Chapter Three
Her mother was a beautiful woman. She would sing songs day and night, a song filled with hope and faith for the better day to come when there were so few things to look forward to then.
And her mother would gaze down at her with those eyes that were always with so much hope she thought she was going to cry right then, as she sat on the wooden rocking chair by the window on the second floor of the house, at the little hope of her own little world. Her little Hope, one of the many things her dark-haired father had left behind when he had disappeared somewhere she didn't know (Hope refused to say had died, for unless she saw it with her own two eyes, she refused to accept such a thing).
Hope Black was a quiet girl even as a small child. She only seldom cried, only seldom threw a tantrum. But her laughs were brighter than any sun on any planet, filling the room like a sunshine and rainbows.
Hope Black had loved her mother very dearly, and the little brother that would soon come into the world; little Harry with his grass-like green eyes that reflected her mother's eyes so clearly, and who would come to love her just as dearly very soon. If not as the sister who would always be connected to him in the ways he couldn't even begin to understand, then as the best friend she would always be grateful to have.
"Soon, my darling," Her mother would say with the sweetest smile on her face as she rocked her head back and forth swiftly with the use of the chair, "The world would change, and we all would be free to live as we are, without a fear."
Her mother was one of the most amazing, brilliant women Hope would ever had the fortune to meet, even if there would come a time in her life when she wouldn't remember her to be the mother she would always have deep within her dear heart, even when her mother was long dead. But there would come a time when Hope would find out the truth about everything once again, the truth about her heritage and every little thing her parents had sacrificed for her sake alone.
And that time would come very soon, if not today.
CHAPTER THREE
SEPTEMBER 20, 1996
HOGWARTS, SCOTLAND
Hope awoke with a start in the midst of the people she both knew and would continue to love for a very long time, gasping loudly as she blinked her eyes open, somehow finding herself meeting those familiar green eyes of her littlest brother.
"Harry." She breathed hard as she sat on the hospital bed with her heart throbbing unusually hard in her chest, as she remembered every little she had talked about with Professor Slughorn back in his office. Harry was her little brother. They were a family now, in more ways than just one. "How did I end up here?"
"You collapsed." Harry explained casually, scratching the back of his head in that way he always did every time he had something very important to talk about with her.
He then turned to everyone else (to Ronald who was wearing the most concerned expression on his face, to Ginevra Weasley who was, and would always be the best girl-friend she would ever have, and to Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom who were wearing almost identical concerned, but confused looks on their faces) and asked them in a quite a tired, hushed voice. "Can we have a minute? I have something to talk with her. It's very important."
In the back of her mind, Hope vaguely thought she remembered someone that looked a lot like James Potter in that dream she once had a very long time ago. She had thought nothing of it then, but now that she knew everything she once did? She knew it had been very important.
He was a tall, tired looking man who had always been kind enough to her, if a little too distant. Hope had never regarded him to be her father, even a second one. That reward would always go to her own father whom she may have never had the chance to meet before he had disappeared god knows where, but whom she would always regard to be her one and only father.
"So, this is awkward." Harry started sheepishly, refusing to meet her eyes. Honestly. If one didn't know any better, they would think they were exes that were meeting after years of an absence when they found out they were actually siblings due to the series of circumstances that were far too complicated, and dramatic for her taste. Sort of like that soap opera she had watched once as a little kid.
"You are my sister, my maternal half-sister. Therefore, you are an orphan now. Just like me. You are Sirius' niece, and your dad is missing."
Harry was doing way better than she ever thought she would.
"Speaking of Sirius, how is he doing? Enjoying the freedom he had been given?" Sirius was her uncle? She only thought he was some distant relative of hers, or something. Now, that was something she should dwell on the later time. "He isn't hitting on the nurses too much, is he?"
How did her father deal with him? Was he always like that? Hitting on the people like it was his goddamn job to seduce them?
"Are you kidding? He is so hitting on the nurses right now. I mean, I love the man like a second father, but it's in his nature to hit on anybody with legs."
"Unless it's Snape."
Harry made a face. "Oh God, Hermione! I didn't need that visual in my head. Now, I won't be able to think of anything else." And again, he made a disgusted face, and then softened, looking at her with a tight smile. "I think we should tell him."
