Crowley, half past 7 pm, Granger House.
*
The door was opened to me by a skinny middle-aged man with a short haircut of dark brown hair. This Hermione looks a lot like Dad.
"Good afternoon, my name is Harry James Potter. I'd like to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Granger about our family affairs."
"Weren't you mistaken? I don't think we know each other, Mr. Potter."
"No, sir, I'm quite sure."
"Young man, why didn't you come with your older relatives?"
"After the terrorist attack ten years ago, I'm the eldest in the family," I had to work on my sad eyes in advance.
"Excuse me, please come inside. Joan! Come into the room, please."
Mr. Granger walked me into the room, which had a desk with a phone, a chair, a sofa, a book rack. The room was bright and cozy. Mr. Granger pointed at my chair. He and his wife took a seat on the sofa. Joan doesn't look like the canonical Hermione at all, Mom has black hair, blue eyes. I didn't think she was pretty at all. But I haven't seen Hermione yet, so it's too early to tell who she looks like.
"What did you want to talk about, Mr. Potter?"
"Call me Harry, sir. I'll start from a distance. You must have noticed that your daughter is doing paranormal things. Does she move things with her eyes, perhaps set them on fire or break them?"
"For what purpose are you asking, Harry?"
"Sir, I say this because I have a similar gift myself, only a weaker one."
"This is all interesting, of course, but what does it have to do with us?"
"Let me tell the whole story, sir. In a few days or weeks, your daughter will receive a letter from a private school for gifted children with paranormal abilities. One of the teachers will bring the letter. Now my words sound like a fairy tale. But the school teacher will be able to convince you it's not a joke or a prank. They'll invite your daughter to develop her talent at Hogwarts Private School, sir. That's why I came. My gift is weaker than your daughter's. But in anticipation, fate is open to me for the future, seven to ten years, sir. I have, in a way, lived several of my lives in anticipation, sir. You may consider yourself a man with 20 years of experience. At Hermione's school, there will be death threats in the first and second years - that's guaranteed. Without my intervention, Hermione is going to die on October 31, 1991."
Mr. Granger jumped up, and the lady stretched her hands to her face in terror.
"What are you saying, boy, don't you dare threaten us, I'll call the police now."
Well, with a kind word and a gun... I pulled a revolver out of the inside pocket of my jacket.
"Sit down!"
"You..."
"Shut up! Sit down!"
"You..."
After waiting ten seconds, I went on.
"You misunderstood me. I didn't come to threaten you, I came to warn you. I've seen many options for our future. In some options Hermione and I are best friends, in some we are husband and wife. In some cases we are enemies and betray each other. Always one thing. Hermione is the most important person in my life, and I am in hers. I'll make sure she doesn't die, even if we become enemies. Our destinies are connected."
The Grangers sat quietly, not looking at me, and I realized that I had failed the negotiations again. Even with a kind word and a gun, you don't always get results. I'm sure they're thinking of getting away from this nutcase right now. As the instruction says in such cases, do not contradict the madman. So now they're going to pretend to believe it. Hermione's father quietly asked.
"And what do you suggest?"
"You can't refuse to send your daughter to Hogwarts. They'll tell you, and it's true that without training, she could one day snap at the nearest people and even accidentally kill them. If you persist, she will be taken by force and your memory will be erased."
The Grangers were looking at me with round eyes.
"Alas, they don't respect the rights of ordinary people. The only way for you to move immediately is to move to France, for example. There, Hermione will go to a local school for the gifted where she will not be in such danger."
"And why would she be in danger in Britain?"
"She's not the only one. A society of people with paranormal abilities in Britain is not the best society for people like your daughter. They call themselves "magicians". Magic Britain is in a state of sluggish civil war caused by power struggles between two terrorist groups. My father foolishly joined one of them. Four adults from my family died, I'm alone, and by a miracle. The leaders of both groups want to see me dead. Their only difference of opinion is how I should die. When I save Hermione on October 31st, we'll be friends. They'll try to use her as leverage against me. Even if she has not been noticed since the beginning of her life in the magical world, she will be noticed a little later and tried to be used in dirty machinations. Hermione is the star of the mind over this swamp of paranormal degenerates who take full pride in their centuries of inbreeding. Everyone will see its glow, and everyone will want to use it. Your daughter will be the smartest wizard in fifty years. But her trust in the elders and faith in her teachers will make her easy prey for manipulators."
Time to wrap it up. On Diagon Alley, I bought a few pairs of sheets with protean charms.
"Here, take this paper. When I write something on my paper, the text will immediately appear on yours. Look!" I wrote on my "Communication check, this is HP." "Let me know through it your decision."
"And when will the whole paper be written?"
"Run your palm over it and you'll clear the paper for new entries."
"Can I write something on my piece of paper?"
"Of course you can."
There's some text on my sheet: "Communication check, this is D.G." I showed the page to Mr. Granger. He smiled in a tortured smile and erased the inscription.
The effect of magic permeated the Grangers, the distrust was slightly reduced.
"Oh, no, keep your hands in sight, please. If you go to Diagon Alley with Hogwarts' teacher, buy the book "The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts" from their bookstore. There's my official story. Read it, but only instead of "light wizard" and "dark wizard" read "power-hungry unprincipled bastard". I have a contingency plan in case Hermione goes to Hogwarts, but there's little hope for him. As soon as the bastards realize I'm protecting Hermione, they'll try to push me through it right away. It's going to be hard for me to protect her. I'm being hunted by two terrorist organizations, and I haven't gotten myself into action yet. I'll leave now, and you'll calm yourself down by being crazy. Maybe you should call the police. But then, when your teacher from Hogwarts comes to see you, you'll remember."
I got up from the chair.
"Walk me outside. Don't say anything to Hermione, Hogwarts will have a good mind reader. No, you go ahead. And you sit here, your husband will be right back."
Mr. Granger opened the door, we went out on the doorstep, and I went down the lane.
"Make the right choice, Mr. Granger."
"Will you be back again?"
"Not until I've destroyed all my enemies. It's going to take years. Until then, we can't be tied up. If I write, "I have good news for you", destroy the tie page," with those words, I put on a muggle repellent amulet and vanished into the night.
I have no choice but to spend the night in the nearest forest. I was hoping for a good outcome and a rest at the Grangers' house. We'll have to get a magic wand. With the Confundus spell, I can solve all my domestic and social problems in the Muggle world. The airy alley awaits me. It's dangerous when I'm ten years old without a wand to go to Knockturn Alley. Let my madness be called "Operation Incredible".