Reputations

14th June 1984

“Good Gods it's chaos here.” Cassia exclaimed, watching their group of children run wild around the garden with a hippogriff in the middle of them.

“Isn't it?” Narcissa beamed, “Look at them though, they’ll all sleep tonight.”

“From your mouth to the gods' ears,” Antonia muttered, “Astoria is a nightmare currently. I don't know if she's unsettled because Petar and Elena are visiting with Viktor or if it's something else but I don't think I’ve been this tired since Daphne was a newborn.”

“Viktor’s your nephew?” Cassia checked.

“Yes, the boy over there with Marcus and Neville,” she pointed. 

“He can come back any time, “ Alice interjected, “I’ve never seen Neville so taken with another child.”

“The groups are interesting aren't they?” Laurel murmured, “Although today Theo, Lavender and Hermione appear to have let Draco in.”

“And Millie,” Antonia commented, “Look.”

“Oh my. Apparently, we can tell Kingsley to stop fretting now, they are capable of letting other children in.”

Alice snorted, “Of course they are, Merlin they're four! They're always been lovely to Neville when we’ve met them.”

“Yes, but they are still interestingly reliant on one another,” Cassia remarked.

“It's not a bad thing to have close friends. Hermione especially.” Antonia replied softly, “Queenie mentioned discussing the James situation with her before Hogwarts. Kings is completely against it, but I gather Lily Potter will be appointed Potions mistress this year.”

“Yes,” Narcissa agreed, “That worries you?”

“We think she knows,” Antonia sighed, “And deliberately kept the information from James.”

“Sirius said as much,” Narcissa agreed. “But even if it were true, to take it out on a child….”

“She is…not always the most rational,” Alice grimaced as she spoke, “Some of the decisions she makes are detrimental. She's finally allowed Harry around some children, Neville is allowed as long as we don't discuss these meetings or traditional curriculum and I gather she met Molly Weasley recently.”

Narcissa scoffed, “The woman is a menace, and James is spineless. Neither of them are doing the boy any favours and I know Sirius has tried to speak to them. He was banned for almost three months the last time. The boy's his godson, it almost broke his heart.”

“I heard about that,'' Alice agreed, “Remus says he barely sees them anymore. He's scared to become too attached only to be banned for something Lily has decided she doesn't agree with.”

“It must be hard to compete with a ghost,” Dorothea voiced softly, “Her decisions are…not the best but to be forced into a marriage where you know your husband loves someone else. Someone else who had his child? I cannot imagine how difficult that is.”

Narcissa sighed, “No,” she conceded, “But because James won't stand up to the witch and explain anything, she just rides roughshod over everything. Aunt Dorea is forever attempting to stop Effie from crying over the boy. Thank Merlin she sees Hermione because she's only seen the boy once in the last six months. Mrs Potter won't allow it.”

“And that's wrong,” Dorothea agreed, “But most of the blame lies with James. She might be responsible for deliberately cutting people out, but he is wrong for not putting his foot down. Euphemia is his mother. I would be disgusted if Theodore let his partner treat me like that.”

Antonia laughed, “I wouldn't worry, if things stay as they are Hermione and Lavender will have sense knocked into him before you’d notice.”

“True enough,” Dorothea laughed. “Where are Angela and Susan today?”

“Visiting her mother. She's off on a three-month tour of Aisa tomorrow.”

“Of course she is,” Dororthea nodded, “Isn't she just back?”

“From Europe.” Laurel agreed, “The woman doesn't like to remain still.”

“Indeed she does not. I’m almost jealous.” Dorothea sighed, “Perhaps I shall persuade Thibault to travel the world once Theo is grown.”

“Oh that would be lovely, and when he refuses, do ask me,” Narcissa grinned impishly, “We both know Lucius will only go as far as France.”

“Oh we could all go!” Laurel exclaimed, “Girls trip around the world, we can lament the fact our babies are not babies anymore.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Pandora's voice came from behind them, “Although I imagine they'll always be our babies.”

“Pandora! You made it!” Antonia moved to hug her.

“Yes, my experiment failed, I fear I need to regroup before the next one and Luna so loves playing with the other children.”

