A/N: Wow! Thank you so much for the excellent response! I am so glad that you are enjoying this so much. Huge shout out to everyone who favorited, followed or reviewed. I will try to respond to reviews via PM, but I had way more than expected, so it might take some time.
This is a look at Hermione's childhood. There is a brief mention of physical punishment in this chapter, but hopefully it won't offend anyone. Next chapter will be Hogwarts. Please let me know what you think!
December 1981
Sirius had only lasted a month living under the same roof as Walburga. He knew that he should bite his tongue and just deal with her terrible attitude as it would give him more clout in pureblood circles, but he hated the way she acted around Hermione. It was after the holidays that his grandfather, Arcturus had offered the house in France up to him.
Apparently his Aunt Lucretia could see how uncomfortable he was back at Grimmauld Place and how overbearing Walburga was. Arcturus could see that his daughter-in-law had effectively ruined two heirs already, and didn't want her spending more time with her granddaughter than necessary. The old man had a real soft spot for his little princess Hermione, even though he only had known her for weeks. Sirius wished he'd known his grandfather was so soft when he was a boy.
Hermione had enchanted most of her relatives. Narcissa had initially been cold and reserved around Sirius, but she quickly warmed after helping him get clothing made for Hermione. Soon she was decked out in the most fashionable rompers and dresses, and Narcissa had forgiven her cousin. He needed so much help with raising a toddler after all, Narcissa didn't know how Sirius would get along without her.
Sirius supposed that part of it might have been Narcissa's desire to have a daughter. She'd quickly confided in him that Draco - yes, she'd gotten Lucius to name his heir Draco...the perfect melding of the stars and the Roman Senate - would be an only child, as they were not able to have any other children. Growing up with two sisters, she'd always wanted a daughter to spoil. Sirius didn't mind the help with Hermione though.
Hermione did enjoy having a playmate in Draco, though she certainly didn't mind playing by herself. Sirius loved to watch his little girl boss the blond boy around, and it seemed like she always got her way with him. Once he got over the awkwardness of having someone else's child, Sirius found it much easier to be around her. She was his daughter now, and he would protect her.
It was easy to make the decision to move out though, with what the big house in the south of France, overlooking the sea, offered to him. He promised Narcissa that he would be in touch, and packed up his and Hermione's meager belongings, before settling into a large empty house with just a kindly old house elf working there.
September 1985
Sirius generally limited his visits with Walburga to three times a year, though each visit had him swearing that it would be the last one. They saw each other around Yule, when they would meet at Arcturus's house, as all Blacks did, for celebrations. She would spoil her granddaughter with presents, and loved the way that Hermione always called her "Grandmother."
"What a perfect little witch you are!" She would coo over the girl, but scowl with she still called Sirius "Papa." Sirius didn't know why she was so insistent on him being called "father," when he thought that papa suited him just fine. Hermione quickly learned that love was very, very conditional with Grandmother Walburga, and stopped trying as much to win her affection. Still, she loved seeing her other aunts, uncles, and cousins, as well as her great-grandparents.
Walburga always came to visit on Hermione's birthday - September 19th - to the big house on the sea, but would never stay long. She never came to visit on Sirius's birthday and it hardly seemed like she remembered.
Sirius could never miss a visit on Walburga's birthday in May, though, and he would take Hermione through the floo to Grimmauld Place, which seemed to become darker and darker with each visit. It made him happy every time that they'd moved out of the dark, grungy townhouse. He couldn't believe that his parents had ever thought it suitable to raise children in.
When his mother finally - yes, finally...he waited with baited breath that each owl from his grandfather as a death announcement - died in 1985, he took Hermione to the funeral, but wasn't able to cry. He explained what happened to his little girl - six years old that this point - but, to his surprise, she wasn't too shaken up about it either.
After the funeral, though, Narcissa approached him. "Maybe it's time for you to move back." She whispered to him, pulling him away from people eager to pay him condolences. "Hermione is six now, and I had planned on hiring Draco a private tutor. Hogwarts is only five years off, and we want our children to be prepared, don't we?"
