The Forgotten Sister
Hermione Granger never suspected her life was anything but ordinary — well, as ordinary as it could be for a Muggle-born witch at Hogwarts. She had loving parents, albeit non-magical, and friends she cherished deeply. But everything changed one autumn morning when she found a letter slipped beneath her pillow in Gryffindor Tower.
The parchment was thick and scented with lavender, the ink swirling in elegant script:
You are not who you think you are.
Beneath that cryptic message was an unfamiliar seal: a coiling serpent around a blooming flower. For some reason, the image sent chills down her spine.
Hermione knew she shouldn't let it get to her, but her curiosity — that familiar itch for knowledge — got the better of her. Over the next few weeks, she searched through books and family archives in the Hogwarts library, even sneaking into the Restricted Section at night. Yet, she found nothing about the seal or the letter's sender.
Then one night, while she was reading in front of the fireplace, she overheard a conversation between Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass in the Slytherin common room through a hidden Floo network connection.
"I wonder if she knows yet," Pansy whispered.
Daphne's voice was harder to hear, but Hermione caught the tail end: "It's only a matter of time before she learns... Hermione is a Greengrass."
The book slipped from Hermione's hands, landing with a soft thud on the common room floor.
Hermione couldn't sleep that night. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of what she'd overheard. Could it be possible that she was... related to the pure-blood Greengrass family? No — that was absurd! She was Hermione Granger, the daughter of two Muggle dentists. But the seed of doubt had been planted.
The next morning, she cornered Daphne Greengrass in the library. Daphne, cool and unbothered as always, raised a single eyebrow when she saw Hermione storm toward her.
"We need to talk," Hermione hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was listening.
Daphne tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "Ah. You heard, didn't you?"
"So it's true?" Hermione demanded, her heart pounding. "What do you mean I'm... a Greengrass?"
Daphne sighed, closing the book she'd been reading. "It's not that simple, Granger. Or should I say... Hermione Greengrass."
For a moment, Hermione stood frozen. Those words felt foreign, unnatural.
"How—how is that even possible? My parents—"
"They're not your biological parents," Daphne interrupted softly. "You were born Hermione Greengrass, but to protect you, Mother and Father had to hide you. You were adopted by the Grangers when you were a baby. You were placed with Muggles to keep you safe... from our family's enemies."
Hermione's legs wobbled, and she sank into the chair opposite Daphne. "Why now? Why tell me now?"
"Because Father thinks it's time you knew the truth. And..." Daphne hesitated. "Astoria and I always knew. But we thought you were better off not knowing."
Over the next few weeks, Hermione grappled with the revelation. Daphne and Astoria gave her what little information they could, but the full story of her past was tangled in secrecy.
She discovered that the Greengrass family was one of the oldest pure-blood lines, known for its neutrality in the war between light and dark wizards. But with neutrality came many enemies. Years ago, a dark faction had tried to force the family into allegiance. To protect their newborn daughter — Hermione — her parents made the unthinkable decision: they placed her in the care of a Muggle family, erasing all records of her birth.
Hermione felt torn between two worlds. Her logical mind struggled to accept the idea that she was not who she thought she was. But part of her — a small, hidden part — felt like some pieces of her life were finally clicking into place.
Still, she couldn't help but feel angry. Why had they abandoned her? Why hadn't they tried to find her sooner? She confronted Daphne one evening near the Black Lake.
"You knew all this time," Hermione said, her voice trembling. "And you let me believe I was a Muggle-born."
Daphne's calm mask finally cracked. "Do you think it was easy for me? Watching my sister sit at another House's table? Knowing she would never know who she truly was?"
Hermione crossed her arms. "And what now? Am I supposed to just... become a Greengrass? Forget my entire life?"
"No," Daphne whispered. "But you're not just Hermione Granger anymore. You're one of us."
The hardest part wasn't discovering she was a Greengrass. It was telling Harry and Ron.
When she finally sat them down in the Gryffindor common room, they both stared at her as if she'd grown a second head.
"You're joking," Ron said flatly.
"I wish I was," Hermione muttered, wringing her hands. "But it's the truth. I was adopted. My real parents are part of the Greengrass family."
Harry gave her a reassuring smile, though it was tinged with confusion. "You're still you, Hermione. No matter what."
But Ron looked uneasy. "You're... one of them?"
"Ron!" Harry snapped, elbowing him.
"I didn't mean it like that!" Ron said quickly. "It's just... Greengrass? They're pure-bloods! Slytherins! I mean, doesn't this change things?"
"No, it doesn't," Hermione said firmly. "I'm still me. But I have to figure out what this means."
In the months that followed, Hermione slowly began to embrace her new identity. Daphne and Astoria helped her learn about the family traditions she'd missed, though it was awkward at first. The Greengrass sisters were nothing like the people she had imagined. They weren't the haughty pure-blood elitists she'd always assumed Slytherins to be. Instead, they were calm, poised, and fiercely protective of their own — a trait Hermione found she shared.
For the first time in her life, Hermione felt like she belonged to two worlds. She was still Hermione Granger, the brilliant Muggle-born witch who fought against Voldemort. But she was also Hermione Greengrass, the hidden daughter of an ancient wizarding family.
And though it was strange and complicated, she knew one thing for certain: she would never let her bloodline define her. She was both — and that made her stronger than ever.
As she stood by the Black Lake one evening, watching the stars reflect on the water's surface, she felt Daphne step beside her.
"You'll always have a place with us, you know," Daphne said quietly.
