Hermione woke to see the serious face of an elf she assumed was Mipsy staring back at her. The elf beamed when her eyes opened, "Good! The new Youngest Mistress is up! The Mistress left clothes and says she is meeting you in the dining room. Mipsy be taking you."
Hermione blinked sleepily, trying to compute that while trying to convince her brain to wake up properly. It really didn't want to, there was something soothing about the fogginess. If she thought too hard on the situation she'd been catapulted into she was likely to sob and Merlin knew she did not have time for that currently, so against her better judgement, she prayed the fogginess would remain. "Thanks, Mipsy," she croaked finally, "What time is it?"
"It be half past six," the elf replied promptly, making her groan.
"Great," she murmured weakly.
"Into the shower Youngest Mistress," the elf commanded, corralling her out of bed with an efficiency her younger self would have killed for, leaving her helpless to do anything but obey.
Half an hour later, dressed in borrowed clothing, her hair forced into some semblance of submission by a determined elf, Hermione found herself being herded down an ornate staircase and into the dining room. Four sets of eyes turned to her as one making her want to bolt if only she could convince her legs to work.
"Good morning, Cousin." Frank grinned.
"Morning," she murmured, gingerly taking the seat Mipsy led her to.
"Sleep well?" he continued as if this wasn't the most awkward breakfast any of them had ever had.
"Yes, thank you," she murmured, not making a move to serve herself.
"Weve not poisoned the food, you know." he smirked, drawing an embarrassed flush to her cheeks.
In truth, it was utterly overwhelming. Food was still a rather contentious subject and she was struggling to get back to what others would consider normal after it being so scarce for so many months. With slightly shaking hands, she helped herself to toast and scrambled eggs, fighting down the instinctual nausea at the thought of it. Normally she'd wait until lunch in the hopes of managing something reasonably substantial. She was so focused on her plate that she missed the matching frowns around the table.
She took two bites before her body overcame her need to be polite and she stopped before she vomited. "Is it not to your liking?" Augusta queried lightly.
Hermione flinched at the slight hint of judgement in her voice. "Food was…not always readily available. Its…I'm still adjusting."
"Why was food not readily available?" Hector queried sharply.
She shrugged uncomfortably, not sure how to reply to that. "We were….it's rather hard to explain. I lived in a tent for a while. Being seen in public wasn't exactly safe."
"How long is a while?" Frank asked shrewdly.
"Months," she murmured. "Foraging is rather difficult in winter." She kept her eyes down, refusing to witness the undoubtedly pitying looks on their faces.
"Well then," Augusta breathed regaining her composure, "At least have tea. Were you on nutrient potions?"
"Before bed," Hermione murmured, "My stomach couldn't handle them in the morning."
"Then we'll arrange that for this evening," she replied briskly.
Hermione had never thought she'd be glad to be back in the Department of Mysteries but being under the Longbottoms' scrutiny, constantly second-guessing what she could and should say was exhausting and she was grateful for the reprieve, even if she was returning to the source of one of her most frequent nightmares.
"Have you been before?" Hector asked as he caught her arm, threading it through his.
"Once," Hermione replied, her voice clipped.
"Not a good memory," he surmised.
She gave a bark of startled, mirthless laughter, "Not really. The entire place is creepy."
"I resent that," Saul commented lightly, appearing in front of them, making them jump.
Her eyebrows rose almost against her will, "You keep brains in a tank. If you're not aiming for creepy, you should probably do something about those."
He grinned, "So you have been here. Anything else?"
"I imagine the Time Room could have been beautiful but seeing a man's head caught, oscillating between a baby and an old man is rather disconcerting."
"Someone broke my bell jar?" Saul demanded, all at once losing his playful demeanour and instead sounding horrified.
Hermione grimaced, attempting to look apologetic. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news but an awful lot more than that got broken."
"Such as?" he bit out.
"Ah ... .All the time turners? And the brain tank. Oh…and the prophecies."
He blinked at her remaining utterly still for several beats before muttering an ominous, "Time had better be as flexible as I think it is or I am going to Avada some people!"
"Might I suggest starting with Antonin Dolohov, Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy?" she quipped. "I'll even help."
He snorted, "If they are responsible for destroying my department, I just might. Ah! Alastor. Good, we're all here, let's go."
He led them into a large office, murmuring something that released a palpable blast of magic. "There now, complete privacy." he turned to Hermione, "Do begin explaining any time now."
"How much do you want to know?" she checked, " I thought we were going to change something small?"