Sirius looked at his daughter, and was reminded for the first time in many years her purpose in this whole game as well. He needed her to be as prepared as possible before sending her into the viper's nest. His heart beat a bit faster thinking that she might be sorted into Gryffindor like him. With her wildly curly hair and bright brown eyes, he thought she looked a bit like a lioness.
But, then, it sank, knowing that that could never be possible.
October 1985
Hermione Black had been excited to move back to England, mostly because it meant that she would get to see her cousin, Draco more often. He was okay as a playmate, seeing as he was her only playmate. Her papa told her that they were going to start taking lessons with a tutor to prepare for Hogwarts, and also etiquette lessons with Aunt Narcissa.
Hermione wasn't excited to move back into Grimmauld Place, but Papa had assured her that she could change her room anyway she wanted to. She'd already decided on pink sheets. Papa didn't seem excited to move in either. He told her that he grew up there, and didn't have many happy memories, so he would be changing a lot of things.
Still, she was excited to start learning new things, so she thought that it would be a good move in the end, even though she would miss her house by the sea.
November 1987
Hermione remembered the first time she understood that she and Papa were different than the rest of the Black family. She had dutifully flooed over to Malfoy Manor every day, where she would spend the morning learning a variety of educational topics, followed by an afternoon of wizarding etiquette with Narcissa. She dutifully practiced introducing herself and learning floral arranging and which behaviors were unacceptable - the slightest things could be taboo.
Hermione would preen under Narcissa's assessment of what a proper witch she was growing into, and how being a Black made her better than so many others. Narcissa was a Black, after all, so she would know. Somehow, Papa hadn't gotten the message because he was always certain to remind her that her birth, her family didn't make her better than any one else. It was the content of her character and her intelligence that would set her apart. He expected her to respect everyone at Hogwarts, and not to act superior to others.
She listened to Uncle Lucius talk about how the mud - muggleborns were destroying society, along with the blood traitors. When she decided to ask Papa about mudbloods, though, he seemed to be angrier than any other time that she'd seen him.
He'd grabbed her by the arm and marched her to the bathroom, only to clean her mouth out with soap. "Do not use that word! Never use that word. It is not something polite young girls say."
Hermione had huge salty tears form in her eyes, spitting out the soap that remained in her mouth. She didn't mean to upset her Papa, and she hadn't realized that it was a bad word. Uncle Lucius said it all the time, and with such nonchalance, it couldn't possibly be bad. "I'm sorry! I didn't know that it was a bad word!" She wailed, clutching her father's shirt. "I won't say it again, I promise!"
Her Papa had gathered her up in his arms, and held her close, letting out a deep breath. He pet her hair, listening as her sobs settled down into sniffles. When she'd calmed down, he apologized to her for overreacting, before telling her to head to her room for the afternoon - he had business to take care of.
Sirius had tried his hardest to raise Hermione to be a kind, respectful little girl, but unfortunately those qualities were not prized in pureblood society, and certainly not in the Black family. He was constantly undoing Narcissa's handiwork of teaching his princess that she should look down on others because of her name and wealth.
Still, it was unpreventable, he supposed, coming from such privilege. Hell, even he and James had been that way when he started at Hogwarts. It took two years of mildly offending Remus before they pulled their heads out of their arses. Still, Sirius had walked around Hogwarts like he'd owned the place, right up to graduation.
But hearing his sweet princess say that horrible word...he'd snapped. He still couldn't believe he'd washed her mouth out with soap, considering early on he'd promised not to use physical punishment like his parents had. But then, he'd remember the confident way that the word had come out of her mouth. It was time for him to explain who she really was. Could an eight year old be trusted with such knowledge? Unfortunately, she would have to be, because she'd be heading off to Hogwarts in three short years. He often wondered what the purpose of their mission was in the years since he'd started on it, as it seemed futile. The whole time that he'd been with his family, he hadn't heard one whisper of Voldemort's return - praise for his work, yes, but resurrection, no.
