Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I just play with the characters

I'm very excited to share my first Harry Potter fanfiction and hope you all enjoy reading it! Reviews are appreciated and make me happy :)

All the thanks to BattlemageABK for being my beta and wrangling my apostrophises, all mistakes are my own.

The Odd Things

Chapter One

Hermione Jean Granger jolted awake. She'd had another nightmare, one that had now become a norm for her. Her heart was pounding hard and fast. And all she could remember of it as usual was a baby's voice calling out for its "dada" and a second voice, a deep male voice calling out her name. She'd had this dream for as long as she could remember, and like all those other times, she got up to find the one person in the world who understood: her brother, Harry.

They'd always assumed they were related. They looked kind of similar and they had matching scars on their foreheads. Their last names however were different. He was Harry Potter and she Hermione Granger. Although, from what they'd been told, even that wasn't certain. One social worker had revealed that Hermione had been admitted under another surname, but since then that social worker had gone away. Shame, Hermione had actually liked that one. She'd bugged the other social workers and adults for answers however had been stonewalled at every attempt.

"Harry." Hermione whispered climbing into the bottom bunk that had belonged to him for the last six months of that placement.

"Nightmare?" Harry replied groggily.

"Yeah." She sighed snuggling into her brother.

"Same one?"

"Yeah."

"Wish you could remember more… Then maybe…" Harry trailed off, his fingers running through his sister's curly black hair.

"Me too."

They'd had this same conversation hundreds of times before. Maybe if she could remember then they'd know more, like who they were and where they came from. Have a definite answer as to whether they were truly brother or sister. Although both would say vehemently it didn't matter, blood or not they were brother and sister. They just wanted to know about their family. Probably like every other orphan ever.

They'd only ever been apart once. For three weeks when Harry was five and Hermione was six. They'd been put into separate foster homes, but both had been taken back when neither would settle without the other. The odd things that happened around them – whenever they were scared or anxious – also contributed to their return.

Odd things that couldn't be explained.

Like their hair for example. It was always the same, no matter how much it was cut, in the morning they'd wake up and it would be the same length as before. If someone tried to style their hair it pinged back like magic minutes later.

Another odd thing was that sometimes, if they really wanted to, if something bad was going to happen, or someone was chasing them, it was almost like they could become invisible, even if they were standing out in the open – if they wanted to. Around them clothes would mend themselves, favourite teddy bears that had been lost forever were found and there was suddenly enough treats for everybody.

Then there was the Jones'. They didn't talk about that though. Ever. Never ever.

The last few months they'd been experimenting with these 'odd things', as they'd dubbed it. They wanted to see if they could make things happen if they wanted to. Do the odd things on purpose. They both panicked a little when their make-believe game suddenly wasn't a make-believe game at all. They could really do the odd things.

Hermione had been the first; making tiny little blue flames appear in her hands.

Harry had then made it rain… indoors… on them and only them.

"Try and get some sleep 'Mione," Harry whispered, his motions of stroking Hermione's hair slowing as sleep started to claim them.

~0~0~

"How did this happen Albus?!" A furious Minerva McGonagall snapped, pacing his office. Albus was starting to fear for his sweet assortment, as he'd done numerous times. When his deputy was this mad – which fortunately wasn't often – his supply tended to vanish overnight. His left socks normally went missing at the same time as well.

"I am as perplexed as you are, my dear Minerva. I certainly never imagined that the Dursley's would take Harry to an orphanage. I truly believed that Lily's sister would take pity on him and grant him sanctuary, if not a loving home," Dumbledore said with a weary sigh.

"But Hermione? You knew they would take her to that place!?" Minerva stopped pacing to level him with a stare that could cower Godric Gryffindor himself.

"I had hoped that the Dursley's would find it in their hearts to shelter her as well," Albus said, not even daring to meet her gaze over his half-moon spectacles.

"This is madness! She should have been given to Kingsley Shacklebolt, Albus! He is going to go up the wall when he finds out! He thought they were both safe! You told him that Harry and Hermione would grow up together and that he could have contact as soon as he returned, which he did three days ago to find neither hide nor hair of the girl. We have no idea where either of them is, or if they are together!" Albus sighed once more. He would be wearing odd socks for the foreseeable future it seemed.

