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The Dare	By : Tassanaburrfoot Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 82898 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 11
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. Don't own any of the characters. Am not making a profit.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Draco watched as Blaise entered the Common Room with his arm draped over the shoulder of an Indian beauty. Blinking, the blond tried to recall her name, but only really knew her as a Ravenclaw and that was due to the fact that she still had on her school robes. The… couple moved to join Draco by the fireplace and with a smirk, Blaise helped the girl to sit on the couch before joining her. Finally looking at his friend, Blaise raised an eyebrow.

“Where’s Hermione?” he asked, pulling the girl closer to him as he let himself get comfortable.

The blond frowned. “Doing her prefect duties,” he answered. After a short pause, he asked, “Who is this?”

Theodore had joined them at this point and was also gazing at the girl curiously. Blaise kissed this girl’s temple. “Well, gentlemen, I would like to introduce you both to my new wife,” he replied with a mischievous grin. “This is Padma Zabini, formerly Patil.”

The girl’s cheeks grew darker as she blushed and bowed her head. Draco’s eyes widened in shock. “Your what?” he asked, not believing what he had heard.

The smirk on Blaise’s face grew wider. “My wife,” he supplied. Then his face fell as he frowned. “After the events at Christmas, I knew my mother wouldn’t leave me be until I did marry. Actually, let me back that up. When I came home for the winter holidays, my mother was already pressuring me to get married. My original plan was to woo Daphne Greengrass, mostly to help restore some of her family’s name. Well, we know what happened there. During an impromptu trip to Diagon Alley to replenish my supplies, I ran into Padma here, a girl whom I had fancied for quite a while now and, seeing as we were both of legal age, we decided to just throw caution to the wind.”

“And that was it?” Theodore questioned dubiously. “Your mother just welcomed her to the family and Dumbledore willingly gave his blessing? You’re both students.”

“Students with high scores,” Blaise pointed out. “And that’s not going to change just because we’re married. My mother was not happy with the events, but what can she do? It’s not like I am of an age where she could stop me. And Padma is a Pureblood.”

“Mostly,” she corrected, speaking for the first time. “My father is a Pureblood, but my mother is only half.”

Blaise cast her a glance and nodded. Draco’s frown deepened. “It’s still a bit of a stretch,” he commented. “You two don’t even know each other. And what happens…”

“Actually, we are more acquainted with one another than you think, Draco,” Blaise interrupted. “Just because you had made it your life’s mission the first 5 years of our schooling to surround yourself with no one but fellow Slytherins doesn’t mean we all have. And it’s not like you’ve been keeping tabs on me much either. If you truly were, you would have noticed my studying with Padma in the library and having picnic lunches with her out by the Black Lake. Lately you’ve been so wrapped up in everything with Hermione, though, I’m shocked that you let her out of your sight at all.”

“So why bring Daphne to the party at all?” Draco pressed, sitting up and glaring at his friend.

Blaise shrugged. “To piss off my mother?” he tried. Sighing, he continued, “I’ve already told you, mate. I genuinely wanted to help Daphne and her family. If things had gone well at the party, I was planning on petitioning for her hand the next day. I honestly wasn’t expecting what happened to happen.”

Draco growled and leaned forward. “We still don’t know who’s responsible for Daphne’s death and Granger has come to the conclusion that your mother might have something to do with it. While I have my doubts, that still puts your girl at risk until we find the culprit,” he snapped.

“Why do you think I have her in here with me where I can keep an eye on her? I’ve already spoken to Dumbledore about it and as a married couple, Padma and I can be together. He’s even having the elves prepare the old couples’ dorms that they had here in the past,” Blaise explained.

“Couples’ dorms?” Theodore questioned in confusion.

Blaise nodded. “In the past it was commonplace for couples in their sixth and seventh years to get married and the founders had erected a set of dormitories to accommodate such things. There’s even a wing for a day care for students who have had children. Over the years, these things became unnecessary as more and more students began waiting until after Hogwarts for marriage and reproduction,” he told them. He shook his head at their dumbfounded expressions. “Honestly, it’s times like this where I wish Hermione was here. It’s like neither of you have read Hogwarts: A History.”

“Because we haven’t,” Draco deadpanned as his mind was swirling with the new information. “Does that book say anything about Head Girls being pregnant or graduating while married?”

Blaise leaned back against the couch, raising an eyebrow. “Perhaps you should read it and find out. I’m sure Hermione has a copy somewhere.”
(II)(II)
It was a bright Saturday morning and it felt like it had been ages since Hermione had been up in Gryffindor tower. For certain, many students gave her funny looks as she entered and, nonchalantly, proceeded to sit with Harry and Ron near the fireplace. For a moment, the two wizards simply stared at her in wonder as she set her book bag down and took out one of her many textbooks.

“Hermione?” the ginger haired boy questioned uncertainly.

She glanced up at him, frowning. “What?”

Ron glanced at Harry in confusion before turning back to the bushy haired witch. “All right then?”

She nodded, offering him a small smile. She looked back down at her book and the boys shared another look with one another.

Shrugging, Ron leaned back in his chair. “Looks like Malfoy’s finally cutting you some slack,” he commented, a goofy smile beginning on the edges of his mouth.

