A one-shot on the same time line as Another Muggle at Hogwarts.

Hermione Granger, teen wizardess and the most beautiful girl in her year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sat at an outside table at a muggle ice cream parlor. She was very angry. She tried to tell herself she was angry at Harry or Ginny. But she knew the truth; she was angry with herself. She wanted him, more than she wanted anything in the world. But Harry had been going steady with Ginny for months. She had decided to bring out the heavy artillery.

Her sixth year at school was about to start and she had asked Harry to meet her at Diagon Ally to shop for school supplies. She had taken a room at the Leaky Cauldron and invited Harry to share it with her. She had packed for seduction. While Harry waited in their bedroom she had gone into the private bath, (It was one of the more expensive rooms but with two dentists in the family money was not a problem.) to change.

When she came out she was dressed in a most alluring outfit. She didn’t tease, but delayed just enough to arouse his passion. It was her first sexual experience. It was fun and when it was over Harry said he loved her and would break up with Ginny.

But the more she thought about it the less she liked it. She had squandered her first time on manipulating him into choosing her. And even thou Harry had said he was all hers she doubted he would really leave Ginny.

She wasn’t going to cry. She would not give in. She would not loose control. But it wasn’t easy.

Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw somebody in a wizard’s robe. What on Earth would anybody be doing out among muggles dressed like that? But when she looked straight on she saw it was a long coat with a flair bottom that only looked like a robe. The man was rather tall, easily six feet. Wisps of golden blond hair escaped from his black Stetson hat which shaded his sky blue eyes. But his face was remarkably young. He didn’t even look eighteen. And the more she looked, the more it seemed she had seen him before, perhaps even met him.

The stranger looked up and saw her looking at him; she looked away. She wasn’t going to be rude and stare at somebody she didn’t know. She had enough to worry about. Harry... Ginny...

“Beg pardon, ma’am.” said a soft western drawl. She looked up. It was the stranger lifting the brim of his hat with thumb and forefinger. What was he doing talking to her?

“Yes?” She tried to sound casual.

“Uh, is there anything Ah can do for you, ma’am?”

How strange he was acting. He must be an American. She had always heard they didn’t know how to act properly. “Um, no. Err, why?”

“Well, it’s just that you looked so sad. Ah was hoping Ah could cheer you up somehow.”

“Well, thank you. But it’s really nothing. I just have some problems is all.”

He continued to look at her. His face had the unmistakable look of sympathy, of compassion. She considered the unthinkable, telling her troubles to this total stranger. It must have shown on her face because he gestured toward the chair next to her with a questioning look. He had a somber smile that said what ever was hurting her hurt him as well.

“Well, there’s this boy you see.” He nodded as if he already knew what her problem was and it was an old story to him. “I’ve been interested in him for some time but he’s going with some one else.” He wasn’t even nodding now, but his eyes looked like he was listening. “So I, so I,... I gave my all.” was all she could say.

He looked now like he was witness to a tragedy. Apparently he put a high premium on such things. “The sad part is, I’m not sure he’s going to leave her after all.” His sad little smile said it was nothing new, that it happened every day to many women. He didn’t seem in any great hurry to speak so she asked him, “Well, any advice.”

His lips clenched to say what advice he did have would not be all that welcome. “Just one piece, and it’s in the form a question.” She nodded. “Would any boy who could be gotten that way be worth having?”

Hermione nodded agreeing with him. She couldn’t deny it. The next woman who wanted Harry could steal him away from her just she had stolen him away from Ginny. “You’re pretty smart, mister.”

He laughed. “Ah get by. But don’t call me mister. Ah’m only fourteen.” To her bulging eyes he said, “We grow ‘em big in Texas.” And he chuckled a bit.

Texas, hum. I just know I’ve met this fellow.

As he lifted his glass the sun gleamed off of a simple gold band on his left ring finger. She sounded stunned when she asked, “You’re MARRIED?”

He set his glass down. “Yep. Texas law allows it when both sets of parents and the county judge agree that the happy couple have the maturity to make the lifetime decision.” He smile slipped a bit. “Also... Ah put a baby in her.”

