Dynasty Obligations | By : Daydreamer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 7969 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 4 |
Disclaimer: I do not make any money from this story, I do not own Harry Potter and the characters, they are all J K's, I simply just borrow the characters, and put them in my own story. |
A/N: I do not own anything in regards to Harry Potter. I have simply borrowed the characters and placed them into my own story.
· I haven’t stopped writing my first fic (Lost in the Music) I am simply writing this little plot bunny down to see what all you people think, the next up date for LITM will be in a few days.
The secrets Families keep
Prologue
Dear Miss Granger,
It is my hope that this letter finds you in the greatest of spirits.
I send my warmest regards to you, on the morning of your 18th Birthday.
This letter is a quick request for you to attend an impromptu meeting in my office at 9am.
Yours Sincerely
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster at Hogwarts
_____________________________________________________________________________
The large white barn owl flew off into the early morning sun after delivering the missive to its intended.
Hermione Granger was up bright and early just like she was every other day, yet today wasn’t just any normal day. No, today was her 18th birthday.
Hermione went about her morning routine; she got out of bed and made her way over to the large shared bathroom, the bathroom that she shared with the head Boy, Draco Malfoy. Hermione smiled at that, not at the fact that she had to share with Malfoy, she hated the ferret faced git, no, she smiled because she was head girl. I title she had coveted ever since she arrived at Hogwarts seven years ago.
With a flick of her wand the two doors that led into the bathroom were locked, she didn’t want to have to relive the horror of having Malfoy walking in on her, again. So now she took extra precautions whenever she would shower, she’d rather die than have Malfoy leering over her naked body, that wasn’t something she wanted to happen ever again.
Showering quickly she stepped out of the large glass cubicle before casting a drying charm over herself, she spelled her hair to fall in neat ringlets before dressing herself in her Hogwarts uniform, her head girl badge shone in the light, catching the rays from the wall mounted lights. Hermione stared back in the mirror at her reflection and was pleased with what she saw, she was no longer the short little girl with a mass of unruly brown frizz for hair and she no longer had teeth that were too big for her mouth, looking back now Hermione realised that in the seven years she’d lived in Hogwarts she had changed beyond recognition. Her hair now hung in dark brown neat curls; her teeth were perfectly white and straight, and as far as height went she’d soon grown when puberty hit, she was now a leggy 5ft10.
Of course Hermione knew that some of her changes, predominantly her hair were down to magic, how she loved being a witch, the most daunting of tasks seemed so much easier with the involvement of magic. After her first year at Hogwarts and the relentless teasing from her fellow students she had begged her parents to allow her to go to a wizarding hairdressers, they had easily complied. They would give their little princess anything her heart would desire; and so on her visit she had arranged for the hairdressing witch to spell her hair into a more manageable hairstyle, the change hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Hermione knew from looking at her reflection that she wasn’t ugly, she wasn’t nearly the prettiest witch in the wizarding world, but she had something. Even still it wasn’t even her appearance that she was being judged on; it would have been easier if that were the case. But the prejudices that lay in her world came down to your blood. And Hermione had dirty blood.
She was a Muggleborn, a witch born to no magical folk, muggles as they referred to them. And although she wasn’t the only Muggleborn within the wizarding world, she received a lot of relentless teasing from her fellow students. All because of Voldemort, the power crazed lunatic who craved the power to annihilate her kind. She frowned at this.
Hermione was the brightest witch of her age, everyone knew that she could solve anything that she put her mind to, she had a thirst for knowledge, to learn more and to be better. For her it was a continuous battle to prove that she was worthy of the magic that ran through her veins. Especially when so many people questioned her existence. She didn’t mind being Muggleborn, she loved her parents, she’d had a fantastic childhood and they had always stood by her decisions, even her decision to fight in the war with Harry. They hadn’t been happy, but they had trusted her. Hermione knew that she was lucky to have come from a family that loved her, thinking about some of her peers she knew that many of them came from loveless homes, her fellow head was an example of this, hell his house was the epitome of it. But even with the slight bullying and the impending war of the dark and the light, Hermione was content with her life.
