A girl named Hermione Granger: Year Four

Chapter Three: An Aly Who Knows All

Disclaimer: I don't own it; but see bottom for AN if you have questions pertaining to Julie's age!

Hermione picked at her breakfast, uninterested in the food, she had sent her letter to Ginny and already received her answer; the younger girl would be coming over in an hour, although it meant she was going to have to let Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in on their secret as well. Her father had been a little hesitant, but his guilt at upsetting her the night before had been enough to make him allow this.

Her eyes flickered up to the wall, and she sighed, there was no way she could eat now, she was too nervous about how things would go later. She stood from her seat and cleared her plate before heading up to her room. She shut the door quietly and got down on her hands and knees, reaching under her bed for the book she had taken from her vault. She opened it and pulled out the sheet of paper that the Goblin at the desk had given her on her way out of Gringotts; she had originally thought he'd made some sort of mistake, when she'd seen the nearly endless number.

Where her mother had gotten all this money from, she would never know. She knew Kathrine came from a pureblood line, and she guessed the money came from the Dolohov side; because Charity Burbage didn't seem to be that well off. She figured it was likely to be explained in the book addressed to her, though she was hesitant to actually try reading it. She tucked it back under the bed and sighed, pulling out a small leather trunk instead.

She opened the lid and stared at the money inside. She had gone back to Gringotts on her way home with Julie and gotten more money changed, bought the small trunk, and hid the stash under her bed. She knew that if Pettigrew had indeed found Voldemort and passed on his valuable information, her life here could be living on borrowed time. It was best to keep an emergency kit packed. She withdrew around fifty pounds and stuffed them into her pockets, before closing the trunk and sliding it back into its hiding place next to the book.

She spent the next several minutes composing a letter to Harry, telling him about her upcoming day with Ginny, asking if his treat supplies were still fine, and promising to send hers that night, after she went to the super market. She had plenty of wizard treats and sweets, but she wanted to get him some sugar free ones, as a bit of a joke. He would probably find it funny, seeing as she had been raised in a house where both adults were dentists.

She was just re-reading her parchment for errors when her father called out to her from the stairs. "It's time to go!" She took a deep, calming breath, and left her room, closing the door securely behind her. When she reached the landing, she was greeted by both her father and Julie. "Thought I'd tag along," Julie said, laughing at the surprise on Hermione's face, "Seeing as Molly and Arthur like me."

Hermione decided not to comment as she followed them into her father's study, and he plucked the jar off the mantle, holding it down to her level, "Ladies first," He sounded so serious that she was still laughing as she arrived at the Burrow, falling to the floor. Two warm hands gripped her wrists and pulled her to her feet, dusting away the soot from her clothes.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, it's good to see you. My dad and Julie are right behind me." She smiled at the stout middle aged witch dusting her off, and waved awkwardly at her husband, as he leant against the wall holding the prophet. Molly stopped fussing over her and stepped back, "It's good to see you too dear. I am surprised your father knows how to use the Floo though," this was the foreshadowing of the upcoming awkwardness that Hermione was afraid of. "Actually, before he gets here, it's not David Granger." She figured it would be much nicer to give them forewarning.

Arthur tucked his paper under his arm and stepped forward to place his hand on his wife's shoulder, "Remember Molly, we spoke about this earlier," He offered Hermione a small smile, "I spoke with him early this morning, never got around to telling Molly though. Why don't you go find Ginny? I think she's up in her room, up the stairs on the first floor, her names on the door."

The young brunette was thankful that at least one person knew what to expect, and graciously excused herself from the room and made her way towards the stairs. She was only a few feet up before she heard the sound of her father and Julie arriving, and the resulting exclamation of Molly ("Oh my word!")

She had barely reached the landing when Ginny opened her bedroom door, "Oh good, you're here! Come in and tell me the secret before Ron sticks his nose in!" The young red head pulled Hermione in without waiting for a response and the elder Gryffindor was taken aback by the sheer amount of green inside the room. "Wow." Ginny directed her over to a pile of cushions on the floor, "Sorry, Fred and George swiped my chair and stool last night. Sit and tell me!"