“You know we’d bring her if you couldn't get away?” Antonia frowned suddenly, only just realising they'd never offered.

“Oh! Oh, that would be lovely,” Pandora beamed, sending a ripple of guilt through the other women.

“Any time,” Narcissa agreed as she watched Draco attempt to persuade Lavender to play with him. “Half of the children have been drop and runs today.”

“The Abbott’s have a little girl Draco's age,” Pandora mused idly, “I think Corrine would like to come.”

“Feel free to invite her,” Laurel smiled, “We’re not exclusive. How's Xeno?”

“Well, the Quibblers sales are up. He wrote an article on owning exotic pets after meeting Kingsley last time. Fluffy-Feathers looked magnificent on the front cover.”

“Oh my,” Narcissa laughed. “I’ll need to get a copy. He's the most pampered Hippogriff I've ever met”

“Isn't he just,” Antonia muttered, “How big a tantrum do you think there's going to be when Hermione realises she can't take him to school?”

All of the women blanched, “Perhaps Severus will be teaching by then. He can take him,” Laurel replied. “And between them don't you think they’ll wear the headmaster down? It's not just Hermione that loves the beast.”

“Indeed it is not,” Astoria agreed, watching Pansy, Daphne and Millie chasing him around the garden.

2nd August 1984

“Uncle Evan!” Hermione screeched, making Kingsley wince. 

Smiling, Evan scooped her up and swung her, “Oh you're getting so big Princess, you need to slow down!”

“Can't,” Hermione grinned, “I’m going to be as big as Daddy!”

“You are! Oh my goodness I won't be able to lift you then!”

“Where's Auntie Rosie and Jacob?” 

“Coming, Jacob was just getting a treat for fluffy feathers. Uncle Evan isn't a fan.”

“Why not, Uncle Evan?”

Evan shuddered, “Dead animals are creepy Princess,”

“But they're not dead animals,” she frowned, “It's food.”

“Yes but…they’ve still got all their fur and their heads and…it really is creepy Princess.”

“If you say so,” she muttered as a small boy barrelled into the room, holding a ferret, an exhausted-looking witch behind him. “Jacob!” Hermione squealed, “Fluffy-Feathers is this way!”

With an exaggerated shudder, Evan watched the children run from the room, the ferret still swinging from his son's hand.

“Merlin, she's excitable today.”

“Mother was here earlier,” Kingsley sighed, kissing Rose on the cheek. “She fed her an inordinate amount of cake and then just left me to it.”

“Ah.” Rose laughed, “The joy of grandparents.”

“Isn't it just?” Kingsley muttered.

“Still doesn't top your dad beginning back a pet hippogriff,” Evan commented with a grin.

“Nothing will ever top that.” Kingsley agreed.

“Should we supervise the children?” Evan asked hesitantly several minutes later when they didn’t reappear.

“Probably,” Kingsley sighed, “Hermione wanted to paint so Mother helped her set it up. I imagine that's where they are.”

“Wonderful,” Evan replied faintly, as he followed KIngsley through to the dining room. “Tell me you got an elf?” he begged when he was confronted with the sight of his son covered head to toe in multiple colours of paint. Hermione, serenely painting a picture on a giant piece of parchment.

“Ah, not yet,” Kingsley admitted, with wide eyes.

“I told him to paint the parchment and not himself,” Hermione muttered, not lifting her head.

“I see he didn't listen,” Rose muttered, casting a cleansing charm over her son who pouted. 

“No,” Hermione agreed with a put-upon sigh.

“Why don't we put the paints away for just now, Princess and do something else?”

Hermione lifted her head to look at her father suspiciously, “Like what?”

“We could take Jacob to the park?” Her eyes narrowed further, “Or the zoo?”

“The park with the water?” she asked suddenly. 

“Yes.” he agreed, nodding decisively, ignoring Evan.

“Fine,” Hermione sighed, setting her brush back in the water.

“Good girl, go and get shoes.”

“Are you insane?” Evan hissed as she ran out. “Toddlers and water!”

It's fine!” he soothed, “they’ll splash about and tire themselves out. Think of the nap you’ll get out of it.”

