Hermione felt an ache in her chest as she walked down the corridors of the Ministry with her father. This would be the last time she visited for months, and though she was certain her father would be happy to resume their weekly visit during the Holidays, she could not help but feel as if something were ending.
She snuck a sideways look at him, and smiled when she realized he was doing the same.
"I don't know what I'm going to do with my Wednesdays once you've left," he said, offering a small smile that did not quite chase the sadness from his eyes.
"I'm not going away forever," she reminded him, "I'll be back for Christmas, and Easter, and then next summer we can spend the first week at the Ministry to make up for lost time."
"It's a deal," he sighed dramatically, "I suppose I'll just have to wait until then to come back. Pity, I think I was just beginning to talk some sense into Cornelius."
"Nonesense, Papa. You're a wizard, not a miracle granter."
He laughed at that. It was a loud, booming sound that drew the attention of several administrators who looked around curiously, and smiled at the familiar pair.
"But seriously Papa," she said a few minutes later, "You have to keep me updated about everything that happens. I don't want to be surprised when I come back."
"Of course I will, Mione," he promised. He wrapped an arm around her and tugged her into his side. "I'll write you every day. Twice a day on Wednesdays if you like."
"Ok." She felt a strange lump in her throat, and suddenly wished that Turnip was allowed to come to the Ministry with them.
He tugged a tendril of her hair gently, "You're going to love Hogwarts, sweetheart. When December comes you'll be disappointed to leave."
Shaking her head stubbornly, she whispered out "No I won't."
There was no response, but he hugged her a little tighter to his side.
"Well," he said a few moments later as they came to the stairway, "I need to check on some paperwork. I suppose you'll want to visit him?"
She rolled her eyes, "You can say his name, Papa. It's not going to kill you."
"It just might," he retorted, but he smiled anyway. "You go on. I'll be along in a bit."
Although he had trusted her to make her way through the Ministry on her own for several years, she always felt a sense of pride as she did so. With her head held high she navigated her way down the stairs and through the corridors. Each person she came across was greeted politely, as Narcissa had instructed her, and she smiled as each congratulated her on her acceptance to Hogwarts.
Finally, she came to the office that she was looking for.
"Hermione! Come in, come in, I just received something I think you'll enjoy. I think it works with eclecticity, but I can't be sure."
Arthur Weasley's office was the only place besides the Manor that Hermione felt safe to be herself. She broke into a broad grin and practically ran over to his desk. There was a strange, pear shaped glass bulb with metal strings inside. "Can I touch it?" she asked, peering at the object.
"Of course, it won't hurt you." He laughed, and waved his wand to move a stack of papers off of a second chair.
"It's cold!" she said, taking her seat. She settled back in her chair, the object clutched in her hand. The familiar smell of dust and burnt toast filled her nose. The walls were covered in charts, graphs, and drawings of various Muggle appliances.
Arthur nodded, "And fragile, so be careful not to drop it. I broke one this morning."
"How does it work?"
"Well, I believe that-"
He launched into an explanation of 'eclecticity' that any Muggle could have immediately informed him was incorrect. Fortunately, there was no one who knew any better, so the girl listened in full captivation. Then, when he finished explaining the significance of spinning wool into steel (another incorrect hypothesis) he changed the conversation.
"So, are you ready for Hogwarts?"
She could not help but feel slightly disappointed that he would ask the only question anyone else had asked for the last year. "Yes," she sounded far more confident than she felt. She did not add that her answer had not changed since last week, not the week before.
"And have you given any thought to which House you'll be in?"
She spoke without thought, "Slytherin!"
Arthur cleared his throat, and if she hadn't known any better she would have sworn that he winced a little. "Are you- are you sure that you want to be in Slytherin?"
"Oh yes," she said, not noticing his tone, "Everyone in my family in in Slytherin, and it's the best House! Did you know that it's in the dungeons? And there are windows that show the Black Lake- you can see the giant Squid sometimes! And Merlin was in Slytherin!"
"Yes," Arthur gently interrupted the girl, "but have you given any consideration to the other Houses?"
A frown settled over her features. "Why would I do that?"
"Well it's not really fair to disregard them entirely. Each House has it's merits. I myself was in Gryffindor-"
Hermione's nose wrinkled in distaste.
