A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Biggest thank you to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter! And, happy thanksgiving to all my American readers :) I hope that you are having a good time with family or friends. You can find me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!
Please let me know what you thought of chapter fifty-four and be on the lookout for chapter fifty-five soon!
From what she could gather, it sounded as if during Hermione's missing years like her family had been stuck on auto-pilot, just getting by year after year, until she was returned to them. Now that Hermione was back, it was as if everything was snapping into place and Orion had lots of plans, most of them revolving around her birthday.
The morning of her birthday, Orion announced that he'd hired a painter to come and complete a magical family portrait and they should all be ready to sit in the drawing room after breakfast in the formal robes that Kreacher had set out for them. He left shortly after, to dress himself, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of Hermione's head.
"Godric, I haven't seen him this driven in years," Sirius said with a huff, pushing his hair back out of his face.
"I'm glad for it," Regulus said, pointedly. "He's making up for lost time, Sirius."
Hermione sighed. She was getting tired of their constant bickering about Sirius sending her forward. And while she hadn't completely forgiven Sirius yet, she could see how much the guilt of his decision ate away at him. However, if Regulus's constant picking of the wound was to continue, it would never allow for things to heal. And, ultimately, if they were going to be successful in their fight against Voldemort, she knew that they needed to stand strong — together.
"Could I really not be trusted to select my own robes?" Hermione asked, sliding her spoon through her oatmeal. "I think I've been doing a good enough job."
"Father, probably just wanted to make sure that we complement one another," Regulus said, shooting her a smile. "You always look lovely."
"Thank you," she said, her cheeks going a bit pink, unused to those types of gentle compliments from her brother. "Regulus, have you heard from Rabastan yet?" she asked, biting her lower lip.
She'd written to him several times — once to tell him of her NEWT results, once to tell him of her intention to begin a Charms Mastery once all the paperwork was finalized and inquiry about his own study, and once to invite him to her birthday dinner that evening. As of yet, she had not heard back from him, but she knew that Regulus saw him often at the Wizengamot.
He sighed. "Not yet," he said, sadly. "He — he probably doesn't want to overwhelm you. This is a big adjustment for everyone."
Hermione scowled and stood up from the table. "I will just go get dressed then," she said, her mind swirling, wondering why Rabastan was being this way. Yes, it was an adjustment, but she thought the best way to get used to everything was to face it head on.
Once in her room, she found the dress that Kreacher had picked out for her was beautiful, though not a color that she usually wore. The deep plum color was far more daring and mature look than something she would have selected, but she put it on anyway. Staring at herself in the mirror, she was amazed at the striking woman that she saw staring back at her. Sitting down at the vanity, she used all of Walburga's hair tips to make sure her curls were perfect, half pulled back with a black ribbon to retain some of her youth. In her ears, she wore the gold earrings that Rabastan had gifted her for her last birthday.
There, now she looked like the epitome of a Black Family witch.
When she was ready, she joined her father and brothers in the drawing room. Regulus was already seated on a small settee, while Sirius and Orion stood behind it. They each looked incredibly handsome in their own robes, each person completing the set that was their family. Hermione crossed her ankles and stared at the wizard painter, wearing a placid smile on her face.
The artist looked nervous, especially under Orion's heavy imperious stare. "Please, feel free to speak with one another normally," he said. "It's the best way to capture your personalities in the final portrait."
"Regulus and Sirius should probably start bickering with one another, then," Hermione mused, wearing a smirk.
"And maybe we should find you a book to hide behind," Sirius countered, with an equal grin on his face. "You were always in the library."
Regulus fought a laugh of his own. "I think that had less to do with the books and more to do with the company," he accused.
Hermione's cheeks went red. "Hey, I couldn't help it if Rabastan often joined me," she said. "I would have been there regardless."
"I was referring to myself," Regulus said, knocking his shoulder into hers.
Her blush only deepened. "Well, thank you for finding me a wizard who had similar ambitions as you or I," she said, after a beat. Her mind was already flooding with all the good memories of time spent with Rabastan at the Hogwarts library or their time in the Room of Requirement, imagining what their library would be like. She wondered what had become of the townhouse that her parents had gifted them. Did Rabastan live there or had he remained at Lestrange Manor?
Over the course of the morning, the conversation devolved into other topics, notably things that were happening at the Wizengamot. Minister Fudge was going to be replaced and there was no consensus about who would be best to replace him, but apparently some of the families that had been aligned with Voldemort wanted Pius Thickenesse, who Orion confidently identified as a fool willing to be Voldemort's puppet. They were doing everything that they could to select someone else as their leader. The other candidate, put forth by Dumbledore's people, was Rufus Scrimgeor, who was a bit too militant and hardline. Orion did not predict that he would last long if he was chosen.
All the while, the painter worked, the brushes moving furiously across the canvas, until time was called for the day. Hermione was amazed that he was able to do so much in not even a day, but the final product was amazing. She was excited to see it hanging up on the wall eventually. Maybe she and Rabastan should commission a portrait for their wedding, she mused.
The others had to leave to handle various matters in the afternoon, leaving Hermione to her own devices. It was nice to have a bit of breathing room for a while, but she didn't exactly know what to do with herself once she was alone. She thought about trying to fire call Rabastan, but didn't know if she would be let through and was too nervous to try. Then, she thought about trying to write a letter to Harry and Ron, but was unsure what they had been told about her. She didn't want to shock them unnecessarily, so she decided to wait for her father to talk to Dumbledore.
