Ron and Harry both tried to ask Hermione what she meant, but their questions were met only with a shake of her head. Hermione didn’t stop or even pause on her way to the Headmistress’s office. When they reached the door, she knocked and, without waiting for permission to enter, walked boldly in.
“I’ve decided to leave my “ to leave the Grangers where they are for now. I don’t know if it’s right to tell them or not, so until I know, until I accept what I’ve learned and figure out what the right thing to do is, they’re better off where they are.” As Hermione spoke, she walked to the desk where Professor McGonagall was sitting. “I’d also like you to not tell anyone of this. I don’t want anyone else to know. Not yet,” she added, glancing apologetically at Harry, “and maybe not ever.”
Professor McGonagall looked sympathetically at Hermione. “Of course. It’s completely your choice. No one but those in this room will know the truth until you decide to tell them.”
“Hagrid knows “ we’ve just told him “ but he won’t say anything to anyone, right?” Ron asked, sure already of Hagrid’s loyalty but not willing to take any chances.
“I will instruct Hagrid to say nothing of this to anyone,” Professor McGonagall told Ron.
“I have one more thing I would like to talk to you about before we leave,” Hermione continued. “I want to return to Hogwarts this year. I want to finish my schooling. Is that possible?” Hermione asked.
“Of course. You are all welcome to return to school. I will arrange for it this afternoon. Harry, Ron, what about you two? Do you intend to return this year?” questioned Professor McGonagall.
Ron looked at Harry. Harry knew he would not be returning to school. But he didn’t want his decision to influence Ron’s.
“I know my mum would want me to,” said Ron, “but I’m not sure I want to, I mean, with all that has happened. . . . Kingsley asked Harry and me to work with him to reconstruct the Auror Department. I think I’d like to do that. I was also thinking I should help George out in the shop. He shouldn’t have to go through that alone.” Ron’s voice cracked on the last sentence.
“I’m not coming back,” Harry responded. “I’ve already told Kingsley I would help him out with the Auror Department.”
“Well then, Miss Granger, you will receive your letter with all the information you need for the next year in a few weeks time. Until then, I suggest you, as well as Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, take a well-earned rest. My offer still stands for you to stay here for the night.”
“No, we’ll be leaving now. I need to go somewhere to think, somewhere even quieter than Hogwarts. Thank you for letting me come back to school. Goodbye, Professor.” Hermione turned and started towards the door.
“Goodbye, Professor,” murmured Harry and Ron together before following Hermione.
As they cut across the grounds to the front gates, Hermione turned to Harry. “Harry, can we go to Grimmauld Place? Nothing against your family Ron, but I just can not handle being around a lot of people right now.” Ron shrugged dismissively, signalling that he understood.
“Sure, we can Hermione. I asked Kingsley if he thought it was safe to go there. He said that even though Yaxley knew where Grimmauld Place was, he couldn’t tell anyone because he wasn’t a Secret Keeper. Now that Yaxley is dead, Grimmauld Place is safe.” Harry told her. “Besides, even if people could get in, I’ll bet we could handle them.”
Once they were outside the boundaries of Hogwarts, they joined hands and turned on the spot, disappearing in an instant.
The three Apparated directly onto the top step of number twelve Grimmauld Place. Surprisingly, they actually landed squarely on the top step, something they had sometimes had trouble with when they were staying there before while staking out the Ministry of Magic. Harry tapped the door with his wand and they entered the dark and dusty foyer.
They all waited for the tongue-tying curse to hit them. But it didn’t come. They waited for the ghostly figure of Albus Dumbledore to appear. But all was still save for the dust their shoes raised as they crossed the floor cautiously. Looking at the other two, Ron shrugged his shoulders and started towards the stairs leading to the kitchen at a more normal pace. They all knew better than to talk in the foyer, which would surely cause the portrait of Mrs. Black to start screaming at them.
Once in the kitchen, Ron voiced the question they all were thinking. “Why didn’t Mad-Eye’s curses activate when we came in?”
“I don’t know,” Harry answered. “Perhaps with Snape’s death they disappeared?” He looked to Hermione for her opinion. But she was just wandering around the dirty kitchen, apparently lost in thought.
“Harry, this place is filthy. Since we’re going to be living here again “ at least for a little while “ I think we should clean it up.” With this, she pulled out her wand and began trying to scour the dust and grime from the kitchen table.
“And we need to think about getting some food. I’m starving.” Ron complained.
“So what else is new?” asked Hermione, her amusement clear.
“I think I’d better call Kreacher. He cooks better than any of us,” Harry told them, rolling his eyes good-naturedly at his friends’ seemingly normal antics.
But before Harry could call for the house-elf, there was a loud crack.
“Speak of the Devil,” Harry mumbled, shaking his head in amusement.
“Master Harry, you are here. Kreacher came as soon as you called.” The house-elf bowed low. Looking around the kitchen, Kreacher bowed his head, and his ears drooped. “Kreacher is a bad elf. Kreacher has let Master’s home become a mess. Kreacher will quickly set it right, Master Harry. Kreacher will take care of everything! Kreacher will have dinner ready in an hour, if that is alright with Master, but if Master wants it sooner, then Kreacher will have it sooner.” The house-elf looked up at Harry expectantly.
“No, Kreacher, an hour is fine.” Harry chuckled as Ron moaned quietly. “We’ll just go up to the drawing room until then.” Harry smiled down at the house-elf.
Upon entering the drawing room, they all sat on the couch. This room also showed signs of not being used in a while. There was a slight buzzing sound coming from the curtains. Harry realised that the doxies they had gotten rid of a couple years ago must have returned. He smiled thinking of that day. He remembered Fred pocketing a doxy behind Mrs. Weasley’s back. . . .
