A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! Huge thanks to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter! You can find me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
Please let me know what you thought of chapter three and be on the lookout for chapter four soon!
It was absolutely no secret to Hermione that Walburga was less than enthused by her new house guest and even more incensed by her husband's pronouncement that she would be treated as good as a daughter. Walburga did not want a daughter, especially not one who'd been muggle raised in another time.
But over the next week that Hermione had been living in Grimmauld Place, she'd noticed the other witch softening. Maybe it was the rift that had been caused by Sirius running away, but it seemed that Walburga was missing something and Hermione was able to fill it up somewhat.
Hermione was not sure how to deal with this newer, softer Walburga, who was not screaming at her at the top of her lungs. She had even said as much to the witch, only to leave things rather awkward when Walburga realized that she must be dead if they'd interacted with her portrait. The realization made Walburga's mood dark — and after all, why shouldn't it? Sixty was not very old to live by wizarding standards.
Walburga was also oddly enough the greatest help to Hermione as she adjusted to living in 1977 as a pureblood witch. Hermione was still grappling with and could not understand how not even one of her four squib grandparents said anything to her about being a witch once she had received her Hogwarts letter. It made her angry to know that they had all sorts of useful and important information about the world she was entering, but that they'd chosen to keep it to themselves. Maybe it was some sort of misplaced jealousy that she had something that they did not — magic.
"Many families cannot stand the shame of producing a squib child. It makes their familial magic look weak and destroys their chances of building alliances with other families," Walburga explained, with a pinched look on her face, while she brushed Hermione's wet hair after a bath.
The younger witch normally would have shooed her away, but she found herself craving the attention — the motherly affection — now that she knew that her family was a lie. "But how did they all find each other?" Hermione demanded. "I mean... four squibs? It sounds implausible to say the least."
"The children are usually given away when they are young, once it's evident that they will not be selected for Hogwarts," she continued, her voice not much more than a whisper. "It's an open secret that everyone knows where they go. Families send them to the same places. It makes sense that they would stick together. After all, a mere muggle could not understand the life they had come from."
Hermione hummed, thinking that it did seem to make sense that they'd all end up together after all. She tried to remember the stories of how her grandparents met. She hadn't thought it was strange that Grandpa Mark — sorry, Marius — and Grandma Amelia had been childhood sweethearts. But, Grandpa Owen was much older than her Gran was. She'd simply told Hermione that she would visit him at the store he worked at, until he finally noticed her and asked her out.
When Walburga was done with her hair, Hermione gasped at how she looked in the mirror. For once, her hair was not a frizzy mess, but instead looked halfway presentable without a bottle of Sleek-Eazys. "How did you do that?" she asked.
Walburga gave a shy smile, fixing a white ribbon into her hair. "Regulus and Si—" she cut herself off before she could say Sirius's name. "Regulus has your curls, too. I've learned over the years."
Hermione had learned that Sirius ran away to the Potters the summer before she arrived and Walburga in a fit of rage had disowned him. His face was already removed from the family portrait when Orion brought her there to add her to it. A cut finger and a press into the tapestry and her face now appeared following a wavy sort of line from another burnt portrait — her Grandfather Marius. The tapestry, however, held no indication of the other families she apparently belonged to.
Part of her wondered what Sirius would think when he returned home one day and saw her face on the portrait. And then she remembered that in her time Sirius was already dead, killed by Bellatrix as well. Curse that witch! She was the cause of all of this — Hermione being sent back in time in the first place. She was just glad that Artcurus hadn't decided that she should go and live with Cygnus and his daughters. Hermione was sure she wouldn't survive there.
"There, now you are ready. You look every inch a Black witch. Even mother couldn't find something to argue about," Walburga said, obviously pleased with her handiwork.
Hermione snorted — rather unladylike, judging by Walburga's glare. "I think your mother would find something, solely because it would be me she was complaining about," she quipped.
Walburga fought off a smile, knowing that Hermione was right, even if she didn't want to admit to it. "Let's go and find Orion. He won't want to keep Regulus waiting," she said.
Giving herself one last look in the mirror, Hermione felt uncharacteristically beautiful. She'd been dreading being pinched and prodded and dressed up like a doll, but Walburga was incredibly image conscious and she would not pick anything that made Hermione look silly. Though she no longer had access to her jeans or dirty jumper, Hermione knew that these witch's robes flattered her. She would not be out of place to collect Regulus from the train.
Orion did not greet her, outside of offering her his hand to side-along apparate to Kings Cross station. She had found that her new father was not a very attentive man. He was far too busy with things at the Ministry to spare his new ward or his wife much attention at all. When he was home, he spent most of his time holed away in his office, though sometimes he called Hermione in to discuss her future. He was sorting out how she could go to Hogwarts in the autumn, despite not having any of the necessary paperwork.
When they were on the platform, Hermione held her breath realizing that she just might be seeing people that she actually knew. Peering around, she tried to find Remus or Sirius or even Snape in the stream of students pouring off of the train into the waiting arms of their happy families.
