DISCLAIMER: the only thing I own are the plot and the original characters of this story, everything else you may recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling. My only profit is my personal entertainment and hopefully yours.

WARNINGS: pureblood!Hermione, OOC, rated M for coarse language, mentions of violence and sexual encounters; modern.

This fanfiction comes with dedicated website: godisawitchfic dot tumblr dot com.

[ REVISIONED: 05/18/19 ]

PART ONE:
"A ROOM IS NOT A HOUSE AND A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME"

0.

ANTEFACT

.

(Ministry of Magic, DMLE Office,
Whitehall, London, England,
May 2nd, 1998, around 23.20 p.m.)

"My dear son,
if you are reading this letter it means my body has already turned to ashes.

I'm writing it just because I'm not sure you'll answer the others I'll send you in the future.

I don't blame you, my boy. You have my word.

I haven't been a good father.

I haven't been a good wizard, either, even though I hope the reasons behind my actions will somehow provide my soul, someday, some absolution.

After we write our last wishes we are going to be transferred from the Ministry to Azkaban, where we'll wait until our cases will be examined. Some of us will get trials, some of us won't.
I'll personally ask not to have one. I don't deserve it...

The first time they locked me there I had a reason to escape, I had you to go back to.

Now the Dark Lord has fallen eventually.

It may sound odd coming from me, but as your mother and I celebrated all those years ago, when Harry Potter defeated him the first time, today I'm happy. I am happy because you are free, you are free from the life I chose for myself.

Tom Riddle was a natural leader, back in the day, and we were too prideful of our heritage to take a step back and really think about the consequences.

By the time I left Hogwarts, half of my class was already marked.
Lucius Malfoy was the first.

Your mother did everything she could to stop me, but something happened that year and eventually my thirst for revenge stained my judgement.

By the time you were born we already understood it was a mistake.

You see, only a Death Eater knows what it feels like to have his mark.

That's why many of us said we were under the Imperius curse after the first war.

Technically, we weren't. It was something much worse.

Our actions were not the only thing he could control through it, I saw Alston Carrow killing his wife and giving Him his children, and I swear to you that he was a nice, polite wizard; we shared a room in Slytherin and I knew him like the handle of my wand: he wouldn't have done it on his own will.

I still wonder why the Ministry didn't investigate his suicide. Perhaps it would have given them some insight about the wizards they were chasing. Perhaps they would have paid more attention to a small, yet fierce and strong portion of our society who cares about its history and traditions.

Always be prideful, Theo. Anytime I told you this Anastasia laughed.

She was beautiful, your mother, the finest Lady of the Manor my ancestors could ask for.

I loved her very much and she loved me back. I didn't deserve it.

Anastasia used to tell me love is not something you deserve. Either you have it or you don't. Love is pure instinct, she would say. It's what breaks my heart the most, son: she loved me, and I broke her. I failed her. I failed your mother and I failed you.

We told you what happened to your sister. Eloise didn't make it out of Anastasia's body.

She was born and then she was dead. We could say she never lived.

It was a lie.

When the two of you were born Harry Potter still wasn't, and the Dark Lord was stronger than ever.

Every wizard in Britain was wondering when the Ministry would eventually fall. It didn't, but it was going to.

That's why your mother and I made the toughest decision of our lives.

You were sick, Theo, you couldn't breathe on your own. The House-Elf who assisted your mother was giving up when you suddenly started to cry. We never figured out exactly what happened, but it was your sister's magic who saved your life.

We didn't know we were expecting twins.

By the time Anastasia discovered she was pregnant Tom Riddle had already started to turn against us.

He started with small things, like meddling into our private lives and making demands. First, he claimed objects. Some properties, ancient artefacts, books from the oldest families' libraries. Then he started claiming people. For the greater good, he would say.

He needed both our finances and our magic to finally accomplish what we wanted the most: some recognition from our society, the promise the names of the families who built this country will be remembered and their children respected.

He didn't care about our cause, but none of us had the courage to admit we had been blinded by his promises of glory and handed our lives and the lives of our children to a madman who would end up wiping away our names from history books.

I won't be remembered for the wizard I've been, son.

I think spending the rest of my life in a cell will help me deal with the fact that our name will no longer be praised in the halls of the Ministry, nor our proposals will be voted in the Wizengamot.

I'm sorry if being a Nott will be the reason of your shame, son, and I'm forever sorry if my choices will ever prevent you from chasing your dreams.

The one Anastasia and I made the day you were born, though, that I will never regret. It kept you and your sister safe.

