Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It… was a weird feeling when I opened my eyes.

Like… really, REALLY weird.

I could not remember overly much. There had been a crash, immense pain, flashing lights… then calmness and cold, beeping sounds.

And then there was… nothing.

There had been an accident, that much I could remember. I had been running on the side of the road, when suddenly a car had come careening towards me, crashed into the barrier that had separated the road from the pavement.

And then it had crashed into me.

After that… flashing lights and pain. The beeping probably indicated a stay in the hospital.

Had they healed me? Completely?
I didn’t feel any pain…

Carefully I tried moving my arms and legs and really: no pain.
Only then did I take a look around. I was in a room that looked kind of similar to mine when I had been a kid. The bed was made of wood, had four low posters and the duvet showed pictures of flowers.

It was definitely intended for a kid.
Still, I fit into it without problems, which weirded me out quite a bit.

Beside the bed there was a bookshelf, filled to the brim with books of every variety – from children’s books to books for young adults and loads and loads of non-fiction and textbooks. There also were even more stacks of books on the bedside-table.

Diagonal to the bed stood a heavy wardrobe and next to it, under a window, a desk with some more piles of books, together with notebooks and a few pencils. Some clothes had been thrown over the chair in front of it, nearly burrowing a brown teddy bear underneath.

There also was a chest of drawers with more books and some small knick-knack on top of it and a chest that looked like it could be containing pirate-booty crowded into the small room.

Where the hell was I?!

Warily I tiptoed to the window and peered through the curtains. I didn’t recognize the cobbled street with the narrow houses, but… they reminded me of my stay in Bridgend, a small town near Cardiff, the capital of Wales, or the time I had spent in Fort William, an even smaller town in Scotland. They were narrow but pretty high, just like the room I was in, with small gardens that tended to be a bit on the wild side, and looked kind of huddled together.

Yes, they definitely reminded me of my stay in the UK. And they definitely didn’t look like any city or town in Austria.

What the hell?!

My eyebrows lowered and I started worrying my lower lip.

Something just… wasn’t right.

I had of course read about people being abducted by some mentally ill and placed in rooms of their loved ones as substitutes, but didn’t that usually happen to children? Or… young, insecure women, at most?! And not people like me – confident women, secure in their standing and their abilities and rapidly going on thirty…

One might be able to consider me pretty, but I was by no means a beauty, so that reason fell flat too. I wasn’t a person of interest either, considering I was a librarian. I hadn’t witnessed any crime or anything comparable, my hobbies were nothing of real interest to anyone. Maybe martial arts, archery, hiking, sewing and forging were not the usual hobbies of your average 29-year-old in the 21st century, but they were nothing that would warrant a kidnapping.

So… what the bloody hell was I doing here? And in a child’s room, no less?!

If I really wanted to, I could climb out of that window without any problems and be on the street, ready to run to safety and call for help in mere minutes, since I was only on the first floor.

But I was… curious.

Before running away and calling the law down upon my maybe-or-maybe-not-kidnappers, I wanted to know what I was doing here, how I had gotten here and who had brought me to this place. For that I would gladly try to do some acting – even if I was admittedly quite terrible at it.

Therefore, I snuck out of my room and looked around. I was standing in a corridor and counted six doors, including the one to the room I had woken up in, and excluding the door that obviously was the door that would lead me outside. With a hand on the doorknob I realized that somehow this apartment had to have been built for giants since the doorknob was at the height of my shoulder.

Weird.

It was also weird that I hadn’t thought more about the size of everything before. Was that some kind of kink? A… pint-sized woman? Maybe there were cameras everywhere and I was being filmed for some kind of pornographic movie about a midget or something. Didn’t they do the same when they were filming The Lord of the Rings?

…

Well, not the pornographic part, though.

Without my consent my eyes moved around, searching for dark corners or anything to possibly harbour a camera really, but came up more or less empty. Still, a shiver was creeping down my spine and I could feel my paranoia on the rise.

Was I really being watched?

Maybe this was some kind of weird Truman Show.

Or maybe not.

Or maybe it really was the midget-porn, I hadn’t ruled that one out yet.

Okay, I REALLY needed to get some perspective and insight here, which wouldn’t happen if I just stayed where I was.

So, I opened the first door.
It led into a quite unremarkable bathroom, maybe a little outdated. It had a bit of an eighties-flair and looked a bit like the bathroom in my parents’ first apartment, so I didn’t linger.

The next door had me stumbling into a broom closet, in which there were also some preserved vegetables and fruit in big glass jars.

The next door revealed a room that obviously housed the parents of the girl the room I woke up in belonged to.

The next was another bedroom, but really impersonal, so maybe… a guestroom?

Opening the next door I stumbled into a living room with an adjacent kitchen. Both rooms were quite dark with lots of wooden furniture and cluttered with knickknacks and pictures of a beautiful brunette woman, a handsome brunette man, who still looked young but obviously had some silver on his temples, and a young brunette girl.
The little girl looked a bit like me, as I had, when I had been in preschool – scrawny, a wild mop of brown hair on her head, dark brown eyes, freckles and crooked teeth, not hidden at all by the wide smile.

I grinned solemnly. Thank the gods for dentists.

But yes, that girl and me – we could probably be sisters.

I froze.

Even now I did look kind of like her, just older. Had something happened to their daughter and did they want me to fill the void?

Well, that would at least be better than my suspicion of midget-porn…

But there still was the problem with the too big apartment.

Thoroughly confused now I trudged back into what I had dubbed as “my” room and sat on the bed, staring at the white wall in front of me.

The room didn’t really look uninhabited though. The bedsheets looked slept-in, more than once, the desk looked worked-on, not too long ago, the clothes over the chair looked definitely worn, but not as if they had been lying around for longer than a few days…

…

The clothes.

I immediately got up and picked up the clothes. They were a bit old fashioned, but clearly for a young girl. And still, they were the right size to fit me. I scratched my head before I shrugged and decided to try them on.

That was the first moment I consciously looked down my own body and… stopped. I actually froze.

Where were my boobs?

I… didn’t really have much on that accord, but I definitely had FAR more than that flat expanse of… nothing I was sporting now.

My hips, relatively curvy before, were about two thirds their former size too, my legs stick-thin… The only thing that matched my actual body was the slim waist.

Did they… Did they send me through plastic surgery???

My heartbeat accelerated and my breath came out faster. One never looked the same as before after trying to reverse plastic surgery. Trying to quell my bout of panic, I stumbled into the bathroom and consciously looked into the mirror.

I stared.

Just… stood there and stared, until my stomach churned and I had to empty it into the nearby toilet.

Gosh, I felt sick.

Quivering I sank to the floor beside the weird square-shaped toilet and tried to keep my hysterics under control. My hands shook. The hands with nails that appeared to be bitten down severely.

I hadn’t bitten my nails going on twenty years now.

I was a child.

But not just me, decades younger. I was the girl in the pictures, with the mop of wavy, unmanageable hair on her head, the dark eyes, the freckles, the crooked teeth. My body had birthmarks I had never seen before, scars I had no idea how they came to be.

And I was young.

Like… really young.

I guessed this body to be about seven or eight years old.

Had I been like… maybe ten years younger, I might either believe everything happening now a dream or my memories false or planted, but by now, I had a fairly good grip on my mind, so I knew I wasn’t hallucinating, dreaming or whatever, and I knew, I was a nearly 30-year-old in the body of a child.

I knew my mind, I knew how to tell apart fantasy from reality, be they sleep- or drug-induced.
So… I knew.

This was real.

Bloody hell.

I was a bloody child.

It had taken me a while to come to terms with my situation, but deep breathing-exercises and a quite well developed control over my own mind and emotions, thanks to my martial-arts and archery training, enabled me to calm down significantly and to come up with a plan for the foreseeable future.

I needed to find out, who that girl was, whose body I was inhabiting right now. I needed to find out, if her parents had anything to do with me being here or if they expected their little girl to remain unchanged, since they had no idea there was somebody else occupying her form.

I also needed to gather information about where I was, and, as I started to suspect, when I was. As soon as I’d have a handle on my current situation, I would need to find out how I had gotten here and if there was anything more to me being here than mere coincidence. I was an avid reader and writer of fantasy and Sci-Fi, so the aspect of me being in another time and place was less upsetting than me being a bloody child.

But first things first.

A search of “my” room revealed that the girl must also have been an avid reader.
Not that I couldn’t have guessed, with the amount of books lying around. But that was good, I loved reading. And as a librarian, I loved being around books in any form anyway.

It… didn’t reveal much else though. She seemed to have an interest in everything and read books far above her age, both fiction and non-fiction.

The chest of drawers didn’t reveal much either. There was a game of Monopoly in there, which didn’t look as if it had been played often, some semiprecious stones, a dried orange rose, a game of dice and one of cards (both looked practically unused), a cream for dry hands (also unused), a screwdriver (a screwdriver???) and some audiocassettes, but nothing to play them with. There also were some buttons and a small sewing-kit that looked unused as well.

When I opened the pirate-chest, I stopped to blink for a second.

It was filled with pillows.

What the heck?!

With eyebrows practically disappearing into my hairline I took one out, turned it around, looked at it from all angles and touched and kneaded it all over, but… nothing. It was a simple pillow.

Seriously?!

I put the first pillow away and took out the next one. This one was also… simply a pillow.

The next one too.

Aaand the next one.

Aaand the… Oh, wait!

Incredulously I stared at the knife that was hidden on the bottom of the chest.

It was… a knife.

In a child’s room.

And it was quite sharp too, if my bleeding finger was any indication.

And… I repeat: IN A CHILD’S ROOM.

I may have had one or two knives when I had been her age, but they were given to me by my dad to whittle arrows for my self-made bow, not hidden away under bloody PILLOWS. And he had made sure that I knew what I was doing, before he allowed me to run about with them!

I took out the last pillow and curiously found a little wooden figurine, which – upon closer inspection – turned out to be a rough depiction of a little dragon.

Hah, the little girl was whittling too! Although far more artsy than anything I had ever attempted.

I had to quell a little grin.

But… quite obviously it wasn’t a hobby her parents approved of, if her hiding the stuff was any indication.

Okay, so that was, what I was working with: The girl, whose body I was occupying, loved reading everything she could get her hands on. Otherwise she didn’t appear to have any other interest but whittling, which didn’t seem to be anything her parents would accept.

Yeah. That was it.

The girl didn’t even seem to be in the habit of writing her name in her schoolbooks or on her notebooks. Instead, she used a number, probably her student-number. That wasn’t really helping.

How was I supposed to emulate her if I didn’t even know her name?!

Oh, wait.

I jumped up and hastened out. The door that would probably let me out of the apartment stood there unopened as of yet, so I tried the handle, but… nothing. Locked.
I frowned, until I realized, it had a deadbolt. Grumbling I did the equivalent of a head-desk: a head-door. After realizing that, the door was opened quickly and I stared at the little shield that proclaimed this apartment the property of a family named “Granger”.

…

Granger?

I knew that name.

Why did I know that name?

It really DID sound fami-…

Oh.

A mop of bushy, untameable hair. Books, everywhere one looked. The obvious lack of other interests.

Oh, wonderful.

I had always thought her a very flat character, with no more use than being the personal library and research assistant of her friends, and what I had seen of her life ‘till now emphasized that conviction.

Bloody. Hell.

I was Hermione fucking Granger.

Chapter Text

What does one do when one has no idea how to interact with one’s parents?
…
I had no idea, but I did the best I could. I tried to emulate the first signs of impending puberty, growing distant while still staying respectful. I had a really hard time getting over the fact that Jane and Thomas Granger tried to coddle me whenever they were home, which didn’t happen often. Both were dentists and worked long hours and… well, left their eight year old kid alone at home. In the short time between them arriving home and my bedtime they tried to shower me with affection that showed clearly that they had no idea about their daughter (even before some stranger started occupying her body) apart from her love of books. So… I didn’t see them often. I spent my days alone, the money they left me every morning, probably to appease their guilty conscience, far too much for anything a girl my age would need, was stored in a tiny lockable cassette I had found in the back of my wardrobe. Obviously the REAL Hermione had already started to collect that money, because there was quite an impressive amount in there by now.
It actually saddened me more than made me happy, for it meant that she had been alone for quite some time. I pitied her. But hey, now I WAS her. Which… was still weird, even after four days of living her life.

I still needed to plan what I was going to do. It was summer, so I was on holidays, but I had started to explore the neighbourhood and found the school I probably would have to go to in September, so that was one less worry. But I honestly wasn’t looking forward to spending the next three and a half years in a preschool relearning stuff I had known for over twenty years now.
The books in Hermione’s room bored me by now. The few that had actually held an interest for me I had gotten through on day two. So, I started on stuff I had liked to do when I was still myself. There was a park near the Granger-house, where I took to running, which was complicated a bit by the fact that I didn’t have running shoes or any clothing for sports, but I made do. I also started to work through my usual martial arts routines daily, marvelling at the flexibility a body this young still possessed. If I kept it up, I would make a far better fighter now than I had ever been.
At least I had found SOMETHING positive about my momentary predicament…
Okay, if I was honest, that wasn’t the only positive thing.
The first time it had happened, I had thought it a fluke. An accident. A flicker of my imagination. Or wishful thinking, even. The second time, I was prepared. I really was doing accidental magic. So, the glass that I had wanted to get down from the cupboard and that just slipped through my fingers just… stopped. Mid-air. Mid-fall, so to speak. I blinked, but didn’t freak out. I had expected it, actually, but still, it was a heady feeling. It had been ME who had stopped that glass. My bloody MAGIC.
I couldn’t stop grinning that day.
But then… I really, REALLY needed something to occupy my time since school hadn’t started yet and the weather at the moment made my sporty outings kind of… unpleasant. And I needed to devise a plan for the next three years anyway; I had no intention of only having access to magical means a month before school started. So, I started planning. First of all, I wanted to organize my mind. Harry Potter had never really gotten the hang of Occlumency, mainly because he had never tried to empty and organize his mind. Since I had more than enough time on my hands, I could at least do that much. Some fans upheld the theory that you learned faster when you had mastered the mind-organizing-thing, and I agreed with them.
And… meditation wasn’t bad for you, even if it didn’t work out the way I expected it to. So, I started to meditate at least one hour in the morning and one hour before bed. I cleared my mind and started organizing what I had experienced before and what I had learned that day. It actually worked – or at least I thought it did. I became calmer and was able to focus better. Well, we would see how far that would go. And if it really was the result of the meditation-exercise or just my imagination.
I then looked for bus trips to London, though I realized fairly quickly that a trip there needed far more planning, since I wouldn’t be able to do everything I wanted in the span of just one day. It was really annoying.
Instead, I started writing everything down that I remembered from the books and movies. Everything. I had a notebook on spells – all spells I could recall went in there. Everything I remembered about plants in another, then I started one about magical creatures, one about potions ingredients, one about the chronological order of happenings and so on.
I didn’t want to rely on my memory to be able to remember everything in three years’ time. Those Notebooks I studiously hid inside my wardrobe, under my underwear. Since I was doing the laundry (I had insisted I wanted to help with the chores around the house), no one but me ever opened that particular can of worms. And yes, it had been completely intentional. I wasn’t unerringly sorted into Slytherin in all and every test the internet could devise for nothing.
Since I was still bored out of my mind most of the time (dear Herm didn’t seem to have any friends, like… at all), I started to frequent the library and took up gymnastics for added flexibility and strength.
The librarian might have been a bit weirded out by my choices of reading material. I preferred politics, philosophy, history, botany and languages. Politics and history were my fortes, since I had studied those in my time and… reality, and philosophy had always been a special interest of mine. Botany was quite new for me though. For the languages I chose French, Latin and Bulgarian. Latin because most spells were in that language, and French and Bulgarian as a precautionary measure for the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year.
Since I already had a rudimentary understanding of French and Latin (I had studied the former in school and the latter in Uni), I went through the Units pretty fast, but Bulgarian proved to be quite the challenge. Suffice it to say that I probably butchered the poor language. And since I didn’t really have anyone to help me with pronunciation, I was quite sure I was really… well… bad at it. Embarrassingly so.

Anyway, it took fourteen more bursts of accidental magic in three weeks until Hermione’s parents realized something wasn’t quite right. I had… fostered those outbursts, for a lack of a better word, encouraged them even.
Ever since I had started meditating, I had started to feel the ebb and flow of my magic. I hadn’t managed to draw on it consciously yet, but at least I could feel it. And yes, it could be encouraged to swirl far closer to the surface than it probably would on its own. I had no idea if that was a good or a bad thing, but it was such a heady feeling, I didn’t feel inclined to stop it. I sometimes quietly compared it to my version of drugs.
So, since my magic was far more… ALIVE than before, my bursts of accidental magic increased tenfold. And so, Hermione’s parents noticed. They panicked and wanted to get me examined, but I point-blank told them that they could forget that. They weren’t used to me speaking to them that way, so they stopped and stared. I invented a friend with wizarding parents, who had introduced me to the wizarding world and who had also told me that I would probably go to Hogwarts, a boarding school for witchcraft and wizardry, with him. They were (understandably) wary and didn’t really believe me, until my next burst of accidental magic landed me on the roof of our house when Hermione’s father had surprised me after barbequing in the garden.
They didn’t really know how to treat me after that. They didn’t want their neighbours to know and they actually tried to ignore and deny that part about me.
Oh well. I didn’t really care all that much. They were pleasant enough and I gladly took their money, but they hadn’t been particularly interested in me before either. And they weren’t my parents anyway. To be honest, I was kind of glad. I wasn’t used to people telling me how to structure my day, what to do and how to spend my time, since I had lived on my own for nearly seven years now.
So I could just say one thing to that, while shrugging unconcernedly: Oh well.
Finally, finally the school started up again. I had my bursts of accidental magic under control now. Well… more or less. Rather less, but I had at least learned some fraction of control. Really. Well, maybe I really was only trying to convince myself there, but it WAS better than in the beginning. Or maybe it had just acclimated by now. I still voted for my increased control though. So, I sat in the classroom. People actually actively tried to avoid sitting close to me. Come on, guys, intelligence and knowledge aren’t contagious! And even if they were, that was something you should actually WANT to be infected with!

Jeesh. Children.

I kept quiet for most of the day, only speaking when the flustered teacher asked me directly. She obviously wasn’t used to my silence. Of course, I always answered correctly though. Not that it was such a great feat. The questions were embarrassingly easy. Still, I was trying not to let it show.
I did the homework immediately after every lesson. It was a real embarrassment and the only thing that actually cost a decent amount of time was me trying to emulate Hermione’s writing style. I wasn’t sure I got it right completely, but none of the teachers commented, so I figured it had to be good enough.
So, since school lasted the whole day in the UK, I had the study-hours and evenings completely to myself. The time when the students could complete homework in school while a teacher was around for any questions were spent meditating in a corner. In the evenings I did some sports, worked on my notebooks and read. Oftentimes I spent hours in the library. The weekends I spent with much the same – meditating, sports and reading. It got… boring with time. As much as one could like learning and stuff, if you had no one to share or discuss it with, it could really start getting on your nerves. But I didn’t really feel inclined to make any friends that were 21 years my junior and as dumb as they came. I did like the new assistant librarian though, but she was about 27, so she was unlikely to see me, an 8 year old kid, as a friend, even though she was happy enough to talk a little with me about the books I had read.
When October came around we were informed we would get a new supplement teacher while our old one went on maternity leave. Weird, since I hadn’t realized she had been pregnant at all. Maternity leave didn’t get granted until eight weeks before birth in Austria and I knew it couldn’t be THAT different in the UK. Even in the 80s. Maybe it had been high-risk or something…? But even then, if one didn’t show at all, it still seemed too early.
Oh well. I probably was just a little bit paranoid.
The new teacher was a middle-aged woman with blond hair and steely ice-blue eyes. Her features were sharp and stern and her lips seemed to be twisted into a perpetual sneer – it didn’t seem as if she smiled that often. Still, contrary to the rest of my class, I liked her. She was very strict, but a good teacher; and she encouraged us to think for ourselves, discussed topics with us and tried to get us to think about our stances on different subjects.
Needless to say, it was mostly me she talked to.
But… even taking into account that I probably was the most intelligent, knowledgeable, insightful and mature student she had ever had (which wasn’t very hard, mind you, having 21 years on the rest), her regard was still disconcerting. She never seemed to let me out of her sight for long.
Or maybe that was just my paranoia acting up again…?

“Miss Granger, would you mind staying behind for a few minutes?”
I started. Madam Beauregard had taught us for three weeks now and had never asked to talk to any student outside of class. Immediately my paranoia started up again.
“Yes, Madam?”, I asked cautiously once the children had left the room and the blond teacher had closed the door and done something out of my line of sight. What that had been… I had no idea. Maybe activated a microphone?
“Miss Granger, I have been watching you for three weeks now.”
So… not paranoid then. She really HAD been watching me specifically.
“Yes, Madam.”
A statement, nothing more. There was no need for more. I knew she had been watching me and she knew that I knew.
“I know that there have been… strange occurrences around you as of late; probably going back a few months by now.”
That was new, though.
“I am quite sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Madam”, I replied evenly, even managing to force a slightly confused smile onto my lips.
Her brows furrowed. “Do not play dumb with me, Miss Granger.” With that she waved her hand gracefully in the direction of the teacher’s desk. And it actually started floating.
I sneered. “I have seen that done dozens of times in the circus, Madam. If you could… you know… make ME fly on the other hand… that would be something else entirely.”
She frowned again. Or… actually, she just frowned harder. She then ripped out a stick, that suspiciously reminded me of a wand, and seemed to be studying me. I really had to bite my own lip to keep from telling her she should use a Levicorpus, since Wingardium Leviosa should not be used on anything living. I didn’t, though. “I changed my mind”, I said with a slight smile, “How about setting fire to this desk?” I nodded to one in the last row. A sparkle appeared in her eyes as she swung her wand, whispered “Incendio!” and flames burst forth. I stared. They were hot and… actually burning the desk to a crisp.
Oops.
“Good enough”, I commented, trying very hard to look unconcerned, and sat down. “So, yes, there have been strange occurrences happening around me for the last few months. You know what is happening to me, I gather?”
She did look a bit flabbergasted by my blasé response, but didn’t comment and instead sat down as well. I was pretty sure she was just glad, she didn’t have to deal with a hysterical child.
“You do know Miss Flinchwood, I presume?”
I blinked. Of course I knew Miss Flinchwood, the assistant librarian. She… wait, was she actually a witch?! But how did she know that I was one too? I had never had a burst of accidental magic around her! Now my brows furrowed suspiciously.
“She is a witch, someone with magical abilities like myself. So, yes, you are a witch too, Miss Granger.”
I blinked. I didn’t remember the books mentioning something like that. Come to think of it, there weren’t many mentions of Hermione’s childhood at all. Was that canon? Or had I changed something significantly already? Without actively doing something for it?
I feared the latter.
“There is a society that exists parallel to the one you know, a society of witches and wizards, of magic and spells and creatures and potions and everything else that you can imagine. Most magical children are born, when at least one parent is magical, but sometimes a child is born to parents that are pure muggles. Muggles are what we call non-magical-folk. You are one of those, a so-called muggleborn – born to muggles, but born with a magical core strong enough to compete with the cores of magical-born children. There is a school, of course, for people like us, to learn their way around everything magical, and you will be one of the lucky few that will get an invitation to go there when you’re eleven.”
I stared at her. “But I’m eight, Madam.”
That… obviously wasn’t what she had been expecting, and it threw her enough that she lost her perpetual scowl to blink at me owlishly. That only lasted about two seconds though. “Yes. And still, the quill that spells out the names of the yet unknown muggleborns every year has written down your name. Something like that isn’t really common, Miss Granger, but nothing that doesn’t happen once in a while. So, Miss Flinchwood was dispatched to assess the situation. I am here because of her recommendation. It doesn’t happen often that we find a muggleborn insightful and mature enough to learn about our world at your age.”
Okay. Obviously, Hermione hadn’t fit the criteria the first time around. And I did. Surprise!
“When you talk about a parallel society…”, I began, mindful to not reveal anything she hadn’t told me already, “you must have your own history, your own etiquette, and of course the basic knowledge of the magical world… yes?”
Madam Beauregard nodded. “Yes, we do. And it is commonly called The Wizarding World.”
Now it was my turn to nod. “So… is there any possibility I could start learning earlier? I don’t want to be completely ignorant when starting this school.”
Even though she had known me for three weeks now, the blond teacher still seemed surprised. “I… guess that can be arranged”, she murmured, her mind obviously already busy planning. And then, suddenly, a smile started to spread on her lips. A… for lack of a better word, I would describe it as dark. Yes, a dark and calculating smile had appeared while she looked out the window. Then, she turned around and seemed to measure me with her eyes, seemed to try to assess me, to look into my head. Ugh. Hopefully she was no Legilimens. That would make for some awkward conversations.
“How attached are you to your life here, Miss Granger…?”

Chapter Text

About a week later I stood there in my best clothes with my suitcase filled with shrunken books, clothes, a picture of Hermione’s parents and her, more books, my whittling knife and some chunks of wood. And even more books, of course. The money I had collected was safely tucked away in a secret pocket I had sewn into my cardigan.
Hermione’s parents stood there, her mother was wringing her hands desperately, her father clasped his own arms with furrowed brows, their distress clear for all to see. It had taken a while for Madam Beauregard and me to convince them it was the best for everyone involved if I moved in with a magical family. I wasn’t entirely sure if the blond witch hadn’t used a compulsion charm on them, but I wasn’t one to complain. The danger of my magic being discovered would disappear immediately and I would be far more prepared at the beginning of Hogwarts. And they didn’t have to put up with a weirdly different daughter anymore.
A perfect solution for everyone.
After Hermione’s parents had finally stopped hugging me and wetting my hair and clothes with their tears, we were ready to leave. Madam Beauregard grabbed my suitcase with her left hand, my arm with her right, and with a plop the colours around me washed out. Everything was black and I could feel a really uncomfortable pull in my stomach, but I tried to ignore it and just clutched onto my lifeline, namely the foreign hand, tighter.
Gosh, this was awful. Hopefully it would get better with continued use or I at least would get used to this.
We landed in a small but cosy sitting room and the blond woman mentioned for me to sit down. Now it was probably time for the other shoe to drop.
“I have to admit, I didn’t disclose everything”, she admitted. I just snorted. “I figured. Which magical family would actually take in and educate a muggleborn without anything to gain?” Madam Beauregard’s left eyebrow found its way upwards. Oops. Maybe I should reign in the jaded cynicism a bit. She just shrugged it off though after a few seconds. “There are different opinions in the wizarding world concerning muggleborns. I think you’re mature enough to understand all of them and you have a right to know before going into this. While most liberal purebloods and halfbloods are very pro-muggleborn and want to see our world adapted to the muggle world, there are also the traditionalist purebloods who have a rather contrary opinion. There is one group that would like to see muggleborns banned entirely. They are scared to lose their traditions, their values and ideals to the new thinking the muggleborns bring with them – and they accredit this to their muggle blood. There are others though, that think we need the influx of new blood and could benefit from bringing magical children into this world earlier to educate them on wizarding culture.
“We were looking for a muggleborn we thought would be up for an experiment: leaving their family, leaving their known surroundings and leaving the world of muggles behind to test out the theory of a muggleborn’s ability to integrate into wizarding society with proper prior schooling.”
I nodded in acceptance. “And this is where I come in. I love reading and learning and understanding what makes things tick. I adapt to new situations exceptionally fast and tend to rather accept logic than emotional outbursts. I am able to understand social situations well and act and react accordingly. I am not biased; not completely unprejudiced, of course, but I am more than willing to see the faults in my thinking and accept changes to my worldview without making a fuss. Yes, I think that could work. Although I guess I’m not your usual muggleborn, so I’m not sure if the result of this experiment would be applicable to all of them.”
I could tell I had surprised the blonde. I had always had a good handle on my strengths and weaknesses, but that had improved even more after my many hours of meditating. I was pretty sure I could assess myself quite accurately.
Madam Beauregard just nodded, though. “I have brought seven people and families willing to take in and educate a muggleborn. You will meet them and get to know them and then you will decide which person or family you want to live with, while they decide if they could see themselves taking you in. Is that acceptable?”
I just nodded. “This is perfectly acceptable, Madam.”
With a nod the blonde got up and motioned for me to follow her, which I did, of course. She led me into another sitting room, a bit larger than the first one. There was a big stone fireplace with some kind of animal fur in front of it, where an enormous grey dog, probably some kind of wolfdog, had taken up residence. Upon our entrance he opened one eye before closing it again. Then he started snoring.
Charming.
“You will first meet all the parties separately”, Madam Beauregard explained and led me to one of the settees upholstered with brown brocade with golden accents. Looking down I noted that it matched my outfit: a black skirt with brown trim, a lighter beige-brown blouse and a brown cardigan. With it came jewellery made of brass that fit the gold in the settee quite well.
I suppressed a snicker.
“Melly!”, Madam Beauregard called out and with a plop a houseelf appeared. A real houseelf! I blinked and stared at the creature quite fascinated, but the blonde didn’t elaborate and I didn’t ask. “Please send in Cornelius Fudge.”
Wait. Fudge? As in MINISTER Fudge?! Not. A. Chance!!!
But still, I wasn’t supposed to know. So… I would just shut up and listen to what he had to say. I just hoped I would be able to keep my dislike from showing on my face.
The elf plopped away and only seconds later the door opened and the man walked in. I got up. When he saw me, a smile lightened up his face, though it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “Good morning, Miss Granger! Miss Beauregard, thank you for bringing this gorgeous girl into our world!”
Good, it was official. I HATED him.
“Good morning, Mister Fudge. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Why don’t we sit down so we can get to know each other properly?” I asked, while shaking his hand and motioning to the settee. He blinked owlishly for a second when I completely took over the meeting instead of Madam Beauregard, as he probably had expected, but sat down without comment.
I took out a notebook and a pencil and noted that the blonde witch by my side tried to stifle a snort. Fudge just seemed more bewildered to suddenly feel like a job-applicant.
“So, Mister Fudge, what do you do for a living?”
It took thirty minutes before I had gotten the man to practically flee my presence. I grinned evilly.
“I take it you didn’t like him”, commented the blonde dryly from the side-lines. She hadn’t interfered at all in my interviewing the Minister of Magic; she had been busy trying not to snicker. It was quite obvious she wasn’t a fan of his.
Next came none other than Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge. I stared at Madam Beauregard to see if she had lost her mind. If those two were what I could come to expect, I would rather go back to the muggles.
“Those two wanted very much to be included, so I had to. Don’t worry, the rest aren’t that bad”, she tried to placate me, which wasn’t really reassuring. Oh well. I’d see what would happen soon anyway.
The next people entering were a couple whose names didn’t ring a bell at all. They seemed nice enough, so I was on my best behaviour. Mrs Jolaney, a tall, wiry woman with a bright red scar slashing through her face and an agitated air around her, was working as an auror, her husband, a big, muscled bear of a man, as a caretaker of magical creatures in a reservation where they bred certain beasts to harvest their parts for potions. It sounded really interesting, and they didn’t have kids, so they would be able to focus entirely on my education whenever they were off work. I could see us getting along really well and I breathed a sigh of relief.
The next were a family. All blonde, all aristocratic… No way. They couldn’t be…!
“Those are the Malfoys, Miss Granger; Lucius, Narcissa and their son Draco. He is your age and would start Hogwarts with you. Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy, Draco… This is Hermione Granger.”
I had to work REALLY hard to school my features into a resemblance of a calm façade, but I managed. Barely.
Unlike with the others I didn’t offer my hand, but inclined my head in a sort of bow, surprising not only the others present, but also myself in the process. Lucius’ face looked as stony as ever, but Narcissa looked… intrigued, for a lack of a better word. Draco just… well… sneered. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to live with the git. The older Malfoys I’d be happy to go with. The younger one though… not so much.
The next family was again one I didn’t know. The parents were older, seemed to be about 50 or 60. Mrs. Wessater was a rounder, homely woman, but her bearing and eyes betrayed a spine of steel. Mr. Wessater was completely unremarkable, look-wise, was tall, thin and wiry, but he walked with a slight hunch and had shifting eyes. I wasn’t particularly surprised to hear that she led a legal duelling-ring and that he was a former spy who now was responsible to keep the duellers and spectators in line, while also managing a magical security-company. Their children were an interesting mix too.
Elaine, the eldest daughter, was an exceptional beauty and an internationally acclaimed model. Maybe it was just me, but I was pretty sure she was following in her father’s footsteps on the side.
The second daughter, Maera, was apprenticed to a journalist at the daily prophet. She looked a little shrewd, but I could see the sharp intelligence hidden behind her silly glasses.
And then there was Alakor, the son. He was the youngest and in his second year studying for his master of Transfiguration in Paris. He was… creepy. And I don’t use that word lightly. He smiled at me in a way that made my skin crawl – and I usually don’t judge people until they have shown their true colours. As interesting as living with that family would be, I would NOT stay anywhere that guy would have access to me in any way. Nope, not happening.
When the next person was announced, I blinked. Amelia Bones was one of the few people in the ministry I had actually liked in the books. She worked in the Justice-department and the Wizengamot and was known for her fair ruling and extensive knowledge of the wizarding law. And she had a very wry humour, which endeared her to me quite a bit. She was working about 80 hours a week though, and therefore wouldn’t have much time to teach me anything. Well, we’d see.
After Madam Bones left, Madam Beauregard called for a short break to refill our tea and get some sandwiches. It had been early morning when we had left Hermione’s parents’ house and I startled when I saw it was already four o’clock in the afternoon. Where had the time gone?!
But I had only one more possible guardian to assess before I could finally make a choice – a choice that would change my life considerably and shape the future I could expect; and get some real food into me.
The last ones were not a family at all. They were… a group of students, students of different masteries who apparently all lived together in a cramped townhouse until they would complete their studies in three to five years. They were rambunctious and loud and fun and I snickered a bit at their antics. They were a mix of purebloods and halfbloods, apparently, of various backgrounds. Some names sounded familiar, there was a Nott, a Smith and a Weasley (Bill, probably. When they had introduced themselves, they had talked all over each other so that I couldn’t really glean all their names), but most were unknowns to me.