"Have you told Regulus about me, Orion?" she found herself asking, wondering if the younger Black brother would be pleased to see his new sister.
"Father when we are out in public, Hermione," Orion scolded her. The less questions people had about their relationship, the better, he'd decided. Personally, Hermione thought it was sure to create several more questions.
"Of course, Father. I'm sorry I forgot," she said, biting the inside of her cheek to stop from talking back to him. Even though this was not how she wanted to handle her unexpected foray into the past, Hermione knew that Orion and Walburga had really been far too helpful to her. It wouldn't do to make them unnecessarily upset with poor behavior.
If they kicked her out, what would she do? Where would she go? She still had no money and no hope of finding Headmaster Dumbledore over the summer. She couldn't even scrap together the knuts to send something via owl.
"Yes, I did write to Regulus once it was decided that you would stay with us," Orion explained. "It's best not to surprise him on the platform where everyone could see his reaction."
Hermione had quickly learned that the Blacks did not like to give the indication that they were any less than perfect. Should Regulus react poorly to the surprise of a new family member, it was best that it did not happen out in the open on the train platform where there were so many people to see.
Next to them, Walburga made an excited inhalation when she caught sight of her younger — and only, in her eyes — son. "There he is," she said under her breath, before waving him over.
Regulus Black looked so much like Sirius, it was uncanny. They shared wavy black hair and pretty grey eyes, and each were far too handsome for their own good. Regulus didn't seem to be aware of it, though. He walked through the crowds towards his parents, waving goodbye to his friends.
When they finally came face to face, Regulus did not disguise the curiosity that he obviously felt about her. "Sister," he said loudly, nodding his head to her. "How wonderful to see you again. I was so pleased when Father told me you'd be here to collect me."
Hermione gave him a tight smile, unsure of the charade. "It's good to see you, too, Regulus," she answered, nodding back. She wasn't sure if she should attempt a hug or a handshake. There were eyes on them, so she decided to do nothing, not wanting to cause any more interest than before.
Walburga then began to fuss over her favorite son, while Orion sorted out his school trunk, leaving Hermione rather on the periphery of this odd family unit. Rocking back on her heels, she looked around until she made eye contact with another student. She felt her breath leave her when she realized that it was none other than Sirius himself, standing with the Potter family.
A knot formed in her throat when she saw how close they were — how easy it would be to reach out and talk to them. Only, they didn't know her and they had absolutely no reason to help her. And, judging by the dark look in Sirius's eyes, she got the feeling that her proximity to his family had already tainted her completely in his mind. She wasn't even sure if he had any idea who she was, but he was glaring at her like he hated her.
Damn, she thought to herself. Now she was going to have to wait until she got to Hogwarts to try to talk to him. But, should she even be trying to contact him? It wasn't like he'd be able to help her get back to her correct time. Maybe it was best if she just waited and sought out Dumbledore to get things fixed.
Sirius nudged the boy next to him and pointed her out. Hermione was stunned when he turned to face him. Harry really did look exactly like his father, James. Only, James had a far more arrogant look about him, completely confident in how he stood — the total opposite of her friend, who'd grown up as an orphan. They stared at her openly and Hermione blushed, feeling a bit like a zoo animal.
Just when she could not stand it anymore, Orion offered her his hand again so that they could return to the relative safety of Grimmauld Place. Hermione, feeling off balance, was rather glad to be hidden away again where no one would be able to look at her and gawk, wondering just who she was and how she was related to the Black family.
Once they were home, Walburga called for Kreacher to take Regulus's trunk. Her new 'brother' turned to look at her with a full mischievous grin on his face. "I must say that I've always wanted a younger sister," he said, grinning at her.
"I'm older than you," Hermione said automatically. She'd spent a long time learning about the Black family since she'd been in 1977 and she knew that Regulus's birthday wasn't until November.
"That's not how I've come to understand it," he said, smirking at her. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. "I was led to believe that you actually haven't even been born yet."
"Regulus!" Orion snapped, hearing the suggestion of time travel. "That topic is off limits. We do not want anyone learning how Hermione came to be here. It raises too many questions."
"Of course," Regulus said, bowing his head a bit sarcastically. "Well then, I've always wanted a sister. How about that? Surely you're much better than the brother I used to have."
Orion moved so quickly that Hermione didn't even see him draw his wand, before sending a stinging hex at his son. "Do not speak of him," he seethed through clenched teeth.
Hermione sucked in a breath, shocked that he would do something to his own son. A mask came over Regulus's face and he snapped his mouth shut, obviously realizing that he had spoken out of turn.
"Why don't you two go off and chat," Walburga suggested, her voice shrill and desperate, wanting to smooth this over. "Hermione will have to study in a while, but you can have some time before dinner."
Regulus let out a shaking breath. "Alright, Hermione," he agreed. "You can come to my room. Help me unpack my trunk."
While she wasn't sure what to make of this new dynamic, Hermione nodded, her eyes still wide. Regulus turned and stalked off up the stairs towards his room and she scrambled to follow after her brother.