"I think we should wait. At least until he's out of the hospital. We don't wish for him to prolong his already prolonged enough hospital stay, do we? I mean, what if he suddenly has a heart attack or something? I don't know about you, but I really don't want to lose my paternal uncle because of a heart attack and--oh, my god, Petunia Evans is my aunt now."
It was a disturbing thought.
She had heard enough horrible things about her to never wish to meet her ever.
"Maybe you should meet her?" Harry suggested in the good humor, "Who knows? Maybe she'll like you better than me. I don't think she liked my father very much."
"Please. Let's be real. How would our fathers be any different in her eyes? Both are pureblood wizards of a good wizarding blood. She would totally try to murder me."
"Hermione - "
"Hope, little brother. My name is Hope."
"Hope, what are you going to do right now?"
She bit her lips hard, considering her words. "Well, if we weren't in the middle of the war, I would have said I would go looking for my father, but alas here we are. So, I am going to help you win this war, and then, look for my dad. If he survived all those years, he can survive another decade."
Harry gazed at her softly, uncertainly. As if he weren't certain his next words wouldn't offend her somehow. "Do you really think he's alive? I mean, don't get me wrong, sister. It really would be great if he was still alive, but it had been over a decade since had disappeared. If you ask me, the chance he could be alive is really, really low."
"I can only hope, Harry. And even if it turns out he's actually dead, at least then, I would know for certain."
Harry nodded his head in the agreement and then grinned at her boyishly, as if there was something he knew that she did not. "Did you know, Her... Hope? Your dad was the seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch Team. And apparently, from what I've heard from Professor McGonagall, he was one of the best players during that time." He sounded giddy, almost like a child he had never been.
"I mean, can you believe it? A man good enough at Quidditch that people were asking if he planned to play it professionally after Hogwarts when he was still a thirteen-year-old kid, and then there's his daughter. Hating it with a passion."
"You misunderstand. I do not hate Quidditch. I simply dislike it, and how people always seem to get into really unnecessary fights and arguments because of it."
"Hope?" She hummed happily and lifted her head to gaze up his eyes, and smiled at him sweetly, the way her mother had done in that one memory she had of her mother. Rocking her chair back and forth with little Hope in her arms, as she would seldom gaze protectively at her belly, at her little brother. "I really am glad you are my sister."
Hope brightened up immediately, and before Harry could even speak in his protest, she had enveloped in a hug. She hugged his shoulders tightly for the dear life. He was her dearest brother, and she wasn't willing to lose him just because some old man with death issues wished him dead. "I love you, little brother." She whispered against the crone of his neck, and -- "Are you wearing a cologne? Since when do you wear a cologne?"
Harry made a face. "Oh, shut up!"
Hope grinned happily against the crone of his neck and let go of him and his shoulders, only to see different pairs of eyes watching them not so discreetly from the door. "I can see you all, you know." She then added, "Very clearly."
Ginevra waltzed into the room very gracefully and stopped by her bedside, hugging her around her waist with a big, wide smile on her pretty face. "Hermione, we were so worried!" She pouted, brown eyes meeting her own brown ones from across the bed. "You don't know all the places my mind went off to when I've heard you've collapsed. Like, did someone knock her up? Merlin, did she have a cancer? Some sort of a disorder?"
"That doesn't make any sense." She made sure to tell her. "Pregnancy doesn't make people collapse."
"That's' not the point, Hermione! The point is that we were all very worried, me most of all."
"We thought she was going to cry when you didn't wake up." Luna teased their ginger friend with a small, dreamy smile on her face. "I must admit, it was quite hilarious. Not as hilarious as that time when my cousin decided to get pissed drunk on his birthday, of course."
She didn't know anything about that cousin Luna always kept talking about. Other than the fact his father was a huge asshole, and he had a tendency to get drunk when he was feeling lonely.
"Oh my god, you spent your birthday in the hospital wing!" Ginevra shrieked loudly, loud enough for everyone in the goddamn school to hear. "We have to celebrate it right now. Come on, everyone! Get moving! We have a birthday party to prepare!"
