Witches and Curses and Houses, Oh My!
Just like the chaos and panic of the two days spent moving from Australia to England, the past week sped by in a whirlwind for Hermione Granger.
Who was she kidding, when she signed her inheritance papers she was for all intents and purposes, legally, Hermione Jean Black.
She had moved into Primrose Cottage, located at the very edge of Hogsmeade Village, one of the big houses the dotted the edge of the magical, going into the muggle world.
She was told that the bigger houses were made by the Black family ancestors as a deterrent for muggles to enter their entirely wizarding community – they still owned most of it, though they were either abandoned or have been rented out in perpetuity to some other wizarding family or another. That meant that her large, several acre property had several centuries worth of wards and muggle repelling charms.
She was so close to Hogwarts, but something stops her everytime she thinks about dropping by.
Hermione thanked whatever gods have blessed her with her brain as the past three days have been the very definition of information overload.
After the terse conversation with her mother, of which she refuses to think about just now, it was decided that they would – temporarily – go their own ways. It was the logical choice, seeing as both her mother’s years as a virtual prisoner of her truth under Dumbledore’s spell and Hermione’s own life in the wizarding community, they had inevitably grown farther and farther apart. There were so many things that lay between them and no real time to sort them out one by one.
Hermione felt bad that she didn’t feel bad about the separation. Her mother was going to Bath for a time to spend time with her grandmother as the Dagworth-Granger’s properties have not been lived in for close to a century at this point and the elves were still working on them. She offered the use of any Black property seeing as her mother had to same inclination not to step foot in their old home either, but that was declined. They both agreed to putting the old house in a stasis charm – another thing tabled for a future discussion, as so many other things were these days.
Hermione had promised to visit her mother and grandmother before she went back to Hogwarts for her 8th – technically 7th – year. And that was that. She hugged her mother goodbye and then took Andromeda and Derby’s hand to be whisked away to Primrose Cottage.
The Cottage was comfortable, but it a very country-chic, muggle royalty-on-the-holidays way. If you asked Hermione what color her front parlor’s walls were, she will not be able to tell you. She can also not tell you if her bed was a queen or a king. She wouldn’t even be able to tell you if her breakfast nook had 8 or 10 chairs or if those chairs were light or dark wood. What she could tell you was that it was comfortable and it felt like home.
She could also tell you that the property’s magnificent gardens were what made her love the place even more. The scent of roses and other flowers enveloped the place day and night, though so far Hermione’s favorite was the morning dew of the lush east garden where she had spent most of her time with Andromeda and Narcissa. There was copse of trees with a small glade opening that was perfect for a morning or afternoon tea.
The elves – and yes, Hermione had had that lecture on the symbiotic relationship of elves with wizarding families and have somewhat accepted that Dobby and Winky were the exceptions – not the rule – made sure that the house was as comfortable as possible and was ready to receive her when she came.
Andromeda had very patiently explained elven magic and pureblood history with them to her the very first day, though Narcissa was also present, as she was there more to make sure that the house was “up to standard”. Draco was nowhere to be found, much to Hermione’s relief. She had not gotten over the weirdness of being somewhat related to her childhood bully.
Hermione had put her foot down with regards to the tea towels though, much to both Black sister’s relief. They, too, were appalled at the state of clothing that the Black elves wore. She had learned that usually elves wore the color of the House that they serve, and though the tea towel was the preferred outfit of choice, it should have been neat and freshly pressed at the very least. Some families, like her mother’s even had custom clothes made for their elves in the family’s House colors.
Seeing as the Black Family’s colors were black, forest green and gold – just like the family crest, she had then ordered that all Black family elves, all eighty something of them be clothed in a similar fashion to the Dagworth-Granger elves but in the family’s colors. Hermione did not want to think about the family motto.
Hermione wanted so badly to ask Narcissa what happened with Dobby, but she refrained. It was a wonder to her though, since she had seen how the witch had interacted with the elves at the Cottage and she was unfailingly kind and polite – very far from the image that she had had in her head of the elegant Mrs. Malfoy. Hermione also wanted to ask about her adoption into the Black family as Rorrick had mentioned, but she figured that was the least of her worries at the moment.
No, she had a monumental list of tasks that needed to be done or at the very least planned out before the 1st of September.
Her mother’s magical education, she was pleased to know was being handled by her grandmother. Jean had sent her an owl – it was so weird to think that her mother had owls and knows how to use them – not to worry about her as her grandmother Rose (it was a shameful thing that Hermione did not even know her own grandmother’s name until then) had arranged for a magical tutor for Jean.
It was on the second day that Narcissa had casually mentioned Hermione’s seat in the Wizengamot and that had very nearly sent the witch into a full blown panic attack.
Ever since the war, Hermione’s interactions with the public had been as minimal as she could make it. Harry and Ron had taken to the public outings as it almost always ends up with Hermione panicking that they would be attacked or murdered. It wasn’t an irrational fear as there were still some Death Eaters that have escaped capture. Dolohov – the man responsible for her deep chest scars courtesy of his own dark spell in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries in fifth year – was still very much at large.
Turns out, there was an easy enough fix to the Wizengamot problem as she can appoint a proxy, just like Draco was doing as his sentence for his crimes during the war was probation until he has finished his magical education. Hermione had no qualms in appointing Andromeda for the job, just as Draco had appointed his mother. His father was of course stripped of all his titles and was in Azkaban for the next 10 years.
The main concern for Hermione at the moment was how to deal with the Black properties and businesses. Though it had been running somewhat smoothly since Arcturus Black was alive, there was several things that she wanted to change. Mainly the employment structure and the benefits and compensations. Andromeda assures her she can do it all – but not at the moment as she needed to focus on getting her NEWTS and then maybe her masteries. It didn't appease the planner in her, but again, so many things were bogging her down at the moment, that she just... let it go. For now at least.
