Extract from ''The Wolf Queen''

It has widely been discussed, both in my other books and amongst scholars, that the role of the Chosen One in the Second Wizarding War was a minimal one. When the Chosen One fell in 1997 it became clear that the true power behind the resistance lay with one of his most trusted commanders.

Hermione Granger is noted as being a highly accomplished witch and strategist, as well as being hailed as one of the saviours of the free world. Much of her young life was spent fighting against the Dark; either on the run from Death Eaters, or using gorilla tactics to strike back at them. She vanished completely in the latter years of the war, a dead army behind her, leaving rumour as the only guide to her whereabouts.

Very little is known about her activities in these years. Piecemeal reports indicate that Granger fled to the Americas, continually on the run, making little to no impact upon people as she travelled.

The most infamous documented recording of her presence is also the latest.

In 2013 eyewitness accounts place Granger leading the charge with fellow leader of the Light, Neville Longbottom, against Lord Voldemort's forces. While Longbottom is known to have wielded the sword of Gryffindor against the snake Nagini - thus removing the last defence of the Dark Lord – It was Hermione Granger who faced You-Know-Who in his final duel.

It is here that reports differ.

Some accounts tell us that Granger was mortally wounded in her fight and, although she emerged victorious, was left to die alone not long afterwards.

Others suggest that with his dying breath the Dark Lord banished her, cursing her to never be found.

More fantastical accounts suggest she was transfigured, dismembered or obliviated. That in killing the Dark Lord she lost her own magic and fled a muggle.

All of these accounts share a common theme, the disappearance or death of the Wolf Queen.

And this is, to some extent, true.

Hermione Granger vanished not long after the duel and hasn't been seen publically since.

There is one account I am compelled to believe more than others. Lord Longbottom, who spends the majority of his time breeding orchids in Kent, deigned to speak with me in a rare, and short, interview. Now well into his fifties, Lord Longbottom looked unusually old for his age and his hands shook as he poured out tea for us both.

NL: ''Hermione...I saw her fighting against Voldemort but I was too busy keeping Death Eaters off her back to really pay attention. She killed him, everyone knows that.'' He sighed, looking tired. ''Afterwards we destroyed the lodestone, dropping the wards around Britain. And of course foreign Aurors flooded in almost immediately. They'd been trying to help for years. And...I got caught up in explaining who I was and what had happened and when I turned for her side of the story...she wasn't there. She was standing at the back of the hall near a door and she just looked at me and then at the Aurors. I could see...That was the night of the meteor shower...I remember her staring at the sky in horror before we attacked. I've always wondered what had bothered her about those meteors. Anyway, she just looked at me and smiled and...I knew right then she wasn't coming back. She waved at me and she was gone.''

HD: And you've not heard from her since?

NL: ''She sends me a Christmas card occasionally. Letting me know she's still alive. I don't...I don't blame her for staying away. The reminders...''

It seems tragic that the woman to whom we owe so much receives so little of the adulation she is due. However perhaps that is for the best. Hermione Granger knew her country at its darkest and she fought to save it. Because of her Newbloods the world over receive the respect and safety they deserve. Because of her Britain is a safe place to live and magic is once again flourishing.

Yes, it is true that we have lost much of our culture and traditions, true that many in Europe call us a ''New Land''. But our history is just that, history. There are too few who remember the First Wizarding War and entire generation is missing from our streets and homes. Newbloods outnumber Purebloods by ten to one. Britain has changed for the better and our grand architect is not here to see it.

However I have it on the best authority that she is not only still alive, but happy and healthy.

And for that we must be thankful.

HD

Unpublished letter sent to the Author's father. Published after the author's death in 2110.