After they had finally left, most of the guys with winks that did nothing for me but merit a raised eyebrow, Madam Beauregard called an end to our day and led me to a table where food appeared with a plop. After motioning for me to sit she seated herself and took a drink from her wine goblet, before smiling at me. Then she asked: “So, what do you think?”
I cut my potato thoughtfully. “You want me to be tactful or honest?”, I asked bluntly, which brought out a snicker the blonde tried to hide behind her goblet. “Give me blunt, this time.”
I nodded. “Fudge… no. Just… no. He is insensitive, insecure and incompetent. Umbridge… I really have no idea how anyone, herself included, could think her capable of raising and educating a child, much less a muggleborn without prior knowledge of the wizarding world. And she’s pink.”
Now Madam Beauregard snorted as she was unable to suppress her laughter anymore.
“I liked the Jolaneys. They seem like honest, capable people and I am sure I would be able to learn a lot from them.”
Now the blonde nodded and smiled.
“The Malfoys were a surprise. They seem to be nobility or something comparable. Why they would willingly burden themselves with a muggleborn is beyond me. Nevertheless, if it was just the parents, I would jump at the offer in a heartbeat, but their son doesn’t seem to share their convictions to give people like me a chance.”
The witch looked thoughtful now.
“The Wessaters would have probably been in the top two in terms of their ability to teach me. I liked the parents very much; their seeming bluntness coupled with their hidden sneakiness was quite entertaining. As a top-duellist and a security agent slash spy they would probably be able to teach me things beyond my wildest dreams. The daughters were very interesting too. Quite ordinary on the surface, but beneath… Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if they knew as much as or even more than their parents.”
Madam Beauregard’s brows furrowed. “I detect a BUT in there.”
“But”, I continued with a sigh, “I would not live anywhere that left me in a vulnerable position to Alakor. No way, no how.”
The witch grinned. She honestly grinned. I really couldn’t see anything funny there, but hey. To each their own.
“Madam Bones would be a very good choice, I think, but she lives on her own and works long hours, so my education would probably suffer.”
The blonde nodded again.
“The students were fun. I’m pretty sure I would have the happiest memories if I went with them, however, I fear that my education in terms of etiquette and mannerism wouldn’t be what it should.”
The witch smiled proudly. “Accurate assessment”, she commented. Then she turned from the table. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
With that the air around us started to shimmer and Mrs Jolaney, Lucius Malfoy, Mr. Wessater, Madam Bones and one of the students (I thought it was the Smith-girl) came into focus.
I frowned slightly. Obviously the day had been a set-up. Not that I could fault the others, mind you, if I had to take an unknown child into my home, I would like to see them when they thought themselves unobserved. I understood. I was madder at Madam Beauregard. I had come to trust her over the month of our acquaintance, therefore, seeing what felt like a betrayal, hurt.
I wasn’t used to feeling betrayed. In my former life I had had real friends, friends who would have done everything for me, just as I would have done everything for them. Betraying someone’s trust, especially of someone you considered in your care, just wasn’t done. And I had definitely considered myself in HER care.
Obviously, that had been a misconception on my part. I mean, rationally I understood what she had done and why she had done it, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I wouldn’t hold it against her, but I also wouldn’t put my trust in her again.

Chapter Text

The people present seemed to be a bit unnerved by my lack of outward reaction. Mr. Wessater though looked at me in a weird, calculating way and Lucius Malfoy seemed thoughtful.
Mrs. Jolaney seemed the first to work through it and smiled thinly. “Thank you for the assessment, Miss Granger”, she said and nodded in my direction. The (probably) Smith-girl giggled suddenly. “Well, you’re right. We don’t do manners and etiquette.”
Madam Bones also nodded. “Time too was a concern of mine.”
Lucius Malfoy smiled slightly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You are correct about my son; though it would benefit him greatly to get to know a muggleborn such as yourself. If all were like what I have seen of your character, there wouldn’t be such animosity against them.”
I simply nodded, conceding the point. I knew I wasn’t your usual muggleborn. Or… 8 year old. Whatever.
Mr. Wessater smiled too, a bland, impersonal smile one could forget quite easily. I was impressed by the sheer inconspicuousness the man gave of, just by standing there and smiling. I could feel my eyes trying to drift off, my brain trying to tell me he wasn’t important enough to remember… I blinked, shook my head and focused on him. He must be using some kind of charm as I wasn’t usually one to overlook people because of their looks and mannerisms. Intellect, knowledge, ability, talent, deeds… Those were among the things I based my opinion of people on, even though I would readily admit to the power of first impression. And I didn’t, I just didn’t dismiss people I knew nothing about first hand. Still, he didn’t say a word, so I just shrugged.
“What exactly were you trying to accomplish with this little display?”, I asked Madam Beauregard, who now seemed to feel a bit uneasy under my scrutiny. “I mean, I get WHY you did it. But what were you trying to accomplish?”
The blonde seemed to suppress a flinch. “I wanted everyone to go into this arrangement with open eyes”, she answered to which my left eyebrow climbed up my forehead. “Everyone. Like for example… me?”
Now she wasn’t able to hide her wince. “Miss Granger, I don’t think she meant any harm with it”, started Madam Bones, but I silenced her with a wave of my hand. “As I said, I understand her reasoning for doing it, and yours too, by the way. I just wish to know what she and you all were planning to accomplish by it. This wasn’t an action that could start a foundation of mutual trust. I do understand that you are trying to get to know as much about this possible addition to your household as possible in the limited time you get with them. You need to be able to trust the stranger staying under your roof and inside of your wards. But how am I, the one dependent on my future guardians, the one not able to do magic, not able to defend myself if anything untoward would happen, going to start trusting said guardians if they break my trust the very first day we meet?”
All of this I brought forward in a calm, reasonable tone of voice, with a small, noncommittal smile gracing my lips. I had gone into what my colleagues from work had deemed as my “business mode”: being nice and extremely polite, while stating facts and questions with a scathing undertone meant to cut. Madam Bones’ eyebrows nearly met her hairline and she blinked owlishly, obviously not expecting this reply, even though we had talked for quite some time and I had surprised her more than once then. They didn’t know how to react, obviously, so they kept quiet, until Lucius Malfoy let out a long-suffering sigh.
“I would be willing to offer a magically binding contract, Miss Granger, to ensure the safety of everyone concerned. Would that prove satisfactory?”
I nodded. “I will get it proof-read by an independent lawyer of my choice, of course, if you don’t mind”, I commented, while the blond man simply lowered his head slightly in acquiescence.
“It’s… decided then…?”, Madam Beauregard asked, slightly confused, and both me and the head of the Malfoy-family nodded. “He was the only one forthcoming with a solution to our problem, so that settled it”, I couldn’t keep out the sass completely, but didn’t follow up with anything and just got up.
“Ladies, Gentlemen, it was a pleasure to meet you. I hope we will meet again under different circumstances. Madam Beauregard, thank you for the effort you put in to get me acquainted with the wizarding world earlier. Mister Malfoy, I will go get my trunk, then we can go to the Ministry to get the contract underway.“
The Malfoy lifted one corner of his mouth in a mockery of a half-smile and nodded.
“I will proof-read, if this is acceptable to both parties”, Madam Bones offered, which I immediately accepted, so the three of us got our stuff and departed per floo.
I hadn’t used the Floo Network before, having been side-along apparated by Madam Beauregard, but I found it a quite unpleasant experience. I at least knew to take a good lungful of air and speak clearly, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed the journey.

The ministry was… interesting. I stood there and stared at the fountain. “I was honest in wanting to learn about wizarding traditions, but… is this REALLY necessary? Depictions of such a blatant superiority complex breed nothing but discontent, unrest and hate”, I commented quietly, so that only the pair of wizards by my side were able to hear my words.
Madam Bones sighed sadly while Mr. Malfoy only nodded. “We’ll talk about this later.” Now it was my turn to nod and we continued to the Department of Wizarding Law where we sat down with Mr. Malfoy’s personal lawyer in anything Ministry-related. He obviously had others on hand too, but my case seemed to be quite high-profile, so it was to be handled by someone from the Ministry.
Ugh. I didn’t particularly want to be high-profile. I actually wanted to… well… fly under the radar. And… not die. Yes, that would be very much appreciated. But hey, since I knew what was going to happen, that shouldn’t be such a big problem now, should it?
The Lawyer’s name was Durian Kettlebrom. Yes, Durian. I wasn’t sure if he knew there was a particularly stinky fruit by that name, and I wouldn’t offer the information if he didn’t. His assistant was filing something hurriedly in the background, but no one thought to offer his name. Mr. Kettlebrom placed a sheet of parchment in front of me. “This is the standard contract for guardianship, Miss Granger. Please sign on the dotted line.”
I nodded and started reading. It practically declared me as property.
“Unacceptable”, I stated without giving it to Madam Bones and tossed it back onto the table. “I need safety assurances. I need the ability to decide my own fate. This would more or less force me to give up my freedom and my free will, would make me nothing better than a slave. Not a chance this is the standard contract for guardianships. And if it is, there is something seriously wrong with your legislative branch.”
The lawyer looked at me as though I had slapped him. “I am quite proficient with the judicial language, Mr. Kettlebrom. Please don’t take me for a fool. And I just want you to be aware that Madam Bones is going to read through the contract before I sign it as well, she is not just here as a witness.”
He imitated a fish for a few seconds, before he sent a pleading look to the Malfoy, who just sat there with a chilly, noncommittal smile on his lips. The stinky man took another sheet of parchment out of a drawer and pushed it over for me to read. It was far better.
“We need to revise the part about no mental or bodily harm coming to me under their care”, I stated calmly, “and I will not accept the clause about their say in my future marriage.”
Now all present safe Mister Malfoy, who just lifted one eyebrow, imitated owls. “The Malfoys or any of their assigned teachers are going to prepare me for the wizarding world. I am sure that will include some things that are potentially dangerous and damaging. I would like to leave it in there with an added clause that this doesn’t pertain to teaching, training or practicing of any kind, but that any harm coming to me out of this is not to be permanent, if they can in any way avoid it. I also want it added that no one I come into contact with during my subjection to their guardianship is to attempt to influence me in any way, be it by magical means or helped along by potions or whatever other means there are in the wizarding world. They may try to influence my opinion and thinking by talking, showing and explaining things to me as they see fit though.”
Mr. Kattlebrom’s mouth hung open, a look of disbelief on his face. “The decision of whom I am to marry will be entirely my own. They are allowed to advise me, of course, and introduce me to possible suitors, but again, without magical means employed by either them, the suitors or other bystanders. They shall be duty-bound to protect me from magical influence or harm of any kind to the best of their abilities. Don’t you want to start taking notes?”
The lawyer scrambled hectically for parchment and quill to write down what I had just said.
“Anything you want to add, Mister Malfoy?”, I asked with a polite smile. I didn’t know if he had asked his lawyer to give me that contract, but doubted it since he had known about Madam Bones coming as more than just a witness. And I was sure that he would have been able to signal the idiot not to give me that document, had he known about the move.
The blonde took the contract and read it through before nodding. “This contract is acceptable, as are your conditions. I would also like to add one about you educating Draco about the muggle world and their traditions, if this is acceptable to you. I will, of course, be sitting in on some of those lessons, as I do not want him to learn something… unnecessary.
I grinned without humour, more a show of teeth than anything else, but I nodded. It made sense. “This is more than acceptable, Mister Malfoy. Thank you for your open mind. How about we both commit to devise a study schedule that we will compare and discuss, so you will know what I am planning to teach your son, and I will know what kind of lessons to expect?”
He again nodded regally and gave a sign to the lawyer, who seemed to have been busy writing up the revised contract. After three more little amendments from me and two more from Mister Malfoy the contract was ready and Madam Bones picked it up to read. A few minutes later she put it down again. “Perfectly fine, in my opinion. All loopholes seem to be covered, though I still wouldn’t have amended the clause of physical and mental harm. I cannot imagine what you think you will learn at the Malfoys’ that would warrant said amendment. But other than that, I commend you on your understanding of judicial language and fine print, Miss Granger. This was not something I expected of an eight-year-old, even one as mature as you. My house, of course, will always be open to you should you wish for a change in guardianship. And should you ever wish to venture into magical law, I would be honoured if you sought me out for an apprenticeship.”
Finally a real smile stole onto my lips. I really liked this woman. So, I thanked her profusely, before signing the contract, as did Mr. Malfoy after reading through it again and got up to vanish the contract into the ministerial archives, while picking up the two copies for himself and me.
“I thank you, Mister Kettlebrom. Good day.”
I got up too, took my suitcase and followed him to the door, where he turned around once more: “Oh, and Mr. Kettlebrom? You’re fired.” With this he left and I only caught snippets of Madam Bones’ following tirade through the closed door. In there I thought I heard “disciplinary measures”, “endangerment of a minor” and whatnot.
I couldn’t suppress a cold grin.

Chapter Text

“Welcome to Malfoy Manor.”
I tried not to stare. I really did. The house though was enormous. It was built out of blocks of white marble broken only by the occasional silver or greenish vein. There were towers and pillars and engravings and sculptures and statues and a garden masquerading as a park with a lake, two streams, majestic trees, animal topiaries, white peacocks, white deer and… a big, shaggy grey (probably) wolfdog lazing in the last rays of sunshine.
I blinked.
“Isn’t that…”, I started but stilled, as I saw what constituted as a grimace on Mister Malfoy’s face. It wasn’t much more than an exaggerated twitch, quickly quashed, but I had seen enough of the man in the last few hours to understand its significance. And I might have observed him a bit obsessively in those hours.
Maybe.
“That is Brynn”, he offered with a sneer, but that was all. “Brynn…”, I repeated thoughtfully. Obviously, it was the same dog that had lain by the fireplace while I had been introduced to my possible guardians. Weird.
As if knowing we had been talking about it, or just because it had heard its name, the dog’s ear turned into our direction, which was all the acknowledgement we got. “Whatever you do”, the Malfoy said forcefully, “do not feed that thing. You won’t be able to get rid of it otherwise…”
A grin threatened but I suppressed the urge immediately. Seemed like the blonde was talking from experience there. I suddenly had the picture of a desperate Malfoy in my head, trying to close the bathroom door while a whining dog tried to wrestle its way inside.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from snorting out my amusement. That incident had helped me out of my stupor courtesy of the magnificence of the Malfoy-home though, so I was able to follow the blond wizard through the gate without gawking like a little schoolgirl.
…
Wait, I WAS a little schoolgirl.
…
Anyway, we entered the manor. I would have called it a castle, but whatever. Nobody was asking for my opinion. There we were greeted by a house elf that was decidedly NOT Dobby. She looked clean and decently fed, didn’t shiver out of fear and seemed to be quite happy with her lot in life and even smiled.
“Minnie will take Little Miss’ stuff. Just leave it to Minnie.”
I blinked, but didn’t react otherwise and just handed over my suitcase before I followed the Malfoy into what appeared to be his study. “Sit, Miss Granger.” I obeyed the obvious command and looked at him expectantly while he sat in the big chair behind the enormous desk. I won’t even start on the gargantuan size of the study or the sheer endless seeming bookshelves that seemed to call my name.
I had to restrain myself from getting up and stuffing my arms full of them.
“Miss Granger, you are of reasonable intelligence, so I don’t think I need to emphasize that there are rules that are to be followed in a house such as this.”
I nodded.
“Meals will be taken at exactly the same time every day except Sunday. Breakfast is at seven, lunch at twelve and dinner will be served at six. On Saturdays breakfast is at 08:30, on Sunday there will be a buffet for whenever you feel like food.”
I nodded again.
“I will plan out your classes similar to Draco’s, but they will start at eight in the morning and last until a quarter to twelve and from one to three o’clock pm Monday to Friday.”
This time I held up my hand. His eyebrows shot up. “If there is no homework I would like to add two more hours each day, until 5 o’clock. Just until I am en par with Draco knowledge wise. And is it possible to do individual study on Saturday mornings with the availability of someone to ask if there is something I don’t understand? Then I would plan Draco’s muggle-studies for Saturday afternoon. Would that be acceptable?”
The blonde stared at me for a few seconds, before he nodded. “I would also like to do sports in the evenings, mostly running and some drills. If possible I would request an empty room inside as well, in case the weather conditions won’t permit doing it outside.”
Again his eyebrows rose. “Sports aside from Quidditch aren’t popular in the wizarding world, Miss Granger.” I just shrugged to that. “A roman poet once said ‘Mens sana in corpore sano’, meaning that a healthy mind is encouraged by living in a healthy body. I do think the same goes for magic. And it also develops discipline, confidence and character. It would probably help Draco as well, but I invite you to watch my regimen, before you decide on anything.”
His brows furrowed again, but he just nodded. “I’m sure this room can be arranged with any specifics you like to add. I further request your attendance and participation in certain ministry functions, as soon as I can be sure of your grasp on wizarding etiquette. And…”, he hesitated for a second, before he sneered, “as soon as you look presentable. We have to do something about those teeth and this hair of yours.”
He obviously had expected some kind of outcry on my part, but I just nodded.
“And… since you obviously represent the Malfoy name in the public… How attached are you to your name?”
My… name…? I stared at him for a few seconds. He wanted me to change my name?! “To what, exactly? I cannot take on the name of Malfoy; for that you would have to do a legal adoption, which I’m sure you would never do.”
He grimaced. Again, someone who wouldn’t have been watching him had probably overlooked it, but I caught the slight twitch signalling his grimacing. “Let’s talk about this later. Come.”
With this he got up and left the study, me hot on his heels. He showed me the dining room and the door to the family wing, where I was forbidden to enter. I had my own little wing to myself, a longtime-guest wing, sitting between the guest-wing and the family wing. It consisted of six bloody rooms and had a separate entry from the park/garden. I entered the wing through a big double-winged door, and entered a small corridor. Mr. Malfoy first showed me the rooms on the ground floor, a sitting room, a receiving room (I still didn’t really get the difference there) with access to the park/garden and a study. There also was a small bathroom tastefully hidden in a corner. Then there was a narrow spiral staircase hidden behind a bookshelf, over which I reached the quarters that would be exclusively mine. The Malfoy told me that only I and the house elves would have access to those rooms, and he himself, of course, in case of emergencies.
I was pretty glad to hear that.
Up here I found a grand bathroom in polished white marble with a green tint and silver everywhere. Also, as if I needed the hint, I could see engravings of snakes in every corner. That probably went under ‘influence through non-intrusive action’. Oh well, I liked green. And I absolutely LOVED the things these people called tubs. It was more like a small pool, about fifteen meters long and therefore big enough to swim, with selfcleaning features and the possibility of adjusting the temperature without a wand. Apparently one could also make it bubble like a whirlpool. Beside that there was a real bathtub, but made of some kind of soft material that fitted itself to your body, and a whole shelf of bath additives around it. In a corner I found an open shower.
The toilet was hidden again, and more functional than anything else.
Then we entered another study. It seemed like the one downstairs was for entertaining people one was better acquainted with, while the one up here was for my use alone. It was far smaller than the one downstairs, but I preferred this one, there was no competition whatsoever. The wallpaper was green with some tastefully added snake designs, but ended in wooden panels at about chest-height (mine at least). The floor was wooden too, dark and gleaming, but on top of it was a fluffy carpet. The room also had a marble fireplace, but of a dark grey instead of the white I had seen everywhere else, and there were (what else?) snakes engraved in it. Somehow this was really on-the-nose.
Bookshelves lined one whole side of the room and were distributed evenly throughout the rest. There also was a massive desk with a high quality quill and ink well on top and a comfy looking chair. And… some kind of beanbag. I had to look twice. Yes, an actual beanbag. In a pureblood manor. Oh well.
My bedroom was the next room we entered. It wasn’t too big, which was a relief, and everything was made of dark wood, even the floor. Only the carpet was dark green. The bed was big (the bedding, surprise, dark green), yes, the wardrobe was enormous too, and there was another desk and chair and a bookshelf, filled with the books I had packed. There also was a rocking chair on a probably magically protected balcony. But it wasn’t overly grand. Thank the heavens.
My suitcase stood beside the bed, opened and empty. Without asking Mr. Malfoy went to my wardrobe and opened it, critically inspecting my clothes. I didn’t complain though. I knew he had to make sure I wouldn’t embarrass his family when venturing out. When I had packed, I had only packed stuff I really liked, and Hermione’s parents had bought me a few new things, so the clothes reflected what I liked. It was mostly black, grey, brown, dark green, dark red, dark blue, petrol and terracotta, very earthy colours, since those were the ones I liked best. I didn’t do bright.
“Those will be acceptable for the moment, but we will have to go shopping for robes soon”, the blonde commented and I just nodded. What else could I do anyway? And I really looked forward to wearing wizarding robes and blending in with the purebloods.
I suppressed a snicker. That would go over well…
“It is too late for a full meal, but I will have Minnie bring up some sandwiches and tea for you. Get settled in, your education will start tomorrow”, the Malfoy stated calmly, to which I couldn’t hide my enthusiastic smile. “I’m looking forward to it, Sir!”

Chapter Text

The bath was as amazing as I had thought it to be. I had spent two full hours in the bath, first swimming endless rounds, then using the ledgers on the side to comfortably sit inside my private whirlpool. Afterwards I had slid into a bed that felt like heaven. As much as I liked living rough, living out of a small backpack for weeks and sleeping on the ground outside, I could also very much appreciate the luxury this longterm-guest-wing provided. It was mine, mine, mine. My hideout from everything I would be trying to avoid, my nook to study, to practice… I already planned to annihilate the sitting room and remodel it into some kind of practice-field or brewery or something. Something useful, at least. The receiving room would have to double as a sitting room. And I still didn’t know the difference. But hey.
The next morning I was awoken by a bloody gong a house elf rang directly inside of my room.
I groaned.
“Little Miss, Minnie is terribly sorry, but it is six o’clock and if Little Miss wants to get ready before breakfast, Little Miss needs to get up now…”
I groaned again. Six. Breakfast started at seven, so I could have slept for another half hour. Oh well. Might as well.
“Minnie, for the future, I don’t need more than 30 minutes to get ready. If you could wake me up at six thirty that would be absolutely perfect”, I grumbled, trying to be polite despite the early hour and the ringing in my ears, which was hard. I definitely wasn’t a morning person.
She nodded eagerly and plopped away.
Finally some peace and quiet. After brushing my teeth, showering and getting dressed I left my luxurious nest and retraced my steps from yesterday to the dining room.
There I saw Narcissa Malfoy already sitting, reading a newspaper while sipping on a cup of tea.
“Good morning, Mrs Malfoy.”
She gave me a look before folding down the papers and sending me a surprisingly warm smile. “Good morning, Miss Granger. Sit down, please. Tea?”
I sat down mutely and waited for the teapot to fly over to where I sat and fill my cup. “Have you slept well? I know the first night in a new bed is not the most refreshing for some people.”
I smiled at her. I really started to like her. “You don’t have to worry, Madam, I have slept perfectly well. My rooms are amazing, thank you very much for letting me stay there.” She simply nodded before taking another dainty sip of tea. Damn, that woman had manners.
“Since you are to live in our house, what do you think about calling my husband and me by our given names? We would in turn also call you Hermione, if this is acceptable to you.”
I blinked, not having expected that offer, but jumped at it nonetheless. I mean… calling the Malfoys ‘Lucius’ and ‘Narcissa’?! Hell yeah! Instead of jumping around giddily and pumping my fist in triumph, like I wanted to, I smiled politely and inclined my head in a grateful nod. “That would be very much appreciated, Narcissa. I hope you won’t hold it against me though if I keep calling you Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy in public for the time being.”
A twinkle entered her eyes. “I would have suggested this too, had I not thought it offending to you, Hermione. For all our sakes.”
We shared twin smiles of understanding, before I tried to mimic her gracefulness in taking a sip of tea, which… well… didn’t work nearly as well as I had hoped. I had really good manners, especially for an eight year old muggleborn, that was a given, but I lacked the effortless grace and nobility conceivable in every move Narcissa made and every single word she spoke.
I wanted that though.
“Do you know any details about the study plan Lucius has devised?”, I asked, hopeful to see lessons in mannerism with her in it, but she just delicately shook her head. “I am sorry, Hermione, but my husband has been quite secretive about it, even around Draco and myself. But we won’t have to wait for much longer, I think.”
As if on cue the door opened and Lucius entered, followed by his sneering mini-me. And yes, I still didn’t like the git any better.
“You are sitting on my chair, mudblood!”, he ground out through his teeth, which got him a horrified “Draco!” of his mother’s, and a grinding of teeth of the head of house.
I, in turn, just smiled. I had expected this.
“You know, Draco… I don’t really get why this word is used as an insult. You DO know that life originated in mud, right? So what you’re basically saying is that what flows through my veins is life itself, and that I am where you come from, your origin. It’s actually quite a compliment, if you think about it.”
Three blondes stared at me in different stages of astonishment. Narcissa looked as if I had just declared tea not befitting of a lady, Lucius’ features had trouble arranging themselves into the form they were used to, and Draco just stood there, gasping for air, while his head got redder and redder.
“Please breathe”, I advised with a polite smile, “I don’t want to be responsible for the suffocation of the Malfoy heir.” Then my grin turned evil. “Too much paperwork.”
Narcissa’s laughter pearled through the dining room, but even in mirth she managed to look elegant and graceful. I really needed to learn her secret. Like… soon.
Lucius cleared his throat and waved for a cup of tea, before he snarled at his son: “Oh, do sit down, Draco!”
The little blondie just fell into an unoccupied seat. “But father…!”, he whined but his words fell on deaf ears. “Miss Granger is a guest in this house, son, you would do well to remember the code of hospitality. And I would advise you not to antagonize her, for she will be your teacher Saturday afternoons.”
Now the youngest Malfoy looked a bit green. “HER???”, he screeched, before adding: “but it’s SATURDAY! We NEVER have class on Saturdays!”
One of my eyebrows rose, but I kept quiet. The little tick in Lucius’ left eyelid was too fascinating to watch.
“And what would she be able to teach me anyway?! She is just a mudblood!!!”
I shook my head with an exaggerated sigh, but still kept quiet while Narcissa hid her lips behind a napkin. Very ladylikely, I have to add.
“Yes, Draco, her. I haven’t yet spoken to her about the subjects she will teach you, but I will not have you on a disadvantage knowledgewise when compared to the muggleborns you will encounter in Hogwarts. And just so you know, SHE requested two additional hours of teaching per day AND supervised individual study on Saturday morning. And she didn’t whine ONCE.” The last sentence was said with a very hard undertone, which I could easily interpret as ‘She’s acting more like a pureblood than you are’.
I just smiled noncommittally, but when I saw the vein pulsing on Lucius’ forehead, I decided to give him a helping hand. “Just imagine, Draco, two muggleborns sharing an inside joke about you and you not even understanding that they’re laughing about you. On the other hand, imagine yourself understanding the quip and giving back even better, showing your knowledge and understanding of everything muggle, but still having an even broader horizon, because you know the world of purebloods as well. Wouldn’t that be far better, and earn you recognition from people of every blood status as an added bonus?”
Narcissa looked impressed, Lucius’ eyebrows had climbed to ‘till now unimaginable heights, and Draco… Draco looked thoughtful.
“Just imagine how easy everyone would be fooled and manipulated if you were one of the few actually knowing the best and worst of both worlds…”
Yes, I could be a manipulative asshole sometimes. And no, I was really not surprised when internet-tests unerringly sorted me into Slytherin. I was a serpent through and through; and proud of that fact. Which… would make things interesting once I went to Hogwarts. A muggleborn in the house of the serpent? Who had ever heard of THAT happening? Maybe I could blame living with the Malfoys for a few years…
Or maybe the canon would win out and I would have to go to Gryffindor, just because. Or maybe my love of reading would let me persuade the hat to let me be an eagle…? I doubted it, but one should never give up hope. It was crystal clear to me that the seven years of Hogwarts would be hell if I actually had to go through them as a Slytherin with everyone knowing about my blood status. Even if I acted like one of them. And my case was high profile, unfortunately, so no pretending to be a halfblood or whatever.
Draco’s grudging nod in my direction brought me out of my musings. He had actually accepted me as his teacher. Oh my. I hadn’t expected it to be quite that easy.
“Now to your education, Miss Granger, I have written out your timetable for the foreseeable future. If you could just go over it so we can discuss anything you’re not satisfied with”, Lucius drawled while handing me a sheet of parchment.
Monday started out with two hours of Wizarding History and two hours of Pureblood Etiquette. Actually, now that my eyes took in the rest of the week, every day started like this. Yay. But hey, I had wanted this. I just had to remind myself of that every day I would have to practice standing, sitting, walking, talking, eating, drinking, BREATHING…
The afternoons were a bit more diverse. Mondays I had two hours of Magical Theory and two hours of “Magical Core”, whatever that was all about. Tuesdays I had two hours of Wizarding Politics and two hours of Magical Basics. Wednesdays I had two hours of Latin and two hours of Wizarding Law. Wizarding Law! A grin threatened. Thursdays I had Old English and Wizarding Literature. That sounded really cool too. Fridays I had four hours of Flora and Fauna of the Wizarding World. All in all the timetable did sound really good. I would have to see to which level Latin had to be learned, I was pretty proficient in it by now, far better than I had been after graduating. So maybe I would be able to let it go in a few months and learn something else instead. Like… actual magic maybe.
Draco, who had read over my shoulder, harrumphed. “Bone dry all of that. Thank Merlin I don’t have to follow this.”
I blinked, surprised he was actually talking to me in a civil manner, before I answered: “That bad, huh? What’s yours?”
He didn’t have his with him, obviously, but he knew it by heart. He had to endure etiquette lessons as well, but also estate management. He also had two hours of politics. Latin and Old English he had to take too, but only for one hour per week. One whole afternoon was dedicated to Flying, obviously his favourite subject. All in all, his timetable sounded WAY more relaxed than mine did, but I also missed a certain basic education. No Maths, English, Geography, Biology, Arts, Physics, Chemistry… nothing. Where had he learned to read and write anyway? I decided not to ask just now, though, and would wait for my meeting with Lucius to discuss this.
I was also really curious about who my teachers would be…

Instead of starting my lessons immediately, Lucius had decided to give me the day off, since it was Friday already and… he hadn’t actually acquired any teachers yet. Not surprising, since my move here had been quite sudden. He had decided however, to teach Wizarding Politics himself, and let Narcissa handle Pureblood Etiquette.
I then decided to raise the question of Draco’s general education: “Why has Draco no classes in Reading, Writing, Literature, Mathematics, Geography, Physics and other core subjects? As I understand it, they aren’t taught in Hogwarts either. Does his schedule alternate regularly?”
Lucius was quiet for a few moments, while looking at me with a stony face. I got the feeling he was quite stunned. “Wizarding children are expected to learn what they need for themselves”, he answered, though the sole wrinkle on his forehead told me I had gotten him thinking. “And does he? Learn those subjects for himself? Or… did you?”
The blonde hesitated for a moment, before staring at me and slowly shaking his head. “No.” It sounded… disbelieving. Obviously, this opinion had been ingrained into him without critical thought. Maybe it was a leftover part of some idiotic, now forgotten pureblood tradition everyone followed with no one daring to do something about it.
Oh well.
“Is it okay then if I start Draco’s muggle education with English orthography, grammar and syntax, then followed by basic Mathematics and afterwards alternating between other subjects? Just until I’m sure he has a good grasp on everything?”
Lucius’ left eyelid started twitching again, though I didn’t understand why. I was actually trying to help his git of a son, so he shouldn’t be angry with me.
Finally, he got himself back under control and leaned back into his chair. “This is acceptable, Miss Granger. If you wish so, you are free to use the library anytime, but I have to excuse myself now, your future teachers won’t contact themselves.”
Library? I was allowed to use the Malfoy library?! I was pretty sure my eyes were as big as saucers and had little stars sparkling inside of them. Lucius didn’t comment though and simply showed me the door.
He hadn’t adapted to calling me Hermione when it was just the two of us and I followed his lead. We called each other by our first names only when either Narcissa or Draco was around. Everything else had felt just… weird.
Anyway, the library was waiting. I had the whole weekend stretched out before me and I should probably do some light reading to prepare for my classes. Narcissa was kind enough to help me locate >Hogwarts. A History< and some introductory books to ten of my eleven subjects (she said she wanted my mind to be “fresh” when she started teaching me), though I immediately put the books for Latin back. They were seriously ridiculous.
So, I had nine subjects to prepare for. Wizarding History was such a wide topic that I put it aside for the time being. The book on Magical Theory though I practically inhaled. There were so many different theories! Narcissa had mindfully chosen a general introduction that covered most of the popular theories on the origins and movements of magic, and that also talked about the problem of muggleborns for the magical society and cores of the future magical community. It was immensely interesting.
I then started on the introduction to Magical Cores. It was more a booklet than an actual book though, and in it I found a guide to doing… what I had unknowingly been doing for the last few months. Meditating and trying to feel one’s core. Nice! Fanfiction-authors for the win!
For Wizarding Politics I had gotten a book about the different factions apparent in the government, and a chart of the departments in the ministry of magic, as well as their areas of responsibility and how they were all interconnected. It was definitely good to know.
The light reading for Magical Basics was a bit more complicated. Narcissa had given me several books about the basics of every magical art imaginable. There was wand art, wandless art, runic art, ritualistic art, mind art, artefact art, the art of the substances (here my first thought had gone in the direction of drugs, but it was actually about the agents found in plants, animals and non-organic matter)… There were fourteen books about Magical Basics alone, so I put them next to the pile for Wizarding History.
I took up the three books on Wizarding Law next. It was some history, some legal scripts and some protocols of exemplary hearings. Nothing definite, obviously, but a good place to start – even if the texts were quite dry.

