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Chapter Text

Chapter One

September 1st 1990

Theo and Draco rode on the Hogwarts Express, knees pressed together. Feeling terribly nervous, Theo wanted to hold Draco's hand, but he didn't want his best friend to think that he was afraid. He didn't want Goyle, Crabbe, or Zabini to think he was frightened either. Pansy had vanished to chat with Daphne and the other new first-year girls from families that they were all acquainted with, the girls that were expected to sort into Slytherin.

What if he didn't sort into Slytherin? His father would kill him.

Just then the compartment door opened and there stood a girl that Theo had never seen before.

Without preamble, she said, "A boy has lost his toad, none of you have happened to see it have you?"

They all shook just their heads, even Zabini who always had something snarky to say.

She smiled and Theo was drawn into her amber eyes. He had never seen anyone with eyes that looked like liquid gold before.

"Fair enough, but if you do see it. A boy called Neville Longbottom has lost it." And then she was gone, the door clicking behind her.

"Bit of a whirlwind," Theo said, pulling out his book.

"Wonder who she was," Draco whispered after Blaise had disappeared to the loo and Greg and Vince were sound asleep. “Did you see those curls? She looks like you before your mum charms your hair.”

“Maybe she’s a cousin?” Theo wondered.

“Wouldn’t we have met her before, then?” Draco asked.

Theo shrugged, returning to his book, his nerves soothed by the familiar words of Hogwarts: A History. However, he couldn’t stop thinking about the mysterious girl. She hadn't even introduced herself.

****************

Ahead of them, they could hear the girl with the riotous curls chatting with another boy who had to be the one who had lost his toad. She was reciting facts from Hogwarts: a History and Draco elbowed Theo. “She’s read your favourite book.” Theo nodded, even more interested in who she could be.

Draco however was interested in someone behind them and as Theo watched, Draco's attempt to befriend Harry Potter failed spectacularly. Theo felt bad for his best friend, but he was a little relieved too. He already had to share Draco with Blaise, Greg, and Vince. Harry Potter would be too novel and Theo knew how Draco could get obsessed with new toys.

They filed into the Great Hall for their sorting ceremony and Theo listened as the girl was reciting facts about the charmed ceiling. She was just in front of him now and Theo leaned forward whispering, "Even knowing about the charm work, it's still very impressive."

She looked at him in surprise, a smile in her amber eyes, "I am quite impressed."

"Hannah Abbott," the stern-faced Matron called - Professor McGonagall - and the girl moved to sit under the sorting hat.

"Hufflepuff!" The hat announced.

Draco snorted and Theo couldn’t quite swallow the chuckle that burst out of him.

"Neville Longbottom." The girl squeezed Neville’s hand and as he headed up, the recovered toad clutched in his hands for some reason that Theo could not understand. Why hadn’t the boy brought a carrier for his familiar?

"Hufflepuff." Draco met Theo’s look and they both rolled their eyes. Hufflepuff was the most pathetic of the Hogwarts Houses.

"Gregory Goyle."

"Slytherin."

Boos from the Gryffindor table had the girl scowling.

"Why are they being such tossers?" she muttered.

"Because there has never been an evil witch or wizard that wasn't in Slytherin," Ronald Weasley hissed at her from his place in line.

"That sounds like propaganda," Hermione responded primly, and Theo felt the warmth bloom in his chest. Theo noticed that even Harry Potter looked uncomfortable at what Weasley was saying, his body language stiffening.

"Ronald Weasley."

"Gryffindor." Of course, the Weasley was put into Gryffindor, his family had been there since the founding. The roar of excitement from the table had to be his dozen siblings because the boy was nothing special as far as Theo could tell. House placement tended to run in families and there had never been a more fierce rivalry than between Slytherin and Gryffindor.

"Harry Potter." The hall burst into chatter instantly at his name and several of the professors on the dais sat a little straighter, very interested in where the hat would put the Boy-Who-Lived.

The room drowned in silence while the hat took its time before finally announcing a long time before announcing, "Gryffindor!" The cheers set Theo’s teeth on edge, but he was glad that he wouldn’t have to deal with Potter in Slytherin, especially as eager as Draco had been to be his friend. Theo still felt the jealousy under his skin like a bee sting or a colony of ants.

"Draco Malfoy."

Theo squeezed Draco’s hand before his best mate headed to the front. The hat barely touched his brow before screaming, "Slytherin!"

There were more boos, but Draco looked as confident as anything walking to his spot next to Greg. Theo wished he had half the aura that the Malfoy heir exuded. If Draco was a miniature Lucius, Theo was his mother in masculine miniature. He hoped that there was enough of his father in him for Theo to be placed in Slytherin.

"Where are you hoping to be placed?" The girl whispered to him as several Ravenclaws in a row were sorted.

"Slytherin," Theo whispered back. She nodded, looking transfixed at the hat.

"Hermione Granger."

She went forward. So that was her name.

The Sorting Hat appeared to be arguing with her. Finally, after nearly five minutes of nervous silence, the hat erupted with "Slytherin!"

She beamed at Theo and scowled at the Gryffindors booing her before heading over and joining Draco and Greg.

"Theodore Nott Jr."

Please Slytherin. Please Slytherin.

Are you sure? the hat asked. You'd do well in Ravenclaw. It would be an easier path for you at Hogwarts.

But not at home, my father would kill me, literally. Please. I just need to survive. Notts are always in Slytherin, please don't make my father doubt my paternity.

The hat seemed put out, but obligingly yelled out "Slytherin!"

Theo grinned widely at Draco and couldn’t hear anything as he walked to his best friend.

“See,” Draco smirked, “I told you not to worry.”

Theo didn’t tell Draco he had to argue with the hat.

Hermione was there on Draco’s other side. She reached over him and shook his hand, “Hermione Granger.”

“Theo Nott. A pleasure.”

“We look alike. Our hair. Draco was just remarking on it,” Hermione said, smiling.

“I was wondering if you were a cousin earlier, although I don’t have any that I know of. My father was an only child and my mother was estranged from her family.”

“It’s unlikely,” Hermione confided, “as I’m a Muggleborn, or at least that’s the assumption. I was adopted.”

One of the prefects was behind her and made a startled noise, before nearly running towards the end of the table where the seventh years were talking animatedly.

Draco and Theo’s eyes met. Theo wished he was a legilimens so that he and Draco could talk in their minds. Graceful, petite Hermione who had read Hogwarts: A History was nothing like any Muggleborn that had ever been described to them. Theo liked her. Was he allowed to like a Muggleborn?

Greg was talking with Vince who had joined them. Daphne and Pansy and another girl were on their way over to the table.

“What’s this?” A tall striking girl from the other end of the table walked over to Hermione, looking serious, “Have I heard correctly? Slytherin has its first Muggleborn in three hundred years?”

“Yes, technically,” Hermione said, some of the bravado leaving her as she looked up at the girl with her shiny prefect badge pinned to her robes, “I’m adopted and I don’t know my birth parents. I could be a half-blood, but I was raised by muggles.”

The seventh-year prefect nodded, “I’m Aurelia Selwyn. There’ll be a Slytherin House meeting about you, little one, after the feast.” And with that she was off, talking to several people before heading up to the dais and passing a note to one of the professors, Draco's godfather,Severus Snape. Theo had met the man a handful of times at Draco’s birthday parties. Professor Snape always looked as though he had swallowed poison and needed to ask someone that he didn’t like for the antidote and thought he would rather die. He looked very serious as he read the note.

Pansy sat across from Draco and Theo. "What's going on?"

Greg pointed at Hermione, "Hermione might be Muggleborn, she’s adopted though, so maybe not?" Greg looked over at her apologetically, "Did I get that right?"

Hermione smiled back, "Yeah, that's about the gist of it."

"A Muggleborn," Pansy's eyes widened.

Theo decided to cut her off before she said something awful, "One of the prefects, Selwyn, said that Hermione would be the first Muggleborn in Slytherin in three hundred years."

"The prefect said there would be a House Meeting about Hermione after dinner," Draco added.

Pansy nodded and tucked into her meal. Theo could hear her murmuring the word Muggleborn under her breath every so often.

Up and down the Slytherin table they were gossiping about her, but Hermione kept her expression bland and ate her dinner as though it didn’t matter to her. Draco kept stealing glances at her and for a change, Theo wasn’t jealous in the slightest. He found her as intriguing as Draco obviously did.

*********

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

The journey down into the basement, what they called the dungeon, was a revelation for Hermione, as were the amazing glass windows that revealed the murky lake they had crossed in the boats from below.

Immediately the meeting had begun led by the 7th year prefects, Aurelia Selwyn and Octavius Fawley. Their names were whispered in Hermione’s ear by Greg who was to her right. She knew that she needed to memorise who everyone was as quickly as possible so that she would make a good impression. Slytherin House prided itself on its family connections.

"As I’m sure you’ve all heard, we have a Muggleborn in Slytherin House. Hermione, please come up front.” Hermione put on her most confident face and stepped forward. Aurelia put a hand on her shoulder. “We will not permit the use of any slurs or mistreatment of Hermione inside Slytherin dorms. I will take points and so will Fawley here. Don't cost us the House Cup. Outside of Slytherin House in the hallway, if someone mistreats her, you are to protect her or get revenge and most importantly not get caught. Remember cunning and stealth is the Slytherin way. We aren't brash Gryffindors. "

Professor Snape entered through a door Hermione hadn't seen at first, partially obscured as it was by a large tapestry.

The professor cleared his throat drawing all eyes to him, "I will add that in most cases, Muggleborns placed in Slytherin are later discovered to be adopted as we already know Ms. Granger was, and their lineage is later determined to be half blood or pure blood, upon occasion they are discovered to be descended from Squibs. Regardless, we will treat Miss Granger as what she is, a Slytherin. As the rest of the school is against us, we must be a united front at Hogwarts. There will be Purebloods in other Houses who may attempt to hex and jinx her. Keep a special eye on the Gryffindors, they will use it as an excuse and seek to blame our house as they are supposedly of the Light."

He was a man of steel countenance, giving nothing away to the young people he was speaking to.

“Loyalty is the foundation of Slytherin House. Together we survive.”

Hermione inscribed those words on her heart.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

September 1, 1971

“Loyalty is the foundation of Slytherin House. Together we survive,” his father was saying and shook his shoulder, “Sirius, are you listening to me?”

Sirius, who had been staring at all the children on the platform that he had never met before, had not been listening, but he could guess what his father had been saying. "Of course, father, I know what's expected of me. I was just looking at all the children that I have never seen before." Sirius tried not to think about Regulus at home with their mother. Kreacher would hide him if she woke up from her stupor. The house elf was devoted.

"Half-bloods mostly," his father sneered at the other families, "I As you are a Black, they are all beneath you. None of the Purebloods in your year are even close to our rank, plus all the blood traitors. And there's a handful of filthy muggles every year. How they are even allowed onto the platform I don't know. It is abhorrent."

"Siri! Uncle Orion!" The dulcet tones of his favorite cousin (now that Andromeda was disowned) carried over the din.

"Ah Narcissa, my dear. Third year for you isn't it? Do you mind watching over Sirius on the train? It's a long ride to be so unsupervised."

Sirius suppressed a snort. What was he going to do? Jump from the window? Escape his life? Or worse, talk to blood traitors and muggles? What would he even discuss with them?

Sirius looked up and saw that Narcissa's eyes were dancing as though she had caught his thought. She may have. He needed to keep himself under better control, just because he was away from his mother did not mean that others could not pry into his mind. He would probably get a respite from the Cruciatus and Imperius curse though and for that he would be grateful.

"Sirius can certainly sit with me and my friends," Narcissa smiled, she really was very pretty and they both knew that their parents were in discussions to set up a match. Neither of them were particularly thrilled with that idea. "Come along Sirius, all the best cars will be full. Goodbye Uncle. Give my best to Aunt Walburga and Regulus."

"Of course, dear," And with those parting words to Narcissa, Sirius’ father apparated away not bothering to walk the twenty feet to the apparition point.

Sirius let out a sigh of relief that his father was finally gone.

"Come along, " Narcissa smiled, "And if you tell on me about the company I am keeping, I will make sure your shampoo is flobberworm slime until I graduate from Hogwarts. Is that clear?"

Sirius nodded, gulping nervously and followed her onto the train.

She found an empty compartment and placed her small bag on the seat next to her, gesturing at him to sit across from her and looking expectantly at the door.

First a young woman with deep blue eyes and copper skin opened the door. Her robes were the finest white Acromantula silk with elaborate blue embroidery. Sirius didn't recognize her or her features at all.

"Sibella Pythiakis," Narcissa introduced, "My cousin, Sirius Black, scion of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. Sirius, this is Sibella, never Bella, she is the future Lady Nott. The contracts are already signed."

"Indeed. Only a matter of finishing school now," the beautiful young woman tossed long dark curls over her shoulder. "Luckily my father had enough clout to allow me to finish school before the wedding. My family's genealogy traces back to the Oracles of Delphi in Ancient Greece. My magical pedigree is very long. Not quite as impressive as the Noble House of Black. I've heard you have ties to Merlin and Morgana from Narcissa’s father." Turning to her friend, Sibella smirked, "he is prettier than I expected Cissa, are you sure you don't wish to marry him?"

"I think that Cissy and I would not suit," Sirius interjected, "You see, I'd very much like her to be happy and I can't imagine that that would be her fate if she marries me."

"How altruistic of you, dear cousin," Narcissa quipped, "Bury that sentiment deep before the sorting hat gets anywhere near you."

The compartment door slid open and Sirius thought that lightning had struck him. He'd never seen a prettier man in all his life. The long blonde hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones were striking. He looked familiar, but not overly so.

"Ah this must be your cousin Cissy?" The young man stepped forward and Sirius could see the prefect badge on his robes, "Lucius Malfoy at your service. I'm looking forward to having another House heir at Hogwarts. Second and third sons simply don't understand the pressure we are under. Don't you agree?"

Sirius thought of all his worries about Regulus, about their House’s future, about his responsibilities and nodded. He took Lucius' extended hand and shook it.

"I'm sure you have questions about Hogwarts or what to expect. This is my sixth year so I have experienced it all a time or two. Watch out for Headmaster Dumbledore, he favours the Gryffindors to an ugly extent. So we must stick together. Loyalty is the foundation of Slytherin House. Together we survive." Lucius gave him a kind smile and touched Sirius' shoulder before pulling back into a more aristocratic pose.

"Together we survive," Sirius repeated.

Surviving sounded very good to Sirius Orion Black.

And if charisma was any measurement, Lucius Malfoy looked like exactly the kind of young man that could help Sirius do just that.

Chapter Text

************

Chapter Four

September 1991 - Halloween

By the end of the first week, Theo had prevented Hermione from being hexed off one of the moving staircases by a seventh year Hufflepuff no less, and Draco had stepped in the way of four nasty jinxes when they'd been in classes with the Gryffindors. He hated Weasley even more now.

One of the Gryffindor girls had tried to sabotage Hermione’s potion, but Pansy, who was her partner, and Snape had seen immediately saving Hermione from some nasty burns. Parvati had gotten a month of detention scrubbing cauldrons and lost her house fifty points. Hermione had been shocked at first, but then became more wary in their shared classes.

Harry Potter didn’t get involved in the hexing of Hermione, but he didn’t speak out against it or stop anyone either. Draco was not impressed with the way that the “Boy-Who-Lived” failed to utilise his social capital and expressed as much to Theo, who wondered if Draco would have made excuses for Potter if he had accepted Draco’s friendship or had been sorted into Slytherin.

Theo was grateful that Hermione was always with them and it made it easy enough to protect her. He’d had to drag Draco to the library a handful of times and convince Hermione to check out some books and bring them back to the common room to study. Madam Pince seemed to have a soft spot for Hermione already, and Draco had turned on the Malfoy charm to convince her to allow Hermione to borrow reference books overnight.

After three weeks of constant attacks, of which Draco and Theo made sure Hermione was only aware of a third, Hermione was feeling exceedingly emotionally drained by the whole thing. She was trying not to feel fragile, but she felt like one more hex or insult and she was going to break.

***********

Flying lessons were a bit of a nightmare for Hermione. All of the first years were together for this first introductory lesson, all forty of them. Hermione gave Neville a little wave since she was rarely in classes with Hufflepuffs which meant unfortunately she infrequently saw her first friend.

“Madam Hooch is a horrible teacher. How is anyone supposed to learn like this,” she whispered to Draco and Theo who had taken to being on either side of her when they could manage it. Hexes could come from any direction after all. And they were coming, in nearly every class.

Theo nodded, “Just do your best and Draco will give you some lessons later. He’s been flying since he was three.” Draco smirked at that, feeling the little ego boost.

Longbottom managed to fly up into the air and nearly die to Hermione’s horrified astonishment. Theo stood there in shock with her. The Longbottom heir was horribly accident prone. Theo wondered if someone had jinxed him.

“Look,” Hermione pointed out, “He’s lost his remembrall.”

Draco sighed, put out, “I’ll grab it.” As soon as he walked over to get it, Weasley and Potter were in his face demanding that he give it back.

Theo rolled his eyes knowing exactly what kind of behaviour that the Gryffindors were about to cause.

“He’s about to do something awful isn’t he?” Hermione whispered to Theo, who only nodded.

“Shite.”

“Hermione!” Theo grinned at her language, and tried not to look while his best mate made his best impression of a Pureblood aristocratic arse. Hermione peeked through her hands, and snorted in annoyance when Potter was the one that went to the rescue of the ball that Draco had just been trying to pick up anyway.

*******

Weasley chose Halloween afternoon to be a particular tosser to Hermione, when she was already feeling a little homesick for her usual Muggle holiday celebrations. The lack of costumes and trick or treating at the castle had her feeling down. She supposed that it made sense considering that there were real actual ghosts flitting around. Hermione wondered if they had a party.

As they were all walking across the castle courtyard to go from Charms class to the Great Hall for dinner, Ron Weasley’s voice rang out ahead of the group of Slytherins where he was clustered around Harry Potter along with several of the other Gryffindors. "It's Levi-OOOOH-sa not LevioSAR. She's a nightmare, honestly. It's no wonder she hasn't got any friends!”

Her lip started to quiver and she ran off rather than allow anyone to see that the oaf had reduced her to tears.

Theo, who had been near her when Weasley had been so nasty, urgently whispered in Draco’s ear what had been said before grabbing Pansy by the wrist and tearing off after Hermione. She had a head start, but Theo was fast on her heels.

He looked back at Draco one last time and tried to send a message with his eyes: make the wanker pay.

“You know what’s a bit of a nightmare, Weaselbee?” Draco called out, causing the Gryffindors to stop, spinning to look back at Draco and the rest of the Slytherin boys from their year.

“Your atrocious red hair,” Blaise pointed out, “You could save us all from blindness and wear a cap. Something brown and patched would probably suit you.” Blaise cleaned some dirt from beneath his nails as though the entire thing was beneath him.

“Even your familiar is secondhand,” Greg sneered. “I swear your older brother had that smelly rat before you did.”

“Well his robes clearly are,” Vince pointed out. “I doubt Weasley’s ever had a new piece of clothes in his life.”

“Well I heard your house is just about ready to fall down around your filthy little blood traitor heads.” Draco smirked at Weasley. “What’s it called again? The Rabbit Warren? Is that because your parents breed like rabbits?”

And that was all it took for the boy’s face to turn beet red and run at Draco, swinging wildly. He missed of course, because Draco side-stepped, but Greg punched him hard, clipping his ear. The other Gryffindor boys had rushed in then, though Draco did notice that Potter was only trying to pull Weasley out.

Dean Thomas was tussling on the ground with Greg and Seamus Finnegan and Vince were shoving at each other.

