Well, I guess it's time to continue the Hermione/Narcissa/Robert/Draco story.It's been a few days since I uploaded and everyone has been patient so as a reward, the next installment will be uploaded! Yay! Well, that and I was able to write a few more pages tonight. Anyway...
I appreciate everyone' comments and things for this story so far. As I keep saying, I like getting feedback for this story cos it gives me an indication of how it's going and if something isn't right, it can be noted to be fixed later on. So without further ado, I will move to Comments re: the last installment.
Macey Muse: Well, Ron and Draco will find out in due course, but for now, the secret is safe with me!
Rocks-my-socks: Prayers have been answered! That is what happens in this installment, but that is enough for now...
earth-guide: Hey, thanks for that, I'm glad it's relatively new (although the concept wasn't mine to begin with, the storyline is). But this chapter wasn't uploaded as frequently as the other ones. Hopefully it wasn't too late tho.
kat6528: Welcome aboard, and thanks for all the chapter reviews!
Little Black Poko-chan: I hope in that fic Hermione and Draco are NOT related tho... ;-) Don't worry; I highly doubt anyone but Paris Hilton would get these sorts of presents. But they are dentists so I thought that they would have a fair bit of cash lying around. For the record, I think Paris Hilton is a skank or a hoe, whatever word you would like to use.
Loving the reviews people, thanks for them!
On to the next installment...
17th September, 2001
10:12pm
What a day!
No sooner was she in the door that Hermione was ready to crash onto her bed. It had been a huge and exhausting day, filled with drinks at the Leaky Cauldron as well as shopping and the theatre in Muggle London, much to the amusement of Harry and Hermione. Ginny and Ron were not very accustomed to Muggle traditions and still found it exciting every time they stepped onto an escalator. They had gone to watch "Zoolander" at Hermione's request. Spending a day at the movies was something that Hermione missed while she was at Hogwarts and now working at St. Mungo's. It seemed perhaps quite juvenile but it was something that she took for granted when she was living at home. The day was made all the more better watching Ron's and Ginny's reactions to the big screen.
She was about to go and crash on her bed when her father wandered out from the study. He looked incredibly beaten, and upon closer inspection, Hermione noticed that he had been drinking.
"Dad?"
"I'm glad I've caught you, Hermione," he muttered, even though he didn't look it. "I was wondering if I could have a word with you."
This worried Hermione a bit. It was not like her father to drink by himself in the study, especially at that hour of the night.
"Sure."
As they wandered back into the study, he asked, "How was your day?"
"Oh it was really good; they sure know how to spoil someone." She knew he was stalling for time.
He sighed wearily, perhaps from fatigue or the after-affects of the alcohol. "I'm glad you had a good day. And I'm sorry that this couldn't wait until the morning but it is something quite important."
"Okay."
"You neglected to open one other gift this morning. Did you not see this envelope on the coffee table?" He gave said envelope to her.
Hermione studied it carefully. It was the same sort of envelope that had obviously come from a wizard or witch, judging by the type of paper used. Turning it over, the seal was another giveaway to that discovery. Nothing new really, given she was a witch herself but the seal was one that Hermione had not come across in her time in the Wizarding World. The wax was dark green and the seal itself was an eagle. The eagle was perched above a letter – "M". No family came to mind that began with the letter M that Hermione could think of who wanted to write to her. She looked at it in great wonder before actually opening it. Robert gave a sigh of impatience that prompted Hermione to look at him and start to open the envelope.
Reading the name at the bottom of the page, Hermione gasped for perhaps the twentieth time that day then went back to read the letter:
Dear Hermione,
First of all, I must say congratulations on reaching your 21st birthday relatively unscathed. I know that there have been times when it seemed that perhaps you would not even make your Hogwarts graduation, so for that I say 'Well Done'.
I feel the need to explain myself. You are no doubt wondering why I am writing to you when you and my son, Draco despised each other throughout your school years. You do not need to worry; I was completely aware of this fact and have nothing against you for feeling that way. Draco seems to take after his (now deceased) father quite a lot in that respect. I can only be thankful that he did not choose the same path of fate. I digress; I'm merely sidetracking from the reason for writing.
There is no easy way to say this, but I know that you have grown up not knowing the identity of your real mother. I cannot tell you how sorry I am for that or how happy I am that your father chose someone so caring and thoughtful to help raise you. Hermione, I am your real mother.
