A/N: I've noticed that I've leaned towards reading certain types of fics lately, and I've surprisingly not seen as much as I would like. So this is what happened! :D So give it a read, and hopefully a review. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING OF THE HARRY POTTER FRANCHISE. I TAKE CREDIT FOR ONLY MY STORY IDEA.
There were many facts that Hermione knew: why the Great Hall at Hogwarts had a bespelled ceiling; how to make a Polyjuice Potion last hours longer; how to enchant muggle electronics so magic could be used safely around them. But two things truly puzzled the brains of the Golden trio:
Who her birth parents were and why she was given up.
When obliviating her parents—her adoptive parents—she had to rifle through their memories in order to fully erase herself from them. In neither of their minds did she find her birth, nor the first two years of her life. It was only a few months after her second birthday, around Christmas time, did she finally come into their lives. The brunette didn't know the face of the person who had dropped her off, but knew the woman wasn't her mother. Hermione knew it in her gut. A relative perhaps? Then why wouldn't she take her in instead of giving her to someone else? In her mind, there was no justification for it, and so dismissed the idea that the woman, a witch based on her attire, had been related to her.
The problem gnawed at her their entire Horcrux hunt, making her irritable and angry. When she wore the locket, it only whispered evil things to her. What if her parents were pureblood? That would show Malfoy and all of those bigots that they had been wrong about her the entire time. But what if her parents were Death Eaters? They could be dead, and then her search would be over. . .or they could be imprisoned. . .
The most terrifying revelation came when they had been snatched and brought to Malfoy Manor. The first time she saw Bellatrix LeStrange—had the other woman's hands on her—there was a spark of connection between the two, their magic dancing with one another in recognition. It startled her enough that the lioness had let her defenses down. Bellatrix obviously felt the same thing she did, but it didn't deter the older woman from torturing her.
Hermione was grateful she made it out alive.
But when she had time to sit and think, she was able to analyze exactly what that connection was. Sitting in Shell Cottage, she had time to rifle through the books Fluer had there while waiting for Harry to be emotionally ready to move on. The books Fluer had were on familial bonds, and what she read had terrified her. It talked about parental/children bonds, the child feeling safe when the parent was near due to familiar magical signatures, and even talked about the magicks that can be summoned up in a time of great duress for the family.
When Ron had been gone during the Hunt, Harry and her had gotten much closer, so she felt no hesitation in finally talking to him about her fears. His advice to her was to not think about it. That they had more pressing things on their plates at the moment. But if it worried her that much, Harry knew the goblins had access to everyone's lineage. She could always contact them. When she had brought up her worry of the Death Eaters patrolling Diagon Alley catching her, Harry's simple answer was: "Why not ask the Goblins?"
That night, Hermione did as Harry suggested, writing as politely as she could, since Griphook was not there to direct her, having left days earlier. She aimed to open a dialogue between her and Gringotts, and could only hope for a favorable response. Almost as soon as the owl set off with her letter, Ron and Harry entered her room. It was time to plan.
Polyjuice Potion. Hermione thought hard about whether she remembered the whole recipe or not.
It wasn't as if they still had Moste Potente Potions nor access to it. With her near photographic memory, she was sure she wouldn't forget anything. "It will take a month to brew," she reminded them. The boys had no problems with the time scale.
Breaking into Gringotts was vastly different than breaking into the Slytherin common room. It shamed her to seek help from the goblins they would then steal from later. But they needed the Horcrux in the vault of Bellatrix LeStrange. The hair she found on herself was long and black, undoubtedly one of Bellatrix's. She hadn't touched the older witch's wand since it was thrown in her beaded bag. If she had to tell the truth, Hermione was terrified, her Gryffindor courage failing her. The fleeting moment of warmth she felt while holding a Death Eater's wand terrified her. It was the same warmth she felt when she had found her own that first day in Ollivander's all those years ago. She wanted answers, but Hermione wasn't sure if she could handle the truth.
The following fortnight saw exchanges between her and the goblins, and a date the day before their planned heist was decided upon for her to meet with the Ancestry and Lineage manager to help her learn who her parents were. As soon as she knew the arangements, Hermione pulled Harry aside.
"Will you come with me to Gringotts?" Without hesitation, he nodded and enveloped her in a hug.
"Hermione, you have nothing to worry about. No matter what happens, I will always be your friend. Knowing your real parents won't change who you are. You will always be Hermione to me." Harry's words allayed her fears. She snuggled in his embrace, but they had to part when they heard footsteps on the stairs.
The door opened and Ron stepped in. "Ron, good. You're here. The Polyjuice Potion will be ready soon. But we're going to need samples from the people you two are changing into."
"Where are we going to get those?" the redhead asked.
"Harry and I need to go to Diagon Alley in a few days, and will be testing out some glamour spells I have been working on. We want you to come with to help pick out your person," Hermione said outright.
