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Flying on the back of a hippogriff, her eyes closed and hands tightly clasped around an escaped convict’s waist, Hermione questioned at what point her practical, methodical, list making-self had been taken over by ‘act first, think later’. She’d always been logical, reasoning problems out with facts and research, and yet three years running she had found herself barrelling into life endangering scenarios without any form of a plan. She would have put it down to Harry’s influence, but their latest jaunt had been facilitated by Dumbledore himself. The most powerful wizard in Britain had sent two teenagers back in time to rescue a prisoner and an oversized bird. Surely there could have been a better solution than this.

Hermione rolled her eyes as Sirius proclaimed her ‘the brightest witch of her age’. Clearly not bright enough if he was about to disappear into the countryside to remain on the run.

‘What happens now?’ Harry muttered, as they made their way back to the common room. Hermione slowed, allowing him to walk in front of her slightly. ‘For a couple of hours this evening, I had family again.’ He didn’t turn as he stepped through the portrait opening and headed up to the boy’s dormitories.

Adrenaline still high from the events of the night, Hermione settled into her favourite armchair next to the fire. Crookshanks quickly found her and curled up in her lap. Her heart ached for Harry. His first direct connection to his parents, a connection with stories and memories, a person who truly loved his parents was gone. It was an easy decision; she would do anything to try and give him a better life.

It hadn’t taken long into her first year to realise just how hard things with the Dursleys were for Harry. Although his school uniform had been tailored by Madame Malkin, his casual clothes hung off him, revealing his thin wrists and exposing a collarbone just slightly too evident beneath his neckline. His eyes never failed to light up at dinner times as the food appeared and he always ate like he was running out of time. Towards the end of the school year she had noticed him begin to sneak food away from the table. She’d asked Ron about it but he just said Harry put it in his trunk under a stasis charm ‘for a midnight snack’. Ron didn’t think anything of it, but Hermione knew better. Too often she noticed Harry brace when he got a question wrong in Potions, as if he was expecting Snape to physically attack him for saying the wrong answer. She didn’t like Snape one bit, but even she knew he wouldn’t go that far. She had been furious when she found out that Ron, Fred and George had flown their dad’s car to Little Whinging, but couldn’t remain angry for long when they’d explained his room had literally become a jail cell. That was the first time she’d gone to Dumbledore to let him know her concerns, but he brushed her off, stating that ‘family was the best place for Harry to be’. The twinkle in his eye had strongly indicated that there were things she didn’t understand, and his word wasn’t to be questioned. But now, watching his first opportunity at a loving family fly into the night? That was the final straw. She was going to do something, and it was going to be a Hermione Granger plan. A comprehensive, well thought out, minutely planned operation that would give Harry some happiness back. The first thing on the list was obvious.

Clear Sirius Black’s name.

Chapter Text

“Your owl was a surprise Mia. If it wasn’t so out-of-the-blue-random I wouldn’t have bothered showing up in the library on a Saturday morning,” Theo breezed into the library. “I have a feeling this isn’t to do with Ancient Runes.”

Since taking on her extra classes without Harry and Ron, Hermione had found herself forming a cordial acquaintanceship with the gangly curly haired Slytherin. Theo had always been more reserved in his comments towards the Gryffindors and, after being paired with him for half of the year on an Ancient Rune’s project, Hermione had warmed to him easily. Once she’d managed to make him relax around her, she’d quickly grown to enjoy his incessant chattering and didn’t mind answering his constant questions about muggle technology and culture. His nickname for her, she was less keen on, but he’d adopted it since the first moment they’d started working together and wouldn’t let it go. The ridiculous boy had simply told her that ‘Hermione’ was a mouthful.

Theo flopped himself into a chair with a dramatic sigh, swung his legs up onto the table in front of him and chucked his head back.

“If I miss French toast day in the Great Hall I’m going to be pissed. What’s going on?”. His eyes were closed as she made her way over to where he was sat, perching herself on the table next to his feet.

“I need you to act as a go between to facilitate a meeting between me, Malfoy and his mother.”

As dramatically as he’d put his legs on top of the table, he swung them back off again, almost hitting Hermione in the process.

“Are you mad?”

“Perfectly sane.”

“Taken too many hexes to the head?”

“Nope.”

“Spent too long with your head over a cauldron?”

“Nope.”

“What the hell Mia? Why do you want to speak to the Malfoy’s?”

“Not ‘the Malfoy’s’, Narcissa and Draco... for now,” She rolled her eyes as he scoffed at her use of Malfoy’s first name. “Draco because he’s the in to get to Narcissa, Narcissa because she’s a Black.”

“And why is Hermione Granger, muggleborn friend of Harry Potter, wanting to speak to the Noble House of Black?”

She chucked him a copy of that morning’s Daily Prophet, showing an image of the screaming mugshot of Sirius on a loop with the headline ‘Black Escapes Again: When Will the Wizarding Community Feel Safe?’.

“Because, Sirius Black is innocent of all charges…’ Theo’s eyes widened and then narrowed into a frown, “…and I helped him escape last night.”

“The actual fuck…”

“Language!”

“No, you can’t call language on me. It’s 6am on a Saturday, I’m in the library and you’ve just dropped major pureblood gossip and a criminal offence on me. Oo, am I an accomplice now?!” His face morphed into a mischievous grin.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hermione started talking at break neck speed, “Harry has a map that shows all of Hogwarts and the inhabitants, so he can see where everyone is at all times. It was confiscated by Professor Lupin but not before Harry had seen the name of Peter Pettigrew pop up. Which was odd, but he didn’t think anything of it at the time. Don’t…!” she stopped as Theo made to interrupt, “last night we were visiting Hagrid, and Ron’s rat, Scabbers, made a break for it. Next thing we knew we were in the Shrieking Shack with Sirius Black. Lupin turned up and explained that he’d followed us because a) he’d seen Sirius’ name on the map and b) he’d also seen the name of Peter Pettigrew. Turns out they were all friends at Hogwarts with Harry’s Dad. Actually, they’re the ones who created the map which is why Lupin knew how to use it. It’s ingenious magic really, especially when you consider they were teenagers…” Theo coughed, snapping her out of her detour, she was rambling now, “well, essentially Sirius explained that when the Potter’s went into hiding he was meant to be secret keeper, but swapped with Peter Pettigrew at the last minute. No one knew apart from him, the Potter’s, Peter and Dumbledore. Peter betrayed them and when Sirius found out, he went after him. Pettigrew staged his death, cut of his finger, blew up the street and left Sirius to take the fall.” She exhaled heavily.

“And you believe him? The man’s a lunatic who’s been in Azkaban for 13 years!”

“Both he and Professor Lupin made Peter show himself! Pettigrew was Scabbers! He’s an Animagus, they all were, and he’s been living as a rat all this time. He literally changed from a rat to a man in front of our eyes Theo. I’m ranking it up there as one of the weirdest things I’ve seen in my life. Before we could get to Dumbledore and explain, Lupin turned into a werewolf, Pettigrew escaped, and Sirius was re-captured. If it wasn’t for the time turner, he would have suffered the Dementor’s kiss by now.”

“Hang on Mia, back up. Lupin’s a werewolf? You have a time turner?” Theo was spluttering now, “I think it’s too early, I don’t think my ears are doing their job right.”

So, Hermione started again. This time running through the night blow by blow. Theo listened intently, every so often running his hand through his hair and muttering obscenities to himself.

“And… Harry has it so rough with his Aunt and Uncle. I’m sure how they treat him is child abuse. He deserves to have someone who loves him.” She hadn’t realised she was crying now, “and Sirius can be that for him. Not to mention, again, he’s innocent, he shouldn’t be left to be on the run when I know I can clear his name.”

Theo had moved by now to sit next to her on the table, his arm around her shoulders as she attempted to stifle her tears.

“I’ll help Mia, you stupid big-hearted witch,” he mumbled into her hair, “it’ll take some Nott trickery and peskiness, but I’ll get you in a room with Narcissa and Malfoy.”

Hermione sniffed.

“I do have a question though,”

“Hm?”

“You said that no-one knew who the secret keeper was apart from the Potter’s, Pettigrew, Sirius and Dumbledore.”

“Yeah..” Hermione knew where he was going.

“And Dumbledore gave you the time turner to help Sirius escape last night.”

“Yes.”

“So, Dumbledore knew all along he was innocent. And again, last night. But he didn’t stop Fudge or clear Sirius’ name before now?”

“I don’t understand it either. I was up all night trying to work out what to do. That question is the reason I’m not in Dumbledore’s office right now.”

“Okay.” Theo pushed himself up from the table, straightened his tie and turned to Hermione so he was stood in front of where she sat on the desk. He stroked a tear away from her cheek before giving her chin a light shove with his knuckle. To an outsider the action would have looked incredibly intimate, but for some reason Hermione knew this was safe. Theo was a safe space, much like Harry, and she needed that right now. “I’ll owl you. But you need to sleep. You look like crap.”

“Charming Theodore. I’ll follow you to breakfast first. Wouldn’t want you missing your French toast.” She prodded him in the ribs, giving him a weak smile in the process.

“We’ll get this mess sorted Mia. Don’t thee fear fair maiden.”

They made their way to breakfast, putting distance between themselves as they approached the Great Hall, because god forbid a Gryffindor and a Slytherin be seen spending time together outside of academically forced purposes.

Chapter Text

Harry’s mood didn’t improve over the next couple of days and was made worse by the news that Professor Lupin had resigned. He took to spending prolonged periods of time out on the quidditch pitch running training drills, leaving Hermione in Ron’s company. She wouldn’t have normally minded, having long harboured a crush on the youngest Weasley boy, but since the rescue he had become jealous of the link she and Harry shared with Sirius and the time Harry wanted to spend with her discussing ‘what ifs’.

A couple of days after seeing Sirius off into the night, Pidgwigeon arrived with a note for Harry and an apology to Ron for leaving him without a familiar. Hermione had to try hard to stop rolling her eyes at that, knowing what she knew now, Scabbers was never a familiar in the sense that Hedwig or Crookshanks were to Harry and her, but she could acknowledge that at the end of the day Ron had lost a pet. Sirius had also sent her a missive at the end of his note, so when Harry rushed off a letter in reply to him she asked to add her own message to the end before he sent it off with Hedwig. She added, “Black is the night until the stars gather. I’m working on it.” She wasn’t sure where she’d got the phrase from, or that he’d understand exactly what she had planned, but she felt like the message stood on its own regardless.

“I wish Harry would cheer up a bit,” Ron grumbled as he watched Harry leave the benches of the Great Hall, “it’s been a week now and he’s still moping around.”

“He’s had a lot going on, I don’t think it’s going to be something he just gets over Ronald.”

“It’s not like anything has changed though. And now he knows he has someone out there looking out for him, he could cheer up a little bit!”

Hermione seethed, “Padfoot is on the run. Harry has found out that he had the possibility of a loving upbringing in the wizarding world, an upbringing that was taken from him as a result of the actions of one of his Dad’s best friends and, since finding that out and thinking he finally had a chance at a normal life, his godfather was taken away from him again. And he’s being forced to go back to the Dursley’s! And you think he should be happy about that!?”

“I just mean..”

“No! Just shut up Ronald. Until you know how he feels, you don’t get to say anything else on the matter!” she stood up to leave the table, concerned at the overwhelming anger growing in her chest.

“Merlin ‘Mione, no need to get your knickers in a twist, I was just saying,” Ron snickered, and he turned to Seamus and Dean pulling a face she couldn’t see but resulted in all of their laughter. Seeing red, she turned away from the table to follow after Harry but not before levitating a jug of pumpkin juice off the table and dumping it over Ron’s head, casting a quick silencio in the process to avoid Ron drawing the attention of the top table. She turned on her heel and stormed out, taking a moment to catch Theo’s eye and give him a quick nod as he watched from across the hall. Today was the day. She didn’t notice that he wasn’t the only Slytherin watching.

“Oo I love it when Gryffindor’s fight!” Pansy squealed.

“Me too! I don’t think I ever expected to see it from Granger though. That was beautifully done. But then, she’s always been good with charms.” Daphne contributed, “Positively Narcissa-esque Draco, no?”

“Hm?” Draco was still staring in the direction of the entrance to the Great Hall. Watching Granger give Weasley a verbal bashing, dump pumpkin juice on him and then silence him had left him speechless. If being punched in the face by her a week earlier hadn’t woken him up to her being a force of nature, that display certainly did. He pushed the thought to the back of his head and turned his attention back to his breakfast.

“We’re talking about how positively Slytherin Granger was just now. The silencio as she went was perfect.” Pansy added. “Such a shame she can’t control her hair.” Theo watched as Goyle gave her a funny look, “Oh, and of course she has dirty blood.” He clocked Pansy shoot a look to Daphne, who looked at her nails and gave a slight nod. That was interesting. Draco was still playing with his food and Crabbe and Goyle had gone back to discussing quidditch. Blaise was seemingly in his own world reading a magazine that appeared to be upside down. They’d all learnt not to ask.

Theo leant closer to Draco before prodding his hand with a fork.

“The fuck Theo?”

“Can we meet in the library after breakfast?”

“We’re done with exams, why the hell would I spend my…” before he could finish Theo stabbed him again, harder, in the hand with his fork, “Fine! But if you’re going to try and force another one of those Bronte novels on me again, I refuse. The last one was grim.”

“Nothing like that brother. And Wuthering Heights is not grim, it’s a masterpiece.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t a masterpiece. I said it was grim. It can be both at the same time.”

“What are you boy’s chattering about?” Pansy cut in.

“Oh nothing,” Theo replied before Draco could say anything, “just wondering how wonderful dear old Drakey-boy here will look after his summer trip to Le Chateau de Etoiles. All that tan our pale skinned boy will return with. You know?”

Draco shot Theo a look that clearly showed his interest was piqued now he knew the library meeting was secret, but was quickly distracted by Pansy and Daphne.

“We’ll be joining you like usual right? I haven’t heard from my mother yet, but please tell me we can come to stay for some of the holiday.” Pansy was genuinely pleading in the way she only ever did when it came to conversations about getting out of her parent’s house. It wasn’t a secret among the Slytherin third years that she had it hard at home. Hell, they nearly all did. A merry band of emotionally damaged kids, but Draco’s house was always a respite.

“Mother has the elves on standby for people arriving from the second week of the holidays. I don’t know why you bother asking, we all know you’ll rock up regardless,” Draco smirked, “Anyway, I need to head to the library to return some books. Theo you’re coming with me.”

“Oo is that an order? How very commanding. Are you trying to turn me on Mr Malfoy?” Theo joked as he stood to follow Draco from the hall, leaving the girls snickering, Crabbe and Goyle failing to keep up with the conversation and Blaise passively listening to what had just gone on.

Theo was wittering and it had Draco on edge. He hadn’t stopped talking since they’d left the hall and refused to be drawn on why they were heading to the library. Draco couldn’t even keep track of what his friend was talking about. In the short walk to the library Theo had mentioned something about Potter, a new band he’d found called Nirvana and an author called Diana Wynne Jones. Draco didn’t know where Theo kept finding these new artists, but he’d definitely livened up the Slytherin common room in the last year. He was a frenzy of topics and was doing a good job of keeping Draco from asking him questions but, as they rounded the corner into the library, he abruptly stopped and rounded on Draco, wand out. Without time to react, Draco found himself pinned against a wall, wand in his pocket undrawn, being faced down by his childhood friend.

“Are you fucking mental Theo?! What the hell’s got into you this morning?” he shoved at Theo’s chest to create some space between them.

“I need you to promise to be civil.”

“Civil! You’ve got a wand to my throat!”

“Promise before we go in there,” and Theo gestured to the library.

“You want me to be civil, in the library? Not a place I notoriously go wild Nott.” He drawled, trying to exude some essence of calm. Theo’s magic felt oddly defensive and he was feeling a pull to the library regardless of whether Theo was going to let him enter or not.

“I need you to hear someone out and then use the Malfoy influence to help. And you should know by now that I don’t ask much of you and when I do it’s a big deal.”

“I guess…”

“Promise me Draco.”

“Merlin, I fucking promise. What’s going on?”

Theo led him through into the restricted section, somehow bypassing the locks that usually blocked entry to anyone lower than NEWT level and took him into a back corner of the library Draco had never been in before. Underneath a stained-glass window, tucked in a corner, was a small circular table and sat at it, Hermione Granger. Draco felt his blood begin to boil.

“Are you guys dating?! Is that the reason for secrecy? Theo, your Dad…”

“God no!”

“Merlin’s tits, no!”

Granger and Theo were both now stood looking aghast, staring at each other like the thought hadn’t ever crossed their minds. For some reason it calmed Draco, though it left him with more questions. Before he could say anything, Theo was talking again,

“Before you say another word Draco, Mia is my friend. You won’t use any slanders to her while I’m here, and you’re going to hear her out. Then you can leave and make a decision.”

“A decision about what? Why are you calling Granger, Mia?”

“Promise again.”

Hermione had sat back down at the table looking the picture of poise and neutrality. Theo gave Draco a withering look before taking a seat beside her, patting her hand and then leaning back in his chair. He eyed the seat across from him and used his wand to pull it out slightly for Draco to sit in, before aiming the wand at Draco again.

“Promise. Again.”

“You’re fucking scary Theo you know that?” Granger chuckled under her breath.

“Language Granger,” Draco quipped before he could stop himself.

There was a moment of silence before Theo erupted into laughter, “She’s telling me off for my language all the time, finally someone called her out. Potty mouth this one, but you wouldn’t think it! Sit Draco.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You said ‘fuck’ Mia” Theo retorted,

“Did not!”

“Did so!”

“I so did not!”

Before Theo could answer again Draco coughed loudly. “If you’re done bickering, I’d like to know why I’m here witnessing this childish squabble.”

He took a seat, looking disinterestedly at his nails in the same way his father did when he was growing bored of a conversation. He wasn’t sure he pulled it off quite the same. Theo went to make a final retort to Granger but she caught him on the arm with her fist first. Draco was bemused, it felt like he was watching Theo and himself squabble. How had he missed Theo becoming friends with Granger and why was seeing them together so endearing? The punch, the pumpkin juice dumping and her relationship with Theo was throwing him for a loop. He’d pointed his question at Theo, but it was Granger who answered. And answer she did, with a ridiculous tale about hippogriffs, time travel and his convict cousin.

“What makes you think that I would help my blood traitor cousin get free?” Draco had no love lost for the man having never met him, and his ideals were definitely at odds with Draco’s upbringing.

“Because he’s Lord Black, head of the Noble House of Black, cousin to your mother and I don’t know, innocent.” Hermione rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “Blood traitor or not, doesn’t that count for anything? I don’t know much about pureblood circles, but from what I can see you’re loyal and bound to your houses by pride. If one of your own is targeted, you group in your Slytherin snakey way to bring the person who caused them harm to justice. So, tell me, why wouldn’t House Malfoy want justice for the wrongful imprisonment of Lord Sirius Black?”

Draco took a proper glance at Hermione. Her hair was wild and sparking and her skin flush from the exertion of making her point. She looked full of fire, but her eyes were pleading.

“Who would we be getting justice from? Seems to me that the main cause of hardship to the House of Black is your dear old Dumbledore.”

Draco watched as Hermione’s posture changed, beginning to look unsure of herself she shot a glance at Theo, who seemed to silently encourage her to continue talking.

“I know we’re on different sides of the fence when it comes to wizarding society. I know your family hate the idea of someone like me and you don’t like Dumbledore because he supports a version of the wizarding world that you don’t agree with,” she sounded quiet and defeated, “but, just because he supports the existence of muggleborns, doesn’t mean that I have to believe that everything Dumbledore does is right. There’s clearly more to what went on 13 years ago and Dumbledore is wrapped up in all of that. Harry has an abusive homelife,” Draco’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “and he has nearly died every year since he started at Hogwarts and yet Dumbledore hasn’t offered him any more protection or listened to me when I’ve had concerns. Maybe in his fully re-instated position as Lord Black and godfather to Harry, Sirius can finally make Dumbledore listen.”

“So, this is about your precious Potter?” Draco felt a pang of irritation.

Hermione shook her head, “This is about a lot of things. Pick whatever reason makes sense to you if it’ll mean you’ll help.”

She pushed her chair back and went to pick her bag up off the floor.

“I’ll await your owl. If you do want to help, I think it’ll be best if we can clear this up as soon as possible during the summer.”

She walked away leaving Theo and Draco sat in silence.

“So?”

“So? Since when are you and Granger friends?”

“Since an Ancient Runes project earlier in the year,” Theo waved him off, “are you going to contact your mother or what?”

“I’m taking it all in. You’re hang around with a mu-“ Theo punched him in the arm before he could finish the sentence,

“She’s my friend Draco. We started working together and being around her just felt so easy, she just let me be myself, no pureblood hierarchy like there is when we hang around with the Slytherins. I don’t need to wonder whether someone’s reporting back to my father. Getting to know her beyond the swot she is in class has been amazing. I’ve learnt so much about the muggle world. Everything that I grew up believing doesn’t make sense anymore, and I won’t let you call her that.” Theo growled at him. “Something is up with Dumbledore, use that as your motivation to contact your mother.”

Theo pushed a piece of parchment and a quill towards Draco. Draco picked up the quill, twirling it in his fingers a few times, before dipping it into the ink pot in front of him and beginning to write,

Dear Mother…

Chapter Text

Hermione had no idea whether talking to Malfoy had worked. She had contingency plans ready in case he decided not to help but getting him and his mother on board in clearing Sirius’ name was definitely the more straight forward and efficient plan she’d come up with. As she made her way back to the common room she wondered just how quickly things would happen if the Malfoy’s decided to help. Could Harry be out of the Dursley’s house before the end of the summer? Could he actually have a normal break from school for once.

‘Esto Fortis’

 She gave The Fat Lady the password and stepped through the entrance into the common room. It was nearing the end of term and the beginning of summer had given the students ample opportunities in the last couple of weeks to make the most of the school grounds now that they weren’t covered in snow or being battered by the wind and rain, so the Gryffindor common room was nearly empty. Nearly empty, but for Harry, sat in a large wing back armchair near the fire, watching as she walked into the room.

“You have some explaining to do.”

“I do?” she queried, not sure where this was going until she noticed the map in his hands, “Lupin gave it you back?” she sighed, making her way over to the sofa next to him.

“Yeah, he did. Want to explain why you, Nott and Malfoy were having a cosy get together in the library just now? I know you had that project with Nott, but I thought you were done with that. Why the hell were you with Malfoy?” He was angry, his green eyes boring into hers.

“I’m working on something, I didn’t want to tell you yet in case it doesn’t work, but it’s good Harry. It’s a good thing I promise.” She reached across the arm of the sofa to try and take his hand, but he pulled back.

“’A good thing?’” he scoffed, “It’s Malfoy, why would you go to him to work on a ‘good thing’? Me and Ron are your friends, if you want help with something, come to us.”

“It’s a surprise! Please Harry, just trust me on this, you’ll be so happy if it works.”

“I don’t understand Hermione. A surprise, that’ll make me happy that involves Malfoy?”

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark but seriously,” she chuckled slightly at the near reference to his godfather’s name and managed to take Harry’s hand without him pulling away, “trust me, and know I wouldn’t be doing what I’m doing if it wasn’t for a good reason.” She squeezed his hand and gave him a small smile. Harry’s face softened slightly, and she could see that the fire in him had begun to settle. Closing his eyes and running his other hand through his hair and down his face he sighed,

“I haven’t told Ron what I saw on the map. Not that I’ve seen him much lately. But I don’t think he’d give you the benefit of the doubt as easily.” He gave Hermione a knowing look.

Harry and Hermione had grown used to the constant slurs and insults that Malfoy and his friends tended to throw their way. When the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor had first been explained to them in first year they had made peace with the idea that the two houses just didn’t get along. It wasn’t like the Gryffindor’s didn’t give as bad as they got. Hermione had found both of the Weasley twins squaring up against a younger Slytherin earlier in the year and had had to intervene to stop them going too far. But both Harry and Hermione had realised that, where Malfoy’s insults appeared to be house based and childish taunting, Ron’s had grown personal. He had ignited a feud that went beyond schoolyard politics. Hermione didn’t know when it had first happened, but both she and Harry had watched as the insults grew worse and the hexes began to sting more. Thinking back, Hermione questioned whether she had actually ever seen Malfoy start the interactions. The first time he had called her a mudblood, something that had only happened once, it had been Ron’s taunting that had begun the altercation.

“It’s not like I’m friends with Malfoy. He’s just useful for what I’m trying to do.” Harry raised an eyebrow at her, “he didn’t even call me a mudblood or anything.”

“I don’t like it. But fine. You’ll tell me at some point though right?” Harry folded up the map and pushed himself up from his seat pulling her up from her sofa in the process.

“Of course,” she said, burying her face in his chest as he brought her into a hug. He rested his chin on the top of her head and gave her a big squeeze.

“I’ll miss you over summer Hermione. I honestly don’t think I can cope with another summer with the Dursleys”.

“I know. I’m so sorry Harry.” She tightened her hold on him, tears pricking at her eyes at the longing to tell him her plans. They stood like that for another moment. Hermione didn’t have a sibling and she wondered if what she had with Harry was what having a brother was like. Pure, uncomplicated, love, respect and safety.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Ron had walked through the portrait and was staring at them mouth agape. Hermione could see he was going red in the face already, “are you guys a thing now?!”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed, “No Ronald, did you know members of the opposite sex can give each other hugs without there being anything sexual about it?”

“There’s no need to talk to me like that, you’re here with your hands all over him!”

“I don’t have my hands all over him, thank you! Harry anything you want to add?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Ron, you know we’re just friends, she’s like a sister more than anything.”

“Hmph. Whatever. We’re going to play a quick game of quidditch, wanna join us Harry?”

“Nah, sorry, I’ve still got packing to do before we leave. You have fun though.”

“’Mione? Wanna come watch?”

It was the last thing that Hermione wanted to do, but things had been tense with Ron and, if Harry wasn’t going to join him, she knew that both of their absences would fuel the division that had been created since they’d helped Sirius escape.

“Yeah, sure.”

Ron beamed at her and Harry gave her a sympathetic nod in thanks for taking the pressure of his attendance. It made her feel lighter knowing that she was helping him, even with something as small as this. She discreetly grabbed a book before following Ron out of the common room. At least the weather was nice today.

It was a couple of days later and the day before they would catch the Hogwarts Express back to London when an owl arrived in front of her at breakfast. It was an imposing eagle owl that stared her down as she took the letter addressed to her. The inscription on the front was written in immaculate cursive writing; that combined with the aloof gaze and the sheer size of the owl gave her a pretty strong idea as to who it belonged to. Not daring to look across the hall to the Slytherin table, she offered the owl a piece of bacon from her plate and gave it a tentative stroke before it flew off again, leaving her holding the neatly packaged letter. Harry was eyeing the parchment but had clearly gleaned that he wasn’t meant to ask, at least not at present, and Ron was too busy stuffing his face with food to have even noticed the arrival of the owl. She tucked the letter into her school bag, eager to get out of the hall so that she could read it in private. Her stomach was in knots, this had to be a good sign. The Malfoy’s wouldn’t have written if they weren’t interested in her proposal, they would have ignored her or sent Malfoy with a dismissal, right?

Across the hall Draco watched as Hermes flew down. Although he already knew that his mother was intending to write to Granger, it still felt jarring as he watched the Malfoy owl make its way to the Gryffindor table rather than to him. Granger took the letter from Hermes’ leg and he watched as she fed him something from her plate and smoothed his feathers. Hermes was notoriously vicious and seeing him accept the attention without reaction twisted something in Draco’s stomach. Granger was friends with his best friend, receiving letters from his mother and what, now a fan favourite with his owl? He hadn’t realised he had begun to frown until Pansy called on his attention.

“What are you staring at Draco? Is there another Gryffindor breakfast showdown taking place?”

“Nothing, just fed up of seeing so many Weasley’s on a regular basis. I’m looking forward to the holidays just so that I can go a day without having to look at a redhead.” He answered on the spot.

“Was that your owl at the Gryffindor table?” Blaise asked taking a sip of his coffee and not looking up from the Daily Prophet. Draco was forever amazed at how Blaise managed to walk through life unnoticed and seemingly disinterested but managing to see everything.

“Unlikely,” Theo piped up quickly, “I borrowed Hermes this morning to send a letter, he couldn’t be back by now. Must be a different owl.”

Blaise still didn’t look up from his paper, but Draco was sure he noticed his eyebrow raise slightly. He dropped the topic though.

Dear Miss Granger,

It has been brought to my attention that you have information appertaining to the innocence of my cousin and a plan to clear him of the charges laid against him. My son has not provided me with details, and I understand that this will be best discussed further in person.

If you are amenable, please meet Draco and I at the Copper Cauldron establishment in Diagon Alley on the ____ of July at 4 o’clock. Please be advised, the venue is discerning as to their clientele. If you mention that you have an appointment with me, they will ask no questions. I understand if you wish to bring a wizarding acquaintance, but might I ask that, due to his high profile, you refrain from bringing Mr Potter.

I will await your reply via Draco.

Regards,

N Malfoy

____ was the day that they returned from Hogwarts. Hermione was overjoyed to know that Narcissa was eager to get the ball rolling so soon. She would have to arrange something with her parents so that she could get to Diagon, but she was sure she could sort something. Looking back over the letter she wasn’t oblivious to the thinly veiled reference to her blood status in Narcissa’s mentioning of the venue, and Hermione agreed that she would feel more comfortable with someone there beside her, but her options at present were limited. There was little chance that either of the Weasley parents would agree to attend a meeting with a Malfoy. Theo would have been an option, but an adult would be preferable. Maybe it was time to bring in the next player.

Excusing herself from watching another game of exploding snap she left the common room and made her way through the castle to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classrooms. She knocked on her Professor’s study door, suddenly finding herself overcome with nerves. It had been one thing telling Theo and Malfoy, teenagers with no stake in Sirius’ life. Even contacting Mrs Malfoy felt like a hypothetical, at least until the meeting itself took place. But telling Professor Lupin her plans? This felt like a turning point. He was Sirius’ friend (possibly more if she had picked up on the right body language), and his world had been turned on its head since the full moon. She wasn’t sure how he would react to the plan she had set in motion, maybe she should have approached him before doing anything.           

The door swung open to reveal Professor Lupin sat at his desk. His office was full of boxes and packed bags and he looked exhausted. His face still showing the remnants of a black eye from where Buckbeak had fought with his werewolf form.

“Hermione, come in, I’ve been meaning to arrange a meeting with you before you leave tomorrow.”

“Oh? I wondered if we could…”

“Please take a seat, and let me begin”, he gestured to the leather armchair opposite him. Once she was seated, he continued, “I would first like to offer my deepest apologies for the events of the full moon. It has always been my deepest fear that I would put other people in danger as a result of my condition, and something I have managed to avoid for over 15 years. I wouldn’t wish the experience that you and Harry endured on my worst enemy let alone a couple of teenagers.”

“You don’t need...” he held up his hand to stop her from continuing,

“And secondly, I would like to thank you for your discretion in regard to my condition. I should have known that you would have worked it out after Professor Snape set the essay, and I can’t be grateful enough that, knowing what you knew, you still had faith in me to be your teacher. Not many students would have reacted the same and I’m sure, had anyone else found out, I would have been packing my bags months ago.” At that he lowered his head slightly, looking wistfully around his office, “It truly has been a joy to teach you Hermione.”

Hermione swallowed down the lump in her throat. She’d read up on the politics surrounding werewolves in the wizarding world and she knew that teaching at Hogwarts was likely one of the more prestigious and rewarding jobs her Professor would have held in a long time.

“Do you really have to leave?” She asked the question despite knowing the answer.

“I’m sure you know as well as I do that Dumbledore will be being inundated with owls demanding my resignation by now. This is easier for everyone. Now, how can I help?” he offered her a square of a chocolate bar he had pulled from his top drawer.

“Well, before I get to that, I would like to say that you don’t need to apologise or thank me for the events of this school year, but,” she hastily added before he could interject, “in order to prevent a back and forth, I’ll simply say that I’ve heard you.” Professor Lupin chuckled at that. She took in a big breath and exhaled slowly before continuing, causing her teacher to eye her with concern. Handing him the letter from Mrs Malfoy she pressed on,

“I would like to ask whether you would be available to accompany me to meet with Narcissa Malfoy, with the end goal being the full pardon of Sirius.”

She didn’t say anything else, letting her Professor take in the letter and her request.

“Who knows about this?” he said cautiously.

“Myself, Malfoy, as in Draco, Mrs Malfoy and Theodore Nott. Theo helped to get me in the same room as Malfoy so that I could ask him to contact his mother. I added cryptic note to the end of a letter Harry sent to Sirius… whether or not he understood it I don’t know.” She shrugged her shoulders, “Harry and Ron don’t know. I don’t want to get Harry’s hopes up and Ron is too hot headed to compute the idea that I’ve contacted the Malfoy’s.”

Lupin was still holding the letter.

“It’s an incredibly bold move Hermione. Honestly, I’m surprised you’ve even had a reply.” he mused, “Out of curiosity, why haven’t you gone to Dumbledore?”

“Why haven’t you?” she shot back.

With a sigh Lupin handed her back the letter, “I did.”

Hermione’s hand stilled as she took the letter back and tucked it back into her bag.

“Well then, I guess you know why. He has the power, but for some unknown reason he hasn’t acted to clear Sirius’ name in anyway. I’ve been waiting to see whether anything was announced in the Daily Prophet but there’s been nothing. If it hadn’t been for two teenagers, and an incredibly risky misuse of time, Sirius would be dead, when all Dumbledore needed to do was convince Minister Fudge to listen to reason for five minutes. I’ve read about occulumency and veritaserum. There are plenty of ways that they could have proved Sirius was innocent within seconds.”

“I raised the same points with Dumbledore myself. I even offered to hand over my memories.” She raised an eyebrow at that, memories were going to be the main crux of her case for Sirius’ innocence.

“As you will remember from your essay about werewolves however, we have a natural resistance to Veritaserum. Not enough has been researched into the topic and it would be easy for the Wizengamot to throw out any testimony given on the grounds that I had tampered with my memories. The implication would be that resistance to Veritaserum may very well extend into other mind defences.”

“You weren’t the only one there that night Sir,” she muttered.

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into with the Malfoys?”

“In truth, no. I don’t. But they have the influence in the Wizengamot that we need. They’re his best option if Dumbledore won’t do anything.” Lupin nodded gravely. “Harry needs this Sir. He needs Sirius in his life… and I think you do too.” Lupin’s eyes snapped to hers and she held his gaze. There was a moment of silence before his face broke into a bashful smile and he began running his hand through his hair. For a second, he looked his age.

“Merlin, you don’t miss a trick do you?” he laughed.

She smirked back, “I try not to Sir.”

They spent the next half an hour ironing out their plans. She would return home with her parents and Professor Lupin would arrive at her house before apparating them to Diagon Alley. She would explain the trip to her parents as an opportunity to attend a book signing at Flourish and Blotts. Her teacher wasn’t keen on lying to her parents, but the truth seemed likely to raise too many questions and cause concern. They both agreed that telling Harry should only be on the cards once they had an official answer from Narcissa and even then, it would be best to wait until everything was settled with the Ministry.

Chapter Text

Having Professor Lupin on board gave Hermione the support she needed to truly enjoy the final days of term. She managed to ‘bump’ into Theo and asked him to pass a message to Malfoy that the meeting was confirmed. Theo seemed genuinely happy that her plan was working and she was glad to have seen him before term finished. She gave him her old Walkman with a new mixtape she’d put together, a large bag of muggle sweets and promised to write to him over the holidays. He’d put the headphones on and started listening before she could finish explaining the track list.

They both knew that corresponding was risky, Theo’s dad being who he was, but Theo assured her that anything addressed directly to him in his bedroom at Nott Manor would make its way to him and him only. She hoped so.

Harry, however, was retreating further into his shell now that the end of the school year was upon them. Hermione couldn’t ignore the irony that, unless Sirius was pardoned, she had more chance of hearing from a Slytherin with a staunch blood purist father during the holidays than her best friend. She had asked Harry if she could ring him on the landline rather than sending an owl and Harry had all but laughed at her.

“You could always threaten them with the fact that your godfather is an escaped serial killer?” Ron suggested.

“But he isn’t a serial killer.” Harry snapped back.

“Yeah of course, we know that, but they don’t. Dad said that the muggles have been made aware of who he is. He was all over your newspapers and tallyvision wasn’t he?”

“I guess.” Harry seemed to be mulling it over. Hermione didn’t love the idea of threatening muggles with falsehoods, but if it meant Harry could have some contact throughout the summer, she could maybe get on board. Hopefully it wouldn’t be for long anyway.

The train journey back to Kings Cross was uneventful. Harry settled into the corner of the carriage with his head against the window and quickly fell asleep, leaving Ron alternating between complaining that he was bored, hungry or tired. When Neville and Seamus joined them, the boys settled into a long discussion about the upcoming quidditch world cup, leaving Hermione in peace to read.

On arriving at Kings Cross Hermione quickly located her parents and said goodbye to her friends and the Weasley family. As she glanced around the platform, a gleam of platinum blond hair caught her attention. Malfoy was being pulled into a tight embrace by what could only be assumed was his mother. The witch checked him over, giving his cheek an affectionate rub. Hermione watched as the matriarch was quickly surrounded by Draco’s friends. She also gave Theo a check over, giving him a kiss on the head and rearranging his tie. She gave both Pansy and Daphne long hugs, whispering into their hair and Hermione was sure she even caught her winking flirtatiously at Zabini as he placed a kiss on her hand. It was so affectionate and familial it took Hermione by surprise. She didn’t know what she had expected from Malfoy’s mother, but it hadn’t been the sheer amount of love that was eradiating off, not just her, but Draco’s friends as well. They were all in admiration of her.

“Come on love, we need to get going if you want to freshen up and unpack before your Professor comes to pick you up.”

She turned away from the scene, nerves beginning to return again at the thought of her afternoon escapade. Her Dad picked up her trunk and they turned to leave the platform.

Draco watched her the moment she stepped off the train. The last two days had been torture watching for hints that she was going to back out of the meeting. It wasn’t that he wanted her too, but the idea of Granger meeting his mother had him on edge. She had said farewell to Weaselby and Potter, receiving what looked like a suffocating hug from the Weasley mother in the process. He was surprised to see that her parents looked well dressed for muggles. He didn’t know much about muggle fashion, but they held themselves well and definitely looked superior to the Weasley family. Was Granger monied? He couldn’t help but appreciate the apparent boredom and lack of interest her parents appeared to have in the one-sided conversation Mr Weasley was having with them. The Weasley elder was oblivious but, well versed in the subtly of glances from his father, Malfoy could tell that Mr Granger definitely despised the man.

“Come on Draco dear, your father will want to see you before we go out this afternoon and Mipsy has prepared your favourites for afternoon tea.” His mother followed his gaze to where Granger and her parents were making their way through the arch to the muggle platform. He held out his arm for his mother before leading her to one of the available floo fireplaces.

Hermione was adding the finishing touches to her outfit when she heard the knock at the door and the sound of her father greeting her school professor. If she wasn’t so nervous about meeting the Malfoy’s she would have felt embarrassed at the idea of her teacher being in her house. The melding of her muggle and wizarding worlds.

She had decided to tame her hair slightly and pull it into a low slicked back bun, allowing a couple of strands of hair loose to frame her face. It was a detour from how she normally styled her hair at school, but she had decided that making a good first impression with Mrs Malfoy was important. She had picked out a fitted, dark blue knee-length dress with cap sleeves. She had planned to wear it to a job interview she had lined up for a summer internship at a law firm her mother’s friend was a partner at. It was elegant and she thought it made her look older. She finished the outfit with some black heels and a black leather handbag she had been given for Christmas that year. She kept her makeup simple, adding a bit of mascara and a ‘your lips but better’ lipstick she had borrowed from Ginny and forgotten to return. Looking in the mirror she was happy with how she looked and hoped Mrs Malfoy would approve. Not one to throw all of her personality out of the window for another person however, she grabbed her leather jacket as she left her room and headed down the stairs.

“Ah, here she is!” her Dad announced as she made her way into the front room. Her professor was stood awkwardly to the side, glancing around the space. Her parents were well off, and she could sense that her teacher was surprised at the size of the house he had found himself in.

“You’re looking very dressed up for a book signing?” her mother commented, looking her up and down before levelling a sceptical stare at Professor Lupin.

“The author is well renowned in the wizarding world and his research is ground-breaking. I knew him at school and I think he’ll be a great connection for Hermione post-graduation if his field is something she continues to be interested in.” Lupin replied, this was the tale they had concocted, knowing that they were likely to get questioned before they left. It was a vague enough answer that appeared to placate her Dad at least.

“And what field would that be?” her mother pushed on. Occasionally Hermione wondered where she got her inquisitive nature from, but, in this moment, she knew it all came from her mother.

“The advancement and protection of magical beings,” she replied quickly on Lupin’s behalf, they hadn’t covered this part in detail, “It’s a prejudiced, highly underfunded and researched area of Wizarding policy.” She caught Professor Lupin’s eye and smirked. He seemed to take in her appearance in full for the first time since she’d entered the room and his face morphed into a brief look of confusion before returning to a neutral expression.

“Yes, well, have a good time. We’ll expect you back around 9.”

“Perfect, we’ll see you then.” Professor Lupin held out his arm to her and she lightly grabbed his elbow. Giving her parents a weak smile and a wave they apparated out of her living room and just outside the Leaky Cauldron. Whatever knots she had in her stomach before the apparition had tightened further as a result of the abrupt method of travel and she found herself needed to brace herself against her Professor to prevent herself from throwing up. He ran his hand across the tops of her shoulders in an attempt to sooth her. The action was fatherly and gentle and she welcomed the comfort, aware that, had it been one of her other teachers, she wouldn’t have been so at ease with the attention.

“Sorry, I should have asked if it was your first time apparating,” his voice was full of concern. She took a deep breath and steadied herself.

“I’m fine,” she said faintly, “it’s still preferable to a broomstick.” At that Lupin stopped rubbing her back, gave her a once over and tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

“All good?”

She nodded, taking the elbow he had extended to her and they proceeded to make their way through Diagon Alley.

Her trips to the wizarding shopping mecca had always been rushed and focussed affairs. Her stay at the Leaky Cauldron at the beginning of the school year was the longest time she had spent in the area and at the time she had been excited for a chance to properly explore beyond the main street. However, the presence of the whole Weasley family, and Hermione’s awareness of their limited funds, had meant that she didn’t feel comfortable asking them to accompany her to the deluge of shops she had wanted to investigate. Now in the late summer afternoon sun, Professor Lupin led her down new streets, unpopulated by school children picking up their school supplies. Apothecaries, café’s and clothing stores that would give any high-end boutique in Chelsea a run for their money lived on these streets. It was a completely different world to the hustle and bustle of the main mall in the height of the return to school season. As they made their way past another designer clothing store Hermione spied the sign for the Copper Cauldron. The restaurant front was adorned in plants that appeared to be growing out of the building's façade. So much so that the brickwork was completely hidden. It looked extremely exclusive based on how well dress the clientele were. Witches and wizards sat at tables outside drinking elaborate looking cocktails and carafes of wine and each table was adorned with floating bluebell flames in jars providing warmth to the patrons.

“Well, here we are,” Lupin said holding the door open for Hermione to step through. She walked up to the maitre’d counter and waited for him to arrive.

“How can I help you, Miss..? he smarmed, clearly hoping for a second name appropriate for the venue.

“I’m here to meet with Narcissa Malfoy. We should have a booking for 4 o’clock.” She refused to give him her surname, knowing that he would likely sneer at her (and possibly throw them out) and made a point of emphasising that the booking was for both of herself and Mrs Malfoy. The waiter’s eyes widened for a second, running over her appearance first, which she gathered he deemed semi-acceptable, and then over Professor Lupin’s. Hermione wondered whether she should have convinced him to borrow one of her Dad’s suit jackets.

“Of course, follow me.”

He led them through the restaurant and into a back courtyard. There in the centre was a sole circular table dressed for four people and surrounded by more bluebell flame jars. Mrs Malfoy and her son were seated facing the door and rose as they entered the space. Mrs Malfoy was wearing a light blue satin tea dress that shimmered slightly as she stood. It made her hair, which was pulled into a half updo look even more like starlight. She was the image of poise and elegance. Malfoy was wearing a dark grey suit outfit with a white shirt, exactly the stuck-up type of thing Hermione imagined he wore outside of school, however the top two buttons of his shirt were undone giving him a slightly nonchalant demeanour.

“Thank you, Patrice. Please ensure that, beyond yourself, no-one else interrupts or comes out here.”

“Very well Ma’am,” he held out a chair for Hermione, “May I take any drinks orders?” Hermione took off her jacket, handing it to Patrice without glancing at him, and watched as Mrs Malfoy looked her up and down. The witch let out a strange noise that almost sounded like a gasp and put her hand to her chest.

“Mother?” Draco spoke for the first time since they’d arrive, worry written all over his face.

Mrs Malfoy looked to Lupin for a second who had caught her eye, she composed herself and continued,

“We will have a decanter of white elf wine, some sparkling water for the table and a firewhisky with a dash of bitters for Mr Lupin. That is still your drinks order I take it?” she directed her question at the Professor.

“Well remembered Narcissa, although I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Malfoy was looking at his mother as if she had grown two heads and threw Hermione a look that clearly read ‘what the hell is going on’. She shook her head back, never expecting in the slightest that Professor Lupin and Mrs Malfoy had a history, definitely not one that involved remembering drink orders. Patrice had left them by now.

“I have to say I’m surprised to see you here Remus, although, considering we’re here to discuss my cousin I should have presumed you would have some involvement.”

“I assure you this was all Hermione’s doing.”

“Ah yes, Miss Granger, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. From what I have heard you are quite the formidable witch.” Mrs Malfoy commented, giving Hermione a genuine smile, “I hear quite often about the ‘muggleborn witch’ who bests my Draco in all of his classes.” Malfoy was looking at his mother like she’d just read his diary out to the class, and Hermione couldn’t help but be amused at the idea that she riled him up so much at school that she had become dinner table conversation at Malfoy Manor.

“It’s lovely to meet you Mrs Malfoy, please call me Hermione. Draco gives me a run for my money as well, especially in potions, he definitely has the edge on me in that class.”

Hermione enjoyed seeing the shock ripple over Malfoy’s face as he took in that she had paid him a compliment, he looked like he was about to speak when Patrice returned with the drinks. Once the wine was placed on the table, Professor Lupin took over, pouring for Mrs Malfoy, Malfoy and Hermione and topping up the teenagers drinks up with the sparkling water to dilute the alcohol. The manner in which he did so felt so juxtaposed to how he was dressed and she could see that Malfoy was thinking the same thing. Mrs Malfoy seemed to be nodding in approval as their Professor took his seat again, casting a muffliato over the table now that Patrice had left the courtyard.

“Well, then I must insist on you calling me Narcissa,” winked Mrs Malfoy, continuing the conversation and taking a sip of her wine. “Now, shall we start. I find in most situations it is best to start at the beginning.” She turned her attention to Professor Lupin.

“I think, in this instance, Hermione is best placed to fill you in on the events of this year.”

All eyes turned to Hermione and she took a deep breath and began talking, “It all started when the Weasley family won the Galleon Draw and took their trip to Egypt…”. And so, Hermione gave Narcissa a full break down of the events of her third year. Narcissa was a captive and engaged audience, asking pertinent questions, expressing concern for Hermione and her friends and even going so far as to double check that Hermione hadn’t overdone herself in her use of the time turner to attend her classes. It was only when Hermione began recanting the events of the full moon that she went quiet, her face set as she rubbed the bottom of her wine glass pensively.

“…And so, Sirius is innocent, Pettigrew’s confession was witnessed by 3 teenagers and an adult, but somehow Sirius finds himself currently on the run. I would like to clear his name.” Hermione finished.

Narcissa still sat in silence. Hermione made to continue to explain the concerns she, Theo and Lupin had come to regarding Dumbledore’s involvement, but Lupin stopped her by placing a hand on her arm. The group sat quietly for a moment longer before Narcissa began to speak.

“I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear that Sirius is innocent.” She sounded choked up, “We… I… it never made sense that he would have turned to the Dark Lord’s side. Ever since he ran away and the Potter’s took him in, thank Merlin, he was like a brother to James. It never made sense.” Her deep blue eyes were glistening with tears and Malfoy reached inside his blazer pocket to provide her with a handkerchief. She took it with a sad smile. “He was such a gentle boy. I knew he couldn’t have done it.”

Once she had collected herself Hermione tried to continue again but Narcissa held her hand up before she could begin.

“I believe the rest of the information you wish to tell me appertains to the fact that not once, but twice, Dumbledore appears to have allowed my cousin, the Head of the Noble House of Black, to be falsely imprisoned for murder without taking action to prove his innocence. I am to assume that Dumbledore knew that Sirius had swapped as secret keeper for the Potters?” Hermione nodded in reply.

“And I believe I am to further understand that Mister Potter, heir to the House of Potter, was placed with a magic hating muggle family? Growing up with no knowledge of magic and being abused within their care? That Dumbledore either didn’t check on his wellbeing, or did and didn’t extract the boy?” At this Hermione began playing with the napkin on the table in front of her. She hadn’t actually considered that Dumbledore probably would have been keeping an eye on Harry during his childhood. “That Dumbledore, the headmaster of a school and with no familial link to Mister Potter, made the decisions as to his guardianship rather than the Ministry?” Another point Hermione hadn’t considered. Of course, there must be a department dealing with social care within the Ministry, how hadn’t she thought of that? It was another stab to her heart realising that, again, Harry could have had a different upbringing.

“Remus, do you have anything to add?” Narcissa’s tone was sharp and to the point.

Professor Lupin looked tired and far away, pulled back into the memories of the worst period of his life. He coughed gently before making direct eye contact with Narcissa.

“He didn’t contact me Cissa. He’d sent me away on a mission to Scotland to try and recruit a remote pack of werewolves to the Order. I couldn’t contact the Order, that was the rule, but he knew how to contact me, and he didn’t. Everyone knew that if anything happened to Sirius, I was next up to take care of Harry. It was three weeks before he reached out. The war was over for three weeks before I heard from him.” Her Professors voice was raw, “Three weeks I didn’t know that my friends were dead, my partner was imprisoned, and that the child I was meant to be caring for had been placed in the care of people who would make his childhood a misery. By the time I was informed, Dumbledore had settled everything, Harry was with his Aunt and Uncle and he refused to tell me where.”

Narcissa briefly placed her hand on top of his before sitting back and clasping her hands in front of her on the table.

“If no one has any objections, I am going to call my husband now. He has the connections to allow us to speak to the Minister directly. I believe we can have this all settled by the end of the night.”

The end of the night. Hermione couldn’t believe it. It was more than she had ever expected. She found herself reaching for her Professor’s hand on the table beside her. He gave her knuckles a quick rub and her hand a squeeze before releasing it, giving her a quiet thank you. Narcissa watched the interaction with a slight frown on her lips before summoning her patronus, a large swan. It hovered in front of her as she sent her message. “Send this to Lucius Malfoy. ‘My darling, you are required at the Copper Cauldron on a matter of quite urgent family business. You will find us in the courtyard. The stars are gathering.”

Hermione almost choked on her drink as the swan disappeared into the night.

“Hermione, are you alright?” Lupin was patting her back to help her clear her airways again.

“I’m fine, it just…” she looked up at Narcissa, “…that’s almost the same as what I put in my last message to Sirius.” She chuckled. “I couldn’t say anything specific obviously, but I added a note to one of Harry’s letters to say ‘Black is the night until the stars gather.’ It was just a random phrase that popped into my head, but I hoped that he would understand that I had something planned. Something planned… involving you.” Lupin was looking at her now incredulously and Narcissa was trying but failing to keep a bemused look off her face. Unable to keep her face passive she dabbed her lips with her napkin before rising from the table, making a motion for Lupin to follow her. They made their way to a corner of the courtyard to speak further, casting a silencing spell around themselves to prevent Hermione and Malfoy from listening to their discussion. Hermione and Malfoy sat in an uncomfortable silence.

“Well, your plan appears to be working,” Malfoy drawled, playing with the signet ring on his little finger.

“Yes, it would seem so.” Hermione replied delicately, picking up the paper napkin in front of her and beginning to fold it just like she used to when she was bored at one of her parent’s dinner parties. Malfoy studied her for a second before picking up his own napkin and proceeding to copy what she was doing. Hermione glanced up quickly, noticing him mimicking the folds she was making, before continuing without comment. No point poking a bear, she thought to herself.

“Do you have summer plans?”

“Summer plans? Are you seriously asking me about my summer plans Granger?” Malfoy scoffed.

“Well, yes. Unless you’d rather sit awkwardly without speaking?”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t prefer the silence to making small talk with you?”

“Merlin, forget I asked. I was just trying to be polite.”

Hermione ran her finger aggressively across the diagonal fold she had just made.

Even without looking she could hear Malfoy making the same assault on his own napkin. They settled into the quite of the courtyard again.

“I’ll be spending the summer at our house in France. Theo, Pansy and Blaise will come out for a couple of weeks.”

“Oh? Where in France is your house?” Hermione put emphasis on the word house, knowing for a fact it would more likely be a stately home or chateau. “I spend a month every summer with my Grandmere who lives near Limoges.”

Malfoy stilled for a second, “Our house isn’t far from Limoges.”

It unsettled Hermione to find that the Malfoy’s apparently regularly frequented an area she had been visiting since she was a child. She continued focussing on creasing the napkin in front of her. “That’s a coincidence… It’s a nice area.”

“Hm… They keep looking at you.” Malfoy commented, making a subtle gesture towards his mother and Professor Lupin. Hermione had noticed it as well, but she hadn’t presumed the glances were specific to her.

“I’ve never seen her get upset like that before,” Malfoy said quietly. Hermione was about to reply when the doors to the courtyard swung open and Lucius Malfoy strode into the yard, cane and all. His moonlight blonde hair was tied back in a low ponytail by a black velvet ribbon and his robes, despite being plain black, screamed affluence. Malfoy jumped to his feet and Hermione also stood taking his lead. Narcissa floated across the cobbles to place a light kiss on his cheek.

“I was called?”

Chapter Text

“Quite the unusual company you are keeping here Cissa,” Mr Malfoy silver eyes were flicking between Hermione, his son and Professor Lupin, who had made his way back to the table. Conjuring an extra chair, the Head of the Malfoy family sat himself down. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation as to why my wife and son are taking drinks with a muggleborn and a werewolf.” His tone wasn’t malicious as such, but there wasn’t any of the friendliness that Narcissa had greeted them with.

“It’s quite the tale I assure you. Hermione dear, I hope you don’t mind if I bring my husband up to speed? I believe I have all of the facts of the matter now, but please let me know if I leave anything out.”

“Of course, Narcissa,” Hermione clocked Mr Malfoy flinch slightly at her use of his wife’s first name.

For the second time that afternoon the tale of Sirius Black’s innocence was laid out in the courtyard. By the time Narcissa had finished she had become choked up again, her voice breaking slightly as she finished her retelling with a simple request, “Darling, will you help free my cousin?”.

Mr Malfoy took her hand, raised it to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Taking his wand out of his cane (a pretentious way of storing a wand Hermione thought), he summoned his own patronus, a dragon, equally pretentious. “Send this to Cornelius Fudge. ‘Minister Fudge, I require an urgent meeting with yourself and the head of the DMLE. I will expect to see you both at the Ministry in 20 minutes.’”

Turning to Hermione, he levelled her with a piercing stare. “Miss Granger, you will need to attend the Ministry with me in order to provide your memory of events. Lupin, you will apparate to the Weasley residence to ask the younger Weasley boy to attend as well, so he can provide a second account of the night. Is this acceptable to you both? I’m sure Lupin can contact your parents if they require an update as to your plans?”

The fact that Mr Malfoy had considered her parents took Hermione by surprise. “Thank you, Lord Malfoy. My parents aren’t expecting me back until later. I didn’t know how this afternoon would go, but I was hopeful; I accounted for additional time just in case.”

“Quite. Narcissa, it would be best if yourself and Draco were also in attendance at the Ministry, but first I believe we need to approach your sister. This will work better if the Black and Malfoy families are united. I also understand that your niece is an Auror, which might be useful.”

Narcissa’s brow was furrowed and she was twisting her hands together.

“I don’t believe she will take kindly to seeing me.”

“It’s up to you Cissa, it would help our case, but I won’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No, I’ll go. Sirius will need us all when he returns back to society and I’m sure he’ll take kindlier to our involvement if Meda is involved as well.”

 “I agree.” Lupin added, “I can join you in visiting the Tonks’ if that would help? I’m familiar with both Ted and Andromeda.”

“No, thank you, I believe this reunion should be a family only affair,” Narcissa sighed.

The matter settled, they readied themselves to leave to their respective locations. Hermione hesitantly walked over to Lord Malfoy to join him in apparating to the Ministry. She really hoped she would manage the side-along apparition better her second time. She took a quick look back at the table, noticing that the origami swan she had made had disappeared. She felt the tug of apparition and they were gone.

Lupin apparated outside of the Burrow’s wards, surprised that the Weasley’s still maintained war time protections that meant he couldn’t see the residence. He pressed his hand to the boundary, feeling the ripple of magic pushing him back and waited until he could pick up the sound of footsteps approaching, his heightened hearing breaching the wards. He could tell that whoever had come out they weren’t alone,

“Homenum Revelio”, he heard a voice mutter in the distance. It sounded like one of the twins.

“Arthur, it’s Remus Lupin.” He spoke loudly and clearly, “The last time we spoke was in the Hogshead, August 1981, when you were celebrating the birth of Ginny.”

He felt a shudder as he was given access to the wards, revealing the curiously extended house, Arthur and the two twins stood in front of him.

“Remus, it’s been a while my friend!” Arthur moved to shake Remus’ hand.

“It’s good to see you Arthur. How’s Molly?”

“Wonderful, wonderful. Fussing around in the kitchen as usual.”

“Driving us mad is what she’s doing,” offered one of the twins.

“Fussing over dear old Ronnikins with his poorly leg,” added the other.

“Fred. George. Keeping out of mischief I hope?”

“We can’t promise anything.” The boys replied in unison.

Lupin chuckled, he had a soft spot for the twins, knowing that, had they been in school at the same time as him, they would have no doubt been formidable Marauders.

“Arthur, could I speak with yourself, Molly and Ron? I’m hoping that Ron can help me with something.”

“Of course, of course, come in, come in!” Arthur led them into the house. The kitchen was as he remembered it during the first war, homely, chaotic and smelling of home cooked meals. Molly was monitoring a pan on the stove while patching up a school sweater. Looking up as they entered the room she gasped and stood to give Remus a hug.

“Remus! What a surprise! Can I get you something to eat? You’re looking far too skinny dear.”

“No thank you Molly, I’m afraid I can’t be staying long. I’m hoping to speak to Ron.”

“Ron? Is this to do with school? What has he done now? RON!” she bellowed up the stairs.

“Boys, go and get your brother.” Arthur asked and the twins bound their way out of the room and up the stairs. “Please sit Remus.”

Taking a seat on the bench at the wooden kitchen table he could hear movement and the sound of someone making their way down the stairs.

“Whatever the twin’s told you, I didn’t do it.” Ron protested as he turned the corner into the kitchen, “Oh, hi Professor.” Ron’s face changed into one of confusion and wariness. Lupin wondered if the boy wasn’t quite as comfortable with his condition as Hermione and Harry seemed to be.

“Hello Ron, how’s the leg?”

“Oh um, yeah it’s fine. Madam Promfrey fixed me up in no time.”

“I’m glad. I’ll cut to the chase, I was hoping that, with your parents’ permission, you would accompany me to the Ministry in order to provide your memories of the events of the full moon. We’re hoping to clear Sirius Black’s name.”

“Oh yeah, sure, of course I’ll come.” Ron replied quickly.

“Sirius Black? The criminal?” Molly was wide eyed.

“As I’m sure Ron has explained, he was falsely accused of the murder of those muggles and for betraying James and Lily. Peter Pettigrew staged the entire affair and revealed himself in front of your son, Harry and Hermione. I’m hopeful that with your son’s testimony, along with Miss Granger’s, we will be able to overturn his conviction so he can be pardoned.”

“A terrible affair. Terrible.” Arthur was shaking his head. “Of course, if Dumbledore wants Ron to help we’re more than happy for him to join you.”

Lupin frowned,

“Dumbledore isn’t currently involved at present. This idea is all Miss Granger’s doing.”

“What a bright witch that girl is. Especially considering she’s muggleborn.” Lupin didn’t appreciate that qualification Arthur gave his compliment of Hermione.

“Should we contact Dumbledore? I’m sure he would like to be made aware.” Molly’s eyes flitted to her husband.

“I have been asked that he not be involved as yet. This involving Black family politics, it’s a delicate matter.”

Molly didn’t appear to like that. “I don’t know Remus, obviously I wish Sirius well, especially if what you say about Peter is true, but this feels like something we should discuss with Dumbledore first. Who is the ‘we’ you have mentioned, obviously Hermione is involved?”

“If I may Molly, the freedom of an innocent man is not something that Dumbledore needs to sign off on. We are not at war and this is not Order related. I have approached the Malfoy’s as Sirius’ relatives to assist.” He left out that it was Hermione who had first approached the family. Molly’s reactions so far hadn’t been encouraging and he had a feeling that she would be even more hostile to find that the Hermione had reached out to pureblood elite.

“The Order?” Ron piped up.

“The Malfoy’s?” Molly all but shrieked.

“Of course, Remus, of course.” Arthur blustered, trying to calm the tension in the room while ignoring Ron. “When would you like Ron to attend? I’m sure I can bring him with me to work on Monday.”

“We have an appointment to meet the Minister tonight. In..” he took a quick look at his pocket watch, “approximately 15 minutes. I do apologise for the last-minute request, but the timeline of our plan was moved up substantially.”

“I can go right?” Ron looked at both of his parents.

“How do you know the Malfoy’s don’t have their own agenda for Sirius’ release? I really think Dumbledore would like to be informed of this.” Molly was shaking her head.

“I am happy that the Malfoy’s involvement is purely stemmed from Narcissa’s concerned for her cousin and I would hope that you can trust me in this matter. I wouldn’t be involved without being confident that it was the right thing to do,” Molly and Arthur shared a look before Arthur nodded. “Regardless of whether the Malfoy’s have their own reasons for Sirius’ release, I know him and you used to, he wouldn’t be swayed into whatever thing it is that you seem concerned the price of their involvement would entail. I would also ask that you don’t contact Dumbledore until this is all settled. As I say, this is a Black family affair.”

Molly threw her hands up exasperatedly.

“As you wish Remus. Ron are you ready to go?” Arthur turned to his son.

“Do I need anything?” Ron asked his teacher.

“Just your wand for identification purposes.” Ron pulled his wand out of his back pocket, Lupin rolled his eyes at its placement. He made a note to himself that, should he ever go back into teaching, he’d drill into his students the importance of storing wands on your person correctly.

“You can use our floo.” Arthur led them to the fireplace, pointing out the bag of floo powder on the mantlepiece.

“I’m very grateful.” Lupin shook Arthur’s hand and turned to say goodbye to Molly, but she was busying herself at the kitchen sink with her back to them. Apparently, Molly was more significantly more loyal to Dumbledore than Remus had realised. “It was great to see you both. Molly, Arthur.”

Draco watched with curiosity as his father placed his hand on Granger’s shoulder before apparating them away. His mother and the defence Professor’s apparent history had started off the entire encounter by throwing him for a loop, throw into the mix his mother’s public display of emotion over a cousin Draco knew had been blasted off the Black family tapestry, and now his father willingly escorting a muggleborn to the ministry and Draco’s mind was all over the place. Now he was going meet his estranged Aunt for the first time. Professor Lupin apparated away next, leaving him alone with his mother.

“Thank you for being here today,” she said stroking his face. Despite the information overload that she’d been landed with in the last hour, Draco noted that she looked calmer than he had seen her in ages, despite her eyes still glistening with emotion.

“Are you ready to go? I’ll give you fair warning, we may not receive a warm welcome and I would appreciate you letting me and Andromeda sort things out without trying to intervene, no matter what gets said or happens.”

“What do you anticipate happening?” Draco hadn’t been concerned about the trip until now.

“Oh, nothing my dragon. But we are Black’s after all. It’s never harmful to be prepared.” She huffed lightly in amusement, which went some way to settle the nerves that had begun to build in Draco’s stomach. He reached his hands into his pockets, finding the paper remnants of the weird folded paper Granger had been practicing at the table. He didn’t know why he’d pocketed the stupid creations but something about touching them in his pocket now felt soothing. Granger’s creation had looked like a bird of some type by the time she had finished. He had been quite proud of his own handiwork; however, he had decided that his looked more like a dragon, despite the fact he had tried to imitate Granger’s movements exactly.

“Ready?” His mother offered her hand and he removed his own from his pockets, ready to apparate away.

They arrived at the end of a narrow lane lined by a low stone wall and trees on either side. It was now nearing 6 o’clock and in the early evening light the sun was cutting its way between the branches, dappling the floor with shadows. Draco thought it reminded him of something from that book about Hobbits Theo had lent him earlier in the year. His mother began walking down the lane, head held high and standing tall. Draco could tell she was putting on an act, but he took comfort in it anyway. When they reached the end of the lane, she stopped, holding her hand out to apparently test the edge of some wards. Casting her patronus she sent a hurried message that crossed the ward boundary, disappearing from view as the warding spells took effect. Draco didn’t catch the missive that his mother sent but he was sure he heard something akin to that weird phrase Granger had used earlier. He was going to have to remember to ask his parents about that at a later date. Draco stood beside his mother, gently taking her hand when he noticed her nervously picking at her nails. It wasn’t a habit he’d seen her do often, but he knew it never boded well. It only took a few seconds before the wards shimmered and a witch with long black curly hair and a striking resemblance to his mother appeared no more than 2 metres in front of them. To her side was a shorter witch, probably 5 years older than Draco, with a cropped black pixie cut. She didn’t have her wand drawn but she was holding a defensive stance. This must be the Auror, Draco thought to himself.

Neither sister spoke for a long time. They just stared at each other intently as if having a silent conversation with their eyes. Draco kept expecting the silence to break. More than a couple of times he found himself flinching at the sudden the sound of the crows piercing the evening air in the trees behind him. He had been making a point of not looking at either his Aunt or cousin, but when the silence stretched on even longer and his mother still hadn’t broken eye contact with his Aunt he surveyed his surroundings, briefly catching his cousin’s eye as he did so. She looked at him with fascination, before flicking her eyes to her mother and back to Draco and rolling her eyes. Had the day not been so bizarre already he probably would have scowled at her for her brazen disregard for the situation, but he was growing tired and this position was just getting odder the longer his mother and Aunt kept up the weird staring competition. He smirked back at his cousin, giving her a discreet eye roll back in reply, causing her to grin from ear to ear before her hair changed from black to his own platinum blonde. He let out a scoff in amazement and she giggled before changing it back and throwing a wink his way.

“Well, now we know the children get along, shall we go inside?” his Aunt spoke first, her voice cutting through the still night air. Both Draco and his cousin looked at her in confusion.

“Quite, it’s been a long day.” Narcissa stepped forward, taking a place alongside her sister and walking with her towards the house that had now become visible behind her. It was a substantial country cottage; stone built, homely and warm with a large vegetable patch visible to the side. Surrounded by countryside Draco wondered where exactly they were, the weather wasn’t so different to how it had been in London so maybe they were close by. He made to follow his mother but was cut off by the short Auror witch.

“I’m Tonks, pleasure to meet you cuz.” She held out her hand.

“Um, I’m Draco. Nice to meet you too… Cool trick with the hair.”

“Thanks! Comes super handy for work.” They both began making their way along the driveway. “Do you know what that whole…” she pulled a bug-eyed look, “…thing was all about?”

Draco sniffed, he didn’t appreciate his mother being joked about, but even he could acknowledge that nearing 5 minutes of prolonged silence and intense glares was a bit odd.

“Not a clue,” he shrugged.

She led him through the front door into an entrance hallway with a flagstone floor. The walls were littered with framed photos, some magical and some muggle. As he followed her into a reception room he spied an old-fashioned picture of three young girls, two dark haired and one blonde, all laughing as they sat on a swing in ornate gardens, while two dark haired boys tried to spin them around. They looked blissfully happy. On rounding the corner into the reception room, he found his mother and Aunt already sat side by side on a dark green velvet sofa, their bodies turned towards each other. They appeared to have entered into another staring contest.

“Might as well take a seat cuz, it looks like they’ll be at this for a while.” Tonks gestured to a squishy armchair as she flopped onto the remaining sofa in the room. He sat, sinking into the fabric. He knew his mother wouldn’t be impressed if he didn’t maintain some semblance of Malfoy decorum and struggled to right himself into a more refined position. His cousin on the other hand had kicked her legs over the arm of the sofa and was laid on her back looking at the ceiling.

“So, you’re in what, just finished fourth year?” she asked, spinning her wand between her fingers.

“Third. I’ll start fourth year in September.”  

“Oh cool, you look older.”

Draco instinctively puffed out his chest slightly, appreciating the idea that he looked old for his age.

“You definitely look like a Malfoy. But with your mum and dad’s hair colouring you weren’t really going to miss that gene,” she continued, “I always wonder what my natural hair colour would be if I couldn’t do the, you know, shifting thing.” She mused and Draco watched as she changed her hair to the different colours of the rainbow before settling on black again.

“You seem to like black."

“Ha, yeah I guess. Matches with Mum and the familial blood.”  She went back to spinning her wand around above her head. “Know what this is about? Not that I don’t appreciate meeting a long-lost cousin…”

Draco shot a look towards his mother, trying to gauge whether or not he was allowed to divulge their reason for being there. She was still looking intently at her sister. Every so often one or the other would shift their head slightly, but their expressions remained glazed and impassive. Deciding that his cousin would probably find out anyway, he began to explain,

“Well, long story short, it turns out that Sirius Black, most notorious murderer, isn’t actually a murderer and has been innocent all along. So, my parents, Granger and Professor Lupin have decided it’s imperative to get the Black and Malfoy families together to clear his name.”

Tonk’s swung her legs round and sat herself upright on the sofa to look at Draco.

“Pooweee, that’s a mindfuck. I’ve been trying to track the guy for months! How’d you know he’s innocent? Who are ‘Granger’ and ‘Professor Lupin’? Hang on, should you be telling me this?”

Draco frowned, “I figure it’ll all come out when we meet with the Minister later. That’s the plan anyway. It’s a relatively long story that I’ve already heard too many times. But it seems pretty cut and dry. Granger is a girl in my year and Lupin was, until recently, my Defence Professor. It appears he was Sirius’ friend.”

“Mum always said he was innocent. She’s hated that I’ve been on the detail meant to track him down. Technically, I shouldn’t, because of the family conflict of interest, but the department’s been stretched since his escape. Man…” she rubbed scratched her head with the tip of her wand. “This’ll make her so happy if it’s true.” She said gesturing towards her mother.

Draco looked at the two women, remembering the picture in the hall and the light in everyone’s eyes. He could only presume it was his mother, her two sisters and the Black brothers in the photo. “Yeah, I think it’ll make them both happy.”

The two sister’s suddenly clasped hands together before pulling each other into a tight embrace. It was not at all the type of behaviour he was used to seeing his mother exhibit in company. His Aunt stood, making her way to where Draco was sitting before lowering herself into a crouch in front of him.

“Draco, I am so happy to finally meet you. It seems silly to say, but I’m Andromeda, you can call me Meda though. Thank you for being there for my sister. You are a wonderful child and I’m so proud of who you’ve become. I would very much like to be your Aunt now and give you a hug.” She held out her arms in welcome. Draco wasn’t quite sure how she could know that he was a ‘wonderful child’ or be proud of anything considering that she’d never met him, and he quickly looked to his mother to find that she was already stood and embracing Tonks. Draco turned back to his Aunt, blushing slightly, this was all far more touchy feely than he was used to. Noticing his hesitancy, Andromeda simply placed her hands on the tops of both of his arms and gave him a quick kiss on his forehead before standing.

“Cissa, I believe we should be going. Dora, will you please accompany us? We have an appointment with the Minister.”

Tonks was rubbing her eyes to clear her face of tears and her hair had shifted to Malfoy blonde again.

“Of course,” she coughed.

Draco made his way over to his mother, who took his hand tightly. It was wet having just attempted to dispel her own tears and Draco felt her shudder slightly as she held back what he was sure would have been a sob. Trying to lighten the tension in the room he turned to his cousin, “So… Dora?”

“Nymphadora.” Her eyes narrowed and she threw a pouting face at her mother. “Someone thought it would be fun to call a child that nightmare of a name. Family call me Dora, my friends call me Tonks. Pick a lane.” Laughing again, she took her mother’s hand. Draco knew she was old enough to apparate on her own, but the look of relief that covered his Aunt’s face as she did so told him she hadn’t done it for any reason apart from to provide support for her mother. He appreciated that.

“See you at the ministry… Dora.” He smiled, giving her a quick wink. Family was family. If this evening was proving anything it was that blood was far thicker than water.

Chapter Text

Hermione and Lord Malfoy apparated straight into the foyer of the Ministry. Hermione was surprised. She had read about the protective enchantments that had been put in place to protect the Ministry from being discovered both by muggles and by hostile wizards; entry was meant to be severely restricted, by floo or standardised worker entry only. Apparation directly into the building was rare. She squashed down her burning desire to ask Lord Malfoy questions.

Within moments of their arrival they were greeted by an extremely flustered wizard. He was scrawny and wearing smart, dark green wizarding robes bearing the badge of the Ministry on the lapel.

“Good evening Lord Malfoy, the Minister received your message and requested I escort you to his office. I hope all is well?”

“Yes, thank you Loxley.”

“Before we proceed, I will need to do an identification check on your acquaintance,” the man said with hesitancy. He was clearly looking for permission to proceed. Before Lord Malfoy could reply, Hermione held out her wand,

“My name is Hermione Granger, muggleborn, my wand is 10 ¾ inch, vinewood with a dragon heartstring core.” She noticed Lord Malfoy raise an eyebrow briefly, whether at the composition of her wand or the fact she was quite happy to follow the Ministry’s procedural checks, she wasn’t sure.

“Thank you, Miss Granger.” Loxley took her wand before performing a series of spells she decided she’d like to research later and then handed it back to her. “Please, follow me.”

The journey through the Ministry was eerie and uncomfortable. Mr Malfoy didn’t speak beyond saying thank you to their escort for his services, and the halls of the building were primarily empty of other inhabitants. As they made their way through the maze of corridors and lifts Hermione decided she didn’t very much like the design of Ministry, with its hard, black marble flooring and early 20th century infrastructure; it looked how she imagined the Slytherin common rooms to be, cold and uninviting.

Once they arrived at the Minister’s office Loxley left them outside the door in order to inform Minister Fudge of their arrival.

“I understand that you are invested in this situation for the sake of Mister Potter and Lord Black, but I would ask that you leave the talking to me once everyone has arrived Miss Granger.” Lord Malfoy had turned to her.

“I am more than happy to take your lead Lord Malfoy,” she deferred. She had confidence in her own abilities to put Sirius’ case forward but understood that Lord Malfoy would be best placed to address the Minister in this instance. He seemed surprised at her use of his formal title, but simply nodded in recognition.

Loxley returned moments later, leading them through into the Minister’s office. It was as stark as the rest of the building, save for some rosettes and awards strategically placed on various surfaces.

“Minister Fudge, I am very grateful to you for meeting us this evening at such short notice.”

“Yes, yes. Curious business I must admit... and to find you here with Miss Granger of all people.” It was a reasonable query. Hermione blinked for a second at being addressed by name by Fudge, before realising he remembered her from the night of the full moon. She had hopes to enter the Ministry at some point in her career but hadn’t quite anticipated her name being at the forefront of the Minister’s lips already. It didn’t quite give her the satisfaction it should have, given the circumstances of their first meeting.

“I would like to wait for our other attendees before I get into the crux of the matter.”

As Mr Malfoy spoke the door to the office opened and Loxley gestured in a woman with long auburn hair, and a tall, extravagantly dressed wizard.

“Ms Bones, Kingsley, thank you for joining us at short notice. You know Mr Malfoy?” The gentleman shook Mr Malfoy’s hand, “and this is Miss Granger.”

“A pleasure to meet you both. My name is Amelia Bones, acting head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement. This is Head Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt. I believe you are at school with my niece, Susan.” Hermione nodded, shaking the witch’s hand. Although her face was stern Hermione could see a softness in her eyes that reminded her of Susan.

“How many others are we waiting on?” Fudge asked, he looked slightly dishevelled and it was clear that he hoped this would be a short meeting.

Lord Malfoy replied for them both, “We should be receiving in attendance, my wife, son, sister-in-law Andromeda Tonks and her daughter Nymphadora Tonks, as well as Remus Lupin and Ronald Weasley.”

Kingsley’s face did not hide his surprise at the list of names and his eyes darted to Ms Bones’, no doubt trying to do the maths to figure out what linked the various witches and wizards, including one of his own Aurors. Whatever conclusion he did or did not come to, he kept quiet, taking a seat in the corner of the room.

Narcissa and her entourage arrived next, escorted by Loxley. Narcissa greeted her husband with a gentle kiss before standing to his side. Her sister, Hermione gauged by her distinct likeness to Narcissa, gave Lord Malfoy a brief kiss on the cheek before taking a position on his other side. Her daughter headed straight to Kingsley, greeting him with a cheery hello that had him looking both exasperated and amused, before she also went to stand alongside her mother. Draco entered last, shaking his father’s hand and going to take his place alongside his mother. Hermione suddenly felt remarkably out of place witnessing the congregation of family members grouping together. As if listening in to her thoughts, Narcissa spoke,

“Hermione dear, please come near me and tell me a bit about your family while we wait.”

Fudge, Amelia Bones, Kingsley, Andromeda and Nymphadora all looked stunned by the address and Hermione tried hard not to portray any shock herself as she made her way to stand beside the blonde witch. Lord Malfoy was stoically looking on and Malfoy was doing a remarkably good job of reading, and re-reading, a plaque on the wall of the office.

“Tell me, what do your parents do?” Narcissa continued, gently shifting a curl of hair from Hermione’s face that had fallen out of her bun.

“They’re both muggle dentists. They own a practice that specialises in the healing of teeth.” She felt stupid boiling down her parent’s job to something so simple.

“That must be quite a feat, to own their own business.”

“Yes… They’re hoping to retire soon and move to our family home in France. I know if I wasn’t still in school they’d have gone by now.” She sighed. She was very much aware that the requirement for her being in England had put a stall on any plans to move abroad. She had floated the idea of Beauxbaton’s past her parents when they had first mentioned their plans to retire, but she knew they could tell that she had suggested it so half-heartedly that it had never been a serious option.

“Oh, you have a family home in France. How wonderful. We go to our summer home every year.”

“Draco mentioned. It appears we both frequent the same area.” Draco had stilled at Granger’s use of his first name. It still felt jarring to use.

“How intriguing,” Narcissa grew quiet and the room stilled for a moment or two.

When Professor Lupin and Ronald arrived however the energy in the room picked up noticeably.

“Merlin ‘Mione, what the bloody hell is going on?” Ron demanded as soon as he entered the room to find her stood surrounded by the current Malfoy and Black family. “Why are you here with them?!”

“Ron, what did we talk about?” Professor Lupin chastised.

“I’ll explain it all..” Hermione began before Lord Malfoy cut her off.

“Thank you for your attendance Mr Weasley, it is… greatly appreciated.” He appeared to struggle over the last couple of words. Turning to Minister Fudge he continued, “I will cut to the chase Minister. We are here to provide evidence to support the clearing of Sirius Black’s name and his return to his rightful position as Lord Black, head of the Noble House of Black.”

The next hour was excruciating as the story was laid out, again, for the Minister, Ms Bones and Kingsley. All three listened intently and were quick to concede that the arrest and imprisonment of Sirius had been done without due process. Amelia Bones was extremely shocked at the lack of investigation that had taken before he had been placed in Azkaban indefinitely. That was a quick win.

Both herself and Ron were then taken away separately to have their memories extracted. The entire process was extremely easy in the scheme of things, Shacklebolt, Ms Bones and Nymphadora being the Aurors present while the extraction took place. It was the oddest feeling to feel the magic ripple through her brain as a copy of the events of that night were taken from her. Lupin was also questioned separately, though she imagined that whatever was happening behind closed doors was likely not as simple as her ‘interrogation’ had been.

Both herself and Ron were returned to the Minister’s office to wait alongside the Malfoy-Black family as their memories were viewed by the Minister, Ms Bones and Kingsley.

“So, this is why you were so weird at the end of school?” Ron hissed.

“I wasn’t weird,” she snapped. It was a childish retort that she regretted when Narcissa caught her eye and she composed herself again, “I just had a lot going on. I figured I could do something to alleviate Harry’s suffering, while also assisting Sirius.”

“How did you even get this,” he gestured to the group gathered in the room, “to happen?”

Hermione didn’t see that there was any point in lying, “I approached Theodore Nott seeing as we worked together on that Ancient Runes project and asked him if he would arrange for me to meet with Malfoy… Draco,” she added, noticing both Malfoy parents react differently to her use of their surname to address their son, she proceeded, “Draco then wrote to his mother, who agreed to meet me today. I asked Professor Lupin to attend as both someone who was there that night and as a magical guardian, in lieu of having my parents, and essentially that’s where we are at. Lord Malfoy joined at the request of Narcissa, and Mrs Tonks and Ms Tonks are here at their joint request.”

Ron was wide eyed and agitated, he grabbed Hermione’s arm and dragged her away from the sofa and into the corner of the room.

“Do you know who these people are Hermione? What you’ve got involved with? I get that you think you’re doing a good thing right now and I want Harry to be happy as much as you do, but this is messed up. Why didn’t you come to Mum and Dad?” He was still clutching her arm and it was beginning to hurt.

“I was going to, but I knew that having the Malfoy and Black family behind Sirius would be the most influential thing! It was purely strategic. Also, they are his family. I didn’t tell you because I knew you would react badly, evidently, I wanted to wait until I knew there was a chance it was actually going to work. Ron, please your hand is tight…”

“We would have helped, Dad has connections at the Ministry, we could have done this without them. Why didn’t you go to Dumbledore?!” He was still gripping her hard. She tried to pull away, letting out a light gasp when his fingers proceeded to press into her forearm.

“Weasley, let her go.” The voice was commanding and it took her a moment to realise who it had come from. She looked past Ron’s face to see Malfoy stood directly behind him, his face stern and jaw set. Ron’s hand relaxed, but not out of respect for her, he spun and squared off to Malfoy.

“She’s my friend Malfoy, you don’t know what you’re on about.”

“I know that a witch just told you that you were hurting her, and you continued holding her against her will. Did your family not teach you any morals?” He drawled. His tone was nonchalant, but his stance was defensive. Ron’s hands balled into fists and Hermione moved to put herself between the two teenagers. As she did so she realised that Lupin had moved to position himself at Draco’s right flank and Narcissa was now stood to his left.

“Ronald Weasley, sit down. This is a good thing. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you beforehand, but like I said, I needed to know it would work.” Hermione was tired and didn’t have much patience for his complaining, especially given the bruise she was sure was forming on her arm from where he had grabbed her. Ron shot a look between them all before dropping into the seat behind him. Narcissa and Professor Lupin looked at each other before separating off to stand in independent areas of the office, leaving Hermione and Malfoy stood awkwardly close together for a moment. He nodded at her shortly, and then they too separated and found their own respective spaces.

When Minister Fudge, Amelia Bones and Kingsley returned to the office everyone found themselves standing, waiting for a conclusion to the evening’s events.

“I can confirm that, without the need for a Wizengamot session, although one will be held in due course for the sake of formalities, Lord Sirius Black will be cleared of all charges and pardoned. He will also be compensated for false imprisonment. He will receive public apologies from the Ministry and have all of his assets restored to his name, including his guardianship over Harry Potter - in light of his position as the boy’s godfather.”

Narcissa let out an audible cry and Andromeda moved swiftly to her side to embrace her. Lord Malfoy stood close by, ready to receive his wife when she was ready to depart from her sister. Nymphadora was grinning and looking at Hermione with a scary expression. Hermione judged that whatever she had seen in her memories had made an impression, because the Auror looked bursting to interact with her. Draco caught her eye. He didn’t look cheerful per se, but he looked grateful. Hermione thought it was probably the first time that he’d look at her seriously, without sneer or prejudice and she quickly squashed any feelings his piercing grey eyes appeared to be stirring up.

Professor Lupin had made his way over to her and encompassed her in a warm hug. He smelled of musk and old books and she found it overwhelmingly comforting. “Hermione, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for what you have done today. I owe you more than you can ever imagine."

“You owe me nothing Professor,” she whispered into his chest, caught up in the emotion of the moment.

“Remus. Hermione, call me Remus.”

It felt odd, but she tried it, “You owe me nothing… Remus,” she repeated and he held her a little tighter. He released her and asked the Minister what the next steps would be. It turned out it would involve Sirius turning himself in, a concept that didn’t impress any of the Black or Malfoy figureheads. Hermione noticed Ron glancing at the clock nervously. Remus, Andromeda, Narcissa and Mr Malfoy were deep in conversation and Ron continued to keep twitching. Tonks was speaking to Kingsley and Draco was apparently in a world of his own staring at his hands. Hermione knew that Ron needed to get out of there. Not only because he was clearly nervous about the time, but since his arrival everyone had been on edge. Argumentative teenager? Ron fit the bill. Please, someone, get him out of here, she thought, willing herself to do something to convince the boy to leave. Instead she found Narcissa and Lupin staring at her and then at Ron.

“Ron, I think it’s probably about time that I get you home.” Remus spoke, clearing his throat slightly. “Your Mum and Dad will be expecting you and I don’t think I cleared it with them that you’d be out this long.”

“Ugh yeah, sure. I kinda wanted to see Sirius though?”

“I’m sure you’ll see him soon enough. Knowing him like I do, it won’t be long before you’re sick of him.

“Yeah?” Ron looked heartened by the idea of meeting Sirius properly, “Cool. Yeah, I guess I’ll see you ‘Mione?”

“Of course, see you soon. I’ll write.” She gave him a quick hug. Not lingering like she might have hoped for earlier in the year.

With that, Lupin and Ron disappeared through the fireplace in the Minister’s office before Lupin returned solo.

Narcissa and Andromeda turned immediately to Hermione.

“Are you okay my dear?” Andromeda asked. It was the first interaction Hermione had had with the witch and she was thrown.

“Okay with what?”

“The way that boy touched you.” Narcissa followed up, taking her arm and rubbing it gently.

“Oh, yeah, he’s my friend. I hadn’t really noticed. It was nothing, he was just concerned.”

Both witches frowned and looked at one another. Minister Fudge began speaking.

“We need to contact Lord Black in order to pardon him fully. He will need to attend the Ministry. If that can be tonight, if he is amenable, that would be the ideal option, or we can arrange for another day.”

“This will happen tonight Minister.” Narcissa said firmly.

“Right, of course, well if you could contact him and request his presence. There would usually be a larger task force of Aurors in anticipation of his arrival.” Lord Malfoy went to interject but was stopped before he could begin, “but I ah, have requested this be dealt with by Shacklebolt himself. It’ll speed up the process and give you some form of clarification sooner. Would one of you be so kind as to send a message to Lord Black?”

Both Narcissa and Lupin made for their wands, both sending messages within seconds. Andromeda followed suit, her cat patronus disappearing moments after the swan and wolf.

They waited. It felt unbearable. Hermione was sat now playing with the skin around her thumbs, making a mental note to ask her mum to give her a manicure at some point soon. When, after another five minutes, the wards to the ministry weren’t alerted, Narcissa turned to her.

“Hermione, would you like to try and send a message to Sirius.” The witch, with her beautiful robes and perfect hair was knelt on the floor in front of Hermione.

“I don’t know how,” Hermione said pathetically.

“Oh, I think the brightest witch of her age can learn another spell.” Remus walked over, taking a seat at her side. “I know you understand the basics, because I was teaching Harry, and something tells me you wouldn’t have let it drop if he didn’t pass on what he knew.”

Hermione chuckled, her Professor definitely sussed down to a tee. She had bugged Harry for days to give her details on what casting the Patronus charm entailed and she’d been trying to do it herself in her bedroom when her roommates weren’t around. “I never got so far as a corporeal.” She muttered.

“What happy thought have you been thinking about?” Narcissa asked, sitting beside her and giving her knee a gentle rub.

“It was when Professor McGonagall arrived with my letter to tell me I was a witch. Everything in my life up until then suddenly made sense.” She didn’t notice Malfoy watching her intently.

“I imagine that’s a very good memory. I want you to focus though on a feeling. Something that fills you up with warmth. Something that you can’t keep from forming a smile on your face. Focus on that overwhelming heat of happiness.” Narcissa continued.

“I don’t know if I can remember anything like that,” Hermione muttered.

“It doesn’t need to be a memory, it could be the anticipation of an event or the knowledge of something that you didn’t even get to witness but gave you that same emotion.”

Hermione pondered for a while longer, before pulling forward a thought. It felt stupid and the idea of trying it in front of the Minister for Magic, the head of the DMLE, the Malfoy’s, and her defence Professor was downright ridiculous.

Closing her eyes, she took her wand and focussed hard, feeling the anticipation of warmth build in her chest. “Expecto Patronum.” Out of her wand shot a swan, like Narcissa’s but despite the bright light Narcissa’s omitted, it gave off a glimmer of grey. All members of the Black and Malfoy family looked stunned, Remus looked a confusing mix of surprised and joyful. Remembering the task at hand, he whispered to her, “Now, tell it where to go and send your message, but continue to focus your energy. You need to will it into finding the person you’re contacting.”

Copying what she’d seen people do earlier in the evening she spoke clearly, “Please send this to Sirius Black. Hi Sirius, um… it’s Hermione Granger. I helped you escape on Buckbeak. I’ve contacted your family to try and help free you. Please can you come to the Ministry as soon as possible…. Black is the night until the stars gather.” She focussed her mind and tried to force her energy into sending the Patronus to the right place. Whatever she had done worked because the swan disappeared from the room. Leaving the odd group of acquaintances in silence again.

“How do you know that Miss… Granger?” Lord Malfoy was looking at her with new eyes. Narcissa reached for his arm, it looked like she was trying to prevent the conversation from going further.

“The spell? Remus was teaching Harry…”

“No, the phrase.”

“Oh. I… don’t really know. It was just something I wrote in a letter to Sirius after we’d freed him. I wanted him to know that I wasn’t going to abandon him.”

“And… why are you so invested in his freedom?” Lord Malfoy continued, stepping forward into her space.

Hermione was suddenly feeling hot under the collar. Andromeda stepped in to diffuse the tension, “This is all very enlightening for everyone. Minister, might we call for some drinks?”

Fudge shuffled back into view, fussing around as he called for a house elf who proceeded to take their drinks orders. Taking a cue from Narcissa, Hermione ordered herself another elf wine spritz; she hadn’t really gotten to drink hers at the Copper Cauldron. The longer she stayed there though the more she hated the experience. The Malfoy and Black adults kept looking at her, and her Professor had also joined in the group as they stood off to the corner awaiting Sirius’ return.

“I’ve been alerted.” Kingsley jumped to his feet, his wand drawn. “Tonks, you’re coming with me.”

“As you wish guvnor’” She was already at the door and clearly itching with anticipation, amusement all over her face.

“We’ll have him back here in a couple of minutes. Having known the guy and, as I’m sure you don’t need reminding, I’m going to say, brace yourselves.” And with that remark Kingsley and Tonks left the room. It hadn’t crossed Hermione’s mind that Kingsley might have known Sirius, she wondered what the backstory there was. A question for another time.

Now they waited.

Chapter Text

“Where is she? Where’s Hermione?!” She could hear his shouts coming down the corridor and she made to open the door to the office. Before she could get there however it swung open and Kingsley entered leading a very dishevelled, very irate Sirius Black into the room. Nymphadora was following behind, beaming and looking at her relative in awe. Sirius transitioned into a dog, baring his teeth at the inhabitants of the room. Kingsley and Bones drew their wands on him, and Lord Malfoy moved to position himself, wand drawn, between the dog and his wife and son. Hermione however moved forward, making her way through the congregation of people surrounding the dog. She noticed Remus to her left doing the same. She crouched down once she was in front of everyone, putting herself on the same level as Sirius, and reached out her hand. He hesitantly padded towards her, taking an inquisitive sniff of her hand. Apparently, he smelt something he liked because he began licking her hand vigorously.

“Ewww Sirius, you don’t even know where I’ve been.” She giggled, his rough tongue tickling her palm. The dog let out a bark that sounded ridiculously like a laugh, before heading over to Remus, bowing his head in front of the wizard to receive a head scratch. Trotting away from Remus the dog gave everyone in the room a stern stare before transitioning back into human form. In seconds her Professor was embracing the man like he had done in the shack, like their lives depended upon it. Narcissa and Andromeda also moved forward pulling him into a hug, the three of their foreheads touching. When they had all let go, Sirius looked to Hermione who hurried forward, chucking her arms around his waist. He held her tight and kissed the top of her head. “You brilliant, brilliant girl.”

Fudge stood awkwardly to the side. “Well, this is quite the coup. Lord Black, we will arrange to have your written pardon passed in the Wizengamot as soon as possible. I expect no push back given the evidence myself, Ms Bones and Auror Shacklebolt have seen tonight. You are released on cautionary bail for the interim as a matter of procedure.” He coughed lightly, “I, um, would like to extend the deepest of apologies on behalf of the Ministry. Obviously, all of the actions that took place were before my time as Minister you should remember, but… well, you have my apologies." Lord Malfoy coughed slightly,

"An apology that will be made public as soon as the Wizengamot hearing is through." Fudge added quickly, "You are welcome to return home to wherever you may wish.” The nod of his head indicated that things were wrapped up and he was ready to leave.

“I would like to add a formal apology from the Department for Magical Law Enforcement,” Amelia Bones added, “it didn’t happen under my watch, but nevertheless, the way that your arrest was handled was completely unacceptable. The chaos of the time doesn’t justify it at all. I can assure you we will look into what went wrong. I’m sorry Sirius.”

She then handed Sirius his wand and a small bag of belongings that must have been on him when he was arrested.

“I understand Amelia, don’t sweat it.” Sirius’ voice was hoarse but friendly. Ms Bones smiled at him, and he gave her a wide grin back, “You made it then? Head of the DMLE?”

“Apparently so.”

Oh, Hermione thought, they know each other.

“You, Sirius Black, are free to go.” Ms Bones waved her hand at the open door.

Hermione could hardly believe it – Sirius was free, and it had only taken a few hours.

The Black cousins looked amongst themselves. “To Meda’s house.” Narcissa announced, taking Sirius’ arm.

Draco moved to his father, Nymphadora approached Lupin and Andromeda made her way to Hermione, reaching for hand and clasping it firmly.

With a farewell to the Minister, Amelia Bones and Agent Shacklebolt, they all disappeared.

Andromeda and Hermione arrived at the front door of the property, swiftly followed by Narcissa, Sirius, Nymphadora and Lupin.

“Dora dear, could you go and let Lucius and Draco through the wards, I’m afraid I didn’t think to tap Lucius in before we left.” The Auror’s hair turned to blonde and she disappeared into the night.

“Please come in.” Narcissa and Lupin were supporting Sirius, who appeared to have become overwhelmed by the travel and the location. “Hermione dear, would you put the kettle on? The kitchen is straight down the hall, everything you need will be in the cupboard to the left of the stove.”

Hermione didn’t love being dismissed to attend to domestic chores, it was something her mother did to get her out of the way, but she wasn’t in a position to disobey. She watched as Sirius was deposited on a sofa and the two Black sisters began casting diagnostic charms over him. Lupin had taken out a notebook to record whatever they were finding. Looking at the scene she got the sudden sense that she was intruding and hurried herself through the entrance hall to the kitchen. It didn’t take her long to work out where everything was and soon the kettle was on to boil and she had a tray of teacups lined up alongside a waiting teapot.

As she waited for the water to boil she leant against the wooden cabinets and closed her eyes to take a moment to go over the events of the afternoon, as she did so she rubbed at her arm, noticing the area that felt sore at the contact as a result of Ron’s grasp. She winced a little but pushed the pain to the back of her mind, trying to focus on Sirius being free and what this meant going forward.

“Has he left a mark?” came a familiar low voice.  She snapped her eyes open.

“I’m sure there’ll be some bruise salve in the house.” Tonks added, standing beside Malfoy with a face of thunder. Malfoy’s face mirrored his cousin. Hermione took a breath, noticing the likeness between them. Well, there was no denying they were related.

“It’s fine, nothing to worry about.” The kettle began to hiss and she turned her back to the pair, pouring the water into the tea pot. “Can you give me a hand carrying these through Nymphadora? You’re far less likely to drop them using magic than I will be if I try and carry the tray.”

“Not likely,” Tonks said under her breath with a smile, “My team in the Auror department made me a special rosette, ‘Most mugs broken at the tea point’, just last week.” Regardless she cast the spell, hovering the tray and letting it lead the trio through into the front room. “Please call me Tonks by the way, Nymphadora is for when I drop the mugs…” she said with a wink.

Hermione noticed Malfoy still looking at her arm as she passed him, his eyes tight. “I’m fine.” She muttered as he made way for the two witches to enter the room before him.

The scene they entered was fraught. Sirius was stood, shouting obscenities at Lord Malfoy while Remus tried to convince him to sit down. Narcissa and Andromeda were engaged in an intense conversation, whispering in the corner of the room and making exaggerated hand gestures at each other. Hermione quickly glanced at Tonks and then at Malfoy, neither seeming to know what to do as they hovered in the doorway.

“We brought tea!” Hermione announced. “Maybe we should all take a breather on whatever is happening here?” She confidently walked forward before taking a seat on the sofa. She was surprised to find that Malfoy followed, taking a seat beside her, while Tonks set the tray down on the table and began pouring. The adults in the room seemed stunned into silence and all tentatively found their own seats. Tea orders established and cups distributed Hermione took the lead and broke the awkward silence the had descended over the room,

“Well, it would seem that the first part of my plan has worked out remarkably well. Sirius, welcome back to, um... a life of non-imprisonment?” She said and Sirius let out another bark of a laugh. Tonks joined in the laughter, followed quickly by Remus. Even Narcissa and Andromeda were stifling smirks behind their cups of tea.

“Kitten, I’ve been in your company for a combined total of less than 2 hours and I can assure you, I’m confident any plan you come up with is going to pay off.” He raised his cup of tea to her as if it was a glass of alcohol. She blushed at his compliment, cringing internally at his use of a pet name.

“Here, here,” Remus added, placing a hand on Sirius’ leg.

“Which begs the question Miss Granger,” Lord Malfoy began to speak from where he stood behind his wife’s chair, “What exactly is next on your plan?” She couldn’t place the tone in his voice, he almost sounded amused, maybe just incredulousness at her involvement. She had been prepared for this but being asked in this setting with so many expectant faces was unsettling. She rubbed the porcelain china she held in her hands.

“Well, now that Sirius is pardoned… as I understand it… from the books I’ve read…” she caught Malfoy’s lip twitch upwards slightly as he raised his teacup to his lips, but she pushed on,”…he should look to confirm his re-instated position as Lord of the House of Black by attending Gringotts. I don’t believe the goblins will be bothered about the formal hearing taking place. They will update you on your financial affairs. In the process you should probably also formalise your legal guardianship over Harry. I believe Gringotts manage all of that? Once that is established, the next step will be to extract Harry from the Dursley’s house, ideally without Dumbledore’s knowledge. I have a plan for how to approach the Dursley’s and I can’t imagine them putting up much resistance. Once we’ve done that, and Harry has agreed, which he will,” she threw Sirius a reassuring glance, “you will formally adopt him to the House of Black, which will need to be done at Gringotts as well. From that point on, again, as I understand it, Dumbledore would have no say in any of his personal affairs be it monetary or familial. Harry will then accept his position as Lord Potter in the Wizengamot, deferring his seat to a proxy while he is in school to someone he trusts, if that’s what he wants to do.”

The room was quiet and Hermione’s nerves took over, she looked to Mr Malfoy who was staring at her in bewilderment.