“Or he understands how important all of my relationships are, even the ones he doesn’t necessarily understand,” she quipped, not bothering to look at him for a moment. Then, suddenly, she snapped her book shut and looked up at the two wizards. “Now, if you two don’t mind, I promised Lavender I would help her with her essay for Transfiguration.”

“Why are you helping her?” Ron asked, frowning and giving her a curious look. “You’ve always hated Lavender and after… well… you know, I thought you would have hated her even more?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Hate is a strong word,” she told him. “I’ve never hated Lavender. I just… didn’t understand her. And not understanding someone can lead to disliking them.”

“Where did you learn that?” Harry asked.

The Muggle born witch took a deep breath. “Haven’t you been paying attention? I have practically been living in the Slytherin dormitories for the past three months. During my time there, I’ve learned a lot, most importantly, I’ve learned how little Slytherins know or understand people outside of their House and vice versa. Even more, I’ve learned how very alike they are to the other Houses. Theodore, for example, is very entertaining, much like many Hufflepuffs I know, and he can be extremely generous and kind. Blaise is very studious and also puts his studies before his friends, much like many Ravenclaws I know. He is insightful and a very good friend when you need someone to talk to. Even Pansy is an interesting person and, I think, can be a lot like Lavender, with her fashion tips and beauty secrets.”

Ron chuckled. “Yeah, if only she’d use some of them on herself,” he snarked, cracking a smirk at Harry.

Hermione didn’t share in their humour, however, and her frown deepened. “And many Gryffindors can be just as cruel as the Slytherins,” she said pointedly.

Ron’s jaw dropped for a moment. “Aw, Hermione, come off it,” he practically whined. “We’ve been bullied by them for years. You more than any of us. Ever since you and Malfoy started dating, you’ve changed. You used to laugh at our jokes.”

But Hermione simply shook her head. “No, I didn’t,” she argued. “I’ve never thought any of it was funny and on the rare occasion that I did laugh, it was more out of shock and surprise than anything. See? That’s the problem with all of this House rivalry. No one House is better than the other…”

“Though you’d never know that speaking to a Slytherin,” Ron commented, his face turning sour.

Hermione shoved her book into her bag and stood. “And who is it that claims all Slytherins are bad or Death Eaters or evil?”

“Because they are!” Ron shouted defensively. He waved a hand at the witch. “You’ve been around them. You know what they’re like.”

Hermione could feel her blood boiling as she glared at him. “Peter Pettigrew was not a Slytherin. Professor Quirrel was not a Slytherin. Andromeda Tonks, however, is a Slytherin, and I trust you to keep that in mind when you decide to insult them. And she isn’t the only one. Professor Snape is also a Slytherin, or have you already forgotten how he’s helped out in the war? I don’t trust you to actually read the history of how, or even why, this castle was built. But instead of just jumping to conclusions, maybe you should try getting to know a few of them before casting your judgement on the lot.”

“Hermione, we have…” Harry started tiredly, but he was interrupted.

“No, you haven’t,” she argued. “The only people outside of myself that has even attempted to make friends with anyone in Slytherin House have been Ginny, Luna, and Lavender. From what I know, both Ginny and Lavender actually get along with quite a few of them and Luna is even dating one.”

This had Ron and Harry both gawking at her. “Luna’s dating a Slytherin?” they both echoed at the same time.

Hermione sighed, but nodded. “She and Theodore….”

“She’s dating Nott?!” Ron shouted, causing other people in the Common Room to glance at him curiously. “She’s really dating that slimy, nasty wanker?”

If anything, his outburst just annoyed Hermione even more. It was then that Ginny and Lavender walked up to them, both witches having just caught the end of Ron’s shout. “What’s going on?” Ginny asked curiously as she sat beside Harry.

Hermione rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air. “I give up,” she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Lavender, I’m heading to the library if you’d like to follow so we could go over your paper.”

“No, you will not!” Ron demanded, shooting up and glaring at Hermione. “You will stay here and…” His voice faltered as Hermione’s wand was suddenly pointed at him.

“Do not test me, Ronald Weasley,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’m not afraid of you and you will not demand anything from me. If you want to know about Luna, ask her yourself. And before you judge a book by its cover, it would behove you to actually talk to Nott. Not fuss, but talk. You might actually find that the two of you have more in common than you think.”

“My father’s not a Death Eater,” Ron spat.

“And Theodore isn’t his father,” Hermione pointed out. “Want to know what kind of person Theodore is like? He’s the person who would stand up for a friend, even if it means standing up against his own family.”

“You don’t need to be worrying about Luna anyway,” Lavender stated as she folded her arms. “You have other responsibilities that are more important.”

The Muggle born glanced at the other girl curiously, but agreed. “How are you doing, Lavender?” the bushy haired girl asked, letting her wand fall to her side.

The beautiful blonde sighed. “Hermione, don’t ever get pregnant,” she said sagely. “It is, by far, one of the worse things ever. Though, the morning sickness finally stopped, but my sense of smell is so enhanced that it makes me dizzy almost every time I enter a room. And some smells actually make me sick to my stomach. And I’m always hungry, too, and thirsty. Not to mention, my bladder feels like it’s shrunk in size. My feet ache all the time, I’m almost always tired, my back hurts, and I feel bloated.”

Hermione opened her mouth, about to respond when the portal to the tower opened and Professor McGonagall entered the Common Room. The Muggle born watched curiously as the Transfiguration professor glanced around, spotted Hermione, and headed to her.

