Ch. 1
"I'm sorry for pulling you out when term has just started. I already spoke with the Headmistress about this so you're not in trouble."
"What's happened, Mum?"
"We're moving back to England."
"What?"
Hermione didn't seem to mind her daughter's reaction as she glanced at the child's messy hair that didn't look like hers at all. She waved her wand so it covers her daughter's hair in a silver mist that reveals its real color.
"I'm finally meeting my father?"
"If you're lucky. I hear he's not even in England at the moment."
"Where'd he go?"
"I don't know, sweetheart. But come on, pack your bags, we leave for England in an hour. The English Ministry has given me a job. I honestly did not want to take it but since you entered Beauxbatons you've been pestering me about your father so I figured, this is the chance to introduce him to you."
"Finally."
"Will you promise to be good when you get to Hogwarts? I'm taking you to the Headmistress tomorrow, and we'll sort out your transfer officially."
With a flick of her wand, her daughter's features once again turned into that of hers. "Can I keep looking like this, though? Please, Mum. I look like a stranger when I'm wearing my blonde hair."
Hermione laughed at the word. Stranger. How could this child think of such?
And so their journey back to England commenced. Hermione remembered the time when she cooed a baby into sleep as the train to Paris dwindled from the lens of London. She had raised her daughter amongst the French. When she was eleven, she had received two letters confirming her invitation to Hogwarts and Beauxbatons. Hogwarts, because the school never missed a heartbeat of a witch or wizard born from the blood of their alumni; and Beauxbatons because, naturally, she was raised there as a French citizen. Plus, Hermione is friends with the Headmistress of the school, having helped out on so many assignments back in her days in the English Ministry.
She had asked Fleur to help them find lodgings in Paris until she finds a house where she can properly raise her baby. She landed a job at the French Ministry of Magic, which now leads us to this moment.
She glanced at her daughter holding a notebook by her lap, her chin resting on the palm of her hand, and watching the scenery pass them by. Her notebook had her initials engraved: H.A.J. Granger. Even her luggage had the same initials. One time, her daughter told her, "Mum, you shouldn't have given three names. We could've had the same initials!"
Hermione's reputation reached even the farthest depths of the French Ministry. Her colleagues admired her for her deeds in the War, having been one of the legendary trio and of course, brightest witch of their age, and still is. It's no wonder her daughter idolized her, that she made it a point to engrave her initials on each of her belongings. Ever since she was taught how to read, her daughter would spend hours in her library and one day, when she was six, she discovered a spell that can change her features the way she wanted to.
Hermione smiled at the memory, for she was horrified and was at the same time in awe, of her daughter's brilliance. The spell was a bit complex for a child, and just thinking about it filled her with pride, knowing that she is bright and full of talent.
Now she's taking her back to England, and she's worried about her inevitable meeting with her father.
"You're not very chatty today." Hermione said.
"I miss my friends."
"I'm sure they miss you too. It's not goodbye, love. You can go visit them when you come of age. Alone, might I add. Isn't that exciting?"
Her daughter's pale face suddenly filled with color. "Really?"
"Yes. But you have to promise to send me an owl everyday."
The child laughed. It was the sound of nymphs singing and dancing around a pond, making it bright and full of life.
The next day, Hermione found herself traversing the same halls towards the Headmistress' office, with a fifteen-year-old in tow. She noticed heads turning in their direction, particularly, to her daughter, who carried herself so regal and elegant, she wasn't sure if it was the Beauxbatons upbringing or her blood doing the job.
As expected, Headmistress McGonagall stood in the doorway of her office, her lips pressed in a quaint smile.
"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall."
"Nice to see you again, Miss Granger. You look well. This must be your daughter? Oh, how charming." The old witch remarked.
"Pleased to meet you, Headmistress."
McGonagall smiled at the greeting. "Come now young Miss Granger, you need an orientation before dinner is upon us."
"Of course."
By the time dinner arrived, Hermione had already sent for her daughter's luggage, and packed in her favourite sweets just in case.
The Great Hall was now filled with students dressed in robes for the occasion. The start of the year feast. And the sorting.
Hermione's daughter was to be sorted amongst the first years, as Beauxbatons did not really have the same housing methods as Hogwarts, so, following protocol, McGonagall suggested it's best she wears the Sorting Hat later that evening, even though she's already in her fourth year.