“Does that line up with how you think we should proceed Lord Malfoy? I’m sure I have missed something.” She didn’t know why she felt compelled to get his approval, but she couldn’t help but be pleased when he shot her a quick smile before replying,

“No, Miss Granger, you seem to have covered everything quite thoroughly. The one exception would be the involvement of the Weasleys. I don’t say this because of some ridiculous rivalry, but because of their closeness with Dumbledore. Your friend, Ronald, is now involved, and his parents aware. Lupin has already explained that his conversation with them tonight highlighted just how strong their allegiance to him is. It is entirely likely that this has got back to Dumbledore by now.”

“I trust Ron, but I admit I don’t know what his parents will do.” Hermione conceded.

“They were remarkably loyal to Dumbledore. Molly especially. She seemed to think that proving Sirius’ innocence required Dumbledore's go ahead when we talked earlier this evening. Arthur seemed to appreciate my request to keep this between family for now though…” Remus said with a frown.

“Best we move fast then, Hermione dear, what was your plan to get Harry out of his Aunt and Uncle’s house?” Narcissa moved to sit on her other side forcing her to shift closer to Malfoy to make space, his knee bumping against hers in the process, both flinching at the sudden contact.

“Oh well, quite simple really, money…” she had the decency to look ashamed at the suggestion, she was essentially asking someone else to pay off the Dursley's after all, but she knew it was a currency, quite literally, that the Malfoy’s and Black’s would be familiar with. “From what I’ve gleaned, they have predominantly been bothered…” she scoffed, “…by the fact that they have been ‘put out’. I believe that a compensatory sum of money for their time and care,” she sneered at the word, “will be more than enough incentive for them to allow Harry to leave without asking further questions.”

The adult’s eyes all flicked between one another’s and Sirius finally spoke. “Remind me what house you were sorted Hermione?” His voice was gruff and cracked, but an element of humour hinted through, “Once I’ve been confirmed as head of the House of Black at Gringotts I will be more than happy to make the Dursley’s amenable to letting Harry leave.” Hermione didn’t know how much he knew about Harry’s living situation but Remus squeezed his leg in support.

Mr Malfoy spoke next, “I believe we should look to get this sorted as soon as possible. Might I suggest a bath… scourer… bleach before we leave for the bank?” Hermione held her breath, expecting Sirius to burst into a torrent of rage again, but instead he chucked his head back and laughed. Narcissa and Andromeda pulled him out of the door and up the stairs. Remus followed slowly, chuckling at the howls of distress Sirius was making in the process.

Once they had left the room, Mr Malfoy turned to Hermione. “Miss Granger, I would like to commend you on how well you have navigated all of this and your thorough research into the matter.” He quickly nodded his head before turning away and helping himself to a glass of firewhiskey from the cabinet adjacent to the sofa she was sat at. The man still scared her, but she found herself basking in his praise, knowing how influential he was and his reputation as a topflight barrister.

“Thank you Lord Malfoy, please call me Hermione,” the words were out of her mouth before she could begin to feel ridiculous. She knew Ron would be furious to hear her offer such form of familiarity with the man; her assessment reinforced by the weird gasping hiss Malfoy made sat beside her. It seemed to her he was holding his breath.

“Then, please call me Lucius,” offered Lord Malfoy as he settled into the squishy armchair. He looked rather ridiculous in his pristine robes, sunken into the cushions. But he seemed perfectly content as he nursed his drink, an odd smile on his face.

Malfoy exhaled suddenly. The breath Hermione had predicted he was holding expelled abruptly.

“Father, can I have a word?”

“Not now Draco.”

“I think I must insist.” He bit the words out through his teeth.

“Let us wait until your mother is here.”

“NO.” Hermione was startled by Malfoy standing suddenly, shouting to the room. Still holding her cup of tea, she set it down gently on a placemat on the side table to her left and moved her hand to her wand instinctively. Malfoy clocked the action.

“Merlin Granger, do you really think I’m about to curse you? What kind of bat shit propaganda has your head been overloaded with about us.”

“I don’t know Malfoy, maybe the same kind of stuff that you’ve been told about people like me.” She didn’t mince her words, rising to stand so that she was stood directly in front of him.

“I assure you, the pedestal you put your morals on isn’t quite as high as you think. Father.” He jerked his head and left the room, Lord Malfoy following behind him.

Draco was tired. He’d been pulled along on this mission of righteousness and it was finally getting to him. He’d been brought up in a pureblood household, he told himself. They didn’t like muggleborns, they didn’t associate with blood traitors, but here his parents were, joking, complimenting and scheming with both. What the hell was going on?

“Draco, that was badly done, I’m quite glad your mother wasn’t downstairs to witness your outburst. Explain.” His father commanded.

“I don’t know. I just don’t understand.” His father raised an eyebrow, Draco wasn’t getting more out of him without giving more. “You’re meant to hate her. You’re meant to hate them.

“Draco, have you ever heard me use derogatory language about muggleborns? Have you ever heard me speak badly of your Aunt or Lord Black?”

Draco thought back. Realising that, no, he hadn’t. His father had never called anyone a mudblood. Sure, he’d heard his father rant about muggleborns but thinking back he realised it was mainly business-related complaints about specific people not the group as a whole. He’d also never heard his Father discuss Andromeda or Sirius. Before this whole year had begun they hadn’t been a topic of conversation.

Noticing his son’s hesitancy to answer Lucius continued, “Exactly Draco. I bare no ill will to muggleborns. I know they play their role in our society, furthering advancement and bringing new blood - quite literally. That’s not to say I don’t believe in the importance of the Sacred 28 and our position within that. I do believe there are some wizarding families better than others, borne through our history and ancestry. And I believe that upholding and maintaining wizarding traditions is important. I will not deny that. I also bare no ill will to your Aunt or Sirius. They were removed formally from the family tapestry just as I was becoming part of the family, but I know for a fact your mother’s heart has been broken by their absence since the moment they were blasted off that godforsaken bit of cloth. If bringing them back heals that section of her heart, I won’t stop until it becomes a certainty.”

“You’ve drilled into me that we are better. Your friends definitely aren’t as liberal as you are. How was I to know you didn’t subscribe to their views?!” He hissed back.

“I have connections and business deals that require nurturing. I play the role I need to play without giving my hand away. But Draco, what are your views?”

“I..” Draco honestly didn’t know what to reply, he’d never really believed in blood superiority, anyone with a brain could see that it didn’t make sense. But he had been sure that that was how he was meant to think. It was how his friends thought. Maybe not Theo, but definitely the rest of them. “You were on HIS side in the war!” was all he could reply.

“We are Malfoy’s. We pride ourselves on our business acumen. Yes. I was on his side. But I saw it as a shrewd political decision. It was the expected course of action within the Black and Malfoy families; I couldn’t avoid it given the timing of our union. Your mother and I judged it the better of two evils and we kept to the fringes. It was only ever for the continuity of our family within the wizarding world. I admit, it was selfish.” Draco didn’t think his father had ever been this honest with him and it irritated him that it had taken an outburst brought on by Hermione Granger of all people to make them have this conversation. 

“You could have explained.”

“Draco, should I be concerned by your attitude here? Do you have an issue with Miss Granger’s presence?”

“No! I mean. I just… I didn’t realise I was allowed to not be bothered.”

“My boy,” his father pulled him into an embrace. Draco didn’t know the last time this had happened. He would add it into the list of peculiar things to have occurred that afternoon, “I’m sorry that we didn’t make it clearer. We are what I like to call, grey. I have been trying to maintain a certain reputation and I apologise that that has left you with certain opinions about our family and how we place ourselves in society,” Draco didn’t think he’d ever heard his father apologise to him before. Draco’s face was strained thinking back on how he’d behaved in the last three years at school. As if his father was reading his thoughts he added, “I won’t lie and say that I don’t expect you to maintain a certain level of care when talking with your fellow Slytherins, but I hope you haven’t been too mean to that witch?” Draco tried to retreat into his mind, like his mother had taught him, trying to hide memories of his taunting and teasing, but he clearly didn’t do well enough. His father held him at arm’s length, staring at him. “Hm,” he simply said before reacting to their family members coming back down the stairs.

Chapter Text

The man that walked down the stairs was not the man who had walked up them. Now bathed and dressed in new clothes, Sirius Black looked almost like an entirely new person. He was dressed in sharp black slack dress trousers, a dark grey silk shirt and dress robes that he had left open at the front. The top few buttons of his shirt were left undone, exposing the beginnings of numerous tattoos. His jet-black hair had been washed and trimmed; remaining long enough though that it could be pulled back into a slick low bun. Numerous rings now adorned his hands, including a signet ring on his little finger that closely resembled the one that Malfoy and his father wore. His face, now clean shaven, exposed striking cheekbones and jaw line, exacerbated by his years in prison and subsequent months on the run. Draco looked at the man in awe, amazed at how well put together he looked - all things considering. Hell, Draco could admit he looked ridiculously cool.

“An improvement?” Sirius joked, looking at Remus with a devious grin.

“Much so.” Remus murmured. Draco noticed a growing blush on his defence Professor’s cheeks as he looked his friend up and down. Definitely not just friends, he noted.

Andromeda had hurried herself into the kitchen and returned with a leather box full of vials, a number of which she began handing off to Sirius while Narcissa hovered by his elbow, making sure he drank each one. Draco’s rudimentary potions skills meant he only recognised a few, Pepper-Up solution being one of them, but he was sure the others were various supplements. In confirmation Andromeda began giving instructions, “Those should kick in soon. We don’t want you passing out at Gringotts. I’ll draw you up a potions regimen tomorrow,” she handed him a final vial, “we should be able to sort out your nutrient deficiencies quite quickly if you take the appropriate potions on a daily basis.”

Sirius eyed his final vial of potion before downing it and giving a dramatic wince, “Oh joy.”

“If you’ve finished being a child, I think it’s best we get going to Gringotts. Hermione, Lupin I believe it will be best if you stall here until we are sorted. You’re welcome to come of course, but I think reduced numbers might be easier. We will be back as soon as we have everything resolved and then we can move to extract Mister Potter,” he turned back to Sirius, “We will be flooing directly to the Malfoy accountant chambers to avoid the public seeing you before your release is made common knowledge.”

Professor Lupin gave the confirmation that he and Hermione were happy to remain at Andromeda’s in the interim, pulling Sirius into another long embrace.

The Malfoys, Sirius and Andromeda all left through the floo soon after, leaving Hermione, Lupin and Tonks alone in the house. Remus was agitated with nervous energy. Hermione went to refresh his cup of tea and guide him into a seat. Handing him his tea he grabbed her hand. “Thank you, thank you so much for everything.” Hermione didn’t say anything, releasing her hand and pouring herself another cup of tea, she sat next to him, he took her free hand and they waited.

While they sat, Hermione finally took in the house they were in. It was a stone-built farm cottage, renovated but with a lot of the original features. The floors were flagstone and each of the rooms she’d seen so far had original fireplaces and wooden ceiling beams. The furniture was homely and slightly mis-matched, but she could tell the quality hadn’t been skimped on, which she took as a nod to Andromeda’s upbringing. Her time in the kitchen and watching Andromeda with Sirius had made her conclude that Andromeda was most likely a mediwitch or had trained to a certain degree in her past; the ceiling was littered with drying herbs and plants and the cupboards were adorned with jars of ingredients. Beyond the kitchen Hermione was sure she had spied a brewing room. The house felt lived in and loved and it was settling as they waited.

“You have a lovely home Tonks.”

“Thanks!” replied the witch, moving the empty teacups back onto the tray on the table. She fumbled one as she worked but quickly caught it with nimble fingers. “I shouldn’t still be living at home, but Mum and Dad don’t seem to mind. I’ll move out at some point. Although... I should probably learn how to cook something more than scrambled eggs before then.” She screwed up her face.

“How long have you been an Auror?” Hermione pretended she hadn’t noticed the incident with the cup.

“Just finished my third year of training and final exams. I’m newly fully fledged! I was recruited straight out Hogwarts. It’s been pretty intense.”

“Who do you work under?” Remus asked.

“Mad-eye. Absolutely mental guy but he’s brilliant. I was shocked when I was asked to partner with him. I was so nervous on my first day that I managed to break three of his dark-arts detecting devices in the first 20 minutes of being in his office.”

Remus chuckled, “He’s always had that effect on people. James looked like he was going to throw up on his first day of training.”

“James was an Auror?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, both him and Sirius signed up as soon as we graduated. It was the height of the war, we were all in the Order, it seemed like the right thing to do. Honestly, I think regardless of all of that, it’s where they both would have ended up. Fighting the good fight.”

“That’s why Ms Bones knew Sirius.” Hermione was putting two and two together.

“Yes, she was already in the department when they joined, and was an active part of the Order.”

“What exactly was the Order?”

“A question for another day,” Lupin sighed.

After around 30 minutes, the room became alive again with the re-appearance of their group.

“How did it go?” Hermione asked, jumping on her feet. Sirius was already taking off his dress robes while making his way over to her.

“Piece of cake kitten, I am, and always should have been, Harry’s guardian. The fact Dumbledore took over is a mystery to the goblins as well as us. I have full control of my vast and ever-growing finances, am officially the head of the House of Black, and everything is hunkydory.” He hugged her around her shoulders. “I believe we’re onto the final element of this stage of the plan.”

“This stage?” she queried.

“Oh kitten, I know I haven’t known you long, but I’ve known witches like you before. I’d happily place money on the fact that you haven’t planned just for today’s events.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and tried really hard to stop herself from tapping her foot. He was right of course, but she didn’t like being exposed as being predictable. The adults in the room all laughed lightly at the display.

“I’m ready to go.” She huffed. Sirius chuckled and gave her shoulder a squeeze.

Sirius turned to Narcissa and Andromeda, “It’s a lot to ask, but if I try and summon Kreacher, could you possibly work with him and your own elves in order to get three of the bedrooms at Grimmauld in working order? I believe I need a home if I’m meant to be adopting a child.”

“It’s no bother at all. Three rooms?”

“Well, Hermione’ll need a room.” He replied very matter-of-factly. It took Hermione by surprise, she knew she was expected home and hadn’t anticipated staying the night anywhere else. Narcissa caught her eye.

“I think Hermione’s parent’s may be expecting her this evening.” She replied on Hermione’s behalf.

“Oh yeah of course, I just mean in the future.” He threw Hermione a disarming grin.

“I’m sure we can get something set up,” Andromeda stepped in. “Do you want to try and call the gremlin now?” Narcissa and Sirius chuckled.

“Kreacher!” Sirius called into the abyss. With a crack a house elf appeared. The only house elf Hermione had interacted with was Dobby, and this one was definitely much older, his back was hunched and the tea towel he wore as a tunic was black with filth.

“Oh, the shameful Master Black has returned. My mistress will be greatly sad. What a waste of a boy.” The elf croaked.

“Kreacher. As I am sure you are aware, I am Lord of the House of Black and you will obey me.”

“Yes sir.” The elf bowed in front of Sirius, his nose almost touching the floor.  

“I’m sure you remember my cousins? Narcissa and Andromeda are going to accompany you to Grimmauld Place along with some other elves. You will prepare my old room, along with two others and make sure that a reception room and the kitchen are adequate to receive guests.” It wasn’t given as an order as such, more a statement of fact. Kreacher looked up in surprise at being given tasks to do for the first time in years. His large eyes scanned the room before landing on the Black sisters.

“Oh Missy Cissa and Missy Meda! You are back together!” The demeanour of the grumpy old elf suddenly disappeared and he hurried hunched-backed to where the two women stood.

“It’s a delight to see you again Kreacher.”

“I’ve missed you Kreacher. You and your custard tarts.”

The two witch’s voices overlapped as he gazed up at them in adoration.

“Will you allow us to accompany you back to Grimmauld to set up for the new Lord Black and his godson?” Narcissa asked with a smile.

“Of course, of course. What an honour it is to have the House of Black together again. Mistress will be most pleased.”

Sirius cut in, “Please hold off on telling ‘mistress’ until I’m home.” His voice was severe, and Andromeda shot him a look, “If that’s okay with you Kreacher?” he added.

“As the master requests.”

With a low bow to Sirius, he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

“Remus, Hermione, I believe Harry will be best receiving you. I will accompany you along with Sirius. Dora, could you join us in an official capacity to ensure that nothing gets too… out of hand?” Lucius looked at Sirius, who shrugged, “Narcissa, Andromeda, I take it you are heading to the Black residence?” The two women nodded. “Draco, you are welcome to accompany myself or your mother. Or you can return home. I know the afternoon has been more than you expected.”

Draco was thrown by the question, realising quickly that everyone had tasks apart from him. He didn’t know what was at Grimmauld Place, but looking at his mother and her sister he quickly got the impression this was going to be a bonding opportunity for them and one he didn’t want to third wheel.

“I’ll come with you Father…” he hesitated slightly, before looking at Granger, “if you think that’s going to be okay?” he asked her.

“Oh, well… actually I think it’s a good idea. It’s another show of unity I guess… how everything hasn’t been as it seems. If you’re okay with it?” she threw the question back to him.

Shrugging he went to stand by his father.

“We’ll reconvene at Grimmauld Place.”

Sirius was in charge of apparating the individual parties, being the only person who had actually frequented the area around Harry’s Aunt and Uncle’s house.

They arrived in a back alley of a housing estate. A maze of uniform houses and wooden fencing. Sirius led them through the alleys until they reached a cul-de-sac, pointing towards a very bland, very suburban house. Draco couldn’t help but think that this didn’t look so terrible. Maybe Potter doesn’t have it as bad as Granger had made out, he pondered. The thought quickly disappeared as they got closer to the house. Even a couple doors away Draco could hear shouting and could tell from the way that Professor Lupin’s footsteps quickened that the werewolf was receiving the audio loud and clear. The group sped up to match Lupin’s pace.

“YOU WASTE OF SPACE OF A CHILD! WE ASK YOU TO DO ONE THING!” bellowed a loud voice.

“I cooked and washed up, I don’t know what I missed?!” came Potter’s voice. Still as defiant as he was at school, but definitely holding back some fire, Malfoy could hear desperation in his tone.

“You thought you could hide the fact you’d snuck your mumbo jumbo books upstairs? Huh?” There was a sound of a body hitting a hard surface.

“It’s just reading; school work.” Draco was shocked to hear Potter pleading now. Actually pleading.

“NOT IN MY HOUSE. You hear me!?” There was a gasp that sounded all too much like someone preparing to receive a punishment. The group of wizards and witches were at the front door now, and Sirius made no small matter of kicking it in.

“What the bloody hell!” Vernon Dursley was stood in the hallway, his hand grasped around Harry’s neck and his other raised in a fist. Sirius, Lupin and Lucius had their wands trained on the man within seconds. As Petunia rounded the corner Tonks raised hers to focus on her.

“Vernon. Petunia.” Sirius’ voice was full of loathing as he stared down the two adults.

“Sirius? Professor?” Harry was bewildered, “Hermione!” he shouted, noticing her step through the door. His uncle had let go of him by now and was backing against the wall allowing Harry to run to her. He embraced her tightly, his hands gripping at the back of her dress and his head buried into her neck. “We’ve come to get you out.” Draco heard her say as she ran a hand through his hair. The boy lifted his head slightly, turning back to survey the room.

“Sirius…” he breathed, moving towards the man. Sirius let his wand arm drop, Lupin maintained his stance, wand trained on Vernon, as Sirius pulled Harry into a tight hug. “You’re leaving this place tonight.” He muttered into his godson’s hair. Draco watched Harry’s back as it began to heave slightly, his sobs becoming audible the longer he held onto Sirius.

“If you think you can just walk in here and leave with my nephew you’re very wrong.” Petunia managed to squeak out.

“Quite right,” chimed in Vernon, “who the bloody hell are you?” Draco enjoyed the wavering in his voice.

Sirius released Harry slightly from the embrace he was holding him in, “I am Harry’s godfather and confirmed rightful guardian. I will be removing Harry from your care tonight, and if we’re lucky, we won’t be seeing you ever again.”

“I am Lord Black’s lawyer, and I will make sure that this is an agreement that you are very much on board with.” Lucius drawled, his wand now trained on Petunia.

“An agreement ey?” Vernon’s eyes squinted as he assessed the implication of the word. “Maybe we should all take a seat in the living room?”

“Lead the way.” Lucius instructed with a subtle flick of his wand.

The Dursley’s filed into the living room, taking a seat next to each other on a ridiculously floral sofa. The rest of the group remained standing in a semi-circle in front of them. They’d managed to manoeuvrer themselves into an interrogation position.

“Quite simply, Lord Black is Harry’s legal guardian as directed by the wills of both Lily Potter and James Potter. As such, he is willing to take over full legal custody of Harry.”

“If he’s meant to have been his carer, where the bloody hell has he been?” grunted Vernon.

“Oh,just falsely imprisoned for 13 years for mass murder… all sorted now though.” Sirius threw Vernon a wink and Draco watched the man’s bulbous neck take a large swallow. Hermione had reached for Harry’s hand.

“We were told not to let Harry leave.” Petunia spoke up, her hands twisting in her lap.

“By Professor Dumbledore I assume?” Lucius replied, “Legally he was in no position to make that call. He is not Harry’s guardian, and does not work for the Ministry of Magic and therefore has no jurisdiction in the matter.”

“You mean to tell me,” Vernon was on his feet again, “that he had no right at all to request we take this runt of a boy?”

To his own surprise, Draco stepped forward pulling his wand on the man. It was a move full of posture considering he wasn’t allowed to use magic out of school.

“Draco, wand down.” His father instructed, “Yes, that’s exactly what we’re saying and for the inconvenience and intrusion we wish to compensate you.”

Vernon stepped away from Draco’s wand and sat back down on the sofa. “What kind of compensation are we talking?”

“How about £6000 a year for every year you’ve had Harry with you. Including his years at Hogwarts. I’m sure that’ll more than cover the expenses you’ve had to outlay in housing and clothing him. I can write a check for £78,000 now,” Sirius offered, “Hell, let’s round it up to £80,000. That’ll cover the cost of the window that got bust out a year ago when he needed freeing from his jail cell of a bedroom and the damage to your front door.” Sirius was letting his sarcasm getting away from him. Draco had no idea what the muggle money translated to in wizarding currency but he could tell by the slack jawed reaction of the oaf of a man that it must be a considerable amount.

On the other side of the room Hermione could feel Harry tensing beside her, Lupin must have filled Sirius in on some details while he’d been getting cleaned up. Malfoy returned to stand near to them taking a position directly behind Hermione. 

“£80,000?” Vernon stuttered. “What’s the catch? We just give the boy to you and what?”

“And nothing. We’d all quite happily stay well away from you.” Remus replied.

Petunia muttered something that had everyone barring Lupin leaning in.

“Whatever Dumbledore said doesn’t stand anymore, we can make Harry safe.”

“What about the blood protections?” This time the woman spoke up so everyone could hear.

“’Tuny, what are you talking about?” Vernon lowered his voice to a growl. “None of this magic business?”

“He said when he left him with us that he was protected because of “blood protections”; family blood.” She declared.

“Did it protect him from your husband?” Sirius said coldly, before handing her a cheque. “We’ll be using your garden to leave.” He made to walk out of the room before turning abruptly and levelling Petunia with a look that could only be described as disgust, “Lily would have murdered you in your sleep for how you’ve treated Harry.”

The woman took a look at the piece of paper in her hands, her eyes widening substantially before nodding at Sirius, shame written all over her face. Sirius left the room and Hermione took his lead, tugging the sleeve of Harry’s jumper to pull him with her. Lupin and Malfoy followed behind them. Her eyes lingered on Harry, who was looking at his Aunt with curiosity until she nudged him further out of the room. As they moved into the hallway a hulking great shape made its way down the stairs.

“What’s going on Harry?” said the boy, teenager, man. Had she not had inside knowledge as to who this probably was, Hermione wouldn’t have been able to easily age the boy based on his size.

“I’m leaving Dudley. You’re finally shot of me.”

“Uh, oh, for good?”

“Yes, for good. If you’ll let me past to get my stuff?”

“Oh, I hope it works okay for you…” It wasn’t the reaction Hermione had expected from the boy. His voice was softened and he let Harry scurry past him on the stairs. Hermione made to pass him has well, but he put his arm out to stop her. Both Harry and Malfoy reacted, Harry turning on the stairs above Dudley and Malfoy pulling up behind her.

“Move your arm.” Malfoy commanded and the boy’s arm shot back to his side.

“Let her past. She’s my friend.” Harry announced from further up the stairs.

“I just wanted to know who you were.” The boy huffed.

“Hermione Granger.” She held out a hand to him which he shook awkwardly, his large hand warm and sweaty. Withholding a grimace, she continued the journey upstairs before finding Harry in his room. It was stark, with little more than a single bed, a chest of drawers and a bookshelf. Hermione tried hard not to focus on the lock and the makeshift cat flap on the bedroom door. Shooting a look at Malfoy she could tell that he had noticed them as well, but he remained quiet.

“Do you need a hand with anything?”

“No, not really, everything is already essentially still packed.”

Harry pulled her away from where Malfoy was standing,

“What the hell is going on Hermione?” he muttered under his breath.

“I’ll explain I promise, but we’re on a bit of a clock.” She moved towards Hedwig’s cage where it was placed on top of the chest of drawers, “If I give her a location will she find it okay?”

“Never had an issue yet…”

“Hedwig, can you go to 12 Grimmauld Place? We’ll meet you there and give you a good meal.”

The owl pecked affectionately at her fingers before taking off through the open window into the night. She made to grab Hedwig’s cage, but Malfoy beat her to it, “I’ve got it,” he said quietly, picking up the cage and leaving the room.

Now it was just Harry and her, “Why is he here? Why’s he being decent? How is Sirius here? Why is Lucius Malfoy with you?” She cut him off by pulling him into another hug and he settled into her embrace.

“It’s been a long afternoon; I promise I’ll tell you everything once we’re out of here.”

His hold on her tightened.

“You’ve done something crazy again haven’t you?” he laughed into her hair. “You mental witch.”

She felt a release of emotion and began laughing uncontrollably, “I… you… yes, I guess I have.” She managed to get out between gasps.

Sirius called up the stairs to ask if they needed anymore assistance. Harry let go of her and took a final look around, grabbed his broom from the corner and then left his room at Privet Drive for the last time.

Harry didn’t look at his relatives as he made his way downstairs and past the living room where they were still gathered, but Hermione took a quick look at the trio, catching Petunia and Dudley’s eyes as she did so. One looked resigned, the other looked almost grateful. Maybe Harry had had an ally in the house all along?

In the back garden, surrounded by perfectly manicured rose bushes, Lupin cast a silencing spell and disillusioned the group to detract from the sound of their upcoming apparition. The seven of them formed a circle, the three male adults holding a teenager each. Hermione took in what an odd sight it was. Lucius had a grip on Malfoy’s shoulder, Malfoy awkwardly holding the empty bird cage. Sirius had one arm wrapped tightly around Harry, his other arm holding Harry's school trunk. Lupin had taken Hermione’s hand, grasping it tightly. And Tonks was positively bouncing on the spot, looking in awe at the Firebolt she had just been handed. As Hermione cast her eye around the group, she locked eyes with Lupin, his own shimmering with tears and he ran his thumb over her knuckles. They didn’t say anything, but Hermione felt like she knew exactly what he was thinking.

We’ve got them.

Chapter Text

They all apparated onto the front steps of a large townhouse made of grey brick. Andromeda opened the door to them all, hurrying them inside with a finger to her lips to tell them to keep their voices down.

“Your mother did a fantastic job of memorialising herself Sirius,” She whispered, “We’ve just managed to get her portrait to stop talking. It’s a very unsettling likeness.” She led them through a long dark corridor and down a couple of steps and into a large kitchen. A substantial wooden table took up the majority of the room, flanked by matching benches. The cabinets were painted a midnight blue, the colour almost black in the more shaded areas of the room, and the work tops were made of dark wood. It looked old, but relatively unused. Narcissa appeared into the room from a secondary entrance and made her way straight to Harry. He stepped back instinctively at the intrusion into his personal space. Noting his reaction, she simply placed a hand on his cheek,

“Harry, I am so glad to meet you. I’ve set you up in a room next to Sirius’, I didn’t know what colours you’d like so I just went with traditional red and gold. I thought you might feel most comfortable with something similar to the Gryffindor common room. If it isn’t to your liking though just let me know and I’ll get it re-arranged.”

“Um, thank you, Mrs Malfoy?” Harry stammered.

“Kreacher?” Sirius called, and the house elf popped to his side, “can we get some tea and coffee for everyone?” Kreacher nodded and moved his way to the stove at the far end of the room. Sirius stood in front of Harry, looking him up and down, before pulling him forward into what Hermione could tell was a bone crushing hug. She looked at the scene with tears in her eyes before she found herself being dragged into the very same hug, first sandwiching Harry between herself and Sirius until Remus joined the fray and she became a centre piece to the crush alongside Harry. Before long Harry pushed them all apart and took a seat at the long table. Hermione could tell by the look on his face that they were all about to get an interrogation. She sat herself opposite him and everyone else took her lead.

“Wait until the drinks have arrived,” she cautioned, stopping him from beginning his onslaught of questions. Narcissa appeared to appreciate her diffusion of the situation, giving her a slight nod. As they waited for Kreacher to bring the drinks she noted that Malfoy had sat to one side of her and Lupin the other. Across from them Harry was flanked by Sirius and Narcissa. Andromeda and Lucius sat at the top and tail of the table. Tonks, not one to be seated for long apparently, was perched on top of the countertop, her legs swinging and heavy boots knocking off the wooden cabinet doors.

When Kreacher hovered a tray of tea and coffee over to them, they all served themselves their respective cups, taking a brief sip of the scalding drinks to fill the silence before Harry began.

“How has this happened?” It was a fair enough question. Lucius, looked Sirius who gave him a dismissive wave of his hand, apparently granting him permission to take on the role of mediator.

“First, I think we need to make some introductions. Obviously, you know my son, and you’ve just met my wife Narcissa. This is her sister, Andromeda and her daughter Nymphadora.” The witch on the counter coughed and threw him a glare. “Dora.” He amended. “Narcissa and Andromeda are Sirius’ cousins.”

Harry nodded in understanding, “It’s lovely to meet you all.”

Lucius continued, “The long and short of it is that Hermione approached Theodore Nott to request that he contact our family in order to aid in the exoneration of Sirius, knowing that our influence and standing would help to support his testimony of innocence. That meeting took place today and went successfully. We have since had a meeting with the Minister who has confirmed that the evidence provided is sufficient to clear Sirius’ name. His first port of call was to Gringotts to restore his title and to confirm his legal guardianship over you, as per the wishes of your mother and father, his second was to extract you from your Aunt and Uncle’s house. And so, we find ourselves here.” 

“But, you guys don’t like Sirius, why are you helping him? Why are you helping me?” They were all genuine questions that both Malfoy and Hermione were interested in hearing the answer to.

Andromeda took over while Lucius tried to formulate an answer. “As a fellow member of the ‘blasted off the tree club’” (Hermione wasn’t entirely sure what that meant’, “and someone who hasn’t seen my cousin or sister in over a decade, I think I’d like to start Lucius.” She turned her attention to Harry.

“Narcissa, Sirius, Reggie and I grew up together. We spent all of our summer’s with each other and, even when this rebel over here was sorted into Gryffindor ‘bringing shame on the House of Black’, we,” she gestured to herself and her sister, “tried very hard to make sure Sirius’ time back here with his parents was filled with as many good memories as possible to balance out the bad ones we knew were being made when we weren’t here. You should understand, we were best friends.”

Narcissa reached for Sirius’ hand.

“When I eloped with my husband, Ted is muggleborn, I was subsequently disowned by the family and from that moment on was unable to contact Sirius while he was staying in the family home. That was also the last time I saw Narcissa. When Sirius in turn ran away and moved in with the Potter’s, I was able to reach out to him again and we managed to maintain some contact until the end of the first wizarding war. Narcissa, however, I imagine your life became very difficult once we had both left?” Andromeda looked to her sister, her face twisted in a sympathetic smile.

Draco was listening with fascination now; he knew very little of his mother’s childhood.

His mother chuckled sadly, “You could say that. By the time Meda ran away, my entire family were deeply embedded with the Dark Lord. Our older sister Bellatrix had married Rodolphus Lestrange and both were ready to take the mark willingly. Meda’s elopement brought a lot of shame on our parents within the pureblood circles and within the Dark Lord’s rankings. Then, when Sirius ran away, his parents and ours were incensed. Reggie and I were left to bear witness to the madness that began to set in. We were monitored and kept apart; I presume to prevent either of us from trying to convince the other to follow Sirius’ example. My betrothal to Lucius offered me an escape.” She looked at Lucius, her face that had been held tight as she spoke relaxed as she gazed at him.

“If our families hadn’t forced us through all of the formalities, I would have married you in a heartbeat just to get you out of there sooner.” He hung his head slightly.

“I know my dear,” she soothed, “I guess all of this is to say that we never hated Sirius and for myself at least, losing him from our lives has been a deep pain for many years.”

“Can… can I ask a question?” Hermione said timidly.

“Of course, dear.”

“Well, it’s just I got the impression that Andromeda and yourself haven’t spoken to each other for a long time before today? Once you were married why didn’t you reconnect?”

There was a pause and Hermione was suddenly aware of how personal a question that was if they had truly just reunited after so much time.

“I’m sorry that’s a really intrusive question.”

“No, Hermione, you’re right. It’s worth addressing so everyone knows where we stand.” Narcissa took a sip of her coffee, looking to Lucius in the process, “We were married during the first wizarding war. Lucius was bound to be marked, not out of choice I must add, but we agreed that, having seen first-hand the lengths the Dark Lord was going to in order to control his followers, if we turned away from our families and him, we wouldn’t be safe. Then I became pregnant.” Hermione watched as the blonde-haired witch looked at her son, her face settling into one of pure love, “We made our choice out of survival. For our family. It meant I couldn’t reach out to Meda without exposing our, what would you call it… position in the neutral ground. Obviously, many people fighting for the light, for the Order, saw, and still see us, as Death Eaters and champions of the Dark Lord. By the time the war was over, our reputation was set and reaching out felt impossible. We still uphold a certain image for the sake of our businesses and the strength it gives us within the Wizengamot. But, myself and Andromeda have discussed that this afternoon. We understand the position each other was in and accept it as the past.”

Draco was curious, he’d been with his mother nearly all afternoon and hadn’t witnessed that conversation. He glanced at Dora sat on the counter top and she placed her fingers to her eyes pulling them wide. So that's what all the staring was about. 

Lucius coughed lightly, drawing the attention back to himself, “I am sure you’re going to ask my role in all of this Mister Potter. I can only re-iterate what my wife has already said. First and foremost, I do everything for my family. For Narcissa and Draco. I do not and have never believed in the fascist agenda that the Dark Lord put forward. I do however believe in the importance of wizarding customs and traditions and the role of the Sacred 28 in our society. I will be ashamed of the actions that I had to take during the war till the day I die. But I will not apologise for putting my family’s safety first.” He spoke with sincerity and Harry slowly began nodding.

“I guess I can understand that.” Harry conceded, but his eyebrows were furrowed.

“And so, I have helped to facilitate today, following Miss Granger’s planning.” He leant his head in her direction in acknowledgment, “Because seeing Sirius free, restoring the House of Black and getting you out of your Aunt and Uncle’s house, has healed a part of my wife’s heart that has been broken since she, Andromeda and Sirius were separated as teenagers.”

Draco was taken by surprise when Harry turned to him, “And what about you?”

“What about me Potter?” he scoffed.

“Where do you fit into all this?”

“Harry…” Sirius said quietly.

“Well, I don’t know if your glasses need readjusting Potter, but if you hadn’t noticed my family is here.” Draco waved his hand around the table. “Also, your meddlesome friend called in my services in order to get a meeting with my Mother, I simply tagged along for the experience.”

“Harry, I know this has been a lot for you to take in but if I tell you that I have confidence in all parties sat around this table… and countertop… will you trust me on that?” Sirius’ voice was light, but it held weight in the silence of the room.

“If you trust them, then yeah, I guess I do too…” Hermione noticed his eyes flick back to where Malfoy was sitting with a smirk on his face.

“Brilliant.” Sirius clapped his hands together. “I think we should probably call it a day for now. How did you get on with the house Cissa?” He rose from the table looking around the kitchen.

“It’s an infested pit full of dark magic that has been allowed to fester. So not much different to when you used to live here,” she joked, “But Kreacher seems to have kept things in relatively decent condition to cure his boredom. We’ve cleared three rooms as you requested, along with the front drawing room. I plan on coming back tomorrow with some more elves in order to tackle the rest and then I imagine you’ll want to redecorate?” Narcissa answered rising to stand beside him.

“Merlin yes. I want to eradicate all trace of my mother from this place.” Narcissa’s face turned wicked and Sirius barked out a laugh, “I’m done for aren’t I?” he looked to Lucius.

“You’ve made your bed mutt.” The man replied, grinning at his wife who was already scanning the room clearly making plans for the space.

Andromeda laughed, “I have a feeling you’re going to be inundated with fabric swatches and paint samples soon enough.”

“Oh fuck. None of that. Cissa?” Sirius took hold of his cousin’s shoulders, “You have free rein. Feel free to burn through the interest that’s been accumulating in my vault, knock down walls and hire cursebreakers to rid the place of everything toxic. Hell, send an army of elves that work through the night if you must. But, please, don’t make me go furniture shopping.” He sounded like a child pleading not to be made to go to school. Hermione began laughing and quickly the whole room was filled with the sound of laughter.

“Sensible decision,” Lucius said holding out a hand to take Sirius’ and shake it. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow. I expect I’ll hear from Fudge regarding the formal Wizengamot hearing.” Sirius shook his hand, while using the other to clap the man on the shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“Andromeda, it’s been lovely to see you again, and to meet you Dora. Give my best to Ted.” Tonks propelled herself off the counter to stand next to her mother, while Narcissa gave Sirius a hug. Draco went to shake his hand only to find himself also pulled into an embrace. Lucius turned to where Hermione and Harry were still sat at the table. “Miss Granger…” she rose an eyebrow to challenge his formal address, “… Hermione, I imagine you’ll be sick of people saying this today but thank you again for taking the initiative on this matter.”

“Thank you… Lucius.”

The Malfoy’s moved to the large fireplace on the right-hand side of the kitchen, each taking some powder from a pot before leaving for Malfoy Manor. Malfoy muttered a farewell dismissal as he went.

Andromeda gave Sirius a long hug, stroking his hair as she stood back to look at his face again. Hermione thought that she seemed to be trying to memorise his face, as if scared that she wouldn’t see him again. “You precious boy,” she whispered, before pulling him back into the hug. Hermione heard Sirius sniff, his head buried in his cousin’s shoulder. When they released each other, he collected himself, grin on his face again.

“You seem pretty cool Tonks,” he said as she walked over to him. She held out a fist that he proceeded to bump with his own.

“You seem pretty decent as well. Heyy! I won’t have to track you anymore! Out of curiosity, were you ever camped out near Snowdonia?”

“’Fraid not.”

“Damn, I spent the coldest night of the year sat in a shack ‘tracking’ you. Not even a warming spell did the job. I’m going to take it up with Kingsley where we’re getting our leads from.” She huffed.

“You do that.” Sirius chortled. Andromeda and Tonks proceeded to make their way through the floo leaving Sirius, Remus, Harry and Hermione alone in the kitchen.

Sirius returned to sit at the table next to Lupin. Harry seemed to be, understandably, in a bit of a daze.

“Harry, I need to ask, because technically we didn’t earlier when we came to get you but, are you okay with the fact that you’ve left your Aunt and Uncle’s? I know we briefly chatted about you coming to live with me before Moony here went all wolfy on us, but if this is too much and you want to go back there, we can do that. I’m sorry, I should have asked sooner.”

Hermione wasn’t entirely surprised by the question, it had crossed her mind that it was slightly presumptuous of them to have rocked up at Privet Drive assuming that Harry would just pack up and leave with them, but Harry hardly let Sirius finish before he was confirming that, yes, he very much wanted to stay with his godfather and never return to the Dursleys. It was the answer Sirius needed, his features relaxed and his face morphing into a tremendous smile.

“Brilliant. This is going to be so much fun!”

“Gods,” Remus muttered to Hermione, mirth in his eyes, “I’m beginning to wonder if this was such a great idea.” Sirius had a mischievous look on his face and Harry’s was matching it. Hermione could understand the concern, the two looked like children who had just been let loose in a candy store. When she thought about it though, the analogy seemed fitting; in many ways they both had. Both now free to live their lives as they wanted.

“I’m sure you can keep them in check,” she joked back, taking a quick look at her watch. It was quarter to nine. Remus noticed the movement and stood from the table.

“I believe it’s time to get you back to your parents Hermione.”

“Yes, I’m sorry, I wish I could stay longer but they’re expecting me…” she was cut off from finishing her sentence by two arms wrapping themselves tightly around her body. “Harry! You’re going to cut off my circulation!” she giggled.

“We’re going to talk about this more and you’ll explain everything yeah?”

“Yes. I’ll tell you everything,” she rolled her eyes.

“You’re the best, you know that Hermione?” he added, squeezing her a little bit more before releasing her. Sirius took his place, pulling her into his chest, one hand on her back and the other cradling the back of her head. He smelt of sandalwood and spices.

“Harry’s right, you’re a wonder Hermione. Between what you’ve done tonight and blasting me out of that cell in the astronomy tower, I think I might just owe you a life debt.”

“I’ll remember that,” she replied with a small tilt to her lips, eyeing down the man in front of her.

“There’s definitely Slytherin in you…” Hermione smirked to herself. The hat had been fifty-fifty when it had been deciding where to place her, Gryffindor or Slytherin. She had willed it to place her in Gryffindor, having read before arriving at Hogwarts that Salazar’s house probably wouldn’t be the best option for Muggleborn; the hat had finally conceding to her manifestation.

Her Professor stepped up next, “I’ll escort you home. Needless to say, I think you’re wonderful Hermione.” He placed an arm around her shoulder ready to apparate.

“Oh,” she stopped him before he could spin them away, “where are we by the way? I gather we’re in London?”

“We’re in Kensington.” Sirius answered.

“Really? I can easily come visit then! If that’s okay with you of course? It’s not too many tube stops from where I am.”

“Kitten, you’re welcome here whenever you want. Night and day this house will be your home as well.” Sirius gave her a smile.

“Could… could you come by tomorrow?” Harry glanced at his godfather for permission, Sirius simply rolled his eyes indicating that Harry was asking a stupid question.

“I’ll be here tomorrow, I’ll get here for midday.” Hermione confirmed.

As Remus disapparated them away she saw Sirius pull Harry into his side, both the boy and the man breaking down together in joint relief.

Draco exited the floo in the entrance hall of the manor to the sight of his mother being held by his father. His father’s hand stroking through her hair as her chest heaved. Her sobs were echoing off the marble floor and through the halls.

“Shh.. shh now my flower,” Lucius hummed into her hair, rubbing circles into her back. Draco stood there awkwardly. Slowly her body stopped jerking and her breaths slowed.

“It’s all okay Cissa. You have them back.” His father lulled again. Narcissa took a deep breath, releasing an exhale that was sure and steady. She reached for Draco, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Family is precious. Remember that always.”

“Yes mother.” Merlin, Granger was annoying but in this moment he couldn’t help but be grateful for how happy her interference had managed to make his mother.

“Up to bed now, it’s been a long day and I expect your help tomorrow.” She had regained her composure. “Mipsy?” The family elf appeared at her side.

“Yes Mistress, what can Mipsy be helping with?”

“If you are available, I’ll need 4 elves to assist in the cleaning of a family home tomorrow. Could you put together a team? I’m afraid the house has been unused for a number of years, so it won’t be a fun task.”

“Mipsy will ask right away, would you like an answer this evening?” The elf could tell her mistress was tired and didn’t need hassling further tonight.

“Just let me know in the morning,” Narcissa replied, “I think it’s an early night for us all tonight.”

The elf curtseyed, leaving the Malfoy’s to ascend the marble staircase to their rooms.

Ted Tonks was home from work by the time his wife and daughter stepped through the floo. He was hovering over a pot of chilli he had put on ready for their return. As soon as Andromeda stepped over the threshold she made her way to the kitchen and sunk into her husband’s arms. Having received a patronus earlier in the day with scant but important details as to her whereabouts, Ted understood.

“He’s free. Narcissa… Sirius... I just… It’s… I have them both back.”

Ted rubbed his hand in circles on her back. Tonks hovered behind watching the scene for a moment before sneaking past, giving her Dad a quiet ‘goodnight’, grabbing a bowl of food and making her way to her room.

Sirius led Harry back through the downstairs hallway and up the stairs to the first floor.

“I’ll give you a proper tour tomorrow.” As they reached the first landing, lit only by Sirius’ wand, Harry began to take in just how big the house was. They passed a number of rooms before Sirius’ walk slowed and he opened a door to his left.

“This will be your room for now. You can pick a different room once we’ve gone through them all, if you prefer. I’m the next door down.” As they stepped into the space Sirius let out an exasperated laugh. “Remind me in the morning to ask when Cissa managed to get a look at the Gryffindor common room.”

Harry took in the space. A large king size four poster bed took up the left-hand side of the room, the bedding a maroon silk with a heavy brown throw at the end. Each side of the bed had matching dark wood bedside tables, one with a lamp and the other fully occupied by a large a lily plant. There was a large bay window on the far wall, framed by velvet, wine coloured embroidered curtains which contrasted nicely with the cream wood panelled walls. A dark gold velvet armchair was sat in the corner of the room. Although the floor wasn’t carpeted, exposed dark wood floorboards covering the majority of the room, a large Persian rug took up space in the centre of the room. Harry noticed a door in the far-left corner and wondered what was beyond. His trunk, broom and Hedwig’s cage were propped against an impressive mahogany wardrobe and a fire was lit in the large fireplace opposite the bed. Hedwig was currently stooped on the windowsill.

“Narcissa knows what she’s doing doesn’t she?” Harry snickered.

“That’s the understatement of the century… Do you think you’ll be okay here?” Sirius sounded nervous and Harry was quick to answer.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.” His reply was honest.

Sirius left him to explore his space and unpack his things, making quick work of the contents in his school trunk. He didn’t have much and it was an easy enough job to put all of his stuff away. Once he was unpacked, he decided to explore his room, quickly finding that the door in the corner of the room led to an extravagant ensuite. Narcissa hadn’t missed a trick here either, it was full of body lotions and soaps and elegantly decorated. It was how Harry imagined fancy five star hotels would look.

Now dressed in his pyjamas, Harry offered Hedwig a treat before crawling into bed and falling into the deepest, most blissful sleep he’d had in years.

Chapter Text

It was nearly 9am when Harry woke up. As he lay in bed it took him a moment before putting on his glasses to remember where he was; he sighed back into the cushions. In the most cliché way he thought to himself, no, it hadn’t all been a dream. Glasses on he looked around the room in the daylight. It was surprising just how similar to the Gryffindor common room Narcissa had managed to decorate the space in the short time she must have been given. It was all dark woods, soft furnishings, reds, golds and browns. Harry had long considered Hogwarts to be his home more than the Dursley’s and, now he was living with Sirius, it felt fitting that his bedroom gave a nod to the Gryffindor tower. Swinging himself out of bed, he made his way to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day; with no alarm or person on the other side of the door demanding he wake up and make breakfast, Harry felt embarrassed that he’d slept so late into the morning.

Once dressed in a pair of jeans and a baggy grey tshirt, he exited his room and made his way along the upstairs hall, the smell of bacon and sausages leading him along the dimly lit corridor. Even during the day, the corridor felt ominous, the figures in the paintings on either side of the wall shifting as he passed. When he reached the staircase, he noticed that there was a further flight of stairs leading to a second floor. The staircase itself was ornate, with an elaborately carved, black wood bannister. A dark green and black heavily patterned carpet-runner covered the stairs, fixed in place by black metal rods on each step. Making his way down the stairs, Harry was horrified to realise that the wall displayed the mounted heads of numerous house elves, he kept as far away from the wall as possible as he proceeded down the staircase. As he took the last step he stood on a particularly creaky floorboard, the sound reverberating around the space. Harry jumped as heavy maroon curtains flew open on the wall next to him, to reveal a large painting of a stern, pointed face witch who promptly began shouting,

“BLOOD TRAITORS! DISGRACE TO THE HOUSE OF BLACK. SCUM AND FILTH BRINGING SHAME TO OUR HOUSE!” Harry stood in shock as the witch continued her tirade. Sirius charged towards him, flinging a spell at the painting, closing the curtains on the woman and shutting her up.

“I see you’ve met my mother, a delight of a woman as you can tell.” He threw an arm around Harry.

“Sorry, the floorboard… Sorry.” He muttered, still shocked at the sheer volume of abuse that the painting had managed to land before being silenced.

“Nothing to apologise for Pup.” Sirius tousled Harry’s hair, “Knowing her, she probably made that floorboard creaky on purpose just to taunt us all from beyond the grave. It’s one of the first things I’ll have Narcissa look into when she arrives, but Remus seems to think we’re going to need to hire a professional to remove her. Now, did you sleep well?” He began leading Harry down towards the kitchen.

“Amazing. It was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages. Sorry for sleeping in.”

“Harry, it’s only 9.30 on the first day of your summer holidays, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t surface until Hermione arrived. Again, nothing to apologise for.”

Professor Lupin was sat at the kitchen table, studying the Daily Prophet. He was wearing a pair of navy checked flannel pyjamas; it was jarring to see his Professor in such a casual get up, and more so to realise that he had stayed over. Harry hadn’t thought about where the professor would be staying when he had left with Hermione last night. Glancing at Sirius he realised that he too seemed to still be in his sleep clothes, black cotton pyjama bottoms and a white vest stop showcasing all of his tattoos. Harry suddenly felt silly for feeling the need to rush out of bed and get dressed.

“Morning Harry, sleep well? Kreacher’s just getting breakfast ready, but there’s coffee on the table.” His professor set the newspaper down and indicated to a pot of coffee and mugs in front of him; Harry took a seat on the bench opposite.

“Morning Professor, um yeah, coffee would be great.” His teacher began pouring him a mug and placed it in front of him along with a small jug of milk.

“No need for the ‘Professor’ Harry, I’m not your teacher anymore. Feel free to call me Remus. It’s what I’ve told Hermione as well.”

“Oh, um, thank you Remus.”

Sirius clapped him on his back before taking a seat beside him.

“Cissa floo-called to say that she’d be coming over at 11 to start on the house and I’m expecting to hear from Lucius at some point today, but apart from that we have no plans. The world is our clam shell. I’ll give you a proper tour of the house after breakfast.”

“Oyster, Sirius.” Remus chuckled.

“For breakfast? Far too rich for me. I didn’t realise you had such decadent tastes Moony.” Sirius winked.

“Gods, you’re ridiculous.”

Harry was laughing as Kreacher began setting down plates of sausages, eggs, bacon and cooked mushrooms in front of the trio. A rack of toast appearing alongside the rest of the food.

“Kreacher did not know what Mister Potter liked, so has made Master Sirius’ favourites. If Mister Potter lets Kreacher know, he will make it tomorrow.” The cranky house elf seemed to be struggling to keep his tone pleasant.

“Thank you Kreacher, this is great. I don’t need anything special.”

The elf moved away mumbling to himself.

“He’s coping with this far better than I expected him too, miserable old git.” Sirius said through a mouthful of sausage. “Little bugger hated me when I was a child so I’m sure he’s just overjoyed to find that I’m his master.” He seemed to find the whole situation very amusing.

“Kindness will go a long way I think.” Remus spoke, raising an eyebrow at Sirius. It was a face that Harry had seen many times in the defence classroom.

“Yes, yes, I’ll be nice to the cretin.”

Breakfast was a pleasant affair. Remus and Sirius telling Harry stories about their time together at Hogwarts with his father, strategically leaving out any reference to Pettigrew in their tales. A number of times Remus bookended a story with a disclaimer that, as an adult and ex-teacher, he couldn’t endorse their behaviour. Harry enjoyed absorbing the information about his father, storing away facts and filling gaps in the version of the man he had concocted in his head. Once the plates were cleared, Sirius and Remus left to get changed before joining Harry at the front door to begin a tour of the house.

The first door they reached was to their right, Sirius explained that it led to a study that was currently warded shut, apparently his father didn’t trust anyone beyond his wife to enter the room. To the left was a large wood framed archway that revealed a drawing room. It was apparent that Narcissa had already started to work on the space, which now housed two low cream chaise lounges facing each other, a coffee table placed in between. A ludicrously large fireplace was on the far wall facing them as they stepped into the room, ceiling height bookcases stood on either side and a large gilt mirror hung above the mantelpiece. The walls were made of dark wood panelling, however the wall immediately to their right was covered by an expansive tapestry, the Black family tree embroidered into the fabric. Harry spotted the sections where Sirius and Andromeda should have been, charred holes in the fabric. Next to Sirius’ hole was a portrait of a young man with similar black hair and steel grey eyes.

“I hadn’t realised you had a brother until Andromeda said last night. What happened to him?”

Sirius turned to leave the room, uncomfortable with the topic, “Voldemort happened. He followed in my parent’s footsteps and died at some point during the war.” Harry could tell that was all Sirius was going to say on the subject, which was confirmed when Remus caught his eye, shaking his head to indicate that it wasn’t worth pursuing.

Continuing the tour, Sirius showed Harry into a large library, full of dust and the rustling of creatures. The state of this room alone made Harry understand why Narcissa was bringing more elves. There was also a substantial dining room with a table large enough to seat 20. His favourite room on the ground floor though had to be the sunroom stretching along the back of the house. The ceiling was domed glass and floor to ceiling windows ran across the entire back wall, exposing a patio with steps leading down into an overgrown walled garden beyond. The room was the first one that Harry had entered into that was bathed in light; the rest of the house seeming to be in perpetual darkness, the sun unable to penetrate the windows due to the thick layers of grime covering them. The light had won the battle in the sunroom however, revealing black and white marble flooring, a grand piano in the corner of the room and numerous plants. A number of wicker chairs and sofas were scattered around the room centring on a low, white, round, marble table.

The tour of upstairs didn’t take long, the first floor primarily made up of bedrooms, including his own and Sirius’. Harry didn’t miss that Sirius’ skimmed past a room with a sign on it reading ‘R.A.B’, simply mumbling that the room wasn’t used. On the second floor of the house there were even more bedrooms, along with a potions room and music room. They were about to head up to the attic when Sirius stiffened, alerted to the arrival of Narcissa by the wards.

“The attics pretty boring anyway, it’s just full of antiques,” he shrugged as they proceeded back down the stairs to greet Narcissa, all three skipping the floorboard on the bottom step.

Narcissa was already setting a team of house elves to work when they got to the kitchen, instructing them on the rooms that were priority to clean first; essentially the majority of the downstairs.

“Good morning Cissa,” Sirius gave her a light peck on her cheek.

“Good morning Sirius, Remus. Harry dear, was your room to your liking?” She moved towards him and placing a hand on his head in an attempt to smooth his hair down.

“It’s amazing, thank you so much Mrs Malfoy,”

“Narcissa, darling” she scolded. “You’re practically family now.”

There was a scoff behind her and Harry realised that Malfoy was standing there, he was wearing dark blue chinos and a black Henley.

“I’ve brought Draco along, I thought he could keep you company for a bit while us adults deal with some of the more… tricky… objects in the house.” During the tour Sirius had explained that a number of items owned by his parents were extremely dark and likely cursed; Harry had been given strict instruction not to touch anything in the next few days without checking with Sirius or Remus first. Malfoy looked less than pleased by the fact that he had been dragged along and Harry wondered just how much his mother knew about their relationship at school to be so misinformed in thinking that they’d be able to stand each other’s company.

“Malfoy.”

“Potter.”

Narcissa clapped her hands, seemingly ignoring the tension between the two teenagers, “Wonderful! Now head through to the sunroom, I noticed it didn’t look so bad when I was here yesterday.” She ushered the two boys from the kitchen.

Once in the sunroom Malfoy appraised one of the sofa’s before casting a quick scourgify on it and stretching himself out across the entirety of the sofa, his head resting on the arm, his eyes closed.

“We can’t do magic outside of school Malfoy, what are you playing at?”

“Honestly Potter?” Malfoy looked at Harry who was standing defensively. Harry looked at him to continue. “Uh.... all ancient houses like this are normally so layered in protective warding that the trace can’t pick up on the use of underage magic due to the amount of magic surrounding the properties. I took a punt on this place being the same.” He sounded bored.

Harry hesitated, looking at a chair on the other side of the table to where Malfoy had set himself up, before pulling out his wand and casting a cleaning charm on the seat. He sat, suddenly feeling awkward.

“I didn’t know.” He muttered.

“Clearly…” Malfoy drawled.

They sat without talking for what felt like a lifetime. They could hear the intermittent sound of banging and Walburga Black’s shouts as the adults began work on the rest of the house.

“She sounds charming. Does she ever shut up?” Malfoy huffed.

“Not if she can help it by the sounds of things. Sirius says her painting is spelled to be irremovable. He wants to get a cursebreaker in to get the portrait off the wall… among with dealing with other things in the house.”

“Hm.” Malfoy simply replied, before breaking the silence again, “He seems like a decent guy. Sirius that is. It’s a miracle that he’s still sane after spending that long in Azkaban.”

“Yeah he’s great. Remus thinks that he managed it partly by staying in his animagus form and partly by holding onto the fact that he was innocent.” Harry offered in reply. Neither boy said anything for a few more minutes.

“So, Potter, what quidditch team do you support?” Harry was thrown by the question. Was his school nemesis really making small talk with him?

“Look Malfoy, I don’t know what your game is…” He snapped.

“Fucking hell Potter. Don’t get your wand in a knot.” Malfoy sat himself up, swinging his legs round so that he was facing Harry directly. “My mother asked me to play nice, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she’s over the moon at having Sirius back in her life. I’m not going to fuck that up for her by being a dick to you.”

Harry scoffed, “Never stopped you before.”

“Yes, well, it’s been brought to my attention that I was acting on some false pretence that that’s how I was expected to be.” Harry was surprised at his honesty. “I’ll also remind you that I offered you friendship in first year and you turned me down.”

Harry thought back to that moment on the train when Malfoy had first introduced himself; he could admit that his opinion on the boy was heavily influenced by Ron’s reaction to his presence.

“You didn’t exactly make a great first impression. If I remember rightly you insulted Ron within seconds of entering our carriage.”

“I do have some level of taste.” Malfoy smirked.

“Hey! He’s my best mate.”

“Yeah, well your best mate has a temper problem and comes from a family who have a disregard for wizarding morals. The thug grabbed Granger so hard last night that I’m sure she’ll have woken up with a bruise. Excuse me if that, among other reasons, means he isn’t someone I care to associate with.” That took Harry by surprise, he hadn’t even realised that Ron had been involved in yesterday’s activities and he was shocked to hear Malfoy using Ron’s treatment of Hermione, of all people, as grounds for why he disliked him.

“What do you mean?” He knew that Ron could be quick to fly off the handle.

“Let’s just say Weaselby was less than impressed that Granger had reached out to my family instead of his and decided the best way to approach the situation was to manhandle her.” He levelled an accusatory stare at Harry, as if challenging him to tell him he was lying.

“I’ll speak to him.”

Malfoy just huffed.

“Anyway, we’re both here, and my Mother would like us to be civil. So, I repeat, what quidditch team do you support?” Malfoy slumped back into the chair.

Harry sat back as well, “Puddlemere United. Oliver Wood’s just been recruited as a reserve player now he’s graduated.”

“Same.” Malfoy replied, and the two spent the next half an hour making stilted small talk about quidditch and discussing the upcoming World Cup. Harry wasn’t familiar with any overseas teams or players, so he found himself becoming extremely engaged as Malfoy explained which international teams were considered the best. Harry suppressed a chuckle when Malfoy began talking about a seeker called Victor Krum; the blonde was unable to hide his admiration for the player. Harry was just beginning to explain a quidditch play Fred and George had told him about that he was keen to test with the Gryffindor team when Sirius, Remus and Narcissa entered the room followed by Hermione.

Hermione was wearing a short black denim skirt, some leather strappy sandals, a Sex Pistols band t-shirt and a leather jacket. Malfoy’s eyes almost bugged out of his face at the sight and Harry was equally as flabbergasted. This didn’t look anything like the witch they knew at school. Sirius was looking at the girl with a face full of pride and admiration and Remus was looking at him in turn, thoroughly amused.

“I think this witch might be quickly becoming one of my favourite people. Harry you need to up your game.” Sirius joked. Hermione rolled her eyes before heading over to Harry to pull him into a hug. Malfoy watched her. Was this muggle fashion? Her skirt was shorter than the ones the girls wore at Hogwarts. Even shorter than the skirts the girls who were actively trying to push the school rules to the limit wore and they normally wore thick tights or socks covering their legs. Granger’s legs were completely bare and Malfoy noticed they had a light tan to them. His mother coughed lightly, and he caught her eye, realising that she had seen him staring. His cheeks flushed at the idea of being caught ogling the witch. It was just a culture shock, he told himself, that’s all.

“We’re making good progress,” his mother announced to the room. “Kreacher is preparing some lunch. If we all chip in, I think this room can be cleaned sufficiently before it’s ready.”

The adults separated into different areas of the room, and Malfoy stood to join them in ridding the room of residual dirt and grime. Granger looked shocked when he pulled out his wand, a similar look on her face to the one Harry had given him.

“Potter, explain.”

Once Harry had explained to Hermione that they were able to use underage magic in the house, an explanation that took longer this time due to Hermione’s constant interjections that had eventually meant that Narcissa needed to step in to provide answers, they all set to work cleaning the room. No sooner had Narcissa announced that she thought they had done enough than Kreacher arrived, hovering plates of sandwiches in front of him, as well as a tray holding a pitcher of lemonade and glasses.

They all reconvened around the marble table, taking their seats and tucking into the array of sandwiches. Before sitting, Harry took in the room again. They’d made a vast amount of difference, the room even brighter now the glass had been thoroughly cleaned, light bouncing off the floor tiles. He wondered what state the other rooms were in. While they were eating, Hermes appeared at the window bearing a letter addressed to Sirius. Letting the owl in and giving him a bit of ham from his sandwich, Sirius quickly scanned the letter. “It’s from Lucius confirming that the Wizengamot hearing will be tomorrow morning at 11, we’ll all be expected to be in attendance. Hermione that includes you as well, as you provided your memories as evidence. I expect Ron will be being contacted.”

“Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem.” Harry noticed that Hermione sounded slightly nervous. Based on what Harry had been told last night it seemed highly unlikely that Fudge’s original pardon would be overturned so her reaction didn’t seem fitting, until he noticed her rubbing her forearm. Malfoy had noticed the action as well, levelling a stare at Harry and pulling an ‘I told you so’ face. So, Harry thought, her nerves are about Ron. He didn’t do a very good job of concealing a frown. Malfoy looked smug at being proved right.

Once they’d finished with lunch, Narcissa and Malfoy left, leaving the elves to continue with the majority of the rest of the cleaning unsupervised. Before leaving however, she had announced that she would be coming by in the morning, before the hearing, with outfits for them all. Apparently, she’d appointed herself in charge of their wardrobe as well as interior design. As she left she had given Sirius a light pat on the cheek, “Can’t have you turning up in your muggle rock aesthetic dear, you’d look more like a criminal than you did when you escaped Azkaban.”

With the Malfoy’s gone, Sirius and Remus left Harry and Hermione to their own devices, which first involved Harry giving her a condensed version of the tour Sirius had given him as they moved back through the house before he finally led her to his bedroom. Dragging her to the bed, they both moved to sit cross legged in front of each other, Hermione pulling a tasselled throw cushion into her lap and playing with the strands of cotton.

“So, this was the ‘good thing’ you wouldn’t tell me about huh?” Harry started.

“I just wanted to it be a success before telling you. I didn’t want to get your hopes up if it all fell through.”

“That, I get, but I don’t really understand how you landed on the Malfoy’s as being your best bet. Why isn’t Dumbledore here?”

“Did you know that after Fred and George flew their Dad’s car to rescue you from the Dursley’s last year, I went to Dumbledore?” her head was hung and she was wrapping a strand of cotton round and round her finger, “I know you never said anything, but I picked up that things weren’t great at the Dursley’s and hearing what the twins said about bars on your window, that… that wasn’t okay. So, I went to Dumbledore...”

It hadn’t crossed Harry’s mind that someone would advocate for him. Let alone that that person would be a girl only 12 years old at the time.

“He didn’t do anything. That just felt so… wrong. And then with everything with Sirius and finding out he was innocent... It just felt so unjust that he was going to go on the run again and I couldn’t understand why Dumbledore didn’t just tell Fudge what we’d told him. I just didn’t get it. At first I reasoned that Dumbledore asking us to help Sirius escape was just a means of buying him some time so that he could speak with the Minister properly. But then, when in the days afterwards, there was nothing in the Prophet clearing Sirius’ name, I figured Dumbledore wasn’t going to do it. So, I went to Theo… I honestly didn’t expect it to turn out as well, or happen as quickly, as it has.”

Harry didn’t know what to think. Everything she’d said about that night they discovered Sirius was innocent was true. He realised he’d been so focussed on the grief of losing Sirius again, that he hadn’t questioned why losing him was the only option given to him. She proceeded to tell him that she figured that Dumbledore must have known that his parents swapped their secret keeper, him being the wizard in charge of doing the binding. He had sat in a quiet fury as she explained that he should have been placed in Lupin’s care and that technically, the headmaster had no authority to have made any of the decisions regarding Harry’s guardianship.

“I know I overstepped and made a lot of presumptions on your behalf.” Hermione was looking at him now, her large brown eyes shimmering as tears gathered, “I… I just didn’t want you to be sad anymore.”

“I’m glad. I’m glad you did it.” Harry had taken her hands in his. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“Yeah. I’m sure there’s other things too. Remus said yesterday that you should have gone to live with him after Sirius was imprisoned, but Dumbledore took over and placed you with your Aunt - he didn’t even tell Remus where you were! I hadn’t even considered until Narcissa said it, but, that wasn’t his choice to make, the wizarding world has the equivalent of Social Services. The ministry should have been in charge of placing you with the right guardian.”

Harry flopped back into the pillows, pulling Hermione to lie next to him, both staring at the ceiling. His life could have been so different.

“What do you think of the Malfoy’s?” he asked. He didn’t want to dwell on the what if’s just now.

“Honestly? It’s been so confusing. The way Malfoy is at school and the way Ron goes on about them, I figured they would be the definition of evil and I really didn’t expect them to even want to interact with me. But Narcissa has been downright delightful, Lucius has treat me with respect and Malfoy, well, I think he’s just as confused about the whole thing as I am. I don’t think he realised his parents aren’t as purist as he thought they were. I imagine it’s been a lot for him to wrap his head around.”

“Yeah, he was actually kind of decent today. We spent a while chatting about quidditch before you arrived. Apparently, his mum had told him to be nice. It wasn’t horrible.”

“Oh?”

“How’s your arm?” Harry asked innocently.

“Hmph. He told you about that then?”

“Yeah. Are you okay? I noticed you seemed unhappy when Sirius mentioned that Ron would be there tomorrow.”

“It’s nothing really.” Harry turned his head to look at her, clearly not believing her. “It was just an extreme reaction from him I guess. It took me by surprise. You know how he is though. I just don’t want things to be awkward tomorrow. He doesn’t understand that the Malfoy’s really were the most obvious option for the quickest outcome. I really hope he can see past that.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand tomorrow when he hears it from the Wizengamot.” Harry said, hoping that he was right.

They lay there for a couple of hours, discussing how they thought tomorrow would go, Narcissa’s decorating skills and about Hermione’s personal secret mission to infiltrate the Slytherin common room by giving Theo her muggle book and music recommendations. Harry told her about his plans for the summer now he was free to do what he wanted, and they listened to music on the Walkman Hermione had brought with her. It was the most relaxed Harry had felt in years, outside of being at school. When it reached 3.30 Hermione got herself ready to leave, having to make the tube journey back. Exiting Harry’s room, they were both shocked to find that the corridor had received a complete face lift; the pictures had been removed and the top half of the wall was covered in a cream and gold William Morris print wallpaper, the lower half made up of mahogany panelling. A long wine-coloured carpet runner now replaced the dark musty carpets that had been there before. The entire space looked inviting and warm. Heading down the stairs Harry was relieved to see that the mounted house-elf heads had also gone.

Instructing Hermione to skip the bottom step of the stairs, Harry followed the sound of Sirius and Remus’ voices to find them in the front drawing room. They were both sat next to each other on the sofa, Sirius’ arm draped around Remus’ shoulders.

“You alright pups?” Sirius asked as they entered the room.

“Yeah, Hermione’s going to get off.”

“Oh, you don’t want to stay for tea?” Remus offered.

“No, thank you, my parent’s will be expecting me back soon. I’ll be over tomorrow morning though.”

“I’ll apparate you back.” Remus was standing now.

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Hermione, it’s as easy as breathing, takes minutes and saves you trekking around the underground. Also, my teacher head is kicking in and is telling me that maybe I shouldn’t be letting a fourteen-year-old walk around dressed like that.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “This is perfectly acceptable in the muggle world.”

“I do have to ask,” Harry piped in, “where has this personality transplant come from?” he gestured at her outfit.

“It’s not come from anywhere. This is how I tend to dress when I’m at home. I just realised once I got to Hogwarts that I had enough of a beacon above my head being a muggleborn, that adding in dressing like this at the weekends would have properly put a target on my back. I didn’t need the hassle.”

“I, for one, very much approve.” Sirius was stood now, “Sex Pistols fan?”

“Definitely. Mum and Dad were big into them when they were younger. You wouldn’t think it to look at them now though.”

“First time we saw them was in ’76 wasn’t it Moony? They’d just began to gain traction and were supporting Eddie and the Hot Rods. I remember Prong’s projectile vomiting all over the bouncer’s feet.”

“At the Marquee? Godric, getting you both back that night was a task. Lily was fuming.”

“You used to go out to muggle gigs?” Harry asked, desperate now for more information.

“As many as we could during the holidays.” Sirius answered. Hermione smiled, she could tell he was already lining up a series of tales to tell Harry.

“I’ll put together a selection of cassettes of bands you’ve missed out on that I think you’ll like Sirius,” Hermione offered.

“I can’t wait kitten.”

“Right, come on Hermione, let’s get you back.” Remus held out his hand which she took happily. Holding hands with her ex-teacher had become a remarkably natural thing. She waved goodbye to Harry, confirming that she’d see him tomorrow morning, before Remus disappeared her away.

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon chatting with Sirius, asking questions about his parents. He learnt that Sirius had first met his father in Diagon Alley while they were both shopping for their first-year school supplies. James had apparently knocked into Professor Snape by accident while in Flourish and Blotts and, when he had gone to help the young version of Snape to his feet, he had received a torrent of abuse from the boy. Sirius had witnessed the whole thing and struck up a conversation with James afterwards. When they went their separate ways, Sirius quite literally being dragged off by Walburga, they had promised to sit together on the Hogwarts Express and Sirius said the rest was history. Remus had been alone in the compartment they chose to sit in, and they had all quickly struck up an easy friendship. Peter had joined the group last, a result of them being in shared dorms.

Harry was surprised to learn that his mother was best friends with his potions professor when she first arrived at Hogwarts and, as a result of the already established rivalry between the Marauders and Snape, had no time at all for James. He didn’t like to think of his parents disliking each other. Remus was quick to establish that she was probably justified in her hatred due to the number of pranks and taunts they threw Snape’s way. Harry could tell that, while Sirius still seemed amused by their misadventures, Remus wasn’t quite as comfortable with their teenage exploits. Harry still hated Snape, but the way Sirius gleefully told tales of making his life a misery, and the way Remus showed remorse for their actions, meant he found himself feeling slightly sorry for the potion’s professor. It’s little wonder he wanted to see Sirius locked up again, he thought to himself.

He far more enjoyed hearing the tales as they got to the end of his parent’s time at Hogwarts and the point that they had begun dating. He felt comfort in hearing about the gang of friends they had; the Marauders, and Frank Longbottom being the guys in the group and his mother, Alice Longbottom, and two other girls call Mary McDonald and Marlene McKinnon rounding out the gang. They used to frequent muggle London in the summers and spend weeks at Potter Manor, a place Harry had just learnt about and Sirius was keen to take him to once he formalised his title. Sirius’ face was a mix of joy and sadness as he spoke about the house, his relationship with Harry’s grandparents going beyond them simply being his best friend’s parents. Harry noticed a couple of times he had slipped and referred to them as Mum and Dad.

The entire group of friends joined ‘The Order’ after leaving school to take up the fight against Voldemort. Harry had questions about the mysterious ‘Order’ and what they all did during the war, but Sirius stated that those questions were best left for another day. Regardless, within the course of an afternoon Harry felt closer to his parents than ever before. Now he could picture them laughing, smiling with friends, celebrating Yuletide, joking around in class. He thought of his own friends and vowed to himself to do more, now he had the freedom, to reinforce his friendships to the degree that his parents clearly had. He was acutely aware that, due to the upheaval in his first and second year, and his effective imprisonment during the school holidays, he was not as close to as many of his housemates as he could be, tending to stick to Hermione and Ron for support. He was going to change that.

Chapter Text

Harry woke the next day to the sound of knocking on his bedroom door.

“Harry? It’s 8.30 and Narcissa will be arriving in the next hour. Kreacher has breakfast sorted downstairs when you’re ready.” Remus called through the door. Harry made a mental note that he had stayed over again.

“I’m awake,” he managed to croak out, his voice cracking as he used it for the first time that day. He heard steps as Remus moved away from the door and back along the corridor.

Knowing that he’d was being dressed by Narcissa once she arrived, whatever that would entail, he opted to stay in his pyjamas, chucking on one of Mrs Weasley’s Christmas jumpers over his pyjama top. Breakfast was much the same as yesterday, Remus reading the newspaper while Sirius prattled on about this and that. It was calming to find that neither adult seemed overly nervous about the upcoming hearing. Sirius took the potions sent over by Andromeda, each downed with an over the top grimace. Sirius had informed Harry that, after the hearing, he was planning on getting Andromeda to put together a schedule of potions for Harry; something he was trying hard to put to the back of his mind as he watched Sirius swallow a particularly gloopy looking concoction.

At quarter past 9, Narcissa arrived and proceeded to shoo Harry, Sirius and Remus up the stairs, handing each of them garment bags containing their respective outfits. Harry overheard Remus trying to assure Narcissa that she didn’t need to provide clothing for him as well, but he clearly didn’t win the argument, because he emerged in the front drawing room wearing a smart, dark grey, wool trouser and waistcoat combination, light blue shirt, a blue tie and dark grey matching robe. Sirius was wearing black trousers with a dark blue baggy silk shirt tucked in. His robes were also black, but the inner lining had the same blue colouring as his shirt. Narcissa had instructed him to slick his hair back into a low bun which he had done, securing it with a black ribbon. Harry was taken aback by the transformation; the young wizard struck an imposing figure in the drawing room and Harry wasn’t oblivious to the way Lupin was eyeing the man. One thing was for sure, he definitely didn’t look like someone you wanted to get on the wrong side of. Harry chuckled to himself, the Wizengamot wouldn't know what had hit it.

Harry himself was wearing dark navy suit combination with a light grey shirt, the robes on top a matching shade of blue. Narcissa was stood in front of him trying, and failing to flatten his hair and, as he took in the Malfoy mother dressed in a long, pale blue dress and robe, he realised that she was co-ordinating their outfits.

Hermione had woken early and decided to go for a run to try and burn off some of the nervous energy she was holding about today. The run was helpful but didn’t go anywhere near far enough in order to reduce the butterflies in her stomach. She showered and then had breakfast with her parents before they headed off to work. She had told them that she would be out visiting friends that day but hadn’t given the exact details of what she would be doing. It all felt a bit too serious to explain over breakfast.

Hey Mum, by the way, I’m attending a court hearing today to provide evidence to clear the name of a convicted mass murderer, didn’t seem like breakfast conversation.

Once her parents had left for work, she dressed herself in a dark grey spaghetti strap dress with a white tshirt underneath, pairing it with block heels and a black blazer. It wasn’t an ideal outfit, but she didn’t have much in her wardrobe that felt appropriate for the situation. She attempted to tame her hair slightly, keeping it down and loosely curled and pinning it back on one side with a kirby grip.

Lupin had insisted on collecting her when he had dropped her off the previous day and at bang on quarter to ten, she heard his knock on the door. Answering, she struggled to conceal her surprise at how smart he looked, his patched and worn clothing replaced with a smart suit and wizarding robe; the effect being that he looked far younger than the last time she had seen him. She had done the maths before and had been shocked to realise that he could only be around 34, but his entire demeanour while he had been her teacher had given her the impression of someone far older.

“Hermione, you look lovely. Are your parents at home?”

“No, they left for work around half an hour ago.”

“I see. In that case, are you ready to go or do you need a while longer to get ready?”

“No, I’m good to go. I’ll just grab my wand.” She hurried back upstairs to retrieve her wand from her nightstand. Once downstairs she locked the front door, placed her house keys in her bag and went to take Remus’ hand.

Arriving in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place, Hermione could feel the tension. Harry and Sirius were stood pacing from area to area in the room, both dressed in formal wizarding robes. Narcissa was sat a picture of poise; her expression was tort, but she seemed to relax when Hermione and Remus arrived.

“Hermione dear, it’s lovely to see you again.” The witch made her way over, giving Hermione a kiss on each cheek.

“You too Narcissa,” Hermione took a moment to take in how everyone was dressed, unsure whether she had judged her outfit correctly, “I hope I’m dressed okay, I wasn’t sure what the occasion required and I don’t have much in the way of wizarding robes beyond what I need for Hogwarts.” The sentiment was true, but she also judged that it would be a topic of conversation that would distract Narcissa from her thoughts for a moment or two.

“You look delightful, my dear,” Narcissa replied, holding her at arm’s length to get a proper view of her outfit, “Although, may I make a few tweaks? You may have noticed, but we’re all showing a united front today.”

Hermione looked around and realised that yes, all of the parties in the room were wearing some shade of blue.

“Of course, whatever you think is appropriate.”

Narcissa led her up the stairs to a room opposite to Harry’s. The room had a similar set up, but the walls were decorated in a light purple patterned wallpaper. The floor was a cream carpet rather than hard wood, and the furniture was a light oak rather than the rich mahogany in Harry’s room. It was surprisingly similar to Hermione’s own room at home.

Narcissa positioned her in front of a full-length gold-framed standing mirror and began taking her measurements. Hermione felt uncomfortable for a moment before Narcissa began asking her about her extracurricular activities in an attempt to distract her, or maybe to distract both of them.

“Well, I guess I’ve done all sorts. My parents were keen to give me the opportunity to try my hand at everything. I’ve attended ballet classes since I was 4 and I took on ballroom lessons when I was 8. I only stopped when I got my letter to Hogwarts, but I still love to dance if I get the opportunity. I started the cello, but was terrible at it, but I stuck at the piano, that’s my real passion. Recently I’ve been trying to teach myself guitar, but I’ve only been able to practice during the summers and Christmas break. Umm…” she struggled to think of what else she did outside of school, since attending Hogwarts she’d dropped a lot of the classes she used to attend, “I used to have a horse, River, but again, I had to stop riding when I started Hogwarts. My parents didn’t think it was worth the expense of keeping him considering I was away so much of the year; we sold him at the beginning of last year. I learnt French as a child, but I still attend French lessons during the summer - just to keep on top of it for when I go and visit my Grandmere.” It was the only extra thing she could think of. She wasn’t usually one to care much about other people’s opinions, but she couldn’t quell her desire to impress the Malfoy matriarch.

“You mentioned that you had a family home near Limoges? Do you go there often?” Narcissa said lightly.

“We always go for a couple of weeks during the summer and then alternate between going there or my Grandmere coming here for Christmas. We’ll be flying out to see her in a couple of weeks time.”

“Does she know about your schooling? I’m aware that the statute of secrecy can extend in some cases to additional family members depending on how the ministry deem the situation.”

“Oh yes! It was quite fascinating actually. She’d seen me do accidental magic a couple of times when I was small and we were holidaying with her but, until lately, my parents and I had just presumed that she’d just passed it off as a trick of the eye. Last summer though, she straight up asked if I was a witch. It was the bizarrest thing, and completely threw my parents. They didn’t know where they stood with the legality of confirming or denying it. My grandmere took our panic as confirmation and proceeded to explain that she had once encountered a wizarding couple, essentially taking the issue of the statute of secrecy out of our hands. She knew everything already.”

“How interesting. Did she say who the couple were?” Narcissa's face was pulled into a slight frown that Hermione wasn't sure was linked to her tale or just the woman focussing on making the finishing touches to her outfit.

“No, I couldn’t get it out of her, but I’m hoping to follow up our conversation this summer.”

Narcissa only hummed in reply.

“I think you are ready. I hope you don’t mind the changes that I’ve made. I can reverse them all when we’re done with the hearing.” She moved out of the way of the mirror so that Hermione could look at her outfit.

It was essentially the same, but her dress was now a dusty shade of blue and had thicker straps. Her white t-shirt was now a blouse with a peter pan collar and black piping. Her blazer had been transfigured into a black knee length cloak that finished just above the cut of her dress. Her ensemble looked similar enough to what she had been already wearing, but she now matched the rest of the household.

“It’s amazing.” She exhaled, unable to hide her approval at how she was now dressed. She felt like one of the models out of one of the Witch Weekly magazines Lavender and Parvati were always reading. “Thank you so much Narcissa.” She tentatively took the witches hand.

They stood hand in hand looking at their reflections in the mirror, their eyes meeting for a second.

“Well,” Narcissa announced, shaking off whatever form of emotion had begun to build, “Shall we head back downstairs?”

Hermione nodded and they returned to the gentlemen downstairs. The rest of the Malfoy and Black families were now gathered in the drawing room.

“Looking good kitten,” Sirius smiled as they entered, “I see you didn’t put up a fight to Narcissa’s meddling.”

“I know better than to fight a good thing,” she grinned back and Narcissa gave her an appreciative smile. Hermione wasn’t surprised to see that the Tonks family, Ted included, were all dressed in similar colours, although opting for lighter shades of blue and grey robes.

There was still half an hour before they were due to arrive at the Ministry and it was clear that no one knew what to do with themselves. Tonks’ hair colour was changing on an unsettlingly regular basis, Malfoy kept refolding his pocket square and Harry had cleaned his glasses more times than was necessary.

“Shall we ask Kreacher for some tea?” Hermione suggested, looking to the room. When no one immediately made to make the request, she called Kreacher, “Kreacher?”

The elf popped into the room in front of her, “Yes Missy, what can Kreacher be helping with?”

“I wondered if we could get some tea?”

“An honour Missy, of course,” he replied, bowing so low that Hermione was sure he would topple over.

“Thank you Kreacher.”

Once he had disapparated from his position in front of her she looked up to find herself the centre of attention. All of the adults in the room were looking at her with varying degrees of emotion. Narcissa and Remus were visibly shaken, Lucius looked unsettled and Andromeda and her husband were sharing looks of astonishment. But none of their faces compared to Sirius’ who looked downright gobsmacked. Her cheeks flushed; had she made some atrocious wizarding faux pas? Harry, Draco and Tonks had noticed the shift in the room and were all looking at their respective guardians. No one said anything until Kreacher appeared again bearing a tray of tea and biscuits. Narcissa pulled herself from her gaze, breaking the tension as she took people’s tea orders.

Once Hermione had taken her own cup of tea from Narcissa, avoiding looking directly at the witch, she sat herself next to Harry. Tonks joined them and Draco decided to perch on the side of the chaise. The adults all gathered together on the opposite side of the room in a deep discussion.

“What did I do?” Hermione whispered, trying not to bring attention to their conversation.

“I have no idea. I’m as clueless as you. But, whatever you did, it felt like all the oxygen was sucked out of the room and now all the adults are acting strange.” Harry stated. Although it was true, Hermione didn’t find the confirmation helpful.

“It’s to do with Kreacher.” Malfoy said, matching their quiet tones.

“But, what did I do? I just called him like Sirius does.”

“Yes,” even without looking at him Hermione could positively hear Malfoy’s eyes rolling, “but Sirius is Lord of House Black. Kreacher is bound to him. It’s not very often a house-elf will obey orders from someone outside of the family.”

“I didn’t know. I just did what I’d seen other people do.”

“You weren’t to know,” Tonks placated, patting her knee, “But yeah, it’s pretty odd. House elves tend not to take orders from anyone other than the family they are bonded to. And Kreacher seems pretty bias towards Walburga’s way of thinking. The fact he obeyed you is pretty freakish.”

“He called you ‘Missy’ as well. That’s ridiculously informal.” Malfoy added.

“What should I do? I didn’t mean to make things awkward.” Hermione was concerned now that she’d upset some sort of balance in the magics of the house by calling on Kreacher.

“I wouldn’t do anything right now, I’m sure you can ask Sirius about it later. He might have more of an idea about the bonds Kreacher is under?” Tonks added helpfully.

Yes, Hermione thought, I’ll just speak to Sirius after the hearing and ask him what was going on.

Tonks made attempts to lighten the mood by asking about her favourite subjects at school. Normally more than happy to discuss academics, Hermione found she didn’t have the enthusiasm. Malfoy took over some of the conversation, drawing the attention away from her, “I’m not sure Granger could provide you with a favourite class considering the swot insists on being the best in every single one.” He drawled. Although he’d said it in his usual Malfoy-esque tone, Hermione noted that it was essentially a back handed compliment. She tucked that away for another day.

“You’re just jealous that she doesn’t let you get near top of the class.” Harry answered, his voice was light and almost teasing.

“Yes well, I’ll just have to settle for being the best seeker in the school.”

“Pfft.” Harry made a weird noise, “As if.”

“I think that scars left your head addled Potter, Slytherin are going to trounce Gryffindor next year.”

The conversation continued in a gentle back and forth between the two boys. It was strange to see them having a, slightly tetchy, but essentially civil conversation. The extent of the teasing was light-hearted, and nothing like how they interacted at school.

Separating children into pre-conceived House really is a terrible idea, Hermione thought, Gods, if there weren’t houses at all would they have all been friends?

She thought about the girls in the other houses. She’d never really got on with her dorm mates but had found that she had quite a lot in common with Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin who she had been sat with in some of the additional classes she had taken this year. She seemed like a really lovely girl with a smart wit and hadn’t been nearly as cold to her as Hermione had expected, considering they were in opposing houses. She’d also taken to working alongside Padma Patel from Ravenclaw in the library, who, although similar to her twin sister in many ways, was far more interested in studying and always had interesting discussions with Hermione. Given the opportunity to foster those friendships, Hermione was sure that they would have become quite good friends, but the fact that they were in separate houses always felt like a barrier, returning to their separate common rooms for the majority of their life at Hogwarts.

“What are you thinking about Hermione? Not still dwelling on the Kreacher thing?” Tonks nudged her in the ribs.

“Oh no, just thinking how silly being sort into houses as a child is. It essentially forces your friendship groups doesn’t it? And feeds into a split into factions from such an early age. Even once people leave Hogwarts, they seem to wear their house as a badge that determines how people think of them. It’s just not like that in the muggle world.”

Tonks nodded, “I agree. Dad’s always said its silly, but then he’s muggleborn too. At least you’re a Gryffindor!” she joked, putting an arm around Hermione, “Hufflepuffs get such a bad rap. People seem to think we’re made out of marshmallow.”

“They really do don’t they!” Hermione began to laugh, “I’m sorry about that.”

Tonks began to laugh as well.

Lucius cleared his throat drawing everyone’s attention back to the matter at hand.

“We will take the floo to the Ministry in a few minutes but, before we leave, I thought I’d give you a run-down of what is likely to happen. As Sirius’ lawyer, I will do the majority of the talking. I do not anticipate it, but it may be the case, that the Wizengamot have questions for you.” He gestured at Harry, Hermione, Sirius and Lupin, “If you don’t feel comfortable answering any of them just tap your finger twice and I’ll take over. As I say, I don’t believe that it’ll be likely, given that they have Hermione, Ron and Lupin’s memories. It should be a simple overruling based on what the Minister has said. I am confident that most of the Sacred 28 will follow our lead, and any families not directly affiliated with our family were most likely linked to the Order and therefore knew Sirius in some personal capacity. I can’t imagine they’d vote against your innocence given the evidence to hand. What we cannot anticipate for however, is Dumbledore’s presence and what he may or may not say about Harry’s guardianship. It is legally binding so he doesn’t have any grounds to dispute it, but he may have something up his sleeve.”

Hermione frowned and observed Sirius and Lupin pulling similar expressions. Harry looked relatively impassive.

“On that note, I believe we should be making our way.” He held out an arm towards the fireplace, ushering each of them through one by one before bringing up the rear.

Chapter Text

On arriving in the entrance to the Ministry, they were greeted once again by Loxley, who quickly led them to the session chambers. They were shown to front row seats within the guest’s section of the gallery, while Sirius and Lucius made their way to a podium and two chairs placed in the centre of the auditorium. The room was dark and badly lit by torches. The tiered wooden benches on all sides of the room were occupied by the members of Wizengamot council wearing matching plum-coloured robes. The distinguished members had all been muttering to themselves quietly before the group had entered but grew silent as the entourage took their places in the stands. After a momentary lull the buzz began up again.

“My god, that’s Sirius Black!” Hermione heard someone cry out.

“Is that Harry Potter with the Malfoy family?” Another shouted.

“Fudge! What’s the meaning of this?”

Hermione looked around the room to see if she could recognise any faces. Ron was sat with his parents on a separate bench further along from them and she gave him a small wave when he looked their way. The Weasley adults were sharing similar looks of incredulousness at the scene before them. Ron gave an awkward wave back and gave Harry a thumbs up. Looking around again, Hermione spotted Amelia Bones sat close to Fudge’s seat and, remembering Remus’ lesson with the Boggart, she deduced from the vulture hat sat atop her head that the stern looking elderly witch to her side must be Neville’s Grandmother. Dumbledore stood out among the seated guests, his long white hair contrasting against his purple robes and his glasses glinting in the flickering light.  Quite simply, he did not look impressed. Hermione watched him for a while. As much as he seemed to focus his gaze on Harry, he kept glancing back to her. Each time his eyes turned to her she would avert her gaze, but more than once she managed to study him, trying to assess the expression on his face. She couldn’t make sense of it. It wasn’t confusion, maybe concern? Every so often Hermione was sure it morphed into fear.

Fudge called the room to order.

“My esteemed members of the Wizengamot, thank you for attending today at such short notice. I will cut to the chase. We are here today to formalise the pardon of Lord Sirius Black.” There was uproar among the stands, many witches and wizards jumping to their feet in protest. Fudge hammered his gavel numerous times before casting a sonorous spell on his voice so that his requests for silence carried over the ruckus.

“Two days ago, Acting Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, Ms Bones, lead Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt and myself were presented with evidence that unequivocally proves that Sirius Black did not betray the Potters. It also shows that he is innocent of the murder Peter Pettigrew and the innocent muggle bystanders killed on November 1^st 1981. We have been shown indisputable evidence that has meant that I have already offered him an informal pardon. We are here today only to officialise the acquittal.”

“You will forgive us, Minister Fudge, but are we to take your word alone? What is the evidence that you have seen that is so legitimate that you are convinced of his innocence?” Hermione didn’t recognise the wizard making the query.

“Quite right. We have been provided with the memories of one Miss Hermione Jean Granger and Mr Ron Billius Weasley, both of whom were present when Lord Black’s innocence was revealed and the true traitor to the Potter’s exposed. Peter Pettigrew is alive and gave a full confession to disclosing the Potter’s whereabouts to He Who Must Not Be Named in front of the teenagers on the night of the last full moon.”

There was pandemonium again. Hermione scanned the room trying to gauge where the reactions were coming from. There were a significant number of attendees who had not risen from their seats but were instead looking between themselves and, more often than not, at Lucius, who was stood beside an extremely composed looking Sirius Black. She could only presume these were Sacred 28 members who were likely looking to assess the position of the Malfoy family. Fudge hammered his gavel down again.

“Lord Malfoy, as Lord Black’s lawyer you are required to present your case for our records. Before you proceed, may I remind our members of the rules of the Wizengamot and allow the defence to put forward their case without interruption.”

“My thanks Minister Fudge.” Lucius began, his voice was commanding in the large space, bouncing off the hard-tiled walls.

“It has been brought to my family’s attention that, not only was Lord Black imprisoned without full investigation, but was also falsely accused. We are requesting a full investigation into how my client was imprisoned for 12 years without a full legal trial in front of the Wizengamot. Whether he had been found innocent or guilty at the time, the lack of trial is was an extreme miscarriage of justice against the House of Black, one that we will be pursuing reparations for.

Regarding his innocence, I have nothing more to say that cannot be answered by watching the live transcript of Miss Hermione Jean Granger’s memories, willingly given and verified by both the Minister and Auror Shacklebolt. We will, of course, be happy to answer any further questions following the viewing of the evidence.”

Hermione watched in awe as a screen materialised in thin air and the events of the full moon began to play out through her eyes for all of the Wizengamot to see.

Ron was holding his rat close to him.

“What’s my rat got to do with anything?” his voice panicked.  

“That’s not a rat,” Sirius had replied.

  “What d’you mean – of course he’s a rat –“

“No, he’s not,” said Lupin quietly. “He’s a wizard.”

“An Animagus,” said Black, “by the name of Peter Pettigrew.”

There were gasps around the room, but no one spoke abiding by Fudge’s rule.

Hermione heard her past-self whisper that both men shown in the memory were mental, as the image of Harry in front of her raised his wand against his godfather. Sirius had then tried to charge at Ron to get to Scabbers. Lupin was holding him back and demanding that he let them know the truth. Ron had tried to leave, Lupin forcing him to stay as he explained that he had seen Peter on the Marauder’s Map that night.

At this point however, her memory of events deviated. She knew that they’d discussed the fact that all of the Marauders had become Animagi in order to aid Lupin’s transitions each month, but the memory had seamlessly skipped to Snape barging into the room. 

The petty childish squabbles of the childhood enemies played out and she cringed as she watched Harry, Ron and herself disarm Snape, the power of their combined spell throwing the man against the wall of the Shrieking Shack. She saw her wand arm shake as she began to panic.

“Oh my god, we attacked a teacher… we attacked a teacher…” her panicked voice repeated.

She looked down at her hands in shame. Andromeda reached across Harry to grab her hand stopping her from fiddling with her dress. Hermione looked up to find the woman giving her a reassuring smile. A couple seats along Malfoy was looking at her in bemusement. She mustn’t have included attacking Snape in her retelling of events…

The Wizengamot were unsettled as her memories showed Sirius proceeding to explain how he had spotted Pettigrew in the Daily Prophet. She noticed that the Weasley’s present began to look nervous as the Sirius in her memory pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet cutting showing them all in Egypt. Hermione felt bad for them, they’d been completely oblivious to housing a mass murderer and turncoat for 12 years and she hoped that Lucius and Narcissa would see it in themselves not to leave them to the wolves. The memory played on until Lupin and Sirius reversed the Animagus transfiguration on Pettigrew and the man was revealed within the Shrieking Shack.

Fudge’s rules as to no interruptions were thrown out of the window. The room couldn’t contain its audible shock at the transformation. The Wizengamot watched as Pettigrew pleaded and lied and tried to convince Harry that Sirius was still in the wrong. When he approached Hermione to plead with her, his face inches from hers and his image shown large in front of the room, she recoiled into her chair in the same way she had done that night, and she noticed many of Wizengamot, women in particular, doing the same, shooting looks at her in sympathy.

And then it happened. They got to the moment that Hermione knew would mean Sirius would walk free,

“Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord… you have no idea… he has weapons you can’t imagine… I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant for it to happen… He Who Must Not Be Named forced me.” The man continued. “He was taking over everywhere! Wh-what was there to be gained by refusing him… You don’t understand! He would have killed me Sirius!”  

“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!” bellowed Black, “DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!”

Sirius’ words reverberated around the chamber and were met with silence. The memory cut off.

Lucius paused for dramatic effect. Letting the weight of what the members had just seen sit with them for a while before he continued.

“If the session would like, I can also show Mr Ronald Weasley’s memories of the same night which corroborate everything.” If Hermione hadn’t been watching him, she could have sworn the sentence was matched with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders.

“I will now proceed to show the events of Covent Garden, November 1^st 1981, provided by Lord Sirius Black, tested and verified by Ms Bones and Mr Shacklebolt.’

Hermione stilled and could feel Harry doing the same alongside her. The image on the screen changed.

Sirius apparated to a back alley and began to run through the streets of London. He made his way to a small flat positioned above a greengrocer, flinging the door open without care.

“Peter!? Peter, where the fuck are you?! It’s James and Lily!” His voice caught as he said their names, his hands obscuring his vision as he rubbed away tears.

Hermione watched as Sirius’ POV scanned the flat. Empty, cold… abandoned. There was a small scatter of paws against wooden floor and Sirius’ eyes darted to the open front door in time to watch a wormlike tail disappear over the threshold.

“You fucker. It was you…” he muttered under his breath before charging out of the flat and emerging onto the street, busy with morning commuters.

Pettigrew was stood there, bold as brass, shouting to all who would listen, “HOW COULD YOU BETRAY THEM SIRIUS?!”

Hermione cringed at the sound of mocking she detected from his voice. Sirius of the past’s eyes clearly widened in recognition of what was happening, before focussing in on the man in front of him.  

“How could you Peter? We’re your friends! They were your friends. Your family?! They were the best of us!”

“SIRIUS BLACK! WE ALL KNEW YOU’D GO BACK TO YOUR PUREBLOOD FAMILY. WHAT DID HE PROMISE YOU? Your wolf?” Pettigrew’s voice was taunting and scornful.

Hermione’s eyes flicked to Remus sat at the end of the row. His hands clenched around the wooden arms of his chair and his amber eyes trained on the screen, full of fury. She was surprised to see Narcissa reach out to place her hand on top of his.

In the blink of an eye, quite literally, the Wizengamot watched as Peter Pettigrew apparated to a space a few meters away from his original position and threw a Bombarda Maxima curse at the ground he had previously inhabited. Sirius’ eyes followed the man, and he watched as Pettigrew grinned back at him, placed his wand to his finger, severing the limb, and transformed into a rat before disappearing.

Sirius was on the floor then, staring at the chaos around him. Screams and rubble and sirens.

He didn’t move until the Aurors arrived, finding him in the same kneeling position.

“I killed them. I told them to swap… this is all my fault.”

“You’re with us Mr Black. Incarcerous.”

There was silence.

As the screen disappeared Hermione looked to where Sirius was still stood, his head was bowed, and his arms were braced on the podium in front of him.

Fudge stood, assessing the room, “That is the evidence we have been provided. Along with a supporting statement from Remus John Lupin.”

The silence in the room was deafening. The room was so still that Hermione felt like she could hear the air as it moved around the chamber.

“I will repeat that I have already offered Lord Black a formal pardon, however, for our records and for the first step in making reparations for the error of his imprisonment, I must ask the Wizengamot: All those in favour of pardoning Lord Sirius Black say ay.”

Hermione reached to find Harry’s hand in anticipation of the answer. Could this really be it?

When the room let out a resounding ‘ay’ Harry pulled her to her feet, his arms engulfing her in a hug. Narcissa and Andromeda were embracing, and Tonks was forcing a reluctant Malfoy to return her high five. Lupin sat with his head in his hands. Releasing Harry, Hermione went over to him, crouching at his side and resting her head on his shoulder. She didn’t know why she felt so comfortable approaching her former Professor that way, but it felt the right thing to do. He didn’t look up, but he took her hand.

“It’s done, Remus.”

Before she finished speaking, he pulled her from her crouching position into a hug that lifted her off the floor, by which time Sirius had bound up the steps to grab them both in his arms. Harry wasn’t far behind and pulled into the mess of limbs. Even though by this point her head was being thoroughly suffocated between Sirius and Lupin’s chests, she could feel the flashes of photography going off around them.

The congratulations and well wishes continued for a while longer among the Malfoy and Black group until Fudge called the room to order again and Lucius and Sirius returned to their places in the main auditorium.  

Fudge proceeded, “Peter Pettigrew is currently on the run. The Auror department have made him the wizarding communities ‘most wanted’ and are in the process of putting together a task force in order to track him down.” There were hums of support and the sound of people banging their fists in approval.