The look Evan shot him showed how unconvinced he was of that but gamely, he nodded, “Right then.”

It took all of five minutes for Evan to realise how correct his original thoughts had been. The moment the water came into view both children barreled into it with shrieks of glee and as he watched his son dip his head in, he privately decided it was time to reevaluate his friendships. At his side, his wife huffed out a laugh, “You'd miss him.”

“Would I though?” he whined. “Look at them!”

“I know.” Rosie sighed, watching the children as Kingsley made sculptures out of the water for them to run through, “I'm really hoping he's right and they sleep.”

“What did I tell you?” Kingsley smiled smugly two hours later, both children asleep on their fathers' shoulders. 

“Yes alright,” Evan muttered. 

“Was it that traumatic?”

Looking like it pained him, Evan shook his head, “Not after the initial panic that my son was going to drown himself.”

Kingsley laughed, “As if I wouldn't have wards up to ensure Hermione didn't attempt the same thing.”

“You're going to teach me those wards,” Evan countered, “Because there is no way we’re escaping coming back.”

“Of course,” he agreed easily, adjusting Hermione so she was in a more comfortable position, “Now, are you staying for dinner?”

“Yes!” Rosie answered before Evan could. “Tollys been poorly, but refuses to take a night off unless we're out.”

Evan sighed, “On that note, Tolly's sister is looking for a home. Consider it.”

Kingsley grimaced looking at his daughter. “Fine,” he muttered. 

“Good. We’ll send her round tomorrow.”

19th September 1984

Happy birthday Princess,” Kingsley grinned down at his daughter, his heart hurting as another birthday passed without Cordelia. 

Hermione beamed up at him “Are we having pancakes for breakfast Daddy?” she checked.

“As if we’d have anything else,” he scoffed, “Dolly's been waiting on you to wake up for ages!”

Hermione grinned, spotting the elf hovering. “Morning Dolly! It's my birthday!”

“Dolly knows,” the elf beamed, “Dolly will be bringing the little Mistress her birthday breakfast now!”

Hermione's eyes blew wide as Dolly clicked her fingers and the table was immediately filled with pancakes and every topping imaginable in little bowls for them to choose from. Biting back a groan, Kingsley ushered her forward. “Let's hope we’re not eating alone,” he muttered.

“Don't be silly Daddy,” Hermione chided, “Uncle Severus and Uncle Bast will be here soon.”

As if on cue the floo roared, Bast's greeting ringing out before he appeared in the doorway, sweeping Hermione out of her seat to twirl her, “Happy birthday Princess! Merlin, how are you five! Stop growing up please?”

“No Uncle Bast!” she giggled.

He pouted, only making her laugh harder, “Please?”

“Salazar, give her here!” Severus demanded stealing her, accepting the hug that was just a little too tight around his neck with resigned tolerance. “How does it feel to be five?” he asked seriously.

Hermione's head cocked to the side as she seemed to give the question real thought, “I'm big enough to make my own potions now,” she hedged,

“Nice try, little witch,” he bopped her nose. “You’ll be old enough when I decide you're old enough. And at the very least you have to be able to see over the bench without a stool.”

She pouted, looking rather like her godfather, “Then what's the point in getting older?” she lamented.

All three of them had to hide their smiles. “Well…maybe you're old enough to come with me when I take Madam Pomfrey the Hogwarts potions.” he offered instead.

“Really!” she squealed, making him wince at her volume.

“On Monday,” he confirmed, hoping he didn't regret the decision.

“Well…this is… Merlin.” Rodolphus looked around the room at the screaming children, the utter chaos and found himself without words. 

Evan laughed, thrusting a glass into his hands, “This numbs it slightly, trust me.”

He swallowed it in one go. “When?” he begged. 

“Oh hush,” a soft voice commanded, appearing beside them. “Look how much fun they're all having.”

Turning to look at Effie Potter slightly incredulously, Rodolphus failed to hide the slight whine in his voice, “But must they be so loud while doing it?”

Laughing, Effie turned back to the chaos. “It's nice,” she murmured, unable to hide the hint of sadness that was ever-present. “Seeing them all together.”