I had just started on the book on law history, when the sound of that bloody gong directly beside my ear made my heart nearly stop.
“Little Miss, Minnie is terribly sorry, but it is 11:45 and if Little Miss wants to eat lunch, Little Miss needs to get to the dining room now…”
One hand pressed over my still stuttering heart, breath coming out in shallow puffs, eyes huge, I stared at the little creature that would probably be responsible for me finding myself in an early grave.
“Could you… maybe… you know… just SAY something and not use that gong when I’m actually AWAKE already?!”, I asked, with a slight edge to my voice. Yes, that little thing got on my nerves. Extremely. Hopefully I would be able to train it better. Train it NOT to try to inadvertently kill me. That would be nice.
The house elf’s eyes grew bigger and big, fat tears started to fall from its googlies before it started wailing: “Minnie… Minnie is SO sorry, Miss…! Minnie will go and punish herself immediately!”
Argh!
“No… Minnie, STOP!”
The elf froze midstep, while still crying and sniffling pitifully. I had to suppress an annoyed sigh. “No need to punish yourself, Minnie. Just… please keep in mind not to use the gong on me when I am already awake. You can talk to me or touch me to get my attention. Just… don’t use the gong aside from the wake-up call in the morning. Please.”
The elf’s tears had stopped and it stared at me incredulously before breaking into an impossibly wide smile, showing off its very, very sharp teeth. I gulped. “Thank you, Little Miss, thank you!!!”, it squeaked, before plopping off giddily. I stared after it and just shook my head. Weird creatures, those house elves.
Sighing (again) I made my way to the dining room, where Lucius was already sitting, reading some letters and drinking a cup of tea. When he heard me entering, he put the letters down and smiled wolfishly. “Miss Granger.”
I smiled back. “Mister Malfoy.”
I sat down opposite him and waited. He obviously had something to tell me.
“I have found some teachers for you.”
Immediately my back straightened and my attention honed in on his following words. “I thought there was no one better to teach Wizarding Law than a Law Witch you already know. Madam Bones already confirmed her willingness to teach you once a week.” I couldn’t have suppressed the bright, giddy smile, even if I had wanted to. I really liked her, that class would prove amazing, of that I was sure.
“For Old English and Wizarding History I have managed to snare the most competent person I could find, even though I don’t really share his values.” Lucius looked as if he had bitten into a lemon and found it even worse than expected. Who had he found, though? “His name is Nicholas Flamel. He is…” He stopped talking and stared at me with a surprised expression. It took me a moment to realize that my facial features must have shown exactly what I had been thinking. Oops. I really needed to work on that. But still, NICHOLAS FLAMEL??? The one who had created the Philosopher’s Stone? The… over-600-year-old Flamel? Like… the friend-of-Dumbledore Flamel?!
“THE Nicholas Flamel…?”, I asked hesitantly, thanking all heavens that Narcissa had given me a copy of so I had an excuse for the knowledge I had inadvertently betrayed. I REALLY needed to work on my poker face.
“Yes”, Lucius nodded with the attempt of a not-quite-there shrug, “THE Nicholas Flamel.”
I opened my mouth, but closed it again immediately. I had no idea what I could have said to that. Lucius took my silence as acquiescence. “Wizarding Literature will be taught by Doretha Zabini. Her son is the same age as you and Draco, I think we should introduce you to him. The right friends will do much for you in the future.”
Ah, Blaise’s mother. I was really looking forward to meeting THAT particular man eater… I had read about her killing at least six of her previous husbands – and men were still knocking down her door.
…
Or was that Fanfiction-Canon?
Damn, sometimes it was really hard to distinguish.
“For Magical Theory I have decided on Corban Yaxley and Augusta Longbottom. Besides being experts in this field, they represent two contrary popular theories concerning muggleborns you will most definitely encounter in the near future. I want you to be prepared. Yaxley will also be responsible for your education in Latin. Madam Longbottom also has a grandson your age, but of what I have heard of the boy, I would advise you not to associate with him, even though he is of pure blood.”
I just nodded. Maybe Neville wouldn’t be as bad, if I could give him some courage (after miraculously landing in Gryffindor, of course, however I was going to manage THAT). Yeah, fat chance, I knew.
“Darren Selwyn will be your teacher for Magical Core. Please be aware that I will follow your progress in that class very closely, for it will determine much in terms of job and marital prospects.” I nodded. Hopefully, I hadn’t done too bad in my exercises of meditation and attempts to control my magic and it would actually be helpful for this class. It would not do to suck at this, it seemed. Not that I planned to suck at ANY of my classes. I was too much of a Ravenclaw for that.
“For Magical Basics I have decided to do the introduction, overview and maybe one of the arts myself and then get a special teacher for each magical art, one who is particularly knowledgeable in that special department.”
I nodded my understanding. I had seen what Magical Basics consisted of. And those fourteen books had just been the introduction to the different arts. No one could have mastery in more than maybe two or three of those.
“I haven’t found someone to fill Flora & Fauna yet though”, Lucius said while looking distinctly… grumpy. If one could read his expression correctly. He obviously wasn’t very happy about the fact that he hadn’t been able to acquire a teacher for that particular subject. “I have my eye on someone. The best. He isn’t the easiest to work with and doesn’t really have much patience, so if I manage to get him, my advice to you would be to always be prepared.”
That sounded… ominous. But the Malfoys were contract-bound to protect me against all harm to the best of their abilities, so… it couldn’t be TOO bad, right?
…
Right???

Chapter Text

After lunch I had initially planned to go back to my books, but the Malfoys had other plans. Draco was ecstatic to be able to skip his afternoon lessons to go… shopping.
Shopping, of all things!
Oh well, I really needed a wizarding wardrobe. And I was hoping for some books and maybe one of those wands children could play with. They were ridiculously expensive but helped magical children to get a feel for their magic. Draco owned three different ones, of course.
So, I packed the money I (or rather, Hermione) had saved, which was quite a bit, and put on my most wizarding looking clothes consisting of a flowing black, asymmetrical black skirt and a black blouse with bronze-coloured lace. I paired this with black woollen tights (since it WAS quite cold outside) and soft flat black leather boots with bronze accents that reached to mid-calf. I couldn’t do anything about my jacket though, so I chose a brownish-bronze blazer to go with it.
When I came out, the Malfoys looked me over critically, before Narcissa declared that the blazer had to go. After, she shrank one of her own overcoats. It was black and of the finest felted wool I had ever touched. It fell elegantly to my ankles, the sleeves started out fitting around my upper arms and ending in a wide bell so only my fingers were showing, the collar was equally wide and… fluffy. There was no other way to describe it. It simply was FLUFFY.
“Much better”, declared Narcissa and nodded, satisfied with her choice. I was too. I really didn’t really care much for my clothes, as long as they weren’t bright like children’s crayons, but even I had to admit that I looked far more… witchy in her coat. I hid my grin in the big, fluffy collar. Slowly I was getting a bit excited for the trip. Somehow I would be able to drag them into a bookshop. I just knew it.

Lucius held out his arm to me, while Draco did the same for his mother, and after a plop and a really, REALLY uncomfortable journey that felt like several minutes but had actually lasted for about two seconds, we reappeared in what appeared to be a waiting room of an office out of Victorian times. I looked around with raised eyebrows. It was rather dark and all furnishings were made of dark wood. The six armchairs in it were covered with dark, heavy brocade with the same pattern as the curtains that shut out the meagre sunlight. Instead there were several small, but eerily bright fires burning in some kind of floating bubbles, about the size of both of my fists combined. The walls were covered in bookshelves overflowing with volumes over volumes about… beauty? What the…

“Ah, Mrs. Malfoy! Mr. Malfoy! How lovely to see you!”
I blinked. The man entering the room was clad in dark blue and gold brocade, far too heavy for my taste, but it kind of suited the old-world-charm the man emitted. His black, wavy hair was long and tied back at the nape, just like Lucius’ was; his face was a picture of sharp angles and soft, full lips combined with lashes so dark and long, they just couldn’t be natural. His piercing blue eyes sparkled and his smile revealed teeth so even and blindingly white, that I thought I had stepped into the wrong movie.
“And you must be Draco. You look just like your father, young man, just like your father!”
I could tell that Draco wasn’t feeling entirely comfortable in that strange man’s vicinity, but he behaved befitting a pureblood heir. A shallow bow showed he considered the man beneath his station, but still eligible of his respect, and his smile was polite, if still quite a bit shy of friendly.
“And you… you must be the famed Miss Granger. The… muggleborn…”
By the way he said and looked me over appraisingly, I immediately knew that he was no friend of people like me. Asshole.
I immediately slipped into my Slytherin-persona and regally inclined my head, just enough not to be considered rude. I might have no idea about pureblood etiquette, but I was very well educated in the muggle discipline. They couldn’t be THAT different. “Yes Sir, that is indeed my name. However, I would advise you not to use a tone like this with a Malfoy ward, especially not if the whole family is in the same room and after you just showed a particular lack of manners by not introducing yourself to their heir. So… who do I have the dubious pleasure of meeting?”
The man just stared. His eyes bounced from my politely inquiring expression to Lucius’ stony façade that looked… even more stony than usual. Narcissa was patting her lips again and Draco’s mouth seemed somehow twisted, but not in a sneer… suddenly I realized he was trying not to laugh. And that Narcissa was hiding her smirk. And Lucius? Well. At the moment even I couldn’t tell what went on behind those stormy grey eyes.

The dude gulped and seemed to shake off his stupor, before bowing slightly and introducing himself with an obviously forced smile: “My name is Doctor Mortimer Febrae. It’s… a… pleasure to meet you.”
He seemed to nearly choke on the word . Narcissa turned away to avidly study the really boring pattern adorning the curtains and Draco pressed his lips together, clearly from trying to keep his mirth inside. Lucius seemed to resemble a stone more every second.

“I… uhm…”, Febrae flaundered, before trying his hardest to get himself under control again. Bloody hell, I wasn’t THAT confusing! Maybe it was unusual for an eight-year-old to speak and act the way I did, but I couldn’t be THAT different from normal pureblooded children, right? Most should be arrogant and eloquent. Maybe it was because I was a muggleborn? I really had to talk to Lucius about that. Or… maybe not. Draco would be a safer bet.
Febrae coughed and cleared his throat. “Please come this way, Miss Granger, so we can start the procedure.”
Procedure? What procedure?! Behind the man Draco inconspicuously touched his hair and lips while giving me a certain look.
Oooooh!
“Of course, Mr. Febrae. I would ask for Mrs. Malfoy to accompany me though, she is far more knowledgeable in everything concerning style and what pleases the eye than I am. She will also know what is fashionable for a young witch such as I. Would you do me that favour, Madam?”
Narcissa gracefully inclined her head in acquiescence and followed us into the next room.

Bloody hell. I had just insulted the man who in a few minutes would be pointing his bloody wand at my face. Very well done, you idiot! Thankfully Narcissa had been willing to help me out of my predicament and place herself as a shield between Febrae and me with her presence. He wouldn’t dare do anything nefarious while she was there.

“Please, lie down, Miss Granger, and open your mouth”, he instructed me and pointed to a padded lounger. I did as he asked and waited patiently for him to come over, motioning for me to open my mouth.
“Oh Merlin!”, he exclaimed in mock horror, but Narcissa’s impatient voice seemed to keep his planned tirade in check. “Yes. We only want the crookedness corrected, nothing else. I hope you are up to the task, Mr. Febrae, otherwise we’ll have to take our business elsewhere…”
Her meaning was clear: Do anything untoward and he would never see any of the Malfoys and probably none of their friends ever again. His eyes widened a fraction and he cleared his throat again. He seemed to be doing that a lot. After this he started weaving his wand in a complicated pattern over my face, while mumbling something incoherently.

It felt… It felt… It was a really weird sensation, but it seemed as if he had loosened all my teeth somehow. Creepy, actually. Then he got a bluish potion from the nearby shelf and let six drops fall onto my teeth, one each on the upper and lower front, the upper and lower left and the upper and lower right. After two seconds I had lost all feeling in my gums. Thankfully I could still move my tongue. Small mercies…

I really hated not feeling what people did in my mouth, which was why I detested all dentists. They were evil. Maybe that was why I just hadn’t gotten along with Hermione’s parents.

Now Febrae very carefully began to maneuver my teeth around, settling them where he wanted them and fixating them somehow until every single one was where it should be. He then waved his wand around again, probably to completely set and fixate them, though I couldn’t feel anything. Bloody potion.
He then gave me a glass of water mixed with six drops of something reddish to rinse my mouth, after which the feeling thankfully returned to my gums, though it tasted like shit smelled. Literally. Yikes.
I spit it out as soon as Febrae motioned for me to do so. I tried my best to act dignified about it and to not heave, but I wasn’t sure I had accomplished to suppress the disgusted grimace altogether. Narcissa gave me a glass of water to rinse afterward and a piece of chocolate to get rid of the taste.

And there I realized something horrific: I didn’t like wizarding chocolate.
It was by far too sweet for my taste, but I ate it anyway, just to get rid of that potion’s taste. Everything must be better than that.

Febrae then held a mirror in front of my face. Even after months of seeing this face in the mirror, I still couldn’t get entirely used to the way I looked now. I tried to ignore the weird feeling in my stomach and smiled at my mirror-me. My teeth were all straight and spaced evenly. They weren’t freakishly white like the beautician’s, but he still must have done something about their colour, for they seemed a bit lighter than before too. It was… really good work, actually.

“Thank you, Mr. Febrae, you did really good work there”, I stated truthfully, what seemed to throw him off-kilter even more than my arrogance had before. Then I smiled. “I might not like you personally, but I can see now why Mrs. Malfoy chose your practice to right my teeth. If I ever need anything else or have to recommend someone of your profession, I will think of you first.”
He glowed, as if a really high-ranking official had given him a compliment and not an eight-year-old muggleborn. That’s what confidence and good (though slightly mean) rhetoric got you in the wizarding world, it seemed. And, of course, a wealthy and powerful pureblood family watching your back.

“Miss Granger…”, my eyebrows lifted questioningly when he said my name, completely lacking the contempt and vitriol of just minutes before, “if you would allow me to gift you this hair oil…”
He then gave me a sealed glittering vial and picked up another one that had been opened already and was half emptied. “Some advice: Do not brush out your hair after washing it and use oils to smooth it out. If you ever need hair perfectly coiffed, use this oil, it will make your hair perfectly manageable.”
With this he let a few drops fall into his hands and started combing his fingers through my hair, which I let him do after being quite a bit startled initially.

“There”, he said smugly, “MUCH better.”

When we were finally ready to leave the beautician’s practice I breathed a sigh of relief. I hated fussing about the way I looked. Formerly, if I had had a bad hair day, I would have just put it up and left it like that. Actually, that’s what I had done most of the time because I couldn’t be bothered to do more with it. I had to admit that I was glad about the teeth, but the shiny soft waves I suddenly sported on my head I couldn’t care less about.
Unfortunately I had to represent the Malfoy name, so I probably would have to up my beauty routine from now on.
Bummer.

Lucius looked me over when we came out of the backroom and nodded appreciatively. “With proper schooling and our political and monetary backing you will be a boon in the wizarding marital market in the future”, he commented with a conniving tone of voice and I made a face. “I am only eight years old, Mr. Malfoy”, I reminded him dryly, “please don’t start planning out my future job prospects and marital alliances before I am at least a teenager…”
Draco snorted behind me, which earned him a sharp look of his father’s. I curiously had started to kind of like the git a bit. However that had happened in the short amount of time we had known each other, I had no idea. Usually I took a bit longer to warm up to people, but the Malfoys were… interesting, somehow.
Lucius then held out his arm for me again, while Draco did the same for his mother, and we disapparated (finally) into Diagon Alley.

Chapter Text

We appeared in the Malfoy’s private apparition-spot, Draco gleefully informed me, a luxurious apartment with three en suite bedrooms, one living room, one dining room, a kitchen, a library and a medium sized study, which was staffed with two house elves – one to keep the place clean and one to apparate all purchases back to the apparition point, whenever one of the family decided it was time for a shopping trip.
I… wasn’t even surprised that the luxurious apartment was only used for an apparition-spot and the occasional night out. It belonged to the Malfoys, after all.

When we left (through the door, for once), Lucius turned around and started waving his wand around, pointing to me every once in a while. “Put your hand here”, he then instructed and showed me a knothole in the wooden door. I blinked. “Why?” The question may have sounded more suspicious than I had intended, but the older blonde didn’t seem to take it personally. “I need to key your magical signature into the wards, so you will be able to use this spot on your own too.”

Oh. That made sense.

The wood seemed to shimmer under my palm before becoming soft and encasing my fingers in a warm embrace. Then a little shock went through me and I could feel something inviting settle over me like a cloak and hugging me like a mother would her lost child.
It was the weirdest feeling I had had as of yet. Weirder even than apparition and travelling by portkey or floo. And that was EXTREMELY weird.
I didn’t comment though, when Lucius just nodded and started walking, Narcissa on his arm, Draco and me trailing behind, looking disinterestedly into window displays and me trying my hardest not to look like a clueless little muggle girl on her first trip to Diagon. Which I essentially was. Still, I had an image to adhere to.
Our first stop was Gringotts, where the Malfoys were greeted with surprising respect and I was eyed by every creature present like a weird curiosity. Not that I didn’t stare back, I just tried to make it more inconspicuous. The goblins’ exterior was very interesting. They were smaller than humans, about my momentary height, to be exact. The tones of their wrinkly, leathery skin varied from bronze to dirty brown to blackish, their noses were quite prominent and hawklike, their eyes beady and with a yellow sheen. Some had hair, but it was straggly and oily looking. One of the goblins smiled at me dangerously and displayed two rows of perfectly even, wicked-looking shark teeth. I didn’t even shudder, I just felt the curious urge to smile back and wink at him, which… was what I did then. He looked like he had seen a ghost wearing a pink fedora afterwards.

Lucius steered us to one of the Goblins and demanded to see a Mr. Goldfang, probably his account manager. He was let through immediately. The Malfoys had quite a good standing here, obviously.
We were led into a back office, where an old goblin sat, whose teeth were… well… made of gold.
I had to suppress a weird grin. Gold was a rather soft material. I hoped (for his sake) that the metal was magically reinforced.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Goldfang”, the eldest Malfoy greeted, “may your day be prosperous.” The goblin smiled and answered: “Mr. Malfoy. May your gold flow freely.”
I blinked. That wasn’t the greeting I remembered from the books. Or Fanfictions, for that matter.
“What can I do for you?”, the goblin then asked in a rather amical, friendly tone that implied years of mutually beneficial dealings between the two. Lucius sat down without invitation and we all followed his example. “I would like to open an account for my ward here. Her name is Hermione Granger.”

An account? For me?! I blinked a bit confused. I hadn’t known Lucius was aware of the money I had squandered away, but it was hardly enough to warrant a whole vault. If that was to be used synonymous to account.

I definitely didn’t know enough about the inner workings of the wizarding banking system.

The goblin eyed me with an interested spark in his eyes. “An account for Miss Granger…”, he murmured before shuffling around with some sheets of parchment and scribbling something down. “Specifics?”
“The same as Draco’s school account.”
Uhm… wait a second. The same as Draco’s school account?! I had lost all composure and stared at the blonde with an expression surely not suitable for someone of my momentary station, but I was unable to control my features. Lucius ignored my lapse of composure. “The monthly allowance of one hundred galleons is to be taken from vault 874. Thirty galleons are to be available in a theft-secure wallet at the first of each month; seventy are to be used on school supplies and books only and will only be given out if the receipt is placed in it in exchange. The money not used each month is to be placed in two different compartments in vault 912 with the same specifics if she wishes to save up for a bigger purchase.”

I’m pretty sure I was imitating a fish on land now, until Draco’s elbow brought me out of my stupor. I started to say something, but the younger Malfoy shot me a look and just shook his head.

Okay then.

It was weird, I felt like a kept woman, not a cherished ward. But now that I thought about it, I WAS their ward. If they didn’t give me money it would probably make them seem… less in the eyes of the public somehow. I was their way of flaunting their riches and generosity to the rest of wizarding society.
Oh bloody hell. I would just have to accept it, it seemed.
Now that I thought about it, it WAS a really good opportunity. Artefacts, books, potions ingredients… My smile grew before I got myself under control again and put my arrogant couldn’t-care-less mask on again.
The goblin haggled a bit with the family patriarch before finally settling and drawing up a contract for the three of us to sign. He then handed me a bag with two compartments – one was filled with golden coins and one was empty, awaiting receipts, probably.
“One more thing”, Lucius then added when everything seemed to be done, “I have a proposition for Silverclaw, should he be interested.”
With this he handed over a letter, sealed with the Malfoy crest, and nodded his goodbye. “May your gold never run out.”
The goblin nodded back and smiled his scary smile. “May your vaults never be empty.”
With this we all got up and left one after the other – first Lucius, then Narcissa, then Draco and lastly me. Before I left completely though, I turned around and smiled at Goldtooth. “Thank you, sir, your help was greatly appreciated.” I then curtsied quickly and left the glaring goblin behind.

I had money.
I had some SERIOUS money.

I hadn’t actually known how much the amount of one hundred galleons was worth, but after staring at price tags at Madam Malkin’s I was sure I would have a small fortune at hand when I actually got to go to Hogwarts in about three years. I was living at the manor for free, they were paying for my food and clothes, I was allowed to use their library… I would only need the money for additional books, ingredients and other stuff, and I seriously doubted that would make a big dent in my allowance.
Maybe I really would be able to buy one of those children’s practice wands in a few months!
Narcissa and Madam Malkin were discussing styles, cuts, colours and fabrics while I stood there and let them take my measurements and hold out different fabrics to my face. Thankfully I had Narcissa with me; I would have been lost otherwise. She knew exactly what complimented my complexion, what cut would flatter my figure, which fabric was best for which style and whatnot. Yeah. Thank Merlin for Narcissa. Although she was very… thorough. After one agonizingly long hour we left the shop having placed an order for the staggering amount of 2600 galleons. Jeesh! Of course, only the best for the Malfoys. Best fabric, extravagant cuts, and Narcissa obviously wanted to fill two of my rooms with clothes. Yay.
Thankfully, they would grow with me, when my body would finally decide to up my height. So that was a relief, at least.

We neared Flourish & Blott’s. My steps slowed down considerably, but thankfully it seemed to be one destination the Malfoys had already planned on. I really had to work on maintaining my indifferent mask as I was faced with the first magical bookshop I had ever set foot in.

My allowance would NEVER be enough.

“Draco, I need you to get Miss Granger all traditional children’s books, fairytales and whatever you can remember reading when you were younger. She needs one copy each.”
Draco immediately did as his mother had bid and started collecting… stacks. Like… loads of them. But hey, this was something I would never even DREAM of complaining about.
“Lucius, would you be so kind as to get Miss Granger the introductory books on the classes she will be having in Hogwarts? She will need them soon, I imagine.”
Even Lucius bowed to his wife. It seemed that while shopping, Narcissa was the one in charge.
“Miss Granger, I can see you practically bouncing on your feet, go, get acquainted with the layout, choose some books that seem interesting to you. You have free reign.”

Oooh, she hadn’t just given me free reign in a magical bookshop, had she? She had! Who cared about pureblood-facades when in the place of their dreams?!
And off I went. I found books about magical creatures, magical plants, spell books, books on transfiguration and potions, on curious magical mutations and magical transportation, on long forgotten ancient traditions, on other magical cultures, some wizarding literary volumes, on the magic apparent in different kinds of stones, on ancient monsters, spellcrafting, healing, dragons and… quite a few on dark curses and defence against them, then one on wizarding communications, a few philosophical volumes… The cashier stared at me as I brought stack after stack to the counter, while Narcissa just stood by with a slightly indulging smile on her face. I then even found some on the wizarding monetary system, some biographies of well-known witches and wizards, books about animagi and arithmancy and ancient and modern runes, on artefact-crafting and wandmaking and on and on it went.

Suddenly I stopped. I had found a book in the potions section that I just couldn’t put back down.
"The delicate art of potioneering. Advanced treatises on balance and counterreactions", it said. And the author was none other than Severus Snape. That one book had to go on my pile. It absolutely had to!

“Miss Granger, I would say this is quite enough for now”, Lucius stated calmly while Draco stared at my extended selection with palpable disgust. “You need to find your special interest first, so after you have been introduced to the different subjects, we will come back here for you to have another…” He stopped and looked around for a few moments, before leaning towards me a bit and quietly continuing: “shopping spree…”

I could have sworn there was an amused twinkle in his eyes, though it could just as well have been a trick of the light. I preferred to see it as amusement, though.

I didn’t even hear the exorbitant sum Lucius payed for all the books he, Draco and I had chosen for me, I was so giddy to open the book Snape had written. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t understand a word it said, but I didn’t care. There were no mentions of him ever publishing some of his findings in the books or movies, and Snape was my favourite character by far, so that was an opportunity I just couldn’t let go.

The cashier shrank the books and packed them before giving the still huge pile of shrunken books over to the Malfoy elf that had appeared when he was called to take the packages back.
I struggled really hard to keep my composure on the way back to the apparition spot, though the huge smile broke out as soon as the door had closed behind me.
“I have no idea how to thank you for this, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, this was a dream!”

The two blondes shared a look. “Ravenclaw…”, Lucius sighed, a slightly defeated undertone in his voice, but Narcissa snorted. She actually snorted. “Not a chance. I would be willing to bet though…”

While the two adults started to haggle, I shared a concerned look with Draco. He just shrugged though. “They seem to like you.”
That seemed to explain everything to him. It didn’t for me, though! What the hell?!
 

Chapter Text

The next morning started quite early for me, compared to the rest of the underaged inhabitants of the manor. I had decided to keep going through the books Narcissa had gotten me in preparation for my lessons first. I had no plans of embarrassing myself or the Malfoy family in front of the teachers Lucius had chosen for me – I had decided to be the best and brightest student they had ever had. At least I would give it my best shot.
Before breakfast I managed to work through the first grammatical overview of Old English. It was really interesting, because it was quite similar to the grammar known to me from modern German. Although this shouldn’t surprise me THAT much, it was indeed a Germanic language. I had already known that there wasn’t ONE Old English language, there never was, especially at the time it was spoken, somewhere between the fifth and the twelfth century, but that what was taught as Old English today was actually a West Saxon dialect from around 900 AD. After reading some texts I was surprised how much I actually understood, just from knowing English, German, French and Latin.
I had actually worried about that subject, since English was not my native language, but this seemed to actually be advantageous to me instead of a disadvantage.
With Wizarding Literature I did have some problems though. I had started one of the six classics Narcissa had given me, but a lot of references seemed to just go over my head. As a quite well-read librarian I wasn’t used to not getting intertextuality. And that didn’t sit well with me.
So, I sat at breakfast a bit disgruntled, while trying not to let the others see. Narcissa seemed to see right through me, though, and sent me questing looks, Draco was doing his best to act like the well-mannered pureblood he was, while trying not to fall asleep at the table, and Lucius was reading some letters with a frown.
When he put them down again, he looked at me calculatingly. “I have a favour to ask of you, Miss Granger”, he began, when his wife interrupted: “It’s HERMIONE, Lucius, we have been over this.” He simply let his left eyebrow twitch in irritation, before continuing: “I have a favour to ask of you, Hermione.”
Narcissa seemed satisfied.
I lifted my eyebrows. “And what would that be exactly?”
The frown had appeared on his face again. “Some high ranking officials have raised concerns that you would not be safe in this house because of… past allegations against me and my family and some stands I have taken in the past. They will only allow this guardianship to continue if they get to meet you once a week in a ministry gathering, starting today at five o’clock in the evening.”
I stared at him, outraged. The Malfoys had been nothing but kind to me and had started to open up around me. They even went along with my quirks and actually encouraged my obsession to learn and integrate into pureblood society.
“Do you wish for me to play the wide-eyed muggleborn or someone who actually stands a chance of integration into the wizarding community?”, I asked, curious as of what he would choose. The frown vanished from his face and the very first indication of a smile found its way onto his lips. He obviously liked that I had already adapted to the “us vs. them”-mentality and started to see myself as an extended part of the family. “I would prefer for you to show the promise you’ve shown me the first time we met.”
I turned to Narcissa: “I hate to trouble you, Narcissa, but would you mind giving me a crash-course in pureblood etiquette today? I cannot promise to excel at it, but I will most definitely do my best not to embarrass the Malfoy family name this evening.”
Narcissa looked a bit taken aback for the fraction of a second before a determined glint entered her eyes. “They will regret ever trying to smear the Malfoy name.”

