already with the fostering,” Hermione mumbled.

“They did, to an extent,” Marlene nodded. “But the Adoption makes it permanent. Your last name would become Granger-McKinnon, legally, and it would go to the extent that if I have no biological children, you’d be named my heir.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, biting her lip as she processed it. She’d take Marlene’s name? What about her parents? But then, if it only pertained to her being Little…her parents didn’t even know about that. Would they want to deal with her? Could they, being Muggles? That’s assuming they even get their memories back—

“Darling, you’re spiraling,” Marlene said gently, pulling Hermione into an embrace again. “Talk to me.”

Hermione buried her face in Marlene’s shoulder, the fuzziness returning as she mumbled, “My parents.”

“They would still be your parents,” Marlene said softly, but Hermione shook her head. Not if she broke them. Not if they never get their memory back, and even if they did, would they want her? After what she did? After being classified as Little?

“Oh, little love,” Marlene murmured, rocking Hermione gently as the sobs came once more. “It’ll be alright, darling, we’ll get it sorted. We can talk more about it tomorrow.”

“Want my mum,” Hermione sobbed, clinging onto Marlene, “but…but…”

“I’m sure the Ministry will send someone to try to put them right,” Marlene began, but Hermione shook her head frantically. 

“You,” she choked, before the sobs wracked her body. Would Marlene want her, knowing what she’s done?

“You’ve got me, darling,” Marlene reassured her, raking a hand through her hair. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Hermione buried her face again and sobbed, unable to put her thoughts into words as they became too fuzzy and muddled. She gripped onto Marlene’s shirt with both fists as she cried.

“I’ve got you,” Marlene soothed as she rocked her. Hermione listened as Marlene whispered reassurances in her ear, her voice calm and even until the girl had finally cried herself out once more. 

“Darling, how big are you feeling?” Marlene asked, once the violent sobs had finally dulled down to soft sniffles.

“I don’t know,” Hermione answered honestly. She felt the fuzziness threatening, and for once she wanted to give in to it, to let herself be taken care of, but something was holding her back from dropping, forcing her to remain close to her adult mindset.

“That’s alright, love,” Marlene said. “Why don’t we get ready for bed anyway, and we can cuddle even if you’re feeling bigger than you want to?”

Of course Marlene could tell she was between spaces. How the woman knew she wanted to drop this time, Hermione had no idea, but she was grateful she was understood. She nodded, allowing Marlene help her stand and lead her by the hand to the bedroom. 

Hermione managed to dress herself for bed, but was all too eager for Marlene to pull her into her arms and hold her close. Anxiety still chewed at her stomach, but Marlene soon began humming a soft lullaby that finally, blissfully, lulled Hermione to sleep.

Chapter Text

Hermione woke early the next morning, feeling a dull ache in her head, but thankfully in her adult headspace. She managed to untangle herself from Marlene’s embrace and get dressed, slipping out of the room without waking her Caregiver. Before leaving their quarters, she slipped her pendant off, laying it carefully on a side table next to the sofa.

It was early enough that the castle was quiet, but not so early that anyone would bat an eye at Hermione moving through the castle, and she decided to take advantage of it. She headed up to the 7th floor, walking past a familiar space a few times before a door appeared.

The Room of Requirement still smelled of smoke from the Fiendfyre, but thankfully Ministry officials had managed to extinguish it and the castle healed itself enough for the room to be used. It was perfect for Hermione, who needed a space to think. The room had furnished itself with a comfy sofa, covered in a soft blanket, as well as a desk with some parchment and a quill.

Hermione dropped herself on the sofa first, thinking through her conversation with Marlene. Her Caregiver sounded ready to help her through this and protect her, but as Hermione thought about it…was she really? After all, Marlene had mentioned Little Adoption, explained how it worked, but Hermione knew from her research before that the Little has to agree to be adopted while in their regular headspace, and Marlene hadn’t actually asked her.

Then again, why should she? Hermione was already a daughter once, after all, and look how that had turned out. She thought she was helping her parents, and she may have permanently damaged them instead. And now Marlene knows about it.

Marlene insisted she was there for Hermione, she would stay right with her, no matter how Little she felt or how this went. But some part of Hermione couldn’t trust that. Why would she keep her, when she’s been nothing but problems from the start? Her headspace can’t settle, now something is affecting her core, and she’s got a whole Ministry trial—

Hermione wasn’t sure when she’d started crying, but the tears falling on her lap were falling too fast to miss them. Why would Marlene want to keep her, knowing the full story now? Let alone her parents, assuming anyone could ever put them right. She broke them, broke their minds, with damage that could be permanent. 

Hermione’s younger headspace pushed at her mind, telling her to run away, to hide, to find a place where she would be safe until this all blew over. Her older headspace roared back, scolding her for running, reminding her she’s a Gryffindor and supposed to be brave.

Then again, she thought, maybe the brave thing is to strike out on her own. Marlene shouldn’t have to deal with her and this situation she’s in. Her friends shouldn’t feel obliged to stick by her side through this. Her parents…well, hasn’t she done enough harm?

The thoughts spiraling in her mind felt like someone stuck a hot poker in her brain. Hermione shivered from the pain, wrapping the blanket on the sofa around herself before laying down, throwing an arm over her eyes as she groaned. The thoughts continued racing, each getting worse than the last, until she finally succumbed to pure exhaustion. 

Marlene was surprised to wake alone. She thought for sure, after their conversation the previous evening, that Hermione would likely wake in headspace, or at the very least sleep in. Yet when she awoke, she looked around and noted the girl was gone. She took a quick lap around, confirming that the girl had already slipped out for the morning.

A pit dropped in Marlene’s stomach, but she scolded herself for worrying. Hermione was still feeling a bit big last night, and she was a 7th year student. She likely decided to run by the library before meeting her friends for breakfast, especially because she was dropped all weekend. No doubt she woke up worried about a class or assignment, Marlene decided.

She got dressed herself and ventured out to head to the Great Hall, but as she opened the door, she nearly ran into Ginny, who was posed in front of the door with her hand raised, as if to knock. Neville and Harry stood behind her, as if waiting.

“Oh, sorry Professor,” Ginny said sheepishly. “I was coming to see if Hermione was feeling up to breakfast together. I know she wasn’t feeling well most of the weekend.”

“You mean she’s not already with you lot?” Marlene asked, that pit growing in her stomach now. “She’s not in here. I thought she’d gone to the library and then went to meet you.”

“No, I haven’t seen her,” Ginny said, turning to the boys, who both shook their heads.

“She could still be in the library,” Neville said. “I can go check, if you like.”

“Please,” Marlene said, forcing herself to stay calm. After all, it’s not like Hermione could leave the castle, could she?

“I’ll check the Great Hall,” Ginny said, “maybe she thought she’d just meet us there?”

“I’ll go get Sirius,” Harry said, eyeing the look on Marlene’s face.

Marlene nodded her thanks and watched the teens take off in their different directions, before stepping back into her quarters. She looked around again, searching for any signs she missed. Hermione’s bag was gone, supporting the idea that she’d gone to the library. Marlene nearly calmed herself with the knowledge that Neville would likely stumble upon her any moment now, when she spotted it.

A silver pendant, carved with the Gryffindor lion, laying on the side table by the sofa.

Marlene tasted bile. She picked up the pendant, free hand covering her mouth as she forced herself to swallow down the pit rising from her stomach. She’d just started to get it under control when Sirius burst in, Harry on his heels.

“Harry’s just filled me in— Marls?” Sirius said, taking in her appearance. Marlene couldn’t speak, just holding up the pendant for him to see.

“Well, that’s not good,” Sirius said, “but no worries, we’ll find her, and I have just the ticket.” He pulled out an old bit of parchment, spreading it out on her table before pulling out his wand.

“Want to know how James always found Lily?” Sirius winked, setting his wand on the parchment. “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

Marlene watched as the parchment came to life, filling itself with an intricate map of Hogwarts. She stepped closer and watched curiously as footsteps made their way around the castle, little dots labeled with names, including the three inside her quarters. 

“All we have to do is find her on here,” Sirius said, “and we’ll know where to look.”

“I can help,” Harry offered, coming to join the adults around the table. The trio searched the map, muttering to themselves and running fingers over the different sections, doing their best to locate a little dot labeled “Hermione Granger.”

“I don’t see her,” Marlene said, voice cracking despite her efforts to stay calm. 

“I don’t either,” Sirius admitted, “but I’m sure it’s okay.”

“Does anyone ever not show on this map?” Marlene asked. 

“James, Remus, Peter, and I, when we were schoolboys,” Sirius muttered to himself. “We never needed to track each other, after all. Otherwise, it was usually a sign someone had, um…”

“What is it?”

“If someone left the castle,” Harry answered, and he pointed to a few areas of the map that showed secret exits.

“Does Hermione know about any of those locations?” Sirius asked, turning to look at Harry.

