The Sister
Hermione stared at the woman sitting across from her. She’d just turned into a cat! And she was telling her that she was a witch, and oh! Everything all made much more sense. All those strange things she did, all those things no one could explain that she knew, even if neither of them said it, frightened her parents.
“I'm sure this is a lot to take in,” Minerva smiled gently, not quite sure what to make of the unease on the Granger's faces, “but do you have any questions?”
“Is there a way to test to see what family someone comes from?” Hermione blurted.
Both Minerva and the Grangers froze. “I’m sure we talked about this sweetheart,” her mother chided after a beat. “We don't think it's a good idea to look right now. When you're older, perhaps.”
Hermione sighed, she knew they didn't want her to look for her birth parents but she didn't understand why. They were her parents, and that wasn't going to change. She just…wanted to know.
“Might I ask why, Miss Granger?” Minerva asked curiously as wide brown eyes stared back at her, making her breath catch. Those eyes were startlingly familiar. She dismissed the idea as impossible immediately.
“It's just, I’m adopted Professor and I just wondered if I’m a witch because one or both of my birth parents have magic,” she sighed, seeing the look on her parent's faces, wanting to promise to wait but not wanting to lie to them.
Minerva bit back a sigh of her own, as much as it pained her to admit, life at Hogwarts would undoubtedly be easier for the child if she wasn’t muggleborn. “Well if you change your mind about checking sooner rather than later, Gringotts would be the place to ask.”
“The Bank?” Hermione frowned.
“Yes, they often check for inheritances.” Minerva smiled. “Now, would Friday suit you to visit Diagon Alley for your school things?”
The Drs Granger exchanged uneasy glances. “We’ll be at work, Ms McGonagall. Perhaps a weekend?”
“We can, however, I am escorting another child on Friday, his parents are also unable to join us. I am more than happy to take Hermione with us.”
“Fine.” Laura Granger sighed, still sounding unsure after a silent conversation with her husband. “It might be nice for Hermione to meet someone else in the same situation.”
“In that case, I shall take my leave. Miss Granger I shall see you on Friday. Please be ready for nine. Mr, Mrs Granger, within the information I have left you there are instructions on how to contact me, please don't hesitate to get in touch if you need to.”
Hermione was bouncing on Friday morning, desperate for Professor McGonagall to arrive and utterly unable to sit still. Stepping into the living room, her mother stopped in front of her, an apprehensive look on her face, “Remember to mind your manners,” she instructed, “Listen to Ms McGongall and don't wander off. Your purse is in your bag, be careful with it.”
“Yes Mum,” Hermione agreed.
“Well…have fun. I’m sure we’ll hear all about it when you get back.” Laura gave her a tight smile, pulling her to her feet before hugging her tightly.
“It's going to be fine, Mum.”
“Is it?” she asked looking teary, “We hadn't planned on boarding school! Especially one we can't even see!”
Hermione bit her lip, not sure what the correct response to that was before her mother sighed, “It’ll just take a little while to adjust our thinking,” she murmured, running a hand over her daughter's hair, attempting to smooth it down. “I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time at school with other children like you.” Attempting a smile, she nudged Hermione, “And who knows, maybe you’ll turn into an animal one day too, there's not many people who can say their daughter is also something else…” she tugged on one of Hermione's curls, “a lion perhaps?”
Hermione laughed, “Or maybe a bird of some sort and then I’ll never need to take another bus again!”
With a fond smile, Laura hugged her again, “I do hope you have fun today, and so does your dad, even if we’ve seemed…”
“It's fine Mum,” Hermione interrupted, “I know. It's not exactly normal.”
Laura shrugged, “Normal's boring,” she teased, coaxing a smile from her Hermione.
“Ah, Miss Granger.” Minerva smiled at the miniature witch who was barely keeping a lid on her excitement. “This is Mr Thomas, he’ll be joining us today.”
“Dean.” the boy offered with a shy smile.
“Hermione,” she replied with a shy smile of her own.
“Well then, shall we go?” Minvera asked pointedly.
