Chapter 1
When Hermione Granger’s parents told her at age eleven that she had been adopted, it wasn’t entirely a surprise to her. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t tell looking in between the three of them. When they told her right after that she’d somehow been born with a completely non-fake form of magic and was actually a real live witch, that had been a total surprise to her.
But magic came naturally to Hermione and for the first time in her life, she felt at home in the world as she settled into her bed in Gryffindor tower. And when she developed an unlikely friendship with Ron Weasley and Harry Potter everything only seemed to make more sense. Her first three years at Hogwarts were utterly unexpected but felt legendary. They battled trolls, professors, werewolves, she was petrified, and they even used a time turner to help an escaped convict. All of it felt surreal yet meant to be. She had found her place in the world, next to her two friends.
When she walked into her double potions course on the first day of classes fourth year, she took her seat as usual next to her friends. Also as usual, Professor Snape made a point of embarrassing Harry in front of everyone including the exchange students and ignoring her whenever she raised her hand to answer questions. Everything was as expected. Except when she turned to walk out of the dungeons two hours later and found two Durmstrang students gaping at her.
One of them was blond and the other brunette, both were handsome and had an aristocratic air about them which she’d learned to expect of pure-blooded witches and wizards. The blond boy watched her with an expression of great confusion. The brunette’s face, however, had paled and watched her with an expression of horror. Hermione’s face heated as neither of them looked away.
“Hermione, are you alight?” Harry was nudging her in the side.
“What? Oh, right.” She was called out of her confusion as she turned to him. “Yes, sorry, I—what were you saying?”
“I was asking if you were up to grab lunch before we have to meet the new DADA professor or if you wanted to grab a bite afterwards.”
“Oh, er, I suppose either is fine. Ron?”
“Hmm?” he looked up from where he’d been folding a piece of parchment.
“Lunch?” she asked.
“Oh yeah, let’s go.”
“Perfect.” She pulled her bag over her shoulder and followed Harry out. She couldn’t help it if she looked back at where to two boys had been sitting, just to see if she’d imagined it, but they were gone.
She sat through lunch listening to Harry and Ron talk about the Triwizard Tournament and who they thought would get picked. The whole time though she was thinking about the two boys who’d been staring at her so oddly. As they were walking to class, she couldn’t hold in her curiousity anymore.
“Ron, do you know who those two boys sitting behind us in Snape’s class were?”
“Who?”
“The two boys behind us? One was blond the other had brown hair, they were acting weird. Looking at me kind of funny. I was wondering if you knew anything about them?”
“Oh! Yeah, the blonde’s a Malfoy I think.” He said it like it was obvious, but Hermione had never heard of a Malfoy before.
“A who?”
“Malfoy. They’re purebloods. Really loaded. Really awful. Dad works with them at the ministry. Big supporters of dark wizards apparently. I dunno his name but I’ve seen his father in the paper enough to recognize the hair. Really blond. Probably heard you were a muggleborn and just decided to be a git about it.”
Hermione had been living in the wizarding world long enough to not be surprised by muggle prejudice. Goodness knows the arseholes in Slytherin house had made it enough of their mission to remind her of her place every chance they got. But she couldn’t help the disappointment she felt that even those from the other schools would look at her the same way. If she was honest a part of her still hoped that Ron might be wrong, maybe their stares had been for a completely different reason, maybe she’d had something on her face?
She got her answer though the next day when she was reading in the library and something slammed on her table. She looked up to find the blond—Malfoy—glaring at her.
“Who are you?”
“What?”
“Who. Are. You.” He said with both hands braced on the table as he leaned forward.
“I—Hermione Granger?”
“Why are you doing this? What do you want?” he spat.
“Doing what?”
“He’s been through enough. He doesn’t need this too. I don’t know what kind of sick joke this is, but you can stop it now. Take the glamour or whatever this twisted thing is off.”
