In the meantime, the doctor arrived and checked Evan over. "You apparently only suffered a mild concussion, Midshipman" stated the doctor. "It's quite miraculous, actually" stated one of the detectives. With the exception of O'Brian and the two others, there were only minor injuries. One would have expected to see more dead and burned passengers" he continued. "It's almost like there was a shield over them – the scorching flames from the bomb hit the top of the bus and then moved forward, but didn't touch anybody. Even the percussive wave from the bomb didn't harm the passengers much, just the bus" he said. "Well, Midshipman. If the police don't need you, you should be able to leave by this evening. In the meantime, you should rest." Said the doctor. "Yes sir. Thank you" Evan replied.
"I'll have a jeep here at 18:00 to pick you up and return you to base" the Commander said. "No" said the Queen. "The Midshipman will be my guest for dinner tonight and will be resting at the Royal Residence tonight. He can return to base tomorrow after a good night's rest" she stated. "Yes, your Majesty, Ma'am" the Commander responded.
February 19, 1996. 9:00am. Beauxbaton Academy of Magic, Pyrenees Mountains, France. Hermione was sitting in her transfiguration class when a young women entered, asked the professor to pardon her for interrupting. Upon the professor's nod, the young woman turned toward Hermione as said "Ms. Granger. Your presence is requested in the Headmistress' office immediately." The woman then turned back toward the professor, excused herself and left without further fanfare. Hermione's breath hitched for a second. She looked at the professor, who looked back with eyebrows raised. Hermione shrugged and asked to be excused. Upon approval, she gathered her bags and also left. She entered the Headmistress' office after being given approval to enter, and stood at ease in front of Madam Maxine's large desk. This was only the second time she had stood in front of the desk and it did not seem to get any smaller – she could barely see above the table top! The Headmistress could, of course, see her clearly from her position. "Miss Granj'er." She began. "I have here a request from the Queen of England for your presence at the Royal Residence for meetings later this afternoon through tomorrow morning. Do you know what this is about?" she asked, eyebrow(s) raised. "No, Ma'am." "This is no…prank?" she asked. "Not likely, Ma'am. The Queen and I are acquainted, so it is possible she is really the one asking to meet with me." Replied Hermione. Madam Maxine raised her eyebrow(s) a bit hearing this young woman knew such a woman of power. "Very well then. I will provide you with a secure portkey back to the school for tomorrow. The Queen will have a…..heli…helicoptère at the Toulouse-Blagnac Airport at 10:00am today. Here is a portkey to the main magical terminal at the airport – it activates in 30 minutes. Report back to me when you return, yes?" Madam Maxine asked. "Yes, Headmistress. I will. And thank you!" Hermione took the portkeys and rushed to her dorm room, put her books away, and packed a small back for a one-night layover. At the designated time she was whisked off to the Toulouse-Blagnac Airport.
February 19, 1996. 09:40am, Toulouse-Blagnac Airport, France. Hermione appeared at the portkey terminal in the magical terminal of the airport, and moved outside the portkey circle. She looked around curiously and worriedly. Hermione had never been to the airport, let alone the magical terminal and was soooo curious to explore; at the same time however, she was worried because she did not know who or where to meet the helicopter. As she was about to look around again, a middle-aged man stepped up to her. "Good morning miss. Are you Hermione Grainger?" "Yes. Yes, sir, I am" she replied. The man's face relaxed a bit. "I am Her Majesty's Wizard, Sir John Flemming. The Queen asked me to meet you at the airport and escort you to Her Royal Residence." Hermione relaxed a bit – one problem solved. "Thank you, sir. I was a bit anxious as I didn't really know where to go to meet the helicopter." Hermione responded. "Not a problem, Miss Granger. Please follow me." Hermione let her curious side out as they walked and boarded the helicopter – she had sooooo many questions to ask the Queen's Wizard! The first, though was "Are you by any chance related to the writer, Ian Flemming?"
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June 12, 1996. 22:00 (10pm), CTCRM. Tomorrow, Evan and his team mates would be awarded their Green Beret and Insignia. Today had been the last day of the final Commando Test. Evan had been training as a Royal Marine for the last 8 months. He had most recently completed the Ops of War, Commando Phase, and Kings Squad training. The training had been both grueling and rewarding. He had been offered to go on to Officers Training, however after discussing it with one of his Sergeants, he opted to first get deployed to a unit to get field experience. Evan wanted to experience what good and/or bad officers were like. He would have his chance again in a year, so they told him.
Evan had made time twice a week to have a "date night" with Hermione by communication mirror. Despite his soon-to-be-former team members knowing about her being magical, he never discussed magic or used any magical devises in view of his team (or other non-magicals). He also continued with both his nightly martial arts training and magical arts training (as he called it). Evan had been diligently practicing his animagus transformation – occasionally, on a weekend when he had leave, he'd travel to a nearby forest and transform, staying a day and night as a Harpy Eagle.
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