Hermione’s face must have shown what she was thinking. “NO, no. Don’t get me wrong. We love each other. Ah’m sure we’d have married at eighteen. It’s just that...” He looked rather thoughtful, “when you join up that young, you close off a lot of options.”

He shifted in his chair and the opening of his coat show a glint of gold on his belt buckle. Her eyes were drawn to the medallion set in the silver shield. She stared. It was a galleon, the gold coin used among the magical community in Britton.

“Oh, you noticed mah good luck charm.” he said opening a button to give her a better look. “Three years ago Ah was a guest of your lovely country and... well Ah’m not sure just what did happen but Ah vanished for a couple of days and when Ah came back Ah had no memory of the missing time. But Ah had this in mah pocket. Since Ah got lost without it and found with it Ah figured it must be good luck.”

Three years ago? I just know I saw him about that time. If only I could remember.

“JIMMY!!! came a sharp feminine voice. A girl looking perhaps fourteen, perhaps sixteen with a substantial bulge under her coat and several large shopping bags rushed up and kissed the strange fellow. She wasn’t all THAT pretty and she had a shrewd calculating look about her but the boy seemed happy with her.

She looked at Hermione with disapproval, perhaps jealousy? “So who’s this?”

He made a gesture as if beginning an introduction. “Ah beg your pardon, ma’am. Ah never got your name.”

“Oh, Hermione. Hermione Granger.”

The girl had set down the bags and was holding out her left hand as if to shake but practically shoving the diamond solitaire into Hermione’s nose. The action of extending the hand was done in a way that opened her coat revealing Jimmy’s marriage proposal. “MRS.” she emphasized, “Jimmy Cauldera.”

Jimmy Cauldera?! That’s the lunatic who pulled a gun on Percy in third year. Oh, but he also saved Harry from the Dementor. Shaking the hand she said, “Well, I’ve got to go. It’s been nice talking to you Jimmy.”

“An honor and a privilege, Miss Hermione.” he said touching his hat brim.

“We have to go too, Jimmy. Daddy is waiting to introduce you to some of his business contacts.”

“Ah can hardly wait mah dear.” But it seemed to Hermione that he would much prefer to wait.

She watched the couple go until the were out of sight. She had come here to figure out what she should do about Harry, if he was really worth what she thought she was willing to sacrifice. She thought she now had the answer.

What can i say its good,but i would have prefered it to be a bit longer but its good it the writing and stuff,

Nice

BUMP

Very, very good!
And the number of letters is anything, the main thing is
sense and your attitude to writing.
Go on!!!

+Wants more+
A bit confusing, it could have more details, but not too many. All in all, I really do like it.

I like it...you should write another story soon!

that was really good. yes, you should write another

this is really good! You should write more!

aah that was so good. I wish you could have continued with this story.

Very nice! I liked the writing, well done!

this is very good, one of the best fanfics i ever read. keep posting..i love the story

its a bit confuzing but indeed well written! Hermione knows boys r trouble now dont she?

Actually, sweetheart, I tried to show that both genders had their share of troublemakers. But at least you saw half of it. X

very good. keep goin'...

I like your fanfic. Keep writing.

So many of you find the story confusing. It may be because you missed my earlier fic, Another Muggle at Hogwarts. If so you can check it out on my webpage http://www.geocities.com/mickey_shul...thermuggle.htm.

When my sister read it she said, "I want to know how she got pregnant." (She growled when I asked, "Didn't mother explain that to you?") Jimmy, as he's painted in the earlier fic doesn't seem likely to broadcast his seed so I wrote this piece to help explain.

Afterthoughts

Jimmy and Judy walked arm-in-arm from the ice cream parlor. She was babbling on about how rich and powerful these people they were going to see were and how much they could do for his career as a business man. He continued to smile as if in the utmost contentment.

Inside he was screaming, Somebody KILL me! In fact it took every neutrino of will to keep his face placid. Nothing in his life was the way he wanted it and he saw no way to change any of it. Since he'd learned to read he'd been fascinated with math and physics. Even in late elementary school he'd been studying engineering texts and his teachers saw great promise in him. The few times he'd forced himself to look at business papers his head swirled with confusion and utter meaninglessness.

