Disclaimer: Everything you recognise belongs to the wonderful Joanne K. Rowling, the plot however belongs to me. Also, I don't get paid for that, even though that'd be pretty cool.
A/N: I guess this takes place in sixth or eighth year, but the plot of the books doesn't really influence the story that much. Also, this is my first English story, so keep that in mind while you read that. English is not my mothertongue! However I'd be really grateful for constructive critique. Special thanks to Circle of Fate to beta read this!
So without further ado, here you go, have fun!
Es sind die vorgefassten Meinungen, die es den Völkern so schwer machen, einander zu verstehen, und die es ihnen so leicht machen, einander zu verachten.
- Romain Rolland
Prejudice is a burden that confuses the past, threatens the future and renders the present inaccessible.
- Maya Angelou
Harry frowned at the retreating back of his friend, this was the third evening she fled from the common room. He looked at Ron, but he hadn't noticed, like always, and talked to Dean. Hesitating he looked back and forth between the portrait and Ron, while he thought about what he could do.
If Hermione wanted to talk to him she wouldn't flee from the common room, on the other hand, both of them were very close and she didn't need to tell him what bothered her, whatever it was. But he could be there for her. Help her.
The decision being made he rose and followed her. Luckily it was a very nice late summer's day and he could leave the castle without his cloak. Hermione sat at the lakeside with her head on her knees and apparently thinking. Slowly Harry draw closer, not sure what to do, till he finally settled with sitting beside her.
For a little while both of them sat there together in silence, listening to the noises of the school ground.
"Harry? Do you think a person can be a good person, even if his parents are evil? Do you think our parents influence who we are, even if we don't know them?"
The young wizard looked at her frowning.
"Hermione, why do you want to know that?
"It bothers me."
He looked at her yet again, trying to get what her problem was, why all of a sudden she was thinking about something like this. Suddenly he had an idea.
"Are you... are you adopted?"
She grimaced, leaning on his shoulder and snuffling while she explained "My parents told me this holiday. They don't know who my biological parents are. They tried to find out when the Hogwarts letter came when I turned eleven. Trying to find proof of a witch or a wizard in my family but they couldn't. You know, it's pretty much like it's in the muggle world. The child has to request disclosure, and that's not possible until you're off age. And of course the biological parents have to agree."
„And you're thinking about whether you want to know or not?"
"Of course. Just imagine I'm the illegitimate child of Lucius Malfoy or another of these snobbish pureblood bigots."
"So what? You are and will be the same person. I'm related to the Dursleys, I grew up with them. But that doesn't mean I have the urge to trim the lawn with nail scissors, does it? And you won't have the urge to keep up a pureblood lineage, simple as that."
Hermione thought about that while looked at the lake.
"I can't begin a relationship because I don't know whether he might be related to me or not!"
He laughed at that, till Hermione slapped his arm.
"Harry I mean it!"
"When it comes to that you can take care of it. You are our little Hermione and you manage to do everything you want to. Don't worry that much."
"Don't worry that much. Easy for you to say that", murmuring Hermione looked back at the lake.
"Listen, Hermione, I went to something very similar, asked myself the same questions. Several times actually. In second year when everybody called me the heir of Slytherin I even asked the Sorting Hat if he was sure about me being in Gryffindor. And in fifth year when Voldemorts moods began to influence me, and a second time when I saw my father in Snape's memory. But you are and will be who you are.
You know, a wise man once told me it is our choices, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities (CoS). The same applies for blood relatives.
Your parents will always be your parents, does it really matter you don't share the same blood?"
Sometime in the middle of Harrys monologue Hermione began gazing at him with wide eyes.
"Harry Potter, how and when did you become that wise?"
Harry grinned at her weakly „Well, my best friend is incredibly smart, one day something must have rubbed off."
Both of them chuckled till Harrys gaze darkened.
"Also you can't win a war without becoming a little bit wiser."