Potter had Weasley’s middle in a tight hold and was pulling him back when Blaise stepped closer, “Oh Weasel?” Ron turned to look and Blaise’s fist met his cheek sending his head flying back into Potter’s nose which crunched, he dropped Weasley to the ground.

“Never,” Blaise kneeled next to Weasley, “Speak badly of Hermione again.” Blaise kicked him where he lay on the ground. “Do you know who my mother is? You do not want me to inform her of the way that you are treating a young lady at school. It won’t go well for you, or your family. Your father works at the Ministry right? Very public that.”

Weasley had gone pale.

“Remember Weasley,” Draco sneered. “Leave Hermione alone. Your betters are not your concern.”

“My betters? She’s just a mudblood.” Weasley snarled, his face turning as red as his hair as he dragged himself to his feet.

The surrounding crowd went “ooooooooooh” in shock. Draco saw that Potter even blanched at Weasley’s use of the slur.

“Of course you’d bring up blood status,” Blaise sniffed dismissively.

“I thought your family was of the Light,” Greg pointed out with a disgusted glare.

“Doesn’t your father literally work with Muggles?” Vince added.

“Typical,” Draco spat annoyed. “She’s better than you in literally every way. What were you again? Another failed attempt at a daughter? You aren’t the best of the Weasley brothers after all. And your parents stopped after a girl. Clearly you weren’t what they were hoping for.”

“Aren’t Slytherins supposed to hate Muggleborns?” Weasley snarled. “Why do you care what I say about her?”

Draco scoffed at the ginger. “You clearly know nothing so don’t talk about things you don’t understand.”

Weasley’s face turned even more red, brighter than his hair even. “I don’t know what there isn’t to understand. Your fathers are all filthy Death Eaters,” he spat.

And that’s when the violence broke out.

*******

Theo saw Hermione rush up the stairs and run into one of the rooms near the landing. When he realised it was a girls’ lavatory then he froze on the threshold for a moment.

Pansy raised an eyebrow at him, “Aren’t you coming?”

“What if she’s indisposed?”

“Theo, she didn’t run into this bathroom in order to use the loo,” Pansy snorted, ducking inside.

Hermione was sitting on the floor against the wall, weeping with her arms wrapped around her knees.

“Weasley is a twat,” Pansy supplied, casting a scourgify and then sitting next to Hermione.

“Pansy language,” said Hermione weakly through her tears.

“It may be vulgar, but it's not a lie,” Theo agreed, patting Hermione reassuringly on the knee before he pulled his hand back worried he’d offend her. “Besides, you have lots of friends. I don’t think that anyone in Slytherin in our year doesn’t like you. You’ve got the Longbottom heir. Although I think you might wish you hadn’t made friends with him at some point, whatever he’s been cursed with is dangerous. Padma in Ravenclaw studies with you. Weasley is just jealous because Flitwick gave us house points.”

“You really think so?” Hermione asked, tearfully.

“We know so,” Pansy stated. “We’re your friends. Weasley knows nothing, a fact he proves daily. His parents ought to be mortified.”

Hermione giggled a little and Theo hoped that they had succeeded in helping her to feel better.

A ghost girl emerged from the ceiling and looked down at the trio of Slytherins. “Are you aware that this is a girls’ lavatory?”

Theo blushed. “Oh yes, I shouldn’t be here. Can we go ladies?” He stood up and offered the girls his hands, helping them to their feet.

Hermione nodded, “But can we go back to Slytherin. I’m not really keen on going to the Great Hall right now.”

Theo nodded. “Sure Hermione. We can probably get the elves to bring us some tea.”

“Oh that sounds perfect.” Hermione smiled halfheartedly, but Pansy put her arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze.

*********

Draco and Blaise spent all of dinner sending dirty looks over towards the Gryffindor table. Weasley and Finnegan were just as engaged at throwing foul looks back at them.

“Where are Pans, Theo and Hermione,” Daphne asked, sitting down next to Blaise.

“Not sure actually,” Blaise admitted. “Weasley was a right git to Hermione earlier and Pans and Theo went after her.”

“Oh that’s why the massive points loss?” Daphne waved her hand toward the house point counters.

Draco shrugged indifferently, but he felt awful. Slytherin had been in first place and now they were third.

“Weasley called Hermione a mudblood,” Draco admitted, his voice low.

“He didn’t.” Daphne was shocked. “I always miss the dramatics waiting for Millie and Tracey to pack their things. I’m walking with the rest of you next week.” She looked at the food and frowned. “I'm not really hungry honestly. They are probably down in the common room. I’m going to check on Hermione.”

Draco and Blaise barely noticed her leave, returning to sneering at the Gryffindors. Potter was the only one who appeared even remotely embarrassed about what had transpired today, but regardless Gryffindor and Slytherin’s enmity was alive and well in the current first year class.

*********

Theo, Pansy and Hermione had the common room mostly to themselves since everyone else was at dinner. One of the seventh years was writing an essay in the corner, but he was ignoring the first years who were beneath his notice.

Daphne plopped down next to Theo on the couches in the common room, “Hermione you are going to have to work even harder to get us house points. After you went inside the Castle, Draco, Blaise, Greg and Vince got into a brawl with the Gryffindors and both houses lost significant points.”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “How significant are we talking?”

A large boom shook the room, and they all looked up at the black chandelier which jumped in a disturbing manner.

“What was that?” Hermione asked.

“I have no idea,” Theo admitted nervously, then flinched when a second boom shook the room. “But it can’t be good.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

1971

As the train approached Hogsmeade, his cousin and her friends were full of advice for him andSirius tried his best to absorb it all. Why hadn’t they gone through all this hours ago? At least then he could have paid better attention to all the information. He felt so overwhelmed with everything that they were telling him. How was he ever to remember it all? He mentally shook himself and tried to force himself to focus.

“The first years take the boats across the Black Lake,” Narcissa was saying.

“Don’t stick your hands in the water. The Grindylows bite,” Sibella interjected.

“Not to mention the giant squid,” Lucius added, conversationally, as he was embodying the absolute picture of aristocratic indolence, arm thrown across the back of the seat, his long legs stretched out. Sirius very much envied his long hair.

“Are you serious?” Sirius asked, sure his eyes were huge. They had to be teasing him. Right?

“Deadly,” Narcissa stated, her face stern. “Then they’ll lead you inside the castle with all the other first years, be careful who you speak with. Find out who their families are, as the heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black, they are likely to know who you are. It wouldn’t do to speak to the wrong people. Everyone will be writing back to their parents tonight so anything that you do will absolutely get back to your mother and father within a few days.”

“Discretion is the better part of valour,” Lucius said, rising. “I need to go find my cohorts so I can ride with them in the carriages. See you soon, Cissy.” He kissed Narcissa on the cheek and she blushed prettily as he left the compartment. Sibella sighed in mock jealousy, but Sirius considered that Lord Nott was at least twenty years her senior. The man was older than Narcissa’s father. Perhaps he was more like thirty years her senior. Was she happy with such a match? How could she be?

Sirius silently promised himself that if he had daughters that they would marry someone close to their own age. Lucius and Narcissa seemed like a suitable match. He nodded to himself as he gathered his things. It was never too early to begin planning about one’s heirs.

Narcissa kept him in front of her as they disembarked the train, scowling pointedly at a few other first years who attempted to speak to Sirius. Once they were off the train, he could see a huge man waving his hand with a lantern. “First years come this way!”

“The half giant will take you to boats,” Narcissa sneered slightly in the direction of the big man about whom the nicest word would be unkempt. “I’ll see you at the Slytherin table before you know it.” She swiftly hugged him, then pushed him towards the other incoming students.

The man was positively shaggy and he smelled ripe enough that Sirius blanched as he came closer. Sirius stayed towards the back of the group of first years and watched as Narcissa and Sibella disappeared in the opposite direction.

The crowd of children took a path through the woods, eventually the trees ended and a huge lake was visible. The shore had dozens of boats waiting for them, each with a lantern hanging from the stem of the boat.

“Alright step lively now. Four to a boat. Don’t want to be late for your own Sorting now, do you?” The half-giant joked.

Sirius started to board a boat, but a dark haired boy was helping a girl with long red hair aboard and snarled at him, “Can’t you count? We’re full, idiot.”

Sirius felt the Black temper rising in him and he wanted to use one of the family hexes on this child who presumed to speak to him like that. Instead he stepped backwards, offering a brief “Oh so sorry.” He’d get his vengeance later on whoever this boy was. Sirius memorised his face.

He climbed into the next boat, which only had one boy in it so far, Sirius couldn’t help but stare at the wicked looking scars that bisected his face. The other boy stared up at the castle and didn’t bother to look at Sirius at all. Sirius fought the urge to do something outlandish to force him to look. Sirius could feel the madness under his skin, like it was a separate entity, he breathed and told himself that he was in charge of himself, not his blood, not the urge that seemed to beat in time with his heart. His mother wasn’t here to correct him. He needed to keep it together. He was stronger than these feelings he got sometimes, he had to be. He wasn’t safe at home. He was in public, he could ruin his reputation for life if he did something crazy.

He was so focused on the boy with the scars that he didn’t even acknowledge the other boys that sat in the boat. He couldn’t have told anyone about them later nor did he really look at the castle. He was just thinking of all the ways he could force the other boy to look at him.

Just look at me, Sirius hissed in his mind.

Look at me!

Look at me!

Look at me!

The boy never looked Sirius’ way. He continued staring up at the illuminated castle as though he was completely alone on the small boat. Sirius could feel his magic reaching out and it felt too odd. Why wouldn’t he acknowledge him? Did he think he was better than a scion of a Noble House?

Sirius was going to make him pay for that. How dare he?

*********

Standing in the line to be sorted, Sirius just pretended that he was better than everyone else because he was, wasn’t he?

A boy stumbled into him, blonde and mousy, and Sirius glared at him for daring to touch him. He was still angry about the boy on the boat ignoring him. Now that they were in the light, he could tell that the boy’s robes were ratty and old, not like Sirius’ brand new bespoke robes from Madam Malkin’s.

“Peter,” another boy with ridiculous circular glasses urged the boy to come back next to him. Sirius rolled his eyes at them both. Every wizard worth their salt knew that Goblins could fix eye problems if you could pay their fees. His younger brother Regulus had gone to them last year after the St. Mungo’s healer said he needed glasses. No son of the Ancient and Noble House of Black would be caught looking as though he was less than perfect. Their family had appearances to uphold.

A crone stepped forward with a large scroll in her hands.

“Now I will call your names and then you will be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin.” She said the last as though it tasted foul in her mouth. Sirius felt the insult down to his bones. She was wearing Gryffindor colours, a small subtle ribbon on her conical hat. If he’d ever considered trying for another house, she made him reconsider. Narcissa was in Slytherin and she cared about him, maybe more than anyone else in all the world except for Reg. He wouldn’t tolerate someone who insulted anything about her.

“Sirius Black.” The matron announced. Sirius hadn’t caught her name. He’d find out soon enough.

He walked to the front of the Great Hall past all the tables of students who were quiet while they watched the first years. He pulled himself up on the stool and a rather mouldy hat was put atop his head. It smelled. He wrinkled his nose in distaste involuntarily. Narcissa shot him a reassuring half smile and he could see Lucius with his prefect badge on his robes measuring him. Sirius did not want the Malfoy heir to find him wanting. He wanted that connection. Lucius Malfoy oozed the confidence and power that Sirius wanted.

“Now what do we have here? Another Black, I know what we usually do with all of you, but maybe that is too hasty. I see some bravery in there, some desire for action and violence. You love books but not for learning’s sake so Ravenclaw is not for you. Certainly not Hufflepuff.”

Sirius scoffed at that. I just need to survive and prepare to be Lord Black, he thought back at the hat.

“Are you sure? You could make friends in Gryffindor and strike out on your own. They’d encourage your desires to do wild, unexpected things.”

I don’t need friends. Sirius looked at Narcissa who was chewing her bottom lip in concern. I need my family.

“If you’re certain, then it better be….”

“Slytherin!” The Sorting Hat yelled, causing three quarters of the Great Hall to boo, but the Slytherin table broke out into loud applause. Narcissa was glowing and Lucius Malfoy was saying something to those nearest him and smiling.

He’d done the right thing.

Sirius breathed a sigh of relief.

*****

Sirius was too nervous to eat so he just watched everyone else around him. Narcissa kept catching his eye and smiling at him from her place down the table.

Remus Lupin was the name of the boy with the scars on his face. He’d gone to Gryffindor, but Sirius couldn’t understand how. He appeared afraid of his own shadow, not acknowledging anyone around him. Sirius hadn’t ever heard that surname before. He wondered if the boy was a half-blood or perhaps a Pureblood from outside of the Sacred 28.

Sirius hadn’t heard the boy speak yet. And he felt an urge to make him talk. Would he cry if Sirius hurt him? He wouldn’t hurt him much, just a little. He deserved it for ignoring Sirius on the boat.

He looked up once and Sirius caught his eyes. He hadn’t been staring at Lupin, he hadn’t. It was just an accident, but Lupin’s eyes widened in awareness of Sirius’ appraisal. Sirius smirked and looked away, leaving the other boy confused.

*******

Severus Snape was the name of the boy who’d been rude to him when they’d been boarding the boats and Sirius was civil enough, for now. He was already considering all the ways that he’d ruin the little half-blood’s life, not that his Sacred 28 mother hadn’t done it already by marrying a filthy Muggle, not even a Mudblood.

Snape’s mother must have some sort of deformity, Sirius thought. There were hardly enough Pureblood girls to go around and for her to marry so beneath her station. Sirius shook his head.

Avery and Mulciber were buffoons, but from good families, so Sirius ignored their blathering and continued to watch and listen to those around him.

Rabastan Lestrange was on Sirius’ other side and was a cousin of sorts as his older brother was married to Bellatrix. Rabastan was also quiet. His dark hair and dark eyes considered everything around them. Sirius thought that he’d make a good ally, perhaps even something a friend since they were family after all. And in two years Reg would be here.

Sirius couldn’t wait to have his brother with him. They’d rule this place.

**********

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

Halloween 1991

The Defence Against the Dark Arts professor running into the Great Hall in his ridiculous turban took everyone by surprise, but not as much as him screaming ‘TROLL!’ at the top of his lungs.

“THERE’S A TROLL IN THE DUNGEONS!” And then the man fainted. Draco stared at him in shock which was made worse when the Headmaster spoke.

“Prefects escort your house back to their dormitories!” Dumbledore announced loudly.

The Slytherin table exploded in disbelief at this. Most of the witches shrieked in terror and the wizards grumbled mutinously.

“Our dormitory is in the bloody dungeon,” Blaise hissed angrily, his dark eyes bright as though he was fighting off tears.

Tracey and Millicent looked terrified and gripped each other in a tight embrace. “This can’t be safe,” Millie gasped.

“Dumbledore really doesn’t care if we live or die,” Greg bit out, appalled. “I thought my father was exaggerating about how much he hates Slytherins.” Vince shook his head as though it wasn’t real. They were all well aware that each of them was terrified, but they were pretending to be angry instead and each had the decency not to draw attention to the matter.

Draco bit back what he wanted to say, which was that his father will hear about this! But his father would hear and his mother too, he’d write them tonight as soon as this mess was sorted.

Aurelia Selwyn was next to them quickly, her unflappable calm soothing the anxious group of Slytherins, “Alright, firsties. You are with me. Wands in your hands and lets get you headed to the dorms. We’re following Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall to be sure that we’ll get where we need to go safely.” If the prefect was concerned that they were all going to die on their way she didn’t show it.

Draco looked up to see his godfather in intense conversation with the head of Gryffindor House. The two of them actually looked…friendly, perhaps not to an extreme, but certainly they had a good working relationship. Draco could tell from the attentive expressions on their faces.

“Come now Slytherin House,” McGonagall ordered. “Do not dawdle or fall behind!”

“Professor McGonagall will be in the front with the first years and I will be moving along with our group. Please wands out, everyone, and remember your Defence against Dark Arts lessons upper years,” their Head of House spoke tersely to the little snakes, his own wand clenched in his hand.

“Professor Snape!” Draco waved his arm urgently to get his godfather’s attention.

“Draco, this isn’t really a good time,” the Potions professor drawled as he came up to him. .

“Pansy and Theo went looking for Hermione earlier and none of them were at dinner! I don’t know where they are. Daphne left before the troll announcement to look for them in the common room. They must be alright, right sir?”

“Foolish,” Snape ground out, the vein next to his eye twitching slightly. “Stay with the group, Draco. I’m not keen to lose you too.”

“But Professor!” Draco was afraid that he would cry, his godfather had to take him seriously he had to.

“Not now, Draco.” Snape commanded in a stern voice. “Let’s get to the common room. If Mr. Nott, and Misses Parkinson, Granger and Greengrass are not there, then I will search for them. Let’s not worry until there is a reason to do so.” Draco wanted to say that he couldn’t help but worry.

Theo was his best friend, but Hermione was as essential to his happiness as sunlight, as broomsticks, as hugs from his mum. Draco wasn’t sure how that had happened, but he knew that he needed both of them to be okay.

He did not know what he would do if they weren’t.

*******

Blessedly there’d been no sign of the troll besides huge footprints that Draco was certain would give him nightmares later.

When Snape whispered the password and opened the doors, Draco had rushed in, looking for his missing friends. Seeing them sitting on the couches made him release a breath that he hadn’t realised that he had been holding.

He rushed forward and threw his arms around the two of them, while Pansy complained about how he never greeted her like that, but Draco couldn’t even focus on her when Theo and Hermione were looking at him as though he was crazy, but they didn’t mind.

“Thank Salazar the two of you are alright!” Draco squeezed them tighter. “There’s a troll loose in the castle and it was in the dungeons.”

“Oh bloody hell,” Theo muttered. “We heard it out in the hall. Thank the gods we were all too nervous to go investigate.”

“How did a troll get into the castle? Aren’t there spells to prevent that sort of thing?” Hermione asked.

Draco shook his head, burying his face into two sets of brown curls. They were alive, alive and safe.

“I’d think so, but…” Theo trailed off. “Draco are you alright, mate?”

Draco shook his head again, wishing that he could blur the lines separating them so that they would never worry him like this again, and Theo and Hermione squeezed him back.

“We’re right here. Everything is going to be fine,” Hermione reassured him, rubbing circles on his back. Draco hoped that she was right.

******

The first years had huddled together on the couches instead of heading to their dorms and the prefects didn’t seem to have the heart to force them. Instead they stood near the huge fireplace speaking in low voices, their wands still out and ready.

Draco had wedged himself into the corner of the couch nearest the fireplace, attempting unsuccessfully to eavesdrop on what the prefect’s were saying so that he could add that to the letter he was mentally composing to his parents.

Hermione’s head was on Draco’s shoulder and Theo had wrapped his arms around her on the other side. Daphne and Pansy were cuddling and so were Tracey and Millie. Blaise, Vince and Greg were playing cards trying not to flinch at every sound from outside of the common room’s doors.

It was going to be a long night.

*******

The following morning, Hermione was shocked to discover that Weasley and Potter had managed to get in an altercation with the troll in the same bathroom she had run off to to cry!

The only reason that Weasley and Potter hadn’t been killed was because Ronald’s older twin brothers had followed them to see what they were up to. And somehow the parcel of Gryffindor idiots had managed to earn points for nearly getting themselves killed instead of going to their house as they were told for their own safety. The younger Slytherins were already cranky as they hadn’t slept well, huddled together on the couches as they had been, but this news definitely added to their discontent.

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. “If one of us had done such a stupid harebrained thing then...” She shuddered to think what would have happened if Theo and Pansy hadn’t found her before the troll did. She doubted she would have been praised for defending herself from a troll had she survived such an encounter.

“We’d get detention for a year,” Theo interjected, pouring Hermione a cup of tea as she stared in annoyance at the red and gold table.

“Disqualified from being a prefect for life,” Draco added, stabbing his food angrily.

