Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Nope, not me.
A/N: Yay for reviews!
Herein lies the reaction of Hermione… and hopefully a few of the details that appeared erroneous before may have been rectified… if not, they will be clarified in later chapters…
Tomorrow is a Helena interlude!
To answer one reviewer's question about the mythological Hermione - yes, she was the daughter of Helen and Menelaus, who ruled Sparta (Lacedaemon). She was abandoned by both her mother when Helen ran off with Paris (Helen took her son Nikos with her and left Hermione behind - how mean is that?!) She was then abandoned by her father Menelaus when he followed Helen and waged the Trojan War (along with Agamemnon and Achilles and that mob.) And no, Paris was not the golden apple guy. That was Heracles (Hercules) - though some myths change Jason's golden fleece to a golden apple as well.
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Sirius felt like he'd been slugged in the stomach. He and Hermione stared at each other in complete shock. He could feel Regina trembling beside him. Remus, too, was gazing at Hermione, a mixture of sadness and steadfastness in his eyes…
Sweet Merlin, Sirius thought. I guess… he's her uncle, then.
Thinking of trivial things in serious situations. So he was wont to do.
"Look," Ron said firmly, "it can't be Hermione. Can't be."
"Why not?" Ginny asked quietly. She had gone sheet-white, and it seemed to Sirius that only Harry's hand on the small of her back was keeping her from collapsing into the chair.
"Well, for starters," Ron said, "this Psyche was born in March, yeah? Hermione was born in September!"
"No, I wasn't, Ron." The voice was Hermione's.
"What do you mean, you weren't?" Ron demanded.
Hermione took a deep breath and Sirius knew then that she was about to cry. "I - I was adopted," she said shakily. "September the 19th isn't my birthday. I never knew when my real birthday was. September the 19th is my Finding Day - the day my parents took me in."
It was starting to sink in for Sirius. I have a daughter. I have a daughter and she is sitting right in front of me. I have a daughter… and it's Hermione.
"Hermione," Remus said gently. "I'm sorry to tell you like this. But… you do have the right to know."
Hermione didn't say anything. She just stared at her hands.
There was an awkward silence. "Well," Ron said uncertainly, "I guess… that's that, then…"
"Psyche?"
It was Regina who had spoken. Finally, she looked up, and her grey-green eyes locked with Hermione's brown ones - eyes, Sirius realised, that she had inherited from him. It was all falling into place. My eyes. Regina's hair. Hell, she's even got hands like Remus!
Hermione's jaw hardened. Sirius recognised the characteristic as one of his own. "No."
Sirius saw the light die in Regina's eyes. "Psyche…" she murmured, more a whisper than a question.
Some floodgate seemed to burst in Hermione. "No," she said, "I AM NOT PSYCHE!"
There was a stunned silence. Regina slumped beside Sirius, and he had to support her to keep her from collapsing into the sofa completely. Hermione, however, seemed oblivious.
"I'M NOT PSYCHE!" she yelled. "I'M HERMIONE!"
She wheeled on Remus, who held up his hands in a pacifying way. "Hermione…" he said.
"Don't you 'Hermione' me," Hermione hissed. "So you thought I had a right to know? Did you ever consider I would have been happier not knowing! No-one ever seemed to have any issues keeping things from Harry! Why couldn't you keep it from me?!"
Sirius was on his feet now. "Hermione…" he said warningly.
"Stay away from me!" Hermione shrieked. "Do you have any idea what you have stolen from me? Any idea at all?"
Now Regina was standing too. "Please…" she said weakly.
"You've stolen MY IDENTITY!" Hermione yelled. "You have stolen everything I am!" She took a deep breath and Sirius could see unequivocal fury in her eyes. "For five years at this school, I have been Hermione Granger, Muggle-born. The one that slimy little purebloods like Draco Malfoy called 'Mudblood Granger.' The daughter of Muggles that beat the purebloods in every single class. And now… you've stolen that. I'm not Hermione the Muggle-born any more. I'm a pureblood. Just like them. You've made me what I hate!"
Ron tentatively laid a hand on her arm. "Hermione, I'm a pureblood," he said honestly. "Do you hate me?"
Hermione looked somewhat taken aback. "Of course not, Ron," she answered. "You're -"
"Different?" Ron finished for her. "No, I'm not different, Hermione. I'm a pureblood, just like Draco Malfoy. Does that make me as bad as him?"