“The gla—what?” Hermione genuinely had very little idea of what was happening right now and the boy across from her only seemed to grow more angry.
“I said, take. It. Off. It’s cruel and tasteless.” He ordered.
Seriously, Hermione was really confused. But she was also Hermione Granger, and she wasn’t someone who let others just tell her what to do.
“I don’t know who you think you are,” she said as she rose from her seat, “But I’m not wearing a glamour, I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t have to sit here and listen to you insult me. Good. Day.” She mimicked him and slammed her book shut.
“I’m serious. Theo doesn’t need this. Neither of us do.” He carded a hand through his hair and Hermione hated the part of her that noticed he really was rather attractive. But he also looked exhausted and when his fierce eyes met hers again, she realized they were grey. “I’m asking you to stop.”
She pushed her book into her bag and leaned over the table, mirroring his stance. “Stop what?”
“You’re telling me it’s a complete coincidence you look identical to a young Kassandra Nott?”
“Who?”
He huffed at her, and his glare only growing more fierce. “I saw you in Severus’s class. I know you’re not an idiot. You’re going to tell me it’s a total coincidence you look exactly like a young Kassandra Nott?”
“I’m not sure how to make it any clearer to you. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She shook her head in disbelief. But this, for whatever reason seemed to make the boy frown at her and his expression soften—barely, but even barely was something. He considered her for a moment.
“Who are your parents?”
“Jean and Richard Granger.” She answered, she wasn’t really sure why though. This boy was arrogant and rude. She didn’t have to tell him anything, and yet, something in her felt strange in front of him—nervous, probably. Hermione didn't know. The boy only frowned more.
“Are you a muggleborn?” he sneered, and Hermione raised a brow.
“Is that a problem?”
“Fucking Salazar.” He breathed and she couldn’t help the sneer that appeared on her own face.
“You don’t even go to school here. What could you possibly have to say to Salazar Slytherin?”
“What could I?” he looked at her and crooked his head, “Fine. Fucking hell. Better?”
She rolled her eyes, “What’s wrong?”
“You’re definitely a muggle born?” he asked.
“Obviously. We already went over this.”
His response was a huff, shake of his head, another pointed glare as he looked her up and down, and then storming out of the library without another word—in that exact order. Hermione sat back down slowly, just watching the spot where the rude boy had been standing only just a moment ago, before realizing she was unlikely to get any more work done, and standing to go find Ron.
She found him in Harry and his dormitory sitting on Harry’s bed as they tossed something between the two of them.
“What are you two doing?” she said as she walked in, and both their heads snapped towards her.
“Hermione?” they chorused, and Ron asked, “What are you doing here?”
“Well, you know how I was asking you about that Malfoy boy earlier?” Ron nodded. “He just followed me into the library, yelled at me, and was a total and utterly complete prat.”
Harry patted the spot next to him on the bed. She took it.
“What’d he say?” he asked
“He accused me of having a glamour on and some sick prank for his friend! And then said I was lying! And when I told him he was wrong he actually mocked me by saying I looked exactly like someone named Kassandra Nott! But clearly, I told him I didn’t know who that was and THEN he got annoyed at me for being a muggleborn and then just left without saying anything!” she huffed loudly and crossed her arms. Harry was looking at her with his eyebrows raised in either confusion or surprise at her rant. Ron’s brows though were really furrowed, and he looked like he was trying to solve a difficult puzzle.
“Ron, say something. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Well, because, I mean—bloody hell you do look a bit like Kassandra Nott.”
“WHO THE HELL IS KASSANDRA NOTT?” she cried but Ron was still looking distant, his face concerned.
“She—she was a witch. Pureblood." He started. "Sacred Twenty-Eight bullshite and all of that. She, er, she died. Just a few years ago. When we were like ten. Really brutal stuff. No one knows how or why, but—but someone murdered her. It was all over the papers cause she went missing first. They said her husband just about lost his mind trying to find her because…well because it wasn’t really the first time a—” Ron stopped talking for a moment and looked at his hands which was weird because Ron wasn’t usually a particularly reverent person when it came to stuff happening.