“She does,” Harry squirmed. “I may have used the passage to Honeydukes a few times before you signed my Hogsmeade permission form.”

“Hogsmeade?” Marlene said, her voice reaching a higher pitch than she thought possible. 

“Calm down, Marls, I’m sure she’s fine,” Sirius said again. 

“I can go check the passage,” Harry offered, but Sirius shook his head.

“No, pup, you have classes. I’m taking you by the Great Hall to meet up with Ginny or Neville, and then I’ll go check the passage myself,” Sirius said firmly. “And Marlene, you go to McGonagall, let her know we have a situation and see if she has any ideas.”

Marlene nodded, blinking away tears as she clutched her girl’s pendant and made her way quickly to the headmistress’ office. She burst in, forgetting to even knock in the moment, catching McGonagall off guard.

“Professor McKinnon,” McGonagall greeted, narrowing her eyes for a moment before she saw the blonde’s face. “What’s happened?”

“It’s Hermione,” Marlene said, taking deep breaths to prevent tears from escaping. “She’s disappeared this morning. I thought maybe she’d gone ahead to meet her friends, but they haven’t seen her, and I found this.”

McGonagall covered her mouth with her hand at the sight of the pendant, before shaking her head firmly.

“Krafty,” McGonagall called, and a second later the elf entered. 

“Yes, Headmistress?”

“We cannot seem to find Miss Granger,” McGonagall explained. “Have you seen her?”

“No, Headmistress, but Krafty will keep an eye out!”

“Please do, and tell the other elves on Little duty to do the same, please.”

The elf bowed deeply before disappearing again, and McGonagall turned to Marlene.

“We will find her, I promise you,” she said, laying a hand on Marlene’s shoulder. “The elves will be on high alert.”

“Minerva, I’ll spread the word amongst the portraits as well,” came a voice from above them, startling Marlene. She looked up to see the portrait of Dumbledore staring down at them, eyes twinkling even if it was only paint.

“Thank you, Albus,” McGonagall said, taking Marlene’s arm and escorting her out of the office.

“Go back to your quarters, in case she’s dropped and gets brought there,” McGonagall said. “I’ll put all other teachers on alert. Hopefully she’s off studying somewhere and we’ve just all missed her.”

Marlene nodded, unable to say anything as she shuffled back to her quarters. She paced around, unable to bring herself to sit and wait, pondering if she should go search anywhere herself. By now the first classes of the day were in session, and still no Hermione. Krafty had popped in, just to say none of the elves had seen her, but she promised to keep looking.

Marlene wiped tears from her eyes after an hour of waiting, deciding she was going to go look for herself, when Harry burst into the room.

“Marlene,” he said, clearly out of breath. It was obvious he had run from his class to her quarters. “I think I know where she is.”

“Where?” Marlene asked. 

“Room of Requirement. I don’t think Siri’s map shows it, and she knows about it from Dumbledore’s Army, so I think she could be in there!”

“I’ve never heard of this room,” Marlene admitted, “but lead the way, Harry.”

Harry moved quickly, all the way up to the 7th floor, before he gestured for Marlene to stop at a hallway entrance. He then walked past a wall a few times, and to her astonishment a door appeared.

“She’s probably in here,” Harry said, opening the door and holding it for Marlene to enter.

Marlene walked inside, looking around the room that seemingly didn’t exist a moment ago. There was a desk to one side, and in the center was a sofa, and something covered by a blanket—

Hermione.

Marlene rushed over, scooping the girl up. She could tell by the glaze in her eyes that Hermione had dropped, and judging by the sleepy blinks she’d just woken up. She stared at Marlene hard, her bottom lip wobbling as she did so.

“Darling,” Marlene soothed, “you scared me. I’m so glad I found you.”

Hermione let out a small cry, and Marlene pulled her in close, rocking her gently.

“Come along, little one, let’s go back to our room, hm? We can put on something more comfortable for you,” Marlene cooed, carrying the girl out with her. To her surprise, Hermione buried her face down and allowed herself to be carried openly.

“I’m glad we found her,” Harry said, and Marlene nodded her agreement. 

“Very clever idea, Harry,” Marlene said. “Go along to class now, you lot can come check on her at lunch if you like.”

Harry nodded, walking off to his class, and Marlene watched him leave for a moment before calling Krafty.

“Yes, Professor- oh, you found her!” 

“Yes, Krafty. Can you please let everyone know she’s been located and we’ll be in our quarters for the day?”

“Yes!” Krafty squeaked, before disappearing again. Marlene nodded to herself before taking Hermione back to their room. By the time she’d made it in and gotten her dressed in softer clothes, Hermione had started to come back up.

“‘M sorry,” she slurred, rubbing her eyes with her fist. “Wanted to think, by myself.”

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” Marlene scolded, though softly. “If you needed time alone that’s fine, but you cannot disappear like that. We had the whole castle looking for you.”

“Sorry,” Hermione repeated, her lower lip sticking out. 

“It’s alright, darling, I’m just glad you’re safe,” Marlene said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

Hermione fidgeted with her shirt, but Marlene waited patiently. Finally, the girl looked up at her, eyes wide and full of tears.

“Little adoption,” she said, lip wobbling as she did so.

“What about it, darling?” Marlene asked. She’d learned in their short time together that the obvious answer wasn’t always the correct one when it came to Hermione.

The girl sniffed, then whined, “You didn’t ask me.”

“Oh, love,” Marlene said, pulling the girl into her arms, “is that what has you so upset? I didn’t ask because I wanted you to have some time to think about it and process everything.”

Hermione sniffled as tears rolled down her cheeks, before she asked a question that shattered Marlene’s heart into a thousand pieces.

“You really want me?”

Marlene responded by pulling the girl into a tight embrace, rocking her in her lap as she felt the girl begin to sob into her shirt. She sniffed away her own tears before she spoke.

“Of course I want you, little love,” Marlene said, voice trembling. “I am so sorry if I did anything to make you think otherwise. I know we haven’t been together long, but I would love nothing more than to adopt you, if that’s what you want.”

“But…my parents…broke them,” Hermione said, muffled by her hiding her face in Marlene’s shirt.

“You did something drastic to try to save them,” Marlene said firmly. “And it may have caused harm, but you were doing what you thought was right, and knowing that doesn’t make me love you any less.”

Hermione clung onto Marlene at that, wailing into her shirt. Marlene could tell by the tone of her cries that the girl had fully let go and dropped, likely into a very young headspace. She waved a hand to summon the girl’s dummy, offering it to Hermione once her cries started to slow. Hermione took it quickly before burying her face once more, wrapping the collar of Marlene’s shirt in one of her fists.

“Miss my mummy,” Hermione mumbled.

“I know you do, darling. We’ll try to find her.”

“But…but want you to be Mummy, too.”

Marlene couldn’t stop the tears that filled her eyes at that admission, and she pressed a kiss on Hermione’s head. 

“I’d love nothing more than to be your mummy.”

Chapter Text

The next couple of weeks were hard. Facing McGonagall was one of the hardest things Hermione had to do, while the headmistress swung wildly between scolding her and consoling her, clearly unsure how she herself felt about the actions.

Then there was Kingsley coming in and having a meeting with her. Thankfully, that meeting had gone better. 

“Due to your war efforts, and your Classification,” he explained, “I convinced the Wizengamot to remand your custody to Hogwarts while we investigate. We’ve sent wizards to Australia to retrieve your parents, and they will be taken to St. Mungo’s to see what can be done about their memories.”

“Thank you,” Hermione had said quietly, too ashamed to say much more. That night had been full of horrible nightmares, an accident, and three tantrums that Marlene patiently held her through.

Hermione sat in her Defense Against the Dark Arts class now, taking notes as Marlene taught about high level protective spells. She’d been quiet over the past few weeks, forcing herself through her classes and schoolwork by day, dropping hard with Marlene at night, allowing herself to slip to infant level. It was easier to embrace the fuzziness, and besides, in her infant headspace she can’t say “Mummy”.

Marlene had told Hermione she could call her that. Hermione longed to call her that. But she felt such guilt, knowing her real mum was somewhere in either Australia or St. Mungo’s with no clue she ever had a daughter, and that was Hermione’s fault. So Hermione embraced being a baby, where the guilt couldn’t reach her.

“Mione,” Ginny called, pulling her from her thoughts. “Class is dismissed, let’s go.”

Hermione startled, quickly gathering her things. She ignored how Marlene watched her carefully, clearly on the verge of coming to check on her, but hesitating. Hermione had asked her to keep a distance during the school day; she’d learned that even a shoulder pat from Marlene was enough to send her into a drop if she wasn’t careful. 

Ginny was waiting at the door for Hermione, having become her unofficial escort. Harry had filled her and Neville in on what Hermione had done, and while they had come and supported her and let her know they were there for her, it just filled her with more shame. Still, she was too tired to argue with Ginny, so she let her keep up the bodyguard act, following her dutifully to the Great Hall for lunch where she would poke at her food until Ginny convinced her to eat a few bites.