“Miss Granger,” the older woman greeted, “Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with you, if you’ll come with me?”

The girl’s eyes widened slightly at that. What would Professor Dumbledore want from her? Her interest piqued, Hermione followed the elderly witch out of the Gryffindor tower. Once they were in the corridor, safely out of prying ears, Hermione asked, “Professor? Why has Dumbledore requested…?”

“I wish I knew, Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall cut her off. “Normally he would send a student to fetch you, but for some reason he felt the need for me to do it. He told me that he would explain once we got to his office.”

Hermione nodded, practically running to keep up with the witch. For an older woman, Professor McGonagall certainly had a spring in her step. Like a cat, Hermione thought to herself, biting her bottom lip to keep from smiling at the thought.

They stopped at a large gargoyle and Professor McGonagall said, “Pumpkin Pasties.” As the gargoyle opened to reveal a large staircase, the two witches continued forward, up to the Headmaster’s office.

Hermione smiled as they entered and Dumbledore sat at his desk, his hands steepled. “Miss Granger,” he greeted the young witch. “Please, have a seat.” He waved at one of the chairs before his desk.

Confused, Hermione did as he told her, looking at him with furrowed brows. “Professor? May I ask why I’m here?”

He inclined his head slightly as an owl flew into the room from the window. It dropped a letter on Dumbledore’s desk and left. The wizened old man picked up the letter, opened it, and skimmed the contents. “Miss Granger, I was hoping you could solve a mystery for me. All morning, I have been receiving letter after letter requesting an audience with you,” he told her.

Reaching over the desk, he handed her the letter the owl had just given him. Suddenly nervous, Hermione took the letter with trembling hands and read over it. She frowned. “What is this?”

“You’ve become quite the desirable young lady, my dear,” he said, his blue eyes watching her carefully. “Of course, I’ve never doubted that young men have found you attractive. You’ve certainly managed to intrigue young Mr. Malfoy, but I wonder what it is that these other young men know?”

Hermione shook her head, her confusion even greater. She glanced at the older witch who sat next to her. “I don’t…”

Professor McGonagall’s lips were drawn in a straight line as she handed Hermione the evening edition of the Daily Prophet. There, in big bold words, the headline read Merlin’s Heiress Has Been Found.

Hermione dropped the paper as she saw a picture of herself and Draco strolling down Hogsmeade, arm in arm, laughing. Aghast, the young witch looked up at Dumbledore. “How…?” she started to say, but the words escaped her.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “And here I was hoping you could shed some light on this?” he commented. “Or were you not aware?”

Hermione leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “No, sir,” she admitted. “I was aware. Draco’s… I mean, Mr. Malfoy informed me of this during the winter holiday.”

“Mr. Malfoy?” Professor McGonagall repeated, looking at the girl curiously.

The Muggle born closed her eyes and nodded. “When Mr. Malfoy learned that I was dating his only son, he decided to do some investigation into my family tree,” she explained, not bothering to lie to either of the professors. Frowning, she stared unseeing at a spot on the floor. “I think he was trying to find some magical blood in my heritage. Some link that could prove to him that my being with his son was justified.” Glancing up at the headmaster, she continued, “I don’t think he was expecting to find that. I, for one, hadn’t expected it, though I didn’t know he was looking to begin with.”

“You were unaware he was investigating your family?” Dumbledore questioned.

Hermione nodded. “I was also unaware that Muggle records could date that far back.”

McGonagall sighed, “I am not sure whether they do or not, Miss Granger, but are you certain that this allegation is true? Are you the heir?”

The bushy haired witch pursed her lips. “Of that, I don’t know. My guess would be that they would have to look into my DNA? All I know is what Mr. Malfoy found. He just returned from Azkaban, and he sent me an owl just yesterday informing me that he would take me to the Ministry during the Easter holidays to have me tested, just to make sure, but he seemed pretty confident that I was, in fact, the heir.”

McGonagall looked at Dumbledore in concern. “And she’s already getting proposals? Do you think Lucius let the information leak?”

“I doubt it,” Dumbledore replied. “The Malfoys are Slytherins, Minerva. If Lucius knew Miss Granger was the heiress of Merlin before it became knowledgeable by others, he would want to keep it secret, especially given the circumstances, until such a time where the young Mr. Malfoy is married to Miss Granger.” His blue eyes bore into Hermione. “And how is your relationship with Draco, my dear?”

Hermione bit her lip, thinking over how much to tell him. Taking a deep breath, she decided upon, “We have our issues, as I’m sure all young couples do, but I love him. He’s a spoiled, self-centered prat, but he has his moments and he seems to care much for me. Merlin knows he often talks about how much he loves me and recently, he asked me to marry him.”

McGonagall gasped, putting her hand to her chest, but Dumbledore just looked at Hermione curiously. “And what was your reply?”

“That we are too young,” the Muggle born responded. “I reminded him that if we were to get married, we would lose the running to be Head Boy and Girl next year. He won’t even be seventeen until June and I don’t fancy marrying someone without getting my diploma first.”

Dumbledore inclined his head. “You do realize, Miss Granger, that with you being seventeen, people can now petition for your hand. Unfortunately, with your parents being Muggles, there is little they can do at this juncture. You will need a solicitor and a benefactor. Someone who puts your needs first and can handle these things.”