Un-warding the doors she practically bounced into her room, the letter from the head master lay unravelled on her desk; with a quick glance at the clock above the hearth she began her trip in the direction of the headmaster’s office.
******
Hermione came to a stop in front of a snarling gargoyle that hid the stairway to the headmaster’s office, she whispered the password and watched in awe as the stairs began to reveal themselves and spiral upwards, stepping onto the moving staircase she began the ascent to the eccentric man’s office.
Hermione knocked timidly on the large mahogany door; she waited for the voice of her professor to bid her entry. When she heard the old man’s voice she opened the door to reveal the intricate room.
She made her way through the maze of objects that the professor had collected, Hermione laughed to herself, she definitely thought that the headmaster was a hoarder, he collected things that she believed no longer had a use, but none the less he would keep them with the idea that something good would come of them.
Making her way towards the desk she was greeted by four people, two of the room’s occupants were sat with their backs to her, so she was unable to find out their identity. She looked from the two chairs up into the smiling face of her headmaster, her eyes flicked to the scowling one of Snape, her potions professor.
“Good Morning Miss Granger I hope you are well?” Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling at her.
She smiled brightly. “I am very well headmaster, thank you for asking.” She replied. She noticed that Snape seemed to be sulking more than usual, she was anxious by his presence in the office.
As she neared the chairs she suddenly recognized the two occupants, her parents.
“Mum! Dad!” she screamed running to them happily.
Her mother stood up to embrace her, Hermione looked very much like her mother, they had always been closed and Hermione suddenly realised how much she had missed them.
“Hello Pumpkin.” She enthused stroking her cheek. “Happy Birthday, you’re all grown up.” She said happily. Hermione smiled back at her.
“Happy Birthday, Princess.” Her father said pulling her into a hug which Hermione returned; she had always been a daddy’s girl, for as long as she could remember.
“Right, since everyone is here, I believe we shall start this little meeting.” Dumbledore said. “I’ll just transfigure a seat for you and then we can begin.” He finished, he was just about to raise his wand when Laura Granger stopped him.
“May I do it? It may be easier if I can show her.” She said timidly, Hermione could hear Snape huffing loudly in the background.
“Do what Mum?” she asked, her inquisitive nature coming to the forefront.
Her mother never answered; instead she waved her hand in front of a stack of book that lay on the floor beside the headmaster’s desk. Hermione looked on in shock as the stack of book transfigured into a comfortable looking chair. Hermione’s mother turned to look her in the eye.
“That.” She said simply. It didn’t make sense to Hermione, she could have sworn she had just witnessed her mother do magic, but that couldn’t be possible, she was a muggle.
“What just happened?” she said looking from the chair to her headmaster.
Dumbledore looked apprehensive. “Take a seat Miss Granger, all will be revealed.” He said. Hermione made her way over to the seat slowly, unsure of what to do, she sat down facing the four adults in the room, and immediately four sets of eyes fell on her.
“Miss Granger, what I am about to say, may confuse you but I assure you, what you are about to hear is no lie.” Hermione nodded.
Dumbledore indicated to Hermione’s mother with a wave of his hand, Hermione watched as her mother looked from her father, to Snape and then finally to her.
“Pumpkin, the last 18 years have been so hard for you, you’ve had to grow up in a world that was ignorant to the existence of magic, to be brought up by parents who seemingly knew nothing about it. When you turned 11 and came to Hogwarts you were brought into a world that you never knew existed, a world where you are judged by your blood. It was nothing you had ever known, it was all so knew and exciting for you.” She stopped to look at Dumbledore.
“This world, Hermione. The wizarding world, this is your home, and up until you were born it was my home too.” She said. Hermione looked to Dumbledore.
“I don’t understand, how could it be your home? You’re not a witch.” She said looking back at her mother. Her mother gave a sad smile. “That’s what I’m trying to say. Hermione, I am a witch.” She said taking her daughters hand in her own.