“He’ll come around.” Evan soothed, not managing to sound convincing even to his own ears.

“He won't,” she shook his head, “He feels guilty, and he's punishing himself. What he hasn't realised is that not only is he actually punishing everyone else, it's Harry that misses out. It doesn't help that Molly Weasley agrees with everything Lily says and of course, her sister has a boy the same age. I understand they have a lot of muggle friends. Which is lovely, truly, but…he’ll go to school not having experienced any of this, he's missing out on so many experiences that he should have. Merlin, even the Minister is trying to convince the Wizengamot to pass the muggleborn law, introducing them to our world in time for their foundation education. Madam Quinten and Master Collins are advocating it alongside him because they all recognise how important those childhood connections are. Not that the Wizengamot are listening. They're too determined that Dumbledore is right. I cannot understand why he is so against it.“

“Who knows,” Evan sighed, “I gave up trying to understand that wizard years ago.” he paused, “Oh! Looks like they're doing cake. I wondered why the noise had stopped abruptly.”

Rodolphus snorted, edging closer as he watched Kingsley bring out a cake shaped like a hippogriff. 

“He has no idea what's missing out on,” Effie murmured, feeling her husband wind his arm around her from behind.

“No,” Monty agreed, watching the beaming girl who should have been their granddaughter blow out her candles.

24th September 1984

“Now Princess, what are the rules?” Severus checked.

“No running off, no touching, don't let go of your hand,” she recited promptly.

“Good girl,” he smiled down at her fondly. 

“Uncle Severus? Can Fluffy-feathers come?”

“I…damn it,” he muttered, seeing her begging eyes out in full force, “I'm sure Hagrid would love to meet him,” he agreed finally, biting back a groan as she excitedly ran for the leash.

“Oh…oh my.” Poppy Pomfrey stared in utter shock at the sight of Severus Snape clutching the hand of a girl with wild curls, a fully grown hippogriff standing beside them on a leash.

“Poppy,” Severus inclined his head in greeting, “Your order.” She accepted it automatically, placing it down before she dropped it, waiting on the explanation that was hopefully coming. “Hermione, can you say hello to Madam Pomfrey? She's the school mediwitch.”

“Hi,” Hermione mumbled shyly, curling herself into Severus’ side.

“I didn't…you have a daughter?”

“No,” Severus’ mouth quirked into an amused smile, “Hermione Shaklebolt is my niece.”

“Oh. Oh!” Poppy froze, taking the girl in properly, “You look very like your mother Miss Shacklebolt.” Hermione nodded solemnly. “Shacklebolt curls thought.”

“Like Auntie Queenie,” Hermione mumbled.

“Yes indeed,” Poppy smiled, “I do hope you’ll be less of a menace than your father when you eventually come here. I think he spent more time in my infirmary than he did in class.”

“Daddy?” Hermione exclaimed incredulously.

“Oh yes, your Daddy was always up to mischief. Did he tell you he once tried to steal a bowtruckle from Care of Magical Creatures and it bit him so hard it took off the tip of his nose?”

Hermione's eyes were like saucers as she stared at the mediwitch. “NO!” she breathed. 

“Well he did. He had to wear a bandage for over a week. If you look closely you can still see the teeth marks.”

Severus groaned quietly, “You're going to check, aren’t you, Princess?”

“Yes!”

Poppy snorted, inclining her head at the watching hippogryff. “Your pets a bit harder to hide.”

“His name's Fluffy-feathers,” Hermione informed her seriously, “Grandad says he's a pest, but I think he was just lonely and that's why he wanted to come home with us.”

Poppy let out a peel of laughter, “I see,” she murmured.

“Poppy!”

All three turned to look at the doors as Minerva burst in. “Merlin, tell me you have a pain potion. Those fourth years are going to be the death of me.” she skidded to a halt. “Is that a hippogriff?”

“His name is Fluffy-feathers,” Poppy informed her serenely, handing over a vial.

“I see,” Minerva murmured faintly, her eyes running over Severus and then down to Hermione.

“This is Professor McGonagall, Princess,” he explained, “And Merlin help us all, she’ll likely be your Head of House.”