I decided to follow Hermione Granger's trail through America. She was reported to have docked in New York and then made her way steadily across the country. Her locations can only be guessed at due to was remaining records there are from Death Eaters perusing her. For the most part it was a fruitless journey, but I occasionally found trace of her presence. The symbol of the Hollows etched into the back of a billboard in Atlanta, an old yellowing poster bearing the legend ''Long live the Wolf Queen'', an old hearth-magic bracelet made of red and gold ribbons and sealed with a lion charm. However it never occurred to me that while I was searching for signs of her, she might have been looking for me.

I had given up hope of picking up the trail for a final time, the last known trace of Hermione had been twenty miles ago. Instead I had spread my maps and notes out across the table of a café in a state in southern America. I was halfway through annotating my notebook when three people slid onto the bench across from me.

Two of them were men, large and intimidating, aged somewhere in their fifties. They stared at me with cold, hard eyes and folded arms.

The woman was instantly recognisable. Like any student of the Emrys Academy I grew up in the shadow of the Wolf Queen's statue. The Memorial Courtyard was one of the first sight's I remember seeing when I arrived at the new wizarding school. Of the six statues, the Queen's has always been my favourite for obvious reasons.

She looked different now, older with grey in her hair and wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. She was battle scarred in a way I hadn't expected but then the history books have always played down the Second War and I couldn't help but wonder how many fights this woman had been in. How many she'd won. How many she'd lost.

She seemed smaller than I'd expected too. That could have been due to the large men flanking her or to a twisted perspective from spending my childhood gazing up at an eight foot bronze statue.

Despite all of this, despite the fact that she was dressed like someone's aunt in a woollen jumper, with hair braided back, despite the fact she was smaller and older...Hermione Granger still had presence. Of a powerful magical being...of an incredibly dangerous woman.

''Apparently,'' She said slowly, ''You've been looking for me.''

I shook myself out of my shock and nodded.

''What for?''

I realise now that my actions must have seemed very suspicious to her. I'd made no attempt to keep my enquiries quiet and it hadn't occurred to me that someone searching for a war hero might be extremely unwelcome.

''Eek.'' I managed. I won't lie, I was very intimidated. ''You're The Queen.''

She blinked at me.

''Glory, are people still calling me that?'' She breathed, looking surprised.

I nodded.

''Wonderful.'' She rolled her eyes and leaned forward slightly. ''What did you want?''

''Nothing! It's just...I'm a historian. And I wasn't looking for you. I mean, I was...I'd hoped but...no one's heard from you in twenty years. I was just following the wanted posters and...''

''Breath.'' She ordered and I sucked in a breath.

''What does a historian want with a trail that went cold twenty years ago?'' The larger man asked, brushing his hair away from his face.

''Um...for my book?'' I flushed, feeling horrible embarrassed. I'm certain this never happened to Merlin's historians. ''I'm...er...writing your biography?''

Her brown eyes narrowed at me.

''For the love of Merlin, why?'' She snapped.

''Because you're an important historical figure!'' I cried, ''And because I already wrote the other ones.''

There was a horrible moment of silence in which I was stared at by three different people.

''Explain.'' She ordered darkly. The shorter of the two men reached out and caught her hand, twining their fingers together.

''Well...'' I swallowed. ''I wrote about the Chosen One first because that one was the...'' I winced. ''The shortest. And then I did the King and then Lord Longbottom, although he wasn't very happy about that and then I wrote about the rest of the court, the Moon and the Fox. And after I'd written those, and a generalised history of the Second Wizarding War...'' My voice faltered slightly. ''I started to write about you.''

The shorter man frowned.

''Why'd you leave her till last?''

''Writing about the Queen was always going to be difficult,'' I explained awkwardly. ''But I wanted to make sure I...'' I blushed. ''Well, I wanted to make sure hers was the best written. I didn't want to write something she'd be ashamed of.''

They stared at me across the table, the Queen and the shorter man frowning, whilst the taller man just looked thoughtful. Eventually Hermione sighed.

''What's your name?'' She asked.

''Mia.''

She nodded.

''These are Sam and Dean. They're friends of mine.'' Hermione rubbed at her eyes. ''You said you've spoken to Neville?''