"None of that now," chided Arthur gently, "Gryffindor was a great house. You'll never have any closer friends. Unless you're in Hufflepuff, of course. And Ravenclaw puts loads of emphasis on learning. I know you love to read-"
"But I don't want to be a reader when I grow up," she groaned, "I want to be the Minister!"
"You can be the Minister without being sorted into Slytherin."
She took a deep breath, and then spoke in an air that suggested she was explaining something very simple to a small child. "I'm a Malfoy, Arthur. Slytherin is in my bones. I'm cunning, ambitious, resourceful, clever, proud, and I have a thirst for power."
"Really, a thirst?"
"Arthur," she whined slightly, "You know what I mean. I'm going to be the most powerful witch in the entire world!"
This time his wince was unmistakable.
She narrowed her eyes and set the object back on his desk before folding her arms across her chest. "You don't think I can do it?"
"No, no, I didn't say that," Arthur placated. He ran his hand through his thinning hair, "It's just that you… Good people can be twisted under the right circumstances, and every person who has gone into Slytherin-"
"I hope you aren't filling my daughter's head with lies, Weasley."
The cold voice of her father made Hermione start. She looked around, and immediately noticed the furious expression on his face.
"Everything I've said is the truth," Arthur shot back, flushing a dark red. He was gripping a piece of parchment so tightly that it was now crumpled beyond repair.
Her father chuckled mirthlessly, "I know you believe that the brief meetings you have had with my daughter have given you a sufficient knowledge of her character, but I assure you that you are incorrect. Hermione will shine in any House she belongs to- and, as her father, I know that her character would not be twisted by anything."
Arthur glowered at him, "I suppose that's true, given that she's spent her entire life living with you."
An uncomfortable weight settled on Hermione's chest. The only sound in the room was Arthur's heavy breathing. Slowly, she settled her hands on the arms of her chair, and stood.
"Papa is the greatest father I could ever ask for," she lifted her chin, hoping that the shakiness of her voice wasn't noticeable.
"That doesn't mean he's a good man," said the redhead.
Hermione expected her father to protest then, to shout, or even shoot a hex at Arthur. But when she looked at him he just stood there, his eyes staring at nothing.
"Papa," she walked over to him and gingerly reached for his hand.
As soon as their hands touched, Lucius gave a start. "It's fine, sweetheart. I wouldn't expect a man who can't feed his family properly to know what a good father looks like." The words lacked their usual bite.
Hermione decided not to point out that Arthur had said "man", not "father". Instead, she tightened her hold on him. Together, they walked from the cluttered office.
"I'm sorry Papa," she whispered past the lump in her throat as they entered the Atrium.
He looked down at her in surprise, "Why are you sorry sweetheart?"
She sighed, and looked away. "I knew that Arthur didn't like you, but I kept going back to talk to him anyway. I'm sorry." She felt as if no one in the entire world had ever felt as small as she did in that moment.
She heard her father sigh, and pull her over to one of the Floo fireplaces. He called out "Malfoy Manor!" and pulled her into the green flames.
Seconds later, she trudged glumly into the familiar surroundings of her father's study.
"Alright, now we can talk without risk of being overheard," sighed her father as he slung his cloak over a chair. "You know that while I do not… approve of Weasley, he is the only one in the Ministry who is dense enough to answer your questions about the Muggle world without wondering about your motives."
"But he doesn't like you," she said, her eyes locking on the Malfoy family tree tapestry that hung behind his desk. The name "Hermione Narcissa Malfoy" curled elegantly next to Draco's in her father's handwriting. The lump in her throat grew, and she struggled to hold back her tears.
"Sweetheart, you're going to find that many people will treat us differently because we're Malfoys. Sometimes they treat you better, sometimes worse. It's not always fair, but sometimes… sometimes it's deserved. In the case of Arthur Weasley- well, let's just say I deserve his contempt."
She looked up in shock, and her eyes widened at the expression on her father's face. "Papa?"
He tried to smile, "I'm not proud of my past, Hermione. But you should know, before you go to school, that you're going to hear things- and some of them will be true. I'm- I haven't been a very nice person, sweetheart."
She had never seen her father look so… unsure. His fingers tapped restlessly on top of the desk. He looked almost afraid of her response.
Without a second thought, she crossed the room and threw her arms around him. "I think you're nice, Papa. I think you're the best person in the entire world, and I love you."
His arms closed tightly around her, "I love you too."