“Ron, it wasn’t the first time a what?” Harry asked from beside her. Ron looked at Harry for a moment and then at Hermione.
“It wasn’t the first time a Nott went missing and turned up dead.”
“Ron, what on earth is that supposed to mean?” Hermione asked when he didn’t explain any further. “What do you mean it wasn’t the first time?”
Ron made a funny face like he was smelling something bad but continued talking. “Well, the Notts, they’re, er, they’re big important purebloods. I told you about the Malfoys being rich, the Notts are probably the only ones close enough to be second to the Malfoys. And they’re pretty much just the same. They got in with You Know Who during the war and all of that too. But, the Malfoys only had one kid. The Notts had two. Twins. A boy and a girl. Except after the war when we were all like five, the girl went missing. Out of nowhere. I remember because my mum wouldn’t let us leave the house much after that. She got really strict and made sure someone was around all the time. The girl's name was in The Prophet all the time looking for her. But one day, they found her—or her body. She’d been murdered. It basically broke the whole family, I think it was real sick too the way she’d been killed. The parents were said to have gone a little mad. And then when the mum, Kassandra Nott,” he nodded to Hermione, “went missing years later, her husband really lost it. And when she turned up dead, he flipped his lid and killed himself. You said Malfoy mentioned his friend?”
Hermione didn’t know what to say, she just nodded.
“I bet that’s the Nott boy. I think I remember hearing something about them taking in the remaining kid. Godric, Hermione. I wouldn’t have thought it until you said it, but you really do look a lot like the Lady Nott.”
“I do?”
“Yeah, it’s a little weird. I mean, I don’t remember completely what she looked like cause I would’ve only ever seen her in the news clippings, but yeah.”
Hermione didn’t really know what to say. The only real thing floating through her head was the look of horror on that poor boy’s face when she’d turned around. She couldn’t imagine how he must have felt. She’d obviously never met him before, but he must be really traumatized after everything he’s been through. And to see her when she supposedly looked just like his dead mother, it must have been horrible. Now Malfoy’s little tantrum in the library made more sense. If he was close enough to have taken his friend in when both his parents were gone, then he must have known the family well. Hermione wondered if he also knew the boy’s sister.
When she went to bed, she fell asleep thinking about all she’d learned and had the strangest dream.
It was sunny as Hermione sat on a blanket eating strawberries. She was on a grassy hill and next to her was the largest home she’d ever seen in her life but for some reason it felt familiar. The wind was blowing her curls everywhere and for whatever reason, Hermione couldn’t help giggling.
“What is it, Flower?” A voice said from behind her.
“Mummy look!” Hermione heard herself say and then she twisted around to show her wild curls and found a woman with a kind face and matching head of hair smiling down at her.
“Why yes, it’s quite wonderful. You look beautiful.”
“Like Mummy?”
“Even better.” The woman grinned and Hermione noticed a man with brown hair and a beard approaching from behind.
“What are my two ladies doing out here?” He called over and the kind looking woman’s smile grew as she turned towards him.
“Thoros dear! Come, join us. We’re having a picnic.” She said and the man sat next to her on the blanket.
“Where’s Tree?” Hermione heard herself ask and the man scrunched his nose as he smiled at her.
“He’s with Dragon right now, Flower. But he’ll be back later, I promise.”
Hermione didn’t know why but she felt herself getting upset at this. “Why’s Tree with Dragon but not me!” she whined, looking into his deeply green eyes.
The man only pulled her towards him in response and hugged her to his chest. “What? You don’t want to hang out with us?”
“No! I don’t want to be forgotten.” She said sadly.
“You’re not forgotten, Flower. We could never lose you. You’re too wonderful.” And then the woman leaned in and kissed her forehead.
