Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It and any characters from the franchise that may appear in this fanfiction are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling. This story was written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made from this story.
Author's note: Eternal thanks to my beta, GeekandProud (AO3) a.k.a. AnimeIsMyCrack (FF) who also made the cover image for this story.
- Malfoy Manor, 12th of August 1991 -
Draco could immediately tell that his mother and father had been fighting about joining both Harry and Hermione for a heritage test at Gringotts. Deandra confided that she had heard them yelling at each other and had secretly made his dad choke up just so his mother could get the last word before they left for Little Whinging.
Lucius Malfoy didn't believe in such nonsense as muggle-borns being the offspring of squibs, angering Narcissa who, luckily, was not as aloof as her husband was. She had told Lucius off, saying that as a daughter of the house Black, it was her duty to go and check on Mr. Potter, who himself was of Black descent through his great-grandmother. She had taken Draco's hand, and actually hissed at her husband that they would talk more about it later before Tipsy apparated them away to Potter's house. Just before they left Draco couldn't help but look at his mother in a new light. She was the epitome of a Lady.
Draco had to admit, Privet Drive seemed like an awfully dull and monotone place to live. About a minute after they arrived, Dobby showed up with Hermione and her mother at the apparition point. The two mothers greeted each other politely and Hermione enthusiastically started explaining what a car was to Draco. As she droned on about the intricacies of muggle transportation, he realised how similar she was to the Hermione he'd known. Hopefully, she would grow up to be as brave, helpful, cunning, and determined as her counterpart.
As they started walking towards the address that Harry had provided in the two-way-diary, asking them to please dress as "normally" as they could, Draco eyed his mother. She had happily agreed to Harry's request and was wearing muggle designer clothes. She, Lady Parkinson, and Lady Greengrass would occasionally go shopping in muggle London, Paris, and New York. Sometimes they'd even visit Milan if Lady Zabini invited them to her summer house in Italy. Even if they were upstanding pure-blood wives, they had an eye for fashion and all agreed that was at least one thing the muggles were good at.
Draco was initially surprised that his mother hadn't even flinched when shaking Dr. Granger's hand and even went and complimented the other woman on her choice of purse and shoes. His mother was clearly on her best behaviour, trying to impress the mother of the potential heir of a lost ancient house. If only she knew that Hermione's mother was the descendant of Celeste Malfoy. Draco couldn't help but chuckle. She'd probably adopt the woman as her unofficial sister-in-law once Hermione conducted the heritage test. Oh, his father was going to love that.
On their way towards the Dursleys, the two mothers mentioned their concern of Harry's living conditions since both of their children had mentioned some of Harry's remarks on his family.
"Petunia Dursley won't know what hit her when our mums put up an allied front against her," Hermione whispered as she leaned into him. Her eyes twinkled with mischief, clearly eager to see what would happen to Harry's aunt once they arrived.
Once they rounded the corner, they immediately got introduced to Petunia's manners as they heard her screeching through the street. "Are you trying to be difficult, boy? Do you think now that you are going to that stupid school that you are more special than us? You are still nothing more than a freak! Now do it again. I want this garden to be spotless. No weeds at all."
Draco could see his mother's hand twitch, almost as if to reach for her wand hidden in her pocket. Dr. Granger looked equally as murderous.
"Now children," Narcissa began. "Please let us ladies do the talking. I know exactly how to deal with this."
Both children nodded and Hermione winked at Draco. "Showtime," she mouthed as she put on the most innocent angelic smile on her face before facing off against Petunia Dursley.
Narcissa Malfoy held her head up high as the four of them walked closer and eventually greeted Petunia. Harry looked at them, still removing the weeds from the garden. He smiled at his friends, rolled his eyes and made a strangling motion at his aunt. Hermione suppressed a giggle, and he just smirked at Harry.
"Oh dear," Harry's aunt began, wiping her hands on her apron, looking left and right, adjusting her hair before finally reaching out her hand to Draco's mother. "Can I help you two ladies?"
Draco almost snorted at her stupid display. She must have noticed the power and money his mother had just from looking at her outfit and the way she held herself. From what he'd heard of Potter's supposed family, they attempted to mingle with the higher ranks in their society. No wonder that Harry's aunt would immediately recognize the two women for what they were. Rich and powerful.
"I am Lady Malfoy," his mother introduced herself, shaking Petunia's hand. "And this is my dear friend, Doctor Granger. We were wondering if you would be willing to help us?"
Petunia nodded at the two women eagerly. A lady and a doctor had just asked for her assistance after all.
Harry suddenly hissed in pain as he got up, a small trail of blood running down from his hand as he cut himself on something in the rose bushes.
