A/N: Beta love to Glittergrrrl05

Disclaimer: HP and the HP Universe are the sole property of JK Rowling and her assigns. I make no profit from this story.

Ch. 11

Tuesday Morning

Breakfast

Hermione took a deep breath and headed for her door. Harry and Neville would be waiting for her, she knew, but this was still going to be the first time she had to face down the entire school. They hadn't gone far before a familiar voice called out to them.

"Hermione, Neville! Wait for me!" Daphne gasped out as she ran down the corridor to catch them. They stopped and waited for the normally polished blonde who looked slightly disheveled with her robe unbuttoned and hair mussed. She hadn't even taken the time to fully pack her messenger bag, holding two textbooks in her arms. "I wanted to walk in with you, Hermione. It wouldn't hurt to have a girl by your side." She handed her books to Neville so she could open her bag and properly pack them, flashing a smile at him as he cooperated without complaint. "Thanks, Neville."

As the foursome entered the Great Hall, the whispers started in earnest.

"Is that – "

"What happened to her hair?"

"Did you see her eyes?"

Hermione held her head high and, flanked by her friends, went immediately to the Gryffindor table and settled in for breakfast as Daphne peeled off for the Slytherin table.

Almost immediately the owls began delivering the post, and Hermione braced herself for the Daily Prophet. She glanced at the picture and immediately began reading the article.

BLACK FAMILY SCANDAL! HEIRESS REVEALED!

From Golden Girl to Black Heiress: The Hidden Identity of Hermione Granger

Hermione Granger of the Golden Trio has been uncovered as Sirius Black's daughter, long-believed to have been murdered by Death Eaters on Halloween 1981. The family held a press conference yesterday. Also accompanying Mr. Black and Miss Black were Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, both famous for their roles in the defeat of Lord Voldemort.

As Hermione began to read, the whispers and comments around her began to swell.

"I say there, Hermione, you've made the front page." Neville teased her, pointing to the picture of Sirius, Harry, Hermione, and Ron on the front page. Hermione stared at the picture. She hadn't realized that she was holding hands with Harry. Bloody Hell, there's no way they won't say something about that. She visibly straightened her spine and turned her attention back to the article.

Mr. Black married Mary MacDonald, a Muggle- born witch and fellow Gryffindor at Hogwarts, immediately after matriculation. According to Mr. Black and Ministry records, the couple had one child, named Catriona Pleiades Black, born on New Year's Day, 1980. Mrs. Black was killed on Halloween 1981 and evidence indicated that her daughter perished with her. Mr. Black was sentenced almost immediately to Azkaban, so no investigation was undertaken at the time to confirm the child's death. Additionally, the family had been in hiding, so the existence of both Mrs. Black and Catriona (now Hermione) was not widely known.

Miss Black remained hidden to all as a Muggle-born witch who entered Hogwarts with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, the three comprising the group now known as the Golden Trio. Whilst details remain elusive, the charms which disguised her identity were broken this past week at Hogwarts. Miss Black appeared at the press conference with Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, both of whom reiterated their support for her. Miss Black and Mr. Potter have been rumored to be romantically linked, and they held hands tightly as the press conference began.

"Well, it could have been worse, I suppose," she sighed. The rest of the article continued in the breathless tone but remained true to the facts.

The gong sounded, and they headed for the doors. But before they could get there, an unwelcome voice intruded.

"Miss Black! I need to speak with you!" Hermione froze in her tracks and turned around to face her least favorite professor, Professor Trallop. Harry, Neville, and Daphne followed suit more slowly.

"Professor. Can I help you?" Hermione answered, her voice frigidly polite.

"Yes; I believe, in light of all the changes, you would benefit from some individual counseling. How about this afternoon?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Professor, this afternoon really won't work. We missed Professor Weasley's class yesterday, and Harry and I are set to make up work with him." Hermione smiled diffidently before continuing. "And we really must go. Professor Slughorn doesn't appreciate it when we're tardy."

"But – "

"Thank you!" Hermione waved as she herded her escorts quickly to the exit, leaving the Professor standing alone with students flowing around her. "I don't like her."

"I agree, Hermione," Daphne mused. "I'm not sure why, though; something just seems off."

Harry and Neville exchanged loaded glances. "It couldn't have anything to do with her being really hot, could it?" Harry teased.

"Honestly, of course not." Hermione huffed.

"Yeah, Harry, of course not." Neville snickered as they reached the door to the Potions classroom. "Of course not."

Wednesday Morning

Breakfast

By the next morning, the headlines in the Daily Prophet had thankfully turned to other things, but Hermione almost dropped her copy in her eggs when she reached the society section. There was a small blurb with a picture of Sirius and a very pretty witch, on a street in London.