Hermione woke with a start. She was in her bed. In her dorm. In Gryffindor tower. At Hogwarts. But who was that? It felt so real, her dream. Like it had actually happened. But it couldn’t have. She couldn’t get the woman’s face out of her mind though. She’d looked just like Hermione, but older. Her hair had been much longer and—and…Hermione’s head ached. It throbbed. There was a burning sensation, and she felt like she couldn’t move and then everything went black.
~*~*~*~*~
The next morning Hermione woke with a headache and no memory of anything after she’d gone to her room last night. She dressed and made her way down to the common room where she found Harry and Ron waiting for her. Breakfast was as it always was, but Hermione couldn’t help her anxiety as she walked down from Transfiguration to the dungeons for Double Potions. She couldn’t help but worry over what might happen when she saw the Malfoy boy again and if he’d yell at her. He wasn’t there though when she arrived, and neither was his friend. Her relief was only momentary though as a few minutes later she felt rather than saw when he entered the room.
Hermione tried to discreetly look over her shoulder, but her brown eyes were immediately met with grey ones. Grey ones that looked at her with every possible drop of loathing as he moved through the room and into the bench behind her. When she finally broke eye contact with him, she noticed the boy beside him. The Nott boy Ron had thought. He was tall and rather broad shouldered compared to his friend, almost like a muggle football player back home. He reminded her of someone she’d recently seen, but Hermione couldn’t quite place who it was. His eyes were downcast, and he looked positively exhausted as he sat in his chair. When he turned to face the professor’s desk his eyes locked with Hermione’s, and she immediately looked away. Green. His eyes were green and for some reason that stood out to her.
She was militant the rest of the day though. She wouldn’t look in his direction. She was too scared to see Malfoy glaring at her again or see the haunted expression of Nott’s. He looked so weary, and Hermione was almost terrified that Malfoy had a point and he was right. It wasn’t her fault of course. She wasn’t actually wearing any kind of glamour—it was a rather ridiculous notion he’d come up with—but judging by his friend’s reaction, it wasn’t completely absurd of him to be concerned.
Weeks passed and Hermione had almost made a game of it. Avoid Malfoy and Nott. The best part of it was that she wasn’t the only one playing. They seemed to be as opposed to contact as she was. When they did end up passing one another in the halls or class, Malfoy seemed insistent on making her feel unwelcome. His sneer became a regular occurrence in her daily life. Harry found it obnoxious and was always offering to hex Malfoy if she wanted him to, but Ron had some kind of hesitancy about the situation. He looked at Hermione when it happened, almost as if it were her fault. But she couldn’t control her appearance. She didn’t choose to bear resemblance to the boy’s friends dead mother. Which by the way, the Nott boy watched her constantly. He never spoke to her, and whenever she made eye contact with him, he’d always look away. But it happened repeatedly. For weeks. Until one day it didn’t. Because the Nott boy didn’t show anywhere in the castle. Not that she was checking, but if she was…
None of the other Durmstrang boys seemed the slightest bit concerned by Nott’s absence. Usually, the students from the other schools ate Breakfast in their own respective lodgings while eating lunch and dinner between classes with the Hogwarts ones, but Nott didn’t show to any of them. A part of her was almost concerned. She didn’t actually know the Nott boy’s name. It had been over a month since they’d all first arrived at Hogwarts, but it seemed to be a culture difference that Durmstrang students knew each other by their surnames only. Malfoy’s she’d figured out however after unfortunately being stuck behind Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode who were gossiping about him earlier that week.
On October 16, Hermione went to bed early from feeling unwell. She’d been up late the night before reviewing for an exam that morning and it all seemed to be crashing down on her. Which is why she told Harry and Ron an early good night and promptly passed out on her bed. She was alarmed when she fell into a trance like dream.
She was in an elegant pink bedroom that was warm and inviting. The windows were open and a light breeze was rushing through it. There was a little girl playing with some kind of trinket and a boy who looked just like her next to her.
