Chapter 3: Down Under

The Golden Trio and Rose Apparated to Australia that very night, but not before leaving a note at Shell Cottage telling the Weasleys where they were going. Harry quickly found the little band a hotel in Sydney, where the quartet promptly fell across their beds and slept like they hadn't slept in years.

The Muggle train rumbled along as Harry studied the newspaper over the rim of his spectacles. He was reading the Australian version of the Prophet, masked to look like a Muggle paper. Seated across from him, with Rose nursing at her breast, Hermione held her wand over a large map, frowning. After a moment, she yelped excitedly:

"There! They have their dental practice in Wahroonga, and live close by!"

Ron woke up from where he had been passed out on the seat next to her, and gingerly took Rose from his wife. "Wahroonga? Where's that?"

Harry's eyes darted over to the map on the wall opposite their compartment, before cross-referencing with a card in the seat pocket. "About four stops from here. We should be there before dark."

Indeed, the sun was sinking low, just hovering over the trees, as the quartet disembarked at the Wahroonga station. Using a locator spell on the tip of her wand, Hermione navigated her family towards a small-red brick house. Harry pulled up short, frowning.

"Is that their practice?"

"No," Hermione explained, and there was suddenly a strange tremor in her voice. "Their house."

"'Mione? Are you all right?" Ron put an arm around her worriedly. She shrugged him off, bouncing Rose a little in her arms.

"Let's get this over with."

The Golden Trio marched up to the door and knocked. After a moment, a woman answered.

"Can I help you?"

At the sight of the mother who did not remember her, Hermione burst into wracking sobs, holding Rose close to her chest.

"Sorry, miss. Dental visits terrify her. She has an appointment. This is your practice, yes?" Harry lied fluidly. He appreciated Ron having the good sense to play along.

"We looked you up in the phone book on a recommendation, and this was the address," Ron added.

"Oh, no, our offices are a few streets over," Mrs. Granger explained. "But... why don't you bring her in for a nice cup of tea, and I can take a preliminary look? Then you can bring her in fresh in the morning. Come along, dear." And she ushered Hermione and the boys in. "Wendell! Visitors! Put the kettle on!"

Hermione's father poked his head in from the kitchen, overlooking the group curiously. The sight of him only made Hermione cry harder.

"There we are..." Mrs. Granger steered her daughter whom she did not know about onto a couch. "Now, what's your name, child?"

"Hermione," Hermione hiccuped.

"A beautiful name," Mrs. Granger beamed. "Unique. I would have wanted to name my daughter something like that, if I had one. I imagine your baby's name is unique as well?"

Hermione gulped. "This is Rose." And she held the bundle aloft, so Mrs. Granger could inspect her grandchild.

"Beautiful," Mr. Granger praised, striding in with a tea tray and passing out mugs. On either side of Hermione, Ron and Harry glanced at each other.

"Can she do it?" Harry mouthed.

"Dunno," Ron mouthed back. "Maybe one of us should?"

Harry silently held up a hand, signaling to wait. Hermione seemed to finally be calming herself down. She switched her gaze between her two best friends.

"I have to do it," she murmured quietly.

"Do what, dear?" Mrs. Granger had overheard. Hermione stood, trembling.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what?" Mr. Granger frowned.

"For this." And Hermione waved her wand. There was a strong flash of blue light, which slowly faded to find Mr. and Mrs. Granger blinking rather slowly, as if they were waking up from a dream. Mrs. Granger was the first to recover, narrowing her eyes at her daughter.

"Hermione?"

Hermione burst into another round of tears and flung herself into her mother's arms. "It worked! Oh, thank Merlin!"

"Young lady," Mr. Granger's voice seemed more on edge, even angry. "What did you do to us?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Hermione blubbered. "I wanted... to keep you safe!"

"Safe? Safe from what? Hermione, why are we here?" And Mr. Granger stamped his foot.

It was then that Mrs. Granger noticed something glistening on Hermione's right hand, and that she now saw the little bundle in Hermione's arms in a new light. "Oh my God... you're... you're married?" She peered at Rose in wonder; the baby, totally oblivious, shrieked in delight and reached for her grandmother. "Is she yours?" And the question came out in a whisper.

Harry and Ron's gazes snapped to each other's, then to Mr. Granger, who was looking at both of them, even as he shook in rage. His face had turned purple, and there was a clear tick from the muscle in his jaw. He advanced on the men like a prowling bull.

"Who was it?" he snarled. "Which one of you defiled my little girl?"

Harry was fully prepared to lie and take the hit, if it meant Ron would be spared, but he didn't have time to craft a yarn claiming paternity, never mind get the words out, before Mr. Granger's pupils were sweeping towards Ron. The shorter man started, pointing a finger at Ron.

"You! It was you, right? Right?! Answer me!"

Gulping, Ron gave a guilty little nod.

In a flash, Mr. Granger was charging at Ron, hands around his throat, throwing him to the ground. Harry instinctively leapt on top of Hermione's father, even as Rose began to wail and Hermione screamed, "Dad! Stop! STOP!"

"What did you do? What did you do to her? My baby! I should kill you, I should bloody kill you!"

"Mr. Granger! Sir! Stop it!" Despite being about the same size as Hermione's dad, Harry managed to haul him off his best mate and did the only thing he could think of. He sat on him, pinning Mr. Granger to the floor. Years and months fighting Dark Wizards had made Harry lean and muscular. Ron staggered to his feet.

"Down! Keep him down!"

But Mr. Granger was slowly giving up the fight, and cautiously, Harry moved off of him. The man leapt to his feet, glaring at every one in the room, even Hermione.

"Daddy, calm down! It was an accident!"

