After the dust from the Wizengamot vote settled, life at Hogwarts returned to a semblance of normalcy, but something had changed within Hermione. She was no longer the same girl who had felt like she had to prove herself at every step. Knowing her origins gave her a new sense of belonging — not just to her newfound family, but to herself.
However, with that change came new challenges. Balancing her friendships with Harry and Ron, while deepening her bond with Daphne and Astoria, wasn't easy. Gryffindors and Slytherins were notoriously stubborn, and tensions between the two Houses remained, despite Hermione's efforts to bridge the gap.
"Do you have to spend every weekend in the Slytherin common room?" Ron grumbled one afternoon in the Gryffindor common room.
"It's just tea, Ron," Hermione replied, exasperated.
"She's my sister," Daphne had said on one of those weekends, "but you're still... loyal to them, aren't you?" Hermione hadn't known how to respond then, and she wasn't sure now.
One chilly February evening, Daphne approached Hermione with an unusual request.
"There's going to be a gathering over the Easter holidays," Daphne said, her tone careful. "A family event. The other pure-blood families will be there."
Hermione raised a brow. "And you want me to go?"
Daphne nodded, though she looked uncomfortable. "It would mean a lot to Father. It would show that... we're united. But I won't force you."
The idea of mingling with the old pure-blood families made Hermione uneasy. Many of them had supported Voldemort during the war, and she had fought against everything they stood for. Yet, she knew this event wasn't just about family politics. It was an olive branch from the Greengrasses — a way of showing the other families that she was one of them now.
After a long, silent pause, Hermione nodded. "I'll go."
The Greengrass estate was grand and elegant, with sprawling gardens and enchanted fountains. As Hermione stepped through the massive iron gates with Daphne and Astoria by her side, she felt out of place among the pristine, robed guests who turned to watch her arrival.
"Just stay close to us," Astoria whispered, sensing her discomfort.
The gathering was tense. Some of the older pure-blood families eyed Hermione with disdain, their whispers thinly veiled.
"So that's the Muggle-born, is it?" one witch muttered to her companion. "I suppose she thinks she belongs here now."
Hermione's hands clenched, but before she could respond, Daphne shot the woman a sharp look. "Careful," Daphne warned, her voice smooth but dangerous. "She's family."
Hermione felt a warmth in her chest at those words. It didn't erase the discomfort, but it made her feel less alone.
Throughout the evening, she endured the stares and whispers, reminding herself why she was there. She wasn't attending for approval. She was attending because she was done running from who she was — Hermione Granger and Hermione Greengrass.
Later that night, Hermione stood on the balcony overlooking the Greengrass gardens, letting the cool breeze calm her nerves. She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Astoria approaching, her expression soft.
"You did well tonight," Astoria said, leaning on the stone railing beside her. "It wasn't easy, but you handled it."
"I didn't think it would be this hard," Hermione admitted, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. "They look at me like I don't belong."
"They'll come around," Astoria assured her. "And if they don't, that's their problem, not yours. You've earned your place."
For the first time that evening, Hermione smiled. Maybe Astoria was right.
The end of the school year was fast approaching, and the looming question of what came next weighed heavily on Hermione's mind. She had always imagined herself going straight into the Ministry to reform magical law, but now she had another life to consider.
"Why not take a break before diving into work?" Daphne suggested one evening. "You've spent your entire life chasing goals. You deserve some time to figure out what you want."
It was strange advice, coming from someone as disciplined as Daphne, but it struck a chord with Hermione. Maybe it was time to stop and breathe.
Harry and Ron were also planning their futures. Ron wanted to work at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes with George, while Harry was considering a career as an Auror. They supported Hermione no matter what, but she knew that her path might diverge from theirs.
On the final day of school, Hermione stood at the edge of the Black Lake with Daphne, Astoria, 8Harry, and Ron by her side. It felt surreal to say goodbye to the place where she had grown so much — not just as a student, but as a person.
