Disclaimer: I neither own nor make a profit from Harry Potter or Naruto.
Rating: T for the moment, may go up.
Spoilers: Everything for both Harry Potter and Naruto. There will be a lot of Naruto related spoilers. As for HP, there will be horcruxes.
Pairing: Eventual Hermione/Itachi
Timeline: Begins right after the end of the first Harry Potter book. Begins two years before the Uchiha massacre (which would make Naruto six, if you keep track of time that way)
Summary: Hermione's curiosity about precisely how Voldemort survived becoming disembodied leads to surprising places. And that changes everything. Or, Hermione is given an impossible task and Itachi makes a friend his family would not approve of.
Author's Note: I originally intended to make this story Hermione/Itachi, and I have ideas on how to do that. That said, I've wavered on the pairing but I think this will definitely be Hermione/Itachi
Secondly, I've certain theories on just why Hermione acts the way she does. Those will be explored within this story, along with the idea of family and family bonds.
Thirdly, no matter how they act, I just can't bring myself to believe that Homura, Koharu, and Danzo form some sort of axis of evil directly opposed to Sarutobi. Rather, I think Danzo is both patriotic and very power hungry and that his methods are simply horrific. As for the other two… no matter how nostalgic he is Sarutobi would never have allowed them to be his advisors without reason. They have to have redeeming qualities of some sort, though you may need to dig deep to find them.
Fourthly, about names… I know some of the characters have surprisingly Western names. This will be explained either over the next couple of chapters. I promise, it does make sense.
Chapter 1
Hermione tilted her head to the side as she considered the books before her. School had only let out a week before and already Hermione had finished her summer homework. The twelve year old let out a sigh. Since her family was to spend the summer in France she'd only one day to look around Diagon Alley before they left. They'd not be back until the end of August.
Laodice Granger had given Hermione twenty pounds to buy herself a birthday present before they left because she knew quite well her daughter would want to buy some books to read while on vacation. She looked through the section carefully, searching for a book on something to do with ghosts and spirits. Or perhaps possession. Most of the books didn't seem to contain much useful information at all. But finally, she found a text on the dead. Hermione could only hope it would prove useful, though she was rather sure it would not.
Ignoring the strange look the clerk gave her, Hermione bought the book and slipped out of the bookstore. Noting the amount of money she still had left, Hermione carefully considered where to go next.
With a sigh of annoyance, she pushed her wand back down. It had begun to slip out of the pocket of her skirt yet again. Perhaps she should see if there were wand holsters or something. Admittedly everybody she knew kept their wands in their pockets or bags or some other convenient spot, but there had to be a better way. That decided, she set off toward Ollivander's. Even if Mr. Ollivander did not carry something like that, surely he would know where to look.
Hermione paused at the door, looking to see if Ollivander was with a customer. Good, nobody was there buying a wand. The last thing she wanted was to make a customer rush-though she rather doubted anything or anyone could make Mr. Ollivander move any faster than he wanted.
Book in hand, Hermione stepped into the store. She glanced around, looking for Mr. Ollivander. He had to be in here somewhere-after all, the sign had said open. She fought the urge to jump when she realized he was next to her. How had Mr. Ollivander done that?
"Vinewood and dragon heartstring, 10 ¾ inches. Particularly suited for curses and wards. Is there a problem, Miss Granger?"
"No, Mr. Ollivander. My wand is working quite well."
"Then how may I help you?"
"I was wondering if you carry holsters for wands or something similar." Hermione bit her lip nervously. "I keep worrying that I'll drop my wand or loose it and I was hoping you would know of something which would help me."
"I've not had somebody ask me for a wand holster in well over a decade," admitted Mr. Ollivander. "Most Wizarding keep their wands in specially made pockets in their robes and holsters are provided as part of the Auror and Hitwizard uniforms." He paused, seemingly thinking. "I believe I might have something in the back which could work. Wait here."