"I wish you would have let me throw a proper party," lamented Narcissa several days later as she and Hermione waited in the drawing room with Draco.
"Mione hates parties," chirped Draco as he admired his reflection in the darkened window, "She'd probably spend all of her time hiding under the table with a book-"
"That was one time!" interrupted Hermione.
Draco laughed under the heat of her glare, "Only because Father caught you last year."
"We could have invited Lottie," suggested their mother, "Or Theodore, or even the Changs. I hear their daughter was sorted into Ravenclaw-"
Hermione smiled, "It's fine, Mother. Dinner is much better."
"But perhaps a few friends your own age-"
"Cissa, I thought we agreed to let Hermione have the celebration she wanted."
Hermione had never felt more grateful for her father than at that moment. He strode into the room, leading Severus Snape behind him.
"Uncle Sev!" she squealed, running to throw her arms around the tall, thin man.
Severus grunted at the force of her impact, and gave a few awkward pats to her back. "Lucius, I thought you said that you would talk to her about the hugging."
"Sorry, Sev. I guess I forgot," he shrugged.
There were only two people in the world that her parents trusted with the knowledge of Hermione's "unexplainables." Or at least, that's what Hermione called them. They were the strange, often frightening feelings that came and went without warning. The reason that Uncle Albus had given her Thimble and worked so hard to teach her Occlumency; and the reason that Severus was often called to the manor in the middle of the night to administer calmings draughts and make sure that there was no physical harm done.
While she loved Albus, there was something familiar about Severus that made her feel safe. Like he was an overly large teddy bear who pretended to be grumpy all of the time.
"Thank you for coming to my early birthday party, Uncle Sev!"
"You are very welcome," he said, gently extracting himself from her embrace.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice," Narcissa added, "we wanted to do something special because Hermione's real birthday will be happening while she's at school."
"It was no trouble at all."
Dumbledore arrived a few minutes later, his pockets stuffed with Muggle sweets, and his arms locked around a large, lumpy parcel wrapped in bright yellow paper.
"Draco, we're about to eat dinner," warned Narcissa as the boy instinctively headed towards Dumbledore.
Dumbledore chuckled, "There will be plenty left after dinner, young man. Plenty."
At Narcissa's insistence, Dumbledore's gift was left on the table with the gifts from Hermione's parents. As the rest of them headed towards the dining room Hermione spotted Severus pulling a tiny item from his pocket, enlarging it, and placing it next to the other gifts. She hid her smile and followed the others to the table.
"Uncle Severus, what's the Slytherin password?" She asked, sliding into the chair next to his once he'd sat down.
He quirked an eyebrow, "You know I can only tell you that if you are sorted into Slytherin."
She dismissed that statement immediately, "I will be. I want to make sure that I can go back to the dormitory without a prefect if Turnip is too overwhelmed at the feast."
The animal in question was currently salivating over Severus' lap, and had never been overwhelmed by any crowd, but Hermione refused to buckle under the potion master's gaze.
"I do not know," said Severus carefully. "The password will be set on the morning of the sorting."
Hermione's shoulders slumped as the plates and platters before them filled with food.
"You shouldn't be so set on Slytherin, Hermione," said Dumbledore good naturedly as he piled his plate high with roast potatoes. "The other houses might feel jealous."
"Well, they should!" Proclaimed Hermione as she selected a piece of rosemary chicken, "None of them are half as good as Slytherin."
Lucius snickered into his glass of pumpkin juice, ignoring the dirty looks that Narcissa shot him.
"What if we get sorted into Hufflepuff?" Asked Draco, his eyes widening as if the idea had just occurred to him.
Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply, but Severus was faster-
"Then you will be very lucky. Hufflepuffs are loyal, kind, hardworking- it would be as if you were gaining a family instead of a House. And, Professor Sprout tries to do something special for her student's at least once a week."
Hermione, Lucius, and Narcissa remained unimpressed by this statement, but a thoughtful look had replaced Draco's horror.
"Well said, Severus. Of course, the same could be said for any of Hogwarts' Houses, I'm sure."
"Indeed. Well, Lucius tells me that the four of you recently visited Australia on Holiday-"
The children immediately launched into a vivid description of each of the eleven days they spent there. The conversation took them all the way through dessert.
The night was very nearly perfect. The gifts were opened, Dumbledore regaled them all with a story about his own sorting- and then it happened.