“We certainly wouldn’t be awarded points,” Hermione added, grabbing herself a pumpkin pastie.

“Honestly, it's too bad the twins weren’t slightly slower,” Blaise said darkly.

“A bit bloodthirsty don’t you think Blaise,” Pansy asked, taking a petite bite of her eggs.

“Have you met my mother?” Blaise asked, raising a single eyebrow.

“Fair point,” Pansy conceded, returning to her breakfast.

“Gryffindors never face any consequences,” one of the second year witches muttered to them. “Best get used to it or you’ll spend the next seven years angry, my mum says. She said they nearly killed someone with a prank when she was here and not one even got detention.”

Hermione shook her head. Dumbledore really was the worst and most biassed Headmaster imaginable.

********

Getting teased for being Muggleborn had been a surprise to Hermione at first, but soon it became just a regular part of her day to day life. The Gryffindors were by far the worst, but whether it was because she was Muggleborn or a Slytherin she wasn't exactly sure. Potter was really the only one who didn’t say something mean to her, but he didn’t stop the others either.

Weasley had stopped insulting her where she could hear at least, but his consistently thunderous expression in class made it clear where she stood with him. She honestly didn’t care what he thought, he’d been raised in the magical world, was terrible at everything but refused to study or improve. He had to be the laziest wizard in all of creation. The entire house seemed to lack any semblance of self control. The egos the Gryffindors displayed really were the worst. She really didn’t see how they managed to be the favourites.

Potter at least tried to master his lessons, but he was constantly getting reprimanded for not completing his homework on time. Slytherins would have been wracking up the detentions if they missed so much homework. In fact, Greg had started to collect detention regularly until Hermione made sure to include him in her study group invitation every time. She figured out quickly that he was sensitive and if she didn’t actively invite him then he assumed he was excluded. Hermione also discovered that Greg found the letters on the page danced around when he tried to read so she charmed his textbooks to read to him and had him write home and ask his parents for a QuickQuotesQuill to help him with his essays.

Potter and Weasley, on the other hand, did not seem to have any excuses beyond laziness or poor time management. Hermione was so grateful that the hat hadn’t put her in Gryffindor, she would have been miserable stuck with those two. She wished that they shared fewer classes with the lions and more with the Hufflepuffs or the Ravenclaws. Hermione didn’t get to see Neville nearly enough, only in Herbology and he was still her friend, but he’d been absorbed into his house quite well. He didn’t need her as he had on the train. And Hermione rather liked to be needed.

The Headmaster was constantly reminding them of things around the castle and grounds that could kill them before meals. Hermione was not at all certain that she wanted to send her own future children to Hogwarts at this point.

This place really was blatantly mismanaged.

Something really ought to be done.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Sirius Black

Fall 1971

Sirius was ahead in all of his classes already, and he was painfully and deadly bored. He could say a lot of things about his mother’s manner of parenting, but she’d been a dedicated home teacher. There hadn’t been a single charm yet that he hadn’t already known in that class and everything in Herbology was painfully basic knowledge. They didn’t even have a poisonous plant greenhouse at Hogwarts.

Sirius couldn’t help but sneer when that came to his awareness. Bas, as Rabastan preferred to be called, was his constant companion. The LeStranges weren’t as wealthy as the Blacks, but their main estate was large. Lady LeStrange had passed away a few years ago, but she, like Sirius’ mother, was very interested in poisons and the darker potions. Growing one’s own ingredients was the best way to make things like that, after all. It attracted less attention. Sirius shuddered to think that Bella was now the lady of the manor at the LeStrange estate. Bella was unpredictable at the best of times and he wasn’t close to her like he was to Narcissa. The way she liked to remind him that his parents had an extra son had always unnerved him. Even among the Blacks, Bella’s mood swings were considered…intense.

He probably ought to get a poison detection ring next time he went to Diagon and Knockturn with his parents. Perhaps there was such a thing in the Black vault, writing to his mother and father for something like that would definitely please them and he could include a note to Regulus. Thinking of his brother made his heart hurt. Sirius missed him so much.

Bas and Sirius made a lot of jokes at the expense of the Herbology professor, a frumpy old witch, and the Divination professor, a dotty bat that Sirius was convinced was drunker than Uncle Alphard at any Black family gathering.

And when he got in trouble they threatened him with detention or took house points. No one had used a Cruciatus on him even once. Mother was certainly right about the discipline here being lacking, but Sirius didn't mind enjoying it.

*******

The thing he hated the most about Hogwarts was the bloody Gryffindors. They were constantly getting praised for doing fuck all. Every professor gave them points for bloody breathing. Sirius was quickly growing to hate them, especially because the stupid mouldering hat had offered to make him one of them.

Sirius did not regret his choice to stay in Slytherin where he was meant to be, but he couldn’t deny that he was jealous of how they were treated by everyone in the castle. The bias towards them ran deep. The quiet boy with the scars on his face still wouldn’t even look at Sirius and that made him angry too. The Potter heir had adopted the quiet one as his very best friend and that made Sirius even more angry. And he didn’t even understand why. Stupid bloody hat offering to make him part of the lions had brought on some of Sirius’ darkest intrusive thoughts. He knew better than to share them aloud. Even in Slytherin, some of Sirius’ urges would be considered too dark.

He was suspicious of the sorting hat now, in retrospect, as he was suspicious of the twinkling eyes of the Headmaster as well and wondered if he thought it would have served him to have a Black in his golden little house.

He confided this in Lucius Malfoy one evening when the older wizard invited him to play wizard chess and they spoke quietly together in the corner.

"You are right to be suspicious, the old Headmaster is always up to some machination or another. You seemed to have escaped him this time though." Lucius moved his pawn and looked over Sirius thoughtfully. “Just stay aware. My father tells me that in his day someone was expelled for causing the death of another student and he still works here as a groundskeeper.”

Sirius looked at Lucius in shock, but then his understanding crystallised. “He was a Gryffindor, wasn’t he?” Lucius’ answering smile was more of a smirk. Sirius thought he might practise it in the mirror later.

“Well reasoned, Sirius,” Lucius moved his rook. “Keep those wits about you. You’ll need them in this place.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Hermione Granger

December 1991

Hermione focused on her school work as much as she possibly could as the weeks ticked by towards winter break. She was equal parts excited to go home and tell her parents about her new friends and everything that she’d been learning and already sad about the three and a half weeks without her friends.

“Will you be going home for winter break?” Hermione asked while she was studying with the other first years in their common room. The huge fire crackled in the fireplace, chasing away the cold and damp that was always such a problem in the dungeons.

Everyone except Blaise said that they were. Blaise admitted, “My mum’s getting married again, and I’d rather not even meet him.”

“Why not?” Hermione asked, confused.

“They don’t last long,” Blaise sighed as if that explained everything and returned to his book. Hermione was confused because she could have sworn that Blaise had said his mother had just gotten married over the summer, but she didn’t ask because everyone else seemed to understand exactly what Blaise’s comment meant and she didn’t want to advertise her ignorance.

“If it wasn’t for my mum, I’d absolutely stay with you, Blaise. She’s the only thing that makes going home worth it,” Theo admitted. “Father is so strict, if he’s even home at all.”

“You’ll get to come over for the New Year’s Ball,” Draco reminded Theo encouragingly. “So we’ll see each other at least once.”

Hermione sighed. She wasn’t likely to see any of them over their holidays from school.

“Oh Hermione, mum sent me this to give to you,” Draco pulled out a silver envelope and Hermione took it reverently. She opened it carefully after popping the black wax seal with a narcissus flower pressed into the wax.

Lady Narcissa Malfoy

née Black

invites you to celebrate

the dawning of the year

of

The year

One thousand nine hundred ninety two

December 31, 1991 8 o’clock until dawn January 1, 1992

Fireworks at Midnight

Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire

A silent auction to benefit the following charities will be held:

The Slytherin Ladies Auxiliary

The Romanian Dragon Reserve

The Alberta Toothill Ladies’ Dueling Society

The Ursula Flint-Black Society for Underprivileged Magical Children’s Welfare

Please bring this invitation with you to be granted entry.

“I’m so excited!” Pansy was saying. “It’s the first year that we are old enough to go. Mum said she got me new dress robes.”

“Your mum invited me,” Hermione said quietly.

“Of course she did,” Draco stated in surprise. “She knows you’re one of my best friends.”

Hermione blushed in spite of herself not sure what to make of the fact that Draco had written to his mother about her. And then she stared at the fancy invitation again, this was going to be a really fancy party. She didn’t know anything about this kind of party among magical folk.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” Hermione murmured.

“I have extra formal robes,” Daphne started, but Draco shook his head at her.

“Mum said that she could pick you up a couple days before and take you robe shopping and if you wanted you could stay with us until it was time to come back to school. I mean I guess if your parents said it was okay.” Draco smiled reassuringly. He really hoped that Hermione would be able to come to one of the biggest events at his home.

“I’ll talk to them as soon as I get home, but how will I tell you! I can’t owl you.” Hermione frowned in annoyance.

“You can take my owl home,” Pansy offered. “She’s really small and she’ll come straight home as soon as she delivers the message to Draco’s mum.”

“What about her cage,” Hermione asked, still frowning.

“You can just bring it with you to my house.” Draco said, smiling. “See no problems at all.”

“Draco, was it your idea to include the Dragon Reserve as one of the charities?” Theo asked.

“Of course!” The blonde admitted excitedly. “If the silent auction raises enough then mum will get invited to come to the reserve to deliver the donations. She promised I can come too if that happens. Imagine meeting a real dragon!”

Theo rolled his eyes, but smiled at his best friend’s excitement, adding in a stage whisper to Hermione, “Draco really really likes dragons if you couldn’t tell.”

Hermione swallowed a giggle, she didn’t want Draco to think she was teasing him, but sometimes Theo was just so funny.

*******

She’d been really over the top with her parents about Draco’s family being Wizarding aristocracy. They had multiple plates of the Queen on the wall in the kitchen after all, along with one commemorating Prince Charles and Princess Diana’s wedding. To say that her adoptive parents were royalists would be putting it lightly. They’d been overwhelmingly excited for her to ‘hobnob with toffs’ as Mr. Granger put it at a fancy society party. Mrs. Granger had been in awe of the fancy calligraphy penmanship that was on the invitation.

“She didn’t learn to write like that at state school, did she?” Mrs. Granger had said.

“I don’t think witches go to local schools, do they Hermione? If you are born into a witching family.”

“Wizarding, dad,” Hermione corrected absently.

“A bit sexist isn’t that,” Mr. Granger had raised his eyebrow in question.

“I suppose,” Hermione conceded. “But regardless it seems like most people I’m friends with at school had a governess or their mums homeschooled them until they started Hogwarts.”

“Look at our girl sorted into the poshest house,” Mrs. Granger smiled. “Making friends like these will set you up for success, make no mistake. That’s why lads who go to Harrow and Eton do so well even if their family ends up losing their money. Friends can make all the difference. Connections.”

“Anyone have any idea who your birth parents might be?” Mr. Granger asked. “Since they’d have to be Wizardly folk.”

“Wizarding and no dad, although one of my biological parents was probably a Slytherin, it seems like House sortings run in families.” Mr. Granger made a noise, but didn’t comment further. Hermione went to bed that night completely beside herself with excitement.

The next morning Hermione had her trunk packed with Pansy’s owl cage sitting on top of it in the foyer ready to go when she heard a knock at the door.

“Oh hello Lady Malfoy,” Hermione smiled as she opened the door, curtseying a little.

“Hello Miss Granger.” The tall woman smiled. Her long blonde hair was up in an elaborate chignon and she wore high silver gloves that matched a small black and silver fascinator tilted on her head at a fashionable angle. Hermione didn’t have a lot of experience with expensive clothes, but something about Narcissa Malfoy’s Muggle dress said that it had come from Paris and was ridiculously expensive. It just had that look. It was long and black and silver, with black on black embroidery of climbing vines. “Such pretty manners, but a curtsey isn’t necessary from one of my son’s dearest friends.”

Mrs. Granger emerged from the kitchen with a dish towel in her hands and made an embarrassed squeak before tossing it backwards into the kitchen. Hermione wanted to sigh, but she restrained herself. It wasn’t her fault her parents didn’t know Pureblood etiquette, she herself was still learning.

“Mum, this is Lady Malfoy. Lady Malfoy, this is my mum, Jean Granger, well Dr. Jean Granger. She’s a Muggle healer, she specialises in teeth. Doctor is their Muggle honorific.”

Narcissa Malfoy nodded as though she knew that, and maybe she did. Maybe Draco had told her all about her parents, Hermione felt so nervous in the quiet moment that followed. It wasn’t longer than a breath, but it felt like minutes to an anxious twelve year old girl.

“Healer Granger, it’s a pleasure. Please call me Narcissa and we appreciate you allowing Hermione to attend the ball at our home. All of her school friends will be there, it would be such a shame for her to miss it.”

“Narcissa, yes oh um please call me Jean as well. My husband Richard’s just popped over to the shops and he’ll be so sorry to have missed you. We’d like to thank you as well for having Hermione over for the ball and letting her stay over until they return to school. Going to the special platform is a bit um awkward for us, so we are quite grateful. I just have one concern.”

“Mum…” Hermione could feel her ears turning pink, but her mother continued to talk despite Hermione’s obvious embarrassment.

“I understand that you only have one child - a son - and I wanted to be sure that the children wouldn’t be sharing a bedroom or anything of that sort.”

Hermione wished that the earth would open up and swallow her whole. The mortification was going to be her end.

They could make her epitaph say “Here lies Hermione Granger, her mother embarrassed her literally to death.”

Narcissa’s tinkling laughter was meant to put everyone at ease when she stated, “I understand your concern. Let me assure you that there are over fifty bedrooms in the Manor, although she will likely share a suite of rooms with one or two of the other girls who may stay with us as well until the end of the holidays. However, the rooms will be in Draco’s wing of the Manor of course. I hope that isn't an issue for you, if so I can arrange for her to stay in another wing.”

“Of course not, that all sounds perfect,” Mrs. Granger choked out. “Well glad we could put my silly little concern to rest. Hermione, be sure to write dear, even if it is with an owl. And do you have the money I gave you for the charity auction, a new dress and to get yourself an owl of your own?”

“I do mum, yes. I’ll just change it at Gringotts.”

“That’s good love, now come give me a kiss. I’m sure Lady Malfoy - Narcissa - is very busy getting ready for the big party and would like to be off. Unless you’d like a cup of tea.”

“Thank you so much for offering, but you are right there is so much to do to get ready,” Narcissa conceded. “And Hermione and I still need to go to Diagon Alley to get her a suitable dress for such a formal affair.”

Her mother just nodded in and gave Hermione one more hug, watching in shock as Lady Malfoy snapped her fingers and called, “Tippy!” A tiny house elf appeared in front of her, dressed in a silver silk pillowcase that matched Narcissa’s gloves. “Tippy please take Miss Granger’s things to the blue iris room in Master Draco’s wing.”

“Of course Mistress!” The little elf squeaked and then it and Hermione’s trunk and the owl case all disappeared without so much as a puff of smoke.

Her mother’s mouth opened and closed in surprise and Hermione realised that she probably hadn’t mentioned house elves to her.

“Well we’re off, bye mum. I’ll write and if I can I’ll send a photo.”

“I think we can arrange that,” Narcissa smiled and Hermione opened the door. “Oh that won’t be necessary. Let’s skip the walk to the apparition point shall we?” Hermione looked at her in confusion. “Do you have your purse? That’s your coat?” At her nod, Narcissa put her arm around Hermione. “Now hold tight to me and still, this feels odd the first time.” As the world flew away from her, Hermione thought that the word odd didn’t quite cover it.

*******

Hermione had insisted that they needed to go to Gringotts first, or at least attempted too.

“Nonsense Hermione,” Narcissa stated. “I’ll cover all the costs of you joining us for the gala. It’s simply not done to invite a young lady to an event like this and not ensure that she is adequately prepared for the occasion. It is of no trouble to me to treat one of Draco’s friends to a dress. I’ll put everything on my account and when we are done you can take all of the money that your mother gave you and we’ll have the Goblins open an account for you. You don't have your own vault, do you?”

“No,” Hermione admitted. “Should I have?”

“Every young woman needs her own vault. Two really. You ought to have a personal vault and a dower vault, but no matter.”

The icy Diagon Alley cobblestones were busy even a few days after Christmas, but people quickly got out of the way for Narcissa Black Malfoy, Hermione discovered. The bell rang as they entered the dress robes shop. Madam Malkin was not nearly so polite when Hermione had come there to get school robes with her mother, she was starting to understand why Draco was so snobby sometimes.

After several minutes of taking her measurements, Hermione had grown a little since August, Hermione and Narcissa were left to look at designs and textiles to make a selection for Hermione for the gala. Hermione was glad that Narcissa had offered to pay when she saw the cost of these custom bespoke formal witch’s robes. The money her parents sent wouldn’t even have come close, especially when the rush for an event happening in just a few days.

“Draco tells me that your Muggle parents adopted you,” Narcissa said as they flipped through the textile books that Madam Malkin had put in their laps.

“That’s true, ma’am.” Hermione admitted, pointing to an economically priced green swatch that was close to black. “What about this one?”

"I admire your humility my dear but that simply won't do. This is not only your first ball but also the first time you will be presented to the Wizarding World outside of Hogwarts. You must look your best and sometimes the best things come with a price. Now show me who you really want to be."

She looked back at the book and stopped to look at a swatch in emerald green that was very pretty, it was so soft too. “I like this one.”

“That is very nice,” Narcissa hummed in approval and Hermione glowed at the hint of praise. “Maybe with a silver lace overlay? Something to bring in the winter theme?” Narcissa snapped at one of the attendants pointing at the swatch and issuing some commands, in rapid fire French. The girl ran from the room to do Narcissa’s bidding and Hermione found herself wanting to have that kind of power over people. The hat had definitely not been wrong about placing her in Slytherin. She imagined herself sitting in here as an adult with younger witches rushing to do as she said, afraid of her displeasure. The image made her smile.

“And no idea who your birth parents were,” Narcissa pressed, not looking at Hermione as she ran a long manicured nail over a page filled with different shades of black.

“No. I was given over at a safe surrender site, a hospital, someone walked in and handed me over. No one could remember what they looked like after the fact. It must have been a witch or a wizard, I realise now.”

Narcissa made a noise in agreement. “So it seems. Well let's place a couple final orders and then get back to the Manor. I’m sure Draco is anxious to see you.”

Hermione grinned. She was excited to see Draco too.

*****

Malfoy Manor was huge. That was Hermione’s first impression. They floo’d directly from Madam Malkin’s and Hermione had never used a floo before, walking into the green flames was a bit disconcerting.

“Oh we forgot to go to Gringotts,” Hermione said as soon as she got her bearings.

“Oh so we did,” Narcissa agreed as she waved her wand scourgifying the ash away from both her and Hermione.

The sound of feet running in the hall caused Hermione to turn as well as a portrait yelling out, “Slow down Draco!”

But he did not for only a second later his beaming face was in the doorway. He looked so happy. She couldn’t help but smile widely back at him.

“Hermione! You’re finally here!” Draco exclaimed. “Theo’s come early as well. He’s upstairs! We’ve been waiting for you!”

*******

Hermione was so nervous as she stood sipping a glass of spiced punch, her hands covered in elegant green gloves that matched the green dress robes that she wore. Narcissa had helped her get her curls to go into an elaborate updo, and had carefully taught Hermione each of the charms, even though it would have been much quicker to just cast them but she still appreciated Narcissa carving time out of her busy day to teach her. Hermione now had a whole kit of hair potions to take back to school with her as well. She had never felt so elegant in all her life. She hoped that she didn’t make any faux pas that would embarrass her or her hosts. She liked Narcissa very much. Lord Malfoy was stiffly formal with her, but Draco reassured her that his father was like that with nearly everyone.

