A Thorn Among Serpents

At number eight, Cedarglen, the Grangers were the sort of family anybody would call pleasant. They loved their patch of the neighborhood and treated everyone kindly - even the people who might sneer at them, such as Mr. Pritchard, who lived only a few neighborhoods away and worked at a drill company named Marlowe Drills. Marlowe Drills sat directly opposite Crescent Dental, the five-star teaching practice where the lovely Grangers were employed. Mr. Granger worked in the adult ward at Crescent Dental. His tall, lanky frame spent its days bent over mouths opened wide, leaving the same noticeable hump at the neck that he and his wife had both acquired. The brown hair he'd inherited had thinned after years of hard work, and his rounded features seemed rounder still after the hearty suppers his wife prepared. Mrs. Granger, meanwhile, was short from all the coffee she drank. Even so, people said her thick curls and high cheekbones made her prettier than most women, the complete opposite of Mrs. Pritchard, the snobbish tall woman with wispy blonde hair. Mrs. Granger worked in the children's ward of Crescent Dental and, more often than not, particular parents asked for her by name. Mr. and Mrs. Granger had one daughter named Hermione, who was bright and plainly clever even for a one-year-old. She learned things quickly, and strangers stopped to coo over her more times than the couple could possibly count. The Grangers had worked hard for the comfortable lives they enjoyed, to say the least. They had no real enemies (unless the Dursleys counted, who disliked them especially), Mrs. Granger held book club every Wednesday evening, and child-free date night came around on the second and fourth Saturday of each month. Their daughter's whole life still stretched before her, which meant more trips and more memories, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger thrived in the jobs they had once dreamed of. By their own measure, they lived perfect lives. At seven o'clock on Tuesday morning, Mr. and Mrs. Granger woke to the false wails of their daughter, as always. The sky was overcast, yet the dreary grey did nothing to spoil the couple's mood. Mr. Granger, tired though he was, held an affectionate Hermione in one arm while selecting his favorite blue scrubs, fresh from the previous day's wash. He placed Hermione on the bed and slipped into the lavatory to dress, while Mrs. Granger, already wearing bright yellow, gathered her daughter into her arms and went down to the ground floor. Her in-laws were waiting with breakfast from the cafAc and warm smiles on their faces. When the town clock rang eight, Mr. and Mrs. Granger kissed their daughter and said goodbye to the grandparents. They climbed into their only car and drove to work, with neither of them noticing the odd clothes on the cheerful strangers outside or the owls gliding overhead.