Disclaimer: I do not own the works that brought about the Wizarding World. This is just my interpretation on the trope 'Pureblood Hermione'.
Finding Granger
Chapter 1
5 November 13:17pm
It was getting harder and harder for Hermione to contain her annoyance with her ever-evaporating patience. Seventeen minutes and counting since the bureaucrat left his post from behind the counter to find her files. It didn't help that Ron wouldn't shut up about the wait cutting into his lunch time.
"I hope they still have a corner piece of Shepherd's pie left for me. If not, do you think they would have any bangers and mash?" Ron asked as his stomach grumbled loudly again .
Hermione sighed heavily, ready to snap at him to shut up about food. The only reason he was here in the first place was because he insisted on tagging along, even when she was perfectly capable of handling the situation herself.
The door going into the Bureau of Assets and Taxation Services (B.A.T.S.) opened. Any hopes it was the balding, moustached man who was 'looking into her case' were dashed. Looking like epitome of overprivileged snobbery in tailored robes, walked Draco Malfoy. His platinum blond hair was carefully disarranged to look like he woke up like that.
On instinct from years of mutual hatred, both Ron and Malfoy drew their wands out to each other.
"Ron! Malfoy! Put your wands down at once." Hermione snapped. "We are in the Ministry of Magic so behave like respectable adults."
"Yes, Weasel." Malfoy drawled lazily. "You should listen to your girlfriend more often, it might make you deaf sooner than later."
"He's not my boyfriend. Whatever business you have in here, just get it done and stay clear."
Honestly could her lunch hour get any worse? Right on cue, the door to the newly formed department swung open and the bureaucrat bustled in, his arms full of purple files. Discoloured folders were dropped onto the counter, Julian – Hermione gathered from his name tag – licked his thumb before flipping through reams of yellowed parchment.
"It seems Miss Granger that no error has been made. According to the documentation, you are related to two Pureblood families on record. Therefore you qualify for the Pureblood Reparations Act."
Hermione stared in disbelief. The far too serious Julian must be pulling her leg. It couldn't be true.
"But Hermione's a war hero, doesn't she also qualify for the exception clause?" Ron asked, as if not too bothered by the world-shattering revelation.
"Yes, she would need to fill out B.A.T.S. form E, section 3.7 and 9.4. which could take a few weeks to process and reimburse her for any taxes she has paid already." Explained Julian dryly as he slowly pulled out a green form for them.
"This is absolute bullshit." Shouted Malfoy, bringing her out of her shock.
"Malfoy, just back off and mind your own business!" Hermione drew out her wand, ready to expel the blond ferret from the room. Of all the people in the world, he was the last person she wanted to witness this fiasco.
"We do not tolerate any verbal or physical harassment to staff or other visitors in this department. Otherwise you will be prosecuted by the Wizengamot." Julian recited from the large pink and yellow poster beside his head.
Ron and Hermione glared back at Malfoy as their wands were tucked away.
"Julian, surely there's some mistake in the paperwork." Hermione stopped short, as the bald man glared at her with indignation. "Suppose there is one, hypothetically, what evidence do you need to see to prove it?" Surely there's some way to tell this weary man that she is exactly who she is.
"There are no errors in this. It is foolproof." He slammed her files close and placed the green form between them. "You can return this form at a later time and we will take your application from there."
"Seriously Hermione, it's not a big deal. At least you're not going to pay this stupid tax, just like me and Harry."
"I guess you would have to whore out your sister in order to afford it." Butted in Malfoy.
Julian coughed loudly and rapped his finger against the garish pink and yellow poster on harassment. Ron had turned into a beetroot red before storming out of the office, the door slammed loudly after him.
Malfoy sneered at Hermione, filling her with utter loathing at the blond git.
"I'd paid good money for you to prove you're not Pureblood after all." He said to her.
Hermione could hear Julian rapping his fingers against the anti-harassment poster on the wall. Snatching up the green forms, she stormed out of the office. Unlike Ron, she wasn't going to head for the canteen.