“Lord Malfoy, there was a second motion you wished to discuss?”

The room calmed once again.

“Not a motion Minister,” Lucius clarified, “Simply a formal recognition that, in light of his full pardon and restoration as Lord of the Noble House of Black, Sirius Black accepts, and has been accepted, as legal guardian of Harry Potter. This is as per his position as Mr Potter’s godfather and as directed by the terms of both Lord and Lady Potter’s wills. Mr Potter will, from this day forward, be living with Lord Black and under the House of Black’s protection.”

It was a statement, not a question, and many around the room were nodding in approval. She noticed that many of the members who appeared to have been deferring to Lucius earlier, were looking amongst themselves, before surveying the gallery and fully taking in the presence of the Malfoy and Tonks families, side by side. What Hermione hadn’t anticipated however, was that the Weasley figureheads looked aghast at the proposal. Surely, they should be happy Harry was going to stay with his godfather? They know what the Dursley’s were like, she pondered.

Dumbledore’s face was unmoved.

Fudge spoke with a dismissive wave of his hand, “There are no requirements for you to make such a declaration in our halls, being a family matter and one presided over by Gringotts.”

“Of that, I am well aware. But, as the status of Mr Potter is well renowned, for obvious reasons, Lord Black believed it best to provide the Wizengamot an update as to his current living arrangements. Especially given his previous placement.”

Lucius gave the last comment in a throw away manner, but Hermione could tell it had been given with the sole intention that it raise questions. Harry shuffled in his seat. They had known this might come up and Hermione knew it was going to be uncomfortable for him.

“His previous placement?’” Amelia Bones quoted back, quick to pick up on the cue.

“Yes. The house will find it a shock to discover that Harry Potter’s home life outside of Hogwarts has been a time spent with muggle relatives who denied magic existed until he was forcibly tracked down in order to receive his Hogwarts letter.”

“No?” “Who was he placed with?”    “Impossible.”   “Fudge is this true?!”

Lucius continued, taking no notice of the interruptions. Hermione was sure that they just aided whatever he was going to say next.

“Hogwarts records, I am sure, will attest to the fact that they were forced to send no fewer that 200 letters in order to reach him, the last being received on a remote island he had been removed to by his ‘guardians’ with the sole purpose being to avoid being contacted by Hogwarts. Thankfully,” Lucius drawled, “this was thwarted by the physical intervention of Rubeus Hagrid.”

Hermione wasn’t sure how he had got that information. Harry had told both Ron and her about how difficult it had been to receive his Hogwarts letter, but she wasn’t sure who else knew or who else would have willingly passed on the knowledge. Lucius paused for a moment, letting the audience take in the information before he continued.

“Harry Potter has been living with people who told him his parents died in a muggle car crash.” He paused again. The statement was received by the assembly by what Hermione could only imagined was his planned reaction; many were stood from their seats again, a number remained seated but in visible shock. He continued,

“He has been living with ‘family’ who kept him in dire living quarters and went so far as to physically bar his windows during the summer between his first and second year, prompting what can only be described as a ‘rescue’ by three of the Weasley children.”

Lucius was on a roll now.

“I can assure you, that the House of Black plan to lodge an investigation into how the ‘Boy Who Lived’ was left in such conditions for 12 years of his life, without regular monitoring by the Ministry. We have serious concerns as to how his placement with his muggle Aunt and Uncle was managed in the first place and who approved it.”

Hermione noticed that Molly and Arthur Weasley had grown even more uncomfortable and one glance in Dumbledore’s direction told Hermione enough; his face was calm, his demeanour composed, but his eyes were severe and his focus on Sirius and Lucius was unwavering. There was nothing that he could do, and he was hating it.

“I can confirm that the Wizengamot will support a full investigation as to how Mr Potter’s placement was managed.” Amelia Bones spoke up, a murmur of agreeance scattering through the hall.

“I have to object to the removal of Mr Potter from his current placement with his Aunt and Uncle.” Dumbledore spoke, rising to his feet. His voice carried across the chamber, clear and authoritative and a hush descended across the room. Hermione watched as Sirius flinched and Lucius made a movement with his hand and whispered something out of the corner of his mouth in his client's direction.

Before Lucius or Minister Fudge could query the Headmaster’s statement, Amelia Bones beat them to it.

“On what grounds would that objection be made?”

“His Aunt and Uncle can give him protections that are not available with Lord Black.”

Hermione could hear a couple of incredulous scoffs around the room.

“And what might they be? His Aunt and Uncle are muggles, correct?” Ms Bones pursued. She didn’t seem to be intimidated by Dumbledore’s presence and Hermione decided she liked this witch.

“That is correct. I believe however…” he looked strained at delivering the next part of his speech. He didn’t look to be giving up this information easily.

“…I believe that Lily Potter created a blood protection the night that she sacrificed herself to save Harry. A blood protection that is continued by his presence within the home of Lily’s sister.”

At this the room became extremely unsettled.

“You’re saying that Lady Potter used blood magic?” A melodic voice in the crowd asked. Hermione appreciated that the witch emphasised Lily Potter’s official title, picking up on the fact that Dumbledore had referred to her by her first name so far.

“Yes, Lady Greengrass, that is what I believe occurred that night.” Dumbledore’s voice was still composed and commanding. The fact he had deferred immediately to using official titles pleased Hermione and she could see Narcissa out of the corner of her eye smirking at Malfoy as they both caught the change as well.

“But is there any proof to it?” Lady Greengrass continued.

“Yes! What proof do you have to support your belief?” Another voice was added to the mix.

“I am unable, at present, to provide concrete proof, Lord Parkinson.” Dumbledore conceded.

The names of the parties questioning his theory definitely didn’t seem like a coincidence. Hermione decided that, either they had been planted or, they were simply taking their lead from Lucius in the moment. It was shrewd regardless; Hermione knew that both families were considered neutral in the first wizarding war and so could speak to both sides of the house.

“Lord Black, do you have anything to add to Dumbledore’s comments?” Fudge offered.

Sirius stepped forward, holding his head back and flicking some imaginary lint from the side of his robes, “And who, Dumbledore, do you believe those wards are protecting Harry from?”

He was turned away from Hermione, but she could tell that he was staring the Professor down. He held his gaze for a moment before swinging around to look at the body of the room,

“The Wizengamot should know that, had they turned up on the doorstep of Harry’s Aunt and Uncle’s house two days ago, they would have found my godson pinned to a wall, being strangled by his brute of an Uncle for daring to take his Hogwarts books to his room. I have nothing against Muggles, as many of you will know, and I probably have a stronger working of knowledge of blood wards and protections than many in this house. But, if the blood protections work as well as Professor Dumbledore believes, why has my godson been left malnourished and abused while living within those wards?” Sirius was practically shouting, his ire now directly aimed in the direction of Dumbledore.

“I would further say to the Wizengamot, that this,” he gestured generally to the room, “becomes a question, not only of the thought process behind Harry’s original placement, but the continued failures to carry out a duty of care for a child of our community. ‘Boy Who Lived’ or not, no child should have been abandoned to that situation.”

Lucius picked up where Sirius left off, “As I understand it, we have a fully functioning Department for Displaced Children. Their remit is to check up on children in the wizarding community whose social circumstances have been compromised, either by way of being orphaned or otherwise. We strongly question why they have not had any involvement Mr Potter’s case.”

Hermione felt Harry shrink into his chair. Both she and Tonks grabbed each of his hands in order to provide support. She hadn’t realised that so much would be exposed in the hearing and they’d already been made aware of the media presence. Dumbledore looked to the two teenagers, hands clasped, and recoiled back into himself for a second before composing himself.

Hermione was jerked out of meeting his glare as Narcissa leant across to Harry to place a hand on his arm, “Don’t worry Harry dear, we have made sure that none of this will be in the Prophet.” Harry smiled at her weakly. Of course, the Malfoy’s had swung something with the newspaper, it still didn’t stop the parents of his school peers and members of the wizarding elite knowing his situation.

Fudge was shuffling his papers, clearly put on the spot by the implication that the Ministry had so obviously dropped the ball. He didn’t seem to have an answer for why they hadn’t been involved.

More voices had begun to speak up questioning the validity of Dumbledore’s claim that Harry should stay with his Aunt and Uncle. Some were purely raising concerns about the image of the Wizengamot if it got out that the ‘Boy Who Lived’ was being mistreated, and others were fully endorsing the legality of Sirius’ guardianship.

“We would happily take Harry in,” Molly’s voice cut across the room. She was stood from her position in the audience gallery, Arthur rising to meet her and whispering in her ear. “He’s best friends with our son and has already spent a summer with us, I’m sure he would be happy.”

“And why, Mrs Weasley, would it be acceptable for you to take him in, in lieu of his legal guardian?” Lucius scoffed, apparently, he was done with pleasantries. “Mr Potter has a legal, willing, competent and financially stable guardian, in the form of Lord Black.”

“Someone he’s known for less than five minutes!” She retorted, her face growing red. Ron was trying to get her attention to make her sit down and Mr Weasley was continuing to say things to her that she was clearly ignoring. “Harry knows us and will have stability.”

“I ask again Mrs Weasley; Harry has a legal, willing, competent and financially stable guardian, chosen by both of his parents and, more importantly, accepted by Mr Potter. Why do you think it is more fitting that he stays with you?”

Hermione could tell that Lord Malfoy was goading Mrs Weasley now, trying to make her trip over something, but she didn’t know what.

“I.. I think I’ve said. We would be good for the boy.”

“Good how?” Lucius pushed.

“He’d be with friends.”

“I’m sure Sirius Black, of all people, isn’t averse to letting Harry having friends over,” Lucius derided and a number of people in the crowd chuckled, “I ask again, why should Mr Potter stay with you?”

“I….”

“Molly…” Arthur’s whisper echoed through the hall.

“I.. it’s… Fine, if not with us then he should be with his Aunt and Uncle as Dumbledore has said. It’s the blood protection.”

“I see. And would it be on Dumbledore’s orders that you are offering your home?”

“No, I.. of course not. We love Harry. He’s more than welcome in our house.”

“You are a pureblood, with knowledge of the old magics, yes?”

“Yes…”

“So… you know that any house held by the Black family is protected by wards contained in the Black family grimoires. Wards that are centuries old, founded on blood magic and have seen the family through multiple wizarding and muggle wars?”

“Yes, I know of your blood wards,” Molly sneered.

“How interesting.” Lucius let out a light laugh, “You seem to be trusting in the unconfirmed blood ward that Lady Potter supposedly enacted in order to protect Harry, but not in the blood wards of the House of Black. Apparently, if understand rightly, you would be happy for Harry to be remain under his mother’s protective wards, should they even exist, within an abusive Muggle home, but not to stay under the protection of the House of Black, where he would be secure by the Black family wards, let alone loved and cared for. Now, humour me. Why you would endorse and trust Dumbledore’s theory about blood wards that, to his own admission is based on speculation, and not mine based on well documented history?”

Hermione felt like clapping. Lucius had led Mrs Weasley right into his hands. The woman blustered for a few moments longer before sitting and beginning to snap at her husband. Taking a look at the rest of their party, Hermione saw Narcissa biting her lip to contain her pride and Malfoy easing into his seat enjoying the show. He had crossed one of his legs over the other, hands clasped in front of him. Both looked remarkably proud of Lucius’ display and she couldn’t blame them.

There was movement from one of the benches and Hermione watched as Neville’s Grandmother rose from her seat, the bird on her head precariously shaking with the movement. As she did so the room quieted. Clearly, she was a voice to be listened to. She rested on her walking stick to steady herself before talking.

“This conversation is over. Mr Potter should stay with his legal guardian and sworn Godfather. It is not a decision for the Wizengamot to make.”

She then sat.

Andromeda and Narcissa were staring at each other with wide eyes. Both Lucius and Sirius didn’t seem to know how to react, and Hermione was desperate to know why the endorsement came as such as surprise. The entire Wizengamot was shuffling and suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable.

Lucius composed himself before giving the elderly woman a deferring bow,

“Thank you, Lady Longbottom.”

Turning back to Minister Fudge, Lucius coughed, seemingly to steady himself, before he finalised,

“Minister, as you said when I first formally announced Mr Potter’s guardianship and living situation, this is a matter for family and not one up for debate. The announcement was given as a gesture of good faith. I do not believe anything else needs to be said on the matter.”

There were shouts of agreement from around the room.

Fudge gave a final hammer with the gavel.

“Quite right. Harry Potter’s guardianship is recognised by the Wizengamot. I’d like to thank all those present for their attendance. I can confirm that this emergency session is now closed.”

Lucius turned to shake Sirius’ hand, cameras flashing to capture the moment.

It was done.

Hermione turned to Harry who was now beaming from ear to ear and pulled him into another hug. In the main auditorium members of the Wizengamot were making their way to Sirius to shake his hand; many were offering apologies for not forcing a formal trial when he was first arrested, some seemed to be deferring to him as reinstated head of the House of Black. As they fawned over him, he adopted a persona that made him appear a head taller than them all, his jet-black hair and Lucius platinum blonde standing out among the array of witches and wizards. Narcissa and Andromeda were hugging and Ted Tonks had his arm around his daughter as he shook Remus’ hand. The energy and the excitement was palpable.

“Congratulations, Potter,” Malfoy’s voice broke Hermione and Harry out of their embrace, his hand was extended.

“Oh, thank you Malfoy,” Harry looked apprehensive but then took Malfoy’s hand in a hesitant shake, “and thank you for helping to set the meeting up between Narcissa and Hermione. Without that this wouldn’t have happened.”

“I’m not entirely sure Granger or Theo would have let me get away with not arranging it,” Malfoy tried to look disinterested, but Hermione could hear there was humour in his voice.

“Oh come on, I think we both knowTheo would have been worse than me,” she replied, “he would have had the benefit of making your life in the Slytherin common room unbearable.”

“I can’t even imagine…” he said it with a sneer, but his lip twitched at the side, clearly amused by the thought.

Was she joking with Malfoy?

“Harry’s right though. Thank you so much.” She extended her own hand. He looked at her oddly for a second before taking it. His hand was cold and hers felt small in his grasp. They didn’t shake hands per se, rather just held hands awkwardly in front of each other for a second before dropping their arms back to their sides.

“Don’t mention it Granger.”

“Ron!” Harry bellowed across the benches. Hermione’s eyes snapped to where the Weasley family were now stood. Ron was watching their exchange, eyes wide. Harry beckoned him over. Ron seemed to check with his parents, before making his way over to them both. By the time he reached them Malfoy had moved away to join his mother.

“Thank you so much for giving your memories as evidence!” Harry pulled their friend into a one-armed hug and clapped him on the back. His excitement was in no way waning.

“Uh, yeah. It’s not like they used them though.” Ron said gruffly, shuffling his feet.

“Yeah, but they clearly backed up Hermione’s! Without them Fudge wouldn’t have been convinced. You guys cleared Sirius.”

“I guess. I’m really happy for you Harry,” Ron’s face pulled into a slightly forced smile, his eyes flicked to the gathering of Malfoy’s and Black’s behind where Harry was stood, “So you’ll be living with Sirius now?” The question was genuine, but Hermione picked up on the underlying question, Are you friends with these people now?

“Yeah, he’s got me a room and everything set up in his family home. Narcissa is in the process of re-decorating the whole place, but she sorted my room first. It’s amazing, just like the Gryffindor common room! It’ll be great when you come around.” Harry was giddy with enthusiasm.

“Narcissa? You’re on first name terms with Malfoy’s mum?” Ron scoffed.

The light in Harry’s eyes flickered for a second, suddenly unsure of himself, “Well yeah, that’s what she said I could call her, and she’s done a lot to help Sirius…”

“Still, she’s a Malfoy.”

“Ron, I don’t think you want to…” Hermione tried to stop him from pursuing this line of conversation.

“Don’t want to what Hermione? Question whether its sensible to get chummy with a family of Death Eaters?” He’d lowered his voice in order not to draw focus to their conversation, but his general demeanour was garnering the attention of the rest of their group.

Harry tensed and opened his mouth to reply but Hermione butted in,

“Ron, this isn’t the time or place.” Hermione tried to diffuse the tension, “Let’s just be happy for Harry and Sirius.”

“Yeah,” Ron looked over his shoulder to his parents, who were stood talking with Dumbledore. Every so often they would glance over at the teenagers, the Weasley’s mainly focussed on their son, however, just like before, Dumbledore’s attention appeared to be split equally between Harry and her.

“I guess I should probably head off. I really am happy for you Harry, and for Sirius. Send me an owl when you’re all settled and we can do something. Would Sirius let you come over to The Burrow?”

Harry replied lightly, “Thanks man, yeah I’m sure he would. I don’t get the impression he’s the type to be a strict godparent. You could come over to his as well I bet, there’ll be plenty rooms once we’ve cleared the place. Hermione’s already got hers sorted.”

“What?” Ron’s eyes narrowed.

“That’s not my room Harry. It’s just another room Narcissa decorated.”

“Pfft, whatever, it’s a girl’s room and you’re the only girl Narcissa would think would be staying over.” Harry wasn’t catching the hint that this was not making things better between them and Ron.

“Doesn’t mean it’s mine,” she brushed off, “anyway, we should all do something soon, yeah?” Hermione tried to move the conversation on again.

“Definitely!” Harry pulled Ron back into a hug which was returned half-heartedly.

“Sure. I’ll um, expect Hedwig.” Ron gave Hermione a quick hug and then turned away to return to his family.

Harry looked to Hermione; his excitement had dropped, and Hermione felt sad that his moment of euphoria had been broken.

“Harry!” Sirius was stood behind them with his arms wide.

Harry barrelled into him.

“Come on Pup, we’re going out to lunch to celebrate.”

Sirius and Harry exited through the large double doors, stepping into a barrage of camera flashes and shouting journalists, followed by the rest of their entourage.

Chapter Text

The party made their way back through the Ministry, reporters tailing them as they went, heckling for an interview or comment. Remus had his hand on Hermione’s back, guiding her and shielding her from the jostles. Sirius had his arm slung around Harry’s shoulders and was doing the same.

“Lord Black! Will you be seeking compensation from the Ministry?”

“Harry, how do you feel now you know your godfather was innocent?”

“Mr Potter, what’s your relationship with Miss Granger?”

“Can we expect to see you in the dating pool Lord Black?”

“Are the Houses of Black and Malfoy regrouping?”

“Will you take up your seat on the Wizengamot Lord Black?”

“Salazar, they’re vultures.” Malfoy grumbled as they finally reached the fireplaces in the main atrium.

“I have the courtyard at the Copper Cauldron reserved for us. I think it’s best we gather there. I’m sure word of Sirius’ release has spread like fiendfyre, but I don’t think we should be making a public appearance in Diagon quite yet,” Narcissa was speaking quickly and ushering them all towards one of the large fireplaces. “Patrice has opened the floo in his office so that we can enter the establishment discreetly.”

“Thank you Cissa,” Remus said as their party began to filter through the green flame.

It wasn’t long before they were all seated around the same circular table in the courtyard that had led to their current celebrations, all holding glasses of champagne while Sirius stood ready to give a toast.

There was a light summer breeze, but they were mostly shielded by the tall brick walls surrounding them. The scent of garlic and onion was wafting from the restaurant kitchens and Harry could hear the dull chatter of shoppers as they went about their day to day tasks in the streets surrounding them. The sun was strong, bathing their table in light and creating rainbows on the white tablecloth as it bounced off the crystal cut water glasses scattered around the table. Harry took a look around; everyone was so happy. As Harry sat, enjoying the warmth and the energy of the people around him, it dawned on him that this was only one of a handful of times he had been taken to a restaurant. He pushed the thought to the back of his head. He wasn’t sad orphaned Harry Potter anymore.

Sirius’ face was beaming, his youthful complexion fully returned. Harry found that he was getting used to being in the Malfoy family’s company. Although still jarring, he realised that, putting aside the Slytherin vs. Gryffindor divide, his main discomfort was more to do with their wealth and mannerisms than ‘them’. Malfoy had been civil with him since their conversation yesterday lunchtime and their back and forth banter earlier in the day had been rather fun. When the House prejudices had been removed, it was honestly just harmless teasing. Harry wondered if that was all it had always been. The blonde was currently sat looking at his mother and father, his face settled in an affectionate smile. Narcissa and Lucius were seated next to one another their hands resting on the table, little fingers interlocked.

Narcissa had been motherly and kind. He hadn’t spoken much with Andromeda and Ted, but they had treated him as if he’d been part of their family for years. Tonks seemed like someone who would give the Weasley twins a run for their money, quick to laugh and easy with her company. All in all, it felt like something out of a movie. This could be his life now; it wasn’t the family he had expected, but this felt okay.

Sirius coughed dramatically to get everyone’s attention. He had shed his wizarding robes as soon as he had arrived and was now stood in his shirt and trouser combination, the silk shirt unbuttoned to his chest. Merlin, I’m living with a peacock, Harry thought to himself with a grin.

“I think it goes without saying that I am grateful beyond words for all of your assistance in enabling me to stand here as a free man. A year ago, seeing that photo in the Daily Prophet, quite honestly, all I could think about was killing the Weasley family’s pet rat. I hadn’t thought past that moment and I definitely couldn’t haven’t imagined this being the result. I’m going to be cheesy now, but Harry,” his godfather turned to face him, raising his glass,

“You have my deepest thanks for giving me the opportunity to explain myself in the Shrieking Shack and for saving me from a hoard of dementors. Your Mum and Dad would be so ridiculously proud of you, and I promise to be the best godfather to make up for the years I’ve missed.”

Harry beamed back at him, “You’ll be great.”

Sirius continued, “Narcissa, Andromeda… I know we have stuff to work through, but just seeing you in the same place together is a dream and one I’m not going to let go of again. I don’t want the Black cousins to ever be separated again like we have been all these years. We lost each other for too long.”

The two witches were trying and failing to hold back tears. Each reaching for their napkins in unison in order to blot their faces.

“Draco,” Malfoy appeared surprised to be addressed and Harry watched as his hand tensed around the glass he was holding, “I know you don’t know me, and had little stake in whether I was free or not, but thank you for agreeing to meet with Hermione and for getting this quaffle rolling…”

“It’s not like Theo gave me a choice, wand to the neck and everything…”

Sirius chuckled, “Sounds like my kind of guy… well I’m grateful to him as well, but you get my thanks all the same. Ted, Mini Tonks, I’m sorry that my jaunt in Azkaban has meant that I haven’t been able to get to know you, but I’m ready to change that. One of my first steps as Lord Black will be to re-inherit you, Meda. Moony, is that a word? Regardless, Andromeda, I want you part of the Black family again.”

Andromeda brushed away a tear, Ted pulling her into a hug. Narcissa also moved to her side, running her hand through the brunette’s hair.

“Lucius, we don’t see eye to eye and I know for a fact that there are a bunch of arguments that we need to have before I fully trust you, but your support today in the Wizengamot was invaluable. I also see how much you love my cousin, always have, and that instantly means I have to give you a level of respect…”

Lucius cut him off before he could go any further, “Stop with the sentimentality Black, no thanks necessary.”

“Whatever. I guess that just leaves a wolf and a kitten. Remus…” Sirius paused, placing the glass of champagne on the table in front of him as if to steady himself. When he looked up, Harry watched as the man’s grey eyes glistened and met Lupin’s gaze, “You know…? I think we might actually get to live a version of the life we used to dream of. I’m sorry that it’s 13 years later than planned.”

Harry watched as Remus took a breath, closed his eyes and composed himself before looking at Sirius again and nodding. He looked a mix of anguished and happy.

“And Kitten.”

Harry watched as Hermione buckled slightly under the attention, suddenly aware that everyone was looking at her. She shuffled backwards in her seat.

“We’re all here because of that brain of yours and your apparent strive for justice. I’ve already said it, but I owe you a life debt. Hell, I owe you all one probably!” Sirius raised his glass further into the air and everyone followed his example before taking gulps of champagne.

Sirius sat, taking Remus’ hand in his, running his thumb over the man’s knuckles. I have both of them, Harry thought, looking at the two adults. Sirius caught him looking and gave him a gentle smile.

Waiters appeared with sharing platters of French food. Soon the table was full of plates of chicken in white wine, fresh baguettes, asparagus in butter, sauteed green beans, and butter beans in a garlic and spinach sauce. It was nothing like Harry had eaten before; his dietary upbringing had been limited to Petunia’s meat and two veg British fare and Hogwarts’ reliance on stews and roast dinners.

As they began to tuck in, the conversation lulled until Hermione addressed Lucius directly.

“Lucius?” she hesitated over the use of his first name until he gave her a look that indicated she should continue, “Can I ask about the memories of mine that were shown today? I know a section of the conversation we had with Sirius and Remus in the Shrieking Shack was omitted. Was Minister Fudge aware?”

“Yes, Fudge was privy to the fact that a section of your memories had been retracted. In fact, I discussed it with him yesterday. I was confident that Sirius would be acquitted for the murder of Pettigrew and the muggle bystanders, however his admission in your memories to being an unregistered Animagus as a teenager would have offset our case.”

“I figured as much…” Hermione hummed, and Harry noticed Lucius’ face change into one of appreciation that she had concluded the same as him, “But, if Fudge is aware, isn’t there the possibility of Sirius being charged retrospectively?”

Harry hadn’t thought about that and his heart rate began to pick up. His eyes darted to his godfather to try and get a read on his reaction, only to find the man aimlessly flicking a green bean around his plate, listening impassively. He didn’t seem concerned.

“Fudge has agreed that, given the failings of the court system in Sirius’ original sentencing and the fact that his being an Animagus ultimately aided in the truth being revealed about Pettigrew, and that the information provided gives the Aurors additional knowledge in their hunt for the rat, that it would only be appropriate to let the teenage indiscretion of not filing the proper paperwork slide. I believe that the forms to formally register Sirius as an Animagus should be with the department by now.”

The way that Lucius spoke very much gave Harry the impression that the Minister hadn’t had a leg to stand on in refusing the request.

“I think I’ll miss the anonymity of being Pads,” Sirius sulked, finally skewering and eating the bean he had been playing with.

“If you think anyone was going to see your black, flea-ridden dog and think ‘Hey that’s Sirius Black’, your ego is definitely too large,” Andromeda chuckled.

“How did you do it? How old were you?” Malfoy asked and Harry watched as Hermione leant her forearms on the table in anticipation of the reply.

“We covered it briefly in Transfiguration this year, but it was mainly the theory and the laws surrounding it, not the practical of how you go about the transformation.” Hermione added. Malfoy was looking at her seeming to appreciate the back up to his enquiry.

Enjoying being the centre of attention Sirius began a detailed breakdown of the process.

“It was hard to do as 15-year olds. We had to restart the process twice because one, or all, of us accidentally swallowed the mandrake leaf.”

“I remember Marlene being very put out that your ‘sessions’ in the alcove behind the Defence classrooms were abruptly put on hold.” Remus smirked into his drink.

“Yes, well, storing a leaf in your mouth doesn’t go hand in hand with kissing witches… or wizards.” Sirius threw Remus a look and Remus took a large gulp of wine.

Sirius continued, “The meditation part was the hardest. Getting all of us to shut up long enough to ‘clear our minds’ was nigh on impossible.”

Hermione’s face was focussed as she listened, and Harry recognised her expression was the same as when she was studying. Uh, this is bad news, he thought. Malfoy looked remarkably similar, like he was trying to commit everything Sirius said to memory. Harry wondered what animal he would be if he ever tried to become an Animagus. Would it be a stag like his patronus and his dad’s?

“Did you get to choose your form?” he asked.

“I’ve always wondered that as well,” Hermione said, “Professor McGonagall said its innate, but I wondered if you could influence it in anyway, like a Patronus can be influenced by emotion, or the Sorting Hat can be talked out of decisions.”

“The sorting hat can be talked to?” Malfoy seemed surprised.

“Well, yeah. It’s pretty common.” Harry didn’t mean for his tone come across as condescending, but Malfoy looked affronted.

“It was hardly on my head before it announced Slytherin.” The blonde paused, “I always wondered why it took you and Granger so long to get sorted.”

Harry was surprised that Malfoy had given either of their sorting’s a second thought. Noting Malfoy’s dejected mood, he tried to lighten it,

“Yeah, stupid thing was adamant I’d do well in Slytherin.”

Sirius nearly choked on his drink and Remus had to hit him on the back a number of times to help clear his airway. The rest of the adults shared a look of amusement.

“Let me guess, it wanted to put you in Ravenclaw, Granger,” Malfoy turned to Hermione. His voice was teasing and Harry was happy that any tension had been eased.

“Well… yes, but nowhere near as much as it wanted to put me in Slytherin. It kept saying all sorts of cryptic riddles that I didn’t understand. In the end, I all but threatened it into placing me in Gryffindor but that very nearly went against me. The hat said that threatening it was ‘very snake like behaviour’,” Malfoy’s mouth was hanging open, as was Sirius’. Narcissa, Andromeda and Lucius were smirking, but Harry noticed Lupin had begun to look serious.

“You’re kidding right? You’re saying you could have been a Slytherin?” Malfoy was still shocked.

“Yes. But gee, imagine how much fun that would have been,” she deadpanned in reply. Harry chuckled at Hermione’s sarcasm.

“Yeah…” Malfoy said quietly having the decency to look ashamed. They all knew just how horrible Hermione’s life would have been if she had been a muggleborn sorted into the dungeon.

Breaking the awkwardness Tonks joined in, “I was Hufflepuff through and through. No question in the stinking hats head.”

“I was the same,” her father laughed.

“It suggested Ravenclaw as an alternative for me,” Andromeda contributed, “But I did the opposite to Harry and Hermione and forced it to place me in Slytherin. I couldn’t deal with the family’s wrath if I went anywhere else. We all know how that turned out for Sirius… But Cissa, do tell us where the piece of cloth considered placing you?” she had a devious look on her face.

“Traitor…” Narcissa hissed, before raising her glass of champagne to her lips, simultaneously muttering something Harry couldn’t catch. Apparently, the rest of the table hadn’t either because everyone leant in on cue.

“Come now dear, we’re family and friends here,” Lucius was playing along, evidently already aware of the answer.

“Gryffindor,” she said again, clearer this time but still said at the speed of lightening.

“What?!” Malfoy shouted.

“No kidding!? Hah!” Sirius guffawed, slapping the table as he began to bark out a laugh loud enough to be heard beyond the courtyard. Harry began to laugh along with the rest of the table.

“As if! You could have been a lion?”

Sirius was struggling to catch his breath, his head thrown back in laughter. Malfoy was looking at his mother as if she had literally just grown a lion’s mane.

“Oh, she can be a lioness when she wants to be,” Lucius said under his breath, causing Narcissa to blush and swat at his arm. Malfoy very dramatically put his forehead on the table in dismay.

“Yes. Well. As Meda said, our parents wouldn’t have been too impressed if I’d come home wearing red and gold. And I certain blond-haired wizard in the year above me gave me enough incentive to make the hat forget it had ever suggested such a ridiculous idea.” Lucius pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“The hat never doubted what house I should have been in,” Lucius said.

“Me either,” Sirius added, “Remus could have been a Ravenclaw though.”

Remus shrugged, “I didn’t fancy having to answer a riddle every time I entered my own common room.”

“That’s my intelligent lazy wolf.” Sirius said affectionately, slinging his arm around the back of Remus’ chair.

“Well this has been remarkably enlightening. It turns out my godson could have been a snake!”

The table was cleared shortly after and it appeared to Harry that the meal was winding down, however Sirius had begun to look twitchy, whispering in Remus’ ear repeatedly until Remus finally elbowed him sharply in the ribs, forcing him to stand again.

“I have a few extra things to say before we all leave.” He was playing with the ring on his little finger.

“Salazar. Are we going to have to get used to you giving multiple toasts at family meals? I’ll remember to schedule in an extra hour,” Lucius joked.

Sirius simply smiled sweetly at him before turning to Harry.

“Harry,” the boy had been so busy watching Sirius’ anxious behaviour he was shocked to be addressed, “I know you haven’t known me long, and at the end of the day I’m still a 33 year old ex-con, but this is something I would have done instantly had you been placed in my care thirteen years ago,”

Narcissa let out a little gasp.

“Would you be open to magical adoption? I am your godfather and we have a connected bond because of that which we can now develop, but, if I magically adopted you then you’d be classed as my son. You would still be a Potter, I’m not taking that away, although you could decide to be Harry Potter-Black, or Black-Potter if you so wished,” he was rambling now, “you would be legally recognised as my heir and part of the House of Black. It really wouldn’t change much, but it would mean a lot in wizarding circles and would solidify my guardianship of you.” Sirius was rushing the request out.

Harry was momentarily stunned, before he leapt to his feet to meet Sirius in a bear hug.

“Are you serious? Of course! I mean, I don’t know what it really means, but yes!”

“I’m always Sirius.” The man replied as if on reflex, and Remus hit him across the arm.

“You mean it though?” Sirius was holding Harry’s face in his hands, his look part pleading, part over the moon.

“Definitely,” Harry was resolute.

“Brilliant! Now, the second thing, and Harry, if you’re technically going to become my son you should probably have a say in this,” Harry didn’t know where this was going or what Sirius could have up his sleeve that he already needed Harry’s okay on, Sirius continued, spinning himself to face Hermione.

“Kitten, I would like to also adopt you.”

There was silence in the courtyard.

“I would like to be your magical guardian in the wizarding world, you would be a daughter of the House of Black.”

Harry was stunned, and judging from his friend’s face, so was she. Malfoy looked positively gobsmacked.

“But… I have parents?” she managed to stutter out.

“Yes, parents in the muggle world, biological parents and that wouldn’t be changed at all. I’m not trying to take you away from your family. You would simply be recognised as part of the House of Black and I would be able to support you with any wizarding matters, should they ever crop up. Mainly symbolic in many ways. You’d have the backing of our house in whatever you do. I know it’s a lot, and Remus told me not to land it on you, but I couldn’t wait. Of course, you should talk to your parents, or Remus and I can come to visit to explain it to them. It would be one way of repaying you for what you’ve done for me and Harry,” Sirius turned to Harry, “that is, if it’s okay with you?”

Harry grinned, “Hey Hermione, want to be my sister?” He winked and Hermione burst into tears, nodding profusely.

“You don’t have to Sirius. It’s too much. I’m muggleborn and it’s the House of Black…” she sniffed.

Narcissa reached over and placed her hand on top of Hermione’s. “Don’t be silly dear. You’ve already told us the hat had you set on Slytherin, that’s more than Sirius can say." She joked, "Regardless, you’re more than welcome into the family.”

Malfoy was watching the exchange, eyes wide. He didn’t look angry, more like he simply compute what was happening in front of him.

“I’m sorry Narcissa, Andromeda, I know I should have ran this by you beforehand.”

“Sirius, our family has been fractured for so long. Bringing a wonderful witch like Hermione into our family seems like a wonderful way of beginning to heal some of the scars.” Andromeda was looking at Sirius, struggling to hold back tears.

“Thank you Meda.” Sirius rolled up onto the balls of his feet in excitement.

“So… is that a yes Kitten?”

“I’d be honoured.” Hermione sniffed again using her napkin to wipe her eyes.

“Really?” Sirius was glowing. Harry looked between his godfather and his friend, unable to contain his excitement at the prospect of having sworn family.

“Yeah. I’d really, truly, be honoured." She repeated, "But you don’t have to do this out of some sense of repayment.”

“It’s nothing of the sort, you’re a wonderful witch Hermione, and it’d be my pleasure to… let’s say, sponsor you, in the wizarding world.”

“Thank you.” Hermione was crying again, and Harry moved to pull her into a hug.

“So, I guess I only have one announcement left to give.” Sirius moved where Remus was sat and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I proposed to Remus this morning and he accepted. We will be getting married at the end of the summer.”

Harry was thrown back from Hermione as she leapt to her feet. Narcissa and Andromeda had done the same, rushing over to Sirius and Remus to congratulate them. From his position, half collapsed on the floor he caught Malfoy’s eye, who raised his eyebrows in amusement before standing to offer the couple his best wishes. Lucius and Ted shook both of the men’s hands.

Recovering himself from where he’d landed on the ground, Harry slipped between Sirius and Remus, placing an arm around each of them.

“You’re both amazing. I honestly don’t know the last time I was this happy.”

“Thank you Pup”

“Are you sure you’re okay with this Harry?” Remus said quietly.

“Are you kidding? Definitely. And who am I to get in the way of what you guys want? I figure you’ve been apart long enough. Dad knew yeah?”

“Yeah, he knew,” Sirius replied.

“Well, I’m sure he wanted you both to be happy. I do too.”

The two men pulled Harry into a tighter hug.

“We will leave you to your celebrations.” Lucius said, taking Sirius’ hand once again.

“I presume you will be formalising the adoption at Gringotts as soon as possible Sirius?” Andromeda asked.

“That’s the plan, we’ll speak to Hermione’s parents first. If they give us the go ahead, I’d like to get it all sorted tomorrow. I know Dumbledore can’t do anything about Harry’s guardianship now, but I still want everything made official sooner rather than later.”

“Wonderful, we’ll await hearing from you, although I imagine we’ll feel the shift when it happens.” Narcissa placed a kiss on Sirius’ cheek before giving Remus a polite hug. “Hmm. End of summer? I’m thinking greens and golds.”

“Leave now Cissa. We’re not ready for your barrage of questions about wedding arrangements.” Sirius laughed.

“As you wish.” Narcissa shrugged, but the look she shared with Andromeda indicated they were only just beginning. Before Narcissa left however, she turned to Hermione, her eyes narrowing slightly as if assessing the girl.

Soon it was just Harry, Sirius, Remus and Hermione left in the courtyard.

Harry made his way over to where Hermione who was sat, fidgeting with the water glass in front of her. He scooted a chair closer to her so that he was practically sat on her lap.

“Hey Hermione, are you okay?” He said quietly.

She hung her head, her curls obscuring her face. “I just don’t know why Sirius would make such an extravagant offer.”

“Because, you’re brilliant and wonderful and he sees that.”

“It doesn’t mean he needs to make me a Black. I’m Hermione Granger, muggleborn. This is too much.”

“It isn’t. You’re brilliant Hermione. I think,” Harry paused, “… I think, Sirius hasn’t had family for a long time. Growing up, I get the impression that he didn’t have anyone he classed as family apart from Narcissa, Andromeda and Regulus,” He said the final name as a question, still unsure exactly how Sirius and Regulus’ relationship tied up.

Regardless, he continued, “but, they were taken away from him. Sirius decided to choose his family; my Mum and Dad, Remus and my Grandparents, and then they were taken away from him as well. I think… he’s trying to rebuild something good and you’re part of that.”

He moved Hermione’s hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear before resting his head on her shoulder. Hermione leant her head on Harry’s in turn.

“You know, I always imagined that, if my parents had survived, they would have had another child. I always pictured a sister.”

Sirius was stood with Remus, holding his hand tightly while watching the two teenagers having their quiet discussion.

“I’m doing the right thing aren’t I Remus?”

“Yes. Definitely, with Harry. As you say, adopting him would have been the first thing either of us would have done given the opportunity.” Remus scratched at his neck, Sirius recognised it as a sign of worry,

“With Hermione, I think she needs this. Watching her the past year, she’s voracious and bright and fights fearlessly for her friends, but I’ve also seen how tough being a muggleborn makes things for her. I can’t explain it. I feel myself reaching to her to make things better before I know somethings wrong. If you want an example, I’ll tell you all about the emotional turmoil your sending the Firebolt caused. Looking at her throughout that ordeal physically hurt.”

“What do you mean?”

“She reported it to Minnie. Sensible witch that Hermione is, thought that an anonymous gift of a top of the line broom, to the boy apparently being hunted by a mass murderer, was an oddity. She reported it to McGonagall. Harry and Ron ignored her for weeks while it went through testing to make sure it wasn’t cursed.”

“I was wanted to send Harry a present.” Sirius wasn’t happy and Remus reached out to hold his arm, his thumb running across his bicep.

“Yes, but apparently she has a bit more self-preservation than Harry. Rightly, or wrongly, the result was Harry and Ron ostracising her for weeks while Minnie and I tested the broom for tampering. Can you tell me she didn’t do the right thing? Watching her go through that… I don’t know, I could feel how much it hurt while they cut her out.”

Sirius was ashamed, looking at the small girl sat with his godchild. That’s not what he had intended to happen when he sent the broom. Remus wasn’t finished.

“Add onto the fact that her cat tried to eat Peter at every chance he got, she had a rough year. And, although she doesn’t seem to have noticed it, Ron seems to hold some engrained views about her background. You didn’t hear how Arthur talked about her the other night, like her intelligence was surprising ‘considering she was a muggleborn’.” Remus scoffed, “I didn’t realise that the Weasley’s thought like that. Maybe I missed it when we were younger. I know that, at the end of the day, adopting her won’t change her blood status, but the Black name would give her some form of protection. She needs that. All year I’ve felt on edge; feeling this impulsive urge to help her. Sometimes, looking at her, it’s like I can read her mind, and all she’s thinking is concern and worry for other people.”

Sirius was taken aback at how strongly Remus felt about Hermione. He had gleaned that his partner was a protective of the witch based on their discussions the previous night but he hadn’t quite realised just how much until he looked at the furrowed concern on Remus’ face as he watched the girl now.

“That’s how I feel about Harry. He’s so full of worry and fear. I’m not doing this just because I want to give her a political edge with the family name. It just feels right.”

“Hm,” Remus nodded, before placing a kiss on Sirius’ temple. “Well, it looks like you’re adopting two snakes in lion’s clothing then.” They both looked back at the two teenagers who were huddled together, Harry’s arm around Hermione.

“Look’s like.” Sirius grinned.

“Right, come on pups, let’s get going! Kitten, will your parents be home? I think Remus and I should have a chat with them before we finalise anything at Gringotts. Or we could call round tomorrow if that’s better?”

Hermione checked her watch, “They should be finished at the practice, they close early on a Monday. I’m sure they’d be fine if we talked to them now.”

“Wonderful, we’ll head straight there. Will wizarding attire throw them, or should we change?”

Hermione looked at the Remus and Harry’s outfits, although they both wore wizarding robes, they looked relatively muggle in the suit and shirt combinations underneath. However, she let out an amused sigh when her eyes fell on Sirius.

“If you’re going to be putting a case forward for adopting me, maybe lose the silk and do up a couple of buttons?” She giggled.

Sirius and Remus laughed, “Righto kitten, whatever you say.” He transfigured his shirt into a more modest linen shirt of the same colour, and he started to do up the buttons, hiding the bulk of tattoos on his chest.

He held out his hand to Harry and Remus took Hermione’s.

“Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

Hermione led their small group up the front path to her house, trying to ignore the embarrassment that had begun to set in she realised that Harry was seeing her childhood home for the first time. Opening the post box red front door, she called out into the house, “Mum, Dad?”

“In the kitchen sweetie,” her Dad called back.

They passed through the cream carpeted hall and into the kitchen. It was jarringly different to the wizarding houses she had visited in the last couple of days, all marble countertops and chrome; Hermione imagined it came from her parent’s profession, everything could be cleaned within an inch of its life.

“I’ve brought some visitors; they’d like to discuss some things with you.”

Hermione’s father looked up from the book he was reading, and her mother turned to face them from where she had been loading the dishwasher.

“Oh, this is a surprise,” her mother didn’t look impressed, “we weren’t expecting guests.” She threw Hermione a look that indicated that she’d committed a social faux pas.

“I’m sorry, it was a bit sudden,” Hermione looked at the floor.

“My apologies, Mr and Mrs Granger. It’s entirely our fault, we can come back another time if now is inconvenient.” Remus stepped forward.

“Remus, good to see you again, please call me Richard.” Richard Granger stood to shake his hand and his wife moved around the kitchen island to stand beside him.

“Mum, Dad, this is Sirius Black, and you remember my friend Harry.” Hermione tried to keep her voice light.

Sirius shook Richard and Helen’s hands in turn.

“Harry dear! We hear so much about you. Gosh, you’ve grown so much since we last saw you, Diagon Alley, the beginning of your second year if I remember rightly? There was that unseemly business with that thug of a man in the bookstore.”

“It’s great to see you again too Ma’am.”

“Goodness, no need to be so formal Harry, call me Helen. Hermione, put the kettle on for our guests. Is this about school?” her mother gestured to the kitchen table and they all took seats.

While Hermione began pulling mugs out of the cupboard and filling the kettle, Sirius began.

“We don’t want to take too much of your afternoon, so I’ll try and cut to the chase. Hermione has very recently done me a great service...”

“What kind of service?” her father cut in before Sirius could continue. He had leant forward in his chair and crossed his arms on the table. Hermione knew it was a position he would adopt when he was trying to assess someone, and sometimes he used it as an intimidation tactic.

“Until recently, I was falsely imprisoned with a life sentence for a crime that I did not commit. Hermione has worked to secure my freedom and overturn my sentencing.”

“Excuse me?!” Her mother looked aghast. “A life sentence?! Who are you?”

“How much do you know about Harry?” Sirius continued, not fazed by Helen’s reaction.

“We know that your parents died at the hands of a dark wizard… I’m sorry for that son,” Richard turned to Harry, “I’m afraid we don’t know much more than that.”

“That’s alright sir,” Harry replied.

Sirius carried on.

“Harry is my godson and his parents were my best friends. They were betrayed by one of our childhood friends who revealed their location to Voldemort, the dark wizard you referred to. When I learnt about what my friend had done, I tried to track him down, however, when I found him, he disappeared, killing a number of people in the process. I was framed and subsequently imprisoned. The truth of the whole affair has only recently been exposed thanks to Harry and Hermione; I was formally acquitted by our Ministry of Magic earlier this morning.”

“Oh my god! You’re that man who’s been plastered all over the news!” Her mother shrieked.

Hermione set a mug of tea in front of her, willing the act to calm her mother down, before moving on to provide everyone else with their drinks.

“Now that I am a free man, I have taken guardianship of Harry and will be adopting him, as I would have done thirteen years ago if things hadn’t gone so disastrously wrong. But, you should know, if it wasn’t for Hermione, I would still be imprisoned. She went out of her way to help me, and to help Harry…” he paused, “and for that I would like to offer to magically adopt Hermione.”

It had been one thing listening to Sirius state that he wanted to adopt her in the context of the Copper Cauldron courtyard, but now, hearing Sirius deliver those words to her parents, Hermione became acutely aware of how ridiculous a suggestion it was.

“You… you want to adopt our daughter? What kind of a request is that? She’s our child!”

“I understand it sounds like an outlandish proposition, but magical adoption isn’t the same as adoption in the muggle world,” Remus stepped into try and calm the tension in the room. “You are and would remain Hermione’s parents. The act will not change that. However, Hermione would become bound to Sirius’ family magic and she would be protected by his family name. He would be in a position to be an advocate for her within the wizarding world, in circumstances where you may not be able.”

“What do you mean, where we would not be able?” Hermione could tell her Mum was insulted by the suggestion that she wouldn’t be able to support her daughter. It was a reasonable reaction.

“It’s an extreme example, but if Hermione was ever in an accident that required treatment at St Mungo’s Hospital, she would need a magical medical advocate. I’m afraid our laws do not currently allow decisions regarding wizarding medical care to be taken by muggles.”

“Richard, Helen, I am in no way proposing that I would take over any form of decision making; however, I would be in a position to liaise with you in that situation. I would be, in essence, your proxy in the wizarding world. We would draw up a document, similar to a power of attorney.”

“This all seems ludicrous to me,” Richard spoke, “I understand that my daughter has clearly done you a great service, but adoption? And you expect to just walk in here and for us to take you at your word that you’re innocent! Our news would beg to differ.”

“Daddy, we went to the Minister of Magic and everything. He’s innocent of everything. Believe me.”

Sirius reached inside his robe and pulled out a scroll of parchment bearing the Ministry of Magic’s crest and passed it to Hermione’s father.

“This is the formal pardon sealed by our Minister for Magic today. Mr Granger, my family is very old and holds a particular standing within the wizarding world. We don’t take owing debts lightly, and that is what I believe I owe Hermione, a life debt of sorts. She, quite simply, gave me my life back. By magically adopting her and giving her the weight of my family name, she would be set for life within the wizarding community. It would open doors that will have been closed to her before now…”

“Because we aren’t wizards? That’s the point you’re making? That your world is prejudiced against people like Hermione.” Hermione bristled at her Mum’s words.

Remus took over again from Sirius, “I’m afraid so. It’s not the way the world should work, but until there are more people like Hermione in positions to change policy and make people see how archaic their way of thinking is, it’s the world that we have to live in.”

“Where do you fit into all of this? Are you here as a representative of the school?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed in on Remus. It was a stare that would have had Hermione shrinking into her seat, but Remus maintained eye contact with the woman.

“No. I am here as Sirius’ fiancé.”

Hermione liked to think that her parents were relatively liberal, however, in that moment, she was ashamed to see her Mum’s face twist momentarily at the announcement, before settling into a neutral position again. If Remus and Sirius had noticed, they didn’t react.

“Hermione, what are your thoughts on this?” her father asked, handing Sirius the parchment back having now given it a once over.

“I… I think I want to do it. It seems more a formality than anything. I’ve read about magical adoption,” she caught Sirius’ eye who looked surprised, “I thought there was a possibility that you’d want to adopt Harry once you were cleared…” she confessed, and Sirius gave her a small smile.

“Honestly Dad, it doesn’t seem like anything would really change much on my end. Being muggleborn, with living biological parents, it’s like Sirius says, it’d be more like a sponsorship of sorts than anything else.” She said turning back to her father.

Her mother got up and left the room and Hermione made to go after her.

“Give her a second cupcake,” her Dad placed a hand on her arm to stop her from following, “You know she struggles with all of this stuff sometimes. We’re your parents but the more time you spend at that school and in the wizarding world, the more she feels like she’s losing you.”

Her father sounded tired, like this was a conversation he had with her Mum frequently.

“You live in a world that, no matter how hard we try to understand it, we will never be a part of and now you’re suggesting becoming part of another family. Formality or not, you must see how that hurts.”  

“I know. I know that Dad, but, in some ways, that’s why it would be a good thing. I know you’ve been concerned that I’m out there in this other world without you for back up. Sirius, and Remus, they would be that. You’d know that I had someone looking out for me.”

Her father nodded, “Let me speak with your mother.” He got up and left the room.

“If they don’t agree kitten, you know that we’ll still be that for you, regardless of the adoption.” Sirius reached his calloused hand over to hers and gave it squeeze.

“And you’re my sister no matter what.” Harry said with a grin.

Harry soon began asking questions about her house in order to fill the quiet as they waited for her parents to return.

“I can’t believe you grew up in this house. It’s so… shiny. I hadn’t really ever thought about where you lived before.”

“It felt difficult to talk about. I knew what your situation was at the Dursley’s and you know how Ron can be about money and stuff. I didn’t want to rub it in that I had this lovely upbringing where money wasn’t an issue.”

“We’re big boys you know? I think we could have taken it.”

“Pfft, you maybe, but Ron got moody a month ago simply because I mentioned that I’d owl-ordered some new books. It doesn’t take much to set him off.” Her hand moved of its own accord to her arm. Across the table Remus noticed the action and sent a ‘look’ to Sirius. As if sensing her need for comfort, Crookshanks appeared, jumping up onto her lap. She gave his head a scratch before he leapt from her knees and made his way to Sirius.

“Hello old friend, I’m glad to see you again. I believe I owe you a lot as well. I can promise you a lifetime supply of treats whenever you come to visit.”

“He doesn’t usually like people,” Hermione said, watching in amazement as her cat became a floppy mess of orange fur on top of Sirius. He scooped the cat into his arms, cradling him like a baby. It was a position that Crookshanks only let her hold him in.

“Oh, we got to know each other very well over the course of the last year. We’re best friends.”

“Crookshanks is alright with me, but I’ve never seen him so relaxed with someone else. He can’t abide Ron.” Harry commented.

“Yes, well, a year of having insults thrown at you will put you off any wizard.” Sirius said, scratching the cat’s stomach. At that moment Hermione’s parents stepped back into the room.

“My god, I’ve never seen that thing interact with anyone apart from Hermione. It normally goes feral whenever either of us try to get near it,” her mother was observing the scene with incredulous eyes. In all honesty, it was quite bizarre sight; even though he had changed his shirt, Sirius, with his long black hair tied in a ponytail, dark blue and black wizarding robes and tattoos peeking out from beneath his collar, very much still gave the persona of a rebel and yet here he was giving snuggles to a cat.

“I’ve always been good with animals,” he said lightly, placing Crookshanks back on the floor.

“I’m not even sure that thing is an animal,” Richard muttered under his breath.

There was a pause.

“I’m sorry for leaving the room earlier. I find a lot of this stuff quite hard to get my head around, but that was rude of me.”

“Not at all, it’s completely understandable.” Remus replied.

“We’ve discussed it, and we have agreed to let you proceed with the magical adoption, on the understanding that we, as her parents, will make any final decisions on anything health related, financial or regarding her education.” Richard continued.

“Of course, I can have my lawyer draw up documents if you wish?” Sirius offered.

“I think we would appreciate that, thank you. We would also like some way to be in contact with you, if you are going to be taking a role in Hermione’s life. I know that you tend to work by using owls but that isn’t as easy for us.”

“I’ll set up a mobile phone and give you our number.” Remus suggested. “We could also organise a floo connection between your house and ours, if that’s okay with you? It would mean that Hermione and yourselves could come to visit easily and vice versa. I’ll also give you our address, we aren’t far from here.” Both Harry and Hermione’s eyes lit up at that suggestion, she could visit Grimmauld as often as she liked without having to ask someone to sidealong apparate with her or having to get the tube.

“Floo? That’s travelling using fireplaces isn’t it?” Helen looked to her daughter and Hermione nodded in reply to the question.

“Thank you, we would appreciate that. So, what happens next?” Hermione’s mum asked. It was a good question, although she had read about adoption in the lead up to Sirius’ release, neither Hermione nor Harry actually knew what the process of magical adoption was.

“If you are available Hermione, we’ll take a trip to Gringott’s tomorrow to finalise everything? It shouldn’t take long. A simple meeting with the Black account manager.”

“I’ll be free,” she said quickly.

“Wonderful. Do you have any questions Mr and Mrs Granger? I’m happy to answer anything.”

“We’ll have a think and get back to you if anything comes to mind.”

“Of course. I truly am grateful for you speaking with us at such short notice. Your daughter is a credit to you both.”

Her parents looked at her, despite the awkwardness of the last half an hour, they both had warm smiles on both of their faces, “We know.”

Sirius and Lupin shook their hands and gave Hermione a hug. Harry was next, lifting her slightly off the floor with the force of his hug before leaving Hermione alone in the kitchen with her parents.

“You put us in quite a difficult position Hermione,” her mother levelled a stare in her direction.

“I’m sorry. It’s just been a whirlwind couple of days, and I promise, I never expected Sirius to offer anything like that. I was just trying to do the right thing.” Hermione dropped her head slightly and her father pulled her into his side.

“Come on cupcake, I think you owe us an explanation as to how you proved the innocence of a man on death row.” He nudged her in the ribs, making her laugh. Her mother rolled her eyes, and they settled in at the kitchen table for another cup of tea and a story.

Due to how quickly Hermione’s plan had fallen in place, she hadn’t actually been able to give her parents a proper run down of her school year, so she took the opportunity to fully debrief them on her latest year at Hogwarts. She tailored some of the more dangerous moments and tried to focus on the positive aspects of the year, finding that, in hindsight there hadn’t actually been that many. She had been wrung out using the time turner to attend classes, despite enjoying the responsibility that Professor McGonagall had entrusted her with, and a lot of the social element of her year had been spent warring with Ron over Crookshanks. The realisation wasn’t a pleasant one.

“So… you really trust this Sirius Black and Professor Lupin?” her father asked.

“Oh yes, definitely. Maybe it’s because we’ve had such terrible Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers the last couple of years, but Remus (he did say I could call him that Mum), has been brilliant. You know I told you that Ron was off with me because of Crooks? Remus always seemed to know when I was having a bad day and he’s been a great teacher making sure I wasn’t pushing myself too hard with my extra classes. And Harry loves him.

And Sirius, it’s just so clear he loves Harry so much. And he’s been great with me. He’s been through so much, and his first thought has always been about Harry, that says a lot, doesn’t it?”

“We trust your judgement Hermione.” Her Dad began clearing the mugs from the kitchen table. “It is all a bit bizarre though. Your wizarding world has very strange customs.”

“Well,” Helen chuckled, “I must say, Sirius cleans up quite well in comparison to that mug shot being shared all over the news,”. 

“Oh, does he now dear?” Hermione’s dad looked over his shoulder at his wife as he made his way to the kitchen sink.

“I’m just saying!”

“Yes, yes dear.”

Hermione laughed as her mother began to look flushed.

“He did look familiar though.” Helen said, shaking off her embarrassment. Her father hummed in agreeance.

“Probably from being all over the news?” Hermione suggested.

“Yes, probably.” Her mum leaned across to her and whispered under her breath, “I wouldn’t forget grey eyes like that very easily.” Hermione giggled.

“What was that dear?”

“Oh, nothing Dad.” Hermione replied, giving her mother a conspiratorial smile.

Hermione settled into enjoy the rest of the afternoon with her parents. She couldn’t quite believe how well everything had turned out.

Chapter Text

Harry woke up before his alarm the following morning, excited to get to Gringotts and finalise everything that they had spoken about the day before. He was going to claim his Lordship, whatever that meant, and regain access to the Potter vaults and, in turn, Potter Manor. He couldn’t believe he owned a home of his own no one had told him about. He had so many questions he wanted to ask about the house his father had grown up in and the place Sirius had adopted as his home during his teenager years. But they could wait. He was without a doubt most excited for Sirius to officially adopt him.

He had no real idea what to expect from that. Sirius had said it would involve a drop of blood and some form of spell, but he’d been unable to elaborate much more. When they had got back to Grimmauld Place yesterday evening Harry had bombarded Sirius with questions about magical adoption. He didn’t have much more to add beyond what he’d already told Harry, Hermione and her parents. Apparently, it had been quite a common practice among pureblood circles, particularly in instances where a couple struggled to conceive their own child, which had become a more frequent problem as the blood lines became more intertwined. Couples adopted pureblood orphans, or illegitimate children conceived outside of wedlock, the act of adoption making them legitimate, full heirs, able to continue the family line.

Harry kicked off his duvet and went about his morning routine. He pulled out a pair of faded blue jeans and an oversized long sleeve red top. He positioned himself in front of his mirror, running a comb through his hair in a futile attempt to tame the severe bed head taking place, before appraising his outfit. The top was baggy on him and not in the fashionable way he’d seen people in magazines wear and the cuffs were worn around the edges. He hated how small he looked. Maybe he’d ask Sirius if they could go shopping after they’d been to Gringotts. Living with the Dursley’s had been hard enough as a child, deprived of toys and new clothes, but learning in his first year at Hogwarts that he had an entire vault at Gringotts ready and waiting for him, but that had limited access to, had been a constant frustration.

“Are you ready to become my son?” Sirius was beaming as Harry walked into the kitchen. Sirius was wearing ripped acid wash jeans, a black Led Zeppelin t-shirt and an extremely worn leather jacket. Half of his hair was pulled into a small top knot, the rest loose, his black curls gathering around his shoulders.

“Sure thing, Daaad,” Harry replied, “Can I get a puppy and have icecream for breakfast?” he said in his most whiney voice.

“He’s making demands already Moony! No extra puppies just yet. I need to get you house trained first Pup.”

“Me house trained?” Harry scoffed, his eyes flicking to where Sirius’ feet were resting on the kitchen table. Remus swatted at Sirius’ shoes, laughing.

“Like you’re one to talk Pads. Get your feet down before Kreacher hits you with the Prophet again.”

Sirius swung his feet off the table, his heavy black boots thudding as they made contact with the floor. He reached across the table and began inching a tray of potions towards Harry in jerky movements.

“Andromeda sent them over first thing with strict orders that you’re to take all of them daily for 2 weeks. After that she’ll re-assess.”

Harry frowned. The vials in front of him were full of varying coloured solutions.

“What are they?” He picked one up to inspect the liquid within the glass vessel. It was definitely not as liquid as he would have liked, rather, it slid disconcertingly around the tube as he tilted it in the light.

“A couple of nutritional potions, vitamins, supplements. Beware the purple one, it tastes like radish. The pale one is a pepper up, you don’t need to take that if you don’t want to, but Meda thought you might need the boost today.”

Harry hesitated before quickly downing the lot in quick succession, following it up with a large gulp of coffee. They didn’t taste great but were far better than he had expected considering some of the facial expressions Sirius had pulled the previous two mornings. The big baby.

“I put in an expedited request at the Ministry and have had confirmation that the floo to the Granger’s house was all set up yesterday evening, so Hermione should be joining us soon. I figure we can do some shopping after we’ve been to Gringotts. We can get some bits for the house.” Sirius took a large bite of a croissant, scattering flakes of pastry over himself and the table.

“Awesome. I, um, well, I was actually going to ask if we could maybe go clothes shopping. My wardrobe isn’t particularly extensive.”

“Sure! Muggle London or Diagon?” Sirius was full of energy, “Although, if you’re after formal wizarding robes and that kind of stuff, Narcissa is probably your best bet.”

“Muggle is fine by me - for now at least. I don’t really know what kind of wizarding outfits I need.”

“Brilliant, we’ll venture out of Diagon later today then. I can drop Cissa a message to see about sorting you out a more formal wizarding wardrobe. We can’t have Lord Potter looking shabby now.”

“Hark whose talking!” Harry laughed at his godfather.

“Don’t forget, Lucius wants to meet with you later,” Remus was reading a book, his reading glasses sliding slightly down his nose in the process.

“Yes, yes. Free for three days and bloody Malfoy is already grating on my nerves.”

“What does he want?” Harry asked, picking some bacon off the platter set in the centre of the kitchen table.

“Oh, just to discuss what happens next between our Houses. I also need him to help go over the current Black business investments. Beyond that, personally, I don’t think there’s much to talk about, but he seems to think we need to have a sit-down. Joy.”

“Can I ask a question?”

“Anything!” Sirius’ good mood was infectious, “Unless it’s about knitting, Doctor Who or physics, then Moony’s your guy.”

“No knitting questions at the moment,” Harry grinned before letting his face turn serious, “I just… I guess I understand where you stand with Narcissa and Andromeda, but what about Lucius? I know he said that he did all the stuff in the war for his family and it was all a ‘business decision’, but does that mean that we can trust him?”

Sirius sighed and toyed with the hairband holding his hair back.

“Honestly, I don’t really know. I trust Narcissa, and I know the Malfoy family; they’ve always been self-serving. It doesn’t surprise me one bit that Lucius joined Voldemort’s cause to keep his family safe and to keep his business going. Does it make up for what he did? No. But… I can see that things are different with him. He was a pompous, snakey piece of shit when we were at school, still gives off a bit of that energy, but I guess I believe in Narcissa. He’s always been good with her; I could see that even when we were at Hogwarts. I know with all my heart that she wouldn’t let Draco be a part of that kind of regime, and where Narcissa goes, Lucius will follow.”

“You know it was Malfoy’s friend’s Dad who planted Riddle’s diary on Ginny Weasley last year? Goyle?”

“Remus gave me a rundown of everything that happened last year,” Sirius grimaced, “It’s madness that the school was left open for that long.”

“Do you think Lucius knew Mr Goyle had given Ginny the diary? They’re mates after all.”

“That’s a question I think you’d have to ask him. I must admit, it seems out of character for Goyle Sr., he was never one to take the initiative. But, from what I understand, Lucius was one of the main voices campaigning to have the school shut down in order to prevent further attacks. That doesn’t strike me as the action of someone who had a part in the whole the thing.”

“Hmm, I guess.”

“Harry,” Remus placed his book down on the table and took his glasses off so he could properly look at Harry, “These are all reasonable questions, but I think… and don’t take this the wrong way… I think that you have been surrounded for a while now by people who like to think in black and white terms. Hermione seems to be starting to realise, and I hope you will too, that there aren’t bad people and good people. Everything is nuanced, and sometimes there are external factors, fears and players, that make people choose the path they walk on. To think in black and white cuts you off from empathising with other people’s circumstances. That’s not to say that there aren’t straight up ‘bad people’ out there in the world, we both know that there are, but I tend to find that they are rarer than you think.”

Harry dwelled on Remus’ words for a while. His mind flicked to the conversation he had had with Malfoy in the sunroom the other day. All of the animosity that had built up between them over the years had apparently been prompted by Harry refusing him friendship on the train. It hadn’t been because he was a Gryffindor or ‘the boy who lived’, or because Malfoy was from a ‘bad family’, it was regular childish pride.

“Okay,” Harry conceded, “doesn’t mean I like either of them.”

“That’s your prerogative,” Remus shrugged and picked his book up again. 

“Kreacher?” Sirius called into the empty kitchen. There was a pop and the elderly elf appeared at his side.

“Master Black called,” he croaked. The elf took stock of his Master in front of him, noticing the pastry flakes scattered across the man and the table and gave out an exasperated sigh before conjuring a napkin and handing it to Sirius.

Harry stifled a laugh.

“Sorry Kreacher,” Sirius tucked the napkin into his tshirt collar, “I was just wondering what the situation is with the house. Does Narcissa have plans for today?”

“Kreacher continues to be plagued by the elves of House Malfoy. Squeaky intrusive elves. They poke their noses in places and move Mistresses furniture around.”

“What rooms are they working on today?”

“The dining room, Master Sirius. All of Mistresses paintings have been moved. Missy Cissa has selected wallpaper.”

“Very good, I’m sure we’ll see her later today when the adoptions are finalised. Thank you Kreacher.” The elf bowed low before moving away into the back of the kitchen.

Sirius turned to Remus, “We also need to speak about Augusta Longbottom’s endorsement yesterday; that should probably be a full family conversation. We need to arrange a meeting with her House.”

Harry made to ask a question about why Neville’s grandmother’s intervention at the hearing had come as such a shock, but before he could say anything the fireplace in the kitchen burst into life, omitting toxic green flames, and Hermione stepped through. She wore a dark green floral spaghetti strap dress, black tights, biker boots and an oversized leather jacket.

“Morning!” she breezed, plonking herself on the bench next to Harry. He could tell she was full of nervous energy, her leg bouncing on the floor.

“There’s my favourite daughter-to-be!”

“Good morning Hermione” Remus looked up from his book briefly and smiled.

“Can Kreacher be getting Missy anything for breakfast?” The elf had hobbled over to her as soon as she arrived.

“Oh no, thank you Kreacher, I ate with my parents this morning.”

Sirius and Remus watched the interaction carefully as Hermione took in the despondent elf,

“… but a cup of black coffee would be lovely? If we have time?” she addressed the two adults.

Sirius said nothing, watching has his elf almost tripped over his feet in a rush to set the coffee pot going again.

“You’ve got time yet.” Remus filled in the silence, before returning to his book again.

“Oh! Is that Robard’s new book on defensive magic and its use in law enforcement? I’ve been meaning to get my hands on it since the release! I actually hoped to stop in at Flourish and Blotts while we’re in Diagon.”

With the speed that Hermione was speaking Harry decided Hermione didn’t need the cup of coffee Kreacher was placing in front of her, she seemed as full of energy as Sirius. She paused to take a sip of coffee.

“I heard that it has a fascinating analysis of the issues surrounding spells that are deemed perfunctory and household in nature, but that can cause as much damage as spells that are well renowned as being classed as dark.”

“It does!” Remus’ face lit up, “It’s a topic I would have covered with you in your fourth year. Quite often the most effective spells in a defensive situation are the simplest. It’s something Aurors are trained on.”

Harry’s ears perked up, he’d recently begun considering life after Hogwarts and Auror training seemed like something he could be interested in.

“For example,” Remus continued, noticing that Harry was now also paying attention, “a simple transfiguration spell could render the weapon in your opponent’s hand completely useless or dangerous to the holder. That’s a basic example, but the implication stands. It makes some regular spells morally questionable when used in a combat situation. For example, incarcerous is a simple binding spell used daily by witches and wizards around the country to perform household tasks and jobs. But, if you were so inclined, it could be used with sinister implications, to strangle someone for example, and yet, despite the possible result being as severe as the killing curse, it is only a class 2 spell. So, where does the law fall in judging someone who uses one spell to kill, versus the other. One currently gets you a one-way ticket to Azkaban without question. The other could have the same effect, but you’d be given a full trial.”

“I guess, in a court of law, you’re talking about intent. To use the killing curse, your intent is clear, there is only one outcome - the death of the intended target. Whereas the use of a spell like incarcerous, the intent to kill – if that’s what we’re talking about – isn’t as evident and could be disputed. Involuntary manslaughter etc.”

“You, Hermione Granger, make me wish I hadn’t resigned.”

Sirius coughed something that sounded remarkably like ‘bookworms’ and chucked a smile at Harry.

“I still don’t think you should have quit…” Harry mumbled.

“It’s like Ron using Wingardium Leviosa to knock the troll out with its own club.” Hermione pondered to herself.

“Um, what was that Kitten?” Sirius leant forward, suddenly more interested in the conversation.

“Harry, do you want to deal with this one?” Hermione took another mouthful of coffee.

“Oh, um, well, it was first year and Ron and I hadn’t been particularly nice to Hermione, so she hid in the girls bathroom instead of coming to the Halloween feast,” Sirius’ eyebrow furrowed and he turned slightly to look at Hermione, who was focussed intently on her coffee. Harry continued, “and well, Professor Quirrell, who was Voldemort really, let a troll out. Ron and I had gone to look for Hermione and found her cornered by the troll in the bathroom. I got on its back and Ron levitated the troll’s club and dropped it on its head. It’s kind of how we all became friends.”

He felt ashamed having to tell the story again. The fact that Hermione had been put in that situation because she’d overheard Ron and him speaking about her had never sat right him, especially considering how close they were now. He had found himself thinking about it quite often over the last year while Ron and Hermione argued about Crookshanks and Scabbers.

“There is so much to unpack in that story…” Sirius groaned, running his fingers through his hair. “Is this what having you two as kids is going to be like?”

“I, for one, am very much hoping for a peaceful fourth year.” Hermione said.

“Me too,” Harry nodded, nudging Hermione in the ribs.

“Feel free to borrow this book after I’m done with it Hermione, it’ll save you buying yourself a copy.”

Remus was smiling at her with a face full of pride at having a fellow nerd in the house. Harry couldn’t help but think, again, that Remus looked far healthier than he had ever looked during his time as their teacher. Harry wouldn’t have questioned it if someone said he’d taken a de-aging potion. His face still bore scars from his transformations, but the bags under his eyes had lifted, he looked less gaunt and the wrinkles on his forehead had smoothed. His hair, that had appeared almost grey earlier in the school year, was now a sandy blonde and seemed thicker. He even appeared to have filled out a bit. Maybe Andromeda had him on the same potion regime that Sirius was on?

Harry was also used to his ex-Professor wearing oversized shabby tweed suits, but today he was wearing a well fitted beige and brown speckled fisherman’s jumper, dark blue jeans and tan boots. The largest difference in his appearance though was most definitely just how happy and relaxed he looked. The tension that he seemed to carry at school, as much as he had tried to hide it, was gone.

“Right!” Sirius swung himself off the kitchen bench, removing the napkin from his neck, “I’m going to feed Buckbeak, but then will you both be good to go?”

Harry stared at his godfather, “Buckbeak’s here?”

“Oh yeah! Once I knew that I was going to be in the clear I brought him back here. I wasn’t just going to leave my valiant steed behind,” Sirius scoffed like it was a completely acceptable decision to bring a hippogriff into central London.

“Where are you keeping him?” Hermione was looking at the ceiling as if the animal was about to crash through the floorboards above.

“At the bottom of the garden of course. I cleared a space for a paddock and cast some wards to stop the muggles from hearing and seeing anything. Not that I needed to. I’m sure my ancestors have managed to make this the ‘most invisible to every muggle ever living’, ‘I’ll obliviate your memory if you even think of seeing it Mr Muggle’, property in wizarding Britain.”

“Don’t you need to inform the…” Hermione started.

“I wouldn’t even bother Hermione,” Remus sighed, rising from the table, “I’ve had this conversation far too many times already and I don’t win. Come on Pads, let’s see the feathered beast and then get off.”

“I’m going to tell Bucky that you called him that and you’ll see how you like it,” Sirius followed behind Remus, throwing both of his arms around man’s neck. The couple walked in tandem out of the kitchen, Sirius kicking his legs from side to side like a child.

Harry heard Remus chuckle from the hallway.

“You know full well Buckbeak can smell the wolf on me and won’t come near me.”

“You know..” Sirius’ voice had dropped low “…Padfoot can smell the wolf on you too. It seems like Moony might still be a bit worked up from this morning? Or is it just how damn fine my ass looks in these jeans?”

Sirius’ attempts to speak quietly drastically failed. Harry almost choked on the mouthful of food he had been trying to swallow, and Hermione spat her coffee over the table, narrowly avoiding the book Remus had left in front of her. 

Remus laughed, his lupine hearing clearly picking up on Harry and Hermione’s reaction.

“Stop traumatising Harry and Hermione before they’re even ours.”

“Never!” Sirius shouted. “Get used to it pups!”

Harry quickly got over the mortification of overhearing their conversation, and then settled into a state of bliss. He had guardians who hugged each other, flirted, fussed over him, and made inside jokes. He looked at Hermione to his side.

“Things are good aren’t they,” he said, taking his friends hand.

“Yeah. Things are really good.”

Sirius and Remus apparated their small group as close to the entrance of Gringotts as possible in order to avoid drawing attention to the newly freed Lord Black and the Harry Potter. The Daily Prophet that morning had printed various pictures of them all at the Wizengamot, celebrating Sirius’ release; a picture of Remus, Sirius, Hermione and Harry hugging, front and centre on the main spread. Surprisingly, it had been placed alongside an equally large photo of Harry and Malfoy shaking hands. Knowing that the Malfoy’s had managed to convince the Prophet not to mention anything about Harry’s life at the Dursley’s, Hermione presumed that the photo of Harry and Malfoy had also been one of their machinations; the Malfoy family shown as in good graces with the Boy Who Lived.

They couldn’t have been more than 20 yards from the entrance to Gringotts, but they were quite quickly surrounded by bystanders, wishing them the best and offering Sirius their apologies. Sirius and Remus positioned Harry and Hermione between them as they forced their way through the crowds and into the bank. The sound of the hubbub dissipated as they entered the cavernous main foyer. Hermione thought that it felt similar to the times she’d visited cathedrals with her parents; a hush descending, an automatic reverence due to the building’s size and imposing nature. All that could be heard was the occasional clunk of a heavy stamp from one of the tall desks, reverberating around the room.

Sirius walked straight towards a large podium positioned directly opposite the main door, his shoes sending echoing thuds around the space.

“Name?” The goblin in front of them choked out.

“Lord Sirius Black. I have a meeting scheduled with Griphook.” He presented his wand to the haggard looking goblin towering above them.

“We are grateful to see the Black vaults being actively used once again Mr Black. Griphook!” the goblin’s voice had become sharp, and his long fingers ran over the wand in his hand a number of times before he handed it back to its owner. A surly looking goblin arrived standing to the left of the large desk. Hermione didn’t know much about goblin aging, but he looked incredibly old, his skin thick and wrinkled and his eyes tired.

“It is a privilege to serve the House of Black once again. I hope all has been well since we saw you last.” The goblin gave a short bow.

“It is good to see you again Griphook. All officially cleared. Thank you again for your help on Saturday.”

“My pleasure Lord Black. This way.”

Hermione and Harry shared a glance before following Sirius, Remus and the goblin out of the atrium and down a long corridor. They were led through a number of doors, several with wand checks, before they finally arrived at what was presumably Griphook’s office. The walls were fully panelled in black wood and the floor was made up of a black and green tile. There was a large desk in the centre of the room with wingback chairs on either side. Griphook took a seat on one side and Hermione, Sirius and Harry took their place on the opposite. Remus stood behind them, his hands resting on the back of Hermione’s chair.

“Would you like to check on your ongoing investments and assets, Lord Black? As I mentioned on Saturday, Gringotts has kept the Black investments going in your absence. As account manager I can assure you that I have ensured that the Black vault has remained profitable. Last year was particularly strong.”

The goblin produced a thick file and handed it to Sirius who took a cursory glance before placing it on the desk in front of him. He had his Lord Black persona on.

“Thank you Griphook. I am sure that you have made many a fruitful investment on my family’s behalf. I do, however, imagine that the investments we currently have are likely within areas of business that no longer align with the political standing of the House of Black. I will take this away and have a look over the current state of things and get back to you with any alterations I see fit. We are here though on different business today.” Sirius replied, reaching over and placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

Griphook’s eyes widened slightly, “Oh?”

“As you confirmed on Saturday, Harry is my godson and now in my permanent guardianship. He wishes to claim the Potter seat officially, and I would like to adopt him as heir to the House of Black. I will also be adopting Hermione; she is muggleborn and her parents are alive, the act the will be one of sponsorship.” Griphook’s eyes flitted in Hermione’s direction, a strained expression on his face. Did goblins uphold the pureblood beliefs?

“Of course, Lord Black. Gringotts employees do not discuss other House’ business with their clients, but,” he turned to face Harry, “… as you are claiming the Potter title and are under the guardianship of Lord Black, Mr Potter, you should be informed that I have been account manager for your House for a number of years. You will remember that I escorted you to your vault when you first visited Gringotts three years ago?”

“Oh! It’s great to meet you again Griphook. I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you sooner.” Harry hurried out an apology, looking ashamed.

“It is of no concern Mr Potter, you were a child.” The goblin waved him off.

“Still…”

The goblin didn’t let him continue.

“I can perform the ritual now to instate you as the Head of the House of Potter?”

“Perfect,” Sirius said.

Hermione watched with fascination as Griphook summoned an ancient looking piece of parchment. At the top was a large crest; Hermione couldn’t make out exactly what was on the main body of the symbol, but either side were rearing stags. Harry seemed to have noticed the same thing as his lips pulled into a smile, most likely thinking of his patronus and his father’s animagus form. It must be some form of engrained family magic, Hermione thought, making a note to do some research when she got back to Grimmauld. The rest of the parchment was taken up by a long list of names and branches, like a family tree. The line narrowed towards the bottom until it reached Harry’s name, just below his father’s. Hermione noticed that James’ name and various others across the parchment were written in bold, bright red ink, where Harry’s was one of many written in black.

“Mr Potter, if you could please place your thumb print on the bottom corner, just here,” Griphook pointed a long bony finger at a corner of the paper that was stained a dark brown colour.

“Do I need ink?” Harry asked.

“No, Mr Potter, it is a blood signature we require.”

Harry looked puzzled until, with his permission, Sirius took his hand and placed his wand to Harry’s thumb. Harry took a quick inhale as a small cut appeared on the pad of his finger. Harry hesitated slightly, looking at Hermione briefly for reassurance, she nodded and watched as he placed his thumb onto the dusty parchment. Griphook began muttering incantations, low and under his breath, and the room started to feel thick with magic. The magic was heavy, heavier than Hermione had ever experienced before, and she began to feel an overwhelming sensation that she was being pressed into her chair. Griphook continued for a few minutes longer until the weight in the room began to lift and Hermione felt like she could breathe again. Harry looked drained and slumped in his chair. Where his name had been black before on the parchment, it was now glowing red.

“Harry?” she said, looking at her friend who had grown remarkably pale.

Remus went to Harry and placed a hand to his face, “Harry? It’s Remus. How are you feeling?”

“Harry? Are you okay pup?” Sirius sounded unsettled. “What’s wrong with him Griphook,? This didn’t happen to me when I was made Head of my House.”

“It would appear that Lord Potter’s connection to his family magic has been suppressed. The process is not usually so taxing on the wizard. I must admit, it is curious. It took a lot on my side in order to complete the ritual.”

“Can someone do that? Suppress someone’s family magic?” Hermione asked. All of this was new to her.

“It is rare and normally a dark practice. I’ve only read about it in books. Just like some pureblood families might use adoption to make an illegitimate heir legitimate, suppressing an illegitimate child’s family magic would prevent them from drawing on a House’s magic if they were… unwanted,” Sirius muttered, “It’s not a failsafe, but it prevents you drawing on family magic at full capacity. It’s usually only done while wizards are infants, while their magic is more malleable.”

“But why would anyone suppress my magic? My parents didn’t do that did they?” Harry was coming around and looked pissed off.

“Definitely not.” Sirius was quick to answer, “Prongs and Spitfire would never.”

Beyond that, Sirius was at a loss for words.

“I have no idea Pup. I have absolutely no idea.”

Hermione’s mind was working, and she had no doubt that Sirius and Remus were both coming to the same conclusion as her; the only person who would have had access to Harry as an infant would have been Dumbledore.

“Can I get you anything Lord Potter?” Griphook was studying the four of them as they huddled together, absorbed in what had just happened. Remus had returned to his position behind Hermione’s chair.

“No thank you, I’m feeling a lot better now.”

Harry did look better, Hermione thought, the colour had returned to his cheeks and his eyes were brighter.

“Shall we proceed with the adoption?” Griphook summoned a further piece of parchment, this time an extremely large, horizontal scroll bearing the Black family tree. The trio nodded.

“I will require three drops of blood from each of you, yourself included Lord Black.”

Sirius performed the same spell he had used on Harry on himself, squeezing the end of his finger to produce three droplets of dark red blood that fell onto the parchment.

“Now you, Lord Potter.” Harry’s thumb was still bleeding from where it had been cut before and he followed Sirius’ lead. Griphook muttered some further incantations and the paper began to glow. Hermione watched as a new line branched from Sirius’ name to reveal Harry’s.

“Miss… Granger. If you would do the same?”

She stood and held out her hand to Sirius who took it gently. Placing his wand to the tip of her index finger, she felt the sharp sting as his magic pierced the skin. She squeezed her finger to create pressure, watching the pin prick pool with blood. She hovered her hand over the paper, took a deep breath and let three drops of blood hit the parchment. As the final drop hit the paper the room span around her, she began to feel dizzy, and she struggled to focus on standing upright. A warmth grew in her chest, overwhelming all of her other senses, spreading through her veins to the ends of fingertips. It felt like liquid fire. She felt herself dropping into the chair and heard the muffled sound of Griphook chanting, and the concerned voices of Sirius, Remus and Harry. They sounded like echoes in the distance, voices caught behind walls.

“Hermione!”

“Kitten, love?”

“Hermione! Tell me what’s wrong!” Remus’ voice managed to cut through the haze, but he still sounded miles away.

She could hear her blood pulsing in her ears. The rushing noise was making it hard to distinguish much else being said around her. She took a couple deep breathes, the sound of her inhale and exhale a roar inside of her head.

“Griphook?!” Sirius sounded furious.

“I…” Hermione tried to speak, her voice reverberated around her skull, “I’m okay.”

The room began to come back into focus and, as her hearing began to clear, she was acutely aware that the air in the room was suddenly crisp and stark.

“What happened?”

“You’re okay Kitten. How are you feeling? Was it the blood?” Sirius was crouched in front of her and began running his hand through her hair.

“Sirius…” Harry was talking in the background, still stood near Griphook’s desk.

“I’m not funny with blood. Or at least not usually.”

“Do you want some water? I can get you…”

“Sirius…” Harry was persisting. She tried to concentrate on where he was stood near the desk but had to blink a few times before her vision began to clear. She knew that tone.

“Harry?” her mouth was dry and her voice came out at hardly a whisper.

“Just two secs Harry. Are you sure you don’t want anything Hermione? I’m sure Griphook can get you a pepper-up…”

“Sirius!” Harry and Remus shouted in conjunction this time.

“Merlin, give me a second to check on your friend!” Sirius had spun round to face the two wizards. Harry was holding the parchment towards him.

“Look!”

Hermione didn’t know what was happening. Her brain was still shaking in her skull. She blinked her eyes a couple of times again to try and adjust them to focus on whatever Sirius and Harry were looking at but couldn’t manage it. Remus was looking at her with tears in his eyes.

You’re her.

She heard Remus speak but his mouth didn’t move.

“What did you say?”

Remus’ eyes widened but before he could say anything Sirius was speaking.

“It’s not possible.” Sirius’ voice was shaking.

“What’s happening?” Hermione said, pushing herself more upright in her chair.

“What does it mean?” Harry was asking. Sirius had placed the paper on the table and was leant over it, hands steadied on the desk and his shoulders tense. He didn’t reply.

“Harry, what’s going on?” she was worried now and had found her voice again. Had the adoption not worked? Is it because I’m muggleborn? Remus was shaking his head at her. She wasn’t sure why. Harry just looked at her with a puzzled look on his face. She didn’t like it; he looked at her like he didn’t know her.

“Griphook. What is this?” Sirius’ voice was low and challenging.

“Lord Black, it appears that the adoption didn’t work…” Hermione was barely taking the words in, but she felt her heart sink. Oh well, nothing’s really changed, she tried to convince herself.

“…Miss Granger is already a Black. She cannot be adopted into a family she is already part of.”

Where her heart had sank a second previous, it now stopped. Remus let out a sob, unable to contain whatever he had been holding in any longer.

“Remus?”

“I… we…” he sobbed harder, turning himself away from the group, placing his hands against the wall as his shoulders began to shake uncontrollably.

“Moony, what’s… Griphook?”

“As I said, Miss… Granger,” the goblin faltered over her name,”… is already a daughter of the House of Black.”

Hermione tried to comprehend the goblin’s words, but they made no sense. No matter which way she re-arranged them, replayed them, substituted them, it just didn’t make sense. She was Hermione Granger. Harry was still looking at her dumbfounded, but he made his way to her side and reached for her hand.

“Harry, I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I.”  

“Sirius,” Remus still had his back to them all, but his tears appeared to have stopped, “we need Narcissa.”

“Moony, what the hell do you know?”

“I… I don’t know. But we need Narcissa.” He turned to the group. His face was drawn, and his eyes settled on Hermione, a mix of warmth and sadness.

Sirius didn’t seem to know how to react, his grip still tight on the parchment, staring intently at whatever it was showing.

“Do we need to do anything further today?” Sirius’ voice was cold.

“Not today Lord Black. Mr Potter has accepted his title and is now an heir to the House of Black, and well, Miss Granger is… a Black.”

“Very well. We’ll head back to Grimmauld Place. Harry?” he reached for Harry’s arm as if trying to draw him away from Hermione, but Harry held her hand tight.

“Sirius?” Hermione whispered, “What’s happening?”

Sirius’s face softened slightly as she spoke, “I don’t know Kitten. Let’s get home.”

As she stood to leave, she took a quick glance at the Black family tree. Still glowing from the magic, she caught sight of a new calligraphed name on the paper.

Hermione Cassiopeia Black.

That’s not my name.

Following the black line up from the stranger’s name, it didn’t connect to Harry or Sirius, instead splitting and attaching to two others: Regulus Arcturus Black and Lysa Rose Nott.

Chapter Text

Sirius, Remus, Harry and Hermione followed Griphook back to the entrance of Gringotts. He bid them farewell with a bow and left them to exit through the front doors. Time had felt drawn while they were in the building that Hermione almost expected it to be dark when they exited. Instead the mid-morning sun that hit them was disorientating.

“Sirius?” Remus sounded pleading.

“Let’s just get home.”

Hermione hated how angry he sounded. He was trying to downplay it, but he was radiating rage.

The group apparated back to Grimmauld Place in silence. Once in the house they all moved into the drawing room. It was clear none of them wanted to be the first to speak. Hermione couldn’t focus her mind. She was muggleborn, Hermione Jean Granger. Child of Richard and Helen Granger. Something had to have gone wrong with the adoption ritual.

“We need Narcissa…. And Severus.” Remus said, his voice quiet. He kept shooting looks at Hermione. It was unsettling and Hermione found herself looking at the floor to avoid his eye contact.

“Are you fucking kidding me Remus? Severus? Is this some kind of sick joke. What the hell is going on?!”

“I don’t have all of the answers, I wish I did. But trust me, we need Narcissa and Severus. They need to be here.”

“Fucking hell.” Sirius was pacing, “You better send the patronus. Snivellus sure as hell won’t answer to me.”

Hermione was grateful when his pacing ceased, and he sank onto the sofa opposite her. He hadn’t looked at her since they’d left Gringotts and he was doing a good job of continuing to keep her from his direct line of sight.  

Remus summoned his wolf patronus, “Take this to Severus Snape and Narcissa Malfoy…” his voice was shaking again, “I’ve found her. Grimmauld Place.”

Sirius scoffed and Remus sat on the seat to the side of him, a distance between them.

Harry sat next to her; his arm protectively wrapped around her shoulders.

“I don’t know what’s happening Harry,” she whispered.

“Me either. It seems… big.”

Hermione stilled.

“I’m here though,” he continued, giving her shoulders a squeeze.

They sat quietly for a moment longer, the tension in the room building second by second. No one seemed to dare speak, Hermione least so. The silence had stretched so far that she found herself jumping at the sound of two near simultaneous apparition cracks outside of the front door.

Remus went to open the door and there was a flurry of movement in the hallway.

“You’ve found her? When? Tell me everything?” Narcissa’s voice was frantic as she hurried into the drawing room.

“Are you sure wolf? We’ve done this before.” Hermione heard her potions professor drawl, stalking into the room after Narcissa. He was wearing the same long black cloak he wore at school, but rather than the button up under-jacket he always wore, he was wearing a loose dark grey turtleneck.

“Where is she?” Narcissa was scanning the room. She’d noticed Harry, Hermione and Sirius of course, but she was clearly expecting someone else to be present.

Remus moved himself into the centre of the room, “She is Hermione.”

“I know full well who Miss Granger…” Snape began to scoff before Remus stopped him.

“The goblin’s confirmed it. She’s already a Black.”

“Hermione…” Narcissa breathed. In the blink of an eye she was next to Hermione, her hands cupping her face and looking into her eyes. “I thought I was seeing things…”

“How?” Snape was now stood behind Narcissa, staring down at Hermione with a softness she’d never seen in his eyes. The scrutiny was unbearable, and she found herself retreating further back into the sofa. Sirius was still sat across from her, slightly obscured from sight by the new guests, but she could tell he was in a state of shock. He hadn’t even reacted to Snape entering the house. Harry was holding her hand tighter the longer the two adults in front of her stared. Hermione found her breathing getting quicker,

“I… I… ca.. can’t….” her breathing became rapid and she was struggling to catch her breath. Pin pricks of darkness were beginning to distort her vision.

Remus was by her side in an instant, ushering Narcissa and Snape back to give her space. Harry’s hand was on her back rubbing in soothing circular motions. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t catch her breath, her vision nearly fully blacked out.

“Breathe for me Hermione. Take a slow breath through your nose for four counts.”

Hermione kept her eyes tightly squeezed shut as she tried to follow Remus’ instructions. She took an inhale, her breath catching repeatedly as she did so.  

“Good, good, now I want you to hold it for seven. You’re okay, it’s all okay.”

Hermione held her breath, feeling her heart pounding against her ribcage begin to slow slightly.

“Now out for eight. Big exhale.” She opened her eyes to see Remus’ eyes in front of her, blurred at first but, as she followed his instructions, they came into focus, amber, full of concern, but kind. He smiled briefly as her breathing began to still.

“Now, let’s do that again.” He said and Hermione went through the cycle once more.

“What’s going on Remus?” Harry asked the question that Hermione was struggling to form in her brain.

Sirius was standing again, his wand drawn on Snape. “Great question Harry. Yeah, what the fuck is going on?”

“Get your wand out of my face, dog.” Snape was squaring up against Sirius, his hand tight around his own wand.

“Sit Sirius, that isn’t helping.” Remus reprimanded.

“Helping?! Apparently, I can’t adopt Hermione because she’s already a ‘daughter of the House of Black’. Youfreaked out and next thing I know Snivellus and Narcissa are mooning over her. ‘Helping’ would be someone fucking explaining!”

“Sirius…” Harry was trying to diffuse some of the tension.

“Stay out of this Harry. Something fucked is going on here.”

“Siri, it’s just a shock…” Narcissa started.

“A shock you all seemed to have anticipated happening at some point. What? So, you all knew Regulus had a kid?”

Hermione was only partially taking in what was happening, her eyes still concentrating on Remus in front of her, but the mention of the name written on the paper brought everything back into focus.

Sirius’ wand arm was still pointed at Snape.

Narcissa moved, positioning herself between Sirius and the potions professor. “Sirius please, calm down”

“Bullshit.”

“I had my suspicions that something was going on with Lysa and Regulus towards the end of the war, they were spending more and more time together, but I didn’t imagine for a second that they were together. We all thought that Reggie was…” Narcissa’s voice was shaking and Hermione swore that she saw her eyes flick in Snape’s direction. “I didn’t even know that she had been pregnant until after the war was over and I talked with Remus.”

Sirius spun his body to face Remus who was still on the floor near Hermione.

“Lysa was a spy for the Order, and I was her handler.” Remus began without taking his attention away from Hermione.

“She… she found out she was pregnant and told me that both she and her partner wanted to defect. She didn’t tell me who the father was, I swear it Sirius. I would have fought to get him out if I’d known it was Reggie. I tried my hardest even without knowing it was him.” Remus grew quiet.

“She told me who the godparents would be; I think she thought it would help them if they ever wanted to switch sides as well. Dumbledore…”

His eyes flittered between Narcissa and Snape.

“Dumbledore didn’t think it was a strong enough a reason to trust them at the time. He said that they had more use on the inside. I tried to convince him Sirius, honestly.” Remus’s eyes were boring into Sirius’.

“I saw Lysa nearly twice a month throughout the pregnancy, whenever she passed on information, but it suddenly became difficult to meet. Out of the blue, she asked to be fully extracted to an Order safe house. I hadn’t realised, but she had been keeping the pregnancy hidden from her family. I was in the middle of trying to make it happen when we received reports that Voldemort had discovered that she was a mole and had killed her. She would have been around 8 months along at the time. The child was never spoken about, I… I presumed that both mother and baby had died.”

Hermione was listening but wasn’t fully taking in what was being said. They couldn’t be talking about her. She’d seen her baby photo’s. Pictures of her mother holding her in hospital.

Lupin continued, “I am ashamed to say that I didn’t think much more about Lysa after the war. There were so many people to grieve for. She was just yet another friend I’d lost to Voldemort. Then one day, after everything had settled, Narcissa reached out to me.”

Narcissa’s voice was trembling, “While we were at Tiberius’ one night, one of my elves overheard another elf talking to itself, saying something about the ‘Nott baby girl’. I reached out to the only member of the Order I thought would give me the time of day. Remus told me what he knew and told me that Lysa had been pregnant while he was acting as her contact with the Order. It was only at that point that we deduced that Lysa must have given birth before Voldemort killed her. No baby was found at the house where Lysa was attacked and Voldemort had never mentioned that she was pregnant; he would have boasted about it." Narcissa grimaced at the thought. "At that point we figured that the baby was still out there.”

“Cissa told me that Lysa and Reg were close towards the end and we put two and two together. We’ve been looking ever since.”

“She was trying to get Reggie out of there, Sirius. He’d been planning to defect since the day he took the damned mark.” Narcissa was shedding angry tears. “I tried to get more information out of the elf, but the creature was sworn not to say anything. I found out later that, because of my questioning, the poor thing hurt itself so much as punishment for its slip of the tongue, that Tiberius ended up removing it from his service. I haven’t been able to find it since.”

Sirius was swaying where he stood, stunned into silence.

“And you two were made godparents.” He deduced.

“Three,” Snape said quietly, “Narcissa and Lupin contacted me to see if I had any more information about Reggie. I was as in the dark as they were.” The man looked pained.

Remus gave Hermione’s knee a squeeze.

“I… I have parents. My parents are muggles. I have parents.”

Remus was still positioned at her side and she could feel his sadness radiating in waves towards her. She’d never felt someone’s magic so strongly before. Focussing on the rest of the room she realised that she could feel similar amounts of magic from all of occupants. It was almost like she’d gained another sense.

“I’m going to be sick.” Hermione stood suddenly, forcing Remus and Narcissa out of her personal space. Harry stood with her and followed her as she ran out of the room. She took the stairs two at a time, somehow remembering to leap over the bottom step to avoid receiving a tirade from Walburga on top of everything and made her way up into the guest bedroom. Throwing the door to the ensuite open, she collapsed on the floor in front of the toilet and proceeded to throw up. Harry wasn’t far behind her and quickly grabbed hold of her hair to keep it out of the way.

“It’s okay Hermione, I’m here. You’re okay.” He kept repeating the phrase like a mantra, while rubbing her back.

Stomach well and truly emptied; she fell back against the large claw foot bath. The lip of the bath rested against her neck, the porcelain cool on her clammy skin. Harry searched through the drawers of the vanity before he found a washcloth. He wet it and placed it to her head, the cold sending a shiver down her spine. Harry then took a seat next to her, taking her hand in his where it lay on the tiled floor.

“It’s got to be a mistake.”

She could see Harry shaking his head in her peripheral vision. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll work out what happened.”

“But Harry, if it’s true… everything’s a lie. My parents...” She was sobbing now and couldn’t finish the sentence. She wasn’t even sure which set of parents she was referencing. Her mind was going a million miles an hour and she was struggling to get any one thought to fix long enough to articulate anything.

“We’ll work it out. I’ve got you.” He knew her well enough to know that, in that moment, he didn’t need to say anything else. He manoeuvred his arm around her and she buried her face into his shoulder.

“I should go up there,” Narcissa started walking towards the hall.

“Leave her with Harry, Cissa. She needs answers and space. If we can’t give her one, we can at least give her the other.” Remus had risen from his knelt position on floor and was now sat on the sofa. Sirius was pacing and Snape was hovering between the door and the main living space; he looked like he didn’t know whether he was coming or going.

“For Godric’s sake Black, stop your incessant pacing,” he sneered. Sirius paused, making an abrupt turn towards the Professor. Before he could charge at the man, Remus intervened, dragging him onto the sofa beside him.

“Narcissa, Snape, I think you should both sit. We clearly have a lot to discuss.” Remus’ voice was stern.

“Yeah. No shit.” Sirius let out a derisive laugh.

“My dead, traitor of a baby brother, had a child. He had a child with a spy for the Order, so apparently, not so much of a traitor after all. And then, somehow the baby disappeared without a trace. Godric knows how. Muggleborn, Hermione Granger is apparently my niece. Hermione Granger, whose muggle parents we met yesterday. Parents who I’m fairly sure don’t know she’s adopted.” He was ticking off each item on his fingers, his leg bouncing up and down.

“Oh, and I’m only just getting my head around the fact that Dumbledore did nothing to help me gain my freedom despite knowing I was innocent, wanted Harry to return to that basilisk pit of a house he was living in, and appears to have been suppressing Harry’s family magic for years. And, based on what you’ve just said, he also refused to help my brother defect to the Order. Excuse me if I’m a little bit on edge!”

Remus tried to place his hand on Sirius’ thigh to calm him down, but he shook him off and went to stand again in front of the fireplace instead.

“What house?” Snape had raised an eyebrow at Remus.

“What did you say about Harry’s family magic?” Narcissa was aghast.

Remus turned to Snape sighing, “Dumbledore had him with Lily’s sister. We only found out recently. Now that Sirius is pardoned and is Harry’s official guardian, we got him out of there.”

“He was with Petunia?” Snape looked stunned, “Dumbledore put the boy with Petunia?! I’ve wondered for years where the boy was staying during the holidays. My god, the 200 letters?”

Remus and Sirius turned to the man who was now full of agitated energy.

“All of the staff know about how difficult it was to reach Potter with his enrolment letter. It’s almost an urban legend now. When Lucius asked for some information about the boy’s relationship between home and school it was the only thing I was able to give him. Beyond what goes on within the school walls, none of the staff know anything about Potter’s home life.”

Snape ran a hand through his hair.

“Dumbledore would never tell me where he was staying and I couldn’t get it out of McGonagall, and now I know fucking why! What in Salazar’s name was Dumbledore thinking?!”  

Snape was furious. So furious that the other occupants of the room all reached for their wands discreetly, something that the wizard noticed instantly.

“You don’t need to do that,” his voice was lowered but still shaking with rage.

“I didn’t think you would feel so strongly about the matter, considering that, from what I hear, you make Harry’s life hell on a daily basis while he’s at the school.” Sirius spat, staring the man down.