He shouldn't have been using Mrs Figg to watch over Harry. He knew that she wasn't the most reliable of sources, but she was honest and trustworthy. She'd told him of a boy being looked after by the Dursleys, and he'd wrongly assumed it had been Harry. His plans were already slipping by the wayside. He'd failed to give much thought to Hermione, and when Mrs Figg had said that she had seen other children visiting Number Four Privet Drive, he'd assumed Hermione had been one of them. It seemed that he had assumed too much. Maybe he should take stock of that old muggle saying.

"It should be easy enough to find them-" Albus was cut off by Minerva.

"Them? Kingsley is Hermione's godfather Albus! What's worse is that we don't even know if Harry and Hermione are aware of each other, much less if Kingsley would take them together! And you seem to be forgetting that she isn't under her real last name! We don't even know her bloody name Albus!" Minerva was shouting now causing Albus to flinch. It was very rare for Minerva to lose control of anything, her temper included. Very rare indeed. He was starting to think that socks would be the least of his issues.

"Give me till tomorrow Minerva, I will use every resource available to me to track Hermione and arrange a meeting between her and Mr. Shacklebolt. I will of course discuss with Kingsley and the orphanage the matter of Harry and his placement as well." Albus offered. He was hoping that he could accomplish these things before his Deputy Head did something drastic. He was also hoping that he hadn't ruined the only shot at salvation their world had, what if Harry's placement in the orphanage had damaged him as it had done Tom?

"You better Albus!" The Scottish witch snapped before turning on her heel and marching from the headmaster's office. How she managed to slam a stone gargoyle shut, Dumbledore would never know.

He sighed, waving a hand to call out his pensive. Dumbledore then placed the tip of his wand to his temple and drew out the memory he'd watched many times over the years. After the white strands had landed in the bowl, he dipped his face in to view again.

"The one with the power to vanquish-"

~0~0~

"Harry! Harry! Oi! HARRY!" Hermione grinned as she caught up with her brother in the corridor leading to the paltry garden with its broken toys and a solitary working swing. She'd been asked to be in a meeting with their social worker, alone. Not completely unusual but not the norm either.

"What's up 'Mione?" Harry asked.

"We need to smarten up! We've got a meeting this afternoon!" Hermione was grinning widely as she spoke. This surprised Harry as it wasn't often that they had much to smile about.

"About what? Did Derick grass us up for last night?" Harry asked with a frown. Derick, Harry's roommate was normally alright with both Harry and her. He understood, having a half-brother himself.

"No, I've got a Godfather. He's coming to meet with us!"

Hermione couldn't stop smiling. All her dreams – well sort of – were coming true. A long-lost family! Finally, they would learn about their pasts, about who they were and all about their family. They'd finally get the answers they'd been searching for almost all of their lives.

"What!? Really?" Harry's eyes lit and the green in them seemed to twinkle.

"Really, really! He'll be here after lunch. His name is Mr. Shacklebolt. That's all I know… but! This is so exciting! You should wear your red jumper, you look smart in that. I'll wear my red dress, the one that used to be Sophie Fowlers." Hermione knew she was babbling but was unable to stop. It wasn't like they had much choice in what to wear, they had maybe four outfits each, but she wanted them to look the best they could. Maybe if they looked smart and were polite, he'd visit again? If he was nice anyway. If he wasn't, they wouldn't have to have anything to do with him and he probably wouldn't want to seem them again anyway.

"Hang on a sec Hermione," Harry frowned a little. "He's your Godfather, right?" Hermione nodded. "Then maybe he won't want to see me. He might not even know me. We still don't know…"

"Mr. Tufftick said he'd see both of us. Mr. Shacklebolt knows about you Harry. He knows both of us. Or he did when we were babies anyway."

Harry's eyes lit up once more and Hermione knew exactly what he was thinking. If this man knew both of them… Well, they had to be real brother and sister. Right?

"Okay, I'll go get my red jumper then?" Harry grinned.

