My Sister's Keeper
By: Mortania Hottersander
A/N: I think that because I've been doing Narcissa/Third Person narration, I think I'm going to take a break from the usual and write this chapter from Hermione's Point of View, including the last part of the last chapter with what I will consider the next chapter.
Disclaimer: I love playing with JK Rowling's characters and putting them in situations that they probably wouldn't be put in by the author herself. I like mixing things up and giving people a different personality than what the one is that we see.
CHAPTER 5: Discovery
"Is there a reason you've come here, Mrs. Malfoy?" I felt very agitated yet adjusted my tone to sound only slightly so. "I would expect your friend to have sent me the results in a letter rather than having you find me at my getaway spot."
In all honesty, this place had been my little hiding place since my mother-Karen Granger-and father had been working more. My sitter had taken me here once, where she brought a picnic lunch and we enjoyed it so much that we had come back almost every single day. It was the place where I had taken Michelle to tell her that I was going to be going to a Private Boarding School for gifted kids. It was also the place that I had gone after the hectic end of the years at Hogwarts. I vowed that when I was older I would build my house here. How dare that tall, absolutely beautiful but what I always thought was cruel blond find me here.
"Well, Hermione Granger, I would've obliged my friend if it were not for the circumstances." She spoke back to me, a smile forming on her face.
"What kind of circumstances are those might I inquire?" I now sat up with my arms behind her, to brace myself. Turning my face toward Narcissa, my eyes opened and curious.
"Hermione, might I sit beside you?" Narcissa asked, pointing to a spot on the blanket which I was laying on, I shrugged and rolled my eyes, I didn't really care if she sat down beside me or not. "Very well, I'll stand." Narcissa stood about three yards away from me at this point and I realized that she must have a reason to be so distant. "When I contacted my friend, he concocted a potion used for testing blood links-paternal and maternal. Luckily he has samples from everyone which need be tested-and when he tested yours-it came back with startling results." She reached in her pocket in a cloak that appeared as though it was rarely used but a few months a year and secured a piece of parchment in her hand. She held it out in front of her and then sighed before walking the three yards between us and handing the paper to me. "If this test is accurate, it is 99.7% of the time…"
I wasn't listening to the rest of her statement because I was looking at something I didn't want. Something I had wanted, yes, but not like it was being given to me.
Dear Ms. Granger,
Thank you for your sample you provided to the registry. We ran a sample of your DNA through our system and came out with one result as to who your mother is. We are pleased to inform you that you have the same DNA markers as:
BELLATRIX DRUELLA BLACK-LESTRANGE & RODOLPHUS MERRICK LESTRANGE
Congratulations on this wonderful discovery.
"No bloody way in hell." I whispered, "There's no way. I don't believe this." I paused for a moment. Wait, Narcissa was Bellatrix's sister. She had to have known. "Wait, you knew?" My honey colored eyes turned to meet her icy blue ones. "Did you know? How long ago did you know that this was true?" I asked her, getting up until I was standing.
"Hermione, she had suspicions when you, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley came to the manor during the war. She said it was just too coincidental that you had the exact same eyes as Rodolphus. Her journal revealed that she also couldn't help but notice you had Rodolphus' face shape, her brains, and somewhat her brilliant personality before she joined Voldemort." Narcissa had to spit the last name out as though it was poison. Most people had been working on saying his name in the weeks since the war, I had been saying it over the past year. "She also pointed it out rather specifically in a letter to me that the child she had on September 19, 1979 had the same birthday as you-and that's not just a coincidence. And standing here looking at you giving me that look, you remind me of our mother, Druella."
"I need to be alone. Leave." I held the paper close to me and stared out at the field, trying to sort her thoughts out without snapping. Narcissa did as I asked of her and honored my request to have space. How could this be true? I was the child of two Death Eaters, responsible for torturing my friend Neville's parents to insanity. I was the child of the woman who had held a knife to my throat only a few weeks ago.
"You know where to find me." Narcissa said quietly before walking away from me and apparating back to wherever it was she was going. What was I going to tell Ron? How was I going to explain this to Ginny or to Harry? Harry would most likely freak out the most, seeing as how my biological mother killed Sirius. Bloody hell, I was the daughter of a raving mad lunatic. I needed someone to talk to. Merlin, I wish Remus Lupin hadn't have been killed…by my mother. Why did this have to be my mother? Why couldn't I be a long lost separated twin sister of Neville or something? That would be easier to accept.
