A/N: I hope this chapter will start to show you a bit of a different side to Bellatrix and Rodolphus, but I'll be curious to hear if you lot just think they are totally irredeemable, too. You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Tremendous thank you to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter and just giving me all sorts of support!
Please let me know what you thought of chapter eight and be on the lookout for chapter nine later this week!
Hermione stretched her arms up over her head, delighting in the feel of her muscles loosening after another night in her cramped bed. Her arm knocked into her nightstand, nearly sending her alarm clock to its demise on her floor.
Scrambling, she caught it and looked at it blearily. She struggled to focus on the numbers, unable to believe that they could possibly be right. It was showing past ten o'clock.
"Fuck!" she whispered under her breath, furious with herself and that damned Theo Nott.
Shoving aside her unicorn comforter, she sprung out of the warmth of her bed and began frantically digging around her closet looking for something to wear. Hopping into her jeans, she let out a squeal when she lost her balance and tipped over to the side, falling into the wall with a loud bang.
God, she couldn't remember the last time that she was late for school. But this — this was a whole new level! This was truancy! She was turning into a bad kid.
A chuckle from the doorway caught her attention. "I was wondering when you were going to wake up," her Mum said, looking at her with a fond sort of grin. Her wild black hair was pulled up into a bun on the top of her head, with curly little ringlets going this way and that.
"How can you be so calm?" Hermione demanded, in too much shock at her irresponsibility to think about much more than zipping up her jeans. "I completely overslept and I've already missed so many classes. I'm so late for school!"
Her Mum was still smiling at her. "I'm being so calm because there is nothing to worry about," she answered.
"Of course there is. I can't just not show up — I can't just skip!" Hermione argued back, flustered and annoyed.
"Don' t worry, I called the school," her Mum cut her off, before stepping inside the room.
That caught Hermione's attention, making her still immediately. "You called the school? You, my Mum, called the school?" She repeated, feeling incredibly suspicious of this whole situation. This would mean that her Mum was actually taking responsibility for her, for once. "And what did you tell them?"
"I told them that you'd be out sick today," she answered, shrugging her shoulders. "So there's no need to be running around like some sort of dervish."
"But I'm not sick," Hermione countered, standing still like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Hungover is a kind of sick in this home," her Mum answered with a smirk.
Hermione's heart sank when she realized that her parents must have figured out that she'd gone out the night before, though she wasn't sure how exactly. They hadn't been home when she'd stumbled her way up to her bed. "I'm not—" she stammered, awkwardly.
"Please," her Mum rolled her eyes. "I'm not stupid, Hermione. I know a hangover when I see one."
She blushed, feeling caught and guilty. "Why are you not making a big deal out of this?" She demanded. If Sirius, or Remus for that matter, had thought that she was hungover in their house, she would have gotten a huge lecture about making good choices. She had never bothered to wonder why that rule only seemed to apply to her and instead just focused on keeping to the rule. She didn't sneak out or go to parties with boys. Ever.
"Because it isn't a big deal. Look, Honey, I know that you are a very smart and responsible girl. How your father and I ended up blessed with you for a daughter I will never understand," she explained looking at Hermione fondly. "If I thought that you were going to make this a regular habit of letting loose a bit with your friends, I promise you that this would be a different conversation."
Hermione bit her tongue to say that her good behavior was likely a byproduct of growing up out of her parents' influence. That wasn't entirely true, she knew. She'd always been…predisposed to being a goody-goody. "How can you say that? You and Dad hardly know me," she said, running her hands up and down her arms to stave off some imaginary cold.
"Because I've seen your marks at school. You are very smart and I know that you are going to go on to do great things," her Mum said. "Even though Sirius might have been able to deprive us of pictures and visits with you did not mean that he was able to cut off all information about you. Your father and I have been watching from afar, both of us amazed with the woman you are growing up to be."
She felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach. Hearing just how much her parents had been able to keep tabs on her — and wanted to keep tabs on her — was unthinkable to her. She'd always sort of been under the impression that she was little more than an accessory to them. Not someone they could be proud of.
"I promise that I won't make this a regular habit," Hermione said solemnly. "No matter how convincing Theo is."
The mention of Theo had her mum's perfectly groomed black eyebrow raising in surprise. "Good," she said with a smirk. "And I wouldn't mention it to your father either. I told him you just had cramps."
Hermione flushed, but was grateful for her Mum's interference. She already felt awful enough for missing classes, she didn't need her until recently absent father on her case too.
Her Mum made to leave the room, stopping at the door frame. "Now, take your time getting dressed," she instructed in a slightly bossy way. "Because then Daddy is going to take you shopping. He wants to cross absolutely everything off that list of yours."