~0~0~

Kingsley Shacklebolt sat in the visitors' lounge feeling more than a little uncomfortable. The chairs were a bit on the small side for his large frame and waiting to see his goddaughter for the first time in eight years had left him feeling unprecedently uneasy. What if she was angry with him? She had every right to be. She should be.

If Albus ruddy Dumbledore had actually used what little sense his mother had beaten into him then this meeting would have happened eight years ago, or it would have taken place in a nice family home where he'd been led to believe his goddaughter had been.

If only he had just… He sighed. There was little point in recriminations now. What was done was done. He would just have to make it up to Hermione the best he could.

Would she even remember him? He supposed not, she'd only been two when it had all happened after all.

Kingsley wondered who she'd look like, would she still take after her father or would she have grown into some of her mothers' looks? He wasn't sure which would be worse. Whose ghost it would be harder to see?

Since he'd found out where Hermione was, after he'd finished blasting holes in things, he'd prayed that she'd been looked after. The room that he was currently waiting in held no clues as to the fact. It looked like any other meeting room in any other government facility, muggle or magical, foreign or domestic. The stern woman who'd met him at the front door of the care home, not orphanage as she'd waspishly corrected him, hadn't seemed warm and loving and didn't have him holding out much hope for Hermione's wellbeing. He'd been there for nearly ten minutes before the door opened and two small children were shown in.

Both seemed tiny to him, small and too skinny. If he hadn't known any better Kingsley would have said the children were siblings. Both had black hair, his messy despite an obvious effort to flatten it, hers a mass of curls, that she'd obviously tried and failed to control. Both had pale – too pale he thought- skin, high cheekbones and had matching scars on their foreheads. It was unnerving how similar they were.

Despite their similarities, it was the small differences that were glaringly obvious to Kingsley. Hermione's grey eyes against Harry's vivid green ones, Harry's angular jaw line and Hermione's almost heart shaped face. To most others these differences would be negligible but to Kingsley they were small wounds to his heart.

They were clutching each other's hands and were very obviously nervous and very in sync with the other. They moved as unit, two halves to a whole. Suddenly Kingsley knew, without any doubt, that if he wanted to take Hermione and raise her as he should have been doing for the past eight years then Harry would be coming too. If this meeting went well, as he was hoping it would, then he'd be going from a single, mildly successful Auror to a parent of two. He was determined although slightly unnerved by the thought.

"Hello Hermione. Hello Harry," Kingsley said with a small smile for the children who were both dressed in red. The clothes were clearly old and worn but serviceable and clean. He could see that the pair had obviously made an effort and was strangely touched by that.

"Mr. Shacklebolt." Both children said at the same time with polite smiles. They walked over to the seating area and sat in a sofa opposite him in sync. There was certainly no splitting these two up.

"Call me Kingsley," He said.

"You're my godfather, right?" Hermione asked hesitantly, Kingsley saw Harry grip her hand tighter.

"Yes, I am," Kingsley said with a small smile, she was certainly straight to the point and that was what he needed to be as well. He gathered his courage and took a deep breath before talking and breaking the slightly awkward silence that had befallen the trio.

"I need to apologise Hermione. I should have been there for you, for both of you and for that I am deeply sorry. I have been working out of the country and was given assurances that you were both being well taken care of by a family. I am sorry that I personally didn't check that. If I'd have known otherwise, I'd have been there."

He needed to say that, he'd hate for Hermione to think that he hadn't or didn't care… hate for either of them to think that. Even more so because it wasn't anywhere near true.

"We were supposed to be with a family?" Harry asked. "I didn't think we had any family?"

"That isn't strictly true. I was told that you, both, were being looked after by your aunt and uncle Harry. Your mother's sister." Kingsley said as gently as he could. The Dursley's were almost as low as Death Eaters in his eyes but he couldn't let his biases show he couldn't predict whether Harry would want a relationship with his only living relatives now or further down the line and he was not about to let his feelings cloud or sway Harry's decisions. Thank Merlin for his training.

"My aunt and uncle? So 'Mione and I? We aren't… she isn't my sister?" Both looked close to tears and moved almost impossibly closer to each other.