"Oh! Oh that's right, I sent an owl to your Severus Snape, he'll be here within the next couple of hours. So for now I think we can begin with the basics."
"Such as?" she frowned.
"You were born in 1979, yes?"
"Yes."
"Full name?"
"Hermone Jean Granger, which you know, you've seen the parchment!"
He just hummed ignoring her outburst as he documented everything she was saying. "You attend Hogwarts in…."
"1991," she sighed, "I was sorted into Gryffindor…"
"OWL and NEWT scores?"
She faltered, "I never sat my NEWT's"
"Why?"
"Government wanted me dead, remember?"
"Ah," he nodded, "OWLs then."
"Nine outstandings and one Exceeds Expectations."
"Seriously?" Frank checked
"Yes."
"What didn't you take?" Saul asked curiously.
"Divination. It's utter nonsense."
He snorted, "I see, and your Exceeds?"
"Bloody Defence." she muttered.
"Ah. We might need to do something about that then."
She arched an unimpressed eyebrow, "I survived a fucking war, what makes you think I haven't?"
"Fair point. We'll arrange NEWT testing then. Now, any preference of department?"
"Pardon?"
"You need a job, one assumes,"
She stared stupidly back at him, "And you're going to let me pick whatever I like?"
"Call it an apology for your life being upended," he waved his hand airily, "Now personally I'd recommend here, obviously. Less interference, more interesting magics. Of course, you could join your uncle and cousin in the Aurory."
"No thank you." she cut in quickly.
"No I didn't think so," he replied, looking so amused Hermione glowered at him. It only served to amuse him further. "You've experience with a time turner?"
"Yes." she sighed, "In third year so I could take all the subjects."
He visibly forced down a laugh at that, his voice wavering for a beat as he replied, "I see. So. Do you want to learn exactly why I'm less concerned with you imploding the timeline than I am about this war?"
Despite herself, she was intrigued. "Perhaps."
"Splendid. You can start next week. We'll get you fitted for a wand and robes. Now your story. Any thoughts?"
"She could be Algies daughter." Hector voiced hesitantly.
"Why?" Hermione demanded.
"Because you'll need a name and conveniently, our one is the one your mother should have had all along. However, Alastor informs me you look rather like his sister, so just in case, we should maintain the connection. What about Heather?"
Alastor blanched. "Pardon?"
"I thought…I thought Great-Aunt Heather died young?" Hermione voiced hesitantly.
"She did, which would explain why you're only turning up now." Saul agreed. "Maintains the links to both families."
"And, as Heads of House, we can manipulate an adoption ritual." Hector finished shrewdly. "Algie will need to be told."
"So call him," Saul replied bluntly, "Alastor?"
Alastor sighed heavily. "Very well. Where are we saying the lass was?"
"Oh, I think originally friends near Edinburgh, no?" Saul voiced, "Heather's best friend was a Fawley, wasn't she? She moved back down south following Heather's death, explains the English accent and has the wonderful benefit of being a completely true explanation of Cora's movements. It helps of course that we know Cora Fawley died of dragon pox recently with no children, having never married and having led a reasonably reclusive life." he smirked at Hermione's startled look, "I did some brief digging into both families just in case."
"And why did Heather not entrust the girl to me or Algernon?" Alastor demanded.
"Because your job was dangerous. You saw the girl obviously but were not in a position to keep her. As for Algernon," he sighed, "I don't know. I didn't say it was perfect."
"A falling out before Heather realised the pregnancy. They could both be stubborn. If they'd truly fallen out my brother would have set a ward banning all mail. Heather…became ill rather quickly if memory serves."
"Aye she did," Alastor agreed softly. "One day she was dine, the next…well. She was dead within the week. Unexpected blood curse."
Saul nodded, with a sympathetic smile. "And as her brother, you followed her last wishes and didn't breathe a word of the girl to her father. After all, she was settled. She had a reasonably happy childhood, " he glanced at Hermione, checking. She nodded, her throat closing at the thought of her parents. Perhaps in this life, they wouldn't be made to forget her. It was cold comfort as she realised that their daughter this time round wouldn't be her. Some other Hermione would get to keep them. She realised her face must have shown something when she felt Frank slip his hand into hers, squeezing it.
"Well then, send word to Algie." Augusta sighed, looking exhausted. "We'll need to move quickly, the girl has no vault, no paper trail. Where did she go to school?"
"There's a small school based near Oxford," Saul mused, "It's not particularly well known but I can speak to someone there."
"Why there and not Hogwarts?" Alice asked.