Both mothers looked at Harry, disgust clear on their faces. What Petunia Dursley didn't realise was that the disgust was aimed at her, rather than her nephew. She'd made a big mistake there.
"Oh, don't mind him. He's my nephew, he doesn't usually come out. He's mentally ill you see. Now what can I help you ladies with? Are you lost?"
"Mrs. Dursley," Narcissa interrupted her, smirking. "Perhaps I should have introduced myself differently. My full name is Lady Narcissa Malfoy, né Black. I am sure you've heard of my cousin and his associates? Lord Sirius Black and Lord James Potter have certainly visited your family's home, back in the day when Lily was still at Hogwarts?"
Petunia immediately took a step back, looking back and forth between the four of them. These women could not be wizards, could they? They didn't even dress like them. She also knew that doctors weren't a thing in the magical world. What had Lily told their mother she was studying? Oh right. To be a healer. How stupid was that. Perhaps, if she'd decided to settle down with a nice husband like herself and decided on becoming a housewife, her sister would still be alive, she thought.
"We are here to retrieve Heir Potter and take him to get better insight into his funds and estates at Gringotts bank in London. I hope that suits you?" his mother asked, feigning innocence with a smile on her face. Draco knew that smile. She was ready to kill.
"You are like them," Petunia spat at his mother, actual spit flying in her face. If his mother wasn't scared to be contaminated by muggles before, she probably was now. "Bunch of freaks. And I guess these children of yours are nothing more than-"
Dr. Granger raised her voice now, stepping in front of both him and Hermione protectively. "Don't you dare call my daughter a freak. If anyone is a freak, it is you and your husband for treating a child like this. Have you looked at that poor boy? Do you even feed him?"
Harry visibly cringed at that, but Hermione's mum soon turned her attention to him. "Why don't you grab your jacket before we go, Harry?" she asked with a smile on her face. "It is quite chilly today and we wouldn't want you to catch a cold."
Harry wiped the dirt on his hands on his pants, and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Dr. Granger, but I… Uhm. I don't own a jacket."
All four of them blinked at Harry. Draco could even feel Hermione's angry magic tickle the air around them. His mother seemed to have noticed too and raised an eyebrow in approval. He finally realised why his Hermione had been so set on saving Harry from the Dursleys if she could ever go back. The boy didn't even own a bloody jacket. Had he ever owned anything before coming to Hogwarts?
"Dear Merlin," Narcissa whispered, pinching her nose in frustration. "Tipsy, get Mr. Potter some clothes suited to visit the goblins," she ordered, a house elf now appearing in the Dursleys' doorway, just hidden from street view. Mrs. Dursley however, turned around and screamed at the strange little creature, making Tipsy snap her fingers to shut the muggle up before she urged Harry to come inside with her. They soon ran up the stairs, making sure he would be properly dressed.
"Like you, Mrs. Dursley," Hermione's mother threatened, "I am a muggle. And I can assure you, you and your perfect life could be ruined very easily if I let the authorities know of your child abuse. If the magical community will do nothing to protect Mr. Potter, then I will." Bloody hell, Hermione's mother could be as ruthless as his.
Petunia had turned pale at that comment, still unable to talk as Tipsy's magic was still doing its job. If the authorities came after her and Vernon, that would mean trouble.
Narcissa smiled as Harry came back down the stairs, finally dressed in clothes that actually fit him. His hair was an impossible mess as always. At least that was something he and Hermione had in common, Draco thought.
"Please join us, Harry. We have much to discuss," Lady Malfoy said while offering the scrawny 11-year-old her hand.
When he took her hand in his, Draco thought for a moment that this was probably the boy's first friendly encounter in the house he grew up in. How utterly bizarre that must be. Granted, Lucius wasn't that great of a father, but he'd always felt happy and safe with his mother around. He could barely begin to imagine what it was like growing up with people who actually despised you.
Tipsy and Dobby apparated the five of them away, finally allowing Petunia Dursley to let out a scream as she looked at the place they disappeared in fear. What if the neighbours had just seen them?!
- Half an hour later, Gringotts -
Both mothers' instincts had kicked in when they had a scrutinising look at Harry and they had immediately made a detour and offered to buy him some breakfast in Diagon Alley or muggle London if he would so prefer. The boy, not used to this attention, blushed sheepishly and mentioned he hadn't eaten breakfast for quite a while. The women just got angrier at that and ran into the first bakery they saw, making sure to order some extra so Harry had something to nibble on the rest of the day.