''Neville? Oh, Lord Longbottom.'' I realised. ''Yes, he let me interview him for his book. As he's the only primary source of data left, I wanted to be as accurate as possible. He...'' I paused, thinking back to the tired man I'd met a year ago. ''He's doing well.''I offered helplessly.

''That's worth knowing. I never thought he'd take on Augusta's title though.'' She added thoughtfully. ''He always thought it was a bit ''puritanical pureblood'', the house nonsense.''

''He didn't really have much choice, actually.'' I pointed out. ''I mean, when the borders fell, Lord Longbottom was one of the only purebloods left in the country who wasn't executed.''

''Why was 'Mione's book so important to you?'' The taller man, Sam, interrupted.

''Ah...'' And that's the crux of the matter isn't it? You've always wondered why I left the Queen's till last, but she was so important to you, to everyone. I wanted to do her proud. ''It's...You're very important to me.'' I paused to see if this would be enough and Sam gestured for me to go on. ''She's my hero!''

Hermione laughed bitterly at me.

''Mia,'' She sighed, grinning almost madly. ''I'm not a hero. I'm just a tired, washed-out old soldier.''

''Yes, you are!'' I insisted. ''I wouldn't even be alive if it wasn't for you.''

''A lot of people worked to destroy the Registry...''

''Not that.'' I blurted, interrupting her. ''Well, I mean, yes. I'm a Newblood, but other than that. My father named me for you because you saved his life!''

''Whoah.'' Dean said. ''I thought you said your name was Mia?''

''It is.'' I promised. ''It's a nickname.'' I held out my hand. ''Hermione Harriet Dursley. Pleased to meet you.''

Hermione went pale so fast I worried she might faint. She slapped lightly at Dean until he stood to let her off the bench and then she stormed out of the cafe. I let my hand drop to the table.

''I'm...I'm sorry.'' I managed, feeling awful. ''Dad always said they were friends, I just thought...''

Sam gave me an apologetic grimace.

''It's not you, kid. Honest. 'Mione...She does her best to forget the stuff she went through. I guess you must have reminded her of something.''

''She'll be back.'' Dean added.

They spent the next few minutes ignoring me whilst they looked through my notes. I took the time to gather my wits. I'd actually found Hermione Granger. I found her and she was still alive. Even you thought she was dead until I met with Lord Longbottom and you...You're my dad. You're supposed to know everything.

Occasionally Sam or Dean would ask me to clarify a piece of my research until eventually Hermione Granger stormed back into to the diner and scowled at me.

''You're Dudley's daughter.'' She demanded. ''Dudley Dursley's child?''

I swallowed.

''His eldest, yes. Dad...he used to tell me stories about you.''

She sat down on the end of the bench and relaxed her scowl into a frown.

''I didn't even know he was alive.'' She breathed, looking dazed. ''I thought they caught up to him in Europe.''

''Wait,'' Dean broke in. ''How do you two know each other?''

''Her father was under my protection during the war.'' Hermione said quietly. ''I was too late to save her grandparents but I managed to get Dudley free. He spent years moving from safe house to safe house. He used to cook for us and train people how to blend into normal society. Eventually it got too dangerous to have a muggle, particularly that muggle, around. Not long after I lost Ted, there was a raid on our safe house. I managed to get him to Denmark and keep him safe.''

''Dad says it was less of a raid and more of a massacre.'' I pointed out.

''Like I said,'' She insisted sharply. ''I got Dudley to safety.''

''What did you mean, ''that muggle''?'' Sam asked.

''Dudley Dursley was...is Harry's cousin. She's...'' Hermione squinted, ''his first cousin, once removed.''

''Shit.'' Dean breathed.

''I can't believe he's still alive.'' She added, staring at me. ''You've got your great-aunt's eyes, you know.''

''That's what they tell me.'' I agreed awkwardly.

''I just...How is he?'' She asked eventually.