The party was a lavish affair. The ballroom was decorated with winter evergreens and white roses, candles floating overhead. Witches and Wizards milled about waiting for the music to begin. The fountains of sparkling Champagne and spiced ciders were flanked by ice sculptures of peacocks which apparently Lord Malfoy bred on the estate. A veritable who's who of the Wizarding World had been arriving for the last forty minutes.

A butler stood at the door announcing people as they entered.

“Lord Sirius Black, his consort Remus Lupin and their ward, Lord Harry Potter.”

“Harry Potter is here?” Hermione hissed, her face screwing up in distaste.

“His foster father is mum’s cousin,” Draco confided. “We don’t see them terribly often. Cousin Sirius and father don’t get on well sometimes, but there aren’t that many lords in Britain and snubbing him at a big event like this isn’t something mum is willing to do.”

Theo peered through the crowd. “His consort’s face is badly scarred,” he observed.

“He’s married to a man?” Hermione asked curiously. “Muggles don’t allow that.”

“Wizards don’t really either, he’s a consort, it’s not exactly the same thing as a wife or husband.”

Hermione nodded as though that made any sense at all.

Theo looked at her confusion and explained, “He’s an acknowledged romantic partner who is part of the Lord’s household. Lord Black isn’t married, so it’s considered acceptable. If he were to take a wife, her reaction to the consort would determine whether it would continue to be acceptable to society at large.”

“Wives have that much power?” Hermione was astounded.

“Lady wives in wizarding noble families?” Draco laughed. “Nothing happens in our house that mum hasn’t approved.”

As though summoned, Narcissa Malfoy appeared. “Children come with me, I’d like to introduce you to my cousin.” Her smile was wide and genuine. She was the picture of elegance in pale blue formal robes with snakes and spirals embroidered in silver along the hems. Hermione hoped that she grew up to be half as regal. Narcissa exuded a power and authority that Hermione was desperate to attain for herself.

“Narcissa, you look stunning,” Lord Black greeted, bowing deeply and taking Narcissa’s hand in his. “If you weren’t already married, I’d be tempted to try my hand.” Lupin next to him laughed as though this was a frequent joke and Harry Potter looked as though he wished that the ground would swallow him up.

“Sirius, you shameless flatterer,” Narcissa’s smile widened and her eyes twinkled. “But I’d like to formally introduce you to my son’s friends, Theodore Nott and Hermione Granger. You remember Draco of course. Children, this is my cousin, Lord Black.”

“Sirius, please. Hello Draco, look at you growing like one of your mother’s prized rose bushes,” Lord Black smiled at Draco. “Mr. Nott, Miss Granger, it’s a pleasure. This is my partner, Remus Lupin," Lord Black introduced and the scarred faced man gave them a friendly hello.

"Hello Mr. Lupin," the children replied.

"And of course you know my partner’s godson, Harry. Come to think of it, Miss Granger, Harry's mentioned you in his letters home. Highest achieving witch of your year already and a Muggleborn in Slytherin. How’s that going for you?”

“Slytherin sticks together, sir. Together we…”

“Survive,” He replied knowingly. “Good to see loyalty is still a house virtue.” Lord Black smiled. “I was a Slytherin myself at Hogwarts.”

“That’s very hard to imagine,” Hermione said honestly, looking at Potter who continued to frown angrily in his formal wear.

“And why is that?” Lord Black asked in surprise.

“Because your ward is best friends with the biggest Slytherin hater that I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.” Hermione smiled sweetly as Harry Potter glared at her.

“And who is this, Miss Granger?” Mr. Lupin asked, a frown creasing his brow.

“Why Ronald Weasley of course,” Hermione smiled as though she wasn’t sowing chaos.

“And he’s a raging blood supremacist,” Draco grinned at being able to add that. “I got in a bit of a tussle with him when he called Hermione a rather foul name in regards to her blood status on Halloween.”

“Draco!” Narcissa scolded. But the Lord Black barked out a laugh.

“Good lad,” Sirius replied, rustling Draco’s hair, at the same moment. “Harry, we'll be discussing this later.” Potter for his part looked miserable. "Well, it's been a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger. Mr. Nott, I'm sure I'll see more of you." Draco bowed along with Theo while Hermione curtseyed in response.

"Cissa, can you take me over to Lucius so I can harass him a bit?" Sirius winked at his cousin mischievously.

"Don't get him too riled up Sirius," Narcissa complained, but took Sirius's offered arm, Lupin and Potter following close behind.

"Hermione, that was very naughty," Theo smirked.

"Well, I'm not sorry," Hermione sighed. "Potter deserves some consequences for his actions. Salazar knows he won't get any at school."

Theo laughed. “Oh here comes Pansy and Daphne,” he announced as the two Slytherin girls made their way through the crowd. Hermione grinned at her friends as they approached, excited to tell them how she’d caused problems for Potter.

******

They had been taking turns dancing with one another for the last hour. Draco had danced with her first and then Theo, who’d almost made her trip, as she was giggling so much from the silly stories he was telling her about everyone around them.

Draco was currently dancing with Millicent as Greg had trampled her toes and she’d started to cry. Theo and Daphne were spinning about the floor gracefully. Hermione tried to ignore the jealousy that tasted bitter as she acknowledged how nice the two of them looked together. Pansy was dancing with an older boy named Adrian from Slytherin and looking exceptionally smitten. Greg and Vince had disappeared somewhere and she was standing on her own for a bit admiring the fashion and decor of the event.

“Granger,” a voice to her right caused her to turn. “Can I have this dance?”

“Oh Potter, acknowledging my existence now. So gentlemanly.” Hermione snorted. “And why should I dance with you?”

“Sirius said that I ought to and I want to apologise. I know Ron can be a git, but he’s my friend and my roommate. So…”

“You need better friends.” Hermione glared at him, unmoved.

“Probably, but it’s always been hard with my notoriety.” Potter shrugged.

“Must be difficult being a folk hero and all,” Hermione crossed her arms. “Not to mention Gryffindor’s golden boy.”

“Come on Granger, be fair,” Potter whined. “My House hates Slytherins. I can’t fight with them constantly.”

“You can, you choose not to. Do they even know about Lord Black?” Hermione looked at him with a sour expression on her face.

“No,” Harry muttered, staring at his feet.

“You know perhaps it isn’t me you need to apologise to at all, but Lord Black. My adopted parents may be Muggles, but I’m not ashamed of them. Maybe you should try not to be ashamed of who raised you. Excuse me.”

Hermione fled the ballroom, not sure which way she was going, just sure she wanted to get away from Potter, or she thought she might punch him and that wouldn’t do at all.

As she was walking by the study, Hermione overheard Lord Black and Lord Malfoy talking, obviously getting along perfectly well. Had Draco misunderstood when he said that the two men didn’t get along?

She tried to follow their discussion of stocks and bonds and was surprised that two Pureblood Lords knew so much about Muggle investments.

“And your old friends?” Lord Black asked. Something about the way he asked the question sent a shiver up Hermione’s spine.

“No word in years, but I know better than to hope that they are gone for good,” Lord Malfoy replied. “Last I heard most of them had settled in Russia.”

“Let’s hope they stay there,” Lord Black replied.

“Indeed.”

*******

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

November 3, 1971

Sirius’ 12th birthday

Sirius’ birthday fell on a Wednesday which was unfortunate because there would be class today and it was the first year he wasn’t in danger of being either thrashed or cursed until he wished that he was dead. He wanted to stretch his wings and enjoy himself a little. That seemed unlikely with a full day of courses ahead of him.

His parents had sent a small box with a set of cufflinks that belonged to his great grandfather, who’d also been named Sirius. He carefully replaced the plain ones he’d had on with the ones engraved with the constellation Canis Major. Instead of an engraving for the star he was named after, each cufflink was set with a bright opal that caught the light.

“Those are very nice,” Narcissa said as she scowled at the other first years who scattered away from the older Slytherin so that she could sit next to Sirius on the bench.

“They’re from mother and father.” Sirius said with a nod. There hadn’t been a note. The package had just been sealed with his father’s signet. Who else could such a gift have come from anyway? He wished that they had at least included a note from Reggie. Sirius missed his brother and hoped that Reg was keeping out of their mother’s way as much as possible in his absence. She was unpredictable at the best of times.

“Well, it’s not nearly as dear, but I’ve gotten you a gift,” she smiled, pushing two small packages his way.

The package opened to reveal a small antique book entitled “Horrible and Deadly Beasts of Hogwarts and the Surrounding Woodlands.” He looked at her questioningly.

“It’s always good to be informed. You never want something to get the drop on you,” Narcissa offered. “The section on the Forbidden Forest is filled with many cautionary tales so that you never ever go there.”

The second package was a packet of fizzing whizbees, orange sherbet flavoured. “These are my favourite candy. I wanted to gift some of them to you,” Narcissa shared. “Everyone eats lemon drops or chocolates, but you are a young man of discernment. These are my favourites so they are obviously the best.”

Sirius laughed and smiled at his favourite cousin. “You truly are the best of cousins, you know that right?”

“It's hardly a stiff competition, between Bella or I?” Narcissa laughed lightly belying the fact that Bellatrix made every younger member of the House of Black uneasy. And they all ignored the existence of Andromeda, cast out and disowned. “But speaking of whom, she sent a package to me to pass onto you.”

Sirius nervously opened the small box and found a little note and a ring with a circular black cabochon. He didn’t think she’d send him a cursed ring at school, so he took it out and carefully slid it onto his pinky finger. He did like rings. Someday he imagined wearing them on every finger.

He unfolded the note and read.

Dearest cousin Sirius,

This ring has been in our family for years and you never know when you might need such a thing. There’s a compartment in it that can hold….something. Rodolphus informed me I could not send it to you prepared, but you are a bright boy and heir I have faith you will source your own.

Your affectionate cousin,

Bellatrix Black Lestrange

A poison ring. Lovely. Sirius sighed. Maybe something was wrong with him because he wasn’t excited about such a gift at all. He was a terrible excuse for a Black heir.

“Bella just gets people things she would like,” Narcissa said softly into his ear as she rose from her seat. “Mother tried to break her of the habit, but I fear it is a lost cause.” Sirius laughed and earned himself a smile from his cousin.

Lucius looked down the table at the commotion as the other students watched Sirius open his gifts. Then he rose with a small but long box in hand.

“What did you give Sirius, love?” Lucius asked Narcissa giving her a fond smile, and gently touching her shoulder briefly with his knuckle.

“Some sweets and a book,” Narcissa admitted, speaking intentionally loud enough that people could hear her. “And I passed on a gift from Lady Lestrange. Some family jewellery.” Sirius flashed Lucius the ring on his pinky and Lucius nodded at it knowingly. Eyes widened around the Slytherin table at the mention of Bella’s married name and Sirius allowed himself to enjoy the awe that he was earning.

“A small gift,” Lucius said, offering Sirius the box. Sirius carefully untied the silver ribbon on the box revealing a white peacock feather quill. Sirius lifted it from the box carefully eliciting oohs and ahhs from the rest of the Slytherin table. “The feather came from peacocks at Malfoy Manor. The quill is charmed so that if anyone tries to steal it, it will scream worse than a caterwauling charm until you have it back again.” Sirius was bright enough to know what else such a gift signalled to others: Sirius was Lucius Malfoy’s protegee and to mess with him was to mess with the Malfoy Heir. Lucius’ reputation was already fearsome.

“Thank you Lucius,” Sirius said, sincerely, grateful for the mentorship of the older boy.

“Of course Sirius. I hope your birthday is a happy one.” Lucius took Narcissa’s hand. “My love, I believe it is time to escort you to class.” Narcissa blushed prettily and took Lucius’ offered arm. Sirius suspected that she had an hour or more before class, but it was none of his business.

Bas quietly shoved a thin box Sirius’ way and he was pleased to find an angora scarf in green and black with a beautiful snake motif. “It’s beautiful, Bas, thank you.” Sirius ran his hands over the soft weave and tossed it around his shoulders.

“My grandmere made it for you. She’s very pleased that we’ve become such good friends.” Bas smiled. “I am pleased too. I was wanting to go to Durmstrang like Rodolphus had done, but being here with you has been very good.”

“Thanks Bas, I’d be missing my brother much worse if it wasn’t for you.” Sirius shared a smile with his best friend.

A huge owl swooped down and dropped another package onto the table in front of him, and Sirius immediately recognized the writing.

“Oh, it's from Uncle Alphard!” Sirius cried out in excitement, forgetting himself for a second.

The small box was wrapped carefully. He unfolded the inclosed note, reading silently.

Happy Birthday Sirius!

I hope it's your best birthday yet.

Please find enclosed an enchanted compass that instead of leading you north, it leads you where you truly want to go or to what you need.

I know this is a powerful magical object and you may be a little young for such a thing, but keep it safe.

Your favourite uncle,

Alphard Black.

Sirius felt strangely possessive of the golden compass and quickly closed the lid before even Bas could get a good look at it. He put it into his robe pocket with a sticking charm for good measure. He carefully vanished the wrapping paper, surprising the older students with an advanced charm, and tidied up his various gifts, closing boxes and stacking them with delicacy.

"I think I'll run all this back to the dormitory before our first class," Sirius said to Bas, who nodded returning to the breakfast that he'd been ignoring in favour of watching Sirius.

"Take a muffin or pasty, Sirius," Bas advised. "You'll get cross if you only eat those sweets from Narcissa."

Sirius grinned and grabbed a pumpkin pasty as he left, tucking it into the pocket that did not hold his new compass.

Snape sneered at him as he walked by, but Sirius didn't even bother reacting to the jealous little half blood in his secondhand robes.

*******

Spending his birthday in classes had been dreary at best, even if Professor Flitwick had forced the class to sing him a birthday song before the class started. The look of distaste on the Gryffindor’s faces as well as Snape’s was a bright light in an otherwise dull class where Sirius already knew every charm that was being taught. He'd spent part of the class flipping through the book from Narcissa, marvelling at the acromantulas, centaurs and other beasts that were only a stone's throw from the school.

Sirius had a couple of hours free before dinner, but Bas had other obligations, writing to his mother or some such. So Sirius decided to try out the compass for the first time. He wasn't sure why he wanted to hide the magical object from even his best friend at Hogwarts, but Sirius preferred to trust his instincts; even when they got him into trouble.

Sirius slipped out the front doors of the castle, taking the path towards the Black Lake that the needle of the compass pointed to. He hoped it wasn't sending him into the Forbidden Forest.

He followed the curve of the path through the trees as it went around the Black Lake, surprised when he realised he wasn't alone.

The boy who barely spoke was there in front of Sirius, skipping stones across the Black Lake. Sirius froze where he stood, the charmed compass in his hands pointed directly at the scarred boy as though he was the thing that Sirius most needed to find. The boy's threadbare robes were tossed over a rock, and the light shone on his sandy hair.

What absolute rubbish, Sirius thought, shoving the compass into his pocket. And ignoring the way that he wanted to walk up to the boy and demand that he teach him how to skip stones across the water like that. Instead, Sirius turned and walked back towards the castle.

The boy at the lakeside turned and watched him go, but Sirius never looked back to find those deep honey golden eyes watching him as he went.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

Winter Holidays at Malfoy Manor

December 1991

After eavesdropping on Lords Black and Malfoy, Hermione tried to return to the ballroom unobtrusively, but failed because Draco and Theo were lying in wait for her.

"Hermione! Where did you go?"

“We were looking everywhere for you!”

“Oh, I got into an argument with Potter when I declined his invitation to dance, so I went to the loo and to get some air,” Hermione laughed nervously, chewing on her lip. “Then I got a bit turned around, but I just followed the music until I got back.”

Her excuse sounded inadequate to her own ears, but the fact that she'd rejected Harry Potter was the point that the boys grasped onto.

Draco laughed his face immediately, all smiles and Theo took her arm, grinning.

"Well you certainly owe me a dance now Hermione, I want to hear all about it." Theo grinned. “No wonder Potter looks like he’s in a mood, he is such a prat.”

And Hermione let Theo twirl her onto the floor. He really was a good dancer. Soon her face hurt from smiling as she laughed at all of Theo’s jokes. He passed her to Draco, who didn’t make her laugh as hard, but was just as good a dancer.

Daphne and Pansy giggled together as they watched all the guests and when Hermione joined them, after Theo had to dance with one of his great aunts, Hermione was immediately folded into the conversation.

“My sister is so jealous that she couldn’t come tonight,” Daphne laughed. “She’s not going to even be at Hogwarts for two more years.”

“But she has the worst crush on Draco already,” Pansy pointed out, unaware of how Hermione’s smile immediately disappeared off her face. “She’s seen him, what, twice?”

“Four times as she’d be quick to tell you,” Daphne laughed. “Hermione, you have no idea how I envy you being an only child, my sister is the worst.”

“Astoria is merely annoying, Ranunculus is a pig. I live in fear of our father dying before I marry, I swear.” Pansy waved her hand. “But enough of our horrid siblings lest we conjure them. Let’s go peruse the dessert table and see if we can get a glass of real champagne to split between the three of us.”

Hermione agreed willingly and found herself led along by the other two Slytherin girls.

******

By the time that the party was done, Hermione was dead on her feet and Narcissa had to help her find her room. A house elf was summoned to help her change for bed, but Hermione didn't even remember changing when she awoke late the following day.

She knew that it was late morning from the way the light came in through her window and Hermione could hear Daphne and Pansy laughing from somewhere nearby.

Hermione stood and dressed in something simple, but couldn’t find any of her Muggle clothes in her room and threw on a simple but elegant day robe that was at hand, going in search of Pansy and Daphne.

The terrace was awash with glowing runes that kept the area warm.

“Astoria expected that there would be an exception made for her,” Daphne snorted, waving the angry missive she’d received from her sister that morning as she and Pansy shared brunch on the terrace that connected their three bedrooms. “Oh good morning Hermione!” Daphne turned and smiled.

“The elves brought us so much food, I’m glad you woke up! There’s no possibility we could eat this alone and you never want to offend your house elves.”

“Especially not the ones that cook for you,” Daphne added, solemnly.

“What would they do?” Hermione asked seriously, sitting down and pouring herself a juice from a venetian glass pitcher into a goblet that was probably older than the section of London she lived in with her parents.

“Cry into your food so much that everything was salty for weeks,” Pansy suggested, her face wrinkled in distaste.

“Be so devastated that they can barely cook at all?” Daphne added. “Once my mother didn’t finish a cake that the elves knew was her favourite and everything was burned for weeks because our lead kitchen elf thought they’d failed with the recipe and she was inconsolable. I’m not exaggerating. I could hear her sobbing from my wing at all hours of the night.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, she’d known that elves made all the food at Hogwarts and so she supposed that they must do the same at Pureblood manors and homes, but that the creatures were so emotional about their work had never occurred to her.

“Do you think the elves at Hogwarts are the same way?” Hermione asked without meaning to let the question out.

“No, there are far too many of us, but the Hufflepuffs are in the kitchen regularly complimenting their cooking and praising them generally. That’s why they always have the best food at their table.”

Pansy nodded. “But being the favourites of elves is a double edged sword. Elvish logic and human logic are not the same. Elves will go to extreme lengths if they believe it’s warranted.”

“Like what?” Hermione asked, unbearably curious about the whole topic.

“Well, elves have been known to injure people, sometimes quite severely, to prevent them from dangerous situations that might result in them getting killed. There was a Lord Parkinson during the War of the Roses whose house elf dropped a large stone from the castle parapet and crushed his leg, rendering him incapable of riding a horse for weeks while it was healed. They didn’t have skelegro yet.” Pansy nibbled elegantly on a caramel almond pastry as she shared the story, and Hermione struggled to imagine elves doing such a thing.

