Author's note: Let's get something straight! I, myself, am a genealogist and a historian, so... technically I do not find it a problem in the Potterverse universe, though I understand modern day foibles with the issue: Hermione and Draco are what can be called third cousins, or, technically, second cousins once removed. It is, yes, still a genetic issue, but we know how the Potterverse is... (at least they're not first cousins like Sirius' parents, got it?) Anyone who is not comfortable with this endgame relationship should either tell me what other relationship they wish to see (it would likely be Theomione) or shut the heck up, because I. am. aware. of. the. issue. Have no fear of that. I'm not dumb, and am not an incest fetishist. I just know how history has been for the, basically, last forever. I mean, come on. We're all Potterverse fans, and all know how stupidly screwed up the bloodlines are in Magical Britain.


Hermione thanked Lady Malfoy for vanishing the ash off of her clothes and hair, and her son did the same, graciously nodding his head at his mother. She looked around the shop they had flooed into (all other times they'd flooed into Diagon, it had been by way of the Leaky) and her eyes nearly bugged out at the opulence of the place. They were in a waiting room with the doorways tastefully covered in shimmering fabric drapes.

Narcissa caught Hermione looking and smiled indulgently (which in itself was a very odd thing for Hermione to be on the receiving end of). "It's a beauty supply shop which caters to the aristocracy. The types of people who don't want to go through the dinginess of the Leaky Cauldron."

Hermione wanted to get her back up at that comment, but she really couldn't argue with the fact that the Leaky was dingy. And she wanted to argue about the aristocracy comment, but didn't really know what to say since a) Lady Malfoy and her son were technically aristocracy or as close to it as one could get in Wizarding Britain, and b) now she was part of all that. Like it or not.

Lady Malfoy sensed her discomfort and gave Sirius (as Padfoot) a look. Hermione wasn't sure what that look meant, but the next moment Padfoot was pushing his head into her palm and pressing his tall shoulder firmly into her hip. She'd seen him do the same thing to Harry plenty of times; seen him relax right away into the touch. Finally she knew why. She'd always loved cuddles from pets, especially Crookshanks, and this was not only similar to that, but it was also comfort from a man whom she'd learned to trust—and long before she knew he was her father.

Which was still weird.

Soon enough, Hermione was squaring her shoulders as they stood at the threshold of the door into Diagon Alley, and took a deep breath as she reached for the door handle.

They stepped out into the sun shining on the Alley, and proceeded towards Ollivander's; their first stop.

As they walked, Hermione became increasingly aware of people looking at them. Especially of people looking at her in a way she'd never been looked at before.

She had always been the Golden Girl of the Golden Trio. Over the last two or so years she'd become accustomed to being recognized for that alone, but she'd never changed an inch of who she was just because of that (though the Yule Ball was a special moment, she fondly remembered). But now she was all done up in a beautiful set of witch's robes, in public (even if her hair was as unrestrained as ever), and in the company of Lady Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, the designated Lord of the Malfoy estate while his father was in Azkaban. People could not stop staring, and the further they went down the Alley, the more people stared. Because there was no mistaking the fact that they were here together .

The Golden Girl, with the Malfoys ?

The Malfoys did not even deign to glance to either side, their faces not quite impassive, but schooled into genteel expressions that didn't reveal what they were thinking. But Hermione couldn't quite help looking around, as much as she tried not to.

Narcissa had looped her hand through her son's and quietly but assuredly spoke to Hermione, subtly pointing out with her facial expressions the various people on their route towards their first appointment.

Hermione quickly caught on that it was all part of 'the plan'.

"That one over there is Lady Greengrass. Her husband currently holds their Wizengamot seat, and they have two daughters who are at Hogwarts right now. One is in yours and Draco's year. They are one of the more neutral parties in the current politics."

She inclined her head slightly to the other side a few moments later. "Mrs. Parkinson there has a daughter in your year as well. Their family is… not quite what your father would want—" Padfoot shook his head. "—for an ally, but there is room there, and she and I have history."

Another few feet, and someone gasped as she brought her ringed hand up to brush at a flyaway strand of curls, tucking it behind her ear. The sun must have glinted off of her ring, and Hermione had to admit that they were pretty distinctive and recognisable pieces of jewelry.