With nothing better to do, Hermione sat down in the only chair. Upon realizing that Mr. Ollivander was not returning any time soon-after what felt like ten minutes of waiting-Hermione opened the book and began to page through it, skimming it for any useful information. The book, it seemed focused on history and characteristics of various creatures, such as inferi and dementors. It was not precisely what she had wanted, but it was certainly an interesting book.
Halfway through the chapter on poltergeists-that certainly did explain a lot about Peeves-Mr. Ollivander returned. Hermione slipped her receipt in to mark the page and closed the book.
"Here we go, Miss Granger," said Mr. Ollivander.
Hermione took the proffered item. It was certainly a holster of some sort. Carefully, she began to examine it, noting the shape. It was two long strips of leather sewn together with cut outs through the upper layer for something long and relatively thin to go through. Obviously the wand. There was a metal ring in each corner and one in the middle of each of the long sides. Along with the holster were roughly a dozen pieces of leather of various lengths with buckles on one end and holes on the other and a harness of some sort which looked to be adjustable.
She smiled up at Mr. Ollivander. "Thank you. This is exactly what I was looking for. How much does it cost?"
"Ten sickles for you, Miss Granger. Like I said, there's not much call for wand holsters. I'll throw in wood polish, leather polish, and cleaning rags for a full galleon."
"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander." She handed him a galleon.
He reached into a desk and pulled out two different bottled, a couple squares of cloth. Mr. Ollivander took the holster and straps from her hands and put them on the squares of cloth along with the bottles. With a few quick movements, Mr. Ollivander tied the cloths about the bottles and leather.
"There you are, Miss Granger. Do you have a basket?"
"Sorry. I didn't think I'd need one."
"It's no problem." He stared at her for several long moments before Hermione realized he was looking at her book. "May I ask what your interest in so advanced a book is? Certainly you should not be covering such information in class yet."
"I-" Hermione looked down. "I'm trying to figure out how a person could survive having their body destroyed. Or how a person could be possessed by a spirit. I'd thought this book would be more informative than it was, but… it doesn't seem to precisely cover what I'm looking for. Nevertheless, it is rather fascinating."
"You are Muggleborn, yes?"
"Yes. But what does that have to do with anything?" She was, she supposed, Muggleborn in every way that counted. Of course the entire label was something of a misnomer. But now was not the time to get into misleading semantics.
"Have you eaten lunch yet?" he asked.
"No. Not yet."
"This conversation could take a while, and I believe our time would be best served if we were to eat whilst speaking. The Leaky Cauldron serves excellent food. I will, of course, pay."
"I-alright. Thank you," Hermione said after a second of thought. Mr. Ollivander did not seem to be the sort to do something without reason. Perhaps he knew something about what she wanted to know.
Hermione stayed out of the way as Mr. Ollivander closed the shop and put an "out for lunch" sign in the window. She stepped outside as he locked the door, parcel and book held in her arms. Part of her worried that perhaps Mr. Ollivander intended something untoward, but she was well aware that if that were the case, it would not occur in a place as populated as the Leaky Cauldron.
The duo soon entered the Leaky Cauldron through the brick archway. Mr. Ollivander nodded toward Tom the barkeep. "We'll have two lunch specials and two butterbeers."
"It'll be right out, Orestes, miss."
"Thank you," said Hermione.
"We'll be in the back booth," explained Mr. Ollivander.
Orestes Ollivander? Hermione fought the urge to show a reaction to the name. Though she often claimed to be named for the character Hermione in A Winter's Tale, she was in fact named for the Greek Hermione, the daughter of Menelaus and Helen of Troy. It seemed that Mr. Ollivander was named for the son of Agamemnon, Menelaus's elder brother.
Hermione followed the elderly man to the back of the main room where a lone booth sat. It looked no different from other booths, a table and two bench seats with walls on three of the four sides. But Hermione noted that the booth to the left of it was next to the stairs and the booth to the right was rather close to the large communal table.