With a nod, Hermione scrambled to lock the door, before looking at the witch expectantly.
“We’re going to take the Knight bus.” she informed them, "watch carefully.”
Both Hermione and Dean watched expectantly as she held out her wand, jumping when a large purple bus appeared in front of them. “On you get,” Minerva instructed with an amused witch of her lips. “And hold on.”
Exiting the bus shakily, Hermione and Dean took gulping breaths, “That was awful!” Dean muttered.
“Yes, it's not the most…pleasant mode of transport,” Minerva agreed “But it is efficient. Now, I brought you here because next year, when your parents accompany you, you need to know where to go," she gestured to the building in front of her, "This is the Leaky Cauldron and we are on Charing Cross road. Your parents will be unable to see it however, they will be able to join you as long as you're touching them to get through the wards. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Professor,” they agreed, eyeing the Leaky with barely concealed apprehension.
“Well then, shall we?”
Silently they both followed, taking in the dingy pub and its occupants as Minerva led them out the back, talking them through how to get into the Alley.
“Wow,” they breathed in tandem when the bricks moved, revealing the bustling street on the other side.
“Quite,” Minerva replied, looking amused. “Now, Gringotts first and then we will attend to that list.”
“Yes Professor”, they chorused, following her out onto the street and up the stairs to the bank.
“Now, mind your manners, the goblins can take offence easily. So be polite.”
They nodded, eyes blown wide as they darted around the vast interior of the bank, trailing after her slowly as she made her way up to the counter.
“Madam McGonagall,” the goblin greeted.
“Griphook.” Minerva inclined her head.
“Muggleborns?” he queried, peering down at the children.
“Indeed. This is Miss Granger and Mr Thomas. Both wish to exchange pounds.”
“Very well," Griphook nodded, "Mr Thomas if you please.”
Dean shot a panicked look at Hermione as she and Minerva stepped back. Thankfully, the process was quick and with a sigh of relief, he joined them moments later, a sack of coins in his hand.
“Miss Granger,” the goblin gestured her forward.
With shaking hands, Hermione pulled out the money her parents had given her. “Mr Griphook, Sir?” she asked hesitantly, startling him.
“Just Griphook,” he corrected. “We don't have titles here.”
“Oh. Sorry! I ah…Professor McGonagall said that if I wanted to check if I had magical family I should ask here?”
“And do you think you have magical family, witchling?” he asked with amusement.
“I don't know,” Hermione admitted in a small voice, wondering how cross her parents were going to be if they ever found out, “But I'm adopted and it seemed like a logical place to start.”
“I see,” he mused. “Very well. Give me your hand.”
“My hand, Sir?” she squeaked, seeing the knife in the hand he wasn't holding out for hers.
“Yes, your hand,” he replied with enough impatience for Hermione to comply.
She jumped when he drew the knife over the tip of her thumb, squeezing drops of blood over the parchment. “Interesting,” he mused.
“What is?” she asked, feeling her heart pounding as she waited on his answer.
Silently he handed her both parchment and money bag. “Your brother teaches at Hogwarts, Miss Granger. I imagine he’ll be rather surprised by you.”
Hermione blinked looking down at the piece of parchment where her name was linked to Eileen Prince and Tobias Snape, both deceased. Another line joined her to a brother. A much, much older brother. Severus Tobias Snape. “He won't be pleased.” she guessed, reading something in the goblin's tone.
Griphook smiled, showing all his pointed teeth. “Wizards occasionally surprise us. But perhaps…if you’ll take the advice of a goblin, it would be wise to keep this news to yourself until you’ve met the wizard personally.”
Slowly Hermione nodded, “I..I can do that.” she agreed, not noticing his clear surprise at her acceptance. “Thank you for your help.”
The goblin huffed, “You're an unusual witch Miss Granger. I do hope I’m wrong about your brother.”
She nodded, heading back towards Professor McGonagall and Dean. “How come they cut your hand?” Dean blurted, when she joined them, “They didn't with me.”