"Right," Hermione made herself comfortable, as Ginny locked her big, bright brown eyes on her, "So, I'm not sure how to start, but I'll say first that I'm not actually a muggle born witch." Ginny gasped and scooted in closer, "So you have wizard parents?" "Yes, although you're never going to believe who my dad is." The intense curiosity on Ginny's face was making Hermione feel giddy, and she was actually excited to say her secret out loud to someone who didn't know; "It's Snape."

Ginny shrieked and fell face first onto her floor, having leaned too far forward, "SNAPE! As in Professor Snape!" As if to answer her disbelief, the door to Ginny's room swung open to reveal all four adults, obviously drawn by the shriek. Ginny's eyes went wide as saucers as she spotted the potions master, dressed in his preferred casual summer clothes, a pair of dress pants and a collared shirt, "N-no way!" She turned her gaze back on Hermione, gaping at the blushing brunette, "How come you never said anything? All those jerks would have left you alone if they knew he was your dad!"

Hermione coughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of her neck with her hand, "It's a secret, and no one was supposed to know. It took Harry and Ron three years to figure out, and it likely would have taken longer if they hadn't gotten that clue at the beginning of the month…" She tried to direct her father's attention away from what Ginny had said, not wanting to explain why she had allowed herself to be bullied.

A quick glance in her father's direction, however, told her she was going to be answering it later. The room was silent a moment, until Julie suggested that they have a cup of tea, and the adults were gone down into the kitchen before either young girl could blink.

"So," Ginny said slowly, looking from the now vacant doorway to Hermione, "I can come visit you at his house?" Hermione nodded, "That's where I live," She was cut off from saying anything else as Molly's voice called out and told them to come to the kitchen for tea. "This is so surreal; your dad is our teacher. You were right; I didn't see it coming at all." The two girls made their way down the single flight of stairs and into the kitchen, where Arthur had resumed reading his paper, and Molly was fawning over Julie, while Severus sipped at his tea, discussing an article in the paper with Arthur quietly.

The two young girls took seats at the end of the table, where cups had been placed for them, and drank silently until a clock on the wall chimed twelve. "Oh dear!" Molly shot out of her chair, "I really should start lunch; will you be staying?" Severus sent an apprehensive look towards Julie, hoping for an escape route, (he'd rather have a nice quiet lunch at home,) and the green eyed woman sighed. "I'm afraid we really should go, I have to meet with the realtor in a half hour."

And so, with a few quick farewells, Hermione and Ginny were the first into the fireplace, followed soon after by Severus and Julie. Ginny looked around, as Hermione showed her the house, with wide eyes. There was a certain old feeling about the place, but it was kept quite neat and it looked as though it had been furnished by Severus himself. There were all the furnishings you would expect in a house, but it gave off the overall feeling of strictness.

When Hermione showed Ginny into her room, the younger girl let out a great "HA!" of surprise, taken aback by the amount of pink. "Wow, you really like pink that much?" Ginny asked, looking over the walls, and to the bed spread, and the brunette groaned, "I prefer green, actually. Julie and Narcissa decorated –" "Mrs. Malfoy?" The fourteen year old laughed nervously, "I forgot to mention Draco and I are fairly close, didn't I?" Ginny whistled lowly, and threw herself down on Hermione's bed, "Hermione Granger; master of the double life." She joked, gesturing to the room with her hand.

"Let's go into town, I'm tired of being cooped up. We'll bring the football and go to the park." Hermione pulled the black and white checkered ball out from under her bed and twirled it on her finger, tilting her head towards the door. "What's football?" Hermione bit her lip and debated how to explain the sport. It wasn't close enough to Quidditch for a comparison, and as far as she knew, the wizarding world only had one sport. "Well, it's a muggle sport, with only one ball – this one – and two nets."