"Harry, have you seen this?" She interrupted his perusal of Quidditch scores to point out the photograph and article.

The newly revealed widower Sirius Black was spotted on Sunday afternoon in Notting Hill, London, apparently on an excursion with Deirdre Kathleen Finnigan, a 1988 graduate of Hogwarts School where she was a member of Hufflepuff House. She is currently employed by the Ministry for Magic as the personal assistant of the Minister for Magic himself. Her younger brother, Seamus Finnigan, was a Housemate and classmate of the famed Golden Trio of Gryffindor, which includes Mr. Black's newly discovered daughter, Hermione Black (formerly Granger), Harry Potter, and Ronald Weasley. Mr. Black was somewhat famously sorted into Gryffindor in his own years at Hogwarts despite a strong family tradition of Slytherin membership. Is Mr. Black looking for a new mum for his daughter? What must Miss Black and his godson, Harry Potter, think of this new development? The Prophet, as always, is on the story and will keep you informed.

"Oh great, now we're both going to get owls asking for comments on Sirius's social life." Harry scoffed.

"Well, he needs to be more discreet if he's going to yell at me about going on a date to Hogsmeade," Hermione snapped, folding the paper and tucking it in her bag.

Thursday Evening

Library

Harry permitted himself a small smile when he found Hermione tucked into a table near the Restricted Section of the library. Just where I thought she'd be.

She was so engrossed in the magical law book she was reading, she didn't hear him coming and jumped when a low voice whispered in her ear "Constance vigilance, Hermione."

"Harry! You gave a fright. I was just doing a bit of research, trying to figure out the best way for Daphne and Draco to find a way around their betrothal contract."

"I can tell." Harry smirked as he reached out to look at the spine of the book she was perusing. He settled into the chair beside her. "Want some help?"

She sighed. "No, I was just about to quit in a few minutes. I'm pretty sure the contract is ironclad. They could marry other people since they're of age, but they'll have to find a ministry official willing to perform the ceremony. I'm going to keep looking, though; there might be something."

Harry looked speculatively at the book and his best friend. "You know, Hermione, what do you plan to do after graduation?"

"Well, I was thinking about going to the Auror Academy with you, but – " she looked apologetically at him. "I think I've about had my fill of fighting dark wizards. I'd like to do more with actually prosecuting them, putting them away. I think I could also work to change the laws regarding Magical Creatures. I mean, the way House Elves are treated is just shameful." Her voice trailed off as she saw the smile on his face. "What?"

"You'll be brilliant."

"I don't know about that, but it would be nice to use my ridiculous fame for a good cause."

He took her hand in his. "You realize that you haven't mentioned leaving to go live in the Muggle world, right?"

Hermione abruptly realized he was right. And then she thought about the past week. "I can't imagine living like this – in the spotlight – forever, Harry. It's miserable."

"Yeah, it is. But things'll blow over, 'Mione. I swear they will." He squeezed her hand, trying to lend some comfort and strength.

"This isn't fair to you, you know. If you hadn't been with me, they wouldn't have asked you all those horrible questions." Hermione looked at their joined hands. "I'd understand if you wanted to distance yourself from me in public."

"That's not happening." He paused, "Besides, those stupid and insulting questions made me think."

"Which ones? Because they were all stupid or insulting," Hermione asked drily.

"It was like they thought I was going to live off of Sirius." Harry disconnected their hands and adjusted his glasses and then ran both hands through his unkempt black hair, messing it further.

"And it got me thinking about my parents and what I want to do. And where I was going to live. " He picked up a quill and began to absently twirl it around. "Because I can't live with Sirius in London, and it sounds like he expects you to live with him."

She scoffed. "Now, that's not going to happen, either; I'll find an apartment or something."

Harry sent her a telling look. "He's really thinking you'll live with him, Hermione. And he's getting tenser around me. I just got off a call on the two-way mirror with him. I think he'd pull you out of school if he thought he could get away with it."

"Honestly, he can't be serious."

"He knows he can't get away with it. But it sounds like he's going to start paying more attention to all those pureblood rules that we've been ignoring or just unaware of."

Hermione sighed, resigned. "Which one?"

"Apparently, daughters are expected to live at home until they marry."

She stared at him as if he'd grown another eye. "You're joking."

"Nope. He told me that he hoped you'd consider moving into Grimmauld Place."

"What about you? He's just going to kick you out?" Hermione couldn't believe that Sirius would turn on his godson that way.

Harry shrugged. "It wasn't like it sounds."