Elves were capable of intentionally injuring people, Hermione felt her understanding of the magical world and its hierarchies once again being turned on its head. She’d thought that elves were harmless if powerful servants, but it seemed that she had made some assumptions.

*******

Hermione had left the girls behind in order to play in the snow in the Manor gardens for a little while alone. Pansy and Daphne had been hotly debating whether cool or warm colours looked best on their skin tones, not the kind of conversation she had any input in.

She hoped she would run into the boys, she hadn’t seen them all day and thought she had heard them on their brooms. She kept going along the paths until she reached the stables and the doors were wide open to where the Abraxans were kept.

Hermione had seen the huge winged horses in her Care of Magical Creatures textbook, but she’d never thought she’d see the huge beasts this close. The elves working in the stable cast an air freshening spell, because the troughs of single malt whiskey that the horses drank was strong in that large quantity.

Steam emitted from the horses nostrils and they stomped their hooves as they looked at her over their paddock doors. Their wings were folded tight into their backs, but each stall looked big enough for the Abraxans to stretch their wings if they needed to.

She stood there for a long time taking in the scene, watching the elves go about their tasks and the Abraxans watched her with as much interest as she watched them.

“Aren’t they splendid?” Draco’s voice came from behind her. “My grandfather bred them and while father isn’t as passionate about them as he was, we continue to keep them.”

“Do you want to ride one, Hermione?” Theo asked, looking up at the big winged horses in wide eyed wonder. “Draco’s promised that we can.”

“Absolutely not,” Hermione declared, shaking her head emphatically. “My feet stay on the ground.”

“Aww, come on Hermione, it will be fun!” Draco cajoled.

“No thank you,” Hermione crossed her arms and scowled at her friend, who gave her his best pouting expression.

One of the elves stepped forward, twisting at the little brown smock he wore. “Pardons me, young master Malfoy, but Mistress gave very strict instructions that young master Malfoy and his friends can't ride the ‘Braxans unless Mistress or Master are around. I is very sorry.”

Draco sighed, but smiled reassuringly at the elf. “It’s alright, Ferdy. I’ll just ask my parents to come down another day.”

The elf looked relieved to not be asked to disobey one of his masters by another.

“Well if that’s off the table, Hermione, how about you show us what Muggles do in the snow?” Theo asked, seemingly very content to have a change of activities.

“Have either of you ever had a snowball fight?” Hermione asked with a wicked grin.

They hadn't ever and Hermione had fun initiating both of them. By the time that they were finished the were wet and their cheeks pink from the cold and their hysterical giggles.

Hermione thought it might be one of the best days of her life.

********

She was used to the magical portraits at Hogwarts, but being in a friend’s home with all his ancestors on the wall was a different thing altogether. She’d met the grandfather who bred the Abraxans and as well as his father.

Currently Hermione was on the hunt for the Hall of Aunts. Draco had mentioned that they were the worst sort of gossips. If anyone was likely to tell her who her birth parents might be, those portraits seemed like a good place to start.

“I'm Hermione Granger. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“And how did you find us? We’re hardly in the main part of the house.”

“Well Lady Malfoy suggested that if anyone could answer my questions that it would be one of you.”

“Well get on with your asking girl,” a witch with a huge powdered wig and a very small hat to the right commanded.

“So I was wondering,” Hermione said after introducing herself to the magical portraits before her. “Do I look like anyone you know? I was adopted and am curious about my birth parents.”

“There’s a number of families that have had hair like that,” one to the left muttered. “And more than likely do and cover it up with potions and charms. Curls weren’t in fashion in my day.”

“And what day was that, Eunice?” another portrait called. “The fourteen hundreds?”

“The nineteen fifties if you must know,” the portrait sniffed. “Only Phyllida Lestrange had curls like yours but she was born a Meadows.”

Another portrait suggested the McKinnons, and another the Princes, yet another said she looked like Bellatrix Black when she was young, and another suggested the Potters, which caused Hermione to blanch; she certainly hoped that wasn't the case. The Parkinsons and the Crouches were also suggested as families who favoured dark hair and dark eyes. The Malfoys and the Rosiers were the only ones the portraits were certain that she was not a member of as both families were notorious for pale blonde hair in their children regardless of what family they married into. Most of the portraits were unfortunately from long before Hermione had been born, so they would have been contemporaries of her grandparents, great grandparents or even older.

In the end, Hermione was left with far more questions than answers.

*********

Narcissa knocked quietly at the door of Hermione’s room as she tried to decide what to wear that day, a tray with a variety of treats and tea well picked over sat next to her bed.

“Come in,” she called.

“Hermione darling. We have received an invitation to take tea with Lord Black and his family today.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, trying to swallow her disappointment. “Well you and Draco have a lovely time.”

“Hermione, you were included in the invitation too. You can wear that Muggle party dress if you like. Lord Black's home is much less formal than here and it will only be family.”

Hermione wasn't family so she was confused at being included, but she was good naturedly prepared to go. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail and added the matching bow her mother had bought to go with her sparkly Muggle holiday dress.

Hermione met Draco and Narcissa down in the floo parlour.

“What’s Theo going to do while you are gone?” Hermione whispered, she knew Daphne and Pansy could entertain one another just fine.

“He’s still asleep,” Draco whispered back. “I left him a note and told the elves to let him rest.”

“Alright children,” Narcissa declared. “Are we ready to go?”

Draco and Hermione nodded in assent.

“Number 12 Grimmauld Place,” Narcissa called at the Floo. Before taking both children’s hands and stepping through.

“Oh it’s you,” Harry Potter scowled at them when they appeared through the green flames in the magnificent black carved fireplace. And Hermione immediately wanted to step backwards and return to the far more welcoming Malfoy Manor.

“Hello, Narcissa, Draco, Hermione,” said Lord Black from behind him and Potter’s ears turned very pink. “You’ll excuse us for just a second while I speak with Harry?”

Narcissa nodded and waved her hand dismissively as if it was no matter.

“What did I tell you, Harry?” Sirius Black whispered when he pulled the boy aside, Hermione strained her ears to listen.

“To be polite to our guests,” Potter muttered.

“Are you in fact being polite to our guests?” The man looked into the boy’s eyes meaningfully.

“No, Sirius.”

“That’s what I thought. You, Draco and Hermione may not get on at school because of house politics, but we are at home and they are our guests.”

“I’ll do better,” Harry responded, staring at his shoes.

“Quite.” Lord Black turned from the boy and greeted his guests warmly, hand kisses for Narcissa and Hermione and a bow for Draco that caused Hermione to cover her mouth to hide the giggles that threatened to escape.

Like Malfoy Manor, Number 12 Grimmauld Place exuded wealth. The panels were dark wood and lush velvet draperies hung everywhere. Hermione could tell that the little bric-a-brac that sat around were likely priceless magical heirlooms.

The front of the house Hermione learned faced a busy Muggle street so all the windows had been bricked up years ago, but gorgeous blue light came through a number of stained glass windows toward the rear of the house that Lord Black had apparently designed personally when he inherited the house. The furniture was all antique but clearly well cared for by the ancient elf that popped in with the tea. Hermione found herself fascinated that the carved wooden feet on one of the settees looked like crocodile feet rather than table legs. She’d never seen anything like it. Magical homes really were spectacular.

Tea wasn't awkward despite Potter's behaviour upon their arrival. Narcissa and Lord Black kept up a steady conversation about people they both knew, their own days at Hogwarts and occasionally the three young people in the room. Hermione preened everytime that Narcissa bragged about her scores at Hogwarts. It felt rather nice.

Mr. Lupin sipped his tea and added comments here and there especially about people who had been in Gryffindor during the 70s.

“It's a pleasure to have more Slytherins in the house,” Lord Black stated with a smile. “When Harry is at home now the lions have me outnumbered.”

Hermione looked at Draco in dismay, she would hate to be surrounded by Gryffindors. His matching expression indicated that he agreed.

“Draco, I hear that you are quite the budding potioneer, would you like to visit my greenhouse and brewing lab?” Lord Black asked. And just as Hermione was starting to feel excluded, he turned to her and added,” You are welcome to join us of course Miss Granger, but I thought you might like to visit the Black family library. It’s the second largest in Wizarding Britain.”

Hermione certainly wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity like that.

*******

The room itself seemed much larger than the outside dimensions would have allowed and Hermione wondered if that was the result of a spell. She began combing the shelves wondering if there was such a thing as a family lineage spell. She pulled a book off the shelf and began flipping through it with interest. She wished she’d brought a notebook so she could transcribe some of this undoubtedly priceless knowledge.

“Miss Granger,” a voice drawled from behind her, she shut the book she'd been reading with a bang and looked up into the scarred face of Lord Black's Consort, Mr Lupin.

“Oh I'm so sorry sir, Lord Black said I could look in the library and I couldn't help myself…” Hermione trailed off, embarrassment clogging her throat.

“It's fine Miss Granger,” Mr Lupin laughed. “All the books were cleared by curse breakers years ago. It's quite safe to peruse the volumes. I imagine the temptation would be quite unbearable for as studious a young witch as I hear that you are.”

He sat down in one of the chairs, crossing his leg and summoning a cup of tea from a tray that Hermione had not even noticed.

“In fact, when I first came to live here, Sirius had to pry me out of this library to eat. I grew up in a more Muggle household, my father was a wizard, but we lived in my mother's family home when I was young.”

“I didn't know that,” Hermione said.

“I'm not ashamed of my upbringing, but my parents and I are …estranged so it rarely comes up.”

Hermione nodded. “My adoptive parents are very nice Muggles and they do want what's best for me. But I do feel that it's hard for them to understand our world.”

“It was very hard for my mother as well. Especially after all this.” Mr. Lupin waved at the scars on his face. “Narcissa mentioned that you were adopted and had no idea of your birth family?”

“No, none. I was dropped off at a hospital very shortly after my birth and no one ever came looking for me.” Hermione shrugged, as though her abandonment after her birth didn’t cause her any suffering.

“When were you born?” Mr Lupin asked, looking at her in interest.

“September 1979,” Hermione offered, wondering why it was important.

“The fighting was very heavy at that time, there was a war and it was very fierce. People were disappearing or dying all the time,” he said thoughtfully. “Your birth parents likely saved your life by taking you to that Muggle hospital.”

Hermione bit her lip, Mr. Lupin’s suggestion was quickly followed by the awareness that it was very likely that her birth parents were no longer living. That hurt much more than she thought it would. She wondered why it was less painful to think they hadn’t wanted her, rather than that they hadn’t lived to come back for her.

“Remus?” Potter’s voice called as he entered the library. “Are you here? I need to talk to you about…”

Potter froze as he saw Hermione and Mr. Lupin standing close to each other.

“Oh,” he gasped looking between the two of them, his face turning bright red with clear upset, and fled the room.

“You'll have to excuse me, Hermione,” Mr. Lupin said as he quickly followed Harry out of the room.

Hermione shook her head at Potter's melodramatic tendencies and returned to looking through the books.

******

“And there must have been hundreds of books there,” Hermione gushed as they returned to Malfoy Manor.

“Our library is much larger,” Draco said in annoyance, as his mother excused herself to her rooms to freshen up before dinner.

“Is it?” Hermione asked with wide-eyes.

“It is,” Draco proclaimed, his grey eyes flashing. “Remember when Lord Black said he had the second biggest library? That’s because we have the first. Here, let me show you,” he grabbed her hand and dragged her through the house until they came to the massive doors that he pushed open and revealed the Malfoy’s family library. Hermione stared at the huge room in wide-eyed wonder. It was something out of a fairytale.

Hermione stepped past Draco onto the white tile and looked around at the glowing white and golden room. There must have been thousands of books. She looked upward and saw there was a mezzanine with even more shelves above her.

Hermione was so ecstatic that she spun back around to Draco, pulling him into a tight hug and kissing his cheek. She let him go, but immediately wanted to hug him again.

This was the best day ever.

“Why didn't you show me the library before?" Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged. "Because I knew that you'd never leave here and I wanted to do other things with you.”

Hermione wanted to be annoyed with him, but knew he was probably right. She smacked him in the arm anyway, but then ruined it by grinning at him. He smiled back.

*****

“Well it has to be one of the three of us,” Pansy was saying as Hermione entered the sitting room that the young witches had taken over. “Lord and Lady Malfoy haven’t put out any word about marital contracts yet, but they are obviously thinking about it.”

“I mean it could be Hermione,” Daphne suggested, not noticing that the other girl had entered behind where they were sitting. “Narcissa did take her to a family tea today.”

Pansy shrugged. “It’s possible. The Malfoys hardly need the doweries that you or I would come with; it could be that Lord Black wants to set up a contract between Potter and Hermione? They would be an awful match.” Pansy sighed. “I think the Malfoys are weighing their options, but they obviously haven’t solidified their decision or all three of us would not be here. My mother would certainly like me to be the next Lady Malfoy. She made that quite clear.”

Daphne made a noise of agreement and Hermione felt her stomach turn to lead and all her joy from the libraries and tea turn to ash in her mouth. She turned and fled, her eyes burning.

She didn’t stop until she was deep in the garden and threw herself over one of the stone benches.

Theo found her after she’d cried herself out, not even certain why she was crying, and had dropped onto the small lawn. She stared dry eyed up at the sky until he came into view.

“What's wrong?” He asked, looking down at her with his observant blue gaze, his head tilted and his lips turned down in a frown.

“The girls were talking about who Draco would marry.”

“Oh.” Theo looked at her confusion written on her face. “And that upset you?”

“Muggles don't talk about that sort of thing.” Hermione said, pulling grass with her hands and shredding it as she looked up at Theo’s pensive face.

He sighed. “Hermione, by the time we finish Hogwarts almost everyone in Slytherin will be either married or engaged.”

“Really?” She hated the way her voice squeaked.

“Truly. And nearly all the Purebloods in the other houses as well.”

“Oh.” Hermione was at a loss for words. She was only twelve, her friends were mostly eleven. How were they supposed to be ready for marriage in only six short years? She pulled her knees into her chest and stared off into the distance. She didn’t like the way that the thought of Draco marrying someone else made her feel. She stole a glance at Theo and the thought of him married to someone else also made her want to be sick.

“Pansy thinks Lord Black wants to match me with Potter, at least that's what she said. And I'm too young and I don't want to marry him. He’s awful.” Hermione knew she was panicking but she couldn't seem to calm down.

“Hermione, if you don't want to marry him, just tell your parents not to sign the paperwork if Lord Black offers a contract.”

“Is it that easy?” Hermione asked, eyes brightening and Theo nodded. “Do you have a marriage contract, Theo?”

“No, not yet,” Theo replied.

She didn’t answer, his yet hung in the air like an executioner’s blade.

Theo sat down next to her and just let her think.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Winter Hols 1971

Sirius was screaming. He didn’t even remember what he’d done wrong, but as the cruciatus wracked his body with such unimaginable pain he knew it had been something bad. His mother’s face was lit by the spellwork and was a mask of fury. His father continued eating as though none of this was happening, as though his son wasn’t shaking from the spell cast by his own wife.

Reggie watched him silently with tears running down his face. His throat felt raw, but his screams continued.

His knees were going to give out on him, and he fought it as long as he could. He knew if he fell to the floor the punishment would be much worse, but in the end his legs gave out.

Mercifully the world went black shortly after that.

****

Sirius wasn’t in his house, he wasn’t in any house. He lay in the grass looking up into the foliage of huge trees. He could hear water running somewhere nearby. Everything hurt so much that he couldn’t sit up.

Suddenly the scarred boy from Hogwarts was staring down into his face. His eyes were such an unnerving shade of golden, Sirius thought.

“What are you doing here?” The other boy asked in a thick Welsh accent.

Sirius had never heard him speak before and blinked up at him in confusion.

“You look like shite. Are you alright then?” The other boy asked. “Have you died, is that why you're in my dream to say goodbye?”

Sirius opened his mouth to tell him that he would never, but the world faded to mist and then blackness.

****

When Sirius woke up, Reggie was sitting next to him with a frightened look.

“Oh thank the stars, Siri,” Reggie whispered, knowing better than to be loud in Grimmauld Place. “I was so frightened.”

“How long did I sleep?” Sirius’ voice sounded raspy to his ears.

“Two whole days,” Reggie whispered, the worry and sleeplessness showing on his face.

“Argh,” Sirius tried to sit up, but his vision was blurry and Reggie pushed him back into the bed.

“Don’t. You need to rest. The rest of the family are coming tomorrow for dinner and if you aren’t better I don’t know what she’ll do.”

“When did you get so smart?” Sirius mumbled, trying to stay awake.

“Had to, you haven’t been here to take care of me,” Reggie said matter of factly, bringing a cup of tea to Sirius’ chapped lips. The guilt lanced through him like a knife, but Reggie just shook his pretty curls, still past his ears. “Don’t start. You’ve been at school, doing well. I’ll be there next year too. And then we’ll only see her on holidays. And if you keep up that connection with Malfoy, then we could get invited there in the summer. He’s pure enough for mother. She likes him.”

“Was Lucius here?”

“Yes, he called on you. He was taking his sister to the Wizarding Hall in the Muggle’s British Museum. His ancestor has a large portrait there and she wanted to see it. Mother told him you were poorly. He took tea with her, I sat with the sister, Pandora was her name.”

“Didn’t even know he had a sister.” Sirius coughed, tremors from the prolonged cruciatus wracking his body.

“Well she’s not out yet. She said her father doesn’t really want to send her to Hogwarts.” Reggie looked aghast at that, and Sirius knew his face looked the same. Imagine if their mother decided to keep Reggie at home. No, some things could not even be thought of lest they be summoned into being.

“Did you like her?” Sirius asked, eager to distract himself from the lingering pain. “What was she like?”

“Pretty, petite and blonde as a Malfoy ought to be.” Reggie shrugged. “I liked her well enough. She likes to read like me. She’s the first witch that I’ve ever met that we aren’t related to.”

Grimmauld Place was Reggie’s prison as it had once been Sirius’. Walburga never went out, so the children never went out. Its darkened rooms were the only world that Sirius had known until Hogwarts.

Sirius nodded. “Can you have Kreacher bring me some toast?”

“You can call him,” Reggie pointed out.

“He likes you better and I want the good marmalade,” Sirius whispered, closing his eyes and letting himself fall asleep again.

This time he didn't dream of a scarred boy with eyes the colour of amber.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

Spring 1992

Nothing further had been said about marriages for the rest of winter holidays and Hermione was very grateful.

Narcissa returned all the children back to Platform 9 ¾ with the assistance of several house elves and waved them off with a smile and a small hug for Draco.

The rest of first year went about how Hermione expected it to. She earned points as often as possible, but some of the professors clearly disliked Slytherins. Her eagerness for knowledge was met with nothing but suspicion in those quarters.

The Purebloods in other houses were always up to something where she was concerned. The other Slytherins watched out for her, especially Draco and Theo, but they seemed to think she was unaware of how much time they spent keeping her safe, blocking this hex or that, charming her things so they couldn’t be stolen. She was however very much aware, she felt a mix of guilt and gratitude that they were always at her side and shielding her from others.

The Gryffindors were by far the worst, but whether it was because she was supposedly a Muggleborn or a Slytherin she wasn't exactly sure. Regardless of which it was, they were highly likely to hex her at any opportunity. She really wasn't looking forward to spending another six years watching her back like this.

She was losing a lot of respect for the Headmaster. Her old school would never have tolerated this sort of bullying. Maybe she should talk with Lord Malfoy about it, he was on the Board of Governors after all.

Potter had continued to enable his best friend’s nonsense since they'd returned from winter holidays, not that any of the Slytherins had made any overtures to be pleasant to him since the return to Hogwarts. It was as though the ball and family tea had never happened.