His eyes stayed on her so much they'd have run into something if she didn't keep a look out. She thought he was enraptured with her beauty. In truth he was trying to take his mind off of the future he so feared by concentrating on the pain of seeing her face. By the living God! I don't need Miss America, but what ever drove me to taking this girl? She's UGLY!

"Jimmy! Are you listening to me? You not, are you? Am I really so beautiful you can't think about anything else?" She released a giggle that was no doubt meant to be enticingly girlish but he found as frightful the cry of a harpie.

He said not a word; he just continued to smile. How did it happen? How in all Gehenna did I get here? WHY did I lay one finger on her? He knew all about human reproduction, had known (at least the basics) since pre-school. He'd felt urges towards girls for years but never thought he'd give in knowing what the result could be. In God's own name, I don't even remember doing it.

He remembered his parents calling him into the study to tell him that Judy's parents had called with most distressing and most unbelievable news. They weren't angry with him, but he almost wished they had been. It would have been easier to take than the hurt in their eyes. All the years of careful teaching they'd given him, all the hard work and careful example they saw as wasted. When he had denied it they seemed to be trying to believe but couldn't really doubt what they'd heard.

He remembered the next day marching with his head held high into the fertility clinic where impartial science would settle the matter. A weeping Judy and her enraged parents met him. Jimmy's dad was diplomatic but firm. If the test came back positive, Jimmy would do the right thing. The weeping girl tore at his heart. Of course he would meet his obligations, if they were his. She wailed, "Oh Jimmy, how could you say such a thing?"

The tech explained the procedure and in a few hours the verdict was in. The child Judy was carrying was indeed his. Again his parents looked disappointed. He wanted to tell them he had no memory of the event, no notion of how it happened. But he knew that wouldn't help. He wouldn't want to get out of it on those grounds, would not find it honorable. Also he knew it would give them no comfort.

His mouth tasted of ashes, but he screwed on a smile and dropped to one knee. "Judy," he said from rout, "will you marry me?"

Even then a foolish little part of his mind was hoping she would answer, "Err, no thank you." But of course what she did say was, "Eeeeek, YES!"

The wedding was a bit rushed to get it over with before the bride began to show, but Jimmy thought it was wasted effort as her figure was not that great in the best of times. Her parents paid the freight without a whimper. In fact Jimmy got the impression they'd could have been pushed to pay a bit more if anybody thought it needed. During the reception (with ice sculptures, yet) he over heard some friends of Judy's parents express surprise. "Can you imagine it? Who in his right mind would get THAT harridan in trouble?"

"Jimmy, have you heard a word I've said?"

"Oh, sorry dear. I was thinking about the wedding."

"Ooo, how sweat. It was the happiest day of my life, just like the fairy book." Her arms rapped tighter about him.

*******

The afternoon passed. Jimmy met the friends of Judy's dad and did a fair job of seeming interested in them and what they had to say. That evening he sat in their room at the hotel going over the same thoughts. If I had to get a girl pregnant, why couldn't she at least have been good looking like that Brit at the ice cream shop, what did she call herself, Hermione? Judy was on the phone to her mom. The woman's just in the next room. As I live, can't she go an hour without a phone attached to her ear? The harsh tones of her voice were peeling the skin off his ear drums.

Finally she hung up. He decide to risk broaching the subject that prayed on his mind, but most delicately of course. "Sweetheart, you don't mind being married to me, seeing as how I, err, forced the issue?"

She looked honestly surprised. "Mind? Why darling it's what I always wanted, to be married to a big, strong, handsome fellow like you. In fact, I have a little confession to make." She had his full attention. "I, I, well you remember that day you came over to my house to help me with my homework?"

Jimmy had no trouble remembering the day. He had helped, or tried to help, dozens of his school chums, but never had he met anyone so indifferent, bored and just plain stupid as the girl before him. "Well, I, remember those drinks I fixed for us, the ginger ale and orange juice?" Jimmy remembered, it had a decided off taste as if juice had started to ferment. "Well, mine was ginger ale, yours was champagne."

"Wha...WHAT? You mean like, wine or something?" Jimmy had only the sketchiest idea of alcohol having never had a drink. He had decide in elementary school to wait till he was eighteen, if then, for some of life's choicer vices.