At this point Hermione stood still, staring blankly at the page for what seemed like hours. She had always known that Jane was not her real mother. Her father had insisted that she (partly) know the truth in that respect. He never divulged the identity of her real mother, saying only that she cared a great deal for her and that she was someone who he had met a long time ago and who could not, for her family's sake, keep seeing him. Now she understood why.
Hermione looked at her father. He looked back at her sadly, giving her the impression that he was not yet over the heartache that this caused him. Her own heart panged for him. It must have been extremely hard to have fallen in love with someone and not be able to keep seeing them, for the sake of the family. Yet the very thought that she was Malfoy's half-sister was something that she could not really take all that easily. All throughout their Hogwarts days he had taunted her and called her Mudblood. This only stopped in their final year for some still unknown reason.
She realised that she was only half-way through the letter.
It continued:
I have watched you grow up from afar and I can only marvel at the way your father and Jane have raised you. From what he has told me and from what I hear from Draco, you are exceptionally talented in anything that is put forth to you. He has informed me of your grades throughout your schooling, including your times at the Muggle schools, and I see that you continue to excel. You truly take after your father. I know how smart he is, although I'd like to think that you received my talent in magic. After all, your father couldn't very well have given you that as I'm sure you already know.
This brings me to my second reason for writing. Hermione, my one request to you is that you allow me to meet you. I have always wanted for you to see me as I see you; my own flesh and blood. I know this will come as a shock and given your past animosity towards Draco and Lucius, I do not blame you if you do not wish to. I only hope that you will give great thought to it and do what you feel is right, whichever way that is. Please note that if you do not wish to meet me, I will not hold anything against you for it. I cannot say how horrible it must have felt for you that your birth mother did not partake in any of the special events of your life. I only hope that in due time, you can forgive me, or at least allow me to meet you, if only once.
Once again, I cannot tell you how sorry I am for missing the events of your life. I have, as mentioned above, heard everything that you have done and am extremely proud of you.
Happy Birthday, Hermione.
Sincerely,
Narcissa Malfoy.
The silence in the room was overwhelming. Hermione could only stand still, unable to move from the spot that she had first taken up when reading the letter. It was still something that she was unable to take; Narcissa Malfoy being her real mother. How was one meant to take that? It was not exactly a concept that one found extraordinarily believable, nor great by any means. The woman (her mother, Hermione kept reminding herself) did not exactly spend quality time with her throughout her life. And how could her father have fallen in love with her? She was a Black for Christ's sake! Just when did that opportunity arise for him to cross her path? Why would Narcissa even consider a Muggle when she married the one person who despised Muggles perhaps the most behind Voldemort himself? How could she after what she did to her father?
Hermione looked back at Robert. He only continued to look at her with mournful eyes and a dullness that always seemed to hang over drunks. Now that she had a better look, he really must have been quite pissed. Robert was not usually the sort to drink big quantities of alcohol in any one session but tonight, that was exactly what he had done, or so it seemed.
"Dad," Hermione questioned. "Don't tell me she isn't kidding." Although she knew quite seriously that this letter was no joke.
"It is, Hermione," was his only response.
She read over the letter again. Well, Narcissa could certainly write a convincing letter. However it was not the Narcissa who Hermione had grown up to believe existed. The one she knew was just as bad as her son (and Hermione's half brother, something else that she found entirely astonishing). Perhaps it was all just an act? A way to create a sort of fantasy life to fool those who surrounded her? How else would her father have fallen in love with her? He was a smart man; someone who wouldn't just accept anyone from off the street for a quick shag and one night stand. He had morals; even when he was younger, Hermione knew for certain. All of Robert's close friends spoke of how mature the young Robert Granger was, despite his age. His closest friend of all and the man who Hermione had always felt was like a favourite uncle, John Westwood, never ceased to tell her that her father could spot a phony person from a mile away. 'Very perceptive, your father is, and I believe that he has not been fooled by any man or woman throughout his life so far.' He always spoke highly of her father; making Hermione feel just a little proud that she was his daughter, as many people also pointed out.
The conclusion to this little thought was that maybe she had Narcissa entirely wrong. Or perhaps Robert had indeed been fooled by someone, albeit only once. Once enough to change the course of his life forever. Either way, this did not change the fact that Hermione was half-Black and hence a half-Malfoy (seeing as that was Narcissa's married name and the name that she would take to her grave).
"So," Robert interrupted her thoughts. "What did you want to hear?"
"Sorry?" she asked him.
"I asked if you wanted to hear 'why'?"
"Oh."