Both Draco and Lucius had decided to sit in. Lucius to go over our game plan for the evening and Draco because he would be sort of my escort tonight. There was even going to be dancing, Lucius had informed me, and for a few seconds I had thought I would hurl. Yes, I was nervous. I was usually very confident and didn’t have any problems speaking in front of crowds, but if I messed up now, it wasn’t my ass on the line, so to speak. And… as much as I liked dancing, I doubted that the High Society of wizarding Britain were dancing Salsa or Freestyle. And that was all I could do if they didn’t want to see some Native American war dance.
Poor Narcissa.
And poor Draco.
While Narcissa was gone to get an outfit for me I should wear all day to get comfortable in, Lucius told me what to expect. We were going to enter as two pairs, he would escort Narcissa and Draco would escort me. There would be drinks and nibbles for the first hour, while we would have to make rounds and speak to all the doubters present.
“Do you want me to be diplomatic or slightly disgruntled because of the short-notice summons? I don’t think I can pull off charming yet, but diplomatic should be doable.” Draco gave me the side-eye, while Lucius seemed to think it over. “Can you do both? I will give you a signal whenever I need you to make nice with someone. For the others biting wit would be acceptable.”
I nodded.
“At around six we will all sit down to eat. There is a very high possibility that they will try to get you alone to judge your behaviour and answers away from our eyes and ears. If we are fortunate, Draco will be allowed to sit with you. If not, you will have to manoeuvre the waters on your own. By then I will hopefully have managed to point everyone out to you that you need to be careful of.”
I pressed my lips together and wiped my suddenly sweaty palms on my skirt. I could do that. I would be able to stand my ground and I would not shame my guardians. I could do that.
“After the meal there will be music and dancing. You are only eight years old, so you don’t need to concern yourself with whom it is seemly to dance and with whom it isn’t. By then we will hopefully be able to stand with you again and introduce you to dance partners you can trust. You have to dance all three of the Starting Dances, not to do so would be a grave insult to the host. If possible, dance with Draco or myself. If not, then one of our allies. If you are somehow manoeuvred into a position where you cannot deny someone else without offending them, you need to be very careful. They will probably try to use your distraction while concentrating on the steps to their advantage. I guess this was one of the reasons they announced this gathering only today, to keep you off kilter. You need to feel secure while eating and dancing. I have observed your table manners; they will suffice for one of the more modern gatherings. So we mainly need to focus on dancing and conversation.”
I gulped, but nodded. I could do that. I just had to be certain that I could do that.
“What would be different at a non-modern gathering?”, I still asked to satisfy my curiosity.
“It would be eating with knife only. One needs months of experience to be able to pull that off without looking the fool.”
I frowned. Eating with just a knife in High Society? My mind flashed back to some medieval market scenes where hordes or Barbarians, Vikings, Celts, Knights and… my friends and me had sat and eaten that way. It was a bit tricky, that was true. Still, I wouldn’t have pegged the wizarding society to be so… primitive.
“After the Starting Dances it is allowed for you to take a break and rebuff every advance and request for the next dance by citing those unfamiliar dances were exhausting and you would like to sit out the next few with a drink. Draco will obviously accompany you to the refreshments.”
I nodded. Sitting out dances I could do. That would probably be the easiest task of the day.
“You will have to make small talk with the people surrounding you though, so if you feel comfortable enough, I would advise you to take a few more turns on the dancefloor with Draco or one of our allies.”
Oh. Not that easy then.
I HATED smalltalk. I really sucked at it. Subtlety and polite, meaningless conversation weren’t exactly my thing. I bit my lip and motioned for Lucius to go on.
“This will continue until about eleven, when it will be acceptable for us to leave, a concession to your youth, though we still have to make rounds to bid our farewells and give our thanks to the host beforehand.”
Air left my lungs in a rush.
“How can they expect a muggleborn to be able to manoeuvre this kind of thing after living in the wizarding world for all but two days?”, I asked, a bit agitated and disgruntled with the ministerial idiots. Lucius’ face closed off and his eyes took on a dangerous, angry look that would have probably made me just the teeniest, tiniest bit anxious had it been directed at me. Yeah, just the teeniest, tiniest bit…
“They don’t, that’s the point. But it will give them points of argumentation against you staying with us if they can point out how little we have done for your education and that we aren’t actually trying to ease you into our world.”
Cold anger seeped into my stomach. I had never been one to see rage as something hot and explosive. For me it was icy cold and hardening my resolve to beat them at their own game…

Chapter Text

The doors opened before us and we entered the hall. I obviously didn’t see it but I could imagine we were quite the sight. Lucius and Narcissa looked even more stunning than usual in heavy black, silver and green brocade, accentuating the regal paleness of their skin and hair and elegant poise. Draco wore a dress robe similar to his father’s in cut and colouring, but made from a lighter fabric, a concession to his youth. I was dressed in a shrunken dress of Narcissa’s that was actually slightly outdated, at least according to her (I had no idea, obviously), but which’s cut was absolutely perfect for my small frame – again, according to the Lady of the house. I would just have to trust her in that regard. It had the added advantage of making me seem even younger than I already was, and softer, which would make any harsh comment I would give seem even more scathing. It was dark green underneath with black lace over it and my jewellery added the missing silver accents to fit in with the other three.

“Lucius! How delightful of you to be able to join us on such a short notice!”
The minister greeted us with his arms open, as if attempting to embrace the Malfoy patriarch, which was ridiculous. NO ONE embraced Lucius, especially not the idiotic minister.
“Minister. The timing was indeed slightly inconvenient, but how could I ever say no to a personal invitation from the minister of magic himself?”

Oh yes, Lucius played his role really well.

Instead of shaking his hand, as the minister obviously intended, the blonde gave him a formal bow, a gesture that could hold a lot of different meanings, as I had learned today. The minister didn’t let this rebuff rattle him though – or maybe he just didn’t realize that’s what it was, and took Narcissa’s hand to kiss it. “Narcissa, you look even more stunning than I remembered.”
She in turn gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Minister. Thank you for the invitation.”

Her wording was obviously not meant as a thank you. Even I could tell that much. She hadn’t thanked him for the KIND invitation or something equivalent, which indicated the invitation had indeed been unwelcome. The minister was either an obtuse idiot or just simply too secure in his perceived superiority to notice. I suspected both.

“Draco”, he then exclaimed, “it must have been years since I saw you last, How much you’ve grown!”
“Minister”, Draco stated without any infliction in his voice and also bowed.

“And there you are, Hermione, how lovely to see you again! That dress looks really pretty on you. How have you been the last few days? Oh, and what have you done with your hair, dear child?”
Urgs. I really hated that guy. Still, I forced a polite smile on my lips. “Good evening, minister.” Nothing more. By not answering any of his questions I basically told him in not-so-many words that I didn’t consider him important enough for an answer. Not that he seemed to understand that.
I silently thanked Narcissa over and over for the gruelling crash course in etiquette and the nuances in polite wizarding conversation. That came quite in handy now.

Fudge though didn’t seem to have a clue about etiquette. Since he had only met me once and that in a more or less professional situation, wasn’t a long term acquaintance of my family’s and we weren’t at a private event at the moment, he had no right to address me by my first name. Even if I was only eight years old.

How that bumbling fool had become minister was anybody’s guess. I made a mental note to ask Lucius about that later.

Said blonde managed to extricate us from the grasp of incompetence and started his round of introductions through the room. Everyone was exceedingly polite and seemed to be content to look me over, assess me from head to toe and ask me how I felt after crossing over into the wizarding world. Since they weren’t being dicks I tried for diplomatic answers every time while always keeping Lucius in my line of sight. Like this I quickly got the handle on who was in our corner, who was undecided and who I had to be careful of. Lucius was a master at giving subtle clues to go on.

When everyone started making their way to the dining hall Lucius’ predictions came to pass. I was separated from the Malfoys with the flimsy excuse that I wouldn’t want to be sitting with all those old people (Draco still was allowed to sit with them, mind you) and was seated next to… even older people. Partly at least. But since I had expected this to happen, I didn’t protest.
The people around me started to introduce themselves, some of them we had already met while doing our introductory round, but with some I was glad for the reminder. On my left-hand side there was a stern-looking middle-aged brown-haired wizard with a bulbous nose who went by the name of Roan Carter. He was a member of the Wizengamot and one of Lucius’ most outspoken adversaries, but not one who held a lot of sway, if I remembered correctly. To my right was a woman in her sixties, a halfblood, she told me with an overly friendly wink, who had grown up with the best of both worlds, according to her. I immediately disliked her. Directly across from me sat a young wizard who seemed… nervous, for lack of a better word. His eyes seemed to jump around, never focusing on anything entirely and who kept wiping his palms on his robes. To his left sat none other than Augusta Longbottom, in whom I hoped to find a supporter for my case. She WAS going to teach me Magical Theory, after all. To his right sat none other than Rufus Scrimgeour. Yay.

“Miss Granger, it is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard so much about you!”, Scrimgeour drawled and grinned toothily. He wasn’t one I had to be careful of, so I just smiled coldly. “The pleasure is completely one-sided.”

He hesitated, before he obviously decided that he had either heard wrong or that I had no idea what I had just said.
The others seemed determined to ignore it too.

“So, how is the wizarding world treating you, Miss Granger?”, asked the halfblood witch, whose name was Rosalia Bennett. I would have loved to wipe that holier-than-thou façade off her face, but I had to play nice for a while. “Oh, the Malfoys have been the perfect hosts”, I answered with the kind of polite smile that told them not to pry into my private matters any further.

It was ignored, of course.

“It is past time someone tried something to help transition those poor muggleborns into proper wizarding society, wouldn’t you agree?”, asked the brunette further, after which everyone readily agreed.
“But they should be educated by… well… proper folk”, the nervous looking guy, who hadn’t given his name yet, threw in. My brows furrowed. Carter also started weighing in, sounding quite patronizing: “Don’t be like that, Thicke. Tell us, Miss Granger, what have they taught you so far?”
I smiled coldly. “Oh, I have only been with the Malfoys for two days now, Mr. Carter, and there were a lot of administrational things that had to be addressed.”
I had to wipe the following triumphant grin from Carter’s face though: “I got an introduction in wizarding fashion though and Mr. Malfoy devised a study plan for me, starting on Monday. ‘till then I am to read some introductory books that will help me devise a better general understanding of the subject matters.”
“Lessons? Lessons in what, exactly?”, Carter asked, suspicion colouring his voice, to which I answered dismissively: “Oh, just what every pureblood is supposed to learn, I guess…”
With this non-answer his brows furrowed further. “And who will be teaching those lessons?”
Now I grinned, slightly. “Oh, according to Mr. Malfoy, the people best suited for each subject.”
Out of the corner of my right eye I could see Augusta Longbottom’s eyebrows rise in surprise.

“Fellow Deatheaters, all of them!”, spat Thicke, the nervous guy, eyes wide with a fanatic glint. What the hell was up with that guy?!
“I hope you aren’t calling me a Deatheater, Mr. Thicke”, Mrs. Longbottom commented, voice deceptively soft. There was immediate silence on the table.
“YOU are teaching Miss Granger?!” Carter’s voice was so filled with incredulity, I had to try really hard not to burst out laughing. “Yes”, I answered, “Madam Longbottom has graciously agreed to tutor me in Magical Theory.”
I then turned to her: “I haven’t had the opportunity to thank you yet for accepting me as your student, Madam, so I would like to do that now. My sincerest gratitude for your commitment to invest your time and patience in my education. I really appreciate it.”
She smiled at me, obviously delighted by my eloquence, which probably WAS quite outstanding. For an eight-year-old.
“So… the teachers are… diverse, then?”, Scrimgeor asked, his eyebrows nearly touching his hairline, while I just shrugged. “I am really sorry about not being able to answer this question, Sir. Could you define your meaning of DIVERSE? It means something different than in the muggle world, I presume…?” They all turned to the brunette halfblooded witch, who looked just as confused as the rest did, though. So much for growing up with both worlds.
“DIVERSE in muggle terms means… Variety. For example a society with people from different ethnicities, with different religions, different skin colour or cultural backgrounds, all living together in some sort of societal melting pot.”

The idiots kept staring at me, as if me explaining them the muggle meaning behind the word was a great feat. Madam Longbottom looked simply amused.
I waited for them to explain their meaning. After all, a muggleborn living in the wizarding world for two days now obviously wouldn’t know about the political subtleties and undercurrents apparent there.
They shared some looks. “Who are your other teachers?”, Mr. Scrimgeour asked cautiously and I shrugged apologetically. I definitely wasn’t going to tell them much more. One thing though would probably floor them. “Well, I don’t remember most of the names Mr. Malfoy gave me, since I do not know the people they belong to, but Madam Bones is going to teach me Wizarding Law.”
“Amelia Bones?!”, Carter asked for clarification, but this time it was Mrs. Longbottom who answered with a slight sneer. “Yes, Mr. Carter, Madam Bones is another one of the teachers who were approached to further Miss Granger’s education. I also know of another one you probably won’t have expected: Nicholas Flamel.”

The others were clearly dumbfounded. The brunette witch seemed to be imitating a fish, Carter’s eyes would have fallen out if he had opened them any wider and Scrimgeour didn’t seem to know how to react by the way his eyes kept flicking between Mrs. Longbottom and me. Thicke seemed to have stopped moving altogether.

It was a nice change.

“You mentioned getting some books to prepare for your classes. What have you gotten for Magical Theory?”, Mrs. Longbottom steered the conversation to a topic I much preferred. I couldn’t suppress the smile that crept onto my face. “Mrs. Malfoy gave me "Magical Theories: A Beginner’s Guide" by Arthulous Deaucart. It was amazing! It’s like… a collection of hypotheses of muggle socio-philosophers from different backgrounds comparing their thoughts on culture and cultural coexistence. The different theories Mr. Deaucart outlines are described clearly and comprehensively and without bias or judgement, as far as I can tell. I am really looking forward to discuss them with you in our lessons.”

She blinked. “You have read it already?”, she asked, sounding incredulous, to which I just nodded and smiled. “Of course. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy have encouraged me to be the best I can be, personally and academically. I have also worked through an introduction to Old English Grammar and some wizarding literary creations, completed "Magical Cores: an Introduction" by Holly Carrow, "Political Factions and their Stands in the 20th century" by Dorothee Mallourn, "History of Wizarding Law" by Abacus Adolphius and "Protocols of exemplary judicial Hearings in the 20th century" by Adelheid Warunculis. I actually had plans to read the "Self-Actualizing General Wizarding Statutes" today and to start on my pile of books on Wizarding History, but then someone had decided that a non-educational ministry function was by far more important than a young girl’s education.”

My voice had gone from polite and factual to sharp and biting in the last sentence. Mrs. Longbottom nodded gravely. “I never did understand why they would hold a gathering such as this to see the progress of a muggleborn witch who has been in the wizarding world for no more than two days…”
We both turned our eyes to Mr. Scrimgeour, who was one of the main organizers of the event. He gasped and spluttered, but didn’t seem to be able to get a word out, so we turned to Mr. Carter, Mrs. Longbottom with both eyebrows raised, me with only my left one creeping towards my hairline.
He didn’t seem to know what to say to that, so he quickly tried to steer the conversation into another direction: “Uhm… Do you eat with the family then…?”

The discussion went on like that for about five more minutes, before Fudge came over announcing first that the food would be served shortly and that he would now take his assigned seat. With that Scrimgeour got up and switched to the seat next to him while Fudge seated his sorry ass within our group.

I hated that guy.

“Miss Granger”, he asked with a fatherly smile that I wanted to scratch off his face, “how do you like ministry functions so far?”
Carter, the only one at least mildly intelligent, seemed to suppress a wince. He had stopped talking a while into our conversation, obviously realizing that he wasn’t going to get anything negative on the Malfoys from me – and only be made to look childishly spiteful. He obviously realized that I wouldn’t mince my words in front of the minister, and since I was backed by Mrs. Longbottom, who, as a member of the Order of the Phoenix, they had obviously thought to be on their side, these words would carry far more weight.

I smiled sweetly at him. “I detest them.”

He blinked. “Pardon me?”

I kept on smiling. “I absolutely detest them. I could now be sitting in my personal study, reading up on Wizarding History as a preparation for my lessons on Monday, or go over some Magical Basics, but instead I am sitting here, at a function without any academic value, where everyone seems to expect me to have the manners of a caveman, since they timed the function so I wouldn’t have had time to prepare and learn Wizarding Etiquette.”

The food appeared, and with it no cutlery, but one sharp knife for each guest. “My point exactly.”

Mrs. Longbottom slapped her hands onto the table and spat out a furious “Minister! What is the meaning of this?!”
I could feel the eyes of everyone present go to me and met the stony facial expression on Lucius’ and Narzissa’s face, while I waited for Fudge’s answer to Mrs. Longbottom’s question.
“I don’t know what you mean, Augusta”, he answered sweetly, but dabbed at some droplets of sweat on his brow, before quickly grabbing his knife and starting to eat. I suppressed a snort. The way he handled it was rather pathetic. I had had experiences with this kind of eating for over ten years now, about a month per year at the very least. I wouldn’t allow this idiot to humiliate me in public.

“Miss Granger, there is no need for you to be able to eat with a knife only, this is something even most purebloods don’t learn until they are way older than you are now!”

I just sent her a smile, an honest one for a change, before letting my features settle into icy arrogance once more. Delicately, but with the confidence of someone who knew what they were doing, I picked up the knife, not holding it like Fudge, who handled it like he expected to have to thrust it into an opponent’s chest at any moment, but more like a delicate utensil, precious but durable. Under the astonished eyes of everyone in the hall I started eating like I had never used anything but that simple knife.
After having chewed and swallowed my third bite and still being the centre of attention, I put down my knife and smiled coolly, before raising my voice so it rang out through the quiet hall. “No need to worry on my account, Madam, the Malfoys are excellent teachers. Even in as little as two days.”

Chapter Text

The rest of the feast had commenced in pleasant silence, for which I was glad. As much as I enjoyed playing the arrogant pureblood-educated muggleborn, it got really exhausting with time, when the reputation of one’s guardians was on the line and one couldn’t allow oneself even a tiny mistake. I had to constantly be vigilant, look out for elaborate hidden traps in every question, every remark. No, I really, really enjoyed the silence. Even if the looks I got were annoying as hell.
Finally the dishes vanished, followed by the tables and chairs after everyone had gotten up. A few musicians took up residence in one corner of the ballroom and started playing. I knew this wasn’t the first dance, it was just the starting sign so everyone could go in search of a dance partner. I could see Fudge turning in my direction, so I immediately ventured the other way and greeted Draco, who had hurried over as fast as his station allowed, to accept his invitation to dance.
We took our places in the middle of the crowd, waiting for the music to start. When it finally did, we started going through the steps. Since I had practiced with Draco the whole day, we were well coordinated together and I didn’t have to concentrate that much on the steps. I knew he wouldn’t lead me wrong.
“Where did you learn to eat with a knife?”, he asked me quietly when we finally had a few seconds of privacy between us while twirling around on the dancefloor. I just shook my head though. “Later”, I hissed, when I saw Scrimgeour leading his partner closer to us, presumably to listen in on our conversation.
Those people had obviously never heard of manners, seriously. And then they wanted to show me up for not having any.
Hypocrites.
We ended our dance quietly and Draco handed me over to his father, before leading his mother out.
It was a bit awkward dancing with someone so much taller than you – and Lucius was at least six feet two to my four feet one – but he of course was an excellent dancer and led me through the hall with grace and flourish.
I didn’t even get the time to enjoy dancing with one of my favourite characters, when the dance was over already. I could see Draco making his way over, but before he could claim his place as my partner, someone cleared his throat and inclined his head in the traditional pureblood fashion.
I swallowed and let my eyes dart to Lucius, whose face now imitated a stonewall.
Shit.
It was Lancast Tharron, pureblood of the most traditional variety, who held a non-movable stance against accepting muggleborns into wizarding society at all. Lucius had told me he had tried to introduce laws to bind the magic of muggleborns and not introduce them to the magical world. Ever.
I smiled delightedly and took his offered hand. Inwardly I groaned at my rotten luck. Why couldn’t it have been one of those muggle-lovers or one of those brainless ministry-cronies? Why did it have to be that guy?!
He led me onto the dancefloor and spun me around expertly. Had I not known who he was, I would probably have enjoyed the dance, since my partner was one of the rare handsome men present. He was quite young, probably in his mid-thirties, his features were sharp and angular, his black hair was styled in bedhair and hung into his eyes rakishly, his skin had a deep tan, a stark contrast to his light blue eyes…
He wasn’t as tall as Lucius, maybe about six feet, but compared to my diminutive height he was still a giant. And he was muscled. Where Lucius had a lean, muscled body that seemed to stem from different forms of exercise (I suspected duelling), Tharron looked like he frequented some kind of magical gym. I had no idea if there was something like that, but that’s what it looked like. For someone who hated muggleborns and everything muggle, a muggle gym obviously was out of the question.
“From what I have seen today, Lucius has trained you well…”
I restrained myself from grinding my teeth. He made it sound as if I was a dog.
“Well”, I said, smiling sweetly, “some people are capable of learning and adapting.”
The muscles around his eyes tightened, but he kept on dancing.
“I do prefer to talk frankly”, he drawled, after having himself under control again. I kept up my smile. “And I do appreciate people saying exactly what they think. Navigating societal subtleties can be incredibly tiring.”
He let me see his slightly disgusted look before schooling his features into pleasantness again.
“Then you will tell me now: Who are you? You are no muggleborn, are you? Was Lucius too embarrassed to bring the real mudblood to this function so he had to resort to this scheme?”
I stared at him for a few seconds, before my urge to chuckle overwhelmed me. “Mr. Tharron, I deeply regret having to inform you that I indeed am muggleborn and have only learned of the existence of magic a little over a week ago. From there on I worked tirelessly to be able to transfer smoothly into the wizarding world, in the last two days with the incredibly valuable help of the Malfoy family.”
He twirled me around and for a second I was scared to fall flat on my face when my shoe got stuck in the hem of my dress, but I managed to extract it in time and act like nothing had happened. I was good at that.
“You can’t be. You must have taken Polyjuice Potion to make yourself look like the girl. You just can’t! You don’t talk, walk or even think like one of them!”
I gave a soft laugh. “Of course I don’t, Mr. Tharron. Why do you think it was me they chose for this experiment? And why do you think the Malfoys agreed to take me in?”
He stared at me and nearly missed one of the steps, which made me ridiculously proud. Hah!
“But you’re just a mudblood!”
My before sweet smile turned malicious. “And you, Mr. Tharron, are in polite society. Please do watch your language.”
His fingers on my left hip and around my right hand tightened to the point where it became painful. Like… REALLY painful. Still, I didn’t have years of experience in martial arts for nothing. My features were set in their mask. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.
When I finally realized the song was coming to an end, I again started talking. “I am eternally grateful to the Malfoys for the way they have welcomed me into their family and for giving me this chance that no other muggleborn has ever had. I will do anything not to dishonour their family name. Anything.”
Tharron blinked, seemingly surprised by my honesty and blatant… threat. Yes, maybe the threat of an eight-year-old wasn’t exactly prone to strike fear into the hearts of grown wizards, but I had wanted to rattle him and make him see that my unbreakable loyalty lay with the Malfoys. At least as long as they held up their side of the bargain. He didn’t need to know THAT particular fact, though.

Obviously Fudge had been waiting for Tharron and me to finish our dance, as he stood waiting, holding out his hands, foregoing the customary bow completely. “How about a dance with the minister, Miss Granger?” I just smiled politely, ignoring his outstretched hand. “I am really sorry, but these unfamiliar dances have tired me out quite a bit. I will just go and get some refreshments.”
With that and a tiny curtsy I left the man blinking owlishly and latched onto Draco. “How about a drink? I could use a drink.”
I then remembered that “a drink” probably meant butterbeer or pumpkinjuice for me and grimaced inwardly. I could have really done with a glass of whiskey. Although, it probably was for the best. Even in my adult body I really couldn’t hold my alcohol and I needed to keep my wits about me around here.
I decided on Gillywater, a sparkly drink reminding me of only slightly sweetened herbal lemonade, before turning around and dreading the inevitable small talk. What exactly was I supposed to talk about? The weather? I was pretty sure not many of the people in here had ventured even one step outside to get here. Beauty products? Fashion? Both wasn’t very likely to go over well for me.

“Ah, Miss Granger!”
I smothered the grimace before it could take root on my facial features and arranged them into a polite smile instead. “Mr. Brockenhouse, a pleasure.”
Dammit. I had done quite well in avoiding people I really had to be careful of. Until now.
Ulysses Brockenhouse was a political dark horse. He held two seats in the wizengamot and had a lot of other members of the house in his pocket. He didn’t really follow a particular pathway though, voting inconsistently for the traditionalists and the modernists, however the fancy struck him. Like Lucius, he had the minister’s ear, and on top of that his sister led the Daily Prophet, with him holding most of the shares in the news company, even more than Lucius did. Which… obviously rankled the blonde a bit.
“I feel honoured you remember my name, Miss Granger. I must have made quite the impression…”
His laugh sounded flighty, unconcerned, but his eyes told me he analysed any and all of my reactions.
I tightened my control over my body language.
He looked like he tried to emulate Lucius’s style and failed spectacularly, but I couldn’t throw off the suspicion it was intentional. Everything about him seemed calculated to me, from the way his ashy blond hair hid his missing ear to the frivolous ruffles on his shirt. Even his flittering gestures and crinkling eyes seemed well rehearsed to me.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was a big player – Lucius’ warning was only further proof of that.
“Well, one doesn’t often meet an Ex-Auror with all… well… most of his body parts still attached.”
I was pretty sure I could see a slight tightening in the corners of his mouth, but it was over so fast, I couldn’t be sure. That I knew of his former occupation seemed to rattle the man, also that I knew what he hid behind the curtain of hair. He had spent one and a half decades to make people forget and see him as someone easily overlooked in the magical and intellectual department. I wouldn’t let him hide behind this newly created persona though, and sent him the most innocent, wide-eyed smile I was capable of.
He knew it was fake, of course. Must have known from the beginning that I wasn’t what most people here were expecting of the “poor muggleborn”. Still, we both kept up our chosen facades.
“Aw, don’t mention it, that time was gruesome! I am glad that’s behind me. Never should have taken up the training, far too strict, sweaty and violent for my taste.” He shuddered, quite over the top, and smiled roguishly. Another one of those…
“Oh, but I heard you were so good at it!”
Indeed, Lucius had told me that this guy had been one of the most hardened aurors at the time, relishing in hunting down criminals and bringing them in broken and babbling, begging to be taken away from their captor, while he was wearing a manic smile on his face. Then, something must have happened on one of his assignments, something that cost him his left ear. And he disappeared for two years before reappearing completely reimagined.
Creepy.
The muscles around his eyes tightened for only the fraction of a second, but it was enough for me to know I was getting to him.
Draco stood beside me, looking decidedly uncomfortable, and seeming to try to subtly catch his father’s attention.
“You must have heard those stories my colleagues keep spreading to get me to feel bad for actually being such a wimp. Couldn’t even stomach seeing a little blood and fainting on my first assignment…”
He smiled and giggled airily, a sound I had never before heard from a grown man.
Now I knew why that man was so dangerous. It was his lack of predictability that made it really hard to nail down his political position. I wouldn’t put it past him to vote on something he was against, just to throw people off, and then say he hadn’t been listening, just taken the vote to end the discussion and finally get back to his frivolous lifestyle. If he would even bother with an explanation.
However, he was one of the more interesting specimens I had met here so far. Not that that would be such a feat, considering my company up to this moment.
I beamed at him. “Of course, that must be it”, I agreed with so much friendliness and cheer that he couldn’t really interpret it as actual agreement.
Okay, I had to admit one thing: I really needed to work on my “diplomatic small talk”. That really wasn’t what I would call diplomatic…
Oh well.
But now I really needed to bring that discussion to a halt. Lucius motioned for me to get away from the man. So, new plan… getting that dude to lose focus, grabbing Draco and making a beeline for the elder Malfoys to avoid further situations like this.
His eyes narrowed, as he changed the topic: “How old are you again, Miss Granger?”
I just smiled at him though and without missing a beat told him: “Old enough to know that I am definitely too young, Mr. Brockenhouse.”
That seemed to throw him a bit. “Excuse me?!”, his voice had suddenly gone a bit higher.
“And you do have to go through my guardian. He is quite picky about my associates, though, so be warned.”
He stared at me as though I was sprouting tentacles instead of hair on my head now. “I am not thinking about you as a future marriage prospect!”
Perfect, I had thrown him completely now. “What are you talking about?! I am only eight years old! Why would anyone be thinking about me in that way?!”
He spluttered and I huffed, grabbed Draco and fled, leaving behind the quite shocked man, surrounded by a few witches and wizards who eyed him warily.
Okay, maybe that hadn’t exactly been one of my better ideas. Still, I had gotten away from the man and more or less hid under my guardian’s wing now.
As long as it worked.

Chapter Text

After my short slip up Lucius introduced me to some of his allies (I wouldn’t exactly call them friends) and I took some more turns on the dancefloor with them. They were cordial enough; one even had a wicked sense of humour and brought out my mean snicker more than once. His name was Adelphas Zabini, younger brother to Doretha Zabini. So the woman had kept or taken on her maiden name again. Or whatever. I was still curious if she really was a black widow or if that was simply fanfiction-canon.
I wouldn’t ask her brother about that though.
We just finished our dance, when again the minister appeared. Ugh.
“Miss Granger, how about that dance you have promised me?”
I sneered at him and would have probably taken him down a peg with a few choice words, but Lucius’ subtle hand sign had me resigning myself to my fate.
Why wasn’t it eleven yet?
“I haven’t promised you anything, minister, but I will still dance with you”, I said in the haughtiest tone of voice I could muster and took his sweaty hand.
Urgs.
Irritatingly Fudge really knew how to dance. His lead left a bit to be desired, but it wasn’t as bad as I had feared.
“Miss Granger, now that you are out of your guardians’ direct influence, you can talk freely. How are they treating you really?”
I really had to keep myself from rolling my eyes. “The Malfoys have been the perfect guardians, minister. Mr. Malfoy has devised a study plan for me, has taken my suggestions to heart and changed it accordingly. I have six rooms for my personal use, get three delicious, healthy meals a day, am included in the family life and have been taken shopping; Mrs. Malfoy has even helped me with wizarding styles and to get rid of my crooked teeth... What exactly are you insinuating?”
He hesitated. “They aren’t exactly… the warmest people. How about affection? Do they give you affection?”
I immediately ceased dancing and stared at the idiot in front of me. “First of all, minister, had I wanted affection, I would have stayed with my muggle parents. I came to the Malfoys to learn, not to be coddled. And second… We have known each other for no more than two days. How exactly do you expect affection to grow in no more than two days, most of those spent with administrative stuff, getting settled, getting new clothes, sorting out the schedules and preparing for this idiotic farce you are forcing me to attend?! Everything would be so much easier if you could just leave us to our own devices. The Malfoys and me have an understanding, we signed a contract. I have chosen to stay with them. It was my decision and it will also be my decision if I choose to leave. So please, please stay out of my affairs.”
Fudge stared at me, incredulously. All of that hostility towards my guardians really grated on my nerves.
“And just to be clear, I will attend no weekly get-together, you will not enter the Manor to check on me, you will not write me in any case but an emergency and you will keep yourself far away from me and all of the Malfoys. If Mr. Malfoy decides I am ready to attend ministerial functions, you may talk to me there, politely, as fitting our state of acquaintance, but I will not stand for you insulting my guardians or my intelligence again. Good evening, minister.”
With this I left him standing alone on the dancefloor, surrounded by people who couldn’t keep their surprise, intrigue or dismay from their faces, and returned to my guardians.
I seethed inwardly. I had been able to tell that there was no real worry on his part about me. Had there been, I wouldn’t have reacted like that. He simply wanted dirt on the Malfoys, that much had been clear. And I was the one he wanted to use for his campaign against them. It worried me a bit though, for Lucius was an advisor to the highest ministerial posts. Was it just that they didn’t trust a reformed death eater with a young muggleborn or did this have any other implications?
“Is it acceptable if we make our rounds and leave?”
The Malfoy patriarch frowned but nodded and we kept our rounds short and to the point, claiming I had to get to bed to be prepared for some kind of lesson tomorrow. There weren’t any on Sunday, of course, but it was a convenient excuse. The only good thing coming from that evening was Adelphas Zabini, who promised to come by for a visit in a few days – to teach me what the Malfoys (according to him) most definitely wouldn’t be teaching me.
Well, he got me curious there.