"I never thought I'd say this," Ron said with a grin, "but I'm going to miss seeing you hanging around with the Slytherins."
Hermione laughed, nudging him playfully. "And I'll miss dragging you to the library every day."
Daphne and Astoria stood a little apart, giving Hermione and her friends a moment to say their goodbyes. But when the time came, Daphne approached and gave Hermione a small, genuine smile.
"Whatever you do next, we'll be here," Daphne said softly. "You're one of us now, and you always will be."
Astoria wrapped Hermione in a quick, affectionate hug. "And if you need a break from your Gryffindor friends, you know where to find us."
Hermione smiled, feeling a tug in her heart. Somehow, she knew that no matter where life took her, she would always have both families by her side.
As the train pulled away from Hogsmeade Station, carrying them toward their futures, Hermione felt something she hadn't felt in a long time: peace.
She wasn't just a Granger, or a Greengrass, or a Gryffindor, or anything else that others tried to label her. She was simply Hermione — and that was more than enough.
And as the world stretched out before her, she knew she could face whatever came next — not as one person divided between two worlds, but as one whole, stronger than ever.
Months passed after the end of Hogwarts, and life began to shift in unexpected ways for Hermione. She spent the summer bouncing between the Granger house and the Greengrass estate, learning how to navigate both worlds. At the Granger household, she was still their little girl, chatting about mundane things like groceries and books. But at the Greengrass manor, she was immersed in wizarding traditions and pure-blood customs — ones she never imagined being a part of.
By the end of the summer, she knew it was time to take the next step toward her future. Though she was tempted to dive straight into work at the Ministry, Daphne's words lingered in her mind: You deserve some time to figure out what you want.
It was Astoria who gave her an idea one afternoon over tea.
"Have you ever thought about traveling?" Astoria asked, stirring her chamomile with a lazy flick of her wand. "See the world before you lock yourself in an office with parchment and quills for the next thirty years?"
Hermione hadn't considered it — not seriously, at least. But now that the idea was out there, it sounded... exciting. Liberating, even. She had spent so much of her life following plans and schedules. Maybe it was time to do something unexpected.
In September, Hermione made her decision: she would travel. She planned to visit magical and Muggle places alike, exploring how different cultures approached magic. It was the perfect way to combine her two worlds — her Muggle upbringing and her wizarding heritage.
The Grangers were supportive, though a little worried. "Just be careful, sweetheart," her mother had said. "Don't go wandering into dangerous places."
The Greengrasses, on the other hand, was surprisingly enthusiastic. "You'll love Paris," Daphne said. "There's a little wizarding café near the Seine where they serve the best enchanted pastries."
"Don't miss the enchanted forests in Romania!" Astoria added. "Oh, and the wizard markets in Istanbul are supposed to be incredible."
Even Harry and Ron were on board, though they were sad to see her leave. "Write us, yeah?" Harry said, clapping her on the back as they said their goodbyes.
Ron gave her a lopsided grin. "And make sure you come back soon. You know I can't survive without someone keeping me in check."
Hermione laughed. "I'll be back before you know it."
Hermione's travels were everything she had hoped for. In Paris, she wandered through magical libraries hidden in plain sight. In Rome, she learned ancient spells preserved in murals on crumbling walls. And in Egypt, she spent hours studying artifacts from wizard tombs, thrilled by the blend of history and magic.
But the most unexpected discovery came in Romania. One evening, while visiting a dragon reserve near the Carpathian Mountains, Hermione bumped into someone familiar.
"Granger?"
She turned and saw a tall figure with a shock of platinum blond hair — Draco Malfoy.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, more surprised than annoyed.
"I could ask you the same thing," Malfoy replied, smirking. "But if you must know, I'm here for work. Helping with magical creature regulations."
