Chapter II
Hermione watched the scenery outside the window slowly change from forest to meadow. She was sharing a compartment in the Hogwarts Express with Ginny, Neville, and Luna, all of whom were excited for their final year back at school. Her - not so much.
She‘d initially jumped at the letter she had received a month ago inviting her to return to Hogwarts to finish her education and take the N.E.W.T.s, but both Harry and Ron had passed the opportunity up, instead choosing to go into auror training. Hogwarts without her best friends just wouldn’t be the same.
Professor McGonagall had also offered her the position of Head Girl which she had politely declined due to her wish for a relatively normal school year. Because that had turned out incredibly well for her.
The thought of facing Theodore Nott made her stomach twist in a way she hadn’t thought humanly possible. She knew for certain that he would be back at school since it was part of the probationary program the ministry had introduced for underage witches and wizards involved with the Death Eaters during the war, along them Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and her twin brother with whom she had not yet shared her newfound ancestry.
Shortly after finding out, she had sat Harry and the Weasleys down to tell them about her surprising parentage and they had all been incredibly supportive since then. She had been a little nervous, truth be told, seeing as the Weasley family had never been extremely fond of the Malfoys, and she had been worried that that sentiment would extend to the Nott family as well. Ron had been quick to discard those concerns, though. “You’re still the same Hermione Granger we’ve always known. Well, not Granger. You know what I mean. It’s not like this is going to change anything. We didn’t just fight a war against blood supremacy just to turn against Pureblood families.”
She’d hugged him then, grateful for the encouraging words of her best friend. After the kiss they had shared during the final battle, things had been somewhat awkward between them, neither of them wanting to talk about what had happened. She’d been relieved when he had just blurted out one day, “I don’t want to date you, Mione.” and had eagerly voiced her agreement.
Hermione was startled out of her thoughts by the sound of her name coming out of Ginny’s mouth.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
She thought she noticed a weird look in the redhead‘s eyes, but when she blinked, it was gone.
“I was just wondering if you wanted me to get you something from the trolley in case it stops by while you’re gone.”
“Gone?” Hermione wondered. “Why would I be gone?”
“Oh, I thought you mentioned that there were some people you wanted to talk to before we arrive at school.”
She didn’t and they both knew it.
“It can wait until tomorrow. Right now, I just want to spend some time with my friends.”
“But you’ve barely spoken to us since we departed. Maybe you should go to someone you can actually chat with,” Luna’s dreamy voice cut in.
“Great point!” Ginny exclaimed, reaching over to pat Luna on the arm. When Hermione still didn’t move, she shot her a sweet smile and made a shooing motion with her hand.
“Off you go, then.”
Reluctantly, the brunette left the compartment and glanced around. She remained glued to her spot for a few minutes, unsure if she was ready for the conversation she was about to have. Refusing to look like an idiot standing in the hallway for forever, she slowly started making her way down the corridor, peering through the windows of the closed doors. Many students, especially the younger ones, went wide-eyed and started whispering to their friends when they spotted her. She simply smiled at them and briskly continued on her way, passing an empty compartment to her right.
It wasn’t until she was a few meters further down the aisle that she realized how odd that was. From what she remembered from her previous train rides to Hogwarts, there had never been the chance for her to sit somewhere alone to read, she’d always had to share.
She backtracked and pulled the door open, coming face to face with Malfoy, Parkinson, Zabini, the elder Greengrass sister, and her own twin brother who was still utterly unaware of their connection. The presumable conversation that had been going on before had ceased and everyone was staring at her, with the exception of Malfoy who seemed to have spotted something extremely interesting on the floor.
“Neat spell,” she said. “Nott. A word?”
The wizard in question became wide-eyed with confusion, before quickly schooling his features back into those of indifference. He nodded and turned to follow her, closing the door behind them as he stepped out.
She led him back to her compartment and as soon as she took sight of them, Ginny ushered Luna and Neville out of it under the guise of finding the trolley witch to buy some treats.
Once they were settled inside, Hermione cast various privacy spells, something that took her back to all the times she had done it during the war. She shook her head slightly to clear it of the memories, swiftly turning to face the man across from her who had a questioning look on his face yet again.
“I know we have never really talked before, but I have learned something recently and I think it is only fair for me to share it with you.”
She handed him her - their - mother’s journal and he took it, making no move to open it.
“Well, go on, read it,” she huffed, somewhat impatiently. “You’re not going to find out anything by staring at the cover.”
The hint of a smile grazed his lips at her barely concealed annoyance, though he opened the book nevertheless and began to study the pages.
She watched him nervously, his reaction ranging from confused over sad to angry. Finally, he looked up at her, unshed tears welling up in his eyes.
“That vile arsehole,” he grit out, before standing and tugging her up from her seat into a tight hug. She stiffened at first, but after a few seconds, she allowed herself to melt into the embrace. He clung to her like a man drowning that had finally reached the shore.
When he pulled away and sat back down, she noted the raw, unadulterated anger on his face, although she was fairly certain it wasn’t directed at her.
“Are you okay?” she asked after a few minutes, breaking the somewhat comfortable silence they had fallen into.
“Am I okay?” he repeated back at her incredulously. “I’m just glad the wanker finally got what he deserved, which is rotting in hell. You’re the one that had her entire life turned upside down. I take it you won’t want to be called Valerie?”
“No, I don’t think I’m ready for that. To be honest, I don’t know if I ever will be. I know our mother chose my name for a reason, but I’ve been going by Hermione for so long… Though I suppose I should call you Theodore now, rather than Nott.”
“Merlin no.” He shuddered at the thought. “Please call me Theo. It’s bad enough our DNA contains half of his genes, I don’t need to share our father’s name as well.”
“Alright, Theo,” she laughed, confused when she saw his expression growing serious.
“I want to apologize, Hermione, for the part that I played during the war. I won’t lie and say that I never held any prejudice towards Muggles or Muggleborns, but I truly never wanted it to escalate like that.”
“What changed your mind?” she asked, and when he looked at her questioningly, she added, “about your prejudice.”
“I think it was the war, actually. When I saw what people suffered through simply due to their 'impure' blood, I asked myself if it was really worth it. Why were some people considered better than others merely because of who their parents are? It’s not something you can control.”
She reached out to take his hand. “The same thing applies to you. You can’t control whether your parents are Death Eaters. What you had to do during the war isn’t your fault.”
Smiling at her, Theo squeezed her hand. “Is it alright if I introduce you to my friends sometime? I know you’ve met before, but I’m not the only one the war has changed.”
Hermione took some time to contemplate his request. Zabini and Greengrass, she didn’t really have a problem with. Parkinson would take some effort, but she wouldn’t be nearly as bad as Malfoy. She needed to know for sure if his views on Muggleborns had changed for the better, never mind that she was a Pureblood now. The events that had taken place at Malfoy Manor in March had scarred her permanently, and not just in a physical way. He was part of her recurring nightmare, his gray eyes boring into her soul as he watched her being tortured. Maybe knowing that his prejudices truly had vanished would grant her some relief from the living hell that she had to face almost every night.
“Fine. Under one condition: you won’t tell them I’m your sister.”