A moment after Mr. Ollivander sat down Hermione sat across from him. She put the objects in her arms on the seat between her and the wall. A moment later the barmaid brought over a tray with rolls, two bowls of beef stew and two mugs of butterbeer. She put them on the table along with spoons, gave Mr. Ollivander a small curtsy and left.
"There are some things, Miss Granger, which most Wizarding do not speak of. The information you were searching for is among that," explained Mr. Ollivander as he dug in to the stew.
"I didn't know."
"I know you didn't." Mr. Ollivander let out a sigh. "That which you were searching for is considered to be a branch of necromancy."
"That doesn't sound good."
"It's not, but you cannot be expected to know what you were never told."
"But what if you needed the information?" the twelve year old asked, having to come to the conclusion that Mr. Ollivander was somebody trying to help her.
He stilled. "Why do you need the information?"
"What if I were to say I saw a man possessed by the spirit of somebody who supposedly died ten years ago?"
"Why not go to the Aurors?"
Hermione looked down at her stew. She was not stupid by any means. What had happened at Hogwarts should have resulted in the Ministry's involvement in some way, but somehow Dumbledore had managed to keep the troll incident and Quirrel's death quiet.
"The Aurors are not an option."
"Then you, Miss Granger, have a problem. Necromancy is quite illegal and to even speak to a necromancer would be enough to get you imprisoned for quite a while."
"Oh." Hermione was silent for several long moments as she ate. "Perhaps, could you tell me why it's illegal?"
"To know why necromancy is illegal, one must first understand the history of the Wizarding," explained Mr. Ollivander. "The first true member of the Wizarding was the Amazon Queen Otrera. It is from her daughters that the Wizarding are descended. Otrera was the first person to use magic. In particular, she used magic revolving around life and death. From her use of magic in this matter came both the healing arts and necromancy."
"Professor Binns mentioned her, but he never actually explained that. He only really talked about how she ended the War."
"Of course. Because to do otherwise would be to soil Otrera, a woman more revered than Mab or Nimue or Merlin amongst the Wizarding. As the centuries passed healing and necromancy evolved and new magical arts were born. But one thing remained the same; healing and necromancy was the sole realm of women. Eventually this taboo was broken and men were permitted to learn necromancy and healing. It began in Rome, when Romulus learned necromancy and Remus learned healing at their mother's breast."
"I thought they were raised by a wolf…"
"According to the Muggles, yes. But she was in actuality a wolf animagus. There have always been those who abused the first arts, but it was not until wizards began to learn it that the arts radically changed. Originally, healing was more based on homeopathic cures combined with skills Muggles did not learn until the past millennia. Over the past several millennia, much of that has been lost or changed. Necromancy originally centered around helping spirits move on or allowing family to speak to their dead or dealing with demons and so on. Then came Baba Yaga and others of her ilk who perverted the art until things such as inferi, ghouls, and dementors were born.
"As you can guess, the Wizarding reacted badly to this and healing came to be greatly regulated while necromancy was banned outright." Ollivander took a swig of his butterbeer. "There are some who still practice the traditional arts, but they are few and far between. Of course these people are nearly impossible to find."
"Oh."
Hermione bit her lip. At least now she knew. But that did not change the fact that she was rather sure that Voldemort was not done with Harry. That he would come after Harry time and again until one of them was finally dead.
"Thank you for telling me this," Hermione said as she used her roll to clean the bottom of her bowl. "You were a big help. I never would have learned any of this without you."
Mr. Ollivander was silent for several long moments. Finally, he said, "Wait a moment. I believe I know of a book which could be of some help to you. Gwynafar's had a copy of it when last I checked."
"Gwynafar's?"
"Walk into Knockturn Alley. Make the second left. It will be the fourth shop on the right. If anybody there asks, tell them I sent you." Mr. Ollivander pulled out a piece of parchment and a piece of charcoal. He quickly wrote something down. "This is the title and author. It will be in either the arithmancy or the potions section. Wait." He pulled the parchment back and wrote a second name. "This book would be useful to you as well."