To her surprise, Draco wasn't the arrogant boy she remembered from school. He seemed... different. Lighter, somehow. They ended up talking for hours, sharing stories about their post-Hogwarts lives. For the first time, Hermione saw him as more than just the boy who had taunted her in school.
After that encounter, Hermione and Draco crossed paths more often. They ran into each other in wizarding hubs across Europe, from the enchanted markets of Istanbul to the magical libraries in Berlin. Each time, they talked a little more, the tension between them slowly thawing.
One evening, while sitting in a café in Vienna, Draco admitted something surprising. "You know, I never thought I'd say this, but... I respect you, Granger. I always did, in a way. I just didn't know how to show it."
Hermione stared at him, stunned. It was the closest thing to an apology she had ever heard from him. And oddly enough, it felt genuine.
"You weren't exactly easy to deal with either," she said with a teasing smile.
Draco chuckled. "Fair enough."
Though they were far from being friends, Hermione found herself appreciating the strange, unexpected connection they had formed. If someone had told her a few years ago that she'd be sharing drinks with Draco Malfoy in a Viennese café, she would have laughed in disbelief.
In the middle of her travels, Hermione received an owl from Daphne. The letter was brief, written in Daphne's elegant handwriting:
Father's health is failing. We need you home.
Hermione's heart clenched as she read the words. Though she had only known her biological father for a short time, the thought of losing him felt heavier than she expected. Without hesitation, she packed her things and booked a Portkey back to England.
When she arrived at the Greengrass estate, Daphne and Astoria were waiting for her.
"Thank you for coming," Daphne whispered, her usual stoic demeanor cracking just slightly.
Hermione nodded, pulling her sisters into a hug. "I'm here."
The following days were somber. Their father, Cassius Greengrass, was confined to bed, his once-imposing figure now frail. Hermione spent hours at his side, talking with him and listening to his stories.
"I'm proud of you, Hermione," he said one evening, his voice weak but sincere. "You've lived a life that's true to yourself. That's all a parent can ask for."
Hermione's throat tightened. She wasn't sure what she had expected from this reunion, but hearing those words meant more to her than she could express.
Cassius Greengrass passed away peacefully that night, surrounded by his daughters.
In the weeks following their father's death, Hermione remained at the Greengrass estate, helping Daphne and Astoria manage the family affairs. It was strange — balancing the responsibilities of being a Greengrass with the life she had built as Hermione Granger — but it felt right.
The sisters grew closer in their grief, finding strength in each other. They shared memories, laughed, and cried, slowly rebuilding their lives without their father.
One afternoon, as they walked through the garden together, Daphne turned to Hermione. "You know, you could stay," she said softly. "This is your home too."
Hermione smiled, touched by the offer. "I know. But I think... my place is out there. Building something new."
Daphne nodded, understanding without argument.
When Hermione left the Greengrass estate, she felt lighter, as if a weight she hadn't known she was carrying had lifted. She knew she would always be a part of both her families — the Grangers and the Greengrasses — but her path was her own to walk.
With her travel bag slung over her shoulder and the future wide open before her, Hermione smiled.
She wasn't defined by her bloodline or her House. She wasn't limited by expectations or labels.
She was simply Hermione — and that was more than enough.
And as she set off on the next chapter of her journey, she knew that wherever life took her, she would always carry both parts of herself, perfectly whole.
After several months abroad, Hermione decided it was time to return to London. She missed her friends and longed to reconnect with the familiar parts of her life. More importantly, she felt ready to take the next step in her career.
Upon her return, Harry and Ron greeted her warmly at Grimmauld Place, where Harry had made a home.
"You look different," Ron said with a grin. "Must be all that fancy Greengrass influence."
"Or maybe she's just finally relaxed," Harry added with a smirk.
Hermione laughed, realizing they were right. The time away had changed her in ways she hadn't fully understood until now.
That evening, as the three of them sat together, the conversation turned toward the future.
"I've decided to apply for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Hermione said, looking at her friends. "It's where I can make the most difference."