He'd given up everything for this. He was completely cut off from his friends, he was still morning James and Lily all these years later. Dumbledore had told him not to contact him for years, but now it was necessary, for Hermione's sake. He only hoped his daughter could forgive him for lying for so many years.
Sirius secured a meeting with Dumbledore fairly easily, considering their last meeting. He ushered Hermione through the floo, where she was first introduced to the Headmaster. "Why Miss Black! You've grown so much since I last saw you." Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling.
It was true, she was now a child. She was graceful and a bit small for her age, but her curly hair had grown longer and sometimes got a bit bushy, which annoyed her Aunt Narcissa to no end. Sirius was amazed by how much she really did look as though she could be a part of his family. Hermione's nose scrunched in confusion. "When have you met me before headmaster?"
"I knew you when you were only two years old." Dumbledore said, conspiratorily, his voice in a near whisper. "I assume that it is why you've brought her here today, Sirius?"
Sirius nodded. "We need an oath to keep her safe. I needed a bonder." He said gruffly. He knew that Hermione wasn't going to like what they talked about at all, but he hoped that he could repair her trust in him. He had to tell her now, before more damage was done...he couldn't bare it if she'd been taught to hate muggleborns when she was one. "Hermione, I need to tell you something, but it's a matter of life and death that you don't share it with anyone else. We will take a Wizard Oath to ensure that you don't tell anyone. Sound okay sweetheart?"
Hermione looked confused, but nodded anyway, holding out her right hand to clasp with Sirius's. It nearly broke his heart, seeing how small her hand was in his own large one. This was really too much to ask of a child. Dumbledore pointed his wand at their joined hands. "Do you promise not to discuss what I tell you in this room with anyone not expressly approved by me?"
Hermione bit her lip, suddenly quite frightened. "I promise." She said finally. She watched as a bit of red light shot from the Headmaster's wand and tangled around their hands. She could feel the magic settle between them, almost burning in its intensity.
Sirius let go of her hand, once the oath had settled, and pulled Hermione to sit on his lap. He brushed some of her curly hair out of her face and behind her ear. "I don't know how to tell you this, but...I guess I should just come right out and say it. You are adopted." Sirius looked away from her, not wanting to see the betrayal on her face. "Your biological parents were killed when you were just a toddler."
Hermione was quiet for a few moments, before Sirius finally made himself face her. "So I'm not a Black?" She asked, confused.
Sirius kissed her temple. "Dumbledore and I performed a special ritual, so you are my daughter, Hermione. You are a Black. You will never stop being my daughter, alright?"
Hermione nodded, and gave her Papa a little hug, glad to know that he wasn't trying to get rid of her. When he'd first told her, she was surprised. Everyone always told her how much she looked like Sirius, or her cousin Bellatrix, who she hadn't met before. She didn't want to stop being a Black. It was all she knew. "How were my parents killed?" She asked, sad that she wasn't able to remember anything about them.
"You've heard of the wizard called Voldemort?" Sirius asked, gray eyes searching her face. He knew it was so much information to take in such a short span of time.
Hermione's eyes widened and looked over towards Headmaster Dumbledore. She knew that it wasn't polite to talk about Voldemort with just anyone, but decided to follow her father's lead. "Yes, Uncle Lucius talks about him."
Sirius nodded, a bit annoyed with how casually Lucius talked about the Dark Arts. "Some of his followers, called Death Eaters, killed your parents because they were muggles." Sirius let her take it in. He could clearly see her mind whirring in confusion, before settling on the realization that she was muggleborn. "Voldemort killed my very best friend in the whole world, too."
He could see little baby tears in her eyes at the idea that someone had hurt her father. She patted his arm, wanting to provide him some comfort. Sirius kept talking. "Even though Voldemort was killed, we - Dumbledore and I - know that he will come back in the future. We had an idea that you and I would try to figure out information from some of Voldemort's followers. We can give the information to the Headmaster, and we can help to stop Voldemort once and for all this time."
