The Granger parents had never imagined, in their most fanciful daydreams, that they would one day find themselves as guests in a wizard's home—especially when that wizard happened to be their daughter's professor.
The very concept seemed to belong to the land of fairy tales rather than their orderly, scientific lives as dentists in suburban London.
Initially, their nervousness had been obvious. Mrs. Granger had fidgeted with her whimsical hat, while Mr. Granger had kept glancing around the shop as if expecting something to explode or transform without warning.
However, after about an hour of gentle conversation, attentive hospitality, and Dobby's exceptional tea service, their shoulders had relaxed and their smiles had become genuine rather than politely forced.
Wizards really weren't that different from normal people, except for that glowing little stick—everything else was quite ordinary.
And just as their beloved daughter had said, Professor Westeros was a very kind person—that was certainly true.
During their visits to Diagon Alley, they had endured the curious stares and condescension of wizards who looked at them as fascinating specimens rather than fellow human beings. Some had spoken about them in their presence as if they couldn't understand plain English, while others had asked intrusive questions about "Muggle life" with the kind of anthropological interest usually reserved for studying exotic animals.
"Ah, Mr. Granger," Adrian said suddenly, his voice taking on a tone of mild curiosity as he reached toward a nearby shelf.
His fingers closed around what appeared to be a wand, but one unlike any Harry had seen before—its wood was a deep red color. "I wonder if you might assist me with a small experiment?"
Mr. Granger, who had been in the process of reaching for his teacup, paused with his hand suspended in mid-air. His scientific training had taught him to be intrigued rather than alarmed by the word "experiment," and his expression shifted to one of eager curiosity.
"Of course," He said, setting his cup down and rising from his seat. "What sort of assistance do you require?"
Adrian's smile held a hint of mischief that reminded Harry strongly of the Weasley twins when they were planning something particularly spectacular. He extended the red wand toward Mr. Granger.
"I'd like you to hold this, if you would."
Mr. Granger accepted the wand with the respect of someone handling a priceless artifact. The moment his fingers closed around the wood, his eyes widened with surprise. "Oh! It's warm,"
He said, his voice filled with wonder. "Not uncomfortably so, but there's definitely heat radiating from it. What exactly is this?"
"A wand," Adrian replied simply, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.
"A wand!?"
Mr. Granger was startled. He naturally knew what a wand meant—he had tried waving his daughter's little stick before, but had never successfully made anything fly.
"Try waving it," Adrian encouraged.
"Is... is this really, okay?" Mr. Granger seemed nervous. "I mean, Muggles can't..."
"While that's generally true," Adrian interrupted gently, "this particular situation is somewhat different. You see, this isn't about you actually channeling magic. Magic typically requires both innate magical ability and knowledge of proper incantations. However, what I'm asking you to do is much simpler."
He paused, his smile becoming more encouraging. "All I need you to do is give it a small wave. Trust me—this will be an experience you'll remember for the rest of your life."
Mr. Granger looked down at the wand in his hand, then back at Adrian's expectant face, and finally over at his daughter, who was practically vibrating with excitement on the edge of her seat.
Taking a deep breath that seemed to summon all his courage, he gave his wrist the smallest, most cautious flick imaginable.
The result was spectacular.
The tip of the wand erupted with a ball of orange-red flame that shot toward the ceiling like a miniature comet, trailing sparks and filling the air with the sharp scent of magic and burnt air.
The fireball struck the ceiling with a soft thump, bounced off the charmed surface like a rubber ball, and arced gracefully downward to land with accuracy on the curtains hanging behind the sofa.
The curtains caught fire instantly.
Harry's training kicked in before his conscious mind had fully processed what was happening. His wand appeared in his hand as if summoned by pure instinct, and he pointed it at the blazing curtains.
"Aguamenti!" He called out.
A powerful stream of crystal-clear water burst from his wand tip, striking the flames with precision. The fire hissed and steamed as it was extinguished, leaving behind only a wisp of grayish smoke and the pungent smell of wet, charred cloth.
"I... I'm terribly sorry." Mr. Granger looked at the scene with a pale face, his hands still trembling, as if he had nearly caused a fire.
Rather than showing any sign of anger or concern, Adrian began to chuckle. "Actually, Mr. Granger, that was excellent work. And Harry, your response time and spell accuracy were superb. Both of you performed exactly as I had hoped."
Hermione immediately jumped down from the sofa and ran to Mr. Granger's side, asking excitedly. "Daddy, did you successfully use magic?"
Mr. Granger nodded slowly, still somewhat dazed by the experience.
"Indeed, Mr. Granger did successfully release that fireball," Adrian confirmed, turning to explain to Hermione. "However, I should clarify that this wasn't a traditional fire spell. What you witnessed was a unique property of this particular wand—it contains stored magical energy that can be triggered even by individuals without natural magical ability."
Upon hearing this, Hermione turned her attention to the deep red wand.
This wand wasn't much different from ordinary ones, except its color was somewhat strange—so strange that she couldn't recognize what material it was made from.
"It's made from what I call special flame wood," Adrian seemed to read Hermione's thoughts. "The core is a mixture of fire salamander mane and phoenix tail feather. This combination allows the magical power within the flame wood to be released as flames, even triggering for people without magical talent. The only drawback is..."
"Instability," He finished, just as the wand began to vibrate violently in Mr. Granger's startled grasp.