The day continued, Hermione going through the motions the same way she had since her secret had been discovered. Even Zacharias’ snide remarks didn’t get a reaction out of her today, though she noticed that even other students were tired of his attempts to humiliate Littles. Classes ended and Hermione followed Ginny and Harry out to the Quidditch pitch for their practice, sitting in the stands with Neville to study while she waited. 

When it came time for dinner, there was a hush as Hermione followed Ginny into the Great Hall, and a pit in her stomach formed. People has just stopped staring at her after her Classification, what could possibly cause a ruckus now?

She didn’t have the chance to find out, as Marlene and Sirius made their way from the Head table down to where they were quickly, grabbing the four teens and ushering them out.

“My quarters,” Marlene said quietly, wrapping an arm around Hermione protectively as she walked. “We’ll explain there.”

“But what about dinner?” Harry whined. He always was on the edge of his own headspace after Quidditch practice, and always hungry.

“We’re having it in Marlene’s quarters,” Sirius soothed. “McGonagall’s suggestion. Neville and Ginny too.”

“Why?” Hermione asked, voice breaking. Marlene just shook her head until they made it to her quarters, all inside with the door shut tight. A table was already set with dinner for the two professor and the teens. 

“Hermione,” Marlene said, pulling the girl to sit and kneeling in front of her, “I don’t know how to tell you this, so we’re just going to do this bluntly.”

Hermione furrowed her brow, before Marlene handed her the evening edition of the Daily Prophet. Ginny, Harry, and Neville all surrounded her, peering over her shoulder at the headline.

“Oblivi-Gate: Ministry Scrambles as Golden Girl is Revealed to Have Hexed Parents,” Ginny read, voice shaking in anger as she got to the end of the headline. “Of course, Rita Skeeter, that bitch.”

“Who told her?” Harry said, jumping up in anger. “Why do they still let her write?”

“Hermione, are you alright?” Neville asked softly, but Hermione didn’t answer.

Inside her mind, a war raged. Anger, that Rita Skeeter was once again trying to ruin her life. Humiliation, now that the whole school knew. Shame, that she’d ever done this in the first place. Guilt, for wanting to climb into the arms of the woman who has become her new mum, when she did this to her first one. Hermione didn’t know if she wanted to run, or scream, or cry. So instead, she did nothing.

“Darling?” Marlene called, but Hermione could barely hear her. It’s as if her mind felt entirely too much at once, and everything shut off. The fuzzy feeling hit harder than it ever has, and she was all too happy to give in.

“Right,” Marlene said, lifting Hermione into her arms as she saw her eyes glaze over, “you lot, have dinner. I’m going to take a moment with Hermione.”

“Keep an eye on Harry,” Sirius added, nodding at Ginny and Neville, before following Marlene into her bedroom.

Hermione dropped, and dropped hard. She went fully limp in Marlene’s arms, just looking around as the woman changed her into a nappy and soft pajamas, not even protesting Sirius’ presence.

“This is bad,” Marlene mumbled to Sirius. “She’s never gone fully unresponsive like this. Tantrums, sure, and she’s had panic drops, but never like this.”

“Panic drops and dissociation go together,” Sirius replied softly. “Poor little cub, she’s been through so much.”

“I’m going to kill that Skeeter woman,” Marlene seethed, pulling Hermione close to her chest. 

“I’ll help, but I think there’s more pressing matters this evening,” Sirius murmured.

Hermione felt Marlene nod, and a moment later her dummy was popped into her mouth. She suckled on it and let herself melt in Marlene’s arms, the one place she still felt safe.

“Let’s check on the other kids,” Sirius said, once the adults realized Hermione wasn’t going to melt down, and he held the door while Marlene carried her through, settling the two of them in an armchair. Hermione wasn’t sure who summoned it or prepared it, but a moment later a bottle was in her mouth, and she suckled it contentedly. 

“Papa, is Mione okay?” Harry asked, clearly fully dropped. Marlene looked up with a bemused grin.

“It’s new,” Sirius explained. “And close to Padfoot, so. He liked it. And yes, pup, Hermione is alright for now. She’s just feeling very Little.”

“Is there anything we can do to help? Ginny asked, Neville nodding along. 

“Just the same that you’ve been doing,” Marlene said. “Be there for her, help her out.”

“If the Prophet is already reporting on it, students will be talking,” Sirius sighed, standing behind Harry and ruffling his hair before gesturing for the boy to finish his meal. 

“I read the article while you got her changed,” Ginny said. “Rita is making it out like Hermione was trying to erase her Muggle heritage.”

“Of course she was,” Marlene rolled her eyes. Hermione shifted uncomfortably at the news, but Marlene started rocking, and she settled back into her bottle.

“We can try to set people straight,” Neville said. “Start it in Gryffindor, remind people who Hermione really is. I’ll talk to Justin too so he can pass it along to Hufflepuff, he and I are Herbology partners.”

“We’ll do our best to get the word around,” Ginny promised.

“Appreciate it, kids,” Sirius said.

“I’ll hex Skeeter,” Harry offered, but Sirius only frowned at him and shook his head.

“Ginny, Neville, you both may be wanting to get back to the Common Room,” Marlene said softly. “Harry can break curfew if he’s with Sirius, but you two don’t need to get a detention on top of everything else.”

Neville nodded, gathering his things, while Ginny shyly walked over to Hermione, leaning down to gently hug the girl.

“We’ll get this fixed, Mione,” Ginny promised.

Hermione gurgled in response, which Ginny seemed to accept, as she stood and joined Neville in leaving.

Sirius sat and ate with Harry, trying to keep the boy’s voice down while he complained about everything Rita Skeeter has done to them all. Once they finished, Sirius joined Marlene on the sofa, while Harry sprawled out on the rug in front of them, playing with a toy Snitch he had in his pockets.

“Hand me the baby,” Sirius offered, holding his arms open, “so you can have dinner.”

Marlene hesitated, but gently handed Hermione over into his lap. Hermione looked up, staring at Sirius for a moment, before deciding he was comfortable enough and snuggling down once more. He grabbed a blanket to tuck around her as she yawned.

Marlene ate quickly, and by the time she finished Hermione was nearly asleep, curled up against Sirius chest.

“I can hold her for a bit longer,” Sirius said.

“You just like holding the baby,” Marlene chuckled.

“Can I hold her?” Harry asked, eyes wide at the possibility.

“Maybe another time, pup,” Sirius said. “She’s sleeping now, we don’t want to disturb her.”

Before Harry could argue, there was a soft knock at the door. Marlene stood to answer it, allowing McGonagall to enter.

“Sorry to interrupt,” McGonagall said, dropping her voice further at the sight of a sleeping Hermione, “but I’ve just gotten word. Hermione’s presence has been requested this weekend.”

“At the Ministry?” Marlene asked.

“No,” McGonagall said, “at St. Mungo’s. They’ve admitted her parents.”

Chapter Text

The rest of the week was terrible. Everywhere Hermione went, whispers followed her, along with stares. The only saving grace is no one, not even Zacharias Smith, dared say anything to her. After all, who wants to provoke a girl who would destroy her own parents?

Hermione went through the motions, forcing herself through classes during the day. Marlene had given her permission to skip them, and even McGonagall was ready to allow it, but Hermione couldn’t do that. Not in her NEWT year. She couldn’t let Rita Skeeter take her education, too. 

So instead, the elves brought her and Marlene breakfast every morning, allowing Hermione time to come out of headspace and prepare for the day. It worked out, since owls brought her hate mail with the post every day, giving her horrible flashbacks to the envelopes filled with bubotuber pus, leaving her terrified to open any letters she didn’t recognize. 

Lunch was spent in the Great Hall, with Harry and Ginny fiercely defending Hermione from anyone who dared whisper too loud, while Neville always sweetly sat next to her, quietly discussing their schoolwork to keep her distracted. Hermione appreciated their efforts, but that didn’t stop her from picking at her food. As soon as the final class of the day finished, she would be escorted to Marlene’s quarters by either Neville or Ginny, depending on the Quidditch schedule, where she would teem on the edge of headspace until Marlene arrived and she felt safe to drop fully. 

Saturday morning finally arrived, and Hermione woke between headspaces, stretching out. Marlene scooped her up out of bed, giving her a few moments to be babied before she had to come up for their trip to St. Mungo’s. 

“Happy birthday, darling girl,” Marlene murmured, pressing a kiss to Hermione’s head as she rocked the girl. Hermione sniffled in response. Some birthday. The entire school hated her, her parents were broken, and she was wearing a wet nappy. 

“It’s alright darling,” Marlene said, lifting the girl to help her get the nappy off and get dressed. “We’ll do a small celebration with your friends tonight, if you like, and once we get this sorted we can do something bigger, hm?”

