Of fathers and daughters
Summary: After Arthur Weasley has been attacked, and she meets Neville's mother in the hospital, Hermione worries that her parents may be in danger too. They go into hiding, but not before revealing they adopted Hermione when she was just a few weeks old. Dumbledore assigns Snape as her guardian. Will she find out who her real parents are? And how will Severus cope with the girl who is Harry Potter's friend as a ward? Not a romance!
Spoilers: Up to mid 5th book. Slight AU afterwards.
Author's notes: This is a new kind of project for me. I usually do stand-alone fics. I also challenged myself to write from different points of view. Fingers crossed!
Please review!
Chapter one: Worried people all around
Molly knew she must resemble a headless chicken with the way she fluttered through the house. But this Christmas day had taken its toll on her. A few days before she had thought her husband to be dead. She had been worried dreadfully, but he had survived and was slowly getting better. Oh yes, he would be fine, Molly thought with a huff. Already he was up to his old tricks. Really, to let some apprentice Healer sew his wound back together. Mad, that husband of hers was!
Now her worries and anger had turned into nervous energy that she tried burning by walking though the house, cleaning and making sure everyone was alright. She'd already scared Remus and Nymphadora away, who were talking in the library. She smiled. Nymphadora obviously had the beginnings of a crush, but Remus didn't realize a thing. She wasn't planning on enlightening him, however. She was glad for him. Poor sod deserved a little happiness.
Harry spent as much time as he could with his Godfather. Now they both were playing a game of chess in Sirius' bedroom. Molly encouraged Harry's attempts at cheering Sirius up, (his moods went from excited happiness to gloomy sullenness) so she left them quietly to themselves.
Wisely she also ignored the twin's bedroom. Earlier she had noticed that all the children had gathered in there. She could hear excited whisperings and lots of laughter. If it had been only the twins, she would have barged in and confiscated everything they had been working on. But she hoped that the presence of the others, especially Hermione, would temper them. And if they were planning mischief on that Umbridge person, she would let them. They needed to blow off some steam, and from what Arthur had told her about Dolores Umbridge and how she behaved at the Ministry and beyond, she was a worthy subject. She just hoped her children had the common sense to let their plans stay plans and not to risk their education. Bogus Defense against the Dark Arts teacher or not, Hogwarts was still the best place to learn it all.
Sandwiches, she decided. Her kids would never say no to food. And she needed to feel useful again. She had given up on cleaning this place, it was like a never-ending task. She wondered where Kreacher was. He had been doing an awful job, but then again, the less she saw of that vile house-elf, the better. She made her way to the kitchen.
Where she was very surprised to see Hermione Granger, sitting by the fire. Molly was sure she had seen her enter the twin's room together with the others earlier. Seeing a book on the young girl's lap, she assumed she had left them with the excuse that she wanted to read. But the book lay closed and Hermione was staring into the flames. Molly went to sit next to her on the bench.
"Are you alright dear?" She asked, worried.
Startled, Hermione looked up at her. "Yeah sure, I'm fine." But she didn't look it.
Now that she thought of it, the younger children had been very subdued when they had came back from the coffee room.
"Did something happen in the hospital?" She asked, following her hunch.
"We met Gilderoy Lockhart. He kind of remembered us from school and then dragged us into his ward."
Yes, meeting their former teacher would have been slightly awkward, especially for her youngest son whose malfunctioning wand had caused most of his damage. But she felt there was something more. She looked at Hermione, waiting for her to continue.
"We met Neville Longbottom's mother." She finally said, in a very quiet voice. "They were tortured …"
Molly winced at the memory. "With the Cruciatus Curse, yes. The attack on them was horrible. They were very good people, Hermione. Successful Aurors. Wonderful parents. Good friends."
"Poor, poor Neville. She hardly recognize him." Hermione sobbed.
Molly drew her into an embrace. Poor Neville indeed. And poor children who had yet again been confronted with the effects of the war that had been and that would soon be again. No matter how grown-up they already were, they were still too young for what they had been thrown into. Hermione should be at home with her parents, having fun and being showered with Christmas presents, not sitting here alone in this haunted house crying her eyes out.
"You miss your parents, don't you?" She asked suddenly. Molly knew that she had had plans to travel with her parents. Ron had sent her an owl telling her Hermione was going to glide from snowy mountains. She assumed it was fun for Muggles. But then Arthur had gotten hurt en Hermione had joined them.
Hermione nodded.
"Nobody would have blamed you if you had gone home this holiday." But she had the feeling Hermione would have blamed herself. Ever since the three of them had became friends, they had been nearly inseparable. The poor girl probably thought it was her duty to protect her friends and to sacrifice her own happines for them.
"Mrs Weasley?" She asked. "Do you think they're safe?"
Molly was confused: all her friends were upstairs, weren't they. "Who, dear?"
"My parents. Are they in danger from You-kn… Voldemort? Because they are Muggles? Because of me?"
Hermione was shaking now. With guilt, Molly realized. She could understand where the idea had came from. The girl had been at the World Cup; she had seen what the likes of Lucius Malfoy did to innocent Muggles. She also had a high profile as Harry's friend: all the Deatheaters knew, through the stories of their own children at Hogwarts. The Howler had even made her famous by telling the worlds she was Harry's off and on girlfriend. Not that that was true.
"I don't know." She answered truthfully. "Right now, He-who-must-not-be-named is obsessed with finding… with hurting Harry. But that doesn't mean his followers won't try to hurt you."
"Because I'm close to him." Hermione said, without a trace of bitterness in her voice.
"Because you are important in this blasted war too." She meant it. "Wars are not won by one person." Harry might be the key into defeating You-know-who, but his followers would not be stopped by the prophesy alone.
"They don't even know."
"What, dear?" An emotional Hermione, Molly experienced, was not a very clear one.
"Anything, everything... All they know about this world is what I tell them. And I only tell them about the good stuff. About school, and Quidditch..."
Nothing that would worry them in the least, Molly translated: nothing like fighting trolls, facing basilisks and evil megalomaniac wizards returning from the death. "It's ok." She soothed her. "You didn't want them to worry."
"And now they know nothing." Hermione continued, not showing any sign she had heard Molly. They would even invite a Deatheater into the house, if they told them they knew me, because they know no better. How can I protect them?" She sounded desperate.
"They might not even be in danger." Molly tried to sooth her again, but even she felt how feeble the attempt was. Hermione was not fooled. Molly sighed. She didn't have an answer.
"I'll talk to Moody." She eventually promised. If even paranoid Mad-Eye didn't see a cause for worry, Hermione's parents would be safe. If not, the Order could find a solution. Hermione's thoughts seemed to echo her own, because she nodded slowly in agreement.
"All right then." Molly stood and clapped her hands. "I need to make some sandwiches. Do you want to help?"
She got a feeble smile. But after a while Hermione's mood changed. She was lured back into conversation; mostly asking Molly about her OWLs and how they had gone. But she was glad she got her son's friend to smile again.
If only all the problems in the world could be fixed with a smile…