******

“And what was the goal in following Potter and Weasley out to the groundskeeper's hut?” Hermione bit out in anger, glaring at Draco. He had made it his personal mission to prove that the Gryffindors were trouble, which he did, at the cost of getting in trouble himself and making them lose points.

“They had a dragon!” Draco glared back. “Do you have any idea how dangerous even a baby dragon can be?”

With a roll of her eyes, Hermione chastised him, “They would have gotten caught at some point, no way even the groundskeeper could have kept a dragon a secret for long. But was it worth it to get yourself in trouble, too? You should have just left them alone Draco, they’re not worth it.”

Draco hung his head in shame. “I know, I learned my lesson and I’m sorry. As punishment they have given me detention in the Forbidden Forest.”

Hermione could feel her heart on the edge of exploding in her chest. Dumbledore never stopped talking about how dangerous the forest was.

Draco attempted to pretend he was brave, but Hermione could tell that it was fake. How could he possibly not be afraid?

The moment that he left she ran to the owlery and sent a note to Narcissa, she didn't even care if Draco got mad at her for involving his mother.

*******

Stupid Bloody Potter. Stupid Weasley. Stupid Hagrid.

If they got him killed out here, he hoped that his mother cursed their bloodlines for a thousand years. She was a Black after all. She had to know how to do something like that.

Searching for an injured unicorn in the dead of night was hardly something that first years should be doing. Draco was still shocked that the idiot of a groundskeeper had split them up.

Out here with bloody Potter who still acted as though they weren’t family by any measure and the oaf's huge dog.

“More unicorn blood here,” Draco pointed out as the trail led into a tighter copse of younger trees.

He wasn’t prepared for what they saw next. The unicorn was dead, at least he hoped so, because something was feeding on it. The slurping sound was obscene.

Draco thought he was going to vomit. He grabbed Potter’s shoulder and hissed. “We have to get out of here.” Potter shook his arm off and refused to come.

Well it was his funeral, but Draco certainly wasn't going to die here tonight. Images of Hermione and Theo crying flitted before his eyes and he turned and ran, the dog already disappearing into the woods ahead of him. Even in his panic he mused how the dog was smarter than its owner.

*******

Despite her harsh words earlier, Hermione gave him a hug when Draco came back safe. She searched his face when he told her he was fine as though she sensed the lie. She didn't push him though and he was grateful for that. He didn’t have the energy to lie to her.

When he went to bed, Theo was asleep in his bed, waiting for him. Draco carefully changed and then crawled in with him. Draco held Theo tightly, grateful for such a good best friend.

********

Aurors were in the castle the following morning, along with Lord Black, Lord and Lady Malfoy. Hermione watched them from where she sat in the Great Hall and was a little terrified that her note had stirred up such trouble.

Theo turned to her and whispered, “Did you do something? Because if you didn't, you need to fix your facial expression post haste.”

Quickly Hermione schooled her expression, closing her mouth. She looked down at her hands, and then chewed her lip as she met Theo’s eyes. “Is that better?”

“Not really, but it will have to do.” Theo smiled at her reassuringly. “You look cute though.” Hermione blushed at his words, and hoped that made her look less suspicious.

There were a series of intense conversations between adults within the boundaries of a privacy spell. The students all tried to pretend to not be painfully curious, but it was a lost cause. After nearly a full day of Aurors in the Forbidden Forest and Draco and Potter being missing, things finally seemed to be coming to some sort of a conclusion.

Hagrid was taken for questioning at the Ministry, leaving Hogwarts without a groundskeeper and Dumbledore was facing censure.

Narcissa left along with Lord Black before dinner, Hermione hadn’t spoken with her at all, but Draco mentioned in passing that she’d sent her regards to everyone. He looked exhausted and she was more than a little worried.

Hermione was grateful that the school year only had a few weeks left to go.

*******

Finally, it was the end of the year and the Great Hall was decorated in Slytherin Green, Hermione had never been so proud to be a member of her house.

“Yes, yes well done Slytherin, well done Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account, and I have a few last minute points to award,” the Headmaster began.

“Oh here it comes,” one of the third years murmured.

“Here what comes?” Hermione asked, in panicked tones.

“Dumbledore is about to steal the House Cup just watch,” another fourth year wizard muttered.

“To Miss Patil, for the cool use of intellect when others were in great peril, 50 points.” Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes made Hermione positively murderous. He was enjoying this.

“Second to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best played game of chess that Hogwarts has seen these many years, 50 points.”

“Must have been a bloody good game of chess,” Blaise sneered, his hands clenched into fists on the table, manners forgotten.

“And third to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor House 60 points.”

Potter’s smug smile and excitement was enough to make Hermione want to hex him.

Looking at the points hourglasses, Hermione gasped in horror, “They're tied with us!”

“And finally, because it takes a great deal of courage to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends, I award 10 points to Mr. Dean Thomas.”

“Assuming that my calculations are correct, I believe a change in decoration is in order.” With a flick of his wand all the banners transformed from Slytherin green to bloody Gryffindor red.

“Gryffindor wins the house cup!” Thunderous applause erupted from the rest of the school.

"This is so unfair," Hermione sighed. She couldn't help but feel that all the trouble she had caused Dumbledore the prior month had played a role. He must suspect someone from Slytherin had informed on his rather unethical way of running the school.

"That's how it works Hermione," Theo replied, "Gryffindor are the heroes and we are the villains."

"What a load of absolute bollocks." Hermione's crass words weren’t met with any affront, the whole Slytherin table sunk in despair, agreed with the sentiment.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

Sirius Black

Spring of 1972

James Potter was Gryffindor’s golden boy and Sirius hated him. He hated most of the Gryffindors simply because of how much that dotty old bastard of a Headmaster favoured them, but James Potter he hated especially.

They were fourth or fifth cousins, that much Sirius knew, but James with his stupid Muggle name and air of superiority made Sirius livid. He shook off the feelings that the hat had offered him Gryffindor, likely at the headmaster’s urging. He could have been a Golden Boy, too. And that made Sirius Black hate James Potter all the more.

Sometimes Sirius would catch the scarred faced boy - Lupin - staring at him. He tried to ignore the persistent memory of the dream he'd had. Just as he ignored the way the compass from Uncle Alphard pointed unerringly to the bloody Gryffindor. Potter seemed to have adopted Lupin, constantly trying to drag him away from his books. It was just another reason to dislike Lupin as far as Sirius was concerned.

So what if the boy was in his thoughts almost constantly. So what if Sirius couldn’t help but notice that Lupin wasn’t well, it was the stupid compass that without fail once a month pointed to the hospital wing. How on earth could he get sick so often?

Sirius was rarely sick, recovering from his mother’s discipline, yes, but rarely sick. But he wasn’t concerned about Lupin. They weren’t friends. He wasn’t Sirius’ problem or so Sirius tried to tell himself, but whenever he was alone he found himself letting the compass lead him.

It was a freezing March morning before dawn broke, and unable to sleep Sirius found himself walking out past the castle’s wall toward the Whomping Willow, compass in hand. There on the ground was Lupin, his wrists bloody and scratches all up and down his arms. His already threadbare clothing looked ragged, completely inadequate for the chill. Sirius dropped to his knees and shook him, horrified at the feelings of helplessness that were clawing at his throat. Why did he care?

What was he supposed to do?

Should he call for Kreacher? But if he did, the elf would tell his mother, and then Sirius would wish he was dead when they went home for the Ostara holiday next month. Walburga would not be amused by Sirius caring what became of a Half-Blood Gryffindor nobody.

And then out of nowhere came Madam Pomfrey, who looked at him with something approaching alarm.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed, Mr. Black,” Pomfrey scolded, scooping Lupin up into her arms as though he weighed nothing at all. Lupin looked like he weighed nothing, like a fragile broken thing in the matron’s arms. She hurried away back towards the castle and Sirius was left staring after her, scared to look at his compass because he knew where the arrow was pointing.

And he didn’t understand any of it.

*********

Something about Lupin made Sirius vulnerable and he refused to have that, couldn’t have that. So he did the only thing that he could think of, he insulted Lupin when they were heading into Potions. A snide comment about the other boy’s clothes was all it took to make Lupin’s smile fade to nothing and his eyes dull.

Sirius wanted to take it back immediately, but instead he just laughed louder.

The pain on Lupin’s face was reflected in Sirius’ chest, but he was well versed in pain and lies. They had both been taught at his mother’s breast.

Chapter Text

Hermione loved Malfoy Manor in the summer. The rose garden was fragrant and Narcissa would take tea there with her, Draco and Theo. She tried not to read too much into it when she was invited to spend a month there, while Daphne and Pansy weren’t, however it was difficult after all the conversations she’d overheard during the previous holiday.

She had all of Theo and Draco’s attention and she couldn’t help but enjoy it. They would read books and go for walks in the woods and Draco even got her up on a broom a few times. She didn’t feel particularly comfortable, but she tolerated it well enough because it seemed so important to him.

It was an idyllic time and as the summer drew to a close, Hermione wished futilely that it could have lasted forever.

*******

“Hermione, darling,” Narcissa said with a frown as she reread the letter she’d just received at breakfast.

“Yes, Lady Malfoy,” Hermione replied, setting down her fork so that she could focus on the other woman.

“We have a rather unexpected and unwanted guest coming tomorrow. And I would prefer that she not make your acquaintance, so you and Theodore will need to stay upstairs in Draco’s rooms. They have the strongest wards in the house.”

“Who is coming, mother?” Draco asked, in concern.

“My eldest sister, your Aunt Bellatrix is coming, and she’ll be stopping by tomorrow mid-morning for tea before heading to the Lestrange estates in the north. Unfortunately my love you will have to meet her.” Narcissa folded the letter up carefully. “Nothing good can come from Lady Lestrange visiting us. We must just hope that her visit will be brief.”

Theo and Hermione met each other’s eyes with worry.

The next day, everyone was jittery, except for Lady Malfoy who remained calm but with a very determined expression.

“Remember now, don’t come out for any reason. No matter what you hear, my sister has a somewhat distinctive laugh that you may hear. It carries. Do Not Come Out. Do you understand?” Narcissa looked Hermione in the face with seriousness.

“Yes, I understand.”

Once the door to Draco’s room was closed, Theo took Hermione by the hand, “Let’s hide in here.” He pulled her towards Draco’s closet.

“But she said the room was warded,” Hermione began.

“Hermione, do you trust me?” Theo looked at her seriously.

“Yes?” Hermione was confused by the question, of course she trusted Theo, he was one of her best friends.

“Well I have to hide often and this spot in Draco’s closet is safer than being out in the open, grab a book if you need to, but just come with me and don’t argue.”

“But-”

“Don’t argue,” Theo whispered. “Draco’s aunt is far more dangerous than you know, so let's stay safe, alright?”

*******

Draco hadn't said much after he’d finally come back to his room as his aunt was still downstairs visiting with Narcissa. He’d found them in the back of the closet, Hermione reading to Theo with a small ball of light floating over their heads behind his pressed trousers.

He’d just crawled in next to them, dropping his head onto Theo's lap. He looked more miserable than Hermione could ever remember, so she rubbed his back until he fell asleep. They stayed there until late in the night.

At one point Hermione could have sworn she heard cackling.

******

A few days later, Diagon Alley was full of students and their families. The hustle and bustle was even bigger than the prior year in Hermione’s mind. Lucius had been the one to bring them. Narcissa had been clearly overwrought after her sister's visit and had spent the last day in bed. Hermione didn't know what to think. She knew her parents disliked her great Aunt Euphemia because she was unpleasant, but it didn't seem to have come close to Draco’s Aunt Bellatrix. He still hadn’t said a word to her about what had transpired, but Theo looked at Draco with his knowing eyes and Hermione wondered if she was intentionally being kept from what was going on.

She tried to shove down her concerns as they wandered through Diagon Alley with their shopping lists.

Despite the crowds, the day had been going remarkably pleasantly. Hermione should have known that it wouldn't last.

Flourish and Blotts was where it all went wrong. Hermione was immediately flustered when she came face to face with Ronald Weasley and a thin girl that must have been his sister. The girl attempted to greet Hermione with a shake of her hand and a smile, but Ron shoved the girl and barked at her.

“We don't speak to snakes, Ginny.” The girl flushed and went to hide behind one of the twins as though Hermione might bite her.

It was then that Hermione realized that arguing in the middle of the shop was a man that must be Mr. Weasley, along with a tall woman with thick ebony curls piled high on her head and a stately black gown. Her lips were painted scarlet and she looked far more like Lord Black than she looked like Narcissa. Oh of course, Hermione realised Lady Lestrange was his cousin as well.

Pureblood Wizarding families were so interconnected.

“We have far different ideas about what disgraces the Wizarding kind, Bellatrix,” Mr. Weasley stated with scorn.

“We aren’t at school anymore dear cousin, it's Lady Lestrange to you now,” she hissed, poking one long black lacquered manicured finger into his chest.

Lucius Malfoy sighed dramatically, “It appears I must assist your aunt, Draco, please go with Hermione and Theo and gather up your books. Keep out of your aunt's sight. Best not to draw her attention when she is in such a mood.” His eyes flicked to Hermione and back to the witch spitting vitriol.

“Of course, father.” Draco grabbed Hermione by the wrist and dragged her off into the stacks of the store, Theo trailing behind.

She wanted desperately to overhear what the altercation was about. It wasn't long until Lucius found them in the potion section.

“Is everything alright father?” Draco asked with a frown.

“Quite,” Lucius’ smile seemed forced. “Your aunt has returned to meet up with your uncle at Gringotts and the Weasleys have taken themselves off in righteous indignation. So Flourish and Blotts appears neutral for now. Take your time selecting your texts. I will save my business at Gringotts for another day. Just to be safe.”

Lord Malfoy looked stoic as he stood there but she could see the exhaustion in the tightness around his eyes.

What was it about Bellatrix Lestrange that made people seem like they had gone to battle after meeting with her?

********

Hermione had the misfortune of running into Ron Weasley again once they were on the Hogwarts Express. She wished she had accepted Theo’s offer to walk her to the loo, but she had thought that it was overkill. And now just looking at his rude face was enough for her to consider whether she could get away with shoving him off the train.

“What’s your problem, Weasley?” she asked when he refused to get out of her way.

“Malfoy’s aunt is a nutter,” he sneered. “My dad said she's lucky not to be in Azkaban.”

“Well your father and she are cousins, right? So I suppose he would know.” Hermione smiled at him, all false politeness.

“You don’t know anything about anything, filthy little mud-!” Ronald yelled at her, stepping closer, so she stepped backwards afraid suddenly that he might hurt her. Her wand was in her boot, she just needed to grab it.

“Ronniekins,” one of the Weasley twins leaned out of a nearby compartment, followed by his twin who scowled at his younger brother.

“What do you-”

“Think you are -”

“Doing?” They'd finished in unison.

“Nothing,” Ron flushed.

“Right. You head back to Harry and the rest of your friends and leave Granger here alone,” the first twin ordered. “Or we will owl mum first thing.”

Ronald stomped off and Hermione let out a relieved sigh against her will. She hated to show weakness to Gryffindors.

“I'm Forge.”

“And I'm Gred,” the twins told her.

“I know who you are,” Hermione replied, crossing her arms.

“And this is our sister, Ginny,” they continued as though Hermione hadn't spoken and gestured at the girl peeking out behind them, speaking in unison. “She’s a first year.”

“Obviously,” Hermione replied, channeling Professor Snape. She didn’t have the energy left to be civil. “Have a good sorting. Well thanks for getting Ronald to sod off, but I need to use the necessary. So if you'll excuse me.”

******

The carriages had been a completely different experience. They had been pulled by invisible creatures and Hermione didn'twant to draw attention to her ignorance by asking about them.

Theo seemed particularly distracted, but Blaise and Draco were chatting so much that they didn't seem to notice. Hermione was the only girl in their carriage as the other girls had gone together and she tried to not feel bitter about it. Hopefully they were not angry with her about spending so much time at Malfoy Manor.

By the time they had all converged together at the Slytherin table, everything seemed normal enough.

Dumbledore made a ridiculous speech and then the incoming students were sorted. Hermione’s eyes found the Weasley girl in the crowd waiting for her sorting.

“Another Weasley,” Hermione pointed out to Pansy as Ginny was sorted into Gryffindor with her three older brothers to no one's surprise.

“The last one, thank Salazar,” Pansy agreed. “My mother said Molly Weasley kept having sons until she finally got a daughter and only then did she stop.”

“Oh perhaps that's why Ronald is the way he is,” Hermione offered. “Poor baby, mummy didn't want him.”

Everyone laughed around her at that comment, Blaise nodding with approval.

“Lovegood,” McGonagall called. And a fey little blonde hurried up to the dais.

“Draco, isn't that your cousin?” Theo asked in a whisper that Hermione could barely hear.

Draco only nodded, his face solemn, his eyes flat slate as the hat announced, “Ravenclaw!”

None of the other Slytherins seemed to have heard Theo and Draco’s little aside, but Hermione couldn’t hear anything else. It was clearly a secret, and Hermione watched the girl’s dreamy smile as she headed to her table, never once looking over at Draco who was clenching his napkin as though he wanted to destroy the thing.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

August 1972

Diagon Alley might, in fact, be one of Sirius Black's favourite places in all the world. You never quite knew what would happen and Sirius loved that. It was like the physical embodiment of the restlessness underneath his skin.

His father had taken him to Gringotts and then to a number of shops in Knockturn Alley before sending Sirius off under his own power, Sirius suspected in order to meet his current mistress, but he didn’t care. It was just so nice to be free from his parents for a few hours.

He went to Fortescue's first and got himself a cherry ice. They had been his favorite since his great aunt Casseopeia had gotten him one when she had visited from Spain four years ago, even his bitterness at her death did not remove his enjoyment of the treat. He sat alone and watched the crowds go by while he savoured his treat.

He hadn’t been there long enough to even get halfway through his ice, when the son of his disowned great aunt Cedrella went by pushing a young son in a pram as his very pregnant wife waddled next to him. Arthur…that was his name…Weasley.

Gods, their robes were in horrendous condition, clearly second hand, Arthur’s robes were too short for his ridiculous height, and they were having a second child when clearly they couldn’t afford the first. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. The witch was barely old enough to be out of school, a Prewett. Weasley must have chosen her for her fertility, too bad he hadn’t the funds to care for her properly. It was positively shameful.

They probably didn’t even have a house elf. Sirius shook his head as they disappeared into the crowd, unaware that he’d been judging them silently.

“Why Arthur!” A cackle sounded through the alley and sent people skittering away from its source. Sirius knew that voice. Bellatrix. He turned so he could watch the interaction now that things were about to get more interesting.

“Bella,” the redheaded wizard nodded politely.

“I heard that you were already expecting again, Molly,” Bellatrix said. “Congratulations are in order.”

“Th-thank you, Lady Lestrange,” the round little witch looked as though she was ready to pee herself in terror. She was positively trembling.

“I noticed I wasn’t invited to William’s first birthday, but not to be remiss I did send a gift. Did you receive it?” Bella asked, with a little flutter of her eyelashes.

Sirius wondered if it had been anything like what he had gotten for his birthday. He didn’t think that a poison ring would be a particularly good gift for a baby.

“We did. We were honoured to receive a Black family heirloom.”

Bella nodded as though it was her due. “Roddy tells me that you are up for a promotion at the Ministry, I asked him to put in a good word for you of course.”

“Well Bella I’m not sure that I want to be promoted into a different department, I quite like what I’m doing…” Arthur trailed off.

“Nonsense Arthur, you need to set aside some of that and think of your family first. You’ll have two children before you know it and Molly will certainly need some help.”

“I’m perfectly capable of,” . Molly tried to interrupt, pulling herself as tall as she could manage and tried to look at Bellatrix full on at the same time. Something about her quavering tone gave away her lie, making evident she was just trying to save face from the situation they had found themselves in.