Hermione nodded, allowing herself to be soothed for a moment before trying to come up. She remembered Marlene telling her they wanted her to be in an adult headspace for this visit, so she could explain exactly what spells she cast on her parents. 

“Come on now, love, let’s have a bit of toast or something and then we’ll get ready to go, hm?” Marlene said, keeping her tone low and gentle, even as Hermione rose to her physical age. 

Hermione appreciated it, allowing Marlene to talk her into a few bites of toast and some juice before they took the Floo, arrived at St. Mungo’s in a flash. A wizard was waiting for her, escorting them both through a labyrinth of hallways before escorting them into what appeared to be a small conference room. They sat for just a moment before a witch entered.

“Good morning,” she said, “I’m Healer Hopkins, and I’ve been the one working on the Granger case.”

“How are they?” Hermione asked nervously. Marlene reached and took her hand, squeezing it gently. 

“Physically, right as rain,” Hopkins said, pulling out a scroll that floated in front of her to check notes, “but the memory spell was a doozy. We’ve managed to bring them to their former selves in short bursts, and in time I’m confident we can bring them to a full recovery, especially with your help.”

Hermione choked back a sob, taking a deep breath to center herself. Gripping onto Marlene’s hand for dear life, she took the time to explain her spellcasting process, including which spells she used, what order, and everything else she could remember from that horrible day when she made her decision. 

“Interesting,” Hopkins said, glancing at the quill taking notes for her. Hermione idly hoped it was more reliable than Skeeter’s, for her parents’ sake. 

“Now, Miss Granger,” Hopkins continued, “I understand that when your parents believe they are the Wilkins’, they think you’re some sort of stalker?”

“Yes,” Hermione mumbled.

“I’m going to go check on them, but if they are currently lucid, would you be interested in visiting?” 

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. She knew it was likely she would be able to visit with them today, but being faced with the possibility now, the reality of it overwhelmed her.

“Breathe,” Marlene reminded her, reaching to rub her back with soothing circles. “It’s up to you, love, but you wanted to last night, remember?”

Hermione did, but now bile crept up her throat at the thought.

“Do they know what I did?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“They do,” Hopkins confirmed, “but they also know what you did to defeat Voldemort, and that it was for their safety. They’ve been upset, but I don’t think they’ll be very cross when they see you.”

Hermione chewed her lip as she thought it over, before nodding slowly. Hopkins smiled and stood, grabbing the floating scroll and quill and tucking them into her robe pockets easily. 

“Let me go see if they’re ready for visitors, then,” Hopkins said, dismissing herself quietly. As soon as the door shut behind her, Hermione turned and buried her face in Marlene’s shoulder.

“It’s alright, love,” Marlene said. “You’re their little girl, I’m sure they’ll forgive you.”

“Yours too,” Hermione mumbled, muffled. 

“Am I what’s worrying you, love?” Marlene asked. “I can wait outside, if you’re not ready to explain it all. Or we can hold off fully explaining who I am,” she added, as Hermione tensed at the idea of going without her.

Before she could answer, Hopkins stuck her head in the door, gesturing for them to follow. Hermione followed close behind, hand squeezing Marlene’s the entire walk, until they were led through a door.

“Hermione!”

Her mum rose from her chair, running and taking her in her arms, embracing her tightly. Her father soon came up behind, wrapping an arm around them both and pressing a kiss to Hermione’s head. It was all too much, and she burst into tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, burying her face in her mum’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean for it to be like this, I just wanted to keep you safe.”

“Oh, I was very cross when they first told us,” her mum said, “but they explained what’s happened the past few years with you.”

“We’re proud of what you’ve managed,” her dad said, “but also, if you ever do magic like that on us again, you’re grounded, I’ve no mind how old you are.”

Hermione sobbed, just relishing in her parents holding her once again. Once she was able to calm down, she sat on the edge of a bed with her mother, her father pulling up a chair. At Marlene’s gentle nod from across the room, she explained her full story of what she’d done. 

“Sweetie, I wish you’d talked to us about what scared you,” her mum said as she finished, pulling Hermione into an embrace once more. 

“If you knew anything, you’d be in danger,” Hermione explained. “I couldn’t take that risk.”

“We’re just glad to see you,” her father said. 

“I want to catch up with you more,” her mum said, “but I fear I’m starting to get a dreadful headache again.”

Hermione bit her lip, clinging to her mother for another moment. She knew this lucid moment must be coming to an end, and any moment now her mother would become Monica Wilkins again, and yet she couldn’t bear to tear herself away. Luckily, Marlene understood. She always did. 

“We need to go anyway, Hermione,” Marlene said, standing and gesturing for her to join her at the door. “Must get back to the school, after all.”

Hermione sighed, hugging her parents once more and saying her goodbyes before following Marlene out in the hallway. She numbly followed all the way back to the fireplaces, until they took the Floo back to Hogwarts. As soon as they landed, Marlene scooped Hermione up, holding her close.

“You did so good, my darling girl,” Marlene cooed, and Hermione melted at the praise, finally letting go to the fuzzy feeling and dropping down. 

“Birthday tomorrow?” Hermione asked in a small voice. “Too tired now.”

“Of course, darling,” Marlene said. She carried Hermione to get dressed before curling up in the bed with her, holding her close and singing soft songs until she fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Marlene woke early, quietly getting dressed while she watched her little one sleep. Hermione had stayed dropped to infant level after her nap the previous day, which was just as well. Seeing her parents was a lot, and being Little gave her a chance to process it. Marlene had quietly sent word to her friends and Sirius that her birthday lunch would be moved to today, to give her a day to process everything. 

Now it was Sunday, when they would celebrate her little girl. Her girl who was currently sprawled all the way across the bed, dummy in her mouth and bunny in her hand, softly snoring. 

Marlene busied herself preparing for the afternoon. It was going to be a quiet affair, with Sirius, Harry, Ginny, and Neville joining them in their quarters for lunch. Marlene had offered other options, but Hermione refused, stating she wanted a day away from the castle full of people that hated her. However, one of the terms of her release to Hogwarts from the Ministry was that Hermione could not leave the grounds, not even to go to Hogsmeade, so their quarters was the only option. 

Marlene debated waking the girl when she finally shifted, stretching as she woke with a small whine. 

“There’s my birthday girl,” Marlene cooed, leaning down to scoop the girl into her arms. “How old are we feeling today, hm?”

Hermione had wavered back and forth on which headspace she wanted to spend her birthday in. After all, unlike Harry, her childhood birthdays had been full of joy and love; there was nothing to make up for now. On the other hand, it was tradition for a new Little to receive birthday gifts that matched their headspace, so Hermione had felt obligated to be dropped. Eventually, Marlene convinced her to take a breath and wait to decide, and see how she felt. 

Judging by how Hermione buried her face in the crook of Marlene’s neck in response, sucking hard on her dummy, Marlene figured she’d be Little for the day after all. 

“It’s alright if you’re feeling Little, darling,” she soothed, summoning out an outfit of soft clothes for the girl to wear. “How little are we, hm?”

“No nappy,” Hermione mumbled, catching the question immediately. “But…maybe a little.”

“Training pants it is,” Marlene decided, and she quickly helped the girl get dressed before taming her bushy hair into a couple of braids. By the time she finished, the girl had finished rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, and looked on with wide excitement. 

“Breakie?” Hermione asked, words slurred by the dummy. 

“Of course, love,” Marlene said, leading the girl into the next room. They ate breakfast quietly, Hermione giggling and getting jam all over her face. Marlene laughed as she helped clean her up, just happy she was in a good mood after her previous day. 

Hermione was on her stomach, flipping through a pop up book and kicking her feet behind her when Neville arrived.

“‘Lo, Hermione,” he greeted, immediately sitting down to join the girl. “The other two are coming, they got held up talking to the Quidditch team.”

“Neville! Read with me?” Hermione asked, sitting up and grinning. Neville grinned back and agreed, allowing her to shove a book in his hand for him to read to her as Marlene watched on. He’d gotten through two picture books when the door opened and Harry and Ginny arrived.

“Mione!” Harry said, running to practically tackle the girl to the ground. Marlene stood in alarm but settled when she realized Hermione was giggling. 

“Pup, we talked about this, she’s smaller than you,” Sirius scolded lightly, but he winked at Marlene. 

“Happy birthday, Mione,” Ginny said, joining the other teens on the floor. Hermione greeted her by immediately crawling into her lap, reaching for more books.

“One more book, little love,” Marlene called, “but then we need to go to the table to eat lunch, alright?”

“And cake?” Harry asked, eyes wide and grinning.

“It’s not your birthday you cheeky thing,” Sirius reminded him, “but yes, we’ll have cake for Hermione.”

Marlene moved to set the table while Ginny took her turn reading, getting things ready just in time for the elves to pop the meal in. She stood to the side with Sirius, who nudged her gently to point at the two Littles listening to Ginny with rapt attention. Finally, the story finished.