As we finally reappeared in Malfoy Manor, I let out a relieved sigh.
“Seriously, do you have to deal with this regularly?”, I asked, a bit disgruntled, and crossed my arms, trying desperately not to pout.
“It was worse than expected”, Narcissa said with a frown as she took off her coat.
“The traditional eating knife was a surprise indeed”, Lucius sneered and sent me a look. “You did extraordinarily well there, Miss Granger. Would you mind enlightening us on your practical opportunities for it?”
Of course he would ask that.
“Well…”, I hesitated, but decided to be honest for once. “There is something called medieval markets in the muggle world, where they celebrate times long past. One needs to learn to eat without a fork if one wants to take part in the banquets done by my group. I have probably had more practice with this than most purebloods will their entire life.”
Then Lucius Malfoy did something that blew my world out of its axis. He threw his head back and laughed. I could do nothing but stare. Even Draco stared. So we both stared like the stupid idiotic kids that we were / appeared to be, while Narcissa watched her husband with a raised eyebrow.
Lucius Malfoy laughing was like… like… there was no real comparison for this. He had thrown his head back, one of the pale blond strands of hair that had escaped the leather tie he used to hold them back with, stuck to the left corner of his mouth. His laugh was deep and smooth, while still slightly rough. I had no idea how to describe this, but had my body been a bit older, I would have tried to get Narcissa to sign the divorce papers immediately. Seriously.
I coughed discreetly and tried desperately not to look at the way Lucius’ Adam’s apple bobbed and how his cheeks flushed. Jeesh. And there I had thought I had control over myself and my emotions. What a joke.
After clearing my throat as inconspicuously as I could manage and looking decidedly over Lucius’ left shoulder, even after he had stopped laughing, I managed to get myself in order again.
“Back to the subject at hand. I am not sure about your standing in the ministry at the moment, Mr. Malfoy. They were trying everything they could to get me to badmouth you, even the minister. You are one of the highest ranking advisors in the ministry, and even though I’m not prone to believe in conspiracies, I do strongly suspect there to be one. They were clearly trying to get something on you. It wasn’t that they were actually worried about a muggleborn in the house of someone who had supported anti-muggle laws in the past; they simply wanted to hear of your incompetence and mistreatment of myself. It was ridiculous! And I have to apologize to you all too. I seem to have lost my temper with the minister.”
The three blondes looked at me, Narcissa slightly worried, Draco not understanding and Lucius contemplating.
I squashed the urge to look to the ground like a child ashamed of having broken the rules while knowing better, while I recounted my conversation with the minister.
“Well, that certainly wasn’t particularly diplomatic”, Lucius said in a dry tone, while obviously careful about keeping his face impassive. Dammit. Alienating the minister hadn’t been on my agenda today. Not like that, at least. “We will see how he reacts to this display. But fret not, your actions will not hurt us in the future. Actually, I am pretty sure this evening will prove quite beneficial to us in the long run. Aside from your little loss of composure you have done surprisingly well. I was complimented quite a few times on the way you held yourself, your eloquence and your manners. They, of course, all attributed this to our tutelage, especially after your comments at the table, and were amazed about how much like a pureblood heir you already act with just two days under our roof. There were even a few I consider political adversaries who had to concede that there must be more to my political agenda than they had thought, considering how well a young muggleborn turned out with our guidance.”
I felt a huge weight lifting from my chest. I had feared I had done something that would damage my guardians’ family name, which I had vowed to myself not to do as long as they kept up their side of the bargain.
“I would have loved to see Fudge’s face, though”, Draco snickered, followed by a scandalized “Draco!” courtesy of his mother.
I tried my best to suppress my answering smirk. His face HAD been quite funny.
“Well, it won’t do to stand here and speculate on the minister’s reaction. Off to bed with you two!”, Narcissa took up the mantle and shooed us into our respective parts of the manor.

The next day was a Sunday and I indulged myself with staying in bed longer and sleeping until eight o’clock before getting ready and snagging two sandwiches with cheese and tomatoes from the buffet that was obviously held under a stasis charm. I liked the idea of having food ready all day without having to interrupt my studying at fixed times.
In as little as three hours I had completed the “Self-Actualizing General Wizarding Statutes”. I had thought it would take far longer, but the general law statutes in the wizarding world were far less complicated than I had expected. Yay to simplicity!
So, I sat in front of the two piles I had put to the side: Wizarding History and Magical Basics.
With no idea where to start I laid out the five history books in front of me and started arranging them in chronological order. It was made easier by the fact that the authors seemed to use muggle eras as orientation. So, I had “Critical Analysis of the first documented Evidence of Magic”, “History of Tribal Magic”, “Wizarding Antiquity: Historical Core Facts”, “The Evil in Medieval” and “Magical Renaissance and its influence on Modern Times”.
It would probably be wise to start at the beginning.

Three books, two notebooks and a slight headache later my stomach reminded me that I had not eaten since breakfast. And a quick look outside showed me the sun already quite low, so it was more than time to get some sustenance into my body.
After I had grabbed a big bowl of green salad (probably the one you were supposed to serve yourself out of, but I didn’t care, I needed this now), a plate piled with steamed vegetables with little pieces of bacon on them and a small bowl of potato-salad with (weirdly enough) chopped mint leaves in it (whyever they did that I had no idea), I sat down at the table, book four opened beside me, notebook directly below it. Until now I did prefer the second book I had read, “History of Tribal Magic”, for I had a profound love of the tribal culture before and in the antiquity. And the people and rituals and magic the book described was just simply amazing. That book had also immediately found its way onto my “To-Buy-For-Myself” list, which… seemed to grow larger every time I opened a new book or saw an interesting reference about.
I was also interested in medieval times though, so I was really looking forward to “The Evil in Medieval”.
This book proved especially gripping, since it was explained that the terms “dark magic” and “light magic” originated in those times. Before, everything that required the use of one’s magical core had been magic, simple as that. I personally preferred the earlier definition. After all, even light spells could maim and kill and even dark spells could help and save lives.
I had finished the veggies and my green salad in record time and was just chewing my first fork full of potato salad, when the door opened with a bang and I nearly spit my mouth full of the yellow chunks over my precious book.
Thankfully, I was able to avert that disaster.
Only after having made sure that the book was still in pristine condition, I looked up to see who had entered. It was Draco, staring at me as if I had lost my marbles. “Salazar, you even read while eating?! Seriously?! Father must be right, you’re such a Ravenclaw!”
As hard as I tried (so… not very hard) I couldn’t take that as an insult and so I just shrugged. Then I had an idea, though.
“Have you eaten already?”
Draco shook his head, got himself some kind of meat with mash and gravy and sat down opposite me. He didn’t talk much while he ate, and neither did I, but I saw to it that we finished our meal together.
“Say, Draco…”, I began, while closing my book and notebook and leaning back afterwards, “you have grown up in a pureblood household…”
He sneered. “Of course!”
“So… have you done any training to control your accidental magic? Can you focus enough to make your magic do what you want by actually trying to make it happen?”
Now he seemed a bit confused. “Of course.”
Perfect.
“How about a deal…”

Chapter Text

After negotiating for practical lessons with the Malfoy heir every Sunday at 10 o’clock (I would try to make his Mugglestudies class as interesting and useful as possible in compensation), I skipped happily into my guest-wing. Before I could stomp up the stairs though, I heard a weird scratching noise, as if someone used their fingernails to scratch over glass.
I hesitated for a few seconds. Should I go and get Lucius? Or Draco at least? But what if it was… a bunny or something equally embarrassing? On the other hand, what if it was dangerous? I didn’t have a wand and I was bloody eight years old.
Curiosity won out though. Yes, I was that stupid. Maybe I really did have some shred of a Gryffindor in me.
Urgs. There was a thought…
…
Hm, maybe the Malfoys were rubbing off more than I had realized.

After looking around I took one of the heavy silver candelabras and tiptoed into the receiving room where the noise seemed to originate from, and… rolled my eyes. Gingerly I put my makeshift weapon away and opened the door for the huge grey wolf-like creature standing in front of the glass door leading into the garden and scratching at the glass with a pitiful expression.
“What do you want, Brynn?”, I asked with a sigh. “I have nothing to eat. And even if I had, I wouldn’t give you anything, Mr. Malfoy already warned me about you.”
The big dog let its ears flop and managed to take on a kicked puppy look.
Seriously? That thing was so damned huge its shoulders reached mine when it was sitting, and still it tried to pull off that puppy-look! Jeesh…
But I was a grown woman, rather mean most of the time, I had to admit, and a proud Slytherin, so it had no chance of me cracking, just because it threw me that look!

…

Five minutes later I had gotten the thing a plate with ten bloody slices of different meats on it.
Now, after inhaling them, it lay on my couch, its head on my lap while I (unsuccessfully, I must add) tried to go through “Magical Renaissance and its influence on Modern Times”.
Wonderful.
I was never going to get rid of it now.
Was I slowly turning into a… Slue? Slyther-Sue? If I didn’t land in Ravenclaw as Lucius feared, or in Gryffindor as Hermione should, at least. Anyway, I couldn’t let that thing become my companion. That just wouldn’t do. I actually didn’t do pets at all, anyway. Not that I disliked them, I truly loved animals, but I didn’t want to be responsible for someone’s wellbeing. Hence why I had never even toyed with the idea of having children.
A little whine had me stroking and scratching the heavy shaggy head though and I sighed dejectedly. Defeated by an overgrown puppy. That would look just wonderful in my resume.

It took a while for me to find a position in which I could sit comfortably while scratching the grey menace’s ears and reading the history book.
The next time I looked up, the sun had already set. Bewildered I looked at Brynn, who seemed to be sleeping contentedly. Jeesh. What a lazy dog.
I had finished my last book on History, so the fourteen books on Magical Basics were the only ones remaining. I wasn’t idiotic enough to start on them while I was supposed to be sleeping, though. I had to be alert for the lessons the next day. A quick look onto my timetable showed me Wizarding History, Pureblood Etiquette, Magical Theory and Magical Core as the subjects I would be having. Wizarding History with Nicholas Flamel, Pureblood Etiquette with Narcissa, Magical Theory with Corban Yaxley and Augusta Longbottom and Magical Core with Darren Selwyn… I was really looking forward to these subjects. Well… aside from Etiquette, of course, but it WAS necessary, especially if I wanted to emanate Narcissa’s poise at some point in the near future.

With undeniable force I shoved Brynn off my lap, which the dog answered with an unhappy growl. “Don’t you need to go outside for a bit? You know… to get rid of all that meat you ate earlier?”
It just looked at me.
“Maybe to lift your leg?”
Still no reaction. Why exactly was I talking to a dog anyway? It wasn’t as if it was able to understand what I was saying.
“Come on, let’s go outside for a minute…”
With that I got up and opened the glass door to the garden / park, but Brynn only went out after I had left the room.
A clingy dog? Really?
Immediately after leaving, the grey menace (that would be its name from now on, I’d decided) relieved itself.
As inconspicuously as I was able, I crept back into my room, closing the door behind me, and sighed. Finally. I really didn’t need a dog stuck to my side. I had enough to deal with as it was.

Chapter Text

When Nicholas Flamel entered the room dedicated to my education, I couldn’t help but stare.
He… didn’t seem like a being well over 600 years old. He looked more like a man in his early fifties, and rather fit, actually. Had I been my own age, I might have actually flirted a bit with him, had I met him in my own body and my own time.

I’ve always had a thing for older men.

He was tall and lean, not at all like I had envisioned him, with long dark hair streaked with a few silver strands and a full beard. His face had just enough wrinkles to seem mature, but his dark brown eyes spoke of all the good and terrible things he had seen in his long life.

I was fascinated.
A shame that he was married.

“Miss Granger”, he drawled and therefore shocked me out of my reverie, “I wish you a pleasant morning. I am Nicholas Flamel, your teacher for Wizarding History and Old English.”
It took me a few seconds to get my bearings, before I hastily bowed. “It is an honour to be able to learn from you, Sir. I am extremely grateful to you for taking time out of your day to teach me in those subjects. I promise, I’ll do my very best to never disappoint you or make you regret to have taken on this burden.”
He blinked. Obviously, I had kind of blindsided him. It seemed that Lucius hadn’t told him that I was not one of the spoilt purebloods or completely clueless muggleborns. Oh well.
He then only smiled though, sat down and began the lesson. The first hour consisted of him testing my knowledge on wizarding history, and he seemed pleasantly surprised with what I had learned so far and my personal takes on it. We then discussed how we were to go on from there. He decided to assign me a chapter to read every day that we would be discussing in the lessons, since I seemed to grasp the core of the matter quite easily.

Duh.

I was to take notes too, in case I had questions about motivations, background of anything I deemed illogical or where I thought to have found discrepancies.
He also warned me that he would sometimes be giving me chapters of dubious origins, so I would need to do research with each too, to ensure the facts cited were… well, facts.
I absolutely loved his approach, though I would have preferred to have a little more time to do and verify each chapter. I was a bit pressed for time as I had asked for two more hours per day on the premise of not having any homework.
Still, I was going to do my best.

Pureblood Etiquette started with training on how to stand. Yes, I wasn’t even allowed to walk yet, I had to stand correctly first.
Narcissa was a hard taskmaster, but at the end of the lesson I was able to… well… stand the way a pureblood heiress was supposed to stand when waiting for something. NOT when listening to something. Apparently, that required a different stance altogether.

Joy.

I had thought I had an okay posture. Turned out that I didn’t. It was a bit weird at first to keep my back straight all the time, while keeping my chin in exactly the right position for the different situations. I also had to keep my weight equally distributed and not shift, not resting my body on one hip, watching the position of my feet and hands, using hand gestures sparingly, but to their best effect.

Yes, standing was far harder than it sounded.

I was thankful I was breathing correctly. And yes, that had been tested also. Breathing into the stomach was important, apparently, but not too deep as it would make your stomach extend too much, and breathing through the mouth was frowned upon.
By Merlin’s dotted boxers, I never would have thought it would be THAT hard to act like a pureblood.
Although… I DID suspect that Narcissa was especially hard on me. As a muggleborn I couldn’t afford to slip up in pureblood society even a little.

Oh well.
It was me who had chosen the Malfoys to be my guardians. So… you reap what you sow, I guess.

I spent lunch with the Malfoys with my nose buried in the chapter Mr. Flamel had assigned me, under the disapproving eyes of Narcissa. She said nothing, though, after I had told them how my History teacher planned to implement his lessons. Lucius had just looked at me with a frown for a second. That was it. They seemed reluctant to hinder my dedication to learn, and I was thankful.
Draco only grumbled something about swots and Ravenclaws and some such.
Not that I cared.

Magical Theory was immensely interesting. Not taken into account that Corban Yaxley, one of my two teachers for this subject, was extremely hot and Augusta Longbottom seemed to have realized my fascination with the handsome man, the content was great. And the two complimented each other perfectly.
Mr. Yaxley was of the opinion that muggle influence thinned the magic in wizarding society, while Mrs. Longbottom was steadfast in her plea that wizards closing themselves off brought problems no wizard was equipped to handle.

I, personally, agreed with both.

They both argued for their points passionately, and then asked me about my thoughts. This was when I realized, that their squabbling had been more or less for show, to make me see how discussions about this subject took place in wizarding society.
So, I formulated my own opinion on the matter: “I don’t agree with any of you completely”, I stated, which brought me slightly confused looks from both sides. Being a muggleborn, they obviously had thought I would take Mrs. Longbottom’s side immediately.
“Wizarding society is self-sufficient, just as muggle society is. Both have their problems and both have their advantages. Unfortunately, only one of the two is ready to know about the existence of the other. Being the one already in the know, it’s the duty of wizarding society to educate their young on the muggle ways, not letting them run into the muggle world blindsided by stereotypes and fabrications, picturing muggles as completely alien. They are an integral part of the world as it is and should be treated as such.”

“Hah!”, said Mrs. Longbottom.

“Muggles have a vast knowledge about how the universe works. They know about physics, chemistry, geology, biology, mathematics and whatnot, things that witches and wizards could only benefit from knowing.”

“Hear, hear”, the witch gloated.

“On the other hand, incorporating muggle traditions into a society that already has its own traditions and forcing the people to abandon their believes and established culture completely will only bring division and unrest. And a loss of cultural history.”

“Even a muggleborn thinks that way!” Mr. Yaxley grinned, satisfied.

“Cultural suppression and forced appropriation has never worked in muggle history”, I continued. “Yes, maybe some believes and traditions are outdated, but they shouldn’t just be prohibited, they should be talked about in open discussion, maybe modernized, but not just suppressed without informed, open and public discourse.”

The two shared a look and nodded.
“You seem to have thought about this quite a bit, Miss Granger”, Mrs. Longbottom commented with a pleased smile on her face. Mr. Yaxley nodded to this.
“You make very well thought-out points, I have to admit. Even though I don’t agree with you on all accounts, you made it hard for us to argue against you.”

Uhm… this wasn’t a class about debating, though.

“So, what do you think about marriage between magical and muggle folk?”
This was a bit trickier.
“My opinion roots in the assumption that either existence or absence of magic is nothing but a genetic mutation that has proven beneficial for the affected group of people.”
I had to stop when I realized the two had no idea what I was talking about. So, the next hour was spent on ME teaching THEM about genetics, Darwin and the development of species through mutation. This actually lasted until Darren Selwyn, my teacher for Magical Core entered the room and stared at us with a confused expression. Well, it probably WAS a bit weird to see the supposed pupil standing in front of the blackboard, drawing weird symbols, ratios and graphs, while the supposed teachers sat at the desk actually meant for said pupil, taking notes and asking questions for clarification.
Mr. Selwyn actually had to compliment them out of the classroom, which they only left after I had promised them to continue the next week and to somehow get a hold of introductory books on genetics and mutation.
Well.
It was good to refresh one’s memory on those things once in a while anyway.

Magical Core started off with a rant about muggleborns having no idea about magic and that trying to teach them about the importance of the Core was fruitless.
Well, that was something that still remained to be seen.
Mr. Selwyn was opposed to teaching me, it was quite easy to tell, and he seemed to take it as an insult to have to consort with the likes of me.
“Well, let’s have at it, then”, he sneered and waved his hand on the direction of a pillow on the floor where I sat down and closed my eyes.
“Try to feel the magic running inside you. Not that you will, but TRY at least. As far as your puny muggle brain will allow you.”
Thank you very much.
Yes, my brain was smaller than his, but that had nothing to do with me being muggleborn, and everything with me being eight years old.

Asshole.

Unfortunately for him this wasn’t the first time I tried meditating on this.

“Got it”, I said after five minutes.
“What?!”
Scrambling noises and then the feeling of breath on my face.
“That’s impossible! You’re probably hungry and your idiotic brain just thinks it found it.”
Yeah, as if I couldn’t differentiate between hunger and the glowing sensation of pulsating magic.

Idiot.

“It’s like a glowing, pulsating net of warmth through my entire body”, I described. “Its centre is located in my gut. It’s like… snakes coiling around each other. There… are other coils in the net, though, two are located in my knees, two in my elbows, two in my shoulders, one in my throat and another in my brain. I’m not sure though if the glow from my heart is connected to the centre point, as it is not connected with the net, but it seems similar.”
There was silence. A very, very long silence. So long, in fact, that I broke meditation and blinked questioningly at my teacher.
“Are you well, Mr. Selwyn? You look rather pale…”

Since I didn’t really have anything to process in the time I had reserved for processing what I had learned that day, I spent the hour between lessons and dinner in the library, researching for Wizarding History. The chapter Mr. Flamel had given me to read was, as I realized quite quickly, taken out of the Compendium of Magical Devolopement from the Earliest Ages, written by none other than Flamel himself.
This resorted into me burrowing myself in the book until my personal alarm clock poked me into the ribs to get me to go to dinner. I did so, nose buried in the book and not really seeing where I was going, until loud voices made me look up.
“I don’t KNOW, Lucius!”, Darren Selwyn said, just shy of shouting at my guardian. “If she isn’t lying, which is quite possible, a muggleborn she most definitely isn’t! The way she described her core isn’t one seen in pureblood children until third grade or in ones having spent months developing their core! It is absolutely IMPOSSIBLE for her to have a core like that!”
I sighed. Maybe I should ease his agony.
“You are absolutely correct, Sir”, I said, sitting down at the dinner table. Mr. Selwyn let himself show a flinch, probably curtesy to his agitation. “So you were lying? I knew it!”
I suppressed a smile and just shook my head. “No, Sir, I meant about having worked on my core for months. I didn’t know exactly what I was doing, of course, but as soon as my magic manifested and I had started to make things happen, I started to look for the cause of this – by meditation. I think I managed to draw my magic much further out of myself when I tried to will things to happen on purpose, so that my outbursts of accidental magic became more and more frequent.”
I conveniently forgot to tell them I had actually tried to learn occlumency that way as well.

Selwyn didn’t know what to answer to that, while Lucius sent me a look that was equal parts pride and suspicion.
Finally, my grey-haired teacher found his voice again: “Lucius, if you would give me permission to look for myself, I could prove her being a fraud. She might be clever, I give her that, but clever doesn’t equal talent.”
Look… look for himself?
Lucius frowned and shook his head. “I have signed a contract with Miss Granger. It quite clearly says I cannot allow anyone to poke her with magical means without her permission. So you have to ask her.”

…
Wait.
That had never come up in the contract.
It should have, though, now that I thought about it.
Was he trying to let me show goodwill, to prove my honesty to a doubter? Or was he trying to subtly tell me this would damage me in some way?
Mr. Selwyn stared at me, looking like a shark and waiting for me to show weakness.

I needed more information.

“What exactly does LOOKING FOR YOURSELF entail?”, I asked, feeling quite suspicious. “I don’t want anyone rummaging around in my head and maybe trying to change some thing or the other.”
Both Lucius and Mr. Selwyn looked at me, somehow confused. “Looking at your core has nothing to do with your head”, my dearest guardian told me without explaining further.
Gnah!
“Then what DOES it entail? I’m not going to let anyone do anything to me that I do not fully understand!”
Now the blonde seemed to get it.
“You would lie down, meditate, look for your core and hold the glow. That… means you don’t let go when you can see your core.”
I nodded, showing I understood what he meant.
“Then Selwyn would send his mind into yours, just skim the surface, and use this as a focal point, a bridge, if you so may, do delve into your magical being. That means he will be able to see those glowing strands only. He will be able to observe, to probe them a bit, but he won’t be able to change anything or harm you in any way.”
Well, that was good, but to be able to do that, he still needed to access my mind, even though only for a bit.
“What reassurances do I have that he won’t delve deeper into my mind than absolutely necessary?”, I asked, sending my teacher a flat look. “He isn’t exactly fond of people like me and might find himself not bound to respect my boundaries.”
The older man gasped in outrage and started spluttering nonsense, while Lucius’ brows furrowed. He sent his associate a sharp look, but said nothing to my accusation.
“I will procure an impartial judge. A friend of mine is quite skilled in mind arts and will be able to supervise and validate the procedure. Would you be satisfied with this?”
I thought it over for a while. “You will vouch for this person? You trust them completely?”
A weird smile flittered over my guardian’s face. “I do indeed.”
And with this, my decision stood: “Let’s do this, then.”

Chapter Text

With the examination of my core scheduled for Monday evening the following week I was finally allowed to eat. Mr. Selwyn had opted to accompany us and had nothing better to do than complaining about me reading at the table. That was immediately shut down by Narcissa, curiously, as she had been the one to show her disapproval quite openly at lunch: “Miss Granger has quite a bit of work to complete every day, Darren. Her timetable is filled up completely, since she has lessons from eight to five every day with only a short lunch break, and her dedication to keep her body fit as well in the evenings. This was done with lessons in mind that don’t require homework. Mr. Flamel, who is teaching her about Wizarding History every day, opted for another teaching style though, so she needs to squeeze his assignments in somewhere. Do not presume to judge when you don’t know the facts. Does the ministry not teach this to its employees?”

Whow.
Narcissa could swing a real stinger when she wanted to. Her little rant had been brought forward with a polite smile and a sweet voice, but the way her eyes had glinted and the content was… well… not that nice.
I really, REALLY wanted to be a bit more like her.

For the rest of the meal Selwyn tried very, very hard to not touch any subject that could be interpreted as an attack on my person.
Nice.
The privileges afforded to me through this guardianship were absolutely amazing. I honestly couldn’t have chosen any better. I was given a thorough education in all things magical, got lessons on how to behave in pureblood society (even though I hated the lessons, I absolutely needed this knowledge to be able to hold my own in the future), everyone was scared of them and therefore tried to accommodate me (mostly)… yes, very nice. Oh, and they were rich. And made me rich by default.
I was going to have a library as big as the one I had worked in after leaving Hogwarts.

After dinner I went outside. I was planning on a short run around the lake the Malfoys called “pond”. I had only just managed to leave the door, when I stumbled over an enormous furry boulder.
“Brynn?! Seriously?!”
The wolfdog whined and gave me a pleading look out of its yellowish eyes.
“What?”, I asked, exasperated. Why did the grey menace always appear out of nowhere?!
“Okay, listen, I will go for a run around the lake and afterwards, I’ll scratch you for a bit. Yes?”
The wolfdog whined again and I decided to interpret this as acquiescence.
Unfortunately, I was wrong.
Obviously, Brynn had wanted to be entertained. And it found it extremely entertaining to follow me on my evening run, while butting my backside every once in a while when I was running too slowly for its taste.

Jeesh.

It had also decided that it would be a really good idea to throw me into the lake afterwards, and to follow me with a big splash.

Yes. It was an incredibly stupid idea.

I reached my bathroom shivering so hard I was nearly unable to open the door, with my teeth chattering so insistently I couldn’t even send the grey menace away.
All I could think about was a hot bath. So, I turned up the temperature in the small pool to lukewarm and let the bubbles come up, which took me four tries to do, I was shaking that hard. But then, finally, I was able to sink into the warm goodness. While my freezing body acclimatized to the warmth, I gradually turned up the heat.
Brynn had managed to sneak into the pool too, but I was in no mood to make it get out. I just didn’t care.
“You know, you really need to be trained, you giant excuse for a Chihuahua. This kind of behaviour just simply isn’t acceptable.”
The wolfdog’s eyes seemed to widen somewhat, as if it had understood what I had said.
Ridiculous, obviously.
“I’m going to need some books on dog training. This is one area of expertise I know absolutely nothing about. Well… apart from some rants of a German comedian. What are you doing here anyway? You don’t even belong to the Malfoys, do you?”
Brynn blinked, as if it was confused and I giggled.
“Look at me. Talking to you as if you actually understood one word of what I’m saying.”
A sigh worked its way out of my chest and I played “catch-the-bubble” with myself. I had always done that with Claudia on the yearly spa trip she insisted on. Each of us had tried to catch air under our capped hands, and the one who made the biggest “blobb” after releasing it had won. A piece of chocolate or the first choice of cookies, mainly.
As much as I had always complained about those weekends, and as much as I loved being in the magical world of Harry Potter, I missed my friends. Claudia’s advice on anything judicial or anything concerning money and family. Caroline’s unwavering support on anything I wanted to try, however stupid it was, and her willingness to spar with me whenever I wanted. The discussions I had with Cathy about Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Doctor Who and Supernatural and her playing either advocatus diaboli or partner in crime for my stories, be they original or in the fanfiction universe. Rela’s willingness to belt out my own songs with me, without knowing the lyrics or melody, and always supporting my passion for music. Hiking with Monica, Alex and Lucas. Discussions on philosophy, ethics, religion and other subjects with my co-worker and friend Stephan. Spending time doing whatever idiotic thing holding my fancy at the moment with my co-workers, friends and babies Sabrina and Kim…
I had a circle of friends that were there for me. Always. They knew me, got me and spent time with me regardless. I had never had to doubt their love for me. Not once. And they never had to doubt mine.
I missed them.
I absolutely missed them. Terribly.

Brynn whined and prodded my cheek. Okay, at least I had a really annoying dog that wouldn’t leave me alone.
Oh well. At least it was fluffy. Well… not at the moment though. Right then it was just… wet.

Grumbling I tried to shove it away from me.
Very much unsuccessfully, I must add.
“Come ooon, personal space! Ever heard of that?”, I wheezed while trying to get it off me, but it just continued to bump my cheek with its cold, wet nose. And then it started slobbering all over me.
“Seriously???”
Resigned I lay back and let it slobber my ear.
Seemed like I had managed to get myself a pet.
Joy…

Chapter Text

The next morning started with me waking up to the usual gong, groaning and nearly falling out of bed, because SOMEONE had made its home there as well.
I was no morning person, and I was vindictive, so I threw the grey menace from the mattress. A surprised squeak was my only answer before the giant wolfdog just fell asleep again.

Jeesh.

I managed to inhale a bit more from the “Compendium of Magical Devolopement from the Earliest Ages” while eating breakfast and surprised my teacher with knowledge and insight.

Well, it wasn’t too hard.

In Etiquette we started with… looking. Yes, looking. Establishing eye contact, as Narcissa called it. It was… looking.

After that came Wizarding Politics with Mr. Malfoy. That one was immensely interesting, as I didn’t know all that much about the inner workings of the British Ministry of Magic.

Then came Magical Basics.
I hadn’t exactly prepared for this lesson, not like I had prepared for every other one, because fourteen books just weren’t doable in the short amount of time I had been given. I had just read the Introduction into all the different basics. It seemed to be more than Lucius had expected, however, because he started with an overview: “Magical Basics cover far more than what you will hear in school. There, you’ll have Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Defence against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Care for Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Astronomy and Divination, but those are only in part actual Magical Basics. Can you name some?”

I nodded, as I already knew the fourteen Basics: “There are groups and subgroups”, I explained, “all of the fourteen Basics can be sorted into the first-level groupings: active and passive.”
Lucius looked intrigued. “Explain to me the difference between this first-level grouping.”
“Active means that I actively have to do something to get a magical reaction. Like Wand Art. I have to use a wand, my core and specific movements and incantations to make something magical happen. Passive means using the inherent magical properties of substances, numbers, runes or other means to work magic.”

Lucius nodded, clearly impressed. This wasn’t something that had been explained in the books Narcissa had given me. It was something that just clearly made sense. “Where would you group the Art of Artefacts, then?”, he asked, but this answer was glaringly obvious: “Active in creation, passive in usage.”
“So… passive. Which Basics would you group there?”
“Runic Art, Numeric Art, Ritualistic Art and the Art of Substances.”
“And active?”
“Wand Art, Wandless Art, Art of Magical Intent, Art of Forming, Mind Art, Art of Duelling and Art of Familial Magic.”
Lucius blinked, a bit surprised. Seemed like the grouping wasn’t as obvious as I had thought. “What about the rest?”
“Well”, I struggled to explain, “they are special cases. The Art of Seeking is active, because you use your inherent sense. It is passive, because you don’t actually use your own magic, or the ambience magic you seek. The Art of Flowing is active because you actively move magic from one place to the other, but passive because you don’t use your own magic at all. And the Art of Familial Magic can be both, it depends on what kind of Familial Magic we are talking about. I would need better insight into these Basics to come to an objective conclusion.”
Lucius nodded with a slight twitch to his lips. A smile, I decided.
“Two active Basics can be used as further groupings: Wand Art and Wandless Art. For obvious reasons”, I continued, but Lucius held up his hand to stop me.

My mouth closed with an audible click.

“This is all theoretical overview. We’ll have time for that once you’ve gotten to know the Basics. Since you don’t have control over your accidental magic yet but already have a quite well-developed core, we’ll start a bit differently this time. If you are agreeable, I would like to experiment a bit.”

I blinked. Wasn’t my whole being here an experiment?

“Usually children start working with Wand Art. Maybe you have seen the practice wands? They help them to focus their magical flow. Some, who are especially talented, continue to Art of Magical Intent, to focus their accidental magic.”
I nodded. They learned to focus with the sticks and afterwards got rid of the crutch.

Logical.

“Personally”, Lucius continued, “I would prefer them to get a feeling of their surrounding first, though. So, I would prefer for them to start with the Art of Seeking, continuing on to the Art of Flowing, and then immediately moving on to the Wandless Arts. Unfortunately, there aren’t many children who have the calmness, patience and stillness they need for extensive meditation to develop their core. None, actually. Until now.”

Oh.
That’s where he wanted to go with this speech.

“Let me see if I understand you correctly… You want me to be tested by Mr. Selwyn. If he validates my words, we would immediately start with this… experiment…?”
Lucius nodded, a glint in his eyes.
“Of course I wouldn’t do this against your wishes…”

Of course he wouldn’t.

