Semper Fidelis

Chapter 1.2

"Mum? Mum? Are you there?" James waved a hand in front of his mother's face, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Hermione pulled herself back from her memories and concentrated on her son. This tall, gangly, ten year old (sorry, ten-and-three-quarter year old) who is the spitting image of her aside from his hair and whom she loved more than her own life would have never been borne to the world if she had not received that letter. And now, looking at the parchment in her hands which displayed his name, it was his turn.

She flashed her son the biggest smile she could muster and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. "I am so proud of you! I knew you would get your letter!" She laughed as James tried to wiggle from her hug exclaiming his need to breathe.

"I am so excited! I can't wait to learn more magic! I wonder what House I'll be sorted in... When can we get my school robes? And my wand? What kind of pet should we get? Maybe an owl? When are we going to.. to... what is that place called again?" He asked in one breath as he was released from the hug. Leave it to her son to have so many question, Hermione thought. She placed both hands on his shoulders and bent down to look at him.

"'That place' is called Diagon Alley and it is in the magical district of London. We can go there this weekend IF you finish all your homework and readings. Speaking of homework, shouldn't you be doing yours right now?" She said sternly. She tried not to smile as her son immediately groaned.

"But Mum! I won't need to go to a... Muggle school after this year! My Muggle homework won't matter!" He protested, testing out the new term he had recently learned.

Hermione gasped and sprang from her chair, looking down at her son. "Daniel James! No son of mine will say such ridiculous things! You are still in a Muggle school so you will do your Muggle homework until you are done with said school. In fact, you will do ALL your homework, Muggle or not. Is that understood?" She chastised.

James pouted and hung his head. "Yes, Mother," he conceded.

Hermione scoffed and bent down, pulling him into another hug. "Why don't you run along and do some of your readings now? That way you'll have less to do for the weekend."

James immediately perked up and gave his mum a dazzling smile. "That is a great idea! I'll do that now. Maybe I can finish The Outsiders today. Thanks Mum!" He gave her a peck on the cheek and ran out of her study room in the same manner that he came in.

As James left so did all the energy in the room and Hermione sank back down into her chair. She removed her reading glasses and rubbed her face. There was no stopping it now. She knew, from the moment he unknowingly levitated a glass from the top of their kitchen cupboards last summer, that she could no longer hide her history from her boy. She tried so hard to shield him from it all and had grown hopeful that perhaps he'd be able to lead a Muggle life when he showed no signs of being magical during his first nine years. But, as fate would have it, the magic that coursed through his veins was simply too powerful.

Hermione sighed and flicked a switch disguised as an embossed feather at the side of her desk. A hidden compartment popped open and inside there laid a slender piece of wood, about ten inches long, and a picture frame. The wooden object was light brown in colour with intricate carvings on the hilt and narrowed at the end. It was a wand; her wand. It's an item she hid for years following the birth of her son and went unused until James, nine years later, revealed his own magic.

She traced a finger down her wand until her hand grazed the side of the picture frame. It was a simple frame, silver in colour, displaying one unmoving picture captured when times were still so simple. She was given a roll camera by her parents the Christmas of her first year at Hogwarts which she brought back to school. All the non-Muggleborns of her house were fascinated by the contraption and insisted they had a turn with the camera. She obliged, and one of them captured a picture of her with her best friend seated together on the common room couch by the fire.

Hermione picked up the frame and beheld the picture. She looked at the smiling figures drowning in their oversized robes. They were so young, so innocent. Who knew that these two eleven year olds would grow up to witness and partake in terrible and great things?

She placed the picture frame back into the compartment and grabbed her wand. There's no use keeping it locked away when James was now aware of her magic. As his mother, it is her duty to prepare him as best as she could for whatever future has in store. And if this means introducing him to the world she ran away from, then so be it.

But Hermione can't bring herself to tell him the full story just yet. And so, with one last look at the picture frame, she waved her wand and casted a strong Colloportus. The compartment went back to its hiding place and locked, taking with it the reason she left everything behind eleven years ago.