Hermione glanced down at the ring on her finger. “I told Draco I would marry him after we graduate,” she murmured. Then she looked up at the wizen old man. “I promised him,” she continued, more strongly. “Once we graduate, I will marry him, if we are still together by that point. He gave me this ring to seal that promise and gave his own vow that he would protect me and never harm me.”

Professor Dumbledore nodded. “Then the two of you are already betrothed,” he commented. “This is good.”

He took out a piece of parchment as Fawkes hopped to his desk. “I will send a letter to Mr. Malfoy asking him to come and collect you,” he explained as he wrote. “I want you to go ahead to the Ministry and get tested. There’s no sense in waiting as it’s not going to change much. This way, you can actually gain access to your vaults at Gringotts and anything else you may be entitled to.” He looked up at her. “I also urge you and Draco to announce your betrothal. By doing this, you will seal off most offers and gain some level of protection. If the tests come back positive, do you have a solicitor and benefactor in mind? Someone you trust?”

Hermione’s mind went through the list of names of adults that she knew until she settled on one. “Remus Lupin,” she said after a pause. She looked at McGonagall and continued, “for my solicitor, I think. But, if I can be bold, professor, I would like it if you could be my benefactor? I know Remus also has my best interests at heart, but I also trust you as well.”

“Of course, Miss Granger,” the older witch said. “Though, as your benefactor, I urge you to be cautious of Mr. Malfoy. Theirs is a family of money and power.”

“All the more reason why she is protected with them,” Dumbledore pointed out. “As I’ve said, Lucius Malfoy would never reveal information about someone unless it could be used for his benefit. Keeping Miss Granger’s lineage under wraps until she is properly wed to his son, or close to the date, would be most beneficial to him. Having this information out sooner, as it is, actually hinders the Malfoys. Which means that they will become even more protective.”

“And how do we know that this boy is interested in Miss Granger and not her money?” McGonagall asked.

“Because we were dating before Mr. Malfoy learned about me,” Hermione answered as Fawkes flew out of the window. “Draco was already talking about love and marriage. In fact, there were a couple times back when we first started dating where I overheard him call me his wife, though I don’t think he knew I was listening. I let it slide because I was flattered and thought it was kind of cute. But…”

A knock came from the door and the two professors and Muggle born looked up to see Lucius Malfoy standing in the doorway. Fawkes sat on his arm, though flew off the moment they were seen. “I would advise against telling Draco that anything he has done can be classified as ‘cute’, Miss Granger,” the man said as he entered the room, his cane tapping the floor in time with his steps. “Years of his mother and I doting on him has inflated his ego enough, I believe.” He smirked as he turned his attention to Dumbledore. “Forgive me, Headmaster, but it seems you and I have had the same thoughts in mind. I was walking the grounds of Hogwarts coming here when your phoenix found me. I take it you’ve read this morning’s paper?”

Inclining his head, Dumbledore glanced at Hermione. “And I have received no less than fifteen proposals as well.” Fawkes had disappeared and Dumbledore gave a soft smile. “I have also sent a missive to Remus Lupin, as he was chosen by Miss Granger to be her solicitor. Once he arrives, the three of you can get started.”

Lucius frowned at that, glancing at Hermione. “If you need a solicitor, Miss Granger, I know someone who is excellent,” he told her. “He’s been with our family for years.”

Hermione smiled kindly. “Thank you, sir, but I think I would like my own,” she told him. “It’s not that I don’t trust your man, but I know Remus and he knows me.”

“When you marry my son…”

“If we marry,” she corrected.

He frowned at that. “If? Why on earth would you not?” he asked, startled that she had interrupted him.

She shrugged. “It’s like you said. Draco has an inflated ego. He also has this sense of entitlement that he and I are working on. If he can’t learn to tone it down, I might find myself looking elsewhere,” she informed him.

Lucius’s expression revealed nothing, though he raised a single eyebrow at her words. “Oh, really?” he commented, though he did not linger on the thought. “Well, then, if the two of you marry, which I am sure is what will happen, then you’ll have the family solicitor at your disposal.”

She nodded. “And I appreciate that, sir,” she said gratefully. “Though, I believe I shall retain my own, if for no other reason than to have a second opinion.”

An awkward silence fell over them as the minutes ticked by, waiting for an answer from Remus Lupin. Hermione silently played with her ring, thinking things over. So many things have happened, and her sudden betrothal, as Dumbledore stated, was just the tip of the iceberg. Lucius was obviously invested in her future, what with his son’s interest in her and her supposed inheritance.

It was true that the Malfoys did not really need any more money and Hermione had a sinking suspicious that her added wealth would make the family the richest in all of Great Britain, if not the world. But that didn’t concern her as much as she thought it would. She already had it in her mind that she would take a portion of the wealth she’d suddenly acquired and give it to her parents. They would be able to retire and spend the remainder of their days doing whatever they wished. To her, that was what they deserved more than anything. She had also already come to the conclusion that she would give some of it to Remus, to pay him for his services if he agreed to be her solicitor. She knew that as a werewolf, his employment options were very few and he had always been a friend to her. But she had no idea how much she had even inherited, so that was, quite literally, counting her chicks before they hatched. For all she knew, she could have just inherited three Galleons. She snorted at that thought, drawing the attention of the adults.