Several heads turned as she walked at the back of the line of the frightened first years. Her usual tall and proud demeanour made her stand out even more than she already does.
"She's beautiful." Several people from the table of Ravenclaw exclaimed. The people from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had their jaws drop to unattractive proportions, whilst the people from Slytherin eyed her hungrily like wolves ready to devour their prey.
The students arranged themselves to be sorted under the Sorting Hat, this time, Professor Neville Longbottom held it instead of McGonagall.
"When I call your name, step forward and you will be sorted to your houses."
The students complied. The tables cheered as one, two, three and more joined their ranks. And then it was time for the last student to be sorted, the tall brown-haired girl they were all so eager to get to know.
"Granger, Heléna Alexandria Jean."
The tall brown-haired girl sat on the stool and it was the longest time the Hat had ever spent on sorting a child to the best house.
"You have a kind heart, and a brave soul. Your mind speaks volumes I haven't heard since-" The hat gasped. "What's this? An odd mixture this is!" It cackled in delight. "Best be… Slytherin!"
The rest of the Great Hall fell silent whilst the Slytherin table roared into excitement.
Almost in a flash, the moment she joined the Slytherin table, Albus Potter walked up to her and shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you at last, Hera. Aunt Hermione's told us a lot about you in her letters."
Hera gasped in delight. "Albus! Not wreaking havoc today, I see?" The two laughed.
"I see Aunt Hermione also told you about me. How would your Mum feel now that you're in Slytherin?"
"Oh, she's cool with whatever."
The rest of the table watched the banter while they ate dinner. They all seemed so puzzled at how the troublemaker is instantly friends with the new kid. But then they remembered that the names Potter and Granger were often mentioned together in their own parents' conversations. So it's no surprise, really.
Classes the next day were interesting. Having been brought up in France, Hera thought she'd be having a hard time catching up with the lessons, most of which covers England and the rest of the world.
But to her delight she found the lessons extremely easy to the point of annoyance. She makes a mental note to write to her Mum the moment she gets off her last class for the day, thanking her for her tutelage at home.
"Miss Granger!" She heard someone call from behind. She turned and saw Professor Longbottom, her teacher in Herbology.
"Professor Longbottom! Sir." She smiled, regal as she was.
Neville laughed. "You know, when I invited your mother to my wedding ten years ago, she told me she couldn't come because she has to look after her daughter. I never thought I'd be seeing said daughter in Hogwarts! I'm glad she decided to move you two back here. When you write to her, please tell her that my wife Luna and I send our love."
"Will do, Professor."
"See you in class. I hear you're brilliant with potions back in Beauxbatons, but I wonder if you're as sharp in determining which herb goes where when preparing tonics for tricky maladies."
Hera laughed. "I hope I don't disappoint you, Professor."
When Professor Longbottom was no longer in sight, she checked her schedule and saw that they had double Defense Against the Dark Arts with Gryffindor, which made her extremely excited, not only because this was her favourite class but she gets to meet people from her mother's house.
She allowed herself to be taken with the flow of students entering the dungeons towards Professor Zabini's office, where they'll be holding classes for the whole semester.
When they entered, she was surprised to see the exact opposite of what her Mum's Defense classroom looked like. It was a wide classroom lit with minimalist chandeliers. There were no jars of potions or rancid elements decorating the walls, instead there were cabinets with boxes of varying sizes inside, arranged so it looked like organized chaos.
"Good afternoon, fourth-years." Greeted a deep voice from the dark side of the classroom.
"Afternoon, Professor."
Hera knew Professor Zabini, from her mother's stories. He was her father's friend. She wondered what kind of people her father made friends with.
When Professor Zabini emerged from the dark, she noticed that he was wearing a shiny Slytherin pin on his robes.
The professor scanned the room as if to check if everyone's in, when he noticed Hera.
"You must be the transfer student from Beauxbatons." He said.
"I am, Professor."
"Granger." He said, almost as if finding answers as to why her name is Granger and not something else.
To make light of the uncomfortable situation, Hera looked Zabini in the eye and casted a wordless spell to change the color of her eyes. She saw Zabini blink in shock, but pretended nothing happened. Another wordless spell, and her eyes reverted back to its deep brown hue.