Hermione, trying to distract Harry, started asking questions about Hogsmeade, and to Draco's utter surprise quidditch. Bloody hell, she must really have been trying to get Harry engaged in the conversation as they made their way to Gringotts, all three of them nibbling on a croissant as they went.
During the conversation Draco noticed that his mother had cast a muffliato around herself and Dr. Granger. They were probably discussing Harry's situation and how to proceed. He certainly hoped they would come up with something.
As they finally walked up to one of the tellers at Gringotts and were led down to Ragnok's office, Draco could feel Deandra's anticipation match his own when Hermione stepped forward for her heritage test.
"Now, young lady, all you need to do is prick your finger with the tip of the dagger and let a single drop of blood fall onto the bottom of this parchment here. I will immediately heal the wound afterwards, so don't be afraid," a goblin which Draco had never seen before explained to her.
Hermione eagerly nodded, taking it all in, and Draco could tell she was just bursting with questions to ask. He smiled fondly, immediately cooling his expression when he noticed his mother raising an eyebrow at him.
Ragnok was also watching intently as Hermione was ready to begin. There was a lot of monetary gain to be had if either the Granger or Potter child turned out to be heirs from long forgotten houses. Maybe he should start a policy to test all young witches and wizards who came to set up an account at Gringotts. The Ministry would have a field day with that one. The Director grinned at the thought.
Hermione pricked her finger gently on the dagger and as soon as the blood fell down, Draco was pleased to see there was no longer any connection to him. Ragnok subtly winked at him, letting him know that no one else would know about the vow.
As suspected, Hermione's line went upwards, tracing the magic in her blood to its origins. Through her father she was indeed, the last Dagworth-Granger. Apparently, she was the descendant of a squib granddaughter of the famous potioneer. What no one but Draco and Deandra had suspected was that the line kept going back almost a thousand years through her mother's side of the family as well. The Malfoy name had long been lost as it was Celeste's adopted maiden name, but in the end, it finally reached her and in turn her adopted father, Armand Malfoy.
"Malfoy?" Hermione whispered, stretching the fingers on her right hand, almost as if wanting to touch the parchment. "Does that mean we're related?" she asked Draco and Mrs. Malfoy.
"Technically and magically, you are a child of the Malfoy line," Ragnok answered for them as he took the parchment and started examining it. "There are no blood relations however, as Celeste Malfoy was the adopted daughter of Armand Malfoy." He showed the eager witch the parchment now, pointing out the dotted lines. "You could claim the last name Malfoy in magical Britain, if you'd get Lord Malfoy's permission to do so."
Narcissa was smiling down at Hermione, clearly pleased with this turn of events. "A Dagworth-Granger and a Malfoy. Magical through both of your parents. Congratulations, Hermione."
Hermione and her mother didn't really understand what to make of this, however. "Does this mean my mother and father are squibs, rather than muggles?," the brunette witch asked no one in particular. Draco could see her mind turning already. He wondered how many books she would dig up and devour on her ancestor before they went to Hogwarts.
"Yes, it seems there have been a few squib generations between the last wizards and witches of your line and you yourself. There have also been regular muggles which have married into the family of course. Since your blood goes back all the way to the 11th century, you could be seen as pureblood and part of an ancient house, your magic is very old. However, in modern society, I think a half-blood would be the term most commonly used as not all four of your grandparents had a magical lineage," Narcissa said as she looked over Hermione's shoulder to study the parchment.
"Is that important? Her blood status?" Dr. Granger clarified. "Professor McGonagall said that all children, muggle-born or not, were welcome at Hogwarts, and that-"
Ragnok huffed, interrupting her. "What the deputy headmistress often forgets to mention when visiting muggle-born families is that the current political and social climate in wizarding Britain is very much against those who are not pure-bloods, or at least half-bloods. Miss Granger is lucky to have found out about her heritage before going to Hogwarts. Her peers might not have been as fair to her. Neither would the Ministry for Magic when she grew older and would apply for positions there."
Hermione's eyes widened in shock, and Narcissa Malfoy looked down in shame. "I too, come from such a family that deems only pure-blood to be worthy of leading the magical world. Draco's father is definitely a staunch believer. Malfoy blood has always been pure."
Draco rolled his eyes at that one. Hermione's heritage test clearly said otherwise. Armand Malfoy hadn't given a single flying fuck about the daughter he'd adopted being a muggle-born.
His mother wasn't finished as she said: "My own sister was cast out of our family, blasted off the family tree, for marrying a muggle-born."
Harry and Hermione stared at Draco in shock. They had no clue that either Draco or his mother had grown up with these beliefs. What they had seen from him and his mother so far, had been something entirely different. He'd been kind to them, even if they noticed he had the tendency to be a self-righteous snob from time to time.