"Then what was it like, because it sounds like he's being a right prick," Hermione demanded.

"Well, those reporters made me think about where I was going to live and about my family. I asked Sirius about my father's home. I mean, the Potters were wealthy, Hermione. And you saw the remains of the cottage in Godric's Hollow – it wasn't an estate by any means. And that's no big deal, but I wondered – where did my dad grow up? Was it still around, yeah? Because it'd be my house, right?"

"I hadn't thought about it, but yes - if it exists, it should be yours by the laws of primogeniture," she mused.

"So, it turns out, Sirius knows where it is." Excitement crept into Harry's voice. "It's in Devon, and he's going to take me there. He thinks he can still get through the wards, and I should be able to as well. And if it's in okay shape, then I can live there. That's when he said something about it being good for me to live on my own so you could move into Grimmauld Place."

"If that's what he thinks, he's got another think coming," Hermione said. "But, do you want me to go with you to the Hall? When are you going?"

"Probably in couple of weeks; I'll let you know."

A week later

Friday

Breakfast, The Great Hall

Hermione stared at The Prophet's society section headline. For the first time in several days, she and Harry were the featured story. She thought back to the study session in the library and the flying lesson. Both were just as they appeared. Maybe they had been sitting a little bit closer together than Padma and Justin in the library. And Harry had been very patient with her on the flying lesson. That's why they'd wound up on the same broom. She couldn't get the blasted thing to cooperate, so he'd taken her up on his new Firebolt to demonstrate. Her brow furrowed as she looked at the two pictures. We do look very comfortable together.

"Bloody hell, Hermione; we can't even study together," Harry muttered resentfully. He, too, had the paper in his hand. "And we know it wasn't Padma. Who the hell is doing this?"

"I don't know. It could be anyone, couldn't it?" Hermione folded the paper and tossed it aside in disgust. "We were in school-wide common areas both times."

Bill appeared at their side. "The Headmistress would like to see you both in her office this morning at 8:30. You're excused from my class. We're working on advanced uses of Patronuses, so I think you both will make that up fairly quickly."

Bill squeezed their shoulders and walked away, his loose-limbed stride swiftly carrying him to the doors of the Great Hall, ignoring the fluttering eyelashes and sighs of female students on the way.

"This isn't fair," she said softly as they watched him leave.

"No, it isn't," Harry agreed. "But apparently you and I missed something because we were too wrapped up in getting rid of Voldemort."

"Too distracted to realize that the Wizarding World stopped advancing socially with the death of Queen Victoria?" Sarcasm dripped from her words.

The gong sounded to end breakfast, but they remained seated as the Hall cleared.

Neville slowed down as he and Daphne were passing. "Coming?"

"No, got a meeting with McGonagall," Harry answered.

"Oh, the bit in the paper this morning?" At their answering nods, he continued, "That's rubbish; you weren't doing anything wrong."

Hermione looked up from rummaging around in her bag for a hair tie. "Trust us; we know." She sat up, task accomplished, and pulled her hair into a messy updo with practiced motions. "We know."

Harry couldn't help but grin at the resigned tone in her voice. "You know, Hermione, I've never been able to understand how you do that with your hair and not even look."

"Practice, Harry. Lots of practice," she said drily. "With my hair, longer is easier because I can always put it up."

"I've always liked your hair." He reached up and tugged on a stray tendril, watched it rebound into its normal loose curl. "It suits you."

"Crazy?"

"No." Full of life. Passionate. Harry started to continue, but thought the better of it. "What do you think McGonagall is going to say to us?"

"Lecture us again, maybe?"

Fifteen minutes later, Harry and Hermione stood before the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the stair to McGonagall's office.

"Courage." Harry said the password and the statue moved to allow them entry. Side by side, they arrived in the office.

"Ah. Mr. Potter, Miss Black. You've arrived. Please, come in. Have a seat." As they stepped into the room, a movement in the corner drew their attention. Molly Weasley, still clad in a flour-covered apron, stood near the fireplace Floo.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. Is this worse than we thought? Molly wouldn't come up for no reason.

"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley," they chorused.

"Never mind that," she answered, bustling forward and drawing them both into a motherly embrace. "Have you been eating? You need to come to the house for a weekend soon." She stepped back and cupped their cheeks in turn. "We miss you."

The Headmistress waved her hand, drawing their attention and simultaneously inviting them to make use of the chairs before her desk. She considered them over her the rims of her glasses. "I assume you both saw the paper this morning."

"Yes, ma'am."

Molly moved towards the desk, and the Headmistress conjured a chair from thin air with an efficient wave of her wand and a non-verbal spell so the motherly witch could take a seat.