“I treat Potter like any other child who doesn’t live up to their potential. He’s Lily’s son. I, more than most people, know what he could be capable of.” He said it as a matter of fact but there was bite in his voice.

“Instead, he is lazy, relies on that girl up there for academic help, and he constantly flaunts school rules with no regard for the consequences. I will admit, Dumbledore has aided him in the last matter. Regardless of all that,” he sounded more composed now, “the fact that he was left with that woman all this time is unforgiveable. Anyone with a brain cell would have realised that Petunia was a terrible choice of guardian. She was a viper when we were children and hated Lily the moment she received her letter to Hogwarts. The idea that Dumbledore placed Lily’s boy with her…”

In a moment of acknowledgment between the two men, Sirius spoke again, “She told him James and Lily died in a car crash.”

Snape looked ready to break something, his wand tip crackling in his grasp.

“He’s out now.” Remus said, calming the room. “We got him out. There’s a lot going on that we need to unpack, but I think we should address the most pressing matter at the moment, Hermione.”

“I was sure I was going mad.” Narcissa seated herself on one of the sofas. “When we met the other day for the first time, she looked so much like Lysa. I thought I was seeing things, but then I kept feeling so aware of her emotions. And then when she used the phrase…” her eyes were glistening, tears silently making their way down her face.

“She couldn’t have known what she was saying. It’s a coincidence.” Sirius’ voice was low, and he had his back to the room, arms braced against the mantelpiece.

“You know it’s got to be more than a coincidence.” Narcissa continued, “And Kreacher… I wonder how long he’s known? We all saw how he reacted to her.”

“What is the importance of the phrase?” Remus spoke but Snape cut over him.

“Kreacher? He’s still alive?” 

“Don’t think the damned elf would give me the satisfaction of dying in my lifetime.” Sirius huffed, Snape looked at him to continue,

“Hermione called him yesterday and he came, practically on hands and knees calling her ‘Missy’. Being muggleborn, or I guess, muggle-raised, considering what we know now, Hermione didn’t realise that that isn’t normal house elf behaviour towards someone who isn’t part of the family.”

“He must have known since the moment she stepped in the house. He hasn’t called her names once and based on what you’ve told me, we know that was beaten into him from birth.” Remus paused for a second, “Merlin, Hermione’s pureblood.”

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

“Pureblood and daughter of two of the oldest Sacred 28 families.” Narcissa added.

“Fuck.” Sirius had his hand on his head.

“You are also her Uncle, and by proxy, her magical guardian. That changes nothing considering that was the purpose of your trip to Gringotts today…”

“You were going to adopt the girl?” Snape’s eyebrows rose.

“That girl saved my life, fought for my freedom and has kept Harry safe and loved the last three years. The least I could do was offer her the protection of House Black.” Sirius snapped.

“Understood.”

“What do we do now? We need to bring her fully into the family,” Narcissa was composed again.

“She has family, she won’t want to do that… not right away anyway.” Remus replied.

“We need to know how much her muggle parents know, and how she’s been hidden all this time.” Snape said, “Is there any chance they knew she was adopted and just hadn’t told her?”

“We spoke to them about the magical adoption yesterday. I’m sure the topic would have made them uneasy if they knew she was already adopted. I didn’t get anything like that from them.” Remus replied. He was clenching his hands tightly.

“Me neither. I think they’re in the dark. Obliviation?” Sirius suggested to the room.

“That’s the most likely explanation if they truly don’t know anything. That would mean it was arranged before Lysa and Reggie died, or there is a third party involved.” 

“Her Grandmother lives near our estate in France, and apparently knew Hermione was a witch without having to be told.” Narcissa announced. “It could be a starting point.”

 “God, I feel sick.” Remus muttered. His face was pale and he kept wringing his hands in an attempt to distract himself from the nausea he was feeling.

“Me too.” Narcissa and Snape answered at the same time.

“It’s the bond.” Sirius muttered. “Ever since Harry acknowledged me as his godparent, I feel him. I was planning on working on it with Harry over the summer.”

“She’s really hurting.”

Sirius could tell that Narcissa was itching to go upstairs. He looked at Remus who seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“Why don’t you go up, Cissa?” Sirius conceded.

The witch stood without hesitation and made towards the hallway before pausing. She smoothed out her dress and brushed her hands across her cheeks. Sirius noticed the slight roll of her shoulders as she prepared herself to go and meet her goddaughter properly for the first time.

When Narcissa reached Hermione’s bedroom, because it was Hermione she had decorated it for, she stalled. She wasn’t a naturally nervous person, she’d been taught how to command the attention of a room since she was a child, but entering into Hermione’s space, she didn’t know how to handle herself.

What if she didn’t want to see her? That would be understandable. But what if it wasn’t just a fleeting feeling.

What if she wanted answers? She didn’t have any. This girl was a stranger and yet her magic was now tightly entwined with hers. Salazar, she wanted to speak to Lucius. He’d have some sensible, reasonable thing to say; some form of encouragement.

Stepping over the threshold she found the room empty. She was ready to turn back and try Harry’s room before she heard hushed tones coming from the bathroom.

She tried to keep as silent as possible as she walked across the carpeted room.

“… that’s stupid Hermione. I don’t even know why you’d say that.”

“But someone hid me Harry. If all of this is true, when the war was over they could have come and got me and told me who my family was!”

“Maybe it’s like why Dumbledore kept me at the Dursley’s? Maybe whoever it was thought you’d be safest with muggles?”

“Do you think my parents know?”

“I don’t have a clue. But I do know that, regardless of whether they knew or not, they love you.”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t pull that face. You know it’s true. This doesn’t change who you are, you’re still Hermione Granger, the cleverest and most brilliant witch I know.”

Narcissa didn’t know much about the Potter boy beyond Draco’s rantings, but from what she’d seen of him the last couple of days he seemed to be a sweet child, and, in this moment, she was eternally grateful to see first-hand how much he cared for Hermione. She mustered up her courage and knocked on the bathroom door.

“Hermione dear, can I come in?”

There was the sound of shuffling and Narcissa waited until the door was opened for her by Harry. He looked sheepish as his eyes flicked to where Hermione was sat on the floor, her knees tucked against her chest.

“Can I sit beside you?” Narcissa moved past Harry, taking the small jerk of Hermione’s head as permission. She sat on the tiled floor, rearranging her dress to try and maintain a sense of decorum. She found herself thinking back to a time she had sat consoling Andromeda on the very same bathroom floor.  

“I am so, so sorry that you’ve learnt about all of this in this manner. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now. But I need you to know that you have all of our support in however you want to approach things next.”

Hermione didn’t reply, just nodded her head. Harry was awkwardly hovering near the door watching the scene. Narcissa looked to him and he gave her a look of encouragement, so she continued.

“If you have any questions, I’ll try and answer them as best as I can. I’m afraid I’m in the dark about an awful lot just like you, but we’re all going to try and get to the bottom of this… if that’s something you want us to do.”

“It’s just so much.” Hermione began to cry again and Narcissa pulled her into an embrace.

“Shh.. I know dear. I know.” The small witch was shaking in her arms and Narcissa stroked her hair in an attempt to soothe her, “Harry, could you go and ask Kreacher to put together a light lunch, this has been a shock for everyone and I think we all need some sustenance. Ask him for a calming draft as well.”

“I don’t need one of those,” Hermione lifted her head and wiped the tears away from her face, trying to compose herself.

Narcissa chuckled, “Who said it was for you?” she winked at the girl and received a small smile in return. Harry left the room.

“Is Sirius mad?”

“Sirius? Of course not! He’s definitely not cross with you. I hope you know that. I know for a fact that once he’s got over the shock of everything he’ll be over the moon. His relationship with his brother was… tense towards the end, but they were brothers and it wasn’t always like that. Sirius has a lot to process, and not much information to go on.”

“Was Regulus…” Hermione paused, and Narcissa understood, the name was now synonymous with ‘my father’, “… he was a death eater wasn’t he?”

“Yes. Much like Lucius, Sirius and Regulus’ parents expected them both to follow in their footsteps and join Voldemort’s cause. When Sirius refused and ran away to the Potter’s, the pressure of that expectation fell to Regulus. I don’t doubt for a second that if he’d tried to do what Sirius did, he wouldn’t have survived it. He was trying to defect before he died.” 

“Who is Lysa Nott? I’m related to Theo, aren’t I?”

“Yes, Lysa would have been Theo’s Aunt. She was Tiberius’ sister and my best friend.”

Narcissa brought to mind the curly haired witch. Her hair had been lighter than Hermione’s but had the same curls. Book smart and witty, they’d grown up in the same pureblood circles, sticking together at school even when they were sorted into different houses.

“We knew each other since we were little girls. We went to all the same etiquette lessons and were inseparable, even when she was sorted into Ravenclaw and I into Slytherin.” She found herself choking down emotion as the memories flooded back.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione had taken her hand.

“I grieved for my friend a long time ago.” She collected herself.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when Hermione spoke again.

“And Professor Snape was Regulus’ friend?”

“Yes, one of the only true friends I think either of them had. The den of snakes tends to force alliances on people, relationships made for political reasons, but those two were genuine friends." She hesitated, "They were inseparable.”

“And Remus?”

“I must admit, I don’t know much about his relationship with either Regulus or Lysa. He was Lysa’s handler while she was spy for the Order, but beyond that I’m not sure whether they knew of each other. Remus was very studious at school, so I can imagine that he crossed paths with her because of that, but it appears their friendship was primarily formed during the war. I think he’s best placed to ask about that.”

“Hm.” Hermione nodded.

“For my part, Reggie was good. He was my sweet baby cousin, trapped in a family full of hate.”

“Okay.” Hermione

“Do you feel up to heading back downstairs? We can stay up here as long as you want.”

“It’s why you all looked at me odd when Kreacher obeyed me, isn’t it? Because he must have known who I was.”

“How much Kreacher knows, we’re not sure. House elf magic is innate and his reaction to you definitely took us by surprise; but yes, that will be why you can command him. Whether he knows who you are I’m unsure, but he clearly knows what you are; a Black.”

“… A Black. My name is different. On the paper it said my name is ‘Hermione Cassiopeia Black.”

“It’s a beautiful name.”

Narcissa stood, arranging her dress to look presentable again before offering Hermione her hand to help her up. The girl took it and rose to her feet. Narcissa took a good look at her face, it was blotchy and red from crying, but she recognised those eyes, a rich brown with glints of hazel, just like Lysa’s. She reached out her hand to cup Hermione’s cheek,

“Today would have ended with me saying this whatever the case and I know it may be too soon, but, welcome to the family Hermione.”

“Thank you,” the young witches eyes began to swim again before she rolled her shoulders, wiped her hands over her face and shuddered. She took a deep breath and gave a quick nod of her head, “Right, I think I’m ready. We probably shouldn’t leave Sirius and Professor Snape together for too long.” She forced a weak smile.

Narcissa laughed, “Quite right. If I may?” She raised her wand and indicated to the gold gilt mirror on the wall in front of the vanity. Hermione moved in front of it and let out a small laugh, “Godric, I look a state.” She reached for the handcloth she’d used earlier in an attempt to clean her face.

“Let me.”

Hermione turned back to Narcissa, giving her the nod of permission to cast a cleansing charm. Narcissa rid Hermione of the black smudges of mascara that had begun to pool under her eyes.

“Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

Narcissa watched as the young girl held her shoulders back and left the bathroom to make her way downstairs.

Your goddaughter is strong, she thought to herself. Lysa, she’s brilliant.

Hermione didn’t feel much better as she made her way downstairs, but her thoughts had slowed and she knew there wasn’t much point hiding out in the bathroom any longer. Better face the issue head on, whatever that meant.

She followed the sound of voices and found Sirius, Remus, Snape and Harry all sat around the kitchen table. Kreacher had put together a spread of bread, cold meats and salad, but no one seated at the table had made a start. Entering the room, Narcissa close on her heels, the stunted conversation that had been taking place stopped.

“Kitten, how are you feeling?” Sirius rose and made his way to her, placing his hands on each of her shoulders.

“Oh, you know, like I’ve just found out my entire existence is a lie and am no longer good old muggleborn Hermione Granger,” she tried to sound light-hearted. Sirius grimaced.

“My head feels less like a herd of hippogriffs are trampling through it.”

“Good. Are you up for something to eat?”

“I don’t know…” she didn’t trust herself not to throw up again.

“Just pick at what you want.” Sirius led her to a seat next to him.

She shuffled in her seat, conscious that she was being watched from all angles. Harry, noticing her discomfort, began helping himself to food, loading up his plate. Soon the others were doing the same. Hermione grabbed some salad and began nibbling at a round of cucumber.

“We want to take your lead on all of this Kitten. There’s no pressure from any of us about what happens next. We don’t need to do anything just yet.”

“I think… I think I need to know if my parents knew. If they did, I think I deserve that conversation with them… to know why they didn’t tell me. And if they didn’t… well, that means someone has messed with their memories doesn’t it? They don’t deserve that. That’s misuse of magic against muggles…”

“It would be, yes. Whenever you want to go and talk to them, we’ll be there with you.” Remus replied, giving her a reassuring smile.

“What happens though… if they didn’t know?” her voice was small in the room.

No one answered immediately, it was Professor Snape who broke the silence.

“If they didn’t know, this will all be as much of a shock to them as it has been for you. But they have been your parents for 13 years, they are your mother and father.”

It was weird to hear her potions professor speak so gently and about such personal things.

“I could, with your permission, test their memories to see if there is any residue lingering to give us an idea as to what happened. Depending on the strength of the spell used, there is the possibility that we can reverse any memory modification.”

Hermione nodded.

“And… if, after you have spoken to them, you deemed it necessary, I could also remove any conversation revealing that you were adopted… That is, if you decided that you preferred for them not to know.” He said the last part hesitantly.

“Definitely not. If they had their memories altered, I don’t want anyone else tampering with their minds. They deserve the truth. I’ll just… deal with it.”

“That’s completely up to you,” Snape’s face was sympathetic, and when she caught his eye he looked away. In the moment she hoped he was feeling bad for all of the times he had treated her like crap at Hogwarts, but she quickly scolded herself internally for thinking like that. It was definitely a relationship however, if she wanted it to be a relationship, that would need some work.

“I think we should let Andromeda and Lucius know,” Narcissa stated to the room.

“And Theo.” Hermione added.

“Hm?”

“He’s my cousin, isn’t he? He’s also my friend.”

“Kitten, I don’t think you know what his father is like…” Sirius began.

“I know exactly what his dad is like.” She hadn’t expected her reply to come out so sharp, but Sirius seemed taken aback.

“We were meant to be keeping in touch this summer, so I know exactly what would happen if one of my letters fell into the wrong hands. Don’t worry, Theo drilled that one into me. But apparently, he’s my cousin. And from what he’s said, I gather he probably has as bad a home life as Harry did. I think he’d like to know this.”

“She’s right Sirius. The boy spends the majority of his summers at the Manor with us, partly because he’s Draco’s friend but, on my end, it’s mainly to get him out of his father’s house.”

“He tends to stay at Hogwarts during the holidays if he doesn’t have alternative offer.” Snape added.

“Regardless Sirius, at the end of the day, we aren’t going to be able to keep this quiet for long.” Narcissa’s brow was furrowed.

“What do you mean?” Harry spoke up.

“Many pureblood families have tapestries similar to the one in the drawing room. I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s had an update.”

“Fuck.” It seemed Sirius and Remus had not, in fact, noticed the change. Narcissa raised her eyebrows at their choice of language and they both threw her apologetic looks.

“The Sacred 28 families are so intertwined it wouldn’t surprise me if there have been updates on other tapestries as well. I expect the Malfoy tapestry will show this development, as will the Notts,” she continued.

“Fuck.”

“Sirius,” Narcissa chastised.

“Do you think we have anything to worry about. Will Tiberius want a claim on her?”

Hermione didn’t appreciate being talked about like she was an object to be passed around.

Narcissa thought for a moment, “No, he disowned his sister when it was found she had been spying for the Order. I don’t think he’d want anything to do with her child.”

Hermione shuddered. Was this the family she had? The world that she was now part of. Where belief systems tore families apart. An uncle who would hate her without even knowing her.

“Regardless, he couldn’t claim her though right?” Harry asked, “She’s a Black. So, Sirius is naturally her next of kin?”

“Yes, the only way Tiberius would be able to fight it would be through the Wizengamot and I’m fairly certain he wouldn’t have a chance in hell of that working out for him.” Sirius placed a reassuring hand on Hermione’s.

Kreacher made his way into the kitchen at that moment, ready to begin clearing away the residue of their lunch. The adults in the room looked at each other and Hermione wondered who was going to ask the elf what he knew. It was Narcissa.

“Kreacher, did you know that Hermione was a daughter of the House of Black?”

“Yes Missy Cissa, I could sense her through the bond. Black blood, pureblood.”

“Did you know that she was Regulus’ daughter?”

“Master Reggie?” The elf’s voice wavered and his wrinkled eyes grew large and began to fill with tears, “Master Regulus had a child?” He began to wail before throwing himself at Hermione’s feet. “Oh Missy Hermione, it is an honour to serve the daughter of the noble Regulus.”

“I think that answers that question,” Snape said under his breath.

Kreacher continued to howl, “Master Regulus would be so ashamed in Kreacher. I am your servant.” He moved to the edge of the table and made as if he was about to start banging his head against the thick wood in a similar fashion to how Hermione had seen Dobby punish himself for disobeying Goyle Sr.’s instructions.

“Stop Kreacher!” She shouted, managing to halt the elf before his head made contact with the wood. “You have nothing to apologise for. No-one knew until today.”

“But Kreacher has not treat you as Master Regulus would wish.”

“You have treated me perfectly well Kreacher, I uh, couldn’t wish for a better elf,” she looked to Sirius for encouragement.

“You’ve been wonderful Kreacher. I have been very happy with how you have behaved towards Hermione.” The elf began to wail again, this time out of relief.

“I think we should visit the manor to confirm whether the other tapestries have updated. We can inform Lucius and Draco at the same time. I was expecting Meda soon as well, we were going to go over some renovation ideas we had for this place.” Narcissa said.

Hermione felt exhausted from all of the events that had taken place over the last few days. All of the conversations and revelations. The idea of going to her parents and experiencing whatever traumatic conversation that would no doubt bring was dawning on her.

“Andromeda?” Snape was surprised, not privy to the reunion that had taken place days previous.

“We have reconnected in light of, or by virtue of, Sirius’ release.” Narcissa didn’t react to the Professor’s tone, simply stating the matter as fact.

“I see.” Snape didn’t say anything else, taking a sip of the water in front of him.

“Got a problem with that, Snape?” Sirius challenged, levelling the man a hard stare.

“Not at all. I saw in the Prophet that all of the Blacks were present at your trial; I simply hadn’t realised the degree in which you had all come back together. You must admit the sight will have been jarring to parties on both sides of the house. Clearly, the House of Black has truly reformed…” he said it with a sneer, goading Sirius with memories of the Black family of the past,

“Yes, well, this House of Black will be quite different to previous iterations.”

“Obviously.” Snape rolled his eyes.

“Severus…” Remus began, before pausing, clearly trying to determine the best choice of words before continuing,

“We,” he motioned to everyone at the table, “… we are not fully trusting of Dumbledore at present, due to… certain things that have come to light recently.”

The cloaked wizard’s eyebrow cocked slightly in curiosity.

“News about Hermione will no doubt get out soon enough based on what Narcissa has said. But until it does, we would appreciate your discretion. Anything discussed among this group regarding Harry and Hermione should remain that way.”

“I understand.” Snape nodded, his gaze hovering on Hermione momentarily.

“That extends to any death eater buddies you might still be in contact with.” Sirius snarled.

Hermione and Harry shared equal looks of surprise. Was Snape an ex-death eater as well? Dumbledore seemed to trust him explicitly. Narcissa noticed the teenagers shocked faces.

“Sirius,” she indicated to the two children.

Snape spoke sharply, “If you hadn’t picked up, dog, I have an invested interest in whatever happens here. As well as my own reasons not to run straight to Dumbledore.” He turned to Hermione, holding her gaze fully for the first time since she’d come back downstairs.

“Herm… Miss… Granger. I understand that, of the newly found godparents you have in this room, I have the furthest to go to prove my worth, our relationship being what it has been the last few years.” He didn’t seem to know how to continue, taking a long breath.

“I am, however, your godfather. Regulus was my best friend and my…” Hermione ignored the sound of Sirius growling beside her and the subsequent sound of Remus hitting him. “I will endeavour to do right by you and make up for my behaviour.”

Hermione didn’t know how to reply. She wasn’t ready to forgive and forget how he treated her, and the other Gryffindors at school, but she couldn’t ignore the sentiment of what he was saying. She looked at Harry, who shrugged, evidently equally unsure as to how she should respond.

“Thank you for saying that. I…” she paused,”…I’m not ready to forget the way that you’ve treat me and my friends just because it turns out you’re my godfather. But… I’m open for things to change. And not just because I’m a pureblood and your goddaughter,” she hastily added.

Snape simply nodded his head, his face riddled with shame. Sirius patted her leg.

Narcissa rose, “Hermione, what order would you like to proceed in? We don’t have to do this all today.”

“No, I won’t be able to go home tonight knowing what I know and not say anything. I need to speak to my parents today.”  

Hermione cast a quick tempus spell, it wasn’t 1.30 yet. Her parents would still be working and she didn’t want to call them away from the practice for this conversation. That would start things off tense from the beginning.

“My parents will be at work. Can we go to the Manor first?”

“Of course.”

“Hermione, it might be best to give your parents a heads up that we’ll be coming around, so we don’t ambush them like last time?” Sirius suggested.

She pulled out her wand and cast a summoning charm for her handbag, ignoring the incredulous reactions from the adults in the room. Bag acquired, she pulled out her mobile phone. Dialling her parent’s office, she left a message with the receptionist to let them know that she’d be bringing Remus and Sirius over later to talk with them. When she looked back at the room she took in the faces of the wizards and witch around her. Sirius and Remus looked immensely curious at the mobile devise. Harry looked jealous, the only one present who probably appreciated what it meant for a teenager to have a mobile phone. Snape looked remarkably non-plussed and Narcissa, bless her, seemed to be trying hard not to look put out at the use of muggle technology.

“Done.” Hermione announced, ignoring them and manoeuvring herself out from the kitchen bench she was sat at.

The rest of the group began to rise and they gathered next to the kitchen fireplace ready to floo to the Manor.

Chapter Text

Hermione stepped out of the floo after Narcissa, closely followed by Harry and the rest of the entourage. She couldn’t contain a gasp escaping her lips as she took in the room they had entered. They were stood in a large entrance hallway with a double height ceiling, there were curved staircases on either side of the room leading up to a balcony that surrounded three sides of the room. A large crystal chandelier hung centrally from an ornate ceiling, the shards of glass casting reflections on the walls. The walls themselves were covered in paintings of various sizes, some clearly magical and others muggle. The floor was white marble with a light beige ripple running through each of the tiles unique to each square and was so polished Hermione could easily have believed it had never been walked on. Hermione knew that Malfoy was rich but, Merlin, this was another level. This was landed gentry, friends with the Queen type money in muggle terms. Harry seemed to be thinking the same, his eyes like saucers as he gazed around the room. None of the adults seemed fazed and Hermione made an attempt to school her emotions before their host caught her staring.

“Mipsy?” Narcissa called into the space and a small house elf wearing a pure white satin pillowcase emerged at her side.

“Yes Mistress?” Her voice was high and squeaky, reverberating against the hard surfaces of the room.

“Could you please inform Lucius and Draco that we have visitors and that I would like them to meet us in the south drawing room? Could you also let Remi know that we will be needing refreshments?”

“Of course, Mistress.”

“Thank you Mipsy.” Narcissa gave her a wide smile and the elf disappeared with a gentle pop. “Please, follow me.”

Narcissa proceeded across the hall and through one of the many doors that lined the room, her heels clicking on the floor as she went. The first room they entered appeared to be a formal reception room, wingback chairs, chesterfields and small tables scattered throughout. They passed through the room and into another, this one housed more chairs, and a substantial drinks cabinet in the corner. Harry caught Hermione’s eye and she rolled her eyes. I know! She mouthed at him. The next room they entered was a formal dining room, with a table of ridiculous proportions. Hermione had thought the table at Grimmauld, suitable for 20 people, was excessive, but this table put that one to shame. They didn’t stop, beyond was, what appeared to be a more informal hallway. Stepping through a final door, Narcissa presented them with a drawing room. It was still extravagant and far posher than anywhere Hermione had been before, but she could tell that this space was familial and used. Large windows at the far end of the room housed a window seat, and plants and vases of flowers adorned various surfaces. The coffee table in the centre of the room was littered with books, including, Hermione spied, a copy of their defence book from that year; Draco clearly studied here. The room was light and airy, the soft furnishings all covered in varying shades of cream and pale blue. The sofas and chairs looked comfortable rather than the formal seating provided in the previous rooms.  

“Please take a seat.”

Sirius slumped himself into an armchair, apparently quite at home surrounded by the opulence. Remus took a seat on the cream chesterfield sofa and Harry joined him. Snape seemed more content to linger near the door. Hermione took herself to the window seat, wanting to be out of the main attention of the room for a moment.

Another house elf appeared, wearing an equally expensive pillowcase, this time in a silver fabric, and proceeded to take drinks orders. Hermione tried to refuse a beverage but, in the end, relented into requesting a pumpkin juice when the small elf in front of her refused to back down or move on without an answer.

“Mother, do you know where Mipsy has put my broom? I was planning on flying this afternoon and I can’t find it anywhere.” Draco barrelled into the room, stopping abruptly when he saw they had company. He was wearing dark blue trousers and a cream jumper and he looked far more casual than Hermione had ever seen him before. He’s in his own house, of course he’s going to look relaxed, Hermione chastised herself.

“She took it to be polished and be given its yearly check, I think you can wait a day before going out, or you can use one of the others.” Narcissa gave her son a kiss on the cheek.

“What’s happening?” Draco scanned the room again, his eyes landing on Hermione’s for a moment. He seemed to take her in, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. Maybe Narcissa hadn’t done as good a job at clearing up her makeup as she had first thought. She turned away to avoid his stare and looked out of the window. His gaze didn’t linger long, his attention quickly back on the other adults stood around the room.

“Uncle Severus, I wouldn’t have anticipated seeing you here with this lot.”

Hermione kept her gaze on the window but heard Harry make a strangled sound as Malfoy addressed their Professor. Uncle? Well that explains the favouritism.

“It’s not quite how I expected to spend my Tuesday either. I haven’t forgotten about Belby’s potion book you requested. He wrote to me earlier in the week to say he’s nearly finished his final draft.”

“Oh, cool, thanks. It’s good to see you again Lord Black, Professor Lupin. Um, hi Potter… Granger.” Draco seemed confused as to how to address the mishmash of acquaintances in his house, some friends, some family, some foe. Hermione turned to watch the scene with amusement.

Harry replied with nothing more than a ‘Hi’. She said nothing.

“I think you can call me Sirius, kid. And I know for a fact Remus is about to tell you to call him by his first name too.” Sirius offered, standing to shake Draco’s hand.

“Oh right, yeah, okay.”

“My dragon, do you think you would be able to ask Theodore to come over?”

Hermione looked over at Harry, knowing he was definitely going to have reacted to the moniker Narcissa had given her son. She was right, Harry was staring at his shoes with far too much interest, but she could see that his cheeks were pulled up as he tried to prevent his face forming into a wide grin.

Draco seemed to notice as well and pulled a face of irritation before responding to his mother.

“Theo? Yeah, I guess? I’ll floo him now. What’s going on?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. Just Theo, Draco, I don’t want Tiberius to join him.”

“He’s away at the moment according to Theo’s last owl.”

“Very good.”

Draco looked at his mother, apparently waiting for more of an explanation.

“Draco, I didn’t ask you for the good of my health.”

The boy made a light huffing noise and skulked out of the room, nearly bumping into Lucius and Andromeda in the process.

“Watch where you’re going Draco,” Lucius called after him. “Quite the gathering you’re having here Narcissa? I was expecting Sirius later today, but not a full entourage… My my, Severus included.” He quirked an eyebrow at the man, who bowed his head in his direction in return. “I presume this has something to do with why you left the manor so suddenly earlier my dear?”

“And I don’t believe this is a decorating committee,” Andromeda greeted her sister and cousin with a kiss on each cheek.

“I’m afraid not. Some things have come to light that need addressing. Family business. We’re just waiting on one more guest.” As Narcissa spoke the recognisable voice of Theodore Nott drifted down the corridor. Hermione found herself unable to stop a smile from forming as she listened to him witter on.

“Just charging through my fireplace all moody and unannounced. What would your parents say?”

“My mother sent me.”

“Ahh wonderful woman. But… I mean, what if I’d been bathing? All naked and soapy? What would you have done then?”

“Chucked a towel at you and obliviated the image from my memory.” The room heard Draco deadpan.

“A sadness for your memory, I can assure you.”

Hermione saw Sirius and Remus suppress a chuckle, while Narcissa rolled her eyes.

“And what if I’d been entertaining myself… you know, making myself… happy… ay?”

Lucius cut him off as he entered the room.

“I don’t think you want to finish that line of thought Theodore,” he sighed. He already looked worn-out at being in the boy’s company. This was clearly a familiar experience.

Sirius couldn’t hold back his laughter at that, drawing Theo’s attention to the occupants of the room. He was wearing grey baggy slacks, a dark brown and orange diamond check knitted tank top, with a beige long sleeve shirt underneath. He had left the shirt untucked, so that the bottom was sticking out from under the jumper vest on top. It was an odd combination, but somehow the curly haired wizard was pulling it off. That combined with his height and ridiculous cheek bones had Hermione pondering that he could probably be a model in another life.

“Lovely to see you Lucius. Colour me intrigued as to what this merry band of wizards are doing together that requires my attendance… MIA!” He sprinted across the room to where he had clocked her, and she suddenly found herself being lifted into the air in a hug. Taking a proper look at her he simply said, “I knew it would fucking work.”

“Theo…” Narcissa sounded tired.

“Who’s Mia?” Sirius asked the room.

“Sorry Cissa,” Theo turned back to rest of the room. “Hermione is Mia. Who honestly names a child that mouthful of a name? Mia is way easier.” Certain inhabitants in the room all stilled slightly before he continued and the room relaxed again, “Oh look, Potter’s here as well. Bet you never thought you’d see the day Draco? Merlin, this gets stranger and stranger.”

Sirius was fulling laughing now, unable to hide his amusement at the energy filled teenager, who, apparently, lacked any semblance of a filter.

“I think some introductions are needed,” he said laughing through tears, “I am Sirius Black.”

He held out his hand to Theo.

“You’d be shocked to know, but I had in fact guessed that. What, with your wanted poster being plastered everywhere for the last year. You clean up mighty well. Theodore Nott, but you can call me Theo.”

“Obviously, you know the Malfoys, Harry and Hermione, and your Professors. For full disclosure, Remus is my fiancé.”

“Lucky man,” Theo winked at Remus and Hermione watched as the defence professor ran his hand over his face as a slight pink tinge began to reach his ears. She was sure she heard him mutter a swearword under his breath.

“This is my cousin, and Narcissa’s sister, Andromeda.”

“Enchanté.” Theo made an exaggerated bow and took Andromeda’s hand.

“Theo…” Narcissa was exasperated now, “Please for the love of Merlin, sit down. Your energy is giving me a headache.”

“Blame Mia. She packed me off at the end of term with muggle sweets. You’ll need to send more, I’m all out.”

“Theo! They were meant to last you at least half the summer!”

“You should have thought about that before you gave me crack laced sweets.”

“They are not crack laced!” She swatted at his arm.

“Tell that to my raging addiction.”

“I can’t believe you’ve eaten them all. How aren’t you ill? It’s only been a couple of days!”

“How do you know what crack is?” Sirius interjected.

Before Theo could reply Lucius stopped him, “Theodore. It apparently hasn’t crossed your mind that this isn’t just a social call?”

“You mean, you didn’t just want to see my gorgeous face Lucy?” Theo pouted.

“For Salazar’s sake, Nott, take a seat,” Snape snapped.

Theo stood to attention, saluted his head of house and sat, dragging Hermione with him, onto the sofa opposite Sirius.

Everyone else found seats around them so that they were all collected around the coffee table. Those not already privy to the events of the morning didn’t seem to know who would be taking the lead. Draco was looking at his father, Andromeda at Sirius, Lucius at his wife and Theo at Hermione. Narcissa spoke first.

“As most of you will be aware, Sirius attended Gringotts this morning to formally adopt Harry and Hermione…”

Theo whistled, “Woh, Mia, that’s wicked,” he bumped his shoulder to hers.

“Theodore, if you could refrain from interjecting at everything…” Narcissa sighed.

He mimed a locking motion on his lips, before chucking an imaginary key over his shoulder. Hermione’s stomach began to twist in anticipation of what was to come.

Sirius took over.

“The adoption of Harry went well, although when he claimed his seat as Head of House Potter, it has been brought to light that his family magic has been suppressed for a number of years.” There were gasps from Andromeda and Lucius. Draco and Theo looked equally shocked. Okay, this is a big deal, Hermione thought. Andromeda reached her arm around Harry, drawing him into her side. Like Hermione, he didn’t seem to fully understand the implications of what it all meant, but he melted into the older witches embrace all the same.

“Obviously we will want to investigate who was involved and when this took place. Lucius, we would be grateful for your involvement in this matter.”

“Of course. Although, I imagine you already have some ideas as to the who.”

Sirius simply hummed in reply, before looking to Remus for encouragement to continue. Remus gave him a small smiled and squeezed his hand.

“When we went through the adoption process with Hermione however, it didn’t work.”

“What?” Andromeda was incredulous.

“Is it because she is muggleborn? That shouldn’t be an issue?” Lucius questioned.

Hermione was taken aback to hear that the man sounded genuinely offended on her behalf that the adoption hadn’t worked. Sirius raised his hand to stop the questions. Theo tried to catch her eye, nudging her in the ribs to grab her attention, but she kept her gaze in her lap. She could tell Malfoy was watching her as well.

“The adoption didn’t work, because Hermione is already a Black. As revealed by our family tree when her blood touched the parchment.”

“A Black?” Lucius choked.

“Woh…” Theo muttered.

“But… who?” Andromeda was struggling for words.

“Reggie.” Sirius replied, and Andromeda burst into tears.

Hermione didn’t dare look up, tears beginning to sting in her eyes as she focussed intently on her hands, picking at the skin around her thumb. She was pulling at the skin too hard, a slight pool of red gathering in the crease where her fingernail met her skin, but the distraction was helping.

“Salazar….” Lucius spoke again, “but... he wasn’t seeing anyone?”

There was movement and Hermione sensed that someone had stood abruptedly, but she refused to look up.

“It was Lysa.” Narcissa replied.

“Lysa?!” Lucius couldn’t contain the shock from his reaction.

“Who’s Lysa?” That was Malfoy’s voice. There was a beat of silence before Theo replied.

“Lysa was my Aunt. That’s right, isn’t it? That’s why I’m here?” He sounded so different to the boy that had entered the room moments ago, his voice hushed and nervous.

“Yes, it appears that Hermione is the daughter of Regulus Black, Sirius’ brother, and Lysa Nott.” Remus answered. His tone was lowered and matched Theo’s.

Draco spoke again, “This is madness. She’s…”

Hermione snapped her head up to glare at him. “She’s what, Malfoy? Go on, finish that sentence. A mudblood? A dirty muggleborn? How dare she be a Black?” He was taken aback by her outburst.

“No, I just… it’s a lot.”

“Oh really, it’s a lot is it? Have you just found out that your whole upbringing was a lie? That you’re a pureblood, descended from two of the most prominent wizarding families? That your parents either lied to you all of your life or were tricked and manipulated into believing that their daughter was theirs by blood. I’m sorry, is this a lot for you?” she hissed.

“Kitten, I don’t think that’s what he meant.”

She continued to scowl at the boy, his grey eyes wide in shock. His mouth moved slightly as if he was going to reply, but he stopped himself.

“Hermione dear, this is going to take some adjusting for everyone.”

Theo was frozen beside her.

Great, she thought, I’ve just made a new friend and now he hates me.

“How?” Lucius continued, “I didn’t even know they were in a relationship. Wasn’t she betrothed to Rabastan?”

Narcissa, normally the picture of poise and propriety, seemed to almost hiss.

“We stopped that.” She didn’t elaborate.

Remus took the silence to begin to explain his role and connection to Lysa, providing more details than he had before. Lysa, as the sister of Tiberius and son of Thoros, both two of Voldemort’s right-hand men, was deeply embedded within the cause, but had greatly differing views on the war. He detailed that she had wanted to get out as soon as it became evident that a war was going to begin, but was unable to leave, her life very much under the strict control of her brother and father. She managed to get word to the Order, Remus wasn’t sure how, and turned spy, meeting with him at various safehouses to pass on information. It was during one of these meetings that she had told him that she was pregnant and that her partner also wanted to switch sides. Both of them were desperate to get out and go into hiding. She had asked him to approach Dumbledore to see if there was a way of extracting both of them but Dumbledore had refused, saying that their positions within the Death Eater ranks were more important at that time.

Narcissa filled in the time that Remus couldn’t account for. Lysa had become more and more withdrawn and absent, from both her family and her friend. In the end her disappearances began to be questioned and it wasn’t long before Voldemort began to suspect that she was passing secrets. Next thing Narcissa knew, her friend was dead. She hadn’t even known she was pregnant. Regulus disappeared soon after and was later reported to have died, although the circumstances of his death were unknown. Narcissa explained what she had overheard from the elf, and how she had reached out to Remus.

“You didn’t tell me any of this.” Lucius’ voice was low.

“It wasn’t long after the Dark Lord had fallen. I didn’t know where we stood within the circles and I wanted to keep you out of it. It didn’t matter regardless; we tried everything and couldn’t find her.”

Theo was sat, silent and still, listening to Remus and Narcissa speak. He hadn’t looked at Hermione since he had put together that she was his cousin and the tension growing in the inches of space between them on the sofa was becoming unbearable. She could see his chest rising and falling steadily out of the corner of her eye and his hands were braced on his knees, his knuckles growing white from the pressure of digging his fingertips into his trouser legs. He stood suddenly.

“I can’t be here,” he muttered, whether to the room or himself it wasn’t clear, and then walked out of the room.

Hermione made to follow him, but Malfoy stopped her, “I’ll go.”

“Me too.”

To her surprise, Harry had stood as well, squeezed the top of her arm and followed Malfoy out of the door, leaving Hermione stood in the centre of the room, surrounded by people but feeling very much alone.

Harry followed after Malfoy. He didn’t know where he was going but he kept pace with the blonde teenager as he moved through the corridors. They had left in a different direction to the way Harry had entered the house and so he was completely disorientated when he suddenly found himself outside.

They found Theo sat at the top of some stone stairs. They were built into a slope of grass that led down to a smooth manicured lawn. Either side of the stairs was a stone balustrade with dragon shaped statues adorning the top. Malfoy took a seat next to Theo. Harry was unsure as to what to do, he paused for a second before walking past the pair and taking a seat a couple of steps lower.

It was a hazy summer day. Warm, but there was moisture in the air causing a low level of mist to lie over the garden. Beyond the large expanse of lawn in front of him, Harry could see a vast woodland area. Curving around the side of the house there was a lake, white and black swans gathered on the smooth surface. There wasn’t any noise apart from the sound of birds in the surrounding trees, and the call of what Harry was sure were peacocks.

“Thoughts Theo?” Malfoy broke their silence.

“Fucking loads.”

“Start with one good and one bad.” Malfoy continued. Harry was intrigued. He had never been to counselling, but it felt like Malfoy was coaching Theo through whatever was going on in his head. They’d evidently done this before.

“Good… I have family. She’s good. I have good family.” Theo’s eyes were closed tightly.

“That’s right.” Malfoy agreed to Harry’s surprise.

Theo’s eyes were still closed. “Bad. She… she’s not safe.”

Harry’s eyes shot to Malfoy’s at that, ready to ask why, but the look Malfoy gave him quickly told him to hold back.

“Your father?” Draco prompted.

“He can’t find out.” Theo was shaking his head.

“Theo…” Harry said quietly, shuffling up a step, “I heard Sirius and the others talking about this. There isn’t a way he could claim guardianship if that’s what you’re worried about. She’s… safe from him.” He didn’t know what kind of ‘safe’ she needed to be, but the way Theo had reacted and the way the adults had spoken earlier gave him some sort of idea.

“You don’t know my father.”

Harry clocked the way Theo’s hand reached for his ribs as he spoke. He knew that reflex.

“No… I don’t,” he continued, “Malfoy? What was my Uncle doing when you came to get me from their house?” Malfoy looked surprised at the question, he looked to Harry, clearly unsure whether he was meant to give an honest answer. Harry gave a nod.  

“Your Uncle had you pinned to the wall, his hand around your neck.”

Theo looked up, his dark blue eyes settling on Harry’s. Harry didn’t break his gaze.

“My Uncle isn’t a wizard, but I know what it’s like living with someone like your father, and I know that Sirius and Remus won’t let anything happen to Hermione. They got me out of my Aunt and Uncle’s house as soon as they knew what was happening. They won’t let anyone hurt her.”

Malfoy continued, “And mother seems quite attached, even before she found out she was Granger’s godmother. So that means the House of Malfoy has her backing. I know you like to think you’re big Sacred 28, but we’re the Malfoy’s. She’s safe with us.” Harry noted Malfoy’s use of the word ‘us’.

“Also, Snape is apparently her godfather. I don’t fancy seeing him in a mood. You remember how he reacted when Pucey tried to trick me into eating veritaserum laced sweets in first year?”

Theo let out a brief chuckle.

“Is that the main thing that’s got you bothered?” Harry asked. Theo looked at him intently. His stare was piercing, and Harry felt himself grow warm as the boy continued to look at him.

“I’ve never had family.”

“Me either. Well, none that I ever counted as family anyway. Not until a couple days ago.”

“I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“Me either.”

“She’s my family.”

“Yeah. The best you could wish for.”

They hadn’t broken eye contact throughout the exchange. Theo’s eyes, dark and stormy began to lighten, creases emerging in the corners, and a dimple appeared as his lips began to quirk into a smile.

“Mia’s my cousin.”

“Seems that way mate.” Malfoy nudged his shoulder and Theo laughed, his head thrown back.

“Fuck, this is madness.” He was still laughing.

“Tell me about it.” Harry was laughing now as well.

“Can you imagine the faces on the rest of the snakes when they find out?” Malfoy joined in, his chuckle joining Harry and Theo’s.

“Fucking priceless. Pureblood Granger. Pansy’s going to freak.”

Theo was on a roll now, unable to keep his hysteria in, “Harry Potter’s in your house mate!”

“His Mum decorated my bedroom!” Harry had tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Granger calls my dad Lucius!” Malfoy shouted, and all three of them burst into more laughter, Theo collapsing back to lie on the floor.

They stayed that way for a while longer, catching their breath, all of them laid back against the stone stairs. Harry was just beginning to question how odd it was to feel so comfortable with the two Slytherins when a shadow appeared above them and Harry righted himself quickly.

“If… you are all done… goofing around… I think you should return inside.” Snape drawled.

The three boys looked at each other before beginning to laugh again. Snape rolled his eyes, causing them to laugh even more until he took out his wand and silenced them.

“As much as I find it fascinating to find you all getting along so well… I believe there is a witch inside very much in need of some friends.”

That sobered them up and had them on their feet. Snape lifted the silencing spell.

“Am I to assume that you have worked through whatever was bothering you before Theodore?”

“Um, yeah. I still have questions.” The boy replied, following their professor back into the house.

“Don’t we all,” was the only reply Snape gave as he swept down the corridor.

Hermione had stood unmoving as the three boys left the room before her. She wasn’t going to cry again. She was determined. But the initial sting of pain in her chest as Theo walked away without looking at her was growing into an ache. She stood, clenching her fists, feeling the sharp pinch as her nails dug into her palms, releasing and then repeating the process. She hadn’t realised at first, her gaze being set on the door Theo had left through, that Professor Snape was also stood. When did he stand up? She caught his eye briefly as he hovered in the corner, unable to read his expression before she focussed again on the door. She didn’t know how long she remained stood in the middle of the room before Narcissa and Andromeda guided her back down to the sofa.

“Give him time sweet pea.” Andromeda whispered into her hair, giving her a kiss on the temple in the process. Narcissa had taken her hands and was massaging her palms with her thumbs.

“I’m sure he isn’t angry at you. Theodore has a difficult relationship with his family… his father. Give him time.” She soothed.

The gentlemen had gathered in the corner of the room and were talking in hushed tones.

“What are they talking about?”

“Probably what to do about Tiberius and also, how to approach the announcement. Although, I would be best to be part of that conversation.” Narcissa raised her voice at the end of the sentence, catching her husband’s attention. He nodded in understanding and guided the men back to the sofas.

“Severus, could you please look in on the boys and ask them to come back inside?” Narcissa asked.

Snape looked ready to question why exactly he was being given the task, but instead gave her a gracious nod and swept out of the room.

“Remi?” The house elf from before appeared. “Could we get some more drinks?”

The elf took more drinks orders; three firewhiskeys, one port, one black coffee and a pumpkin juice. Narcissa requested a further three butterbeers for the absentee boys and another firewhiskey for Snape.

Narcissa was about to speak again when Snape appeared back in the room, followed by Theo, Harry and Draco. They all looked rosy cheeked and calm.

Hermione tensed as Theo strode towards her. She placed her drink on the side table next to her, not sure what he was about to do, and was grateful she had had the foresight to do so as he pulled her up from her seat and into a crushing hug.

“You’re my cousin.” He muttered into her hair. She could hear the smile on his lips.

“Seems so.” She replied, fisting her hands into his wool vest and pulling him closer. “Do you hate me?”

“No!” He pushed her back from him to look at her properly. “This is the best! It’s just…”

“Your father?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s nothing to worry about.” Sirius spoke up.

“That’s what Harry said.”

“Well, he’s right.” Sirius was stood now and had his hand on Theo’s shoulder. “We’ve got this.”

“Theodore dear, we need you to check your tapestry. Draco, if you could check ours as well?”

“What for?” Draco was on his feet again, having barely sat down.

“The Black tapestry updated this morning to show Hermione, Lysa and Regulus. We need to know if other tapestries with links to our family have done the same.”

Malfoy nodded and waited for Theo to release Hermione before they both left the room.

“Harry?” Hermione reached for him in the absence Theo had left.

“I’m here.” He held her close and sat her back down on the sofa.

“Miss Granger… Hermione… You understand that this is quite the coup? It will need publicly addressing.” Lucius was in business mode now. “We need to make a formal announcement before anyone else gets wind of this and starts the rumour mill going. I will be writing to the Prophet today.”

“I undertand. I… I need to speak to my parent’s first.”

“Of course. Do you intend to go there from here?” His question was directed at Sirius and Remus.

“That’s the plan.” Remus replied.

“Hermione?” Lucius was speaking to her again. She looked up and found his face in the room. He looked stern but there was a warmth behind his steel blue eyes.

“You are a Black. That means that you are family. I want… I need you to know that, beyond any relationship we had recently formed, you have the support and protection of the House of Malfoy.”

Narcissa reached for his hand and gave him a tearful smile.

“Thank you, Lucius,” it was all she could manage to get out before Theo and Malfoy returned to the room.

“It’s there! Your middle name is Cassiopeia - that was my great grandmother’s name! You have a Black star name!”

“They’re on our tapestry too.” Malfoy was far more subdued than Theo and it wasn’t clear if he was speaking to Hermione or the rest of the room.

“Well, we need to get to work.” Narcissa adopted a managerial voice, “Lucius can you put together the press release for the Prophet? Send it to Hopkins, not that Skeeter woman. Hopefully we can make the morning paper. It should be a joint announcement regarding Harry’s adoption, that will hopefully distract slightly from the news about Hermione.”

She focussed her attention on Sirius and Remus, “I think you need to visit Hermione’s parent’s now."

Andromeda hadn’t said much but she reached for Hermione as they all made to stand and depart the room. Pulling her into an embrace she gave a small sob before promising Hermione she had a place in her house whenever, and for whatever reason, she needed it. Hermione returned her hug. The entire day had been overwhelming but she realised that she had exactly the people she needed around her.

“I’ll let you know how visiting Hermione’s parents goes. I’m sure this isn’t going to be easy.” Sirius tucked his arm around Hermione. “Lucius, Cissa, Meda? We should meet tomorrow; we need to discuss this development, as well as how to proceed following the events of the Wizengamot session.”

“I’m coming.” Theo spoke up.

“I don’t know…” Remus said.

“I know I don’t know them. But she’s my family now and I want to be there for this. Mia?”

“I…” she looked at Sirius, Harry and Remus, “I want him there.”

“Yes!” Theo fisted the air.

“As long as you’re sure Kitten.” Sirius didn’t look convinced but was evidently amused at the tag along.

“Let’s get this over and done with.”

Narcissa kissed her on the forehead and Lucius gave her an unexpected but and brief one-armed hug. Malfoy stood to the side giving her a short nod, his facial expression seemed one of sympathy, knowing the trip to her parents was going to be difficult for everyone. Snape kept his distance but gave her a reassuring smile; it threw her, still not used to seeing the man show any kind of pleasant emotion to anyone. Her world was completely topsy turvy. 

Chapter Text

Hermione had déjà vu as the group apparated around the corner from her parent’s house again, this time, Theo in toe. He had hold of her right hand, and Harry her left, their chaperones walking in front of them towards her front door. She could sense Theo’s curiosity, his head turning from left to right to take in the muggle neighbourhood. If he kept it up he was definitely going to give himself whiplash. Her parents were home, their black Mercedes parked up on the drive. Theo opened his mouth to begin to ask questions but quieted when Remus hushed him.

“How do you want to do this Hermione?” Remus asked. He was closest to the door and seemed torn between knocking or letting Hermione walk them straight in.

“We’ll just go in. I don’t think they’ll find it odd that you’re here. They’ll just think you want to give them an update about the adoption…”

They wouldn’t be wrong.

“Okay, we’ll follow your lead kitten.” Sirius squeezed her shoulder and she reached forward, letting them all into the house.

“Mum?” she called out, her voice wavering in the empty hall.

“Hermione! How did it go?” her mother emerged from the living room and Hermione melted into her arms. She wasn’t going to cry, but the emotion of seeing her Mum, smelling her perfume and her soothing embrace was twisting in a pit in her stomach.

“It was… I can’t even… Sirius?” She mumbled into her mother’s cashmere jumper.

“There are some things we need to discuss. Is Richard here?” Sirius stepped forward.

Hermione could feel her mother tense, the hug losing some of its comfort. “He’s just in the garden. I’ll go and get him. Is everything alright?”

“It’s best if we talk all together.”

Sirius didn’t elaborate and Hermione knew that this was the beginning of what would be an extremely difficult conversation. Her mum had already taken a step back, eyeing the group with a hard stare. She sniffed, directed them into the living room and went to fetch her husband.

Hermione looked around her living room, it was a safe space usually, but now the stark white carpet, the glass surfaces, the precisely placed picture frames all looked hostile. She tried not to dwell on the family photos displayed on the mantel piece above the fire. She sat on the brown leather sofa, Theo and Harry on either side. Remus conjured wooden chairs for Sirius and himself, leaving the other two armchairs in the room free for her parents.

“Gentlemen. It seems these visits are becoming regular.” Her father entered the room and Sirius and Remus rose to shake his hand. He was smiling and was puffing slightly from whatever he’d been doing in the garden.

“We apologise again for the intrusion. There’s been a development since we went through the adoption process.”

“Cupcake?” Hermione gave her father a brief hug, not allowing herself to linger too long before pulling away.

“This is Theo, he’s in some of my classes at school.” She was deflecting, but she felt the need to stall the inevitable a little longer.

Theo stood and held out his hand to her father, “A pleasure to meet you, Mr Granger.”

He had his pureblood etiquette hat on. Her father’s eyebrow raised slightly as he shook the boy’s hand.

“We haven’t heard you mention a ‘Theo’ before?”

She could see the twinkle in her father’s eye and knew exactly what was coming next, “Are you dating my daughter, Theo?” he stressed Theo’s name, and pulled the boy closer into the handshake.

“Um, no, Merlin, no. That’s crazy!” Theo was stuttering.

“Dad!”

“I mean, not crazy!” Theo was trying to overcorrect now, “I mean, Mia’s wonderful! Complete catch. But no that would be.. Granger? Help me?”

“Dad, stop! We’re just friends.”

Her father chuckled and released Theo’s hand.

“Richard, was that necessary? You’ve scared the poor boy.” Helen lightly chastised, taking her seat.

“Hey! My daughter is off at a boarding school most of the year and her friends are witches and wizards who we never meet. I never get to do the protective Dad thing!” He joked, winking at a flustered Theo and settling himself into his armchair. “So, what’s this development?”

Sirius sighed, looking to Hermione for permission to speak. When she didn’t say anything he began, “This is not going to be an easy conversation and for that, I apologise in advance.”

“Hermione?” her mum was worried now.

Sirius made to continue, but Hermione felt her anxiety bubbling over.

“Did you know I was already adopted?!” She blurted, covering her mouth with her hand as soon as she had done so.

“What do you mean already adopted?” Her mother was turning to the various people sat around the room. Her focus finally landed on Sirius. “What on earth does that mean?!”

“I wasn’t able to adopt Hermione as we had planned. It appears she is already a member of my family. My niece in fact.” Sirius was speaking in calm, slow tones. “This is…”

“Get out.” Her father was stood, his voice low. Sirius rose to meet him, Remus at his side.

“I know that this will be a shock. It has been for us as well…”

“You come into our house, yesterday, a man I’ve never met before, a supposedly ‘cleared’ mass murderer and say you want to adopt my 14-year-old daughter. That in itself was an outrageous request, but Hermione wanted it to happen, so we trusted her and you.” He was jabbing his finger at Sirius’ chest. “But now, you come back and say she’s your niece. What does that even mean?! That we aren’t her parents?! How dare you!”

“Daddy…”

“Hermione stay out of this,” her mother’s voice was sharp.

“We just want to talk this through. Everyone here deserves answers, and we will get to the bottom of it, but only if we discuss this together.” Remus was trying to calm things down.

“Hermione is our daughter. I gave birth to her.”

Remus gave her Mum a sympathetic look; a look that Hermione knew would boil her mother’s blood.

“I’m afraid, given that you are both unaware of Hermione’s adoption, it would seem that someone has altered your memories. I’m incredibly sorry. We plan to investigate everything…”

“No, no I remember. I was bloody there. I remember…” her father trailed off.

“You’re telling me that the hours I spent in labour, giving birth to my daughter never happened? This is madness. You’re all mad! Hermione, I don’t want you spending any more time with these people. I’m going to ask that you all leave now.” She made towards Sirius and Remus to try and usher them out of the room.

“No, Mum! We need to work this out!”

“We don’t need to work anything out, Hermione?!” her mother span to face her, “This is lies, some trick to make you further part of their world and not ours. We are your parents. That’s it. This has been a terrible idea from the beginning. I don’t want you going back to that school.”

“I’m not dropping out of Hogwarts! I’m still your daughter!”

“I can assure you it is definitely not our intention to take Hermione from you. That’s definitely not what we’re here to do. She is and always will be your daughter. But, I’m afraid, it does appear that there has been some unlawful use of magic where Hermione’s heritage is concerned. She is biologically my brother’s daughter.”

“Oh?” Helen scowled, “And where is your brother?”

“He died 14 years ago.”

“How convenient.” Her father scoffed and Hermione watched as Sirius bristled. She hadn’t known Sirius for long, but she could tell he was hot tempered, and it was evidently taking an awful lot of will power for him to not react to the comment.

The room was still for a moment, none of the adults moving. It seemed they had hit an impasse, where anything further said from either side would only make matters worse.

“Mr and Mrs Granger?” Theo spoke from beside Hermione, and she span her attention to him. “I know you don’t know me, and honestly, I’ve only really known Hermione properly since we began sharing a couple classes this year, but today I learnt that she’s my cousin. My Aunt…” Hermione was grateful when he didn’t elaborate to describe his Aunt as her ‘mother’. He took a breath and continued.

“I don’t have a great home life. I don’t have any family apart from my father. The closest people I’ve ever had to siblings have been my classmates. Hermione is the most brilliant witch and friend. I’ve grown up being told that muggles are inferior, but every year at school she’s proved that way of thinking wrong. Not just for me, but for the other people in my house who were brought up to think the same way. Over the past year, she’s introduced me to Jane Austin, the Bronte’s, Charles Dickens, Queen, Metallica and the Sex Pistols. She’s explained how cars work, about World War One and Two, told me about Martin Luther King, given me muggle sweets and loaned me books about chemistry and physics. She’s opened my eyes to an entire world I didn’t know about. You’re the reason why she’s like that. You’re why she looked beyond the fact I’m in Slytherin and a pureblood and still decided to be my friend.” He gave her a sheepish smile and she felt her eyes welling up.

“I know this is a really horrible. But it isn’t so much that you are losing Hermione, I know that’s not what she wants to happen and, knowing her, she won’t let it, it’s as much about me gaining a family… if you’ll have me.”

Everyone in the room was staring at Theo, the tension and animosity had dissipated throughout his speech.

“Theo…” Hermione began but her mother interrupted her.

“Theo, you appear to be a lovely boy and I am glad that Hermione has been a good friend to you. But you must understand that this is an awful lot for us to take at face value.”

“Helen. Mrs Granger, if I may,” Lupin stepped forward, “We would be more than happy to take part in any checks you require to feel confident in what we have said. We have wizarding ways of course, but I know that there are muggle methods of investigating these things. Off the back of those results however, and I’m afraid I do expect them to correlate with our findings, I would suggest, if you were willing, that a colleague of mine visit to make some magical checks on your memories to see exactly how this has occurred.”

“What you mean to say is they’ll try to work out how exactly we were tricked into thinking we had a child when she isn’t even ours.”

Hermione gasped at the harsh way her mother’s sentence cut across the room. Crookshanks suddenly emerged out from under the sofa and arched his back at his owners mother, tail on end, letting out an aggressive wowl.

“Helen!” Her father inhaled.

“She is your child.” Sirius’ voice was menacing.

“You watched her first footsteps, listened to her first words, took her on her first holiday. My dead brother and his dead partner weren’t a part of that.” He was spitting now and Remus had a firm grip on his bicep.

“If you think that 14 years of caring for that brilliant girl counts for nothing then I’ll be more than happy to challenge for full guardianship.”

“Sirius, that’s not what we’re doing here.” Remus was trying to diffuse the spike in tension. “Theo, Harry, Hermione, I think it might be best if you leave us to talk for a bit.”

“You don’t get to come in here…”

“Helen, he’s right, you’re… we’re at risk of saying things we don’t mean. The kids don’t need to be here for this.” He glanced at Hermione who was still reeling from the way her mother had spoken a second ago.

“Come on Mia,” Theo gently guided her up from the sofa and the three of them left the room. They stood awkwardly in the hallway for a second, before Hermione silently followed Crookshanks as he led them upstairs and into her bedroom.

Harry looked around the space Hermione had led them into. There was no doubt it was Hermione’s room; littered with papers, magazines and books. The colour scheme wasn’t too dissimilar to how Narcissa had decorated her room at Grimmauld, purples and cream, although this room was far moodier than the classic décor Narcissa had put together. It didn’t feel appropriate to comment on the similarities right now though. Next to the door were two large bookcases, covered in a combination of magical and muggle books. There was an apparent organisational method, small labels on some of the shelves, but the lower shelves were dedicated to a collection of vinyls and a record player. Crookshanks was curled up in the centre of her double bed. It suddenly crossed his mind that, until days ago, he hadn’t even realised that double beds were a thing that teenagers were allowed to have. It made sense that Hermione would have one though considering the size of the rest of her house. Besides the point, not relevant right now, Harry shook the thought from his head. Her bedside tables were covered in more books, various bracelets, hair ties and numerous cassette tapes. The walls were a dark purple, contrasting with the cream carpet that had continued into the room from the upstairs hallway. Pops of lilac and cream in the curtains and bedding lightened the room considerably, but it was still darker than Harry had imagined Hermione’s space would be.

Hermione walked away from Harry and Theo, leaving them stood awkwardly in the doorway, as she crawled onto the bed, pulling Crookshanks, and the wool blanket he’d laid on top of, into her lap in the process.

This hadn’t been how Harry had anticipated his day going. What had started as a day full of excitement had devolved into a stress dream and, for once, he wasn’t the main character. In fact, he realised, this was worse; he was an ineffectual bystander, with no real power to make anything better. Was this how Hermione felt watching him go through year after year of drama?

Looking at the girl on the bed, he realised just how broken she looked; small and hugging her ginger ball of fur like her life depended on it. He wasn’t used to it being this way round. Hermione was always the one coming up with solutions for him and Ron. Hell, Hermione trying to help him was how they’d ended up here. He was ashamed that, finding himself in the reverse situation now, he felt at a loss as to what to do. Theo, standing next to him, seemed equally unsure as to how to approach Hermione.

“I’m not sure that Sirius has the right temperament to calm things down downstairs, but Remus will have things covered.” He offered. It wasn’t a very helpful observation, but Hermione nodded, her nose buried in the top of Crookshanks head and her hair obscuring the rest of her face.

“What are you thinking Hermione?” he approached the bed, perching on corner, his knee drawn up to his chin. Theo followed but sat himself down, cross-legged on the floor. Hermione mumbled something indiscernible into her familiar’s fur. Harry looked at Theo who shrugged.

“You’re going to have to repeat that…”

“I wish today hadn’t happened.” She whispered.

“Yeah… I can understand that.” Harry sighed, running his hand through his hair. Jeez, I’m not cut out for this,he thought. 

“Oh, that’s a terrible thing to say! I’m so sorry Harry!” Hermione was looking at him with pleading eyes and he couldn’t fathom why she was apologising to him.

“Today was meant to be such a big day for you, I was going to ask Kreacher to make a cake and everything when we got back to Grimmauld. This was your adoption day and I’ve ruined it.” She let out a sob.  

“Hermione, stop, you haven’t ruined anything! Don’t even begin to think that!” This witch was ridiculous. Even now she was worried about him. “At the end of the day, I’ve still been adopted by Sirius and my life is a million times better than it was when I got off the train at Kings Cross three days ago. You, however, have had your life turned upside down. Forget thinking about me for a second and tell us what’s going through your head.”

“Potter’s right. You’re not meant to be thinking about other people right now.” Theo said from his position on the floor. He was leaning back on his hands.

“I don’t know what to think!” Hermione cried, “My brain is so scrambled! Everything has changed, but at the same time, nothing has really changed at all has it? It’s not like my biological parents are living. I’m still me. Adopted or not, for me at least, my parents are still my parents…” she huffed slightly, “But now I’m second guessing everything. And I don’t know what happens now! I’d accepted who I was in the wizarding world. But now…”

“Now you’re not muggleborn.”

“I’m not muggleborn… but I’ve lived all my life like I am. It doesn’t alter how I think about things.”

“And it shouldn’t.” Theo replied.

“But, people will look at me different.”

“Yeah… they probably will for a while. But they’ll quickly realise you are still Hermione Granger. Just with… some new allegiances. Which would have been the case after Sirius adopted you anyway.” Theo continued.

“It doesn’t change how I think of you.” Harry nudged her, “You’re still my swotty best mate.”

“Still my secret potty mouthed Gryffindor buddy too.”

Hermione let out a small laugh. “You’re the one with the potty mouth Nott.”

“Pfft. It’s all your influence Granger.”

She chuckled again and Harry was glad that something was distracting her from whatever was going on downstairs in their absence.

“So, Hermione, this is your room? Very… purple.” Harry joked.

“I made Dad paint it last summer,” she rolled her eyes, “It seemed a good idea at the time, but I was thinking about changing it.”

“Gunna take a lot of paint to cover this…”

The purple was almost like nightshade. Harry didn’t envy whoever had the job of redecorating.

“God, don’t say that. I was going to ask about redecorating while I was home for summer… Now it’s probably the last thing I’ll be thinking about.”

“I can’t believe I’m in Hermione Granger’s room,” Theo chuckled, “with Harry Potter.”

Theo gave him a look he couldn’t quite discern. They hadn’t ever spent time together, but it was clear that Theo wasn’t as bad as the rest of the Slytherins. Harry could understand why Hermione liked him. He’d also said all that lovely stuff about her downstairs, not very Slytherin-esque. Potentially a decent guy, Harry thought.

“It’s been an all-round weekend of weirdness.” Harry said. “Good!” he quickly offered for Hermione’s sake, “but still pretty bloody weird.”

“So, you’re a Black too now?” Theo was fishing for information on what had happened, but it also served as a distraction for Hermione, so Harry placated him.

“Yeah, I guess. Sirius was always my godfather, and apparently would have adopted me straight off the bat if Azkaban hadn’t happened. So now I’m part of the fam. I guess that makes me related to you in some way now.” It was a stupid attempt at a joke, but Theo seemed to take it seriously.

“Well, you were that anyway pre-adoption. The Potters are as intertwined as any other Sacred 28 family, they just got bumped off the official list for being too friendly to muggles.”

“Oh fab. So, we’re what? Second cousins, fourth, twice, jump a step removed?”

“Probably. Not close enough for anyone to care.” Theo suddenly looked away from Harry.

Harry didn’t know what that meant, but he shrugged and led it slide.

“Um… Hermione? I think you might want to let Crookshanks go…” She was crushing the poor beast, his eyes scanning the room, desperate for someone to provide him with an escape.

“Oh… yeah. Sorry Crooks.” She released him from her arms, and he made a dash for Theo, launching himself at his chest. Theo toppled backwards from the attack, landing with his back to the floor with the cat sat on top of him, staring into his face.

“Mia! Rein in your beast!” Crookshanks meowed in protest and moved his face closer to Theo’s.

“He’s just trying to decide if you’re a friend.”

“It’s an initiation, Nott. Role with it.”

“Hmph. Fine. Um…nice to meet you cat. I’m Theo, and the most attractive wizard you’re likely to ever meet.” He awkwardly held out a hand to the cat from his position on the floor. After a brief pause, Crookshanks butted his head against the hand and leapt off Theo’s chest, finding a space to curl up on a reading chair in the corner.

“He likes you.” Hermione commented. It was a far tamer reaction than some of the scenes Harry had seen around the Gryffindor common room earlier in the year. Harry was beginning to come around to the idea that the cat actually had an intuition about people, Crookshanks had positively mauled Cormac McClaggen when he’d attempted to stroke him, and everyone knew he was a slimy git. Maybe the cat’s instinct went beyond sniffing out Animagi.  

Theo appeared to spy something under the bed from his new position laid on the floor, quickly flipping himself over and scrambling headfirst out of view.

“What are you doing?!” Hermione gasped.

“What the hell are all of these?!” Theo re-emerged, pulling out a wicker basket full of cuddly toys.

“Stop it!”

“Merlin, there’s loads!” Theo laughed, picking up a tatty looking spotty bear.

Harry reached forward and picked up a sad looking blue whale, spinning it using the frayed small looped, golden thread on its back.

Hermione made a grab for it, “Leave Moby alone!”

“Moby?!” Harry guffawed, “As in Moby Dick?”

Hermione was practically on top of him now attempting to wrestle the cuddly toy out of his hands.

“Yes! My parents got me him when I finished reading the book.”

She’d succeeded in grabbing the toy back but turned to find Theo with an armful of others cradled against his chest. A fluffy tabby cat, a koala hand puppet, a hard-plastic naked doll.

“Oh, sweet godric, put them back Theo!” Hermione was on the floor now, but for every toy she managed to get back in the basket, Theo and Harry had managed to remove another two.

“This one is pretty scary…” Theo was brandishing a very worse for wear duck.

“Put Duck back!” Hermione was giggling now as Theo played out a scene between the duck and the bear.

“Duck? The whale got ‘Moby’ and this poor creature just got ‘Duck’? Not very inventive Hermione. I expected better.” Theo looked pitifully at the toy in his hands.

“Pfft, do I want to know what you called your toys?” She hit him playfully across the chest.

“My toys, I will have you know, had delightful names. Not at all shady or decided by my father. Look, Potter’s stolen toys too!” Theo diverted attention from himself onto Harry who was grabbing for a rainbow coloured floppy dog.

“No fair!” Harry cried as Hermione launched at him, tackling him to the floor. Theo quickly joined the fray as Harry chucked him the toy over Hermione’s head and the teasing became piggy in the middle. Hermione looked distracted and happy and Harry realised this was the best that he and Theo could do in the moment to make things better.

There was a knock on the door and all three teenagers stilled on the floor, out of breath and stifling their laughs.

“Come in?” Hermione shouted, her voice shaking from the exertion.

Sirius and Remus entered, followed, to all of the teenager’s surprise, by Professor Snape.

“We heard you shouting, is everything okay?” Remus was scanning the room.

“We’re fine, these two decided to dig out all of my childhood toys.” She huffed, gesturing to the floor that was now covered by various stuffed animals. Sirius grinned,

“Quite the collection Kitten.”

“Hm. What’s happening? Are my parents okay? Why is Professor Snape here?”

“Your parents wanted to know just how much of their memories had been altered. I asked Severus to join us in order to do some initial tests…” Sirius hesitated and didn’t seem to know how to continue.

“Your parents appear to have been obliviated. There are markers that show that it was approximately 14 years ago, so that lines up with what we suspected. I haven’t been able to retrieve any of their memories at present, but that is something I can attempt to do. It’ll take time though. Whoever performed the spell was clearly very skilled in memory alteration. I am sorry, Hermione.” It took Harry off guard hearing Snape apologise to his friend.

Harry noticed a heaviness fall over the room. Hermione clutched the multi-colour dog she had just wrestled off him closer to her chest.

“I guess I knew that must have been what had happened.” Hermione sniffed.

“Your parents…” Sirius didn’t seem to know what to say next again. Remus moved forward and knelt beside her on the floor.

“Your parents have asked that you stay with us for a couple of days. Just while they get their heads around this. You’re more than welcome at Grimmauld, but we didn’t want to presume. You might want to go somewhere else.”

“They don’t want me here?”

Harry’s heart cracked as he heard Hermione whisper those words. She’d always seemed to have the most normal family life and here it was, crumbling all around her. He shuffled himself closer to her so that he could reach an arm around her shoulders.

“They want you here, but they’ve been given a lot of information, information that would make the most understanding person in the world question how they’d react. They just need some space.”

“I understand.” Hermione was looking at the floor, fiddling with the ears of the toy she was holding. Remus pushed her hair behind her ear and tilted her face up so that she was looking at him.

“This doesn’t alter anything for them. Just give them a bit of time. They’d like to speak to you downstairs if you’re up to it?” She gave a quick jerk of her head.

“We can pack up some stuff for you while you’re talking to them. Is there anything in particular you want?” Sirius was looking around the room.

“Um, not particularly, I trust you to pick out some outfits?” she quirked an eyebrow at him in an attempt to lighten the mood, and he grinned in return.

“Sure thing, Kitten.”

Hermione got up but, rather than exiting the room, she scrambled back onto the bed, digging among the pillows for something. Harry couldn’t see what she’d found before she chucked another cuddly toy at Sirius. “And him.”

Sirius fumbled the catch initially, but ended up holding a small, very worn brown dragon, no larger than his hand. He took a sharp intake of breath, his eyes fixed on the small toy in his hands. “Reggie…” he exhaled, and Harry noticed that a tear had begun to make its way down his godfather’s face.

The room was still. Theo was looking at Harry as if expecting him to know what was going on. Harry had an idea but didn’t want to be the one to say it out loud.

“It was his wasn’t it? My parents said they got it for me in the hospital in France where I was born. But… that’s not true, is it?” Hermione had moved towards Sirius who was still frozen to the spot, staring at the toy.

“I have a matching green one. My Uncle Alphard got us them when we were born.” And then Harry watched as Sirius Black broke down in tears. He pulled Hermione to him, crying into her shoulder. She stroked his hair and Harry could see her shoulders shaking as well. Remus was visibly upset watching his fiancé grieve his brother again in a new light.

“Potter, why don’t you grab some of Hermione’s stuff. Theodore you can help him.” Snape broke Harry out of watching the scene. He was about to be irritated at his professor ordering him around out of school time until he caught Snape’s eye. The man’s dark eyes were shining with unshed tears and Harry noticed his throat tense as he seemed to swallow down his emotion. Harry looked away briefly, allowing his Professor the moment, but when he looked back, Snape had adopted his usual stern expression.

“Um, yeah…” he moved to Hermione’s dressing table and Theo followed. Hermione’s school trunk was still open on the floor near her bed and he began picking through some of the books she had piled up alongside her makeup, adding them to the suitcase. Merlin, can she not even do her makeup without reading something? Theo was bundling various bits of makeup into a wash bag. He picked up a bright blue pencil, eyeliner Harry presumed, and raised it to Harry an amused look on his face. Harry couldn’t help but grin at the boy, shrugged, and Theo added it to the bag with a small chuckle.

When they turned around Harry realised that Hermione had left the room; Sirius was now calm but was still being consoled by Lupin. Snape was stood awkwardly to the side apparently in a staring competition with Crookshanks.

“I’ll hunt out the bathroom,” Theo announced.

Sirius sniffed loudly, “Ughh, okay, I’m done. I’ve got it out of my system.” He was still holding the small dragon in the palm of his hand.

“Pads, I think it’s going to take more than that for any of us to fully deal with this situation.” Remus was running a thumb over the man’s cheek.

“Well, whatever that was, I’m over it.” Sirius clapped his hands and made his way over to the chest of drawers. “Let’s see what other band tees Kitten’s been hiding from us all.”

He began rifling through Hermione’s t-shirts and exclaiming every so often in joy. Harry caught Remus’ eye; he didn’t look impressed at his partner’s sudden shift in mood but moved to assist him all the same. Harry chanced another look at Snape, who was still stood in the corner of the room. He was staring at Crookshanks, but Harry noticed a tear making a track down the man's face and his nostrils were flaring as he tried to stop himself from crying. It was a moment of vulnerability Harry felt uncomfortable witnessing and he quickly followed after Theo, leaving the adults alone in Hermione’s room to relive their grief in private.

Chapter Text

Once Sirius declared that they’d packed enough of Hermione’s belongs, he began ushering the group out of her room. As if realising what was happening Crookshanks weaved his way beneath their feet before leading them down the stairs. The kneazle quickly found his witch, stood in the hallway, flanked by both of her parents. Harry noticed that her eyes were red and still wet from fresh tears, but she looked calmer than she had done before. She moved away from her parents as the group descended into the hallway and Harry made his way to her, taking her hand in his.

“You good?” he whispered.

“Yeah, I think so,” she muttered back.

“We appreciate you allowing Hermione to stay with you. It’ll just be while we…” Mr Granger trailed off.

“We completely understand Richard,” Remus spoke. His tone was soft and deferring, “She’s welcome as long as you need, and our floo is open to you at all times of the day. I plan to acquire a mobile tomorrow, as we discussed, and will give you my number as soon as that’s done. Any questions you have, whatever time of day, we’ll aim to answer them to the best of our ability.”

“Thank you, Remus,” Mr Granger moved to shake his hand before turning to Sirius and offering his hand out again, “Sirius.”

Sirius took his hand firmly, looking the man directly in the eye, “Mr Granger, I apologise for the pain that the wizarding world has caused you. I assure you we will get to the bottom of what happened.”

There was a slight exhale of breath from the side of the room and Hermione let go of Harry’s hand to move back over to her Mum, who promptly gathered her into a hug.

“Helen, anything you need, at any time, as Remus says, we are at your disposal.” Sirius added.

The woman simply nodded, releasing Hermione from her grasp and smoothing her hair affectionately.

“Potter. Why don’t you take the trunk and floo to Grimmauld Place. Theodore, you should go with him.” Snape gestured towards the front room. Theo made to move, and Harry looked to Sirius for confirmation that he should do as told. Sirius gave him a slight nod.

“You might want to select some of your personal things Hermione. We didn’t want to presume and raid through all of your drawers.” Sirius spoke, directed at Hermione.

“Oh yeah, thank you.” Hermione dashed back up the stairs. Theo and Harry moved into the living room, Harry taking a glance behind him at the tense congregation of adults, before grabbing a handful of floo powder and throwing it into the fireplace.

He arrived in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place and quickly moved out of the way to allow space for Theo to arrive. Seconds later, Theo appeared out of the green flame, clutching Hermione’s trunk. Harry watched as the gangly boy took in his surroundings, deposited the bag on the floor to the side of the fireplace and proceeded to slump onto the kitchen bench, his back to the table, legs outstretched in front of him and his elbows resting on the wood. Harry sat next to him.

“Salazar, this is all so fucked up,” Theo sighed, looking at the ceiling.

“Yeah, that’s putting it mildly.” Harry replied with a weak laugh, settling onto the bench.

“Are you doing okay?”

The question took Harry off guard. Not just because he hadn’t actually been thinking about himself in that moment, but because the question was coming from Theo, a boy who he’d solely interacted with in the last day. He found himself compelled to reply honestly,

“To be honest? I feel terrible for Hermione, but I also feel happy. I know that’s probably a horrible thing to say.”

Theo looked at him, encouraging him to continue.

“It’s just, today was always going to be great. Just being out of my Aunt and Uncle’s house would have been enough for me, but being adopted… Officially having Sirius and Remus… I dunno, it’s so much. And then, having Hermione on top of that?” He sighed.

“I mean, she’s always been like my sister, ever since first year, and the adoption would have just solidified that feeling. But there’s something about her actually being Sirius’ family. It’s hard to explain. It just feels so right, you know? Like we were always meant to know each other. In another universe, if things hadn’t ended up like they did, we might have always grown up together,” he huffed, “I dunno, it sounds stupid when I say it out loud. And it’s selfish.  Hermione and her parents are going through hell.”

“No, I understand.”

Harry twisted on the bench to look at Theo whose head was still thrown back, his face parallel towards the ceiling. He didn’t look at Harry as he spoke.

“Since we began working on that Runes project, and then afterwards when we continued talking, I couldn’t shake this feeling of jealousy I had towards you and Weasley for getting to spend time with her. Mia just felt so easy to be with and it sucked that I couldn’t openly hang out with her because of all the stupid house rivalry and my bloody father. Finding out that she’s my cousin… that there is something good in my family. That my family isn’t just the remnants of darkness… I can’t even express how happy that makes me feel.”

Harry noticed that, although Theo was looking away from him, tears were threatening to fall from his eyes. Not a bad guy at all, he thought, just as the fireplace came to life again and Hermione, Remus and Sirius stepped into the room. Theo hurriedly ran his hand down his face shedding any evidence of tears, before coughing to clear his throat.

“Where’s Snape?” Harry asked the new arrivals.

“Professor Snape has returned to his home to do some research. We figured we didn’t need a large gathering this evening.” Remus replied.

“Oh, well, I should probably be getting off and leave you all to it. Mia, you’ll contact me, yeah?” Theo had got up from his seat on the bench and was awkwardly pulling at the bottom of his sweater vest.

Hermione’s head snapped up at the movement, and she quickly deposited Crookshanks on the floor. She looked to Sirius and Remus before speaking,

“I kind of thought you might want to hang out here for a little bit? If you want, I mean, you don’t have to… I just thought…”

“You’re more than welcome to stay Theo. That comment wasn’t directed at you.” Remus interjected. His face was twisted, looking apologetic and Sirius moved to put an arm round him.

“You’re family now Theodore.” Sirius said, squeezing his partners shoulders.

“Really? Um, yeah, I’d love to stay. My father is away at the moment, so he won’t care.”

“Great. Well, why don’t you take kitten’s stuff upstairs and Moony and I will sort food. What do you fancy? Honestly, I’ve been craving pizza since the day I entered Azkaban.”

“Sounds good.”

“Awesome.”

“What’s pizza?”

The three teenagers answered at the same time and both Harry and Hermione chuckled at Theo’s question.

“Pizza I think Sirius,” Hermione said quietly with a smirk. Sirius laughed, pulling her into a hug and placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“As you wish kitten. Now scoot. Call Kreacher or us if you need anything. I’ll give you a shout when the food is here.”

Hermione was feeling pretty hollow but was grateful to have Harry and Theo with her in the wake of the day. The trio began to make their way upstairs. Hermione was about to warn Theo about the bottom step when he bumped her trunk against the wood, the noise cutting through the stillness of the hallway.

“Fuck.” Harry whispered.

“Wha..”

Walburga’s curtains opened slowly, causing Theo to get distracted from whatever he was about to say. However, instead of shouting as she usually did, she remained quiet. Hermione and Harry were stood, frozen, braced to receive an outburst of abuse; Theo simply looked on in curiosity at the large painting.

“Something has changed,” the woman announced, her nose high in the air as if she could smell something.

No one replied for a second. Hermione took a look at Harry who was wide eyed, mouth open, struggling to come up with the appropriate reply. She hadn’t heard the witch speak at a decibel suitable for human ears until now and the idea of getting into a conversation with the terrifying woman was daunting.

“That’s probably me, I guess,” Hermione eventually sighed. She really didn’t want to be having this conversation.

“The mudblood?” Walburga scowled before her face shifted into one of curiosity, “But you aren’t… are you? I can sense it.”

“I… um… I guess, I’m your Granddaughter.” Hermione muttered the words quickly.

She could sense Theo bugging out beside her, putting the connection together. Walburga shifted in her frame to get a proper look at Hermione.

“Don’t mumble girl.”

“I’m your Granddaughter,” Hermione spoke clearer this time.

“My failure of a son Sirius?”

“No… And he isn’t a failure.” Hermione snapped back.

“My Regulus?” Walburga’s voice had become hushed, almost affectionate.

“Yes.”

“My baby boy had a baby girl? What blessed news.” Walburga’s face changed into an expression slightly more smile than grimace, although still not what Hermione would call friendly.

“Um yeah. That’s me.”

Walburga’s eyes narrowed again, looking her up and down. Hermione felt uncomfortable and exposed under her gaze. Neither boy on either side of her dared to speak. She knew Harry wouldn’t intervene; being still classed as a ‘dirty blood traitor’, he wouldn’t want to risk the paintings ire.

“But you presented as a mudblood? I couldn’t feel you before?” Hermione flinched at the woman’s use of the slur; it was juxtaposed with the borderline affectionate tone Walburga was using.

“It appears I was hidden… or given away. We only found out today when Sirius tried to adopt me.”

The painting sniffed.

“Who is your mother?”

Hermione glanced at Theo, “Lysa Nott.”

“My Aunt.” Theo added for clarification. His voice cracked slightly, echoing in the hallway. Despite the tension of the moment, Hermione found it amusing that he was clearly nervous to speak in front of the painting of a woman, long dead, who he’d never met.

“A strong family. It makes sense that my son would see right to form such an alliance. Thoros was always a good man.” The woman in the painting closed her eyes with a smile, as if she was thinking back to happy memories. Hermione thought that, for a second, she looked quite pretty, the witches hard-exterior disappearing for a second.

Theo scoffed and made to make a retort back, but Hermione stopped him, grabbing his arm to prevent him from continuing.

“Yes, well, it’s been a long day and I’m dealing with a lot this evening. New family and all of that.”

“Very well, child. I expect to speak more with you.” Walburga turned back into her painting and the curtains closed of their own accord. Had that happened since the house had been re-occupied? Hermione wondered.

Hermione and Harry stood stunned at the near cordial interaction Hermione had managed to have with the psychopath witch.

“So that was Sirius’ mum? She seems… well, serious.” Theo offered.

“That was positively a cuddle, kisses and hot chocolate in comparison to what we’ve seen. She normally screams the house down,” Harry replied, proceeding to make his way up the stairs, “”Blood traitors, disgraces to the House of Black”, yada yada...” he gave a good, albeit muted, imitation of the witch as they ascended the staircase.

“I see. Makes sense that she thinks sunshine and rainbows shone out of my Grandfather’s ass then.” Theo huffed.

Hermione heard Harry chuckle behind her. She pushed open the door to the room Narcissa had set up for her, thinking back to this morning when she’d used the space as an escape. Gods, it feels so long ago.

“Well, I guess this is my room.”

“You know, this is weirdly similar to your room at your house Mia…” Theo said walking into the space and looking it over. “It’s a bit brighter though.”

“You know, it was always meant to be yours, adoption or no adoption. I think the moment you blasted Sirius out of the astronomy tower he decided that he was going to keep you in his life.” Harry offered, nudging her shoulder with his.

Hermione shrugged and moved onto the bed. Crookshanks had already made his way up to the room before them and was curled up on the pillows.

Theo dropped her trunk on the floor near the wardrobe. There was an awkward silence for a moment before Theo spoke.

“Hey Mia? I need to ask you something?” his voice was low and ominous, and he was facing away from the rest of the room.

Hermione turned to look at the boy’s back, and Harry shifted so he was stood semi-defensively just away from the bed, apparently concerned at what Theo was going to say next.

“Yeah?” Hermione said hesitantly, not sure where this was going.

“Why the bloody hell do you need to read so much?! I think your trunk has stretched my arms?” He spun around holding his arms out stiffly in front of him. While he’d been turned away from the room, he’d shrunk his shirt sleeves dramatically so that they only reached his elbows in order to exacerbate his point. He was pulling a ridiculous pouting face.

Harry let out a cough of laughter.

“Hey! You guys packed the bag!?” Hermione pulled a throw cushion from behind her and chucked it at Theo who caught it quickly and threw it back, hitting Harry in the process.

“Godric, you need to work on your aim Nott!” Harry cried, spinning the pillow in between his hands before chucking it back in Theo’s direction.

“Think again mon petit chou, my aim was perfect.”

Hermione let out a small giggle at the French turn of phrase. Harry looked bewildered and was confused long enough to receive another cushion to the face.

“Looks like you might need to work on those seeker’s reflexes, Potter. That fancy Firebolt can’t do everything for you.”

Hermione laughed again, loud enough this time that it caught Harry’s attention.

“Oh no no! You aren’t immune to this fight.” Harry tossed the cushion between his hands a couple of times before firing it towards Hermione. She pulled her wand from her pocket and stilled the cushion in mid-air before it could reach her. She duplicated it and began tauntingly moving the two cushions into position to aim at each boy. Something about using her wand felt different, she’d felt it earlier in the day when she’d summoned her bag, but the sensation felt stronger now; a crackle and power behind the spells she used that she hadn’t felt before.

“She’s hoisted us at our own petard!” Theo cried, ducking to the floor. Harry made for the ensuite, but neither were quick enough to avoid the soft furnishings she sent hurtling their way. She was fully laughing now, listening to both boys groaning as the cushions made contact, harder than she had intended. She summoned the pillows back to her and made ready to aim them again.

“No fair Mia!” Theo’s muffled voice came from the floor next to her bed.

“You started it!”

“You’re using fourth year spells! Hell, I think that might be a fifth-year spell.”

“So? You didn’t lay any ground rules.”

Harry’s hands appeared in surrender from around the ensuite door where he was hiding.

“Well! I think we’ve officially christened your bedroom… girly pillow fight and everything,” he chuckled, emerging back into the room. Hermione laughed with him and Theo joined in, resting his elbows on the bed from where he was sat on the floor. As she laughed, Hermione found her eyes beginning to sting and fresh tears proceeded to roll down her face.

“Hey hey hey! What happened?” Theo scrambled up onto the bed next to her and Harry quickly moved to join him at her side.

“I think… I’m happy. I’m sad, but I’m also happy. Harry Potter and Theodore Nott are in the same room, my room at Lord Black’s house, and Sirius is free and downstairs ordering pizza and… it’s just all a lot. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“World’s colliding?” Harry mused.

“Little bit, yeah.”

“What did your parents say?” Theo asked, his tone now serious.

“Oh, they were really good,” she sniffed, “I mean, they don’t really believe it. How could they? They’re just taking Sirius and Remus’ word for it. I hardly believe it myself.”

“They want DNA tests?” Harry offered. Theo looked confused at the term but didn’t say anything.

“Yeah. I don’t think it’ll really mean anything until we do that. They said I’m still their daughter though.” Silent tears were running down her face now and she used the blanket on the bed to blot her face.

“Of course you are.” Theo rubbed her knee. “It’ll all work out. It’s like Remus said. They’ve just been given a lot of information they need to sort through.”

“Yeah, and in the meantime, you get to hang out me!” Harry threw his hands in the air in an attempt at lightening the mood, “… and him.” He jokingly scowled in Theo’s direction.

“Well I, for one, am happy to be here Princess, even if it means I have to spend time with Potter.” Theo prodded her cheek a couple of times trying to force her into a smile.  

He almost succeeded, but Hermione turned to him with a frown, “Nope. No way. Sirius is already calling me ‘kitten’, don’t add ‘Princess’ to the mix. What am I? A damsel in distress?”

“I was thinking more, descendant of two pureblood houses. You might as well be royalty.” Theo replied innocently.

“Yes, well. Regardless, I’m no Princess.”

The room went still for a moment.

“Kitten is definitely more appropriate.” Harry stated.

“Oh?” Hermione replied with a scoff, “and how do you figure that?”

“You’re small, furry…” he tugged on a strand of her hair and she responded by slapping his arm away, he laughed, “and you’ve got claws.”

“Meow!” Theo giggled before turning serious and looking Hermione dead in the eye, “So, what is pizza?”

Remus stepped back into the house after his trip to the payphone down the road to place the pizza order and took a breath to compose himself before entering the drawing room.

“Pizza’s ordered and should arrive in around 30 minutes. How are the kids?”

Sirius was sat on the sofa, elbows resting on his knees and shoulders hunched as he stared intently at the glass of firewhiskey in his hands.

“Yeah, fine. I heard some shrieking for a bit, but it was followed by laughter, so I presume they’re okay.”

His voice was barely a whisper and Remus recognised that his tone was one far too familiar to how he used to sound when he returned to Hogwarts after a holiday spent with his family. It used to take the Marauders days to lift the sullen boy from whatever headspace he had entered into.

“Talk to me.” Remus settled onto the seat next to Sirius, leaning back against the upholstery. From this position he couldn’t see Sirius’ face, allowing his partner to reply honestly without the scrutiny of someone watching his face. It was a trick he’d learnt when dealing with students.

“I’ve lost so much… They took so much.”

They did. From all of us who survived the war, but you most of all.”

“Did I survive though? Thirteen years in Azkaban. Thirteen fucking years of the worst memories in my life being forced upon me on a daily basis. I don’t know if I know how to be who they need me to be.” He jerked his glass towards the ceiling in the direction of Hermione’s room, “I want it, with all my heart, but I’m not the same as I used to be Moony.”

Remus stretched out his arm and ran his hand over Sirius’ back.

“Do you know how I know you will be perfect for them? Why we will be perfect for them?”

Sirius shrugged his shoulders.

“Because you’re here. Hermione may have orchestrated your ‘official’ release, but she wouldn’t have been able to do that if you had given up on Harry. You stayed true to your promise to James and Lily, to protect him. You fought to escape. You kept that beautiful brain of yours sane, despite being imprisoned in the pits of hell. You did that for him. And that’s how I know you’ll be the best godfather, guardian, husband… and Uncle.”

Sirius choked back a sob, his body trembling under Remus’ hand. Remus however couldn’t hold back the overwhelming emotion that was taking over.

“I’m so ashamed of myself,” a cry tore from his throat. Sirius span around in shock at his partner’s outburst and pulled Remus towards him, holding the sandy haired wizard’s head to his shoulder. Remus tried to push him away slightly, opening the space between them.

“I just don’t know how you can forgive me. For not believing your innocence. For not fighting for you. Dumbledore didn’t tell me where Harry was, but I should have tried harder. I shouldn’t have stopped until he was with me. You didn’t stop.”

“Shh, Remus, stop!” He pulled the man back into his arms. “If Dumbledore didn’t want you to find him you weren’t going to. I had the advantage of helping Lily move her stuff when she moved in with Prongs. I had a starting place to look. You can’t blame yourself for not knowing.”

“But you. I abandoned you!”  

Sirius stilled. They’d already gone over this conversation a number of times since they’d been reunited, but they both knew it wasn’t going to be something that would be dropped easily. The rage Sirius had felt in those initial months after his arrest, when he began to realise that no-one was coming to release him, when he realised that there wasn’t going to be a trial, were still raw. The memories were a well of darkness in his chest he could easily fall into if he thought about it too long.

He exhaled, “I know you Moony.”

He cradled Remus’ face with his hands, brushing a tear away from the man’s cheek.

“It hurt. But I know you. You wouldn’t have thought it was me without good reason. Pettigrew gave you that in the form of twelve dead muggles and a severed finger. And I gave it to you by not telling you that James and Lily had swapped secret keepers.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know. So am I.”

Sirius placed a kiss on Remus’ lips and pulled him into a tighter embrace. Remus was tense at first, but it didn’t take long for him to ease into the kiss, Sirius’ tongue darting across his lips, teasing his mouth open. Sirius fisted Remus’ hair, pulling his head back and, exposing his neck, he continued to trail light kisses along Remus’ jawline and down to his Adams apple. Remus had calmed and Sirius pulled away to look at his fiancé. The man’s eyes were bloodshot, and holding the remnants of tears, but a hint of their golden spark had returned. He closed them and took a deep breath. Sirius took the opportunity to place a light kiss on each of his eyelids.

“I love you, you stupid wolf.”

“And I you, dog. You can do this.”

“We can do this. You are part of this. We are going to be the best fucking guardians for those two teenagers.”

There was a squeal from upstairs and the two adults listened as Theo began shouting a number of swear words in French and English.

“Three. I think we might have found ourselves with three teenagers.” Remus sighed.

Sirius reached for the drink he had placed on the coffee table.

“Well, we always joked we’d have a brood. At least we missed the nappy stage.” There was a thump from above them, and further shouting.

“Yeah, well it would appear we’ve jumped to having teenagers. And, remembering you at that age, I’m not sure it’ll be as easy going as you think.”

There was another bang and they heard Hermione giggle. Sirius tensed.

“She’ll be okay you know. She’s so strong. I can feel it more now. Since the adoption I can feel her magic. It’s so unique.” Remus was rubbing his temple.

“There’s so much that doesn’t make sense about this entire situation. About Reggie and Lysa. About how Hermione ended up with her parents.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of it. Now we’ve found her we can work it all out.”

“Do you think it was Reggie who obliviated her parents?”

“No idea. It would make sense if he wanted to keep her hidden. But they picked godparents for a reason. Why choose people to care for your child in your absence and then not arrange for them to have the ability to do so?” Remus was frowning.

“You would have brought her up?”

“If I had known where she was, yes. Or helped Narcissa do it. I’m not exactly considered an upstanding member of the wizarding community,” Remus sounded sure in his answer, “She would have been better placed with Narcissa. Hell, she’d probably have even been better off with Severus than an unemployed werewolf.”

“I…” Sirius was about to reply but before he could continue, he felt the wards being approached. “Pizza. I’ll go find the delivery driver before he gets confused. You call the kids?”

He rose to leave the room, but not before Remus took the opportunity to kiss him again.

“We can do this.” Remus repeated.

Sirius nodded, exiting the room and the house.  

Theo’s day had been crazy.

He’d started it as usual; a wakeup call by his elf Gerald, a lazy bath, a lazy breakfast and then a lazy morning re-reading Jane Eyre while demolishing a pack of ‘Fruit Pastilles’. If Mia hadn’t already been slowly becoming his favourite person already, introducing him to Fruit Pastilles was likely to solidify the title.

When Draco had arrived, huffing and puffing and forcing him through the floo to Malfoy Manor, the day had taken a bit of a turn. Draco wasn’t particularly prone to being dramatic, so being kidnapped by him in the middle of the day had just made Theo excited.

The gathering was intriguing. The results of the gathering… distressing at first, before he decided that this was the best thing to happen to him in years. Now, he was floating on air. Yes, he knew Mia was sad and all this was pretty damn sucky in the scheme of happy families, but he didn’t have a happy family. This actually worked the opposite for him; it made his dark as fuck family, not so dark as fucky.

And now? Now he was sat on the floor in Sirius Black’s house, eating nectar. Sweet, sweet nectar.

“And you just order this to your house?” He was holding up a piece of Hawaiian pizza in front of his face, making a study of it before ramming it into his mouth.

“Yes, Theo.” Hermione was laughing at his display. “Godric, I don’t understand how wizarding society functions sometimes. We ring up, ask for food, and they deliver.”

“Ring on phones?”

“We ring on phones.”

“An ‘ey know where ‘ou liff?” Theo didn’t care that he was talking with mouthful of food.

“We tell them where to go, and they drive or cycle here.”

“And this is how pizza works?”

Harry was laughing now, and Theo suddenly didn’t appreciate being out of the loop, he shot the messy haired boy his best glare. Harry noticed and calmed slightly.

Remus watched the interaction, deciding to jump in.

“We can order different types of cuisines. It’s quite common in the muggle world for establishments to solely focus on cooking food to be consumed at home, rather than in a restaurant format. Indian, Chinese, Italian (predominantly pizza), fish and chips. For a consumer, it saves on washing up, time and is easier after a workday.”

“Think of it as like having a house-elf popping up and delivering you food, but with a 30 minute delay and the occasional risk of food poisoning.” Sirius shrugged.

“To be honest, I don’t understand why wizarding restaurants don’t have that service? It’d be easy enough to do with apparition and house elves right?” Hermione mused.

“You might be onto something, kitten…” Theo watched as Sirius’ face grew ponderous. It was a good idea.

“Isn’t Zabini Italian? How have you never had pizza?” Hermione asked from her position on the floor.

“He tends to keep to himself outside of school and my Father…”  he didn’t know how to finish that sentence.

There was an awkward pause.

“So, tell us about Theodore Nott.”

Theo was surprised to find Harry asking the question and clearly his face portrayed the same thought.

“Hey!” Harry raised his hands in defence, “You’ve decided to be friends with Hermione. I think I get to do the whole protective brother thing.”

Theo looked around the room. Sirius and Remus had settled back on the sofa; Sirius’ arm was around Remus while his other picked at pizza crusts in the cardboard box laid across their lap.

Hermione was stretched in front of the fire, her back to the floor, facing the ceiling. She hadn’t said much throughout the evening, but every so often Theo noticed her glance over at him, and she seemed happy that he was there.

“You aren’t her sister.”

Theo took another bite of pizza. Honestly, whoever thought of this creation was a genius. More fruit on savoury things, he made a mental note, maybe strawberries on steak? He’d ask Gerald to give it a go.

“Might as well be. And you, are a Slytherin.”

“Harry, remember the black and white.” Sirius spoke from the sofa.

“Yeah, well, it’s not as easy to just ignore as you think.” Harry grumbled, shoving his own slice of pizza in his mouth.

“I don’t mind, Mr Black, Sir.” Sirius rolled his eyes at the moniker.

“It’s Sirius, Theo. And I’m getting bored of telling you.”

“Apologies, Mr Black, Sir,” Theo saluted and Sirius let out an exasperated sigh. Remus looked like he was suppressing a laugh.

“Well, Potter. What do you want to know? My mother died when I was four. I’m pretty sure that my father was behind it in some way. I don’t remember it much, but sometimes I have dreams that make me wonder if I was actually there. Father’s mental. Pretty sadistic fuck.” Theo looked at Harry who seemed surprised at his honesty, but didn’t stop, “I was mainly raised by elves. For a while my elf, Gerald, was my best friend in the world. Umm…. Draco and Blaise are my non-elf best friends. Ride or die. I like Transfiguration and Ancient Runes. I play the violin quite delightfully, if I say so myself, and I could dance anyone off a dancefloor. Dear old Mia has introduced me to the world of muggle fiction and music, for which I’m eternally grateful. And apparently pineapple on savoury things is my new favourite thing.”

Sirius was laughing and Theo relished in it. He didn’t spend much time around adults and, when he did, they were usually stiff and serious like Lucius and Narcissa. Not that he didn’t manage to get them to break their facades every now and then. Secretly, it was a personal mission of his to make the Malfoy parents crack as much as possible when he was in their presence, but Sirius was so open, he didn’t even need to try. Theo caught Remus’ eye as he looked at the couple on the sofa. Although his ex-Professor looked slightly amused, his face also held an expression of concern.

Ugh, shouldn’t have mentioned my father.

“What do you do in your spare time?” Harry pursued.

“He bugs me.” Hermione spoke from her position on the carpet. She was still laid down, looking at the ceiling.