"No. Not biologically," Kingsley said as gently as he could, this was obviously news they had been dreading. "But when you were little you spent, five out of seven days together, slept in the same crib, played the same games. You would have grown up as close as any siblings, just as you are now."

"So… Our parents were friends?" Hermione asked very quietly. She seemed the quieter of the pair, even if marginally.

Kingsley sighed, he'd known that he'd have to explain their history to them when Dumbledore – he struggled not to snarl even thinking the name – had told him where they were, he had been hoping though that he could put it off for a little while, they were both still so young. There would be no easy way to explain anything to them, especially as the only person who could explain why was… unreachable.

"Your dad's… They were as close as brothers. Your dad Hermione, was Harry's godfather and your dad, Harry, was Hermione's other godfather, though he did use to say that he was Hermione's godmother." Kingsley allowed himself a small smile of remembrance as the children smiled at each other. Not all the past, despite how it often felt, had been bad.

"What about our mum's? Were they friends too?" Harry asked a little bit more excited now. This was the other bit that Kingsley had desperately wanted to avoid. Hermione's mother, Eulalia.

"They didn't really know each other," Kingsley admitted. "Your mum and dad Hermione, they weren't exactly… What I mean is that they were both very excited about you and they both loved you very, very much. Don't ever doubt that… But… Well they..." How the hell was he supposed to explain this to a nine-year-old? He wasn't qualified for one, let alone two. What had Eulalia been thinking?

"They weren't together?" Hermione guessed, her tone unreadable, even for him.

"No, they weren't," Kingsley admitted. An alarm trilled out from his muggle sports watch. They only had twenty minutes or so left of the meeting and he still had much more to discuss with the children. He started again, "I know you both have lots of questions, and I will certainly do my best to answer them. Now though the main reason I'm here is to see if… Well I am your guardian and your parents wanted me to look after you…" This was harder than he'd thought, he rubbed the back of his neck trying to take away some of the tension he was feeling there.

"I'm not going anywhere without Harry." Hermione said firmly, although her voice was still quiet. She'd squared her shoulders and straightened her back as she looked up at Kingsley. The auror himself could see through her expression: she did not want to remain at the "care home", but there was no way he was taking her and leaving Harry.

"No, 'Mione-" Harry protested apparently guessing what was going on.

"I will not leave you!" Hermione's hair started sizzling with her apparent anger. Blue flames? Lightning? Was flickering at the bottom of her hair and flickering up her head.

"'Mione!" Harrys eyes were wide, cutting glances at Kingsley at Hermione's blatant display of magic, his hand reaching out and grabbing the back of her dress, his body tensed as he pulled her back slightly, away from Kingsley and closer towards himself. The auror was not fazed by the girl's display of magic, in fact, he would say he was rather relieved that it existed in the pair.

"Calm down Hermione. I would not split you up. The offer is for the both of you." The effect those words had was miraculous.

"Really?" Hermione's hair had stopped sparking, instead her eyes lit up in a way that despite being grey rather than blue, reminded Kingsley of Eulalia like a punch to the gut.

"You mean it?" Harry added with a wide grin.

"I mean it," Kingsley said with a nod.

"Have you got a house-"

"When can we move in-"

"Do you need us to do anything-"

"We're great at cleaning-"

"Stronger than we look too!"

Harry and Hermione spoke as though they had one mind, each finishing the other's sentences and thoughts.

"I'll have to look at what houses are available to us and whether they are suitable or not, I've only been back in the country for four days. As soon as that and the paperwork is done, then we can move in." Kingsley gave a small, genuine smile at the looks of joy on Harry and Hermione's face. "So, what? A couple of days maybe?"

"No, paperwork-"

"Takes ages-"

"Donny Peters – "

"He had to wait-"

"Four weeks-"

"To move in with his mum."

They way the children finished each other's sentences gave Kingsley pause. He couldn't shake the feeling that somehow it was related to their magic, rather than a natural bond between two 'siblings'. He would have to do some research on the matter.

"Don't you two worry about paperwork. I bet I can make it go through just like magic." The auror smirked as the stern woman came back to let them all know the meeting was up and she needed the room back.

Review and let me know what you think, hopefully you'll join me for more next week :)