She continued to look at him in a manner of one who has just been accused of lying. Her father knew how to intimidate her; yet she couldn't understand why he would do it to her now.
"You don't want me to tell you that 'yes, I made a mistake? Your mother is a witch? I fell in love with someone who was destined to break my heart and make a fool of me? There you go, I've just said it."
He became more and more agitated with each sentence. This was not like her father at all. He never lost his patience to this degree. It could only be put down to the amount of alcohol that he had been drinking throughout the night.
"Dad, why would I blame you?"
"Because, everything that you have been led to believe has almost been a lie. I have never disclosed the identity of your mother. You have grown up believing one story when in truth it is another. Your perception of your mother is one that cannot change overnight. You hate her, I know, and that's something that I cannot change, nor share the opinion of."
Hermione took a step closer to her father and matched his voice. "How can you say that?"
"Why wouldn't you think that? She had never once made contact with you personally. Furthermore, she is the mother of the one person that constantly made yours and your friends' lives a living hell throughout school. For all you've known, she may have been dead."
"I don't believe this! Dad, do you think I blame you for not having my real mother in my life?"
"Everyone else seemed to when they found out about you."
Her father was sounding childish, something that was extremely foreign to Hermione. His reasoning was fair enough but she felt no remorse for her upbringing. Considering he had very little choice, she felt that he had done considerably well, given circumstances.
"Well I don't! I did have a mother in my life! You made sure of that. I've only ever known Jane to be my mother. I know you told me from a young age that she was not my real mother but it has never felt like that. She accepted me as her own and made sure that everything was done for me in the right way and that I would be looked after throughout my life. Come on, Dad, I know that you feel that this whole thing is your fault but it's not! It's Narcissa's – my own mother's – fault as well. I don't know what sort of person you were led to believe that she was, but I've known in my encounters with her son – well, my half-brother now – that she is a very smart woman who knows how to get her own way when she wants to. She is very good at deviousness and can manipulate the minds of others quite well. She would not have survived at Malfoy Manor otherwise."
Throughout this, Robert seemed to quieten down a little. He still was red in the face and looked shamed but Hermione's words had softened his face somewhat. He felt for the big oak desk in the middle of the study and leant against it.
"I'm sorry for all this, Hermione. But please don't think that she was entirely at fault; it was equally my fault as well. I don't want you to have the wrong impression of her; after all, she is your birth mother. She may have appeared quite hard and deceitful on the outside in past encounters with her, but you did not see her that night when she returned to my flat. Nor did you see her when I first met her.
"I truly fell in love, Hermione. I know you can't believe this, but it's true. What's more, I believe she fell in love as well. I could not think of another reason why she would choose to have a child that – please don't take offence to this – was otherwise scorned upon to the rest of her family. Throughout your life, she continued to ask about you and she never failed to remember your birthday." At this Hermione went to protest. "Please let me finish," he pleaded, raising a hand to stop her from interrupting. "I know I just said that she took no part in your life but in actual fact she did. She has dealt with you many times, although not physically. That was to protect both herself and you. She was the one who funded your entire education, including your primary school years."
Hermione gasped. But she was a Muggle! Narcissa was a pure-blood! She was also her mother, she had to remember.
"Yes," Robert continued, acknowledging her reaction. "Your early education was funded by Narcissa. In fact, she didn't just fund that, she funded a lot of other things as well. She had wanted for you to experience the joys of life that she was denied. Your first trip to the beach for instance; you visited the beach for the first time when you were two. She was not allowed to venture out of the Black estate until she was 16 where her first beach adventure was when she went on exchange to France. Her host family lived on the Mediterranean Sea. Simple things like that. So even though she did not experience those pleasures in life with you, do not think that she had no part in them at all."
It seemed that perhaps her father was right in who the real Narcissa Malfoy was. He continued with his story.
"Every time you achieved a goal of yours, or even if you simply experienced something new, Narcissa insisted on telling her about it. She knows a great deal more about you than you think."
"But, she's seen me in public!" Hermione protested. "Why didn't she ever say anything to me, or even look in my direction to acknowledge my presence?"
"Who was she in town with?" Robert retorted. "Was it with that horrible Lucius, or her son?"
Hermione looked at her feet, defeated. "Yes."
"That is why. She is a smart woman, Hermione, a lot smarter than most people give her credit for. I have seen the way that she has been trodden into the ground by that sadistic and terrifying husband of hers. Yet, she continues to bounce back, determined that she will not be broken by him. You said so yourself. She is a clever woman who knows how to deal with a Malfoy."
