Chapter 2
Hermione may have dreaded coming back to Britain, but she was excited to teach, even if it was for a short period between reviewing the student's curriculum. She had always envisioned herself working her way up in the Ministry before she left for France, but this position gave her hope.
She was here to teach, support Camellia, and face her past before going back to the continent.
Hermione woke hours before her first class and decided to take a short walk around the castle before breakfast was served.
Hermione might have loathed the silence after the war but she learned to enjoy it when it came paired with the peace and serenity of the morning.
She let her feet lead her though the halls and passages from her youth. Two decades were clearly not enough for the castle to be wiped from her memory.
Perhaps she would need some whisky later.
When the sun was finally above the horizon, Hermione headed to the Great Hall, her fingers tracing the stone walls as she walked. She could smell breakfast before she even reached the doors.
Her stomach growled.
She hadn't had much to eat, she had been much too nervous to do anything but drink and breathe deeply.
Especially when she saw the first years.
They sent her back but Hermione quickly pushed the memories back.
She wondered if her old friends were happy. She wondered if she should reach out after so many years away. Hermione doubted that they would do the same.
Hermione made herself comfortable at her place at the professor's able before she tucked into the breakfast. Luckily, she was the first to arrive, so etiquette went right out the window as she piled on her plate with eggs, grilled tomatoes, potatoes, and ham.
She was half way done with her plate when Hagrid walked in.
"'Ermione!" He called.
Hermione's head snapped up, mouth full of food. Merlin, did coming back to Hogwarts turn her into Ron?
She chewed her food fully before calling back, "Hi, Hagrid. Long time no see."
The half-giant pulled the chair to Hermione's right out and sat down. "How have you been, 'Mione? It's been a long time."
Hermione blushed, "It has, hasn't it? I was out of the country… I needed time away."
Hagrid hummed, "The war was hard— Cant blame ya for leaving. We should have tea back at my hut when yer free."
Hermione agreed and turned her attention back to her plate as more students and faculty filed in. Pansy perked up at the sight of her, giving her an odd look before the former Slytherin invited herself to the seat to Hermione's left.
"You're up…" Pansy said, her voice trailing off, "How did you sleep?"
Hermione shrugged, "I've had worse night. I've forgotten just how homey Hogwarts could be."
Pansy hummed as she took in a sip of tea. "This can be good for us," she said after a long moment, "maybe… maybe we'll actually get somewhere this year."
Hermione only half heard Pansy, her eyes watching the familiar first years walking into the Great Hall, "Maybe," Hermione muttered.
Thankfully, the rest of breakfast went on quietly.
Hermione quickly headed to class and by the end of her first group of students— fourth years— she was ready for a drink. It seemed that Professor Slughorn had neglected to teach them the basics. Hermione would have to re-plan the entirety of the year to make sure they were ready for OWLs and eventually there NEWTs.
Class after class Hermione let her students and professors know that if they had any questions at all that they should come to her after class or Friday afternoons when she would be in her classroom grading papers. A few students scribbled down her office hours but most didn't even look like they heard her.
By Hermione's last class observation, she was ready to throw herself off the Astrology Tower. She knew the first years would be the hardest, but sitting across carbon copies of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy was a new hell Hermine wasn't completely ready for.
She really didn't need to start crying on the first day of classes.
No.
Now she really wished she hadn't said yes to McGonagall.
It was the end of her time with the first years when Albus Potter walked up to her desk. A Slytherin Potter was interesting enough, but this boy was so shy it was strange.
"Can I help you, ?" She asked with a forced smile.
"You were friends with my dad and uncle right?" he asked, his cheeks tinged pink.
Hermione's tight smile faltered a little. Did they talk about her? Even after her falling out with Ron?
"I am," she said thickly.
"Aunt Lavender talks about you a lot. She says you're really smart," He said seemingly ignorant of how uncomfortable Hermione was.
Hermione cleared her throat, "That's nice to hear." She said, "Is there something I can help you with?"
Albus shook his head, "I just wanted to say hello."
And just like that, the little Slytherin turned and walked away.
Merlin, he even shared Harry's walk.
Hermione stood and gathered her paperwork before locking the Potion's Room.
"Aunt Hermione."
Hermione jumped, whipping her wand out and pointing it at the source of the sound of her name.
Camellia.
She almost hexed her own goddaughter. Merlin she needed a drink.
"Sorry, love," Hermione whispered, tucking her wand away, "you gave me a scare."
Camellia chuckled, "I could see that." She said, "I wanted to talk with you with that's okay."
Hermione froze. She took in the young witch. Camellia avoided looking in Hermione's eyes, she was picking at her fingers and she moved from foot to foot.
"What's wrong? Did someone say something?" The muggle-born asked, "Do I need to get your mother."
Camellia shook her head, "No! I just want to talk to you."
Hermione pursed her lips, "Then come on, lets have tea in my rooms. No need to talk around prying ears."
The walk to Hermione's chamber was an awkward one to say the least. She didn't know Camellia to get in trouble where she couldn't talk to her own mother. Harry might have fathered her but despite her temperament, she was as impulsive.