Turnip, whose fur had been a rosy gold all evening, changed color in an instant. It was as if someone dipped the wubble in ink.
Hermione felt the icy cold envelop her body, and her breathing began to accelerate. She felt as if she was beginning to drift away from the room. Fuzzy voices drifted lazily to her ears.
"Lucius! Turnip's fur!"
"It must be the Dementors. Mardie!"
There was a pop, and Hermione was vaguely aware of someone lifting her up. The smell of her father's cologne calmed her somewhat.
"Bring some chocolate to Hermione's room. Severus-"
"I can Floo back to my quarters and collect some potions."
"Is Hermione going to be ok?"
"Yes, of course, Draco. Stay with Uncle Albus."
The next thing she knew she was being tucked into her bed.
"Turnip," her mother's voice called out, and Hermione felt the bed dip. Soft fur brushed against her neck as the dog snuggled against her, and she felt her breathing slow back to it's regular pace.
The voices became much clearer after that.
"I've brought the calming draught," Severus' voice said. "Open her mouth."
She allowed someone to gently prise open her mouth, and the cold potion was poured in. It was like being wrapped in a warm, cozy blanket. She hadn't realized that she had been shivering until she stopped.
Her mother's worried voice said, "It's never been that fast before. We've always had warning."
"The barrier must be breaking," sighed Severus.
Hermione's brow wrinkled, and she wondered What barrier?
"So soon?" now it was her father's voice.
"I'm not going to pretend to know much about it. Albus didn't elaborate. But Hermione is nearly twelve, and the excitement of going to school must be accelerating her magic somehow. Frankly, knowing how advanced she is, I'm surprised the barrier has lasted this long."
"Should we tell her about B-"
"I don't think it's necessary. She is very good about practicing her Occlumency. I myself have covertly tested her shields. And while she has… extreme emotions, I believe that Hermione is rational enough that her shields should remain intact."
"This shouldn't be happening to her," sighed her mother.
Severus let out a growl, "No, it shouldn't. But this is what happens when anyone becomes involved in one of Albus' schemes-"
"Mother! I brought Hermione's chocolate! Mardie couldn't find any, so Uncle Albus aparated to Honeyduke's. He's stocking the pantry right now."
Hermione opened her eyes in time to see Draco drop a small mountain of chocolate at the foot of her bed. Her brother's eyes were worried, but he smiled at her and thrust a chocolate frog at her. "Happy early birthday," he said in an overly cheerful voice.
Hermione ate the chocolate, and felt some of the strange depression subside.
"Can I have some, Mother?" Draco asked.
Narcissa smiled thinly, "Of course, darling. Of course you can. You two enjoy, and if Hermione feels better maybe we can finish the party."
The three adults went into the corridor, where they whispered urgently amongst themselves. Every once in a while they looked over at Hermione, and the girl pulled Turnip closer.
"Do you ever get the feeling they're hiding something from us?" whispered Draco.
"Yeah," Hermione's brow furrowed as she thought back to the conversation she'd heard. "I really do."
A/N: Ok! The next chapter will have the sorting! And the chapter after that will catch up with Bellatrix. After the next chapter we will be jumping through the first few books a bit. Remember that the major story arc starts in book 6 (really the end of book 5) so if there's anything from the first 5 books that you really want to see please let me know! If it works with the story I'll find a way to fit it in.
Also, a note about Draco- Remember that Narcissa and Lucius are raising him to survive Voldemort's return, not to be the next Lord Malfoy. That's going to play a large part when it comes to his Hogwarts years- he is definitely going to be OOC.
Ok, now to answer some questions:
Yes, Turnip will be going to Hogwarts. And to the reviewer who said they were picturing a corgi- that's what I was picturing too!
Hermione's the one who freed Dobby. She gave him some of her old clothes at the beginning of the summer.
Hermione's birthday is still the same. She's going to be in the same year as Draco, but he still views her as an older sister.
We will see Bellatrix's reaction to everything in the chapter after next.
Also, I can't really answer if this is going to be a good!Hermione or bad!Hermione fic without giving away too much. Let's just say that Hermione is going to be very grey, and Bellatrix is going to be a lot closer to book Bellatrix than she is to THAW Bellatrix. So Hermione is going to be struggling with that as well.
I think those are the main questions. If I missed anything please let me know! As always, thank you for reading, and thank you for following/favoriting/reviewing!
Please let me know what you think!