“Oh,” Hermione flushed, “I ah, asked them to check something for me”
“And did you get an answer?” Minerva asked curiously.
Reluctantly, Hermione nodded, “I ah… haven't decided what to do with it.” she murmured.
“I see,” Minerva replied, desperately wanting to question her further but deciding this wasn’t the time. “Well then. Shall we get started on that list? Robes first?”
Dean and Hermione nodded, following her out of the bank.
“Do you have everything?” David asked, running his eyes over his only child.
“I think so,” Hermione murmured, trying to hide her nerves.
“Right then.” he nodded, “Right. So we just…walk at that wall?”
“Apparently,” Hermione agreed, not moving.
“Come on,” Laura nudged her gently, “It wouldn't do to miss the train.”
Letting out a long breath, Hermione squared her shoulders, watching as her parents put a hand on the cart as Professor McGonagall had instructed before walking determinedly at the wall between platforms 9 and 10.
“Oh, my god,” David muttered as the wall gave way to a bustling, crowded platform.
They stood, taking it all in for several minutes before he cleared his throat, “Let's get you settled then.”
With last hugs, and promises to write, Hermione sat back on the seat, wondering what Hogwarts would be like, wondering if she’d have friends this time, wondering if Griphook was right.
Several hours later, Hermione sat with her new House's, her eyes scanning the teacher's table. There were only three men and one of them couldn't possibly be her brother. She wondered idly which of the other two it was until the one dressed in black turned letting her see his face properly. It had to be him then; they had the same eyes. Scanning his face she searched for a hint of any other similarities, finding none. He looked cross, really, like something out of a childhood nightmare, glowering and dark with a clear aura of danger. She could hear whispered explanations from the other students to the incoming First years, warning them against upsetting the notoriously prickly Professor Snape. Suddenly glad she’d heeded Griphook's advice, Hermione turned away. She ignored the small traitorous part of her that hoped they were all wrong in their condemnation of him.
One potions class was all it took for her to realise that her first impressions and school gossip had sadly not been incorrect. Her brother was awful. Berating Harry, terrifying Neville and chastising her. It was all she could do not to cry. Perhaps her parents had been right after all. She wished she had listened. Forcefully, she shoved the knowledge to the back of her mind. It would do no good to dwell on it. No one would ever need to know.
Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk with a sigh. Three first years taking on a troll. It was madness. That they had lived to tell the tale was beyond astounding. He let himself sit for a moment, compartmentalising the night. The sight of a mountain troll in the girls' bathroom, knocked out by three first years was something he never wanted to see again. Severus had, of course, not believed a word of their story and Minerva had been too shaken to argue with him coherently. Now he had to inform the Weasleys, a job he was not looking forward to. Molly would be incandescent. At least the guardians of the other two children would not be disturbed by the news. And while he had originally argued against it, this time, only having to inform the child's magical guardian worked in his favour.
He folded the parchment containing his note to Arthur, sending it off with a house elf to post before realising the school's magic was still pushing him. With a jolt of concern, he wondered if somewhere Sirius Black was still considered Harry's guardian. It was the only explanation he could think of.
Stepping out from behind his desk, he pressed the hidden catch in the wall that revealed the Book of Names, skimming through it until he found Harry. Curious. He was definitely listed as the boy's guardian. Which left…he frowned as he searched for Miss Granger's name, his jaw dropping in surprise when he finally found her.
Hermione Jean Granger
19th September 1979
Parents: Eileen Prince & Tobias Snape. Deceased.
Laura Young & David Granger- adopted.
Magical Guardian: Severus Tobias Snape.
“Milly!” he called, waiting until the elf appeared in front of him. “Bring me Professor Snape and ah…Professor McGonagall.”
Ten minutes later both professors were in front of him. “Albus?” Minerva asked, looking at him with concern. “What is the matter?”
“As you know,” he began softly, “We must inform the magical guardian of students if there is an incident. There's leeway of course but, nevertheless, they must be told something.”
“Is there a point?” Severus sighed, he looked wretched. He always did on Halloween. "We are both aware."