That probably was why he had asked for my consent on the testing. He wanted me to feel like I actually had a choice.

Well… I had one.
Kind of.
Unfortunately, I was curious.

“Let’s go for it, then.”

Chapter Text

Latin with Yaxley was a blast. It took him one hour to storm out of the room and declare me taking this lesson a moot point, before coming back five minutes later with tomes over tomes on the meaning of Latin for modern wizarding society.

Oh well.

Wizarding Law was amazing though. Madam Bones started to lead me through the whole of modern law, while discussing each step in-depth.
My friend Claudia would have gotten an apoplexy, had she seen me discussing legal terms with a professional.
Old English with Mr. Flamel was the best scientific discussion on linguistics and language development I had ever had. He was just so damn knowledgeable, it was unbelievable. He also seemed really impressed with my understanding of these subjects.

Well, no surprise there. Librarians have it easier, I guess.

In Wizarding Literature I met Doretha Zabini for the first time.
She was amazingly gorgeous, just as I had imagined, but she also had a spine of steel. She wanted to take the same approach as Mr. Flamel – wanted me to read the classics, then discuss them with me.
Weirdly it seemed like the wizarding world didn’t have any literary eras, they just had… books.
I told her about the muggle concept of putting the works in context and promised to bring her some muggle classics the following week.

After Narcissa made me practice sitting at a table for lunch on Friday over and over, with me not getting much food into my stomach, I was waiting with baited breath for my teacher in Flora and Fauna. I had no idea who it may be, but Lucius had told me he was the best he could find. He also told me not to talk about his identity either, though, which… worried me a bit.
Lucius had been a Death Eater after all.
Not that Yaxley and Selwyn weren’t Death Eaters either…
Oh well.

The lessons would be held outside in the garden/park.
It wasn’t raining, thankfully, but I had the feeling the weather would be the least of my problems with this subject. Especially as I caught sight of my teacher.
He was big. Well… Tall. Really tall. And very, VERY muscular. He was also extremely scarred and his dark and silver hair was kind of matted together in places. His equally dark and silver beard obscured half of his face, but it couldn’t hide either the scars, nor the glowing yellowish eyes. And it also couldn’t hide the fangs.
He had freaking FANGS.

Lucius had gotten Greyback to teach me Flora and Fauna.

GREYBACK.

The bloody WEREWOLF.

I squeaked and stared at him with big, round eyes.
Lucius, who had come to introduce us, sighed.
Greyback rumbled deep in his chest.
“This is your teacher for Flora and Fauna, Fenrir Greyback. Don’t worry, he won’t harm you, he might look a bit scary, but he has read and accepted our contract, so you don’t need to worry.”

I shrugged off my momentary lapse of judgement, tried to ignore my racing heart, cleared my throat and found solace in Narcissa’s Etiquette-teachings. Back straight, chin slightly down, polite smile on the lips, bow.
“Pleasure to meet you, Sir. My name is Hermione Granger. Thank you for accepting the position as my teacher. I’ll do my very best not to disappoint you.”
Greyback’s eyebrows rose and Lucius just nodded, satisfied, before leaving.

Greyback was… huge. Like… REALLY huge. Especially since I was no more than an imp.

I wanted to climb him like a tree.

In a non-sexual kind of way.
…
Kind of.

I waited until Lucius was out of sight to turn back to the greying man and sent him a polite smile. I hadn’t known that Narcissa’s teachings would actually prove to be quite a good shield when I was feeling flustered.
“First things first. Call me “Sir” one more time and I’ll tan your hide.”

…

Okay then.

“The name’s Fenrir, or Greyback, if you must.”
He eyed me, obviously not very happy at the prospect of teaching me. Well, I’d just have to be happy about the arrangement for both of us.
“Fenrir, then”, I agreed and nodded politely. “I would appreciate you calling me Hermione, in that case.”
He grumbled something under his breath I didn’t quite catch, but it didn’t seem complimentary.

Oh well.

He turned around without another word and walked into the trees, while I had to run to keep up with his monster-strides.
Jeesh, that guy had legs a mile long! They were longer than I was high, actually.
At one particular tree he stopped. It was an oak. Well… Oaken. Some particular extant species, I guessed.
“What is this?”, the werewolf grumbled.
I really liked his voice. Deep and rumbly and rough…

If only I was a few years older…

“If it’s non-magical I would classify it as part of the Quercus genus, a part of the beech family. Some type of oak.”
He looked at me for a few seconds. Yes, I had read compendiums on botany when I was bored as Muggle-Hermione. Sue me.
And anyway… Oaks were really hard NOT to identify.
“I was talking about THAT.”
I followed his gestures and had to squint. There was a green… something on the trunk, quite a bit above my head.

…

Really?

“Uhm… some kind of moss or lichen, probably”, I guessed.
The only thing I could see from down here was that it was green.
Fenrir growled, grabbed me by the back of my collar and just lifted me high and higher.
The collar cut into my throat and cut off part of my air supply, but I tried to stay calm while taking the shallow breaths still possible. I only had to stay calm, then he would let me down soon.
I just needed to be calm.
“Well?!”, he growled, while shoving my face practically into the green glob. Okay, no moss, no lichen. It was some kind of algae that was growing on land.
Frantically I grasped for the hand that held me at the back of my neck and swatted it to make him let me down, which he did.
Eventually.
Gasping I stood there with my knees shaking and tried to get enough air into my lungs, interspersed with coughing-fits.
Joy.
How about him accepting the clause about me not being harmed…?

When I finally felt well enough, I looked up and saw Fenrir staring at me in a very, VERY weird way. “It’s some kind of algae, but I don’t really know of any that grow on trees outside of rain- or mist-forests”, I answered his question from before in a raspy voice.
His brows furrowed and he forced my hands away from my throat. I could imagine the angry red line that my collar had pressed into my skin.
“Why are you so fragile? Stop being so fucking fragile!”

Uhm… come again? How exactly was I supposed to make myself less fragile?!

He seemed to think the situation handled with that, though. And it probably was. I hadn’t complained, anyway.
“Yes, it belongs to the algae family, it is magical, though. Scratch it from the trunk and it lights up like a Lumos for somewhere between three and four hours.
Cool! I would have liked to take pictures of the algae though, to remember what it looked like.

Sometimes I really missed my smartphone.

“Uhm… Could you get me up there again, but WITHOUT nearly strangling me?”, I asked, trying very hard to make it sound friendly, maybe even a little teasing, but with still enough force for him to understand I was serious without sounding haughty.
Needless to say… it didn’t work.
For one, the only nuancing I was capable of was haughty, haughtier and scathing. The other problem was him obviously not caring one iota for nuances in people’s speech patterns. So… he gave me a flat stare and again grumbled something. I wasn’t completely sure but I thought I heard him call me a “stuck-up prissy pureblood bitch”.
Nice.
…
Wait, had he just called me a pureblood?
…
Nah, I must have heard wrong.

Without warning he grabbed me around my waist and hefted me on his left shoulder, which was broad enough for me to sit on comfortably.

Creepy.
And cosy.
Creepy-cosy.
And now my thoughts were getting ever creepier.

I then took out my notebook and started sketching and describing what the patch of algae looked like.
“What specifics does it have? Anything used to identify it besides it growing on trees?”, I asked curiously. “Scratch some off”, Fenrir rumbled and made my whole body vibrate with it.
Okaaay. That was kind of weird.
So, I broke a piece of bark off the trunk and scraped a bit of the algae away. The roots (which was weird enough, I had never seen roots on algae) were of a luminescent blue colour. The same colour took over the whole scraped off part and it began to glow like a little star in my hands.
It even glittered a little.
“Awesome!”, I whispered and couldn’t keep a wide smile from my face, not even when the big fella brought me down to the ground again.
“This is amazing!”, I told him, feeling giddy. “Are there any other uses for these? And what is it called, anyway? Does the glow fade away gradually or what happens when it loses its luminescence? Where can it be found? Are there any historical records about its uses? Can you-…”
A big hand covered my mouth – and nearly all of my face. “Be quiet!”, he groaned. “How does Lucius stand your fucking questions?!”
I blinked when Fenrir didn’t take away his hand but still seemed to expect an answer. So, I pointed to his hand covering my chin, mouth, nose, left eye, left part of my forehead, and my left ear.
He looked a bit confused first, before quickly taking his hand away.
“Why are you so tiny? Stop being so fucking tiny!”

…
Well.

Chapter Text

Fenrir stayed for dinner. He had shown me five more plants that were growing in the garden/park (I will stay with PARK from now on. NO WAY was this counting as a garden) with magical properties. One had cleaning agents; it cleaned off everything, even harmful bacteria and rotten flesh, but nothing healthy, one stopped a bleeding immediately (while imbibing the blood and actually growing in your hand – and afterwards running away to find another place to take root), one gave off warmth when you tickled it, one would gnaw on you if you came to close, without actually taking a bite out of you, which was very useful to get rid of ticks or the magical equivalent, and one gave off a weird liquid that kept any kind of insects away, while also being a great cure for acne.

Since I had made him nearly tear out half of his hair with my questions, this had lasted until my living alarm clock had appeared and had poked me into my side. Hard.
So, when Narcissa had seen that we were still at it, she had demanded for Fenrir to stay and declared him a permanent dinner guest for Friday evenings.

Not that Fenrir had put up much of a fight.

“So, how is our dear Hermione doing in your class?”, asked the matriarch with a kind smile.
I winced. Fenrir had complained the whole five hours we had spent outside about me asking too many questions, about my senses being too weak, about me being too tiny, too fragile, too slow, too thin, too light-skinned, too weak, too… too much eight year old human girl, to summarize it.

He grumbled.
“Annoying. Extremely annoying. She asks too many questions. Good with plants, though. Not afraid to get her hands dirty, like the other prissy purebloods. I should bite her, though, she’s too fragile. Would make a good bitch.”
I stared at him with wide eyes. Was he actually talking about making me a werewolf?!
And I might be a bit bitchy, sometimes, but I had actually been on my best behaviour the past five hours!
Lucius cleared his throat. “I’m glad you like her. No biting, though.”

Wait… what?

I mean… good, but… was that all he had to say?!
Obviously, it was. The next question came from Narcissa: “Where are you staying at the moment, Fenrir?”
He only shrugged and took another bite of his nearly completely raw steak. “Here and there.”
“You’ll stay here, then.”

Wait, WHAT?!

If I hadn’t been so shocked myself, I would have appreciated Lucius’ face more. He looked at his wife as if she had just declared their emigration into the muggle world.
“Darling, I don’t think-…”, he started, but Narcissa just waved his objection away and ignored the equally horrified expression on Fenrir’s face.
“We have the space and he seems to get along very well with Hermione.”

Uhm… and what part of the conversation had made her think THAT?!
We shared a panicked look.

“You know how she’s always out alone in the evenings. What if something happened to her? And can you even imagine how boring it must be, running around on your own? Fenrir would be perfect!”

Uhm… I actually didn’t have a problem with being alone.

“And if he doesn’t want to live in the house, the little hut sits empty.”
Lucius opened his mouth to object, but a hard look was everything it took for him to cave. Obviously, it was Narcissa who wore the pants in the relationship when she really wanted to.
Fenrir hadn’t moved at all while the older Malfoys had decided this, just stared at them with wide eyes. Draco was staring as well. I was really proud of him for not having run out of the room screaming when he realized who our dinner guest would be, as he was deathly afraid of werewolves.

Fenrir looked as if he’d been struck by lightning. It was quite clear he didn’t have a say in the matter. He tried to object, but Narcissa just (very gracefully) shot down everything he tried.
So, it was soon settled, Fenrir would move into the little hut close to the forest, which I had thought to be the border to Malfoy owned land, but, as I had just learned, was just a small part of it.
Whatever. I had always wanted my own forest. This was the next best thing.

I still wasn’t sure about Greyback moving here, though. He was a werewolf, after all. What would happen around the full moon? I did not fancy getting mauled to death. And Fenrir definitely wouldn’t drink the Wolvesbayne potion, that much was more than clear.

Anyway, it was done.

Narcissa also forced the poor guy to keep me company while running around the lake. Not that he actually had to run, one stride of his equalled three to four of mine.

Jeesh, I hated tall people.

He waited until I had completed my run to start talking: “You’re annoying.”
What a nice start.
“Yes, you mentioned. Thirty-two times today.”
He blinked, but otherwise didn’t react. “You’d still make a good bitch. Find me, if you change your mind.”
With that he jogged away, in the direction of his new hut. I was left feeling a bit…

Huh?!

…

Oh, bitch! Riiight! Female dog or wolf!

Wait. Did he just tell me I should think about becoming a werewolf?

…

No. Just… no. As cool as some of the abilities gained were, I had no nerve for other people’s reactions.
And I didn’t want to depend on the moon.
So… no.

Chapter Text

I had realized in Muggle Studies that Draco was far more behind than I had thought possible. Yes, his English wasn’t bad, but he had no one who checked his spelling or could tell him why which grammar rule was applied and so on. So, I decided to start from the beginning the Saturday after.

Practical lessons on Sunday went better than expected. Since my magic was bubbling quite close to the surface and since I now knew how to connect to my core, Draco didn’t find it too difficult to get me to the point where I could summon magic at will.
That didn’t mean I was able to do magic at will, mind you, but I slowly learned to consciously draw on it and make it wander into my wand hand.
I had weirdly gained another of those coils that were situated in my knees, shoulders and elbows, throat and brain, this one in my right wrist.
Funny.

The weekend progressed too fast for my taste. I had completed my homework in Wizarding Literature Saturday morning and had also read the book on Art of Seeking, the first Magical Basic we would cover on Tuesday.

And then it was Monday.

It was really hard for me to concentrate on History, Etiquette and Magical Theory (though the last one was really challenging, since Hermione hadn’t had as deep an interest in evolution as I would have liked, and therefore had only had the most rudimentary books on the matter, but they would do for Mr. Yaxley and Madam Longbottom. They had not the slightest clue about the subject, after all.
So, when Mr. Selwyn entered the room, everything inside of me clenched even more, like period cramps, just… worse.
I knew though, that I had to relax. I wouldn’t be able to “hold the glow” otherwise, as they called it.
Selwyn sent me a nasty look, obviously sure of the fact that I would be exposed as the fraud he thought me to be, but that just hardened my resolve.
He would be SO damn sorry.

Two minutes later, in which the Death Eater hadn’t even returned my greeting, Lucius entered.
“Are you ready?”, he asked me and I nodded, trying to hide my nerves, but I was sure he could see my knees shaking. Then, suddenly, the door opened again and a house elf led the person in that would oversee my examination.

The button I had just ripped from my blouse in agitation clattered on the floor.

It was… it was…
I couldn’t get my face under control; it just didn’t listen to what my brain was telling it to do. He was tall, a bit taller than Lucius even, if slightly leaner. His black hair was in disarray, probably from him yanking his hands through it in frustration, if his scowl was any indication. Those black eyes were far from nice, latching onto me and sending bolts of… something through my body.

Probably not the SOMETHING he had intended, though.

Snape. SNAPE. Severus FUCKING Snape!!!
Genius prodigy, youngest potion master in all of Europe, youngest person ever to hold two masteries, one in potions and one in defence, inventor of most of the commonly used healing potions today and… my personal favourite literary crush.
I swallowed to force some semblance of control into my body, which worked… well… somehow.
A bit.

The potions professor sneered in my direction, before turning to Lucius: “THIS is the chit you were talking about? The one that impressed everyone at that ministry function? Seriously?”

Well, thank you, Sir, for insinuating I was a simpering, half-witted twit.

Thankfully, that got me out of my state of shock, but I forced myself to reply in a more or less polite tone of voice: “The CHIT is called Hermione Granger, if you would, Sir. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Snape.”
His brow furrowed and he sent a look at Lucius who nearly unperceptively shook his head, before focussing on me again.
I really, REALLY needed to make him forget my momentary loss of composure, so I just smiled at him as politely as I was able to and lay down on the mat. “Shall we?”

Selwyn and Snape exchanged a few words of greeting before sitting down on either side of me.
Something warm and hard pressed into my side and I nearly started to hyperventilate when I realized it was Snape’s knee touching me, before he moved away.

Okay, I really needed to get a hold of myself.

So, breathe, breeeeathe…

“Get on with it, concentrate!”, Selwyn snarled and I forced my body to relax. I breathed in and breathed out, in and out, until I reached the stage where my glow slowly started to come to the surface of my consciousness.
“Are you done yet?!”, Selwyn snarled and my eyes sprang open again. I stared at him. Was he for real?!
I frowned at him. “Do not worry, Mr. Selwyn, I am quite capable of informing you when I have found the glow, as you well know, even though I am but a lowly muggleborn. But it would work better, if you would just keep quiet and let me concentrate, will you?”
The last part I aimed at him with quite a bit of sharpness in my voice that seemed to surprise not only him but Snape as well.
With a practiced sneer I lay down again and concentrated, breathing in and out, in and out. Slowly my glow rose to the surface again and-…
“See, she’s not capable of doing it!”, Selwyn snorted loudly and I lost it again.

My left eyelid started twitching.
But I didn’t seem to be the only one to lose patience with the death eater.
“Darren…”, Lucius started, his voice dangerously low, but it was Snape’s snarl that got me staring at him.
“I do not have time for your petty games. Be quiet or leave. I am quite capable of performing the procedure myself, if you don’t feel up to the task.”
His voice dripped with derision and I barely managed to hold in a squeak.
His voice was so damned hot when he was angry!!! It was a rough snarl, cold and sharp and biting and…
I coughed discreetly.
Down, girl.

“Lie back, girl”, he now snarled at me and I immediately complied.
Okay, breathing. Breathe in… breathe out. Breathe in… breathe out.
And there it was, with all the coils slowly curling around themselves.

“Got it”, I informed them.

“Now open your eyes, slowly, don’t lose the glow”, Snape directed me. I found it much easier to follow his directions than Selwyn’s. It took me about a minute to open my eyes without letting the glow fade in the light, but after a few tries I managed.

“Got it.”

“Now look at me”, he continued, and I felt tentative fingers of… something somehow prodding a part of myself I hadn’t realized could actually… well… FEEL. It was like… like someone tried to tickle the backs of my eyeballs, for lack of a better description. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it definitely wasn’t nice either.
“Good, now look at Mr. Selwyn.”
I did as I was told and felt something… slimy worm its way into my brain. Ugh! I didn’t want that inside of me!
I shuddered, even in my meditative state, but did my best to keep calm.

That resolution didn’t hold for long, though.
The slimy fingers started poking and prodding in places I most definitely didn’t want them to be. A memory came forward of me sitting in my bedroom in the manor, hugging Brynn. Innocent enough, but the point was that I didn’t want him seeing ANYTHING my mind had to offer.
I wanted him out, NOW!

“Selwyn…”

I heard the warning tone like an echo far away, but couldn’t concentrate on it as I tried desperately to get the slimy presence out of my head.
I could feel my body starting to seize up, but couldn’t do anything about it.
Shit. I needed him out!
Thoughts started racing through my mind. What could help me get rid of this presence? I needed something like… like an immune system! Like antivirus for PC! Or… or a firewall! Bloody hell, I just wanted it gone!!!

Warm fingers guided my mind, forced me to weave a net… I could only sit back and watch as the net was flung.

“What the…?!”

I sat upright, panting like I had just run a marathon and… was exactly as shaky too.

“I refuse to be taught by this person any longer”, I stated and tried to get up, but everything started to blur around me.
“What…?”, I asked weakly, before my legs gave out under me and I crashed to the ground again.

Gosh, I felt sick.
My stomach roiled and I felt as if the ground under me was moving on its own.

I barely managed to turn my face into a direction not occupied by one of the three men before I lost everything I had eaten this day.

Joy.

I hated vomiting.
It made me feel weak and lose my control over my limbs and it looked disgusting and smelled even more so…
I heaved again.
And the smell made me even more sick.

“Evanesco!”
Suddenly the disgusting puddle was gone, as was the smell.
Thank the gods.

While I just sat there and tried to get my bearings, the three men stared at each other.

“What exactly happened there?”, asked Lucius in a deceptively calm tone of voice, though I could see from the hard glint in his eyes that he was furious.

“She threw me out! See, she HAS something to hide! There was no glow and no muggleborn could ever perform Occlumency, THERE is your proof! She’s fooling you, Lucius, she’s lying to you!”

Spittle flew from his mouth and Lucius wiped a few stray drops from his face with a barely veiled expression of disgust, before turning to Snape.

“He tried to enter the girl’s memories”, he stated coldly, “so I made her throw him out. He didn’t even try to see the glow.”

“WHAT?! Preposterous!!!”

While the two men started to throw each other mean looks, I tried to get rid of the disgusting taste in my mouth.
Unsuccessfully, I must add. At least, until Lucius flicked his wand and the taste of peppermint spread over my taste buds.

Nice!

“Miss Granger”, Lucius finally decided to nip the coming fight in the bud, “could you describe what happened?”
Finally SOMEONE asked the third person involved. After all, it wasn’t like it was my mind and memories that had been violated or anything.
Pah.

“Mr. Snape entered my mind first, but didn’t act untoward in any way. Then Mr. Selwyn entered my mind and started prodding. He watched one of my memories. I wanted him out and gone, but didn’t know how, until someone, presumably Mr. Snape, made me weave a mental net and flung it at Mr. Selwyns mental presence in my mind.”

The three men stared at me, Snape with an icy stare, Lucius demonstratively passive and Selwyn with a look of disgust.
“You’re lying!!! You’re just a mudblood!”
I could see a muscle in Snape’s left cheek twitch at that, but he didn’t react otherwise.

“Darren.”
Lucius’ voice was as hard and cold as steel and stopped the man from the rant he had wanted to start.
“You are no longer welcome in my house.”

It just so happened that Malfoy Manor had some kind of Oulde Magick imbued in its substance, keyed to the Malfoy family bloodline, and that the words Lucius had spoken had awakened one aspect of this Magick.
Selwyn was grabbed by invisible hands and wrenched off his feet before being dragged outside, meeting as many corners and door frames as possible.

It took a while for the echoes of his screams to fade completely.

“So… what about my core examination now?”, I asked, which earned me two raised left eyebrows courtesy of my favourite fictional characters in the Harry Potter universe.

Snape sighed heavily and sat down again.
“Lie down, find the glow. I’ll do it. Can’t be worse than what that idiot tried…”

It took me longer than anticipated to find my glow now. It seemed like the events of this afternoon had stirred something inside of me, but after about fifteen minutes I managed to coax it to the surface and to hold on to it as well.

“I got it.”

I then opened my eyes slowly, careful not to lose the connection to my core, and looked into the black eyes of my future potions professor. Again I felt the warm fingers tickling the back of my eyeballs, but I kind of welcomed the feeling. They felt far nicer than the slimy ones that had come from Selwyn’s magic.
“Good. I will now delve into your magical being. Brace yourself.”

Since I had no idea how to brace for something I had no idea about, I took a deep breath and held it as long as I could.
“Breathe, you idiot!”, the dark-haired man snarled and I let the air out audibly.
“Severus!”, administered Lucius his choice of words sharply, but the potion master ignored him.
As did I.

“Now, pull the glow closer to the surface. Closer… a bit more… ”
Then he was suddenly quiet.
I really wanted to know what had happened, but even though my eyes were open I could only see my glow, nothing else.

“Describe your core to me, girl”, he demanded, and so I did. I tried my best to describe the strands going in some kind of pulsing net through my body and the coils sitting in my knees, right wrist, elbows, shoulders, throat and brain and also the glow from my heart, even though it still wasn’t connected to the centre point in my gut.
“How does it feel?”, he further asked and I tried to put the feelings my core evoked inside of me into words. “It’s warm, really warm. And it feels… different from last week.”
“How so?”, he asked, his voice barely hiding his curiosity.
“It kind of… vibrates a little. Like a cat purring, and it is equally as… calming, I think, is the right word. It somehow feels like safety…”

I could feel Snape leaving my magical being and my mind and I felt weirdly bereft when I let go of my glow.
Right then I knew what my core really felt like. A hug. A hug of someone I loved, and who loved me in return. That’s exactly what it felt like.
I didn’t say so, though.

“Lucius”, Snape said, while getting to his feet, “we need to talk.”

Chapter Text

I saw neither Snape nor Lucius again for the rest of the week. The classes on Tuesday afternoon, Wizarding Politics and Magical Basics, were cancelled, so I spent the afternoon doing my History homework and reading about the Art of Seeking, which was really interesting, not much different from finding one’s core, actually.
You had to sink into a meditative state, but instead of looking inside, you sent your feelers outward to seek out ambient magic, magical artefacts, magical beasts, plants or wizards and witches themselves. Allegedly, there was an Unspeakable who had perfected the art and was called to find things and people magically hidden. Normally, one couldn’t move or even talk while in that state, but this Unspeakable could. He could walk around and talk and even apparate, if he so chose.

As soon as I had finished the book, though, I felt the pressing need to go outside. Therefore I first gathered Brynn, who lay on the porch watching the tendrils of fall mist swirl around the park, and then went over to Fenrir’s hut.

It was a little log cabin with tiny windows and a narrow door. How big, bulky Fenrir could enter that, I had no idea. Still, there was smoke coming out of the chimney, so he was probably home.

I knocked politely, but there was no answer.

So, I knocked again.

No answer.

“Fenrir…?”

Still nothing.

Curious and the slightest bit concerned now, I tried the door and blinked in surprise when it opened easily and gave way into a cosy little living room and adjourning kitchen. The smoke stemmed from the fireplace in here, probably stacked and lighted by the house elves.
Brynn whined and tucked its tail but followed me dutifully despite its fear.
Maybe I should stop calling him “it”. He clearly wanted to protect me. “Good doggy”, I mumbled and scratched him behind his ears. That seemed to help a bit, if not much.
I didn’t think it appropriate to snoop, so I sneaked further in and through the door into a small corridor with two more doors leading from it. One hid the bathroom and one… stairs. Slowly, and careful not to make any noise, I crept up until I reached another corridor with two doors.
One door stood slightly ajar, so this was the first one I checked. It led into a room that was very obviously Fenrir’s bedroom. It wasn’t… well, it was clean, but really untidy. And in the enormous bed lay the gruff werewolf, not moving at all.

Something cold clamped around my heart and I immediately rushed over.
“Fenrir? Hey?! Come on, say something!”
I knew I sounded slightly hysterical, but I couldn’t help it!
Desperate, I shook his shoulder, but he didn’t react.
Okay, okay, what had I learned in the first aid class? First rule: Stay calm.
HOW THE HELL WAS I TO STAY CALM???

I desperately tried to force my body to relax so I was able to think.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
Just one breath after the other.

I would NOT panic.

Sufficiently calm(ish) I again grabbed the bare shoulder. It was warm, but not overly so. A good sign. I next checked his pulse. It was racing! I then realized that his breath also came in fast, shallow puffs, absolutely not what I had come to associate with the werewolf. Still, relief coursed through me and made me lightheaded for a moment, until I sat down beside the mountain of a man.

So, he definitely was alive. But he obviously wasn’t well, so I should probably go and get someone.
“You stay here, I’ll go get help”, I stated. Whom exactly I was talking to was a mystery to myself, but well.
When I tried to get up again, though, a hand shot up and grabbed me around my neck.
My heart missed a beat and I let out an undignified squeak, but that didn’t matter when I was relentlessly pulled down onto the bed and crowded by a giant male body.

…
Huh.

Big, bulky, HARD muscles pressed against my body as I lay there, stiff as a board, eyes as big as saucers, I assumed.

And Fenrir… started snoring.

I lay there, blinking, confused, while I was being cuddled by a huge werewolf like I was some kind of plush toy or something.
It was… weird.
Had I been my own age, I would have thoroughly enjoyed this situation and maybe taken advantage of it even, but I was only bloody eight years old. How did a child react to a situation like this? Fenrir was supposed to be my teacher!

Experimentally I tried to wriggle out of the cage of his arms, but he unconsciously tightened his hold on me and even slung a leg around my lower body, and I soon gave up. Strength wise I was no match for the mountain of muscles that masqueraded as Fenrir. Even when he was sleeping.

“… Help…?”
The only one in hearing distance was Brynn, and he just sat there, tongue lolling out and looking like he was laughing at me for all it was worth.

So. Who could help me in this situation? Lucius or Narcissa would probably know what to do. So, how to get them here?
It took me a few seconds to realize that I was in a bloody wizarding home. And I would have executed a perfect facepalm – if my hands had been free.
“Minnie?”, I called into the silence of the hut and it didn’t take long for a PLOP to signify her arrival. I sighed in relief. “Hello Minnie, could you maybe do me the favour of getting one of your masters here? I seem to have been caught in some kind of… bind…”
The house elf stared at me, as I wriggled in emphasis and the arms tightened around me. Immediately she stifled a squeak and disappeared.

It took ten minutes for the cavalry to arrive in the form of one Narcissa Malfoy, who froze completely when confronted with the surely quite ridiculous image.
“Oh, thank Merlin”, I called and wanted to greet her properly, but the steel bands aka arms just pulled me closer to the barrel chest.
The blonde stared for quite a while, doing nothing to help me out of my predicament.
“Uhm… Narcissa…?”, I asked, a bit confused, and she blinked, like I had just ripped her out of deep thoughts.
“Minnie”, she then asked the house elf, “would you be so kind as to bring me the blue leather case from my sitting room? And please sear a steak just slightly, the way Mr. Greyback likes it, and bring it over as well…”
Huh. I just realized I had never before heard the lady of the house talk with the elves. Was it normal to be this polite? I mean, I tried to be, but I had always thought wizardkind would never do that. Never say please and thank you, and order rather than ask. Or maybe Narcissa was just… well… Narcissa.
Minnie popped away, returning with a blue rectangular box and popping away again immediately after Narcissa had expressed her gratitude.

She smiled and held up the box. “Don’t worry, Hermione, we will sort this out.”
With this she opened it and got a camera out.
A… camera.
Seriously?!
“This will give me blackmail material for years to come”, she stated with an evil smirk I would never have expected on her perfect face, and clicked away.
A sigh worked its way out of my throat, but I resigned myself to my fate. It wasn’t like I could have done anything about it.
“Try turning around, please, and cuddle into his embrace, will you? And could you try looking less… annoyed?”

Was she for real?!

…

Apparently, she was.

Whatever.

It took a while for me to turn in the tight embrace, but I managed it and snuggled up to the delectable body surrounding me.

Now that I thought about it, it felt really nice. I was a hugger and a cuddler, and I had missed both quite a bit since I had come here. Hermione’s parents didn’t have the time, Madam Beauregard had never shown an inclination to do so (and I wouldn’t have wanted it from her anyway) and the Malfoys were… well… the Malfoys. Not exactly people I would call overly affectionate.
Fenrir, though, seemed more than ready to give me my fair share of cuddles.
While he slept, at least.

And he smelled good. Like forest and leather and soap and a little bit metallic and warm man.

“Perfect”, the Malfoy matriarch told me a few minutes later and I did my best to turn around again so I could actually see her.
She wore a weirdly dignified smirk. Everything she did seemed dignified, even if she collected blackmail material.

I SO wanted to be like her.
No, actually, I wanted to BE her.
Kind of.
And hey, then I would be married to Lucius…
Hm… definitely not a bad thought.

But that was definitely something I should not be thinking about. I liked Narcissa. I was eight years old. And I lay in bed with a bloody werewolf.

Sometimes I was really getting worried about the state of my mind.

Right then Minnie popped in again, a huge plate of barely seared steaks balancing on her oversized head.
The smell hit me immediately and my stomach grumbled. It also hit Fenrir, obviously, because he started twitching and rustling and… pulling me even closer and holding me even tighter.
If he continued like that he would shortly cuddle a dead muggleborn, that much was for sure.

It took him a while to get fully conscious, but even then he didn’t react immediately. He rather tried to make sense of the situation first, obviously.

I could not imagine why.
After all, where he had fallen asleep alone, there was now an eight year old girl in his bed, he was being observed by one of his hosts and there also was a house elf carrying a platter of steaks.

So… Nothing to worry about.

He reacted as expected: got up, grabbed the plate and... pulled me against him once more.

Wait… what?!

Completely bewildered I stared at him and opened my mouth to say something (though I had no idea WHAT, exactly), but stopped, when his big hand covered my mouth as well as half of my face.