Harry gave her an encouraging nod. "That sounds perfect for you."
"About time someone competent went in there," Ron added, earning a playful swat from Hermione.
But even as she basked in the warmth of their friendship, she knew there was still one loose thread to tie up — her relationship with the Greengrass family and what it meant moving forward.
Not long after her return to London, Hermione received an invitation from Daphne to meet at an upscale tea shop in Diagon Alley. When she arrived, Daphne was already seated, looking as elegant as ever in her perfectly tailored robes.
"Hermione," Daphne greeted, offering a rare smile.
Hermione slid into the chair opposite her sister, sensing the importance of the meeting.
"I wanted to talk to you about something," Daphne began, her tone cautious. "Now that Father is gone, there's... a bit more freedom in how we run things. I've been thinking about our future, and yours, specifically."
Hermione tilted her head, curious. "What do you mean?"
Daphne set her teacup down. "You could have a formal place within the Greengrass family. You don't need to leave your life behind, but you could officially be recognized as one of us — legally, and socially. We'd stand behind you in everything you do, and you'd be part of our legacy."
Hermione's breath caught. It was a generous offer, one that carried weight. The Greengrass were a respected pure-blood family, and their support could open many doors — but it also meant stepping into a world she had spent her entire life fighting against.
Daphne seemed to sense her hesitation. "This isn't about choosing between us and your friends," she added gently. "It's about you deciding where you belong."
For days, Hermione wrestled with Daphne's offer. Being officially recognized as a Greengrass felt like an opportunity to strengthen her bond with her sisters, but it also carried expectations and obligations. She had spent years rejecting the idea that blood or lineage mattered, and the thought of aligning herself with a pure-blood name felt... complicated.
One evening, she sought advice from Astoria.
"Do you regret being part of this family?" Hermione asked, sitting with her younger sister by the fireplace in the Greengrass estate.
Astoria gave her a small, knowing smile. "Sometimes. But it's not about the family name; it's about who we are as people. We're more than our legacy."
Hermione considered those words carefully. Perhaps accepting her place in the family didn't mean abandoning her beliefs — it could mean redefining what it meant to be a Greengrass.
The next week, Hermione met with Daphne again, but this time she had an answer.
"I'll accept," Hermione said slowly. "But on my terms. I'll be a Greengrass, but I won't change who I am. I'll build something new with this name."
Daphne studied her for a long moment, and then her lips curved into a small smile. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
Hermione felt a weight lift off her chest. For the first time, she wasn't choosing between two worlds — she was making them her own.
With her newfound clarity, Hermione officially joined the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Her work focused on reforming outdated laws that discriminated against Muggle-borns and magical creatures — just as she had always dreamed. But now, when people introduced her as Hermione Greengrass-Granger, the name felt right.
It wasn't just a name. It was a declaration: She was a Granger, a Greengrass, and entirely herself.
Her reputation at the Ministry quickly grew, with many admiring her dedication to justice and fairness. But there were also skeptics — those who whispered that she had only succeeded because of her pure-blood connections.
When Hermione overheard one such remark in the hallway, she simply smiled. Let them talk. She knew the truth. She had earned every bit of her success, not because of her name but because of who she was.
Months turned into years, and Hermione's life settled into a rhythm she never expected. Her work was fulfilling, and her relationships flourished. Harry and Ron remained her closest friends, while Daphne and Astoria became an unshakable part of her life.
Every holiday was spent bouncing between the Granger house and the Greengrass estate, with her two families slowly getting to know each other. The divide between the Muggle and wizarding worlds didn't seem so wide anymore.
One spring afternoon, as she stood on the balcony of the Greengrass estate, watching the flowers bloom in the garden below, Hermione felt a profound sense of peace.
She wasn't just surviving anymore. She was thriving.
And as the wind whispered through the blossoms, carrying promises of the future, Hermione knew one thing for certain: She didn't need to belong to just one world.