“I should be listed as guardian for two of the children.” He watched as Minerva froze. “That I am not is not news to you?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Not entirely,” she sighed, “Miss Granger had an inheritance test performed at Gringotts. She did not, however, divulge what she learned.”
“Ah,” he nodded, slowly. “I see.”
“So Miss Granger has a magical guardian that is not the Headmaster," Severus interjected impatiently. "There is no reason why I need to be here. Inform them.”
“Well…”Albus muttered before he could stand to leave, “It would appear that you are Miss Granger's magical guardian”
“What nonsense is this?” Severus hissed.
“I knew her eyes were familiar,” Minerva muttered as Albus thrust the book into his hands, watching as he paled.
“That's…that's not possible!”
“And yet it is. I have no idea what happened, Severus, but the book cannot lie.” Albus replied gently.
“No.” he barked. “Absolutely not!”
“Severus!” Albus called after him beseechingly as he stood abruptly and fled in a swirl of robes.
Severus sat in his rooms nursing a rum, wondering how the bloody fuck he had missed his mother being pregnant. She had to have given birth not long before she died and while he knew he hadn't been around a lot then, he had still seen the woman. So how the fuck had she hidden it? It didn't make sense. None of it made sense.
It scared him more than he wanted to admit that he was curious about the girl, he didn't want to be curious. But even he could see that she was struggling to fit in here, it was a feeling he knew all too well. Merlin, he had already realised she reminded him uncomfortably of himself, socially awkward, still eager to please but not quite sure how, too intelligent, too focused for the other students to warm to, it was part of the reason he was so impatient with her. He gave a mirthless laugh as he wondered if it was fucking genetic.
“What are you going to do?” Minerva asked softly, startling him.
He blinked, “How did you get in?”
She rolled her eyes as she sat down, “Your wards are good Severus Snape, but mine are better.”
He snorted, “Fine. What am I going to do about what?”
“Miss Granger!” she exclaimed impatiently.
“I don't know,” he sighed, remembering every interaction with the girl he'd had. He had not been kind. “Why the hell would she want anything to do with me?”
“I don't know that she does,” Minerva admitted reluctantly, “But neither do you.”
“Right,” he muttered, trying to work out how he felt about that. He didn't like people. He liked children even less. And he couldn't ignore that she knew. The girl knew and hadn't mentioned anything. Not that he was sure he could blame her. But still, weren't Gryffindors meant to be brave?
Minerva arched a brow at him. “I think it's a good thing,” she announced.
He turned to look at her incredulously. “How?” he demanded.
“You could do with some family,” she replied bluntly. “And Miss Granger…is struggling to fit in in this world. You could help with that.”
“I could help with that?” he scoffed. “The minute those little cretins hear she's related to me they’ll be worse than they are currently.”
“Not necessarily,” Minerva contradicted. “She won't be muggleborn meaning your snakes would be free to interact with her.”
“My snakes?” he asked, now thoroughly confused.
“Well yes. Intellectually she's on par with Mr Malfoy and Miss Greengrass, neither will approach a muggleborn, but a half-blood related to you? It’ll open doors otherwise closed to her.”
“She has muggle parents!” he hissed.
“Yes, and might go some way to disproving many notions about muggles. How many purebloods have actually interacted with one?”
Severus made a discontented noise at the back of his throat. “Fine.” he muttered, “But when she politely tells me to piss off, I get to say I told you so.”
Minerva rolled her eyes but refrained from comment.
“Miss Granger, remain here,” he instructed as the class rushed for the door. He noticed Potter and Weasely shooting her concerned looks and wondered when the fuck that horrific friendship had happened.
“Sir?” she murmured as he banged the door shut.
“Sit,” he commanded, pointing to the seat at the edge of his desk. With frightened eyes, she complied, watching him warily. “I was made aware of some information you discovered before the beginning of term.”
“Oh?” she muttered.
“Miss Granger,” he growled, “I know you are not an idiot. Do not start behaving like one now.”
