Ater Sanguis

Warnings: Rated M for language, potential violence, and occasional sexual scenes; adult themes.

Disclaimer: I do not own the wonderful wizarding world of Harry Potter. If I did, I could actually afford uni. All characters are property of JK Rowling.

A/N: Thanks for all the warm wishes and prayers, readers. I am very sorry to say that my boyfriend's father ended up passing on October 3, 2015; these past few weeks have been very rough. Between figuring out what the family is going to do with his belongings, and the services, and my midterms, I haven't had time to do much with the story. I just wrote another chapter before I decided I posted this one. I hope you enjoy this chapter, as I think it will answer some people's questions. (Also I'm thinking of ditching the Latin chapter names after the next chapter; I may change the chapters that have already been published, but I don't want to do that, so if the chapters start to have English names, don't be surprised; I'm just lazy.) Enjoy!

(10/15 update: I have changed the chapters from Latin to English. All further chapters will have English titles.)

Discussions


17 July, 1996
Granger Residence

Helen Granger knew that her daughter took the announcement of Jeff not being her father too well. She had read quite a few parenting novels over the years, and they had all said that honesty and communication were key in a good mother-daughter relationship. Of course, those were key in any relationship, so Helen didn't know why she bothered spending the money on the books in the first place. It was nearly dinner time when her daughter returned home on the arm of Remus Lupin. Helen hear Hermione say goodbye to her former professor before hearing a pop, followed by the opening of the kitchen door.

"Mum? I'm home!" Hermione called out.

"I'm in the living room, dear!"

Helen put down the book she was reading when her daughter entered the room. "Come take a seat next to your old mum, dear," she smiled, patting the seat next to her. "Do you want to talk?"

"Well, I have a lot of questions, before I tell you what happened. Why didn't you ever tell me I was a squib? I was tormented for years because I was a muggle-born." Hermione's eyes shone with disbelief and betrayal, and a frown was on her lips.

"In my age, being a squib was just as bad as being a muggle. I'm sure you know that even now, being a squib isn't the best. What's that caretaker at the school, Finch? Flick?"

"Filch."

"Yes, him. He has been there for a while. He's a squib, is he not?" Helen waited for her daughter to nod. "And he is not treated well by the students?" Hermione nodded once more. "Now imagine how it was for me, daughter to one of the heads of a department at the Ministry. Had your grandfather not been raised by such a caring woman, I would've been an outcast, disgrace to the family. As it was, our family friends teased your grandpa for having a squib as his only child.

"I had truly believed that if you were born to be a witch, raising you as a muggle-born would be your best bet. Your biological father – Sirius… I had no idea who he was at the time, let alone if he was a wizard or not. To be completely honest with you, I was drunk and he was kind and invited me back to his apartment, and all my girlfriends said to go. So I did. It was a lovely night, resulting in an unexpected, but well-loved child."

Hermione sighed and looked at the carpet. She knew that her mother was right; squibs were treated just as poorly in the magical community as muggles; she would have been tormented just as much for being a squib's child. "But why didn't you tell me about Sirius sooner? I could've said that I wasn't a muggle-born!"

"I wasn't even sure if you were his daughter when I first saw him in the paper. I had mentioned it to your dad, but—"

"Hold on, Daddy knew that he wasn't my dad?" Hermione shrieked.

"Oh he knew from the very beginning, my child. My friend had said to lie and tell him you were his, but he saw through my façade almost immediately. I broke down crying and told him I completely expected him to leave me. But he was as sweet as the candy we both loathed to eat, and he told me he didn't care who the father was, he would raise you as if you were his. And he has, hasn't he?"

"Well, of course," Jeff said with a hearty laugh as he entered the living room. "She's my little poppet, isn't she?" He plopped down on the couch, having returned from a shift at their practice. He draped an arm over his daughter's shoulders and gave her a kiss on the side of her head. "Hermione, I couldn't care less about the fact that I didn't father you. I held your mum's hair back while she threw up, I rubbed her feet when they were sore from walking around the practice we worked at all day, and I was right next to her the minute you were born. I have watched you take your first steps, say your first words…hell, I even watched you perform your first spell before we even knew what was going on! I may not have fathered you, love, but I am your dad. And if you choose to let Sirius into your life as your father, then I have no qualms. I would be more than happy to share the title of father with your biological dad, so long as you're happy." Jeff looked down at his beautiful little girl and furrowed his brows. "Poppet, why are you crying?"