Bella ignored whatever Molly had been intending to say with the merest shrug. "Molly you know you know it's rude to interrupt others." Reprimanded like a child, Molly turned so beet red Sirius thinks she might pop out the baby in her anger. This was a show far better than the wizarding wireless.

Bellatrix ignored the other witch. “If you won’t let me send a house elf to lend a hand, then you need to make more galleons so you can hire some other help. I’m sure this won’t be your last child after all. So lucky that your wife is so…fecund, so important to expand our pureblood heritage.”

“We so appreciate your offer Bella, but there hasn’t been a house elf in the Burrow in two hundred years and I’d hate to break tradition.”

“Well tradition is important, isn’t it?” Bella smiled, not the feral smile Sirius was used to, but a kind one.

“It is,” Arthur agreed. William began to fuss in his pram, they’d been stationary for far too long.

“Oh we should g-” Molly began, but instead Bellatrix scooped up the child into her arms. Sirius’ eyes must have grown three sizes. He’d never seen Bella lift up a baby other than Regulus. This was truly unexpected.

“There, there William, darling, let your daddy and cousin Bella chat,” she told him with a little tap of a long manicured nail on the tip of his nose. The baby seemed so shocked he just watched her and Sirius could remember that look on Reggie’s face when he was a baby. Bella was always larger than life, but this was a side of Bella that Sirius had never seen. There was something going on here that he didn’t understand. He’d have to ask Narcissa about it.

The conversation seemed to have run its course, but Bellatrix finally turned to the other witch and asked Molly, “So Molly are Gabriel and Fabian well?”

“Yes,” the pregnant witch bit out.

“And my father-in-law of course sends his regards to your Great Aunt Muriel, but of course she does have so many wizards of a certain age wrapped around her little finger. Does she still have that tiara that Abraxas Malfoy gave her?” Bellatrix pursed her lips. “Such stunning gifts she received as a younger witch and yet never married. Oh to be so pursued would have been quite exciting. Don’t you think, Molly dear?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Molly replied curtly.

“You wouldn’t would you? Well I can’t imagine having to resort to the use of love potions, but here we all are,” Bellatrix smiled with the false sweetness that Sirius did recognise. She hated the other witch in front of her.

“Well it’s been lovely to see you Bella,” Arthur Weasley stated flatly. “Looks like William has fallen asleep on you.”

“What a sweet little thing he is,” Bellatrix replied, refusing to hand the child off to his father, but instead placing him directly into the pram. “Do remember to invite me to the next birthday, cousin. Even if Roddy and I are away, I’ll send a gift.”

“Of course,” the wizard agreed, clearly trying to extricate his wife before the witch hexed the lady of an ancient and noble house. Bellatrix flounced off as elegantly as she could awash in layers of black lace as she was.

“I don’t want that foul …” Molly began, positively vibrating in rage as soon as Bella was out of sight.

“Not here,” Arthur hissed, grabbing the pram and swiftly steering it back towards the Leaky Cauldron. This entire interaction had given him much to think about.

A bell inside the shop announced the Potters’ entrance into the ice cream shop, a very happy family of three and Sirius instantly scowled. Especially when James was practically hugging his new broom like it was the best thing that he had ever received. He was practically twirling with it like he was with a dance instructor.

"I can't wait to get home and practice flying on my new broom! I'll be sure to make the Quidditch team!" James Potter hopped around his parents like he was a pygmy puff. It was appalling. His father held his mother close to him, kissing her on the temple in public. He imagined that his father would call it positively indecent if he was here. Sirius didn’t disagree. Wizards shouldn’t paw at witches in the open view of the world.

Sirius barely restraining himself from retching, pushing the last bit of his frozen ice away from him. They had simply put him off sweets.

But now that Potter mentioned Quidditch, he should probably get something for Reggie as a nice surprise, maybe a toy snitch. His father would be occupied for a while still, Sirius should enjoy his freedom as long as he could.

He’d be home with his mother again before he knew it. His stomach turned to lead at the thought.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16 

October 1992

Nothing more had been said about Luna Lovegood and it was driving Hermione to distraction. It had been nearly two months, but Draco hadn’t said anything to Theo that she’d overheard, nor had he shared this secret with her either. It had hurt her feelings a bit at first, but she realised there must be some sort of family drama at play. 

Their second year had continued much as their first had done, with the exception of one thing that she didn’t much care for: Quidditch. 

Draco had made the team, as the seeker, along with Blaise as a chaser. And Hermione was now obligated to watch the games regardless of the weather. 

Luckily Theo’s interest in competitive Quidditch was also minimal beyond supporting their friends. They would pass books back and forth during the games while taking turns watching the action. The other Slytherins rolled their eyes at the two swots, but as long as Theo and Hermione kept collecting house points for academic achievement, no snakes had anything negative to say.

******

Halloween 1992

The trio of second year Slytherins, Hermione, Theo and Draco, had spent too long in the library after the Halloween feast because Hermione and Theo had both been in positive conniptions over an essay that they’d been assigned by Snape because Gryffindors didn’t know how to behave in a potion lab. Their horseplay today could have gotten someone seriously injured. 

Draco had escorted them even though he was positive that their professor wouldn’t even read the Slytherins essays.

Heading back towards the dungeons they came upon Potter, Weasley and Parvati Patil staring up at graffiti on the castle wall, in what looked like red paint.

“The Chamber has been opened. Enemies of the Heir beware,” Hermione read. “Whatever does that mean?”

“The Chamber of Secrets is a mythical room in Hogwarts,” Theo stated. “It was said to have been built by Salazar Slytherin himself.”

“Enemies of the heir,” Weasley said with a jerk of his neck. “That means people like you,” he sneered at Hermione.

Potter looked as though he wanted the ground to swallow him up and Hermione couldn’t wait to send Narcissa a note about this little debacle. She’d share the information with Lord Black at her first opportunity. Getting Harry Potter in trouble at home was one of Hermione’s great joys in life, because Merlin knew he wasn’t getting in any kind of trouble at Hogwarts, Dumbledore’s golden boy that he was.

“Go on and call me a mudblood Weasley,” Hermione shot back. “I know that’s what you are implying. Bloody bigot.”

“Enemies of the heir are those that are unworthy, Weasel. And we all know who has about as much magical prowess as a toadstool don’t we?” Draco jibed.

“Why I oughta!” Weasley rushed towards a cackling and cocky Draco, but the arrival of Mr Filch put an end to that as he sobbed over the petrified state of Mrs. Norris who was wedged into one of the wall torches. It was sheer luck that her fur hadn’t caught fire. That sobered Draco up right away as he rather liked animals - especially cats - even if Mrs Norris did belong to the noxious Filch. .

After Professor McGonagall sent them on their way, not without docking points for being out after curfew, Draco whispered to the others, “I do hope Mrs. Norris will be alright.”

Theo nodded and whispered back, “There’s a very small amount of things that are able to petrify an animal like that. I think you should write to your mother and her cousin right away.”

Hermione looked thoughtfully behind them and frowned. Was she really in danger? It was a rather chilling thought, despite the bravado she showed towards Ronald Weasley.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17

September 1972

Sirius was grateful that Lucius was still at Hogwarts this year. Sirius had hexed a boy bloody on the train and Lucius, as a prefect, handled it, confunding the Gryffindor wanker so that he wasn’t sure what had happened at all. 

Pettigrew, Sirius’ brain hissed, the fat little shite had shoved him as he walked by, alone, and Sirius had shown him the error of his ways. It was just too bad that the lion cub wouldn’t remember who had bloodied his nose and blackened his eye. A much stronger curse had been on the edge of Sirius’ tongue but Lucius had stopped him. 

“Sirius, you have to learn to control your temper,” Lucius advised softly when they were alone. 

“He deserved it. He -” Sirius began, but Lucius cut him off with a shake of the head.

“Doesn’t matter, you can’t risk getting called into the Headmaster’s office. My father heard rumours over the summer that he drugs the candies he offers to students.” 

Sirius blanched. “With what?” 

“Something that made someone nearly betray an unbreakable vow apparently. It was only the lad’s closely avoided imminent death that led anyone to awareness on the matter.” Lucius rubbed his face, looking far older than seventeen. “I’m not telling you not to get revenge when you are disrespected, but please Sirius, don’t do anything that would lead you to being caught. We live in dangerous times. You are no better than a Gryffindor when you put yourself at risk in such a way.” 

“How does that blasted man still hold his position?” Sirius asked in dismay, fear curling in his gut at the very thought of the headmaster.   

“Politics, blackmail and decades of backroom deals. He is still high on the glory of defeating Grindelwald. But make no mistake, Dumbledore often speaks about the Greater Good but it is his Greater Good and no one else's.” 

“I will remember Lucius.” 

**********

Chapter Text

Chapter 18

December 17th, 1992

Theodore Nott was convinced that Professor Lockhart used Amortentia as a cologne. It was honestly the only thing that could explain his popularity, because the wizard was as self-absorbed as a man could be, his vanity and pretension were obvious. Theo couldn’t stand him, but he especially could not stand the way Hermione and Draco hung onto his every word. It made his chest ache and he knew he was being snappish with his friends, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He also couldn't sleep, which was making him more irritable. The voices in the pipes and walls were making him batty. And no one else seemed to be able to hear them.

He had made the mistake of mentioning them to Blaise and he had looked at him like he was going insane. The constant refrain about killing that only he seemed to hear was making him feel like that was possible.

Something was really wrong with him and the only other person who looked like they were about to come out of their skin was Potter. And now he was at this stupid duelling club that was Lockhart's idea.

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions — for full details, see my published works.” Lockhart finished with a wide vapid grin.

Theo rolled his eyes so hard that his head hurt. He was just grateful that Professor Snape was there, that viper wouldn't let it go too far out of control.

“First, darling fans—I mean students, a demonstration of formal duelling, including the accepted combative position. Watch Professor Snape’s and my footwork and wand positioning. It's important to set the stage.”

Theo didn't blame Snape when he sneered in his greeting. If Theo could get away with being that rude to Lockhart without losing house points, then he absolutely would.

Snape easily overpowered Lockhart, hitting him with a Disarming Charm so powerful that it knocked Lockhart against the nearby wall. Theo restrained his urge to clap, but some others didn't bother, while the shocked gasps around drowned the applause out.

“I let Professor Snape do that, children,” Lockhart said as he woozily shook himself off. “So that you could see how dangerous duelling can be.” Lockhart's lies angered Snape so much that even that numpty Lockhart could tell, Theo was sure.

The two professors decided to let the students practise duelling on their own. The students were split into pairs and commanded to practise disarming.

Snape made sure that he, Draco and Hermione weren’t teamed up. Their Head of House likely knew that they would be careful with each other and hold back.

“Nott with Finnegan. Zabini with Weasley. Granger with Brown. Malfoy with Potter,” Snape called out.

“Gods,” Blaise cursed. “If he kills me with that broken wand, tell my mother I died valiantly.”

“You and I both know that would be a lie.”

“Lie to my mother then Theodore, I would lie to your father for you.”

Theo nodded, hoping that was true. He liked to think he was making more than just expedient allies in Slytherin, that he was making real friends.

Finnegan nearly set himself on fire twice and Theo easily disarmed him before he succeeded in doing so the third time.

Looking around Theo noted that the duelling students were swiftly becoming more than a bit feral. Brown pulled Hermione’s hair after she disarmed the Gryffindor and Theo nearly ran over there, but Hermione hexed the other girl onto the ground.

Snape ended all their bouts with the use of a Finite Incantatem.

"Lockhart, perhaps we ought to teach the students to block unfriendly spells. I believe it would be prudent.”

Lockhart agreed, but then failed to provide any sort of meaningful instruction to anyone. He just stood about flashing his stupid smile as though he expected the Daily Prophet to appear out of thin air.

Snape scrambled the pairings for dueling partners, and yet when Theo looked over there was Draco, duelling stupid Potter…again.

Theo quickly won his bout against some Hufflepuff called Boot and turned to look at Draco just as his friend got a wicked look to his eyes that never boded well.

“Serpensortia!” Draco conjured a large, black snake. It hissed menacingly at Potter who fell backwards to avoid it.

Snape moved to intervene but Lockhart moved first, hitting the snake with a flick of his wand and shouted “Alarte Ascendare!”

The spell only lifted the snake a few feet into the air, enraging it further when it crashed down to the ground. It struck out at the air and caused it to make its way towards the Muggleborn git from Ravenclaw.

Potter, seemingly unaware of what he was doing, commanded the snake to stop in Parseltongue.

“Stop,” Potter hissed at the huge snake. “Don't Attack.”

“Speaker,” the snake hissed back. “I am hungry.”

Theo realised in horror that he understood what Potter was saying and the snake itself. The horrified gasps and whispers surrounded him and Theo felt like he was drowning.

He and Potter were both parselmouths.

Oh no. Theo kept his face carefully blank but no one was looking at him. All eyes were on Potter and the snake.

Snape's usually austere expression was horrified as he vanished the snake and ended the meeting.

“That's enough!” Snape roared, “everyone get back to your dorms now. This club meeting is over.”

Theo couldn't breathe. He shouldn't be able to understand snakes. The only Wizards he knew of that could do that were Salazar Slytherin and the Dark Lord. He'd never been around a real snake before, his father had never allowed him to.

Was he the Heir of Slytherin??

Oh he was in so much trouble.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19

November 3, 1972

Sirius was excited to have his birthday again at Hogwarts, and this time it was on a Friday. Though he wasn’t going to make a big production for his birthday, there was no denying that thirteen was a big deal. His grandfather had planned a formal event over Yule to celebrate his ascension to manhood. The men of his family would begin considering marriage contracts for him anytime.

His parents had sent a brand new bespoke black cloak and when he wore it outside to the courtyard, he felt the eyes of the other students staring at him.

Among them was Lupin, watching him as he always did.

Sirius wondered if he’d ended up outside in the cold again.

No. No, he didn’t wonder.

Because he didn’t care.

Remus Lupin was nothing to Sirius Black.

Nothing at all.

No matter what Alphard’s bloody compass said.

That thing must be broken.

He’d tell his uncle so at Christmas.

That’s what he would do.

And despite the tightness in his gut, he turned to Rabastan with a smile as his friend brought him his gift.

Everything was perfect.

Sirius Black couldn’t possibly want anything more than what he had.

He didn’t.

He couldn’t.

Amber eyes haunted his steps.

Sirius pretended he didn’t know.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20

Yule Break 1992

Hermione was overjoyed that her parents had agreed to let her spend all of her winter holidays with the Malfoys this year. Their practice had been booked up with appointments, not counting the emergency surgeries they knew would happen, and there tended to be a lot during the holidays. It was so busy that the Grangers were looking at potentially celebrating Christmas and Boxing Day on entirely different days this year to make it up to Hermione. But they still sent all her gifts with Narcissa when she’d stopped by their home to ask for permission. Hermione did feel a tinge of guilt about being so happy, but she didn’t really want anything to be different.

None of the other girls had been invited to stay and Hermione couldn’t help but feel like there was some sort of victory in that.

She had Draco all to herself and that was the best present that she could possibly receive.

Theo would be joining them, but only after he and his parents spent a couple weeks visiting his mother’s family in Greece and Albania. He was going to return just in time to attend the ball, at least Hermione hoped he was going to return in time to attend the ball. Theo himself hadn’t been certain. His mum’s health was a little fragile so their travelling pace was slow. Hermione supposed that’s why she’d never met her. She frowned, hoping that his family wasn’t prejudiced about her adoptive family being Muggles. She knew that some people had a distaste for the non-magical world.

Narcissa spent an hour or two each day teaching her various skills that Hermione hadn’t even realized were important to an adult witch like how to dress for different occasions and within the ministry, how to determine if people were worth speaking with, and oh so much about family trees. They spent time in Narcissa’s gardens and harvested flowers so that they could make intricate arrangements for the house. Narcissa started to teach Hermione about the language of flowers and how to flirt or insult with a blossom.

Today, they were creating an arrangement with white roses.

“Now Hermione, white roses are traditionally for new beginnings, but can also be sent to someone to convey admiration of a more pure inclination. They are also entirely appropriate when someone has passed on, and significantly less gauche, in my opinion, than Chrysanthemums,” Narcissa advised. “Numbers of blossoms can also be important. I know you haven’t yet started arithmancy, but you’ll understand a little more of what I mean then.”

Hermione had been so attentive to Narcissa’s lecture, that she wasn’t careful about the rose thorns and pricked her finger.

“Oh dear, let me help you.” Narcissa fused over her, which Hermione couldn't help but be pleased about, feeling like she was being accepted by her.

Later, she realised the bloody rose had been removed from the arrangement. Hermione supposed that made sense and tried to push that from her mind.

She and Draco were now curled up together sipping hot tea and covered in a small mountain of fluffy blankets as they read. Hermione was practicing her Latin with a medieval book on dragons while Draco was reading a memoir of some Black ancestor from France, in French of course, the posh bugger, Hermione thought affectionately..

Narcissa came in to check on them, the house elves with her, bringing warm biscuits fresh from the oven.

“Mother, there has to be some sort of an error here, it says Mon oncle a assisté au mariage avec sa femme et son mari. His wife and his husband? Don’t they mean consort?”

“Not necessarily Draco, love, triads are one of the traditional forms of magical marriages that have fallen out of fashion as Muggle trends have become more popular. It was often formed if a family had only one heir and they wanted to ensure continuity of the line. There are at least six in the main Black line when we look back before the Norman conquest. Why even consorts are far more rare today. When I finished Hogwarts there were several amongst the high society of the Ancient and Noble houses.” Narcissa’s smile was nostalgic, as though she was remembering people of whom she had at one time been fond.

“Oh,” Draco said, a blush coloring his cheeks as he returned to his book.

Hermione bit her lip trying not to ask her questions, but curiosity got the better of her. “Would it always be two men with a wife or…”

“I’ve seen both,” Narcissa answered. “I even once read that Morgana Le Fay had three husbands.”

“Oh my that seems like alot,” Hermione said in surprise. “At the same time?”

“At the same time,” Narcissa agreed with a smile.

“And if a witch had two husbands how would they know who was the father of any babies? Or would it matter?” Hermione asked, unable to stop herself despite the fact that she was concerned that her questions might be inappropriate.

“Well,” Narcissa paused and pursed her lips. “You’re right in that it does matter, for the purposes of declaring bloodline heirs. Now, you two are a bit young for specifics, but there are charms for paternity, but it’s easy if you only have two candidates. House elves can also tell. In fact when I was expecting Draco, the Malfoy elves were the very first to know. It’s the family magic.”

“Oh that’s intriguing,” Hermione said with a gleam in her eye.

“I’ll look about the library and see if there is anything that’s appropriate for your tender age,” Narcissa smiled, ruffling their hair before she headed back the way she’d come.

“Planning to have three husbands, Hermione?” Draco whispered, not looking at her.

“I didn’t even realise it was an option,” Hermione answered honestly. “Muggles and Wizards do so many things differently. Consorts are not a thing. No multiple spouses in a marriage.” Hermione listed them out on her fingers. “I do hope your mother can find a book.”

Draco laughed softly. “Nothing makes you happy like a book that teaches you something.”

Hermione elbowed him softly. “Don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing, it's only a wonder that you and Theo aren’t in Ravenclaw.”

Hermione shrugged. She supposed that one or both of her birth parents had been in Slytherin.

“But look at it this way, you can marry both Daphne and Pansy,” Hermione offered.

Draco made a face. “Hermione, why would I ever want to marry them?”

Hermione was secretly thrilled that Draco was not interested in those witches and she had to control the smile that wanted to form on her face. Despite being friends with the two in question, Hermione still didn't want them to have Draco.

*******

Solstice was a much bigger deal than Hermione had been anticipating at Malfoy Manor. She realized that she’d only come a day or two before the gala last year; the holiday actually took place over the course of several evenings. Tonight, they were out on the grounds with a pair of huge bonfires lighting up the night sky in an intimate family celebration.