"Not just wine, a very expensive wine. When I told my daddy how I'd managed it he wanted to beat me for using it. But really what does it matter? We're married now and that's all that's important. We're man and wife for ever and ever and ever."

Jimmy's head was swimming. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had been deceived, manipulated, controlled. Judy's moronic chatter was being drowned in some strange sort of buzz in his head. His vision was fading. He heard her as from a distance, "Jimmy, what are you doing? JIMMY!"

*******

Next morning Hermione was on her way to Hogwarts with her own problems. With another ten months in the wizarding world ahead she wasn't thinking about what muggles were doing, didn't read any newspapers on her way to the station. If she had she might have recognized the picture and name on the front page of the Star. The headline screamed, "YANK MURDERS BRIDE." The story told how a young couple from The States was honeymooning at a London hotel and, with no warning or explanation, he had strangled her with his bare hands. The picture of the killer looked strangely at peace. The caption quoted him as saying, "Lethal injection? Oh yes, that will be fine."

Pretty good, 2 stories at the same time, I think Hermione will help Jimmy, but she seems to be full with problems, this FF is great, post more soon, PAMS PAMS

I was touched

How strange, that after my one shot reaches Finished Fic I keep adding. I hope this puts an end to it. Love you all.
*************************************************


Rebirth


Jimmy Cauldera was at peace. Many thought he was mad, that he didn't understand what was happening to him, but they were wrong. He knew exactly what he had done and what would likely be the result. In fact what he couldn't understand was what was taking so long. He had confessed; he had been caught red handed (literally). They should be dusting off the table he was to be strapped to when the med techs gave him the final release.

But in truth, it wasn't that simple. A dozen old men were gathered in a closed room, their red jackets on the chair backs and the their white wigs lying on the table exposing their bald pates to the cooling breeze and scratching fingers. The one in the middle demanded, "We've got to come to a decision. What are we going to do with him?"

The one with a wart on the end of his nose waved his hand in exasperation. "Why is it our problem, anyway? The killer's a foreigner, so is the victim. Why not simply send him back home and let them deal with him?"

The one with the watery eyes sighed wearily. "Because a crime had been committed on our land; that makes it our jurisdiction."

An especially fat one offered, "But what shall we decide? If we convict, the Americans will be offended that we had the nerve to pass judgment on one of their people; if we acquit they will be offended that we allowed the killer of one of their people off."

The one with the walking stick (his gout was acting up again) asked, "Couldn't we pass it on to NATO or the UN or, or somebody?"

"And notify the world that we can't deal with a simple, straight forward murder, the world AND the Queen?" demanded the stoop shouldered one.

The one in the middle ground his store-bought teeth. "Let's try another secret ballot. Maybe we'll luck out and we can all go home."

*******

Jimmy sat in a small room near the main door of the court house. Since he had been cooperative, even docile, they had allowed him to wear his own clothes instead of the blaze orange jump suit issued at the jail. The surface layer was a black Stetson and western frock coat which, except for the flair at the bottom, resembled the black robes worn by wizards in the children's fairy-tale books. He sat calm and serene, almost motionless. His mouth was without expression; not fear, anger or happiness. His eyes, however, if any one had noticed, held a hint of a smile. He was finally free of the hated baggage and the deadly fear of the future he could not face.

The two policemen who were supposed to be guarding him had become bored early on and were watching a soccer game on the T.V. He had glanced at the screen when he heard them say "football," but when he saw the ball was the wrong shape and nobody was wearing blue and silver he lost interest. An hour later he grew bored with the whole thing and, losing patience with the slow grind of the wheels of justice, walked out. Nobody else interfered, because after all you don't expect murder suspects to be walking around loose.

*******

Wandering about the streets of London diverted him from his boredom for a while. A part of him wondered if he should really be doing this. After all, he was a murderer; he had a debt to pay to society. But society didn't seem to be in any great hurry to collect. He had made his original capture easy on them; if they really wanted him they could expend a little effort to look for him.