She squeaked before her shoulders seemed to slump. “Fine. Although I don't understand what you want.”
He paused, “Neither do I.” he admitted, cursing Minerva. “However I felt that the information at least required a conversation.”
“I see,” she murmured, “What was it you wanted to say?”
He almost laughed at the brat, what did he want to say indeed. He had no fucking idea. “Do you wish to…get to know me?”
“Oh, I assumed you wouldn't want anything to do with me,” she returned with a frown.
He shrugged, “I have no family and it was pointed out to me that your…transition to Hogwarts has been challenging. I can help.”
“You can?”
“Yes. There are many things that rightly or wrongly muggleborns are not taught. I have been here long enough to know them. If you’d like, I can teach you.”
She blinked, “I…I see. Why aren't muggleborns taught?”
Severus sighed, not really wanting to get into this, “Because our world is controlled by privileged few,” he muttered.
“Like the muggle world then?” she mused.
“In many ways, I suppose so.” he agreed. “Privilege brings power. Old families are involved in law-making and many of them have never ventured into the muggle world. They fear what they don't understand.”
“Oh. That's what Professor McGonagall meant when she said it would be better if I wasn't muggleborn.”
“She said that?” He gaped.
Hermione nodded, “Yes. She did. I told her I wasn't sure what I was going to do with the information after our trip to Diagon Alley and when she dropped me off she said it was my choice but that blood status was something some people took seriously here. She also said they were wrong and it didn't matter but that didn't mean some people wouldn't use it as an excuse to be horrid. But my parents didn't want me to look into my birth parents. They're…scared I think, so I wasn’t sure whether to just pretend I hadn’t done something they’d asked me not to.”
He hummed, nodding, “I see. Did you tell them?”
“No.” she sighed, “Griphook said that he advised not mentioning it to anyone until I met you. And I… they're going to be so cross.”
Severus sighed, “Our parents are dead, as I’m sure you're aware and I have no intention of bringing up a teenage girl. They have no reason to be afraid.”
Hermione snorted before she could stop it, drawing a reluctant smile to his face. “Will you meet them?” she asked hesitantly.
“I…I do not think it would help.”
She shrugged, “I imagine it’ll make my statement that you’ll never remove me from them believable.”
He arched a brow at her, “Are you always such a brat?”
“I’m not sure how to answer that,” she admitted.
“Fine, I will meet them,” he sighed, “If only to reassure them that they are stuck with you. However you need to know that It is not wrong to want to know where you came from, Hermione. While perhaps you should have discussed it with them further, you did nothing wrong. It is understandable that they would want to protect you from getting hurt or unsuitable people, but it is not their place to forbid you from finding the intonation, however difficult I am sure it is for them.” Hermione nodded slowly, not looking entirely convinced. Deciding it was the best he was getting, “Now, am I to assume that you wish some sort of relationship with me?”
She let out a slow breath, before she nodded her agreement, “Will you tell me about them? Our parents?”
“If you wish, however, I warn you, it is not a pleasant story. You most definitely got the better deal.”
Hermione hummed, “Fine.
Knowing he was about to regret asking, Severus settled into his desk chair, “Well then, what do you want to know?”
He almost laughed as his sister launched into a torrent of questions he struggled to keep up with, and began the unfamiliar act of attempting to answer them.
“What did the greasy git want?” Ron demanded when she finally returned to the common room.
With an uneasy glance around the room, Hermione weighed up her options. She didn't want to lose the first friends she'd ever really had, especially when it was so new, but she wasn't going to lie either.
“Let's sit down,” she murmured.
“Hermione?” Harry frowned, “Are you alright.”
“You have to promise not to freak out,” she begged.
“Alright,” Harry murmured, watching her intently.
“I’m adopted.” she blurted.
“Ok.” Harry nodded.
“Is that why the goblins cut your finger?” Dean asked overhearing.
Hermione jumped, having not realised he was behind them. “Oh. Ah yes.”
