I'm just gonna leave this here...

While the whole mermaid situation was undeniably stressful for Hermione, being on her home turf made her considerably more comfortable. She could almost hear the voices of families sending their children off and smell the steam from the Hogwarts Express. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and turned to Lewis and Emma. "Believe me?"

"Yeah, yeah. I get it now, you're a witch. This is...weird but I can deal. Can you please tell me what's going on with Cleo and Rikki?" Emma asked, pressing her fingers to her temples.

"Cleo, Rikki, and Bella have all been taken by Denman's little henchmen. Although, I shouldn't call them 'little' since they are, in fact, quite large," she mused. "Anyway, you are the only one that can help them at this point."

"How is that? And can someone please explain to me who this 'Bella' is?!"

"Bella? You aren't friends then? I had assumed with her being a mermaid and all-"

"They replaced me with another mermaid?! Lewis, how could you?!" She whipped around to Lewis with pursed lips and a fire in her eyes.

Lewis, currently tracing the mortar of the solid brick wall they had traveled through turned to face Emma. "Hm?"

"Bella?" She spat at him.

"It-it's not-I mean we're not-I mean-"

"Spit it out, hey?"

"We would never replace you, Emma. That's impossible. We just...happened to meet another mermaid and we became friends. We weren't about to create another Charlotte.."

Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Alright, if you say so. Look, I'm still not okay with it but I can forget about it for now, I suppose," she turned back to Hermione. "I'm sorry for the interruption. Your plan?"

"Yes, well as I was saying, you are the only one who can help them. Did you catch what I said about the Ministry of Magic?"

"Magical government, yeah I got it," she answered folding her arms across her chest and raising a thin eyebrow. "What's it got to do with me?"

"Okay don't get too upset- Lewis tell her not to freak out," she said, her face pleading.

Lewis sighed. "You're not gonna like this, Em, but it's crazy enough to get us out of this mess."

"Shoot."

"The Ministry will protect the mermaids from Muggles- that is, normal, non-magical people- if there is a recorded existence of mermaids on file. Problem is, we don't have any information on your kind. To solve this, we need to do is take you down to the Ministry, have them look at you, draw up a sketch or two of your tail, and maybe get a scale sample. You can come back some other time for the interview for 'Being' status. Once all of that's over with we can hand over this problem to the Ministry and the whole thing will be fixed in no time. You're a mermaid, which is just what we need. And London is where the government building is located- the Wizarding World is a little archaic in that England still rules over most of its colonies."

"'Hand over this problem'?! I don't think you realize the complete and utter mess we are in right now!" Emma shrieked, throwing her hands in the air.

"Emma, I do, really," Hermione said as soothingly as possible. "You don't realize the things witches and wizards are capable of. Within hours, Rikki and Cleo will be in their possession and any Muggles involved in the debacle will have their memories erased. Easy enough. The only thing left to do is register you."

"I've spent the better part of three years trying to keep this secret. How am I supposed to trust you? It goes against everything I've ever known to do something like this!" She took a breath. "Lewis, tell her!"

"Emma, these aren't the sort of people to judge you, or dissect you, or put you in a zoo-"

"He's right," Hermione chimed in. "Why would people want to look at mermaids when we've got things like dragons and unicorns to entertain us."

Emma's brain was in complete turmoil. She liked to consider herself a woman of reason, a woman of science. It simply wasn't logical to turn herself over to the government. She had sacrificed so many things in the past three years determined to keep her tail a secret. But was it so bad to reveal herself on her own terms? She had made the decision to tell Ash and while it was was terrifying, it wasn't the same fear she felt when she thought of someone, say Elliot, finding out for himself. If she willingly gave the information, she had to gain some sort of power.

Emma's tight-lipped grimace slowly turned into a slight smile. "Okay," she sighed. "I'll do it."

The odd threesome managed, with a great deal of difficulty, to Side-Along Apparate into the Ministry of Magic.

A group of children that could not have been more than eight years old were being led through the magnificent building on a tour.

"Hermione Granger," one of them whispered.

"I have her Chocolate Frog card!"

"She's best friends with The Boy Who Lived-"

"I heard Harry Potter couldn't have killed You-Know-Who without her-"

"Do you think I could get her autograph?"

Lewis gave Hermione a very pointed look, to which she shrugged.