Perhaps they were right. Perhaps the sudden realization of what that creature had done to him and the release from her clutches had unhinged him a bit. He certainly wasn't behaving the way he remembered himself. He was under indictment for murder and he was just wandering about the city like a tourist. Hmmm, somehow that reminded him of his visit three years ago. He was a tourist in London and, and... He didn't know what had happened, but there were two days missing from his memory and there was the feeling that he had done something in those two days, something great. They said he had saved a man from being electrocuted. That was good, but it didn't seem quite... he didn't know.

It was a warm day, even for English September. His coat was unbuttoned showing his western wear snap front shirt and blue denims. Also it showed his tooled leather belt with the large silver plaque of a belt buckle set with what he considered his good luck charm, a gold medallion he had found in his coat pocket when he recovered his memory. It had an image of a strange, half-human face and writing in an alphabet nobody he knew could decipher. It was rather large, if the weight and density were any indication of content it carried over eight U.S. dollars in gold.

Arthur Weasley of the Ministry of Magic was also out for a stroll. He delighted in all things muggle and watching them up close like this was a great pleasure. He was fascinated with physical systems like traffic lights, gasoline engines and the blaring radios of the street punks. He was even more fascinated by the social inventions such as bus stops, traffic cops and the postal service. Every where he turned he saw people with no magic whatever not only surviving but thriving, accomplishing great things. There was nothing to remind him of the wizarding world, nothing except...

What was THAT? That man! He's wearing a galleon on his, what do they call them? Oh, yes, a belt buckle. What is he trying to do, bring down the whole wizarding world? Has he never heard of the Secrecy Act?

He rushed over to the man and pulled his great coat closed. Thank goodness he was dressed in that strange way. Arthur whispered harshly, "Are you MAD? Why are you flashing that coin about?"

Jimmy just stared a moment. "Wwwwwhat?" The whole world had seemed a little unreal since he had murdered his wife, but having a strange man, and an English man at that, rush and grab the edges of his coat seemed totally abnormal. "What are you doing, err, sir?"

Arthur was given pause at the response. It seemed the man didn't even understand what he was doing. Is he mad? Does he not even understand what he's doing? I'd better get him to St. Munggo’s quickly. "Uh, you better come with me to the, err, hospital." What will I do if he doesn't want to come along? Can I get back up to help me before somebody notices?

But Jimmy was of no mind to make trouble. One place was as good as another today and the man seem to honestly want to help. The way he said "hospital," he must mean mental hospital. Well, that may well be what I need. He went along quietly.

*******

At St. Munggo’s Arthur flashed his Ministry I.D. and got the immediate attention the shift healer. "Arthur, so nice to see you. Who's your friend?"

"Jimmy, Jimmy Cauldera." the boy said offering his hand.

Even the as they shook the healer could tell something was not quite right with this fellow. "Err, Cicero, could we talk somewhere private?" Arthur communicated with facial ticks that this was a delicate matter and was to be handled as official business.

"Certainly, let's see if the conference room is empty."

*******

Arthur had Jimmy sit at one end of the table while he and the healer went to the other end of the room where they whispered seriously. "Cicero, this is serious. This fellow is barking mad even if he's docile right now. You see that hunk of metal on his middle?"

"Is that a galleon? What he doing with on his clothes?"

"I don't know, but he was standing there on the street with his coat open and showing it to the whole world, the whole muggle world. And when I asked him what he was doing he didn't seem to understand what I was talking about. Do you think it may be a botched Imperius Curse?"

"That's one possibility. I'll get him up to the forth floor and have him looked over. But don't expect anything soon. On top of all the war injuries and other troubles with He-who-must-not-be-named we're having a resurgence of Bartholomew's Syndrome."

"Is that the one that kills magical talent in otherwise normal wizards?"

"The very same. We haven't had a case world wide in fourteen years and now it's all over the nation. We're not even sure if it's natural this time or something the enemy has released. If our side is getting it and his isn't, then we're really up the pitch without a broomstick."

*******

Jimmy was in a private room with furniture out of an old Dr. Kildare movie. He was grateful they had found him some old but serviceable flannel pajamas instead of the traditional gown-on-the-half-shell. The only odd part was when ever anybody came in to examine him instead of putting a thermometer in his mouth or drawing blood they pointed what looked like a simple wooden rod at him. What kind technology would it take to put that kind of instrumentation in so small a probe?