"I know what my father thinks," Draco told them, lowering his head in shame. "I know how society treats people who are not Sacred Twenty-Eight. It's all thanks to You-Know-Who. They are the ones in power at the ministry. But I…" He looked at his mother, unsure if to continue. "I don't believe in that. Not anymore. Even if I sometimes let my father think that I do."
Deandra's pride filled him, and so did his mother's when she smiled at him. "I'm glad to see you have more of me and your aunt Andy in you, than you have your father," she whispered as she put a supporting hand on his shoulder. Well. He didn't expect that one. Had his mother always just followed his father blindly and agreed with him in the past timeline? Why had she never tried to change him, her one and only son?
"Because you weren't ready to change," Deandra knowingly said.
Ragnok interrupted their musing and started speaking with the Grangers, recommending Hermione to take the Dagworth-Granger in her official title but sticking to Granger for more informal situations if she so pleased. He would also have a goblin go with them to the Dagworth-Granger vaults which had been waiting for an heir to claim them for many generations. All the contents in the vault, both those of monetary and intellectual value, would belong to Hermione.
Hermione finally let all of her questions she'd been bubbling up burst out of her, making Harry and Draco chuckle as they noticed their friend almost forgot to breathe in all of her eagerness. Her mother finally calmed her down, and asked if there were any books or documents she could take home with her to look at everything Ragnok had mentioned together with her husband.
Jean Granger had to admit that realising that both she and her husband came from magical lines had turned her life upside down. Maybe her French grandmother who always claimed to see parts and snippets of the future hadn't been so crazy after all. Maybe the future that she saw… She glanced at Harry and Draco quickly, shaking her head to remove the thought from her mind.
Ragnok agreed to provide them with paperwork and said they could stop by anytime to accept the family vaults and its riches within. They could also get all the paperwork ready for Hermione to become Heir Dagworth-Granger, and Lady Dagworth-Granger upon her seventeenth birthday.
With all the excitement over, Harry was the next to step forward and check his family lineage. Ragnok had mentioned it was a mere formality before he could get access to the vaults and assets of the Potter family, as well as access to the will his parents had left. Right before he pricked his finger, Harry turned around to his new friends and joked: "I bet I will just be a boring old Potter."
No sooner had the drop of blood fallen on the paper, or it had proven the young wizard wrong. Everyone walked closer and looked in awe as the family tree showed up, several known family names thrown in the mixture.
Ragnok cleared his throat as the lines seemed to reach the top of the parchment. "As suspected, Heir Potter through your parents," he began. "A strand of Bones and Rosier in your mother's family line, but those are still intact I'm afraid so you have no claim to those. There also seems to be some Spellman blood on the late Lady Potter's side of the family. They are a Northern-American family quite gifted in runes. What is peculiar however, is… The Peverell line, through your father."
"I thought they were extinct," Narcissa whispered, unbelievingly. "The Peverell line was almost thought to be a myth. To find a living heir…"
Harry just shrugged his shoulders, not understanding the gravity of the situation. Draco should definitely get him and Hermione the Tales of Beedle the Bard which had some stories based on the Peverell brothers. Perhaps then he would realise how awesome it would be to be a direct descendant of the Peverells.
All the lines had stopped spreading, Ragnok ready to take the parchment to study it more intently, but suddenly, right next to Harry's name, a small dotted line appeared. Wait what? Did he have an adopted sibling or something?
Draco tried to peer at the parchment and his mother gasped, her right hand in front of her mouth, while her left one was grasping Draco's shoulder painfully. Draco just stood frozen, silently staring at the parchment. Merlin's beard! Was that really… No fucking way. Oh, the irony!
Hermione and Harry were just blinking, and Dr. Granger had no clue exactly what had the others so shocked. Even Ragnok seemed to be surprised.
Draco looked at the title again, written in a blood-red colour and he smirked. Things had just gotten so much more interesting. Moldy Pants was in for a treat if he ever returned.
"Lord Slytherin. By right of conquest," Dr. Granger said out loud, the only one not perplexed by the House appearing on the parchment as she didn't understand its significance. "Isn't that one of the Hogwarts houses?"
Hermione looked like she was about to faint from excitement, but finally turned to Harry, hugging him. "I wonder what your aunt would say if she finds out you're an actual Lord?" she joked, nudging Harry's side. "Congratulations, Harry."
Harry grinned at Hermione, and raised an eyebrow at his two friends. "I guess we're decided then? No way that Lord Slytherin can be sorted into Gryffindor, right?"