Hermione's cheeks were wet with tears, and her body shook as she cried. "Everything's just so different," she gasped between sobs. "I never wanted to be tormented for being a mudblood, and I find out that I'm not, but I might as well be! My father's a former convict, and my mother is a squib who lied to me. How can I tell the wizarding world that I'm not the little mudblood that they said I am?" She hissed out that dreadful word, knowing it would anger her mother. "And now I have to work with the boy who has been calling me that name for years? I have to protect him? Because his mother thinks that she can control him?"

"Hermione Jean, I will not allow you to use that word in this household!" Helen shouted. She may not be a magical being, but she knew all about that horrid word.

"Well, I don't think you can really tell me what to say, now can you? You have lied to me about my whole life; how can I believe anything you say anymore?!" Hermione threw her faux-father's arm off her and ran up the stairs in a huff, wailing.

"Do you think it's…that time of the month," Jeff questioned cautiously.

Helen scowled at her husband. "Jeffrey, you know that that is a ridiculous accusation. She's just emotionally distraught. It's been a rough couple of months, and we know that. And yesterday's news definitely didn't make it any easier for her. And if she has to take care of her bully… well that's enough to make anyone balk. Just give her some time alone; I'll try to speak with her later." She sighed and leaned back into the couch, running her hands over her face. Teenagers.

xxx

It was past dinner when Hermione finally left her room. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were puffy; if she had rubbed at them any more while she cried, she would've popped some blood vessels. She was certain that her parents had eaten without her, so when she entered the kitchen to see her mother standing over a pot and her dad chopping up veggies, she was shocked.

"Oh, darling, be a dear and grab some plates? Dinner's nearly ready," Helen suggested, not turning to look at her daughter.

"But, it's half past eight," Hermione murmured. "Why haven't you eaten yet?"

"Because you haven't, poppet," Jeff assured his daughter. "We're a family, no matter how dysfunctional. And just because you got mad, and we got flustered, doesn't mean we are going to let you starve. Now, if you grab plates we can all sit down and eat."

Hermione nodded, surprised that her parents hadn't really acknowledged her earlier outburst, and retrieved the plates from their cupboard. She set them on the table, along with the proper utensils. Once dinner was ready, the Granger family filled their plates and began to eat. It was quiet at first, until Hermione spoke up.

"Why aren't you mad at me?"

"Why would we be mad, Hermione? You had perfectly reasonable response to the stimuli in your environment. It's a lot to take in," Helen comforted her, a weathered hand on her young and soft one. "Is there anything else you want to talk about?"

"I… I don't know what to do about Sirius. I know he's my father, and Narcissa Malfoy said I should publicly announce that we're related, but I'd want to take a paternity test. And I suppose he's okay with that, but I just don't know, Mum." Hermione let out a loud sigh, pushing her pasta around. "I don't want everything to be different, and it already is. Ron got mad at me for keeping this from him, when I had just found out yesterday."

"Well that Ron has always had an odd way of going about things, love," Jeff chuckled. "Didn't you say that he had asked you out to that dance last year because he just realized you were a girl?"

Hermione giggled. "Yes, that's true. But I don't want people to treat me differently. I couldn't just accept him as my father, in this world; I'd have to take his last name, and show them that I truly care about my heritage. And I don't know if I could just be Hermione Black all of a sudden."

"Whatever you choose to do, we'll stand behind you, love," Helen smiled, patting her daughter's hand. "Promise. And no more secrets from now on, I can promise that too. Now eat your dinner, it's getting cold," she laughed.

Hermione smiled at her mother and stabbed at her pasta, putting a forkful in her mouth. She looked at the man she called Dad for so long, and crinkled her brows. "Can I still call you Dad, even though you aren't my biological father?"

"I already told you, poppet, I am perfectly fine with being your daddy alongside Sirius. If you'd like me to be Dad, or Papa, or just Jeff, I am more than happy to be any of those for you."

"Okay. I love you Dad."

"I love you, poppet."

"I love you Mum."

"And I you, my darling."

Hermione smiled to herself as she ate more of her dinner; perhaps this wouldn't be as bad as she thought.


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