Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't make money from this fic. Don't sue me.
June 22, 1976 London, England - St. Mungo's Hospital
It was two days before Hermione had another visitor. She was grateful for the company, as Healer Fawley would only let her read for an hour at a time due to her injury. Hermione was not one to be idle for as long as she was. The moment she saw Dumbledore striding down the ward, her face lit up. She almost didn't see the man and woman he was escorting.
"How are you, Hermione dear?" Dumbledore asked her as he approached.
"Bored." She answered honestly. "I asked Healer Fawley if I could read some, and she brought me a few issues of Witch Weekly. I'm dying to get to a library." Dumbledore chuckled at that.
"Well, hopefully you'll be released today. Healer Fawley believes you've heal sufficiently." Dumbledore told her. "Hermione, I'd like you to meet Fleamont and Euphemia Potter." Hermione's eyes widened a bit. Could this be Harry's grandparents? Hermione recovered herself from the momentary shock and smiled at the couple, shaking their hands.
"They're part of the Order," Dumbledore told her. "They don't know everything, but they know enough. They've offered to let you take their name and take you into their home. We've already discussed a cover story for when their son, James, asks questions, but we'll discuss that more when we can talk privately." Dumbledore smiled at her kindly. Hermione nodded.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. and Mrs. Potter. It's very kind of you to help me like this." Hermione said, sheepishly.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, love." Euphemia said, sweetly. "Fleamont and I always wanted a big family. We were lucky to have James. Now, with you and Sirius Black at the house, and undoubtedly their friend Remus Lupin this summer, it will be just like having a house full of our own." Hermione smiled. She reminded her of Molly Weasley, always so willing to take in any child and treat them as her own.
"Sirius Black?" She asked, to keep up appearances. She knew that the Potters had taken Sirius in during his fifth year when his mother had stricken him from the family tree.
"One of James' friends, dear. He's been staying with us due to circumstances with his family. I'm sure you'll meet him when the boys return home from Hogwarts this weekend." She said, soothingly. Hermione nodded.
She worried about meeting James for the first time. She only knew him by the stories Remus and Sirius had told Harry. She wasn't sure how she was going to handle being around Remus and Sirius yet, either. She hadn't thought about being in close proximity to the two men - boys in this time- that she'd come to know and respect. She decided she would just take it slow, testing the waters surrounding the boys. She'd allow herself to adapt to the situation. She only hoped her standoffishness could be played off as recovery.
"Hermione, dear, are you alright?" Euphemia called. Hermione shook her head to clear it, then looked up at the older woman and nodded.
"Yeah, just a little headache." She said.
"Perhaps we shouldn't bring you home today, maybe another night would-" Euphemia started, looking to Dumbledore.
"No, I'll be fine once I get some rest. I've never been able to sleep properly in a hospital." She said, smiling reassuringly.
"Okay, dear. Albus told us you lost all your belongings in the fire that killed your parents. We'll go shopping and see if we can't find some new things." She smiled. Hermione frowned; she'd have to ask Dumbledore about what he'd told them.
"You really don't have to do that, I hate to impose-" Hermione tried to say, but she was cut off my Euphemia.
"Nonsense. We've taken you into our family, remember? Which means we're responsible for taking care of your needs and wants. We know full well what we signed up for, Hermione. You won't be imposing one bit." the older woman insisted, with a smile. "Now, what do you say we get you into your clothes and on your way to a nice, warm bed away from this stuffy ward?" she said, clapping her hands. Hermione smiled when Euphemia shooed Dumbledore and Fleamont away and drew the curtain around them, then helped Hermione change. Euphemia eyed her clothes a bit but shrugged it off.
"Suppose the French always have been rather, erm, fashion forward." She said. Hermione giggle. She had no idea.
That Night, Wimbourne, England - The Potter Residence
Hermione walked up to the impressive, three-story brick and tile house at the edge of the village after having been side-along apparated by Euphemia to the house. She had known that Harry's parents had been wealthy, but she wasn't quite expecting a house that looked so - ordinary. The structures in the wizarding world that she'd gotten used to over the years were by and large extraordinary establishments that she could never imagine in such a locale, with the exception of Grimmauld Place, which was hidden in plain sight anyhow.
She followed Euphemia into the house, where she was greeted with a large foyer and a cherry wood staircase. To her right, there was a large, open dining room, and to her left a little hall. Ahead of her, she could see a cozy little nook just past a great room where she could just see the edge of a dark brown leather couch.
"Fleamont's office is the door at the end of the hall, dear." Euphemia said, showing her around. She lead her into the great room just past the foyer. Hermione took in the cherry wood and leather furniture, complimented by a stone fireplace on the far wall. There was a set of white French doors just beside the small nook, leading out onto a patio and into the gardens. The kitchen was to her left, and included an open layout, with an island dividing it from the the great room. The flooring was all rich cherry wood, just like the staircase.
Euphemia and Hermione returned to the staircase, climbing up to the second level.
"Your room is just here, love." She said, moving to open the door to the immediate right of the staircase. "It was a guest room that hasn't seen much use other than Sirius. He'll be moving in with James this summer, in the room just down the hall."
"Oh, I hope he doesn't mind terribly." Hermione said, feeling guilty. Euphemia laughed a bit.