“Something funny, my pet?” Lucius asked.

She shook her head. “No, no,” she said. “I just discovered a newfound respect for Harry, is all.”

He tilted his head. “And how is that?”

She shrugged. “Well, think of it,” she said, glancing at Dumbledore and then at Lucius. “Harry spent eleven years of his life living in a home with an aunt and uncle who hated him, thinking he hadn’t even some pence to his name only to learn that he was actually quite rich.”

Lucius’s eyes furrowed. “Pence?”

Again, she shook her head. “Sorry. A Knut, then,” she corrected herself with a wavering smile. “I never thought I’d ever understand what that felt like until now. And I’m not quite sure how to process this or if there’s anything to even process. It’s been centuries since Merlin has been alive, hasn’t it? How can we be certain there’s even anything for me to inherit?”

“There really are no guarantees until you’ve been to Gringotts, Miss Granger,” McGonagall pointed out.

Hermione snapped her fingers. “Exactly. So, all these letters vying for my companionship could literally be for naught,” she said happily. “Especially if they’re just in it for the money.”

“It wouldn’t be for naught,” Lucius argued. “Even if you are Knutless, you’re still the heiress of Merlin. That on its own would earn you enough prestige.”

The Muggle born slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. She really was more mature than that, but something about hearing the word “Knutless” coming out of Lucius’s mouth was just hysterical. Her laughter made the Pureblood wizard frown even deeper, though Dumbledore looked at her in amusement.

“Oh, I doubt you’ll be without, Miss Granger,” the headmaster assured as the Muggle born worked towards calming herself. “Merlin was a Slytherin, if I recall, and Slytherins are nothing if not stringent with their valuables.”

Hermione nodded. “But it is foolish to categorize all Slytherins as such, isn’t it? If all Slytherins cared as much about their wealth, there wouldn’t be any who were poor. And we all know the fallacy in such a thought.”

There wasn’t any disagreement on that end, especially given the current climate. Many Slytherins were struggling after the war. But then, people in general were. The war, whilst short-lived, managed to toss even more people into the poverty level, though there were charities working towards fixing that.

Hermione’s mind wandered again. Yes. Merlin’s inheritance was just the tip of the iceberg for sure. She still wanted to talk to Astoria as well as try to see if she could find out more about Daphne’s killer. She looked at Lucius who had grown quiet again, examining his fingernails.

“Have there been any more leads on what happened to Daphne?” she asked him quietly.

The aristocrat looked up at her. “No more than what you and Draco has told me,” he admitted as he sighed and dropped his hands. “Though I doubt the Aurors would tell me anything even if they did find something.”

She frowned. “Why wouldn’t they?” she questioned. “It happened in your home.”

“It happened in Draco’s home,” he pointed out. “And Draco has an ironclad alibi, unless you intend to inform the Aurors that you were lying about what the two of you were doing that night.”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t lying,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

He waved a hand. “There you have it, then,” he told her. “There is nothing else they can really do until they’re able to gain more evidence. They did, however, perform an autopsy on the body, but were a bit confused by what could have happened to her.”

“What did they tell you it was?” she asked.

He frowned, looking at her. “Miss Granger, I am not an Auror, nor am I the head of the estate or her father. Why on earth would they feel the need to confer in me as to what happened? Once the investigation is complete and the culprit has been found out, I’ve no doubt I will learn of what happened, just as every other citizen, but until then I am just as much in the dark as anyone else.”

“But Draco is the head of the estate,” she pointed out.

“He’s also a minor,” he reminded her. “Which means that, at least for the time being, they don’t have to tell him a thing. Even after he’s come of age, they are still not obligated to say anything to him. If you want information on Miss Greengrass’s state after her death, you are better off approaching her younger sister with your questions, though I doubt their parents would have told her anything substantial.”

“Astoria’s going through enough,” Hermione stated, looking away from him.

He leaned forward, towards her, and said softly, “If you want more information, my pet, perhaps you and Draco could look into that memory again. Or ask your friends for their memories of that night. You might gain a better angle.”

She frowned at that. Something in her doubted she would gain more knowledge looking into Blaise, Theo, or Luna’s memories. She sighed as a tap on the door drew their attention and Lupin walked in.

Standing up, Hermione approached the werewolf and through her arms around him. He responded in kind, burying his face in her hair for a brief moment before pulling away from her. He gave her a slight smile. “How are you, Hermione?” he asked.

She sighed in relief. “Better now that you’re here,” she told him truthfully.

He looked past her at the headmaster. “I came as soon as I received your letter, Dumbledore. Seeing Hermione and Minerva’s presence, I would assume this has something to do with what I read in the Prophet this morning, but what is Lucius Malfoy doing here?” he asked, curiously.

Lucius stood and leaned against the chair he had been sitting in so he could regard the werewolf as Hermione piped up, “He’s taking me to have me tested. To see if I truly am the heir of Merlin or not. And once we know for certain, if it’s true, we’ll go to Gringotts to figure out about the state of my inheritance, if there is one.” She looked up at the tall, mousy haired man. “I’d like it if you came as well. If things are the way Mr. Malfoy and the Headmaster believe, I’ll need a solicitor. And I want someone I trust. Someone who knows me and wants what’s best for me.”