AGAIN, I might add.

“Just be quiet.”

With that he stuffed the first steak into his mouth. In its entirety. The whole bloody steak just disappeared into his mouth.
How did he do that?! Those were enormous slabs of meat!

And the next one disappeared.
And the next.
Aaand the next.
It took Fenrir less than two minutes to devour eight large steaks.

I was in awe.

After licking the juices from his fingers he got up, me kind of uncomfortably dangling in his arms, and declaring for Narcissa’s benefit: “I’m going to take a shower. Make yourself at home.”
And then he walked out.

Me STILL hanging out somewhere above ground.

“Uhm… Fenrir…”, I started, but was shushed again by his big paw of a hand. This time, though, I wouldn’t just keep still, so I bit his finger.

He tasted… nice, actually. Salty, and a bit like the meat he had just consumed.

Instead of screaming in pain and rage, Fenrir took his hand back and looked at the tiny red ring I had left. “You really need to sharpen your teeth, you know. This is embarrassing”, was all he said.

Wonderful.

But back to why I had bitten him.
“I REFUSE to be taken into the shower with you”, I stated, as calmly as possible with the air being pressed out of my lungs and trying fruitlessly to look firm and dignified.
“I have to agree with this sentiment, Fenrir, It is hardly proper to take Hermione with you.”
Narcissa to the rescue! Yay!

Fenrir looked from me to the blonde and back again.
“Why not?”

Had he really just asked, why he couldn’t take a shower with me?!

“Because I am a girl”, I stated slowly, enunciating every syllable.

He still didn’t seem to get it.

“And because I am eight years old.”

It was funny being able to read the “So what?!” off Fenrir’s uncomprehending face, but I was still glad when Narcissa decided to put a stop to this farce.

“It wouldn’t be proper. You need to shower alone and Hermione will shower alone as well. Put her down, now.”

Uuuh, her voice sounded hard and steely and commanding, without losing the touch of elegance that accompanied everything Narcissa Malfoy said or did.

That woman was my hero.

Fenrir put me down reluctantly, but kept a hold of my shoulder and… WHINED.
“I know, I know…”, Narcissa soothed and… petted the guy.

She had to get onto her toes for that and stretch up noticeably.

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head.
What the hell was happening right now?! Was this some kind of glide into OOC-universe?! Was I dreaming? Maybe I had fallen asleep in Fenrir’s bed? Or even before, over my books?

“You should become a werewolf, Cissa”, the big baby purred, pressing his head into her hand. “I would bite you, you know? And I would teach you.”

“This is very generous of you, but I am quite content with my life as it is. Let go of her now, she will still be here in the morning.”
With that she resolutely took me by my arm and towed me outside.

“Don’t worry, he will be back to his usual gruff self by the morning after the next. It’s the full moon. Without a pack he feels lonely.”

Oh. Oooooh.
Okay, that, I could understand.

Since I was warned, though, I spent my evening barricaded in my bedroom, Brynn by my side, and my sleep often interrupted by lonely howls echoing through the night.

Chapter Text

On Friday afternoon, instead of learning about Flora and Fauna (since Fenrir seemed to have disappeared), I got Narcissa to go into the muggle world with me to set up a post box. I also ordered bibliographies in different scientific subjects and some muggle books on literary eras, evolution, botany, zoology, history, politics and technical developments, then some muggle classics and also some school books on English, Maths, Geography, Biology, Physics, Chemistry, History, Art and Music, for primary school level as well as up to lower secondary.
That should do the trick.

Poor Draco now had to learn the rules of English Grammar and Orthography and the basics of Mathematics.

It was past time, though.

Greyback… I hadn’t seen him since Tuesday. He hadn’t joined me on my evening runs and didn’t answer his always locked door. There was also no explanation.

So… Lucius had disappeared.
Fenrir had disappeared.
Two of my teachers just didn’t seem to find it prudent to appear to their lessons.

Maybe it was me? Was I such an annoying, ungrateful student that they couldn’t stomach to teach me two weeks in a row?
I mean, I knew I could be annoying. I was curious and I asked questions and even questioned things known as facts. Some teachers hated students like me, because I always prepared for my lessons and partly corrected them on something. Not that this had happened in my wizarding education so far, but in my philosophy course at high school, my vocational school that had prepared me for working in a library and even in university once or twice, I had taken over the class, much to the annoyance of the teachers and professors.

It was their own fault for not preparing enough, though.

Okay, yeah, I really could be annoying. An annoying know-it-all, sometimes, even.

…

I really hoped I wouldn’t end up with a disposition like the real Hermione.

Anyway, I wasn’t exactly sure what to think about my two suddenly free afternoons. On Saturday morning I had no homework to complete anymore, no Muggle Studies lesson to think up, had prepared for all my lessons the next week and now just sat there, a little bit stunned.

What now?

I had gotten myself so used to the constant learning and moving and practicing, I felt at a loss somehow on what to do now. I didn’t have any friends here, no family, I couldn’t do housework, didn’t want to go for a hike in the pouring rain, there was no TV, nothing I wanted to read, I didn’t have the materials for making jewellery or binding books or sewing, Draco was visiting some friends until we would meet up for our Muggle Studies session…

Simply put: I was bored.

The only thing that came to mind was meditating and practicing to reach my core, which… in lieu of anything else I could or wanted to do, was, what I decided on.
Three hours I spent meditating, trying to make my magic do what I wanted it to do.
I had managed to let it spread through my whole body now. I could let it flow out of both of my hands even.
I just couldn’t direct it yet.

It frustrated me to no end.

After getting bored with this I tried to lessen the time it took to get a hold of my glow. If I was allowed to concentrate, I could bring it to the surface in five minutes.
Having a house elf sitting beside me taking the time, I was stunned when I saw another new coil in my left hand. So, I now had coils in my knees, my shoulders, my elbows, my wrists, my brain, my throat and, of course, the centre, my gut. And the not connected heart.

If I only had an inkling about what this actually meant, that would be very helpful.
I didn’t, though, so I just hoped that I would get another teacher in Magical Core soon.
Preferably someone who wouldn’t call me liar or fraud every ten minutes.

When I entered the room designated for Muggle Studies after lunch, though, the day took an interesting turn. Instead of the round table where we had sat the week before, there now were a blackboard and a desk facing the rest of the room that was filled with five school desks. It actually looked like a proper class.

One of my eyebrows climbed upwards, but I decided not to think too much on this. I went to the teacher’s table and set up my stuff before looking about to see if I would stumble over a clue as to what the different setup meant.

Five minutes before the allotted time the door opened and Draco entered.

He was not alone, though.

With him came a guy who was far too pretty for his own good, black, wavy hair, mysterious dark eyes, tan complexion, straight nose, daring eyebrows, high cheekbones, full lips and glittering white teeth halfway hidden by a dashing smile.
Had he been about twenty years older, I would have certainly been attracted to him, but as it was, he was eight.
The two were followed by two girls. The scowling one had shoulder length straight black hair, light blue eyes, pale skin and a nose that was slightly upturned, the one with the carefully neutral expression sported blond waves that fell to her hips, eyes a mixture of blue and green and a slight tilt to the mouth that declared her to be rather spoilt.

What exactly was happening?

The four each took a seat and the dark-haired girl directed her scowl at me. “So your parents made you come too, huh? Which family are you from? I’m Pansy. Pansy Parkinson. And that’s Daphne Greengrass. And Blaise Zabini. You know Draco already, I gather.”

In my peripheral vision I could see Draco sighing inaudibly.

Yay.
I now had four muggle-hating future Slytherins in my class.
Joy.

“Good afternoon, Miss Parkinson, Miss Greengrass, Mister Zabini.”
I greeted every one of them with a slight nod. The girls blinked, slightly confused, but Blaise’ grin just grew wider.
He obviously knew who I was.

Not that great a feat when his mother was teaching me Wizarding Literature.

“My name is Hermione Granger, and even though no one saw it fit to inform me, it seems I am to be your teacher.”

Daphne’s quill fell to the floor.

“You can call me Miss Granger until you have earned the right to call me by my first name, which will happen as soon as I can see your dedication to learn and to better yourself. Today I will test your grasp on English Orthography and Grammar and also where you stand in Mathematics. I would advise you to use one notebook for each subject, as you will be expected to revise what you have learned regularly. I expect neat and well-arranged notes, no single sheets of parchment fluttering about, so muggle notebooks are advised.”

There was complete silence in the room.
Daphne stared at me as if I had grown a second head, while Pansy didn’t seem to have worked out the meaning of my words yet. Draco hid his eyes behind his left hand and Blaise… grinned.

Maybe he was daft.

“I will not stand for laziness in this class. If there is something you don’t understand, tell me and I will explain again. I will also offer additional one-on-one lessons Sunday morning, if needed. Therefore, you won’t have an excuse to fail your tests. Fail twice in a row and you are out of my class.”

“YOU will teach us?!”
Pansy’s shrill voice screeched like nails on a blackboard and I had to suppress a shudder. She hadn’t sounded like this before! Seriously, she really could learn a lot from Narcissa’s Etiquette lessons!
“That’s what it looks like”, I answered in the calmest manner possible.

A knock on the door broke the shock and everyone’s eyes swivelled to their left.
“Come in, please.”
The door opened and Narcissa entered, followed by a brunette boy with wary eyes.
“Ah, you are all here already”, she stated with a soft smile and guided the boy to the last remaining desk. “Hermione, I do hope you won’t mind the added students? I am sorry for not informing you earlier, but it was quite short notice. This is Theodore Nott, he will also take part in your lessons. Theodore, this is Hermione Granger, your teacher in Muggle Studies. You do know the rest, I assume?”

Theo nodded gloomily and sat down.

“If they don’t study, they are out”, I informed the Malfoy matriarch. “If they show disrespect or rudeness, they are out. If they don’t do as they are told without a good reason, they will get reprimanded and be given warnings. Three warnings result in impositions. Five result in exclusion. Those are my rules. I would ask you to inform their parents about them.”
Narcissa’s control over her features was marvellous indeed. She only blinked twice in a too short amount of time, which indicated her surprise. She nodded, though and smiled politely.
“Of course. I will see you at dinner.”

With this, she left, leaving behind a group of stunned kids not really knowing how to react.

I turned back to them.
“Take out your parchments, notebooks or whatever you have, we will start with a simple dictation.”

Chapter Text

It was amazing how extremely far behind the Slytherins were.
I had started with a simple dictation, and then done some writing and comprehensive reading exercises, followed by some basic grammar questions. For Maths I tested very basic Elementary Arithmetic and the Multiplication Table.

Gaia, help me, but they weren’t even on the level I was at when I was in Kindergarten.
Well, Blaise was good. He was REALLY good, actually. At least in everything concerning English. He sucked at Maths. Like… REALLY sucked. Daphne was rather good in that subject, though.

The worst in every single test was Theo. The poor guy didn’t seem to have even the slightest grasp on numbers and couldn’t even count to thirty. His writing looked like a Kindergartener painting his name and I won’t even start on his reading abilities.

I definitely had my work cut out for myself.

On a positive note, the four new kids seemed to be far too overwhelmed by my teacher-like behaviour to act out against being taught by someone they deemed inferior.
Well.
Since my parents and my sister were all teachers and I had also been responsible for teaching all college students in our region how to do scientific research, paired with my past as a private tutor while at school, I could pull that one off pretty nicely.

Sunday started early with extra tutoring for Theo. He was the one who needed it most. For two hours I let him write the alphabet and some very easy words and tried to get him to understand the logic behind addition and subtraction. I also gave him some work sheets on counting to 100.

More meditation with Draco followed in my Practical lessons.

I then continued with Pansy, though she was joined by Blaise for one hour of Maths and by Daphne for one hour of English.
If those three kept it up for the rest of the week, they would at least all be around the same level as Draco.

I hoped.

Theo had stayed while I had taught the others, working on some assignments I had given him, and trying to read a basic text.
In the afternoon we went over his work, I marked it and rectified it with him so he could see his shortcomings and learn from his mistakes. This was followed by another two hours of extensive tutoring.

In the evening… I was beat.
Teaching was extremely taxing, especially if you were on a tight schedule. I needed to get those five up to speed before we would leave for Hogwarts. While also getting me up to speed on everything magic-related. Though… I kind of got the feeling that none of my students had as much knowledge about the wizarding world as I already had after only two weeks, which unnerved me a little bit.
What was Lucius planning, pressing me onwards like that? Or was it in response to the happenings at the ministry function?

I just didn’t know. And I wasn’t even sure if Lucius knew. Well, I HOPED he did, but…
I was confused. I simply was confused.
And I’d leave it at that.
I would read and learn and teach as much as possible, and I’d see where this was going soon enough.

On Monday, Magical Theory took another turn. Mr. Yaxley and Madam Longbottom had finally understood the basics of genetics, so they wanted to know what mutation had to do with the Wizarding World.

“Let’s say magic in humans is some kind of mutation. So, pairing mutated specimen with mutated specimen would strengthen the mutation. Are we all on the same page about that?”, I asked and was confronted with two different nods: an enthusiastic one by Yaxley and a sullen one by Madam Longbottom.

“So, for magic to get stronger, we need to pair magic users.”
Yaxley’s smile turned triumphant.

“Unfortunately, the genetic pool in wizarding Britain is rather small”, I continued, “so, if the wizarding families proceed to only marry each other, there is no influx of new blood. You still with me?”
The two nodded again, Yaxley with a furrowed brow and Madam Longbottom with intrigue in her eyes.

“If no new blood is introduced into established bloodlines, this also means that bad or faulty genetic code can’t be replaced or overwritten by healthy code. It rather becomes more… pronounced. This can affect physical or mental health, looks, predisposition to certain hereditary diseases, a weak immune system or infertility, could even raise the probability of loss of the one mutation the bloodlines wanted to preserve.”
“Squibs…”, Madam Longbottom whispered, clearly shocked, before quickly clarifying for my sake: “That’s people born without magic.”
Not that the clarification was needed, but hey.
So, I just nodded, but Yaxley looked at me with horror. “Are you trying to tell me that we could be destroying ourselves by trying to keep the bloodlines pure?!”

I just nodded again.

There was a brief period of silence, while my two teachers exchanged looks.

“This would explain so much”, Madam Longbottom finally said, wringing her hands. “The steady increase of squibs in the last two centuries, the amount of people with mental instabilities, the problems many pureblood families face to conceive… And just look at the Bullstrodes!”
“And the Blacks…”, continued Yaxley, an equally shocked look on his face.

“Merlin, what have we done?!”

“Well, it’s not a problem that can’t be solved”, I smiled lightly. “According to “Origins of the Familial” by Decorius Marlond, Familial Magic originates from breeding experiments with or marriages to humanoid Magical Creatures, so that would work. Muggleborns would be another possibility. They have the same mutation in their blood, without the cumulation of faulty genetic strands. Descendants from squibs exiled into the muggle world could work as well, as long as the connection isn’t too far in the past. I am pretty sure that some of the so-called muggleborns are actually the descendants of two recessive squib-lines and therefore squib-born. What I wouldn’t recommend, though, is marriage to full muggles. This could very well dull the magical strength of any resulting offspring.”

I looked from one to the other.
“Of course, these conclusions only apply if my assumption on magic working like a mutation and being rooted in DNA is correct.”

“Albus’ mother was a muggleborn”, Madam Longbottom whispered, even more horrified now.
“As was Harry Potter’s…”, Yaxley continued, shock still evident in his face.
“Two of the three strongest wizards of our generation are halfbloods!”

“Actually”, I interjected, “this makes them purebloods of the first generation, if one was being pedantic.”

Okay, so now I was just being mean for the fun of it.

The rest of the lesson I could just lie back and see the seeds I had sown take root.

Chapter Text

Finally, after a whole week of absence, I saw Lucius again for my lessons in Magical Core. He didn’t come alone, though. Behind him a middle-aged woman stepped into the classroom.
“Miss Granger”, Lucius nodded in greeting, no explanation to his absence whatsoever.
Not that I had expected one.
“Mister Malfoy”, I nodded back.
He then motioned to the woman. “This is Ophelia Shafiq. She will be your new teacher for Magical Core. Mrs. Shafiq, this is Hermione Granger, my ward. I will leave you two to get acquainted. Severus will join you in about thirty minutes, he has a prior commitment.”

I eyed my new teacher with suspicion.
She was around Lucius’ age, somewhere in her forties, maybe, though her once black hair had turned nearly completely grey already, just like her equally steely grey eyes that seemed to glow in her stern, pale face. Her features were very sharp; chin, cheekbones and nose were like bold slashes on canvas, just like her stick-thin angular body, which was accentuated by the severe cut of her dark, charcoal grey robes.
She, in turn, examined me, slowly, not showing anything on her face.
It was her who broke the silence: “Good afternoon, Miss Granger. I have to admit to feeling quite a bit curious after having heard so much about you.”

She had heard about me? Wonderful, people had started talking.
I preferred to stay on the side-lines of everything major, standing in second or third row, which enabled me to act much more freely than if people were looking at every move I made.
Obviously, that time had passed.

“You have me at a distinct disadvantage then, Madam, as I have only seen the Shafiq name mentioned in the Pureblood Directory, but lack any further knowledge about you or your family. May I inquire about your place of work and area of expertise?”, I asked, especially stilted, as she had yet to let me see behind her impenetrable mask to assess her.

Her eyes never left my face for even a second, so I made it a point to school my features into pleasant inquisitiveness.
We stared at each other for several heartbeats, before a smile, too thin to be polite, graced her lips. It didn’t reach her eyes, though.
“Of course you may, Miss Granger. I regret having to tell you, though, that I am not of liberty to say.”

Oh. Joy.

Again we kept sizing each other up, hiding even the slightest twitch of a muscle, so as not to give anything away.
I had no idea what her problem was, actually preferring open conversation to this dancing around every single point, like the traditional purebloods seemed to fancy.
Maybe they just didn’t have enough to do to occupy their time, so they needed to drag everything out before falling back into boredom.

Well, apart from Lucius, obviously. He was always busy.

The door opening was what broke our mutual assessment and informed me that we had been sizing each other up for about twenty minutes now.

Jeesh.

Snape entered in the dramatic fashion uniquely his.

Hot damn, how did he make his robes billow like that?!

His eyes met mine first, then Mrs. Shafiq’s, and immediately one eyebrow crawled up.
“Really? She is eight years old, Shafiq.”
The woman grinned thinly, again. I thought I could read contempt in her eyes, but she was too good at hiding her feelings for me to be completely sure.

“Snape. What a… pleasure.”
Okay, now I was sure of it. She didn’t like him. At all.
Jeesh.

Okay, time for some damage control.
“Good afternoon, Sir. Since I have not been properly informed, would you mind updating me on the current status of my Magical Core lessons? Are you planning on joining in on our lessons from now on?”
The potions master sneered. His eyes had grown cold and his grin seemed cruel, feral nearly, if only for a second.
I blinked in surprise.
“Your guardian thought it prudent for me to play nursemaid, as he suspected you wouldn’t feel comfortable letting a strange person loose in your mind after what happened last week. Mrs. Shafiq here is going to be your main teacher, but I will be the only one to enter your mind and core. No one else will be allowed access.”

Oh. The look had been meant for Mrs. Shafiq, then.
What a pit-… uhm… thank the heavens.
It wasn’t like I… uhm… well.

I forcefully ripped my thoughts out of the gutter and back to the things in front of my eyes, trying to hide the blush that had settled on my cheeks. Thankfully, the two were occupied with sizing each other up.

Somehow I got the sneaking suspicion that this was going to be the most intense class of the week.

Mrs. Shafiq started the actual lesson by holding a lecture on Magical Cores. It was nothing I hadn’t heard or read before, but I still made it a point to be an attentive student, looking for little snippets that I didn’t know already.
Even though I hadn’t yet made up my mind about her, she was a brilliant speaker, commanding my attention easily.

“I have been informed you were able to find the glow already?”, she asked, making it obvious she didn’t believe this.
I sighed inwardly, didn’t let it show on my face, though.
“Yes, Madam. It usually takes five to ten minutes for me to find it, depending on my surroundings.”
She wrinkled her nose, but motioned for me to lie down. “Get to it, then.”
It didn’t take long this time to find my glowing core, since the other two had remained blissfully quiet.
“Got it.”

“Go on, Snape, tell me, what it looks like.”
I could feel Snape’s sneer even with my eyes closed and in a meditative state, and was therefore surprised when I could sense him sitting down beside me again. I had expected him to argue.
“Open your eyes without losing your glow”, he commanded, and I did as I was told, having an easier time now than the week before.
Slowly I could feel the warm fingers again, as well as the slight tickle at the back of my eyeballs.
“I will now delve into your magical being. Keep breathing!”
I did, and even pulled the glow closer to the surface unbidden, like he had told me to the last time we had been in this situation.

“So?”, Mrs. Shafiq asked after a few seconds. “Describe her core already!”

Even though I couldn’t see anything past my glow, I knew that Snape was really grappling with his control. I was sure he wanted to hex the witch with… something nasty.
“Her core is situated in her gut, the net is in very good condition”, he snarled.
“And coils? Are there any coils, Snape?!”
She sounded… eager. Weirdly eager.
I didn’t know why, but I knew I didn’t want her to know about my new coil. It took quite a bit out of me to move my hand, but I managed to move it the few centimetres it took to touch Snape’s knee.

I was touching Snape’s knee.
His KNEE!!!

Trying my hardest du repress my squealing inner fangirl, I discreetly tapped his leg three times, hoping he would get my meaning.

“There are two. One in her left knee”, Snape snarled, as if trying to suppress some kind of strange emotion, “and one in her head as well.”
Huh. He had just omitted not only the new coil in my right wrist, but also its left counterpart as well as the one in my right knee, the one in my throat, both in my elbows and the ones in my shoulders. And the one in my heart, of course, if that even was one, since it wasn’t connected to the net.

Weird.

I didn’t correct him, though. Snape would know what he was doing.

“She has two coils already?!”, Mrs. Shafiq’s voice sounded even more eager than before. Nearly… greedy.
What the hell?!

I couldn’t wait for the lesson to be over, and for my new teacher to leave. When Snape started to go about leaving as well, I held him back: “Sir, Mr. Malfoy mentioned wanting to talk to you about something before you leave. He’s probably in his study right now.”
I then turned to Mrs. Shafiq: “Thank you for the lesson, Madam. I will see you next week, then?”
The stern woman nodded regally and left, while Snape just stood there, in all his dark glory.

“You lied to her, Sir.”
It was nothing but a statement.
“Yes.”
Snape’s voice was cold, hard, snarling and oh-so-sexy, while not looking at me. He stared straight at the door.

“I do not understand the significance of the coils, but… thank you for that.”

Now Snape turned around and graced me with a look from those bottomless black eyes of his. I thought I could read slight confusion in them, but it could just as well be him suppressing a giggle. Or indigestion.
These damn Slytherins were extremely hard to read when they wanted to be.

Draco excluded, of course, he was an open book; it was slightly embarrassing sometimes.

“Follow me”, he then commanded and started walking. I, of course, hastened after him.
He wasn’t Fenrir, but I still had to take three steps when he took one, but again, I didn’t complain.
I mean, I was here, in the world of Harry Potter, being taught everything I could ever dream of, walking with my absolute favourite character by far.

So… no complaining.

We actually found Lucius in the library, not his study, but he looked up like he had expected us.
Huh. Maybe I WAS a seer.
Or I just simply had tremendous luck.
Probably Snape had just wanted to make it seem like he left to my newest teacher, and had planned to talk with Lucius all along.

Oh well.

“Sit down”, the Malfoy patriarch commanded and we complied. Snape sat on the small couch and I took my seat on a fauteuil by the fireplace.
It was a bit chilly, after all.

“It’s confirmed.”

I… was a bit confused, I had to admit.
What exactly had Snape confirmed?

“A pity.”

Uhm… hello…? I was here as well…? And I didn’t do old-man-speech!

The two were silent for a few minutes, while I had to force myself to remain still and not try to shake some answers out of them that actually made sense.

A study in patience, that was.

The silence continued and my insides were still clenched in anticipation.
I was going to get muscle pain in my midsection in the morning, I just knew it.

I had always thought myself to be a very patient person. Well, except if people weren’t on time. I hated that.
But that was beside the point.

ARGH!
I wanted to know what the hell was going on here!!!

Okay, enough was enough.

“I would appreciate an explanation, if you would be so kind, dear sirs.”

I had aimed for a slightly bored tone, but I had failed spectacularly. Instead, it had sounded slightly whiney.
Urgs.

Lucius just looked at me, one corner of his lips twitching slightly.
“I was wondering when you would crack.”

Seriously???

He then folded his arms and lay back, sighing.
“I advise you to be wary of Mrs. Shafiq. The ministry has been adamant about having one of their own invested in your education. It seems you were right, they are actively working against me. You are a high profile case they can’t afford to lose access to.”
My brow furrowed and I could feel my resentment against the ministry strengthen, as if it was a palpable thing.

“Any advice on how I should act?”
Lucius looked at me inquiringly. “You have nine coils in your body. This is not just improbable, it is nearly impossible.”
“Ten”, Snape interrupted. “She gained a new one this week.”

Lucius was quiet for a few seconds. If I hadn’t known better, I would have said he looked stunned. But it was Lucius Malfoy we were talking about.
Lucius Malfoy NEVER looked stunned.

“Maybe you could start by explaining the meaning behind these coils to me? Neither Mrs. Shafiq nor Mr. Selwyn have explained, and it also isn’t mentioned in Introduction to Magical Cores either.”
The two shared a look, after which Lucius sighed deeply.
He SIGHED.
A sighing Lucius Malfoy.

Today was a weird day indeed.

“You already know that the Core is where magic originates and where magic is stored”, began the blonde, to which I nodded. “A Core is like a bucket filled with water. You use magic, you empty the bucket. Magic regenerates, of course, so the bucket fills itself at a slow, steady trickle as soon as something has been taken out of it.”
He looked at me to see if I had understood what he tried to tell me.
“So, magic isn’t an infinite resource”, I summed it up, “you can actually use everything up, burn out, if one wants to call it that, and you then will have to wait for quite a while for your Core to fill itself again.”

Lucius nodded, while Snape just sat there and… stared.

“Does that mean that every person has a different magical level? Depending on the size of their Core?”

“More or less. It’s a bit more complicated than that. The real Core is the same for everyone. The visible Core varies, though, in relation to a person’s size, of course. This has nothing to do with the actual amount of magic in it, though.”

Ah, like the Tardis in the shrinking episode.
“So, the Core is like a room, the Glow is like a window into it. The room is always the same size for everyone, just the size of the window varies.”
Lucius blinked. Snape’s eyebrows rose a fraction.
Okay, yes, maybe normal eight-year-olds didn’t get that. I was a Doctor Who fan, though, and quite a bit older to boot.
“Yes. This is actually quite a good analogy. Anyway, the magic inside the room isn’t the same for everyone. The amount is, but the quality and strength varies, as does the time it takes for the room to fill again after being emptied.”
I nodded. “So, strong witches and wizards have more potent magic than weaker ones and have their Core refilled faster. But… that is nothing but brute strength, isn’t it? It doesn’t really say anything about their effectiveness. Or… does it?”

Snape’s eyebrows seemed to have made their home quite a bit higher up than usual.

“This is true. Some wizards learn to compensate for the weakness of their magic by training their technique and using the magic they have sparingly, but most effectively.”

Okay, I was following so far.

“And the coils?”

Now it was Snape who answered: “The net growing from your Core has two functions: First, it gathers the magic your body produces and guides it into your Core. Second, it sends the magic from your core into your body, so you’re able to use it.”
“Like veins do with blood”, I immediately drew the comparison. The net obviously were the veins and the Core worked a little bit like a heart.
“Exactly. Wizards can expand their cores, though, by enticing the net to build coils, kind of like small Cores, at strategic points in your body, kind of like an artificial enlargement of your Core, so your body can hold more magic than it should. It’s like… training your muscles to get stronger or training your endurance to last longer.”

“So, the coils are more or less rechargeable extra batteries for one’s magic.”
They could have just said it like that, they wouldn’t have needed the long-winded explanation.
A look into their faces showed me that they had no idea what I was talking about, though.

Purebloods.
…
And halfbloods.
Whatever.

“Never mind. So, I have a few coils in my net, which means that I can hold more magic than I should be able to. Yes? And… obviously I have more of them than I should have. So… what exactly does this mean? How does one go about enticing one’s net to form coils? Why don’t more people work on this? How many coils would be normal? How many do YOU have?”
The two men stared at me with an exasperated expression. Yes, okay, maybe Fenrir was right. Maybe I really could be annoying with my barrel of questions when I wasn’t concentrating on keeping my image intact.
I didn’t care at the moment, though, I just wanted to know!

Finally, Lucius took pity on me.
“It takes up a tremendous amount of time to entice the net to build coils. This time is spent meditating and feeling and coaxing one’s magic to move, something not many people are comfortable with. Or able to do. It seems like you did just that for quite a while, without knowing what you actually did. It also seems like you are a natural at handling your Core, which makes it unfortunate that Mrs. Shafiq is now your teacher. We will have to do something about this.”
He shared another look with Snape.
“Witches and wizards your age usually don’t have coils at all”, he then continued. “Four to five are the norm for purebloods when they leave school. If they practice enough, they can come up to seven or eight. There have been some cases with… a greater amount, but they are rare. I have never heard of a case where someone had your amount of coils before school, though.”

Jeesh.
Wonderful.
There went my plan of flying under the radar.

“But no one can see my coils, if I don’t let anyone examine my Core, right?”, I asked, a little queasy. Lucius pressed his lips together. “This is true, but there are mandatory examinations after every summer break for anyone growing up in a magical household, to check the students’ magical health and the state their magic is in. Some pureblood families try to force the coils and magical potency. This, obviously, doesn’t work, and only injures the net. It takes time and quite a few potions to heal these violations. People could become magically crippled, if these injuries are not treated accordingly.”

I swallowed nervously.
“Who does these examinations?”, I asked. If it was the ministry, my ‘till now rather peaceful life in the magical world was toast.

“This falls within the responsibility of the Head of House”, Snape drawled and sent me a little smirk.

Wonderful.

Another one trying to push me in the direction of the serpent.

VERY subtle, guys, VERY subtle…

Chapter Text

I was done with my lessons at 3 pm on Tuesday, due to the fact that Lucius hadn’t found another teacher for the Art of Seeking yet, the first Magical Basic I was to learn. He had planned to use Selwyn, but that had… well… not worked out all that well.

And he didn’t want to have Ophelia Shafiq in the manor more than he strictly had to.

The rest of the week wasn’t particularly exciting, until Friday.

Fenrir was back.

He just stood there, a little awkwardly, not exactly knowing how to act, obviously. Not that I fared any better, mind you.
He had cuddled with me, in his BED, had hugged me and had wanted me to take a shower with him.

Not that I would have been against that, exactly, had I been in my old body. I would have loved to see what the werewolf sported under his shirt and ripped muggle jeans. But I was still eight years old and that stuff would have to wait.
…
About ten years.

Oh shit.

A fucking DECADE???
I hadn’t signed up for that shit!!!

I nearly started hyperventilating at my thoughts, but managed to get myself under control quickly enough so Fenrir didn’t notice.

Not that hard, with him avoiding having to look in my direction.

Okay, I really needed to do something about this weird tension.

“Nice to see you again, Fenrir”, I said and hugged his upper legs.

He immediately turned to stone.
…
Metaphorically, of course.

Oops… That wasn’t exactly what I had intended.

“Uhm… Fenrir…?”, I asked, poking the newest statue gracing the Malfoy lands. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to show you that I don’t care about your cuddly side. I’m available for hugs whenever you need them.”

He growled, seeming not very happy with me.
“Yes, yes, I know, a big, bad werewolf like you doesn’t need hugs and doesn’t cuddle, but just in case, I’m available. Yes?”

“I don’t cuddle weak, prissy pureblood bitches”, he grumbled and pushed me away, ignoring the grin I didn’t bother hiding.

He was so cute when he tried being that gruff badass!

My weird self-outing had one good outcome at least: Fenrir was talking to me again and accompanied me on my evening run as well. I really had come to like the big mountain of a werewolf.
On Saturday morning Draco wheedled an hour of extra tutoring out of me – he obviously didn’t want to look bad in front of his peers.