Hermione shook her head, this didn’t make sense, her mother had never done magic, she claimed to know nothing about the world she now lived in, how could she say that she was a witch? Dumbledore looked to Hermione’s face he could see the confusion flickering in her large brown eyes.
“Miss Granger, your mother is telling the truth, she is indeed a witch, in fact she was a student here herself.” He said.
Hermione felt her temper rising, they had lied to her for 18 years, told her that magic didn’t exist up until Professor McGonagall had arrived on her door step, why were they telling her this now?
“Why are you telling me all this now? Why have you never done magic in front of me?” she said angrily.
Her mother looked apologetic “Hermione, you’re 18 today, which means that today you’re legacy inheritance will come into play. So before all of that happens you needed to know the truth. I never used magic near you because up until today I was unable to, you seen I had a curse placed on me to bind my magic, so I would be seen as a muggle.”
“Why?” Hermione asked shocked. “Why was your magic bound?”
Dumbledore stepped forward to answer this question. “It was for your protection, child. Your father saw it to be necessary.” Hermione stood abruptly.
“You didn’t daddy!” she screamed, her father never once raised his eye line to look at Her.
“Hermione please sit down, there is so much more.” Her mother pleaded with her, her warm brown eyes were filling with tears.
“Laura is this completely necessary, you’re going to ruin her life, it’s everything she’s ever known.” Snape said snappishly.
Her mother nodded. “She has to know Severus, we’ve kept it from her far too long.” She said a single tear falling down her rose blushed cheek.
Hermione’s mind was whirling into over drive, her mother and potions professor were on a first name basis, which was unnerving. She was getting fed up, her mind was being overloaded with information, things that were yet to be explained fully and yet Hermione knew that there was still more to come.
“Very well.” Snape drawled.
“Miss Granger, You are aware of your heritage, are you not?” the headmaster asked.
Hermione nodded. “I was, I am made aware of my blood status day in day out but now I’m not so sure. I’ve spent the last seven years being referred to as a Muggleborn, but apparently I am a half blood. Would that be correct?” she asked in a logical manner. The professor shook his head.
“No Miss Granger, you are not a half blood, you are in fact a pure blood witch.” He said sincerely, Hermione laughed. “If I were a pureblood it would have to mean, that daddy is a wizard. Are you?” she asked her father. Once again her father didn’t raise his eye line; instead it stayed adamantly gazing at the plush carpet.
Hermione could hear her mother outwardly sobbing now, she sounded distressed and this only added to her own anxiety.
Once again it was Dumbledore who spoke. “No Miss Granger, He is not a wizard.” He said.
“But how am I a pureblood if my father isn’t a wizard.” She said, this really didn’t make sense.
Severus Snape had been watching the little display in front of him, it was awkward and emotionally driven, and emotions were something he didn’t like. But as things were going he knew things weren’t progressing well, he knew he had to do something, so of course he did it in his own way.
“Seriously, Granger. Use your head. You’re a logical girl.” He growled. “If you are a pureblood witch but your father isn’t a wizard then what must that mean?” he said harshly. He saw the realisation dawn on her face, he felt bad at the way he had to get the message across, but there was seriously no way in which to do this nicely, as he saw it anyway.
“He’s not my real father, is he?” she said breaking into a sob, she looked accusingly at her mother. “Tell me!” she cried.
Her mother shook her head, she was too upset, and the words wouldn’t form in her throat. Her father looked at her “You may not be my biological daughter, but you are still my little girl, I hope you understand that.” He said timidly. Hermione’s body shook violently as the sobs coursed through her body.
“If you’re not my dad, then who is?” she squeaked out.
Her mother stopped crying at this question, it was the one question she had been dreading. Wiping at her red rimmed eyes with a white lace handkerchief she stood from her chair and walked to her daughter’s side. “I am so, so sorry, you couldn’t find out sooner, Hermione. It was for all of our protections, you have to understand that.” She pleaded, holding her daughters hands.
“Who is it mum? Who is my real father?” she asked again.
The response shocked her beyond words.
“I am.” came the low baritone voice that belonged to her potions professor.
A/N: I hope you liked it. Do you think I should continue? Let me know
D xx
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