Hermione was biting her lower lip in concentration - a new habit that she'd picked up. "But Papa, doesn't that mean that we will have to spy on Uncle Lucius?" Spying on people was wrong, she knew that much.
"Sweetheart, I know that it might seem wrong, but don't you want to help stop a man who would kill people like you because of who your biological parents are?" Sirius said, again stroking her long mane of hair. He knew this would be hard on an eight year old, but he knew that it needed to be done.
Hermione began to cry in earnest then. Oh! She had used the word mudblood and that is what she was. She felt horrible suddenly, not understanding why this was happening to her. Everything she thought she understood was suddenly in ruins on the ground around her. "Why does it have to be me?"
Sirius sighed, wanting to make this is as easy on her as possible. "Because I know you are strong, smart and kind. And I know that with your help, we will be able to make a difference in this war. Make no mistake, Hermione, there is still a war going on."
Hermione finally nodded, taking his words on, knowing that she would do everything she could to help because it was the right thing to do. "Okay, papa. I'll help you." She said, hoping it didn't sound as pitiful as she felt.
Sirius smiled and kissed her cheek, wiping the tears away from her cheeks. "You will always be my daughter Hermione. I love you." Father and daughter embraced each other tightly, knowing that the other was the only one they had.
August 1991
The next three years seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye. After Sirius had explained that her being pureblooded and from such an influential family, people would be more willing to share information with her about Voldemort, once she was at Hogwarts, Hermione seemed to embrace her heritage more than ever. It was imperative that she never broke her cover.
Narcissa remarked that Hermione's retention of pureblood customs and traditions had vastly improved that she was certain to be the very best behaved pureblood girl in Slytherin house. Sirius had to bite his tongue, even though he wanted to suggest that she could be in whichever house she wanted.
Even Lucius had noticed the change in her as she entered the winter of her childhood, commenting that she would make an excellent wife someday. Sirius hoped that Lucius wasn't suggesting that she marry Draco, when they were practically close enough to be siblings. His parents had married within the same family with disastrous results and he didn't want them repeated. Plus, he hoped this farce would be over long before he even start considering a marriage contract for his daughter.
While Hermione's enthusiasm grew for the new task that she was given, Sirius began to feel more and more hopeless. What even was the point of the task? It had been eleven years since James and Lily were killed and there hadn't been any new news of Voldemort, thought Lucius had grown more and more open about his blood prejudice.
It wasn't until they were in Diagon Alley that Sirius regained a sense of purpose with his mission. Hermione and he had gone to the Wizarding lane to get her school supplies for Hogwarts. Narcissa had offered to take her, but Sirius insisted that it was something he wanted to do with his daughter. It was a milestone, after all. She'd dressed pristinely in a green dress, with a white pressed shirt underneath it, and white stockings in her black mary janes. Kreacher had been in tears, remarking that Mistress Walburga would have been so pleased to see what a sweet young lady her granddaughter had grown into.
They were just leaving Gringott's when he spotted messy black hair that had him stopping in his tracks. "James." The name left his mouth before he could stop it, seeing the spitting image of his late friend, only eleven years old, and with the brilliant green eyes of Lily Evans. He blinked and began ushering Hermione away, not wanting to get into an argument with Hagrid, the half-giant. It was Harry. Harry Potter hadn't crossed Sirius's mind in many years, as he often found it too painful to linger on the past, and it felt like a betrayal to his daughter, as though he might not want her.
But it was Harry. Harry was the reason that his mission was so important, Hermione's mission was so important. He'd stay undercover as long as it took, so that he could help defeat Voldemort, not just for the muggleborns and half-bloods, but for everyone who'd been killed by Voldemort and his followers.
He said he'd do anything to protect James, even if that had meant dying, and here he was getting restless when he had the chance to make a real difference. It reinvigorated him in a way that he didn't expect.
It was for Harry.