He nodded contemplatively, settling himself in the seat next to her before he paused for several seconds. He twisted his body so he was looking at her, a look of horror on his face. “Are you saying you're Snape’s?”
Hermione grimaced, noting the rising colour on Ron's face and the lack of it on Harry's. “No,” she replied slowly.
“Oh thank god,” he muttered, “He's terrifying Hermione. Can you imagine him as your Dad?”
“He's my brother,” she squeaked before he could continue.
All three boys froze. “Say that again,” Dean asked faintly as Harry burst into hysterical laughter surprising them all.
“Sorry,” he muttered as he flushed under their stares. “It's just… unbelievable, isn't it? Snape. You're related to Snape and…Merlin. How do you have the same parents? How did he take it? Has he always known?”
“Ah no.” Hermione stammered, not quite sure what to make of that reaction. “He found out after the troll because he's listed as my magical guardian. He had no idea. But… he's agreed to get to know me. Did you know there's loads of stuff no one tells muggleborns?”
“No,” Dean frowned.
“Well there is!”
“So he's going to teach you?”
“So he says.” she agreed.
Dean nodded contemplatively, “And will you teach me?”
“If you want,” she agreed, startled.
“Why do we need to know this stuff?” Harry asked bewildered.
“You don't,” Ron scoffed, “It's the rules only snotty purebloods like Malfoy follow, no one else pays attention.”
“And even if that was true, those snotty purebloods make most of the laws!” Hermione protested. “How are we meant to change anything if we don't know the rules in the first place?”
Ron looked surprised to see Dean nodding with her. “So you think they're important?” Harry asked hesitantly.
“I don't know,” Hermione groaned, “And that's the point I suppose. I don't even know what they are! Maybe Ron's right and it's all nonsense. But what if it's not? What if we’re doing something unspeakably rude or not doing something means we’re written off before we even begin? It could affect everything!”
Harry sighed, “Right,” he muttered. “I don't think he’ll be impressed with you teaching me though. He hates me.”
Hermione shrugged, “He's already told me he doesn't think we should be friends. I told him it was none of his business.”
“And he let you live ?” Dean exclaimed.
“He appears to have decided I’m a brat.” she shrugged, “It seems to amuse him for some reason. I don't think many people actually stand up to him.”
“We are talking about Snape?” Harry checked, “I wasn't aware he could be anything but angry.”
“I think…” Hermione began hesitantly, knowing that he'd be furious if this conversation ever got back to him. “I think he's lonely and doesn't remember how not to be angry. Apparently, our parents were awful.”
Harry froze, “Right,” he muttered, attempting again to wrap his mind around Hermione and Snape being siblings. It was frankly mind boggling.
Severus stalked towards the Slytherin common room, wondering if he was doing the right thing. Only Minerva's words spurred him forward, convincing him to at least try.
Slamming open the door, he almost smiled when they all jumped. “House meeting. Now!” he barked. “You have ten minutes to round up your classmates.”
Settling into a seat in front of the fire, he watched as they all scurried around, locating lost friends, the prefects ensuring everyone was in attendance. Across from him, his godson watched him with unconcealed confusion.
“All here!” came the call from one of his prefects.
“Good.” he nodded, wondering how the fuck he was going to word this. “Slytherin House has a long-standing tradition of offering its protection to a select few that do not reside within our walls.” There was a rumble of agreement. “As such. I am here to inform you that I have personally taken one such student under my protection, and as a result, yours.”
Several people gaped. He never took anyone under his protection and they knew it.
“My..sister, resides in Gryffindor tower, and as distasteful as I personally find that, she is not to be touched. Am I clear?””
"Your sister?” Draco blurted.
“Indeed.” he let a small smirk take over his face.
“Who is it?” he demanded, clearly running through the Gryffindor girls.
"Hermione Granger.”
He left when the stunned silence descended, catching the swelling of noise that indicated his words had sunk in just before he shut the portrait hole. Allowing himself a smile at the genuine confusion he’d just caused, he wandered back to his rooms, wondering what other sorts of carnage the tiny witch would cause.