Emma, Hermione, and Lewis stepped into an empty elevator. As they slid the door shut, a child from the tour slipped in. She wore a deep blue combination of robes and uniform- typical of Wizarding public schools.

The girl tugged on Hermione's coattail saying, "'Scuse me, miss. Could I please have your autograph?"

Hermione looked down surprised. "I'm sorry sweetie, but I'm in a bit of trouble right now. Why don't we get you back to your teacher?"

"Not yet!" Her eyes met Hermione's then darted away to the floor as she continued in what seemed like one breath. "You see, my brothers are always telling me that I'm never gonna be as good at magic as them because I'm just a girl, but I know that's not true 'cause of you. I've read The Girl Behind The Boy That Lived loads of times and I know that the War wouldn't even be close to over without your help. You're my hero."

Hermione cracked a smile. "What's your name?"

"Rose," said shyly, rocking back on her heels. "I'm eight years old which means in just three years I'm going to go to Hogwarts and be a Gryffindor just like you," she said in another breath. She opened up her rucksack and pulled out a large textbook. "I heard Hogwarts: A History is your favorite, could you sign it for me?"

"Of course, Rose," Hermione said, kneeling down to her level. "Have you got a quill?"

The girl's eyes widened. "Oh no, I forgot one!"

"I've got a pen," Lewis offered, pulling the writing instrument out of one of his many cargo pockets.

Hermione smiled graciously and accepted it. She turned to the title page of what was, in fact, her favorite book, clicked the pen, and began to write.

Rose looked on in amazement. "What's that?"

"He's my Muggle friend," Hermione confessed conspiratorially. "Here you are!"

To Rose, the next brightest witch of our age

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She grinned.

"It's no problem," Hermione replied. "Now let's get you back to your class."

The elevator dinged and the foursome stepped out onto the 8th floor- the Department of Magical Beings. Hermione held Rose's hand so she didn't disappear for the second time that day.

As they made their way up to the receptionist's desk, the woman tending it jumped to her feet. "Ms. Granger!" she yelped. "It's a pleasure to have you back!"

"Hello again, Kimberly. I've gotten myself in quite a situation, do you think you could help?"

"Yes, of course what is it?" She dusted off her skirt, ready for business.

"This little one is Rose, and I'm afraid she's rather lost. And this one is Emma, she wants to register as a magical being."

"And who's that?" She asked, nodding at Lewis.

"He's just my Muggle friend along for the ride."

"The Statute of Secrecy?" she hissed.

"Oh sue me. Or just check Code 147 under the Statute. He's good to go," Hermione said, getting defensive. "Is Mrs. Bell free?"

"Yes, go right on in," she signed, resigned. "Shall I take Rose then?"

"Would you please? They may still be on the first level if you hurry."

She passed Rose's hand off to Kimberly, said her goodbyes, then lead her mermaid and Muggle down the hall to Mrs. Bell's desk.

"Mrs. Bell, I've got a friend here that would like to establish a Being Status. Sorry to interrupt, but it's rather urgent." The woman startled as Hermione spoke to her, so immersed in her paperwork she hadn't heard them approach. She was a middle-aged woman with hair so blonde it was almost white framing a round face.

"Of course, Hermione. Which friend?" She looked up with a friendly smile as she composed herself.

Hermione nudged Emma forward and introduced her.

"Alright, Emma. My name is Veronica Bell and I will be the one examining you today. If you could just follow me…" She stood and began leading the group, her short heels clicking on the reflective black floor, until they reached a door marked "Being Validification". "Right through here," she ushered them into a sterile-looking room that was in no way welcoming, but the woman nevertheless tried to make cheerful. The drab walls were papered with cheesy motivational posters that Hermione supposed could've made her smile if the situation were not so urgent. "Yes, yes, in we go." She motioned to the cold metal table. "Have a seat, if you will."

Although her eyes were worried, Emma set her jaw and hopped up onto the examining table in one confident motion. "What are you going to do to me?" she asked in as steady voice as she could muster.

"Well, we'll start with a series of questions," Mrs. Bell replied, the smile not leaving her face for an instant. "It might get boring," she said, turning to Hermione and Lewis who sat on an antique wooden bench, which although quite at home in the Wizarding World, was out-of-place in the room reminiscent of a Muggle doctor's office. "So I have a copy of today's Daily Prophet if you'd like. Or perhaps The Quibbler?"