“She loves it. I’m the highlight of her day. An escape from the ginger dunderbrains whinging and your brooding.”

“I didn’t realise you guys were so close.” Harry mumbled. “And I don’t brood.”

Theo felt a sense of satisfaction that his friendship with Hermione clearly came across as a strong one.

“Whatever. You’ve mastered the ‘I’m all steely eyed and serious’ look.” Theo enjoyed watching Harry’s face as the boy decided whether the statement was a compliment or an insult. “Anyway, Mia just couldn’t resist my charming personality the moment we were paired together in Runes.”

“Pfft. I had to get you to stop squeaking each time you said something you thought was offensive to muggles. Once we got you over that hurdle it was smooth sailing.” Hermione chuckled to herself.

“Yes, well… engrained values and all that.” Theo took another bite of pizza, “’ou fink am grea’ mow.”

“Merlin Theo, swallow before you talk.” Remus was laughing.

“I thought you had pureblood manners, boy!” Sirius howled.

Theo smirked, swallowing his food down, “Gotta piss off the old man somehow!”

A clock in the hallway began to chime and Theo glanced at the clock on the mantle piece. Remus noticed the action.

“Are you expected back, Theo?”

“Father’s not home, so I’m my own master at the moment… but Gerald will probably be starting to get concerned. I didn’t anticipate being out so long when Draco abducted me earlier today.” He began to collect himself, looking mournfully at the pizza box in front of him.

“Take the pizza if you want, we have more than enough here.” Sirius said, getting up off the sofa.

Hermione had twisted into a cross-legged sitting position and was watching him with a sad look on her face.

“Hey, Mia, don’t be looking like that. You’re stuck with me now.” He lifted her to her feet and gave her a hug. She was so small stood against him, the top of her head hardly reaching his shoulders. “Can I come over tomorrow?”

“Thank you.” She sniffed, “If Sirius and Remus are fine with it, yeah, I’d like that.”

Theo turned back to the room. Sirius was stood next to Remus and Harry had joined them.

“You’re more than welcome to come over whenever you wish Theo.” Sirius offered.

“Brilliant.” He beamed, “Mr Black, Sir, thank you for having me. It’s been lovely to see you again, Professor.”

He winked at both men and they rolled their eyes in return at his refusal to use their first names. This would be fun.

He then turned to the black-haired, bespectacled teenager stood tensely at their side and gave an exaggerated, flourished bow, “Lord Potter.”

Theo didn’t give Harry an opportunity to reply, quickly picking up his pizza box, grabbing a handful of floo powder and disappearing into the flame.

Harry didn’t know what to make of the boy. He was chaos personified, had no filter and was apparently at ease with everyone despite having met three of the group only hours previously.

Sirius and Remus were laughing at his departure and Hermione appeared happy knowing he would be returning tomorrow. Everyone began returning to their seats.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hanging out with him all year,” Harry picked up a slice of the remaining pizza and settled next to Hermione on the floor near the fire.

“He’s been great. He’s ridiculous, but he wears his heart on his sleeve. I’ve never had any worries about where he stands with me.”

“He’s definitely not what I would have expected out of Tiberius’ son.” Sirius contributed.

“Is he really that bad?” Hermione inched forwards slightly.

Sirius didn’t seem sure what to say, glancing at Remus.

“I think I’ve mentioned that my upbringing wasn’t ideal. My parents were stalwart Voldemort supporters and blood purists. I think, based on what I know of Tiberius, Theo is probably living through the same kind of childhood. His Grandfather, Thoros, was Voldemort’s right-hand man; they knew each other at school. Tiberius followed in his father’s footsteps.”

“And Lysa…” Hermione hesitated over the name, “She went against that?”

Remus answered, “Lysa, was… different. She was sorted into Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin, not quite the coup that being sorted into Gryffindor would have been,” he tilted his head in Sirius’ direction, “but still not abiding by the expectations of her house. She was studious, inquisitive and easy to make friends with. She was obviously older than me, but we would regularly bump into each other in the library or in study sessions. That’s how I got to know her. And that’s why I was chosen to be her contact with the Order.”

Harry watched Hermione hug her knees into her chest, taking in the little bits of information she’d been given about her biological mother.

“I think I’m ready to go to bed.” Hermione announced suddenly, getting up from the floor.

“Okay kitten, let us know if you need anything.” Sirius and Remus stood, both pulling her into a hug.

“I’m going to head up as well.” Harry stood, following after Hermione as she left the room. Remus placed a hand on his back as he went.

“Check she’s okay,” the man said quietly.

Harry nodded, gave his godfather and Remus a smile and proceeded up the stairs.

Hermione had left her bedroom door open, so he entered behind her and took a seat on the end of her bed.

“Do you want to talk some more?” He offered.

She was fussing with her trunk, removing items of clothing, folding them, looking at the large chest of drawers in front of her before then depositing them back in the trunk.

“I don’t know whether to unpack.”

Harry understood what she was saying. How long was she staying here? The act of unpacking suggested she’d be at Grimmauld Place for a while.

“Maybe just leave everything for this evening?” he suggested. “It won’t do any harm leaving the stuff in your trunk for now.”

“I guess.”

“Do you want me to stick around?”

Hermione hesitated for a second, twisting at the fabric of her dress.

“Would you mind staying in here tonight?” She blushed as she asked the question. Harry didn’t really know what to say, he’d never stayed in the same room as a girl before. But Hermione didn’t really count, not in that way at least.

“Um… sure, no worries. I’ll just go and get changed and sort myself out.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

Harry left the room, entering his own across the hall and quickly changing into his pyjamas. He brushed his teeth, gave his face a wash and then headed back to Hermione’s bedroom, grabbing the heavy blanket from the bottom of his bed as he went.

Hermione’s door was closed now; he knocked and waited to hear her shout that he could come in before he pushed the door open and closed it behind him. Hermione was sat upright in bed wearing a large rugby shirt and jogging bottoms. She looked very unsure of herself.

“Sorry, I know this is weird.”

It is slightly weird, Harry thought.

“Not weird. Come on.”

He got on top of the covers next to Hermione and pulled his blanket over him, while she shimmied herself underneath the duvet.

“You good?” He asked. Unable to get a read on his friend’s face due to the abundance of hair in the way.

“Yeah. As good as I can be, I guess.”

Harry stretched out his hand to hers, which she took instantly. He gave it a squeeze before using his other hand to reach for his wand on the bedside table.

“We’ve got you, Hermione.”

“I know.”

“Nox.”

Chapter Text

A FORMAL ANNOUNCEMENT FROM THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK

Further to the formal pardoning of Lord Sirius Black, the Noble House of Black would like to announce the adoption of Lord Harry James Potter as heir to their house.

Lord Potter, who is also Lord Black’s godson, has accepted the adoption and the proceedings took place at Gringotts yesterday morning under the oversight of the house account manager.

Lord Potter also took the opportunity to accept his position as head of House Potter.

The House of Black would also like to announce to formal recognition of Hermione Cassiopeia Black, also known as Hermione Jean Granger, as a daughter of the House of Black.

Due to events during the first wizarding war, Ms Black’s true heritage was undisclosed to the wizarding community and has only recently came to light.

She is the confirmed daughter of Regulus Arcturus Black and Lysa Rose Nott, as verified by the Black account manager.

The House of Black ask that the wizarding community give the family privacy during this time as they adjust to the news, for the sake of all of the family members affected. 

Draco was re-reading the newspaper announcement in front of him. Ever since Theo had accosted him outside the library his life had been turned upside down, and now, Potter and Granger were members of his family. Potter, he could almost get his head around. The Potter’s were an old House, respected by many in the wizarding community and, whether Potter had realised it before now or not, they were already distantly related. Granger though… She was actually, actually, a Black.

“Draco, you’re ruining the newspaper.” His mother said lightly, eyeing where his hand was crumpling the paper. He tried to smooth it out, offering his apologies and placing it down on the table next to him. He tried to return his focus to his breakfast but found himself just simply staring at his plate of food.

“Talk, Draco.” His father lowered the financial paper he was reading slightly, in order to make eye contact with his son.

“What?” Draco grumbled.

“Dragon, you’ve spent more than ten minutes reading the announcement, and then a further three staring at your eggs. Either there’s something wrong with the food and you need to send it back to the kitchen, or you’re stuck in your thoughts. Which is it?”

His mother took a sip of tea from her cup.

“It’s nothing.” He picked up his fork and began stabbing at the poached egg on his plate.

“That egg would beg to differ.” His father raised an eyebrow over his paper. “Stop attacking the crockery and answer your mother.”

Draco hated it when his parents did this; ganging up on him to try and force him to talk about his feelings. His father usually left it to his mother but, on occasion, he would decide to get involved, making avoiding the topic even more difficult. Draco stared at his plate some more, refusing to speak. He knew he was acting like a child, but he still hoped that his parents would drop it.

“Draco…”

“It’s just all changed!” He exclaimed, chucking his fork down on the tablecloth, specks of orange egg yolk flicking onto the white fabric.

His mother glanced at the mess, unimpressed, and then to him; she was waiting for him to continue. Draco was familiar with this tactic as well. She wouldn’t ask a follow up question, but would leave him to lead the conversation, banking on him giving in to her scrutiny. He tried not to reply for a while longer, but soon the silence was excruciating, and he caved.

“Everything has changed. I thought we hated muggleborns - apparently, we don’t. I thought we hated blood traitors – apparently, we don’t. Harry Potter is an adopted Black now and I’m expected to be his friend, despite actively avoiding the guy for three years. And Hermione bloody Granger is actually a Black, oh, and the cousin of my best mate, who just LOVES her. Theo hasn’t stopped wittering on about her all year, ‘Granger this’, ‘Granger that’, and now they’re bloody related. She’s a pureblood! But I’ve spent the last three years treating her like crap.” He had hardly paused for breath as he ranted.

“Watch your language, Draco.” His father frowned.

“Oh, my dragon.” His mother moved to his side and ran her hand through his hair, moving it out of his face. “Out of everything you’ve just mentioned, what’s causing you the most concern?”

“I called her a mudblood.” He mumbled.

He kept his focus on the tablecloth, but he didn’t miss his parents exchange a look.

“You called her a mudblood…” he stilled for a second, “but now you know she’s a pureblood? Is that the issue?” his father asked, placing his newspaper down on the table next to him.

“No. Yes. I don’t know! I just feel bad, full stop. I was just acting like I thought I was meant to act. And now, not only did you not expect me to be like that, but, she wasn’t even that to begin with.”

His mother was fully sat next to him now, her hand on his arm where it rested on the table.

“Draco,” his father had now risen from his seat to move around the table, “I am truly sorry that we didn’t make it clearer what was expected at you at school. We are, admittedly, in a precarious position between the light and dark factions, but we should have brought you into that conversation sooner.”

Draco shrugged his shoulders non-committedly. It was exactly what he had been thinking but he didn’t want to say that. Why couldn’t they have told him sooner?

“I asked the other day whether you had been unkind to Hermione. Clearly, you’ve used slurs against her in the past and we will be discussing that another time, but is there anything else we need to know?”

Draco didn’t know where to begin, his mind flicked back his second year when he’d announced in front of everyone that Slytherin’s monster would get Hermione next. He began fiddling with the tablecloth, before his mother took a hold of his hand.

“I’ve not been great.”

His parents shared another look. He hated it when they spoke silently to each other.

“I just didn’t know.”

“Whether you knew or not, being mean to the girl wasn’t acceptable behaviour. Going forward I don’t expect you to behave in such a way to anyone with a lesser blood status. The Malfoy family is above that. But, in the meantime, if you want to make it up to Hermione, I’m sure she’ll understand.” His father said.

Draco highly doubted that she would. Granger was always fighting the good fight. She wasn’t just going to forget him being a prejudiced snob.

Noticing that his son didn’t seem convinced, Lucius spoke again.

“We aren’t expecting you to be best friends with either Harry or Hermione. You can decide for yourself if you want to pursue a friendship with either one of them. But you should be civil to both of them from now on. You and your classmates represent the future of our houses and the Black and Malfoy families have been united for generations, we don’t intend for that to change.”

Draco nodded. He wasn’t sure what kind of a relationship he wanted with either of the Gryffindors going forward.

“What I won’t accept, is you acting like a child at the breakfast table.” His father continued, as he made his way back to his seat at the head of the table. The conversation was clearly at an end. “You are a Malfoy and should behave as such. And, in future, if you have a problem, please discuss it with your mother or myself, rather than taking it out on your Grandmother Druella’s china.”

“Sorry Father.”

They finished breakfast in relative silence. Mipsy arrived with a bundle of letters - more than usual, Draco noticed. She handed the majority to his Father, another large pile to his mother and a handful to him. He recognised Pansy’s handwriting on the top letter. Of course, she would be after the gossip. He sighed.

“Can I be excused? I’m going to head to my room to answer these before Pansy begins sending an owl for an hourly update.”

His mother chuckled, knowing full well what Pansy was like, “Of course, my dragon, send her our love and tell her I’m looking forward to seeing her next week.”

He left the breakfast room unsure exactly what he was going to say to his friends.

Merlin, school was going to be so different now.

“How long should we let them sleep?”

“Give them a bit longer Moony. I think they need it.” Sirius was reading the announcement again. It was vague enough, but to the point, and he appreciated that the initial statement was regarding his adoption of Harry. He was sure that the boy didn’t mind, but he didn’t want him to feel overshadowed by the turn of events concerning Hermione. At Lucius’ request there wasn’t a follow up article, but Sirius was sure that they’d be faced with something in the coming days.

Remus was making his way through the mountain of letters that Kreacher had delivered to them that morning.

“The Parkinson’s and Greengrass’ want to meet. So do the Abbotts, Shacklebolts and MacMillans. Oh fuck.”

“What?” Sirius looked up from the paper.

“Dumbledore.” Remus handed the parchment to Sirius.

Sirius scanned the letter.

“He calls me ‘boy’.” He scowled at the text.

“He wants to meet with you.” Remus pointed out.

“Not yet. We need more time. I’ll need to let Lucius know that he’s been in contact. We aren’t going to get in the same room as him until we know more about what happened with Harry’s magic. We also need to know more about Hermione. I’m sure he’ll have questions.”

“He won’t take kindly to being out of the loop.”

“Screw him.”

“Sirius…”

“No. He doesn’t get to dictate how we deal with this situation. He has no say in my House. He has absolutely no hold over Harry or Hermione. We will work through this and he can wait.” Remus watched as Sirius incendio'd the paper he was holding.

“It’s odd. Did you notice that he mentioned Harry, of course, but he didn’t mention Hermione at all. You’d think finding out that one of his students has a different heritage, a muggleborn at that, would be worth questioning, but he says nothing.”

“Maybe he wrote his letter before the announcement came out? Regardless, it doesn’t make a difference. We’re still not speaking to him about Harry or Hermione.”

Remus shrugged, turning back to the letters. Sirius was in one of his belligerent moods and there wasn’t much point arguing.

“Augusta congratulates you on your release and wants to have a House meeting the day after next.”

“Brilliant. Can you make a note to discuss that with Lucius as well? We’ll be seeing him and my cousins later today. They should all be present at the meeting with Augusta whenever we get that scheduled for. But, before then, we need to try and get an idea of where we stand generally within the Wizengamot. Based on Augusta’s intervention at the hearing, I definitely want to know what our position with the Longbottoms is at the moment. I’ll write to her now to suggest a time and place.”

Sirius picked up a large quill from the ink pot in front of him, tapped the excess ink off the tip and began drafting a reply on letter headed parchment. Signing the letter and using his signet ring to add the Black family seal, he looked back to Remus who was proceeding to sort through more letters.

“Do you have any idea why she endorsed the guardianship? After everything that happened to her family at the hands of the Lestrange’s, I would have thought she would have balked at the idea of Harry being associated with my family, especially after we showed up at the Wizengamot with the Malfoys. I’d like to make reparations if she’s amenable.”

“I have no idea. She was always pragmatic at Order meetings and she was one of only a handful of people who would ever openly challenge Dumbledore. The fact that she didn’t follow his lead at the hearing speaks to that. I haven’t heard much about her since the war. House Longbottom have kept themselves to themselves.”

“Hm… Alice and Frank’s boy is in Gryffindor with Harry, right?”

“Yeah, Neville. He’s quiet, under confident, but a good kid. He seems like a solid friend to Harry and has been a loyal to Hermione as well.”

“Okay, well, regardless of how the meeting with Augusta goes, I want to make sure that the House of Black is looking out for him. Alice was Harry’s godmother, and Lily was Neville’s. What Bellatrix did...” He trailed off. “He’s part of the litter.”

Sirius looked over to were Remus was still sifting through letters, “I’m sorry to use you like a secretary.”

“We both know I’m better at this stuff than you,” Remus chuckled, “Think of me as the Tom Hagen to your Michael Corleone.”

He pointed to a pile of letters to his left.

“These all need replies that I’m happy to draft or issue if you want. They’re just pleasantries. These,” he pointed to a significantly larger pile on his right, “are from families we probably need to begin working on relationships with, for political and social reasons.” 

Sirius barked out a laugh. “You can be my consigliere any day. What are those letters?”

He was indicating to a smaller stack of envelopes at the end of the table.

“They’re for Harry and Hermione. A couple of them have similar handwriting, I think they’re from Ron and possibly Neville as well.”

“Do we need to be worried about the Weasley boy?”

Remus bristled.

“Why do you ask that?”

“Considering he’s their best friend, he didn’t look overly enthused when he was talking to Harry and Hermione at the hearing.”

Remus thought for a while. He’d watched the trio together across the year, and despite the issues surrounding Scabbers, Ron definitely seemed to be a good friend to Harry. The boy had tried to stand on a broken leg in the Shrieking Shack in order to place himself between Sirius and the boy, for Godric’s sake. His relationship with Hermione was, admittedly, more strained.

“I’m not sure. He’s been a great friend to Harry. And although his friendship with Hermione has been hot and cold this year, they’re clearly close. He can be hot tempered, but you aren’t exactly perfect in that regard and...” Sirius stopped him from continuing.

“Hot tempered how?”

“He’s a teenager Sirius. But I guess, he tends to be quick to anger and appears to hold grudges. He isn’t exactly a fan of the Malfoy’s, presumably as a result of his parents rather than his own judgement, and I told you how he was with Hermione about the Scabbers thing. But…” Remus knew he should mention Ron’s reaction the other day, but he also knew that Sirius wasn’t going to take it well. Sirius wasn’t breaking eye contact with him in an attempt to get him to continue speaking, “Well, he got a bit aggressive with Hermione the other night in Fudge’s office before you arrived. Draco of all people ended up stepping in, which was quite the surprise and, as you can imagine, didn’t help matters.”

Sirius frowned but didn’t say anything, waiting for Remus to provide more information.

“Ron grabbed her arm.”

“He what?” Sirius growled.

Remus cut Sirius off, “I don’t think Ron realises how cruel he’s being a lot of the time. Beyond what I saw on Saturday, which yes, was most definitely a step too far, and one that myself and Narcissa were quick to react to, it seems to be general teenage moodiness and insecurity. I’m not trying to make excuses for him. I can assure you, when he placed his hand on her I had the intense urge to detach limbs.”

Remus could sense Moony moving to the forefront of his brain as the image of Ron pulling on Hermione’s arm and her wince in pain played over in his head; at least he knew now why he had felt so protective over the girl. At the time he’d just been faced with the overwhelming urge to destroy a teenager. He took a deep breath, pushing the wolf back again. Sirius seemed to clock his need to calm down and turned back to the papers in front of him to give his partner the space to breathe. Feeling steadier, Remus began again.

“But, at the end of the day, I can see that it probably isn’t easy being the best friend of Harry Potter. Your heard Hermione talking about how she was hesitant to mention anything financial in front of him. Add to that the fact that he has five older brothers, and I can imagine he feels very overshadowed. But… Hermione does seem to be the one to take the brunt of his mood swings.”

“Hmph. Inferiority complex or not, we’re going to keep an eye on him.”

Remus felt bad for the ginger haired boy. Sirius had hardly interacted with him and was definitely not becoming a fan, which wasn’t ideal considering Harry and Ron were so close. Remus knew the boy had issues to overcome but they weren’t entirely of his own doing.

“Did you see how Harry reacted to Theo last night? Theo is a perfectly lovely boy, energetic, runs his mouth off and has no filter, but is obviously a decent friend to Hermione. I don’t get the impression that Harry has ever really interacted with him before, but, because he is a Slytherin, Harry automatically had his back up. Harry has only been in the wizarding world for three years and that’s how he reacts. Ron has lived it his whole life. Godric knows what his parents are saying to him behind closed doors. He can’t be blamed for his indoctrinated views, in the same way that Reg…”

Sirius involuntarily stabbed his quill into the parchment in front of him, the motion causing the ink well to rock, spilling ink onto the table.

“… I’m just saying. He’s a teenager. There’s time for him to learn. But, this,” he indicated to the room in general, his eyes flicking towards the ceiling in recognition of the two children sleeping upstairs, “…I acknowledge that this will probably be a difficult development for him.”

Sirius used his wand to clear the ink spill from the table and pulled a new piece of parchment in front of him.

“I still want to keep an eye on him. The Weasley’s are far too imbedded with Dumbledore.”

“Do we know who holds the Prewett seat at the moment?” Remus was changing the subject.

“No idea. When Fabs and Gids died I presume it passed to one of the Weasley children. Has no-one taken it up in the Wizengamot?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

Remus had tried to stay on top of the current political landscape in recent years, but in the aftermath of the war he’d missed a lot, his mental state not capable of reading the names of those lost and those who had replaced them.

“Maybe we should reach out to them?” Sirius was spinning the quill between his thumb and forefinger.

“The Weasley’s?”

“Yes, eventually, but I meant the Head of the House of Prewett. Suss out where they stand.”

“Why would it be any different to their parents? Presuming it is one of the Weasley children.”

“Different generation? We should do some investigation at least. I’m sure Cissa knows.”

Remus scribbled a reminder on the notepad next to him.

“What else needs doing?” He asked.

A small voice came from the other side of the room. “Harry needs to decide on a proxy for Wizengamot sessions. He needs to maintain his seat, but his focus should be on school at the moment.” Hermione was stood in the doorway, rubbing her eyes. Neither adult had noticed her slip into the kitchen. She was still wearing her pyjamas.

Remus made to stand, but she took a seat alongside him before he could properly greet her. Sirius caught his eye and gave him a look that clearly indicated that they should continue like normal without making a fuss.

“Good point,” Sirius said, “We can discuss that later today.”

Sirius began rubbing his temples in an attempt to bring to mind everything else that needed doing.

“We need to arrange for a muggle DNA test. My parents won’t believe anything fully until we’ve done that.”

“We can hold off on doing that for now if you want. Give you all some more time?”

“No, I need to know. They need to know.”

“Okay kitten, we’ll make sure to get that sorted as soon as possible.”

“Did you sleep okay?” Remus conjured an extra mug and began pouring Hermione a cup of coffee.

“I guess… We need to speak to my grandma. I’ve been thinking that she might have some information about my parents… about Regulus and Lysa? She knew I was a witch because she’d ‘met a wizarding couple’. That can’t be a coincidence, right?”

“We can make that happen. Do you want something to ea…”

“Harry needs to visit his home as well. He should go to Godric’s Hollow. He’s never been, and it doesn’t seem right. And he should check the Potter vaults. Did Regulus have his own vault? We should probably investigate to see whether there’s information about me there.”

“Hermione…”

“And I was thinking that both of us need to take lessons about the Wizengamot. I’ve read some stuff, but Harry is clueless. He needs to understand how it works if he’s going to be Lord Potter. Even if he’s going to have a proxy while he’s at school.” She was picking at her fingernails now and talking at a ridiculous speed, “And we should contact the Muggle Liason office to see if they know anything about my Mum and Dad having their memories altered. They might be able to reverse it… or we could contact St Mun…

“Hermione, stop.” Remus took hold of the girl’s hands and he looked to Sirius for backup. “You need to stop for a second.”

“Moony’s right. Your brain is working in overdrive. You don’t need to be thinking about all of this stuff. Let us do that for you.”

“I can’t though!”

Remus was still holding her hands and became aware of her arms tensing and beginning to shake. Looking at the girl’s face, tears were beginning to pour out of her bloodshot eyes.

“What can’t you do Hermione?”

“I can’t stop thinking! There’s just so much. How can I just sit here doing nothing when nothing in my life makes sense anymore? I need to make it make sense.”

She was fully crying now, guttural cries escaping from her chest and Remus was quick to pull her into his side. She buried her head in his shoulder, her entire body heaving as she continued to weep. Sirius moved around the table in alarm, taking a seat on her other side and stroking her back.

“Hey hey hey.” Sirius soothed, “I’m so sorry Hermione. Neither of us can imagine what this is like for you. But please, let us do the work. We’re the adults. We’ll get to the bottom of this. Just let us take care of you and Harry. It’s our turn to do that now. Please try and breathe for us.” She was gasping for air and hyperventilating as she tried to breathe between sobs.

Remus felt her shuffle further into his side, her hands grabbing at the fabric of his top. He looked to Sirius who seemed at a loss as to what to do or say next.

“Hermione?” Remus spoke. He saw her head twitch in recognition, her shaking subsiding slightly. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

Remus looked over the mass of hair in front of him and caught Sirius’ eye before they both focussed their attention on the girl sat between them. She had stilled and wasn’t making any movement in confirmation or denial beyond the occasional shudder as she schooled her breath. That in itself gave them the answer.

“I think, you should head back to bed. You’ve been hit with a lot of information and you really need to get some rest.” Sirius suggested.

“No, I can’t sleep. We have things to do.” Her voice was muffled from where her face was pressed into Remus’ side.

“Hermione…”

“No. I’m not going back to bed.”

“Okay kitten. Well, how about I ask Kreacher to run you a bath instead? You need to unwind. You’re full of knots.”

“I don’t need…”

“Hermione.” Remus pulled away from the girl so that he could look at her face. She tried to avoid looking at him directly, but soon their hazel and golden eyes locked, and they held each other’s gaze for a few seconds before she conceded.

“Fine.” She whispered.

“Kreacher?” Sirius called.

The wizened old elf appeared. When he noticed that Hermione had been crying, his eyes widened in concern.

“Is Missy Hermy ill? Kreacher can fetch potions.”

“She’s not ill. But could you please run a bath for Hermione in her ensuite? Maybe use a relaxation solution if there’s one in the house?”

“Of course, Master Sirius. Kreacher will fill the bath with lots of bubbles just as Missy Cissa used to like.” He disappeared with a pop.

“Missy Hermy?” Sirius chuckled, “That’s new.”

“It’s kind of sweet.” Hermione sniffed, using her sleeve to clear her face.

“Is Harry awake?” Sirius asked and Hermione snapped her attention to him.

“Yeah, just. I’m sorry, he slept in my room last night. I should have checked with you to see if that was alright.”

“If it was what you needed last night, kitten, it’s fine by me. I don’t have any issues with you two sharing a room. I know there isn’t anything I need to be worried about.”

Remus watched as Hermione’s face relaxed. Apparently, that had been something else on the list of things she was worrying about and having Sirius confirm it wasn’t a problem had eased something for her.

“I’ll um, head upstairs… I’m sorry for crying on you.” She climbed out from where she was sandwiched between Remus and Sirius on the bench, still ridding her face of tears using her sleeve.

“Any time Hermione. Your need to remember that we’re the adults and we’re both here, whenever you need us, this isn’t for you to sort out. We’ll have a pepper-up potion waiting for you when you come back downstairs.”

Remus wanted to reach out to her and give her another squeeze but held back. Too much, too soon. Her head whipped round as he thought it and she looked at him like she understood. He heard her say thank you, so quiet he wasn’t even sure he saw her lips move, before she then left the room.

Sirius moved back to his original seat on the other side of the table. Once he was confident that Hermione had made her way up the stairs he spoke,

“Merlin, what does it say about the last couple of years that she feels like everything is on her shoulders to sort out?” Sirius chucked the paper away from where he was sat.

“It doesn’t speak well… and it seems par for the course based on what she and Harry have gone through.” Remus tried not to dwell on the countless tales Minerva had told him when he took up his teaching post. “She is right though, we have a lot to do.”

“We can give them a day. Harry mentioned shopping. I think a trip to muggle London might be just what they need. Get them out of the wizarding world for a bit. I definitely don’t fancy a trip to Diagon in the aftermath of the announcement.”

Hermione had already been awake when Harry had woken up. She was hunched over her dressing table, scribbling rapidly on a notepad. He knew that she hadn’t slept well based on the amount of tossing and turning she’d done; he’d managed to get some sleep, but he hadn’t been immune to the constant jostles as she repositioned herself every other second. Sleeping next to someone wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Before he had chance to ask what she was doing, she announced that she was heading down to breakfast, leaving him alone in her room.

He threw off the blanket he was tangled in and, hesitantly moving across the room, he took a peek at the papers scattering the dressing table. She was planning. Her neat handwriting covered the paper, detailing different things they needed to do. He scanned the notes quickly, seeing mention of the Wizengamot, lessons, her grandmother, the Ministry of Magic, Gringotts and various other things. Yeah, she definitely hadn’t slept much. He sighed and made his way to his own bedroom to get a shower and change.

The shower in his ensuite was possibly one of his favourite things about staying at Grimmauld Place so far. Obviously not counting generally being free from his Aunt and Uncle, and having Sirius and Remus… No, he loved his shower. It was powerful and large, and the strength of the water hammering on his head almost felt like getting a massage. In the last couple of days, he’d enjoyed longer showers than he’d ever been able to take at the Dursleys, but this morning he was keen to get downstairs to check in on Hermione. He towelled off his hair and chucked on some clothes. He was in such a rush to get downstairs that he found himself precariously hopping at the same time as pulling on a sock as he exited his room, almost barrelling into Hermione in the process.

“Oh, I was just heading downstairs, are you coming?” He said, righting himself.

“No, I’ve just been down. Sirius and Remus have told me to go and have a bath to relax. I may have had a mini freak out downstairs…” She looked ashamed.

Harry could hear taps running from within Hermione’s room and the smell of lavender was filling the hallway.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I will be. Don’t worry. I’ll be down in a bit.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, of course.” She gave him a weak smile.

“Okay.” Harry wasn’t convinced but let his friend disappear into her room, closing the door behind her. He furrowed his brow at the closed door. He didn’t know how to help. Feeling a sense of dejection, he wandered his way downstairs to the kitchen, finding Sirius and Remus surrounded by piles of letters.

“Morning pup, how’d you sleep?”

“Yeah, alright. Better than Hermione anyway.”

“We gathered she hadn’t slept well… hopefully a bath will calm her down a bit.”

“I don’t know how to make things better for her,” he muttered.

“Just being there for her and being a support is enough. She might technically have different parents and she might technically be pureblood, but she’s still the same friend to you that she was yesterday morning. I think it’s probably a good idea if you don’t treat her any different.”

“Yeah, okay. What are all of these?” Harry pointed to the papers on the table as he took a seat.

“The announcement about your adoption was made in the Prophet this morning. That, combined with Sirius’ pardoning, the majority of these letters are from people wanting to meet with us to solidify family alliances. Letters of apology, congratulations and such. There’s a pile of letters addressed to you and Hermione over there as well.”

Harry reached across the table to where Sirius was pointing. One of the letters addressed to him was recognisably from Ron, but he didn’t recognise the handwriting on a number of the others. He wasn’t in the way of receiving many letters, so he was curious to see who else had contacted him.

He opened Ron’s letter first.

Hey Harry,

Just seen the announcement in the paper this morning! I can’t believe that Sirius has adopted you. That’s major news. How come you didn’t say anything at the Wizengamot the other day?

What’s going on with Hermione? What does the paper mean when it said she was the daughter of Regulus Black and Lysa Nott? Who are they? Nott as in Theodore Nott in our year? She has muggle parents, doesn’t she? No way is she a daughter of a Slytherin.

  Mum and Dad send their hellos. They’ve been a bit weird since the hearing. Mum says you should come over soon. Fred and George want to test out some new quidditch tactics. Does Sirius play quidditch?  

Write back.

Ron.

Harry put the letter down. He’d reply in a bit. Honestly, he didn’t feel like putting together answers to Ron’s barrage of questions just yet.

He opened a second letter.

Hi Harry,

How are you doing? I saw the news about the adoption and Gran told me that you were living with Lord Black now, so I figured that you’d be able to receive my letter. How are you dealing with it all?

It’s crazy news about Hermione. I’ve written to her as well. Do you know how she’s doing? I hope she’s okay. This must be really hard for her. Give her a hug if you see her before I do.

I think Gran is arranging a meeting between our Houses. It’ll be good to see you whenever that happens, I think she’s going to let me attend. I presume you’ll be able to see people a little bit more during the summer now you’re staying with Lord Black? You’re welcome around here whenever you want, but no pressure. Just drop me an owl if you fancy doing something.

All the best,

Neville

Harry smiled at Neville’s letter. He’d never received many letters from his other friends while he’d been staying with the Dursleys. Hermione and Ron wrote to him every so often, but he’d avoided getting into heavy back and forth correspondence with anyone else in order to reduce the number of owls coming to Privet Drive. Being able to write to people freely was going to make such a difference.

To Harry’s surprise there was also a letter from Hannah Abbott and one from Ernie Macmillan. Harry was particularly shocked that Ernie had written, given the events of second year. Although everyone knew now that Harry wasn’t, in fact, the Heir of Slytherin, and Ernie had apologised to him, they hadn’t exactly become friends. His classmate seemed polite enough in his letter though, suggesting that they meet at some point.

“Why are they all writing to me?” he asked out loud, “I understand Neville contacting me. But I hardly know Hannah and Ernie.”

“You’re Lord Potter now, Harry. Those kids are also the heirs to their houses. Networking starts young.”

“So, they’re just writing because I’m Lord Potter?” Harry frowned. Great. This felt no different to people just wanting to be his friend because he was the Boy Who Lived.

“Possibly. But there’s no harm in making new friends at the same time.”

“Give them a chance, Harry.” Remus added.

Harry pulled a piece of parchment towards himself and, leaving his letter to Ron for last, began drafting replies.

Chapter Text

When Kreacher had said that he was going to fill her bath with bubbles, he really meant it. By the time Hermione reached her bathroom the bath was full, and a mound of iridescent bubbles was threatening to spill over the top. The room was full of steam and the heady scent of lavender was overwhelming in the enclosed space. She quickly got undressed and into the tub, careful not to rock the water too much at risk of it spilling over. Whatever Kreacher had put in the bath began to work immediately and she could sense the tightness in her shoulders beginning to dissipate as she leant back against the porcelain. She’d been put out when Sirius essentially tried to send her back to bed, but right now, she couldn’t be angry with him. This is exactly what I needed.

Although her body had begun to relax, the heat of the bath and the feeling of weightlessness she was experiencing in the water wasn’t doing enough to distract her from her thoughts, so she tried focussing her attention on different areas of the bathroom. She began taking in the décor and the different trinkets and lotions that Narcissa had left scattered about. The lower half of the walls were covered in large, evergreen coloured, rectangular tiles. The darkness of the green contrasted with the upper half of the wall, which had been wallpapered with a pattern of light pink flowers and green foliage. Hermione would have considered the wallpaper garish had she seen it on its own, but in the context of the room she liked it, the lighter shades lifting the heaviness of the tiles below. The lighting fixtures on the walls were made of ornate gold with frosted glass shades, diffusing the light across the room and lending a gentle glow to the space. It meant that the room felt intimate and warm; perfect for relaxing. There was a heated gold towel rail to the side of the bath, holding numerous, differently sized, fluffy, forest green, paisley patterned towels. As she looked around the room, she wondered how Narcissa had managed to put it all together so quickly. Not just the bathroom, but Harry and her bedrooms as well. They both fit their personalities perfectly. Hermione couldn’t have begun to imagine putting the different elements together with any confidence that they would work.

She wasn’t sure how long she ended up spending in the water, but after what felt like an inappropriate length of time for a guest to hole up in their room, she dragged herself out of the bath and wrapped herself in a large bath sheet. She’d only briefly looked through the clothes that Sirius had packed for her the night before, so deciding what to wear became an interesting experience. Sorting through the items of clothing in her trunk, she couldn’t help but laugh to herself as she realised that he’d essentially dug out any top she owned that bore any kind of band logo. He’d also thrown in a couple of pairs of jeans, two dresses and a cardigan. Nothing particularly went together, but she figured it would do for now until she knew just how long she was staying - however long that would be.

Nope, not thinking about that right now. She pushed the thought to the back of her head.

In the end, she decided on a black sundress, grabbing the grey button up cardigan to go over the top. She didn’t bother with much makeup, not trusting herself not to cry again at some point in the day and muck it all up.

When she got back down to the kitchen, she found that all of the letters that had been covering the table previously had been tidied away, barring a small pile. Sirius was stood at one end of the long wooden table using his wand to fire a scrunched-up ball of paper across the room and Harry was stood at the far end of the kitchen making attempts to catch it. Remus was stood to the side, leaning against the kitchen counter watching the pair.

“What’s going on?” Hermione made her way to stand next to him.

“Sirius is testing Harry’s quidditch reflexes. He used to do this with James in the common room.”

“Harry is a damn sight better than James though.” Sirius shouted. “Half the time he’d fumble the catch and ended up falling on someone.” He let out a whooping cheer as Harry leapt onto the bench to successfully reach a shot that Sirius had sent wide.

“Yeah, he’d normally end up sprawled over Lily. To be honest, looking back, I’m sure it was all a ploy to end up in her lap.” Remus chuckled. “Do you want anything to eat Hermione?”

“Um, I’m not particularly hungry. Just a coffee?”

“Okay. You’re taking a pepper-up too.” She made to interject but Remus stopped her with a look, “You haven’t slept Hermione. You can’t function on caffeine and bubble baths alone.”

She shrugged.

“And, you’ll make up for it by having a decent lunch?” He raised an eyebrow at her. It wasn’t really a question.

Hermione conceded and accepted the mug and small vial of potion he handed her.

“So… what’s the plan today?”

Harry took that moment to barrel himself into the end of the table and down onto the floor.

“I’m okay!” he said from the ground, waving his hand above the edge of the table; he was clutching the ball of paper. Hermione sighed and shook her head at the ridiculous boy.

“Maybe we should put a pause on the game, Sirius.” Remus groaned, “I don’t think a trip to St Mungo’s one day after adopting Harry would be great for your image.”

“Yes, yes, Professor Lupin.” Sirius threw him a wink.

Remus turned back to Hermione, “We were thinking of heading into London to do some shopping. I think we could all do with getting out of the house and having a bit of a distraction.”

“But don’t we need…”

“I know you want to get started on everything kitten, but let’s just take a day. Regroup a bit.”

Sirius helped to lift Harry from the floor and flung his arm casually around the boy’s shoulders.

“Lucius will be coming around later this afternoon with Narcissa and Andromeda. I have some stuff to discuss with them privately, and then you can have the opportunity to ask some more questions and decide what you want to do next.”

Hermione nodded. She guessed he was right; they probably couldn’t really make much progress that morning. They needed to make appointments and send letters.

“I guess. I don’t really fancy Diagon Alley though.”

The thought of heading into the wizarding shopping mecca knowing that everyone knew who she was now turned her stomach. She wasn’t sure what the reaction from the public would be. Regulus was a death eater (reformed or not) and Lysa was the daughter of a notorious and dark family of Voldemort supporters; that wouldn’t go down well with a lot of people. Harry gave her a small smile and she realised that he probably had the best idea of how she was feeling. She hadn’t truly appreciated how irritating it must be for him going out in Diagon.

“Yeah, I don’t love the idea of Diagon today either.” Harry backed her up.

“No worries. We were thinking muggle London anyway. Harry you mentioned wanting some new clothes?”

“Oh yeah. If it’s not a problem?” Harry was perched on the table looking uncomfortable.

“No problem at all pup. I’m a master at clothes shopping! Although, saying that, I doubt many of the stores I used to go to still exist,” he pouted.

“I’m sure you’ll manage Pads.” Remus moved to pat his partner’s arm in mock consolation.

Sirius clapped his hands together, “Right, you two get your jackets and whatever you want to take out with you.”

“Bring your wands.” Remus added, “We’re going to make it a family rule that, going forward, no one leaves the house without them.”

“Even when we go to muggle places?” Harry was pulling his from his back pocket.

“You,” Remus pointed at Harry, “are the Boy Who Lived. That comes with side effects. Some adoring fans, some not so adoring fans. And I’m afraid, Hermione, we don’t know just yet how people are going to react to your new position in the House of Black. Muggle London or not, better to be safe than sorry.”

“You think someone would attack me?” She whispered. A trip out of the house suddenly sounded extremely unappealing.

“No, I don’t. But having your wand on you is just good practice. I’d like to arrange for you to have some wand holsters made up as well.” He levelled a stare at Harry, “The fact that you just pulled your wand out of your back pocket is concerning me Harry.” Remus looked exasperated and Harry had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Hermione, you should let Theo know that we’ll be out until later if he still plans on coming around.” Sirius reminded her.

She nodded and grabbed a piece of paper from the table to write a quick letter.

“Harry, can I borrow Hedwig?”

“Sure.” Harry was tossing the screwed-up ball of paper between his hands nervously. “Um… tell him I say hi.”

She added a ‘hello’ from Harry to the end of her letter and rolled it up ready to attach to Hedwig upstairs.

“Okay, meet us back downstairs in ten minutes.” Sirius gave Hermione a squeeze as she made to leave the kitchen and lowered his voice to speak to her, “Remus is just being overly protective. Don’t worry.”

She appreciated the sentiment, but it still filled her with dread. Regardless, she followed Harry out of the room.

The group exited the house into the heat of the summer sun. Looking around at the congregation of people in front of him, Harry suddenly became very self-conscious and aware of how uncool he looked stood next to the others. Sirius was wearing his standard uniform of tight denim jeans, thick soled Dr Martins, band t-shirt (this time Black Sabbath) and leather jacket. Hermione was wearing a black strappy sundress, a grey cardigan and biker boots. She had her leather jacket flung over her arm. Remus had on a dark red, long sleeve top, black jeans and a pale blue denim jacket. They all looked like they fit together, each confident in what they were wearing. Harry had never felt like that before in his life, and in his Dudley-cast-off grey t-shirt and jeans that were faded, but not in an intentional way, he felt like the odd one out.

Hermione seemed to notice him staring and linked her arm with his as they set off down the street. Sirius had declared before they left the house that they were ‘doing everything muggle’ today. He wanted to see how much things had changed in the time that he’d been imprisoned and Remus didn’t seem to have the heart to argue with him, even if it meant that they were about to embark on a trip into London, in sweltering heat, in the first week of the summer holidays. Harry hadn’t been to London properly before, but even he knew that it was going to be carnage. Sirius hailed a taxi at the end of the road and they all piled in.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked once they were all settled in the back of the taxi.

“Harrods; the one-stop-shop to get you suited and booted. We’ll deal with all your regular stuff there before I hunt out some of my old haunts.”

The taxi dropped them off in front of an impressive stone building bearing the Harrods signage and they made their way into the main entrance. Harry took in the interior of the store; it was glossy and polished within an inch of its life, and Harry’s sense of feeling out of place was compounded as he looked around at the clientele around him. The people shopping seemed to fit the bill of tourist, or extremely wealthy. He didn’t have much time to dwell in his thoughts as Remus quickly located a staff member who pointed them towards the men’s department. Once on the correct floor, Sirius became a completely different person, adopting the persona of ‘Lord Black’. He approached the main desk and requested information on who handled the Black account.

The woman at the desk in front of them very blatantly didn’t appear to believe that Sirius was someone who would hold a standing account with them. Her face was pointed, and her lips were pursed in a way that reminded Harry of his Aunt Petunia. Harry could understand her reticence. Sirius didn’t exactly look like someone who exuded wealth. Regardless, the man simply continued to stare the woman down until she reluctantly approached a filing cabinet and began sifting through a number of documents. Finding what she was looking for, she opened a folder and it very quickly began to dawn on her that this wasn’t a family you ignored.

“I do apologise Mr Black, I’m afraid that the last assistant we have listed for you appears to have left the firm a number of years ago.”

She looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights, unsure what to do next.

“Well, we’ll be needing a new assistant. My son here needs a new wardrobe.” He placed an arm around Harry.

“Of course, Mr Black, my apologies again. I’ll arrange for someone to come by this second.”

She disappeared onto the shop floor, leaving the group congregated at her desk before returning with another shop assistant. The new woman took a quick look at the folder presented to her, eyes widening slightly, before turning her attention to the group.

“Good day Mr Black, my name is Summer. How may I help?”

She was young, no older than 30 and, although kitted out in the Harrod’s uniform, she appeared to have managed to inject some of her personality into her appearance. Her hair was slicked back into a leopard print claw clip and Harry could see that the ends were slightly tinted red. Sirius appeared to take in the woman in front of him, assessing she was okay, before proceeding.

“Lovely to meet you Summer, please call me Sirius. My son needs a new wardrobe. Predominantly just the basics; he’s grown so much over the last year. We’d like some assistance getting him sorted.”

“Of course, please follow me.” She turned to Harry with a wide grin as she began leading them through the department, “What kind of style do you normally opt for? Are we thinking casual or formal attire?”

Harry looked to Sirius, unsure what to answer, until Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

“Um, casual mainly, I guess. Just normal stuff.”

“Okay. What current fashions do you like? Who’s your style inspiration?”

The questions continued in the same vein as Summer weaved her way around the shop floor. She was bright and bubbly and didn’t seem phased by Harry’s struggle to answer her questions. Harry had never really given much thought as to how he wanted to dress and, suddenly being presented with a plethora of options, he felt like he was on the back foot. After much trial and error, and a lot of prompting from Hermione, he found that he generally just liked to be comfy. Was that even a style? He opted for baggier fit jeans, paired with t-shirts with open flannel shirts on top. He selected a number of jumpers and some sweatshirts; the standard fit being oversized. Sirius also convinced him to invest in some shorts ‘for the summer’. He appreciated that the current muggle fashion generally detracted from how weedy he felt, the excess fabric hiding a multitude of his Aunt and Uncle’s wrongdoings. The main items of clothing purchased, Harry was mortified when Summer led him into the underwear section, and was grateful when Hermione excused herself, looking equally awkward. Sirius had really meant it when he said that Harry was going to get a full new wardrobe. By the time they were finished Harry had everything from pyjamas, to swimming trunks.

Harry was sure he actually felt the blood drain out of his face when he heard Summer tally up the costs of the shop. They’d only been in one store and he couldn’t believe the money that Sirius was willingly handing over. Hermione seemed to be distracted and enjoying herself; she took his hand in hers as they descended the escalator.

“You know he’s like a multi-millionaire?” She said lightly.

“Huh?”  

“Sirius. I saw your face when she priced it all up.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to spend all his money.”

Hermione sighed, taking a small jump off the escalator as it met the ground floor.

“I imagine, in the seconds we’ve been talking, he’s made the money back just through interest.”

Harry didn’t know what to think about that, pausing where he’d left the moving staircase. Hermione walked away from him towards the exit and Remus followed behind her.

“She’s right you know.”

Harry jumped as Sirius reached his side, placing his hand on his shoulder.

“Stop worrying pup. Between your parent’s vaults and mine, you’re set. This is nothing.”

“I’m not used to it.”

“I know,” Sirius looked pained, “but I don’t want you to feel like are stuck for anything ever again.”

“It’s far too much stuff though.” Harry tried to protest.

“Just, I dunno… just see this as a reset. Now that we’ve got you the majority of your stuff, we won’t ever have to do a shop of this size again. This is a one off. From now on, we’ll just top up as we go. This was always going to be slightly bigger than a usual shopping trip. But honestly Harry, you don’t need to worry about buying stuff.”

“Okay.” Harry didn’t feel convinced.

“I mean. Regular stuff only. I’m not authorising outrageous purchases on a whim…” Sirius was over-correcting. “Maybe I should set a price limit?” His face settled into a frown and Harry laughed.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I don’t think I’ll ever feel comfortable spending that kind of money.”

“You say that now but wait until the Firebolt X comes out.” 

“What’s the Firebolt X?!” Harry didn’t mean for his question to come out so loud and Sirius let out his barking laugh as they made their way to the exit.

“Exactly. Come on. Out of the store. We’re not finished yet.”

He wasn’t lying. Once they were all gathered on the pavement, Remus relieved Harry of his shopping bags, disappearing for a few minutes to deposit them back at Grimmauld before joining them again. They made their way to the underground, ready to embark on the next stage of their shopping trip. Harry quickly found himself battling through crowds of people to keep up with wherever Sirius was leading them. He didn’t think he’d ever been around so many people all in one place and he found it incredibly overwhelming. Hermione, however, was taking it in her stride, holding his hand and pulling him through the masses. Once on the tube Harry managed to take a seat next to Hermione. Remus and Sirius stood, leaning against the wall of the carriage.

“I knew it’d be busy, but not quite that busy.” Harry confessed, willing his heart to stop pounding as he dragged his hand through his hair. It was hot, and he could already feel sweat beginning to collect at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah, it’s not fun. But don’t worry, it’s only a few more stops until we’re at Camden. It’ll be busy there, but once we’re back out in the open it won’t be as mental as being underground with this amount of people.” She gave his hand a squeeze. He loved that he didn’t need to spell out how he was feeling with Hermione, she just tended to ‘get it’ and wouldn’t make it a big deal.

“Sirius looks happy though.” Harry nodded in the man’s direction and Hermione laughed.

Sirius had his arm stretched up, holding onto one of the looped braces attached to the carriage ceiling, swinging precariously backwards and forwards as he joked with Remus. Remus was smiling back, taking in the man in front of him with hungry eyes. It should have made Harry feel awkward, watching his guardians interact so intimately, but instead he just found himself feeling overcome with happiness. What Harry couldn’t avoid noticing however, was the number of women in the carriage taking in the couple with curious and eager glances. For a moment, Harry was shocked to find that, for every woman looking at Sirius, there was one also looking at Remus, until he truly took in his ex-professor in front of him. Sirius wore everything on his sleeve and was a blatant exhibitionist and a flirt, whereas Remus had a completely different vibe. He gave off a quiet, cool energy. Taller than Sirius, but with broad shoulders and a calm demeanour, the scars on his face slightly glinting in different lights, he looked broody and mysterious in contrast to Sirius’ more obvious bad boy look.

“Right, Pup, Kitten! This is us.” Sirius shouted across the carriage and Harry and Hermione rose from their seats, swaying with the motion of the train to reach their godparents. As they made their way to the two men, Harry swore he heard one woman audibly sigh in reaction to Sirius’ use of their nicknames and Hermione struggled to stifle a laugh.

“Has it always been like this?” Hermione giggled.

“Like what?” Remus asked. He seemed genuine and Harry looked at Hermione not knowing what to say.

“You two!? Getting eyeballed to death by women!” She had a wide grin on her face.

Sirius let out a howl of laughter, chucking his head back. Remus looked confused.

“Sirius has always turned heads. The man can’t help but be the centre of attention in a room, even without trying.” He blushed slightly as he looked at his partner.

“We were talking about you as well, Remus. Half the women in this carriage have been looking you up and down!” Harry jerked his head slightly in the direction of a middle-aged woman who had definitely been watching Remus. Remus briefly looked in the direction indicated, locked eyes with the woman, and promptly turned away shaking his head in embarrassment. 

“They aren’t wrong Moony. You’re a fucking catch, always have been. You just never took advantage of it in school. I must say though, it’s refreshing to know that we’ve still got it. Hey! We’ve grown attractive in our old age!”

“Pfft. You aren’t old.” Hermione laughed.

The tannoy announced that they were arriving into Camden and the train began to come to a halt. Harry and Hermione were lurched forward at the sudden reduction in momentum and Sirius and Remus had to grab them in order to prevent the two teenagers from ending up sprawled on the carriage floor.

Exiting the tube station, Harry was extremely grateful to be above ground again and back in the fresh air. The street was buzzing. Looking around Harry didn’t even know where to begin, there were so many shops, but Sirius seemed to have made a decision, leading them down the busy street and past various market stalls before they turned into a back alley.

“It’s still here Moony!” Sirius was giddy with excitement. Harry wasn’t quite sure why. The alley was dingy and didn’t appear to hold any form of establishment. Walking past a dumpster and a group of smokers, Sirius pushed open a heavy, rusted and heavily graffitied metal door.

The shop they entered was cramped with floor to ceiling racks of clothing and shelves containing various hats, shoes and old tech. Buckets were full of odd pieces of fabric and there were boxes upon boxes of vinyls scattered around the floor. The ceilings were low and there was a potent smell of must despite the number of incense sticks omitting smoke around the room. Harry could hardly hear himself think over the heavy metal music playing from speakers in the ceiling.

“Welcome to the Dino-Saw Market pups! The best place in town to pick up retro clothing and well, anything!” Sirius shouted over the music. He was over the moon, looking adoringly around the space.  

Hermione had already drifted away and was flicking through a rack of dresses. Some looked Victorian in style, others looked like they’d be perfect for an ABBA tribute act. Harry didn’t know where to start.

“I haven’t been back here since before…” Remus was still stood near the door. Sirius took his hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed his knuckles before pulling him further into the bazaar.

“I wonder if Noel still works here?” He heard Sirius wonder out loud as the two men disappeared among the racks of clothes.

Harry didn’t really think that he needed anything else clothing-wise following his trip to Harrods, Sirius had already bought him more than enough, but he couldn’t resist the curiosity of sifting through some of the pieces. He found himself drawn to a rail holding a variety of different leather jackets. He’d been jealous of Sirius and Hermione’s jackets and wondered if maybe he could get something similar here. The collection was… eclectic to say the least. He spied one that looked to be an original world war two aviator jacket, complete with sheepskin collar, another was black with fringing along the arms, and a third had metal studs adorning the back.

“Find anything?” Hermione appeared behind him, she was holding a black t-shirt with the word ‘BAD in capitals across the front and the italicised name ‘Andy Warhol’.

“Nothing so far. I kind of fancied a leather jacket or something.” He felt embarrassed, not wanting to come across as just imitating his guardian or friend.

“Oo yeah, good idea!” Hermione began rummaging around, pulling out various hangers and positioning them in front of Harry’s chest. After dismissing a couple, she pulled out a dark brown bomber style leather jacket.

“What about this one?” She handed it to him. He tugged it from the hanger and tried it on. It was slightly too large for him, but he didn’t find that he minded that. At least he could grow into it. Hermione dragged him to a warped, standing mirror around the corner so that he could get a better idea of how it looked.

He loved it. The brown leather looked worn but not shabby and the bomber style fit his lanky physique.

“It suits you.”

He looked at the image of Hermione and himself reflected in the mirror and saw that she was beaming. He put an arm around her and they both stood looking at themselves in the mirror for a second. Even though he was still wearing his Dudley cast-offs, just by putting on the jacket, he felt more like ‘himself’ than he ever had done before.

“Yeah.” He finally announced, nodding to himself, “I think I want this one.”

“PUPS!” Sirius yelled from somewhere deeper in the shop. “Come meet Noel!”

Harry pulled the jacket off, ready to take it to show Sirius.

Hermione grabbed the top she’d found from where she’d placed it on top of a bowler hat, before pulling Harry away from the mirror. This was an odd shop.

“Marco!” Hermione shouted.

“Polo!” Remus returned.

They worked their way through more clothing rails, passing what appeared to be a collection of full 19^thcentury military regalia in the process. Very odd shop. They didn’t seem to be getting any closer to where their guardians had disappeared to.

“Marco?!” Harry called this time.

“Polo!” Sirius replied, he sounded nearer than before.

They found Remus and Sirius leaning against a countertop, grinning as the teenagers emerged from among the racks.

“Here they are! Harry, Hermione, meet Noel, the owner of this fabulous establishment. We go way back.” Sirius indicated to a heavily tattooed man behind the counter. He looked to be in his late 50s, his hair was greying and was as long as Sirius’ but without the curls and he was wearing what had apparently once been a t-shirt but now resembled more of a vest, the sleeves torn at the shoulders. He also appeared to be wearing leather trousers. Harry would have found him intimidating if it hadn’t been for the enthusiastic introduction Sirius had given and the broad smile the man was wearing.

“Hey kids,” he gave them a wave before turning back to Sirius and Remus. “I can’t believe you two are being trusted to look after teenagers.”

“Quite honestly, neither can we.” Remus joked with a sigh, but his gaze on Hermione was one full of pride. 

“Where’ve you been anyway Pads? You used to be in here every week and then you just disappeared.”

“Imprisoned for a crime I didn’t commit.” Sirius deadpanned with a shrug, as if it was nothing, an everyday occurrence.

“No shit! Fucking establishment fuckers.”

“Too right. You’ll be sick of me soon enough now that I’m back in town.”

“You guys were always some of my favourite customers.” Noel smiled. “You two find anything good?” He indicated to the items in Harry and Hermione’s hands.

“Um, yeah, just this top for now.” Hermione replied, placing the fabric on the counter. Noel picked it up and examined it.

“Let me guess, Blondie fan?”

“Yeah!” Hermione answered. Harry didn’t follow; just another part of popular culture knew nothing about.

“What have you got there Harry?” Remus asked.

“Oh, I thought maybe I’d get a jacket. Hermione found this one.” He swung his arms into the sleeves, jumping a couple of times to get the fit right.

“Hey! He looks like your mate!” Noel exclaimed.

Harry looked up. Sirius and Remus were staring down at him; they both looked like they’d seen a ghost.

“What was your friend called? The one who was always pining after that chick.”

“Prongs.” Sirius murmured.

“That’s the one!”

Hermione was watching the interaction with wary eyes. Sirius looked almost ready to bolt. Harry began to feel uncomfortable under their gaze until Remus managed to shake himself out of the past.

“You look brilliant Harry. Perfect fit I’d say.” His face was smiling but it didn’t reach his eyes. He prodded Sirius in the back.

“Yeah, great find Harry. Um, what do we owe you Noel?”

Noel looked unsure as to what had just happened, but quickly fell back into his animated character.

“Nothing. Call it my way of compensating you for paying tax to a government that fucked you over and threw you in jail.”

“We can’t accept that.”

“Hey, no arguments. You guys probably bank rolled me through the late 70s. This is small fry.”

Sirius held out his hand to the man, Noel took it willingly and they gave each other a one-handed hug over the counter, slapping each other’s backs.

“It’s good to have you back Pads. You keep him out of trouble, Moony.”

“I’ll try.” Remus shook his hand.

“See you, kids!” He handed Hermione a striped plastic bag with her t-shirt in and sent them off with a wave. Harry left his jacket on as they exited the shop, ushered by Sirius and Remus.

Back outside, the group stood in an uncomfortable silence for a moment as they all acclimatised to the sunlight and fresh air. Sirius and Remus appeared to be having a silent conversation with their eyes, Remus had his arm around his partner, rubbing small circles into his bicep with his thumb.

Harry felt like turning around and taking the jacket back; he didn’t want it to act as a constant reminder of his Dad each time he wore it, but before he could make the decision, Hermione began talking.

“Shall we get lunch and then head home?” She suggested.

“Great idea kitten.” Sirius was snapped out of his memories. “McDonalds? We can take it home with us. Sound good Harry?”

Sirius was grinning at him again, as if the last ten minutes hadn’t happened. It felt like whiplash.

“You know, just because you haven’t had fast food for 13 years doesn’t mean you have to make up for it all in one week?” Remus chuckled, placing a kiss on Sirius’ jawline.

“I can try though?” Sirius barked out a laugh, “Let’s go. There’s a quarter-pounder out there with my name on it.”

Chapter Text

Back at Grimmauld Place, paper bags full of burgers and fries in hand, Hermione and Harry settled onto the sofas in the drawing room to tuck into their lunch. Hermione still didn’t feel much like eating, but Remus had cajoled her into ordering chicken nuggets and chips. She figured she could at least pick at those in her own time. Kreacher appeared shortly after they had all arrived, doling out napkins and muttering to himself about grease and the need to open windows to eradicate the smell of ‘stinking muggle food’. The group tried to ignore him as they began eating but, in the end, Kreacher twisted so much about their decision to eat in the drawing room that Sirius gave in and suggested that they eat on the patio instead. He led them through the sunroom and out into the back garden.

Hermione found that she was coming around to the grumpy elf; it was hard not to when he continued to look at her like she was made out of stardust whenever he was in her presence. Harry, on the other hand, didn’t seem too taken with him. Despite the elf’s allegiance to the House of Black, he was still apparently having issues getting used to the presence of a new master. The goodwill he had towards Hermione because of her connection to Regulus didn’t appear to apply to Sirius. When Harry had raised his concerns, mainly out of guilt for how the elf seemed to be feeling, Sirius had simply said that it would take time.

The elf placated, they sat at the black wrought iron garden furniture set on the patio. The back garden was ridiculously overgrown. From their position on the raised balcony they were looking down on the main expanse of lawn. Lawn, field, hay meadow? Hermione wasn’t sure what you’d use to describe it, but she was sure the grass would reach her waist. A set of stone stairs led down into the main body of the garden. The garden itself was predominantly grass, with a border of mainly dead plants, and surrounded by grey brick walls, tall and imposing. The walls were adorned with trellises of, now untamed, climbing roses, dark red pops of colour peeking out among the foliage and contrasting against the brickwork. Towards the end of the garden was a heavily wooded area and Hermione could just make out a barn like structure and Buckbeak lazing underneath a canopy of fir trees.

As they all tucked into their food, no one mentioned the awkward moment in the Dino-Saw Market or Harry’s jacket. He had removed the item of clothing as soon as he had entered the house and Hermione sincerely hoped that Sirius and Remus’ reaction wasn’t going to stop him from wearing it in the future. She had got the impression that it was the first piece of clothing he had found and bought because he genuinely wanted it, and she didn’t want that to be taken away from him. If anything, the fact that it clearly reminded Sirius and Remus of James was a reason for Harry to cherish it more.

“Narcissa and Lucius will be round in a bit, but I think before then we probably need to go investigate some of the things we found out yesterday.” Sirius announced, rubbing his hands together aggressively to eradicate the build-up of salt on his fingers from the chips he’d been shovelling in his mouth.

“Which things?” Harry asked, taking a final bite of his cheeseburger.

“Well, for one. Your suppressed magic. Have you cast any spells since yesterday morning?”

“Um… just to turn off the light last night.” Harry thought back. Hermione couldn’t remember him using his wand apart from that and nodded in agreeance.

“Okay, well, how about we start off with something simple. Maybe just cast a lumos spell to start with? I want you to focus on how it feels as you do it.” Sirius had stood and was leaning against the stone balustrade as if he was presenting a class.

Hermione watched Harry grab his wand from the patio table. He looked around, incredulous at being asked to cast what was essentially a first-year spell.

“Lumos.”

Hermione was glad that she’d been focussed on Harry’s face and not his wand; even in broad daylight and without looking directly at it, the light emitted from the wand tip was blinding. Harry quickly stopped the spell.

“Woh. That was intense.” Hermione was surprised to hear that he sounded scared.

“What did you feel?” Remus asked.

“I dunno, it was kind of tingly, I guess? Almost like I could feel something moving through my arm?” Harry sounded unsure. Hermione was intrigued.

“That’s good Harry. I want you to do it again, but this time, really follow that feeling and lock into it. You should be able to control the brightness of the light once you’re in tune with the magic.” Sirius encouraged.

Harry didn’t seem convinced but tried again. The light produced from his wand started off as bright as it had the first time, and Hermione placed her hand in front of her face in order to shield her eyes.

“Brilliant Harry, now focus on the flow of magic and direct it into your wand arm. Try not to think about anything else.”

Hermione peered through her fingers and saw Harry nodding, his face scrunched up in concentration.

“Good, now, think about how bright you want the light to be.”

Harry nodded again, face set. Slowly, and in very gradual increments, the brightness of the light began to decrease, until Hermione could happily remove her hand from her face and look directly at Harry again.

“Wonderful! How did that feel?” Remus was beaming as Harry lowered his wand.

“Um, yeah, really good. Just casting the spell in the first place felt easier, I hardly needed to think about it, but I didn’t realise that I could have that level of control within the spell. I just thought it was an on or off situation.”

Sirius was frowning.

“Our magical cores are where we pull the magic from. We use wands to focus the magic, but it’s us who create it and wield it. Once you get to your sixth year, I imagine you’ll be taught to do wordless magic and, beyond that, some people train to use magic wandlessly. It’s not so much about the wand, although it’s important to have a wand that matches your core, it’s about us, the intent and our control of the magic.” Remus elaborated.

“So, it’ll feel like that for all spells?” Harry looked amazed.

“Yes, it may take some getting used to but from now on, when you cast anything, I want you to really focus on what you want out of the spell. It’ll make it so much more effective and give you more control.”

Hermione was listening in fascination. She’d read the theory of spell casting, or at least as much as she could from the books available in the Hogwarts library, but it had never been put across like that. Maybe the books just assumed that people had a grasp on the basics? Was this basic?  

“Can I have a go? Last night when I used my wand it felt different to normal…” she directed her question at Remus.

Sirius and Remus glanced at one another. Apparently, it hadn’t dawned on them that there was a chance her magic might have been suppressed just liked Harry’s. The chaos of the adoption proceedings hadn’t allowed them time to consider the thought.

“Sure thing kitten. Try lumos like Harry.” Sirius made to sit on the bench next to Remus. Hermione reached for her wand from the leather jacket pocket on the back of her chair.

She cast the spell and, just like Harry, she was faced with a barrage of blinding light, brighter than any lumos she’d cast before. Her chest felt warm and all down her right arm she had an awareness of ‘something’. She couldn’t place it, but there was something indescribable there.

“Remember what we told Harry. Lock into the feeling and direct your intentions for the spell,” she heard Remus say.

She closed her eyes, finding it easier to focus that way while her wand was omitting such a bright light. She followed the sensation in her arm, a pulsing force that ended where her fingers met her wand, and she made a conscious effort to will the light to be dimmer. She didn’t open her eyes until she heard Sirius’ voice congratulating her.

“How was that?” He asked.

“Mental.” She looked at Harry, who seemed equally as dumbfounded as her.

“Is that how it’s meant to be all the time?” Harry asked.

Remus looked sheepish. Sirius looked pissed off.

“Yeah. You are both clearly extremely competent as it is, so no one has ever second guessed your skills, but yes, that is how it is meant to feel.” Remus answered on Sirius’ behalf.

“I’ve heard you and Professor McGonagall saying that we should focus on ‘controlling’ the spell before, but I didn’t realise that’s what you meant.” She was running through various lessons in her head and seeing them in a whole new light. Harry was nodding in agreeance.

“Okay, that’s it, I’ve decided that across the summer you’re going to have lessons. Remus can deliver them. Your magic might feel more volatile for a while as you get accustomed to it. I want you both to feel completely comfortable in your magic now you have full access to it.”

Hermione perked up at the idea, in contrast to Harry’s reaction.

“Lessons?!”

“When did you decide this?” Remus quirked an eyebrow in Sirius’ direction.

“Just now.”

Sirius began to pace across the stone patio again, his hands clasped behind is back.

“Yes, lessons. And I’m also going to set up tutoring to give both you and Hermione a working knowledge of the Wizengamot. Harry, you’re Head of your house now. I know you don’t know much about what that means, and honestly, while you’re in school and once you’ve appointed a proxy it will continue not to mean too much in the immediate future, but you need a background to how this world works. Hell, I’ve been absent for so long, I’ll probably need to sit in.” He chuckled slightly before continuing. His authoritative attitude was in complete juxtaposition to how he was dressed.

“I also want you both to take some etiquette lessons.”

Hermione suppressed a grin as she noticed Remus scoff at the announcement. He covered it by coughing into his paper napkin and beginning to faff with the McDonalds rubbish littering the table.

“You are part of the House of Black. I know I’m not a ringing endorsement for pureblood living, but there will be expectations placed upon us now that the House of Black is back in society, and I want to meet them. It’ll help us in the long run. People don’t tend to care about what you wear as long as you greet them with the proper handshake and use the correct fork.”

“Sirius…” Remus tried to rein in his partner who appeared on a roll now; he kept taking a couple of steps forward before swinging around and walking back in the other direction.

“And both of you need to work on the godparent bond. You should be able to use it to call to us.”

“Call to you?” Harry was confused.

“Yes, I imagine you already feel it slightly, I know I’m a lot more in tune with your emotions. But we can develop that so you can send us more than just emotions.”

“Like telepathy?!” Hermione twigged what he was saying, absolutely in awe.

“Yeah, something like that.” Remus gave her a warm smile.

“Magic is mental…” Harry muttered, looking at his godfather in amazement.

“That it is pup.”

Hermione noticed that Harry had begun tracing the floral pattern of the ironwork table with his finger.

“Um, Sirius?”

“Yeah?”

“Do I have other godparents?”

“What, am I not good enough for you?” Sirius laughed weakly.

“Of course you are! It’s just, Hermione has three…”

Sirius didn’t respond immediately and the sound of leaves bristling in the breeze became overwhelming loud as Harry waited for his godfather to answer.

“You had three as well.”

Both Hermione and Harry flinched at his use of the word ‘had’. 

“Your other godparents were Alice Longbottom, your friend Neville’s mum, and Mary McDonald. Lily’s friends. I mentioned them the other day.”

“What happened to them?”

Sirius looked to Remus whose face had grown pale.

“Alice and her husband Frank were tortured by my…” Sirius stilled, “… by deatheaters. As I understand it, they are permanent residents of the Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungo’s.” He was still looking at Remus; the man simply hung his head in confirmation. “And Mary was killed in a raid not long after you were born.”

“Oh.” Harry’s eyes widened in shock and he turned to Hermione who was struggling to prevent tears from welling up in her eyes. She felt terrible. Outside of Harry and Ron, Neville was one of her closest friends and he’d never said anything about his parents. She knew that he lived with his Grandmother, but she hadn’t pushed the topic.

“We didn’t know about Neville’s parents.” She said quietly.

“I see.” Sirius looked guilty at being the one to have told the two teenagers.

“You should know then that we’ll be meeting with Augusta Longbottom at some point in the next week and there is a chance Neville will be with her.” Remus said in a hushed tone. “I know that you might want discuss what we’ve just told you with him, but, having taught him this year, I think he’d appreciate not being treat any differently.”

“Okay.”

“Sure.”

Hermione looked at Harry, he seemed deep in thought and both Remus and Sirius seemed to have noticed.

“You weren’t to know Harry.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s just… I didn’t realise. I’ve spent so long being the ‘Boy Who Lived’, the boy whose parents died, I didn’t stop to think that there are probably so many other people in the same boat. I get all this special treatment but Neville… he’s in my dorm.”

“The war took a lot from a lot of families, on both sides of the fight. You’re still relatively new to the wizarding world, Harry, and your Aunt and Uncle made sure that you weren’t given much information apart from what you found out at school. It’s understandable that there’s stuff you don’t know.” Remus gave him a sad smile.

“That’s why lessons about the Wizengamot and the other houses will be useful. Don’t dwell on it too much Harry.”

Kreacher appeared to Sirius’ side and announced that Lord Malfoy, Missy Cissa and Missy Meda had arrived, and Sirius and Remus made to leave. Hermione wanted desperately to follow; she knew they’d be discussing her and she wanted to be part of it.

“We’ve got some Wizengamot business to discuss first kitten, then I’ll give you and Harry a shout and you can join us. Yeah?”

“Relax for a bit you guys. Enjoy the sunshine. It’s the summer holidays after all.” Remus placed a hand on her shoulder as he followed after Sirius.

She sat in silence with Harry for a moment. It was a gorgeous day, and she couldn’t hear much beyond the walls of the garden apart from the singing of birds. She took a moment to enjoy the sun as Remus had directed, the rays of golden warmth on her skin were calming in the moment.

“I can’t believe we didn’t know about Neville.” Harry finally spoke.

“Yeah…”

“It’s going to sound like I’m just saying this because of what Sirius told us, but I really want to try and be a better friend to him this year.  I’d already decided that the other day.”

“I think he’d like that.”

“You and Ron are great, but I guess, even just seeing that you became friends with Theo, I’ve realised that I haven’t actually tried much, you know? … Mum and Dad had such a big group of friends.”

“You can easily have that. I’m sorry if me and Ron have monopolised your time.” It was true that they tended to stick together as a trio.

“You haven’t! And I don’t want anything to change between us. But yeah. Maybe I’ll follow your lead this next year, make new friends. Sirius says it’ll be good networking anyway, for the future.”

“I think that sounds like a good idea.” She gave her friend a big smile. She was genuinely happy that he seemed open to wanting to get to know other people. Everything was going to change so much.  

Sirius walked into the drawing room to find Narcissa, Lucius and Andromeda already seated. He ignored them and skulked straight to the bar cart, pouring himself a measure of firewhiskey that he promptly downed, before pouring himself another. Today was working out to be a real test on his emotions.

“A bit early don’t you think, Sirius?” Narcissa chastised.

With his back to the group he simply raised his glass to his side, owning his decision, “It’s five o’clock somewhere Cissa.”

“What’s got your wand in a knot?” Lucius drawled. 

Sirius heard Remus exhale and slump into his own seat.

“Hermione’s magic was suppressed as well.” His partner announced to the room. "The adoption procedure must have reverted the spell." No point beating around the bush, Sirius thought. 

“You can’t be serious?” Andromeda exclaimed.

Sirius span to face the rest of the room, his favourite catchphrase on the tip of his tongue out of reflex.

“Not now, Sirius.” Remus grumbled.

“I am, most definitely, being serious.” He threw Remus a look to show that he’d used the word correctly, thank you very much.

“We asked Harry to give a spell ago, just to see how his magic reacted now that the suppression has been lifted. When he explained how it felt, Hermione announced that she had realised that her magic felt different yesterday evening following the adoption. Both of them have had their magic limited all of this time. They had no idea.”

“Salazar.” Lucius stood abruptly and made his way to the drinks cart to pour himself his own glass of whiskey, ignoring the look his wife gave him.

“It’s pretty obvious that Harry’s magic was suppressed by Dumbledore, although for what reason is still unclear. But Hermione’s? Why would Lysa and Regulus decide to do that? If it was them, they must have made the decision not long after she had been born. What reason would they have to suppress the magic of a newborn baby?” Narcissa was looking at the different parties in the room.

“Sirius and I were talking last night and it just doesn’t make sense that Lysa went so far as to decide on godparents, for Hermione to then end up with the Grangers.” Remus added.

Narcissa and Andromeda nodded.

“There’s an awful lot that doesn’t make sense.” Lucius sat next to his wife again.

“How did her parents take it? I gather she’s spent this morning with you?” Andromeda asked.

“They’re hurt. They don’t understand and they want their own muggle proof. But I didn’t get punched in the face… so there’s that at least. And they were happy for her to come here.” Sirius shrugged.

“They asked that she stay with us just while they get their head around it. They were… at risk of saying some hurtful things in heat of the moment. Hermione didn’t need to be around that. She stayed here last night.” Remus added.

“They kicked her out?!” Narcissa was incensed.

“No, they just need space. I imagine she’ll be back with them soon.”

“They want DNA tests?” Andromeda questioned, being probably one of the few in the room who actually knew what the muggle investigation would involve.

“Yes. Severus also visited them briefly to see if he could extract any memories. The timeline adds up, he said that they were obliviated around 14 years ago. He wasn’t able to retrieve anything in the time here was there. It’s going to take more sessions, if they allow it.”

“So, they had absolutely no idea? Those poor people.”

“None. We’ve well and truly shattered their understanding of their lives with Hermione.”

Sirius’ voice had turned low and Lucius knocked back the drink in his hand, wincing slightly at the burn as it hit the back of his throat. Narcissa looked heartbroken on behalf of the Granger’s.

“Kreacher?” Narcissa called into the room.

“How can Kreacher be of assistance, Missy Cissa?” Sirius barely managed to suppress a laugh in reaction to just how close the elf had appeared next to his cousin,, and Narcissa jumped back in shock at the sudden intrusion into her personal space.

“A glass of honey mead please. Meda?”

“A glass of port.”

“And bring another bottle of firewhiskey.” Narcissa looked at her husband and Sirius’ empty glasses, and to Remus who hadn’t helped himself yet but definitely looked in need of it.

“An honour.” Kreacher disappeared.

“What do we do now?” Narcissa directed her attention back at the room.

“Are you still planning on taking your annual trip to the chateau?” Sirius asked.

“That’s the plan.” Lucius replied, topping up his glass from the bottle Kreacher was handing him. “We’re meant to be heading out next week.”

“Well, that seems to be a good place to start. Hermione will be visiting her Grandmother, or at least we presume she still will be.”

“We can hopefully orchestrate a meeting.” Narcissa was thinking to herself. “You’ll be joining us?”

“I didn’t want to presume the imposition, but yes, if that suits?” 

“It’d be our pleasure. Meda? Yourself, Ted and Dora are more than welcome as well.”

“Thank you.” Andromeda took a sip of her port, “I’ll discuss it with Ted when I get home.”

Sirius knew that there was more to the sister’s relationship that needed healing before they would be completely comfortable with each other, so he could understand Meda’s hesitancy. But they’d already come on leaps and bounds in the past couple of days.  

“I think the first question that needs addressing is whether we are absolutely sure that Hermione is Regulus’?” Lucius was wondering out loud, looking into his glass as if it was a crystal ball. Sirius was about to retort, when Lucius held up his hands to stop Sirius from questioning him. “Obviously the family tree revealed it. I don’t dispute that. But we all know that there are other ways for someone to become part of the family; you were going to adopt the girl for Godric’s sake. Harry is on the family tree now that you’ve adopted him. I just mean… I think all of us here know that Regulus wasn’t exactly a lady’s man.”

“Lucius…”

“Come on Cissa, you know as well as I do that it doesn’t follow.” Lucius turned to his wife.

It wasn’t as if the thought hadn’t crossed Sirius’ own mind. He had watched Regulus closely at school from across the Great Hall, and his brother never seemed to have much time for any of the girls in his year. Regardless, Sirius didn’t like how Lucius was raising the matter.

“You and your ‘buddies’ were closer with him towards the end than I was. You’d know the answer to that question better than me.” He raised his eyebrow, challenging Lucius.

“All I’m saying,” Lucius reiterated, “is that it’s worth questioning.”

“It only needed to happen once.” Sirius scoffed, “Maybe they just found comfort in each other in desperate times.”

“Maybe…”

“How it happened doesn’t matter right now!” Remus was exasperated. “The tree shows that she’s a Black, she was left with muggles who have been obliviated and her magic was suppressed. That is what matters.”

“Do we think it’s got anything to do with the myth?” Andromeda’s voice was meek, and she wasn’t looking at anyone in the room.

“Come on Meda, we all know that’s just Black family bedtime stories.” Sirius rose from his seat and dismissed the comment, striding back to the mantelpiece.

“She knew the calling phrase, Siri? She didn’t even know she was part of the family and she knew it! That's odd. On top of everything else...”

“Maybe she just heard it around. It’s not an unknown phrase. Blacks have used it for decades.” He was making excuses, “It’s used regularly just to signify something important is happening in the family.” He shrugged.

“It’s known to us, yes, and maybe some other Sacred 28 families, but to Hermione? There’s no way that she could have known. She said she just plucked it out of nowhere and put it in a letter to you!” Narcissa joined in now.

“Can someone please explain the importance of the phrase?” Remus was trying to get the attention of the rest of the room.

“In a time of strife, strange ties tangle.

When the night grows dark once more, the stars will gather.

A Black made not once but twice.

Friend to the master of death.

Protected by and protector of the stars .

Death and light will walk hand in hand

And the defender will fall.”

Andromeda and Narcissa recited in unison. Sirius found himself unable to prevent himself muttered the last sentence under his breath, out of sheer habit. He’d heard the stupid riddle too many times as a child.

“What is it?” Remus asked.

“We don’t know. The stories have been changed over time. Our father always said it was a prophecy given to an ancestor.”

“It doesn’t mean anything!” Sirius said from his position by the fireplace. “Just a stupid riddle, that doesn't rhyme and makes no sense.”

“It’s a pretty strange coincidence Black, you have to admit that.” Great, even Lucius was believing it now. “When she mentioned it in Fudge’s office, she didn’t seem to know what she was saying or the relevance to your family.”

“I will not have another child’s life being dictated by some old hacks attempt at a prophecy!” Sirius shouted into the room.

No one spoke for a moment.

“What do you mean?” Lucius asked cautiously.

“Oh, come on, like you don’t know why your precious Lord and Master went after the James and Lily?” He spat. He refused to break eye contact with the blonde-haired wizard, challenging him to deny it. It was a shock when he did.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Why do you think he went after the Potters?” Remus mumbled.

“They were strong supporters of the Light? The Potter’s were an important house. He went after them for the same reason he went after the McKinnon’s… the Longbottoms.”

Sirius was in astonishment. How could they not know?

“No. Well, yes, maybe, but that wasn’t the main reason.” Lucius and Narcissa were looking at him, wide eyed, wanting him to continue, so he did.

 “Dumbledore said there was a prophecy. A prophecy about Harry. He’d be the Dark Lord’s downfall in some way. That’s why they went into hiding, to protect Harry.”

Andromeda didn’t seem surprised, she had, after all been privy to the Order meetings in the final months of the war.

“Salazar.”

“We didn’t know.” Narcissa was gripping her glass so tight that Sirius was scared it would break. ‘He was going after Harry? A baby?” Her voice was hushed. She didn’t seem to be able to compute that a child was the Dark Lord’s target all along.

“And the prophecy was true?” Lucius was flabbergasted. “The boy stopped him that night.”

Andromeda had been silent from her position on the sofa.

“I’m sorry Sirius, it’s not what you want to hear, but I think, if anything, what you’ve just said supports the fact that the myth could be about Hermione.”

“Wha-“

“Sirius, think about it. Made a Black twice? Once through birth, presumably by Regulus, second through your attempt to adopt her. Protector of the stars? Well, she’s saved you once already, and you’re clearly protective of her. Hell, we’re all here ready to defend her aren’t we? Friend to the master of death? I’m sorry Sirius… but she’s best friends with the one person who has ever survived the killing curse…”

“Fuck.” Remus was the first to speak.

“Fuck.” Lucius followed.

“Excuse the language, but I agree, fuck.” Narcissa noticeably cringed as the word left her lips.

Sirius looked to the ceiling, wishing for something, anything else to make more sense than what Meda had just said.

“Fuck.” He finally agreed.

The group were jolted out of their thoughts when Harry and Hermione rounded the corner.

“We’re heading upstairs!” Harry poked his head around the archway before disappearing again; he seemed to have cheered up considerably since being told about the Longbottom’s and was obviously not paying attention to the mood of the room. Hermione made to follow him before doing a double take and assessing the room.

“Is everything okay?” She evidently had a better read on the emotions flying around than her friend. Sirius didn’t feel capable of answering.

“We’re perfect Hermione, nothing to worry about.” Narcissa rose and put her hand to the girl’s cheek before sending her on her way.

Once the adults were alone again Remus asked the question they were all probably thinking, “So, what does this mean? If she is the one described in the prophecy?”

“Nothing.” Sirius replied. Narcissa was staring him down from across the room as if he was speaking in tongues.

“Nothing, for now.” He conceded. “We have enough to be going on with. We don’t even know what the bloody prophecy, poem, children’s story means.”

“Okay. So, order of play? You’re meeting with Lady Longbottom?” Lucius composed himself.

“Yes, the day after next, I’d like Andromeda and Narcissa present for that, you’re welcome of course Lucius, but you two should definitely be there.” He looked to his cousins, “I’m just waiting on a confirmation for the time and place.” The Black sisters appeared to convey messages to each other with their eyes before agreeing.

“I’m going to arrange the DNA test and hopefully sit down with Richard and Helen again. As much as I love Hermione being around, she shouldn’t be here too long in the aftermath of the news. I don’t want it to form a wedge between her and her parents. I’ll also table whether or not we can meet with her Grandmother in France, that is, if they still intend to make the trip.”

“That’s good.”

“Harry needs to continue on his regime of potions. Meda can you help with that? We went shopping today and it was… well, he needs bulking out.”

Andromeda gave Sirius a sympathetic look.

“Lucius –“

“I’ll investigate the suppression of their magic. I’ll have more to go on in Harry’s case and I imagine the investigation by the Ministry into his initial placement with his Aunt and Uncle will reveal a lot. Hermione’s situation however, we might need to wait for more information. Might I suggest you begin looking through Reggie’s stuff? He was a diligent record keeper if I remember rightly.”

Sirius hated the idea of sifting through his brother’s belongings but he knew it would have to be done at some point. Lucius was right, Reggie had always kept diaries and Sirius had often seen him scribbling away while they were at school. He guessed he’d be taking a rather painful trip back down memory lane in the coming weeks.

“We’re going to get Harry and Hermione up to speed with Wizengamot politics over the summer, they’ll also take lessons in etiquette and, if you’re amenable Narcissa, we’re going to get them to work on the godparent bond. I’ll contact Severus as well.” Remus contributed.

“It’ll be my pleasure.” Narcissa was smiling.

“Harry asked about his godparents earlier.” Sirius spoke to the room at large. “He didn’t know who his others were. I told him that the Longbottom’s were attacked by death eaters. I didn’t say who. It seems Neville has been keeping it quiet… neither of them knew.”

“You need to tell them before we meet with Augusta.” Andromeda seemed resolute.

“I agree.” Narcissa was wringing her hands. “We need to be honest about our family’s past, especially if it's your intention to lead the House of Black in a new direction.”

“I thought you’d say that. I’ll sit down with them tonight.”

“Do you have any insight into how the other Houses are taking the announcement? We received a number of formal invitations this morning, but I imagine you have the more, unguarded reactions?” Remus asked Narcissa.

“Obviously there’s a lot of incredulousness at Hermione’s existence. But generally, it hasn’t been negative among our circles. If anything, people seem to be pleased, she’s another pureblood to add to the gene pool.” Lucius replied on his wife’s behalf.

Sirius positively snarled at his statement and he could hear Remus omitting a similar growl. A Black in name no more than 24 hours and already the vultures were circling and thinking about Hermione’s marriage prospects.

“I want that kind of talk to be shut down. We will not be talking about marriage or courting or anything of the sort. She’s grown up as a muggle, she will not have any time for that kind of thing and neither do I. I’m pretty certain her parents would have something to say about that as well.”

Narcissa nodded. “Harry being made heir to House Black has been the more controversial news. He’ll be head of two strong houses in the future. And, he is Harry Potter. It’s got people feeling unsettled. Add on top of that the fact that the House of Malfoy is supporting you… We’ve caused a bit of a stir.” She rolled her eyes slightly, irritated by the fickleness of her friendship group and took a sip of her drink.

“Keep an eye on their tone, I don’t want to ostracise the main families, things have changed since the war and we should be able to work together, but if they begin to make moves I want to know.”

“The centre ground houses want to meet with us. I’ll arrange meetings in the coming days. We should probably be willing to meet with the Parkinson’s and Greengrass’ as well. But we’ll be holding off on meeting the darker Houses until we’re more settled.” Remus was taking over in his de facto role as consigliere. It had been a joke that morning, but the more Sirius thought about it, the more he suited the position. He could maybe make the role more official, solidifying Remus' place in the House and sticking it to all the prejudiced fuckers who would have to deal with him if he took the position formally, Sirius pondered to himself, watching his partner take command of the room. Referring to him by the Italian seemed pompous though given they had no Italian roots. Maybe he’d adopt the English translation; Advisor? Yes, Remus was definitely settling into the position of Advisor. Had done since school.  

“Who is the head of the Prewett house at the moment?” Remus continued, bringing up his and Sirius’ conversation from that morning.

It was Andromeda who spoke up, her eyes flicking briefly to Narcissa before she did so, “That’d be Charlie Weasley. He’s currently in Romania working on a Dragon Reservation.”

Narcissa bit her lip to try and contain a smile, focussing hard on the drink in her hand. Sirius caught the movement and looked between his two cousins. They’d been like this as children, knowing things he didn’t, conveying information through glances.

“What’s with the face, Cissa? And why do you know so much about Charlie Weasley, Meda?”

“Dora is good friends with Charlie.” Meda didn’t elaborate and said it with a nonchalant shrug. But Narcissa’s face pulled into a wider grin.

“Good friends?” Sirius found himself smiling as well. “Oh…oh! I see…”

Even Lucius seemed amused at his sister-in-law’s embarrassment on the behalf of her daughter.

“Yes, he’s a lovely boy and was in her year at school.” Andromeda cleared her throat, trying to return to the matter at hand. “Anyway, as I understand it, his older brother Bill will take the Weasley seat, and he will take the Prewett. Although neither has been officialised yet.”

“Right well… that’s good to know.” Remus offered.

“So… Baby Dora found herself a… dragon tamer?” Sirius raised an eyebrow and wiggled it at his cousin, who blushed and threw her hand to her face.

“Oh Merlin, she’s going to kill me for telling you. She could do it you know! She’s an Auror. I’ve broken the mother-daughter code!”

“The Auror and the Dragon Tamer. There’s a romance novel in there somewhere.” He joked, stretching his arm across the mantelpiece and leaning back as he laughed.

“It definitely sounds like a book Cissa has on her bedside table. What was it this week, my dear, something about a bodyguard and a Veela?” Lucius teased and Sirius wasn’t at all surprised as he watched Cissa send a stinging hex at her husband. Many a man had cursed the day he’d got on the wrong side of a Black sister while at school, and Sirius knew from experience that Cissa’s stinging hexes packed a punch. The wince on Lucius’ face said it all.

Chapter Text

When Theo had returned to Nott Manor after his day of finding new family (and cuisines), he had barely had chance to collect his thoughts before he found himself crashing out on his bed, fully clothed, cradling his box of pizza. It was in that same position that Gerald found him the following morning. On Theo’s instruction the elf had left him until nearly gone 11am before waking him; it was the summer holidays after all. It didn’t stop Gerald from giving him a disapproving frown as roused is master, and an even more severe glare when Theo requested that the pizza leftovers be heated up again for his breakfast. Or was it brunch now? It’d be stupid to waste a good thing, regardless. Gerald finally agreed to his requests, reluctantly taking the box of pizza, before shoving him in the direction of the shower.

Theo had always had a good relationship with Gerald. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Potter that he’d been his best friend throughout his childhood. He’d originally been his mother’s elf, but when she had passed away (nefarious reasons unknown), Gerald had essentially adopted Theo. Theo was fairly certain his father hadn’t had any say in the situation, not that they’d ever discussed it. Given the man’s open disdain for the creature, it was a miracle he’d let the curmudgeonly elf stick around. Gerald didn’t answer to his father and, as Theo had grown older, he realised just how much of a blessing that had been. Gerald was obedient, caring and patient, everything you wanted in an elf, but he was also grumpy, knowledgeable, and liked to talk back. He’d given Theo a stern telling off a number of times over the years but had also taught him a lot and instilled in him a habit of asking questions. That didn’t go down with his father; Theo’s desire to constantly ask ‘but why’ as a child had been physically beaten out of him. Now he knew not to ask the questions out loud anymore, but he couldn’t be stopped from thinking them, and Gerald would always be happy to help him to find the answers, pointing him to books, articles and anything else he thought would help Theo get to the bottom of whatever question was bugging him that day.

Yeah, Gerald was the best. That was Theo’s overriding thought as he watched the elf fuss around the dining table, trying desperately, in a last-ditch attempt, to try and convince his master that pizza for brunch wasn’t a sensible decision.

“It’s genius, Gerald. And pineapple with ham is my new favourite thing. What other fruits go with meat?” Theo wasn’t going to be dissuaded.

The elf grumbled that he would ask the kitchen elves to investigate, before reluctantly presenting Theo with a plate of reheated pizza, a glass of grapefruit juice and a coffee.

Theo tucked in. Could it be possible that pizza on day two was better than pizza on day one? Theo made a mental reminder to ask Hermione when he saw her later in the day.

“There are a number of letters for you, Master Theo. More than usual.” Gerald handed over a bundle bound by a black ribbon before removing Theo’s empty breakfast plate. Theo began sifting through the various scripts, separating off the ones he was actually bothered about replying to. Pansy’s, Blaise’s, Daph’s…

“Oh yeah, I probably should have expected this.”

“May Gerald ask why?”

The question shouldn’t have caught Theo off guard, but it was the first time that he’d have to explain yesterday’s events and he found that he didn’t know where to begin. He was also ashamed to find that suddenly, for one of only a few times in his life, he wondered whether or not letting Gerald know was a good idea. Talking about Mia in his father’s house felt risky. He shook his head and remembered what Sirius had said about protecting her – the pretend ex-convict didn’t seem like someone you’d mess with, that was a small comfort. He also resolved that his father probably knew by now. Wherever he was at the moment, he wasn’t out of reach of owls or the Prophet. So, Theo thought, no harm telling Gerald…

“Oh um… I found out I have a cousin yesterday. A girl in my year. She thought that she was muggleborn but it turns out that she’s adopted. Her mother was my Aunt Lysa. So, all of these letters are most likely my friends wanting the gossip.”

Gerald dropped the plate he was holding.

Gerald dropped a plate.

“Gerald?”

The elf didn’t answer. Frozen to the spot, staring at the smashed plate in front of him.

“What’s wrong Gerald?”

“My apologies, Master Theo. What a mess.” The elf disappeared the broken fragments of crockery from the oxblood red carpet and tried to exit the room.

“Gerald? Stop!”

Gerald stopped. Theo hated it when he had to use direct commands with him. He moved from his seat to where the wizened old elf had frozen in the middle of the dining room and knelt down in front of him. Gerald’s eyes were wide and scared.

“What do you know?”

Cissa had been so sure that the elf that she’d been in contact with was the only one to have any information about Hermione.

“Gerald cannot say Master Theo.” He was physically shaking in front of Theo. His small arms trembling as if he was being blasted by icy winds. He had emphasised ‘say’ with pleading eyes. Okay, Theo could work with this.

“You can’t say. Is that right? That’s okay Gerald.” Theo ran his hand over his elf’s arm to try and comfort him, “But what can you do?”

“Gerald can….” He seemed to be forcing the words out of his mouth, scrunching up his big eyes and battling hard against something internally. Before Theo could stop him, the small creature pulled away from his grasp and threw himself towards the large hearth and began to hit his head against the marble. Theo was frozen in shock.

“STOP IT!” Theo had never seen him like this and had never, ever, given Gerald any form of corporal punishment. He ran to his friend’s side and tried to pull him away from the fireplace, gathering him in a crushing embrace. He could feel Gerald shuddering against the touch, thrashing to be free. Blood was pouring from his forehead and dripping onto Theo’s shirt. In his shock at seeing the scarlet beginning to stain his clothes, Theo loosend his grip slightly and Gerald broke free from his hands and made for the fireplace again. Theo scrambled on all fours to pull him back, but not before the elf’s head made contact with the stone once more.

“No! Gerald, please stop!” Theo was panicking. He didn’t know what to do. He was just strong enough to pick Gerald up so he could reach the floo powder on the mantel piece. Chucking a handful into the grate, he shouted for the first place that came to mind before stepping into the flame.

Draco was in his bedroom answering letters.

Yes, Pansy, it was true.

No, he didn’t know what had happened.

Yes, Potter was now heir to the House of Black.

Yes, he was now expected to be civil to them.

No, the France holiday wasn’t off.

Yes, she was still invited.

No, he didn’t know if Potter and Granger would be joining them.

No, he didn’t know what products Granger used on her hair. Merlin’s fucking beard.

How did she manage to cram so many questions into such a small letter? It was an art he knew his mother would be impressed by. The two witches were remarkably close. His mother had taken Pansy under her wing after a gala where Draco had witnessed Pansy’s mother and father being particularly unkind to her. He’d only been small, and he’d never seen parents talk to a child like that. He’d mentioned it to his mother and the rest had been history. Now they were in frequent correspondence with each other, had inside jokes and enjoyed taunting Draco whenever they were together and in his company. He knew his father likely had aspirations for a marriage contract, but that wasn’t how he saw Pansy and his mother knew that. It wasn’t how Pansy saw him either. She was a pain his backside but one of his closest friends.

He was just sealing his letter when his fireplace roared into life and Theo stumbled through, covered in blood and carrying his elf.

“What the fuck?!”

“HELP!”

“What’s wrong with him?!” Draco rushed to Theo’s side and managed to grab one of the elf’s arms to relieve some of the weight Theo was holding.

“I don’t know! I told him what happened yesterday, he dropped a plate, and then tried to fucking brain himself on the fireplace. He knows something, but he can’t say! Oh Godric, he’s bleeding Draco!” Draco was surprised at the fight the elf was still giving considering the amount of blood coming from his head.

“Okay, um…” he was thinking fast, “Okay, tell him you won’t ask him to tell you what happened.”

“But we need to know?!”

“We can work around it! Just tell him!” Neither of the teenagers were small for their age but, regardless, Gerald was making it hard for both of them to keep hold of him.

“Gerald, I’m not going to ask you to tell me what happened. Please, please, stop.” His friend pleaded with the elf. “Please don’t fight, you’re hurt. Let me help you! We need to fix you.” Theo was sobbing. Draco knew just how close the two were and it was hard to watch his best friend cry over his elf.

It took a moment, but slowly Gerald began to calm down. Still shaking from his efforts, he looked wide eyed at his master. For a second he didn’t seem to know what to do, before his eyes began to drift and his eyelids flickered as he lost consciousness.

“We need to go to my mother. Now.”

“What?”

“One, she’ll be able to fix him up,” Draco indicated to the gash on the elf’s head, “and two, she might know how we can get around the compulsion.” At the statement, Gerald suddenly erupted into life again, beginning to twist against both of the boy’s grasps, causing them to collapse to the floor in their attempt to hold him still.

“Right… is she downstairs?” Theo puffed out, he was a library boy and not used to physical activities. “CISSA!”

“She’s not here… she’s at Sirius’ place.”

“Okay, well, we’ll go there then.” Theo began to navigate himself off the floor.

“Are you sure?” Draco didn’t love the idea of turning up unannounced at the Black residence.

“Yeah, I need him to be okay, Draco! He’s my…”

Draco understood.

“…I was there yesterday evening - Remus and Sirius said I was welcome - and, just please!”

“Okay. Let’s go.” Draco took a firmer grasp on the elf’s arm and moved towards the fireplace.

In a burst of flames, they stepped into the Black living room, toppling into the legs of Sirius Black in the process where he had been stood in front of the fire. Draco hardly had a moment to collect his bearings before Gerald began to kick against them once more.

“Draco?” he heard his mother shout. He was barely paying attention as he held onto Gerald. “Oh my god is that blood?!”

“Please help Gerald!” Theo cried. “He knows something, but he can’t say, and he hurt his head trying to stop himself from talking. Please, he’s hurt! I told him I wouldn’t ask him to tell me anything else.”

The adults in the room burst into action, separating the children from the elf before someone, Draco thought it was Remus, stupified the creature in order to stop him from moving. Andromeda began to try and heal his forehead and his mother began removing the blood from Gerald’s face and pillowcase. Both witches were knelt on the floor working fast.

“What happened Theo?” Draco watched his father move to stand in front of his friend, both hands on his shoulders in a reassuring grip.

“I had lots of letters, because of the announcement, and Gerald asked why…” Theo was trembling, “I told him… we don’t have secrets… and he went all strange. So, I asked him what he knew, and he started…” Theo looked back to where his friend was being treated by the two witches. His face was pale and there was a smudge of blood on his cheek from where he’d been cradling Gerald.

“…he… he just started hurting himself, and I couldn’t stop him. I really tried!”

“It’s okay, Theo.” Remus had approached the boy now and made to move him to the sofa.

“I managed to get hold of him and floo’d to Draco. I didn’t know what to do! Your place was the first place I could think of going. Gerald calmed down a bit when I told him I wouldn’t ask him to tell me what happened but then he freaked out again. Dray said Cissa would know what to do, so we came here.”

“Okay, breathe for a second Theo. You did the right thing. We’ve got him now.” Remus was rubbing Theo’s back.

“Draco, are you okay?”

It took a moment for Draco to realise that he was being asked a question. Sirius was speaking to him and he was snapped out of his thoughts. He looked at his hands, covered in blood from where he’d been handling the elf. Sirius quickly took his hands in his and vanished the red from his skin. Now his hands were clear he felt like he could concentrate more.

“Um, yeah, I think so. Is he alright?” Draco indicated to the unconscious elf.

“He will be, you did a good thing bringing him here. Cissa and Meda will have him patched up in no time.” Sirius gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“Kreacher?” Sirius called.