"Eh, won't that be dangerous?" Ron asked. "I don't want to get snatched again."
"The glamour charms I will be using will be taking features from all of the Pureblood families, so if someone looks for to long, we will look familiar, but not out of place." she explained, trying to allay her own fears by trying to convince Ron.
"I still don't like this idea," came the redhead's response. There was silence as Hermione thought.
"Did you want to stay behind and look after the potion? It has to be stirred three times counterclockwise at exactly 11am, and three times counterclockwise at exactly 2pm."
"I think I can handle that," Ron replied, nodding. "But you two need to stay safe. I don't want to hear anything about you guys getting captured, alright? I don't think I'm cut out for saving people," he laughed nervously.
The days before her meeting went quickly, and before Hermione knew it, she was applying glamour charms to herself and to Harry. Should anyone stop them, their cover story was of a Purebred couple from France, here for their honeymoon. However, they couldn't get out before the country was locked down, and have had no way to get home. Hermione had opted for black hair with gentle curls with high cheekbones and blue eyes, where Harry kept his hair black, only it was shorter than he was used to. His face was completely changed, his scar gone but his features were modeled after a cross between Draco and Sirius, with a splash of her own father. Their clothes were transfigured into finer material robes, Hermione's made of blue silk like the Beauxbatons school uniforms, and Harry's modeled after a mixture of Lucius' outfit and of a French wizards robes from a pamphlet she had looked at years ago, and she could easily tell Harry felt uncomfortable in it.
"Are you ready, Duc de Noir?" Hermione asked with a smile, taking his hand and squeezing it for comfort.
"As ready as I'll ever be, Duchesse de Noir," he replied with a grin, and as they waved to Ron a farewell and a promise that they would be back, Hermione apparated them into Diagon Alley.
Upon appearing on the apparition point in Diagon Alley, several wands were trained on them. Losing her nerve, Hermione hid her face in Harry's chest. "Identify yourselves!" came the command, and Harry replied as he pried Hermione off of him.
"I am Duc de Noir," he said in the French accent Hermione and Fleur had coached him in the past few weeks. "Zis is my wife, ze Duchasse de Noir." Upon her introduction, Hermione curtsied and offered a small, "Bonjour."
"State your business," came the jab of the center wizard in the group of three, his companions looking in their book of names.
"We are on our 'oneymoon," Harry replied again. The two could almost feel the suspicion pouring off of these Death Eater guards. "We 'ave been trapped 'ere, unable to return 'ome due to ze 'igher security measures."
"What's wrong with her? Why does she not speak?" came the next question as the center man jabbed his wand at Hermione. With a disgusted look on her face, she evaded his wand and stepped behind Harry, her lips sealed shut. They had agreed he would do the talking. . .for now.
"We are pur sang, monsieur. My bride is not so ill-mannered as to speak where she should be silent." Harry felt, in his bones, that what he just said went against everything he believed in, but Hermione had drilled Pureblood politics and customs into his head in order to make their cover believable.
"You are not on our lists," one of the sentries checking the book said, and Harry adopted a disgusted look on his face.
"And we are of a different nation zan zat of ze land we are currently in."
"Why did you come here today?" came the insistent badgering. They just would not give up!
"We 'ave business in Gringotts, and must be going!" Harry snapped back, and the leader's eyes narrowed at his response. His gaze suddenly shot to the so far silent Hermione.
"Make her speak."
"My bride is not 'ere for your amusement," Harry growled, his magic reacting to his temper, making all the men surrounding them take a few steps back.
". . .is she able to speak?" the leader commented, glee filling his eyes, believing he must have caught someone in disguise. Harry and Hermione didn't crack under pressure, however. While scowling, Harry turned to whisper in Hermione's ear.
"What do we do?" he asked, keeping the scowl on his face. Hermione turned to whisper back, her breath tickling his ear.
"Trust me." Turning to face their accusers, Harry and Hermione stood shoulder to shoulder. Hermione began to rattle something off in fluent french, spouting titles and dropping names like it was nobody's business.
"What is she doing?" the leader exclaimed angrily. "Speak English!"
"Unfortunately, she does not know English. My, you Englishmen are so demanding. Never satisfied, are you? We were supposed to work on her English while we were 'ere, 'owever zis country has been most discourteous to us. Now," Harry said, taking Hermione's elbow, "we must be off. If you made us late, zere will be 'ell to pay!" And with that, he breezed past the three stunned wizards, Hermione in tow.
So, what do you all think? :D Leave a review and lemme know! I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts. :)
French:
pur sang- pureblooded
duc/duchesse- duke/duchess, VERY loosely translates to Lord and Lady; meant here as the Duke and Duchess of the Black (family/providence/whatever)
I am in no way formally trained in French, so if those of you who are find offense in my use of it, please let me know how I can make it better.