Since he kept them calm, I had no problem with this.
And who would have thought that the blond git would at one point actually ASK me for a lesson on muggle subjects?!

I definitely hadn’t.

In the afternoon I again worked with him, Pansy, Blaise and Daphne, who now all at least understood what I was talking about, when I tried to explain something to them.

Theo was noticeably absent.

After the lessons I went to Narcissa to inquire about the boy.
According to her, he was the only one who had asked to take the lessons as well, when he had heard of them. The others had been forced to by their parents.

So why was he not here now?

I pondered the question a bit, but then decided it wasn’t my problem. They had to learn on their own.

He also didn’t appear the next time, or the time after that.

I finally had gotten a teacher for the Art of Seeking: Fedora Fawley, a tiny, wiry witch with the personality of a pixie.
At least in my opinion.
Her auburn hair stood up in wild ringlets all around her face; it was far worse than my mop had ever been. Her eyes were green and sparkled with mischief, and the sheer amount of freckles made her skin seem far darker than it actually was.
She didn’t seem to be able to stand still. The only time she wasn’t moving, was when she was actively Seeking. Otherwise she was moving about, gesticulating wildly, making weird faces, twittering my ears off…
She literally couldn’t stand still!

How she had managed to sit still long enough to master the Art of Seeking, I had no idea.

Still, she had managed, and was now more or less guiding me through sensing ambience magic.

I… was used to sailing through my classes. Most consisted of learning and thinking and debating certain points of view, researching and comparing and stuff like that. If not, it was meditating. And working on feeling the Core. Or practicing stances, speech, walking, sitting, eating…
You get the idea.
With Seeking it was different. You couldn’t force it, you couldn’t study it, you couldn’t really practice it.
You had to FEEL it.
And you couldn’t feel in yourself. I had quite easily learned to feel the magic pulsating inside of me without trying to see the glow, so I knew I was capable of the task. The problem now was getting my senses to point outwards instead of inwards, something I had never done before, as I had usually focused inwards to further myself.
Fedora only laughed, too chipper by far, and told me to be patient.

I learned rather quickly that studying and practicing without it getting any results wasn’t the best way to get me to exhibit patience.

I nearly lost it twice on the first day.

Then, two days before the next full moon (yes, I now actually kept track of it, planning my evening runs around it and DEFINITELY staying inside that night), Fenrir suddenly appeared, immediately after Madam Bones had left the premises, grabbed me, threw me over his shoulder and stomped off.

“Uhm… Fenrir…? Where are we going?”

The werewolf’s hands only tightened around my legs.

“Uhm… Minnie…?!”
The house elf appeared with a PLOPP and immediately had to start running to keep up with my mount. “Could you inform the… the Malfoys that I will probably not be… available for dinner?”
I had to pause sometimes to get air into my lungs, whenever Fenrir’s shoulder burrowed into my gut, but managed to get my message out.
“Is little Miss… should Minnie… is little Miss all right?”
The house elf ran behind us, wringing her hands, slightly panicked by the state she had found me in, but I just waved her concerns aside. “Don’t worry. He won’t… hurt me. Just… tell them where I am.”

Slowly but surely I was getting winded.

The house elf plopped away again, while Fenrir carried me into his hut, where he threw me onto the bed and curled himself around me, again using me as a human plush toy.
“You know, you could just simply ask me if I could come to your hut after class around the full moon”, I commented dryly, but he only grumbled unhappily and put his hand over half of my face again to shut me up.

Okay then.

Sighing I wriggled around until I was cuddled against the strong, hard, muscular chest. I really had to restrain myself not to start stroking these bulging muscles. So, I could only cuddle in and enjoy being held by a big, strong guy, and could feel feminine for once.
Well… okay, maybe not exactly feminine. Rather… small.
Yeah, that’s what described my feelings perfectly. He made me feel small.
It was a… weirdly nice feeling while being hugged. I had missed that. It confused the hell out of me; maybe I really did have some kind of father complex.
My mother had once actually laughed at me when I had described the characteristics a guy had to have for me to be able to live with him, and had told me that my father was already taken.

Okay, my thoughts were DEFINITELY taking a VERY weird turn right now.

It didn’t take long for Fenrir to fall asleep, but I felt completely awake. Since I didn’t have a book or anyone to talk to, I again tried meditating, which was complicated a bit by the arms tightening around me in irregular intervals. They weren’t exactly helping my concentration.

After about an hour Narcissa entered the room, a nervous looking Minnie beside her.
“Hermione!”, she called out, eyes open with shock. I just shrugged, though, and sent her a crooked smile, which elicited a sigh from the matriarch.
“Well… it seems you have become something of his substitute pack.”

Yeah. I had kind of noticed.

With allowing him to hug me I hadn’t meant kidnapping me for a night of cuddling.

“If you feel… threatened in any way, I am sure there are other teachers for Magical Flora and Fauna we could employ. It doesn’t have to be him…”

Narcissa looked worried. I didn’t really know about whom, but she did. I already knew she liked Fenrir and felt protective of him. She also felt protective of me, though, and I also fancied the thought she kind of liked me as well, as more than just her ward.
…
Maybe.

“You don’t need to worry, Narcissa. I kind of like the big wolfy. I didn’t expect to land in his bed, but if it makes him feel better, I don’t mind. I just need someone to extricate me for my lessons tomorrow. And maybe my books and some food…?”
The last of my speech was aimed at Minnie, who nodded enthusiastically and disappeared with another of those house-elf-plops.
Narcissa’s left eyebrow had wandered upwards, but she didn’t comment, just nodded and… actually stroked my hair once.

Narcissa Malfoy. Had. Just. Stroked. My. Hair.

Then, something even more amazing and unbelievable happened:
Her pureblood mask, the one she never let go of, disappeared and she looked at me with a fond smile. “You are a good kid, Hermione. I am glad we took you in.”

It was the first night since coming to this world that I didn’t get a wink of sleep.

It was also the first time that I managed to send my inner feelers outside of my body.

Chapter Text

That was to be my life from now on.
Classes, learning, teaching and… cuddling with a werewolf three nights a month.
Lucius hadn’t emptied a room for me, he had emptied a bloody hall. He also was nice enough to imbue the floor and walls with cushioning charms and brought me everything one would need for a martial arts studio.

In a wizarding fashion.

The first time I had tried it out, I had landed myself in St. Mungo’s.

How the hell was I to know that those dummies were auror-grade and protected by a freaking force field?!

The next time I was more careful. And Lucius vanished the magical shields.

Yaxley had given up on teaching me Latin completely after about three months. Instead, we now poured over ancient texts. The translations would be sold, and the profits would fill my vault. Not that the contents were THAT interesting, but a few galleons more per month couldn’t hurt.
When we got bored, he whipped out books on other obscure languages used in ancient times or started teaching me the basics of the importance of words and languages used in spell crafting.

I had also (FINALLY!) managed to have the Art of Seeking down pat. More or less. At least I had managed it and could clearly identify strong magical signatures 100% of the time and did quite well with finding weaker pools of magic while in trance.

I was really glad to see the springy, over-the-top happy Fedora Fawley leave for the last time.

My next Magical Basic was Art of Flowing with Doretha Zabini and Selma Woderick, where one took ambience magic or even another person’s magic and guided it somewhere or into someone.
Apparently, this was often used in healing, when a person was severely depleted of magic, for example, and as well in the creation of magical artefacts. The art was also useful to amplify the Runic and the Numeric Art, therefore strengthening the Ritualistic Art.

It was all very confusing, really. Different Arts somehow seemed to be exactly the same at first glance, but completely different when immerged in it. Some Arts couldn’t be learned without the mastery of another, and some just seemed too obscure as to be of any help in my further education whatsoever.

Still, I learned them.

After the Art of Flowing came the Art of Forming with Doretha Zabini, where I weaved magical nets and formed pools of pure magic. Then came the Art of Magical Intent with Selma Woderick, where I made things happen without the aid of spells or a wand, like… controlled accidental magic, actually.

That again was followed by Runic Art with Bathsheda Babbling and Numeric Art with Septima Vector, followed by Ritualistic Art with Theorfin Fangard.

One after the other my usual subjects also got essentially replaced.

Magical Theory had morphed into a class on muggle science that many of my other teachers had started to attend.

Wizarding Politics became lessons on discussion, elocution and persuasion.

Yaxley and Flamel had started working together and instead of Old English and Latin they now taught me whatever ancient language had grabbed their fancy that week, learning about as much from our study-sessions as I did.
I actually quietly accused them of using our lessons to indulge in their hobbies, since they couldn’t do so at home with wives who definitely wore the pants in their marriages.

Madam Bones had started bringing ongoing cases into our lessons for us to discuss in deference to law and ethics. We also had frequent conversations about the way the wizarding world prosecuted and punished their criminals, comparing them to the muggle ways.

Miss Zabini had given up on teaching me Wizarding Literature, since the literary classics of the wizarding world were rather limited in number, and had instead again partnered with Selma Woderick to teach me about general wizarding knowledge.

Fenrir had started lengthening our lessons, so we sometimes slept outside and he taught me how to use the plants of the forest or certain forest creatures to find warmth and water, build shelter and treat basic wounds.

The only lessons that had stayed the same were my morning classes. Nicholas Flamel wouldn’t run out of historic occurrences for the next few years I’d wager, and Narcissa seemed to think that even blinking had to be regulated.

My Muggle Studies students had come quite a long way as well. They now had at least a basic understanding of maths and quite a good grasp on English. More or less.
The only thing I just couldn’t get out of my head was Theodore Nott. He had never appeared again, though I had felt that he had wanted to learn. And I had a certain weakness for people who wanted to learn.

Spring blossomed and with it Ostara came closer. I had come to like the traditional wizarding holidays, so I was looking forward to it. After celebrating Samhain, Yule and Imbolc, this was going to be my fourth celebration of Oulde Magick.

The Oulde traditions were very interesting. Meditating on Samhain and feeling the magical strands that tied the otherworld to ours; congregating around the burning Yule-Log for all hours of darkness and dancing and chanting on Yule and imbibing the trance-inducing potion that enabled wizard kind to hear the Jolareidi, the Wilde Rites; the gathering of families to funnel magic into one tiny seed to make it grow on Imbolc…

I liked the Oulde Rites. They made me feel younger, stronger, fresher… cleaner somehow. Not just in body, but in mind and magic as well.

On the morning of Ostara, a few minutes before sunrise, we, dressed in nothing but pale linen sacks, laid out the offerings we had imbued with our magic. Lucius and Draco had brought bushels of peppermint and sweet balm, Narcissa had expertly crafted a bouquet of cowslip and lavender and I had decided on branches of willow, which I had interwoven to a wreath and decorated with daisies.
Those we put on a mossy rock before stepping back. Only Lucius as the head of ceremonies stayed rooted, facing the rock, quiet for a few minutes while we watched the sun rise above the horizon.

“The darkness is gone, winter has died. Ostara den haid.”
“Ostara den haid”, we chorused after the Malfoy patriarch, who held his hand over the bushel of peppermint. Fire erupted and burned the herb to ashes. The sharp peppery smell stung my nostrils.

“Forgotten the hardships, the hunger, the cold. Ostara den haid.”
“Ostara den haid”, we chorused again. The bouquet of cowslip and lavender was the next to fall victim to the magical flames.

“We celebrate renewal, rebirth eternal. Ostara den haid.”
“Ostara den haid.”
The sweet balm turned to ashes.

“To feed us, to clothe us, to warm our souls. Ostara den haid.”
“Ostara den haid.”
My willow wreath was the last thing to burn.

Lucius then poured a bit of the water waiting in the nearby chalice into the ashes and mixed them to a dark grey, nearly black paste, before running his right index finger through the mixture and painting crude runes onto his forehead. He then approached Narcissa, and after her Draco. I was the last in line, but there was still more than enough ash-paste for me. Lucius stared into my eyes while drawing, though I had the feeling that he didn’t see them but something else entirely.

When he was done, he turned back to the mossy rock.
“Ostara den haid.”
And we echoed: “Ostara den haid.”

And then the burning started.

Lucius had told me what to expect, but I hadn’t imagined the pain to be this severe. It started small, like an itch, but grew in intensity quickly. My hands went to my face automatically, desperate to wipe away the offensive substance, but Lucius caught my hands.

“Bear it.”

Right.
I immediately clasped my hands together so as not to be tempted to touch the source of the pain.
We had to suffer through the burning until we had eaten the Ostarian bread and had drunk the Ostarian water. And it couldn’t be rushed; the calmer the ceremony, the stronger the flow of magic.

The Malfoy patriarch laid out the bread, a lumpy thing made of rye flour, water and the ashes that had been collected at the Yule log burning three months ago, and divided it into four equal parts.

“The bread of Ostara”, he stated and each of us ate as calmly as possible while our foreheads seemed on fire.

Seriously, the crazed laughter I had heard at the Wilde Rites was NOTHING against this.
Still, I shouldered on.

Yes, I wouldn’t be the one to give in, especially when Draco did not do so before me.

Not a chance.

Next came the silver chalice.

“The water of spring”, Lucius intoned and drank deeply before handing the chalice to Narcissa. After she had drunk, it went to Draco and then to me. It was the perfect mouthful, so I had no problem swallowing.

The blonde then led us to the lake, where the three Malfoys stepped into the water without stopping or even slowing.

Oh well.

I knew, if I wanted to get rid of the pain, I would have to get in as well. The only problem was, you had to stay submerged under water until the runes had washed off completely. By water currents alone. No helping with hands or anything else. And… I could kinda dive and snorkel, but I was under no illusion about my ability to hold my breath that long.
Narcissa had told me not to worry, that the magic would protect us and help us through.

Yeah, right.

But I really, REALLY wanted to get rid of the burning pain.
Hesitatingly, I stepped into the water.

It was freezing.

Of course it was freezing! It was bloody March!

But seriously, what Draco could do… I was more than twenty years his senior, I would definitely not lose to the git.

With grinding molars I stepped in farther and farther, completely clothed.

It was weird.
The lake didn’t feel like water.
Where usually a human would float, I was able to keep walking on the ground, until I could see the sun only as a pale round above the lake’s surface far above me.
The Malfoys had disappeared. The pain was gone.

Completely flummoxed I looked around. It wasn’t dark, everything seemed to glitter slightly, a shimmering greenish tint to the world around me. And I… didn’t even get the urge to breathe. And I was warm.
A strange sense of calmness sank into me, soothing my nerves, my fears… Contentedness, that was the right word to describe my momentary state. Simple contentedness.

I could feel my lips forming a smile as I just floated there, feeling weightless. My magic flowed out of every cell of my body, circulating through the water and getting cleansed before re-entering and refilling my Core.

Renewal and rebirth. Yes, those were the perfect words to describe what was happening.

I had no idea how long I had stayed under, when I felt the compulsion to go back. Step after step I returned to the world of normalcy, but the calmness that had entered my soul remained.

Chapter Text

My guardians were already waiting for me. Well, I HAD taken quite a while to get into the icy water.

And yes, I was a bit of a sissy there, an heirloom of my father’s, probably.

Lucius used a drying spell on me and Narcissa… winced.
Right.
Drying spells weren’t the best treatment for hair like mine. I was pretty sure I looked like a scarecrow at this very moment.

“We should get ready for the evening.”

Yes, THE EVENING.
I had tried to push this fact out of my head until now.
Thanks, Narcissa.

Today was the first societal gathering the Malfoys hosted since I had come to live with them. More or less my official introduction into polite wizarding society.
It would be different from the one time in the ministry, being, as it was, hosted to honour Ostara. I was… worried, quite frankly. I had spent months getting up to par on pureblood etiquette, but this would be my trial.

I would be scrutinized like a bug under a microscope.

Joy.

Suppressing a grimace I waddled into my private bathroom, took a shower and actually used a tiny little bit of that special hair oil Doctor Febrae had given me. Just enough so my hair didn’t look as messy as usual, but not enough to smooth it down completely.

I had grown attached to my new curls.

Minnie helped me put it up in an elegant chignon and that was followed by the ensemble Narcissa had chosen for me: a black dress with dark green, nearly black embroidery with some tarnished silver threads running through it.

I was slowly starting to sense a theme there.

Unfortunately, as we were a little bit pressed for time, I already had to leave, meeting up with Draco and making ourselves at home in the ballroom, as the host’s family.

Playing host was extremely exhausting. We had to greet everyone in accordance to their station and their relationship with us and make nice with the people we absolutely hated, while not being able to stay and chat with the people we actually liked.
All my teachers had come and I had really wanted to talk to them, but society dictated otherwise.
All my students and their families had come as well, playing the perfect little purebloods that they… would be at one point in their lives.

I should really be greeting them.

“Miss Granger, what a pleasure to meet you again!”
I blinked, completely dumbfounded, at the man who had appeared in front of me.
I had expected quite a lot of people, but not this one, especially not with a smile.
“I love what you have done with your hair!”, Doctor Febrae gushed and flittered around me. “The dress is exquisite as well! A design by Mademoiselle Fauncourt, I presume?”

Oh gosh. Thankfully, Narcissa had drilled me in this. So, delightful smile, acknowledging nod and: “But why, yes! Her delicate hand in embroidery is hard to miss, is it not? And did you notice the cut leaning on designs from the early Arcôte-period? I absolutely adore the combination!”

Okay, I seriously felt like puking right now.
His false cheer felt abrasive against my poor nerves, which were rather strained already.

“Ah, Miss Granger… I have been looking for you!”
I nearly threw myself at Nicholas Flamel, but managed to maintain my image as a well-bred pureblood-ward. “Ah, Mister Flamel, I am so glad you could make it!”
The man – bless his heart – immediately understood the situation. “A colleague of mine just so happens to be in attendance, but his time for leisure is limited. I would like for you to meet him, as he is a master in his subject and you would greatly benefit from the acquaintance.”

As politely as possible I extricated myself from the beautician and took my teacher’s proffered arm.

“Thank you for saving me”, I commented dryly but Flamel only chuckled. “I was not lying, I actually do wish for you to meet someone.” With that he stopped in front of a guy who was… unremarkable in every sense of the word. He looked to be about sixty years old, was of average height but slightly hunched over, his grey-blond hair had started to thin and his pale eyes were hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses.

“This is Master Arren, one of the leading experts in Wizarding History.”

And with that my curiosity was peaked.
I immediately manoeuvred the poor guy into a mostly hidden alcove, while Flamel only chuckled and left with one last: “I’ll cover your absence.”

The next hour was spent debating historical events. Master Arren suddenly seemed to come alive, his eyes sparkling while talking about history, wars, leaders and rebellions, about the development of modern magic and the great wizards and witches of the past.

I loved this guy.

At first he shot questions at me, probably to see where I stood knowledge-wise, but soon we discussed backgrounds, motivations and theoretical outcomes, influences on today’s society and parallels to muggle history.

I wanted to keep this guy.
Seriously, I actually wondered if Lucius would let me adopt him. That shouldn’t be too hard, now, should it?

“Miss Granger…”

…

Busted.

My eyes sheepishly went to the stern face of my guardian and I ducked my head guiltily.
Right.
I was here to prove my education in Wizarding Etiquette, not to discuss (extremely fascinating) historical occurrences with an (insanely knowledgeable) master historian.

Bugger.

I only nodded with a crooked smile, before I made my apologies and left to see to our guests.

I hated small talk.
Like… REALLY hated it.
By now the polite verbiage expected from a witch of my new station flowed effortlessly into my conversations, but that didn’t mean I liked it.
Not in the least.

I was talking to an old matron who was gushing about my manners, which, according to her, she had not seen in young magical folk since her youth, when my eyes landed on a certain minister of magic.

Urgs.

I tried. I mean, I really, REALLY tried not to let our paths cross, but since he seemed to be determined to have us ‘accidentally’ meet, I couldn’t hide from him forever.

“Miss Granger, what a pleasant surprise to meet you here!”
Surprise? Really? To see me at my official introduction to polite wizarding society?
And pleasant? What drugs had he taken to think this was the word I would use to describe our encounter?

“Minister”, I acknowledged his presence with a nod that clearly told everyone well versed in traditional pureblood-greetings that I held him in high contempt.

He either didn’t get the hint or just simply ignored it.

I hadn’t met him since the last ministry function (thankfully), but he still gave me the creeps.

“I haven’t seen you in such a long time, Miss Granger, how have you been?”

Disgusting slimy asshole.

“I have been exceptionally well, minister, thank you.”

Me not asking about him was another slight that he seemed determined to ignore.
Pity.

“I have heard many good things about you from your teachers; they told me your development was exceptional!”

Well, of course they did.
Or rather… of course SHE did. I was 99.9% certain it had been Mrs. Shafiq who had been blabbing about my progress.

“Have you ever considered working for the ministry, Miss Granger?”

Wait, what??? Where had THAT come from?!

“Not at the moment, no. I am eight years old and therefore not allowed to work yet.”

The minister giggled (he legit GIGGLED!!!) and waved his hand in dismissal.

“Formalities, formalities”, he said with a patronizing smile, “it would be a very easy job, don’t worry, and since you would be working for me, I, as the minister of magic, would be able to make an exception, you know? Only for you, of course, since you are such an exceptionally bright young girl!”

I hated him. I officially hated him.
Did he really think that him singling me out like that would in any way sway my opinion?

“Well, I would have to talk to my guardian about that, of course”, I answered, trying my hardest to keep my expression halfway pleasant, “I can’t have anything interrupting my studies, they are my sole focus at the moment. But if you could possibly provide some details to the nature of this job opportunity, I could give you a more satisfying answer, I am sure.”

He seemed hesitant and smiled unconvincingly bright. “No need, Miss Granger, no need. You are right, it is probably too early for this. I will talk to your guardian myself, once I deem you ready, so no need to concern Lucius right now, dear.”

Ah. So the job was probably spying on the Malfoy patriarch.

“As you wish, minister.”

Chapter Text

I had gained another coil in my left ankle. Snape gracefully glossed over that fact and told Mrs. Shafiq that nothing had changed in my glow.
She seemed disappointed, like she always did when he told her this particular lie. She also seemed like she had lost interest in teaching me, now that there had been no changes in my core since she had started teaching me.

“Seems like this is as high as you’ll go”, she sighed two weeks after the festivities of Ostara. “I guess it doesn’t really make sense to continue with this. I had expected more of you.”

The disappointment she expressed sat like a burning coal in my stomach, even though I knew that it was part of our ruse.

I had never taken disappointment in my abilities very well.

“I am sorry, Mrs. Shafiq”, I pressed out while balling my hands to fists at my side, hidden in the loose robes I wore that day.
She just scoffed, grabbed her things and disappeared in the direction of Lucius’ study, leaving me alone with Severus Snape.

The potion master snorted derisively, but stayed otherwise silent while waiting for the door to close behind the ministry spy and the anti-eavesdrop wards to take effect.

“I think she is right.”

… Ouch.
I had not expected this from him. He KNEW I was still developing my coils!
“I can still build out more”, I pressed out between my teeth.

Wait.
Why was I so angry all of a sudden? This was not like me!

With difficulty, I cleared my throat. “I know I don’t gain them as fast as I used to, but I am also not working on them as much as I did before, since I am practicing seeking more now. I can get back on the fast track, easy!”

Good. I sounded far calmer now.

Snape’s answer was a derisive snort.
Joy.

Grinding my molars, I tried my best to keep my composure.
I would not blow up on him now.
I wouldn’t.

“Come.”

The way he directed one-word commands at me grated at my nerves. I wouldn’t mind following his orders in another, less child-friendly setting, but I wasn’t his freaking house elf!

Finding solace in Narcissa’s etiquette lessons, I smiled politely and curtsied before I followed him out. Inside though, I was seething.
My coils were still developing! Why did he deny me the ability to build out more still?

…

And why did that man get to me this much?

I was not usually like this…

And… this was the second time I had thought this today.
Jeesh, if I wouldn’t know better, I would say it was hormones, but my body was bloody eight years old, far too early for this shit.

While I debated my inner hormonal level with myself, we had arrived in front of Lucius’ study.

“I have just terminated my employment. I hope we won’t run into each other again soon, Snape.”

Oh, how very polite my (obviously former) teacher was.

“I do pray for our paths not to meet every Monday, Shafiq.”

Yes, there was definitely no love lost between these two.

I was glad to see the woman leave.

“Severus, Miss Granger, please come in, will you?”
My dearest guardian sounded… weird.

After we had entered and sat down, Lucius frowned at the two of us.
“Mrs. Shafiq has terminated her contract. She sees no more potential for development in Miss Granger.”

It was a simple statement that should not cut.
It did, though, even though, rationally, I knew her assessment was based on a lie.

“I also think we should stop, Lucius.“

AAARGH!!!

Lucius’ left eyebrow climbed skywards. “You think she is stagnating?”

Stagnating??? Me??? Excuse me??? I was working my ass off!!!

Before I could explode on the two men, Snape scoffed. “Of course not. The world would have to end before that girl gave up on furthering herself.”

… Wait, what?

“Explain, then.”
Lucius’ voice sounded slightly colder than usual.

“She gained another coil. Her development is too fast, Lucius. She needs to slow down. She’s out of balance.”

Out of balance? Did he mean I actually WAS hormonal?

A crease appeared between Lucius’ furrowed brows.
“Is she already over the edge?”

Edge? What edge?

“I think so. I do believe she should start the regimen.”

What regimen? WHAT THE HECK WAS GOING ON HERE???

Lucius only nodded, while Snape stared at him intently and I was close to bursting.

“Can you?”, Lucius asked and Snape snorted.

CAN. HE. WHAT???

A loud crash and sudden sharp pain in my right upper arm and my right cheek brought me out of my anger.
Something warm dripped into my neckline.
Not understanding what had happened I stared at the glass shards all around me, as well as the spilled bourbon that soaked the papers on Lucius’ desk.

I blinked.
“Did I just…?!”

I hadn’t used accidental magic like this since I had taken the first steps into the art of forming. Of course I had used my magic, I did it regularly, actually, and I also had used accidental magic as well, but it was always in a… well… in a useful manner. Not this emotion-fuelled destruction.

The two men looked at me with raised eyebrows, before Snape nodded with a sigh and Lucius just cleaned up the mess with a flick of his hand.

“Look at me, girl”, the potions master grumbled and pointed his black wand first at my cheek, then at my upper arm.
Warmth enveloped the places he touched and the pain disappeared.

“We will have to pause your studies, Miss Granger”, my dearest guardian said and sighed. “You might have realized that you are not your usual self… This is the first indication of Core sickness.”

Wait. Core sickness? What in all heaven’s name was that?

“You might remember our conversation about the artificial expansion some purebloods force on their children and that this can cripple said child?”

I nodded.

“And you might also remember that this artificial expansion damages the net? And that it takes time and quite a few potions to heal these injuries?”

I nodded again.
Yes, I remembered, but I had never undergone this artificial Core-expansion, so I didn’t really see how this pertained to my situation.

“It seems the development of your Core was too fast for your body to cope with. You seem to have developed the symptoms of first stage Core sickness.”

… I had WHAT now?

“This means you are not allowed to access your magic anymore and you are forbidden from meditating, since you don’t seem capable of doing the latter without accessing the former”, Snape informed me coolly.
“You will have to be under constant surveillance of a healer and potion master.”

That meant… him?
Wait, WHAT???

Lucius had scribbled something while Severus had explained the problem to me.
“So, you will go and live with Severus for the next month. While he has class, your lessons in Wizarding History and Pureblood Etiquette will take place in his private quarters. The rest of your classes will be suspended for the time being.”

I just sat there, blinking like an owl.
I was to move in with Severus Snape for one whole month?
I was going to be LIVING with SEVERUS SNAPE for four bloody weeks???

I could feel my heart stuttering in my chest.
This was… like… a dream come true!!!

…

I did not think the dearest potion master knew what he had just agreed to, though…

Chapter Text

It hadn’t taken long to pack my trunk, since Minnie had done everything for me. She knew me well enough by now that she had used up four fifth of the space for books.
I liked her.
When she was not trying to deafen me by hitting the gong directly beside my ear, that was.

We used floo powder to arrive directly in Snape’s private quarters in Hogwarts. Him stepping elegantly out of the fireplace, me nearly falling flat on my face.

Again.

His living room was… kind of weird. As if he just couldn’t be bothered to decorate.
One wall was nearly all windows, through which you could look out into the Black Lake. In front of it was a small table with three uncomfortable looking wooden chairs.
I was pretty sure he used them to get rid of unwanted company faster.

Directly opposite was the fireplace made out of heavy granite. On top of the mantle were some old looking wooden chests and boxes, probably containing things I should definitely not touch.
Around that stood three leather armchairs that looked so soft I could probably melt into them.

The rest of the walls were hidden behind bookshelves, which were filled to the brim with the most interesting looking volumes I couldn’t wait to get my hands on.

There were four concealed doors behind the shelves, only visible if one looked closely.

“Kitchen”, Snape practically grunted while motioning in the direction of the first one, followed by an immediate “Guest bathroom” for the second door.
“Outside. You are not to leave my rooms unaccompanied”, he continued while motioning to the third one, before opening the fourth door.
It was a narrow corridor with three more doors.

One after the other he named the rooms. The first door on the left led to a storage room, the one in front opened to a staircase leading to his private lab and potion storage, and the right one hid his private living room.
There were some more bookshelves, but they were hidden behind obviously spelled glass. Closed and also clearly warded cupboards took up most of the remaining space on the walls and a big sofa and two cosy reading armchairs were the room’s centrepiece.
No fireplace, no windows.

“Bathroom, my room, your room”, Snape grumbled, gesticulating vaguely in the direction of three doors, again hidden behind bookshelves, before resizing my trunk and storming out again.

Fine.

Grumbling and cursing under my breath, I manoeuvred the heavy trunk into the space he had deemed as mine.
The room itself was quite small. A bed, a bedside table with a weird looking orb, a bookshelf and a wardrobe.

Swearing in the most colourful way I could manage in six different languages, I unpacked everything.

Clothes into the wardrobe, books into the bookshelf.

Joy.

I kind of had the impression that there was no goal in my life at the moment. I felt like a fish out of water and I had no idea why.
And my mind came up with the weirdest shit EVER.
Once it realized Snape would have to exit the bathroom into his private living room, it bombarded me with pictures of half-dressed potion masters, wet hair clinging to their foreheads and necks, wearing nothing but a towel around their hips.

Damn, this Core sickness must be hitting me hard.

…

Or not.

I was just… confused.

Like… REALLY confused.

My mind didn’t work like it used to, which was quite upsetting. I hated not being in control of my mental faculties.

A knock ripped me out of my reveries.
“Yes?”
“Come.”

Oh, how I loved Snape’s one-word commands.
NOT.

…
At least not in this context.

…

WHAT THE HELL WAS WRONG WITH ME???

“Drink”, was the next thing the current centre of my inappropriate fantasies ordered and pressed a pretty glass phial into my hand.

Well, then.

It smelled like different herbs I knew from my earlier life and some of the weird stuff I had gotten to know with Fenrir.

Interesting.

Snape observed me sniffing the potion, seemingly debating with himself about something.

“What do you smell?”, he asked with a resigned sigh, seemingly uninterested in the answer.

“I… can distinctly make out Chamomile and Valerian as well as Woundbalm and Liquid Phlegm”, I answered, “and is this… Rosemary? I think? And something slightly metallic. Probably blood of some kind, I guess…?”

Snape stared at me with eyes full of displeasure.

What had I done now???

“There is no blood in this potion, what you can smell is the residue of the iron stirring rod. Contrary to popular opinion, it DOES matter what kind of material you use for brewing.”

Huh.

“But drink it already, I don’t have all day.”

Jeesh.

Suppressing an eyeroll I immediately gulped the disgusting brew down. And yeah, it WAS disgusting. Harry had not exaggerated in the books.

“And that”, he continued. “Finish this until Wednesday. I will test you on it.”

Aaand he left.

Joy.

THAT was a book, by the way. A book that he had placed haphazardly on my lap. A book with bloody 1000 pages.
And it was Sunday.
Urgh, he just wanted me to stay out of his way, I could tell. But whatever. He was one of the smartest, most talented people I knew here, so being taught by him, even in this manner, made a bubble of happiness swell in my chest.

…

Why was I getting sappy now?

This Core sickness thing had really done a number on my emotional state…

Okay, emotions had to take a backseat now, though. I had a book to read.