"I-thank you… but isn't Knockturn…"
"Bah. It may have quite a few questionable residents, but they're not going to allow paying customers to be harmed. Though you'd be best served to stay out of there once the sun sets. Some of the vampires can be a bit… uncivilized."
"Oh. I didn't know. I was just told to stay out of there because it was a black market the first time I came to Diagon."
"Ministry lackey. Obviously whoever told you thought that a shady place like Knockturn was a black market was very sheltered."
"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander." Hermione picked up her book and parcel and stood. "I should get going if I want to pick these books up before I need to head home."
"You're welcome, Miss Granger. If you have any further questions or want some advice on what books to read next, feel free to owl me."
"Of course. Thank you again. Have a good day."
"And a good day to you as well."
Hermione slipped back into Diagon Alley quickly. Somewhat nervous, Hermione walked purposefully, following Mr. Ollivander's directions. Hermione had travelled quite a bit and knew that those who did not seem confident could quite easily become a victim.
It was easy enough to find Gwynafar's Second Hand Books. Part of Hermione had to admit that she was a bit upset she'd let fear keep her from a bookstore. That she'd let fear keep her from knowledge.
When she entered, an elderly witch in pale robes took the time to look up at Hermione from behind the counter before returning to a rather thick book. With a mental shrug Hermione looked at her list and then went to the Potions sections. Most Potente Potions was easy to find, Runic Solutions for Modern Problems (as Hermione had translated the title from Latin to English) was slightly harder to find. In fact, it took her nearly an hour to find the book, tucked away on the bottom shelf of a bookcase in the Ancient Runes section.
After a moment's thought, she paged through Runic Solutions for Modern Problems. The text was too advanced for Hermione and she knew it. With a quick thought, she found a text on the meanings of runes and a text on how to make rune arrays. Then she picked up a beginners text on arithmancy.
"Did you find everything you were looking for?" asked the clerk when Hermione approached the counter.
"Yes, ma'am," said Hermione.
"One galleon, fourteen sickles, please."
Despite a mental wince, Hermione gave the woman the money she asked for. It seemed she was out of birthday money. Ah well. At least she'd have plenty to do while in France.
Most Potente Potions was by far one of the most fascinating potions texts she'd ever read-though she'd understood barely an eighth of it. And she could not help but think that Severus Snape, while a brilliant Potions Master, failed epically as a teacher. This belief had only been cemented by the potions texts which were "standard" at Beaubatons. She'd bought English translations of them whilst in Paris. She'd only read the first text so far, but she now found herself understanding far more about how potions were created and modified than ever before.
Runes made sense to Hermione. Particularly when she'd discovered that before wands, all wizards had used runes regularly. Each rune had a meaning, and when runes were combined into arrays, those runes created magic. It interested Hermione in ways most magic she knew did not. The book Mr. Ollivander had recommended actually had some very interesting magic in it and explanations on how to use rune arrays to fix various problems. There were some questionable sections which covered subjects such as how to capture and trap ghosts and autonomous spirits or exorcise places of ghosts which Hermione was rather sure qualified as necromancy-or at least bordered on this forbidden art.
Arithmancy was fascinating in ways she couldn't quite articulate. It gave magic sense and structure. Gave her a way of understanding magic that the theory she studied in transfiguration and charms never quite did. More often than not, she'd been frustrated in class because all the theory boiled down to concentration and will power were needed to make this spell or that spell work. Arithmancy was the mathematics of magic. Every spell, every rune array, every potion, could be explained and quantified by arithmancy. And not even halfway through that book on arithmancy, Hermione knew that no matter what, when she left Hogwarts, she wanted to do something involving arithmancy-perhaps even enter into an arithmancy apprenticeship and become a master arithmancer.