"Because they knew about Frank." Saul nodded, "Again fulfilling a last wish of her mother, keeping her away."
"Do you think any mother would be so cruel?"
"Well…I imagine it depends on what was said in that argument, perhaps she thought it was best. Alas, will never know."
Alice rolled his eyes at his dramatics. "Right."
"In my experience, people tend to take things at face value," Saul offered. "She'll be legitimised with your endorsement. She is far more comfortable around Alastor than you, which will add weight to the story, as will her getting to know Algernon from scratch. She will have a respectable job, and by the end of the week, she will have a paper trail in the form of school results, a birth certificate etcetera. It's hardly like the truth is people's first thought."
"And in terms of stopping this war?" Alastor voiced uncomfortably.
"We will need to speak to Dumbledore," he pinned Hermione with a look. "He's running the resistance. I've been….unwilling to commit my services to him given what I know of the man, however I will monitor his reactions. I'll be watching exceptionally closely."
"He's good at convincing people he's right," she murmured.
"Oh I know," Saul agreed, "But you know better, no?"
She sighed heavily, "Fine. I don't like it but fine."
"Splendid. Now, shall we acquire Algernon before young Mr Snape appears?"
Hector huffed as he got to his feet, "Can I borrow a floo? It'll be quicker than owls."
"This way," Saul nodded, leading him from the room.
"How are you lass?" Alastor queried into the silence.
"Tired," she murmured. "Lost."
He sighed heavily as even Augusta's countenance softened. "I can't imagine that it's easy to think of not going back."
She hummed, not quite sure what to say to that. In truth, now her brain was working again, she just felt numb. At some point, she was sure it would hit her, all the things she'd lost. But currently, all she wondered was whether it mattered in the face of what they'd lost already, a tiny insidious voice whispering that she could fix it. She could fix it all. Fred would live, James, Lily, Remus, Sirius, all of them could live. And Harry…Harry could have the life he should have had all along rather than the life that had turned him into the broken shell of a man he was in the time she'd left. They were all broken shells really. All too jaded, too haunted by the things they'd seen. The things they'd done. She wasn't sure there was any of her generation who had not been forced to take a life. It was a monstrous thing, and somewhere, deep down she knew that. She knew that they all had a list of names. Names that in some macabre exercise of self-torture, they had all ensured they knew. Hunting down those they didn't recognise as the Ministry began to try and find some semblance of order. Ironically, Harry was the one who had got off the lightest. His list containing only one name. Arguably the most important, but not as devastating as some of their peers. She had eight. Ron seven. Neville, bless him, twelve. And each of their faces haunted all of them, just as their own choices haunted everyone else at the last battle. None of them slept without screaming now. It had just become an accepted fact.
"I think it might be less hard than living with the aftermath of what we were forced to do," she mumbled finally, the words falling from her mouth before she could stop them.
"And what was that lass?" he murmured.
"Antonin Dolohov, Armando Selwyn, John Gibbons, Derrek Jameson, Alecto Carrow, Simon Fawley, Amanada Smythe, Jonas Yaxley," she replied softly.
It took Alastor a moment, only realising what she meant when Augusta gasped, clearly much quicker on the uptake. "You learned their names," Augusta murmured.
"We all did." she agreed. "So we'd never forget. It seemed….we needed to never forget. To ensure it never happened again."
"Mother of merlin, lass," Alasor whispered.
"What are we missing?" Frank asked hesitantly
Hermione's eyes met his and he shivered, "When you turn children into soldiers, don't be surprised when they learn to be ruthless."
"You killed them?" Alice asked, her voice even despite her shaking hands.
"It was war," Hermione murmured softly. "You can't stun in a war. We learned that in fifth year. If you're aiming, you're aiming to incapacitate beyond immediate fixing or you're shooting to kill."
"Fifth Year?" Augusta asked sounding strangled.
Hermione hummed, "A group of teenagers, none of us of age, broke into the Department of Mysteries on an incredibly poorly thought-out rescue mission. I was sixteen, and Merlin help me the eldest. The youngest was fourteen. Six of us. The Death Eaters were not aiming to stun."
"Why on earth…"
"Did we do it?" Hermione finished, "The unfortunate side effect of withholding pertinent information in the misguided hope of protection, is that children with the fate of the world on their shoulders feel like they have nowhere to go. That the fate of everyone is held in their hands. When adults prove time and time again that they are just waiting on children to fix it, that there will be no support, no backup, children tend to take matters into their own hands. After all, what other choice do they have? It's what they've been taught to expect. And so we did exactly what we had been taught to do, and we took it upon ourselves to fix things. And as a result, we got the person we were trying to save murdered. Some of us were left with physical scars from that night, but the ones brushed under the carpet were the mental ones. We all had those."