“Alright, darling,” Marlene said, moving to scoop Hermione into her arms before the girl could grab another book, knowing the two young Caregivers wouldn’t be able to tell her no. Sirius helped Harry up as well, and everyone moved to the table to tuck into sandwiches and chips.

“Bottle or sippy?” Marlene asked. Hermione had aged up from the infant space she’d been in, so she wanted to give her a choice, but she wasn’t at all shocked when Hermione piped up with,

“Ba!”

Sirius automatically took out his wand to transfigure Harry’s goblet into a sippy cup, the boy thanking him before drinking greedily.

“Slow down pup, you don’t want a tummyache,” Sirius chuckled.

“Especially not before cake,” Ginny added, laughing as Harry’s eyes widened at the thought of missing out on cake.

The group ate jovially, Ginny and Neville both entertaining the chattering of excited Littles as they ate. Marlene and Sirius made eye contact across the table, both beaming as their charges next to them rattled on and on about the various stories they’ve read, the toys they have, and anything else that came to mind. 

Once they finished eating, Marlene summoned in the cake. It was a simple birthday cake, with pink frosting and a layer of strawberry jam, Hermione’s favorite. They sang to the birthday girl and watched her blow out the candles, and enjoyed the cake.

Marlene watched Hermione in awe as the teens ate cake and talked. For Harry’s birthday, not long ago, Hermione had been shy, slow to warm up to everyone in her headspace, and embarrassed at choosing a bottle. Now today she was happily drinking from her bottle, easily dropped in front of her friends. It was a smaller affair than Harry’s birthday, for sure, but Marlene wondered if seeing her parents the previous day helped her settle just a little bit more.

The group finished cake and moved over to open presents. Hermione sat on the floor in Marlene’s lap, dummy back in her mouth and clapping happily as the others settled.

“Happy birthday, Hermione,” Neville said, passing over his gift. Hermione ripped open the paper to discover a large box of crayons, including every color imaginable.

“They have a stasis charm on them,” Neville explained. “They’ll never break or wear down, so you can color as much as you like and never have to worry.”

“Thank you,” Hermione beamed, immediately going to open the crayons. Marlene caught her and stopped her quickly.

“We have more gifts, little one,” she reminded her, “and then we can color, if you like.”

Hermione pouted as Marlene took the crayons, but quickly got excited again as Harry passed over his present, practically bouncing in excitement.

“Open mine, Mione!”

Needing no other encouragement, Hermione tore open the package to reveal a set of soft pajamas, featuring a moving pattern of swimming otters.

“They also have a stasis charm,” Sirius told her, “so they’ll always be as warm or as cool as you’d like.”

“And they have otters!” Harry added, pointing as if the girl didn’t see them swirling in front of her.

Hermione’s eyes went wide as she watched them, before hugging the pajama shirt to her chest.

“Jammies on!”

“Not yet, little one, though we can wear them tonight,” Marlene said. “What do we tell Harry?”

“Thank you, Harry!”

Marlene moved the pajamas off to the side before Hermione could ask for them again. Ginny, seeing the motion, quickly handed Hermione the next gift.

“This one is from Ron,” she said. “He owled it to me and said to be sure you got it.”

Hermione opened the gift to see a new stuffed animal. Specifically, a Jack Russel terrier, with a Weasley-hair-red collar around its neck. Marlene remembered one of the kids mentioning Ron’s Patronus form and quickly clocked the connection.

“Ron!” Hermione beamed, clearly getting it as well as she hugged the dog close. Ginny passed her another parcel, which Hermione opened with one hand, other clutched tight on her new dog.

“That’s from Mum,” Ginny said, as Hermione pulled out a large knitted blanket. It was a soft pink color, made of the super soft yarn reserved for baby blankets.

“You’ll have to send them our thanks,” Marlene said softly, as Hermione held the blanket against her cheek yawning. 

“I will,” Ginny promised. “Here’s my gift”

Hermione set her other gifts down to reach for Ginny’s, which was larger and much heavier. Marlene had to help her pull it close enough to open it, but Hermione squealed in delight. It was a stack of new pop up books, similar to the ones Ginny had originally read her. 

“I figured books is always a good gift for you, even when you’re feeling small,” Ginny winked. Hermione hadn’t taken her eyes off the books, immediately grabbing the top off the stack and moving to crawl into Ginny’s lap.

“Read?” Hermione asked, handing the book to Ginny. The redhead looked up to Marlene as if asking for permission, and Marlene nodded. She’d already given Hermione her Little gift, a new set of bubble baths and toys, the previous evening, so they were finished opening gifts anyway.

“Me too?” Harry asked, as Ginny opened the first page and a paper drago flew overhead. 

“I’ve got an idea,” Sirius said, and with a wave of his wand pillows were conjured around the kids, allowing them all to relax. 

Ginny leaned back against a stack before letting Hermione lay in her lap, new dog under one arm, new blanket tucked around her. Neville perched next to her, Harry curled in his lap, and the two young Caregivers took turns reading pages, making voices for each of the characters. By the end of the second book, Hermione was sound asleep, with Harry starting to doze on Neville’s shoulder. 

“Come on, pup,” Sirius said quietly, reaching down to lift his boy. 

“Papa?” Harry slurred, half asleep.

“It’s alright,” Sirius said. He shifted so Harry laid on his shoulder, bouncing him gently. “We’ll go have a nap and see our friends after, hm?”

“No need to cart him through the castle,” Marlene said, “I’ll transfigure a cot in Hermione’s room for him.” 

Marlene went to do just that, setting up a cot in the corner and summoning in the pillows Sirius had conjured earlier. Sirius brought Harry in and got him settled, and Ginny followed behind, carrying a sleeping Hermione to her bed. 

“We’ll head out while they nap,” Neville said softly, Ginny nodding in agreement. “But we’ll come back to have dinner with them, if that’s alright. It’s still Hermione’s birthday weekend, after all.”

“Of course,” Marlene agreed. She waved as the young Caregivers saw themselves out. 

“Mummy?” Hermione called, and Marlene’s heart skipped a beat before she scolded herself. The girl was likely dreaming, is all. She moved and knelt by her bed, brushing hair out of her face. Hermione opened her eyes and blinked.

“Mummy, blankie?” Hermione asked, and this time it was undeniable. She’d called Marlene her mummy. Marlene held her breath, trying to remain calm as she summoned Hermione’s new blanket, tucking it around her.

“There you are, love,” Marlene said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Go on, have a little nap and we’ll play later, hm?”

“Nigh’ nigh’ Mummy,” Hermione mumbled, eyes closing as she drifted back off. Marlene shakily stood and exited the room, whispering the wards that would alert her and Sirius should one of them wake.

Sirius stood right outside the door, an amused grin on his face. He threw an arm around Marlene’s shoulder once she closed the door. 

“Come on, let’s get you a cup of tea, Mummy.”

Marlene elbowed him in the ribs, but allowed herself to be led back to the table for them to both have a cup of tea while their little ones slept. 

Chapter Text

Hermione woke early the next morning, finally aged back up. Her birthday the previous day had been fun, with Ginny and Neville rejoining them for dinner and a story before she had to go to bed. She’d stayed dropped the entire evening, affectionately referring to Marlene as her mummy several times.

That was what made her stomach churn as she dressed, slipping out of their quarters before Marlene awoke, careful this time to leave a note. Hermione knew, of course, that Littles often began using parental names once a bond had formed, and she knew she was bonding with Marlene, but it still felt…wrong. Her own mother, her actual mother, was in St. Mungo’s, barely aware of who she was most of the day. How dare she bestow her title onto anyone else, after what she did?

Hermione decided to head to the Great Hall, just in case anyone went searching after her last stunt, and took a seat at the far end of the Gryffindor table. She propped a book up next to her plate, burying her guilt in preparing for classes and working on her Charms essay. She’d just about finished when Ginny, Harry, and Neville arrived.

“Marlene said you’d left early,” Ginny said as she sat down. “Any reason?”

“Spent all weekend in headspace,” Hermione shrugged, biting her lip. “I thought I’d spend some time catching up before class.” She ignored how the other’s glanced at her, clearly not falling for her bluff.

“Well,” Harry said finally, as he started loading his plate with sausages, “I hope you’ve started on the Potions assignment. I might need a spot of help.”

Hermione looked up and saw Harry give her a quick wink. She gave him a small smile of thanks, before going into detail over the assignment that she had, of course, already completed days ago.

The day proceeded like normal, Hermione doing what she did best and burying herself in her schoolwork. She noticed throughout the day how Ginny and Neville watched her closely, but her trio of friends seemed to decide to let it go, allowing her to sit quietly working on schoolwork during lunch while Harry ranted about Quidditch. She also noticed Marlene watching her closely during lunch and her class, but thankfully the Caregiver seemed to also decide to give her space.