''He's good. He went back to the UK after the border fell, set up his own shop. Sells cakes. Um...he met Mum...they got divorced a few years ago but it was pretty amicable. My brother and I are used to it. My brother's name is Vernon, but people call him Derek. I...I don't know what to tell you,'' I admitted. ''It's fairly normal. A bit boring to be honest.''

Hermione smiled at me and it looked like the first genuine expression I'd seen from her.

''Tell me everything.'' She asked eagerly.

Hermione Granger invited me to stay at her home for several days, before I was due to return to England. She and Dean lived in a small farmhouse that shared a large area of land with a much larger house that was occupied by Sam's family.

Sam introduced me to his wife, an American witch by the name of Isadora who insisted on being called Izzy. Apparently they met when Sam was in hospital. Izzy was his Healer and it was love at first sight. They have two daughters who I didn't meet, as they attend the Salem Witches Academy as first and third years.

Dean and Hermione, who I spent the majority of my time with, were nice company. Hermione has a very dark sense of humour that can take some getting used to, whereas Dean is fairly easy going. They bicker over things constantly, like the best way serve pie or what to have for dinner, but its not malicious. Whether they are together or simply very good friends...I couldn't say. Partially because I am too afraid of Hermione Granger to spread rumours about her love life and partially because I have no idea either way. But they are very close and they suit each other well.

I also met Hermione's son, a cheerful man with bright blue hair and a sunny disposition. He remembered you, apparently you met him in one of the safe houses, although you've never mentioned a Teddy Lupin to me. He was nice and was usually dragging Kevin after him. The nature of that relationship I couldn't guess at either, but that's most because Kevin appears to be continually confused by Teddy's presence. They are Librarians, but they wouldn't tell me where. Apparently it's ''Top Secret''...whatever that's supposed to mean.

I know, growing up, you glossed over the war in your stories and maybe its just as well that you did. Growing up the Chosen One's cousin was hard enough, I didn't need to know the horrific details.

Now though, looking at this woman who has clearly given everything, I find myself wondering what her true part in it all was.

The mantelpiece in Dean and Hermione's house is cluttered with pictures, some of which are very old. There are several of Cousin Harry and even a few of Great Aunt Lily. But interspersed with the pictures of the dead...and they are all dead, I looked them up in the history books. Interspersed with those there are newer pictures. One of Sam's wedding day. Pictures of Mary and Ellen, Sam's daughters. Pictures of Dean and Hermione. Pictures of several people who are probably all Teddy because they're usually accompanied by an awkward looking Kevin. They're happy pictures.

I know, when I set out on this journey, that you warned me not to get my hopes up. I thought that that was because you thought I wouldn't find her. Now I think it's because you thought I would and you were worried about what I'd find. Hermione has told me bits and pieces about the war and I think the soldier you knew must have been a fearsome woman indeed. I can still see her occasionally. Sharp edges that aren't quite hidden behind jumpers and snark.

But whatever she is now, whether or not that soldier is still there, Hermione Granger is happy.

Yes, she is secluded from the world, but she has her son, her nieces, Sam and Izzy, and of course, she has Dean. She laughs easily when there is something to laugh about and she complains that Dean is allergic to cats but cuddles their dog anyway. She and Dean take long walks around their land, gossiping to anyone who'll listen about whatever Teddy has been up to recently and...

...Dad, I think it's a good thing she never came back. Britain is better, history tells me that much. I didn't live through the war, I don't remember the reconstruction but I realise that all my professors were European, because there was no one British left to teach. I realise that Emrys Academy was founded in Wales so that the ruins of Hogwarts could be buried by the land because the misery that permeates that castle is no place for children. And I realise that the graveyard, the one you go to every year...I realise that it is filled with headstones for bodies that aren't there. Filled with empty graves because there is nothing left of her friends, her family, her school mates, her teachers. I realise all that and...I'd give anything for her not to.

She deserves so much more than she has but at the same time, Dean, her new family...I think that is all anyone could need in the world.