The Black elf appeared in the room and took stock of the situation.

“We need two calming potions please. And please set up a space for Gerald to stay.”

Kreacher was eyeing the injured elf with curiosity. “Of course.” He disappeared and re-appeared in a blink of an eye. Sirius handed Draco a vial, and Remus took one for Theo.

“I don’t need this,” Draco said, eyeing the potion he’d been handed.

“You may think that now, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you are both in shock.” His father was beside him, “Take it.”

Draco watched his friend down his vial under observation from Remus and he followed suit, feeling the instant wave of relaxation take over his body. He hadn’t realised quite how tense he’d been holding himself until he began to let the potion take hold.

“Theodore, you did brilliantly getting him here.” Narcissa crouched next to Theo and gave him a hug and a kiss on the forehead before summoning a handkerchief directly from her husband’s pocket to wipe the blood from his cheek. “He’s going to be fine.”

“He’ll need some rest and, if he’s as distressed as you described, he might be a bit volatile when he wakes up, but in terms of his injuries, he’ll be good as new in no time.” Andromeda said from her position on the floor. She rose and transfigured a drinks coaster into a stretcher. Kreacher took over levitating the elf onto the hovering bed.

“Kreacher? Can you keep watch on him and make sure he doesn’t leave before we’ve spoken to him? You might need to ward his room.” Sirius requested. Kreacher nodded. “Do you know where Harry and Hermione are?”

“They are in Missy Hermy’s room listening to banshee music.” The bag of bones elf answered before directing the stretcher out of the room.

Once Kreacher had left, Lucius began asking Theo questions. Draco could tell he hated it, but the calming potion was counterintuitive to any fight his friend might have had.

“It’s just what I told you. He asked why I had more letter’s than usual, so I explained about Hermione and he broke a plate. Gerald never breaks plates, so I knew something was wrong. I asked him if he knew anything and he went all weird. He said he ‘can’t say anything’. So, I tried to get around that by asking him what he can do. And that’s when he…” Theo shuddered and Narcissa wrapped her arms around him.

“It was all I could do to get him to your house.” Theo was looking into Narcissa’s eyes, tears leaking down his face. “He seemed to calm down or pass out when I told him I wouldn’t ask him to tell me, but then when Dray mentioned that you might know how to get around the compulsion, he went mental again. He needs to be okay Aunt Cissa… he’s my best friend.” His final sentence was said in hushed tones.

“Shh, it’s okay Theo. He’ll be more than fine.” She whispered into his hair, smoothing it back. Draco scanned the room and noticed that both Sirius and Remus seemed caught by surprise at how concerned Theo was for his elf.

“I need to be there when he wakes up.”

“Of course, we’ll get Kreacher to let you know when that happens.” Draco’s mother looked to Sirius for confirmation.

“Yeah. I’ll let him know. Um… Why don’t you two go upstairs to Hermione’s room and just take a moment to relax for a bit?” Sirius suggested.

“But…” Draco began.

“Draco, please leave us for a moment.”

Draco bowed his head as his father spoke, knowing better than to disobey in public. He also didn’t have much fight in him as a result of the calming draught. Theo rose from his seat and led Draco out of the room, apparently, to Draco’s surprise, knowing where he was going.

“You can tell me later what Kreacher considers as ‘banshee music’!” Sirius called after them in an attempt to lighten the mood and Theo let out a small laugh.

“Yes Sir, Lord Black, Sir.”

Draco could hear Sirius scoffing behind them but didn’t have time to ask exactly why Theo was insisting on using Sirius’ official title, before he was being directed up the stairs and instructed to skip the first step.

He did as he was told and followed after his friend.

Hermione was introducing Harry to Alice in Chains and their album ‘Dirt’. They were laid on her bed, Walkman between them. She’d managed to twist her headphones so that both of them could listen. It wasn’t ideal but it worked for now. Both of them had their knees up, backs flat to the mattress, just listening, comfortable in each other’s presence. The morning had been tiring and neither of them had much energy to discuss anything at that moment.

That was until Theo burst through her bedroom door, followed by a very hesitant Malfoy.

“Theo? Malfoy? What’s going on?” She sat bolt upright from her position on the bed.

“Is that blood?” Harry shouted. She hadn’t even noticed but Harry was right, both boys were indeed covered in blood.

“My elf…” Theo mumbled.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Hermione was stood now, doing a check over Theo to make sure that he wasn’t injured in anyway. He looked ready to burst into tears and she noticed his face was already red from crying. Malfoy looked equally shaken.

“You can get cleaned up in my bathroom. Harry, can they borrow some of your clothes? I’m not confident using my wand to clean this up.” She indicated to their bloodied tops.

“Um yeah, sure.” Harry dashed out of the room.

“You don’t need to…” Malfoy began.

“Sh. You’re not going to stay covered in blood.” Hermione didn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence.

Harry returned wielding two of his new tops, chucking them at the two Slytherins. Hermione had to breathe heavily and try extremely hard not to hex Harry when she realised that he’d given Draco a Gryffindor red top. She was fairly certain he’d done it on purpose.

“The bathroom is just through there.” She pointed towards her ensuite.

Malfoy paused before moving towards where she was pointing. Theo followed, beginning to take his shirt off as he walked. Hermione spun around. Even if Theo didn’t care, she didn’t feel comfortable watching him undress. From her position turned away from the boys she could, however, see Harry - he took slightly longer to look away. She heard the bathroom door close and the taps begin to run and felt confident in turning back to the room.

“What do you think happened?” Harry asked, running his hand through his hair.

“No idea.”

The bathroom door opened and the two Slytherins exited.

“Thanks Harry. We’ve left our shirts in the bathtub.” Theo spoke first. Harry had given him a plain white top with long blue sleeves – it wasn’t what Theo would normally wear, but it was in no way as jarring as how different Malfoy looked. He was now wearing a v-neck jumper, his near white hair contrasting against the crimson cashmere. She forced herself not to comment. Hermione gestured to her bed and Harry and Theo made themselves at home. Malfoy however hovered nearby, before opting to take a seat at the dressing table.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I was just going through my mail when... My elf… Gerald…” Theo didn’t seem to know or want to continue, and Hermione was surprised when Malfoy stepped in.  

“Theo’s elf seems to know something about… you.” He was faced into the mirror rather than directly at her, but Hermione could tell that he was looking at her in the reflection.

“About me?” Hermione didn’t break contact with the grey eyes in the mirror.

“He reacted oddly when Theo told him about you. Theo asked him what he knew, and Gerald began hurting himself in an attempt to stop himself from talking.” Malfoy was holding her gaze through the mirror. “We managed to get him here. My mother and Aunt Andromeda have fixed him up.”

“Oh…” Hermione looked to the door, breaking the second-hand eye contact they’d been holding via the mirror.

“Is he okay?” Harry asked Theo.

“Yeah. Narcissa says so. Your elf is looking over him.”

“Are you okay?”

Hermione watched Malfoy jerk in reaction to Harry asking Theo the question.

“Yeah, I’m better now. But Dray and I are dosed up on calming draught so, it’s questionable how good I actually feel.”

“That explains how easy it was to get Malfoy to wear red.” Harry laughed weakly.

“Yeah, but look at how good he looks. Doesn’t he look good Mia?! Red is your colour Draco.” Theo tried to joke, but Hermione could tell that his heart wasn’t in it.

Hermione looked to where Malfoy was sat. She could admit that he didn’t look terrible, but that wasn’t anything she wanted to say out loud, especially right now. Instead she diverted the topic.

“Was your elf badly injured?”

“Yeah.” Theo stilled. “He tried to knock himself out on the fireplace. He’s unconscious at the moment.”

“Fuck.” Harry said under his breath. “What happens now?”

“We wait for Gerald to wake up and hope he’s a bit calmer.” Theo shrugged before falling back onto the bed. “It seems like he knows something though, so that’s a good thing, I guess. If we can get it out of him. I don’t want him to hurt himself again.”

“Okay…” Harry didn’t look happy. Hermione knew that he was thinking back to how Goyle’s dad had treat his elf. The corporal punishment house elves inflicted on themselves in the name of servitude was barbaric. Maybe she should do something about that. She’d add it to her to-do list. Harry laid back on the bed so that both himself and Theo were taking up the majority of the space. She was sat at the end, her legs crossed.

“Did you get my letter?

“Huh?”

“I sent you an owl. We went shopping this morning so I sent Hedwig with a message to let you know we wouldn’t be in if you planned on coming around this morning. I was going to floo you…”

“Oh, I didn’t see it. I didn’t get far through my letters before everything went to shit.”

The room fell into a semi-comfortable silence. Hermione found that she couldn’t help but continue to watch Malfoy, he looked so awkward in her room. He was frequently flicking his attention from the unpacked trunk on the floor, to where Theo was relaxing on the bed. He didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. Finally, he looked back into the mirror and she managed to catch his eye. She was about to say something when he spoke first,

“Sirius wants to know what music Kreacher is classing as ‘Banshee Music’.”

“Is that what he’s calling it?” She laughed and Malfoy, finally, turned to fully face the group on the bed.

“Apparently. “Missy Hermy is in her bedroom listening to Banshee music”.” Malfoy quoted with a rye smile.

“Missy Hermy?” Harry laughed without raising his head from where he was laid on the bed.

“It’s cute.” Hermione retorted.

“That’s one way of describing it.” Harry chortled.

“So, what’s the muggle music of choice today? Theo’s been trying to enlighten us all to the wonders of your music throughout the last year. We haven’t… hated it.” He said it with an aloof shrug, but Hermione sensed that he was disguising genuine interest. She wasn’t going to ruin the moment.

“Um, we were listening to a band called Alice in Chains. Here.” She stood and handed him her Walkman. He looked at the devise for a couple of moments before Hermione took pity on him and pressed play. Clearly Theo had been the one operating the device in the common room. She looked at him expectantly for his permission to place the headphones on his head, she took a subtle twitch of his head as the go ahead and popped them over his head. He was startled at the noise, lifting and returning the headphones from his ears as he got used to the volume, until he finally settled. Hermione tried desperately not to compare the image of Malfoy adjusting to the technology to a neanderthal experiencing fire for the first time.

Hermione left him alone to listen, his face became focussed as he listened, and she was conscious that he probably didn’t want an audience. She returned to her seat on the bed, lying back and resting her head on Harry’s shins.

“Well this could be a useful development. Although, I don’t like how it’s come about.” Lucius spoke, his eyes were fixed on where his son had left the room.

“Quite.” Sirius picked up his glass from where it had been abandoned on the mantelpiece.

Andromeda had disappeared to check that the elf had been settled in an appropriate room. Apparently, she didn’t fully trust Kreacher to accommodate him to an appropriate standard.

“I’m not sure how useful it’s going to be. Gerald was Selene’s elf before she died, and then bonded to Theo. So, now we have to add the possibility of Selene being in on whatever occurred and no obvious way of undoing whatever secrecy binding she made him make.” Narcissa sighed.

“Where did she sit in the war? I mean, she was married to Tiberius so can we...”

“As you very well know, most Sacred 28 women don’t get to have much say in their choice of husband.” Andromeda said curtly as she re-entered the room; Narcissa was casting a grateful look at her husband.

“Selene was a Greengrass. They’ve always been relatively neutral, and she stuck to that. She wasn’t outspoken in front of the main families, but she spoke to me about it. We were much in the same camp. I don’t know how much you know about her death?” Narcissa looked to Sirius and Remus.

“Only what Theo mentioned far too glibly yesterday evening; he seems to think his father was behind it in some way.” Remus frowned, “Is he right?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Narcissa didn’t say anything else.

“Okay. So, it looks like we’re adding the mysterious Nott elf to the mix. I don’t think we’ll get much out of him without Theo’s help, but I don’t really love the idea of getting him mixed up in this. Today was already a lot for him to go through.” Sirius was fidgeting. The way Theo had appeared, covered in blood in the Black family drawing room was bringing back memories of past family occasions. Although the blood hadn’t been Theo’s, the image of a teenage boy, distressed and painted with scarlet reminded him of the numerous times he’d suffered and bled at the hands of his family, in the same room.

“Gerald practically raised Theo after Selene passed away. I don’t think I’ve seen many relationships between wizards and elves as strong as theirs, perhaps barring Reggie and Kreacher…” Narcissa trailed off.

Lucius picked up where Narcissa left off, “That is to say, we’ve seen Theo arrive at our house after clearly being given a… turn… by his father,” Sirius winced at the phrase, “and act like nothing had happened. But I’ve never seen him that distraught.” Even Lucius sounded unsettled by what had just occurred.

Remus was looking at Sirius and he knew in that moment that they were both thinking the same thing.

“What you said yesterday?” He didn’t break eye contact with his partner who nodded in acknowledgement, “Yeah. We’ve got all three of them.”

He didn’t care that the rest of the room didn’t know what they were talking about, Sirius wouldn’t let Theo become another casualty of a despotic pureblood household. He was officially being added to the litter.

Chapter Text

Draco was getting impatient. He’d been sat in Hermione Granger’s guest room at Grimmauld Place for nearly an hour now, wearing an obnoxiously Gryffindor red jumper and listening to Theo, Granger and Scarhead witter on about aimless shit for too long. Theo kept trying to bring him into the conversation, but Draco was resolved to listen to the music Granger had given him and not get involved. Even Granger had tried at one point to ask him about the potions book Uncle Sev had promised to bring him; he’d lifted the headphones from his head briefly, given a non-committal reply, containing the bare minimum of information, and then returned to his music cocoon. It wasn’t that he was intentionally being rude, his mother wouldn’t be impressed with that, it was more that he wasn’t making an attempt to be polite. And, honestly, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud, Theo turning up in his room covered in blood and dragging his injured elf had left him feeling unsettled. He was happy to be left in his own thoughts for a bit. The music wasn’t bad either. The singers voice was maybe a bit whiney.  

Draco didn’t know what his friend was chatting about with the two Gryffindors, but he was glad that Theo looked to have at least pushed the trauma of earlier to the side for a moment. Ever since they were children, Theo had been freer with his emotions than Draco ever was. Theo’s highs were high, his lows were low, his smile would cheer up the common room and when he retreated into himself, their friendship group felt like they were missing something. They all knew that how Theo behaved with them, was in stark contrast to how he acted when he was at home in his father’s company. Not that his attempts to fulfil the pureblood ideal of an heir had protected him from Tiberius’ wrath. Draco had first wished that man dead when he was only 8 years old. Regardless of his own feelings towards the frizzy haired swot, currently sat on the bed next to his best friend, he was glad that Theo had someone else to call family besides his monster of father.   

He was brought out of his thoughts by a knock on the door and the entry of his mother. He removed the music playing device from his head – had he heard Granger call it a Walkman? Stupid name. – and placed it on the dressing table in front of him.

“Mother?”

He saw his mother look to him and do a slight double take, her lips twisting at the edges into a conspiratorial grin, before composing herself. Bloody Potter and this bloody jumper.  

“How’s Gerald?” Theo had bounced himself off the bed to meet Narcissa at the door. She stroked his hair down from where his curls had become mussed up from lying on a pillow.

“I’m afraid we haven’t woken him up yet, best to give him a while longer to heal before we do.”

“Oh.” Theo returned to the side of the bed and Draco watched as Granger put her arm around him.

“He’s going to be just fine, Theo dear. I have no doubt about that. How are you finding the room Hermione? I hope it’s to your tastes.”

“It’s wonderful Narcissa, really. Thank you. It’s um… weirdly similar to my bedroom back at home.” Draco listened as she gave a strange laugh; it sounded sad.

“Godmother’s intuition.”

His mother was looking at Granger with concern in her eyes. Draco wondered what that was about, noting that even Potter looked uncomfortable and was eyeing his friend as if she was about to burst into tears, and then it clicked. He was in Granger’s bedroom. Her bedroom at Grimmauld Place. Her trunk was on the floor. There were clothes folded on an accent chair. Her makeup was littering the dressing table in front of him.

Why was she staying here? Fuck. Had her parents kicked her out?!

He felt a sudden sense of anger at the thought, the intense surge taking him by surprise. He didn’t realise that he was staring at Granger until she raised her head from where it had been hung, her eyes meeting his briefly before she blinked and turned away.

“I came upstairs to ask that you join us in the drawing room.” His mother pulled him from his thoughts.

“All of us?” Harry asked.

“Yes. We’ll expect you downstairs in the next five minutes.” His mother sniffed and then swept out of the room.

“Grang-“ Draco felt compelled to speak.

“Don’t.”

“You don’t know what I was about to say!” He was genuinely taken aback by her reply.

“You were going to say something about the fact that I’m staying here, right? Probably some nasty thing about my parents. Don’t.” She bit out.

“Are you serious?” He exclaimed, offended at the insinuation. He knew that he’d been a tool to her in the past, but did she really think he’d make fun of her right now? “I was ju-“

“Come on guys, let’s just go downstairs.” Theo interrupted him again, pulling on Granger’s hand to get her to stand.

“Whatever.” Draco strode towards the door and stomped back downstairs, not caring that he triggered a portrait of a bigoted screeching witch in the process. Sirius was quick to exit the drawing room and shut her up. Draco made his way straight to the sofa, perching on the arm next to where his mother was sat. Potter, Theo and Granger traipsed in after him a few moments later. He tried to focus his attention on a patch of wall in front of him, ignoring their entrance.

“I see you got yourself cleaned up.” His father said in a low voice, and Draco looked up out of reflex to find his father quirking his eyebrow at him. I am never wearing red again.

“Harry leant us both some stuff, our clothes had… well, they’re upstairs in Mia’s bathroom.” Theo said to the room.

“I’ll get Kreacher to sort them out.” Sirius gestured to everyone still standing to sit, but remained standing himself. Draco was still struggling to get his head around the transformation his relative had made from feral looking convict to the confident and impressive man in front of him. He had always been in awe at the way his father managed to effortlessly command a room and Sirius seemed to have the same power, but in a completely different way that Draco couldn’t put his finger on.

Sirius clapped his hands. “Right, we believe that it is best that you all know exactly what we are planning going forward. We want you to be in the loop as much as possible and be able to have a say in what we’re doing.” Draco didn’t really see why he was being included in this conversation.

“Firstly, Gerald. Theo, Meda thinks it’ll be best for him to stay here until he wakes up. Kreacher is currently monitoring him, but Meda will check in on him across the course of the day. Once he’s awake, we’ll let you know and, depending on how he reacts, we’ll try and have a conversation to see what kind of information he can give us, and in what form. We won’t push him in anyway, we don’t want a repeat of earlier.”

Theo nodded.

“On that note, I would suggest that you stay here until Gerald is back up and about. If you need to square it with your father, then Cissa and Lucius have agreed that you can say that you are staying with them and they will cover for you if he contacts them.”

“He’s not meant to be back for another week. I wasn’t anticipating seeing him before I joined you in France.” Theo looked to Narcissa, who gave him a warm smile. “But, I guess, he might come back earlier… in light of the announcement… I’ll leave him a message at the manor in case he does. Are you sure you’re okay with me staying?” He looked to Sirius.

“It’s not a problem at all. We’ll get a room set up. Next on the agenda, Hermione.” Draco watched as Granger appeared to become smaller on the sofa between Harry and Theo. He hadn’t properly taken notice of what she was wearing until he clocked her playing nervously with the hem of her dress. Her legs were bare again, like they had been the other day. She had an oversized grey cardigan on, but the v-neck exposed the top of her chest and, as it slipped slightly to one side, he saw that the dress she was wearing had thin straps leaving the rest of her shoulders exposed. She had a freckle on her - Stop this. Fucks sake. What’s wrong with you?!

“We want to contact your parent’s again. I think it’s best that we leave organising a DNA test with them, so that they can be confident that it hasn’t been manipulated in anyway. But we also think it’s probably best to meet with them in France, with the hope of speaking to your Grandmother as well. Do you think that they’d be amenable to that?”

“Um… yeah. We briefly discussed my Grandmere yesterday when we spoke. I think my parents know that she must have some more information. Whether she knows it or not. She’s… well, she’s been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. I think they recognised that if we need to speak to her, we need to do it sooner rather than later.” She made a small whimpering sound.

“Oh, my dear” Andromeda handed Granger a handkerchief which she took and hid behind for a second as she gathered herself. “I’m so terribly sorry about your Grandmother.”

“You should have said something Hermione” Remus was speaking.

“It was just another thing on top of everything.” Granger let out a sigh.

“How long as she had her diagnosis?” Andromeda asked. Draco didn’t miss that she glanced at the other adults in the room as she spoke.

“A couple of years. It’s why my parents wanted to retire early and move to France.”

Another shared look among the adults.

“Hermione, I don’t want you to misinterpret what I’m about to say,” Draco was jolted by his father speaking, “but, this might help us. Narcissa told me that your Grandmother raised the fact that you were a witch last year, and mentioned a wizarding couple?”

Hermione nodded, keeping eye contact with Lucius. Her eyes were swimming with tears.

“… If there is a chance that she was obliviated at the same time as your parents, it could be that her condition is reversing the effects of the spell. It’s quite common that as the brain changes, for reasons like Alzheimer’s, the effects of obliviation are reversed. Obviously, with the nature of the condition, when memories do return many people pass the sudden admissions of their relatives as part of the disease, not as truth. It could explain why she suddenly mentioned that she knew you were a witch, but hadn’t before then. It may also be easier, as a result, for Severus to access her memories.” Hermione’s eyes widened.

“You think someone altered her memories as well?” Potter asked.

“We have to consider it as a possibility.” Andromeda replied, “I’m truly sorry Hermione.”

Granger didn’t reply, simply jerked her head slightly in recognition of the statement.

Merlin, she was having a rough time of it.

Sirius coughed and looked uncomfortable. Hell, everyone in the room looked uncomfortable after that piece of information. Potter was gripping Granger’s hand tightly. Draco hadn’t truly appreciated how close the friends were, they were so different in many respects. Watching them in class and from across the Great Hall, it always felt like Granger was chasing after the chosen boy and his sidekick. That wasn’t to say that they weren’t her friend, but more that it she was on an unequal footing in some way. Seeing them together without the redhead though… they seemed like Pansy and him.  

“Um,” Sirius gathered himself, “Lucius is going to look into the situation with your magic. I’m not sure we’ll find much, maybe more about you Harry, than Hermione. But he’ll investigate regardless.

“As I mentioned earlier, Remus will help you both adjust to your magic and we’ll have lessons set up regarding the Wizengamot. Theo, Draco, we wanted to open those up to you both as well. I know you’ll likely already have a good background to Wizengamot procedures and the House allegiances but, if you want, you can sit in. We think it would be good for you all to become familiar with the procedural nature of the government and our House position.”

Draco was surprised. He’d been given an informal education about the politics of the wizarding world since he was a child, overhearing bits of conversation at the dinner table, but his father had tended to shy away from his questions as he got older. Apparently sensing his curiosity, his father stepped in.

“It has come to my attention, that I should have been clearer about where the Malfoy’s stand, Draco. I think bringing you into these conversations will be beneficial for everybody going forward.” His father’s face was relatively neutral, but Draco was sure he noticed a flicker of shame.

“We will be meeting with some of the more neutral families in the coming weeks but… first on the list is Longbottom’s. We’ll be meeting with Lady Longbottom in two days.”

Draco was in disbelief, and Theo looked similarly surprised, his eyes jerking around the room to try and ascertain the emotions of the people there. Potter and Granger seemed non-plussed. Draco knew about his Aunt. How she was deranged and locked in Azkaban for her war crimes in support of the Dark Lord. But, more than that, he knew what she’d done to the Longbottom’s. He’d been made fully aware before he started Hogwarts; his parents requesting that he avoid any confrontations with Neville. It had been hard given that the lump of a boy was always fumbling at spells and potions, he positively made himself a walking target, but Draco had given it his best, and tried to stop his house mates from giving him too much trouble in the process. Longbottom was Sacred 28 at the end of the day.

“Harry, Hermione. Before we meet with Lady Longbottom we need to give you more background to our families histories…”

Salazar, they don’t know! He looked at Theo, who didn’t quite know what to do with himself, he was shuffling and, in the end, Draco watched him as he decided to physically sit on his hands, before paying far more attention to his shoes than was needed. 

Sirius didn’t seem to know how to continue and Professor Lupin, Remus, took over.

“As you know, Neville’s parents were part of the Order and we told you that they were tortured by death eaters.” Draco cringed and he felt his parents do the same. Across the room Andromeda was still.

“The death eaters in question were Sirius’ cousin, Bellatrix, and her husband and brother-in-law, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange.”

“Your cousin!” Potter was on his feet and Granger clasped a hand to her mouth.

“Our sister.” Draco hated how his mother sounded. Torn between hatred and familial allegiance.

“Please sit-down, Harry.”

“Neville doesn’t have his parents! And it’s all because of your cousin… your sister!” The boy was pointing at Draco’s mother and Draco made to stand in protest at the disrespect he was showing. His mother placed a hand on his leg to stop him.

“Harry, please…” Sirius was stern, but Draco watched Potter continue to stare at his mother.

“Harry.” It was Granger speaking. “Let them talk.”

The dark-haired boy maintained his glare before blinking and whirling round to take his seat back next to Granger again.

“Our family… our families,” Sirius gestured to Narcissa and Lucius, “have a lot to atone for when it comes to the Longbottom’s. Bellatrix… what she did… by the end of the war she was manic, the very definition of a psychopath; blinded by her allegiance to Voldemort. I was very nearly on the receiving end of a number of her curses in skirmishes and raids. Family? The Sacred 28? It didn’t mean anything to her anymore.”

“But… how? How are we meant to meet with them after that?”

“Harry, we don’t expect Augusta… Lady Longbottom, to forgive us. And she shouldn’t. But, as Head of the House of Black, I intend to set us on a new path. Your Mum was Neville’s godmother. I intend to uphold any duty that she would have had to him, regardless of whether Augusta accepts our apology. Alice and Frank were our friends. Making reparations in whatever form Augusta seems fit is the right thing to do.”

Draco hadn’t realised how close the Longbottom’s had been with the Potter’s and he caught Theo’s eye as he reacted to the information as well.

“Harry,” Narcissa’s voice was hushed, “my sister is not a representative of our family. Sirius, Andromeda and, to a minor extent, myself, are testament to that. What she did to Alice and Frank Longbottom, was worse than murder and, although once upon a time she was a beloved sister, she stopped being that a long time ago.”  Her voice shook as she tried to control her emotions. Lucius had her hand caught in a firm grip, his eyes never moving from her face. 

“I… I’m sorry. It’s just….” Potter didn’t know what to say.

“… We only found out today. Neville never told us about his parents… we knew he lived with his Grandmother, but he never told us why.” Granger was dabbing at her eyes again with the handkerchief Andromeda had given her.

“I imagine this feels very close to home.” Andromeda directed her question at Harry, “In that he doesn’t have his parents, just like you.” Potter seemed startled.

Draco wondered whether she’d done a course in mind healing at some point in her past, because his newfound Aunt seemed very good at reading a room and asking the right questions.

“Yeah…” Potter was running his hand through his hair, “… but it’s different. I get special treatment. I’m the shiny ‘Boy-Who-Lived’.” He scoffed and grimaced in a way that intrigued Draco. “People feel sorry for me because my parents died. But Neville, no one pays him any mind, he’s living with it just like I am!”

“That may be out of choice Harry. He chose not to disclose this information to you or Hermione and, I’m presuming, to others in your house. Obviously, certain families, the Weasley’s for example, will know about his parents, but he clearly made an active choice not to tell you. Probably because, unlike you, he has had the opportunity to hide from the label a certain portion of society will have no doubt given him.”

Draco felt like he’d been given glasses and had his ears cleaned out. How Potter and Andromeda were talking was making him view his nemesis and Neville in a completely new light. He’d always thought that Potter came across as someone relishing in his fame but, from how he was talking now, he seemed resentful of it, irritated that his quiet, clumsy, mousy friend wasn’t being treat with the same kind of respect.

“It sucks.”

“It does pup. But we’re going to make it right.” Sirius was stood in front of Potter, his hand on his shoulder, “Augusta spoke out on our side at the hearing. That suggests to me, that there is room to make amends. That the rift isn’t as deep as I thought. I mean it Harry, we’re going to make it right. The House of Black willdo good again.”

Draco’s brain was ticking. He knew what the common allegiances were in the Wizengamot, but this, this would be a big coup. If the House of Black and Longbottom created new ties and set aside grievances, it would cause massive shifts. The Malfoy’s would be part of that. The ‘grey’ that his parents had spoken about in the past week would be a formidable faction; all led by a leather jacket wearing, muggle sympathising, pureblood with a fortune that could bankroll small nations. That said nothing to the fact that Sirius was clearly friendly with a number of Light families. This was going to completely alter the makeup of the Wizengamot, and Draco couldn’t help but find the idea thrilling.

“So that’s where we’re at. Does anyone have anything they want to add or question?” Sirius took a seat on the arm of the chair Remus was sat on, his arm thrown behind the man.

There wasn’t any movement.

“When do you want me to contact my parents?”

“You should check in with them today whatever the case, just to let them know you’re okay. When you do, if they are happy to speak to either myself or Sirius, then we’ll discuss the situation further then. But we won’t push them.” Remus replied. He was looked to Sirius for confirmation. Which he gave.

“I think Narcissa, Draco and I will be heading off. I have business to attend to.” Draco stood as his father did.

“You good Theo?” His friend was still sat on the sofa, looking a little shell shocked at everything.

“Yeah man, all fine. Thank you for today.” Theo was grinning at him. “You’re the best, brother.”

“No problem mate.” He clasped hands with his friend and pulled him into a one-armed hug.”

“I’ll send some elves to sort a room for you.” Narcissa placed a kiss on Theo’s forehead.

“You spoil me as ever Aunt Cissa. Light greens and white is my preference.” He said it with his signature cheek, but Theo’s arms were around her waist, gripping the fabric of her lilac robes before letting go.

“I’ll be going too. I’ll check back on Kreacher in a couple of hours.” Andromeda gave Sirius a kiss on the cheek and then made her way around the room, giving the other members hugs and kisses as appropriate.

Draco stood next to the fire with his parents, taking a handful of floo powder. He played with the rough grit in his hand but found himself reluctant to throw it into the grate. His parents looked at him expectantly.

“Granger.”

She was stood and flinched when he spoke, her eyes burning as she looked at him; she appeared to be holding her breath.

“What I was going to say earlier? I’m just sorry everything is so rough for you at the moment. That was all.”

His mother reached for his free hand and looked at him with pride.

Granger didn’t break her eye contact with him.

“Thank you.”

In that moment it felt like something between them shifted, just slightly, as her expression softened. He turned to the grate, chucked the floo powder into the chimney, called out for Malfoy Manor and stepped into the flame.

Hermione didn’t know what to make of Malfoy’s statement. She knew that she had been quick to presume that he was going to say something horrible upstairs, but it wasn’t like she was just going to forget the years of snide comments and bullying he’d inflicted her to. Her reaction felt engrained. After all he was still a spoilt little rich boy with a superiority complex. Wasn’t he? Yes, he was. But, in that moment, stood in front of the fireplace, wearing the jumper that he had willingly accepted from Harry and worn without comment, he seemed to have genuinely meant what he said. Something felt different.

Andromeda left soon after, having checked on Gerald first, and with a promise to Theo that she would be back soon to make sure that the elf was okay. After that, Harry, Theo and Hermione were left to their own devices. Both Sirius and Remus seemed to have hit a wall in terms of their energy levels, and retreated upstairs, so the kids made their way back into the garden to enjoy the afternoon sun.

Hermione was pleased to see that Theo and Harry seemed to be getting on remarkably well. She was currently sat watching Theo cajole Harry into retelling his experience in the Chamber of Secrets. Although Harry had been reluctant at first, she knew that his will power was no match for Theo’s nagging, and sure enough, he soon succumbed to giving a detailed breakdown of his third experience battling Voldemort. Harry was a good orator, starting his tale at the very beginning with Dobby’s first visit and Theo was a very appropriate, captive audience. As the two boys settled into the conversation, she took the opportunity to relax slightly, closing her eyes and tilting her head in the direction of the sun. She was passively listening to the story, a drone in the background, but she tried to focus beyond their voices, on the presence of the city beyond the garden walls and the sound of nature carried on the hot breeze.

“Tom Riddle? That’s his name?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you know that?”

“No, my father just referred to him as the Dark Lord. All ominous and the like. Knowing he’s just called ‘Tom’ kind of takes the fear factor away. Ol’ Tommy boy. Tom Tom. Tomster.” Theo chuckled. Harry’s laugh in reply made Hermione grin to herself.

“Yeah, Voldemort is just part of an anagram of his actual name. Pretty pathetic when you think about it. ‘I am Lord Voldemort’ equals ‘Tom Marvolo Riddle’. He just didn’t want to use his father’s name because he was a muggle.”

Hermione had heard all of this before and kept her eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of the warmth on her skin. She knew she tanned easily, and loved returned from France with more freckles than usual. She always felt more confident post-summer holiday, so no harm in getting a head start. The garden was tranquil, and the surrounding walls held back the light wind that she could hear rustling its way through the leaves on the trees at the end of the garden. She was paying attention to the shivering of foliage when she became aware of the lull in Harry and Theo’s conversation. Theo hadn’t replied. She kept her eyes closed, waiting for him to say something but when the silence continued, she opened one eye slightly. Through squinted eyelashes, she could see Theo gazing into the distance, past Harry, his face thunderous. She opened her eyes fully and sat herself up.

“Nott, what’s up?” Harry tentatively moved his chair closer to Theo.

“Theo?”

“He… he had a muggle father?” Theo voice broke, torn between anger and disbelief.

“Um, yeah… that’s what the diary version of him said…”

“That absolute fucker!” Theo jumped up and kicked his chair backwards, it wobbled on its back legs before falling to the floor with a clatter. Harry jumped back in his own chair at Theo’s abrupt behaviour.

“What the hell Nott?”

“He’s halfblood! Fucking Lord Voldemort, blood supremacist extraordinaire, is a fucking halfblood?!” Theo had his back to them, resting his forearms on the stone balustrade, his hands clasped behind his neck.

“Theo, langu-“

“Seriously, Mia!”

“Um… yeah. Yeah, he is.” Harry said quietly.

Hermione rose to go and stand behind Theo, placing a hesitant hand on his back.

“It’s all lies. Everything my father has ever said, ‘the Heir of Slytherin’, ‘the one to restore the pureblood order’… He tried to indoctrinate me to a cause and he didn’t even know anything about the fucker leading it.”

“People think he’s a pureblood?” Harry had remained sat down. It wasn’t a question, so much as a statement. A realisation. Hermione looked to him and could tell that he was thinking the same as her. What could this mean for dispelling the thinking’s of his followers? Theo’s father was inner circle wasn’t he, if he didn’t know, who else didn’t?

“Theo, how many people think he was pureblood?”

Theo turned back around, placing his elbows on the rough stone so he could lean back and looking Harry dead in the eye.

“The entire ideology is based on blood purity. I grew up being told about how the Dark Lord was the Heir of Slytherin. How could you question that kind of title? How could the Heir of Slytherin, championing the wiping out of halfbloods and mud-… muggleborns, be anything other than pureblood? I’m telling you, the way my father speaks, he mustn’t know. Surely, they can’t know. Right?”

“Holy fuck.” Hermione began playing with a strand of her hair.

“Hermione? You swore?!“

She rolled her eyes at Harry.

“She does that all the time, Potter.” Theo rolled his eyes, like Harry had said the stupidest thing in the world, “Why does the fuck have holes?”

“Not those kind of holes- Ugh! I’m not in a position to give you an insight into muggle religion right now. We need to tell Sirius and Remus. Do you think they know?” Hermione was buzzing. She knew that this wouldn’t change the way that many pureblood households thought. Whether or not he was a pureblood, they still agreed with his doctrine. But it would raise questions. It would cause doubt. This was information that could be leveraged.

“Who else do you think knows Harry?” she spun to him. He seemed to be in shock, not quite keeping up with her stream of thought.

“Um, I dunno. Dumbledore? He taught Riddle, so he must have known about his parentage.”

Hermione nodded and she heard Theo scoff behind her.

“Anyone else?”

“No idea. What’s with the face Nott?” Harry was looking irritated.

“Oh, just that your precious Dumbledore appears to have been keeping back some information for himself… again.” He bit out, “Do you know what that kind of a revelation might have done in the war? All of the ‘neutral’ houses that might not have been so neutral?”

Theo was right. Yet again, Dumbledore could have done something to prevent trauma and anguish and, apparently, he hadn’t.

“No, people must have known? … He must have told people?” Harry was scrambling in defence of his mentor.

“Call Sirius.”

Harry got up to head into the house.

“Do it using the godparent bond. Might as well. Practice and all that.” Theo huffed and lifted himself to sit on the balcony.

“I don’t know how.” Harry spit back. Hermione was irritated that, where they had been getting on so well earlier, now Harry seemed to have his guard up again.

“Think of Sirius, send a message.” Theo shrugged.

“That’s stupidly simple.”

“Didn’t say it would be hard. Just try tune into him. You should be familiar with his magic now you’ve lived with him for a bit.” Theo didn’t seem offended at how Harry was talking to him.

Hermione watched Harry scrunch up his face and tried to ignore Theo grinning at the sight.

“Okay. I think I did something.”

“How do you know?” she asked.

“I dunno, it didn’t feel like just a thought. It felt like it had purpose and then it was gone.”

The three of them sat in an odd silence for a bit, waiting to see if it worked and, lo and behold, Sirius and Remus stepped out of the sunroom and onto the patio.

“We felt like we should check in on you.” Sirius announced, he looked slightly dishevelled, but less stressed than earlier.

“Is everything okay? You all look very tense?” Remus made his way to Hermione.

“Um… yeah. I tried to call you using the bond.” Harry looked self-consciously at Sirius, suddenly unsure about whether he should have interrupted whatever Sirius and Remus had been doing. “Theo told me how.”

“That’s what it was? You did it! That’s amazing Prongslet!” Sirius ran to Harry and pulled him into a hug, before pulling back to hold Harry’s face in his hands. Hermione caught Theo’s eye as he mouthed ‘Prongslet’ at her.

“I felt a sudden urge to come downstairs and check in. I couldn’t explain it! We can work on it to make the intention more focussed… so next time I know why I’m suddenly stopping…” Sirius stopped as Remus coughed, “… so I know what I’m walking into.”

Hermione blushed, now knowing full well why Sirius looked more unkempt than earlier.

“You mean, it actually worked?”

“I think so, yeah! Well done Harry,” Sirius hugged him again, “And thank you Theo for getting him going.”

“No worries, Lord Sirius.”

“You know, I’ll chuck something at you if you don’t stop calling me that?” Sirius raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“You know, I’ll duck? Don’t let my height deceive you, I’m nimble.”

 Remus interjected. “Before you start chucking things at our guest and my ex-student, Pads… Harry, why don’t you tell us why you wanted Sirius to come down here. Or were you just testing whether the bond worked? It’s fine either way.” Hermione could tell the last sentence was given to try and ease the increasing guilt that was covering Harry’s face.

“It was me. Well. It wasn’t exactly me. But I made Mia and Potter realise something that might change things.” Theo stepped forward.

“Okay?” Sirius was intrigued. Remus stayed in his position at Hermione’s side. She turned to look up at him,

“The death eaters don’t know Voldemort’s halfblood.” She said. Remus winced slightly at her us of his name, before his eyes grew dark.

“Excuse me?” There was a rumble in the back of his throat, and he looked dangerous.

“Tom Riddle. Voldemort. He’s a halfblood. He told Harry in second year when he was possessing the diary. Harry was telling Theo about the Chamber of Secrets and we realised, well, actually, Theo reacted weird, and then we realised, that his followers didn’t know…” Hermione continued looking at her godfather. “That’s big isn’t it.”

Neither Remus or Sirius spoke for a while. An uncomfortable about of time. This was clearly news to them as well.

Remus spoke first, “Yes. This is big.”

“What do we do?” Hermione asked. Remus was staring at Sirius, their eyes locked, their faces making minute movements as they appeared to decide wordlessly how to proceed.

“We don’t do anything.” Sirius finally spoke. “Not yet. We need to take this information away and decide how best to use it.”

“Thank you for telling us. And well-done Harry for using the bond.” Remus offered the boy in compensation for the fact that they weren’t jumping into action to spread the word at once. The two adults descended down the steps into the garden and began a whispered conversation stood in the overgrown grass.

Great, just another thing to add to the list of plans.  

Chapter Text

Sirius and Remus had remained talking with each other in the garden for quite a while longer, pacing across the lawn and creating tracks in the long grass. Patterns of eight and zigzags began to emerge the longer they spent discussing… well… whatever it was they were discussing. Hermione wasn’t sure.

“Do you think they’re okay?”

The three teenagers were all leant against the stone balustrade watching the two men. Hermione and Harry shared a look, before Hermione answered Theo’s question.

“I think we just keep throwing curveballs at them.”

“Yeah…” Theo sighed, glancing into the house. Hermione presumed that he was thinking about his elf and feeling bad for bringing him to Sirius’.

“He’s happy to have you here you know. I actually think he’s relieved.” She elbowed Theo in the ribs. He made a slight huff in reply.

“She’s right.”

Theo had looked up when Harry spoke.

“I really think he means for you to be part of the family. At first, I thought it was just because of Hermione, but now I think it’s beyond that. I saw how he looked when he was talking about you and Gerald. He… he looked caught in a memory.” Hermione was surprised at how astute Harry had been. She’d clocked Sirius’ reaction but only momentarily. But then, maybe the godparent bond meant Harry was more in tune with how Sirius was feeling? Sirius had looked haunted.

They stayed on the patio for a while longer, before the two men walked back to the house calling them to follow.

Sirius decided take Harry to work on the godfather bond a bit more and Remus led Hermione into the kitchen to call her parents. Theo was given the option of where he wanted to go, his room still in the process of being made up, and, in the end, he settled for sitting at Hermione’s side on the kitchen bench as she rang her parents.

Hi Mum, it’s Hermione.

Oh, hello sweetheart. Hang on, I’ll get your Dad.

Okay…

[pause]

Okay, your Dad’s here as well.    

How are you doing cupcake?  

I’m good. Um… we went shopping with Harry this morning to get him some new stuff and then we got McDonalds and came back to the house. Theo… Theo came round and then yeah, I’ve just been relaxing.

That’s good…

How are you?

We’re… getting to grips with everything.

[Pause]

I -

No, hang on cupcake, we need to say something.

[Pause]  

We need to let you know that we consider you our daughter, no matter what. I’m sorry about how we reacted yesterday. After talking about it more last night, we want to let you know that, we’ve decided that we don’t want to do the DNA test.

  But-

If your wizards can give us memories that tell us what happened, we’re happy to go through that, but we’ve decided, in this world, we don’t care. In the ‘muggle’ world, you’re our daughter and we don’t want a DNA test result in writing telling us otherwise. We think that would be too much for us.

Are you sure?

Hermione dear, we’re happy to continue as we have been. You are our daughter. Sirius was going to adopt you, which meant he had some legal protections over you in the wizarding world. We trust him. I can’t explain it, but we do. He can still hold his position as guardian within your world, as long as he doesn’t impede on how we raise you. We will still have primary decision making. You are ours. You’re our daughter and we don’t want a piece of paper to tell us otherwise, even if it is the case.  

We’d like you to come home if you’d like to, darling?

Of course! I love you both so much. Can I come home today?

We’d like that.

Um… can Remus chat to you?

Yes, put him on.

Hermione handed the phone over and proceeded to hear only one side of the conversation.

I caught parts of Hermione’s side of the conversation, but I can’t say that I followed.

…

I see, are you happy to proceed like that? I see… we can discuss that more when we drop off Hermione. As long as you know there’s no pressure from our side whatsoever.

…

No, not at all, Sirius is happy to continue as was. There are a few matters of wizarding family etiquette he’d like to get Hermione up to speed on. It would help in the long run. And I know he’d like to get to know you both better.

…

No, nothing like that. Just lessons on the Wizengamot – our government – a bit of background in the upper-class culture. It would be good for Hermione when it comes to future careers and networking.

…

Yes… When Sirius said he was… yes… money won’t ever be an issue.

…

I’ll bring her back this evening.

…

We did want to discuss meeting with you in France, if that is still a possibility? We will be heading out to near Limoges; Sirius’ family has a property in the area.

…

Yes, that’s what we’re thinking. I’m so sorry to hear about Hermione’s Grandmother. She told us today. I hate to ask –

…

Yes, we thought the same. If she’s happy to meet with us, we’ll arrange that. But if not, we completely understand.

…

Just let us know closer to the time. We’ll be out there for our family vacation regardless.

…

No… I’m sorry Helen, we don’t have a cure either.

…

Don’t worry. We’ll do what we can.

…

I’ll bring Hermione back around 5, we can chat more then. Do you want to speak to her again?

“Hermione?” Remus held out the phone for her.

Hey, me again.  

Hey love, we’ll see you later today.

Yep, I’ll see you then.

We love you.

I love you too.

[Click]

“Are you okay?” Remus’ eyes were flicking between the phone in her hand and her face. Theo generally seemed awestruck by the whole event, having never seen a phone before.

“Yeah, just seems so surreal. I feel pulled from pillar to post.”

“Are you okay with them not pursuing the DNA test? They said they had some more to discuss with us about it.” Remus asked. He was perched on the end of the table, one leg raised, foot on the wood and his chin resting on his knee.

“Yeah. I think so. I mean… I guess magic has proved who I am in that regard. And, they’ve been my parents, all of my life. They raised me. So… what more do we need to know on the matter? I am who I am. They’re right, I just want to know how. A DNA test won’t change the fact that, for me, they’re my parents.”

“Come here.” Remus stood and gestured for Hermione to go to him. She did and he pulled her into a tight hug. “You Hermione, are a magnificent girl. You’ve dealt with this far better than I could ever have imagined. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Remus.”

“It helps that she’s been gifted a remarkably witty, handsome and loveable cousin in the process.” Theo piped up from where he was still sat at the table.

Hermione’s head was resting on Remus’ chest and she could feel the vibration of his laugh against her cheek.

“Quite Theodore. I’m sure that helps.” He chuckled.

Hermione and Theo spent the rest of the afternoon in the drawing room, reading and chatting. They were getting to know each other in a different way to their library sessions at school. An invisible barrier that had, admittedly, been dissolving across the year, had now completely disappeared. Now they were free to know each other fully. It was a pleasant afternoon, and Remus drifted in and out of the room, listening into their conversations and contributing here and there. Harry, tired out after testing the bond with Sirius, joined them after a while and Hermione was happy to take a step back from the conversation, letting the two boys tentatively discover their own friendship.

As five o’clock approached, Remus interrupted the group and informed Hermione it was time to go. Kreacher had packed up her stuff into her trunk and she stood, ready to floo back to her parents. She was nervous. Remus and Sirius were going with her and, although her parents had said they were happy for her to go home, she didn’t know exactly what the mood would be on her arrival.

“If you send Hedwig, I’ll owl you both,” she said to Harry and Theo, “And I can floo over whenever now…”. Sirius nodded in confirmation.

Harry and Theo were flicking glances at each other. It was apparently dawning on both of them that they would be staying with each other, without the friend that linked them together.

“And send some more sweets? The fruity pastilles?” Theo said hopefully. She rolled her eyes.

“You’re going to get diabetes.”

“What’s that?”

“Hermione, we have to go, I don’t want to get you back late.” Remus smiled.

“Are you boys okay in the house alone for a bit?” Sirius said to the two teenagers.

“Definitely.” Harry reassured.

“We’ll be good as gold Lord Black, Sir.” Theo said with a salute, completely negating how serious Harry had sounded.

“Why do I not feel convinced?” Sirius sighed, as Remus laughed.

“Right, we won’t be too long.” Remus turned to the fireplace, handing Hermione the pot of floo powder.  

She stepped into the flame, hearing the echoes of goodbyes from Harry and Theo in the background.

Her mother made a small shriek as she remerged in her family living room.

“Hermione! Sorry, I’m still not used to people stepping out of the fireplace.” Her mother pulled her into a warm hug. It had only been a day, but when Hermione had left the house yesterday, she had feared she would have been away longer, that her parents wouldn’t want her back, that her hug with her Mum had been the last. So, being held in familiar arms felt like bliss.

Remus and Sirius appeared behind her.

“Helen, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“Remus, Sirius. I think it’s going to be a regular occurrence by the sounds of things.”

“Cupcake!” Her Dad entered the room, arms stretched out, and Hermione ran to him, being pulled into a hug that lifted her off the floor. “Gentlemen. Please take a seat.” He gestured to the sofa.

“Thank you, Richard. I hope you’re well.”

“Oh… well, in all honesty, we’re both a bit sleep deprived. We spent a long time going over everything last night after you left.”

“Speaking of which, can I get anyone a tea or coffee?” Helen asked.

“A coffee would be lovely Helen, thank you.” Remus suggested.

“Yes, same for me, thank you Helen.”

“I’ll be two ticks.” Helen got up and disappeared into the kitchen.

“I know that we spoke to Remus and Hermione on the phone earlier, but I think it’s best that we iron some stuff out before we go forward. And I understand that you want to organise a meeting with Colette, Hermione’s Grandmother, in France?” Richard directed the conversation towards Sirius, who nodded.

Hermione’s mum re-appeared with a tray of mugs, a cafetiere and jug of milk.

“I’m afraid we don’t really allow sugar in this house, dentists and that, so I hope you don’t take sugar in your coffee.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, and looked briefly at Hermione, who avoided his eye contact. He’d clearly deduced that the sweets she’d smuggled to Theo were contraband within the Granger’s household. He grinned, before confirming that neither he nor Remus needed sugar.

“So, where would you like to start?” Remus took a sip of coffee, “We want to take your lead.”

Helen and Richard shared a glance. “Well, as we said to Remus earlier, we don’t want the DNA test. We think, emotionally, that kind of verification would do more harm than good for us. I’m sure that, if Severus? –“ Helen looked to Remus for confirmation she’d got the Professor’s name correct, “- if Severus can restore our memories, we’ll know what happened. That’s enough for us. That’s before we even start thinking about the complications of acquiring a private DNA test in the first place. We could do it, but we think it would raise a plethora of problems.”

“In what way?”

Richard took over, “Well, without going all mafia and finding a dodgy backroom physician, any doctor with a brain is going to question why we are suddenly getting a DNA test for our daughter. If we say that it’s because she’s adopted and we’re just curious, that leads into the next issue. We don’t have adoption papers. We’ve looked. At present, from what we’ve discussed, we can’t see that, within our legal system, we have any legal right to Hermione. A DNA test could flag that. What we do have, is a birth certificate, with our names on it. But, as soon as a DNA test is done that is going to be void, isn’t it?”

Hermione was listening in mortification. She had no grounding in the muggle world. She didn’t exist.

“I must admit, I hadn’t taken any of that into consideration.” Remus was rubbing his hand through his hair repeatedly. He appeared to have more of an assessment of the situation than Sirius who wasn’t as familiar with the muggle world. “We could get around the questions from doctors if you were willing to let us magically intervene, but I don’t like the idea.”

“You mean, you could make them forget? No, we want no more magical meddling of that kind.” Richard was stern.

“Of course.”

“Bureaucratically, doing the DNA test will cause issues.” Hermione’s mum squeezed her hand, “We don’t need it.”  

“Are you okay with that sweet pea?” Her father was looking at her.

“Yeah, you’re right. I hadn’t thought about the implications… I…” She couldn’t find words, “I just want to be your daughter.” She said with a whisper.

“You will always be that Hermione. Always.” She was pulled into her mother’s side.

“Okay, so, next steps?” Sirius asked, “We’ll be going to France next week to stay with my cousin. I understand that you vacation around Limoges.”

“Yes, we’ll be in a small town called Confolens as of next Friday. It’s around 40 minutes drive from Limoges. Are you familiar with the area?”

Sirius frowned, “Yes, I know Confolens. You aren’t far away from the Chateau.”

Helen noticed his change in demeanour and sighed, “I guess that in itself ties into the mystery further…” she said tersely. Sirius simply nodded.

They continued discussing logistics together and Hermione began to relax, settling into her mother’s side, glad to be home again.

Harry and Theo stood awkwardly for a moment as their guardians left.

“So… what do you want to do?” Theo was rocking on his heels.

“Um, no idea.”

“Do you think we’ll get pizza again tonight?” Theo sounded hopeful and Harry laughed. He’d found the Slytherin’s reaction to the takeaway last night hilarious.

“I think we might need to curb Sirius’ fast food habit; he’s already had McDonald’s today.”

“What’s McDonald’s?”

“Oh, um, it’s a chain of restaurants that specialises in burgers. It’s not particularly healthy.”

“I’d like to try that one day.”

“You really are okay with the whole muggle thing, aren’t you?” Harry was curious.

“Yeah, it’s a whole different world to what I know. I want to learn.” Theo said with a shrug, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Harry guessed it was to a certain extent, he just hadn’t expected it from a pureblood Slytherin prince. “I want to know everything.”

“I was thinking of maybe cooking for Sirius and Remus, to say thank you.”

“Cooking?”

“Yeah, I… well… they made me at my Aunt and Uncles.”

“But that’s a house elf job?”

“I’m beginning to realise that I was essentially my Aunt’s house elf.” Harry huffed.

“Oh…” Theo frowned for a second, before regaining enthusiasm, “Well, cooking could be fun? I’ve never done it before.” Harry looked up from where he’d been staring at his shoes, to find the curly haired boy bearing a ridiculous grin on his face. Harry immediately lost any feeling of shame he’d had after confessing to how he’d been treated at the Dursley’s. Theo’s energy was infectious.

“We could go to the shop to get ingredients. I saw a Tesco just down the road and Sirius gave me some money earlier.”

Harry wondered how far out of his comfort zone he could push Theo.

“An actual muggle shop?!”

Harry nodded, excited now.

“Kreacher?” Harry called into the room and Kreacher emerged with a pop.

“Yes, Master Harry?”

“We want to cook dinner tonight, is that okay? We’ll go to the shop and get ingredients and do everything.”

“Master… wants to cook? Kreacher has done something wrong? Kreacher is not serving his Master properly.” He bowed to the floor in distress.

“No, not at all Kreacher! You’re great, I love your cooking.” The elf perked up slightly. “It’s just something I’d like to try, to say thank you to Sirius. Kind of like a present… a surprise. You could help us if you want?”

“Kreacher would… help?”

“Yes,” Theo joined in. “You can keep us right.”

“Kreacher is confused. Kreacher can cook.” He grumbled.

“Yes, but this would be us, showing Sirius that we can do something nice. Don’t worry, he won’t be mad or anything.” Harry tried to reassure the elf.

“Kreacher will obey.”

“Great! Thank you.”

“But, Master should not be leaving the house without Master Sirius.”

“We’re only going to down the road.”

“Kreacher will accompany the young Master. For protection.”

“We’re going to a muggle shop though?”

“Kreacher will not be seen. Master is not leaving the house without protection. Master Sirius would not approve.”

“Um… okay, I guess.”

Theo clapped his hands enthusiastically. “This is going to be awesome.” And he let out a ludicrous giggle.

Ten minutes later, the two teenagers, and a disillusioned Kreacher, had exited Grimmauld Place and were making their way to the small Tesco Harry had spotted when they’d gone out that morning. Theo was practically dancing along the street, pointing at each of the cars parked along the curb, and asking questions Harry couldn’t even begin to answer. Each person Theo passed, he greeted with a cheery hello that had Harry looking around in mortification, trying to distance himself from the boy.

When they approached the Tesco, the automatic doors opened, and Theo stood in wonder. He spent a few moments stepping forwards and back, watching the doors react to his presence, until Harry physically pushed him into the store.

“Was that magic?” Theo said under his breath.

“No, that was electricity, and sensors probably. I don’t really know how it works. I’m sure Hermione would.” He shoved a basket into Theo’s hands, trying to give the boy something to focus on in an attempt to calm his energy.

“So, what are we making?”

“I was thinking spaghetti bolognaise. I made it once when Aunt Petunia had a guest over. It’s Italian.”

“I like Italian food.”

“You just like pizza.” Harry chuckled.

“I stand by my statement. Italy gets full marks so far.”

Harry led them around the shop, ticking off the ingredients in his head from memory. Theo was pointing at everything and anything and Harry imagined this was what taking a toddler shopping would be like. And then, he made a mistake, a mistake that any parent with a toddler would avoid at all costs; he rounded the corner down the confectionary aisle.  

Before Harry could stop him, Theo had dashed off, picking up chocolate bars and packets of sweets with wild abandon.

“Theo!” Harry hissed, “Put them back! We’re not getting all of those.”

“But, look! Fruit pastilles in a bag! A whole bag of them! Mia only gave me a little roll. And what are these lacey things?” He was waving a pack of strawberry laces in Harry’s face.

“Merlin, Nott, you’re obsessed.”

“Can we get some? I’ll pay you back!”

Harry sighed, “Fine! But please calm down, people are looking.” Theo’s enthusiasm in general had garnered them some odd looks as they’d made their way around the store, but his display right now was drawing attention.

Theo took the task of choosing what to sweets to get seriously, repeatedly pacing up and down the aisle, taking in all of his options and talking to himself. Harry, in the meantime, decided to get some Maltesers for himself and a bar of Dairy Milk each for Sirius and Remus. Remus seemed to always be snacking on chocolate, so he figured it would go down well. After a while, Theo appeared in front of him, having filled the basket with a variety of different sweets.

Harry looked at the basket, loaded with packets, “Wha- that’s it! I’m calling it. We’re going, before you buy everything.”

It reminded Harry of the time in first year when he’d bought all of the sweets from the trolley on the Hogwarts Express.

“You, Potter, are no fun.”

“I’m beginning to realise what being Hermione must be like…” He grumbled.

They headed towards the checkout, placing the basket on the counter and letting the cashier scan through the items. Theo flinched each time the barcodes beeped, but he kept his eyes glued to the till, watching it add up the cost as each item was scanned.

“You boys having a sleepover? You’ve got enough sweets to keep you going until the wee hours.” The elderly lady behind the counter said while Harry began packing a carrier bag.

“Something like that.”

“Well, I don’t envy you the sugar come down you’ll have if you eat all of these!” She joked.

Theo didn’t say anything, suddenly mute in the presence of a muggle.

Harry pulled his new wallet from his pocket and handed over a crisp £20 and £10 note to cover the cost of the shop. It was the most muggle money he’d ever had on his person before and he felt a sudden panic at spending it. Don’t be stupid. He shook himself out of the fear, received his change and dragged Theo away.

“That was amazing…” Theo was in awe. “There was so much stuff. And so shiny and bright.”

“That was just a small shop. We have supermarkets that are nearly quadruple the size of that place.”

Theo continued asking questions until they got back to the house. Kreacher lifted the wards so that they could enter, and they made their way into the kitchen. Harry unpacked the bags, placing everything they’d got on the table and separated off the mound of sweets they’d selected. Kreacher eyed it all in fascination. The vegetables of course weren’t a surprise, but the tins of tomato, pack of spaghetti and garlic bread seemed to be confusing him.

“Right, Kreacher, we need knives and chopping boards.” Harry said.

Kreacher skulked away, grumbling something to himself under his breath, nonetheless he returned with the utensils, which he handed over reluctantly. Harry chucked Theo an onion and directed him in how to start chopping it, while he started on the carrots and celery.

“It’s like potions…” Theo mused, peeling the skin off the onion and beginning to place precise and delicate slices into the white flesh. He was holding his face close to the vegetable in an attempt to make his cuts accurate.

“Yeah, I guess. You don’t need to be that precise though.”

Theo was quiet for a moment, concentrating on the task at hand. His silence didn’t last.

“Oh fuck!”

“What?”

“Salazar, am I being poisoned?! My eyes are burning.”

Harry began to laugh.

“Stop laughing Potter! I’m dying! Holy fuck! My eyes are leaking!”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Give me your glasses!”

“No! What for?”

“To protect my precious eyes.”

“I’m not giving you my glasses! It’s just the onion juice, you’ll be fine.” Harry continued to laugh as Theo proceeded to attempt to cut the rest of the onion at arm’s length and with only one eye open. He kept alternating which eye every couple of seconds.

“You look ridiculous.”

“You look ridiculous.” Theo grumbled.

“Very clever…”

“Kreacher thinks this is all ridiculous.” The elf muttered to himself, vanishing the carrot peelings and onion skin from the table.

Harry and Theo caught each other’s eye at the elf’s declaration, and both burst into hysterics.

The rest of the prep went relatively well. Harry placed Theo in charge of stirring the vegetables as they sauteed down, before he added the mince and herbs. Kreacher, very reluctantly, found them some elf made red wine to add to the sauce and Harry asked him to place the rest of the bottle on the table for Sirius and Remus to have with the meal.

“What happens now?” Theo asked, keeping up a meticulously timed counter-clockwise stirring motion, while staring intently into the pot.

“It just bubbles on low until we’re ready. The spaghetti only takes ten minutes in boiling water. So, we can star that whenever Sirius and Remus get back.” Harry went to sit on the table, pulling his feet up to rest on the bench.

“You don’t need to stir it all the time, you know?”

“Oh… okay.” Theo went to sit next to Harry. “You’re really good at this. It smells great.”

“I’ve always liked cooking. Aunt Petunia made me do it as a chore, but it was one of the few things I actually quite liked.”

“You’d think you’d be better at potions.” Theo wondered out loud.

“Yeah, well, I spend most of my time in potions trying not to give Snape an excuse to hate me even more than he already does.”

“True… Hey! Maybe now he’s Mia’s godparent he won’t be such a tool to you.”

“Maybe.” Harry wasn’t convinced. He heard footsteps in the hall, indicating the return of Sirius and Remus, they were chatting but Harry couldn’t make out what they were saying until they got closer to the kitchen.

“What’s that smell?!” Harry heard Sirius in the corridor.

“Is that bolognaise? Since when does Kreacher know how to make bolognaise?” Remus replied, as the two men rounded the corner down the steps to the kitchen.

“Surprise!” Theo shouted, leaping off the table and deafening Harry in the process.

“What’s all this?” Sirius grinned, gesturing to the table that had been set and the pan on the stove top.

Harry suddenly felt overcome with embarrassment at his pitiful gesture of thanks.

“Um… I wanted to say thanks for everything so I thought I’d-“ Theo elbowed him in the ribs, “I mean, we both wanted to say thank you. So, we cooked…”  

“You cooked?” Remus had made his way over to the pot of ragu. “It smells amazing guys!”

“Yeah, we managed to convince Kreacher.”

“Potter, Harry, said he did it back at his Aunts… but he actually likes doing it! And I’ve never cooked before. It was fun!” Theo made his way to where Remus was stood.

Harry had noticed that Theo seemed to have an affinity for Remus, gravitating to him in rooms and directing conversations towards him.

“And these?” Sirius picked up a pack of sherbet filled flying saucers sweets from the end of the kitchen table, raising his eye inquisitively.

“Um… Theo went a bit overboard at Tesco.” Sirius and Remus exchanged a panicked look. “We didn’t go alone! Kreacher came with us. He knew you’d be unhappy and made us take him.”

“Okay, well that’s something at least. I’d still rather you didn’t wander around London without an adult, or at least without telling one of us first.” Sirius pulled Harry into a hug and ruffled his hair. “This is great though Pup. But neither of you need to thank me for anything.”

“So, what else needs doing?” Remus asked Theo.

“Um, something about spaghetti? And garlic bread?”

Remus chuckled, rolled up his sleeves and reached for the pack of pasta on the counter before summoning a pot, filling it with water and setting the stove going with his wand. He bashed the packet of spaghetti on the counter, releasing the end, and twisted it in his hands into the pot so it fanned out around the sides. He then checked the temperature of the oven and grabbed the garlic baguette from behind him on the table.

“You cook as well?” Theo said in adoration watching the man.

“Harry’s mum, Lily, taught me; in fact, spaghetti bolognaise was one of her specialities.” Remus said over his shoulder.

“She did?” Harry still couldn’t get over the wealth of information he’d been given about his parents in so small an amount of time. Every new fact was gold dust.

“Yeah, she tried to teach all of us Marauders. Remus was the only one who really got good at it. I find that I much prefer watching.” Sirius was looking at his partner as he took charge of the rest of the meal. Remus scoffed, placed the garlic bread in the oven and shut the door.

Before long they were sat around the kitchen table, plates piled high with food. Theo was given a crash course in how to eat spaghetti and proceeded to find an immense amount of fun twizzling the long threads of pasta on his fork, before shovelling it into his mouth.

“I wuv i-aliam foof.”

“For Godric’s sake, you’re going to choke if you keep eating at that speed!”

Harry was enjoying himself and the food was going down well. He was secretly proud of himself for managing to pull it off from memory. They were close to being finished when they were interrupted by the abrupt appearance of Kreacher.

“Master Sirius, Gerald, the Nott elf is awake.”

Theo began spluttering in his haste to get up and leave the table, Remus hitting him on the back in the process to help clear his airway.

“Okay, thank you Kreacher. Can you let Meda know? We’ll finish up here. Can you make sure he knows not to leave?”

“Kreacher has told him. Kreacher told him that Mister Nott is here and waiting for him. He will not leave.”

“Good, thank you.”

“Theo, sit. We’re going to finish this meal first. Gerald will be there when you’re finished. You’re in my house and I want to make sure that you’ve eaten properly.”

Theo slumped back onto the bench and began picking at his food.

Remus sighed, “Food, and then I guess we move onto the next thing then…”

Chapter Text

Theo couldn’t truly believe how good the meal that he and Harry had made was and had been even more surprised to find that he had liked the process of making it. Besides the fact that spaghetti Bolognese had now been added to his favourite food list, witnessing Remus and Sirius tuck into the food and give their compliments had filled him with an immense sense of satisfaction. It was nice knowing that he’d made something that they’d liked. He had always been someone who found fun picking presents for his friends’ birthday’s and Yule, and he always spent a disproportionate amount of time planning and tailoring his gifts for each person. Cooking for Sirius and Remus felt similar, but it was better somehow, knowing that he had physically made the thing that was bringing enjoyment.

He wasn’t used to eating in such a casual environment. The kitchen was relaxed, the lights dim, bathing the room in a warming glow. Sirius and Remus were chatting about various things they’d read in the Prophet and making plans to meet different members of the Wizengamot. Theo made an effort to contribute here and there; he was able to give them a background to a few of the families he was more familiar with, nothing important, but bits of gossip and family allegiance information he’d picked up from his father and fellow Slytherins. He wasn’t sure how helpful anything he said was, but Harry was definitely paying attention, especially when he talked about the other heirs at school. Harry had seemed surprised to hear him chatting so familiarly about their peers, especially when he started talking about Hannah and Ernie. Yes, Potter, I do know people outside of Slytherin.

 Despite the distraction in conversation however, since Kreacher had announced that Gerald was awake, he had been unable to focus fully. As much as he tried to stop it, his foot was tapping erratically under the table, his impatience to go and check on his friend manifesting itself outwardly.

Finally, out of frustration, he placed his knife and fork on his plate as forcefully as he thought he could get away with, without being outright disrespectful with in his host’s house. He accompanied it with a theatrically loud sigh. That, he did for dramatic effect. Harry startled slightly, but Remus and Sirius took his cue and began to place their own cutlery down. He didn’t fail to notice that they shared a slightly amused glance in response to his performance as they did so.

As if summoned, Andromeda stepped into the room from the fireplace.

“Good evening Sirius, I’m sorry to interrupt your meal, but Kreacher said Gerald was awake?”

“Don’t worry about it, we were just finished here.” Sirius indicated the empty plates on the table.

“Something smells good? This… this isn’t Kreacher’s cooking?” Andromeda was eyeing the table with curiosity.

“No, Harry and Theo surprised us by cooking, and it was bloody marvellous!” Sirius reached over to Harry and ruffled his hair.

“Oh?” The witch looked surprised but gave both boys a proud smile. “Maybe you can teach my Dora? She’s a nightmare in the kitchen.”

Harry laughed and Theo tried to find it in himself to focus on Andromeda’s amusement and not his friend upstairs. He didn’t do a good job. Noticing his demeanour, Sirius rose from the table.

“Okay, Theo, are you ready to go and see Gerald?”

Theo was stood before Sirius could finish asking. He stood so abruptly that the bench he was sat on was thrown backwards, causing Remus to instinctively stand in order to prevent himself from falling off the back of the pew at the momentum.

“Yes.”

“Maybe, just me, you and Andromeda to begin with?”

“Okay.” Theo didn’t want to overwhelm Gerald and that seemed like a reasonable number of people. Remus was stood beside him, recovered from his sudden ejection from his seat, and placed a hand on Theo’s shoulder in support. Theo found that he kind of wanted Remus there, he’d always liked the man as a teacher and he had a calm reassurance that Theo had appreciated in the last few days, but he knew smaller numbers would be better in the first instance.

“Okay, we’ll head up. You guys okay down here?” Sirius asked Remus.

“We’re fine. You guys go. We’ll get this cleared away. Give us a shout if you need anything.” Remus replied, beginning to levitate the empty plates with his wand.

Harry looked at Theo and he felt held by the boy’s stare. Harry’s emerald eyes were full of concern and pity and something else Theo couldn’t place. The Gryffindor jerked his chin upwards slightly in a nod of recognition and Theo did the same before following Sirius out of the room.

Gerald had been placed in a bedroom on the third floor, apparently next door to Kreacher’s own room. The corridor felt dark and musty; not touched yet by Narcissa and Andromeda’s meddling renovation plans. The Black elf removed the wards on the door and let the group enter.

Gerald was sat upright on a low bed, his small frame dwarfed by the lumpy bedding he was pinned under. Theo was shocked at how small he looked. The light wasn’t great, and he looked positively grey in the shadows of the room. When Gerald saw Theo enter, he made a futile attempt to scramble out of the bed, but Theo made sure that he was at his side in an instant, preventing the fragile elf from exiting his resting place.

“Master Theo. Gerald is so sorry. Gerald must be given clothes. I have brought shame on the House of Nott.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! You don’t need to apologise and I’m definitely not giving you clothes! Are you okay? Are you hurting?” Theo held Gerald at arm’s length, trying to get a good view of his head to check on where he had been wounded earlier.

“Gerald is much better. Gerald is ready to work… Gerald is ashamed.” The old elf’s ears drooped as he spoke.

“You don’t need to go back to work right away. I’m just glad that you’re okay.”

“But Master-“

“Theodore is right, you have nothing to be ashamed of. We are happy to have you here, Gerald.” Sirius stepped forward.

“Lord Black. I am honoured to have been given care in your house.”

“You know me?”

“Gerald knows Lord Black from when he was small. I remembers Lord Black and his brother. And Miss Black.” Gerald looked at Andromeda hesitantly.

“I am Mrs Tonks now, but you can call me Andromeda. May I check over your vitals?”

Gerald looked to Theo, asking for permission.

“Andromeda helped you earlier, she can check you now.” Theo reassured.

“Gerald would be grateful.”

Andromeda cast a number of diagnostic spells. Theo didn’t truly know what the various projections that appeared in front of him meant, but he found their presence was calming, nothing seemed to jump out at him as negative and Andromeda and Sirius’ reactions reinforced that.

“I am happy to say that you are all cleared, Gerald. I would advise taking it easy, but I appreciate that isn’t my call to make.” Andromeda looked to Theo.

“He’ll take it easy.” Theo was sure. He wasn’t going to make Gerald do anything strenuous for a good while. Maybe never again. No, Gerald would argue with that… maybe just for the next day or two.

“Then I am happy to trust him to your care, Theo,” Andromeda smiled at him. Theo knew that she looked remarkably similar to her sister Bellatrix, he’d seen pictures, but she had a warmth and kindness that he imagined her sister never had. She felt comforting, like a hot meal at Hogwarts on a rainy day.

“Meda, would you stay for a moment while we ask Gerald some questions?”

Sirius had said it quietly, but Gerald’s ears had heard him, and Theo felt the elf tense in the bed.

“It won’t be anything you can’t answer. I promise. We won’t push. We just, I need your help.” Theo promised, settling into a cross-legged position on the floor next to the bed.  Despite his low position, he still managed to be almost eye level with his elf.

“Gerald will try, Master Theo.” Gerald sounded unsure and Theo didn’t blame him. Whatever happened next, he was desperate not to inflict anymore pain on his friend.

“I, um… I command you not to hurt yourself in response to anything I ask. Is that okay? If you can’t answer, please, just tell us.”

Sirius had suggested earlier that Theo make this command in order to prevent a repeat of this morning. He received a nod of recognition from Gerald.

“I told you this morning that I’d found out I had a cousin.” Theo approached topic hesitantly.

Gerald nodded.

“She’s called Hermione Granger. She’s a girl in my year, but she’s been brought up by muggles and has only just learnt that she was adopted. You see, Lord Black tried to adopt her in gratitude to a life debt he owed her, but the Black family magic recognised that she was already a Black. Her father was Regulus Black and her mother was my Aunt Lysa. So… Did you know that Aunt Lysa had a child?”

Gerald shook his head.

“But something I said this morning made you react? Was it something to do with Hermione?”

“Gerald does not know of Miss Hermione.”

“But you know something… was it about Aunt Lysa?”

“Gerald cannot say what Master.” He began to tremble slightly.

“Did you know Aunt Lysa was pregnant.”

“No, Master Theo.” His trembling subsided. This was apparently an easier question for him to answer. Theo banked that information and he saw Sirius and Andromeda make the same conclusion.

Theo frowned, he had been positive that Gerald must have been privy to something about Hermione.

“Um…” He couldn’t think what else to ask, “Was it Aunt Lysa who told you not to tell anyone about ‘whatever’ it is you know?”

“No, Master Theo, not Miss Lysa.”

“Was it your Mistress Selene?” Sirius stepped forward.

Gerald looked to Theo, his big eyes watering.

“It’s okay, you can answer Sirius… only if you can though,” Theo reiterated.

“Mistress Selene asked Gerald not to say, made Gerald promise.”

“Did it involve my brother? Regulus Black?” Sirius perched himself on the edge of the bed.

Gerald shook his head. “Gerald did not know Regulus Black well. Just as a boy.” Gerald seemed sure at that. No hesitation or uncertainty in his answer.

Sirius looked bemused. This hadn’t been how they’d expected the conversation to go. They’d been sure that Gerald would have some information about Lysa and Regulus. Andromeda was thinking intently, and Theo caught Sirius’ eye, widening his eyes slightly in a request for help. He didn’t know where to go from now. He didn’t know what to ask.

Sirius sighed in resignation, “Okay, thank you for your help Gerald, we’ll let you rest now. I’ve had a room made up for Theo so that he can stay here tonight, and you are welcome to stay as well.”

“I am in your debt Lord Black, and youses too… Mrs Tonks.” Theo didn’t love that his elf clearly had issues with Andromeda, no doubt through his father and his previous servitude to the Greengrass household. They’d have talks about that later.

“It’s not a problem at all Gerald, I’m just glad that you are better.” Andromeda replied, never wavering in her politeness, “Come on Theo, let’s leave Gerald to rest.” She held out an arm to indicate that Theo should exit the room.

“I’ll pop in before bed.” Theo reassured Gerald, before giving him a hug. It felt odd for a moment and he realised that he probably hadn’t hugged Gerald since he was a small child. After a moment or two however, he was overwhelmed by the feeling of familiarity and memories rushing back. The surprise from Gerald reinforced his assessment, the elf was stiff in Theo’s long arms.

“Thank you, Master Theo.” Gerald’s voice quivered as he exhaled, before relaxing into the embrace, his small hand patting Theo's back affectionately.

Theo stood.

He was about to leave before he felt the urge to ask a final question.

“Is it that you saw something to do with Aunt Lysa? Did something happen to her?”

“Theo…” Sirius cautioned.

Gerald began to shake in the bed.

“Gerald… can’t…” his petite hands were grasping the bed covers tightly, scrunching the fabric and releasing it on repeat.

“I’m sorry, Gerald. Please don’t answer.” Theo rushed out and Gerald calmed.

“I am sorry, Master Theo.”

“It’s okay. Please just rest.”

Sirius led them out of the room, and they made their way back downstairs in silence.

“Any luck?” Remus asked as they re-entered the kitchen.

“Not really. Turns out it was Selene who swore him to secrecy, but that makes sense considering his family allegiances. He didn’t know that Lysa was pregnant, so his reaction this morning must have been in response to something else and whatever he can’t tell us doesn’t appear to relate to Regulus.”

“He saw something.” Theo mumbled. It was the only thing that made sense. “He saw something he shouldn’t have seen, and my Mum made him promise not to say what. But it has to link to Hermione, right?”

The adults all shared a look and Theo wasn’t naïve enough to know that that they weren’t presuming it was something bad.

“Why don’t you boys go check on whether Theo’s room is ready?” Sirius suggested to the room.

 It was a dismissal and Theo didn’t feel in a position to argue when he was staying in someone else’s house, but he was desperate to know whatever it was Sirius was thinking.

“We want to know whatever it is that you’re discussing.” Harry spoke on Theo’s behalf. He was glad of the back-up. It was his mum, his Aunt, his cousin. He wanted to know what they were saying.

“You said earlier that you wanted to keep us in the loop.” Theo added.  

“Yes, but not for speculation. When we get to the bottom of this, you’ll know. I thank you, Theo, for your help today, and I’m sorry that it came at the expense of injury to your elf. But, let us chat about this together first.” Sirius was stern and Theo knew there wasn’t any point in pursuing the point. Harry made a low grumbling noise from his position next to the sink. He had a tea towel thrown casually over his shoulder. Had he washed the dishes like a muggle as well?

“Fine.” And Harry made to leave the room, chucking the towel onto the table as he exited.

“It’s the room next door to Hermione’s.” Sirius sounded downtrodden.

“Thank you, Lord Black, Sir.” Theo had meant for it to sound like a joke, like the other times he refused to call Sirius by his first name, but instead it sounded bitter. “I didn’t mean –“ He tried to apologise.

“Don’t worry Theo.” Remus placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll let you know if we figure anything out.”

Theo followed Harry out of the kitchen. However, when he got to the stairs, he paused and purposefully stood on the bottom step, making it creak under his weight.

“What are you –?” Harry was aghast.

“Wait.”

The curtains in front of Walburga’s picture opened slowly.

“Hello Lady Black, it’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

“You are the Nott child? You were with my newfound Granddaughter?”

“I have the honour of being her cousin.”

“Do you follow your grandfather and father’s ways?”

“Not at all Ma’am.” He stood tall as he replied.

“Then I see you disappoint the House of Nott, as Sirius did my own house.”

“Ah well, that would depend on what we consider a disappointment dear Walburga…”

“You insolent child! To call me by my -”

“What I mean to say is that, I simply figured that following a halfblood wasn’t quite what our house had in mind.”

Harry wasn’t moving next to him, watching the interaction with curiosity.

“A halfblood? You dare to slander the Dark Lord’s name!”

“Oh?” Theo interjected, “Did dear old Riddle not make you privy to his heritage? Son of a muggle apparently.” Theo made a show of picking some imaginary dirt from under his nail.

“You lie…”

“Not so Ma’am. It appears not all is as it seemed. A bit of a conman that Dark Lord of yours.”

“What proof do you have?” The witch spat. Theo was sure that, had she not been a painting, his face would have been speckled with her saliva.

“None at present, but we’re looking into it.”

“Does this have something to do with my Granddaughter?”

“Not really,” Theo shrugged, “Although… Regulus and Lysa clearly felt like she needed hiding… maybe your boss had something to do with that? It meant she grew up with muggles.” It was all bluster, and Theo didn’t really know why he had felt the urge to rile up the painting.

“Any child of the House of Black would have been safe in the Dark Lord’s circle!”

“Hm… would they?” He directed his eyes towards the kitchen where Sirius could be heard talking with Andromeda and Remus.

The witch scowled.

“I find this conversation tedious.” And with that her curtains closed, and the hallway went silent.

“What the hell was that Nott?”

“I just felt like it… And she might be useful in the long run. I figure I can wear her down.”

“Well, give me some warning next time.” Harry exhaled and began to proceed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

“There’ll be a next time? Are you expecting me round again?” Theo teased.

“You have a room here now, don’t you? Seems I’m stuck with you.”

“A hardship I’m sure you’ll grow to love.”

“Whatever.”

Theo took pleasure in the fact that there was no bite to Harry’s reply, just exasperation, in the same way Draco would respond to him when he was getting tired.

Progress.

The room that Narcissa had put together was perfect. She’d followed his joking suggestion of a colour scheme and it was comfortable and homely. It wasn’t dissimilar in style to Hermione’s room; expensive furniture, plush bed coverings, amber lights. He knew he wasn’t staying at the Black residence permanently, probably just the night, but he was happy to have a new space that felt like another home. He was collecting them. He had a room at Malfoy Manor already, and at their Chateau. He could now add Grimmauld Place to the list. There was a feeling in his gut he couldn’t explain that told him that, at some point, he’d need them.

“So, we’re no further forward.” Sirius grumbled. Like Theo, he had been sure that they would have been able to get more from the elf.

“I’m not sure how much you thought you were going to get out of Gerald. You know what the binds on house elves are like,” Andromeda soothed.

“I know, I know, I- I just thought maybe there’d be something.” Sirius sat heavily onto the kitchen bench.

“Theo’s right though, Gerald saw something.” Meda was rubbing the palm of her hand with her thumb.

“Because that isn’t ominous at all…” Sirius grimaced. “At least it doesn’t seem to be to do with Regulus.”

“What did he say about Reg?” Remus asked.

“Nothing. Said he remembered him as a child, but that wasn’t even to do with our questions. Gerald just recognised me before we even started asking him anything. When I asked if the ‘secret’ had anything to do with Reggie, Gerald just shook his head and said he didn’t know him well.”

“He didn’t know Lysa was pregnant. So, he must have seen something before she became pregnant. Right?” Andromeda questioned. She was working out a timeline in her own head.

“A conversation possibly? Maybe he overheard Lysa and Selene talking?” Remus suggested.

“Possibly.”

Andromeda moved to the fireplace. “There isn’t much point dwelling on it. We aren’t further forward, but we aren’t further back. Siri, you should try and relax this evening. You’ve been through a lot since your release. You need to take it easy.”

“Thanks Meda.” Sirius rose to kiss his cousin on the cheek. “And thank you for everything with Gerald.”

“It’s not a problem Sirius. Evening Remus.”

“Night Meda.” Remus said from his position at the kitchen table.

Once Remus and Sirius were alone in the kitchen Sirius turned to his partner.

“I don’t think it’s good.” He exhaled, pulling his hair free of the hair tie it was held in.

“How do you mean?”

“I just have a feeling. I don’t think it’s just a conversation that Gerald saw. He seemed so… scared when he was asked about it.”

“That could just be a result of the compulsion. We saw what he did to himself trying not to answer Theo’s questions…”

“I guess. I dunno… it just felt different.”

“Come on Pads,” Remus kissed him on the forehead, “Let’s get the fire going in the drawing room. I’ll put on some music, we’ll introduce the boys to Bowie and we’ll just enjoy the evening.”

Sirius let out a long sigh, tilting his head to the ceiling as he did so.

“As you wish.” He grumbled under his breath.

Remus let out a loud guffaw, taking Sirius by surprise.

“Okay, remind me to put Princess Bride on our ’to watch list’.”

“What’s Princess Bride?”

“A film. You’ll love it.” Remus kissed him fully on the lips, distracting him momentarily from any thoughts of mysterious nieces, secretive elves and double agent spies for brothers.

Harry and Theo had chatted for a bit longer in Theo’s room for a while and then joined Remus and Sirius downstairs. They listened to records Sirius had dug out from his old room and eased into each others company, until it became obvious that the Slytherin wanted his own space. Harry and Theo both retreated to their separate bedrooms for the night. No sooner had Harry began to relax on his own bed than he had received a knock on his door, and he found the gangly teen, awkwardly on the threshold of his room asking to borrow some pyjamas. Harry found some of his new stuff, neatly folded away by Kreacher, and said goodnight. Thinking back on the day, as he lay in bed, he couldn’t believe how much had happened. Since leaving the Dursley’s, everyday had been a whirlwind of events and his brain was struggling to keep up with everything that was going on. A random intrusive thought made him realise that both Malfoy and Nott had now ended up wearing his clothes. The mortification that Malfoy probably felt when he had chucked him the red jumper made him smile involuntarily. Jesus, had it seriously been less than a week since he'd left Privet Drive?

He woke up the next morning at an appropriate time, and breakfasted with his godfather, Remus and Theo. Theo looked tired, shadows under his eyes and his skin paler than usual. Harry was surprised that he was suddenly so familiar with the boy to notice the change in his complexion. The Slytherin’s appearance definitely wasn’t un-noticed by Remus, who casually handed Theo a Pepper-Up potion at the same time as giving Harry his own regime of morning vials. Harry gave Theo a reassuring glance and indicated to the number of solutions positioned in front of him on the kitchen table, before downing the first vial. Theo followed suit.

Gerald appeared in the kitchen not long after they’d finished up breakfast, ready and willing to serve his Master again. Harry found it endearing watching Theo and the elf have a back and forth about what the elf would be permitted to do in his recovery; it was such a different dynamic to how he’d seen Sirius interact with Kreacher. The two guests left the house later that morning, after a prolonged discussion and a reassurance from Sirius and Remus that they were both welcome back whenever they needed.

‘They had the protection of the House of Black’.

And then, just like that, Harry was alone in the house with Remus and Sirius.

It was less than a week into the summer holiday and Harry found himself at a loss of what to do with himself. Back at the Dursley’s he would have been given daily tasks; cleaning, gardening, cooking; but here he was free to do what he wanted. He’d never had this kind of freedom. Suddenly, the summer holidays looked long.

He chose to floo call Ron. 

Mrs Weasley’s face appeared in the fire.

“Harry dear! What a surprise! It’s so lovely to see you! Are you well, can I send over some food?”

“Thank you, Mrs Weasley, I hope you and Mr Weasley are well? No need to send food, Sirius is fattening me up.”

“Arthur will be glad to hear that you’re doing okay. Are you sure about a meal? It’s no trouble on my part, a home cooked meal can do wonders?”

“We’re more than fine. Sirius’ house elf is pretty adamant about cooking. Thank you for the offer though, Mrs Weasley. Is Ron around?”

“Of course, dear.” Mrs Weasley’s head retreated from the fire and he could hear the faint echo of Ron’s name being called. He took the opportunity to reposition himself into a more comfortable position on the drawing room carpet.

“Um, hello?”

“Hey! Ron!”

“Harry! Oh wow. I didn’t realise you could call?!”

“Yeah, Sirius has everything set up. Floo call, floo visit… everything.”

“Oh, sweet.” Ron seemed unsure.

“Did you get my letter?”

“Yeah, thanks. Absolute madness though. All the stuff about Hermione. I can’t believe it’s true. Mum and Dad have been talking about it non-stop.”

“Yeah, she’s had it pretty rough. We still don’t understand it all. Sirius and Remus are trying to find out what happened. It turns out her parents, I mean her muggle parents, didn’t have a clue.”

“Like, they were obliviated?” Ron was suitably shocked.

“Looks that way. And Theo’s elf seems to know something, but we don’t know what.”

“Theo?”

“Oh, yeah, Theodore Nott. He’s Hermione’s cousin, so he asked his elf if he knew anything and he had an entire freak out. It was a whole thing.”

“… Like Tiberius Nott? Is it safe to be talking to him?”

“We aren’t talking to Tiberius. Just Theo. Hermione and he became friends because of that Ancient Runes project, you remember? So, they were already talking.” Harry didn’t know why Ron’s question had his back up, but he felt suddenly defensive of the Slytherin, “He’s a good guy.”

He heard Ron scoff on the other end of the fireplace. But his friend didn’t pursue whatever was going through his head.

“So, what happens now? I guess it makes sense why Hermione is so good at classes.” Ron sighed.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she’s pureblood, isn’t she? She’s been beating everyone in the year with her grades.”

“The fact that she’s pureblood means nothing.” Harry could feel a weight sinking down in his chest.

“No, I know, I mean, it just makes more sense doesn’t it?” Ron sounded cheerful, almost pleased.

“No… it doesn’t. She’s good because she works hard.”

Why was Ron being so weird about this?

“Well, yeah, I mean sure she does. But, I dunno, she’s always been so good at school.”

“How good Hermione is at school has nothing to do with the fact she’s pureblood." Harry snapped, "If you think that way about magic… I dunno… do you think that muggleborns aren’t as good as pureblood?” Harry was seething.

“Wha- No?! That’s not – That’s not what I was saying. It was just – I dunno…. No, obviously Hermione’s great regardless.”

“Why is dear Hermione great?” Ron’s visage was shoved to the side and Fred, or was it George, appeared in the flame. Ron groaned in the distance.

“Is it because she’s the brightest witch of our age?” A second twin appeared. George, no, was it Fred?

“Is it because she’s so far out of dear old Ronikin’s league?”

Harry heard someone, presumably Ron, land a hit on the twin currently in the flame and he saw them flinch, but not before winking conspiratorially.

“Or maybe… because she’s Mademoiselle Lady Black now?” George/Fred replaced their brother.

“Hey guys.” Harry said cheerily, laughing at their double act. “She’s just great cos she’s Hermione. Care to give the fire back to Ron now?”

“That she is. She’s our one and only swot machine. Snooty, fancy parents doesn’t change that. And we are, of course, at your service, Lord Potter Black sir…” Both faces re-appeared, before saluting, flourishing their arms in a bow and leaving the fire open for Ron. Harry wondered whether they’d heard his and Ron’s conversation before they interrupted, but they, at least, didn’t seem to think Hermione was talented based on her blood status.

“Sorry about those guys.”

“Nah, it was nice to see them. Sorry for getting all worked up about Hermione. She’s just…. She’s just Hermione, you know? Even if she was muggleborn, it doesn’t stop how clever she is. It seems silly to think that, now we know about her parent. It doesn’t change anything. I mean, it’s not like you or I are top of the class, and I’m halfblood and you’re pureblood.”

Even through the glow of the flame, Harry felt like he could see his friend’s ears turning slightly redder.

“Yeah. Sure. Um. So, what have you been doing? What are you doing for the rest of the holidays? Dad said something about getting tickets to the Quidditch World Cup! We could all go?”

And the conversation was diverted, and Harry spent the next hour chatting to his friend about the upcoming World Cup. He didn’t mention to his friend that a lot of the information that he was regurgitating he’d been given by Malfoy the other day. Ron seemed happy enough and they left the call with an agreement to arrange a casual quidditch match at the Burrow and for Harry to ask permission to attend the Quidditch final, if Mr Weasley got the tickets.

Harry didn’t move from his cross-legged position on the floor after finishing the floo call, but decided to lie down, his back to the floor, legs still crossed, staring at the rose cornicing surrounding the chandelier on the ceiling. It had been a pleasant phone call overall but how Ron had spoken about Hermione had jarred with him.

“I heard what he said about Hermione.” Harry stiffened, but didn’t move in reaction to Remus’ voice.

“Ugh. He didn’t mean it.” Harry felt that in his bones. He was sure Ron didn’t think that way. Did he?

“No, I think he might have done. And that’s okay.” Remus said lightly.

“It’s not okay!” Harry fumed. “We’re meant to be better than that!”

“Go on…”

“We’re Gryffindors. We don’t do the whole ‘blood supremacy’ stuff! That’s Slytherin. And then Ron is there, suggested Hermione is only better at magic because her parents were pureblood? How can he think that?” He rolled himself over onto his stomach, he still hadn’t looked at Remus and was instead staring intently at the floor and pulling at the threads in the carpet.

“I need you to know I don’t support how Ron is thinking. Not in the slightest. Hermione is… miraculous. That's not to say that you couldn't give her a run for her money if you put your mind to it." Harry could hear a smile on Remus' lips, trying to lighten the mood. When it didn't work, he continued, "I’m sure that Ron fully supports the right of muggleborns to be part of our world, but, and this is a big but, and influences a lot of things, at the end of the day, he has grown up solely in the wizarding world. And, although his parents are classed as blood traitors, they are also pureblood, he is pureblood, they have engrained values that trickle through, regardless of how liberal they think they are being. I can’t imagine that, beyond Arthur’s job, either of his parent’s interact with muggles on a day to day to basis. That isn’t Ron’s fault. That’s the world he lives in. I’m sure he doesn’t really think less of muggleborns. He just doesn’t know. His parents don’t have the life experience to have been able to tell him just how silly some of those thoughts are.”

“It’s not how it sounded.”

“You know, James went through this whole thought process? It was a whole drama in our dorm.”

Harry’s head snapped up and he saw Remus lowering himself to the floor, his back resting against the side of the sofa, legs stretched in front of him.

“Yeah. Your father had a moment or two at school where he wondered about your mum. He wondered how she was so clever. And she was, you know? She was just like Hermione, studious and always in the pursuit of knowledge. Top of her class in most things and furious when she was topped in the few subjects that she wasn’t first in. And, James asked questions about that." He said it with a shrug, "It wasn’t that he was anti-muggleborn, neither were his parents, so it didn’t come from them, it just… it just wasn’t something he was used to. He didn’t grow up around muggleborns. The idea that muggles can have magic is still a unknown and drastically mis-understood thing. We don't appear to want to investigate how it happens, society would rather think of it as a glitch in the system than a natural event.”

“Hermione’s just Hermione.” Harry mumbled into the carpet, still face to the floor, playing with the strands of fibre.

“That she is. And I’m sure Ron will see that. Everything’s been a shock, to everyone, and people are reacting in different ways.”

"Why don't we know more about where magic comes from? So that we can stop the prejudice against muggleborns?" Harry asked. 

"I don't know. Maybe it's something you can bring up in your lessons about the Wizengamot?" Remus encouraged. 

Harry didn’t feel entirely settled by the knowledge that his father had been sceptical about his mums magic, but he could understand, slightly, that the wizarding world’s reaction to muggleborns was going to be a long term mission, and not one just confined to the pureblood elite. It just sucked that his best friend had been the one to make him realise it.

The rest of the day passed smoothly. They went out on a ‘dog walk’ – Sirius was insistent that he wanted to go and stretch his legs ‘properly’ - so Harry found himself in a park, chucking a stick and chasing Sirius’ animagus dog form around, while Remus sat on a bench with a book. Later, they ate dinner together and listened to music until Harry was instructed to go to bed.

Lady Longbottom and Neville were coming over tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Narcissa, Lucius and Andromeda arrived at Grimmauld Place, late morning, in anticipation of House Longbottom’s arrival. The sisters were both visibly nervous, and Narcissa was comforted in the knowledge that it wasn’t just her fidgeting. She was trying to pool on her years of etiquette training in order to still her nerves, but was struggling to apply it effectively. She couldn’t stop herself from wringing her hands and, every so often, her perfectly manicured nails would dig into the flesh between her forefinger and thumb, leaving half-moon marks on her porcelain skin.

Andromeda, she noticed, was no better. Her sister had pulled her hair into a low bun, her wild curls, lighter than Bella’s hair by a degree, but still remarkably similar, were tamed by the up do, but Meda was constantly fiddling with the pins holding her hair back and Narcissa knew why. She could easily see through her sister’s thought process; Meda was terrified that a stray curl would escape and remind Lady Longbottom of the cause of her family’s pain. Neither woman knew how this meeting was going to go or how their presence would influence the conversation, and both were keen to avoid anything that would increase hostilities. In contrast, Sirius and Remus were calm. It made sense; after all, they were both more familiar with Lady Longbottom, and her son and daughter-in-law. On top of that, Remus also knew the Longbottom heir through his short stint at Hogwarts. It was a mild comfort to Narcissa, but not sufficient to ease her anxiety. Lucius looked stoic, as usual, any concerns hidden behind a face of stone, but she knew that he was uneasy about the meeting, having discussed the matter at length in bed the night before. Harry, at least, not knowing what to expect out of the family session, was relaxed in comparison.

At noon, exactly as the grandfather clock in the hall chimed, the doorbell rang. Sirius had given Lady Longbottom the address of the property rather than floo authorisation, as per the proper etiquette for a formal first meeting between houses; the greeting at the house threshold being a show of trust. Remus was quick to silence Walburga, while Sirius made his way to greet his guests. The remaining occupants of the drawing room stood with bated breath.

Sirius guided Lady Longbottom and her grandson into the drawing room. There was a slight pause, and Narcissa watched as Harry broke the momentary standoff by giving his peer a small wave. The Longbottom child looked equally nervous about the entire affair, stood behind his Grandmother, wearing smart robes that bore the Longbottom crest. He appeared timid, a shock to Narcissa, who had thought that, with a woman like Augusta Longbottom as his guardian, the boy would be as strong and as forthright as she was. She had heard Draco make some offhand comments about the boy but hadn’t expected this. The child was tense, twitching as much as she was. She turned her attention to Lady Longbottom, as was appropriate being the Head of her House. The elderly witch was wearing long robes made up of a dark purple, heavy fabric. They weren’t in the current fashion and felt eerily familiar to the style Narcissa’s mother and Aunt used to wear; an assessment that was reinforced when she noticed that Andromeda had flinched in similar recognition of Lady Longbottom’s silhouette. She had a dark grey shawl wrapped around her shoulders, her silver hair was pinned up, and a small hat in a matching colour to her robes was resting on her head. She was older than everyone in the room, which could have lent itself to a meekness, but instead she held a domineering presence, both of her gaunt hands resting on a walking stick baring a metal bear head.

Sirius took the lead as head of the hosting house,

“Lady Longbottom, Heir Longbottom, may I introduce my adopted son, Harry, Lord Potter, my fiancé, Remus Lupin, my cousins, Mrs Andromeda Tonks and Lady Narcissa Malfoy, and her husband, Lord Lucius Malfoy. The House of Black welcomes you and are grateful for your visit.”

Narcissa and Andromeda curtseyed as they were introduced, and the gentlemen bowed.

“The House of Longbottom thanks you for your invitation, Lord Black. I hope you’ll forgive me for not curtseying, my knees don’t treat me as they should after all these years.” The woman bowed her head in deference to her host.

“Please, take a seat, can I get you a drink?” Sirius guided the woman to the sofa.

“A gin and tonic if one is available. I’m partial to the muggle drink.”

It read like a test and, if it was, Sirius passed, asking for clarification as to her preference of gin. Names of muggle manufacturers Narcissa had never heard of were suggested, before Lady Longbottom finally settled on her drink order.

Kreacher was called and further drink requests made. A silence fell as they awaited the arrival of their beverages. When Kreacher re-appeared, the Longbottom child jumped and Narcissa noticed a flicker of disappointment on his Grandmother’s face.

Drinks now in hand, Sirius took the first move to approach a further conversation.

“May I first express my gratitude to yourself for supporting my announcement of guardianship over Harry. Your comments were invaluable in the hearing.”

“The entire affair was becoming tedious. My comments were not required. You are the boy’s legal guardian.” The witch responded, raising her glass in acknowledgment of Sirius’ gesture and taking a quick glance at Harry. Narcissa wasn’t oblivious to the fact that the witch was studying the boy. He held her gaze for a second before bowing his head out of respect. Narcissa wasn’t sure what kind of whistle-stop-tour on pureblood etiquette Sirius had given to his new ‘son’, but it worked, the elderly witch broke her study in approval.

“Regardless. Your support was appreciated all the same.”

“Shall we get to the crux of why I am here?” The woman’s voice was lower than any female in Narcissa’s usual circle, commanding and coarse in the room.

The Black sisters glanced between themselves, unsure from the matriarch’s tone of voice where this was heading.

“The Black family are at your disposal, Lady Longbottom.” Sirius was holding himself in an official manner and, although he was doing a good job of not showing it, Narcissa could sense that he was as uneasy as his cousins.

The two teenagers had shared a glance, unsure what was meant to happen next.

“Oh, for Godric’s sake Sirius, call me Augusta, boy.” Augusta snapped, “You did so enough during Order meetings. I permit you to continue with your habit. As long as you don’t resort to calling me Gus Gus. As you know, I found that positively horrendous.”

“I remember. My hair was red for a week.” Sirius replied with a wry smile.

“Well deserved.”

“I can’t say I was a fan.” Remus chipped in, grinning.

“If I remember rightly Remus, you encouraged him. So, I would say the punishment was fitting for the both of you.” She raised an amused eyebrow.

“Well, Augusta, it’s good to see you again.” Remus grinned.