After classes, Hermione quietly excused herself to the library, citing wanting to catch up on a couple more assignments. Truthfully, guilt had gnawed at her all day long, and she wasn’t ready to face Marlene yet. Her best bet, she decided, would be to work on assignments until her headspace teemed at the edge, and then she could drop hard and avoid talking about anything. 

This plan would have been perfect, had it not been for Neville Longbottom entering the library.

“Mind if I join you?” Neville asked quietly, setting his bag down at the table Hermione had parked at. It was a quiet spot in the back of the library, away from anyone else, just how Hermione liked it when she was working. Unfortunately, that also meant it as a prime location for her friends to confront her.

“Sure,” she squeaked, before clearing her throat. “Um, did you need help with anything, or?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Neville said softly. His tone was warm and inviting, and Hermione’s already pressing headspace nearly melted in response.

“What about?”

“You’ve been off today,” Neville said. “And I know you’ve had an eventful weekend, seeing your parents for the first time, so I wanted you to know that if you needed to talk about it, I’m here.”

Hermione immediately felt like an arse. Of course Neville would think it’s about seeing her parents, his own were probably housed in the same wing that her parents were in, and he’d understand exactly what she was feeling.

“It’s not about them, really. Or, well, it is, but…oh, I don’t know,” Hermione stammered, growing frustrated as her words wouldn’t come out.

“Hermione, calm down,” Neville soothed, reaching to place a calming hand on her arm. “If I’ve got it wrong, I’m sorry. But I’d like if you could tell me what’s going on, because I know it’s not school and it’s not nothing. We’re mates, right?”

“Of course,” Hermione said immediately. She took a deep breath before continuing. 

“I called Marlene ‘Mummy’ yesterday.”

Neville blinked for a moment, clearly stunned. 

“Yes, you did,” he said slowly. “Ginny and I caught that when we were having dinner. But you do know that’s normal for Littles, right?”

“I do,” Hermione said, biting her lip and fiddling with the hem of her robes. “But is it normal for Littles that sent their parents to St. Mungo’s to then get to call someone else Mummy?”

“Ah, that’s it, then,” Neville nodded. “You did what you thought was right for your parents, remember? Even McGonagall said she understood, didn’t she?”

“I know,” Hermione groaned. She watched as Neville rubbed his chin in thought, taking his time before looking up at her again.

“Hermione,” he said, careful to keep his voice low just in case, “are you wearing a nappy right now?”

“What?” Hermione gasped, blushing furiously. “Of course not!”

“And you’re not using your dummy right now,” Neville continued, acting oblivious to her reaction.

“Of course I’m not,” she hissed, “I’m not in headspace right now!”

“But when you are, you let yourself use them now, don’t you?” Neville prods.

“I’ve gotten used to them,” Hermione admits, confused where this is going, “but only because I know when I’m Little I need them.”

“Have you considered that maybe, Little you needs to acknowledge the person who has been acting as your mummy?”

Hermione went to argue but stopped, letting Neville’s words sink in. Sensing the pause, Neville continued.

“Littles get two sets of parents, you know. Acknowledging the role Marlene has in your life now doesn’t erase your parents. And once they’re healed, and you’ve had the chance to explain wizarding classification to them, I have a feeling your parents would be relieved to know you’re still being cared for.”

Hermione sat and thought about it. Neville had made a solid point, and while she still couldn’t stop the guilt churning, she had felt secure last night when she wished her new “Mummy” goodnight. 

“Whatever Little ends up bonding with you is going to be very lucky, Neville,” she said finally, unable to argue with his point at all. Neville looked up and smiled at her. 

“Thank you,” he said, standing. “Now, let’s get you packed up, hm? Don’t think I haven’t noticed the signs. Let me take you to Marlene now, okay?”

Hermione sighed, cursing internally at how many Caregivers surrounded her, but she nodded. Neville helped her fold up her parchment and pack away her books before placing a hand on her shoulder, gently leading her from the library to her quarters. Marlene was seated inside, sipping a cup of tea as if she was waiting.

“There you are,” she said. Seeing the look on Hermione’s face, the way the girl’s hands fidgeted in front of her, she stood, pulling her into her arms.

“Thanks for walking her back, Nev,” Marlene said.

“No problem,” Neville nodded. “See you later, ‘Mione.”

Hermione waved feebly as she let herself be led to the sofa, where she sank down, still fidgeting with her hems.

“I see those gears turning,” Marlene said, sitting at an angle to face Hermione more. “Tell me what you’re thinking, love.”

“I called you Mummy,” Hermione said, voice cracking.

“You did,” Marlene nodded, voice even. “How do you feel about that?”

Hermione felt the dam break, tears pressing at the corners of her eyes as she spilled everything. The guilt she felt over her parents. How she felt unworthy of having a mummy when she’d hurt her first one. How relieved she felt when she did call Marlene her mummy. Her conversation with Neville, and his advice. Marlene listened carefully until Hermione finished.

“I think,” Marlene said, “that Neville is becoming one wise Caregiver.”

“He is,” Hermione quietly agreed. She chewed on her lip, prompting Marlene to pull her into her lap. She laid her head on Marlene’s chest.

“It’s okay if you’re my Mummy, too?” Hermione asked, voice suddenly very small.

“Of course, little love,” Marlene said. “As long as you want to.”

Hermione buried her face and sighed, finally letting go and dropping fully.

“Love you, Mummy.”

Chapter Text

The next couple of weeks flew by, and Marlene was thankful that Hermione seemed to finally be fully settling into her headspace. She spent her days and early evenings busy with schoolwork, and dropped for her bedtime routine to decompress. Weekends were spent in whatever headspace suited her mood, and her friends were incredibly helpful with her if she ever dropped around the castle.

Speaking of, life around the castle had settled as well. With more fifth through seventh years getting classified, everyone adjusted to the sights of a Little on the loose around the school. Enough time passed that that Skeeter woman’s headlines had also become old news, and thankfully she hadn’t written further, though Marlene was checking daily for new headlines about her girl.

Friday evenings had become some of her girl’s favorite times. All the seventh years happened to finish class early on Fridays, and Friday nights were the Slytherin nights on the Quidditch pitch, so the teens were free. Hermione usually corralled them to get a jump on weekend assignments, but they ended up in Marlene or Sirius’ quarters, where Ginny and Neville often stayed for dinner, all hanging out until one or both of the Littles needed to head to bed.

This Friday they were in Sirius quarters, having just finished dinner. Neville sat on the floor with Harry, helping him stack blocks for his dragon toy to fly around and knock over, much to the boy’s delight. Ginny sat on the sofa, Hermione curled up next to her with her head in her lap and fast asleep after a few short books. Marlene and Sirius sat in squishy armchairs, quietly debating this year’s Quidditch contenders for the next World Cup, when there was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get that,” Sirius said, rising quietly so as to not disturb Hermione as he passed. “Oh, Kings- uh, I mean, Minister, come on in.”

Marlene looked up as Kingsley walked into the room, Professor McGonagall trailing behind him quietly. Both wore grim expressions, though McGonagall’s face softened at the sight of Hermione sleeping. Marlene automatically moved to lift her off of Ginny’s lap, shushing her back to sleep in her own arms.

“Pup, why don’t you show Neville and Ginny all the new jammies we got? Maybe they can help you pick some out for tonight,” Sirius said, ushering a curious Harry into his room, Ginny and Neville following. He closed the door behind the teens, standing in front of it to keep a curious Harry from interrupting.

“Professor McKinnon,” Kingsley greeted kindly, inviting himself to sit in one of the armchairs, gesturing for Marlene to do the same. McGonagall stood behind the sofa, arms crossed as she watched.

“Please, call me Marlene,” Marlene said softly, settling Hermione in her lap. “Is this something I need to wake her for?”

“No,” Kingsley said, a soft smile on his face. “Let the little one sleep. But there is news on her case.”

“St. Mungo’s has sent word,” McGonagall continued, “that they believe her parents’ minds have been fully restored. They’ll be keeping them for another week or so for observation, just to be sure since they are Muggles, but they’ve been asking for another visit, and the Ministry has agreed to allow it.”

“That’s wonderful,” Marlene said. “She’d want to be awake to hear that.”

“Don’t just yet,” Kingsley said. “There’s bad news too, I’m afraid. The Wizangamot, now that they have the full report of the damage done from St. Mungo’s, have summoned Hermione to appear. Tomorrow evening.”

“Tomorrow?” Marlene hissed. Hermione fussed in her lap, and she bounced her gently before continuing. “How are we supposed to have time to prepare that quickly?”

“There are some on the Wizengamot that don’t want her prepared,” Kingsley sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Voldemort is gone, but the damage from his reign lives on, I’m afraid, and there are those that…shall we say, aren’t grateful for the actions of our trio.”

“Bumbling idiots,” McGonagall muttered under her breath.

“What can we do?” Marlene asked. She took deep breaths, hoping the pounding of her heart didn’t wake the little girl in her arms. She needed to have a plan before Hermione learned about this, she needed to know how to protect her girl.