This was all too much for Hermione. She resigned to sit in one of the leather chairs in the corner of the room and think. Robert continued to look at her with the same drunken air as he had earlier, although he did look a little better.
"Anyway," he pressed on, seeing that she would not be saying anything. "The decision is yours to make. She wrote to me as well, telling me on what she wished to ask you. I know that this will be something that you may not want to do but you had a right to know who your real mother was. I only hope that you are happy with the decision that you make. We had both better head off to bed. You need to work tomorrow and so do I."
But neither one of them moved from the study. Hermione continued to stare at her father, who only looked back at her in response. This continued for quite some time, when finally, Hermione felt it was time to talk.
"Can you at least tell me how it all happened?" she asked.
Robert looked at her and smiled sadly. "Very well."
He started from the beginning when Narcissa first approached him that night while he waited for the bus, 21 years ago. All the while, Hermione sat and listened to the story of how her parents met, taking in the details of her father's facial expressions as he recalled those special moments of his own life. She watched him smile in absolute joy when he told her of the night that Narcissa and he had spent together that very first time and how depressed he had felt for the next four weeks, thinking that he would never see her again. When he reached the point where Narcissa returned to his flat and of the conversation that followed, one single tear started to roll down his cheek. At the sight of this, Hermione got up out of her chair and made her way over to her father. She wrapped her arms around him and not a moment later, he reached up to her and held her close. The shared bond over something as unforgettable as a night filled with love and the loss of a mother was too much for both of them. The time continued to pass silently as each of them held the other near.
"She was the one who named you, you know," he informed her, breaking the silence.
This threw Hermione. "Really?"
"Yes. She remembered that I had wanted to name a child of mine after a Greek or Roman god or goddess because of my ancestor's names being so, well, English. She decided, for me, and to keep the tradition in her own family alive, to name you after the daughter of Helen of Troy and King Menelaus of Sparta. Your middle name was to please my own family, maintaining the custom of traditional British names."
"Narcissa – well I should say, Mum – really named me?"
"She did. Contrary to popular belief nowadays, she was very thoughtful. Can you see why I don't believe all the stories that are floating around about her? I choose not to. I knew the truth and that was more than anyone else knew. To me, that was all that mattered."
"I can see now. I won't say that it completely changes my opinion, although perhaps that will change in time. It's still quite difficult to accept at the moment."
"I understand Hermione, really. But please don't believe everything that you hear, especially now that you know the truth."
This revelation over her real mother was trying for both Hermione and her father. However, she knew that there were probably not many other times to ask her father about other details in regards to her. Despite the pain that it caused him to remember such memories, Robert had answered her questions quite willingly and in depth so as to inform her of everything. Hermione decided to push her luck just a little bit further.
"If you knew that she was the one that you loved, then how were you able to move on with your life?"
Robert sighed. "I think it's quite known now that I still haven't gotten over her. You see, I may not have been able to handle it so well had I been completely on my own throughout your life. I had a hand in keeping you to begin with. Your great-aunt Ruth was of great assistance; she was always looking after you if I had too much study to do, which was a lot of the time, actually. Not to mention John, who was always there to take care of you if I just wanted a bit of time off. He was fantastic, in fact. The reason for his wanting to help out was not only to assist a mate, but also for preparation of having a child of his own. The best part, according to him," At this, Robert started to smile, "was the fact that he could give you back at the end of the day."
Hermione laughed. It was very typical of her favourite 'uncle' to say something like that. Every time she saw him, he was always full of jokes and laughter. Sometimes Hermione wondered whether it was to counteract all the dealings with people that required his psychological aid.
Robert continued talking. "Yes, he certainly helped out when things became really tough. John knew how hard it was for me to look after a child to the one person whom I could never be with. The thing was, had I not decided to look after you, I would not have anything to remind me of Narcissa. The truth is; you, Hermione, were the one thing that truly kept me going after Narcissa left that final morning when she dropped you off. She only looked at you with tears in her eyes, saying how much she wished things were different. But I knew that she would still play a part in your life if I promised to keep you. I guess I was a bit selfish in that respect but at the same time, if I didn't have you to look after, I would be a great mess now. So, after we parted our separate ways, I vowed to honour her wishes for you to have a suitable upbringing."
Hermione looked into her father's eyes and saw that they appeared quite glassy. Yes, it was obvious that he was not yet over Narcissa, and it appeared that she was not over him. It kind of made her feel a little annoyed that he married Jane when he clearly loved another woman. Her curiosity got the better of her.