Ginny followed her down the stairs, as the brunette explained, and once they reached the front door, caught the ball as Hermione passed it to her. "Hang on, I'll let dad know where we're going, so he doesn't panic later." She slipped down the hall and into the kitchen where her father and Julie were splitting a plate of sandwiches, "We're going to go to the park, and get some lunch. What time is dinner?"

Severus let his eyes flicker up to the clock on the wall, "Six." Hermione nodded and was gone before he could blink. "You think it's ok to let them loose in Spinner's End?" Julie asked, after watching the way his eyes trailed after his daughter. Things had definitely changed, between the two. She could remember a time when he had insisted no one she was connected to could come to the small muggle village; and she'd thought for sure that the rule would have been reinforced this year. However, here he was, letting Hermione run loose. Severus just shrugged, "No. Dumbledore and I had a conversation, at the end of last year, and we came to an agreement." He placed his half eaten ham sandwich on the table and ran his hands through his hair, "This," he gestured to the house with his hands, "is a dream living on borrowed time now. The past three years have been hard on Hermione, as you're well aware. Adjusting to the fact she was adopted, settling in to a prejudiced culture of pure supremacy, and she's tried very hard to connect with me."

His stomach sank, as he thought of his strained relationship with his daughter, "Not to say it's been easy on myself. But now, with Pettigrew gone, and likely at the dark lord's side, the secret is useless. There's going to come a day when she won't be able to stay here safely, and neither will you. You already know this, and I believe Hermione realizes it on some level."

As Julie let his words sink in, she knew he was right. It wouldn't likely be long until this came crashing down. It made sense, she guessed, that Severus would allow his daughter so much freedom this summer, before the responsibilities and fears coming their way could settle in. "You wanted her to play summer sports, didn't you?" She asked coyly, giving him a falsely accusing look, "To get her in shape for whatever is ahead."

Severus picked his sandwich up and smirked slightly, "Perhaps." In fact, it had not been his original goal. He'd been planning on giving her an exercise routine while she was grounded, but this had just sort of fallen into place on its own.

Hermione sighed as she basked in the sun, "I love summer. It's so warm all the time." Ginny nodded in agreement beside her, as they walked down the scorching pavement, "So, football? Tell me more." "Right, sorry. So, it's played on the ground, of course. And the object is to kick the ball into the opposing team's net."

As they walked, they passed a particularly well-cared for house, a few streets away from Snape's, with a group of rowdy young teenagers lounging in the front lawn, playing with hoses and water balloons. "Are you friends with any of the muggles?" Ginny asked, watching with interest as two boys sprayed down a group of girls with the hoses in their hands.

Hermione glanced in the direction of the commotion and snorted, "As if; they are so stuck up. Especially that blonde girl there; think Daphne Greengrass. They all think I'm some poor orphan." She remembered, with a vicious smirk, the shouting match she had had with the blonde girl a few days prior. "There's elitist muggles?" "Of course there is. The rich ones think they're better than everyone else. But let me tell you, if she could see the pile of gold I have, she'd die of embarrassment."

By now they had turned the corner and could see the park off in the distance, sitting surprisingly empty. "Pile of gold? Professor Snape is rich?" Hermione chuckled, and threw her arm around Ginny's shoulder, "No, but my mum was. And seeing as she's dead, he put her vault in my name." Ginny squirmed out of her grip and gave her a hard look, "Speaking of your mom; who was she?" "Kathrine Dolohov."

The brunette waited for the explosion she was sure would follow. She had never told anyone who her mother was before, afraid to find out her reputation. Ginny did not disappoint. "WHAT!" The red head shrieked, stopping dead in her tracks, gaping at the older girl with great, bulging eyes, "D-Dolohov?" Ginny spluttered for a moment, and Hermione stopped a few steps ahead of her, looking back at her sheepishly, "Yeah. Before you ask, that Dolohov. From what little I do know about her, we can all be thankful she's dead."

She was beginning to wish she hadn't said anything now; she'd held no illusions of her mother being a saint, but it was painful to see such a reaction. Especially since Ginny had taken so well to Snape being her father. "So, was she a – you know – follower?" Ginny's face was pale as she asked, and Hermione debated lying. "Yes." She replied before she could stop herself; it felt wrong to lie to Ginny. "She was. Tried to make me one too, but she keeled over before she could."