5 November 17:04pm
"It's the principle of it, Kingsley! That's why I'm angry."
Pacing back and forth in Kingsley Shacklebolt's office, Hermione had raised a complaint against Julian's behaviour. Which had led her being called to the Minister's office that evening. For such a dry person, the bureaucrat was well connected.
"The Pureblood Reparations Act was voted in overwhelmingly by the Wizengamot. There's not much I could do to change the law." Kingsley sighed as he watched the brunette rant. "My hands are tied but I could speak to your manager to give you an extended leave, so you can do some research on your heritage."
"This is ridiculous! I know who I am. I am a Mud-"
"Muggle-born. Don't say that other word." Warned Kingsley.
"No, I'm a Mudblood and proud." Throwing her arms in the air, she let out a large sigh of exasperation. "I don't know what to do."
"Perhaps you should research into your heritage, do you even know which Pureblood families they said you're related to?"
"No."
"See if you can get into the registry and find out."
6 November 08:30am
"Draco Malfoy." A woman shrieked his name and when Draco turned around, he was displeased to see the recognisable nest of brown curls of Hermione Granger. Other people on the busy street of Diagon Alley glanced oddly at the commotion. She stormed up to him with a frown that was similar to the day a few years ago when she slapped him in the face.
"What do you want?" His hand gripped his wand tightly in his pocket, in case she really did want to mark his face again.
"You said you will pay good money to prove I'm not a Pureblood." Her finger poked him sharply in the chest. Draco noticed how petite she was and it was easy to look down his nose at her, putting on his best impression of not being as terrified of her as he was.
"So what if I did, Granger?"
Whatever he was expecting, insults, vitriol or even a hex, Draco didn't expect what she was going to say next.
"You need to help me prove I'm not a Pureblood."
The blond was taken aback. Did she really mean what she had just said? Never in his life had he thought that anyone would want to not be a Pureblood.
"Come again, Granger?"
"I said I need your help, and therefore the money you said you would pay, to help me prove that I am a Muggleborn and not Pureblood like you."
"No thank you." He began to walk away when she tugged at his sleeve sharply.
"Why not? Isn't the very idea of me being a Pureblood against your beliefs?"
"I have spent my childhood under Potter's and your shadows. I want nothing to do with you all."
"What if we struck a deal? Like getting you through the Exceptions Clause?"
"I'm listening Granger. What would you do to help me and my family out of the Pureblood Reparations Act?"
"I could help you file the paperwork and provide the necessary evidence. If you help me."
"I'll send you an owl with my decision."
Turning away from the bushy-haired witch, Draco left with a great deal of information to process.
11 November 07:05am
The rest of Hermione's day since speaking to Malfoy had been an anxious one. By the time she went to bed, she had left her bedroom window partially open in case Malfoy's owl arrived while she was asleep. However when she woke with the sun in her eyes, no owl or letter was nowhere to be seen.
By the fourth day, just as she was about to have a nervous breakdown while making her first cup of tea, an eagle owl tapped loudly at her kitchen window. Hermione practically sprinted for the latch and threw open the window. The owl glared at her with its yellow eyes and dropped the letter in her hands before flying away immediately.
Tearing open the letter, she read its contents, written in perfect script as she poured her tea.
I'll do it. Only if you have a plan. Hogshead, tonight at 7.
Hermione folded the letter neatly before throwing it away. She had a lot of work to do before her evening with Malfoy.
11 November 06:59pm
Draco was nursing a Firewhisky when Granger walked into Hogshead. He chose the pub for the lack of patrons, except for the watchful eye of the proprietor.
Hermione Granger in her twenties was slightly different from the schoolgirl Granger he knew. She seemed more collected and had a more professional look about her. Taming her bushy hair into a ponytail and wearing tailored robes over neat skirts and blouses certainly helped. There wasn't anything particularly flattering to her appearance, Draco most certainly thought she was still rather prim. However, she walked around with an air of humility as opposed to the way she used to jut her chin up like she knew more than anybody else. It used to drive him crazy. Who did this up-shot Mudblood think she was? She'd read the books about magic, but she didn't spend her whole life around it like Draco did.