“Emmy come on!” he was pulling one of her curls as she was playing with the toy.
“No Tree!” She pouted and ignored him.
“Please! Emmy, pleeeaaase.” He whined with a toothy smile.
The little girl turned then to look at him. She had the most expressive face and Hermione couldn’t help but think the girl looked rather similar to herself.
“Tree, I can’t. I’m mad at him.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Please Emmy, he didn’t mean it. You know he knows you’re good.” The little boy said it with so much hope that Hermione couldn’t help but hope the little girl accepted. She didn’t know who any of them were or what he wanted to happen but he was so eager. “Pa says we can’t go unless you go.”
She seems to consider this for a moment before making a decision. “We get a cat.”
“A cat? But—”
“A cat or you can tell Dragon I say no.”
Now it’s the little boy who’s pouting as he watches her for a few seconds.
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“But I’m naming it.”
“But you’ll choose a dumb boy name!” she whines.
“No!” He then snatches her toy from her hand in an attempt to annoy her. “I choose a very good name!”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“No!”
“Yes I will Emmy!”
“Fine.” She glares at him but it’s honestly not much of a glare, “What name?”
His eyebrows go up behind his hairline and it seems he never expected to win this fight. “Crookshanks.” He says and Hermione freezes.
Except she didn't freeze. She woke up. In a cold sweat. And her hands were shaking. Really shaking and it seemed to be the middle of the night because she could hear all of her dorm mates sleeping around her. But for some reason Hermione felt like she needed to go on a walk. So, she grabbed a robe and shoes and left her dorm. She left the tower even and was wandering the corridors thinking about her dream. What was it? What was it about? Who were those children? Why was she dreaming about them? And Hermione was wondering these things over and over again when she reached an outdoor corridor and ran into none other than the Nott boy.
He was sitting on one of the stairs to the castle and Hermione couldn't help but feel concern for him. His hair was unruly, and he was making quiet noises as he sat there by himself. So, Hermione walked slowly until she was just a few feet away from him.
“Can I join you?” she asked quietly, in an attempt to not startle him. He did anyway and when his eyes found hers, they went wide as saucers.
“I—I…” he stuttered, and Hermione’s heart lurched for him. He was upset and it was terribly obvious by his swollen face.
“I can’t sleep much either.” She gave him a half smile but as she moved to take a step towards him, suddenly he was on his feet. And not only that, but he was also walking quickly until both his palms were cupping the sides of her face tightly. Green eyes were searching, and Hermione was pretty sure there was a hefty dose of fear in them as well.
“Emmy.” He breathed and Hermione stopped breathing entirely, just watching him. His head started to shake back and forth, and his eyes seemed to get shiny again. “Oh Emmeline, I—I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me again.”
“Wh—what” she choked out.
“Please, please don’t leave me again, Emmy.”
“Who?” Hermione got out because she knew Malfoy thought she looked like Nott’s mother, but his mother’s name was Kassandra, not this Emmeline.
Any composure Nott had before though breaks as he croaked, “It’s me. It’s your Tree. Please don’t leave me again, Flower.” And then Hermione’s head was burning she couldn't hear anything because there was a ringing in her ears and the last thing she felt was her knees buckling out from under her as Nott caught her, barely, and she watched as his expression dropped in horror before everything went black.
~*~*~*~*~
When Hermione woke up, it was not morning, and she was not in her bed in Gryffindor tower. She was in the hospital wing, and it was the middle of the night and she was rather shocked when her eyes opened to find the Nott boy holding her hand next to her while Draco Malfoy glared at her from the end of the bed.
“What’s going on?” she croaked because for some reason her head was killing her and even talking seemed to cause pain. Nott’s head immediately snapped towards her. His eyes looking panicked but relieved.
“Emmy,” he whispered but Malfoy interrupted him.
“Theo.” And when Hermione looked at him again his expression was pained towards his friend. “Theo, you can’t—It’s not her.”