I began pacing now. What was I going to say to Ron? 'Hi honey, guess what? My mother was Bellatrix Lestrange I'm the daughter of a raving mad murdering lunatic! Still want to marry me?' No….that wouldn't go over well. It didn't even sound like it would go over well in my hypothetical situation in my brain.
I screamed. It felt better…but I needed to tell someone about this. Someone that would understand without judging what I was about to tell them. I needed someone older, wiser, better at dealing with things like this that had experience with comforting someone when they were distraught. Then, I made up my mind.
Hogwarts was quite blown apart after the war and had been under construction in the past three weeks. They wanted to be sure to get it up and going before we all started school again in the fall. When I arrived just outside the gates, there were people everywhere trying to repair the building. I could only hope that someone actually managed to get it fully repaired-it had been such a beautiful castle all the years I was there. As I walked up the long winding path, no one really spoke to each other, they just went about repairing the school both magically and non-magically. I found my way to the statue which lead to the Headmaster's office, and it was already open to my surprise. So, I walked up the stairs and there, behind the desk was Minerva McGonagall.
"Hermione! How can I help you?" She smiled warmly at me and gestured to the seat in front of the desk. "Please, have a seat."
I use to go to Professor McGonagall for advice all the time while I was in school. I always found a chat with her absolutely refreshing, I pulled out the letter which Narcissa Malfoy had given me and placed it on the desk in front of the Professor. Minerva picked up her half moon spectacles and read the document, and then looked up at me and placed the paper back upon the desk. "Are you returning to school this next year, Hermione?"
"Yes." I answered still very much confused. Why was Minerva not acting all that surprised? "Why?"
"I just wanted to know whether the head girl position should go to you or Miss Weasley." Hermione looked at her former professor incredulously. What was she playing at?
"Ginny should have it, it's her class after-all. Professor, aren't you shocked at what I just showed you?" Now I was just getting absolutely agitated. Minerva stood and walked over to the shelf where she pulled an old book from the shelf and placed it down on the desk. "I don't understand." I mumbled. Minerva opened the book and turned to a page in the middle of the book, and held it out to me.
Hermione Jean Granger
London, England
b. 9.17.1979
Lineage: Pureblood
Raised by Karen and Frank Granger, Hermione was adopted at birth when her real mother, Bellatrix Lestrange hid her pregnancy from her spouse and delivered the child in a hotel with a suicidal Karen Meadows. Bellatrix Lestrange named her Hermione but left it for Karen to name her the rest of the way. Does not know anything of the adoption or biological mother/father-Witch raised as Muggle born. Sort date: September 1, 1990
I couldn't believe what I had just read. What was this book? "You knew?" I asked. "What is this book?"
"That book, Hermione, is a record of all the students which are to be coming into the school during a ten year period. It gives the Headmaster or Headmistress and Deputy Headmistress or Deputy Headmaster information because it is used to not only address the acceptance letters but also personally deliver them if the individual is raised as a Muggle or is indeed Muggle born. Think about it, Hermione. Why would Dumbledore himself come to give you your letter while, as you've see, kids raised in the Magical world just get a letter and no explanation or counseling for their parents?"
I thought about it for a moment, it did make sense. "Oh." I felt absolutely ridiculous now. How did they do it? How did they keep it quiet all those years? "I'm a Gryffindor though."
"You, Hermione, though you are the daughter of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange are who you've always been. You just found out that your blood is a little purer than you thought. You were raised by Karen and Frank Granger, Hermione. You became the person you were meant to be. So, why are you allowing this to get to you? And don't try to lie to me and tell me that it's not bothering you-because it is."
"I guess, I just feel like Harry is going to hate me for who my mother was. I'm afraid Ron won't want to marry me because of my mother and father. I'm afraid that Neville won't be friends with me because of what they did to his parents." I looked at my hands, the manicure that I had done the other day really was gorgeous in color.
"Quit being ridiculous, just because you found out that your mother and father were murderers does not mean you are anything like them. You will never be anything like them. You might look like them, but you won't ever become a raving lunatic." Minerva finished and walked around the desk, limping still. "Hermione, you're a bright witch, don't let it get to you, now, I believe that you have friends to go talk to. They'll understand, Hermione, and if they don't…then they don't deserve your friendship."
As I walked to the apparition point I glared at the white tomb and then with a CRACK I appeared in front of the Burrow. This place was such a comfortable place for me to be.
"GINNY!" I heard Ron's voice from inside and before I knew it, I was being tackled to the ground by Ginny Weasley.
Though for some reason, I couldn't help but feel like this would be a relatively short visit at the Burrow for the first time in years.