It was even more frustrating when, as the years went by at Hogwarts, she had bested him in every subject, except flying. It didn't make sense why she was so damn brilliant. Hermione Granger was an anomaly to the belief he was brought up with. An unexplainable phenomenon. However, recent revelation to her Pureblood heritage half explained why she was so brilliant.
The past few days, he had thought of many different theories as to why she was brought up as a Muggle. None of which made sense and were absurd. Driven mad by this puzzle, he decided to take up on her offer.
"Sorry to keep you waiting." Hermione mumbled as she dumped, what Draco thought, was a hideous oversized yellow bag on the chair between them.
She shouted her order at the proprietor who's scowl did not diminish as he poured a butterbeer for her. They sat in silence as Hermione pulled out scrolls, an inkpot, and quill while they waited for her drink to arrive. Draco was not in the mood for small talk at this point.
"Let's get to the point and you can show me your plan." Draco said before draining the rest of his glass.
The witch next to him unravelled a three foot long roll of parchment and started to recite from it.
"I've come up with a method which can systematically track my ancestry starting with my parents. We need to go see them."
"Granger, there's no 'we' in this." He was willing to offer assistance, not to be completely involved in her plan.
"If you want to help, then you are coming along. We need to use your funds to pay for transportation, lodging, etc, so you should see what it's being spent. For transparency."
"Fine." He replied reluctantly. He knew Granger wouldn't run off with his money, but it would be good to know she would not be whittling away his money on champagne and caviar.
"What can we get from your parents?"
Granger read from her notes. "We will take bodily samples, such as a strand of hair and we test whether they're my real parents or not."
"That would test my theory whether you're adopted or not." It did sound rather reasonable.
"So once we have established whether they're my parents or not, we need to also gain access to the files B.A.T.S. have which would tell me which family I'm supposedly related to."
"Shouldn't be too hard."
"I've tried already and apparently the files are highly confidential. No other person can see the files, except for workers in the B.A.T.S. and even when they do – there are security measures such as they have to be in the presence of the person stated in the file and only for the allotted appointment time slot. Then they have their memories of what they have seen every week obliviated for confidentiality."
"Can we bribe someone in B.A.T.S.?"
"Does Julian look like someone who can be bribed?"
Thinking of the terrifyingly dull man who could put Professor Binns to sleep, it didn't strike Draco that this was a wizard who would succumb to a heavy pile of galleons.
"Suppose not. Do you have any alternative ideas?"
"Not sure yet, but we will figure it out along the way."
"That's your entire plan?" He said derivatively.
"You only gave me today to figure this out."
"Ok, so what do you need to set this plan in place and when do we go?"
18 November 07:14am
Draco arrived punctually at the address Hermione gave him. The neat rows of whitewashed townhouses with perfectly painted black doors were empty. The houses looked small in Draco's opinion, but he supposed Granger wouldn't be able to afford anything more than these.
Ringing the doorbell to the seventh house, he waited for the chime to play it's simple jingle before the thudding of footsteps could be heard and the door opened.
"Malfoy you're early. Come in and wait in the living room."
Draco's eyes widened as Granger greeted him with a pink towel wrapped around her head and a larger towel was wrapped around her wet form.
"You said seven fifteen."
"No, I said seven fifty." While he let himself and his trunk into her house, Granger was already sprinting back up the stairs. Which only made him notice that the towel was far shorter than he had originally thought, when he realized he could see the back of her shapely bare thighs.
Moving himself into the room closest to him, Draco looked around to study Granger's home. All the furniture looked lived in, yet everything was rather neat and well kept. A large ginger cat was curled up on the armchair, it's flat face eyed him suspiciously. There were pictures of her with two adults, the man had a warm presence and the older woman shared the witch's dark brown hair colour. These must be the Grangers, Draco thought. While it was odd to him that the photographs did not move, what struck him even more peculiar was how brightly everyone in these photos smiled back at him.