Hermione smiled. "I know. But I think I'll always have a place with both of my families."
And with that, Hermione finally felt at peace with who she was — not just a Granger, not just a Greengrass, but truly herself.
The winter holidays arrived, and for the first time, Hermione received two letters inviting her home — one from her adoptive parents, the Grangers, and another from the Greengrass. She agonized over the decision, knowing that whichever she chose would feel like a betrayal to the other family. But in the end, Daphne chose for her.
"You don't need to rush into this," Daphne told her one night in the common room. "Spend Christmas with the Grangers. You've had them your whole life, and they deserve this time with you. We'll have plenty of holidays to catch up on."
Hermione was surprised at Daphne's kindness. She was beginning to realize that the cold, aloof exterior her new sister wore was simply armor, much like her own strict adherence to rules and knowledge.
So, Hermione spent Christmas with the Grangers, but the pull of her newfound family remained ever-present.
The return to Hogwarts after the break was more complicated than Hermione had expected. Rumors had spread — somehow, students had discovered her true identity. The news of Hermione Granger being a Greengrass sister spread like wildfire.
"Granger's not a Muggle-born after all?" a Hufflepuff asked loudly at breakfast.
"Guess all that hard work was just pure-blood talent," a Slytherin boy sneered.
Hermione bristled, but before she could respond, Daphne appeared beside her, casting a sharp glare at the gossipers. "Say one more thing," Daphne said smoothly, "and you'll regret it."
The stunned silence that followed made Hermione feel something unexpected: relief. For the first time, someone was standing up for her — not just as a friend, but as family.
Astoria, younger and more cheerful than Daphne, looped her arm through Hermione's. "You'll get used to it," she said with a grin. "Greengrass girls are always talked about. It comes with the territory."
And just like that, Hermione found herself swept into the rhythm of having sisters.
As the months passed, Hermione found herself reevaluating her views on Slytherins. Spending time with Daphne and Astoria had opened her eyes to a different side of their House. Not every Slytherin was a scheming villain, nor did all pure-bloods share the same prejudices.
Daphne, with her cool composure, gave Hermione insights into the pressures of being from an ancient family. Astoria, with her warmth and humor, showed her how to find joy in small moments.
For the first time, Hermione understood that people weren't just divided into categories of good and bad, light and dark. There was complexity everywhere — even within herself.
She began visiting the Slytherin common room on occasion, drawing curious stares from students in green and silver robes. Although she remained loyal to Gryffindor, the boundaries between the two Houses seemed less rigid. Even Draco Malfoy, after a few awkward encounters, treated her with reluctant respect.
"Funny how things change," Draco muttered one day when they crossed paths in the library. "You being one of us now."
"I'm still me," Hermione said with a raised brow. "And I'm not 'one of you,' Malfoy."
He smirked but didn't argue.
As N.E.W.T. exams loomed closer, Hermione buried herself in her studies, but this time she didn't do it alone. Daphne and Astoria joined her, providing odd but comforting support. Even Ron and Harry, after their initial discomfort, came to accept Hermione's new relationship with her sisters.
"Guess you're like the bridge between Gryffindor and Slytherin now," Harry joked one afternoon.
"Yeah," Ron added with a grin. "You're practically diplomatic royalty."
Hermione rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but smile. It felt strange, but good, to have the people she cared about from both sides of the divide finally coming together.
But not everything was smooth sailing. Tensions simmered beneath the surface — especially with the upcoming Wizengamot vote on new laws about blood status. Old prejudices still lingered, and the Greengrass family, though neutral, was expected to take a side.
"You might have to make a choice, Hermione," Daphne warned one evening. "And it won't be an easy one."
The day of the Wizengamot vote arrived, and the castle buzzed with anticipation. The new laws would determine whether blood status would still carry weight in wizarding society — a step toward equality that many, including Hermione, had fought for.
But the Greengrass family had its reputation to protect. Supporting the change would align them with progressives, but it would also alienate powerful pure-blood families.
When the Greengrasses invited Hermione to attend the vote, she faced a difficult decision. Should she align with her birth family's cautious neutrality? Or should she publicly support the progressive side, knowing it might cause a rift with Daphne and Astoria?
In the end, Hermione knew there was only one choice she could make.
She stood in the Wizengamot chamber, her heart pounding as her name was called to speak.
"My name is Hermione Granger," she said, her voice steady. "I was born Hermione Greengrass. But blood doesn't define me — nor should it define anyone else."
The room erupted in murmurs, but Hermione pressed on. "We must move forward as a society, beyond these outdated ideas of blood purity. Because only then can we build a future where every witch and wizard, regardless of their heritage, has the same opportunities."
When she finished, Daphne caught her eye from the audience. For a moment, Hermione feared she'd see disappointment — but instead, Daphne gave her a small, approving nod.
In the weeks that followed, Hermione's speech made headlines. Some praised her for her courage, while others criticized her for abandoning pure-blood traditions. But for Hermione, the outcome didn't matter as much as knowing she'd stayed true to herself.
Her relationship with Daphne and Astoria remained intact, though it shifted into something more respectful and equal.
"You'll always be part of this family," Daphne told her one evening, "no matter what choices you make."
Hermione smiled. "And you'll always be my sisters."
As the school year drew to a close, Hermione stood by the Black Lake with her friends — Harry, Ron, Daphne, and Astoria. For the first time, she felt at peace with both sides of her life.
She wasn't just a Gryffindor or a Slytherin. She wasn't just a Granger or a Greengrass.
She was Hermione. And that was more than enough.