Before anyone could react, it shot from Mr. Granger's hands like a rocket, soaring up toward the ceiling where it exploded in a bright crimson and gold sparks. The explosion was beautiful rather than destructive more like an indoor fireworks show than a dangerous magical accident but the countless tiny sparks now drifting through the air like luminous snow created a totally new problem.
Harry raised his wand instinctively, but then hesitated, his arm was frozen in mid-gesture. His mind raced through every spell he knew, searching for something that might contain or extinguish the magical sparks, but came up empty.
Under the fascinated gazes of everyone present, Adrian simply raised one hand in a gesture. Immediately, the drifting sparks stopped their lazy fall and hung suspended in the air as if time itself had been paused.
Then, Adrian began to guide the sparks with gentle gestures of his fingers. The points of light responded like a trained orchestra, swirling and merging. Gradually, they formed the shape of a small, ethereal fire salamander that glowed with warm, friendly light.
Mr. Granger, drawn by wonder that overcame any lingering nervousness, slowly extended his hand toward the magical creation. The fire salamander immediately swam over with obvious delight, circling his finger in spirals that generated a pleasant, comforting warmth without any trace of burning heat.
"Amazing..." he marveled.
Adrian nodded with satisfaction. As the first wand he had crafted, this was already quite good.
Moreover, this wasn't an ordinary wand—the wood material came from his mutated flame tree, and it was the flame tree that gave it this special ability.
The fire salamander didn't last long before disappearing into the air. Mr. Granger looked at the small flames remaining in the air, somewhat lost in thought.
As the golden light of late afternoon began to deepen into the color of early evening, the Granger parents found themselves reluctantly preparing to end what had been the most extraordinary day of their lives.
Mr. Granger stood near the shop's entrance, his borrowed wizard robes now properly fitted thanks to Adrian's tailoring charm, but his expression carried the unmistakable regret of someone leaving a wonderful party too early.
"Thank you for your incredible hospitality, Professor Westeros," He said with genuine warmth, though his voice had a tone of nostalgia. "We would love to stay longer, but unfortunately, we both have early appointments tomorrow morning."
"What sort of work do you both do?" Adrian asked with polite interest.
"We're dentists," Mr. Granger replied with a slight smile. "Both Jean and I have our own practice in London. We specialize in family dentistry, with a particular focus on pediatric care."
"Fascinating profession," Adrian nodded thoughtfully. "Though I'm afraid it's rather unfortunate that wizards have little need for dental services. Our magical constitution prevents cavities from forming, and any cosmetic adjustments can be accomplished with a simple charm."
Mr. Granger's eyes immediately shifted to his daughter with a knowing look that made Hermione's cheeks begin to flush pink.
"Ah, I see. Hermione never mentioned that. So, if she ever wanted to adjust her teeth, it would be a simple matter of waving a wand, wouldn't it? No wonder she never wanted us to touch her front teeth."
"Daddy!" Hermione huffed indignantly, her face reddening.
She absolutely did not care about her slightly protruding front teeth... well, perhaps occasionally she noticed them in mirrors or photographs, and maybe sometimes she wondered what she might look like with a more conventional smile, but that was completely beside the point.
The last thing she wanted was to have her physical insecurities discussed in front of Harry and Professor Westeros as if she weren't standing right there.
"Alright, alright, I was being presumptuous," Mr. Granger said with a fond chuckle. "You're absolutely perfect exactly as you are, sweetheart. I was simply curious about the magical alternatives to conventional treatments."
He glanced at his watch and his expression grew more serious. "Oh dear, it really is getting quite late. Jean, we should be heading back soon if we want to avoid the worst of the London traffic."
Turning back to Adrian, he extended his hand for a final handshake. "Thank you again, Professor Westeros. This has been an absolutely magical day—quite literally. We're leaving Hermione in your hands for the remainder of her stay."
"It will be my pleasure to have her here," Adrian assured him with a slight bow of his head.
Mrs. Granger stepped forward to fuss over her daughter's appearance, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from Hermione's robes and adjusting her collar with the automatic movements of a mother who had been performing such small acts of care for nearly fifteen years.
"Remember to write to us regularly, dear," She instructed, her voice filled with maternal concern. "And please don't stay up all night reading—I know how you get when you find an interesting book, but you need proper sleep to learn effectively."
"I know, Mum," Hermione replied with the long-suffering patience of a teenager who had heard these warnings countless times before. "I promise I'll be sensible."
"And eat proper meals," Mrs. Granger continued, unable to help herself. "Don't just survive on tea and biscuits because you're too absorbed in your studies to notice you're hungry."
"Jeam," Mr. Granger said gently, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder. "She'll be fine. Professor Westeros clearly takes excellent care of his guests, and Hermione is quite capable of looking after herself."
The Granger parents left Privet Drive before nightfall.
Hermione returned to the shop and lay on the sofa with Harry.
"I honestly can't believe they agreed to let me stay here," She said, swinging her feet with childlike enthusiasm. I thought they would insist I come home for summer vacation."
Harry, with the mandrake leaf in his mouth, made an unclear sound of agreement.
Adrian recast the Muggle-Repelling Charm and told Hermione as he entered. "Your room is on the second floor, first door to the right. My room is to the left. I've already had Dobby tidy it up."
"Dobby?" Hermione seemed puzzled. "The house-elf from just now?"
"Yes, he'll take care of your daily needs," Adrian said.
This was the benefit of having a house-elf.
________________
You can read more chapters on:
/IamLuis