The werewolf brushed her cheek with his fingertips before dropping his hand. “I appreciate that you trust me with this, Hermione, but...”

She shook her head, cutting him off. “I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer, Remus. The only other option I have is Snape and while I do trust him, he also has a vested interest in Draco as well.” She cast Lucius a pained look. “While I want to believe in my heart that Draco and I will always be together, I want to make sure that those I have on my side are vested in me. Someone who is invested in my interests without being biased towards another.” She turned her attention back to Remus.

The mousy haired man looked from her to Dumbledore and then sighed. Letting his eyes linger on her again, he said, “Hermione, I…”

She touched his arm, interrupting him. “I trust you, Remus,” she told him, looking up into his blue eyes. “Please? I know you have my back, you always have.”

He sighed, but nodded his agreement as she continued, “We don’t even know if there’s even anything to worry about. Merlin’s heir seems like a huge title, but it really could only end up meaning I have a famous ancestor. Like someone learning their related to Winston Churchill or Oscar Wilde.”

Lucius looked at her a bit curiously, not recognizing the names and she gave him a wary smile. “Muggles,” she explained simply, knowing they didn’t really have time to go into detail.

“And Minerva is your benefactor?” Remus asked, watching the girl. “Why not have her be your solicitor as well?”

Hermione took a deep breath and let her eyes roam to the elderly witch. “She’s deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor House, Transfiguration professor... I wouldn’t want to burden you even more, professor,” she said and then pinched her lips and looked at Remus. “You’re not getting out of this.”

“Helping you isn’t a burden, Miss Granger,” the Transfiguration teacher told her.

The young witch gave her mentor a warm smile and inclined her head slightly. Standing up, Lucius glanced at the bushy haired girl and said, “Well, now that Lupin is here, shall we make our way to the Ministry? I would hate to impede upon your studies, Miss Granger.”

Hermione stood as well. “Yes, we should,” she concurred, looking to Remus as he nodded.

The werewolf glanced at the headmaster. “I will make sure she returns safely and soundly, Dumbledore.”

With that, the Muggle born witch and the two wizards made their way out of the castle and to the Ministry of Magic.

(III)(III)

Hermione was sitting on a stool with her left arm propped up on a little side table. Remus, Lucius, and the Minister, Kingsley, were all lounging in leather chairs in a sort of semi-circle around the young witch. It would have been assumed that Hermione felt uncomfortable being surrounded by the men, only, they weren’t really paying much attention to her. Like her, their eyes were trained on the medi-witch as she bustled about the Muggle born, casting spells while her quill wrote frantically on a piece of parchment hovering in the air.

Hermione anxiously watched the medi-witch, taking in her white scrubs and the little white bonnet on her head that helped to cover her bun, effectively hiding what Hermione was sure was more hair than what she probably imagined. Or maybe it was less? It was very reasonable to the Muggle born that the witch could be hiding a much shorter amount of hair in that 50s style get-up, but then who was she to judge.

So far, Hermione’s arm had glowed a myriad of colours, and yet the medi-witch said nothing, just continued to cast her spells and copy down her “findings.” Finally, after what seemed like forever, the medi-witch put down her wand, picking up her quill and writing a few more things on the parchment before turning to the three wizards. This put her back to Hermione, which irritated the Muggle born for some reason.

“Well, Mr. Malfoy, I will have to check my sources, but…” the witch started to say before Hermione interrupted her.

“Excuse me,” Hermione said, causing the witch to turn and look at her. The bushy haired girl frowned. “Given that this is my test and not Mr. Malfoy’s, you should be talking to me, not him.”

The medi-witch stared at Hermione for a moment. “But I thought Mr. Malfoy…”

“You thought wrong,” Hermione ground out through gritted teeth. “Mr. Malfoy is not my father nor my stepfather, grandfather, or any relation to me whatsoever. In fact, the only connection he has to me is that his son is betrothed to me. That he’s here is only because I asked him to be here. Now, if you please, tell me what you have found?”

For a moment, the medi-witch glanced from Hermione, to the three men present, and back again. Taking a deep breath, she started over, “I may have to reference the databases again, but if it all checks out, which I’m certain it will, then you are, indeed, Merlin’s heir, Miss Granger.”

“How long before you know for certain?” the Muggle born asked, letting her hands fall into her lap.

Again, the medi-witch glanced at the three wizards before looking back at Hermione. The young witch raised an eyebrow. Licking her lips, the medi-witch responded, “I can pop over to St. Mungo’s and have the answer for you within the hour.”

Hermione nodded as she hopped off the stool. “That should give us enough time for some lunch then,” she concluded. Looking to Shacklebolt, she asked, “Would it be alright if we reconvened in your office in an hour?”

The tall black man stood and smiled at the Muggle born as he nodded his head slightly. “Of course, Miss Granger.”

Lucius and Remus also stood and everyone thanked the medi-witch for her time and agreed to meet back up in an hour. Turning his attention to the Muggle born, Lucius asked, “I assume your mention of lunch was because you were hungry. Any idea of where you would like to go?”

Hermione shrugged. “I would be happy with wherever. I didn’t really get to eat breakfast this morning. Perhaps the Leaky Cauldron?” she suggested.

A faint grimace crossed Lucius’s face at the suggestion, but he pursed his lips and nodded. “Then lead the way, my pet.”