"Madam Bones, there, is relatively recent to the post of head of the DMLE. While she would sooner kill me than take a floo call from myself or my family," she said with a hint of a rueful smile tugging at her lips, "she adored Sirius in school and their family would make for a strong ally. Again, a niece in your year at Hogwarts."

There were a few other ladies that Narcissa pointed out to Hermione on their walk, along with a handful of men, but there were also others who weren't even there whom Hermione received the rundown on. She found herself creating new lists and categories inside her mind to handle all of the new information, but she couldn't deny that it would be helpful. Helpful for whatever Narcissa and Sirius were planning, but also helpful for what she, Harry, and Ron were trying to do to help Sirius gain his freedom.

Still, it was a bit of an unsettling experience to walk the gauntlet as they were doing. And, by Merlin, it was a gauntlet.

Sirius' presence at her side, trotting along, helped some, but she was finally happy to make it to the wand shop. Ollivander ushered them inside, locked the door, and closed the blinds with a wave of his own wand, before turning to Narcissa and bowing slightly to the lady. He offered one to Draco as well, before eyeing Hermione. His sharp eyes caught the silver glint of her ring, and Hermione couldn't help but notice his eyes widening in surprise before he bowed his head at her. "Heir Granger," he greeted her with the only name he had for her.

She didn't offer up her name, but Narcissa took the reins. "Master Ollivander, I have the honour of introducing you to Heir Black, Sirius Black's daughter. Heir Black, I believe you know Master Ollivander."

And with that, Hermione's fate was officially sealed. "It has been some years," she smiled as she replied, "but I remember you fondly, Master Ollivander. The pleasure is mine."

Draco's eyebrows shot right up at Hermione's greeting, but Narcissa seemed pleased, and gave her an approving nod. Honestly, though, Malf—Draco's continued good behaviour was almost… unsettling.

Padfoot nipped at her skirts and she moved off to the side with him, letting her fingers drift through his ruff nearly subconsciously as she sat in a chair near the front window. Fondly remembering her own (first and only) visit to Ollivander's years ago, she made sure to stay out of the way as the Malfoys acquired new wands. It was a bit more of an elegant process than that of an eleven year old's, with far less accidental magic to worry about, and with minimal damage to the property, the two blonds were new owners of their very own wands.

There was a palpable air of contentment buzzing in the magic surrounding them, and even Hermione sighed in relief along with the Malfoys, who were finally owners of their very own, personalized, wands rather than borrowed ones which didn't respond to them as well as their own would have.

As they exited the shop, a thin and pale man with light ginger hair was standing in their way. Draco and Narcissa's spines stiffened, though Hermione was pretty sure only she noticed as she was standing behind them. Padfoot growled, but Hermione reached her hand out to run it soothingly down the back of his neck and back, soothing his hackles as best she could. He shivered under her hand, but let the growl peter out. Hermione pressed herself against his side, offering him comfort.

"Narcissa," the man greeted the stately woman, offering her only the smallest of courtesy nods.

Narcissa's grip on her son's arm firmed before she gracefully dropped both their arms to their sides. "Mister Carrow, you honour us with your presence," she replied much more politely. "What may we do for you?" Draco nodded his head politely at the man as well, finally, though Hermione hung back. She wasn't even a blip on the man's radar, and so far she preferred that.

"You've been missed around the Manor," the man stated, thin lips smirking. Hermione felt a flare of anger within her, and she didn't even like the Malfoys.

"I am sure that the elves have been perfectly helpful and courteous to the many guests the Manor has been playing host to," Narcissa replied evenly.

The skinny man stepped closer, very obviously beyond the line of propriety, but Narcissa stood her ground. "You obviously want something, Mister Carrow. May you please state your business before we are delayed?"

The man's beady eyes first swept over Draco with derision and then caught on Hermione, whose shoulders and back were already as perfectly placed as she could get to copying Narcissa's bearing. After a moment his eyes swept back to Narcissa. He lowered his voice only slightly, but the fact he was speaking at all, in the clear daylight of a crowded Diagon Alley, reminded Hermione that the movement and support for Voldemort was only growing stronger with every day. "Your host demands your presence. He is very displeased that you and your son left the premises before he was… done with you." A glint of malicious glee sparked in Carrow's eyes. Hermione, knowing what it was they had suffered, wanted to punch the slimy beast right in the mouth, surprising even herself.