Never in Draco's life had he had a family portrait photo where either his parents or he smiled. Nor did he ever have photos taken with his parents wrapping their arms around him in a happy embrace. Or jumping with happiness at the beach. This was the first time that he could remember a family publicly showing how happy they were together.
"Ready Malfoy." Whipping around, Draco found Granger fully dressed and her hair completely dry. She had a much smaller suitcase next to her, except wheels were attached to it at the bottom. He held out his arm.
"Let's get moving then."
Linking arms with him, Hermione Apparated them out of her home.
18 November 08:05am
The bright light and noise almost overwhelmed Draco as Hermione guided them through the airport. All the Muggles he saw seemed to be in a rush and he thanked his Quidditch reflexes for being able to dodge a few people pushing their trolleys almost into him. They finally arrived in a line that Granger called 'check-in'. It was a long switchback of people all waiting to get to the desks in front.
"Why aren't we going to that empty counters over there?" He asked impatiently.
"Those counters are for first class passengers." Granger had already pulled out their documents for travel, as she explained the differences of first class and economy.
"Then let's go." It made perfect sense to go if that meant skipping this line.
"Malfoy,we didn't buy first class tickets. They were quite expensive."
They shuffled along after the family who eventually managed to convince their hyperactive child to stop kicking the bollard to move down. If that child was going to be sitting anywhere near Draco, he might hex the little menace.
"It's my money Granger. I want to spend good money for comfort." Ducking under the line tape, he strode over to the vacant counter with the rolled out red carpet. Leaving Granger to follow.
The woman at the counter smiled at him in greeting.
"Good afternoon Sir. Are you travelling first class with us today?"
"Yes, I would like to get two first class tickets to Sydney." He commanded.
The clerk looked at him with a restrained look.
"Do you already have tickets for your flight Sir?"
"Yes, but I want to pay more for first class." Why didn't she seem to understand Draco's request?
"Sorry, I have the tickets for economy. We would like to pay for first class upgrade."
Granger stepped beside him and slapped their documents on the counter.
"Oh I see. Can I see your passports and itinerary, please." The woman took the documents and within a few minutes they were escorted (without their suitcases) to the plane. Draco barely paid attention to the additional price of the upgrade, but he thought Granger looked rather appalled as she handed over a black card to pay for it. He didn't understand because it was his money that was paying for everything, as agreed. If he had to endure the know-it-all's presence, he may as well do it in as much comfort as possible.
18 November 09:45am
"Is this all the space we get?"
Hermione barely contained her eye roll as she watched Malfoy observe his palatial seat at the front of the plane. Their allocated seats were facing each other side by side.
"These are the very best seats Malfoy. Wait until you get a peek at what economy would have been like." Awkwardly she accepted a glass of champagne from the cabin crew who passed by, gulping it down enthusiastically. If she had to spend a whole journey to Australia with Malfoy, she needed alcohol.
Eventually Malfoy sat in his seat and Hermione watched him stare at the safety video with great interest whilst muttering words like 'barbaric' and 'unhelpful from actual death'. The engines roared into power and in no time they were up in the air. Hermione couldn't help but notice how his knuckles were slightly white from gripping his armrest, which made her feel ever slightly better about bringing him along on his first-ever Muggle flight.
Her heart pounded with nerves, not from flying itself, but the thought of seeing her parents again. She didn't know how she would feel when she lay eyes on them. It had never occurred to her that she would ever be able to bring their memories of her – them as a family, back.
"Granger, what do we do here for entertainment?" Malfoy's question snapped her out of her darkening thoughts.
"You can wear those headphones and watch a film. They're like moving pictures that we're used to seeing but they can also talk."
Showing Malfoy how to set up his headphones and how to select a film, she watched as he picked one. Typical boy, he chose a movie about racing cars. She left him to his own devices while she drew up the screen between them and pulled out a book for some light reading.