There was a reason Hermione had asked Remus and Lucius to accompany her to the Ministry of Magic and walking into the Leaky Cauldron proved why. While no one approached the triad, the blatant staring and staged whispers almost caused Hermione to lose her appetite. There was a newly found sympathy for Harry that she discovered as she sat at one of the tables with her shepherd’s pie and mug of pumpkin juice. Remus moved to sit next to her as Lucius took the chair across from her. The three of them tucked into their meals in relative silence, ignoring the whispers and stares.

“Once we finish with the Ministry, I assume our next stop will be at Gringotts?” Hermione asked as she took a sip of her pumpkin juice.

Lucius batted his lips with his napkin before responding. “Yes, it will be. There will be paperwork you’ll have to sign before the goblins hand over your vault key.”

“One of those papers,” Remus added, “will be proof that you are the rightful heir, which won’t be difficult as we’ll have the proper documents stating as such. However, are you certain that you and Mr. Malfoy are in fact betrothed to one another?”

Confused, Hermione answered, “Yes. He asked me to marry him over the holidays. Why? Will that be a problem?”

Remus shook his head as he cut into his steak. “You will need to make another decision if that is the case, Hermione. As the heir of Merlin, you’ll need to consider whether or not you want Draco to have access to your vaults once the two of you are married or not. And if he’s allowed, then you’ll need to determine just how much he has access to.”

Lucius sneered at that. “And why wouldn’t he, Lupin? If they are to get married, then she’ll have full access to his vaults, especially once they are married. We believe in the traditional marriage, meaning that they will be bound until the day one or both die,” the Pureblood explained.

Hermione’s eyes widened slightly and she glanced at Remus. “We don’t even know how much is in the vaults. I don’t know what exactly it is that I’ve inherited, if anything. What would be the point in keeping Draco from any of it?”

Remus sighed as he placed his knife flat on the table. “Tradition, Hermione, as Lucius here has pointed out, would require that the two of you combine your respective vaults and any money or land you may own will become joint property. Woman are not normally known to inherit much, but with you being the only known heir to Merlin, you will inherit it all. If another person were to be revealed to also be Merlin’s heir, then a portion of what you own would go to them. If the other heir were to be revealed to be male, then you would lose a great deal of property and wealth to them.”

“So I need to be careful with my spending, is what you’re saying?” Hermione guessed. “Remus, you know I don’t really need a lot of money. And again, we’re not even sure I’ll get much to begin with.”

“What she needs is a block,” Lucius stated as he leaned back in his chair. “Once it’s determined that she is the heir, we’ll go to Gringotts to access her vaults. Then, depending on what exactly she has gained, she can request a block on her vaults.”

Tilting her head, the Muggle born looked to Lucius. “A block?” she asked.

He gave a short nod. “What this will do, my pet, is prevent anyone else from coming to claim that they, too, are heirs of Merlin,” he explained. “Many old wizarding families have this block on our own vaults. Once an heir has been named, no one else has a right to anything that the heir doesn’t choose to give them. This keeps the vaults safe from illegitimate children and others who would wish to claim a piece of the ‘treasure’, if you will.”

“I am not so arrogant to wish to keep it all to myself!” Hermione hissed. “If there is another heir, I wouldn’t want to keep them from their rightful share.”

(IV)(IV)

Draco growled in frustration as he pushed the book away from him. Earlier that morning, Hermione had told him she was going to go to the Gryffindor Tower to help Brown. He hadn’t argued with her choice of going as he had wanted to search the library for Hogwarts: A History without having her curious questions.

He glanced up at the clock to see it was a little after noon. Hermione hadn’t returned, which didn’t surprise him as he knew she would take hours helping the blond girl. Bleeding heart Gryffindors. Sighing, he stood up from the armchair and decided to head up to the Great Hall for lunch.

As he approached the portal, it suddenly opened up and Slytherins started pouring into the Common Room, surrounding him.

“Did you know?”

“Of course he knew!”

“Oh, we just heard the news!”

“It’s all over the Prophet!”

“Are you going to ask Granger to marry you now?”

“You are so lucky!”

“Him? Don’t you mean that she’s lucky?”

“Wonder what she’s getting?”

“Draco?”

More questions and comments surrounded him in rapid succession and he had no idea what any of them were talking about. He glanced over at Theo pleadingly, but the older boy just shook his head.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” he heard Blaise over the den.

“You should have told us,” Pansy added and he saw her give him that disappointed look.

Finally, Draco snarled, “Enough! What the bloody hell are you lot going on about?”

His glare and the tone of his voice had the desired effect of quieting everyone down. Theodore pushed past a couple of girls and Goyle and handed Draco his copy of the Daily Prophet. “It’s all over the school,” the boy told him.

Draco’s eyes widened at the headline and his jaw dropped. “Who…?” he whispered as he scanned the article. Dana Icklesbee was the author of the article. Draco’s eyes narrowed as he looked up at his friend. “Where’s Hermione?”

Theodore shrugged, but it was Lovegood, who was standing behind him, who answered, “From what Ginny told me, Professor McGonagall brought her to the headmaster’s office this morning and no one has seen her since.”

“I need to find out who leaked this information to the press,” the blond Pureblood stated as he clutched the newspaper in his hands.