“And you too, my boy. You are looking well. Neville was most unhappy when he learnt that you wouldn’t be returning as his teacher next year.” Remus gave Neville an appreciative smile before Augusta swung to focus her attention back on Sirius, pivoting on the cane held out in front of her. Narcissa eyes were drawn to the indent it was creating in the carpet.

“Sirius, I would first like to express how horrified I was to find that you were incarcerated wrongly, for so long, without trial. I congratulate Mr Potter and his friends on bringing your innocence to light.”

“Thank you. It was, it is, something that will be investigated in full.”

“Are you to heading up the investigation?” Augusta turned her stare on Lucius, carpet twisting, her hand still clamped on her walking stick. Her stance almost mirrored Lucius’ hold on his own cane. Silver snake versus the silver bear.

“Not myself directly, Lady Longbottom. We are leaving the investigations to the appropriate Ministry departments. I will represent Lord Black, and I have meetings with the Minister and the DMLE lined up in order to ascertain how Lord Black was placed in Azkaban without a trial.”

“Lucius, let us all forget the titles. Please. It’s tiring and I’m old. I have no time for tiring things.” Augusta let out a sigh of tedium.

“Thank you… Augusta.” Lucius conceded. Narcissa knew already that Lucius hated the lack of title, it felt too informal in the presence of a family that did not commonly align with theirs, “We have confirmation from the Ministry that investigations are being made into Sirius’ arrest and into the placement of Harry with his Aunt and Uncle.”

“And your life with your Mother’s family was as described by Sirius at the hearing?” The cane twisted into the carpet again, her question directed at Harry.

“Yes Ma’am.” Harry tried not to look Augusta in the eye and Narcissa didn’t blame him, her eyes were piercing and scrutinising. They narrowed slightly as he reinforced his answer. “It wasn’t good.”

“Well then. I am glad you are now with family who care about you.”

“Thank you, Lady Longbottom.” He replied. When she levelled him with a stare again, he corrected himself, “Augusta.”

The other members of the room watched the exchange; Remus gave Harry a reassuring bow of his head.

“Augusta, we want to make compensation... no, compensation isn’t the right word… we just… we want to do whatever we can to attempt to… What Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers did was unspeakable.” Sirius hurried out before hanging his head, he wasn’t able to look at either the matriarch or her Grandson.

Neville flinched and his head shot down as well, looking to the floor.

“Sirius, I know that you had nothing to do with the events that left my grandson without his parents. When you were arrested, I knew in my bones that something was wrong, and I have had that confirmed by the Wizengamot hearing. You have nothing to compensate for. What I need to know is about your cousins…”

“I vouch for them.”

Sirius’ voice was calm, but resolute, and Narcissa had to focus on not getting emotional at his declaration of support. Not a week earlier he had been lost to her, and yet here he was… She felt like she had done as a child, when the boy, years younger than her, would scurry her away from leary old men at family functions, with comical excuses and silent ‘fuck yous’ to the men involved. Ever the protector.

“It seems that you do. Although, you will acknowledge, it is a surprise to many in our circles.”

“What would you like to know, Lady Longbottom?” Narcissa spoke. She tried to sound strong, as the Lady of the Malfoy house should sound, but her voice wavered in the room.

“Augusta, dear.”

“My apologies, I didn’t want to presume that the request extended to… us.” She gestured to Andromeda and herself, “What would you like to know? My sister and I will tell you anything willingly. We are deeply ashamed of Bellatrix’s actions and do not consider her a sister of the House of Black.”

“I thank you for your words, but as everyone within the Sacred 28 knows, Andromeda here,” a paper-thin skin-stretched hand was waved in Meda’s direction, “has been the sister cast out of the family for decades, and not Bellatrix.”

“I was not in a position to oppose the decision made by my parent’s regarding Meda… Andromeda. It is not something that I ever supported. In the same way that I never supported Sirius’ expulsion and in the same way that I prayed for my husband to be spared from the life of a death eater.”

“And yet, Lucius,” Augusta pivoted on her cane again, “You bare his mark on your arm. We’ve heard the tales about the imperius curse but, forgive me if I am not so naïve as to believe them. Where do you stand?”

Lucius stiffened in his seat beside Narcissa. They knew that this question was going to come and had decided to be honest. His reply was recited as they’d discussed.

“I stand for the House of Malfoy. I do not pretend to deny that I believe in the importance of the wizarding world. I acknowledge and believe in the retention of the customs that have been passed down over the generations. But I do not presume to ignore the obvious requirement to bring new blood into our world. I have numerous businesses, some based in the muggle world, many however are formed in alliance with families associated with the Dark. I do what I must to straddle the in between. If you have followed my voting record, you will see that the House of Malfoy has been a background supporter for many progressive initiatives. Maybe, we have not been…overt in our support, but I can provide receipts to our actions, evidence of how we have encouraged the right people.”

“I… I bare the mark on my arm out of love for my wife, out of a desire to be there, to protect her in an environment I knew neither of us would survive alone. She is my light. I took the mark at the bequest of my parents. It was not in support of the Dark Lord, but a sacrifice in order to ensure that I could keep Cissa and my future family safe.”

Lucius’ voice was trembling and Narcissa reached for his hand. She knew how uncomfortable such an honest confession would be for her husband. The man with gravitas that would normally bring a room to its knees was cowering in front of an elderly woman, bearing his past and his heart in front of her. She wasn’t remiss to notice that Neville was looking at the Lucius in a state of shock, and she was proud to see that her husband didn’t flinch at the knowledge that he was being ‘seen’ by two teenagers. Instead, he held his head proud and kept eye contact with Lady Longbottom.   

“Thank you, Lucius. I have followed your voting record.” She didn’t elaborate, “Meda, I am to believe that the reunion with your sister is fresh?”

“It is, Augusta.” Out of their group, Andromeda appeared the most comfortable using the woman’s forename, and Narcissa was reminded that, like Sirius, due to the first war, they had a relationship outside of this meeting.

“As a result of learning about Sirius’ innocence, Narcissa and myself have reconnected. We have spoken at length, through legilimens and standard conversation, and I am understanding of the position Narcissa, and Lucius, were placed in during the first war. I recognise and accept the decisions Cissa made. I do not approve of everything that the Malfoy family stood for, and we have a lot to work through, but I am happy that she has reached out again. We remain sisters. In contrast, however, I know, unequivocally, that neither of us endorse Bellatrix and her actions. Bellatrix is not a sister of the House of Black anymore.”

Meda looked to Narcissa, and she nodded. It hurt. It hurt, but it was right.

It had hurt when Narcissa had seen her sister begin to regurgitate the madman’s words. It had hurt when she had seen her sister shut herself off. It had hurt when her sister had broken Andromeda’s trust and informed their parents about her relationship with Ted. It had hurt when Bella had watched, without emotion, as Andromeda was cast out of the family. It had hurt seeing her descend into a state of madness, not recognising friend or foe. It had hurt seeing her name decorating the Daily Prophet on a regular basis. It had hurt when she had watched her gleefully talk about removing Sirius from the family for his ‘betrayal’. And it had hurt when she was arrested for the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom. But this… this hurt in a finalistic way. Right now, they were agreeing that she had hurt them enough that she wasn’t one of them anymore. The hair plaiting, the games of hide and seek, the tricks they played on the elves… the secrets they told each other as children, the pranks they played at school, the unified force Narcissa had felt when the Black sisters walked down the corridors of Hogwarts together… those memories were all tainted. They were gone. After this, Bellatrix was gone. Her imprisonment in Azkaban was nothing in comparison to this; she wouldn’t be one of them anymore. Sirius would make sure of that. And that hurt.

“She is not a Black anymore.” Narcissa said it with conviction, making sure to lock eyes with Augusta. She didn’t know what the matriarch saw in her, but she jerked her head slightly in recognition.

 Sirius jumped in.

“Andromeda and her family are being restored as members of the House of Black. Bellatrix will be removed. She will no longer be a Black.” Sirius spoke. Augusta continued to look at Narcissa, as if expecting her to retract her position, Narcissa only raised her chin higher in confirmation of Sirius’ statement.

“I also intend to honour the role of godparent to Heir Longbottom, in lieu of Lils… Lady Potter, being able to fulfil that role. Neville will have the backing and protection of the House of Black in her stead. I would also like to cover all financial costs in respect of Fra… in respect of Lord and Lady Longbottom’s care.”

Sirius flinched and Remus reached for his hand. Neither of the two gentlemen looked up and Narcissa knew why. This was raw. Neither had dealt with this properly. They were talking about their friends.

Augusta indicated for Neville to reply. He stood, bowed to his benefactor and accepted his guardianship and thanked Sirius for his financial support.

“The House of Longbottom would like to extend the same guardianship to Lord Potter, should it ever be required, in lieu of Lady Alice Longbottom being unable to fulfil that role.”

Harry, encouraged by Sirius, did the same as Neville. Standing to reply, bowing and accepting the guardianship. Narcissa felt proud at how he carried himself in that moment, knowing how overwhelming the entire situation was likely proving itself to the boy. Draco would have had a lot to say.

“I would like to know more about the Black family’s position, going forward, in regard to our current political affairs.”

Sirius shuffled slightly in his seat before standing, he was always an exhibitionist and, apparently, standing as he spoke set him at ease.

“We position ourselves neither within the factions of Light or Dark. We have history of both in our House, and within our allegiances. We stand by the right for muggleborns and halfbloods to be part of our society. We will champion for the rights of halfbreeds and will lobby for better departmental support and acknowledgement of their position in society. We will also stand by our ancestry and the importance of upholding the beliefs of our ancestors in regard to House Magic and our customs. We do not deny the risk of muggle technology to our society but, would urge for a better understanding, rather than an outright expulsion of muggleborns from our world. I was in Azkaban for thirteen years and, even prior to my incarceration, I was already questioning which elements of muggle technology would benefit our world and which technology should intimidate us. Imagine the progress that has taken place within the muggle world since? In contrast, from what I can see, our world hasn’t changed. The Black family would suggest a more open cooperation between our governments, especially in respect of weaponry, medicine and world history. Not for political gain or for warmongering, but because we, the wizarding world, do not know enough. We are a minority in the country, in the world, and we are being left behind. We need to be progressive. But I do not want to lose our culture. I want to protect our culture.”

“That’s quite the manifesto, Lord Black.”

Narcissa held her breath, noticing her cousin incline his head slightly and raise his eyebrows, a strand of hair artfully falling over his forehead. It was his charm offensive; she’d seen it before.

“I think the House of Longbottom would like to align with your politics… Sirius.”

Sirius exhaled fully and Narcissa felt her posture drop in relief.

“And what of House Potter.” Augusta was looking at Harry again.

“Harry will be learning more about the Wizengamot over the summer and what his role as head of house entails. He will then be appointing someone to act as his proxy while he is at school.” Remus answered on his behalf.

“House Potter aligns itself with the politics of House Black.” Harry spoke with conviction. They hadn’t discussed this, but Sirius looked proudly at his godson as he made his declaration.

“Then House Longbottom stands with you as well, Lord Potter, as we have done in the past.”

“I thought we’d agreed on first names, Augusta…” Narcissa’s eyes widened as the boy replied with a smirk and winked at the elderly lady. He winked!

Augusta’s stern face twitched, before twisting into a smile. “I see you’re influencing him already Sirius.”

“I’d take credit, but I think that’s all inherited from James.” Sirius laughed before stilling.

The mention of his dead friend snapped Augusta back to attention.

“Returning to the matter at hand. We expect the expulsion of the other Black sister from the family. That is not up for debate. We would also expect a public announcement to the same effect and a separate one to acknowledge Andromeda’s return to your family. It should be made clear that the acts aren’t taking effect as part of some deal; that they are happening regardless of each other.”

“They will be made separately. We will make it clear that the one act wasn’t reliant on the other.”

“Harry is welcome at our house as often as he likes. I will make floo access available. I will expect to hear from you in anticipation of any Wizengamot sessions in order to discuss the policies and bills being put forward, and I would like to know which other houses you are making allegiances with.”

It was a dismissal and ending of the meeting. Narcissa wouldn’t have been surprised if Augusta creaked when she rose, the weight being placed on the cane was evident by the dent it left in the carpet. She’d have Kreacher look to repair that later. Harry and Neville retreated to the side to have a quick chat while the adults concluded their conversation.

“The invitation is offered in kind. Harry is going to be taking some lessons over the summer. Some… well, he needs to practice with his magic as a result of some things that have come to light.” Sirius didn’t go into greater detail and, although it was clear Augusta was curious as to the implications of his statement, she didn’t pursue it. “He will also be learning about the Wizengamot. We intend for Hermione to be part of those lessons. Neville is more than welcome.”

“Ah yes. The mystery Black child. Neville has spoken a lot about her. She seems to be quite the witch.”

Narcissa couldn’t help from commenting.  
“She is a remarkable girl. Hermione is… she’s brilliant.” She didn’t mean to get choked up, but her head snapped away from the elderly woman and she chewed on her lip in order to stop herself from reacting further. “She has the support of our family, both the Malfoys and Blacks, but we respect that she is still Hermione Granger, child of Helen and Richard. We don’t intend to change that.”

Stormy blue eyes met calm seas as the two women read each other’s intentions.

“I see that.” Augusta finally said, knocking her cane on the floor to finalise the conversation. “We are done here.”

“Gus… Apologies, Augusta, before you leave… I need to know why you came to my support in the Wizengamot session? Against Albus.” Sirius had his hand on Augusta’s sleeve, stopping her from leaving. It wasn’t a straightforward question; there was a sense of something hanging in the air that Narcissa felt to her bones.

Where do you stand?

Augusta reached out her hand a cradled Sirius’ face.

“He let you suffer in jail, boy. And he decided that my grandchild, my son and my daughter-in-law, didn’t need protection. A decision made on no one’s authority but his. Albus Dumbledore is not my friend.”

She called for Neville and Sirius escorted her to the door.

While the adults talked, Harry took the opportunity to chat to Neville briefly.

“Hey Neville, how’re you doing?”

“Yeah, I’m good, this is all a bit mad though. Gran never brings me to these kind of House meetings.”

“It’s my first. I didn’t really know what to expect.”

“Oh, yeah… I’d never really thought about the fact that you were Head of House Potter. It kind of got lost off with everything else.”

Harry huffed, “I didn’t even know that all this House stuff was a thing... and I didn’t know about…” He didn’t really know how to bring up Neville’s parents.

Neville shook his head aggressively, “I don’t like to talk about it. People either know or they don’t. I learnt a while ago that, if they do know, then they don’t mention it out of pity and if they don’t know, well, I’m not going to tell them. Don’t worry about it. It’s just… I’m used to it now.” Harry could understand.

“It’s cool you’re learning about the Wizengamot though.” Neville changed the subject abruptly. “Hey! You can join the heir get togethers!”

“There’s get togethers?” Harry didn’t feel convinced.

“Oh, well, not really. Just, whenever there is a formal ball or party or something, we all tend to be sectioned off to get to know each other.”

“Do you know Theodore Nott?”

“Not very well, but I’ve chatted with him a bit. He seems like an okay guy. Why?”

“Hermione-“

“Oh Merlin, he’s her cousin, isn’t he? Wow.”

“Yeah, we’ve seen him a bit recently, him and Malfoy. It’s just an adjustment.”

“I bet. He’s pretty decent. Even Malfoy’s not terrible. He keeps himself to himself. How is Hermione?” Neville’s face was full of concern, “I wrote to her, but I haven’t heard back yet.”

“I saw her writing you a letter the other day, so I’m sure you’ll hear from her soon. You know her, letters are like essays.”

Neville chuckled.

“She’s okay though, I think her parents are managing with it better than we thought they would. We still don’t know much about how it all happened.”

“No-one knew?”

Harry shook his head.

“Fuck, that’s rough.” Harry was shocked to hear Neville swearing, and his face betrayed his surprise.

“I do swear sometimes, Harry…”

Harry was reminded of the promise he had made to himself to branch out with his friends more. He really didn’t know Neville that well and even this short conversation was showing a different side to the boy he thought he knew. He seemed confident and relaxed despite the formal circumstance of the meeting.  

“Apparently so!” Harry laughed, “It’ll be good to see you over the holidays, now that I can get out and about. We should do something. And, yeah, if you want to come over for the lessons Sirius is arranging that’d be awesome. I know Hermione would like to see you.”

“Seriously? Yeah, that’d be great. You’ve seen me in school, any extra help I can get Is needed.” Neville fiddled with his robes.

“Don’t be silly, you were great in Defence this year!”

“That was all Professor Lupin though…”

“Did I hear my name?” Remus walked over, pulling Harry into his side.

“Neville was just saying how you helped him with Defence this year.”

“You’re more than welcome to attend Harry’s lessons this summer.”

“Harry just offered, thank you. You really were the best teacher. I’m sorry you won’t be back next year.”

“Thank you, Neville. It’s just the nature of things,” Remus shrugged, “Feel free to write to me in and out of term time with any questions you have though. I’m more than happy to help out.”

“Oh, wow, thank you, Professor.”

Before Remus could reply Augusta stepped in, calling Neville away to be escorted out of the house by Sirius.

“See you Harry, I’ll write!”

“Bye Neville!”

“That went well. Better than we thought it would at least.” Lucius commented, settling back into his chair.

“What did she mean about Dumbledore not protecting Frank and Alice?” Andromeda asked.

“Nothing that can be discussed now.” Sirius glanced towards Harry, and Narcissa clocked that the boy quickly understood the insinuation, he wasn’t going to be part of that conversation.

“I need to ask, Sirius, how would you like the House of Malfoy to play the political field going forward? If the Black family pursue the manifesto as you laid out to Lady Longbottom, it very much falls in the middle of the political spectrum. Do you want the Malfoy’s full backing, or would you like us to court the Houses to the darker side of the Wizengamot first, before announcing our position?” Lucius deferred to Sirius, and Narcissa was proud that he did so without grudge or hesitancy.

It was Remus who replied.

“I think you’d be best easing into your alliance with Sirius slowly. I imagine the families will take better to the transition if it comes as a natural progression. That is to say, if you wish to follow the House of Black’s example?” He rose a sceptical eyebrow and the scars on his face glinted as the skin on his face moved.

“I, we, would be happy to support the kind of platform that you put forward to Lady Longbottom. But yes, it will be easier to get you the support of the other Houses if I pick my battles in the first instance.” Lucius agreed.

“She’s scary.” Harry offhandedly commented, and Narcissa smiled at him, “Maybe scarier than Aunt Petunia on one of her bad days. Now I’m surprised that Neville’s boggart wasn’t the other way around. She might by scarier than Snape.” Harry looked to Remus who grinned.

“Professor Snape, Harry…”

“What do Gus Gus and Snivellus have to do with one another?” Sirius was stretched back on the sofa, arms spread across the back of the upholstery.

“I wish you wouldn’t call him that Sirius. You aren’t at school anymore.” Narcissa sighed, taking a sip of her drink. Honestly, could childhood grunges not be suspended.

Sirius pouted.

“Harry?”

“Harry.”

Where Remus said the boys name discouragingly, apparently knowing what was to follow, Sirius was cajoling. Harry looked to Remus, who finally nodded before mumbling something about being murdered in his sleep.

“So,” Harry was enthusiastic, and Narcissa looked to Lucius who was suppressing a smirk of amusement at the messy haired boy, “In our lesson about Boggarts, Remus found a Boggart and had us all confront it to practice the spell and Neville’s was Professor Snape!  But, Remus made Neville dress him in his Grandmother’s clothes as part of the counter-spell. It was brilliant! Talk of the school for weeks.”

Narcissa levelled a stare at Remus. He shrugged slightly and looked sheepishly at a patch of his sleeve.

“And you wonder why Severus doesn’t like you.” Lucius drawled, although he was clearly stifling a grin. “Which outfit did Neville pick?” he added a second later to Narcissa’s horror.

“Lucius!” Narcissa tried her hardest to give her husband severe stare, but she knew she was falling short.

“Vulture hat. Handbag.” Harry offered up willingly.

Sirius, was bent over in stitches and Lucius joined him, causing both Narcissa and Andromeda to devolve into laughter at the sight of the two men.

“I didn’t think you still had it in you, Remus!” Sirius was wiping tears from his eyes.

“I lived with the man for the best part of a year. I needed to get some relief somehow.” Remus replied.

“Children! You are both children!” Narcissa tried to scold the two men, but there was no bite to her voice.

“It was brilliant though.” Harry joined the conversation again and she smiled at him.

“I’m sure it was.”

“I’ll be saving this for the next time he comes to dinner.”

“Lucius….” She swotted at his arm. “These men are meant to be mending bridges, for Hermione, andbecause they’re grown adults, not breaking them.”

“Sorry, dear.” He kissed her forehead, but caught Harry’s eye over the top of her head. Narcissa knew he was still going to bring it up. She wouldn’t be surprised if she found him asking Draco for his memories for a pensieve viewing.

“I understand from Meda that Gerald wasn’t forthcoming with any new information?” Narcissa redirected the conversation.

“No. We’ll have to continue with our original plan of getting memories from the Grangers.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. The frivolity at Severus’ expense had passed.

Lucius nodded, “Well, if that is all, I have business to attend to.”

“Thank you, Lucius, Cissa. If we don’t see you before your holiday, we’ll look forward to meeting you out in France.”

“Let us know if you need anything. It was lovely to see you again Harry, you’re looking wonderful.” Narcissa placed her palm to his face. He really was looking better. Even in the few days he’d been with Sirius, and on Meda’s potion regime, he had begun to fill out and he generally looked more relaxed than the first time she had met the teenager. His cheekiness towards Augusta had been endearing, and an insight into his personality. Sirius was right, he was like James. Narcissa hadn’t known James Potter well; she was primarily familiar with him as a result of observing her cousin’s antics and hearing Professor McGonagall telling the ‘Marauders’ off on a number of occasions. James had always been quick to accept his punishment, but never without a flirtatious comment and a wink to the Head of Gryffindor. Sirius and he were notorious for calling the teacher by pet names and getting away with it, something that no one else in the school would dare trying, and Harry’s behaviour towards Augusta echoed that type of brazen confidence.

Yes, she could see how that would get Draco’s back up…

Chapter Text

Following her return home, Hermione and her parents settled into their usual routine. They hadn’t discussed the adoption any further, beyond confirming that they wanted her Grandmother to meet with Sirius at some point on their trip to France. She had overheard her parents talking one morning about Sirius; discussing the fact that, despite everything, they felt like they could trust him. It comforted Hermione, knowing that they didn’t despise him for what his family, and his attempted adoption of her, had revealed. They reiterated to each other that he felt ‘familiar’, now disregarding their previous assessments that it was purely because they had seen his face in news reports. It felt like a turning point. Hermione was sure this meant that they believed; they believed that something had happened and that they probably knew Regulus before. Hermione didn’t bring up what she had overheard, but she felt glad that they were thinking about their past and that, for the most part, they didn’t appear too hurt when they did so.

She had replied to the letter Ron had sent her while she was at Grimmauld place, briefly giving him a rundown of events since the trial, but she hadn’t heard from him since. That wasn’t too unusual, they didn’t correspond massively during the holidays, mainly because it was difficult for her to contact him without an owl, but she was surprised, given everything that had gone on, that he hadn’t replied. Harry and Theo, however, appeared to be battling it out for who could be the best friend. While her parents were at work, she spent inordinate amounts of time sat on the floor in front of the fire, chatting to the boys in turn. Theo had stopped by once to fill her in about Gerald in person and to demand she take him the ‘mystical land of Tesco’. She had heard all about his recent jaunt into London from Harry, so she wasn’t surprised by his request. Rather than take him to the supermarket however, she opted to take the sugar junkie to a nearby cornershop that sold sweets from jars and 20p mix up bags. He left the shop with a new obsession for Tigers Tongues, Fruit Pastilles now superseded. Apparently, the more sugar coated and sour the sweet, the better.

She saw Sirus and Remus in the days immediately prior to her holiday. They worked out days and times for them to visit her Grandmother in France and passed on a formal invitation from Narcissa for the Grangers to have dinner at the chateau while they were in the area.

“A chateau, Hermione? Seriously?” Her Dad had said incredulously.

“I’ve seen their house in England, and I think the Queen would be impressed.” Hermione shrank into her chair.

“Richard. I need to go clothes shopping.” Her mother announced to the dinner table.

“Thank you for that, cupcake.”

“Sorry, Dad…”

And then they were away, taking the familiar ferry journey and long drive to her Grandmere’s house, because “This way we can take as many books as we want and bring back a bunch of wine in the car to avoid customs.” It was an annual dispute between her Mum, who would prefer flying, and her Dad, who very much liked French wine. They tended to alternate the method of travel. Hermione didn’t mind, she could settle herself in the back seat of the car, with a pillow against the window, her headphones on and a book in her hand.

Hermione had fallen asleep in the car but felt herself waking up on instinct as the car pulled around the final bend and the sound of wheels on tarmac made way for wheels on gravel. The sound was engrained in her brain, synonymous with the beginning of the holidays. Through bleary eyes she could see the stone-built farmhouse gaining size as they drove down the drive and past the apple tree orchard that surrounded the property. Hermione wondered whether her Grandmere’s house ranked higher than Hogwarts in terms of places she felt at home. It was definitely a close call.

The car came to a stop outside the main entrance to the house and Hermione watched as her Grandmere appeared from around the side of the building. She was wearing her usual outfit of long skirt, blouse and check apron, but Hermione could instantly see that she looked older. The gait of her walk was shorter, her hair looked thinner and the roundness of her face, the roundness Hermione associated with cheek rubs and hugs, had disappeared. Hermione had noticed the change at Christmas, but it hadn’t felt so stark as it did now.

“Oh Maman…” she heard her mother whisper from the front of the car, as she also noticed the changes. Her father reached his arm around the headrest to squeeze his wife’s shoulder. Hermione chose to leave them to the moment, flinging the car door open and running to her Grandma.

“Oh, ma belle petite-fille!” Her grandma caught her in a hug.

“Grandmere!”

“Let me look at you. You have become a woman since I last saw you!”

“You saw me at Christmas.” Hermione blushed.

“Oui, but I can already see a lot has changed since then.”

Hermione cringed slightly, knowing the sentiment applied in a number of ways. While they’d spoken, her Dad had begun unloading the car and her mother was beginning to help him.

“Helene, you unload the car before greeting your own mother? Is that how I raised you?”

“Maman, don’t be so dramatic.” They kissed each other’s cheeks.

“Colette, you’re looking well.” Hermione’s father kissed his mother-in-law in a similar fashion.

“You lie Richard, but thank you all the same. Entrez, venez, venez. Your rooms are all set up and I have dinner on.”

“Is there time for a swim?” Hermione asked hopefully. She felt sticky and grimy from the drive and it was still warm despite the setting sun.

“Go, go child.” Her grandmother shooed her towards the house and Hermione made for the front door before making a 180 to grab her suitcase from her father. As she entered the house, she heard her mother sigh.

“We have a lot to discuss.”

“Oh? Oh.” The second acknowledgment was one of understanding. And, just like that, Hermione knew her Grandma knew more than they had imagined.

Her swim was blissful. She retrieved some pool floats from the outbuilding, and spent an hour in the dwindling daylight, alternating between swimming laps and floating on her back, taking in the sound of the countryside. She was surrounded by the chirrup of crickets and cicadas, the occasional car in the distance and the gentle knocking of the wooden wind chimes her Grandma had hung from a tree by the pool. She took the opportunity to disassociate, her ears dropping beneath the surface of the water, plunging her hearing into an underwater realm where everything felt the same but closer. Her breath was loud in her ears and the sound of the water moved around her like a cocoon. She spent a while like this, until she heard the muffled call of her mother and raised her head fully above the surface of the water.

“Dinner will be ready soon Hermione!” Her mother shouted across the lawn.

“Coming!”

Dinner was a familiar affair, sat out at the patio table, citronella candles burning, red wine poured and conversation light and relaxed. Her grandma had made a harissa chicken dish with cannellini bean puree and a side of salad. It reminded Hermione of previous holidays. She was happy to be back. Meal finished, they all sat in blissful silence, enjoying the all-encompassing darkness that had descended around their small dimly lit table. After a while, Hermione made her way up to her bedroom. It was humid and sticky, so she cracked open the window, leaving the outer shutters slightly ajar to allow some air flow. Once changed into her pyjamas, she settled on top of the covers of her bed with a book, ready to enjoy her first night on holiday. It didn’t last long.

“So, you need to talk to me about something, Helene?” Hermione sat bolt upright at the sound of her Grandmere talking outside.

“Maman, we don’t need to –“

“We can save this for another night,” her father suggested.

Hermione understood that her parents wanted a day’s grace, a day’s holiday before ‘everything’ began. Hell, she wanted that as well.

“It is clear that you won’t feel better until you’ve got whatever it is off your chest. And for once, I do not think it is about my health. Is it, Richard?” Hermione listened to the sound of a wooden chair twisting in the gravel.

“No, Colette.”

“I thought not.”

“We, all of us, yourself included, will be meeting with some acquaintances of Hermione’s this week…”

“Acquaintances? You mean wizards?”

“Yes.”

“D’accord. Carry on.”

Hermione held her breath, unsure as to how her parents were going to explain, well, everything.

“Through a rather convoluted chain of events, we have learnt that Hermione is not our daughter. I know how ridiculous that sounds. And it is. It truly is. And I desperately want you to tell me that we’re wrong, Maman.” Her mother’s voice was trembling. “I have memories, but, we’ve been told they’re false. That Hermione has different parents. Wizarding parents.” Hermione pulled a pillow to her chest to hug, listening to her mother struggle to hold her composure on the patio down below.

“We just don’t know what’s true anymore, Maman!”

“Shhh, shh child.”

“And they say that they have links to here. It’s… it’s all too coincidental. We don’t know what to think. So, we’ve arranged this meeting and…” her voice was muffled now, Hermione imagined her mother was being held by her Grandmother.

“Oui, I will be there. I have thought, or rather, I have felt like I have had misplaced memories for a while now. But you know, with my health…” Hermione could hear the French shrug without seeing it, “What am I to know anymore?”

“You believe us?

“Why would I not? I have been experiencing ‘moments’, shall we say, for some time. This may make sense of that.”

“What do mean by ‘moments’?” Her father asked and Hermione inched forward on her bed, desperate to know what her Grandmother was remembering.

“Let us save that for our meeting with the Blacks. You both need rest tonight.”

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat, and she heard mother do the same, before saying what she was thinking.

“We didn’t mention that we were meeting anyone named Black.”

“Ah, well, ma cherie. It appears that my memories aren’t the ‘descent into madness’ I thought they were after all. Come here.”

There was a scraping of chairs on gravel, and Hermione listened as her mother began to cry, her tears muffled now as she was embraced by her own mother. A glass shattered against a wall and her father swore before apologising and going in search of a dustpan and brush. Hermione turned over in her bed, cradling the pillow she was clutching tight to her chest, tears leaking from her eyes and landing on the bed sheets. It was real before, Hermione hadn’t ever really doubted it, but now… now it was official.

Harry was laid on his bed, nervous. He’d never been abroad, he’d never even had a holiday, and being absconded to a hut on an island in the Dursley’s attempt to hide from his Hogwarts letter definitely didn’t count. Add on top of that the fact that he was going to stay with the Malfoys, and he could feel himself getting overwhelmed at the thought. At least Theo would be there. The two boys had entered into an awkward but slowly developing friendship, so Harry felt better, knowing that his presence would take the edge off being surrounded by Slytherins. But Harry didn’t know how he was going to deal with Malfoy and apparently, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. He’d had next to no civil interactions with any of them at school. Admittedly, Blaise and Daphne tended to stay out of the Slytherin versus Gryffindor rivalry, but they didn’t shut any of it down, and Pansy, well she was the epitome of a childhood bully. She’d made Hermione cry a number of times with her name calling.

“Are you ready to go Harry?!” Sirius shouted up the stairs. Harry rolled over dramatically, putting on a show for no one but the room and Hedwig perched on the windowsill, before getting up from his bed. He gave Hedwig a treat and opened the window, instructing him to head to the chateau. He then grabbed his trunk, full of his new summer clothes, stashed his wand in the holster Remus had brought him, and made his way to Sirius. 

“Great! Excited, pup?” Sirius was positively bouncing with energy.

“Um, yeah.” He feigned a smile.

“Oh, come on, I know you don’t get on with Draco, but the house is big enough you can avoid him if you want. And, if it is too much, we can come back. I promise.”

“I think this will be good, Harry.” Remus contributed. He had his teaching face on. Yes, yes Remus, interhouse bonding, blah blah blah. Harry just nodded in reply.

Sirius proceeded to shrink down Harry’s trunk before ushering him through the floo to the Ministry. The trio made their way to the International Floo Department and were quickly fast tracked. Harry was happy that the preferential treatment they received seemed more to do with Sirius being Lord Black, and not because he was The Boy Who Lived. The witch at the check in counter made absolutely no attempt to hide her open fawning over Sirius and seemed to have made it her personal mission to make physical contact with the man as much as possible. It was too much for Harry’s liking. Sirius and Remus seemed to simply find it amusing.

Stepping out of the floo into the French Ministry, Harry was struck by the contrasting design of the buildings. The architecture of the French Ministry was elaborate and regal. Unlike the hard marble floors of the British Ministry, the room they had entered was carpeted, reds, cream and gold, real gold in most cases, adorning the surfaces. They were escorted by an Ambassador to a private holding area while their bags were checked over, before being directed towards the French internal floo area. Harry watched with amusement as Sirius broke into fluent French with the Ambassador, not taking a breath or hesitating as he interacted with the man. Harry was amazed that twelve years in Azkaban hadn’t beaten the pureblood upbringing out of his godfather and looked on in awe at the figure Sirius struck. As usual, he was wearing black jeans, a white t-shirt and his leather jacket, his hair was tied up in a top knot and aviator sunglasses dangled precariously over the neck of his t-shirt. Despite all of that, he still managed to look like the superior wizard in the room and people couldn’t help but seem to treat him with deference. Harry wondered whether he would be expected to learn French as part of his lessons on becoming Lord Potter. He looked at Remus, who seemed thoroughly entertained by the display Sirius was putting on, and rose an eyebrow. The look that Remus gave him back wasn’t hard to read. Yes, I know. Apparently, he’d seen this before.

“Would you like to floo straight to the chateau or drive? Louis says that there is a car on retainer if we want to use it; we could take the drive and explore a bit first?”

Harry was quite eager to put off their arrival at the chateau and, in turn, the forced interaction with the Malfoy’s, for as long as possible. And apparently his reaction wasn’t as subtle as he thought, because, without having to say anything, Sirius made the decision to take the car.

The car in question turned out to be the vehicular embodiment of Sirius Black. Harry quickly learnt, following an effusive explanation from Sirius, that it was a Ford Mustang SVT Cobra, a recent release. The car was black, with dark red leather seats and couldn’t have screamed ‘I belong to Sirius Black’ any louder. Luggage shrunk, they easily fit in the vehicle that Harry was sure was larger on the inside, and Sirius took great pleasure revving the engine multiple times before driving them out of the Ministry parking lot. Harry was ready to be stuck in the traffic of Paris, but when they exited the garage through a tunnel and onto a wide road surrounded by open fields, Remus informed him that there were different exits to the car park depending on where within Paris or the peninsula you needed to go. Harry tried not to be slightly disheartened that his time without Malfoy had been reduced, until Sirius informed him it was still going to be a four-hour drive. Feeling slightly better about the situation, Harry settled into what was quite frankly the best drive of his life. Remus was quick to get the music going, and Sirius was on top form chatting away about memories of trips he’d taken in the past, plans he’d made with Harry’s father, and belting out rock metal at the top of his lungs. Remus even seemed to let loose a little bit, a younger version of the man emerging as they drove down the motorway, both men screaming Highway to Hell at the top of their lungs.

“So, when do they arrive?” Pansy asked, picking at a raspberry in the fruit salad in front of her. The Slytherins were taking breakfast on the veranda overlooking the pool.

“No idea. Like I’ve already said, numerous times, they’re taking an international floo this morning and then I’m not sure what their plans are.” Draco tried not to express how bored he was already by Pansy’s questions.

“And they’ll be here the whole time?” Pansy continued.

“I don’t know how long they intend to stay.” Draco closed his eyes and brought his coffee cup to his lips. This was his holiday and, if having Potter around wasn’t bad enough, he now had Pansy asking incessant questions.

“And Granger will be here at some point?”

“Merlin, Pansy. Just give it a break. You know this already.” Blaise interjected.

“Hey!” Draco squinted his eyes open in time to see her chucking a piece of fruit at Blaise. “I’m sorry if you’re too out of it to realise, but this is massive. Like massive, massive. Granger is pureblood, part of the Black family, and Harry-doesn’t-die-Potter is now heir to the House of Black. This changes everything! Sorry, if I’m trying to get my head around how we’re meant to be.”

“It changes nothing.” Draco closed his eyes again.

“How can it change nothing?”

“Because you either like them or you don’t. Blood doesn’t matter. You dislike Granger because she’s a know it all swot, or you don’t. The fact that suddenly she’s a pureblood shouldn’t make a difference.”

“Are you saying that the only issue you’ve had with Granger up to know is that she’s a nerd? What happened to Sanctimonia Vincet Semper?” Pansy pushed.

“Purity means a lot of things. Do you dislike Granger because she’s Granger, or because of her blood?”

“Wha- I can’t even believe I’m hearing this.” Draco was surprised that, although she seemed incredulous, she actually sounded slightly relieved.

“I’m not saying go plait her hair, Pansy. If you even could. I’m just saying, do we really care? Like her or don’t like her. Whatever.” He closed his eyes and tried to focus on sensation of the morning sun hitting his skin again.

“Well, not that any of your questions were directed at me, her cousin, I would like to say that I think she’s brilliant. Pureblood or not. I liked her before I knew we were related. And Harry isn’t actually too bad. I think he’s a bit injured to be honest.”

“Harry?” Pansy eyebrows rose at Theo’s use of Potter’s first name. He ignored her.

“Injured?” Daphne leant forward, entering the conversation.

“He hasn’t had it that easy. I think we all assume that he’s a celebrity and gets all this special treatment. But from what I see, he hates it, and his upbringing has been something Father Nott would have been proud of. He’d probably be a good fit in the “our parents suck” pity party our group has going on.”

“My parents don’t suck.” Draco lazily waved a hand at the general estate he and his friends were sat in.

“Congratulations,” Pansy sneered.

Breaking all decorum, he chucked part of his croissant at Pansy.

“Throwing food? Really Draco?” His mother walked out of the patio doors. “Are you a toddler?” He was struck at how relaxed she looked. She always seemed to be calmer when they came to France, but she looked positively glowing as she stood in the French sun. In contrast to her usual more formal outfits in England she was wearing a pale green, knee length sundress, and her hair, normally pulled up in some way, was loose down her back, glinting in the light.

“Yes, Draco, positively plebian behaviour.” Pansy put on her mask of innocence, smirking at him, and he struggled to resist the urge to chuck the rest of his pastry in her direction.

“I’ve just had a patronus from Sirius letting me know that they’re driving down from the French ministry, so we can expect them mid-afternoon.”

“Driving? Like, in a muggle car?” Theo sounded excited.

“Why would they do that when they can just floo here?” Daphne asked.

“You’ll quickly find that Sirius doesn’t do anything the normal way. I imagine they wanted to enjoy the journey.” Although his mother said it with a smile, Draco could tell that she wasn’t overly impressed with Sirius’ decision.

“What do you children have planned today?”

“Daphne and I are going to spend the majority of the day by the pool, if that’s alright Narcissa?” Pansy was quick to reply. She’d already given Draco and the boys a full breakdown of her tanning regime. “We’d love for you to join us if you have time?”

“Thank you for the invitation Pansy, maybe another day, I’m afraid I’ve still got some preparations for Sirius’ arrival to go over. Remember to call Tilly if you need anything. Boys?”

“Quidditch, pool.” Draco shrugged.

“Well, I hope you all have a lovely day,” she bent over to kiss Draco’s forehead before leaving the group alone on the veranda once more.

“I love your Mum.” Pansy sighed, looking wistfully after the Malfoy matriarch.

“Me too,” Daphne agreed, before picking up her sunglasses from the table, and standing. “Pool, Pansy?”

Both girls disappeared into the house together to get changed into their swimming costumes. Draco and the boys spent a further hour sat around the patio table talking, before they too went to get changed, only opting for quidditch gear instead of swimwear. Flying at the pitch in France was possibly one of Draco’s favourite things to do, ever. It beat flying in the cold British weather and, although he loved the Manor, you couldn’t beat the countryside surrounding their French estate.

“It’ll be good once Harry arrives, we’ll have even numbers for quidditch.” Theo offered, as they circled the hoops.

“You want to play quidditch with Potter?” Blaise didn’t sound convinced.

“Why not, we’re going to have to spend time with him aren’t we. Might as well make the most out of it. Quidditch is at least common ground for him and Draco.”

Blaise looked to Draco where he was hovering.

“Whatever, I can use it as research for our next Hogwarts matches.” Draco conceded, trying to find the silver lining in having to spend time with the Gryffindor.

“Oh, because he never fails to beat you?” Theo laughed and Draco chucked the quaffle he was holding in his direction, Theo deftly plucked it out of the air and threw it back.

“It’ll be better than convincing the girls to play. Pansy’s good but Daph is terrible.” Blaise chuckled. He was right, it had come as a shock to them all, the first time they got Pansy to play with them, to find that she wasn’t half bad. With her pureblood upbringing, Draco wasn’t sure when she had managed to find the time to practice, or how she’d got permission from her parents, but she was definitely as good as Theo, if not better. Draco later found out that she practiced in secret while her parents were away, having convinced her house elves to keep her secret. Draco was fairly sure that, if her parents weren’t a factor, she would have tried out for the school team years ago and he secretly hoped that someday she might go for it, regardless of what her parents thought.

They played on for a while longer before Theo let out a cry of excitement. From their positions in the air they could see a black car streaking across the countryside in their direction. The noise of the engine carried through the air, across the fields. Draco thought it sounded obnoxiously loud, but Theo was giddy. Blaise simply looked curious the closer the vehicle got to the chateau grounds. When the gates opened and the car began meandering up the drive, Theo jet off back towards the house, shrieking that they were here as he went.

“Oh, yippee.” Draco grumbled, following after his friend, trying to ignore Blaise’s laughter behind him.

Let the summer holidays begin.

Chapter Text

Even if his holiday consisted only of the drive to the Chateau d’Etoiles and nothing else, Harry was sure it would rank in his top five experiences ever. After a long stretch of motorway, Sirius had taken a more rural route through the heart of France. Winding roads, fields of sunflowers and quaint French villages made up the scenery for the drive. Sirius, to Harry’s amazement, managed to talk nearly the entire time that they were on the road, or at least, he alternated between talking and singing. Harry was in awe at the ease he made the drive look. Remus acted as navigator, a large AA map resting on his knees, his feet up against the dashboard. To any on looker you would never have thought that either man had grown up in the wizarding world.

As they neared the end of their journey, Sirius announced that they would be stopping for lunch and, shortly after, they found themselves parked in a small market town. It felt so quintessentially French that Harry was sure it must have been used as a template for all of the fairy tales he’d read as a child. Cobblestones met flagstone, flagstone met rough stone buildings, stone buildings met peeling wood shutters and terracotta tiled roofs. The town was even complete with an old quarter, containing a castle and abbey. Remus apparently knew where he was going and led them through the streets until they found a restaurant in the main place. Various food establishments surrounded the square, their seating spilling out onto the streets; the different restaurants differentiated only by the colour of the umbrellas being used to shade the tables. It was busy, and Remus, in an attempt to distract Harry from the overwhelming number of people, explained that, in France, most businesses shut for two hours over lunch to give workers sufficient time to take a proper lunch break; there was no eating lunch at your desk here. Harry felt himself calming as Remus spoke and he began to notice that, despite the number of people, unlike the streets of London, everything was a lot more relaxed, the pace of life slow and easy going. They found a table and placed drink orders. Sirius, as designated driver opted for a coffee, Harry decided on Coca Cola, and Remus ordered a beer. Harry struggled to contain his excitement when his drink arrived in a glass bottle. He’d seen Coca Cola glass bottles in TV adverts, but never actually had one; it felt special and something he knew he’d associate with summer holidays from this point on. Remus’ beer came in a bizarre looking beer glass, nothing like what Harry had seen people drinking from at the Leaky Cauldron or on Eastenders; it almost looked like a goblet. Catching him looking, Remus proceeded to give him a crash course in the difference between Abbey, Trappist and traditional beers.  

Harry followed Sirius’ lead in ordering the plat du jour and then they settled into enjoying their break from the drive in the sun. While they waited for their food, Sirius pulled a small rectangular tin and a pouch of tobacco from his jacket pocket and proceed to roll himself a cigarette. He lit it with a metal lighter, took a long drag and chucked his head back, expelling the smoke into the sky. Harry looked on in surprise as Remus reached across the table for the tin and made to roll his own.

“You both smoke?” He didn’t necessarily have anything against smoking, but everyone knew how bad it was for you and he’d heard the sneering comments Aunt Petunia would make when they’d passed people smoking in town.

“Look Moony, he’s giving us a Lily disapproval face.” In reaction Sirius' comment Harry tried to shift his face into something more neutral.

“Merlin, I’d forgotten how intimidating her stares were.” Remus laughed, licking along the edge of the cigarette paper, rolling it between his forefingers, before tapping it on the table and sticking it in his mouth.

“Blame Moony, pup, he introduced us to muggle cigarettes when we were teenagers.” Sirius pulled the ashtray on the middle of the table towards him.

“Don’t place all the blame on me. You were pretty persistent that you wanted to try it as soon as you saw photos of Bowie smoking.”

“Did Dad smoke?” Harry tried to picture his father, cigarette in hand.

“Ha! Not if he ever wanted Lils to date him. I think she’d have hexed him from here to Timbuctoo if she’d ever caught him smoking.” Sirius closed his eyes, grinning happily at the memory.

“James realised pretty quickly that smoking wouldn’t be the way to her heart when she snapped a cigarette in front of Sirius’ face and sent a stinging jinx his way the first time she saw Pads smoking.”

“Spitfire was scary.”

“Sounds like something Hermione would do.”

“They’re remarkably similar,” Remus smiled, “You’re lucky to have her, and she’s lucky to have you.”

Harry took a sip of his drink, feeling awkward at Remus’ praise of both himself and his friend.

“But yes, Prongslet, we smoke. Will you indulge a conflict and a werewolf this vice?”

“I guess… your body and all that,” Harry shrugged, he couldn’t exactly stop them, “I won’t be impressed if you get sick because of it though. You do know it’s bad for you, yeah?”

“Merlin, he even sounds like Lily,” Remus flicked his cigarette, the ash from the end dropping into the ashtray.

“If that happens, you will be well within your rights to say, ‘I told you so’, and be pissed off with us.” Sirius stubbed out the cigarette end.

Food arrived shortly after, and Harry was pleased to find that the set menu of the day was a starter of pate on toast, followed by steak frites. He had very much ordered blindly.

“Can I learn French?” he asked through a mouthful of fries.

“Yeah, if you want. You don’t have to though.” Sirius was looking at him oddly.

“It just seems like a good idea to learn a language. Teenagers normally learn in muggle secondary school, but it’s not on the curriculum at Hogwarts.”

“It tends to be a pureblood thing.” Sirius didn’t seem particularly taken with the idea.

“I’d never thought about the fact that the average student doesn’t learn any languages,” Remus mused. “I learnt because my Mum home-schooled me before I went to Hogwarts, she tried to give me a grounding in everything in case I didn’t get to go to Hogwarts… or any other school.” He said the second half of the sentence under his breath and Sirius reached across the table to hold his partners hand, rubbing across his knuckles with his thumb.

“Hermione speaks it, because of her Grandma. I think I’d like to give it a go.”

“Okay pup, I’ll add it to the ‘Black Summer School’ curriculum,” Sirius laughed, “Maybe I should franchise this, start charging and put advertisements in the Prophet.”

The sun was hot, but the group were shielded from the midday rays by the sun umbrella above their table. It was positively blissful. Harry realised that, in the last couple of weeks, there had been numerous occasions when he’d wondered whether he could ever be any happier than he was in that moment, and each time it’d been topped. Is this what life is like for most people? The hustle and bustle of the waiting staff, glasses clinking, and conversation encompassed the town square, and Harry was sure he’d be happy to never move from the spot. He was jolted out of his daydreaming as Sirius paid the bill and dolefully announced that they need to get a move on. At least it wasn’t just him sad to leave.

When they reluctantly made their way back to the car, they found it surrounded by a group of teenagers, peering through the windows in an attempt to get a look at the interior.

“Alright, guys?” Sirius was jovial as he walked towards the driver’s side door.

“Is this your car, monsieur?”

“At the moment, yes.” 

“It’s amazing! I’ve only seen it in magazines.”

Harry stood awkwardly to the side, not understanding the conversation taking place in front of him in French. He was hit by a wave of self-consciousness, now that he was stood among people his own age. He tried to actively avoid making eye contact with the group of teenagers now surrounding Sirius. No matter how hard he tried however, one girl kept trying to catch his attention, staring at him relentlessly despite his stalwart attempts to look anywhere but in her direction. She was wearing baggy pale jeans, turned up at the ankle and cinched at her waist and a plain white top that barely covered her midriff. Thin white spaghetti straps made tracks over the tan on her shoulders. Harry ran his tongue over his teeth discreetly and tried to subtlety brush his fingers around his lips in an attempt to check whether he had any food around his mouth. Sirius and Remus wouldn’t have let him leave the table covered in food, would they? Why the hell is she staring at me?

The conversation Sirius was having appeared to end and he began to climb into the driver’s seat. Harry hurriedly took the opportunity to escape from the girl’s gaze. As they pulled away, Sirius made a show of revving the car and they left the town to the sound of teenager’s cheers.

“I think that girl liked you, Harry!” Remus shouted over the roar of the engine.

“Huh? What?”

“Clueless! Just like Prongs!” Sirius barked as they exited the town and made their way back onto country roads in the direction of their final destination.

Harry didn’t reply. She didn’t like him, no way. She was just… 

He ran his hand over his face again to remove whatever it was she'd been staring at.

Theo had already disembarked from his broom and was running through the house towards the front door by the time Draco had even reached the side of the pitch.

“He’s really happy about this, huh?” Blaise was evidently amused, “I can’t tell if he’s more excited to see Lord Black, Professor Lupin, or Potter. His letters have included plenty about all of them.”

“Sirius and Remus seem to be good for him.” Draco didn’t comment further, before hanging his broom on one of the holders near the back door and following the sound of Theo tearing through the house. He knew that Theo was appreciating have more male figures in his life. Draco’s father had attempted to take him under his wing, but there was something about the relaxed nature of Sirius and Remus that Draco already knew would appeal to Theo. Even though his own father was positively chill in comparison to Tiberius Nott, Lucius still maintained an aloofness and decorum that meant that Theo never truly relaxed. He needed the lack of structure and disregard for etiquette that Sirius appeared to give him. The opposite had been beaten into him for so long.

As Draco reached the main entrance hall, he held back, halting Blaise with his arm as he watched his mother sweep down the staircase, unaware of their presence, and make a beeline towards where Theo was stood. Draco and Blaise remained in the shadow of the stairs, out of sight.

“Wha-“

“Wait…”

“Theodore Tiberius Nott! Are you, or are you not, a respectful wizard and heir to your house?” Narcissa struck a tone that Draco knew all too well.

“Um… respectful and heir?” Theo sounded bashful, his figure a silhouette in the open doorway, one foot twisting slightly on the floor. Draco scoffed at his friend’s pathetic attempt to look ashamed; he loved it when his mother told people off other than him.

“Are you questioning me, or telling me?”

“Telling…”            

“Good. And, are you looking for a career as a guard dog?”

“Um… no?”

“Questioning or telling, Theodore?”

“No, I am not planning a career as a guard dog.” Theo reply was stilted.

“Well then, may I ask that you please refrain from hollering in that banshee-like manner whenever guests arrive. Alternatively, I’ll transfigure your bed into a dog kennel, and have it moved to the front gate.”

“Cissa is fierce.”

Draco and Blaise jumped and Pansy dug her fingers into Draco’s side in an attempt to tickle him.

“Where did you come from?!” Blaise hissed.

“Um, pool, duhhh.”

“Very lady-like, Pansy,” Draco rolled his eyes.

“It was pretty hard to ignore Theo’s wailing, we wanted to see what was happening.” Daphne contributed.

“Why are we hiding?”

“I wanted to watch Theo get told off…”

“Which you have now done, Draco,” Narcissa called from across the hall, causing the group of Slytherins in the shadows to jump again, “Sirius is about to arrive. Can you all be ready to meet our guests? Girls, may I suggest that you run upstairs and put something on that isn’t just a towel and your swimming costumes.”

Pansy and Daphne were quick to dash away, leaving wet footprints on the flagstone in their wake. Narcissa sighed as she watched them go, before casting a spell to vanish any trace of pool from the front foyer.

“I guess you boys will do,” she eyed Draco and Blaise’s quidditch gear.

“Sirius won’t mind,” Theo said confidently, “Maybe he’ll even play quidditch with us. He was on the Gryffindor team wasn’t he, Cissa?”

He hadn’t turned his head to face them but continued to look out into the front courtyard. Draco could tell he was grinning.

“He was a beater. Please refrain from accosting him with quidditch requests as soon as he arrives, Theo.”

Narcissa proceeded to shoo them outside.

“Where’s father?” Draco was suddenly aware that his father wasn’t present as one of the welcoming committee.

“He’s attending business at the Ministry. He’ll be returning later this evening.”

Pansy and Daphne quickly joined them, both having hurriedly pulled on clothes. The growl of the car engine grew louder and soon the black metal box came fully into view. It navigated the turning circle and then pulled up just outside the chateau.

“Merlin’s beard.”

Harry leant forward and placed his head between the front two car seats in order to get a better view of the chateau. To all intents and purposes, it was fully exposed in the countryside, but Harry knew that there must be heavy wards and spells in order to keep it off the map. It was definitely too large not to draw attention otherwise. They entered through large wrought iron gates, flanked by winged horse statues on plinths. The gates opened automatically as the car approached, allowing them to seamlessly enter the grounds of the property and proceed up the white gravel driveway. Their passage was lined by manicured grass and topiaries, directing them up towards a central courtyard. The main house sat on three sides, surrounding a square complete with fountain and Harry could see various circular turrets and balcony’s jutting out from the building’s façade. The stone was golden in the sun, windows glinting and gargoyles with gold gilding glistening in the light. Despite the size, it already felt homier than Malfoy Manor. Maybe it was the sunlight, or seeing it from the outside, but there was a rustic charm to the chateau, despite the size and evident wealth on display. As they pulled around the fountain, Harry saw their group of hosts on the steps to the main house. Theo was hard to miss, waving his hands erratically in excitement, causing Harry to smirk at the sight. Malfoy, to no one’s surprise, looked unbothered as ever, and Zabini looked equally non-plussed. The two girls however were doing a terrible job of hiding their intrigue. This is good gossip, Harry concluded.

Narcissa descended the steps to greet them on the drive. Harry thought that she almost seemed to glow and it was hard not to find your eyes drawn in her direction. She was dressed far more relaxed than Harry had seen her before and, with her hair down, she looked even younger than usual.

“Sirius, I trust your journey was pleasant,” Narcissa hugged her cousin while also sending a withering glare at the car in the process.

“Absolutely delightful. Can’t tempt you with a spin, Cissa?”

“I value my life,” she turned her attention to where Remus was re-sizing their luggage. “Remus, it’s lovely to have you here.”

“Thank you for having me.”

“And Harry, I thoroughly hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you, Narcissa. You have an amazing home.”

“Thank you, dear. I trust you know your school peers?” She beckoned towards the group of teenagers on the stone steps, who slowly made their way towards the arriving group. Harry nodded and received various uncertain looks from the Slytherin’s in return.

“Sirius, you know Draco and Theodore of course, but let me also introduce Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini. They are Draco’s housemates and frequently spend summers with us.”

To Harry’s surprise, both girls curtseyed and Zabini gave a bow, all acknowledging ‘Lord Black’.

“No need for that guys and please call me Sirius. It’s a pleasure to meet you all and thank you for allowing us to crash your holiday. I’m sure you know Remus, from his time as your Professor this year.”

The Slytherin’s all nodded again and gave their separate greetings, awkward as they were, to their former professor. Harry wasn’t blind to the slight hesitation given by the group in contrast to their more enthusiastic greeting of Sirius. Theo, however, rolled his eyes and walked straight up to Remus, lifting the suitcase the man was holding from his hands.

“I can show you around!”

“Tilly,” Narcissa called, and a small house elf with a dark blue satin pillowcase appeared, “please can you move our guest’s suitcases to their rooms and then I think we’d like to have drinks out on the patio.”

Narcissa was speaking French, and Harry was amazed to find that the house-elf replied similarly. Hermione would find this fascinating, he thought.

Not knowing what had been said between the elf and her mistress, Harry followed Sirius’ lead as they were shown through the house. They passed through the main foyer; light flagstone floors and crisp white walls welcomed them into the house, a stone staircase with metal bannister led towards the upper floor. Harry was unable to study the space in full, following Sirius and Narcissa into a living room with large patio doors before being directed onto a balcony. There was a white wrought iron table, set up with glasses of champagne and orange juice. The chateau was clearly built into a hill, as a further set of stone steps leading down to a pool and the rest of the gardens.

“Please, help yourself to a drink,” Narcissa directed them to the table and to Harry’s dismay, Sirius and Remus sat themselves next to Narcissa, quickly engaging in hushed conversations. Harry was left at the other end of the table with the Slytherin’s.

“Um, thank you for having me.” Harry offered in Malfoy’s direction.

“You’re welcome,” Malfoy’s face hadn’t changed from his stony expression, but Harry could hear a lilt of irritation, despite his relatively neutral reply.

 “I can’t believe you came in a car. Where did Sirius get it? What’s it like? Do you think he’ll take me out in it? Can I drive it?” Theo was gushing.

“Um, yeah, the French ministry had it on standby for him when we arrived. I’m sure he’d take you out.”

“But it took you four hours longer than it could have done to get here?” Harry was startled to find that it was Pansy making the statement. There was no bite to her tone, just incredulousness that someone would make the decision to elongate their journey. Why was she being, decent?

“I’ve not been to France before,” Harry said hesitantly, “I think Sirius wanted to show me the what it was like.” The black-haired witch scrutinised him for a moment, before picking up her champagne glass of orange juice and taking a sip without further comment.

“How fast does the car go?” Theo continued.

“Um, I’m not sure, I think we hit 80mph on the motorway, but it can go faster. But, that’s against the law.”

Malfoy’s head twitched as Harry spoke, apparently intrigued.

“What’s the point in that then?” Blaise asked. Harry looked at him blankly not knowing what he meant, the dark-skinned wizard continued, “What’s the point in making something that can go that fast if it’s against the law?”

“Oh, I guess I don’t really know.”

The two girls began having their own conversation, and Harry focussed on answering Theo’s questions, his enthusiasm enabling Harry to relax slightly. They engaged in a stilted but cordial conversation for a while longer.

“Have you heard from Mia?”

Their end of the table quieted, Pansy and Daphne halting whatever they were talking about to listen in.

“She sent an owl before she set off on holiday, I think she’ll be in France now. I was planning on writing to her once we’d arrived.” Harry answered.

“Do you know when she’s coming over?” Theo shuffled in his chair, resting his elbows on the table, his face cupped in his hands, eager for information.

“Sirius and Remus arranged it, I’m not sure what day. I…” he looked around the table at his school rivals, all apparently desperate for information. Malfoy was playing with the stem of his glass, but Harry could tell that he was listening as intently as Pansy and Daphne, who were making no attempt to hide their interest, “I think they wanted to give her a couple of days of holiday before everything potentially hits the fan.”

“Is it?” Daphne asked, “Going to hit the fan I mean?” It was the first real time Harry had interacted with her. She seemed kind enough, and her eyebrows were furrowed out of, what appeared to be, genuine concern.

“It’s already hit the fan, hasn’t it? The whole adoption reveal… etcetera.” Pansy waved a hand nonchalantly, but again, Harry was surprised to find that there was no meanness behind the comment. She was right, everything in Hermione’s life had already blown up.

“Yeah but, finding out what her Grandma knows could be big. Something weird happened. Who knows what that could result in.” Theo answered on Harry’s behalf.

“I can’t even imagine how I’d feel if I suddenly found out I had different parents,” Daphne continued frowning, and Harry was baffled again at the sympathy being shown by the blonde-haired witch. A silence descended over the table.

“Well, I for one would be happy.” Pansy shrugged.

“Because now she’s pureblood? So, she should be happy?” Harry retorted defensively.

“No, Potter,” she spat, “because, my parents suck. Another set would be quite nice.” Her green eyes narrowed, and Harry had the decency to feel ashamed. Were all Slytherins happy to just divulge their family issues?

“I’m sorry,” he stuttered.

“Fine.”

“Well, I already have too many parents, I don’t need more,” Blaise stretched back in his chair, his arms crossed behind his head. Harry wasn’t sure what he meant but rolled with it.

“You have too many fathers. That’s different.” Theo replied.

“None that stuck around… or lived.”

Harry struggled not to choke on the mouthful of juice he’d just taken. Pansy caught him staring at Zabini.

“You’re going to be here with us for a while, yeah?” she leant forward in her seat, Harry nodded, intimidated by the girl. She didn’t seem to care that there were adults sat at the top of the table, she was a force to be reckoned with. Theo was smirking to his side, “Firstly, considering Draco has done a shit job of introducing us, you should know that we don’t hate you. Well, we do a little bit. You’re the Boy Who Lived, and Dumblefuck gives you special treatment, and the world thinks you’re a god. We don’t go in for that. Add on top of that the fact that your existence means that a bunch of our parents, or our friend’s parents, followed a certain person, you should be enemy number one. We don’t care. Our,” she indicated to the group at the end of the table, “our issue with you is that you’re a Gryffindor and get treat fucking, shiny special, because of the zigzag on your forehead, while we get treat like pond scum for having the audacity of being sorted into a House that the school continues to let exist, but then treats like crap.”

Harry couldn’t do anything apart from nod before she continued,

“Secondly, you should know that we’re all a bit fucked up. You’re going to hear stuf on this holiday, stuff that doesn’t leave this place. Coming here each year is our safe space and having you around isn’t going to change that.”

“Understood.”

“Ice breakers, Theo go first.” Pansy ordered.

“Harry already knows mine, Pans.”

She raised her eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

“Father’s violent, mother…” he ran a finger across his throat and Harry winced. “Probably Dad.”

“Blaise,” Pansy instructed.

“One father and ten step-fathers to date. Seven of them are dead for reasons ‘unknown’.”

Harry gulped, understanding the implication.

“Draco.”

“I’m perfect.”

“Bullshit, Dray.”

“Ugh, expected to become my father, half of my family followed a madman, my Aunt’s a serial killer.” Noting that Harry didn’t seem as shocked at his confession as the others, he added, “What can I say, I’m positively healthy in comparison to these guys.”

“You wouldn’t think it the way you go on, some of us have actual problems." Pansy didn't let up, "Daph, your turn."

“Blood curse. Likely incurable, and all because my ancestor married a muggle. I’ll be lucky to see thirty.” Daphne said it with a small smile, but Harry could see the group around her twitch and shift in their seats. Only Pansy remained still, her eyes trained on her friend.

Harry knew he wasn't hiding his shock well and part of him didn't care. Daphne didn’t look sick at all. He’d heard the boys in his year talking about her in the past, she was the definition of beautiful and, sat in the French sun, she looked radiant. The idea that she was living on a clock was sickening. 

Pansy snapped him out of his thoughts, stopping him from offering what he knew would have been a bungled and awkward offer of apology,

“And my parents look at me like a brood mare, ready to sell me off to the highest bidder in order to restore their fortunes. Last wizard they introduced me to was turning sixty. Unfortunately for them, I like girls, so that’s never going to go their way, but will likely result in me being disowned.” She sat back in her chair, staring him down, as if daring him to make a comment.

Scanning the group, he took their lead.

“I… I didn’t have a bedroom until second year, my Aunt and Uncle made me sleep in a cupboard under the staircase and they told me my parent's were drunks who died in a car crash. I didn't know they were wizards until I got my Hogwarts letter.”

“That’s positively fucked up. Congratulations, welcome to the club, Potter.” Pansy reached across the table and offered her hand as if they were making a business deal.

“Glad to be of acquaintance, Parkinson.”

Chapter Text

At the other end of the table Sirius watched out of the corner of his eye as the Parkinson girl held out her hand to Harry, which his godson took in turn as if they were sealing a business deal. He knew that Harry had been nervous to spend a prolonged amount of time with peers who, to all intents and purposes, had been his rivals, bullies and a source of irritation at school. He was impressed to see that, so far, they appeared to be acting cordially with one another. Had it been him as a teenager, sat at a table with the likes of Barty Crouch, Severus Snape, Evan Rosier and Reg… well, he just wouldn’t have been there in the first place. Remus appeared to have witnessed the exchange as well and, with his lupine hearing, frowned at the nature of the conversation he had seemingly overheard.

“They’re bonding over childhood trauma,” Remus grumbled.

“Huh?”

“I just heard a round robin of those children’s issues. Narcissa, you’re do a good thing letting them come here.”

“Why aren’t you more shocked?” Sirius asked his partner.

“The boggart lesson - I made the mistake of doing it with the Slytherin class. It was… eye-opening. I actually sat down with Severus afterwards, it was that concerning.”

“I imagine it was. Slytherin house is renowned for housing slightly, shall we say, damaged, children. Having Draco’s friends here is the least I can do,” Narcissa said with a weak smile, her fingers twisting the ends of her hair, “I do hope my own son’s trials aren’t too great though?”

She said it with a light laugh, but Sirius could see a flash of concern, her eyes flicking in the direction of her son.

“The expectations of his father and the House of Malfoy, and the acknowledgment of the actions of certain members of his family…”

Narcissa let out a sigh, “Well, I can work with that.”

“Care to elaborate on the others, Moony?” Sirius didn’t enjoy being out of the loop, knowing full well that Cissa was already privy to whatever plagued the other snakelets. In confirmation, it was his cousin who answered.

“Theo, you already know.”

Sirius nodded, grimacing at the reminder of the Nott boy’s history.

“Blaise’s mother has made her way through husbands with a voracious speed, some of whom have reached, let’s say, untimely and unexpected deaths. Nothing has been proved, of course, but Blaise carries the weight of the insinuations. Pansy is a young witch in a family that wanted sons. They see her as no more than chattel, in a similar way to how I was brought up, but without my sisters or cousins, for support. And dear Daphne… she’s afflicted by the Greengrass curse.”

Sirius sucked in a breath. All pureblood households were aware of the curse; it was used as a cautionary tale to children, an attempt to instil fear and convince them to maintain their pureblood lines. Sometimes the curse skipped a generation or two, lending a momentary feeling of hope to the family, but it had always returned. He looked at the girl sat at the end of the table, laughing with her friends, his heart full of pity.

“Remus is right, Cissa, you’re doing so much good letting them come here.”

“Thank you, Siri.” She was looking at the Greengrass girl now, her eyes glistening slightly before she sniffed and took a large swig of champagne. “And Harry is already looking so much better under your care.”

She was right. The potions that Andromeda had been sending had helped to return a healthy colouring to the boy, and with regular meals and the nutrient potions, he had put on a bit of weight that made him look more like a boy should at his age. Despite having been at Hogwarts all year, he still hadn’t looked ‘healthy’ when they collected him from the Dursley’s.  He was slimmer than James had been at the same age, but the potions already seemed to be taking effect.

“You are both good for him.” Narcissa continued, her hand resting on Remus’ arm for a second. Sirius was still coming to terms with the fact that Cissa was back in his life, but seeing her interact with his Remus, his Moony, without flinching or prejudice, filled his heart with a love for his cousin that he’d missed since being a child. She’d always seen the good in people. No doubt, it was why she’d been quick to believe Hermione’s testimony of his innocence.

“I don’t think it’s hard to be much of an approvement.” Remus sounded positively menacing, tugging at a loose thread on his jumper sleeve. Sirius and his cousin looked at him expectantly.

“Harry’s trauma bonding admission was to reveal that his Aunt and Uncle kept him in a cupboard under the stairs until his second year of school. Only then did he get a bedroom.”

Narcissa’s sharp inhale, combined with Sirius’ failure to keep a cool on his anger as he let out a series of expletives, turned the heads of all of the teenagers; various looks of surprise, concern and intrigue scattering their faces. Narcissa waved them off and they all slowly returned to whatever conversation they had been distracted from.

“Absolute fuckers,” Sirius growled under his breath, refilling his glass with the fizzy alcohol.

“Quite. But he isn’t there anymore,” Narcissa tried to settle his mood.

They didn’t speak for a few beats, each adult deep in their thoughts. Sirius was scanning the grounds beyond the stone balcony. He’d been to the chateau numerous times as a child. His father, Cygnus and Abraxus were close friends, and their respective wives very much held court among the pureblood society. Although he had disliked the forced interaction with Lucius, his holidays to the chateau offered more freedom than he had during the summers at his own home, and his time was well spent with his cousins and brother, getting up to mischief in the French sun. It was nice to be back without the overbearing presence of his parents.

“Where is dear old Lucy this fine day? I was expecting him to be part of the welcoming committee.”

“Ironing some things out with the Ministry. The Quidditch World Cup is proving to be a thorn in his side timewise; dignitaries from various countries keep wanting to meet with him, rub shoulders and line their pockets. Add, on top of that, the ludicrous decision to bring back the Twi-Wizard Tournament, and he’s been up to his eyeballs in meetings.”

“No way! Who in their right mind thought that was a good idea?” Remus’ golden eyes were wide and his face one of pure disbelief.

“Who do you think?” Narcissa rolled her eyes, “Lucius tried, as one of the Board of Governors, to get the idea blocked, but he was overruled. The rest of the Board were too enamoured with the idea of eternal glory for their children, if they are of age, or Dumbledore’s belief that this would be good for wizarding unity.”

“But, people - students, died!” Remus hissed under his breath, trying to avoid the attention of the children.

“I have been assured that the rules have been altered,” Narcissa replied stiffly, clearly not believing that, whatever the alterations were, they would prevent school children from coming to harm.

“I’ve always wondered what the tournament was like…” Sirius mused, “I would definitely have gone for it, if it had been available while we were at school.

“Gryffindor…” Narcissa mumbled under her breath.

“Yes, and you, or James, because we all know he’d have entered as well, would have got yourselves killed.”

“There’s a reason why none of the past winners were in Slytherin. We, at least, have self-preservation.” The roll of Narcissa’s eyes didn’t need to be witnessed to be heard.

“Pfft, whatever.” Sirius was overcome with jealousy at the idea that, out there, right now, was a student who would get to represent Hogwarts. At least he was, until Remus brought him to his senses.

“Imagine if it was Harry that entered.” Remus’ tone was stern and teacher-like.

Sirius’ mood swiftly changed as he pictured his godson in an arena, battling an unknown danger, “Nope. Not happening.”

“Exactly.” Remus was pulling a face reminiscent of the times he’d managed to talk James and Sirius from taking one of their pranks too far. It was endearing to see; a memory of times gone by.

“You’re a parent now,” Narcissa said with a chuckle, “get used to that feeling. Based on Harry’s track record, you’re going to be feeling it quite a bit.”

“Merlin, I hope not.”

They continued their conversation for a bit longer, Sirius keeping a casual eye on Harry, who, although not actively engaging in conversation with the other teenagers, seemed happy enough.

“I received your owl confirming the Granger’s visit. I have had rooms set up for them in case they wish to stay the night, but otherwise I’m prepared. You’ll be escorting them?”

“Yes, Hermione has given me her Grandmother’s address. Now that I have the car, it’s best that I pick them up, so that they can enter the wards easily. I offered to apparate them, but I think that will be too overwhelming. I’ll send Hermione an owl in confirmation.” Sirius was nervous and Remus noticed, dropping his hand below the table to rest on his partners knee in comfort.

“It’s going to go well.”

“I, for one, am greatly looking forward to meet Hermione’s parents, and her Grandmother. They’ve raised a wonderful witch.” Narcissa was looking dreamily at her champagne glass, “I’m only sorry not to have seen her grow up. I always wanted a girl.”

“You’d have spoilt her rotten,” Sirius cajoled, laughing inwardly at the idea of a smaller version of Hermione running around Malfoy Manor.

“That I would, all little girls need spoiling now and then.”

Sitting with the slytherins wasn’t as awkward as Harry thought it would be once they had got introductions, in the form of tales of trauma, out of the way. Harry was content enough to listen to the three boys chat about various bits of school gossip, interjecting every now and then when their conversation was steered towards questions about the Gryffindors. The girls kept to themselves, listening in every so often, particularly when the conversation centred around talking about girls; something that Harry was amused to see that Blaise was very keen to talk about, while Theo and Malfoy seemed relatively apathetic to the topic. If Blaise took issue with his mother’s decision to race through husbands, he, apparently, didn’t apply the same logic to himself, and Harry quickly assessed that he was what some would call a lothario. The names Blaise rattled off as he talked about various Hogsmeade weekends were quite surprising, especially as a number of the witches listed were in the years above them at school, and Gryffindors. Harry couldn’t deny that, yes, Blaise was probably what the girls considered objectively attractive.

After a while, Narcissa announced that it was time for her guests to be shown to their rooms and be given a brief tour of the house, and Theo leapt at the opportunity. Pansy, Blaise and Daphne stayed behind at the table, their plans for the afternoon centring around the pool until dinner was served. Malfoy trailed after his mother in what Harry assumed was politeness and his etiquette training kicking in while his father was absent. Harry quickly found he had been correct in his assessment of the chateau when they first arrived. Athough it was equally as opulent as the manor, there was a rustic charm to the building. He was shown the formal living room, a smaller and more intimate living room, a dining room, breakfast room and music room before being directed upstairs. Narcissa had arranged for their group to stay in a suite, their rooms separated by a central space complete with sofas, a desk and small dining table. He was grateful that, beyond the various other areas of the chateau, he was sure he could escape here if he needed - that they had this private area, just for them. His bedroom was airy and full of crisp white linens and gauzy curtains brightening the space. There was a balcony that looked out over the pool and the terrace below, and he could hear Pansy and Daphne’s laughs carrying on the breeze. Narcissa and Malfoy left them to acclimatise to their suite, informing them that, if they needed anything, Tilly and Francois, the house-elves, were on hand. Theo fussed around for a bit longer, asking Remus about the drive and trying to convince Sirius to take him out in the car and, only when Sirius assured him he’d take the boy out in the next couple of days, left the group alone, saying he’d be at the pool, if Harry wanted to join them.

Harry perused his room for a bit but, as the elves had already unpacked his suitcase, he quickly found he didn’t have anything to do. He stood by the window for a while, listening to the Slytherins below. He couldn’t make out their conversation, but they sounded cheerful enough; they didn’t appear to be gossiping about him in his absence at least. He smirked as he heard, what could only have been Theo, crash into the pool, making the girls squeal and Blaise shout something that was undoubtedly a swear word. Summoning his inner Gryffindor, he searched out a pair of swim trunks from the ornate chest of drawers in his room. He changed into them quickly, leaving his t-shirt on and proceeded to grab his wand and a towel from the bathroom (unsure whether there would be towels downstairs). Sirius and Remus were lounging on the sofa in the suite, Sirius’ head in Remus’ lap, his eyes closed. Remus had a book in his hand and his feet propped on the coffee table. He smiled at Harry’s appearance, and indicated for him to be quiet as he passed through the room. As Harry left, the door closing behind him, he heard Sirius let out a murmur that sounded something like ‘long drive’.

Harry tried to retrace his steps through the chateau. It wasn’t a particularly complicated layout, but he was still wary of taking a wrong turn and ending up somewhere he shouldn’t be. As he made his way along the long corridor, he heard a door click and Malfoy appeared, wearing dark green swimming shorts and a towel chucked over his shoulder. He had sunglasses perched on his head and looked entirely dishevelled and nothing like the stuck-up Slytherin prince Harry knew from school.

“Potter.”

“Malfoy. I was just heading down to the pool.”

“I guessed,” Malfoy appraised his attire. “Follow me.”

They walked in uneasy silence throughout the house, passing Narcissa in the living room as she sat writing letters. They made their way out to the terrace and down the stairs to the pool. The swimming pool was large, larger than any of the leisure centre pools that Harry’s Aunt Petunia had taken him to. He silently said a ‘thank you’ to the heavens that she had been forced to take him to swimming lessons alongside Dudley as children. At the shallow end steps, spanning the width of the pool, led into the perfectly clear water and, at the far end, Harry could see a separated plunge pool. Pansy and Daphne were laid on sunbeds, flicking through magazines, shielded from the afternoon rays by large angled umbrellas, while Theo and Blaise appeared to be partaking in a form of gladiatorial battle, balancing precariously on pool floats at the deeper end of the water.

“Harry!” Theo yelled, before being pushed off balance by Blaise and plummeting into the water. The girls looked up briefly, before returning to their magazines. Malfoy set his towel on a free lounger and made his way into the water, swimming lengths rather than engaging in whatever Theo and Blaise had been doing. Theo emerged from the water, spluttering and pulling himself up onto the side of the pool.

“You getting in, Harry?”

“Um, maybe in a bit.”

In all honesty, Harry was already hot and feeling the urge to cool off in the water, but he couldn’t shake the embarrassment he had over stripping out of his top in front of the group of teenagers. He knew his body had changed lately, a result of eating better and Andromeda’s regimen of potions, but he still wasn’t entirely comfortable. He settled on a lounger next to Daphne’s. Theo frowned slightly, but returned to the pool, tipping Blaise off his pool float in the process. Daphne twisted where she was laid so she was facing Harry.

“Are you okay?” She asked, “I bet this is overwhelming.”

“We don’t bite, Potter.” Pansy drawled, she had large sunglasses on, but Harry sensed from her tone that her eyes were closed, disengaged from the conversation.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you though.” He offered Daphne a genuine smile which she returned.

“Your godfather is hot. Professor Lupin too,” she said it with a wicked smirk he wouldn’t have thought could have formed on her angelic face.

“Um…”

“They’re hot, Potter. Fact. Who would have thought Professor Lupin would scrub up so well?”

Pansy groaned and sat up, looking over Daphne’s shoulder to gauge Harry’s reaction.

“I, uh, I thought you said that you liked girls?” Harry stuttered as Pansy lifted her sunglasses and placed them on her head.

“I do, but I have eyes, as do the rest of the wizarding world.” She chucked a magazine his way. He caught it and was shocked to be faced with a moving photograph of Sirius, Remus and himself walking through Diagon Alley a few days earlier.

THE WIZARDING WORLD’S MOST ELIGBLE BACHELORS?

He hadn’t even noticed the camera at the time. Scanning the article, he was stunned to find that the question didn’t apply to just Sirius and Remus, but to him as well. He was even more shocked to find that Remus’ status as a werewolf was no more than a passing comment, and one that the women’s magazine seemed to allude to as something that made him ‘mysterious’. Harry chuckled, knowing Remus would hate that.

“Looks like the witches of Britain are going to have to deal with some heartbreak. They’re engaged, to each other.” Harry waited for some form of negative reaction that never came.

Daphne’s eyes shot to her forehead, and Pansy swung around and moved to perch on her friend’s sun lounger.

“No way!”

“That’s even more hot,” Daphne breathed in deeply before releasing a longing sigh.

“Merlin, Daph, we need to get you a boyfriend,” Pansy laughed.

“They haven’t formally announced it yet, because of everything going on with my adoption and Hermione, but it isn’t a secret. I think Narcissa is already planning the wedding.” Harry shrugged.

“I’m going to be a flower boy!” Theo shouted from across the pool, jumping out of the water and flopping back down, hands straight by his sides, as if he was a breaching whale. Nothing about the wedding had been decided, so Harry knew that Theo had simply given himself a roll.

“You aren’t being a flower boy.” Harry chuckled, causing Theo to swim to position himself, his arms crossed, on the edge of the pool in front of Harry.

“Why not?” He pouted.

“They haven’t picked anything yet.” Harry shrugged.

“Which means I can be flower boy!”

“You don’t even know what a flower boy does.” Daphne’s laugh trilled through the air.  

“How hard can it be? Flowers, be a boy.” Theo ticked off the points on his fingers, “I think I can nail that.”

“They haven’t even asked!”

“They will.” Theo sounded confident; his forehead creased for a moment before he used his arm to scoop a barrage of water in Harry’s direction. “I’m very persuasive.”

Harry jumped off his seat, now soaked with chlorinated water.

“What the-“

Before he could finish his sentence, Theo sent another wave of water his direction, drenching him even more. Harry without thinking, pulled off his t-shirt, threw his glasses on the lounger, ignored Pansy’s wolf whistle and jumped into the water. He made sure to splash Theo as much as he could in the process.

“Persuaded you into the pool, didn’t I, Potter?!”

Later that evening Harry sat, thoroughly exhausted, in the smaller living room, well fed and tired from the sun and hours in the pool. They’d been called for dinner and had a pleasant meal as the sun set in the distance. Now, dressed in pyjamas, Harry was settled on the floor playing exploding snap with Theo, any concerns about spending his holiday with the Slytherins a distant memory. Pansy was witty and blunt but, nothing she had said, so far, had been an insult. Daphne was lovely and Harry thought she would get on well with Hermione. In fact, both girls seemed to have personalities that would suit Hermione quite well, challenging but sincere. Blaise was stoic and reserved, but had loosened up throughout the afternoon and Malfoy, well, he was just Malfoy. Harry was reminded of Hermione’s comments before the trial, about how stupid the house sorting was and the manufactured competition it created. Nefarious parents aside, the people he was surrounded by now were just teenagers. It didn’t feel too different to a night in the common room surrounded by Dean, Neville, Seamus, Lavender and Parvati.

“So, Granger is coming over on Friday?” Blaise queried, absentmindedly, from his position in a wing backed chair.

Over dinner, Theo, because of course it had been Theo, cornered Sirius and forced out of him a confirmation as to when Hermione would be arriving. Apparently, she, her parents and grandmother, were expected at the end of the week for an evening meal.

“You know as much as I do,” Harry lay one of his playing cards down on the floor in front of him and flinched in anticipation of Theo matching his card, but apparently Blaise’s choice of conversation had distracted his playing partner.

“What are our bets?” Blaise asked the room.

Harry tilted his head upwards towards where Blaise was sat, notepad and a pencil already in hand. His expression looked like Fred and George combined. Before Harry could ask what he meant, Daphne jumped in,

“I call, Regulus and Lysa had a hidden romance and left Hermione with her grandmother and obliviated them all for her safety.”

“I call, Dumbledore did the obliviating.” Pansy nodded to herself.

“I call, Granger’s parents knew all along.” Blaise made his own note on the paper.

“Dray?” Pansy asked.

“I don’t want to play.” Harry was surprised at the tone of his voice. He’d been pleasant at dinner and at the pool, but was striking a very different appearance now, brooding in his chair.

“Come on, something…” Daphne tried to needle a bet out of him.

“Fine. I call, that she isn’t Regulus’. That they did something,” when he saw Harry’s face shift in anger, “something to protect her. I think she’s still pureblood or whatever, but I don’t… I’ve heard things about Regulus, if you know what I mean. I don’t think he’s the father.” Malfoy offered in an attempt to soften his answer.

“Also, Dumbledore is definitely involved.” He threw in as an aside.

“Theo?” Blaise asked.

Theo was sat cross legged on the floor, shuffling the cards in his hands. Without looking up, he replied without emotion, “I agree with Dray. I think my Aunt Lysa was attacked. I think Regulus helped her.”

The room stilled, the implication of what he was saying weighing on the room. Blaise quickly pocketed his notebook, the conversation was changed, and the night went on. Harry didn’t miss the way that Malfoy looked at Theo in concern, or the fact that Theo didn’t look up from his cards until his game with Harry had finished.

“Have you heard from Dumbledore?” It was Malfoy asking and Harry was shaken out of the daydream he’d been having while listening to the idle chatter that had begun around him.

“No. Well, not me personally. He’s written to Sirius a couple of times, to Remus as well. They aren’t replying.”

“How come?” Pansy shuffled off the sofa and onto the floor next to him, eager for information. Despite having only interacted with her properly for an afternoon, he didn’t find the black-haired witch’s presence intrusive.

“They don’t trust him. Because of how I ended up with my Aunt and Uncle, Sirius’ lack of trial, my magic…”

“He’s always been so self-righteous. I quite enjoy the fact that someone isn’t bowing down to him.” She scoffed.

Harry was torn, Dumbledore had been his mentor and an aspirational figure. His school had gifted Harry a home for the first time and, regardless of who had been the headmaster or headmistress, Harry knew that he would always feel immense gratitude to the person that gave him an escape from the Dursleys. Only, Harry now knew that he shouldn’t have been placed with them in the first place. That was Dumbledore’s choice. A choice he didn’t have authority to make. His world view of the man was shattered.

“I think Sirius and Remus have it covered. I trust them.” It was all he could manage in reply and was surprised to find Pansy’s hand on his arm in consolation. It seemed like she understood how he was feeling, which she confirmed when she announced that he needed lessons in being more Slytherin because his face apparently ‘said too much’.

“Salazar knows how Gryffindors get away with anything. Your face is an open book.”

Hermione didn’t mention the fact that she had overheard her parents and grandmother talking on the first night they had arrived in France. Instead, she did her best to treat the beginning of her holiday as normally as possible. Her days were full of morning trips to the local village with her Grandmere, to collect pastries and fresh vegetables. She read by the pool and visited familiar towns with her parents to enjoy lazy lunches. The only time she felt tempted to mention her newfound adoptive status was when she found her Grandmere, sat at the kitchen table staring into space. After watching her for a few minutes, she pulled the elderly woman from her thoughts, asking what she was thinking about.

“Oh, just memories…” her Grandmere had said wistfully, patting her granddaughter’s hand, her tanned and wrinkled face a combination of sadness and pity. Hermione wanted to pursue her questions further but was interrupted by her mother entering the room; her mum’s panic evident on her face as she took in the scene before her. Hermione had left then, picking up her book to sit outside, trying not to eavesdrop further when she heard her mother asking what had happened.

“Nothing to worry about Helene. She just caught me in a moment of memory.”

Sirius was due to pick them up on Friday afternoon, apparently having arranged a car with the French Ministry. Hermione spent the morning awash with nerves, desperately trying to distract herself in books as the countdown to his arrival approached. She changed into a black and white checked summer dress with block shoulder straps and a square neck. It was fitted to her waist and then flared loosely to her knees. She managed to school her curls, reducing some of the frizz that had developed due to the high levels of chlorine that her hair had been subjected to in the last few days, before taking a seat at her window overlooking the drive; she wanted to keep an eye out for Sirius’ arriving. Her stomach was in knots, not just at the possible revelations that the evening might entail, but also the melding of worlds; her parents - her muggle parents and grandmother - were going for a meal at the Malfoy’s summer home, where peers who had notoriously bullied her would be present. It was enough to make her feel sick.

“He’s here!” She called, running out of the room after spying a black car making its way up the drive, dust clouding the air in its wake.

Her mother was already downstairs, dressed in a knee length, beige, linen skirt and white blouse. She had, what Hermione knew were, her best pearl necklace and matching earrings on, and she had pulled her hair into a chignon. Her father was similarly dressed, in a beige linen suit jacket combination, with informal shirt. Her Grandmere had opted for a blue and green, floral, mid-length dress, a light blue scarf wrapped around her shoulders. They had all dressed in their smartest summer wear. Looking at the group, Hermione was sure that Narcissa at least would approve. She couldn’t account for Lucius.  

There was a knock on the door and Hermione opened it, inviting Sirius into the hallway. He was wearing loose, dark grey slacks and a baggy black shirt. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, as usual, to expose some of his tattoos and a pair of aviator sunglasses hung from where the buttons met.

“Hermione, it’s good to see you again.” He pulled her into a hug, before turning his attention to her Grandmere.

“Madame Laurent,” Hermione startled at his use of her grandmother’s surname; her mother’s maiden name, “Enchanté.”

Her grandmother, to Hermione’s astonishment, held out her hand for him to take and he politely laid a kiss on her knuckles.

“What a handsome man,” she said in French, raising a hand to Sirius’ cheek, “But I think your brother had an edge on you.” Her eyes scanned over Sirius. Hermione gasped, fully understanding what her Grandmother had said, and her mother similarly raised an eyebrow in reprove, incredulous at the bluntness of the elderly woman. There was no denying it now, her Grandmother definitely knew Regulus Black. Sirius paused for a moment, before letting out his familiar barking laugh.

“Well, he had a couple of years on me.”  

“And less tattoos, and neater hair.”

“Maman!”

“Helen, lovely to see you again. Richard.” Sirius kissed Hermione’s mother on the cheek and shook her father’s hand, giving him a clap on the shoulder in the process. “Are you ready to leave? It’s actually only a twenty-minute journey to the house.”

“Are you sure we’ll all fit in your car?” Richard was eyeing the Mustang on the drive with excitement. Hermione could tell that it likely had five seats, but it did look like it would be a bit of a squeeze.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll fit fine,” Sirius replied with a wink and a knowing nod to the group.

Magic.

Chapter Text

Hermione had anticipated that the drive to the chateau would be awkward, a feeling that was increased given the initial barrage of questions that Sirius was handed as the group of five clambered into a car that, to all intents and purposes, should have been a tight squeeze. Instead, Hermione found herself distracted, trying to help Sirius field her father’s inquisition about the effect of the expansion spell on the car. She wasn’t much help.

“Does the enlargement of the interior impact the engine?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Daaad…”

“Does it reduce the integrity of the metal?”

“Are we safe if we crash?”

“Mon dieu! Richard!”  

“If we crash does the spell break? Will we be crushed? Is the spell tied to you, or the car?”

“Richard!”

“DAD!”

In the end, her father’s questions about the car became less morbid and more mundane, and Sirius was happy to use the journey to give Richard an education in the general, muggle mechanics of the car. Hermione, her mother and Grandmere, sat in the back of the car, with ample space, passively listening to their conversation. Both Hermione and her mother, mirror images of each other in how they dealt with nerves, couldn’t seem to sit still. Hermione was frequently playing with the curls of her hair; without a mirror she imagined they were wild, despite knowing that she had checked them before she left, and they had been fine. Regardless, she found herself picking out individual ringlets and twisting them around her fingers. Her mother’s nerves manifested in a fascination with her skirt, constantly smoothing, rearranging and lifting herself up slightly to pull the skirt straight beneath her, all the time muttering about wrinkles. Grandmere Collette, in contrast, was just enjoying the drive, gazing out of the tinted windows as they passed down familiar roads. Hermione was intrigued to learn where exactly le Chateau d’etoiles was, having known the area for years. It felt taunting to learn that somewhere, just twenty minutes from her Grandmere’s house, there was a hidden magical chateau.

The car finally pulled up to a pair of gates, and beyond, Hermione could see a white gravel drive leading up to a golden building.

“Oh… wow.”

“What, Hermione?” Her mother asked.

“It’s just, big…” she felt stupid at not being able to come up with a better adjective to describe the chateau.

“Hermione dear, you’re staring at a rundown farmhouse, surrounded by condemned signs…” Richard twisted in his seat to look at his daughter.

“No, I’m not, I’m looking at the chateau. This is it, right, Sirius?”

 Sirius replied with a warm chuckle, “It is indeed. I’m sorry Helen, Richard, Colette, the muggle repelling charms and wards won’t let you see the grounds until we pass through the gates. Much like Hogwarts.”

“Hm.” Her mother was staring out of the window, squinting, put out that she wasn’t sharing the same view as her daughter.

“I’m just waiting for Narcissa to open the-“ Before Sirius could finish his sentence, the gates in front of the car swung open, and Sirius pulled them past the winged horse statues flanking either side of the entrance to the property.

“Oh my!”

“Blimey!”

“C’est magnifique!”  

Seemingly, passing over the property boundary had, quite literally, opened the rest of her family’s eyes to what was in front of them. Although Hermione had been given a brief head start in perusing the fairy-tale building they were driving towards, she was in as much wonder as her parents.

“Look at the gardens, Richard!”

“Blimey…” her father muttered again, “I feel remarkably under dressed.”

“We don’t stand on ceremony here,” Sirius re-assured.

“Are you sure? No standing guards? Trumpets on arrival? I feel positively let down.” Richard tried to joke, but his voice wavered slightly, and he ran his hand over his hair in an attempt to smooth it down.

As they pulled into the main courtyard, Hermione’s heart sank to her stomach as she saw the gathering of people stood waiting for them. She had known that Malfoy’s friends would be in attendance, but she hadn’t quite accounted for them as being part of the welcoming committee. Narcissa, Lucius and Malfoy were stood forward from the rest of the group, Remus and Harry slightly to one side and the gaggle of curious Slytherins to their other side. As the car pulled to a halt, Hermione watched as Harry looked nervously to where the other teenagers were stood, a small frown on his face. He didn’t look overly impressed that they were there either.

Sirius was quick to exit the car, opening the passenger door so that he could offer Helen and Collette his hand to escort them from the vehicle. Hermione made her own way and joined her father, where he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The action seemed as much a support for him as it was for her.

“Madame Laurent, Mr and Mrs Granger, we are so happy to have you here. My name is Narcissa, this is my husband Lucius and my son Draco. Welcome to our home.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, please call me Helen. This is my mother, Colette, and my husband, Richard.” Hermione was surprised to find her mother taking the lead in the greetings, given the nerves that had been on display earlier. Maybe it was the fact that Narcissa had stepped forward rather than Lucius.

Sirius cut in, “Colette, this is my fiancé, Remus, and my adopted son, Harry. He’s Hermione’s friend from school.”

“I have heard all about you, Harry. How wonderful to put a face to the name. Hermione talks about you a lot. Is the ginger boy with the big family here as well?”

“Ron? No, um, no he’s not here. Just me. It’s lovely to meet you, Madame Laurent.” Harry replied and Hermione ignored a twitch on Lucius’ face; probably imagining nothing worse than having a Weasley at his holiday home.

“Pfft, Colette, mon cher, no need for fancy names.”

Hermione left her father’s side to make her way to Harry, who promptly gathered her into a hug, while her mother and Narcissa continue their conversation, and Sirius and Remus negotiated the introduction of her father and Lucius. To all intents and purposes, everything appeared very civil. Hermione had been concerned that, despite the Malfoy’s talk of not having a problem with muggles, it would be very different when put into practice. However, so far, everything seemed like a positively normal introduction of new acquaintances.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Hermione.” Harry muttered into her hair.

“Already sick of spending time with the rest of the snakes?” She whispered, raising an eyebrow as she pulled away and jerking her head slightly in the direction of Theo and company.

“They’re not actually that bad. Actually,” Harry’s face twisted into one of contemplation, as if he was coming to a realisation, “actually, we’ve been getting on quite well. I just missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She looked to where Theo was stood, the boy’s mouth was moving and his arms were wildly gesticulating at his friends but he hadn’t moved from the spot, “I think I might need to go see Theo? He looks like he’s going to hurt himself.”

“Oh, yeah, we put a sticking spell on him and had to silence him. He was driving everyone crazy.” Harry chortled. “The sticking spell was my idea. Silencing spell was all Lucius.”

“Wha-!” she hurried over to where Theo was stood.

“Um, hi Theo.” Her cousin made mopey eyes at her and opened his mouth a couple of times like a goldfish.

“Were the spells really necessary?” She directed her question at Harry, but it was Pansy who answered.

“It was spells or lock him in the dungeon. Lucius was ready to throttle him, but Aunt Cissa was adamant he should be here when you arrived. Potter had the genius idea of sticking him to the spot.” The dark-haired girl shrugged, her hair bouncing around her shoulders. “Nice to see you Granger.” Hermione was taken aback by Pansy’s cordial tone, and she didn’t miss the fact that the girl had complimented Harry without blinking.

“Oh, um, nice to see you too Parkinson. And you, Daphne, Blaise.” Hermione felt like she was in an alternative universe, watching as Daphne gave her a warm smile and Blaise raised a hand to give a jerky wave.

“Malfoy.” She acknowledged the blonde. His head snapped in her direction; his attention pulled away from where he’d been focussed on watching his parents interact with her family. Apparently, he was as interested in how their introductions would go as she had been.

“Granger.”

“Um, can we release him now?” Hermione scanned the group for permission.

“He’s all yours,” Pansy replied.

Hermione cast a finite on Theo. As the spell on his feet was lifted, he stumbled forward, as if an invisible barrier he had been pushing against had suddenly disappeared, the release causing him to barrel into Hermione, nearly knocking her to the floor.

“Mia! My saviour, saving me from these dastardly, sorry excuses for friends.” His arms were quickly around her, spinning her on the spot. “You’re here!”

“Hey, Theo.” She laughed, as he placed her back on the floor.

“Can I meet your Grandma?”

“There’ll be plenty of time for more introductions,” Narcissa had joined the group, “We’re heading in now. Hermione, you look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Cissa, and thank you for arranging this.”

The imposing, yet beautiful witch waved her hand in dismissal, before taking her husband’s arm and leading the entourage into the house. Hermione made her way to her parents, Harry and Theo following close behind.

Soon they were on a terrace, seated at a long table, drinks in hand. Hermione sat close to her parents, protective and conscious that this was the first time they had spent any prolonged period of time in the presence of wizards. She had no idea what the timeline for the evening was going to be in terms of any discussions about her heritage. For now, it seemed that everyone was happy to treat the gathering as nothing more than a meal with friends. No word had been said about the Regulus or Lysa.

As a tray of glasses of champagne hovered around the table, Hermione took the lead as she took a glass, giving her parents an encouraging smile as they both eyed the floating tray incredulously. Her Grandmere, she noted, seemed completely unphased.

“I hope you don’t mind the use of magic while you are here. We weren’t sure how much exposure you had and, to my shame, we’re quite reliant even for menial tasks,” Narcissa said sweetly.

“Not at all, Narcissa. If anything, it’ll be enlightening to see how the wizarding world functions in a more domestic setting. Our trips to Diagon Alley have always been quite, overwhelming, shall we say.” Her mother replied.

“I can only imagine.”

“I would like to propose a toast, to our guests. We are very happy to have you here.” Lucius was stood at the end of the table, flanked by Narcissa and Sirius. Hermione took the moment to take in his attire; a light grey suit that appeared more muggle than wizard. It was possibly the most relaxed she had seen the senior Malfoy. Narcissa, now that Hermione was paying attention, was wearing an outfit not too dissimilar to her own mothers; a calf length pale blue skirt, and a cream satin pussy bow blouse with balloon sleeves that buttoned just above her elbows. Her mother also seemed to be assessing the hosting couple's outfits and, unaware that Hermione was watching her, quirked her lips into a satisfied smile as she concluded that her own family had dressed appropriately for the occasion.

Conversation between the two groups flowed remarkably easily. Sirius and Remus engaged Hermione’s father in a conversation about his business and Lucius joined in, Hermione tried to pay attention at first but, once the conversation turned towards the stock market she zoned out, turning to where her mother and Grandmother were talking to Narcissa. They were getting on swimmingly, although she begrudged that they primarily seemed to be bonding over her. She heard mention of her schooling before Hogwarts and her hobbies, before the group of women rose from the table so that Narcissa could point out various sections of the grounds.

Their departure from the table left her to focus her attention on Harry, Theo and the rest of the teenagers.

“I really like your dress, Hermione. Is it from a muggle shop?”

Hermione felt herself tense at the compliment from Daphne. Was it a compliment? Daphne had never been unkind to her at school, but Hermione felt her guard go up.

“Thank you. Yes, it’s muggle.”  

“I like it.” Pansy added. Hermione felt even more self-conscious. Whenever Lavender and Parvati had conversations about clothes in their dorm room, Hermione didn’t tend to take part, having made an active decision to dress as plainly as possible at Hogwarts in order to reduce any chance of bullying or comments about being muggleborn. Everyone knew that, if you wanted to be mean to a girl, appearance was the first thing that was attacked.

“Muggle fashion isn’t that different to wizarding fashion,” she said hesitantly, “just, less billowing robes and women’s clothes tend to be a bit more exposing. Shorter skirts, lower necklines. At least, they are these days…”

Pansy seemed to think for a moment.

“I think I like the sound of muggle fashion.”

“Me too,” Blaise piped up from where he was sat, sending a wink in Hermione’s direction.