Ultimately, she decided to find a book in the family's library about horcruxes so she would be certain she knew everything about the dark objects when they came across one. Obviously, the Diary that had possessed Ginny in her second year must have been one and had been destroyed by a basilisk fang, but what of the others?
Kreacher interrupted her in the late afternoon with a gentle suggestion that she change (again!) for dinner. Apparently, they would be dining out as a family for her birthday, with the old house elf grumbling that nothing he could make would be good enough for Orion's princess. Hermione soothed Kreacher's hurt feelings by asking him to help her select something suitable and he enjoyed pawing through her wardrobe until he found a daring set of black robes.
She joined the others downstairs and Orion took her arm to side-along her to the apparition point in Diagon Alley. She gasped, seeing the state of it. "The Alley is so empty," she said, staring down the street, many of the shops lights off.
"Yes, people can sense the change in the wind, ever since the Dark Lord was sighted in the Ministry," Orion said to her, his voice low. "Many people remember how bad it got last time and have decided to leave."
"But we are just free to walk around without a care?" Hermione asked, arching an eyebrow at him.
"We are Blacks, Hermione," he reminded her. "We walk around freely because anyone who would dare to attack us would suffer our wrath. I will cower from no wizard."
Hermione didn't really feel like she had that kind of gravitas, but then she remembered how she'd faced down the Death Eaters in Hogsmeade and realized that maybe she did. Still, it was a bit arrogant to think that they would not face any trouble. She grasped her wand in her hand until they got into the restaurant.
She realized that it must be a very exclusive sort of restaurant and they were an exclusive sort of clientele, because they were immediately ushered into the back, where they would not be disturbed, the host practically falling over himself to take care of whatever Orion wanted. They had barely ordered drinks before they appeared on their table. Taking a sip of her cocktail, Hermione was just pleased that none of the overprotective wizards had anything to say about her drinking.
"Well, well, what a happy reunion I've stumbled upon," a dark voice came from behind Hermione, before two cold hands pressed to her shoulders. "You know, Orion, I'd heard... rumors that you were gallivanting around with this squib again, but to actually take her out in public?"
Sirius jumped up from the table, his hands flexing at his sides. Orion merely sneered at the new presence. "Cygnus. I thought that you knew better than to approach me in public," he said with a snarl.
Cygnus toyed with one of her loose curls and Hermione's own hands were itching for her wand. Surging forward, she slipped out of his grasp, wanting to be free of the odious man. "Keep your hands to yourself," she demanded once she was out of his grasp.
"I should kill you for your impertinent mouth squib," he said with a glint in his eyes that was distinctly Bellatrix. "It would be a favor to our family name."
Hermione jutted her chin in the air. "The way I hear it, I am more of a Black than you are these days," she said, staring him down. "Or have you forgotten that you were disowned, pruned with the rest of your rotten branch?"
Cygnus drew his wand with a flourish, but Orion was quicker, pulling her behind his body, pushing her into Sirius's waiting arms. "Be careful, Cygnus," he said, his voice deadly serious. "If you harm one hair on Hermione's head, I will do what my father should have done."
"Let this be a warning to you, cousin," Cygnus answered with a smirk. "I will not be the only one to realize what her sudden return means. Rumors abound. Many are curious to know how Hermione Black came to be and how she returned. Many powerful people will want to eliminate the threat."
Hermione felt her blood run cold at the insinuation. Did this mean that Voldemort had figured out who she was — that she was Hermione Granger? Or was it merely someone like Bernie Rosier or some other wizard or witch who'd seen her out and about.
"Leave now, Cygnus, or did you forget that I am an Auror?" Sirius questioned. "I could take you into the Ministry for drawing your wand like this."
Cygnus put his wand away and a brutish smile slid into place on his face. "How could I forget? Sirius Black, the Auror," he said snidely. "No need to threaten me. I will be on my way." And then, as quickly as he'd appeared, he slinked off away from the restaurant.
"I didn't know they allowed trash like him in here," Regulus said with a frown once he was gone. "Father, we should take Hermione home if it isn't safe for her here."
Her father did not look like he wanted to leave, which would be a concession that he was worried, but ultimately, he gave a sharp nod of his head. "Take her home," he ordered. "Sirius and I will clean things up here. See that Kreacher makes her something nice."
Regulus didn't leave any room for argument when he took her arm in his and apparated them home, directly from the restaurant, even though it was impolite. She wanted to argue that they shouldn't have left Sirius and Orion there to clean up her messes, but he just gave her a look. "Go wait in the library. I have a call to make and then I will have Kreacher start on dinner," he ordered. "It's your birthday, I won't hear anything else about it."
Knowing that it was a losing battle, Hermione did as she was told, stopping at the little bar cart in the side of the room to pour herself a hefty measure of firewhiskey. When she got to the library she used her wand to light a fire in the fireplace before collapsing into the settee. Sighing, she traced the slit of her dress up to her thigh, wondering why she'd gone to all the trouble of getting dressed up, just to have Cygnus ruin everything with his impromptu visit.
She heard the door to the library swing open and was pleased for a bit of company, hoping to chase away the dark thoughts. "Regulus?" she called after a moment. "What is Kreacher going to make?"
A throat cleared and she whirled around to see that it was not just Regulus in the doorway, but Rabastan as well. "Happy Birthday, Hermione," her brother said, with a frown. "I'll give you until Father and Sirius get back, but that's all." Then, he shoved Rabastan forward into the room, shutting the door behind him.