“I don't…” Minerva's eyes narrowed, “Cordelia?”

“Yes,” he turned back to Hermione, “Professor McGonagall was also your Mama’s Head of House.”

“Oh.” Hermione breathed, “Puppy-man says you turn into a cat.”

“Puppy-man?”

“Sirius Black,” Severus sighed. 

“Ah,” she turned back to Hermione, “Indeed I do.”

“Can I do it? I want to be a hippogriff!”

“Once you're old enough no doubt.” Minerva agreed with a smile, “But you can't do it on your own.”

“Posy and Theo could do it too.”

Severus groaned, “No, Princess, she means you cannot attempt it without an adult.”

“Oh,” Hermione pouted. “When?”

Minerva grinned, “If you prove to be as good as your Mama, I’ll teach you when you're of age.”

“Promise?” Hermione checked.

“Oh I promise,” Minerva agreed, ignoring Severus’ panic. “It's time we taught more animagi than we do.”

“Kingsley is going to curse me,” Severus muttered. “Now before we get entangled in any more dangerous promises, shall we take Fluffy-feathers to meet Hagrid? He can check him over, and make sure he's healthy while we’re there.”

“Ok,” Hermione smiled sweetly, before continuing, “Maybe Fluffy-feathers will make some friends and then Posy and Daffy can have one too!”

“Gods please no,” Severus begged to no one in particular, making the two elder witches laugh.

12th October 1984

“Grandma?”

“Yes, Poppet.” Aster looked down at her granddaughter, her heart clenching painfully as her daughter's eyes stared back at her. She wasn't sure it would ever get easier. To lose a child was a monstrous thing, even if they did leave a part of themselves behind in the shape of their own child. Some days she wasn't convinced that didn't make it harder. Each year, Hermione looked more and more like a darker version of her own baby, Cordelia so easily identifiable on her still childish face. If she were honest with herself Aster was terrified for the day her baby roundness disappeared, the day the resemblance to the last images she had of her daughter became realised, and perhaps worst of all, the day her granddaughter surpassed her mother in age. She wasn't sure she could bear it, and yet it was unthinkable that she would not. She adored all of her grandchildren, but there was no denying that this tiny piece of her daughter was the one she kept especially close, her last link to the child she’d never get to see grow old, who would never meet her own grandchildren, who wouldn't get to see her daughter off to school, soothe the childish hurts, counsel when teenage hormones became difficult. And it hurt, all of it. And yet she couldn't change it, and she wouldn't allow her pain to force her from her granddaughter's life, she couldn't. Because it was painful and soothing in equal measure, the hints of her Cordelia in Hermione, the reminders that she had been real, and here and loved.

“Grandma, I think Fluffy-feathers is lonely,” she informed her very seriously. Aster had to bite back a smirk. 

“Oh?”

“Can we get him a friend, Grandma?”

“I don't think Daddy would like that Poppet,” she chided.

Hemione sighed heavily, “Just a little one Grandma?”

“What were you thinking?” she checked, curious now.

“Well…Madam Pomfrey said Daddy wanted a pet Bowtruckle but it bit him. So how about a duck?”

Aster blinked, trying to see the connection and failing miserably. “I don't understand. How does a bowtruckle compare to a duck?”

“It doesn't,” Hermione shrugged, “But I really want one and it seems like a better choice.”

Unable to help herself, Aster laughed “Oh, Merlin Poppet. I don't think that's how it works.”

“But it could.” she hedged. “Daddy says nothing beats Grandad bringing home Fluffy-feathers.”

“I know.” Aster agreed.

“So a duck couldn't be worse,” Hermione reasoned, apparently completely serious.

“What's this about a duck?” Dorian checked, walking into the room.

“Grandma’s going to get me one Grandpa!” Hermione informed him, bouncing in her excitement.

Dorian arched a brow at his wife, “Is she now?”

“I don't quite think that's what we agreed,” Aster argued.

“Oh,” Hermione's face fell, before she turned begging eyes towards her grandfather. “Fluffy-feathers is so lonely though!”

Dorian laughed, “I see,” he nodded seriously before he shrugged, “We can't have that then.”