It was much later when Hermione heard a sniffle. Instincts told her to cure that person with some pepper-up potion and shun germs. Someone sniffed again and gave a long sigh and she realized it was coming from the other side of the screen. Standing up slowly so that her head could peer over the seats and screens, she saw Malfoy was staring at his small screen intently with watery eyes.
It took the witch by surprise to see her childhood tormentor crying, he looked vulnerable. Perhaps it was possible for a man with a cold heart to have empathy. Her hair fell out of her loose bun and cascaded down the screen, which startled Draco with her presence.
"What are you doing Granger?" He said, whilst hastily rubbing tears away and shoving the headphones off of him.
"I just wanted to ask if you wanted any water." Ever quick with an excuse.
"If I wanted anything, I would ask one of the hostesses myself." Clearing his throat, he was busy arranging the blankets he had around him.
"Oh yes. I'm not used to being in first class where they get things for us. But what's the movie about?" Not wishing to embarrass the wizard any further, she still thought it would be nice to have some conversation.
"Nothing too exciting. Just cars, hot women, and family. I'm very tired Granger, could you let me try to get some sleep?" Malfoy had been avoiding his gaze from her since he noticed her staring. Hermione was dismissed.
"Sure. Good night Malfoy." Sitting back down in her seat, she picked up her book again.
"Granger." His voice asked softly from the other side.
"Yes, Malfoy?"
"Do you know how to make this seat into a bed?" He asked hesitantly.
"I'll come over Malfoy."
Hermione got out of her seat a little too enthusiastically. The quicker Malfoy went to sleep, the sooner she didn't have to interact with him.
20 November 09:26pm
Over thirty hours after Draco had first set foot in an airport, he was already fed up with them. He was fed up with air-o-plains, the tasteless cardboard food, the barbaric security checks. No more. He would rather watch the resurrection of Voldemort. Almost. Taking in a deep breath of fresh, humid air, he was relieved to be outside of Sydney airport. All he needed to do was convince Granger to pay a visit to the Magical Parliament of Australia and order their series of portkeys home. If she disagreed, he will leave without her.
Thinking of Cantankerus Nott's book of the Sacred Twenty Eight, he couldn't for the life of him think which family Granger's supposed to be related to. Before the flight landed, he questioned her about her parents and grandparents. It seemed like any questions he could ask to get to know them better, he did. In return, Granger gave him what he wanted to know and more by the cauldron-load. He got the impression that the Grangers were very close and her grandmother was an eccentric. They continued discussing the minute details of her family in the taxi all the way to the hotel.
"Did you ever meet your paternal grandparents?"
"Not at all. My grandmother died in childbirth to my father and my grandfather supposedly abandoned his son from birth."
Draco couldn't help but notice the bitterness the witch spoke with at the mention of her grandfather.
"But Nana says she knew my grandmother when they were younger. She used to tell me all these stories about being young, working for the government during the Second World War and how they used to go dancing with all these handsome men."
Hermione took the lead by paying the taxi driver and checking in with the hotel reception. Draco assisted with carrying the suitcases into the strangely stark lobby of the hotel.
Once they got the keys from the cheery receptionist (Australians seem overly cheerful, most disconcerting for a Brit like him); they went into the room assigned to them. Draco was most put out by the drab room of orange and beige where two single beds were positioned side by side.
"You may have been comfortable sharing beds and romping with both Potty and Weasel but that's not going to happen here," Draco said with displeasure.
"If you insinuate one more time that my relationship with my best friends was anything but platonic. I will cut you into tiny pieces."
Taking her bag, Hermione stormed into the bathroom to wash and change. How dare he insinuate such disgusting things! She was tired and cranky. His words were the very last straw to a very long journey.
She was ready to feel clean and sleep well after taking a dose of sleeping draught.
Thank you very much for reading this. Big thanks goes to my beta Tridogmom.
Reviews are welcomed. :-)