There were a hundred other small concerns that she was putting off, mainly because she was feeling very overwhelmed with everything.
She didn’t even question that both Black sisters, though they barely spoke to each other, were at the Cottage everyday at 9am and would only leave once they had checked off at least one or two items on their individual lists of things to do. Not that Hermione even noticed that that was what they were doing. She was just glad for the company in such a crazy time.
Unbeknownst to Hermione, Andromeda and Narcissa had silently – or however they were truly communicating these days – agreed to each take on several tasks of getting Hermione ready for Wizarding society.
Narcissa, ever the social hostess, was in charge of everything related to Hermione’s image. Andromeda, ever the nurturer, was in charge of slowly guiding Hermione to everything she needed to know to be the Head of such a prominent wizarding family. She called them both “Aunt” and was very grateful even when Andromeda would correct her on how to talk to her elves and how to address guests, or how Narcissa would point out that neutral colors wash her out and wouldn’t she look lovelier in jewel tones, maybe emerald greens and deep purples?
It was on the morning of the fourth day at the Cottage, barely three weeks before Hogwarts that Hermione came down to have breakfast that she unwittingly stepped into an argument between the sisters. She had come down the back stairs that lead directly into her family sitting room-slash-breakfast room when she heard raised voices just as she was on the last steps. Debating with herself for all of two seconds, she ploughed on to see the two sisters facing off with each other in the middle of the sunny room.
The way that the sun illuminated the whole room highlighted the differences of the two sisters. She never really thought about it before, but whereas Andromeda and Bellatrix looked almost identical that she had a panic attack the first time she saw Andromeda again after her torture at Malfoy manor, Narcissa looked nothing like them.
Both Andromeda and Bellatrix were half a head shorter than their youngest sister, both had the same curly black hair that Sirius and now she had, both had the Black dark grey eyes, which now that she thought about it, did not look like Draco Malfoy’s silvery grey ones at all. Narcissa Malfoy had straight black hair streaked with platinum white, and bright blue eyes.
Eyes that were now laser focused on her sister.
Actually, both sisters’ eyes were glaring daggers at the other at the moment.
“For the last time - she doesn’t need new clothes!” Andromeda said in a deceptively calm, but raised voice.
“Oh, what do you know, you’ve worn the same robes since after you left Hogwarts! She’s the Head of the House of Black. She needs to look the part!” Narcissa, though she also did not scream, sounded more agitated and vicious.
“Not everyone needs to be a peacock like you and your husband!”
“Don’t you dare bring my husband into this!”
“Oh? Why shouldn’t I, when all of this is mostly your husband’s fault! Him and his great Dark Lord!” Andromeda spat “We didn’t even know that our own cousin had a daughter!”
“And whose fault was it that you didn’t know? Weren’t you the one closest to Sirius? Weren’t you the one who decided to cut him off, cut all of us off? Because he was getting involved too much with Dumbledore? Because we were with the Dark Lord? Wasn’t it you that wanted to bury her head in the sand like always, while we all had to face the consequences of our choices!?” Narcissa’s voice was getting higher.
“I had no choice! You all turned your back on me!”
“That’s a lie and you know it! Even after you were cast out, Bella and I reached out! Siri and Reggie reached out! You were the one who shut us all out! You didn’t even let us meet our niece, and now she’s gone and I’ve never even met her!” Narcissa was screaming now, and her rage was all but visible in the way that the air crackled around her, but more than rage, there was a heartbroken quality to her stance, like she was so mad because she was so hurt.
Hermione could only stand as she witnessed years – decades – of hurt between sisters play out in front of her. She could barely remember that they seem to be firstly arguing about her clothes.
Hermione saw the moment that Andromeda visibly deflated. The moment that Narcissa mentioned Tonks. It was like all the fight went out of her and she just crumpled. Tears came to her eyes and flowed freely. Looking at Narcissa, she was fighting the same tears, though she was barely holding on it them.
Andromeda turned to wipe her tears and she saw Hermione standing at the foot of the stairs.
The older witch straightened and said with a shaky voice, “Oh Hermione, good morning. We were just deciding the schedule for the day.” She tried to smile, but there was no warmth it in.
Narcissa, as always, adopted a cool stance and only nodded. “Yes, we’re going shopping today. I’ve already owled your friends and Draco to meet us in Diagon Alley for lunch and then shopping.”
That surprised Hermione, but before she could speak, Andromeda said. “Yes, well, then I’ll leave you to it, I need to go and check with Teddy and Mipsy.”
Hermione briefly remembered that Mipsy was the elf that Derby, as head elf, had assigned to take care of Andy and Teddy. He had initially wanted to assign more than 1 but Andy had put her foot down, stating that her house wasn’t big enough to have more than 1 elf. Hermione had tried to offer to move her to another, bigger Black property, but the older witch declined, saying she felt closer to her dead husband and daughter in her own house. Hermione did not have the heart to try and persuade her.
She wanted to say something but Narcissa softly said, “Yes, go on and run Andy, like you always do.” There was a deep sadness in her blue eyes as she said it.
Andromeda looked like she wanted to respond but only shook her head and straightened, and without another word to either of them walked out into the front parlor where the floo was.
Narcissa, ever the perfect pureblood then pasted a smile on her face and held out her hand to Hermione. “Come, we need to get you more dress robes and maybe some muggle clothes that don’t belong to run-away teens, yes?”
Surprised that she even knew about muggle clothes, Hermione said, “Muggle clothes? You want to shop in muggle London?”
The other witch only laughed daintily - though it seemed forced. “Oh, Hermione dear, we’re going to Paris of course!” and with a small flick of her wand, sent a slight stinging hex on her backside to get her up back up the stairs in order to prepare.