“We’re assembling character witnesses on her behalf,” McGonagall promised. “I‘ll be reaching out to see who I can get on such short notice, but rest assured I will do everything in my power to get this sorted.”

“I’m still trying to push the date,” Kingsley said, “but we needed you to know it was coming in case I’m unsuccessful. I’m seeing what strings I have left to pull.”

“We’ll be there,” Sirius said quietly. “I’m sure Harry will insist upon it, and I’ll be there besides.”

“I’m quite sure Miss Weasley and Mr. Longbottom will also want to attend,” McGonagall said.

“Have you talked with her about the adoption process?” Kingsley asked.

“We have,” Marlene said softly. “Just haven’t made a final decision. I’ve been trying to give her as much time as I could to process everything. It’s all hit her one after the other.”

“I understand,” Kingsley said, standing. “But if that’s an option you both plan to pursue, I would take it sooner rather than later. For now, I’m off to see what else I can do. Have a good evening, everyone.”

“We’ll do what we can, I promise you,” McGonagall added, before following the minister out the door. Marlene stared at the door after, forcing herself to breathe.

“We should tell them,” Sirius said, gesturing to the door he guarded.

“Give me a moment to wake her,” Marlene said, “and we can tell them all at once.”

Marlene leaned down, gently calling Hermione’s name and shaking her shoulder until the girl stirred. Once big brown eyes looked up at her, she forced a smile.

“Darling, I have some news, but I need you to be a big girl for us to talk about it for a moment. Can you do that?”

Hermione blinked, a fist rubbing sleep out of her eyes before she sat up, moving out of Marlene’s lap to sit on the sofa. Marlene watched as Hermione pulled herself out of headspace, and knew she was ready when the girl gave up her dummy, passing it to her for safekeeping.

Sirius opened the door and called for the other kids, gesturing for them to join them. Harry blinked and rubbed the back of his neck, a sign that he, too, had managed to return to his adult headspace.

“Ginny overheard some and looked worried,” Harry explained, catching Sirius’ questioning glance. “Made me nervous enough to want to be able to fight this.”

“I wasn’t trying to listen,” Ginny added, “I was going to poke my head out and ask Sirius if he wanted us to get Harry dressed, but I got close enough to hear…well, I’ll wait to hear the whole thing.”

“What’s going on?” Hermione asked, and Marlene’s heart broke at seeing the anxiety on her girl’s face. She immediately moved to sit next to her on the sofa, Ginny plopping in front of her as well, taking one of Hermione’s hands in hers. 

“I have good news and bad news, love,” Marlene began. “The good news is they believe they’ve righted your parents’ memories. They’re keeping them for observation for a bit longer, but your parents want a visit.”

“That’s great news,” Neville said, and Ginny gave Hermione’s hand a comforting squeeze. Hermione, however, kept her gaze on Marlene.

“The bad news,” she continued, “is the Wizengamot has scheduled your hearing. For tomorrow.” 

The reaction was like someone set off a firework. Harry swore loudly, Neville and Ginny both shouted protests, but Marlene watched Hermione. Her eyes widened, her lip wobbled, but she suddenly was eerily quiet.

“We’re assembling character witnesses—“ Sirius began.

“I’m going,” Harry insisted.

“I already told McGonagall we’d be there,” Sirius promised.

“We’ll go too,” Ginny said, “won’t we, Nev?”

“Of course!” 

Marlene was comforted, but Hermione’s stare was still blank, which worried her. She leaned over, brushing some of Hermione’s hair behind her ear.

“We’re going to go back to our quarters. Do you want to walk, or shall I carry you, love?”

“Walk,” Hermione croaked out. She stood, shoulders tense, and nodded at everyone before making her exit.

“We’ll see what we can figure out,” Sirius called after her, and Marlene nodded before following Hermione, staying a step behind the girl until she made it to their quarters. Once inside, Hermione collapsed on their sofa, still staring straight ahead.

“Talk to me, darling,” Marlene said, sitting next to her, careful to leave space. Last time she saw that empty look in Hermione’s eyes the girl had dropped hard, but something about her posture suggested she was still in her grown headspace.

“They want me to be punished,” the girl said finally, voice raw. “That’s why it’s so sudden.”

“It is,” Marlene confirmed. “But we aren’t going down that easy.”

Hermione nodded, eyes dropping to the floor. 

“Hermione,” Marlene said, deciding to get this over with before the girl did decide to drop, “have you given any more thought to the adoption process?”

She remembered their conversation in the Room of Requirement, where Hermione was open to the idea, but she’d balked the next day when Marlene asked if they wanted to go ahead with it. Then again, that was before Hermione saw her parents, before she fully accepted Marlene as her second mummy.

“I wanted to tell my parents about…this, first,” Hermione said quietly. “But I do want you to adopt me. Just…I didn’t want to yet, not when my parents don’t even know.”

“They’re cured, from the sounds of it,” Marlene reminded her. “We can try to visit tomorrow, if you like.”

“I still don’t feel ready to explain it all,” Hermione said. “I wanted more time.”

“I know you did,” Marlene said. “I wanted you to have more time, too. But I don’t think we’re going to get that luxury, love.”

Hermione’s lip wobbled, her eyes shining. She sniffed before speaking. 

“I’m scared.”

“I know,” Marlene said, pulling the girl to rest against her, “I am too.”

“What do we do?”

“Tomorrow,” Marlene said, summoning more confidence than she felt, “we’ll see about going to visit your parents first thing. Even if we don’t tell them about your classification yet, I think it’ll do you good to see them healed, hm?”

Hermione nodded, rubbing her eyes with her fist. Marlene recognized the signs and summoned a dummy, which she immediately accepted.

“Then we’ll see about the Wizengamot, and we’ll do everything we can to keep you safe at home with me, I promise you.”

“I sleep with you?” Hermione asked, and Marlene could tell the girl was dropping quickly now, the worry pushing her over the edge.

“Of course, little love. Come on, let’s get ready for bed, and you’ll sleep with me tonight.”

Marlene stood and lifted Hermione, carrying her into the next room. She used a quick bathing spell before dressing her in jammies, as the girl’s eyes grew heavier every moment. This was going to be a hard drop, then. Marlene took it in stride, tucking her into her side as they went to bed. Hermione snuggled as close as she could.

“Scared, mummy.”

“I know, but you’re safe tonight. Mummy’s got you, darling.”

Chapter Text

Hermione woke in a cold sweat, snapping to her adult headspace as she shot out of bed. Marlene was already up and dressed and rushed to her side.

“I can’t do this,” Hermione gasped, allowing herself to be pulled into her caregiver’s arms.

“We’ll do it together,” Marlene soothed. Her hand was rubbing Hermione’s back gently, and the girl realized she was holding her breath. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Hermione said again, her stomach convulsing. Marlene helped her up and to their shared bathroom, where the contents of her stomach upturned. She felt Marlene holding her hair back and heard a request for Krafty to bring a vial from Madam Pomfrey.

“Get it out darling, and I’ve got a potion for you when you’re ready,” Marlene soothed, patting Hermione’s back as she coughed and heaved. After a moment the nausea eased enough that Hermione was able to hold her hand out for the vial, swallowing it gratefully.

“One thing at a time today, love,” Marlene said softly, conjuring a washcloth so Hermione could wipe her face. “First, we’ll have a bit of toast, then we’ll go see your parents. What we tell them today is up to you.”

“They need to know,” Hermione said. “They deserve the full truth from me, from now on.”

“Then we’ll explain it all to them,” Marlene said. “I’ll stay with you the whole time, if you like.”

Hermione nodded. She wasn’t sure how her parents would take the idea of age regression, of their daughter becoming a baby again mentally, and she didn’t want to find out on her own.

“And we’ll handle the rest after that,” Marlene said. “Feeling big still?”

Hermione nodded. Her mind was swirling, the fuzzy feeling trying to reach out, but the anxiety of the day helped her keep it shoved down. She couldn’t face this as a toddler. Not today. 

“I’ll leave you to get dressed and ready then, and have some toast ready for you. Maybe something on your stomach will help keep it settled, hm?”

Hermione nodded again as Marlene walked out. She bit her lip to keep from crying as she got dressed, cursing the Wizengamot for putting all of this on her in one day. At least the vial from Madam Pomfrey seemed to be kicking in. 

She went in the next room and let Marlene coach her through eating a few tiny bites of toast. She only nodded at Marlene’s questions, unwilling to speak more than necessary, though she did communicate that she wanted to get the news of her classification over with quickly. 

Once she’d managed a full piece of toast, Hermione let Marlene lead her to the fireplace to take the Floo, and then to her parents’ ward. They were waiting when she entered.

“Hermione, there you are darling- what ever is the matter?” 

Her mother’s face fell as she saw the stricken look on Hermione’s, and all she could do was fall into her mother’s arms and bury her face, taking deep breaths to keep the tears from falling. 

