The Heiress
A SS/HG fan fiction story
By: fuchsiasteerpike
Summary: The death of an uncle makes Hermione a very wealthy young woman. Witness how she deals with startling revelations about her deceased relative, gold-digging suitors and a familiar unpleasant neighbor…
Disclaimer: I disclaim
Hermione Granger was reveling in the luxury that her own bed had to offer one quiet morning, when a rather irritating young figure of a 7 year old crept into her room and started to pummel her head with a soft foam bat. Moaning, she pulled the covers over her head in a drowsy attempt to ward off the intruder. It was all for nothing, as the child put more strength into his assault. Hermione attempted to ignore the child, until he delivered a stinging blow to her bottom. She shot up, hair in disarray, eyes blazing.
"Simon Edward Granger, I'm telling your mother!" To prove she spoke in earnest, Hermione sprang from the bed, and ran into the hall calling for her Aunt Mina. Simon followed, protesting desperately.
Hermione home was currently filled with family visitors. Hermione had been forced to share her room with her twin cousins, Simon and Dinah. Dinah was still slumbering away, unaware of what her other half was up to. Had she been aware, she would've taken steps to prevent the assault, being a staunch do-gooder, like her older cousin. She adored Hermione.
To the point, the house was full on the occasion of a funeral. Hermione's great-uncle Ralph Dane Granger, had recently passed away, and the will reading was to be done at Hermione's parent's home, since her father was a favorite of Ralph's. More so, Hermione was a favorite, taking time after her final year at Hogwarts to take care of her long ailing uncle. This was a small task compared to the final battle that had occurred earlier that year. Her parents were not privy to the events that had occurred over the last 7 years of Hermione's life.
Hermione was currently in the middle of taking a long needed vacation from the wizarding world, and was planning to return in the fall to receive a higher education in order to become a professor. It was not an enormous shock to anyone she was acquainted with.
Once the twins had been evicted from her bedroom, Hermione set out to prepare for the funeral. She sat in front of the mirror on her vanity table and peered in wearily. Her hair was still as voluminous as ever, age seemed to not bring it into any sort of state of agreeability. In her opinion, her eye color was a dull sort of brown, not interesting at all, others would call it a pleasing shade of honey. While her nose, and recently, her teeth were features she could tolerate, she despised her over-voluptuous lips, and pasty, freckled complexion. Her figure was pleasing to others, but a burden to herself, lamenting the small size of her breasts and the, what she thought, substantial size of her bottom. All in all, a very unremarkable looking girl, Hermione thought with a small degree of misery.
It then occurred to Hermione to feel ashamed for feeling miserable about her looks, when she should be feeling miserable about the loss of a beloved uncle. She was almost done with feeling sadness about losses. She had lost Hagrid, Dumbledore, Lupin, and hundreds of others in the final battle, and the experience had all but numbed her to human emotion. She had returned home to relax, but instead encountered yet another loss.
Hermione sat patiently during the will reading, waiting to hear what her father had inherited. She had no expectations for herself. She glanced beside her and gave a small smile. Young Dinah was earnestly trying to copy her mannerisms as she sat, feigning interest in the proceedings. The little girl was fast on the way to falling asleep in her chair.
What Ralph's lawyer read off nearly made Hermione fall out of hers.
Hermione was now the heiress to an enormous fortune, every penny her uncle owned, and his manor in Scotland.
"Pardon me?" Hermione blurted out. Her family let out a chorus of shushes, apparently nonplussed by what had just been spoken. That was the way of most of the Granger family, not a one of them expected any great reward, and none of them looked enviously on those who received more than the other. Most of them, with the exception of Hermione, remained very uncompetitive folk. Hermione had inherited her competitive streak from her mother's side of the family.
After the proceedings, Hermione was congratulated by numerous members of the family. Her Aunt Rena had been appointed the official caretaker of Hermione's fortune. She was an accountant.
"Now Uncle Ralph already has an appointed staff, and I'll take care of their wages, Hermione. You needn't lift a finger to do anything," Rena assured her.
"But what is this manor in Scotland? I thought Uncle Ralph lived 3 blocks down from me."
"Our uncle was a very rich man, Hermione, he has several residences, you only inherited one."
"But what am I to do with it?"
Rena smiled at her niece.