Zabini cleared his throat in an attempt to regain his composure, then proceeded to quiz Hera of the different hexes to use on various predicaments.
She did not disappoint.
The professor scoffed. "Ever the know-it-all, your mother was. And as it were, it appears you are as well."
"I am my mother's daughter, Sir."
Everyone gaped in awe, and Hera held her chin proudly, just as she always did.
And so Hera had established a reputation for herself in Hogwarts. It's quite the opposite from when she was in Beauxbatons but she thought, it will do.
In a fortnight, she had herself fully adjusted to the environment in Hogwarts and has even befriended the librarian, a feat even her Mum could not achieve.
At breakfast, one morning, a parcel came from Harry and Ginny Potter, welcoming her to Hogwarts and congratulating her for being in Slytherin. Albus must have told them, she thought. Then, a red-haired girl in her fifth year wearing her Gryffindor robes and carrying her top-of-the-line broom approached her and gave her a parcel as well.
"Hullo, Hera. Can I call you Hera?"
Hera laughed. "You must be Daisy. Uncle Ron's daughter?"
Daisy laughed at the younger witch' intuition. "You know me!"
"Of course, I do. Mum tells me everything Uncle Ron and Uncle Harry write about their children, naturally."
"I was going to talk to you after your sorting, but Albus beat me to it. I'm sorry we couldn't hang out as often as we'd like, fifth years are kind of busy and well, you know Albus gets into trouble all the time, plus I have Quidditch."
"Yeah. I'm glad he doesn't get expelled though. Hey, let me guess. You're the keeper?"
"Nah, chaser."
"But Aunt Ginny is a Keeper! Uncle Ron was too!"
Daisy laughed. "I like chasing bludger better than kicking a quaffle away from the hoops. It's a stressful job. But don't tell Aunt Ginny that."
"The trio's kids mingling with each other. Of course." A Slytherin fourth-year walked up to Daisy and Hera.
"Hello, Zabini. Nice to see you're still as vile as ever."
"And you, Weasley." The girl nodded. "Ah, Heléna Granger. Hermione Granger's daughter."
Hera merely looked at the Zabini girl, and asked, casually. "And you are?"
"Prima Zabini. Pleased to meet you."
"And you."
"I'll see you in the common room, Frenchy."
Hera merely smiled.
"Are you two enemies?" She asks Daisy.
"Not quite. She's the Slytherin team's chaser and I am Gryffindor's. Suffice it to say we're out for each other's necks this season."
"That's nice."
"Do you play much?"
Hera grinned. "A little."
"Don't think I don't know that you own a Lightning Bolt now, Granger. Aunt Mione asked for Dad's and Uncle Harry's opinion before buying you one."
Hera smiled sheepishly. "You got me."
"That's pretty expensive stuff! And fast!"
"I know! Mum was fidgety when we got home. It almost felt like she'd return it to the shop while I'm asleep. She doesn't like spending money, that woman."
The two girls laughed.
Later, in the Slytherin common room, Hera sat with Prima Zabini, as promised.
"So Frenchy, I hear you're in my Dad's class."
"Yeah."
"Do you enjoy Defense Against the Dark Arts much?"
"Is this your idea of small talk?"
Prima scoffed. "There it is."
Hera merely stared blankly as an answer.
"Heléna, do you mind? If I call you Heléna?"
"No."
"You look so familiar. I think you look like someone I know. I can't remember who, exactly, but I get this feeling that we should be friends."
Hera looked at Prima, her eyes quizzical. "Sure." She lent out a hand which Prima gladly received.
Weeks passed in Hogwarts and Hera is finding herself rather bored and annoyed without her usual routine in Beauxbatons. She decided to take out her Lightning Bolt and take a stroll at the Forbidden Forest, because what thrill would the Quidditch arena bring? There are no obstacles, unlike the Forbidden Forest, which is full of branches and possibly deadly snakes.
Maybe I'll drop by Hagrid's hut on my way. She thought. But then she flew over the hut, completely forgetting about her plan to visit Hagrid, when she saw the lush green covering the jagged horizon that is the forbidden forest.
Meanwhile, the Headmistress stood by her window, watching the scene with her binoculars, smiling to herself. "We have another troublemaker in Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore."