Nodding, Hermione allowed herself to slow down for a while, and locate a jumper that would stave off the chill. Then, she took her time in the bathroom, getting ready slowly. When she made her way downstairs, there was a waffle waiting for her on a plate — one of the frozen ones, not homemade like Remus prepared. Still, it was a thoughtful touch.
Her father was lounging in one of the open chairs at the kitchen table, his brown eyes lighting up when she walked in. He seemed clearer than she'd seen him since she'd been home and wondered if he'd purposefully laid off the alcohol just for her that morning. Ironic.
"How are you feeling, Darling?" he asked, gently. "Mum said you were having some…issues."
She blushed again. She couldn't imagine talking about something like this with Sirius or Remus. They never would have even brought it up, too embarrassed to acknowledge that she might get a period.
"I'm fine," she agreed with a nod. "Nothing a hot water bottle and some pain medicine can't fix."
Her father looked relieved to hear that. "Good. Then, you'll be up for a little shopping trip after breakfast," he said, not batting an eye at the fact that it was nearer to lunch than breakfast. "I'm intent on spoiling you. We can get absolutely anything you want."
Hermione wasn't entirely sure what to say to that. She was glad that she would have the necessities that she needed but she didn't want him to splurge on her if he was only doing it because he thought it would buy her love. She couldn't be bought with material things…especially not after being abandoned for so many years.
Only…maybe she needed to start giving her parents the benefit of the doubt. They hadn't tried to abandon her. It was clear that they had absolutely wanted her in their lives.
Swallowing a lump in her throat and blinking to stave off the prickle of tears in her eyes, Hermione pushed that thought from her head and instead focused on eating the waffle in front of her, even though she barely tasted the sticky sweetness of the syrup.
When she was done, her father led her to the car and she slipped into the passenger's side, before staring out the window up at Theo's townhouse. She wondered if he was in there right now or if he'd been sent out on some little task for Riddle. She tried not to remember the ghost of his lips against her jaw or think about what might have happened if she'd just let him kiss her.
They were off to the department store not too long after, her Dad peppering her with questions about her favorite subjects in school. He even opened up a bit about his time at school. She learned that he'd gone to a vocational school and had begun his studies to become an electrician, which it sounded like he had some aptitude for.
Hermione frowned, wondering what life could have been like if he'd just stayed on that path. It would have been a good job, with good money. But it obviously hadn't been as lucrative as working with Riddle had become. It didn't seem worth it to her, but it obviously was for her parents, who didn't seem to mind doing illegal things to get ahead.
When they got to the department store, they first went to look at beds, even though that item hadn't been on Hermione's list.
"I think that you are probably old enough now to have a double bed," her father said with a wry grin. "Just don't think about inviting any boys up into your room then."
Hermione flushed nearly all the way to her roots. "I don't — you don't have to worry about that," she stuttered. "I promise that there are no boys trying to sneak into my bedroom."
He just rolled his eyes in response. "I was a teenage boy once, remember?" he countered. "I know exactly what kinds of things they will try to get away with."
"Ew, gross, Dad," Hermione answered, filled with revulsion at the suggestion. "I don't want to think about you and Mum like that."
Her father was not bothered by the rebuke. "Let's just say that I know what I'm talking about," he added.
Hermione shuddered at the thought, but wanted to reassure him. "Well, I don't think you need to worry about me," she answered. "I'm not exactly...overrun with gentleman suitors."
It was true. Hermione hadn't had so much as a date, though that wasn't to say that she was completely clueless when it came to boys. Unbidden, the memory of her and Harry practicing kissing when they were thirteen popped into her head — that had certainly been humiliating. And then of course, she'd once had a brief one week summer romance with Viktor the year prior when they'd gone out of the country, but it hadn't lasted, with the international distance between them.
Her Dad had gone silent and was looking at her out of the corner of his eye, studying her — looking like he knew something that she didn't. "You are a pretty girl. I wouldn't be surprised if you had...interested parties that you just didn't know about," he said, gently, perhaps thinking that she needed some sort of ego boost.
"Thanks Dad," she said, awkwardly, knowing that he was trying his best.
"But, it's good to know that you have your priorities straight — doing well in school, focusing on your homework," he said. It was clear that he was proud of her.
And honestly, Hermione was rather focused on her school work. If that meant that boys weren't as interested in her, it didn't really bother her. Love, and all it's messy complications, could come later.
Satisfied with the bed she selected, Hermione went to go look at the bedding while her father arranged for it to be brought out to their house. She found a nice, fluffy white comforter that was sure to stave off the winter cold in the coming months, but most importantly was a vast improvement on her current hot pink unicorn sheets.
Then — last but not least — they went to pick out a desk. Hermione spent the most time on this because she did intend to spend a lot of time sitting at it, studying for her exams. Even though she'd gone through this major life upheaval, she was determined to do as well as she could.