“Dory!” Aster hissed, “You cannot….

“Atticus got her a hippogriff,” he stressed, “It’ll be fine. What are you going to call it, Little Imp?”

Hermione's entire face lit up, her body vibrating with excitement when she realised her grandfather had capitulated completely, “Oh…oh…I…” she bounced in her seat before declaring with complete certainty, “Jimmy.”

Her grandparents blinked at her “Jimmy.” Aster repeated faintly. “Of course.”

“Well… let’s..ah. Go and get Jimmy,” Dorian laughed. 

“From where?” Thalia hissed in his ear as he ushered them out the door.

“Oh, I know a wizard,” he grinned.

“Oh! Oh look at them!” Hermione breathed.

“Last two,” Coran Fletcher grinned. 

With an eye roll, Aster knew it was coming before her husband spoke. “Well, we can't leave just one, can we Little Imp?”

“No Grandpa,” she breathed, her eyes going impossibly wide as Coran deposited one of the tiny ducklings into her hands. “I'm going to call you Duckie,” she mumbled.

“Duckie and Jimmy,” Aster muttered. “My gods.”

“What are those?”  Hermione asked curiously seconds later.

“Signets,” Coran smiled sadly, “Lost their parents a few weeks back.”

“Oh,” Hermione's eyes watered before she swivelled to look at her grandparents.

“Poppet,” Aster warned, “We can't…”

“But they have no mummy and no daddy, Grandma! We can't just leave them.” Her lip wobbled and the battle was won.

“Oh Mother of Circe, Kingsley truly is going to Avada us.” she groaned, “What are you calling them Poppet?”

Hermione beamed, her head tilting, “Quack and Pebbles.”

“Ah Hermione, sweetling, swans don't quack.”

Unrepentant, she shrugged, “Maybe Quack will.”

With a badly concealed smile, Coran readied the birds for transport, imparting last-minute advice on the two adults.

“Grandpa?” Hermione murmured as he stepped out of the floo, the carriers clutched carefully in his hands.

“Yes, Little Imp?”

“We don't have a pond!” 

She looked so upset, her tiny hands wringing that he found himself promising to make one. 

“Scrap the Avada,” his wife muttered, “Kingsley is going to ensure our deaths are painful and drawn out.”

“Princess! Where are you?”

“The Little Miss is with the ducks,” Dolly informed him.

Kingsley froze for a second before he laughed, “They took her to the park this late? Has she been that hard to handle today?”

The elf frowned. “The Little Miss is in the garden.”

“Tell me the ducks are toys?” he begged as that statement filtered through.

“Does the master wish Dolly to lie?”

“Yes,” he groaned, “For fuck's sake! I’m banning grandparents!”

He walked outside slowly, hoping against hope that this was all a bizarre dream.  Instead, he found his in-laws and his daughter cooing at four little bundles of fluff, the hippogriff watching on seriously.

“Tell me I'm imagining things?” he begged.

Two sets of guilty eyes met his, followed by one that was so excited he groaned, “Daddy! Come and meet Quack and Pebbles and Duckie and Jimmy.”

“Jimmy?” he repeated.

“Yes!” Hermione scooped a tiny yellow duckling from the water, holding it up. “Jimmy meet Daddy!”

“Why do we have ducks?” he froze, “When did we get a pond?”

“Fluffy-feathers was lonely,” Dorian informed him with an utterly straight face.

“Seriously?” he demanded incredulously.

“Yes,” Dorian nodded as if that was a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why he now had four other things to keep alive and a sodding pond. “Now, they still need to be under warming charms, so they can't stay outside at night, especially as they're babies out of season. And two of them are swans, not ducks.”

“Don't say that like it's normal!”

“Fluffy-feathers seems to like them,” he shrugged.

Kingsley stared at them incredulously, until his eyes found the hippogriff who was standing patiently as Hermione lined the tiny birds up on his back. “This isn't happening.”

“Hermione Poppet, we’ll be going now,” Aster grinned, hugging her granddaughter tightly. “We’ll see you in a few days.”

“By Grandma! Bye, Grandpa!” Hermione called, turning her attention back to her father, “Can they sleep in my room Daddy?”