But all the memories were bittersweet. Sirius, Fred, Remus, Tonks, and Mad-Eye were gone now. Remembering them here, alive, caused sharp, stabbing pains that felt like the twisting of a knife in his stomach. He enjoyed the happy memories, but it still hurt to remember. Shaking his head to clear it, he knew he had to say something to Hermione. He decided to honour Fred with a bit of humour.
“Er, Hermione,” Harry began tentatively, “I don’t want to add more strain to what you’re feeling right now, but . . .” his voice trailed off. Wondering if this was really the right time for a joke, he thought again of Fred.
“It’s always time for a joke,” Fred would have said, wearing that mischievous grin of his.
“There is one thing I’m sure you haven’t thought of yet,” Harry began again, a smile spreading across his face as he spoke. “You can now call the Dursleys your relatives.”
Ron, who was unable to contain his laughter, added, “Hermione, now I really feel sorry for you. Think about it: Dudley is your cousin, too.” With this, Ron succumbed to a fit of laughter, and within seconds, Harry was laughing just as hard as Ron was.
Hermione looked shocked. Whether it was because of everything she had learned that day or the fact that Harry and Ron could laugh about it, even she didn’t know.
Harry, seeing the look on Hermione’s face, stopped laughing. Maybe this wasn’t the time for a joke, Fred, he thought. Though unsure of what to say, he knew he had to at least try.
“Hermione, listen, this doesn’t change who you are. You’re still the same person. Your parents “ your parents, the Grangers, are still your parents.” Hermione looked up. “They raised you, loved you all these years. The fact that you weren’t born to them, doesn’t matter, just as Hagrid said. It doesn’t change the love you all share; nothing can do that. All that’s changed is that now you know that you have two sets of parents. Personally, I think you got the better deal out of this. You got the Grangers, and I got the Dursleys.” Glancing at Hermione, Harry realised that she did seem to be considering what he had said.
“Harry is right,” Ron began. “Nothing has really changed. Well, except for the fact we know now why you were always such an ‘insufferable know-it-all’,” Ron teased, putting his arm around Hermione and hugging her close to him. Ron didn’t notice how Hermione stiffened slightly at his touch.
“Hermione?” Harry didn’t like the silence that stretched on as Hermione still didn’t speak. “I’ve always thought of you as my sister; this just makes it official.” Turning towards Hermione, he moved Ron’s arm and pulled her into a hug.
Sniffling, Hermione pulled back and looked at Harry. She then glanced back at Ron. Standing, she walked around the room, trying to gather her thoughts before she spoke.
“I know deep down this doesn’t negate the love I grew up with. The Grangers were “ are wonderful parents, and I was very lucky to be raised by them. I have no doubt that they would still love me in spite of the truth, so in the end, I will tell them; it wouldn’t be right not to. What I don’t know is . . .” Hermione took a deep breath. “What I don’t know is, who am I? I am not Hermione Granger, Mudblood. I am not the only child of two Muggles anymore. You couldn’t possibly understand what I’m feeling.” Hermione’s voice was shaking, both with sadness and with anger.
Harry and Ron looked at her in shock, not expecting the anger that they could hear in her words. Hermione was so even-tempered that it took a lot to get her angry.
“Hermione,” Ron began hesitantly, “you’re the same person now who you were this morning at the Burrow. Nothing has changed.”
“I knew you would say something like that, Ron. You who grew up in a large pureblood family, never doubting who you were. You who didn’t have to suffer countless taunts because of your parentage. Your name wasn’t on the Muggleborn registry, was it? No, mine was. I was the one treated like a second-class citizen, and now I find out that it was all for nothing. I’m not a Mudblood, am I?” she spat. Knowing Harry was about to add to Ron’s statement, she continued.
“Don’t even start, Harry. Since you started at Hogwarts, you knew you also came from a Wizarding family. The famous Harry Potter “ no one ever doubted your place there! You belonged in the Wizarding world as much as Ron! You were never made to feel otherwise. That you were abnormal and unworthy to be at Hogwarts.” Tears were streaming silently down Hermione’s face. Dabbing at them brusquely and impatiently, she turned and stormed out of the room, swinging the door shut behind her.
Harry and Ron both heard Mrs. Black’s cries. They heard Hermione go across the hall into the bedroom she had once shared with Ginny. And they heard the faint sound of the lock of the bedroom door clicking shut.
Quickly, Harry went to silence Mrs. Black’s portrait, and when he returned to the drawing room, Ron was still standing in place in shock. Ron stood up and started to walk to the door. Knowing he was going to go to Hermione, Harry reached out and stopped him.
“I think we should give her some time alone,” Harry told him.
“Yeah, okay, I guess,” Ron murmured quietly, not really in agreement.
“Let’s go see if dinner is ready,” Harry suggested.
“What about Hermione? She needs to eat too,” Ron protested.
“I really think it’s better if we leave her be, Ron. She’ll come down on her own if she’s hungry.” Harry opened the door and motioned for Ron to go ahead of him. He knew if he went first, then Ron would go to Hermione. As it was, Harry again had to grab Ron’s arm to stop him when Ron tried to enter the bedroom. Harry kept a firm grip on Ron’s arm as he led him down the stairs.
Who Am I? by mudbloodproud
Chapter Notes: Once again, I wish to thank my betas for this chapter, Harry_Rulz (Lexi), eleven49.
I do not own, nor claim to own any of the characters in this story. They all belong to J. K. Rowling. I wish to thank for for letting me to play in her world.