“So, it’s true,” Blaise commented after he had weaved through the crowd to his friend. Draco gave him an annoyed look and the dark skinned wizard shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Tell you what?” Draco spat. “Who she is, is her business.”

“You still should have told us,” Pansy reasoned. “Draco, we’re your friends. Theo, Blaise, and me? And even Vincent and Greg. We’ve been friends for years and you know you can trust us.”

Draco hissed through his teeth, “It’s not for me to tell. And we weren’t even completely sure anyway. Father was supposed to take her to the Ministry over Easter break to have it verified.”

“So you were waiting to be certain before you said anything,” Theo surmised.

The blond wizard rolled his eyes. “I was waiting for Granger to say something. If she wanted you to know, she would tell you herself.”

“And is it true you’re betrothed?” came Lovegood’s wistful, lyrical voice.

Why, oh why did Theodore have to choose that annoyance out of all the birds he could have, Draco would never know. But then, Draco thought, it probably had to do with the fact that he had to know how much the little witch got on Draco’s nerves. Through gritted teeth, the blond hissed, “Yes.”

This caused another uproar around the Common Room. While most were more than happy for Draco, some expressed envy, while a select few actually showed anger. “It doesn’t matter who her ancestor is. She’s still not Pureblood. She’s still tainted,” was the common phrase for those disgusted.

While Draco had always prided himself on the attention he could get from others, he really did not want it at this time. Not when Hermione wasn’t there to join. So, he took out his wand and shot red sparks in the air to cause everyone around him to quiet down again. “Another word about Granger’s blood and, I swear, the one who says it will get hexed,” he warned. “Now. I have to get to the headmaster’s office to find out what’s going on with Granger. Crabbe. Goyle.”

The names of his two henchmen were barked briskly as he started to the portal again. But Crabbe and Goyle weren’t the only ones who followed him out. Blaise, Theo, and Pansy, along with Lovegood and that Patil girl, were right behind him.

“I don’t need a paparazzi,” Draco commented.

“Paparazzi?” Theo snorted. “I want to find out what’s going on, and besides, it looks like you’re going to need us.”

(V)(V)

Hermione couldn’t breathe. She stared at the goblin without seeing him, not believing the words that had come out of his mouth. That were still coming out of his mouth. Why was he still talking?

“I can have the elves begin work on restoration of the fortress immediately,” he continued.

“Wait,” Hermione finally said. Eyes wide with disbelief, she stared at the goblin as if he had just spoken a different language. “What did you say? What’s this about a fortress?”

The goblin let out a snide little grunt. “The fortress, the fortress, girl. Haven’t you been paying attention? Merlin’s fortress. His castle in Wales.”

Her mouth was dry as she looked desperately at Remus, who also seemed to be taken aback. Licking her lips, Hermione carefully whispered, “Let’s try this again. There is a vault here. A vault for Merlin’s heir, and now you tell me there is also a castle in Wales?”

The goblin rubbed his forehead. “Do you have your key?” he asked and Hermione could see that his patience was wearing thin.

Digging into her bag, she took out the key that Shacklebolt had handed to her upon obtaining the paperwork that stated who she was. She gave it to the goblin. “Vault 62,” she said.

He nodded. “Yes, yes. Every goblin knows that vault. Come with me,” he ordered as he led Hermione, Remus, and Lucius to the carts.

Hermione had never really been inside Gringotts. At least not to go to a vault. With her parents being Muggles, they would spend most of their time in the lobby, dealing with a goblin to exchange Muggle money for Wizarding money. As they continued the ride deeper, she began to understand why Harry thought it jarring, yet thrilling. Though she just found it terrifying personally. When they finally reached their destination, which seemed like forever, she stumbled out of the cart, using Remus for support.

“Oh, I think I’m going to be sick,” she mumbled, placing a hand over her stomach.

Remus rubbed her back. “It’ll be alright, Hermione,” he assured her, though by the looks of it, he had doubts.

Taking a deep breath, she held Remus’s hand and closed her eyes at the feel of Lucius’s hand on her shoulder. Together, they stepped up to the vault and watched as the goblin opened it.

“This is one of the oldest vaults,” the goblin explained as the mechanisms worked their magicks. “Though the last known wizarding heir died centuries ago, the vault has grown as inflation grew and interests built up.”

Hermione’s eyes widened as the doors shuddered and groaned upon their hinges. When it opened completely, the Muggle born gazed around the vault, taking in the mountains of gold coins, gems, jewels, furniture, and artifacts and fainted.
Author's Note: So.... that just happened. Took me long to write and for that I apologize, but I mean, look at everything going on! Anyone else in shock or is it just me? (And I'm writing the story! Lol)

Thank you all for the lovely comments. Please don't forget to let me know what you think about this chapter! :) I do love reading reviews. Yes, I know I may be stretching it a bit with Blaise and Padma but can you disagree with his reasoning for it? I mean, if it gets his mother off his back about Hermione... And he has the added bonus of proving to Draco that he has absolutely no romantic interest in Hermione. Also, think about when the founders had actually founded the school and all the things going on at that time. Many of the old Wizarding families more than likely practiced the old, olde ways for many years before the idea of students being married became obsolete. However, this does not mean that Theo and Luna will be getting married any time soon. Luna is still underage, after all.
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The Dare