There was absolute silence broken only when Saul and Hector returned with Algernon. They stopped dead in the doorway, taking in Hermione and Alastor's blank faces, the familial resemblance startlingly evident for the first time, Frank's white-knuckled grip on her hand, and most startlingly of all, Augusta and Alice's tears.
"Well." Saul breathed, looking around the room, "It appears we missed something. No matter. Miss Granger this is Algernon Longbottom."
Hermione attempted a smile, ending with more of a grimace. "I'm sure as soon as I understand what's going on it'll be a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger." he offered amiably, his eyes drifting around the room. "What ah…exactly is going on?"
"Sit down, Algie," Hector sighed, eyeing his wife with concern. "We'll explain in a moment."
With a bemused but genial smile, Algernon did as he was told. "Well…." he prompted.
Hector sighed, gesturing to Hermione, "Hermione is Lenny's granddaughter.
"Lenny's…." he trailed off.
"From 1998."
Algernon gave a bark of laughter, "Funny," he chortled, faltering when he realised no one else was laughing.
"Turns out his wife is Alastors sister. Their girl's due soon." Hector tipped his head towards Hermione, "One of the young Black's, Sirius wasn't it?" Saul nodded, "Well. He harnessed ritual and marital magic for a matching ritual and got the words confused."
"She's matched to a Black?"
"No, she's matched to one of his friends."
"Right." Algernon wheezed faintly, looking dumbfounded. "And you, ah, are telling me this because…."
"We cannot send her back," Saul cut in bluntly, "So we need to legitimise her. Assuming everything goes well in the next few weeks she might be able to stop this war before it's really begun."
"Good Godric."
"We plan to say that you had a…liaison with Heather Moody that ended in an argument. Heather hid the child with friends and she attended St Ursulas in Oxford. Now she's here she intends to get to know her family."
"Well…." he trailed off, his eyes back on Hermione, whispering. "Lenny's granddaughter. Mother of magic."
"Well?" Hector prompted.
"Well…I ah…yes of course I ah…" he gave a hysterical little giggle that sounded absurd coming from the man. "It's all rather a lot to take in."
"I imagine it is," Saul replied soothingly. "But we really do need to get the ritual done today. Alongside a vow."
"Right." he cleared his throat, flushing. "I ah…right. Of course."
"Do you all know the ritual you need?"
"Aye," Alastor sighed.
"I do." Hector sighed, "Algie?"
"Yes," he agreed.
"Hermione?"
She startled at being addressed, "I hope you're not asking if I understand obscure pureblood rituals because I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint."
Saul snorted, "I think I might like you," he grinned. "However, no. I was simply asking if you were ready."
"Sure, why not." she sighed, "It's quite frankly not the strangest thing that's happened this week."
"Well with that ringing endorsement," Saul grinned, "Stand up."
He corralled them into a line, "What do you need?"
"A bowl." Alastor replied, "And the lineage potion."
Saul hummed, looking at Algernon, "Same as Alastor," he murmured.
"Fabulous." Saul clapped his hands.
"And privacy." Algernon finished pointedly.
Saul frowned "But…"
"Family secrets. Out."
Saul sighed exaggeratedly. "Very well. Call me back in when you're done."
"Can we…."
"No." Alastor barked, turning to glare at Frank "out."
Hermione blinked. "Why…"
"Do we not want anyone in the room?" Alastor asked with a smirk. "Well lass, we need to draw some runes on you and we figured you wouldn't want a giant audience to you standing in your underwear."
Hermione flushed looking at him in horror, "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Alastor retorted, "Now. Everybody out!"
With a barely controlled laugh Alice hauled Frank to his feet, "Come on then, we're not the Blacks, surely we don't need to be seeing your cousin in her pants."
Augusta gave a choked snort as she followed them out.
Twenty minutes later, Hermione sat back down in her seat, trying to control the jittery feeling of too much magic. "It'll settle down soon," Algie squeezed her shoulder.
"How soon?" she murmured, her legs jumping rhythmically.
"About an hour or two," he grimaced in sympathy.
"Wonderful." she muttered.
"Well then Miss Longbottom." Saul grinned, "How are we dealing with your pet Death Eater?"
Alastor laughed when Hermione groaned.
"No matter," he smiled magnanimously, "You have to think while we deal with those vows."