Even Lord Malfoy - Lucius - had seemed more than happy to have Hermione with them during this portion of the holiday.

Hermione was a little tipsy from the spiced wine that she’d been allowed to have. Draco too was laughing with her as they held hands and spun in circles between the fires. Narcissa had put up wards that prevented them from getting burned when they had started their games.

Torchlight shone around the table where there was a feast fit for Hogwarts, despite the fact that there were only the Malfoys, Hermione and Professor Snape in attendance. Even the house elves seem infected by the gaiety of the evening and Hermione saw more gathered out in the gardens than she had ever seen in all her visits to Malfoy Manor. Four of them had even begun to play music on tiny elvish instruments.

At one point Narcissa and Lucius disappeared for a while and left Professor Snape to watch over the pair of them to his annoyance. Although he rose from his seat when Draco begged him to cast some firework charms for them, the magical lights illuminating the sky above them.

This was the best winter solstice of Hermione’s life.

*****

December 20, 1992

Greece

Theo

“Sibella!” His grandmother embraced his mother and kissed her on both cheeks when they arrived. He had rarely seen his mother smile as widely as she was doing now.

Theo too was passed around for kisses amongst his great aunts and uncles, he was much younger than the majority of his cousins who were also there to greet his family's arrival. His father, he noticed, was left out of the overt physical affection, but greeted loudly with handshakes and formal bows from all of the men. There were probably close to three dozen people in attendance.

Theo wasn't used to this level of noise, but smiled and used every single manner that had been drilled into him, despite the fact that all he wanted was to find a quiet corner with a book. He didn’t need to look at his father to know that the man was keeping one eye on Theo at all times to ensure that his heir did not embarrass him.

“Theodoros, come sit next to me,” his grandmother called to him as the family all went out to the massive veranda to eat in the cooling night air. The witch had been a great beauty in her youth. Now she was nearly eighty, with long grey hair that was straight as a pin. Theo had once, long ago, seen her youthful painted portrait and a magical photograph her mother had of her and Theo’s grandfather. That’s when Theo figured out that he had inherited his grandfather's curls. It was the only time he had seen his grandfather as his mother kept that picture well hidden, but Theo had found it when he was sitting with her during one of her many illnesses. He was never able to find it again. The image though had been burned into his brain.

“I am so happy that you have finally come to visit, chryso mou.” Grandmother said warmly. “My little treasure is finally here with us. Last time you came to see us you were so small.”

“Grandmother,” Theo asked between courses. “Why did you never remarry after my grandfather died?”

“You are the image of him,” his grandmother said instead of answering, ruffling his hair. “But we never married. I was happy enough with louloúdi mou, and now with you. What did I need with another man to steal my peace and quiet?”

Theo resisted pointing out how loud everyone was all around them. And covered up his shock that she and grandfather had never been married at all. What a scandal that would be if society in England knew.

“How did you meet him then?” Theo asked, as no one seemed to realize that Theo was obtaining family secrets at the loud boisterous table. He imagined that not even the Weasleys were this loud at home.

“Ah, I was visiting one of my grandmothers in Albania and he was travelling through the country. It was epithumia at first sight.” She snapped her fingers. Theo blushed a little at the implication.

“He was the most powerful wizard I have ever met and he had never met a seeress like me before, who could trace her family line to the Oracle of Delphi.” Theo’s grandmother added more food to his already full plate. “You need to eat more.”

“Do you give prophecies, grandmother?” Theo wondered aloud.

“Do you want to know your future, Theodoros?” His grandmother asked with a challenging glint to her eye, ocean blue like his.

“I am not sure…” he trailed off.

“That is wise.” She nodded her head in approval. “The future is a noose spun of the thread of destiny. Knowing what will come changes nothing. It only causes more pain.”

Her eyes flicked to his mother, who was sitting with his father at the other end of the table talking with his great-grandfather, Kosta, the Pythiakis patriarch. Theo wondered if his grandmother knew something that she wasn’t sharing.

“And what of you, my little one? Do you see the future when you look in the eyes of your friends?”

Theo shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

His grandmother smiled at him and squeezed his hand. “Let us pray that it stays that way, yes?”

Theo didn't think that he wanted that kind of magic and he hoped it passed him. All the Oracles at Delphi had been women so he hoped that he would be spared from knowing about a future that was set in stone.

*******

December 28, 1992

Greece

“Theo I realised we have been here for over a week and we haven't had any time just the two of us,” his mother said, sipping her mint tea. “Tell me, what has been going on at school. I’ve heard strange rumours.”

“Oh yes, so much happened!” Theo joined his mother at her bedside, standing back so he could talk in his usual animated fashion when he told her stories.

His mother was leaning back against her pillows, resting as she often did, while he told her every detail of his life at Hogwarts. A small smile sat on her face throughout, until he came to the bit about the duelling club.

“So then Draco summoned a snake during his duel with Potter and Lockhart, the idiot, lifted it and dropped it instead of banishing it. And Potter tried to tell the snake not to bite this other student - a Ravenclaw no maybe a Hufflepuff, but he was just hissing, but I could understand every word. And then the snake called him speaker and said he was hungry. Then Professor Snape banished it.” Theo didn't realize it but he had hissed the word speaker.

His mother was still, not sipping her tea, not saying a word. She looked as though she had seen, or perhaps heard, a ghost.

“Parseltongue runs in families doesn’t it mum?” Theo asked solemnly. “I thought that only descendents of Salazar Slytherin could speak it.”

A look of panic settled over his mother’s face, “You must never tell anyone that you know parseltongue, Theodore. Not a soul.” Her hand went to her stomach and she made an exhalation as though she was in pain. “We have done everything we can to bury this, but if word gets out, it will ruin everything. It will taint your entire life my love.”

“Is this about the ‘enemies of the heir beware’ that was painted on the wall at Hogwarts?”

All the blood drained from his mother’s face at those words. “You didn’t tell me about that…” she gasped, the teacup falling from its saucer and crashing on the stone floor. “Theo, go get your father. Right now.”

Theo ran, but later he would remember the blood beginning to spread on the white duvet under his mother.

******

December 30, 1992

Malfoy Manor

Theo arrived unexpectedly the day before the New Years Gala. Hermione was holed up in her room taking a bubble bath according to the elves. So Draco was having brunch with his parents when Theo was announced.

“Oh Theodore, we weren’t expecting you,” Narcissa said from the head of the table, surrounded by papers for the gala.

“Not that you are not welcome,” Lucius added.

“Father said he needed me out from underfoot for a few hours,” Theo replied, a little bow more formal than usual.

“Of course,” Lucius replied, easily. “Join us for brunch Theodore. We are always pleased to have you here.”

Draco was on the far end of the table (mostly to ensure that he didn’t accidentally spill on Narcissa’s umpteenth lists) and he beckoned Theo over.

“We had to cut our trip short because mum got sick in Greece, and father wanted to bring her home to be seen by our family’s personal healer,” Theo sighed as he took his seat. “She’s…um…expecting. I just found out and I'm so worried.”

Draco’s eyes widened and flicked to Narcissa where she was checking over RSVP lists and menus at the other end of the table before settling back on Theo again. “I’m sure she’ll be okay, Theo.”

Theo nodded. “So far my little brother or sister is okay too, but…”

Draco squeezed Theo’s shoulder. “I understand, hey you remember when…you know, what happened with my mother before we went to Hogwarts.” Narcissa had lost a baby girl just weeks before they had left for Hogwarts. Theo remembered, of course, how could he forget?

“My mother was fine, your mother will be fine too,” Draco reassured.

Theo nodded, his face solemn remembering that. Losing babies wasn’t uncommon in Pureblood households, but it didn't make it any less sad. And Theo wanted to be a big brother, but he wanted his mum to be healthy far more. He knew that most of her illnesses were lost babies and couldn't understand why his father would not just stop. Wasn’t Theo enough? He knew that his father’s first wife had died in her birthing bed, a vision flashed before his eyes of his mother dead the same way.

And Theo hoped that it was just his fear and not fate edging into his mind.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21

Yule 1972

Grimmauld Place

Sirius had been invited to the Malfoy’s for Yule and Walburga was desperate to be sure that he wouldn’t embarrass them. Sirius was gratified that his mother had not been included on the invitation, but she rarely left the house regardless of the prestigious family who sent the invitation.

She straightened his robes for the dozenth time, vowing her vengeance if he disgraced the name of Black. Sirius refrained from pointing out that he was the one that had been invited, he was the one that Lucius had decided to mentor. He didn’t think that his mother would take that well.

The floo alarm rang and his mother left the room in a cloud of muttered curses to see who it was, despite the fact that his Uncle Cygnus and Narcissa were expected to arrive. They had also been invited as Cissa and Lucius were close to finalising their marriage contract. It was going to be a great match for both families.

Tonight’s gathering was small, just the Malfoys and a few guests. There would be a light meal and then bonfires and a family ritual. Sirius knew better than to expect that he would participate or even watch that part of the evening, but he wondered if Narcissa would be included. She would be the lady of the house after the wedding after all.

Regulus peeked in around his doorframe, “I wish I could come.”

“I wish you could come too,” Sirius admitted.

“Will you tell Pandora hullo for me?” Regulus asked nervously, smoothing his hands on his trousers.

And Sirius was surprised at that, and looked at his little brother questioningly.

“We have kept up a correspondence. We’ve been trading books back and forth. In fact, I’m done with this one,” Regulus handed him a small parcel, wrapped in brown paper. “Can you return it to her?”

“Of course, Reggie,” Sirius agreed, tucking it into his robes. He wondered if Lucius or his father knew that the tightly monitored Malfoy daughter was writing with Regulus. He certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell them if they were not.

“Thanks,” his brother smiled. “And you better get downstairs before they come looking for you.” Sirius nodded, heading down for what he hoped would be an exciting evening away from the bosom of his family.

Malfoy Manor was stunning. The place was welcoming and bright in a way that Grimmauld was not, despite the fact that old Lord Abraxas Malfoy likely had just as many Dark artefacts lying about as his family did. His magic didn’t feel smothered here, unlike at home.

His Uncle Cygnus looked very puffed up and pleased as the house elf guided them to the Manor’s gardens, where the family was already gathered.

Sirius had never seen Pandora Malfoy before. She had long blonde hair that had been piled onto her head and was adorned with poinsettia blossoms and pearls. She was small and elegant, like a little doll. She was laughing at something Lucius was saying as they approached.

Lord Malfoy greeted his uncle first with wide smiles, that must mean that the contract was all but signed. Then he kissed Narcissa’s knuckles with a bow and then turned to him.

“Welcome to my home, Heir Black.”

Sirius bowed deeply. “The pleasure is all mine, Lord Malfoy. My mother and father send their regards as well.”

“Please convey my best wishes for the darkest night to them as well,” Abraxas’ smile was less generous. “Please allow me to introduce my daughter Pandora.” The girl was a picture elegance with her light curtsey. “and you are well acquainted with my Heir, Lucius. If he isn’t discussing our darling Narcissa, then he is discussing you.”

“Please father,” Lucius stepped forward, bowing first to Cygnus and then Sirius. “Don’t embarrass my young friend.”

“Well, let's adjourn to the gardens. The elves have outdone themselves with a small banquet and we’ve hired a quartet of musicians that should play soon.” Abraxas didn’t look even slightly repentant for teasing Sirius.

“We won't eat at the table?” Sirius whispered to his uncle as they followed the Malfoys out, Lucius having offered Narcissa his arm with a beaming smile.

“The meal is served traditionally with rashers and mulled wine and cider. You can eat and admire the bonfires and the gardens,” his uncle whispered back. “These kinds of gatherings used to be more common when I was young. There would have been dozens of families here.”

Sirius nodded and tried to imagine what that would be like. Perhaps after Narcissa and Lucius were wed more of the Blacks would be invited. He had hated leaving Regulus at home.

Quickly upon reaching the gardens, the older men secluded themselves to the side in close discussion and Sirius was left to chaperone Narcissa and Lucius. He was used to their flirting at Hogwarts, but it was clearly different now that their wedding was a foregone conclusion. Narcissa’s cheeks were burnished with a permanent blush as Lucius whispered into her ear.

Lucius Malfoy could be cold and austere, but clearly was in love with Narcissa. Sirius wondered whether he would love the witch he married like that. His parents certainly didn’t love each other in the same way. For example, he couldn’t imagine Lucius ever taking a mistress and his father was quite fond of those.

Pandora stood next to him eating little fairy cakes in companionable silence as they watched the bonfires’ glow and listened to the music’s rise and fall. It really was a shame that more people weren’t here to enjoy the turning of the magical season.

When he was sure that no one was paying them any mind, Sirius secretly returned the book to Pandora, who just as swiftly tucked it away in her own pocket.

“I didn’t know you and my brother had begun letter writing,” Sirius said to her, his implied question hanging in the air: does your family know?

“Lucius knows,” Pandora admitted, clearly hearing his unspoken question. “My father was unaware that we stopped by your family home last year and Luc thought it best to keep that to ourselves.” She shrugged as elegantly as a ten year old could, Sirius supposed. She was pretty, there was no denying that. He wondered if his brother looked at her as more than a friend. With one Malfoy-Black match already arranged, it was unlikely that Abraxas would consider another. Sirius didn’t want Reggie to be heartbroken someday, but he shook the worry off.

They were only ten years old. There was time enough, Sirius supposed, without worrying about things he couldn’t do a single thing about.

“Well, you must tell me about the museum you visited, I was so sorry to have missed it,” Sirius said, letting the girl’s excited voice carry the conversation as he watched his cousin smile up at her future husband. And in that single moment, Sirius felt something ache inside him. He didn’t know what to call it, and quickly forced it into a compartment in the back of his mind.

******

Christmas Dinner 1972

Chateau Noir

France

All of the Blacks that were currently in favour with his grandfather were in attendance at Christmas dinner. Lord Black wasn’t looking particularly well, but it was apparently going to be undiscussed. His mother had actually been forced to show her face outside of Grimmauld for this, but looked as though she was sucking on lemon pith. Luckily Sirius was far from her in the seating arrangements, but Regulus wasn’t so lucky and was seated at their mother’s side with cousin Bellatrix was on Regulus’ other side. Bellatrix's loud cackle at something his mother said was just this side of inappropriate, but no one dared correct the Lady Lestrange. Her husband had bowed out and wasn’t attending this evening, something that Sirius was shocked hadn’t been a huge fight with Bella.

Bellatrix had given him a cursed monkey’s paw earlier when he arrived. He’d thanked her and planned to put it as far away as he could manage when they got home. Narcissa was still walking on air from Yule and her finalised betrothal contract was going to be announced anytime he was sure. In fact from the shine in his Aunt Druella’s eye, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was tonight.

Sirius was between his Uncle Alphard and Great Aunt Calliadora, who was technically a Longbottom, but her husband had been dead for so long that Sirius had never met him. She got on poorly with her daughter-in-law and now lived in here in Chateau Noir, although she didn’t act as Lady of the Manor. She was in her late seventies and her hearing wasn't great, so Sirius was saved from conversing with her.

His mother’s father, Pollux, was arguing with his new wife about who someone had married in the forties, Sirius had no idea who the person was that they were talking about, they’d probably been dead for decades. That Pollux Black had remarried was part of why his mother was so sour today. The man was sixty and his new wife was twelve years older. It was unlikely that the witch would have any children or even outlive her husband. Sirius thought that his mother’s monetary worries were gauche at best and cruel at worst. Why ought his grandfather be lonely if his wife had died? Sirius knew better than to say such things aloud of course. He didn't want to be cursed into unconsciousness when he got home.

Great Aunt Charis, now a Crouch for about fifty years or so, was too ill to come this year and yet her seat sat empty. Sirius wondered if she would be alive to attend next year. She was a fierce woman who wasn’t afraid to lecture even his mother when she disliked her behaviour. He would miss her when she passed. He still missed his Great Aunt Casseopeia, her chair had finally been removed a few years after her passing. Things moved slowly in the Ancient and Noble House of Black. The only exception had been Andromeda…she’d been erased immediately. It still hurt. Uncle Cygnus’ eyes sometimes flickered to where her chair had been. Sirius wondered if she was happy and safe. Did Uncle Cygnus wonder that too? He certainly couldn't ask him.

“So Sirius, how has Hogwarts been?” Uncle Alphard asked him softly as the conversations around them droned on.

“The classwork is terribly easy, I’m a bit bored to be honest.” Sirius whispered back, not trying to attract the attention of his other family members.

“I had a similar experience,” Alphard admitted, sipping his wine. “How about friends? It must be hard to be there without Regulus.”

“It is, but Rabastan Lestrange, that’s Bella’s brother-in-law, has been a good friend,” Sirius offered. And for some reason, Sirius had the strongest urge to tell his uncle about a too-thin boy with golden eyes that he’d found in the snow. He shook it off. Remus Lupin was nothing to him. “I like most of the people in my House.” Except Snivellous, but he wouldn’t mention the filthy halfblood at a family dinner. Lupin’s face in that dream flashed behind his eyes, and Sirius wished that he could tell his uncle about it. Alphard worked in the Department of Mysteries, although no one was particularly clear about what he did there. It was the nature of his work since Unspeakables took Unbreakable Vows to keep their research secret. If anyone could explain those dreams and what the compass was doing, his Uncle could.

“How’s that compass working?” Alphard asked with a knowing look, as though he had a sense of what Sirius was wanting to tell him.

“You know, I think it’s broken.” Sirius replied, softly. “It keeps pointing at things that I am not interested in, not in the slightest.”

“No Sirius, you just are too young yet to know what it’s telling you, but I have faith that you will figure it out.” Alphard patted him on the shoulder and offered an encouraging smile.

“Orion, Sirius I’d like to speak to you in my office after dinner,” his grandfather spoke from the end of the table. Sirius and his father only nodded. Arcturus’ commandments were just that after all.

*****

Grandfather’s den was lined with books and family artefacts, shields and swords made from star metal. He sat across from Sirius and his father at his huge monstrosity of a dark carved desk. Sirius felt very small in comparison to everything in the room and wondered if his father felt similarly.

“So, there have been a few offers for marriage contracts for Sirius since last Christmas and I wanted to see which we would like to move forward with. Before I start listing them out, are there any witches at Hogwarts that have caught your fancy? Or wizards for that matter?”

“Father!” Orion exclaimed, “He’s a bit young for that talk.”

“Orion,” Arcturus tapped on his huge mahogany desk with impatient fingers. “If Sirius wants a consort, we need to be sure we choose him a bride who knows better than to meddle where her opinion isn’t wanted. I won’t have the scandal of that marring the family name.”

Sirius felt the blush raise on his cheeks. He wasn’t sure what to say. He knew that Uncle Alphard had nearly been Lord Rookwood’s Consort, but his mother’s opinion on that had been venomous and he suspected that she’d been part of why those negotiations had fallen apart. He didn’t want her to be that angry with him. He probably wouldn’t survive to be married.

“I haven’t developed a preference of any type sir,” Sirius offered.

Golden eyes flashed in his mind’s eye.

Liar.

Have you come to say goodbye then? In a thick welsh accent.

Liar.

“I’m sure I’ll be pleased with whoever you choose.”

Scars across a thin face.

Liar.

“Isn’t the greatest consideration that they are worthy of the Ancient and Noble House of Black,” Sirius said, swallowing back any other thoughts or inclinations. “Nothing as frivolous as a preference for dark hair or light eyes should get in the way of that.”

His grandfather looked at him for a long time as though he sensed that Sirius wasn’t being fully honest, but finally nodded without questioning him further.

Sirius was relieved to be dismissed, leaving his father and grandfather to discuss his future without him. He didn’t want to be asked, it was all an illusion of choice after all.