The portrait directly above McGonagall's desk let out a raspy chuckle. "Whose troublemaker? Is it Potter's again?"
"No. Granger."
Dumbledore let out another longer raspy chuckle. "It's your lot now, Headmistress."
"It looks like Gryffindor will have a hard time winning the House Cup this year, Professor."
"Does it? Interesting."
Hera bolted through the branches, letting the air rush to her cheeks, dodging, maneuvering over leaves, testing her limit.
When she was done, it was dusk, and she already has grazes on her arms and cheeks from the branches she failed to dodge. With a tap of her wand, her grazes started healing.
"Glad you didn't miss dinner." Prima sat beside her in the Great Hall, holding a book of fairy tales.
"What are you reading?"
"Just some Muggle stuff. I honestly don't understand how they write these stories and half of the things here are rubbish but…"
Hera tilted the book so she can see the cover. "Fairy tales, huh. Those are pretty cool. Have you read that story where the girl gets raped in her sleep? That's just twisted."
"I know! It's infuriating! Do all Muggles read this growing up? Because I don't think I'd advise my future children to."
Hera laughed. "Same."
Just then, Prima saw Hera holding what looked like an oddly shaped guitar case. "What's that?"
"Broom."
"Oh. Neat."
"Mum had it made for me. She hated the sound of it scraping the floors at home." By home, she meant the one in Paris.
"My Mum used to hate your Mum, just because Uncle Draco didn't really pay attention to her because he was so caught up on hating Hermione Granger. She had a big crush on him. It's a wonder how she and Dad became husband and wife."
Hera glanced at Prima. "Uncle…Draco?"
"Draco Malfoy. He's my Dad's best friend. He's also my godfather."
"Really? What's he like?"
"I don't remember. I never saw him in person. Just in pictures. And Mum and Dad used to tell me stories about him from when Dad first came back here from Siberia. He seems nice."
"How is he your godfather?"
"He and Dad made a pact to stay alive until their children get grandchildren. To never die, in summary. And as they're best mates or stuff, they promised to be godfathers to each other's firstborn and… well. A bit childish but, here we are."
Then, that makes Professor Zabini my godfather? Hera thought to herself.
"Dad received an owl from him, you know. Just last week. I think he's coming home. This cardigan that I'm wearing is from him, actually."
Hera paused to examine the sheer clothing her new friend has on and knew that it was expensive from the material it was made of. Not that she was much of a fashionista herself, but Beauxbatons just wove it in their curriculum that students must learn to dress well, and so she was trained of the art and all the intricacies it involved.
"Prima, when did you say your godfather was coming back?"
"I didn't. I don't know. I have to ask Dad."
"Oh." Hera rose from her seat and waved Prima goodbye, saying she was supposed to write to her Mum hours ago.
And so she went to the dungeons, where the Slytherin common room is, and the passageway to her dorm. Upon entering the room she shared with two older Slytherin girls, she summoned a quill and a piece of parchment and scribbled in rapid-fire cursive, never minding if she mixed French with English, knowing her Mum would understand both languages.
She sent word to her Mum that her father was actually coming home, but the date is still uncertain. She basically narrated everything she did in the past month in Hogwarts, how she doesn't enjoy it now especially since the food is "too greasy" and is "bound to make me sick later on." In her excitement, she let it slip that she went flying recklessly over and through the forbidden forest. She didn't deliberately say the words, but she knows her Mum READS between the lines. Only when she had sent the owl to the Ministry did she realize her mistake.
The next morning, Hera woke up dreading a howler. Her Mum used to tell her about how her Uncle Ron got a howler from Nana Weasley when he and Uncle Harry drove the Weasley car all the way to Hogwarts only to get smashed by the Whomping Willow. Aunt Ginny reckons it was frightful and embarrassing.
"Merlin, please don't let Mum send a howler." She prayed.
Hera arrived at the Great Hall earlier than Prima, as usual. She doesn't quite understand why it's so hard for her friend to wake up on time.
"Is that a French thing? You waking up earlier than literally everyone?" Prima once asked.
"Madame Maxime doesn't tolerate tardiness."
"Neither does McGonagall."