One of the many people who had visited him was back, conventional scrubs but no stesescope, pocket full of tongue depressors or pen light. Just the same wooden rod. Not quite the same, it seemed there were several different colors. “And how are we today?” she asked, another way this was just like any other hospital.

“Just fine doctor. I never felt better.” This earned him a sour look. He been getting that at intervals and was beginning see a pattern. “Err, ma’am. Is there something wrong with the word ‘doctor?’” He hit pay dirt on the first try.

“My proper title is ‘healer’ young man. I would appreciate it if you’d use it.”

Jimmy nodded politely and gave a friendly smile as he thought, Freaking new-age jargon has taken over. “Yes of course healer. How am I doing?” he said nodding at the wooden rod in her pocket.

Her smile said she was now satisfied that he would show her the proper respect. She drew her rod and waved it about in a complex pattern in front of him. “You seem to be in perfect condition.” She referred to the clipboard she was carrying. “There’s nothing physically wrong with your body or your brain. The irregular behavior that landed you here may have been the result of some sort of shock. Has anything happened lately to upset you badly?”

Jimmy tried not to smile as he thought, The understatement of the century. “Uh, yes but I think I’m getting over it.” He didn’t care to go into it if he could help it.

“Well you can’t drag on here forever if there’s nothing wrong with you. We’ll just have a quick test of your talent and you can be on your way.”

“My, uh, talent ma’am?”

She looked like she couldn’t decide if he was being factious or was really deranged. She spoke most sharply. “Yes young man, your TALENT. Take out your wand and give the most elementary demonstration.”

Jimmy picked up that by wand she meant a wooded rod such she and everybody else here had been using on him since his arrival. When he fumbled for a response she filled in for him. “You’ve LOST your wand? Oh that is just great, just great. Very well, I’ll do a diagnostic charm. It’s more bother for me but what does that matter.”

She waved her rod, or wand, about him in a different pattern and stopped dead. “What the...” She waved again. “You, you’ve completely lost your talent. You have no magic at all.” She ran out of the room calling loudly. “Healer Bilgewater, Healer Bilgewater!”

Jimmy stared at the door as it closed behind her. Magic? Am I really so nuts that I think she said magic? Or did I hear her right, meaning that she’s the one that’s nuts?”

She came running back in with a man who looked abut sixty and already had his wand out. Without so much as a by-your-leave he waved it about Jimmy and said, “Egad! Another case. You boy, why didn’t you tell somebody you had it when you came in?”

“He probably didn’t even understand what was wrong with him sir. He seems to be... not all there.” She poked at her right temple with her index.

“Well, don’t despair, young man. We’ve just come up with a new potion that has shown remarkable success. Nearly all the patients taking it have regained their powers within twenty-four hours.” He left while the woman stayed watching Jimmy nervously. Bilgewater returned with pint size stoppered bottle. “Here you go. Just drink this down. I’m sure you’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

Jimmy looked at the bottle doubtfully. Should I really take the medical advice of people I’ve already decided are insane? But then as soon as I get out of here I’m facing the death penalty anyway. Without a word of question or thanks he took the bottle, thumbed out the cork and knocked down the contents.

He started feeling drowsy before he had handed back the bottle. Bilgewater caught it before it fell. “There you go young man. You’ll be fit as a muggle fiddle by morning.” The woman guided him back into bed as he dozed off.

*******

Many miles to the north stood a grand and glorious castle on the shore of a lovely lake. Up high in one of it towers was a room filed with ancient books and strange devices. One of these devices, on a desk which also held a name plaque labeled “Dumbledore,” was a snow-white quill hovering, with no apparent means of support, over a book. As the castle bells began tolling midnight the quill began scratching on the parchment. It wrote:

James Cauldera
New Braunfels, Texas

i love it. Please post some more soon

Thanks, Gurly. Ah didn't know if anybody had read this last piece. Ah'm working on mah addenum to HBP but it will be a month or more before it's ready.

this is the worst fanfic i read no offense but it is why would anyone you now what never mind what i'm trying to say is that you make them sound horrible. **throwsup**