"Well, live in it for one thing. You're out of school now, a grown girl needs a place of her own. You could invite your school chums to come and live with you if you'd like. That would fill up a few of those old rooms." Invite Harry and Ron to live with her? It struck Hermione as a sensible thing to do. Ron couldn't live with his mother forever, and Harry hadn't currently been making any plans to move out of the Weasley home either. It would do for a while, as a bit of a reward to all of them, living in the lap of luxury. Of course Hermione would reside at a dormitory once she started at the Wizarding University, and whatever Ron and Harry wanted to do once the summer ended was entirely up to them. The manor would be a safe haven, a vacation home, but not a real practical home. Hermione couldn't conceive of living in a grand place for the rest of her days, it just wasn't very Hermione-like. No, one summer of luxury would do, and then it was back to normality. There, good plan.
Uncle Ralph, Hermione learned, had named his estate "The Grange", part as a play on his last name, the other as a dedication to an estate in his long dead wife's favorite novel "Wuthering Heights" . Ralph's love for his wife was legendary in the Granger family. He had been utterly devoted to the frail, sickly young woman whom he had known ever since he was a teenager. It had been a shock to see the witty, sharp tongued young man led around so easily by the small, beautiful Hermione Emilia Heloise Danvers. She had died of complications in child birth only 2 years after their marriage. The child did not survive, and Ralph never remarried. Hermione was always fascinated hear stories about her namesake. Of course, Ralph had always humored her, using a bit of exaggeration in some of the tales.
As planned, Ron and Harry joined Hermione at "The Grange", all three of them in awe of how sprawling and well-kept the estate was.
"Uncle Ralph was a perfectionist," Hermione explained. That would explain the perfection of a home he spent minimal time at. "The Grange" was like the Taj Mahal in that it was more like a shrine to the deceased Hermione than a home to Ralph.
"Oh, look, we have neighbors," Hermione commented, gazing across the lawn to a home in the distance.
"I wonder who lives there, I hope our neighbor isn't some kind of git," said Ron.
Across the distance, at the home the trio had surveyed, lived a man they all knew and feared. He was currently staring curiously in the direction of "The Grange" wondering who had finally taken residence there, and hoping they wouldn't be a nuisance and interfere with his long needed early retirement.
His name was Severus Snape.
A SS/HG fan fiction story
By: fuchsiasteerpike
Summary: The death of an uncle makes Hermione a very wealthy young woman. Witness how she deals with startling revelations about her deceased relative, gold-digging suitors and a familiar unpleasant neighbor…
Disclaimer: I disclaim
Hermione Granger was reveling in the luxury that her own bed had to offer one quiet morning, when a rather irritating young figure of a 7 year old crept into her room and started to pummel her head with a soft foam bat. Moaning, she pulled the covers over her head in a drowsy attempt to ward off the intruder. It was all for nothing, as the child put more strength into his assault. Hermione attempted to ignore the child, until he delivered a stinging blow to her bottom. She shot up, hair in disarray, eyes blazing.
"Simon Edward Granger, I'm telling your mother!" To prove she spoke in earnest, Hermione sprang from the bed, and ran into the hall calling for her Aunt Mina. Simon followed, protesting desperately.
Hermione home was currently filled with family visitors. Hermione had been forced to share her room with her twin cousins, Simon and Dinah. Dinah was still slumbering away, unaware of what her other half was up to. Had she been aware, she would've taken steps to prevent the assault, being a staunch do-gooder, like her older cousin. She adored Hermione.
To the point, the house was full on the occasion of a funeral. Hermione's great-uncle Ralph Dane Granger, had recently passed away, and the will reading was to be done at Hermione's parent's home, since her father was a favorite of Ralph's. More so, Hermione was a favorite, taking time after her final year at Hogwarts to take care of her long ailing uncle. This was a small task compared to the final battle that had occurred earlier that year. Her parents were not privy to the events that had occurred over the last 7 years of Hermione's life.
Hermione was currently in the middle of taking a long needed vacation from the wizarding world, and was planning to return in the fall to receive a higher education in order to become a professor. It was not an enormous shock to anyone she was acquainted with.