"When was it that you decided to marry?"
Robert shifted uneasily, as if he could sense where this question had come from. He pondered the question a little, perhaps deciding how to put it, then continued.
"You see, you were only two years old. I had just commenced working at my first surgery and money was still a bit tight. Not for you, of course because Narcissa had said that she would fund everything for you and she never broke her word. No, I was still trying to put some money away to buy a house. I guess I would have been able to buy that house much sooner had I not stopped off at the coffee shop after work each night for a late afternoon devonshire tea. Now that I think about it, it served as a reminder of Narcissa – a coffee shop being where it all began. A bit silly of me, really, seeing as I still had a young mouth to feed upon my return. Well, it was at this particular coffee shop that I met Jane. Sure, I'd been out with women throughout that time but it never felt right; we never seemed to click like Narcissa and I did. But Jane was different.
"I was sitting at my usual table inside the window, overlooking the street when I heard the door fly open and a gust of wind follow. Just as I was about to turn around and attack the person who had the nerve to cause such a racket, I heard a voice at the counter saying, 'For God's sake Beryl, give me a cappuccino before I die of fatigue. The blasted conference went for far too long than was expected.' Well, I wasn't too sure what she was talking about, but it quite made me laugh. She turned around to say something and I realised that she heard me. I apologised to her and I don't really know what made me do it, but I asked what sort of conference she had just attended. She proceeded to tell me that it was the Royal Dentist's Academy's 150th anniversary and she was part of a surgery that had a long affiliation with the academy. Needless to say, I was shocked to meet a fellow dentist whom I had never seen in my time at university nor come across in my work.
"We got talking and I found that she was quite easy to talk to. In fact, she was the one person who could get me to talk aside from John and Narcissa. She had also had her fair share of heartache; by the sound of things, it was something quite hurtful as well. This, of course, I didn't learn until much later in the relationship. I had questioned my feelings for her at one stage and discovered that she was feeling exactly the same. For some reason, it made things much easier to bear and we both developed a trust for each other that neither had felt in a long time. That was when I realised that there was life after Narcissa, even if I never stopped loving her."
That was quite satisfactory for Hermione but there was still something that bothered her.
"When did she discover that you had a child?"
"Oh, she knew that very early on in the relationship. It was something that I didn't want to keep from her when I soon realised that she was worth meeting again. At first, she seemed a little apprehensive but when she met you and continued to see you, she fell in love with you as you got to know her."
"So why didn't you ever have children?"
Robert hesitated in his response, but answered a few moments later.
"She was infertile."
Hermione look at him shocked. "That must have been horrible for her, to be looking after someone else's child and none of her own."
"I believe that's also why she found it difficult at the start. However, she was quite determined that she would care for you as if you were her own."
Robert shifted his position and looked at Hermione seriously. "I cannot imagine how hard this contact with you from Narcissa must be for her. Please spare a feeling for her. She knew it was going to happen but you can never prepare for these things."
"That's fine, Dad. Really, I love her as if she was my own mother. She was always there with any crisis that I faced and I can't just forget all that. She is as much a part of my life as what you are, and I guess, as what Narcissa was, despite not physically being there. Although I still can't get over that. I guess that will come with time."
"It will, Hermione. I also hope that you make the right decision in whether to meet her or not."
"I'll certainly have a good think about it, that's for sure."
"That's good." Robert looked at his watch. "Well Hermione, it's 12:30. We really better go to sleep!"
"Wow, is it really? We must have been talking for a long time."
"It was worth it. I hope this talk clarifies a lot of things for you."
"I think it has. Take care, Dad. You have had a lot to drink, you know."
He smiled at her. "Yes, I daresay I won't be having any more of these in a long time."
"I hope not. Goodnight, Dad."
"Goodnight, Hermione."
Comments:
In referal to Hermione's comment that Robert looks pissed - I know that in America the term 'pissed' means to be angry or 'pissed off'. In this context, it means 'drunk'. I dunno if this is just an Aussie term for 'drunk', but anyway.
"...Hermione feel just a little proud that she was his daughter, as many people also pointed out." By this I mean, if someone tells you that you are truly your father's/mother's daughter/son, it means that you are just like them. That is what I meant here – Hermione continues to be told that she is her father's daughter.
Will see when I can update next. Might be a couple of weeks, who knows? I have to write more to the storyline. Although something I just wrote I think sounds pretty cool, not something that usually appears in Hermione fics either. Well, not many anyway.
See y'all...
