On the plus though Draco Malfoy had been shooting her looks all evening. Sirius had approached Dumbledore at one stage during the night but Hermione had been engaged in a conversation with Daphne Greengrass, a former Slytherin Pureblood. Hermione wondered if Dumbledore had already started his pureblood rumour or if people were too scared to question Sirius Black but all of a sudden Hermione was receiving a lot more attention and respect from the purebloods.
"Do you want a drink?" Sirius asked, drawing Hermione back to the present.
"Yes, red wine if you have it," she requested, knowing that he did have it. He poured her wine and himself a fire whiskey before joining her on the couch.
"Did I tell you that you looked beautiful tonight?" he asked, leaning back to assess her.
"No, but feel free to do so now," she said smiling.
"You look gorgeous, stunning, the most beautiful witch in the room."
"You don't look too bad yourself," she joked, trying to lighten the heavy mood that had descended on them.
"I'm sorry," he said, looking into the empty fireplace. "For being such a prat; for thinking I knew more then you because I was older, more experienced."
"I'm sorry if you thought that I didn't want to tell you or that I didn't think you deserved to know what I was working on. I just –"
"Can't," Sirius finished for her. "I know, Dumbledore told me to just leave it be. The less people who know the better. I understand." His eyes betrayed his words though and his still looked hurt.
Hermione leaned forward and attempted to kiss away any doubt and fears the man before her had.
"Come on," she whispered, "let's go to bed."
"So, Hermione. Last night a very interesting piece of information was let slip. You have always been an advocate and campaigner for the rights of less fortunate magical creatures and muggle borns but last night I was told that you are in fact descendant and sole heir to a very ancient pure blood line. Why did you keep this to yourself all these years?" There is was; the money question. Hermione's answer would determine their course of action.
"To be honest I was ashamed. To come from four generations of squibs? I'd rather be labelled muggle born then have that shame brought upon my family. Many people believed that my great-great-grandfather died when he was twelve and that his father never produced any more heirs but the truth of it is; he hid him away. It was very embarrassing back then for wizards to produce squibs; a taint on their manhood. I was brought up as a muggle and told never to mention it. It was easy to play that role once I got to school," she smiled sweetly at the reporter. She felt Sirius squeeze her hand under the table. She had delivered the line perfectly.
"Having dated three pureblood wizards do you still believe that blood means nothing?" the reporter asked. Hermione hesitated as if deciding her answer.
"Well I think there's a reason I was the smartest witch in my year. That sort of knowledge and talent you are born with, passed down through family. It can't be taught." Despite the superior attitude of her statement Hermione's tone and charm had the reporter completely won over.
"But essentialy you are muggle born."
"Well, I'm hard to define. True, my parents couldn't do magic but the knowledge was passed down. The stories, the books, heirlooms and secrets," Hermione said mysteriously then laughed. "Then family was just biding its time until another witch or wizard was born. And here I am."
"Did you know about this Sirius?" The reporter asked.
"I'd by lying if I said I didn't. Significant information like this is always known in the most exclusive circles. Hermione's family is an important one. Just take one look at her and you can see it; she's a pureblood princess!" Hermione blushed prettily at Sirius' comment while inside she scoffed, 'pureblood princess' my arse.
Hardly one word out of their mouths had been truthful. Luckily Hermione was a private person and she doubted that anyone would find any evidence to contradict their claims, especially with Dumbledore orchestrating the play of things.
"What do you have to say to people who might dispute this, saying it's just a vain attempt to work yourself up the social ladder?"
Hermione laughed again. "I would say to them, your ignorance of wizarding history and families is showing and you are making fool of yourself. Anyone of any importance knows the truth and will not disagree with it. Anyone who does I would think that maybe they are attempting to grasp at some attention."
"Thank you very much Sirius, Hermione. I think we are done here." The reporter gathered his stuff and Hermione stood to show them out.
"You very welcome. It was lovely meeting you," Hermione said, shaking his hand. She stood at the doorway and watched as the reporter stood out into the street, looked about themselves and apperated.
"I cannot believe that moron just sat there and lapped all that up. He loved it, couldn't get enough. The more I giggled and blushed the more he looked like he wanted to bow at my feet!" Hermione said in exasperation. "I almost wanted to slap him and yell 'It's all an act!'"
Sirius laughed and encircled her in his arms.
"You were perfect, you played the part perfectly. Hell, I almost believed you." He chuckled.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"'That sort of knowledge and talent you are born with, passed down through family. It can't be taught.'" She mocked herself. "Even if that was the truth, there is no way I would believe that. Lucky I'm not friends with any non-Order members or else they would see right through me." Hermione laughed harshly. She had never been gladder in her life that her two best friends were Ron and Harry. Just then an envelope fell out of thin air. It landed on the floor at her feet. She picked it up and recognised the spidery writing of Dumbledore. She opened the letter and Sirius read over her shoulder.
"Holy shit," he breathed.
Dear Miss Granger,
Having just conducted your interview I think it is safe to tell you with out fear of it affecting your answers that the rumours I circulated last night and informed you of this morning were not fabricated. You are in fact descendent of an ancient pureblood line. I had every intention of fabricating such an ancestry when I decided I should first check to make sure nothing I invented would conflict too badly with the truth. I was extremely surprised to find that you are in fact the only remaining heir to the ancient wizarding family, the Hinshaws. Please find enclosed a brief family tree and history of your family. I do hope this does not come as too much of a shock to you.
This doesn't make you any different. You are still Hermione Granger. Don't let this affect who you are, who you were born and raised to be.
We can never know who we truly are until we have been tested. I pray child, that when your test comes you face it with all the wisdom and courage you have accumulated and all the power and strength you were born with.
I know that when we get through this you will emerge the woman you always were meant to be; wiser, older and more determined to do what is right. You will change the world, my girl; just don't let it change you.
Sincerely yours,
Albus Dumbledore.
Hermione re-read the letter three times before the words truly began to sink in. After that she spent the rest of the afternoon pouring over her family's history, searching through the books in the Black library, looking for any mention of her ancestors. Over dinner she rained down information of Sirius; everything from the Hinshaw crest and motto to the gruesome deaths of her great-great-great-great uncle and aunt at the hands of revolting goblin slaves. Sirius just shook his head and sighed, watching in amusement as the beautiful woman in front of him spouted off information as if she was overfilled and it was starting to come back out.
"Hermione stop!" he said eventually when she paused to take a breath. "I know you are excited but I can think of much more mutually enjoyable ways to pass the time." Hermione's protest died on her lips as Sirius smiled wickedly at her across the table.
"What do you have in mind?" she asked huskily.
"Well, this was where our little escapade started," he said, indicating the kitchen. "I thought we might stage a repeat performance." He stood up and walked around the table. He grabbed Hermione's arms and yanked her to her feet. "What do you say?"
"Do I have much choice?" she laughed. Her arms were pinned over the top of her head where Sirius had backed her up against the wall.
"None," he answered, nipping at her throat. "None at all."
Okay. I want to write a dark fic but at the same time i want to finish what i started and please you guys. So here is what i'm going to do. I'm going to start a new story called Fight It which will be the light version. Where hermione and sirius stay together and good and all is well in the world. This original story is going to be the dark fic. read one read both up until chapter seven they are the same. meaning chapters 1- 7 are the same.