Once the twins had been evicted from her bedroom, Hermione set out to prepare for the funeral. She sat in front of the mirror on her vanity table and peered in wearily. Her hair was still as voluminous as ever, age seemed to not bring it into any sort of state of agreeability. In her opinion, her eye color was a dull sort of brown, not interesting at all, others would call it a pleasing shade of honey. While her nose, and recently, her teeth were features she could tolerate, she despised her over-voluptuous lips, and pasty, freckled complexion. Her figure was pleasing to others, but a burden to herself, lamenting the small size of her breasts and the, what she thought, substantial size of her bottom. All in all, a very unremarkable looking girl, Hermione thought with a small degree of misery.
It then occurred to Hermione to feel ashamed for feeling miserable about her looks, when she should be feeling miserable about the loss of a beloved uncle. She was almost done with feeling sadness about losses. She had lost Hagrid, Dumbledore, Lupin, and hundreds of others in the final battle, and the experience had all but numbed her to human emotion. She had returned home to relax, but instead encountered yet another loss.
Hermione sat patiently during the will reading, waiting to hear what her father had inherited. She had no expectations for herself. She glanced beside her and gave a small smile. Young Dinah was earnestly trying to copy her mannerisms as she sat, feigning interest in the proceedings. The little girl was fast on the way to falling asleep in her chair.
What Ralph's lawyer read off nearly made Hermione fall out of hers.
Hermione was now the heiress to an enormous fortune, every penny her uncle owned, and his manor in Scotland.
"Pardon me?" Hermione blurted out. Her family let out a chorus of shushes, apparently nonplussed by what had just been spoken. That was the way of most of the Granger family, not a one of them expected any great reward, and none of them looked enviously on those who received more than the other. Most of them, with the exception of Hermione, remained very uncompetitive folk. Hermione had inherited her competitive streak from her mother's side of the family.
After the proceedings, Hermione was congratulated by numerous members of the family. Her Aunt Rena had been appointed the official caretaker of Hermione's fortune. She was an accountant.
"Now Uncle Ralph already has an appointed staff, and I'll take care of their wages, Hermione. You needn't lift a finger to do anything," Rena assured her.
"But what is this manor in Scotland? I thought Uncle Ralph lived 3 blocks down from me."
"Our uncle was a very rich man, Hermione, he has several residences, you only inherited one."
"But what am I to do with it?"
Rena smiled at her niece.
"Well, live in it for one thing. You're out of school now, a grown girl needs a place of her own. You could invite your school chums to come and live with you if you'd like. That would fill up a few of those old rooms." Invite Harry and Ron to live with her? It struck Hermione as a sensible thing to do. Ron couldn't live with his mother forever, and Harry hadn't currently been making any plans to move out of the Weasley home either. It would do for a while, as a bit of a reward to all of them, living in the lap of luxury. Of course Hermione would reside at a dormitory once she started at the Wizarding University, and whatever Ron and Harry wanted to do once the summer ended was entirely up to them. The manor would be a safe haven, a vacation home, but not a real practical home. Hermione couldn't conceive of living in a grand place for the rest of her days, it just wasn't very Hermione-like. No, one summer of luxury would do, and then it was back to normality. There, good plan.
Uncle Ralph, Hermione learned, had named his estate "The Grange", part as a play on his last name, the other as a dedication to an estate in his long dead wife's favorite novel "Wuthering Heights" . Ralph's love for his wife was legendary in the Granger family. He had been utterly devoted to the frail, sickly young woman whom he had known ever since he was a teenager. It had been a shock to see the witty, sharp tongued young man led around so easily by the small, beautiful Hermione Emilia Heloise Danvers. She had died of complications in child birth only 2 years after their marriage. The child did not survive, and Ralph never remarried. Hermione was always fascinated hear stories about her namesake. Of course, Ralph had always humored her, using a bit of exaggeration in some of the tales.
As planned, Ron and Harry joined Hermione at "The Grange", all three of them in awe of how sprawling and well-kept the estate was.
"Uncle Ralph was a perfectionist," Hermione explained. That would explain the perfection of a home he spent minimal time at. "The Grange" was like the Taj Mahal in that it was more like a shrine to the deceased Hermione than a home to Ralph.
"Oh, look, we have neighbors," Hermione commented, gazing across the lawn to a home in the distance.
"I wonder who lives there, I hope our neighbor isn't some kind of git," said Ron.
Across the distance, at the home the trio had surveyed, lived a man they all knew and feared. He was currently staring curiously in the direction of "The Grange" wondering who had finally taken residence there, and hoping they wouldn't be a nuisance and interfere with his long needed early retirement.
His name was Severus Snape.