"James' room is bigger, anyhow. Besides, they dorm together at school, it shouldn't be much different. Remus and Peter, when they stay over, stay in the room around the corner, at the end of the hall, next to James and Sirius'. Fleamont and I are at the end of the hall, between here and there." She said, a meaningful look in her eye. Hermione flushed a bit, realizing there was reasoning behind her placement. She hid it by looking around the tidy bedroom. The walls were a robin's egg blue, the bed adorned with a blue and white quilt. She noticed the door beside the walk in closet and raised her eyes, excitedly.
"I'll have my own bathroom?" She asked. Euphemia smiled.
"Of course. Yet another reason for giving you this room. With four boys in the house, a girl needs her space." She smiled, as though sharing a secret with her. Hermione allowed herself to relax a bit and sat down on the bed, testing it a bit. A thought came to her.
"What's on the third floor? I don't particularly want to make the trip up there yet." She said, feeling suddenly very drained.
"Most of it is Fleamont's library. You're more than welcome to look through it, if you want. Remus seems to enjoy it quite a bit when he's here." She said. Hermione's eyes lit up; her boredom in the hospital was behind her, at last.
"I'll have to check it out later." Hermione said, her excitement outweighed by her fatigue at the moment. She yawned widely.
"I'll let you rest, sweetheart. I'll let you know wake you for dinner, alright dear?" She asked. Hermione nodded, kicking off her shoes and crawling under the quilt.
"Thank you, Mrs. Potter." she said, sleepily.
"Call me Aunt Euphemia, love." She said, pulling her wand and drawing the curtains with a quick flick.
"Thank you, Aunt Euphemia,"Hermione said, testing the title. It felt a bit odd, but she smiled a little at it. It was nice having a family in this time. It helped to distract her from the potential disaster that she was sure she would make of the timeline. She thought of getting to meet Remus and Sirius in this time, and of how strange it would be to meet Harry's dad as she drifted to sleep, a familiar black dog skimming through her mind as she closed her eyes.
June 23, 1976 Wimbourne, England - The Potter Residence
Dumbledore came calling the next day to check in on Hermione and bring her up to date on what exactly he had told the Potters. He found her exploring the library and sat at the little table near the window, talking to her while she browsed the shelves.
"The story is a bit complex, Hermione. I sincerely hope you'll be able to keep up with it." Dumbledore said, wonderingly.
"I will be fine. I have to be, after all." She said stiffly, not looking away from the shelves.
"Fleamont and Euphemia, as well as a vast majority of the wizarding population, have been told that your family was attacked by Voldemort. Your parents were killed. Fleamont recently lost his estranged cousin and his wife in what was undoubtedly a Death Eater attack, and with the proximity of his death date, he offered to let you take his take his family name. Your purported parents were Oberon and Cordelia Potter, of France." Hermione nodded, taking in the information.
"Is that how you plan on explaining my sudden appearance at Hogwarts for sixth year, should I still be here?" Hermione asked. Dumbledore chuckled.
"My, you are the bright one, aren't you?" He asked, watching as her eyes never left the bookshelves. She picked out a title or two and tucked them under her arm as she continued perusing. "Yes, indeed. I assume you will have been sorted in your own time, but we'll have to sort you again as a formality. If you are still here in August, I'll have Euphemia bring you up to the castle and we'll get you squared away."
"So, I assume part of my backstory is that I went to Beauxbatons. What else do I need to know in case James, Sirius, or Remus ask?" She asked.
"Not much is known about Oberon and Cordelia Potter, so if you fabricate a believable story, it shouldn't be disputed, as long as you don't contradict yourself. You would technically be labelled as a half-blood, as Cordelia was a Muggleborn. You will need to know about your false grandparents, though. With a name like Potter, you will undoubtedly be asked about your family. While Cordelia was a Muggleborn, Oberon was a pureblood, the son of Charlus Potter and Dorea Black."
"Black? So that would make me related to Sirius, as well?" She asked.
"Indeed. According to Fleamont the three of you are all second cousins." He told her. Hermione groaned.
"This is going to be weird." She sighed. "Is anything known about Charlus and Dorea?"
"They were both sorted into Slytherin, which reportedly drove a wedge between Charlus and James's grandfather, Henry, who was a Gryffindor and very outspoken about it. That prompted him to move to France with Dorea when Henry was offered his seat on the Wizengamot, especially when their more, erm, radical tendencies showed themselves." Dumbledore said.
"So Charlus and Dorea were blood purists?" Hermione asked.
"I'm afraid so, dear." Dumbledore nodded.
"Apparently they didn't pass along their views to Oberon, though, if he married a Muggleborn without repercussions."
"Indeed, it seems as though they may well have changed their ways." He said, nodding. "I can hardly believe you are only sixteen. I have difficulty talking about cover-ups this complex with most adults in the Order." Hermione smiled, a note of sadness behind it.
"I was known, affectionately by some, as the brightest witch of my age, in my time." She said. Dumbledore smiled gently.
"I believe it, dear girl." Dumbledore nodded, the twinkle in his eye replaced with a graveness Hermione had only seen a handful of times. She realized she was finally seeing the world as an Order member instead of a child, and that sort of terrified her. While she revelled in the sense of fighting the good fight, she also longed for the days where she was safe and protected from evil, insteading being part of the protection herself. Her mind called up the memory of the photo of the original Order and her stomach did a little flip when she realized she would be meeting most of the people in that picture, knowing nearly all of them wouldn't live to see the end of the war.
Hermione sighed as she realized how hard this mission was going to be.