Narcissa said nothing, but Carrow seemed pleased enough. "Our Lord can be merciful, Narcissa, Heir Malfoy," he said as if Lucius would be back anytime soon. "He will grant you amnesty for your return. This… betrayal can be forgiven." His eyes flicked to Draco. "Heir Malfoy, I urge you to command your mother to see the error of his ways. All can be forgiven. Her flight can be attributed to… female delusions."

Before Draco could spit something out in defense of his mother and their decisions, Hermione stepped forward. She didn't even think about it. She didn't stop to wonder if this was the right thing to do, the right place to do it, the right time… but she felt this righteous fury welling up inside of her at the sight of—her godmother? a woman? a wife? a mother? anyone?—being so threatened.

"Mister Carrow," Hermione practically spat, though she kept her shoulders back and chin up. Which, she thought offhandedly, was what Ron and Harry would say her default protection stance would be. "If you have no true business with Lady Malfoy, I suggest you take yourself elsewhere." She dropped part of her wand into her palm, from its wrist holster hidden beneath her sleeve. It was a practiced and very smooth move, and she was sure that it hadn't been noticed. The D.A. had certainly taught her more than how to cast a patronus.

"And who may you be?" Carrow sneered.

"I am Heir Black, Mister Carrow, and you should not forget that. Sirius Black is my father, and he holds grudges like no one else. A thing we share, it seems. There is nothing he hates more than Death Eaters, besides maybe Pettigrew, though that could encompass the former," she sneered—she had no idea how it looked, but she knew she'd never sneered quite like it before—"and he will return. Have faith in that, if nothing else. He will return and enact his vengeance, and my friends and I—Oh? Did I forget to mention that I'm Hermione, of the Golden Trio? Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Black, previously Granger. Well, my friends will be by Lord Black's side, and we offer protection to the Malfoys as true family and allies." The last was practically hissed in his face, her hand making cutting motions of emphasis. "Begone with you, and tell your Lord that the next time we see him he better be more prepared than at the Department of Mysteries. A true loss for him, I believe, and mostly because of a handful of teenagers!" she laughed—calculated, but not entirely false. Actually, nowhere near false—she found the entire battle at the DoM, despite her attack, almost laughable in how, for the most part, a group of teenagers had been able to force the capture of nearly a dozen Death Eaters.

Adrenaline was flowing through her veins—she sensed a giant flare in rage and magic from the other man, though he reined it in just in time—and she could not believe half of what she'd managed to say, but she was pleased, back straightening even further, when Amycus Carrow cast her an incredulous look before turning on his heel and disappearing back into the crowd. Hermione followed his progress with a flinty gaze, and then stared down nearly every single person who had been close enough to see the exchange. Her gaze was caught, moment by moment, by multiple people who seemed to either agree or disagree with her stance. She carefully catalogued the faces of each of them.

She resisted the urge to sigh, knowing now that her secret would spread like wildfire. But had it truly been a secret? She'd already planned to introduce herself to society as her 'true self', but this felt like it had run roughshod all over her plans for a slow integration into society. Well, nothing for it, she supposed.

Hermione turned to Narcissa, who looked rather pleased—not with herself, but with Hermione—and Draco, who looked… she had never seen the expression on his face, but he looked at her with a modicum of respect, and even tilted his head in her direction with a slight bow of his neck… which she understood to be a huge thing. Whether for standing up for his mother or for practically outing herself to the entirety of Wizarding Britain and even its colonies, she wasn't sure, but it was absolutely surreal seeing him looking at her like that.

"Well, she said with some finality, smoothing out the wrinkles she'd clenched into her skirt, "shall we carry on with our morning plans, or let a Death Eater frighten us right back into our hiding?"

They carried on with their morning plans—now practically afternoon—but the eyes of the crowd following them had an entirely different cast to them than they had earlier that day.

Hermione felt another tumbler fall into place in the lock that was her life, though she wasn't quite sure yet if it was good or bad.


Author's note: Yes I'm definitely still writing! I'm just taking my time as I am disabled and dealing with mental illness, but I am SO excited to be writing again, you have no idea. So, updates may be sporadic, but this fic is bringing me great comfort and excitement (a lot of it is because of you wonderful readers and commenters!) and I am nowhere near to setting it aside.

Things may be a little slow to start, but I need for certain things to happen before they get back to Hogwarts, and that will definitely take some checking off of lists. 3

Looking forward, just as you are, to when it's mostly the teens at Hogwarts again!