"The Daily Prophet is alright, thank you," Hermione answered politely and Mrs. Bell reached into a drawer and pulled out the magical newspaper. Hermione accepted it and handed it to Lewis.

"The pictures move," he whispered excitedly as he pored over a story about Chinese Fireballs with plenty of photos.

Hermione nodded tolerantly but the slight upturn of her lips showed she was pleased that Lewis found trivial magical things so fascinating.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is he a Muggle?" Mrs. Bell asked, her smile getting dangerously close to becoming a mere straight face. "If I had known I'd-"

"It's fine," Hermione dismissed it with the wave of a hand. "He's with me, of course."

"Absolutely," Mrs. Bell blinked. "Who would I be to question Hermione Granger's judgement?" she said with a hint of reverence in her voice.

Lewis raised an eyebrow at Hermione, daring her to explain this time. She rolled her eyes and shook her head back at him.

The over the top grin returned to Mrs. Bell's face. "Shall we begin?" She started to prattle through a never-ending list of questions. Emma's answers were recorded by a charmed quill.

Hermione tried to pay attention but lost interest on the fifth question, "What is the precise measurement of water required to trigger the metamorphosis?", at which point Emma gave a tight-lipped "I don't know" and Hermione turned her attention to the poster ahead of her. It depicted a cartoon broom charmed to zip across the paper and was captioned "Don't just fly, SOAR". Lewis noticed her eyes move and his followed to the poster.

"Can you fly?" he murmured under his breath.

"Don't you mean 'soar'?" Hermione whispered sardonically.

Lewis playfully hit her shoulder.

"Fine," she bit her lip. "I could fly if I wanted to, but I don't," she paused. "Want to, that is." She took the newspaper out of Lewis's hands and removed one of the inner folds for herself before passing it back.

"Do you wish to share why everyone around here treats you like a celebrity?" Lewis prodded. You didn't have to be particularly observant to see the way that people in Hermione's strange world treated her. At first, he had thought that perhaps everyone in the magical community knew one another, but after noticing Mrs. Bell's borderline reverence of the girl, not to mention the request for an autograph, he began to question what was up.

"No," she breathed. "I," she squeezed her eyes shut but not before Lewis caught the pain reflected in them. "I don't wish to share." Her eyelids came up along with her gaze, pleading Lewis not to go further. Sometimes if he looked into Hermione's eyes, he saw much more than the troubles of an 19-year-old girl, and it frightened him.

"Oh god, I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you," Lewis began to panic, as his only experience with girls was the frequently hysterical Cleo.

"No, no it's fine, really. You couldn't have known not to ask," her strained face turned reassuring. "I mean honestly I didn't even realize I didn't want people asking until now. Usually it doesn't come up in conversation because all my friends are famous, too." She took a breath and composed herself. "I suppose I'll be getting these kinds of questions soon from the girls anyway. I'm a war hero, Lewis. And I'd really love to forget about it, but as you can see that's not happening anytime soon."

"Oh," Lewis squeaked out.

"And I realize I was kind of nonchalant about the whole thing back in Australia, but coming back here brings back a lot of memories that I'd prefer to keep buried."

They went back to sitting quietly, each reading their own section of The Daily Prophet. Mrs. Bell's insanely cheerful voice turned monotonous to their ears as she neared question twenty and Emma was getting no more pleasant in her responses. Hermione cursed herself for not keeping her notes on the mermaids on her at all times.

"Length of tail?" she asked almost giddily.

Hermione, sensing Emma's patience reaching its breaking point, interrupted. "Mrs. Bell?"

"Yes, dear?"

"For Merlin's sake, why don't you just measure it?" she said, as sweetly as possible. She knew the Ministry could clean up their mess, but they were running short on time.

"Brilliant, brilliant, yes we'll do just that!" She stood up from her stool. "Emma, if you could just move your legs up here," she patted the end of the table and Emma complied. "Yes, perfect. Now hold still. Aguamenti." A jet of water shot out of the tip of her wand, promptly hitting Emma in the face.

Emma, impatient before, was now seething as she flicked the water out of her eyes with her palms.

"Oh dear! Aim was never my strong suit. Ten seconds, you said?" She sang out a countdown, marvelling at the transformation that took place after one. "Beautiful, just beautiful."

A tape measure appeared and took Emma's measurements.