"You should really work on that." Hera said, pertaining to Prima's sleeping habits.
"I should."
Breakfast came and owls started zooming into the Great Hall in search of their receivers. A snowy white owl found Hera and surprisingly, it did not carry a howler. Instead, it carried a parcel that looked like it might be pieces of clothing wrapped in a neat bundle.
She opened the parcel to reveal a set of dress robes with matching shoes. It looked like her Mum had it made. A note fell on the table beside her soup. It read: "There's a ball in the Ministry if you should like to come. Professor McGonagall has been notified of the occasion and I heard a lot of kids from Hogwarts are coming with their parents. You should come too. I want you to meet your Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron. There's a designated teacher to accompany students to the Ministry. The meeting time is 5, at the entranceway. Don't be late. Bring a coat with you. Love, Mum"
"Hey Prima!" She called out to her friend who had just now arrived to the Great Hall.
"Yeah?"
"Where does your Mum work?"
"Ministry."
"So you're coming to the ball?"
Just then an owl carrying a similar parcel arrived and dropped the package on top of Prima's head, which Hera caught because the latter's reflexes are still asleep, apparently.
Prima opened the parcel revealing a note and a set of dress robes. She looked at Hera's parcel and shrugged. "I guess we both are."
At five, the two ascended towards the entranceway of the castle and made for the small of group of students gathered around Professor Longbottom. Hera noticed that Albus and Daisy were there as well so she waved hello. Prima, on the other hand, stared at the two with a smug face.
As soon as they arrived at the Ministry, Hera made to flick her wand so her hair becomes an ombre shade of silver and russet. No one noticed because they were all preoccupied with looking for their parents.
Prima bid Hera a temporary goodbye as she made her way towards the table of the Department of Law Enforcement, and she herself started to walk towards the table of the Department of International Magical Cooperations, where her Mum sat.
"Ah! My daughter's here." Hermione stood up to welcome Hera, who has now taken off her coat so her satin black dress with thin straps showed her collarbones and toned muscles. The dress was a simple mermaid cut that runs just below her ankle, paired with pearl earrings and a locket. She hadn't worn the gloves her Mum gave her along with the dress, but she did paint her nails so it shows the color of her Hogwarts house, and she wore her grandmother's watch. She had changed the color of her eyes into grey prior to approaching the Ministry gateways, but it was night and the lights made her eyes appear bluish green.
Hermione noticed this and smiled knowingly. As she led Hera to her seat, Hermione flicked a finger so the ombre disappears and shows instead a pure russet hair. Nobody noticed of course, as Hera's hair was swept backward and Hermione made sure to interrupt the lighting somehow.
"Everyone, this is my Heléna." Hermione announced proudly.
Hera noticed that she's the only kid in the table whereas the others had four or five. And then she noticed that her Mum was the youngest of the crowd in front of her, which means that their children were probably old enough to work for the Ministry themselves.
She smiled and nodded politely. Her grace was received by the elders with much awe and doting. None of them seemed to care why she's fatherless, which is great, because it saves her from leaving the comfort of the table.
Finally, the moment she's been waiting for came and she was introduced to the rest of the legendary trio.
The lightning scar on Uncle Harry's forehead is indeed a sight to behold, and she now has an idea why Uncle Ron and her Mum broke up. Aunt Ginny is mesmerizingly beautiful and she thought she caught a whiff of raspberry and spring in her hair, just like how she smells crushed pine needles in her Mum's hair.
Overall, they turned out to be really great people, and she can't wait to meet more of her Mum's friends.
"I can't believe they're your Uncles." Prima said, when they had returned to the Slytherin common room.
"They're not, biologically, but yeah. They are my Uncles."
"They're Aurors!"
"Yes, well. You can be one too if you want to."
"I know that. It's just, you got to talk to Aurors!"
Hera laughed. She had no idea Prima had an obsession with Aurors.
"Heléna, do you want to come over on Christmas break?" Prima asked while they were walking towards Hogsmeade the next weekend.
"I'll ask Mum."
"Alright. There's Quidditch tryouts next week by the way, have a go. They're looking for a Seeker. You must have big guts to be able to ride a Lightning Bolt."
Hera laughed, remembering how her Dad basically paid the Slytherin house so he could get in. "Yeah, I might have a go."