Hermione let out a sigh as she paged through her runic dictionary. She'd picked the book up right before they'd boarded a plane to Japan the day before. It was a fascinating book which told not only the meaning of the runes, but also their arithmantic equations and the spell components.
She looked out the window, noting the trees and rocks moving at a dizzying speed. Hermione looked back down. She got motion sick far too easily. Across from her sat Jack Granger, busily reading some scholarly text focusing on new discoveries, techniques, and procedures in dentistry. Next to her was Laodice, reading a thick romance novel written in Japanese.
Why they were Japan, Hermione did not know. But she had her suspicions. Two days prior, they'd received a phone call from somebody who was obviously Japanese-at least judging by the frantic Japanese Laodice had spoken to whoever was on the other side of the call. Hermione had been in a different room when the call had come, but she'd heard snatches of the conversation. Somebody was ill and not expected to survive.
Laodice rarely spoke about her family, for very obvious reasons, but there were some things Hermione had managed to learn over the years. Laodice's father, an Englishman had met her mother while visiting Japan to set up a branch of his family's business there shortly after the beginning of the Great Depression. They'd married at some point before Laodice's birth in early 1937. Hermione knew little else beyond that Laodice had attended very exclusive all girl's schools in Japan until she ran off to attend dental school in London. Hermione knew that Laodice still spoke to her maternal grandfather on occasion, but that she never spoke to or of her paternal family. Not that any same person would want anything to do with Laodice's paternal family, as Hermione knew far too well.
Following the phone call, there had been a flurry of activity. The next thing she knew, they'd been on a plane from Paris to Tokyo. After a night in a hotel in Tokyo, they'd taken one train, and then a second. In all honesty, Hermione was not sure where they were headed, beyond as far into the mountains as possible.
"Honey, we're getting off at the next station," said Laodice. "You should pack up and get your things together."
"Yes'm," said Hermione.
She put her book in her backpack along with Runic Solutions for Modern Problems before packing everything else away in her suitcase. By the time the train came to a stop, about twenty minutes later, the three of them were ready to get off the train. At the station, Hermione glanced around. It was a small village built in a valley surrounded by mountains on all sides. But it was four or five times larger than Hogsmeade. Then again, Hogsmeade had a population of fifteen hundred. While that was nearly a third of the Wizarding population in the U.K., it was rather small in comparison to Muggles.
Laodice all but ran toward a woman in her forties or so, dressed in a dark blue kimono with a pattern of waves and rocks at the bottom. They hugged and then began to speak softly in Japanese. Unfortunately, Hermione was not quite close enough to hear. She hesitantly followed her father to the woman she now realized she'd seen in her parent's wedding photos. If Hermione remembered correctly, she'd been the only person from Laodice's side of the family other than Laodice's maternal grandfather to attend.
"Hermione, come here," called out her mother. In Japanese, she continued, "Andy-chan, this is my daughter, Hermione. Hermione, this is my younger sister Andromache."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, even under such trying circumstances," said Andromache. "I've heard all about you. You may call me Andy-basan. It is good to see you as well, Jack-niisan."
"A pleasure to meet you as well," Hermione said in Japanese. She'd learned the language-both spoken and written-at her mother's knee.
"The doctors say that Kaasan is not doing well," said Adromache. "My husband is with the car. Matsuo suggested that he drop you, Hermione-chan and me off at the hospital while he and you husband take your bags back to our home."
"Thank you. That would be very good."
Unsurely, Hermione curled up in a chair by the window as her mother and aunt busied themselves fussing over the elderly woman in the bed. She seemed to be one of two patients in the small clinic. The nearest hospital was well over two hours away and the woman-her grandmother Megumi-was just too weak to make the trip there. Hermione just wasn't sure what to do with this strange woman she'd never met before, even if she was her grandmother. So instead she pulled out her books to continue her reading.
Twenty minutes later, Laodice was quietly grilling the poor doctor while Andromache stood behind her with silent support, leaving Hermione alone with Megumi. She bit her lip and edged her chair a bit closer to the bed, feeling a bit guilty about all but ignoring the woman.