Speaking of...she knew that she should probably get the notes that she missed, but she didn't really fancy calling 'round to Sirius's house to talk to Harry about it, not after the way that they'd left things the day before. She wondered if Sirius had explained to Harry what had happened, but she doubted it. Besides, she didn't think that her Mum would love her calling Sirius or Harry, even though she didn't understand her mum's animosity towards him.
It would be better to just wait until they spoke at school the next day.
Once everything on her list was crossed off, Hermione followed her father to the register so they could pay for everything. She tried not to act too surprised when he pulled out a massive stack of bills and began peeling back hundreds to pay for her new furniture. They always tried to keep as much off of the books as possible.
Her father led her back towards the car, stopping briefly at the women's department. "I don't suppose it would be much fun to have a shopping spree with your old Dad, would it?" he asked, looking at the racks and racks of clothing. "Better save that one for Mum. Or maybe your Aunt."
Hermione cringed at the idea of going shopping with someone as unknown as her Aunt Narcissa or something with as different tastes from her as her Mum. "That's okay, Dad," she sought to reassure him. "I've got everything I need."
"Yes, but all teenage girls have wants," he argued back. "I've missed out on ten years of wants with you, so you'll just have to settle for being a little spoiled."
She chewed at her lower lip, trying to think up a reasonable compromise. "Maybe it would be better for me to go shopping with some friends," she suggested. It would be comical to go shopping with Harry and Ron, but maybe someone else would be suitable. "I've recently become friendly with a girl from the neighborhood. Daphne."
Her father was pleased to hear the name, obviously familiar with the Greengrasses. "That would be fun," he said, before pulling out his wad of cash again, and began counting out twenties. Hermione thought she saw about two hundred pounds when he handed it over to her. "That should probably be good for a week's allowance, right?"
She nearly choked at the suggestion, but pocketed the money anyway. "Maybe a month's allowance," she said. "Most kids wouldn't know what to do with this much money every week."
"Well, you aren't most kids, Hermione. You are a Lestrange," he answered with a wink.
Hermione resisted the urge to correct him. She hadn't been a Lestrange for a long time.
She was expecting for them to go right back home after the impromptu shopping trip, but her father surprised her once again by pulling into the parking lot of a grocery store. "What are we doing here?" she asked.
"It's come to my attention that we don't have much by way of food at home," he said, sounding regretful. "Your Mum and I...well, we tend to just grab food when we are out and about. And we didn't think about how you'd slot into that again."
"No, you didn't," Hermione agreed, unable to stop a little bit of her anger from slipping back into her words. Even if she did believe that her parents desperately wanted her back — which she could admit that she did — they hadn't done a very good job of preparing for her return. It made her feel like an afterthought, a less integral part to their lives than their work.
Properly chastised, her father's gaze dropped to her lap. "I know I need to fix that," he said, sombre. "So, let's go in and get all your favorites so you will have plenty to eat. I can't pretend like we are suddenly going to have family dinners or shite like that—"
"I'd never ask for that," she quipped.
"— but you'll at least have everything that you need to be well fed."
Hermione looked him over and saw how out of his depth he was. She knew that he was trying and even though she hated giving him credit for doing the absolute bare minimum, she could feel herself softening. "Alright," she agreed.
"Alright?" he repeated, waiting for her nod, before getting out of the car and leading the way inside.
He didn't rush her through the store, letting her take her time to go up and down the aisles and pick everything that she needed, including a plethora of fresh fruits and vegetables. Remus usually did the cooking at Sirius's, but she knew that she could make some of the staples. It would be enough to get by.
Rodolphus didn't complain, even as their trolley was soon bursting with food, stocking up on all sorts of dry goods. And, in turn, Hermione pretended not to notice when he slipped some of his favorite sugar cereal into the cart either. Or chocolates, which she suspected were for her.
It was... oddly fun in a weird way, going grocery shopping with her father. It was the most time that they'd spent together in god knows how long, but it was comfortable. Well, aside from the strange looks they were getting from little old ladies who did their shopping in the middle of the day. She supposed they weren't expecting to see such a heavily tattooed man with a well put together teenager.
He even helped her load all the groceries into the bags, then into the trunk and when they returned home he carried them all into the kitchen. He sat with her while she organized everything in the cupboards just the way that she wanted, insisting that it was her kitchen.
Hermione listened in rapt attention as he began reminiscing about his Grandma Lestrange's recipes and was surprised to learn that her dumplings were his favorite meal by and far. She asked to see a recipe if he had one and he promised to look through his boxes for one.
By the end of the day, she realized that she had actually enjoyed spending time with her father, despite the surly way that she'd behaved so far. Yes, she was still unhappy about being taken away from Sirius, but if she was pressed she could concede that maybe this year wouldn't be as bad as she thought it would.
But then, the illusion was shattered when her Mum came in and informed her that they had to leave for the night and not to wait up. They had business with Tom and had to leave right away, leaving Hermione to an empty house once again.