"You don't have to - "
But Ginny was already out of the door, ordering people around like she always did when it came down to the parties. "And, she's gone." Ronald commented and gazed down at her from across the room with a small, hopeful smile. "Hermione - "
"I am glad you are here, Ronald."
"So, Harry's your brother now? Like, officially?" He glanced at Harry who was very busy talking with a very pretty girl that looked distinctly like Daphne Greengrass, one of Malfoy's best friends.
"It's in the blood and everything. If you know what I mean."
He let out a fake, loud laugh. Like they just shared some really secretive joke. "Oh, yeah." He said. "Are you disappointed?"
Hermione blinked her eyes confusedly. "What exactly do you mean?"
"Hermione, didn't you like Harry?"
Was he suggesting that she liked him as more than a brother? "Yes, like a brother."
"Really? I thought - "
"Well, you thought wrong."
Ronald let out a small, satisfied smile. "I'll see you in the common room, then?" he asked.
"Of course."
And then he was gone, and she was left alone with her thoughts and Harry there trying to flirt with Greengrass there somewhat awkwardly. Smooth, Harry, she thought. Real smooth.
September 20, 1996
Hogwarts, Scotland
"Draconis, the dark lord is getting very impatient as this month's end nears. I do hope you have found a way to secure a passage to the Hogwarts. I really do hope, son. Otherwise, I fear we won't like the end results very much. And I really am not willing to having to suffer through your incompetence. Do not disappoint me again, Draconis. Your father, L.A.M." Theodore Nott spoke half-mockingly, half-cheeringly. It made his father sound like a complete clown, despite the usual hard words. See? He knew there was a very good reason why Theodore Nott was one of his best friends.
Draco Malfoy really hated his father. He had just forgotten exactly how much until now. Exactly how much time he had wasted on trying to impress a man who would never see him as nothing more than a huge disappointment, a failure of a son. His father had always been something of a judge, only there to point all the ways he failed to be the perfect pureblood heir he always wished for him to be. Not smart enough. Not cruel enough. Not cunning enough. And more, all the flaws his father could use against him, all the ways he would always fail short compared to the others. So unlike his darling, loving mother.
"Let's murder him." Theodore suggested ever so casually all of a sudden, all innocent eyes and naïve smile. One would never think he was someone who would suggest such a thing at the first glance. He was like an adorably cute puppy you see on the store, innocent at the first glance, but deeply angry and frustrated inside. If given a chance, he would bite you to the death.
Pansy chocked on her whiskey in the response, looking quite blue at the moment. "Theodore, you fucking ass-hat!" she looked ready to murder their resident murder planner. "Warn me before you say something like that."
Theodore ignored her completely. "I mean, we can all agree that he is an enormous asshole who deserves to be murdered for the good of the world."
"For the good of the world?" Daphne snorted into her drink, far too amused than she had any right to be given their current situation. Also, there was the fact Blaise had seen her chatting around with Potter like pals.
"Blaise said he saw you chatting around with Potter early this morning, Daphne." Pansy started, and he gave her a warning look, shaking his head disapprovingly. How was that any of their business? If she wished to shag Potter, she was welcome. For Salazar's sake, they were Slytherins. Not nosy little Ravenclaws who drag their nose where it doesn't belong. "What's up with that? He is so not your type."
Daphne arched an eyebrow, no longer in the joking mood. "Who's my type then? Care to enlighten me?"
"Daphne, are you really saying you want to be Potter's little girlfriend? Wait for him as he defeats the dark lord for the good, and become Mrs. The-Boy-Who-Would-Not-Die? Believe me, you don't want that kind of life."
Daphne stood up in the rage and Draco looked out of the door, looking for an escape. "How do you even know what kind of life I want?" she snapped loudly. "Maybe I am that kind of girl. Maybe I actually do want that kind of life!"
"Because I know you!" Now, Pansy was standing on her feet, her pretty face reddening in the rage. "And this is not you! You thrive an adventure, not to stay home or in some shitty hotel waiting for a stupid boy like some damsel in the distress."
"You are the one to talk." Daphne lifted her nose upward disdainfully. "You are the one pining after a stupid man like a stupid love-sick girl. Please. Get real, Pansy. He would never look at you in that way. He's a man, and what are you? A stupid girl with stupid fantasies."