“I know what I saw.” He looked equally pained but insistent. “Dray, I—I know—I know my sister.”
“Theo she’s not.” And it looked like it was hurting him to say, “Her name is Hermione Granger, she’s—she’s a muggle born. Her birth parents are muggles. She’s not…she’s not Emmeline.”
“But—”
And Hermione was not sure why she said it. Honestly, she really wasn't sure. She had lived in the wizarding world for going on four years now and she had never actually felt the need to make the clarification before. But for some reason something in her was screaming at that moment to point out that Malfoy had actually gotten it wrong.
“Actually, they’re not.” Both heads snapped to her and Hermione wonder ed briefly if maybe she should have just stayed silent, but she’d already started talking so she had to finish now. “I mean, my parents—my birthparents. I don’t actually know them. Or, um, who they are. I’ve never met them. I was adopted, so technically no one really knows if they were actually muggles or not. But it’s kind of easier with all the blood purity shite to pick a lane and stick with it, but I guess since, well I don’t actually know why but I guess since you said it I just kind of wanted to make sure—or er, clarify to you that that’s not actually true.” Godric Hermione, shut up, she thought but she just couldn't seem to. “Because I was adopted when I was five and I guess I was in some sort of car wreck because I can’t actually remember much of what happened before then but that’s not actually the point and you probably don’t even care or want to hear about my life so I’m not actually sure why I’m still talking but I guess my point what that yeah, you can’t actually tell him that I’m a muggle born not whatever because we don’t actually know that and why am I still talking? Never mind. Sorry…”
Hermione was kind of expecting the two boys to both be glaring at her in annoyance for her yammering, but she was utterly shocked when not only Nott—whose first name must be Theo—stared gaping at her but Malfoy as well, and not in the glaring way.
“Pardon?” he practically whispered. “You’re—you’re not? You don’t—”
“I know it’s quite pathetic and that’s kind of why I don’t usually make a point of telling people my super sad sob story, but you just looked so confident and for some reason I needed to take you down a notch, but no, I don’t actually really know who my birth parents are.”
And then Malfoy was gripping the bedframe, and his knuckles were practically white. “Emmeline.” He said barely, and he was carding a hand through his hair while still steadying himself with the other. Nott was wrapping both his hands around her one and when Hermione looked over, his eyes were filled with tears.
“Flower.” He murmured softly. But then Hermione’s head was suddenly hurting, and her ears felt like someone was screaming and she did not even get a chance to do much besides groan and grip her head before she collapsed back into the darkness of her bed.
~*~*~*~*~
When Hermione woke up, it was not morning, and she was not in her bed in Gryffindor tower. She was in the hospital wing, and it was the middle of the night, and she was rather shocked when her eyes opened to find the Nott boy holding her hand next to her while Draco Malfoy watched from the other side.
“What’s going on?” she croaked out because for some reason her head was killing her and even talking seemed to cause pain. Both of the boys were watching Hermione intently and she could see the sun beginning to rise behind them.
“Emmeline?” Malfoy said, hesitantly.
“Who? —Malfoy? What are you—” she pulled back from where he was, removing her hand from Nott's. “What am I doing here?”
“You don’t remember?” The Nott boy asked from beside her.
“Remember what? What’s going on?”
“We were—you were—you blacked out.” He finished and there was something about the expression on his and Malfoy’s faces that told her they were thinking.
“Why? What happened? Is everyone alright?” When neither of them responded she sat up and brought her knees to her chest. “Where’s Harry and Ron? Are they okay?” Because naturally, if history was to repeat itself, Hermione being in the hospital wing almost always signalled that something had gone wrong on one of their expeditions.
“Who?” the Nott boy asked. But he did not listen to her response. In fact, neither of them were. They were just staring at each other from across the bed and Hermione couldn't help but only get more worried. No one was paying attention to her. But it was still dark out and she was still in the hospital wing so what the hell was going on?