She belonged to herself — and that was more than enough.
As Hermione settled into her role at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she found herself increasingly drawn to international wizarding issues. Her travels had given her a broader perspective on the challenges that wizards and witches faced across the globe, and she felt a growing desire to make a difference beyond the borders of Britain.
One afternoon, while poring over legislation in her office, a letter arrived from the International Confederation of Wizards. They were seeking candidates for a new initiative aimed at improving magical relations between countries and protecting the rights of magical beings worldwide.
Hermione's heart raced as she read the letter. This was the perfect opportunity to blend her passion for justice with her love of travel and exploration. Without hesitation, she penned her application, detailing her experiences and vision for the future of international magical law.
Weeks later, Hermione received an owl with the Confederation's official seal. She was offered the position of International Magical Liaison, a role that would have her working directly with wizarding governments around the world.
Her friends and family were thrilled for her, though they knew it meant she would be away from home for extended periods.
"I always knew you'd do something extraordinary," Harry said, clapping her on the back as they celebrated over dinner.
Ron grinned. "Just don't forget to send us a postcard once in a while."
Daphne and Astoria were equally supportive. "You're going to change the world, Hermione," Astoria said, her eyes shining with pride.
Hermione felt a mix of excitement and nerves. This new role was a significant responsibility, but she was ready for it. She had grown so much, and now it was time to take everything she had learned and apply it on a global scale.
Hermione's first assignment took her to South America, where tensions were rising between magical communities and local governments. She was tasked with mediating disputes and proposing solutions that would ensure peaceful coexistence.
Her days were long, filled with meetings and negotiations, but Hermione thrived in the challenge. She listened carefully to each side, working tirelessly to find common ground and build trust. Slowly, progress was made, and new policies were implemented that respected both magical and non-magical rights.
In her downtime, Hermione immersed herself in the local culture, exploring hidden magical sites and learning about ancient spells unique to the region. Every experience deepened her understanding and respect for the diversity within the wizarding world.
As Hermione's work continued, her reputation grew. She was invited to conferences and summits, where she spoke about the importance of unity and collaboration. Her speeches were passionate and inspiring, emphasizing the strength that came from embracing differences and working together.
Her message resonated with many, but she also faced resistance from those who clung to old prejudices and feared change. Hermione met these challenges head-on, using her intellect and compassion to break down barriers and foster dialogue.
One of her proudest moments came when she was able to broker a landmark agreement between warring factions in Eastern Europe. The treaty not only ended years of conflict but also laid the groundwork for a more inclusive and equitable magical society.
After several years abroad, Hermione returned to Britain for a well-deserved break. She was greeted with open arms by her friends and family, who were eager to hear about her adventures and achievements.
Despite the accolades and successes, Hermione remained humble, always focusing on the work still to be done. She spent her time at home reconnecting with her roots, visiting the places that shaped her, and grounding herself in the familiar.
One evening, as she sat in the Granger family's living room, her parents asked her a question that had been on their minds.
"Do you ever feel torn between the two worlds you belong to?" her mother asked gently.
Hermione smiled, her eyes thoughtful. "Not anymore. I've learned that I don't have to choose. I can be part of both worlds and contribute to each in my way."
Her father nodded, pride evident in his gaze. "You've always been our Hermione, and that's more than enough."
As Hermione prepared to return to her work with the International Confederation of Wizards, she reflected on how far she had come. She had faced challenges, embraced her identity, and carved out a path that was uniquely hers.
She knew there were more hurdles ahead, but she was ready. Armed with the support of her loved ones and the lessons she had learned, Hermione was determined to continue making a difference.
Her legacy wouldn't be defined by her name or lineage but by the impact she had on the world and the lives she touched along the way.
As she stood on the threshold of her next adventure, Hermione took a deep breath, ready to step forward into the future.
Her journey was far from over — it was only just beginning.