Pansy gasped loudly at her friend in the disbelief, "How dare you?" she breathed, letting out the words like it hurt to even speak. "I was only trying to look out for you."
Daphne looked as she couldn't believe she had said those words either. "Pansy, I - "
But Pansy was already stalking away, her high heels making a loud sound against the wooden piles of the floor. "Draco, what have I done?" He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder in the silence, because he was really terrible at comforting people. If he have said anything right now, he would probably end up making her feel worse. And goddamn it, he was going to say something really stupid right now. "If it means anything to you, you are free to shag or marry whoever you want, Daphne."
Daphne gave him a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Draco." She then asked. "You really don't mind if I wish to--I mean, you've never liked him much from the start, Draco. "
"It's not any of my business whom you decide to shag, Daphne." He said and then added, "Besides, I can't have you using that against me just in the case I also decide I want to shag a Gryffindor for some stupid reason."
Daphne giggled, and then softened, gazing up at him pleadingly. "Can you talk to Pansy?" she asked.
When did he become a fucking therapist?
"Of course." He smiled, and dragging Theodore along by the crook of his school robes, walked to the girls' dormitory in the silence. If he were to deal with an angry Pansy, he needed an accomplice. "Pansy?" he asked, knocking on the door twice.
"Go away, you traitorous fucker."
"We are going inside."
He crooked open the door and there she was crying on the bed with her legs crossed, her make-up gone dry. "I've told you to go away." She snapped immediately. "Since when were you the one who went out of his way to comfort people, Draco? You hate having anything to do with people's feelings, Draco. You always did. Ever since we were children."
"To be fair though, Pansy, he was his father's little bitch then." Theodore added, not helping the situation at all. "Now, he's an independent man."
"I am not doing this with you. Either of you, okay? You are not my fucking therapist."
"Come on, Parkinson. It would be just like the old times. We can even paint our nails if you like." Theodore jumped on the bed a little too happily for someone who wasn't supposed to be there. Boys weren't allowed in the girls' room, unless they invited inside. And Pansy had yet to revoke their invitation."In pink, if you wish. Even if we both dislike that color with a passion."
That made her laugh, and then she mumbled something inaudible under her breath.
"I'm sorry, but what?"
"I said I knew he won't come to see that way no matter how hard I try. Marcus, he doesn't like people like me. I am not his type. But it's not really pleasant to hear that said out loud, you know? Daphne had no right to say that to me. I am still nursing a wounded, broken soul."
"Then what is his type?" Theodore asked curiously.
"Oliver Wood."
Theodore coughed immediately in the surprise, gaping openly at Pansy. "He's gay?" he asked. "Like our mate Blaise?"
Draco turned to Theodore, arching his eyebrow. "You didn't know?" he asked.
How could anyone not know?
"Not everyone spends their time observing people so they could use it to blackmail people, Draco."
"Anyway, enough about that." She brightened up, changing the subject in a desperate attempt to divert her mind from Marcus Flint. "Have you heard about Hermione Granger, our resident boy wonder's half-sister?"
"Then you would be interested to know just with whom did Mrs. Lily Evans had gone and shagged up with, wouldn't you?" She grinned happily in the knowledge she'd caught their attention. "Apparently, according to Daphne's father, anyway. Granger's father and Daphne's father were really good friends back in the day, despite the three years age difference. He'd attended their wedding and all."
"Pansy. Just tell us. You have us dying out of curiosity here."
"Regulus Black." She told them brightly, cheeks widening with a wide grin. "That's right. Hermione Granger is now the heiress to the Black family fortune. She is the Black heiress."
Draco stood up, blinking his eyes confusedly. "I think I need to write to mother."
And he stalked away to his room, desperate for a pen to write on. When he was a child, she would always talk about her dearest, late cousin who had died so young, so suddenly. She had the right to know his blood was still alive out here in this world.
Here is just a little something in the case anyone wants to know. Sirius Black is very much alive. He'd just gotten injured from the duel with Bellatrix and he's currently staying in St. Mungo's, well flirting with people left and right. Because I refuse to accept Sirius is dead, and because he has a very important role in the story. Anyway, in the case anyone's interested, I'm looking for someone to beta my story. PM me if you are interested.