"Hermione-chan, you go to Hogwarts, yes?" said Megumi, her attention having been caught by Hermione's movements.
"Yes. I just finished my first year," she replied in Japanese, knowing on an intellectual level that Megumi had to know some English-her husband had been English after all-but unwilling to speak in a language she'd not heard the woman use, on the off chance that she didn't know it after all.
"What house are you in?"
"Gryffindor."
Megumi gave her a knowing smile. "What house did that hat originally want to put you in?"
"My friends think it was Ravenclaw."
"But…"
"The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Hufflepuff," she admitted quietly.
"From the house of loyalty and hard work to the house of bravery and chivalry. Do you think you made the right choice?"
Hermione looked down, uncomfortable with the questions being asked. Finally, she said, "If not for being a Gryffindor, I never would have become friends with Harry and Ron. They may make stupid choices and get into all sorts of trouble, but I wouldn't give them up for anything."
"Good. I've known many who attended Hogwarts, and most cannot say the same as you," said Megumi. "What is your class standing?"
"I'm first in all classes but potions. Professor Snape-the potions professor-and I don't exactly… get along well."
"I learned through an apprenticeship, not one of the magical academies," she said. "But your grandfather attended Hogwarts-he was a Slytherin, I believe. He was neither the best nor the worst student. Unfortunately, my children never had the chance to attend Hogwarts or enter into an apprenticeship."
"Because they were all squibs," Hermione said softly.
It wasn't something most Wizarding liked to admit, but all Muggleborns were descended from Squibs. Unfortunately, very few Squibs survived long enough to reproduce-if they were even capable of reproduction. Another thing that wasn't spoken of in polite company was how most families had any squibs born sterilized-if they were permitted to live long enough to go through puberty, that is.
"I had four children-three daughters and one son," Megumi said. "Laodice left the country and refuses to acknowledge her family unless it's an emergency. Andromache ignores everything magical, preferring to play the part of perfect homemaker. My third daughter lies buried up in these mountains. You're named for her, you know. My Hermione-chan was special; she would have gone to Hogwarts, had she not died."
"I didn't know. I'm sorry."
"No, it's alright. Of course you didn't know." Megumi let out a sigh. "My boy was always very close to Hermione-chan. They were twins, you know. They did everything together. Do you like runes?"
"Yes," Hermione admitted. "I love them. But I like arithmancy better. It makes so much sense. I just can't get enough of it."
"I didn't know they taught either subject to first years."
"They don't. It's… some independent studying I've been doing. I already finished all my summer homework and I wanted to do something until school starts again next month. They don't offer classes on Ancient Runes and Arithmancy until third year."
"That's an ambitious project. May I see that book?"
Hermione carefully handed her Runic Solutions for Modern Problems. Megumi seemed to read through the preface before turning to where she'd put her bookmark. The only reaction Megumi had to the somewhat illegal subject matter was the raising of an eyebrow.
"May I ask why you feel the need to learn such things?"
"It's… interesting."
"And?"
"It's a long story."
"I do believe I have nothing else to do. Please, enlighten me."
"I-I met a man. He was sharing his body with a man who supposedly died a decade ago. When the living man died, the spirit left, but it obviously still existed."
"How were they sharing a body?"
"I-I didn't see it myself, but my friend said the spirit took the form of a face on the back of the man's head."
"What else did this spirit do?"
"I know it and the man it possessed drank the blood of a couple unicorns to extend their… existence. They were looking for the Philosopher's Stone. My friend supposedly killed the man the spirit used to be a decade ago, but nobody knows how that happened. And when my friend touched the possessed man, he seemed to burn his skin. That burning was the only reason my friend survived. The possessed man ended up dying and the spirit ran-floated?-off somewhere."
