semper fidelis (adjective)
always faithful

Chapter 1

"MUM! MUM! Look what I got in the mail!" An exuberant, black-haired boy of about ten years of age cried as he ran into his mother's study room. He nearly tripped over the rug that lined the hallway before finally skidding to a halt in front of her large desk. James had never felt more excited before. Finally, finally, after months of waiting anxiously, what he was waiting for was finally here!

"Be careful love, you don't want to hurt yourself," his mother said, raising her head from behind the stack of books piled high on the oaken desk peppered with feather carvings. She wiped a stray curl that escaped from her ponytail away from her face and looked at her son. "What do you have there baby?"

James rounded the desk and stood beaming in front of his mother. "Muuum, I told you not to call me "baby" anymore! I'm ten and three quarters!" He replied and shot her a toothy grin.

His mother laughed and ruffled his hair. She could see the mischief twinkling in his chocolate brown eyes as he exchanged familiar banter with her. It's true - he was no longer a "baby" in the literal sense of the word, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. He was growing up so fast and already she could see that the clothes she bought him not two months ago were in the process of being outgrown. He's nearly to her chin, could eat triple her usual serving during meals, and had the energy that could rival that of a Tasmanian devil. Yes - he was no longer a baby but he would always be her baby.

"What do you have there, then?" she asked. She could see the excitement radiating from his body and the grin not leaving his face. Whatever it was, he couldn't hold it in any longer.

"I got my letter! My Hogwarts letter!" He all but screamed as he shoved a familiar piece of parchment into her hands.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She looked at the letter which was marked clearly with the all too familiar crest of her alma mater. A badger, a snake, a raven, and a lion were displayed on all their glory on each quadrant of the crest surrounding a very prominent H. The words "Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus" were written in flowing script underneath the insignia. 'Never tickle a sleeping dragon,' Hermione thought as she was momentarily taken back to when she received her own letter those many years ago.

She remembered that day clearly. It was the first day back from Easter holidays of her Year 6 of school. She had been teased mercilessly by the kids in her class, them making jokes about her "rabbit teeth" and bushy mane saying she was not unlike the Easter Bunny. They were so cruel that she went home crying.

But when she stepped into her house and saw the pile of letters behind the door, her sadness was immediately replaced by her natural curiosity. There was this odd little envelope made of stained parchment paper that was addressed to a "Ms. Hermione Jane Granger. The East-Facing Bedroom at the Top of the Stairs." With the tears drying on her cheeks and brows furrowed in question, she ripped open the envelope to find her enrolment letter to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She read the contents and almost crumpled it up, thinking it was an elaborate joke pulled by one of her classmates. She couldn't bring herself to ruin the letter however, so she folded it neatly and placed it back into its envelope to show her parents over supper. She had to hand it to whichever classmate created the letter though - it was well crafted (almost too elaborate for one of her classmates to accomplish, but she pushed that thought aside) and she had wanted to believe it was true despite the fact that there was obviously no such thing as magic.

How wrong she was, for over potatoes and roast and after showing her parents the letter (which they all had a good laugh over), the doorbell rang. The Grangers shared a questioning look for they weren't expecting anyone. Dan Granger, Hermione's father, excused himself from the table to answer the door. Ellie Granger, Hermione's mother, and Hermione craned their necks from the dining table to see who was behind the door.

Hermione remembered first seeing a pointy, wide-brimmed hat of jet black and another of an emerald green when the door opened. The next she noticed were their garb: the man had a midnight blue cloak with stars and crescent moons that seemed to sparkle as the fabric shifted while the lady wore velveteen green robes. The man was old, his snowy white beard spilling over the front of his shirt and he had half-moon spectacles perched atop his sharp nose. Behind them she could see twinkling blue eyes. The lady looked severe, her chin at a sharp angle and her hair in a tight bun beneath her hat, yet her eyes were gentle as she looked past her father and straight into her.

"Good evening, Mr. Granger. I know our visit came at a surprise but we hope we are not intruding. I am Albus Dumbledore and this is Professor McGonagall. I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and we'd like to speak to you about your very special daughter, Hermione." The man, Albus Dumbledore, said in a soft voice. Hermione heard herself gasp as his words drifted to her ears. The man looked at her and gave her a smile, and Hermione knew her life would be forever changed.

"Mum? Mum? Are you there?" James waved a hand in front of his mother's face and broke 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 was the spitting image of her aside from his hair and whom she loved more than her own life would have never been born 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 would 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 was 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 was no use keeping it locked away when James was now aware of her magic. As his mother, it was her duty to prepare him as best as she could for whatever future has in store. And if this meant introducing him to the world she ran away from, then so be it.

But Hermione couldn'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.