"What was an accident? Opening your legs?"

Hermione gasped in horror, cradling Rose closer, as if shielding her daughter from the crass phrase.

The anger slowly dissipated, though the tension remained. Breaths became even, as everyone waited for someone to speak.

"I... I fell in love," Hermione began shakily. "Ron and I... we finally confessed our feelings for each other, and... spent the night together, back in sixth year." Mr. Granger chose this moment to glare at Ron around Harry, who was still standing between the other two men with his arms outstretched.

"Did he hurt you?" her father growled.

"No!" Hermione gasped, and she beamed at Ron. "He was... very good to me, Daddy. So sweet and attentive. And I... I fell pregnant. I kept the baby a secret from you, during last summer. When I had to go help Harry defeat the dark wizard... Voldemort, do you remember him?" Her parents nodded. "When I had to go help Harry, I modified your memories so that you didn't remember me, and would come here to be safe." When Mr. Granger still didn't look convinced, Hermione pleaded with him. "The Death Eaters would have killed you, Daddy. And Mum. You knew things about Harry, things that I told you. Plus, you are Muggles, and Voldemort wanted to get rid of all magical people." She shook her head to blink back tears. "I didn't mean to have a baby, but once I did... I knew love in a whole new way," and she gazed at Rose, almost lovesick, reaching out one finger for her to grasp. "The mission was dangerous. Ron and I thought we might die, and so, one day, we got married." The almost giddy grin was back on her face. "We wed on the beach... good friends were there... it was amazing."

Mrs. Granger was blinking back tears of joy, and seemed to believe her daughter. Her husband, meanwhile, suddenly pointed an accusing finger at Harry. "And you went along with this?"

Harry blinked, unsure how or why this involved him. "Of course I did, sir. It's what they wanted. Your daughter and Ron are my best friends. I'm godfather for Rose. They were both eighteen."

"That's just the thing, you haven't even lived! Either of you!" Mr. Granger moaned, seeming encouragingly more calm, though his voice was still somewhat raised.

"With all due respect, sir, my wife, best mate and I have seen things you could not imagine," Ron piped up bravely.

Mr. Granger glowered at him. "How do I know you will treat her well? Who the hell are you, anyway?"

Ron straightened up to his full height. "You're right. I am not a national hero. I am not the smartest person I've ever met. I am no one. I am nothing. I am just a kid who is hopelessly in love with your daughter. Sir, I've loved your daughter since we were eleven years old. I reckon I loved her from the first moment I saw her, really. I just needed time to catch up to my heart. I would lay down my life for your daughter, and my own daughter, and would do it gladly."

Hermione was gazing at Ron, her eyes shining, her heart melting. Harry gaped at his best friend, clearly impressed with his eloquence. Mr. Granger was peering at Ron rather curiously; he looked almost stunned.

Harry took the moment to clear his throat. "We thought... we thought we could spend a few days here, while we get your affairs in order. That is, if you still wish to return to England, we'd be happy to take you there."

Mrs. Granger nodded. "Of course. You are all welcome to stay the night. There's a guest bedroom upstairs."

"Brilliant," Hermione grinned, taking Ron's hand. "Come on, love."

"Hold it!" Mr. Granger snapped, and he pointed a rather large finger at Ron. "You sleep down here. There's a perfectly good couch..."

Harry promptly sprawled himself across said couch, and feigned a yawn. "Actually, sir, my leg's gotten a bit cramped at that. I'll be fine sleeping down here."

Mr. Granger shifted his ire towards Harry, but Harry held his gaze. He did not want to go against Hermione's father, but he would to keep his family happy. "You really don't want to do that, son..."

Harry shrugged off Mr. Granger's warning. "Actually, I think I do."

"Fine!" Mr. Granger spluttered, spinning back to Ron. "Then you sleep on the floor."

"No," Hermione squeezed Ron's hand. "Ron is staying with me and our baby."

"You would defy your father?" Mr. Granger practically roared.

"You would have me dishonor my husband?" Hermione gasped. Ron kissed her temple to calm her.

"Go on up with Rosie, love. I will follow."

Hermione kissed his lips soundly, in full view of her parents, as though she was trying to make a point. And she likely was. "Don't be too long," she whispered. And she glided up alongside the banister, Rose in her arms. Ron bravely stared down Mr. Granger.

"I shall talk with you alone."

"Jolly good," Mr. Granger relished through gritted teeth. And the two men shifted towards the kitchen, Mrs. Granger dithering after them. Harry stretched himself out on the couch, trying to get comfortable.

"What a family reunion," he muttered to himself.

It was dark outside, many hours later, and Harry was snoring away. Hermione tentatively crept down the stairs, eyeing the lights on in the kitchen warily. Peering around the corner from where she paused on the landing, she saw her husband and her father talking in low tones, over a game of cards. Her mother was making another pot of coffee.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Would you please have Ron come up and sleep with me? We're married," she requested sweetly.

Mr. Granger's face grew red, and Ron slowly pushed back his chair, crossing to his wife and kissing her gently.

"Rosie asleep?"

"And having sweet dreams," Hermione beamed. "Goodnight, Mummy, Daddy." And the young couple retired to their bedroom.

Hermione purchased plane tickets for her family several days later, and the six people returned to England by Muggle airplane.

It took a while, but Hermione and her parents began to repair their relationship. Ron and Hermione remarried in a proper ceremony with all their friends and family in attendance. Mr. Granger eventually accepted Ron's presence in their lives, and doted on Rose, his granddaughter.

Hermione adored it all, feeling as though she had achieve her own fairytale ending. She would live with her daughter, and the man she loved, happily ever after.