What Megumi would have said, Hermione did not have a chance to find out. It was then that Laodice and Andromache returned to the room. Hermione accepted the book when Megumi handed it back to her.
"Kaasan, we're going to go for the night. We'll be back in the morning," said Laodice.
"Of course. Please, bring Hermione-chan with you. I would like to get to know my granddaughter better."
Hermione brought a set of cards along with some books the next day. Using a rolling table between them, Hermione and Megumi whiled the morning away playing rummy, building a card house-which underwent catastrophic failure when it was five stories high-and with Megumi teaching Hermione how to play poker. All the while Laodice and Andromache spoke quietly and searched through medical texts borrowed from a library. As an oral surgeon, Laodice had quite a bit of medical training, after all.
Around noon, Hermione's stomach growled, which seemed to set off some signal with the others in the room. Carefully, using napkins as bookmarks, Laodice began to close books while Andromache started to gather their things together.
"Hermione, pack up your things. We'll return to visit in a couple hours," ordered Laodice.
"Why the rush, Lao-chan?" asked Megumi. "Hermione-chan can spend the afternoon with me. I'd enjoy the company."
Laodice paused. "Hermione, you can stay if you want. Andy-chan and I are just going to have lunch before I take a train out so that I can continue my research at the hospital two valleys over. Jack's already at the hospital library. And Andy-chan is going grocery shopping and start on dinner."
"I-I'll stay if it's not too much trouble."
"Of course not," said Andromache. "Do you remember where my home is?"
"Yes Andy-basan."
"Good. Dinner will be at seven. Just get to the house before then."
"Alright."
"Here," Laodice gave her some money. "Why don't you get yourself lunch and then come back here. You can leave your things-so long as they're out of the way."
"Thank you."
Hermione put her backpack in one of the chairs along with the deck of cards. After a quick set of goodbyes, she left the clinic and went a block over where she bought herself a simple bento and a can of soda for lunch. Once done she returned to the clinic.
"I'm back, Baasan," said Hermione as she entered the room.
"Good," said Megumi. "Please, pull up a chair. We should talk."
"About what?" Hermione asked hesitantly.
"We need to talk about your… unusual interests."
"Baasan-"
"Sit down."
Hermione did as ordered.
"The day my Hermione-chan-your namesake-died, I left the Wizarding entirely. It was difficult. I was a pureblood who had been sheltered first by my clan, and then by my husband and his family, but it was the right choice. My father may have allowed me to attempt to support myself, but he did not allow my break from the clan stop him from providing for Andy-chan and Lao-chan's schooling.
"I've done my best to have nothing to do with the Wizarding over the past forty years. But I still hear things. Your friend Harry Potter-was he telling the truth about Voldemort being a spirit?"
"Yes. Harry would never lie about such a thing."
"I would suggest you keep your interests quiet-even from your friends-unless you've no other choice. It could have devastating consequences."
"I'm well aware of that."
"Good," said Megumi. "My son, I've seen him only once since he ran away as a child. He never forgave my husband for permitting his twin to die when he was away and I cannot blame him for feeling that way. I've little doubt he puts some of the blame quite rightfully with me, as well. Now I'm going to offer you a choice, and I want you to think carefully about which option you take."
"Baasan, why did you tell me all that?"
"Because, you needed to know that before you chose. You have two options. The first is that I will tell several possible methods which I believe this Voldemort could have used to survive, and how to kill or contain him, depending upon the method. And you will no longer search through books and scrolls for knowledge which is forbidden for good reason."
"You're a-you're a-"
"In my youth, I was both necromancer and healer, yes. But those days are long behind me." Megumi let out a sigh. "The second option is that I will give you the tools and knowledge you need to figure this out, along with my suspicions. But first you must do one task for me."
"What task is that?" asked Hermione.
"Find my son and convince him to come visit me. I'm not long for this world and I would like to see Jiraiya once more before I die. But I advise you to think long and hard about whether or not to accept this task-it's an incredibly dangerous undertaking."