“Calm down, poppet, we’ve been put right, and all is forgiven,” her father tried, reaching to embrace her as well.

“Perhaps it’s best if we all sit down,” Marlene said gently, waving her wand to transfigure one of the hospital chairs into a sofa so Hermione could sit comfortably with her parents. She squished herself between them, hiding her face in her hands.

“Can you do it?” Hermione asked feebly, peeking one eye at Marlene. 

“What’s going on?” Mr. Granger asked, casting worried looks back and forth from Hermione to Marlene. Mrs. Granger merely put an arm around Hermione’s shoulders, trying to console her.

“In our world,” Marlene began, “we have a system of Classifications that witches and wizards fall into. Students test for their classification as teenagers, though they start presenting themselves even without the test.”

“What sort of classifications? And why are you upset, darling? Is it bad?” Mrs. Granger asked. Hermione started quietly crying, unable to even look up or answer.

“It’s not necessarily bad,” Marlene said, and Hermione was thankful to hear her caregiver’s voice remain even and comforting. 

“There’s three classifications that someone will be classified as,” Marlene continued. “We aren’t entirely sure how they’re determined, though we suspect a mixture of genetics and life experiences, but the main thing we do know is that once a person’s magical cores reaches maturity, it falls under one of those classifications, and the results are permanent.”

“What are the options?” Mr. Granger asked. 

“Most people are what we call Neutral. Their classification doesn’t change much, their cores just hit maturity to help them control their magic and they move on. Other people, like me, are considered Caregivers. This is exceedingly rare, and gives me a new level of empathy and special magical abilities that enable me to care for others. My core is strengthened by caring for others,” Marlene explained. 

She paused for a moment, and Hermione tensed as she waited for the third one. She felt her parents shift forward on the sofa, and braced herself for Marlene to continue.

“The last,” Marlene said, and Hermione could hear that she’d taken a deep breath, “are what we call Littles. These are people who require extra nurturing, and tend to regress to a younger headspace.”

“As in…they become like, children?” Mr. Granger asked.

“In their same bodies, yes,” Marlene confirmed. “Littles can regress as high as teenagers and as low as infants, or have a range depending on their level of need that day.”

“Let me guess,” Mrs. Granger said, and Hermione’s heart beat in her ears. “Darling, are you one of those?”

Hermione squeaked and nodded, holding her breath.

“So, you…you become a child, mentally, even though you’re eighteen?” Mr. Granger asked, and Hermione whimpered and felt hot tears leak into her hands.

“You’re not helping,” Mrs. Granger scolded. “Hermione, he’s just trying to understand. This is something that you can’t help, correct?”

Hermione shook her head furiously, still unable to bring herself to speak.

“The way her classification works, it could harm her if she fights it,” Marlene explained softly. “Her core is unstable unless it’s properly nurtured. Her core in particular was very unstable by the time she was classified, which is why they placed her with me, in hopes that my Caregiver abilities could help her, which they have.”

“So this is like a medical thing,” Mr. Granger said slowly. “Well, I don’t understand it, but poppet, I don’t have to understand it to know I want you safe and healthy.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Granger added, pulling Hermione up until her head was against her mother’s chest. “Darling, you needn’t be ashamed. From the sounds of it, this is something that happens, and you needn’t be upset about doing what’s best for you.”

Hermione nodded, crying as her mother rocked her. “I’m sorry,” she managed.

“Don’t be sorry, love,” her mother soothed. “We still love you. Though I feel sorry for…sorry, remind me your name?”

“Marlene.”

“For Marlene. You were a handful as a child.”

Hermione smiled slightly as she cried, relief flooding her as her mother held her close and her father scooted over to rub her back soothingly. 

“She’s not too much of a handful,” Marlene offered, and Hermione felt her mother chuckle. 

“Does she still fidget with her clothes when she’s nervous?” Mrs. Granger asked. 

“She does,” Marlene said, and Hermione felt her face get hot, though her mum’s soft and curious tone helped her tears to slow.

“I bet she still bites on her lips and chews her nails,” her father added, though he gently nudged her to indicate he was teasing. “Always thought she did that because we had to take her dummy away so young, to protect her teeth.”

“She does,” Marlene confirmed again, “though we have spells to protect her teeth, so she gets a dummy when she asks for one.”

“Marlene,” Hermione whined, face burning redder as the adults all chuckled. 

“It’s alright love, we’re only teasing,” Mrs. Granger said. “Are you happy, with Marlene taking care of you?”

“Yes,” Hermione said. “In fact, she, uh…she may be adopting me. Just, just while I’m dropped, of course. Is that…is that okay?”

There was a pause, and Hermione dared to look up as her parents exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable to her. She fretted until Marlene caught her eye and gave her a reassuring nod, which helped settle the storm bubbling inside her head.

“I suppose it makes sense to make sure someone’s taking care of you, if you’re in that mindset,” Mr. Granger said finally. Hermione turned into her mother once more, hiding her face as she decided on one last confession, not wanting to keep a single other thing from her parents.

“I call her ‘Mummy’ when I’m Little,” Hermione said. Her hands reached and clung to her mother’s shirt, desperate for the woman to not be mad at her. She felt her mother’s breath hitch for a moment, her heartbeat get faster, before she spoke.

“Hermione,” her mother began, dropping her head to speak in the girl’s ear, “I’ve known since that professor came and told us about Hogwarts that you would always have your foot in two separate worlds. You will always, always be my little girl, but you belong to the magic world too. I’m happy to know you have a mummy to take care of you there, too.”

Hermione nearly melted in relief, unsure how her eye managed to conjure more tears, but they did. Her parents held her together, both whispering soothing words and promises to be there for her no matter what happened, and assurances that she was loved and forgiven. 

She heard a knock on the door at one point, and was only vaguely aware of Marlene standing and speaking to someone. After a few moments, she heard Marlene walk back over to the group.

“Hermione, I’ve just gotten word from Kingsley. He’s managed to talk them into moving your hearing to next week.”

Relief filled Hermione further, the fuzzy feeling pushing at her brain hard in this turn of events. Fear of the trial kept her from wanting to drop; with another week to prepare, everything in her was ready to let go.

“Hearing? What hearing?” Mrs. Granger asked. 

“For what I did to you,” Hermione said, voice trembling.

“Can’t we tell them we aren’t pressing charges?” Mr. Granger asked. “She had her reasons, and we forgive her, and we’ve been put right.”

“It doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid,” Marlene sighed. “But I’m sure they’d welcome a statement from you both to that effect. It can only help her case.”

Hermione let out a whine, beginning to find it too hard to hold off on her headspace, the fuzzy feeling becoming an ache. She looked up at Marlene, begging the woman to understand what she needed. She did, of course.

“Are you dropping, love?” Marlene asked, crouching next to the girl. Hermione nodded, fist rubbing her eyes. 

“We can stay and visit while you’re dropped,” Marlene offered, “but if you aren’t ready for that, we can go for now. I’ll be sure you can visit your parents a lot more, if they’re up for it.”

“Of course we are,” Mrs. Granger said, and she pressed a kiss to the side of Hermione’s head. “Go on with Marlene now, love, and take care of yourself. We’ll see you again soon, I’m sure.”

Hermione sniffled, saying her goodbyes. Marlene stood in front of her, and Hermione, deciding her parents seemed to be alright with her classification, raised her arms to be lifted. Marlene murmured the featherlight charm as she scooped her up, situating her on her hip.

“How on earth?” Mr. Granger marveled. 

“There’s a charm that makes her practically weightless,” Marlene explained. “Helps a lot with Littles, as you can see.”

“Amazing,” Mrs. Granger said.

Hermione laid her head on Marlene’s shoulder, waving goodbye to her parents once more as Marlene carried her out. She felt herself dropping and had nothing left in her to fight it, and by the time Marlene got her home, her thumb was firmly planted in her mouth.

“What a brave girl you were this morning,” Marlene murmured, carrying Hermione straight to her room to change her into softer clothes now that she’d dropped. “My brave, beautiful girl, I’m so proud of you.”

Hermione flushed at the praise, gratefully taking the dummy that Marlene summoned before going completely limp. She let Marlene dress her, not even blinking as she was put in a nappy. Marlene lifted her as she finished, taking her in the sitting room before sitting on the sofa and settling Hermione in her lap.

“We’re going to have a little rest, now, love,” Marlene said softly. 

“Mummy?” Hermione asked. One of her hands reached to grip the hem of Marlene’s shirt, twisting it slightly in her fist.

“Yes?”

“Adopt me now?”

“Yes love. We’ll have a little story and rest now, and then I’ll see what needs to be done for your adoption this afternoon.”

Hermione nodded at that, satisfied, and laid her head on Marlene’s chest. Her caregiver summoned a storybook and blanket, tucking them in before beginning to read, and for just a moment, Hermione wasn’t worried about anything at all.