Hermione unlocked her chamber doors and invited Camellia in. The black-haired witch made herself comfortable on the couch in front of the fire place while Hermione put on a kettle.
"You're rooms are nice, Aunty Mi," she whispered.
Hermione immediately abandoned the tea on the counter, padding over and taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch.
"What's going on, Camellia?" Hermione asked, "You never call my Aunty Mi unless something's wrong. Are you sure no one said anything to you?"
Camellia nodded, picking at her fingers again.
"Mellia?" Hermione pressed, "What is it?"
The young witch sighed, "I saw his other kids today." Her voice was barley above a whisper, "I know that the situations are different and that mum doest like to talk about it but I really don't know anything about my father and when I saw his kids I just…" She sighed again, "I don't know. It's hard telling everyone I don't know who my father is when I share a common room with one of his sons, you know?"
Hermione's shoulders fell. "Oh sweetheart," Hermione breathed, "it's okay to asks questions."
Camellia moved closer to Hermione, "So, can you tell me about him then?"
"Well," Hermione said, leaning back against the armrest, "he was my best friend before I moved to France and re-met your mum." Hermine sighed, "He's very loyal and his heart is the right place but sometimes he makes stupid decisions… well, most of the time."
Camellia looked down at her hands, "Do you think that leaving my mom was a stupid decision?"
There is was, the question she really wanted to ask.
"I cant answer that question, 'Mellia," Hermione said, "but I can say that you mum has tried everything so you don't feel his absence."
"I know," she muttered, "I just can't help thinking about the what ifs and since coming back here I cant help button think it was a mistake."
Hermione reached over and put her hand one Camellia's hand. Hermione knew the sixth year was right but what done was done.
"We've been in Britain for three weeks. It's only been a day at Hogwarts … maybe things will look up…" Hermione squeezed Camellia's hand, receiving a squeeze in return, "If you still don't want to stay we can always move back to France at the end of the year so you can finish up your last year."
"Promise?" Camellia whispered.
"On my wand, I promise, love." Hermione pulled away, "Have you talked to your mum about how you're feeling?"
A shake of the head was the only answer Hermione got.
"I can talk to her if you want."
Another shake of the head.
"I will when I'm ready… I am a Gryffindor after all," Camellia looked at Hermione with watery eyes.
"That you are," Hermione replied, "now lets get you to bed."
Hermione stood and offered her hand to her goddaughter. They walked together to Gryffindor tower and before Camellia crossed the changing stair cased she turned and hugged Hermione.
"You're the best godmum anyone could ask for," She whispered.
"And I coolant ask for a braver goddaughter," Hermione pulled away, "now off to bed. You have class bright and early."
Hermione crossed her arms as she watched Camellia whisper the password into the Gryffindor common room. She looked back at Hermione it twisted her heart to see how alike her mother. With a final nod the witch turned and disappear with the portrait shutting behind her.
She sighed for the unknown time that day. "I know you're there Pansy," she said, "I can feel you worrying from here."
Hermione turned on her heal and rose her eyebrow as the witch stepped out of an alcove.
"I'm sorry for following you two… I just saw she wasn't at dinner and I got worried." Pansy reasoned.
Hermione gave a tight lipped smile, "I know. She's just having a hard time adjusting. I think being homeschooled then suddenly being around so many people in her classes is a lot more jarring than we initially thought."
Pansy nodded towards the hallway, "Fancy a walk?"
The muggle-born shrugged, following Pansy's lead. Hermione walked silently knowing the questions were coming. It didn't take as long Hermione thought it would, which was a record where Pansy was concerned. Say would you would but Pansy was a patient woman.
"Is— is it something that would break goddaughter and godmother confidentiality?" She asked, nonchalantly examining her nails.
It was anything but nonchalant.
"No," Hermione answered, "She just asked about Harry. I think her seeing his sons is hard on her."
Pansy made a noise in the back of her throat, "But we talked about this," she muttered.
"I know," Hermione said, "but I still think that she hasn't fully grasped Harry as a person. He's always been a concept to her and now seeing that he's real and that he's out there with a family… She had questions, most of which I can't answer."
Pansy raised her brows, "Well, she'll come to me when she's ready. Give her time, that's what you always said."
An awkward silence fell between the two witches.
"Have you seen him yet?" Pansy asked.
Hermione turned to her friend with a questioning look, "Seen who?"
"Scorpius Malfoy."
And just like that, any peace Hermione might have had shattered.
"He looks just like—"
Hermione interrupted, "—Don't. Pansy please don't."
The black-haired witch grabbed Hermione's sleeve and stopped walking. Pansy looked at Hermione with tears clinging to her lashes.
"You haven't even visited," Pansy started only to be interrupted again.
"— I don't want to talk about this," Hermione rasped, "I can't."
"Okay," was the only reply.
Pansy left Hermione in the hallway. They both knew it was for the best.
The potion's mistress stood in the cold for a moment, forcing her body to stop trembling. Eventually she made it back to her rooms where she dissolved into tears.
Perhaps she would take up tea with Hagrid the next morning.