Hermione plucked the ball out of Ginny's hands as they stepped into the park, "Let's scrimmage." She wasn't so sure continuing their conversation in the open was a good idea. "But I'd like to know how you wound up with all her money then," the twelve year old persisted, "I'm not sure, all I can gather is that sometime between when my parents were married and I was adopted by the Grangers, my mum's parent's split. And since Charity Burbage is a teacher, I'm guessing all the money came from Dolohov. And I have a suspicion, mind you it's just speculation, that the vault won't let anyone else touch the gold inside. There's things I can't even touch." An image of the many books lining the shelves came to mind, and she shrugged, "It's not terribly important. It just means I can afford things for school without difficulty."

Ginny sighed, looking around the park, "You're so lucky." The fourteen-year-old groaned, and dropped the ball to the ground, "Not really Ginny. You know how things are, and it gets worse you know," She kicked the ball gently, and it rolled to a stop in front of Ginny as she stepped back to place some distance between them, "Every summer so far, without fail, I get attacked by dark wizards."

A chilly breeze swept over them, and they both shivered, "I was attacked in this park, when I was eleven." She could still remember how scared she'd been as Lucius Malfoy had towered over her, with his wand drawn, and the long black cloak covering his face. "And I don't know what's going to happen when Voldemort returns, but I know I won't be living here."

Ginny kicked the ball back to her, and she stopped it with the side of her foot, before kicking it back, as a cloud rolled over the sun and blocked the heat for a moment, "How can you know that?" Briefly, Hermione wished for the ignorance she'd had the summer before, when she had been twelve herself; before she had stolen her own youth. "I can't say here, but I'll tell you later. Come on, let's go get some lunch. This park creeps me out when it's empty."

End chapter three!

I'm updating this at approximately 1:40 am due partly to the super long review I got tonight (thank you, by the way, this gives me a chance to explain Julie further) and partly, also, to twelve onces of wine plus beer and whiskey (don't judge; I am old enough to drink in whatever country I should like; though I hate to admit I write fanfiction at my age (about mid twenties; I'm telling you exactly how old I am; for that is one thing a woman never reveals :P) but just know I'm not some alcoholic teenager.)

Okay; so Julie.

She is intended to be two years younger than Severus. GRANTED I did intend her to be younger in the first story; my bad for the confusion. I never intended for her to pop out as a witch; the plot just sort of led that way. In Year Four, she is supposed to be 31 (icarus, I applaud your conception of the ages. You are spot on. And I'm sorry for the confusion. It's sort of a curse that comes with writing on my part. I wish I'd explained that particular part better; however thank you for enjoying my series so far!)

Alright, so onto the regular portion of my AN: This is the only solo-time Hermione and Ginny have, sadly. However, that may change a smidge when I get to writing the world cup. Don't be mad! I got swept away with my new Legend Of Zelda Twilight Princess Fanfiction, but I will finish this series. I am equally split between my love of both Link and Snape, so I won't forget one in favor of the other. That, and the fact that my mind contsantly spits out ideals of both universes when faced with problems, should be more than enough to keep me going on both. BUT my LoZ fanfic may not end up posted. I've come up with some ideas for it which I can actually use for a real novel. Without copywright infringement. And my priority is to become a real author. If I managed to create my own original series and had people write fanfiction about it, I could never ask more from life. Whether we admit it or not, we develop a fond sort of love for the fanfictions we read and write, and that, more than anything, is what brings the stories to life. Which is what any author wants. It's not about selling books, it's about sharing stories which make people happy. And, fans, if I do manage to get my own novel published, I'll let you all know. (It will undergo much more editing than any fanfiction of mine, as well.) And listen to me ramble...that's the wine...in part. We all know I ramble in my author's notes. I can't help it. I doubt whether many people read them or not, but it's good for author's to vent.

So, yes...thank you to my readers, for keeping me going, and please continue to follow!