Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Marvel or the characters therein. Nor, sadly, do I make any moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.

Hello! And welcome to the next oneshot. Hope you're all doing well. Read, enjoy and, if possible, review.

The Daughter

Hermione stood off fifty feet from where Darcy was crying over their parents' graves. Thor and Jane were comforting her, as they stood there. There was a part of her that wished she could be there, comforting her as well. But Darcy needed this time alone just as much as Hermione had when she had mourned them as well.

Harry walked up next to her, murmuring, "Why didn't you ever tell us that you had a sister?"

"She was my parents' daughter," she answered hoarsely. "I was my mum's from her first marriage. When I went into school at Hogwarts, I was still hanging onto the resentment that my father loved her more, because she was his." Swallowing thickly, she sighed out, "I was angry and wished I was an only child." She wiped the tears away absently. "I love Darcy. I always have. But I was twelve years old and my parents just brought in a little life into the world that I thought meant more than I did to them." She looked to her friend. "Of course, this wasn't the truth." He handed over a handkerchief to her. Thanking him absently, she whispered, "Then the threats and the war…I went to Remus and told him everything…" Looking to her friend, she told him. "There was an attack, Harry." He stood up all the straighter. "We were coming home from the park. I had just bought a pop for her." She looked over to her sister. "The dementors came from three different directions." Pursing her lips, she muttered, "I thought we were going to die." Hermione smiled. "But then some random kid in the park was having so much fun that they laughed."

He blinked at her. "They laughed? What did that do?"

"It had me telling Darcy to think of the one thing that made her the happiest. Something that brought her joy. I told her to think about Mr. Wiggles her stuffed lamb and to laugh. We both laughed." His arm went around her shoulders, as she wept. "It saved us, Harry. I don't know how, but that laughter and happiness created accidental magic that drove the dementors away."

Her face grew more serious. "I was put on trial the same day as you. I was told by Dumbledore not to tell you any of it. My sister…" She looked over to her with her friends again. "They attempted to obliviate her, but it didn't work. The Unspeakables worked with her for a time and discovered that although she may not be magical in the typical sense, she had something in her that protected her mind." Tears welled in her eyes. "Harry, it was decided that it would be for the best that she be moved. I don't know for whose protection they did this—hers or theirs." She wiped her eyes. "I was only fifteen and it wasn't like they would have given me any choice in the matter even if I had been an adult. It was go with what they had wanted or…"

"Or what?" he asked softly.

"Or be obliviated." Sniffling, she said thickly, "My mother was going spare and my father wasn't much better." Hermione lowered her head. "They obliviated them so that they had no memory of her. And they were threatening to do the same to me. I gave up my sister so she could still have some family—even if it was just me."

"Oh Hermione," Harry sighed, pulling her into a hug. "It wasn't your fault."

"They died never knowing they had a baby girl," she breathed thickly, tears falling freely now. "How can I not see this as my fault?"

He looked over to the small group and saw Thor looking over towards them, carrying Hermione's younger sister. She must have exhausted herself with her emotional upheaval, Harry reasoned. Glancing down to his best friend, he knew that she was not much better.

Harry ended up apparating them away to his house. Ginny would know how to take care of the girl that was still mourning her family she felt responsible for tearing apart. Once there and he had handed over the care of the woman he thought of as a sister to his wife, he'd be pouring himself a very stiff drink indeed.

TBC…

There it goes! Another oneshot off into the Internet. Thanks for taking the time to read my story. Your time is important. And it means a lot that you're reading my work. Hope your day is going well. And as always, stay awesome.