By silent and mutual agreement, Harry and Hermione waited for McGonagall to continue.

"It's rubbish. I'll be the first to say that. But you two are news, especially since your true parentage has been revealed, Miss Gran – Miss Black." She studied their set jaws. "I know; it's unfair. Someone is betraying your confidence. I thought you'd sorted that out?"

Hermione paled a bit at the oblique reference to how they'd ferreted out Padma's unintentional betrayal. How did McGonagall know?

"We thought we had, Headmistress," Harry replied. "But whoever reported that Hermione and I study together and practiced flying together, well, it could have been anyone. We were in the common areas." He turned to look at Molly. "Why did you come up, Mrs. Weasley? We didn't do anything wrong."

"Harry, dear, I know neither of you did anything wrong. I came to speak to Hermione."

McGonagall leaned forward. "Study in the common room for a bit. Try to avoid public displays."

"No." Hermione refused.

"What was that, Miss Black?" McGonagall questioned.

"No. I'm not going to do it. Harry is my best friend. We've been friends since we were eleven. We lived together in a tent for an entire winter. I refuse to hide our friendship for some antiquated notion of propriety." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest truculently. "I'm not giving him up."

"Harry, how do you feel about this?" Molly asked gently.

"I don't see why we need to hide our friendship."

Molly smiled softly at the set expression on both their faces. "Are you ready to accept any consequences that might occur from that?"

"Yes." Harry nodded.

"Mr. Potter, you may go. I think we need to have a brief chat with Miss Black." McGonagall's crisp tones brooked no defiance.

Jaw set, Harry nodded shortly, reached over and squeezed Hermione's hand. "I'll wait for you."

"I'll be fine, Harry."

"And I said that I'd wait for you." He grabbed his bookbag, hooked it over his shoulder and strode for the door. "See you in a few minutes."

The three witches watched him leave, and as the door closed behind him, Molly took the lead. "Hermione, dear, you do realize that by refusing to temper your relationship with Harry, people are going to make assumptions, and if those assumptions don't come to fruition, you're going to be ostracized."

"This is ridiculous." Hermione sniffed. "I still don't understand what all the fuss is about. We were just studying, for Godric's sake."

"That very well may be true, Miss Black, but in the Wizarding World, prominent witches and wizards are held to a certain standard. And you both are quite prominent. That standard dictates that you must act accordingly." McGonagall strove to make Hermione understand the reality of the situation. "No, it is not fair, but it is life." She held up her hand, palm out, to forestall further protest from Hermione. "Was it fair that you lost your mother and father for most of your life to be raised as a Muggle born? No, it was not. Was it fair that Voldemort murdered Mr. Potter's parents, and he was raised by the worst sort of Muggles? Absolutely not. But it is life." Her voice softened. "Are you absolutely certain that you have no feelings beyond friendship for Mr. Potter?"

"That's not the point!" Hermione dug in her heels. "We shouldn't be forced into a relationship based on some Victorian social more!"

"You didn't answer the question, Hermione," Molly pointed out quietly.

She lifted her chin. "And if I decide to leave the Wizarding World? What then?"

The elder witches both paled at the suggestion.

"That would certainly change things," McGonagall finally agreed. "But it would be most unfortunate for everyone. I hope you think very long and very hard before making that kind of decision."

"What do you want to happen, Hermione?" Molly interjected.

"How can you even ask that? I want to be left alone to make my own decisions. And if Harry and I ever decide to date, I want it to be because we want to, not because the press wants us to!"

"So, you aren't digging in your heels because you don't feel anything for Harry?" Molly pressed.

"Of course I feel something for Harry! He's – " Hermione's voice trailed off. He's the love of my life. "He's my best friend," she finished lamely.

"That's all?"

Hermione visibly wilted in the face of her mentor's simple question. "No."

Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley exchanged a speaking glance.

"We just want what is best for you. And these reports aren't best for you. You're so famous, Hermione."

"What if Harry and I pretended to date? There'd be a blast of publicity and then it would fade, right?"

Mrs. Weasley looked thoughtful. "Maybe. But if nothing came of it, you'd have another round. And this one even more damaging because the expectations would be that you'd be announcing your marriage."

Hermione grimaced.

"Just try to be very discreet, Miss Black. Always think about what you are doing."

A/N: I know, I know...when is Harry going to say something to Hermione? Or when is Hermione going to say something to Harry? The answer: soon. Just not this chapter. But, it's coming...I promise. If you enjoyed the chapter, I'd much appreciate a review. Happy Holidays!