"N-no," Hermione stammered.
Ron took both her shoulders in his hands and forced her to look at him. "Hermione, just because you're a pureblood doesn't mean you have to go Muggle-baiting or join the Junior Death Eater society or anything," he told her urgently. "Haven't we always been told that it is our choices who make us who we are, not our blood? Your blood doesn't change anything."
"But -"
"It doesn't change anything," Ron repeated insistently. "Nothing at all."
Hermione took a deep breath. "Ron, me finding out I'm a pureblood is like Draco Malfoy finding out he's Muggle-born!"
"Would being Muggle-born make Draco Malfoy any less a slimy git?" Ron demanded. "Look at Voldemort." Sirius knew that that was the first time Ron had voluntarily spoken the name, and he had done it without faltering. "He's a halfblood, and he's still a stupid crazy bastard."
There were tears pouring down Hermione's cheeks now. "Don't swear," she whispered.
Sirius extended a hand to Hermione. "Hermione?" he asked quietly.
Ron released her. "Go on," he urged her.
Hermione looked from Ron to Sirius to Regina. She appeared to be thinking. "No."
"What do you mean, no?" Ron demanded.
Hermione appeared to ignore him. Instead, she stared steadfastly at Sirius and Regina. "If you think you can waltz into my life and become my parents, you can forget about it," she told them firmly. "I already have parents. They may not be related to me by blood, but they're all I've ever known. And I will not forsake them. Not for you, not for anyone."
And with that, she left the room, slamming the door behind her.
*
"Go on," Remus said quietly to Harry, Ron and Ginny. "Go after her. She needs you."
Ron nodded firmly, and he and Ginny left without a glance backward.
Sirius sank back into the sofa with a groan. "Sweet Merlin," he moaned.
"Sirius?"
He became aware of Harry, still standing by the door. His green eyes were sombre behind his round glasses. The firelight flickered and Sirius saw, with an uncomfortable jolt of his heart, that Harry was crying. Crying silently, but crying nonetheless.
"Harry?" he asked gently. "Harry, what's wrong?"
Harry's body shuddered, wracked with sobs. In an instant, Sirius was on his feet again. He guided his godson to the couch and sat him down. Remus had his arms around Regina and she was crying into his shirt.
"Harry?" he asked tentatively. "Harry, what is it?"
He had never seen Harry in a state like this. Come to think of it, he thought, I don't think I've ever really seen Harry cry before.
"I - I only just got you back," Harry answered, choking on his tears, "and now I've lost you again."
"What do you mean, you've lost me?" Sirius asked. "Harry, I won't ever abandon you. You know that."
"Before…" Harry gulped, trying to swallow his tears. "Before… it's so horribly selfish, but before… before there was only me you had to love. You were like - like my dad. But now…"
"Now I'm someone else's dad, is that right?"
Harry met Sirius's eyes. Slowly, he nodded. "Yes," he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Now… you have Miss Lupin, and you're getting married… and you have a daughter. It's like there's no place for me anymore."
"Harry," Sirius said insistently, "never, ever, for a moment think that there is no place for you." He grabbed both Harry's shoulders, much like Ron had grabbed Hermione's. "I may have seventeen wives and thirteen hundred children, but there will always be a place for you. Just because I have other people to love doesn't mean I'll love you any less."
"But -" Harry choked. "But… you have your own daughter now. You don't need me."
"Harry," Sirius said, choking slightly on his own tears. "Harry, no son of mine could ever be as dear to me as you are. Never. Of course I love Hermione. I always have - she's your friend. She helped you save me. But no-one will usurp your place with me, Harry."
"I feel awful," Harry admitted tearfully. "I feel selfish for wanting to be first with you, but then when you tell me I am, I feel like I've stolen Hermione's place."
"Don't," Sirius urged him. "Hermione has her own place. It's a different place to yours, but it exists. Just like Reggie has her own place. Like Remus has his own place. Like your mother. Like your father."
Slowly, Harry nodded. "Thankyou, Sirius," he whispered.
Sirius embraced his godson. "That's all right, Harry," he said, holding the boy tightly. "That's all right."
When at length, they drew back, Sirius smiled at Harry. "So, Harry," he said, "how do you feel about being the best man at this wedding spectacular that seems to be planned?"
Tentatively, Harry smiled back. "Thanks, Sirius," he said. "I'd - I'd love to."
Sirius felt like the wheel had come full circle.
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