“Hey! Stop that!” Theo slapped him across the arm. Harry laughed and the girls joined in, while Malfoy sent a withering glare in his friend’s direction.

“So,” Pansy leant back in her chair, her elbow resting on the arm of the chair and her glass of champagne lifted; despite her age, Hermione thought she looked like a 1950s film star, “besides being the mysterious daughter of the House of Black, I’m sure we’ll come back to that, it has been brought to our attention that, one Hermione Granger, notorious goody two shoes and swot, is actually a frequent rule breaker.”

“I… what?” Hermione felt under pressure as the group of Slytherins all focussed their attention on her. What were they talking about? Harry didn’t meet her eyes when she looked in his direction. “Harry?”

“Harold here decided to regale us with tales of your first few years at Hogwarts. It was a form of bonding. So far, we’ve covered; troll, contraband dragon, three-headed dog, obstacle course of ludicrous tasks, resulting in the murder of one Professor Quirrell, Polyjuice potion, time-turner and releasing a fugitive.” Pansy ticked off the items.

Malfoy wasn’t looking at her, instead smirking at his glass, once Pansy finished speaking, he looked up and clocked her staring at him, “Anything he’s missed, Granger?”

“Nothing that you need to know about.” She replied, her tone snappier than she had intended. Habit. She continued more calmly, with a wide grin, “I can’t be letting you Slytherins into all of my secrets, Malfoy. I’d like to retain some element of mystery.”

“Meow,” Pansy laughed.

Hermione turned her attention to Harry and swatted at him with a napkin, “You’re a terrible secret keeper.”

“They knew most of them!” Harry had raised his arms in defence, “I just filled in some gaps. Malfoy knew about the dragon, obviously, Professor Quirrell wasn’t exactly a secret, rumours were all over the school… I... I just added more detail.”

“We already knew about the time-turner. Daph and I figured it out." Theo offered.

“But, how?!”

“You had classes with us that just didn’t make sense.”

“We have eyes.” Both Theo and Daphne answered at the same time.

“You looked stressed and didn’t eat as much.” Malfoy spoke just a fraction later than his friends, resulting in his observation standing alone. There was a moment of silence and Hermione felt herself involuntarily blushing. Why am I blushing? Had he been watching her at school? Not even Harry noticed my eating habits change. She focussed her attention on the table, thereby not seeing the stupid grins that Theo and Pansy shared, the scoff Blaise hid behind his hand, the knowing look Daphne sent in Malfoy’s direction and the confusion riddled all over Harry’s face.  

“You’ll find Slytherin’s are far more intuitive than your pack of lions.” Pansy said, stifling a laugh.

The dinner was pleasant. Hermione tried to focus her attention on Harry and Theo, who had reignited their competition to see who her best friend was. Every so often, Pansy and Daphne would enter the conversation, genuine and polite. It took a while, but she was beginning to ease into their company, and she felt more comfortable letting her guard down when it became apparent that, either because they had been instructed by the Malfoy’s or for some other unknown reason, they weren’t going to launch into petty name calling. The greatest shock was Malfoy, who not only seemed happy chatting to Harry, but at one point became engaged in a lively and cordial conversation, in fluent French, with her Grandmere. That, that had been unexpected. Hermione was sorry not to be close enough to get a good idea of what they were discussing and was left even more in the dark when both parties looked up at her at the same time to catch her staring at them. Her Grandmere had given her a look that Hermione knew to associate with mischief, while Malfoy had plastered his face with a shit eating grin and winked at her. He fucking winked.  

When the meal was finished, Hermione’s sense of unease came back, exacerbated by the unilateral decision made by the adults, that the ‘talk’ they were going to have would take place without Hermione.

“But, you’re going to be talking about me!”

“Yes, to an extent. But, we are also going to be talking about us,” her father indicated to her mother and Grandmother.

“We don’t know what’s going to come out of this, and I promise you, we will tell you everything, but just let us, the grownups, wrap our heads around whatever this is, first. Okay?”

“But…”

“Hermione,” Remus stepped in, “Whatever happened, took place in the midst of a war… It’s best we hear anything first, before burdening you.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she felt the fight leave her.

“Fine,” she huffed.

The adults walked inside, leaving Hermione stood, watching them go. The remaining teenagers didn’t speak, uncertain of how to proceed with their conversations after watching the scene that had played out in front of them; they all knew what was being discussed inside. It was Malfoy who spoke first,

“Come on, Granger. Let’s all head down to the pool. It’s um… nice to look at this time of the evening. The fire faeries come out.” Hermione felt her head move slowly to where he was now stood. His face was neutral, but she could see a flicker of concern in his steel grey eyes. Steel grey? More silver in this light, she found herself thinking. She shook the thought from her head. Pansy and Daphne pushed back their chairs and walked towards her, each looping an arm with hers as if they’d been friends for years. They led her to the pool, the boys trailing behind. Behind them, she heard Blaise chuckle,

“Honestly, Draco? Fire faeries?”

His comment was followed by the sound of someone being hit, a groan and a burst of laughter from Theo and Harry.

Lucius processed the group through the chateau and into his and Narcissa’s private study. Sirius flinched as he entered, recognizing the room as one he only associated with scolding and lectures. He was glad to see that Cissa had redecorated. It took the edge off slightly.

“You have a beautiful home, Narcissa.” Helen gazed around the space, her voice wavering, whether in response to the display of opulence or the circumstance, Sirius wasn’t sure.

“Thank you. The chateau has been in Lucius’ family since the 14^th century. The Malfoy’s have renovated and added to it over the years, but I’m grateful to have had the chance to put my stamp on it. It used to be far gloomier.” Narcissa tried to lighten the mood and Lucius picked up on the cue.

“That it did; Narcissa has done wonders to make it feel more like a home.”

Everyone sat and Lucius, after giving his guests a heads up, called for a house elf to take drink orders. Both Helen and Richard were startled by the sudden pop and appearance of the strange creature and continued to eye the thing up and down as they hesitantly made their drink orders. Colette, Sirius noticed, barely gave the big eared elf a second glance as she asked for a glass of Pineau.

“So,” Richard took a large gulp of his whiskey, wincing slightly as it went down, “what happens now?”

“Sirius mentioned that you have been experiencing ‘memories’, Madame Laurent?” Lucius stepped forward from where he was leant against his desk. 

“I believe you are all aware of my diagnosis?” Colette asked the room, she didn’t expect a response and simply continued. “It was unclear for some time whether what I was remembering was, shall we say, fact or fiction.”

Sirius appreciated the no nonsense tone that she set; it wasn’t dissimilar to how Augusta Longbottom or Dorea Potter commanded a room.

“We understand,” Narcissa said softly, “Maybe, you could start at the beginning?”

“You weren’t surprised when you learnt that Hermione was a witch, because you had met a wizarding couple?” Remus’ voice was also quiet and gentle.

Sirius watched Colette take a sip of her drink before she set it to the side and composed herself. Sirius thought she grew tall where she was sat. And then she began.

“Yes. I’ll admit,” she turned to her daughter and son-in-law, “I surprised myself by my own admission that day. I had seen Hermione perform unbelievable things as a child, but hadn’t questioned it in the past, a trick of the light and such, but then I saw that book float across the room, and I found myself asking whether she was a witch before I had the chance to realise what I was saying. The next thing I knew I was announcing that I’d met a wizard before; two of them, no less! The words came out of my mouth without my knowing why, or what, I was saying. But, as soon as I had, I knew in my heart that it was true, even if I couldn’t place how I knew it. Prior to that moment, had you asked me if magic was real, I am uncertain of how I would have replied.”

“Then, as the years passed and I began to forget elements of my own day to day, I gained flickers of a past that felt like mine, but I couldn’t place. One day, I remembered a boy,” Sirius tried not to react, “a boy with sharp eyes and jet-black hair and an aristocratic French accent and air about him. He looked so out of place in the market in Confolen; as if he’d stepped into another world. I asked him to help me pack away my market stall, just to get him out of the way of everything else going on. He must have been Hermione’s age at the time. The same boy returned the following summer and hunted me out, he sat with me on the stall, helping with sales. I can’t quite get a sense of how often he did it, but I know,” and she placed emphasis on the word, “I know that he trusted me, and I him. I know that he needed an escape that I could provide. He talked about a boarding school, falling out with a brother he was in awe of, of loving a boy he didn’t think returned his affection, and the weight of his family name. Sometimes, you would be there, Helene, and you would talk to him about music and your schoolwork.”

“I knew him?” Helen raised her hand to her mouth, whether out of realisation or shock, Sirius couldn’t tell.

Colette continued regardless,

“One year, I don’t know when, he arrived to help again, as I think, now, he must have done every summer, but this time he looked gaunt and drawn. He spoke less and was nervous. I am a mother,” she said proudly, looking at her daughter, “I invited him for dinner, and after some persuasion he agreed.”

“The conversation we had that day is… fuzzy, but I know that he cried,” she paused, “I know that I comforted him, that I told him my home was a safe space if he ever needed it and that my door was always open to him.”

Sirius could hear Narcissa sniffing and could sense Lucius reaching to his pocket to retrieve a handkerchief for her. Remus hand was firm on his arm. Sirius’ own heart felt like it was trying to burst out of his chest trying to extend love and gratitude toward the old French woman in front of him, whilst also breaking at the same time.

“And then… he didn’t return for a while. That is, until he arrived on my doorstep. He looked older and worn and tired beyond his years. It was on that occasion that he rattled off a wild story about magic, wizards and an evil dictator. He floated my furniture around and popped himself from one room in the house to the next as proof. He said he needed a place to escape and asked that I give it to him. I saw him a number of times across that year and then, one day, he introduced us to his friend; a lovely woman, pregnant and radiant.” Colette turned again to her daughter, “You and Richard were visiting that summer. You had just got engaged and you, Helene, were happy to see the boy again, and make friends with the woman. He and the girl weren’t around all the time, sometimes they left for weeks at a time, but…”

“You always set a place for them at the dinner table…” Helen whispered under her breath, voice quivering. Colette just smiled to herself.

“Each time they arrived they were stressed and taut, but we made sure that, every time they left, they left with their shoulders loose and faces peaceful. Richard, you would play chess with the boy and, Helene, you would spend hours in the pool with the woman or helping me in the kitchen. But then,” her face shifted so drastically, from happy memories to something other, and the entire room seemed to still, “then, they arrived in the middle of the night, and she was so heavily pregnant. They were in a panic and she was in labour. They refused to go to the hospital or let us call for help. Helene and I delivered the baby in my bedroom, while Richard kept the boy calm.” Her eyes were closed. “The boy was adamant, shouting that the baby wasn’t safe, and he all but demanded that we care for her until whatever danger they were in had passed.” Sirius watched as the elderly lady’s face screwed up slightly, wrinkles growing around her eyes, as if she was trying to force a memory to the surface.

“There were… there were people to contact, if we hadn’t heard from them after a month. And then, they were gone.” She let out a large sigh.

“I’m afraid, that is where things blur again. I see visions of my dear Hermione, wrapped in pink in a hospital ward, laid beside my beautiful daughter’s bed and Richard at her side, while simultaneously I see a strong, glowing witch, drenched in sweat, in my master bedroom, handing my daughter a baby, swaddled in my bathroom towel. Those memories, live side by side in my head. Clearly, ‘people’ were never contacted, and memories were lost. But I know in my heart,” and she clutched her chest and rubbed her hand across her sternum, “that I never saw my precious Reggie Black again.”

No one knew how to respond. Cissa was quietly weeping. Lucius’ grip on his drink looked like an active attempt to question the integrity of the glass it was held in. Remus’ face was covered by his hands and Richard and Helen’s fingers were intwined so tight that Sirius, through a haze of tears, couldn’t make out where one hand began and the other ended.

“Thank you,” he managed to croak out, his voice cracking in the silence of the room. His feet moved without him telling them to, until he was knelt on the floor in front of Colette, her hands in his.

“Thank you for helping my brother when I couldn’t.”

“Everything,” Helen began, “everything you’ve said feels so familiar, Maman. It’s like a dream or a sentence on the tip of my tongue that I can’t quite say out loud.”

“I feel the same,” Richard gave his wife’s hand a squeeze.

“That will be the effect of the obliviation, memory removal.” Lucius spoke, his own voice low and broken, “For most people, when memories are removed, they may encounter things in their day to day life that are reminiscent of the extracted memories, but they tend to be so fleeting in thought, that a person would never feel anything more than déjà vu. With context though, elaboration, or continued exposure, the sense of what’s missing can feel more present.”

Sirius wondered why the man knew so much on the topic. No doubt from his time as a shady supporter of the monster that had sent Regulus to his death, he fumed internally. He failed to school his emotions and Colette coughed slightly, bringing his attention back to her face. Just looking at her offered him a sense of calm, and Sirius could see in that moment how Reggie had felt able to open up to her. She was the embodiment of a safe space. And that realisation was what made Sirius crack, as his heart finally succumbed to the emotion of the evening. He crumpled, a weeping mess on the floor at the feet of the woman who had opened her home and her heart to his brother when he had no one else to turn too. The woman who had seen a boy in need of love and care and had given it to him unflinchingly. Sirius thought of Dorea Potter, his mother in everything but name, who had done the same for him, and he thought of the promises that he and Reggie had made to each other before they left for Hogwarts; promises that neither boy had been able to keep. He thought of the years wasted in Azkaban, Harry’s abuse at the Dursley’s and the number of full moons Remus had spent on his own mourning his pack. And finally, he thought of his scared and panicked brother, at the side of a pregnant woman, so desperate to protect the child that he had turned to a muggle woman and her daughter for help, and Sirius sobbed; held up by the arms of Colette Laurent.

After a while, Remus joined him on the floor and slowly lifted him onto the sofa, running soothing circles over his back in an attempt to calm him down.

“I… I’m so… I’m so sorry. Helen, Richard… Colette… this is much more for you than it is for me… Hermi-“ he felt foolish at his breakdown, in the presence of people whose grasp on who they were as a family was being shattered, piece by piece.

“No, Sirius, you don’t need to apologise. I don’t know if it’s because of how Lucius explained it, but it feels maybe like there’s an understanding now…” Richard said, it was as much a question to himself as a statement to the room.

Helen picked up where her husband left off, her voice colder in contrast, but sensitive and without anger, “...an understanding that we love Hermione, fiercely and with all of our hearts but that, deep down, she was never ours to keep, but she was ours to protect.”

Chapter Text

Malfoy wasn’t lying when he said that the pool area was pretty in the golden hour sun. House elves, Hermione presumed, had lit floating jars of flame that hovered around the various tables and loungers surrounding the pool. Festoon lights adorned the stone walls that enclosed the area, casting shadows and illuminating archways cut into the stone and revealing the gardens beyond. Across the water, small fire faeries danced, their wings creating small ripples on the water whenever they got too tempted by the glittering reflections below. Orange sparks meeting the dark blue, flickering gently in the dwindling sun.

“What do you thinking they’re saying?” Theo picked at the paint on the cast iron table he was sat at. Hermione had made her way to the edge of the pool, kicking off her shoes and dangling her feet in the water. Harry joined her on one side, and, to her surprise, Pansy was on the other, copying Hermione by removing her shoes and swishing her feet in the water. Blaise and Daphne had chosen to sit with Theo and Malfoy was, performatively, if you asked Hermione, stalking around the pool, hands clasped behind his back like the pureblood prince he was.

“They’ll be trying to find out how much Grandmere knows. I heard my parents talking the other night, it appears that as her…” she paused and looked to Harry, who simply twitched his lip in encouragement, “as her dementia has progressed, she’s also begun remembering ‘stuff’. She essentially told Sirius, when he arrived to collect us, that he wasn’t as attractive as his brother.” She chuckled, trying to release some of her nerves and was grateful when it caused the others to join in. 

“Is that even possible? Daphne tried, and failed, to say under her breath.

“Yeah… where would one find pictures of Regulus Black? For research purposes…” Theo exclaimed, while Harry simply wondered out loud how Sirius’ ego had taken the comment.

“He was remarkably good about it! Although, now I think about it, I did see him checking himself out in the rear-view car mirror quite a few times throughout the journey,” she snorted. She had thought that he had been checking on his passengers in the back seat, but now that she replayed the memory in her head, he had definitely been making more of an assessment of himself than them. The realisation made her laugh momentarily, but it wasn’t long before her intrusive thoughts tried to take over again and she turned her focus back to the faeries on the water. Harry noticed her focus drifting and her grip on the poolside increase.

“Okay. I think we need to induct Hermione into the tragic club.” His abrupt tone broke Hermione out of her thoughts.

“You don’t get to make that decision, Potter,” Blaise protested.

“You told me, sworn enemy of Slytherin, and I’m here because of her. And, I have it on good authority that the sorting hat wanted her to join you snakes and she’s a Black. Fess up.”

“No shit, you were nearly a snake?” Blaise let out a whistle as he considered the information. Hermione just shrugged in reply, sending ripples across the pool as she swirled her feet in the water.

“When did Potter get so bossy?” Daphne chuckled.

“I don’t know, but I like it,” Pansy laughed, she had her head tilted back and eyes closed, enjoying the dwindling warmth of the setting sun.

“Me too.” Theo piped up, sending a look in Harry’s direction that the raven-haired boy completely missed but Hermione caught out of the corner of her eye, “I’m all for Mia joining the trauma child gang.”

“If we must,” was all Malfoy replied from the far side of the pool.

And so, Hermione spent the next while learning some particularly sensitive information about the Slytherins. Harry even divulged more information about his time with the Dursleys; Hermione was surprised to listen to him willingly confess his treatment under their roof in front of people he’d only known for a few days. As they sat around the pool, Hermione felt something shift and a barrier break. Pansy’s hand on top of hers, offered in comfort as she spoke about the events of the last couple of weeks, felt natural and genuine even if she didn't know why the dark haired girl was giving her the time of day. Daphne’s laugh was light and sincere, not mocking as Hermione had always assumed at school. She came to realise as well, that Blaise’s sarky comments manifested from a place of defence and weren’t reserved purely for Gryffindors; the verbal sparring between himself, Theo and Pansy felt like a sport and each gave as good as they got. And Malfoy, well, it was going to take some time, but he seemed to be slowly easing into both her and Harry’s presence. The faeries had gone some way to distract her from what was happening indoors, but it was the teenagers surrounding her, strangers essentially, who had truly given her what she needed in the moment and she realised that, barring Harry, no one else had ever been that vulnerable with her.

“What’s with the nicknames?” Blaise asked, his eyes flicking between Hermione and Harry.

“What do you mean?”

“Pup, kitten, prongslet (whatever the fuck that is), Moony, Pads…” Hermione was surprised that Blaise had picked up on all of the various monikers over the course of the evening. She looked to Harry and let him answer.

“Um, well, pup and kitten are just what they call us two. But I think it’s because of their past.” The Slytherin’s looked at him expectantly, “So… my Dad, Sirius, Remus and Pettigrew were all friends, yeah? They called themselves ‘The Marauders’. I get the impression they were essentially the Weasley twins of their time. Sirius, Remus and Pettigrew became Animagi to help Remus through the full moon.”

“Moony!” Theo shouted, first to make the link.

Harry startled slightly, but continued, “Yeah, so Remus was nicknamed Moony. Sirius’ animagus is a dog, so Padfoot –“

“Paddy feet!” Theo flopped his hands up and down, pleased with himself.

“My dad’s animagus was a stag, so ‘Prongs’, hence Prongslet.”

“Not so obvious…” Pansy mumbled. Harry ignored her.

“Pettigrew’s animagus was a rat - ‘Wormtail’.” Harry grimaced.

“Woooo, he pulled the short straw, no wonder he picked the Dark Lord!” Theo laughed, and the others joined in. Harry looked irritated for a second before he couldn’t help but laugh as well; it really was a terrible name, even if it had been given by friends.

“So, Prongslet is because you’re ‘Prongs’ kid?” Blaise asked, wiping a tear from his eye and recovering from his laughing fit. Harry nodded.

“But why pup and kitten?”

“I don’t know, I don’t mind it. It’s like we’re part of their pack. I’m Sirius’ Godson and Hermione is Remus’. It’s just a thing.”

“It’s cute,” Daphne sighed in a similar way to how the women on the tube had done when the two men had referred to the teenagers by their nicknames.

“Do you think they’ll ask Snape to visit to, you know, see if he can reverse the memories more?” Harry asked. As much as he initially looked genuine in his question and the serious of the situation, his face began twisting, morphing into a wry grin.

“I don’t know, maybe...” Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, trying to get a gauge on why he was so interested in the answer.

“I kind of want him to come just to see what he looks like in 25 degree plus heat,” Harry chuckled to himself, a wide smile forming on his face, “I’m picturing Hawaiian shirts and shorts.”

Hermione laughed and knocked her shoulder against Harry’s.

“You’ll be sorely disappointed I’m afraid,” Malfoy’s voice came from across the pool, his tall figure just an outline in the low light. He began to make his way closer to the group.

“I’ve seen him here, midsummer and during a heat wave, and he still refused to wear anything other than black. He just kept casting cooling charms every few minutes and complaining when he thought mother couldn’t hear. She found it infuriating.”

Harry’s shoulders sagged.

“Hmph, that’s disappointing.”

“Oh, Merlin’s fucking dirty pants!” Pansy groaned, pulling everyone’s attention in her direction.

“What the fu-“ Theo started, looking around to try and find the cause of her friends outburst.

“What’s wrong, Pans?” Daphne also looked cautious of her surroundings, unsure as to what had set her friend off.

“Fucking Snape is going to give Granger points in Potions now, isn’t he? Because he’s her godfather…” Pansy looked around at the rest of the group, as if they should have all come to some conclusion based on her comment, “It’s the only class where we actually get an edge points wise and now that’s gone!” Her voice was whiney, and she crossed her arms childishly as she flicked the pool water with her feet.

“Battle of the godchildren,” Blaise pointed between Hermione and Malfoy.

“We’re never winning the house cup again.” Pansy dramatically collapsed to the floor, her back on the stone, her feet still dangling in the water.

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Hermione cautiously patted the witch's hand in an attempt to console her, “I told Professor Snape not to begin treating me differently just because of who I am now. If he changes how he acts towards me, I want it to be because he realised that, as a teacher, he should be a biased bully with a superiority complex.” She stuck her nose in the air slightly, causing Pansy to laugh.

“Merlin, that’s such a Gryffindorian and Granger response. Although…. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say anything negative about a teacher before.” Pansy rose of the floor, resting on her elbows. Her face was mischievous.

"The new birth right didn’t result in a personality transplant, Parkinson. You just haven’t given me the time of day to find out.”

Pansy didn’t appear perturbed by the bite in her reply. Apparently, this kind of back and forth was child’s play in Slytherin house.

“We’ll see, exposure to us snakes might develop a latent talent for blackmail and emotional manipulation.”

“To be fair…” Harry began.

“Oo! Potter has more Mia tales,” Theo clapped his hands in glee like a toddler.

“You did manipulate Lockhart into signing that permission slip to the restricted section by playing to his ego.”

Blaise, Daphne and Theo were laughing.

“See, that, we can work with!” Pansy exclaimed, sitting upright again, hands in the air.

“Of course, you would use manipulation when the library is involved.” Hermione spun around to find Malfoy now sat behind her, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles and hands clasped across his abdomen, fingers interlaced. She hadn’t noticed him move there; her attention having been focussed on Pansy. He had a slight smirk to his lips, which increased when she mirrored his expression and he didn’t flinch as she met his eyes.

“What can I say? It looks like you’ve found my kryptonite.” She maintained his stare, as his eyebrows furrowed, presumably at her use of a muggle phrase he didn’t understand. Theo could be heard in the distance asking for clarification. It was a light cough from Pansy and Harry’s bungled attempt to explain who Superman was that broke the staring contest. Hermione turned back to the pool, oblivious to the fact that Malfoy continued to study her, as she sat, her silhouette bathed in the glow of the setting sun.  

“I think we might need more drinks?” Lucius asked the room. His voice sounded hoarse and didn’t have the same authoritative tone Sirius was used to.

“Yes, dear God, yes.” Richard sighed, minutely alleviating the tension by his outburst and inducing wet chuckles from Sirius and Remus. Cissa had moved to Helen’s side, where she hovered in a protective manner, whispering soothing things into her ear. Once Sirius had calmed down, aided by two glasses of firewhiskey, hastily thrown back, the conversation restarted.

“I can’t believe that we knew your brother, and Lysa,” Richard shook his head. Sirius watched as Colette gave him a pitiful smile.

“I thought you looked familiar when we first met, but I just put it down to you being plastered all over our news. I guess I should assume now that something in my subconscious made the connection,” Helen proceeded to give Sirius’ face a thorough study, as if staring at him would elicit the return of her memories. Sirius was happy to let her do what she needed, but after a while she gave up.

“Ugh, I hate not remembering! The feeling that I can’t trust my own memories anymore.”

“Obliviation, whether used on wizards or muggles, but particularly muggles, is a complete abuse of power and unacceptable. We’re so sorry,” Remus said, and both Helen and Richard nodded in acknowledgment. Sirius knew that both he and Remus had apologised a number of times already but, until his dying day, he would never be able to shake the guilt over the situation the wizarding world had put the Grangers in.

“It is just that, an extreme abuse of power and illegal unless used in accordance with our laws. Memory removal is usually only used in our world to uphold the statute of secrecy, or in medical settings - cases of extreme trauma for example - and even then, it requires sign off from two medics and is only used when all other forms of treatment have been considered.” Lucius had his legal head on. “I am more than happy to bring this to tribunal should we get to the bottom of what happened.”

“Do you think it was Regulus and Lysa?” Richard asked the room. How he spoke was slightly stilted and Sirius picked up on the inflection in his voice; Richard didn’t appear comfortable using either person’s names, the syllables awkward on his tongue. Or maybe that’s a result of obliviation? Sirius pondered.

“No, he wouldn’t. They wouldn’t.” Colette’s voice was strong and steadfast.

Sirius couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, but he found himself bristling slightly at her unwavering belief in his brother. It wasn’t that he disagreed with the woman but, until he had learnt about Hermione and Regulus’ hopes to defect, he wouldn’t have hesitated to accuse his brother of such a thing. The fact that there was someone, unrelated to the family, who had that much trust in Reg when he hadn’t, hurt.

“I want my memories back.” Helen’s face was set, and Sirius could see in that moment where Hermione got her headstrong stubbornness. It pleased him to see that, biological or not, there were elements of both Richard and Helen in the girl. Nurture over nature, he thought, or whatever that phrase was that Lily had said once upon a time - although, now he thought about it, he was sure when she had used it in relation to how he had managed to break free from his family, the opposite had applied. 

"Can that gloomy wizard you introduced us to, do it? Professor Snake?” Richard contributed, his description of Sirius’ childhood nemesis prompting an instinctual bark of laughter from his lips. Sirius’ eyes flicked to Remus, who was taking a well-timed sip of his drink, conveniently hiding his smirk behind the glass tumbler in his hands. Sirius tried to sound neutral as he responded.

"Professor Snape,” Sirius corrected, making a popping sound on the ‘p’ that didn’t go unnoticed by Remus who began coughing into the crease of his elbow. With immense effort, Sirius successfully swallowed a laugh and continued. After all, this was a serious conversation.

“The last time we spoke, Severus seemed confident that he would be able to return some, if not all, of your memories.” He gave himself a personal pat on the back for managing not to make any additional comments until he noticed the glare on Narcissa’s face. Apparently, he hadn’t hidden his amusement as well as he had thought.

“Colette, the fact that your retelling of events has already provoked a response from both Richard and Helen, emotional or at core level, is encouraging.” Lucius ignored Sirius and Remus; Remus was currently staring with intense focus at his shoes, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

“We’ll work to whatever timeline you wish to take. Severus,” Narcissa emphasised his name and threw Sirius a withering look, “has informed me that he will be available whenever, and however, you wish to proceed.”

“Thank you, Narcissa,” both Colette and Helen replied. The women in the room already appeared quite fond of each other.

“I must confess, this isn’t quite how we intended to spend our summer holiday.”

“Of course. Maybe, as you are in the area, we could continue to host you? We have plenty of rooms and we could see whether, what’s the term, ‘exposure therapy’, works in anyway? We could give you some time before we call Severus. Spending time around magic, hearing names and such may induce the return of memories in a less abrupt manner.” It was Lucius who made the suggestion and Sirius was taken aback by both his generosity and willingness to invite muggles into his home for a potentially prolonged period of time. An evening was one thing, a permanent guest in the Malfoy house was another thing entirely. Remus looked similarly surprised for a moment before locking eyes with him shrugging in acceptance of Lucius’ offer.

“We wouldn’t want to impose –“ Richard and Helen looked between themselves, a silent conversation built on years of love and devotion taking place.

“I can assure you that your staying, should you wish to, will not be an imposition in the slightest,” Narcissa looked positively gleeful at the prospect and gave Lucius an adoring look, proud that he, out of all of the people present, had made the offer to the muggle couple.

“We’ll speak to Hermione. Although, I can’t imagine her turning up the opportunity to spend more time with Harry… and Theo.”

A house elf called the teenagers back into the house and Harry watched as Hermione was separated from the group to be informed as to whatever had taken place in her absence. The look she gave him as she walked away was clear; he would know almost as soon as she did.

“She’ll tell you, you’ll tell us, right?” Theo asked, clocking the interaction.

“With her permission.” Harry locked eyes with the curly haired boy and he seemed to concede.

They settled into the evening, waiting for Hermione to return. The girls opened magazines, while Harry joined the boys for a four-way chess match. He was extremely under skilled, and he made a note to buy Ron a board for his birthday. He’d written to Ron when he first arrived but hadn’t received a reply. It had bothered him initially, but he had since come to the conclusion that Pigwidgeon was small and Errol was old, so maybe it made sense that they weren’t making continental journeys. He returned to his game, not caring that he was being crushed by Malfoy.

Hermione returned and, to Harry’s surprise, rather than pulling him to the side to give him the details separately, she gave the entire room a run-down of what the adults had discussed, validating her decision by saying that ‘they were all going to find out at some point’.

Once she had finished filling them in, Harry watched as she closed herself off, picking up a book from the coffee table and curling her feet underneath herself on the sofa. He caught her eye and received a familiar look that meant that he was supposed to leave her to her thoughts.

Every so often he looked up from his game to check on her. Despite how much she was trying, he could tell that her attention wasn’t focussed on the text in front of her. She was spinning a curl of hair in her fingers and closing her eyes periodically as if she was figuring something out. He resigned himself to the fact that there was no chance he was going to win his game of chess while she was acting as she was; he knew his friend too well, and could see that there was something else on her mind that she was desperate to get out. Finally, to Harry’s relief, she spoke again.

“I have a question to ask you all,” she rested her book on the arm of the chair and sat herself up into a more upright position. Pansy and Daphne followed suit and the boys on the floor paused their game.

“What’s up, Mia?” Theo was worrying his bottom lip.

“Um, well, it’s mainly a question for Malfoy, but it will impact all of you as well.”

Malfoy’s eyebrows rose in curiosity, and Harry wondered what Hermione could have to ask the blonde wizard specifically. Hermione focussed her attention on Malfoy.

“Your parents have asked whether my family would like to spend some of the holiday here. I don’t think all,” she hastily added, “but definitely some of it. They think it might help to jog my parent’s memories, by being around magic and such. But this is your holiday… all of your holidays,” she scanned the group, “and we don’t really know each other. I don’t want my family to intrude if it’ll make any of you uncomfortable. I know… I know it’s not what you’d like ideally.”

Harry watched her bite her lip and focus her attention on her hands, breaking eye contact with Malfoy. As Harry expected, Malfoy’s face morphed into one of surprise, however, Harry couldn’t tell whether it was in response to the offer from his parents or the fact Hermione was asking permission. Before he could respond, Theo jumped in,

“It’s a fucking hell yes from me! I’ve never had a family holiday!”

“Doesn’t bother me,” Blaise shrugged, taking Theo’s lead in replying.

“Me neither, having another girl around evens the numbers and it’ll be really lovely to get to know you better.” Daphne gave Hermione a smile.  

“I’ve never spent any time around muggles…” Pansy mused, “… consider me intrigued. I’m cool with it.”

With that, Pansy flicked her hair behind her shoulder and returned to reading. Harry knew he didn’t need to give Hermione an answer, she knew he’d want her there, so that left Malfoy.

“If everyone else is fine with it, so am I,” Malfoy hadn’t stopped looking at Hermione since she had asked the original question.

“Are you sure? It’s –“

“I’m sure, Granger, the more the merrier and…” Harry watched Malfoy pause, he seemed unsure of what to say next, “Uncle Sev gave me Damocles Belby’s draft of his latest book, you’ll appreciate it more than these dunderheads.”

Various members of the group protested at the comment, but Hermione smiled and offered a small ‘thank you’.

And with that the conversation was over.

Draco went to bed that night worn out by the sun and from socialising. He had been anxious at the idea of spending what was his first, prolonged, period of time with muggles. He was quick to realise, as he had begun to conclude recently, that they were just normal people. Yes, he had overheard them mention various objects and customs he wasn’t familiar with, and they used phrases he didn’t understand, but that could be said for any wizard from a foreign country, right?  His parents had gone out of their way to reduce the amount of magic that they had used in the Granger’s presence, and the evening had gone smoothly; they hadn’t struggled without the constant drawing of wands to complete menial tasks. He had even had a pleasant chat with Granger’s grandmother and found the woman endearing. It helped that the conversation had predominantly involved her telling him embarrassing tales about Granger, involving a first crush that apparently looked very similar to himself. He tucked that away for another day. Granger’s shock at finding the two talking and the irritated look she gave him when she realised that she couldn’t overhear them was the cherry on top.

The Granger’s had left, with an understanding that they would return the following day to join the ever-growing party staying at the chateau. Theo was over the moon, wittering away as Narcissa shooed the remaining children up the stairs to bed. Even Pansy and Daphne seemed excited at the prospect of Granger joining them; Daphne he could understand, she was never one to hold a grudge and had classes with Granger, but Pansy was an enigma. He knew that her family had remained neutral during the war and her father had spoken up for Sirius at the Wizengamot hearing, yes, following his father’s lead, but it wasn’t insignificant. In contrast, Pansy had never shied away from picking on Granger. He was keen to get his friend alone to try and get to the bottom of why she was being so open to spending time with his family’s guests. Out of all of his group, he had been sure that she would have been the largest opposition to the Gryffindor’s being brought into the pureblood circle.

He sighed, lying back on his pillow and running his hand through his hair. His window was open, and he could hear the sound of cicadas outside and the movement of his curtains as they brushed the floor in the breeze. His world was off kilter, and he found that it was quite okay with it

Chapter Text

Draco couldn’t find any other way to describe the next couple of days, apart from that they were bizarre… truly bizarre. Draco watched as the Granger’s seamlessly ingratiated themselves into his family and friend’s routine; joining them for breakfast, chatting with his parents, spending time around the pool. He wasn’t bothered as such, it was just, well, bizarre.

Theo, the ball of energy that he was, flittered from one group to the next. Sirius had made good on his promise to take him out in the car, and even Draco had enjoyed the experience. In his opinion, it didn’t top flying, but it was almost as invigorating. The growl of the engine definitely added to the experience, a constant reminder of the speed they were going. Based on what Sirius had said, a motorbike seemed more his cup of tea. The freedom that a broom afforded but attached to the ground. Maybe he’d see if he could convince Sirius to let him have a go on one once they were back in England. Lord Black didn't seem to be the type to say no. When Theo wasn’t hovering around Sirius, he was with Remus, chatting and asking questions, but more often than not, they just spent quiet time together. Draco could sense that Theo just appreciated being in the wolf’s company. Theo had also decided that it was his duty to get to the know the Granger’s as much as possible, and Draco frequently found an exasperated Richard trying to explain some form of muggle technology to the wide-eyed boy, while Helen, Colette and his mother watched in amusement.

Granger, similarly, seemed to be trying to balance her time between everyone, although, unlike Theo’s chaotic approach, she appeared to be actively trying to maintain an equilibrium; making sure that everyone was okay. Draco noticed that she didn’t appear particularly relaxed, but she had definitely eased into the current status quo. A couple of days into their stay he overheard a conversation between Granger, Pansy and Daphne that had made him feel more settled in her presence. He had been hovering outside the living room, while the girls had been sat having what appeared to be a cordial discussion. He had been about to enter when silence descended, and he held back.

“What’s on your mind Hermione?” Daphne was quick to sense the shift.

“I… I just don’t know why you’re both being so nice to me.” Granger’s voice was meek, and Draco stilled, trying not to breathe in anticipation of what his friends would say next.

“We never disliked you.”

Draco was surprised at Pansy’s reply and she followed it with a long sigh.

“Well, maybe we did, but, for me, everything I’ve said and done has come from a place of jealousy.”

“Jealousy?” Granger sounded suitably shocked, Merlin, Draco was shocked.

“Why on earth would you be jealous of me?” Her tone was riddled in what sounded like concern rather than anger. Whatever she was seeing on Pansy’s face had caused her to feel worried.

“Do you know how brilliant you are?” Pansy asked. There was a pause.

“Magically, you’re besting everyone in our year, including Draco, and as a muggleborn at that. Obviously, we know different now, but that makes no difference. Muggleborn or not, you’re brilliant. And then, as well as being magically amazing, you are never afraid to be yourself. You don't cower to the expectations of our world, aren't ashamed to be you, no matter what people think or what we sent your way. It’s just not the same for me. I was jealous of that. Yes, I threw certain slurs your way, but they were more because I was expected to than because I believed them. You don’t know what it’s like growing up in this world. I said those things because a part of me wanted to see if there was anything that would make you break in the way I knew I would if the same was done to me.”

“I…”

“I like girls. As in a fancy girls. And I like quidditch. I’d play for the house team if I could. But, my parents… They check up on me, you know. Sending letters to the prefects to make sure I’m doing my ‘duty’. I don’t get to be who I am, and I’m not brave enough to do what you do and shrug it all off like it doesn’t matter. I was… I am, jealous of that.”

“That’s… I’m so sorry Pansy. I’m sorry that’s how you feel you have to live.”

Draco was stilled by the way Granger used Pansy’s first name; she said it with such softness. He knew all of this about Pansy already, although her reasons for bullying Granger were news to him, but hearing her open up to someone else felt crushing and all he wanted to do was barrel through the doors and give his friend a hug. He had tried to use the Malfoy name in the common room to protect her from her parent’s ire; the two friends had even tried to play up to the idea that there was the potential they were a couple, but they both knew it wasn’t enough. Pansy was too outspoken when she was at home. Inside the room he could hear movement and the sound of Pansy gasping slightly.

“Thank you… Hermione.” The statement was muffled and Draco gathered that she was likely being given the hug he couldn’t provide in that moment.

“Well, I never disliked you.” Daphne said sweetly, and Draco was sure it was paired with a shrug. “In fact, we almost stood up and applauded when you dumped the pumpkin juice on Weasley before the end of term. We were inspired.” The three girls laughed. Apparently, Granger didn’t need any more explanation than that from Daphne.

“I’m really glad to have been given the opportunity to get to know you both better.”

There was a sniff and Pansy’s voice sounded shaky when she spoke again.

“Your weasel isn’t going to enjoy this.”

“He’s not my weasel. And before you start, I’m not condoning that nickname. But you’re right, he’s probably not going to be quite as welcoming as you have been. He’ll just have to get over it.”

“Too right!” Pansy replied.

“Okay, now that that’s out of the way…. Who is Brad Pitt?” Daphne announced.

“More importantly, who is Winona Ryder!” Pansy giggled.

Draco had left the girls to it after that.

“This article is ridiculous.” Lucius slammed the paper on his study table.

Sirius and Richard were engaged in a game of wizard chess, something that Richard had taken to remarkably quickly and with unmatched enthusiasm. Remus was answering letters from various members of the Sacred 28, all of whom were still desperate for an audience with ‘Lord Black’. Outside the squeals of teenagers could be heard, and it filled Sirius’ chest with a glow that couldn’t be replicated by magic. They were happy.

“What are they saying now?” Sirius hardly raised his eyes from the game. Richard had him in a corner and he knew that he was probably a few moves away from checkmate.

“They’re still spouting shit speculation about Hermione. Wondering why she was hidden. We need to get on top of this.” Lucius collapsed in his chair, spinning away from the room to look through the window.

“The families are all eager to know more,” Remus raised his head from the desk he was sat at. “I’m getting fed up of telling them to give us space. You’d think they’d have more etiquette, given the circumstances.”

“Gossip and a new pureblood trumps privacy,” Lucius grumbled.

“I thought you had the media in your pocket?” Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Apparently not as closely as I thought.” Lucius scribbled something on a piece of paper and tied it to the leg of the owl sat to the side of his desk. The owl flew off diligently.

“Is this genuinely your world?” Richard asked, directing a knight on the board forward.

Remus was best placed to answer, so Sirius let him.

“Think ‘royal family’. The Blacks and Malfoys don’t have that kind of power, we don’t have a royal family in the wizarding world, but their lineage branches back centuries. The Malfoy’s to 1066 at least if I remember rightly, the Black’s to the 11^th century as well,” Lucius nodded, “Hermione isn’t just another witch in our world. She’s…”

“Special. Fucking hell, sorry, excuse the language, but I knew you guys were rich, obviously,” Richard waved a hand around the room, “but…”

“Yeah. Let’s just say, I’m fielding a lot of enquiries from the landed gentry at the moment.” Remus chuckled.

“Tell me more about the other families. I want to know. You keep mentioning the ‘Sacred 28’, what does that mean? I know I mean nothing in your world, but I want to know as much as I can about what my daughter is up against.”

Lucius took the reins of the conversation, moving around the room as he gave a detailed breakdown of the history of each family, their politics, and the current active players. Richard and Sirius continued their game of chess, but Richard would interject every so often with questions and observations. Sirius enjoyed that, apparently Richard, just like Hermione, could easily act at the same time as absorbing information. That was, until his hand stilled as he went to move his queen and instead clutched his head in pain.

“Richard?”

“What’s wrong?”

“My head – it feels like, pressure.” He was gasping in between words.

Remus had abandoned his table, casting diagnostics as he moved. Sirius guided Richard to the floor and Lucius silenced the room to prevent the children from hearing Richard shout. Because he was shouting. Loudly and in anguish. After a couple of minutes, Richard stilled, leaning upright on his elbows.

“I… I felt something… I feel like I could almost see something. Do it again.”

“Do what again?” Sirius was cautious, sat on the floor next to the man he was beginning to think of as a friend.

“I don’t know. Something,” Richard winced and shook his head, “whatever we were doing triggered something. I saw… it was hazy, but I was playing chess somewhere, not here, and then I felt anger.”

“I’m not sure what we did.” Lucius hovered near his desk.

“Exposure therapy, right? You said it would possibly work. This has to be that?” Richard was still panting but moved himself back to his seat at the chess table, indicating for Sirius to follow. “We replicate what just happened, eliminating aspects until we know what the trigger was.”

“I don’t like this,” Remus stepped forward, “you were, you still are, in a lot of pain.”

“I’m a full-grown adult, I can make my own decisions.” Richard stared at Remus; he wasn’t one to be questioned. And so, Richard and Sirius returned to their game of chess, and Lucius began his breakdown of the Sacred 28 once again.

Richard collapsed once more, however this time his shouts weren’t so loud. Sirius silently thanked Merlin that it wasn’t as bad as last time.

“Anything?” Lucius was cautious, placing a hand on Richard’s shoulder.

“I saw him. Your brother.” Richard locked eyes with Sirius. “He was angry, but sad. I was trying to calm him, but then he said something, I couldn’t hear it, and suddenly the anger was in me as well.”

“Let’s leave this for today.” Sirius tried to lift Richard off the floor.

“No,” Richard shook him off and made his own way back to his chair, “I’m fed up of being in the dark and my daughter needs answers. We do this again.”

The three wizards in the room looked between themselves. Sirius wasn’t comfortable. For one, Richard had ‘seen’ his brother, for two, he was in pain as they enacted this procedure, if you could call it that, and for three, they had no idea what he might see next. Sirius didn’t know if he was ready.

“We go again. Positions people.” Richard tried to laugh, his face concentrating on the chess board in front of him. Sirius could only follow his lead, taking his seat and trying to remember where they had left the game. Remus and Lucius moved into the background and Lucius began his recant of the Sacred 28 again.

Helen felt like she had done a good job of hiding her fear when she had first entered the Malfoy holiday home. It wasn’t that she was afraid of magic, more that these people were clearly very, very monied. She’d gone to university in Durham and, although it wasn’t Cambridge or Oxford, she was still familiar with what it felt like to spend time with people outside of your social class. She’d met Richard there, so she would never begrudge her experience, but she knew what these people could be like. When the introductions began, she had been tense and on the defensive as she had learnt to be at collegiate meals, that was until Narcissa started asking questions.

Narcissa was undeniably beautiful. Helen felt like she should feel intimidated in her presence, but there was a way that Narcissa held herself and directed her gaze at her husband that made her feel sure that the woman wasn’t and would never be interested in anything beyond her family. Helen appreciated that; looking to her husband and allowing a familiar feeling of comfort settle over her. Once she decided that Narcissa wasn’t the enchantress she had fleetingly pegged her for, they quickly formed a friendship. Helen’s mother joined in their conversation, the trio laughing about motherhood, the conversation morphing into talk about schooling and finally, after a few too many glasses of wine, a ludicrously candid talk about the life of a married woman. Helen had woken the next day mortified about the things she may or may not have said to her soon to be host. Arriving at the chateau, bags packed for their prolonged stay, she was settled when she was greeted with a smile and a kiss on the cheek accompanied by the shushed words, ‘you’re my friend now, secrets are sacred’. In that moment, Helen knew that, regardless of the fact that Narcissa was godmother to Hermione, had she met Narcissa separately to the situation they had been placed in, she was sure that she would have gravitated to her. After just one interaction Helen knew, they really were friends.

And that’s how she felt as they both made their way around the vegetable garden. Colette wasn’t far behind, admiring a section of planters that had been set apart for growing peas.

“It’s something else, Narcissa.” Eyes wide and scanning the expansive allotment.

“I have a similar garden back in England, but obviously, we get the weather differently here. I can experiment at growing different things.”

“What do you do with all of the surplus food? Surely your family can’t make use of it all?”

“We could hold it in stasis… but I tend to offer it to the community. We have a free collection box at the end of our road. I just like to grow things; I don’t care where it goes. I must confess vegetables aren’t my speciality. Remind me to show you my rose garden back at Malfoy Manor.”

“That’s so generous. Have all of your family been good at gardening? You seem to have a flare?”

“Not at all,” Narcissa laughed, “Meda, Andromeda, is good. And she’s a medi-witch, so potions and ingredients are important to her. But that means her focus has tended to be on medicinal plants. My elder sister, Bella, she never had the patience.”

“Hermione has mentioned Andromeda, but never Bella?” Helen hesitated over the name. It didn’t feel comfortable in her mouth and she found herself scowling without realising. Noticing Narcissa flinch, she continued watering the plants in front of her, trying desperately not to run out the water in the can. She knew that Narcissa could refill it with a flick of her wand, but Helen could tell that now wasn’t the moment to distract her from her thoughts. And Helen, like Hermione, was always desperate for more information.

“Bella was… not a good person. She followed the Dark Lord and married a man equally as eager to please him. Her marriage to Rodolphus was a wedding to remember… aristocracy marrying aristocracy. Both Rodolphus and his brother were considered the top bachelors of the time. However, they were horrific men.” Narcissa shuddered at the thought, “Rabastan was…”

Helen collapsed. The watering can in her hand falling to the floor alongside her, water scattering over the grass. Narcissa was quick to call an elf and levitate her new friend to a comfortable place. Colette hurried over quickly and hovered around her daughter, whispering missives in her ear, moving her hair out of her eyes. It wasn’t long before Helen woke again, confused to find herself on a day bed within the garden and without much recollection as to what had happened.

“What happened?” her mouth felt dry, and her brain fuzzy, as if she was trying to remember a day of heavy drinking.

“Helene, dear, what’s wrong?” Colette had lowered herself to the floor to join her daughter.

“Tilly, please bring some iced water, quickly.” Narcissa instructed her elf, while maintaining her hold on her new friend, because this new woman was a friend.

“My head – it feels like it was being squeezed, and all I could think of was rage and protectiveness, like I needed to shield someone, I… I don’t think I can explain it.”

Tilly’s arrival at Narcissa’s side startled them all. Helen took a long drink of the water that Narcissa handed to her.

“I think it was a memory. It felt too strong to be anything else,” Helen looked to Narcissa for confirmation.

“We were just talking and then you passed out.”

“Richard?”

“I tried to call him, but he seems engaged with Lucius at present.”

“Don’t bother him,” Helen tried to sit up, resting her arm against the chaise that she was laid on. “I saw something.”

Narcissa leant forward and Colette ran a hand through her daughter’s hair.

“There was tension and someone smashed a glass. It was a memory; I know it was.”

“It’s possible, but I don’t know what could have triggered it.”

“The conversation, maybe?” She looked to her new acquaintance, friend, “What were we talking about?”

“My family. My sisters.” Narcissa frowned at the thought.

“Well, maybe, start from the beginning. We can see if it happens again.” Helen sat up straight, her face determined.

“You were in pain, Helen, I don’t want –“

“No, we need to do this. Just the once. If it’s too much, I promise I will let you know.”

“Helene…”

“Maman, please, let me do this for my girl. It’s why we’re here after all.”

Collette didn’t argue back, but Narcissa didn’t feel comfortable.

“There are other ways.”

“Please, Narcissa, just once.”

Narcissa looked to Collette, who threw her hands up in defeat, but remained at her daughter’s side. And so, Narcissa began her family history again, oblivious to the fact that a similar scene was playing out in her husband’s office.

The men were still sat in the same positions; they didn’t want a re-arrangement of their seating to inadvertently distract or impact whatever memory Richard was bringing forward. Lucius found the whole thing very odd. He was probably more familiar with memory magic than Remus or Sirius, years as a barrister under his belt, but he hadn’t experience this before. The pain. That was new. Normally, the recollection of memories was jarring, yes, but painless. It brought forward a sudden realisation. Whoever had locked the Granger’s memories away must have done so in an extremely intricate and powerful manner if the retrieval process was causing this level of distress. He was reminded of Richard’s enquiry as to whether Regulus or Lysa were responsible; he knew now that they couldn’t have been. They were powerful, yes, and had lineage that stretched back centuries. There was no doubt that both were strong magically in their own right, but they weren’t capable of this. Nonetheless, he continued his rambled breakdown of the Sacred 28 until Richard collapsed again. They were onto round four.

“Lestrange.” Lucius murmured, partly to himself and partly for the benefit of Sirius and Remus. He had realised the common factor that appeared to be inflicting his guest. They shared a look between themselves. After a couple of moments, Richard opened his eyes, blinking a number of times before his eyes turned murderous.

“Who the fuck is Rabastan Lestrange, and how do I get my hands on him?”

Meanwhile, in the garden, Narcissa continued to describe her relationship with her sisters, their marriages and the impact they had had on her family. Suddenly, Helen’s face blanched again, and her hands clasped the side of her head. She hissed between her teeth in pain.

When her eyes opened, she looked ready to wage war.

“Rabastan Lestrange is a monster.”  

Hermione was laughing as the boys, Harry included, attempted to conduct some form of water fight on brooms. 30 foot in the air. She’d tried to argue with them that it would end in disaster, but they had just brushed her off. Boys and their brooms. Every so often one of the participants would receive a gush of water to their face, the spray, more often than not, catching the girls below. It was only mildly irritating; the sudden cooling however was proving to be useful as she tried not to think about the fact that all four boys were playing their ridiculous game topless. Harry, she was happy to see, had begun to fill out, and she found happiness in seeing him looking healthier than she had ever seen him. Theo, though gangly, looked confident as he flew across the quidditch pitch, his joyful yell as he went enough to fill Hermione’s heart. Both Theo and Harry were very much settled into a ‘sibling’ category of her brain. Blaise and Malfoy however…. Her thoughts on them were definitely not… familial. Sure, she’d heard the girls in her year fawn over both boys, their eyes glistening and mischievous at the sheer prospect of fancying a Slytherin; forbidden fruit. But Hermione was now the owner of front row seats to their athleticism. It was distracting to say the least, and she was grateful when another spray of water covered her, pulling her from her thoughts.

The dosing of water was the last straw for Pansy however, who launched herself out of her seat, commanded an elf to fetch her a broom, before taking off into the air screaming for ‘retribution’.

Pansy was brilliant. Hermione had never been that interested in watching quidditch, forced into it on most occasions due both Harry and Ron’s obsession with the game, but watching Pansy fly was something else. She commanded the air. Hermione was suddenly enraged by the idea that she wasn’t part of the Slytherin quidditch team; her anger manifested itself from the part of her that was always desperate to fight for injustice. Why couldn’t Pansy play quidditch if she wanted to?! Hermione had never had anything stand in the way of her dreams. Her parents had made sure of that. In that moment, having only known the girl properly for a few days, she was adamant that Pansy shouldn’t experience anything less than what she wanted and she continued to watch gleefully as the stuck up, pureblood witch, flew circles around the boys, sending continuous waves of water in their direction as she did so.

Her reverence was quickly broken by the emergence a sudden tug and the emergence of Remus, requesting her presence in Lucius’ study. The game in the air paused and brooms returned to the ground. She tried to get a read on her godfather’s facial expression, but it was schooled and focussed. She couldn’t hide the concerned glance she sent to the group, who were watching with similar apprehension, but she followed Remus all the same. She knew, and they knew, that she would tell them all later.

Chapter Text

“We need to call Severus,” Lucius made the statement under his breath, so low that he wasn’t sure that anyone other than Sirius and Remus with their canine hearing would have picked up on his comment.  

Sirius was clenching his jaw and Remus was still aiding Richard back into his chair, pouring him a glass of water. Lucius took their silence as approval.

Everyone was pulled from their thoughts as Narcissa’s swan patronus emerged in the centre of the room.

“My dear, Helen has taken a turn in the garden as a result of some memories resurfacing. We are making our way to your office. Please be ready to receive us.”

“Helen?” Richard tried to push Remus away so that he could stand but stumbled back into his chair.

Lucius knew his wife, he knew her voice, and she was evidently shaken. Sirius appeared equally aware of her tone and glanced warily at Lucius.

“That can’t be a coincidence, right?” Sirius asked. Lucius truly had no idea. He relaxed the wards on his study door, in anticipation of his wife’s arrival, before chucking floo powder into the fireplace and calling out for Spinner’s End.

He hadn’t bothered giving Severus a heads up, only hoping that he would find his old school friend at home. The man was a notorious hermit and he wasn’t usually found far from his house during the holidays, that was, unless the Malfoy’s managed to convince him to join them. He was happy to be proved right. Severus was sat in his stark living room, studying a book.

“Lucius.”

“You’re needed at the Chateau.” Lucius wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries, given the circumstances, and the black-haired wizard wasn’t one to ask many questions. Lucius was happy to know that some things about his friend never changed. Severus simply placed his book down, reached for the robe that was hung over the back of his chair, and indicated that he would follow.

Back in the study, the women had now joined the group, and Richard was now stood, fretting over his wife, who looked decidedly worse for wear. Narcissa and Colette were close by, placing a wet flannel to Helen’s head and sharing looks of concern. Narcissa, noticing his arrival turned to him and he was sure he could feel her anger permeating the space between them. Upon noticing Severus following him out of the fireplace however, the lady of the house that she was, expertly schooled her emotions in order to do her duty as host.

“Severus, thank you for joining us at short notice. We appear to have had a development in the memory department.”

“Not at all, Narcissa. I am happy to be of help. Mr and Mrs Granger, I am happy to see you again, although, I must confess some surprise to seeing you here.” Severus shook Richard’s hand before taking a seat. His robes billowed as he sat and he looked remarkably out of place, clad in black, while surrounded by holiday goers.

“It was Narcissa’s request. We were already staying nearby with Helen’s mother.” Richard indicated to his mother-in-law. Severus turned to the elderly woman and gave her a polite nod.

“It was suggested that repeat exposure to your world may induce some memories forward. It appears… to have been a success. Albeit painful.” Richard squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Painful?” Severus frowned, his eyes flicking quickly to Lucius.

“Yes, it felt like a migraine. Worse. Like someone was digging in my brain.”

“For me too,” Helen whispered, taking a sip of water, before Richard placed a kiss to her forehead.

"You were both struck with the same pain? Were you doing the same thing?”

Severus’ face wasn’t giving anything away, his hawkish eyes settled upon the muggle couple, but Lucius was sure he saw a flicker of something. Maybe Sev was having the same thoughts as him as to the power of the memory alteration spell that they had been placed under?   

“No, Richard was up here with me, Lucius and Remus when it happened. Helen was in the garden with Narcissa and Colette.” Sirius answered for the man, pacing slightly.

“I see. Can I enquire as to what it was that brought forth the memories, or what the memories are?”

Richard seemed hesitant to speak,

“I can’t see it in full, but I know that whatever it was has left me with unprecedented hatred for someone called Rabastan Lestrange. I’ve never heard that name before until today. Lucius was giving me a rundown of the families in the Sacred 28.”

Narcissa inhaled quickly.

“Narcissa was detailing her relationship with her sister’s. It was, I think, the same name that caused the memory.’ Helen sounded shaky. Richard’s eyes widened as he looked at his wife; taken aback at the realisation that they both knew or had heard of this stranger. The other members of the room were equally uneasy.

Sirius took a seat and Remus perched on the arm of the chair rubbing his hand over his partner’s shoulders.

Narcissa, sat to Helen’s side and Colette joined her. Lucius watched as Colette took his wife’s hands in hers, running a thumb over her knuckles soothingly. It induced a sad smile on his wife’s face. Narcissa had lost her own mother a few years previous and he was grateful that Colette had sensed her need in the moment for an older woman’s guidance.

“Severus, how do you believe we should proceed?”

“The pain got less each time we tried to replicate the circumstances of the first instance –“

Helen cut her husband off, hitting him on the arm.

“How many times did you do it!?”

“Four,” he winced as she hit him again.

“You foolish man!”

“Helen-“ She hit him once more.

“We need to know…”

“Not. At. The. Risk. Of. Your. BRAIN! You have no idea what the effects of this spell are?!”

Each word was punctuated by a slap to his arm and Lucius couldn’t help but find it amusing. Narcissa too apparently, she caught his eye and began to stifle a laugh at the domestic scene playing out in front of them. Remus and Sirius followed, and a series of awkward coughs covered everyone’s shared amusement. Severus just appeared bemused.

“May I suggest that we… refrain from repeating your experiment?” Severus asked, trying to be diplomatic, “Although, you should know that, if you proceed with this ‘exposure’ method, it may not be avoidable. Anything could trigger your memories as they have done today.”

Both Helen and Richard flinched at the concept.

“If I may, I would like to perform legilimency on you both. It is the form of mind magic I attempted when we first met, giving me access to your thoughts. ‘Mind reading’ would be the rudimentary muggle term. I would like to see if, in the wake of your experience this afternoon, the memory in question is closer to the surface. It may be that I can bring it forward easier than before. With your permission of course.”

“Will it hurt?” Helen was hesitant. Lucius deemed it understandable; if she had felt the return of her memories in the same way as her husband, it was undoubtedly not a pleasant experience.

“No, not if you were open to the intrusion. If… if you were more comfortable with someone else performing the spell, Narcissa is equally as apt as I am in this particular skill.”

Helen looked to Narcissa and nodded, clearly not entirely comfortable with the idea of Severus rooting through her memories. Lucius found the fact that she already felt safe with his wife mildly surprising. He knew that they had got on well, but this displayed a remarkable level of trust.

“Mr Granger, are you happy for me to perform the spell on you?”

“You wouldn’t be taking the memories?”

“No, just watching and, hopefully, only the one that has become relevant today.”

Severus was trying to be as gentle as he could with the topic given everything the Granger’s had, and were still, going through. Lucius wasn’t entirely used to the level of niceness his friend was exuding to the two muggles and he presumed it had a lot to do with his guilt over how he had treated their daughter in the past. Lucius wasn’t oblivious to the reports made to the Board of Governors at Hogwarts, or the glee that Draco had previously expressed over how the potion’s master frequently put the Gryffindors in their place.

With Richard’s approval Severus continued.

“Narcissa, you will need to be gentle and probe only using the knowledge that we now have - the name.”

Narcissa, his beautiful wife, was stoic as ever and moved to face Helen. Her face set and her mission clear. Severus similarly positioned himself in front of Richard and, once the four were settled comfortably, they began.

Narcissa was nervous. She was proficient in legilimency and felt confident that she could perform the task at hand, but she didn’t know what she was expecting to see. The fury on Helen’s face when she had first uttered that bastard’s name was startling. Her dislike wasn’t unwarranted, based on the man that Narcissa had known, but, she couldn’t help but wonder - what does Helen know about Rabastan to make her show that level of contempt? Pushing the thought to the side, she muttered a quiet legilimens and made her way into Helen’s thoughts.

She tried to be soft; the intrusion initially pulling on the very recent past. She watched their journey around the garden, Helen’s innocent questions about her sisters and then they reached her detailing of the relationship between Bella and Rodolphus and her first mention of Rabastan’s name. She felt a ripple as a crack formed in Helen’s mind and she urged forward as lightly as possible and there it was, the memory.

Helen was sat in the grounds of a large farmhouse, Colette’s home, Narcissa deduced, and to her side was Lysa, pregnant and glowing. Cissa took a moment, grief catching up with her as she looked over the face of her friend. She looked so much like Hermione. How many years had it been since she’d seen her? She was as beautiful as ever and it was hard, crushing, to see her so radiant with the pregnancy she had kept hidden. She wished she could have been there, helped her, leant on her for support during her own pregnancy journey with Draco.  

“You and Regulus are a lovely couple. Will you marry?” It was a throw away comment and Helen took a quick look at Lysa’s left hand, absent of an engagement ring.

“No.” Narcissa almost wanted to laugh at her friend’s directness, if the answer hadn’t been such a surprise

“Regulus is a massive support, but he isn’t who I wish to be with, and I am not the person he desires.”

Cissa felt Helen’s confusion as she tried and failed to surreptitiously glance at the swollen belly of the woman next to her.

Lysa rubbed her hand over her abdomen, “This baby is not Regulus’. But they will be in name. He will adopt them as soon as they are born.”

Narcissa felt Helen’s embarrassment for asking, combined with her own disbelief and confusion.  

“I am so sorry. I didn’t wish to intrude on personal matters.”  

Lysa waved her away.  

“We have asked a lot of you and your family, but there is one more request that we would make of you.”

Helen sat forward, moving to balance the wine glass in her hand on the arm of her chair. She held the stem tightly.

“This baby will not be safe in our world. We, myself and Reggie, that is, are not safe in our world.”

“I cannot begin to understand what is happening…”

  “I ask… we ask… that you and Richard look after this baby until we are able to return. Until it is safe enough.”

Cissa felt the waves of Helen’s shock run through her.

“I- that is –“

Lysa grasped for Helen’s free hand, holding it tight. Narcissa could see the force of her friend’s fingers creating indents on Helen’s skin.

“Please.” Lysa’s eyes were shining with unshed tears. She blinked them away. She was strong. “We hope it will not be for long. I would run if we could. I would happily hide here forever. But Reggie is working on something. He has knowledge that we hope will bring down the Dark Lord. But… we cannot act without knowing that the baby is protected. I believe that this child is important. I know it in my soul.”

Narcissa was reminded of all of the times in their childhood when Lysa had tried to convince her that she had an element of seer intuition. As they grew older, Narcissa couldn’t deny that Lysa was remarkably attuned to people’s feelings, but she had never believed it to be a true gift. There was something unsettling though, in the sincerity that Lysa spoke about her unborn child.  

“What about the father? Can he not-“

  Lysa cut Helen off.  

“My child will never go near that man. He is no father.” Her eyes were dark, darker than Narcissa had ever seen them before and she knew right then and there what had happened. “He took what he wanted by force and will not be considered anything other than an enemy to me and my child.”

Narcissa wanted to tear herself from the memory and take a one-way trip to Azkaban.

“You mean-“  

“I mean, Rabastan Lestrange, and please, remember that name should he ever come looking, will never lay a finger on my child, or myself, ever again.”  

“Oh, dear god, Lysa!” Helen reached across the arm of the chair she was sat at, the glass in her hand dropping and smashing as she did so. She pulled the curly haired woman close and grasped at the back of her dress. Narcissa watched as Helen tried, desperately, to convey her distress and horror at what her friend had gone through. Watching the scene, she let out a quiet sob, wishing with all of her heart that she could provide Lysa with the same level of comfort. 

“Shh. I am okay. I have been okay. I am resigned that, out of the trauma, a beautiful child has been gifted to me. They will not know him, they will grow up without him being a part of their history. They will be a Black, protected by Regulus’ name and his family magic.”

“Who was he? Surely we can get him arrested?” It was a reasonable question but naïve.

“We were once betrothed, but I knew the kind of man he was. I couldn’t… My friend and I made sure to have the marriage contract made void. He, well, he did not take it kindly… Please, it’s so much to ask, but please, look after my child until am I able.”  

“I will speak to Richard.”

The memory began to fade. Narcissa tried to re-commit her friend’s face to memory as the image in front of her dissolved into nothing. She felt hollow until the nausea and guilt hit her.

Severus was taking a similar trip through Richard’s memories.

“This is far more entertaining than regular chess.” The young man eyed the chess board before directing a bishop forward and witnessing it take out a pawn. The shards of stone scattered across the board before the pawn limped its way across the checked slab.

“I find it enjoyable, although the quietness of the muggle game is quite focussing. I can understand the appeal.”

Severus thought he was ready, that he’d braced himself, but he found his chest constricting as he heard Reggie’s voice for the first time in over a decade. He forced his eyes shut, not wanting to look, but the voice was like a north point, Severus would never be able to resist that sound. It felt like coming home. He finally managed to build up the courage to look. He was here to see memories after all. This was his job. But, Salazar, the man in front of him was so young. He looked thin, when hadn’t he been, but he still had that notorious Black stature; the poise that made everyone question what his was going to do next. His curly black hair flopped over his eyes, just as it used to when he studied. Severus was suddenly very aware of his age and the pit of loss building in his chest; the hole that had formed when Regulus had died, re-emerged. Here Reggie was, real enough to touch, sat moments and yet a lifetime away. He looked beautiful in the French sun. Severus suppressed an urge to reach over and brush an errant curl from his face. Had he really ever been this young? Had he ever been gifted the opportunity of being with this man? It was all such a distant memory now; one he had hidden deep, beneath the layers and layers of occlumency shields he’d set up over the years. These days, it was nothing more than a hazy dream.

He hadn’t been focussing on the conversation taking place between the two men until he felt a ripple of curiosity emanating from Richard. It pulled him back into focus.

“Lysa and I have a question to ask of you and Helen. I believe Lysa is talking with Helen now.”

“Hm?”

“We want to ask that, when the baby is born, you care for it. Not permanently. Just until we are confident that the wizarding world is safe. We would provide everything you need. We trust you.”

Severus watched as Richard sat back, his eyes boring into Regulus’. Brown met grey.  

“You deem your world that unsafe? That – that you would entrust strangers to care for your child?” He let out a huff of air, “I mean, you’ve told us some of what your world is going through… although I’m fairly certain that you are holding back.” Richard ran a hand through his hair, and challenged Regulus with his own stare, “I know that Colette and Helen know you more than I do. You’re clearly close. But, you’ve got to know that this is a fucking crazy request! Who am I to you? Why would put that level of trust in me? In us? There must be someone else.”

“The Dark Lord… the dictator we have mentioned… he is becoming merciless. I think, maybe, I have found a way to bring him down. But I would be an idiot if I held any illusions that I am going to survive the fallout,” Regulus paused, holding a pawn figurine in his hands and sighing as he placed it back on the board. “I know you are a good man. My relationship with Colette is simple, she gave me a home when I needed one. She is among three people I would trust with this. My brother is too caught up in the war... and my…” Regulus seemed to choke slightly, “… he isn’t safe, I can’t leave the baby with him. It’d be a death sentence for them both. So, that leave’s Colette… and, by proxy, you. If she thinks you good enough to be with Helen, then you are good enough to care for my child.”  

“Reg… We have lives, people, jobs.”

“I know…”  

“The baby isn’t yours.”

Regulus didn’t say anything.

Severus stood still watching the two men. Neither moved, and he was unsure as to what would have prompted Richard Granger to make that kind of statement.

“You act like friends, good friends, siblings maybe. But, I have never seen anything more than that. And I presume the second person you mentioned is more than a friend.”

Severus held his breath as he waited for his Regulus to reply.  

“I plan to adopt the child, magically; it would be binding. They will be a Black. But no, at present, the baby isn’t mine. I said I would keep Lysa safe and I failed in that. I failed to protect her from a man who deserves a fate worse than death. But I will keep her safe in this way. Both of them.”

“You mean-“

“I mean, that should I be given the opportunity, Rabastan Lestrange will rue the day that he chose to become a monster over a man.”

  Severus felt like he could be sick.

All of his feelings for the man he once knew were breaking through the surface of his occlumency shields. It was excruciating.

When Narcissa and Lupin had approached him all of those years ago, with rumours of a Nott child, telling him he was a godparent, that they believed the child was Reggie’s he had locked himself away for weeks. Being named godfather felt cruel; like Regulus had been laughing at him. God, he had hated Regulus. Regardless, part of him, however small, held onto a hope that it wasn’t true. That Narcissa and Lupin had got it wrong. Then, following Hermione’s failed adoption, the bloody Black tapestry said it was true. He had left the house questioning everything about their relationship. He had gone home and wept. Not out of grief, not like he had done when he learnt that Reg had died, or when he found out that the Dark Lord had found, and murdered, Lily. It was guttural. His heart had broken. He had spent days questioning the whispered secrets and oaths they had made each other. And here it was, laid out bare. Rabastan had taken what wasn’t his to take. Regulus, the dutiful and wonderful man that Severus had always known him to be, had tried to do the right thing. Severus couldn’t contain the flood of love that burst forth from where he had buried it. It battled with the weight on his conscience, created in punishment for ever questioning what they had had.  

 “Fuck. Fucking hell. I… I understand,” Richard clenched his fist around his wine glass, “No man like that will ever come near Lysa again, or her child. I’ll speak to Helen. But, if you need us too, we will look after the baby until you tell us it is safe. I would like some assurances, that you aren’t abandoning them. That this isn’t some…trick.”

“Of course.”

  The memory began to fade away.

Sirius waited.

Remus tried to make small talk with Colette. He asked whether the name had triggered anything within her; she had simply shrugged. Everything that had happened so far appeared to be news to her. Lucius didn’t take his eyes off Cissa.

Sirius could still hear the sound of the kids playing, and he gravitated towards the window, stretching his neck to see what they were up to. There appeared to be an aerial water fight underway, and the Parkinson girl had joined the boys in the air. He was reminded of Marlene as he watched her fly through the air. She was impressive. Precise and ruthless. He watched them for a while, letting their happiness distract him from the mood of the room.

His attention was pulled by a slight exhale of air from Narcissa’s lips. She was still locked into Helen’s mind, but her face was scrunched slightly, and a tear was making its way down her cheek. Lucius was at her side in an instant, delicately placing a hand on her shoulder. Snape shared a similar expression to Cissa.

Turmoil, guilt, pain.

Merlin, what were they seeing.

Narcissa and Helen broke the spell first, and he watched as his cousin turned intuitively into Lucius’ side, grabbing at his clothes and crying. Helen looked shell shocked, but her attention was focussed straight on her husband. When Snape and Richard broke their own spell, the Granger’s reached for each other. Snape stood abruptly and made his way to the corner of the room, turning away from the group. Sirius, Remus and Colette gave them all a moment.

“Cissa…?” Sirius whispered.

“She… it’s my fault. We found a way to break off the engagement but he…”

Lucius began whispering nothings in her ear, smoothing her hair and letting her tears fall onto his robes.

“Snape…” Sirius tried the second option for information. 

“Just… just, give me a second, Black.” Usually Sirius would have been affronted, but he couldn’t find it in him to retort. The man in the corner looked like a shell.

In the end it was Helen who gave them the information, backed up by Richard who, apparently, had a secondary confirmation of what they all now knew. Hermione was born a Lestrange, blood adopted by Regulus in an attempt to keep her from the father. The circumstance of her conception became clear and everyone sat in silence, in varying levels of distress. Narcissa’s hair was sparking, her anger permeating everyone in the room. Sirius was also on the verge of something. He’d always thought himself clear of the Black family ‘flip of a coin’ but, looking between himself and Narcissa, he felt like he was seeing, first-hand, how volatile the family magic could be.

“We shouldn’t have done it. I thought it would help. We managed to convince Thoros that Rabastan was unfaithful, depraved; we had enough information from school. He was horrible. I thought that the one good thing Thoros ever did was concede that he didn’t want his daughter being with someone with like that. He called off the engagement. I… if I’d known…”

Helen made her way to Cissa.

“A man like that can’t be changed. You protected her from a life of misery.”  

“But… he… she…”

“You heard Lysa. She thought Hermione was a blessing out of the darkness. Hermione was born. She was born and protected from him. She grew up happy and loved.” Helen placed her hand on Narcissa’s and drew their foreheads together. “We did what we could to make sure any child of Lysa’s was cherished and out of that man’s grasp. Whether Richard or I knew what we were doing or not, we at least made sure of that.” The two women held each other. They were comforting each other, but simultaneously, both looked thunderous.

One look at Remus, and Sirius could see that Moony was scarily close to the surface. They were just over a week away from the full moon and Moony was at the cusp of entering his most volatile time of the month.

“Severus, are you okay?” Sirius watched Lucius make his way to where the man was still stood, cloaked in black, in the corner of the room.

“He – he didn’t betray me.”

It was said quietly, to Lucius alone, but Sirius’ animagus picked up on the comment, as did Remus’ wolf. For the first time in his life, he felt pity for his nemesis. He understood the pain in his voice. It was reminiscent of how Remus’ spoke when they discussed his time in Azkaban. Sirius wasn’t sure in what capacity, but it was clear that the man in the corner had loved his brother.

“I’m so sorry.” Richard was stood, bracing himself on the arm of his chair, “these were people you knew, and we, someone took them from you. But we need to know what happens now?”

“Dear god, Hermione… what do we tell her?” Helen looked aghast.

Remus positively growled, taking the couple by surprise.

“I’m sorry. I just… I’m trying to get my head around it all. Fuck.”

 Remus punched the wall, his fist actually managing to create a dent in the stone.

“Lestrange should count himself lucky he’s already locked away.”

In that moment Sirius thought Remus had never looked more deadly, and everyone familiar with his condition in the room took stock. Sirius didn’t even begrudge Lucius subtly reaching for his wand. Remus was furious.

“I’m sorry, Cissa, Lucius.” Remus attempted to repair the wall. It was partially successful.

“Locked away?”

Sirius didn’t dare look at Richard, his attention focussed Remus. He was willing him to be calm through silent pleas.

Lucius spoke, “He was arrested in the aftermath of the war, along with his brother and my sister-in-law. They tortured a couple of Aurors - wizarding police. It was retaliation for the death of the Dark Lord.”

“Fucking hell. Who are you people?!” Richard sat back down again, his hands gripping the arms of the chair he was sat in. It was an obvious reaction and Sirius wasn’t oblivious to the way the man looked around the room, Richard’s focus landed on him first, then Lucius and Narcissa. The distrust plastered all over Richard’s face was warranted. Sirius had always hated it, but right now, if it was possible, he hated even more how entangled the pureblood families were.

Why couldn’t Rabastan be just some other person, someone unconnected? But no, he was the brother of his deranged cousin’s husband. All three, scum of the earth. He wanted desperately to avoid Richard’s fury.

“The question remains, what do we tell Hermione?” Remus paced; his eyes still retaining a dangerous glow.

“We tell her as much of the truth as is appropriate. She doesn’t need to know about… no, we give her his name and tell her what Lysa and Regulus had planned and no more. She’s already been presented with too much.” Richard reasoned.

“No, Richard! She deserves the truth. The full truth!” Helen protested.

“This will crush her, Helen! She’s still reeling from the whole adoption debacle. And now we tell her that, not only is Regulus – someone we’re only just learning about - not her true father, but that her mother was raped by someone who, cherry on fucking top, went on to be imprisoned for torture! No.” Helen and Colette flinched and Narcissa let out a small whimper. Richard was shaking his head wildly. “No. She can’t deal with that information. She’s just a child!”

“You need to know that this is unprecedented.” Lucius was speaking calmly, and Sirius couldn’t determine where his thoughts were, “We told you about the weight of the Black and Nott name. But the Lestrange’s aren’t exactly minor players in our world. It’s…”

“She technically has the name of three of the main wizarding families attached to her.” Narcissa finished. Where Lucius had almost sounded impressed, Cissa sounded positively sick.

“She’s going to work it out. She has a propensity for these things. If you just tell her that Lestrange,” the name was bitter on Sirius’ tongue, “is her biological father, she’s going to wonder why Regulus adopted her instead. She’s going to wonder why Lysa wouldn’t acknowledge her birth right.” Sirius grasped the edge of the desk he was hovering over.

“I feel sick.” And Richard promptly threw up into Lucius’ wastepaper basket.

The room was silent. Everyone knew Sirius was right. Hermione was too smart to not understand the implications of anything they left out of the story.

“We are going to tell her everything.” Helen was resolute. She moved to where Richard was still hunched over the bin and began rubbing his back, “Richard, she deserves to know the truth, just as we do.” She reached for her husband’s hand, her spare hand smoothing his hair away from his face,

“There will be no more secrets. I can’t deal with anymore lies between us. We will be there for her. We will take her to therapy if she wants it. We will remove her from Hogwarts if she wants. We will let her process in whatever way she needs to. But she deserves to know.”

In the end, it was Snape siding with Helen that swayed the room.

“My father was a drunk and abusive man. He did not define who I am. Just as Hermione is not defined by the actions of Rabastan. She is Hermione Granger, top of her year, defender of the downtrodden and, I say this without malice, a complete and utter know-it-all. She has paved her own way in the wizarding world. Her name, your name, is already becoming known, forged in her own right, separate to him. Sirius is right in that she will work it out either way. It is better that the information is presented to her by people she trusts, rather than deduced in common rooms or by people who may use it to target her. This will not change who she is and, knowing Miss Granger, I don’t believe she will let it.”

It was the most cordial thing Snape had ever said about Hermione, and Sirius found himself agreeing with everything he had said. He didn’t want to feel sympathy for the man, but his admission about his own upbringing was startling.

“You need to tell her.” Colette had been quiet throughout the entire exchange, but there was a finality in the words she spoke. This wasn’t going to be a discussion any longer.

Helen and Richard looked at one another, their hands entwined so much Sirius couldn’t determine where one began and the other ended. He watched as an unspoken agreeance being struck.

“Remus, Sirius, could you possibly fetch Hermione? I don’t think either myself or Richard are in the right headspace to bring her here without saying anything…” Helen’s eyes were sad.

“I’ll go.” Remus stood, and left the room.

Chapter Text

Harry wasn’t sure what to do. Hermione was broken, once again. More than when she’d been called a mudblood, more than when Ron had fallen out with her over Crookshanks, more than when she had found out that she was adopted. Harry wasn’t aware of the details, but he knew that this was different.

She had left Lucius’ office and made her way straight to her bedroom in the guest wing, and then no-one had seen her again for the rest of the day. Sirius gathered the remaining teenagers and told them very little.

“It’s for Hermione to decide what you are told.”

Theo had kicked up a fuss, arguing that, as whatever Hermione had been told likely involved his Aunt, he had a right to know. Harry agreed with him and it was evident that Sirius didn’t entirely disagree, but he couldn’t be persuaded to give out anymore information.

When Hermione didn’t emerge for breakfast the following day, or for lunch, Harry was approached by Narcissa and Helen, to ask whether he could try and get Hermione to open the door that she had warded shut. Based on the whispers Harry had picked up on, it appeared that Narcissa and Lucius weren’t entirely sure how Hermione was managing to keep both themselves and the house elves out. It was their house after all. Given that information alone, Harry wasn’t confident he would have much luck. It was clear that Hermione didn’t want to see anyone. However, he relented when both Richard and Helen practically begged him to give it a go.

“Tell her, we’re here for her. But, please, just get her to eat something. That’s what we’re primarily worried about right now. She doesn’t need to do or say anything else if she doesn’t want to. But she needs to eat and take care of herself.”

Harry nodded, making his way through the house, acknowledging the concerned faces of the Slytherins as he passed them. Pansy shoved a handful of girly magazines into his hands.

“They’re from me and Daphne.”

He thanked her and she placed a hand on his forearm before she turned away. He was beginning to appreciate the silent communication the Slytherins operated by. They didn’t work in platitudes and grand gestures. Everything was said silently.

Outside of Hermione’s door was an untouched tray of lunch items ranging from soup, to sandwiches, pastries and fruit. The elves had covered all bases. There was also a book resting against the wall. He sat on the floor, his back against the door, hugging his legs into his chest. He felt ridiculous, but he decided that, rather than trying to convince Hermione out of her room, he’d simply give her a breakdown of everything that had happened while she had locked herself away. And so, he began talking to nothing.

“Hey, Hermione. I thought you’d like to know that Pansy absolutely dominated the water fight after you left. You would have loved it. I swear Blaise almost fell off his broom at one point because her spells were that powerful. She’s so fast in the air. I’m secretly happy that she hasn’t been able to join the Slytherin team. I knoww, I know, that isn’t very feminist of me. You’ll probably tell me off for it later, but honestly… the idea of both her and Malfoy on the same team is intimidating. They would actually give Gryffindor a run for their money. If it ever happened, I really wouldn’t like our chances….”

“Um…. Speaking of Quidditch… Sirius received an invitation this morning from the Minister for Magic, he’s invited us, you included, to attend the Quidditch World Cup. I know we were probably going anyway, because Mr Weasley got those tickets, but Sirius has been formally invited now and his invite includes a meet and greet with the teams who make the final. Personally, I’m hoping Bulgaria get there. I’d love to meet Krum… I know you don’t know or care who that is, but even Malfoy is excited at the idea. Can you believe, we’ve actually found some common ground? Apparently, the Malfoy’s have already got tickets and the rest of the Slytherins are joining them. I think it’ll be fun.”

“I think I’m developing a tan. Theo keeps teasing me about it. Um… Pansy and Daphne have given me some magazines to give you, if you’re interested? I could read them to you if you want…” he shifted and knocked the book that was leant next to him, “or, um, there’s a book here that someone has left by the door. It…” he picked it up and flicked through the pages, “it looks like a potion book of some sort, but it doesn’t have a title.”

He sighed, “I mean, knowing you, you’d probably prefer me to read this to you than the magazines. I don’t think I’ll understand much of it… I can still give it a go…” he waited to see if he could hear any reaction from the other side of the door before he began.

“The art of potioneering is primarily associated with the craft of herbology. The strength and creation of a potioneers brews is, quite rightly, dependent on the ingredients used. It will be of no surprise to readers of this book, should they be proficient in their own brewing, that fresh ingredients garner the best results. However, this book and my current hypothesis aims to question whether or not potioneering should be pigeonholed into a limited relationship with herbology. Should more attention be given to the effect of arithmancy and charms upon the efficacy of a potion?” Harry paused,

“I’m not going to lie, Hermione, I don’t think I know what that means.” For the first time since he’d sat down, he heard a slight shuffle from the inside of the room.

He didn’t react to the noise and continued reading,

“Within this book, I have outlined a number of common place potions that, through investigation and experimentation, I have found can be improved tenfold when used in conjunction with charms that can be performed both upon the ingredients prior to use, or upon the finalised potion. I have also determined that, through intricate examination of arithmancy when calculating the appropriate dosage and weight of ingredients, the potency can be increased immeasurably.”

“Still not understanding…” Harry grumbled to himself. He had never got a grip on potions. No wonder Snape hated him.

He still had his back to the door and so, when it opened suddenly, he fell backwards into Hermione’s room, utterly winded. Looking up, Hermione was hovering over him, red faced and hair wild. She was wearing a large rugby shirt and shorts.

“Come in,” she rolled her eyes and made her way back into the room. Harry twisted himself onto his front, shuffling to follow her, but not before grabbing the tray of food.

He stood awkwardly as he waited for Hermione to decide where she wanted to be sat. When she moved to a set of chairs in front of a bay window, Harry followed, placing the food tray on the coffee table between them.

“Do you want me to continue reading?” He asked.

“You aren’t going to ask me about what happened yesterday? I imagine everyone knows now.”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” He opened the book in his hands, “And, Sirius didn’t tell us much, just said it was for you to decide what we knew. So, I’ll leave that decision up to you. But… I am going to ask you to eat. I’ll continue reading and you can eat.”

He nudged the tray towards her. “Your brain won’t be able to process whatever you need to work through if it hasn’t had any sustenance.”

Hermione scoffed as her fingers played with the rim of a bowl of fruit.

“No offence Harry, but that doesn’t sound like something you’d come up with. Was that my parents?”

“That actually came from Malfoy… I can’t claim credit. But I imagine he’s right. It sounds like it makes sense and, after the whole time-turner, exam stress stuff…. He said you didn’t eat then.”

Harry felt guilty that Malfoy had picked up on more about his friend’s health during the last school year than he had, and that the blonde-haired boy had decided to bring it up again that morning as they had all shared their concerns about Hermione. Harry had tried to attribute his lack of attention to Hermione’s deteriorating mental state throughout the school year to the conflict between Ron and her, but he knew, deep down, he still should have noticed how stressed she had been and the impact it had had on her health.

“It’s his book isn’t it; Malfoy’s I mean?” Hermione pointed to the manuscript in his hands, sniffing and rubbing her jumper sleeve on across her nose. “He said that he’d let me read the new draft of Belby’s work. That’s it.” She pointed again at the book in his hands. Harry honestly had no idea what he was reading and just shrugged.

Hermione paused, struggling to come up with what she wanted to say next.

“Why are all these people being so bloody kind!?” She threw her hands in the air, reaching for an answer she couldn’t appear to find. Her explosion took Harry by surprise and his reply was purely reactionary.

“They like you, Hermione! I mean, why wouldn’t they? Malfoy is a bit of an enigma, but I think he likes you too… Um, do you want me to continue reading?…”

Harry watched as Hermione eyes screwed shut and she began digging her nails into her palms.

“Hey! Hey! What’s wrong?”

“It’s…. what they told me… They told me that my actual father is Rabastan Lestrange.” She launched in a hurried recount of her parents’ experience the day before. “He attacked Lysa. That’s how she… Regulus adopted me so that I wasn’t part of that family. So, I wouldn’t be his.”

She waited for a reaction from Harry that he was too shocked to give.

“You mean… Oh shi-… Herm-“ Harry tried to reach for her hand but she pulled it away and jumped up, beginning to pace.

“Everyone here is so interlinked. I can’t stop thinking about Neville. About Narcissa’s sister, Bellatrix, in Azkaban. About Theo’s Dad, and his Grandfather. I’m now part of this horrible, horrible side of wizarding history. And literally everyone here is part of that.”

She kept pacing, her feet making tracks on the plush carpet. Harry hurriedly stood, placed the book on the chair and made his way to gather her in his arms. She was shaking, her head buried into his shoulder.

“I used to think I was better than them. I’m a Gryffindor. I thought that, despite being muggleborn, I could look at their history and feel better about myself. At least my parents weren’t blood purists. But now... none of their parents are prison! None of their parents are locked away. Now, even my ‘adoptive’ dad, defected or not, was a death eater. A week ago, I’d just found out I was the mysterious daughter of blood traitors, now I’m the daughter of a known criminal. A torturer, a likely murderer and a rapist.” Hermione was spitting, jerking against Harry’s arms. He manoeuvred her so that she was at arm’s length, but still held firmly in his grasp. He shook her slightly so that she looked him in the eye.

“Look at me, Hermione. That isn’t on you, is it? You’re innocent in all this. No-one will ever blame you for his actions. I know I won’t. And he isn’t really your father. Not at the end of the day. Richard, your Dad is, in every way that matters.” Harry was rambling. He didn’t know if what he was saying was helping or not. “Rabastan is nothing to you. And, for whatever bad he did, it seems like Lysa and Regulus were good. And your parents, they’re good. And Sirius and Remus. Even Narcissa and Lucius. You’re surrounded by good! You’re so good, Hermione. Don’t let him taint that, because I know we won’t let him.” He pulled her close again, not knowing what else to do.

“I didn’t know Lysa, but I feel such crushing hurt on her behalf. I can’t put it into words. How could someone do that to her?”  

Harry could feel Hermione convulsing as she began to cry, and he felt so monumentally out of his depth. This wasn’t a conversation a teenage boy was capable of dealing with. But he tried. Muttering into her shoulder.

“She was clearly a really strong person, just like you. To go through what she went through…” he grimaced at the thought and rubbed Hermione’s back, “and… and, to come out of it fighting and ready to protect you. Both her and Regulus…”

Hermione cried and Harry guided her to the chairs again.

“You don’t need to tell people if you don’t want to. I won’t say anything. The newspapers have reported that you’re Regulus’, and it seems like you are, technically, I mean, cos of the adoption. I don’t really know how it all works, but you’re there on the Black family tree. You don’t even need to think about him if you don’t want too. You could accept the history that Lysa and Regulus tried to give you; them as your parents. The world that you would have grown up with if your parent’s memories hadn’t been tampered with.”

“But…”

“There doesn’t need to be a ‘but’, Hermione. This seems very much up to you. If it was me, I wouldn’t give him another thought. But, if you wanted people to know, I’m sure everyone would be behind you, Neville included.”

Hermione sniffed and rubbed her sleeve over her face, leaving dark patches on the fabric as she ridded her face of tears. “You know you’re my best friend, right?”

“Can I tell Theo that?” he gave her a small smile, trying to lift the mood slightly. It didn’t really feel appropriate, but regardless, Hermione playfully hit his chest and smiled slightly until her face shifted into one of dawning realisation.

“Oh, Jesus, Theo, he should know.”

“It’s completely up to you.”

“I’m so fed up of being hit with new information.” Hermione slumped into her chair. Harry would never comment, but she looked absolutely frazzled.

“Hopefully this will be the last of it.”

“We still don’t know who hid my parent’s memories.”

Harry didn’t say anything as Hermione reached for a strawberry and popped it in her mouth. He could at least tell her parents that she’d eaten something.

“Well, personally, I think that can wait. I mean… I know I need to find out who suppressed my magic, and you do too… but right now, I’d just like to enjoy the holidays. I think we both deserve a break.”

“I… I think I want that too.”

“Do you want me to get your Mum? Or Narcissa?”

“Not right now… can you just stay here?”

“Sure. But, please don’t make me read that book.”

Hermione laughed, before she grabbed a bread roll from the tray, dunked it in the soup and took a bite, flakes of bread scattering over the table.

Mission accomplished.

In the end, Hermione decided to tell the rest of the teenagers. Maybe it was because they were Slytherins, or because of who their parents were, or that for some reason there was unspoken understanding that they wouldn’t judge her, she wasn’t sure. She also decided that, the next time she saw Neville, she would tell him as well. She contemplated sending him a letter but came to the conclusion that this was a conversation to be had in person. If he was going to reject her as a friend based on the news, she’d rather experience it in person than having to wait for a return owl. She hadn’t made a decision about Ron.

Her parents spent the next few days hovering. She didn’t blame them and could understand why they wanted to stay close now that she had left her room, but it was stifling. She managed to get some relief however, whenever Professor Snape came by. Since the ‘revelation’, he had decided to call in on a regular basis to check on her parents and to see if he could access anymore of their memories. It wasn’t unsuccessful per se, but everything that had surfaced so far was pretty run of the mill; dinners with Regulus and Lysa, days at the market, games of chess and moments by her Grandmere’s pool. Nothing provided any more insight into their memory loss. To be honest, Hermione found that, given everything that had taken place in the last month, she wasn’t all that desperate to find the cause of her parent’s amnesia. Harry had been right; she needed a break. And her parents seemed quite happy re-living their friendship with Regulus and Lysa. Unfortunately, their happiness was also intercut with grief. The more they gained a sense of how close they had been with the witch and wizard, the more they were aware of the loss. Narcissa and Sirius made it their mission to support them during these times and each spent a significant amount of time talking one on one with her parents.

Theo struggled with the news. He retreated into himself and became a shadow of the boy who had greeted Hermione when she had first arrived. She had tried her best to be there for him, showing that she was okay and that she was still happy to know that, because of Lysa, he was her cousin, but he wasn’t receptive to her. Pushing her away the more that she tried to spend time with him. It was Pansy that had taken her to the side one day to give her more background to his mood.

“He’s sad that something he thought was good about his family, turned out to be tainted.”

Hermione made to object, but Pansy stopped her.

“Not that you are tainted, you aren’t and none of us think that. But Theo doesn’t have much family history to look back on and think positively about. I think, you being Regulus and Lysa’s daughter - the good deatheater and the spy - was the first thing in a while that made him think good thoughts about his family and now…”

“… and now that’s not the case.” Hermione had sighed and asked what she should do.

“Just give him time. We’ve got him. We’ve been here before, he’ll be okay. I promise.”

Pansy had squeezed her hand and, in a complete shock move, pulled Hermione in for a brief hug. Blaise had watched the conversation and given her a nod, it was subtle, but she knew it was his way of agreeing with Pansy and offering his sympathy.

Despite the odd mix of inhabitants at the chateau, everyone seemed to have a roll or purpose in the wake of the news.

Hermione was particularly grateful for Harry, Sirius and Remus, who decided that a good way of distracting her was to build on the godparent bond; and so, they played hide and seek, recruiting the other Slytherin’s every so often. They took it in turns and, guided by their godparents, Harry and Hermione would ‘tug’ on the bond in an attempt to locate them. Narcissa took part once, but it was clear she thought ‘hide and seek’, as a means of developing the bond, was beneath her as an activity. She opted for quiet moments with Hermione, where they would sit in silence and Hermione would try and send her messages without speaking.

It was while playing a game of hide and seek that Hermione followed a ‘feeling’ and found herself in a part of the chateau that she hadn’t explored yet. As she continued to follow the bond, she found herself in a potions room occupied by Malfoy and Snape. The room was circular, the walls lined with cabinets and shelves full of ingredients. In the centre was a set of desks, positioned in a u-shape. The two desks opposite one another were occupied by Malfoy and Snape who were stood with their backs to one another, monitoring a number of cauldrons. The third desk was covered in ingredients, a pestle and mortar, knives and chopping boards. They both looked up in surprise as she entered.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I was meant to be finding Remus.” She was about to turn and run, embarrassed at interrupting them when Snape spoke.

“It’s not a problem Miss… Hermione.” He was still adjusting to using her first name.

Hermione had no idea how she had managed to end up in this section of the house, at least, she didn’t until she looked at Malfoy. He had clearly picked up on her confusion and seemed to mouth something at her. When she didn’t react to what he was trying to say he rolled his eyes and made a subtle gesture between Snape and her and then tapped his temple.

“Oh,” she exhaled under her breath, the bond. She’d been searching for Remus but had somehow followed the bond to Snape.

“Um… what are you brewing?”

“Why don’t you tell me? The ingredients we’ve used are still on the counter. I’m sure you can work it out.” Snape’s tone wasn’t malicious, but Hermione instinctively felt her hackles rise out of instinct. She stepped closer to the desk to take a look.

“Bicorn horn… Salamander blood… fire seeds. Pepper-up?”

“Well done. Draco is working on a batch of Pepper Up while I’m brewing a Sobering Up Potion.” For once in Hermione’s life, she actually felt like Snape’s praise was genuine. Maybe Slytherin did have something to worry about when it came potions classes next year.

“Cissa likes her stocks to be full and, it would appear that, due to the amount of firewhiskey Black consumes, she’s running low.”

She chuckled and saw Malfoy’s lips turn up slightly as he focussed on stirring the potion in his cauldron. His fringe was flopped over his forehead, slightly damp from sweat due to the heat of the room. An impulsive thought came over her, hide and seek forgotten. She was speaking before she realised what she was saying.

“Would you mind if I watched? I never get to practice potions in the holidays. I read, obviously, and I’ve tried practicing with imitation ingredients, muggle ingredients, just to keep my knife skills but it’s not the same. But I’m always concerned I’m going to lose everything I’ve learnt the year before…” She was rambling.

“I highly doubt that would happen.” Snape didn’t look up, but he didn’t refuse her request to stay and watch, so she took his silence as invitation to take a seat on a stool. As she observed them work, she wondered how often they brewed together; they were seamless in their movements. They were both silent, but they were cutting, crushing and passing ingredients in a synchronised dance. No wonder Malfoy is so good at potions if this is how he spends his holidays, she thought to herself.

After a while watching, an occupation Hermione was happy to continue, Malfoy pushed a chopping board, steel blade and piece of Mandrake root towards her. He didn’t say anything and returned to his cauldron. She picked up the blade and began making precise slices. She noticed Snape make a nod of approval and continued. Conscious that she was likely going to be there for a while longer and that, somewhere on the estate, Remus was ‘hiding’ she tried to send him a message through the bond.

I’m brewing with Professor Snape and Malfoy. Sorry!

After a couple of seconds, a reply came back.

We wondered where you had disappeared to. Thank you for letting me know, and good use of the bond! Have fun!

 The sound of Remus’s voice in her head was still jarring and she flinched as his voice entered her mind, but the connection was already getting easier. Hermione settled into her task and, for the first time in a while, she spent an afternoon without a passing thought about Rabastan Lestrange.

“Hermione has found Snape and Draco and is brewing with them, so hide and seek is over,” Remus announced as he walked into his suite. Sirius was draped over the sofa, legs dangling over the chair arms. He huffed in reply.

“What’s got you in a mood?” Remus slapped at his feet, forcing Sirius to swing around and create space for him to sit.

“Dumbledore.”

“What’s he done now?”

“He’s sent me another letter. Lucius has received one as well.” He indicated to a piece of parchment on the table. “He wants to meet with us and he’s getting more insistent.”

Remus reached over to pick up the letter, scanning over the contents before growling under his breath.

“He’s seriously accusing you of endangering Harry?”

“Yup,” Sirius replied, his lips creating a pop as his said the word. “Won’t stop harping on about Lily’s sacrifice and Harry needing to return to the Dursley’s because of his untested theory about the protections there. Lucius said the letter he received basically insinuated that the Malfoy’s are playing us in order to get close to Harry.”

“I can understand being concerned about Lucius,” Remus continued quickly, “kind of… I mean neither you nor I ever saw him as anything less than a death eater until recently. But… seriously, who does he actually think is trying to attack Harry during the holidays? Based on everything Harry has told us, most of the danger he’s experienced has happened at Hogwarts.”

"Maybe that’s because he’s not at the Dursley’s?” Sirius sighed. Remus contemplated the idea for a second. Based on conversations he’d had with the other teachers, he had his own theories about Harry’s first few years at school, primarily that it was Dumbledore’s failings that had led to Harry’s brushes with death.

“Still no mention of Hermione. That’s beginning to read as really odd.”

“Yeah, I thought that.” Sirius rubbed his hand across his face. “I don’t like it. Any normal person would have questions. I mean, the rest of the wizarding world do if the number of letters you’ve been fielding is anything to go by.”

“I agree.” Remus paused, “I’ve been meaning for us to talk with Cissa, Lucius and Snape… but with everything going on with Hermione it hasn’t felt like the right time.”

“Why?”

“I think we need to know more about what happened with Quirrell in Harry’s first year – he was ‘possessed’ by Voldemort, right? And then the diary debacle and the Chamber of Secrets? Sirius, none of us have really talked about the fact that Voldemort is meant to be dead. How can a dead man possess another, and what the fuck was that diary? It somehow controlled the Weasley girl. That’s dark magic.”

“What are you thinking?” Sirius groaned, not entirely ready to have another mystery to solve.

“I’m thinking that Dumbledore isn’t afraid of death eaters with a vendetta… I think he’s scared of Voldemort. The fucker clearly isn’t as ‘gone’ as we all thought, and I’m fairly certain Dumbledore knows something we don’t. We need to talk to the people close to us who might have some insight and then we are probably going to need to sit down with the old man.”

Sirius flopped his head back, so his neck was resting against the back of the sofa. “Great. So, we’re adding Voldemort’s return to the list of fucked up things we need to deal with?”

“Sorry Pads.”