At least when I'll meet your mother again I'll be able to tell her I kept my last promise to her: you are both alive.

Son, I know what I'm about to tell you will make you hate me even more.

I wish we could have this conversation face to face, but you're too much like myself.

If you're reading this letter and I bet all my Galleons you are, Theo, it means I'm forever gone.

Maybe I'll be already gone because of the Dementors in the letters I will send you from now on, but I hope that in the end I'll reach peace and accept what I've done for this family. For myself and your mother, but mostly for you and your sister.

You must hate me, but I don't hold you accountable for it.

That's what I've been trying to achieve all along, so you'd go as far away as possible and be safe.

It wasn't the case, unfortunately, but I'm proud of the man you've managed to become.

The man you became all by yourself, whom I love very, very much.

I love you, my son, despite the fact our house wasn't the warmest.

Losing Eloise put distance between Anastasia and I, but after I lost my wife I set myself on the path of losing you too and for that I am sorry.

You're what I have left of an entire life in the moment of my demise, as Aurors tell me to hurry and I don't have the power to tell them to back off. Not anymore.

At least I have the faculty to think safely within my own head, now that the Dark Lord is gone.

This time for good.

I must cut short here, they are starting to move us.
I'll probably be in my new room by the end of the day.

You have to find her, son. Find Eloise and bring her home…"

(Soho, London, England,
March 15th, 2001, around 08:03 a.m.)

They knocked the first time at 8 a.m.

Blaise snorted loudly, kicking Draco out of the sofa they were sharing.

He fell on Theodore's feet, who mumbled something and turned his head towards the right, adjusting it over his shoulder.

The armchair he'd fallen asleep in wasn't particularly comfortable, and it was probably the reason why he heard the second knock on the door, followed by a small cough and the sound of two people talking.

"Mr. Nott, are you at home?", asked a high-pitched female voice.

When Theo opened the door he wasn't still fully awake, but the excited squeal the middle-aged woman produced when she saw him definitely sent his brain in alert.

The brooch on both the witch and the wizard's cloaks helped him recognize them as Ministry's officers.

Of which level or grade he couldn't really tell, but suddenly he felt extremely defensive.

Last time he had spoken with someone belonging to the government things didn't turn out so great for him. All they could bring was bad news.

"What have I told you, Gustave", the witch chirped. "The boy is home".

"Hello, umh… lady. Can I help you with something?"

"Hello to you too, Mr. Nott. I'm Clara Stevens, from Human Resources. Tonight the Ministry has received a letter from Azkaban, dear", she said, and her voice slightly softened towards the end of her sentence.

It didn't took long for Theo to realize what her words really meant, but he didn't allow a single word to leave his mouth. He needed to hear it.

"Your father has left this world, boy", she confirmed. "He was diagnosed with a very bad disease a couple of months ago, but the records prove that he refused medical care. Yesterday morning he got worse, but he was asleep when he actually passed away, so at least he didn't suffer". She sighed dramatically before taking his hand and pulling it to her heart. "If you need anything you can contact my department for assistance. Here's my business card, owl me if you feel like you need a chat".

He felt numb as he looked her up and down, noticing her appearance for the first time since she'd started talking: the woman was around forty-five years of age, with a deep complexion and wild, voluminous curls.

A maternal smile was caressing her full lips, lightening up her dark eyes in the process, but there was nothing in her kindness that inspired Theodore to the point of trusting her with his thoughts.

He just wanted to be left alone.

"I'm Gustave Richelieu, Mr. Nott. The night your father was imprisoned I was assigned the task of collecting his and the other prisoners' testamentary dispositions. Your father left you all family's possessions as only heir of House Nott and this letter", he trailed off, reaching inside a pocked of his jacket to grab a white envelope. "I will give it to you as soon as you'll sign some mandatory papers".

"Do you have a quill?", was all Theodore bothered to ask.

Despite the fact he had ignored all of his father's letters in the past three years, burning them to ashes as soon as they were delivered, Theodore now wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

One last letter and then he was finally free.

He was finally alone. The last fucking member of his illustrious family.

He picked up the quill Ms. Stevens gently handed to him, signing his name three different times: first things first, he was now the only owner of all properties and vaults at Gringott's, and the family business; then he was willing to respect his father's last request and read the letter Mr. Richelieu had mentioned; last but not least, he authorized the Ministry to bury his body next to his late wife in the family crypt.

He didn't understand how much was protocol and how much his father's doing, and he honestly didn't care.

Maybe he should have insisted about giving Cantankerus a proper funeral, he was his father after all, but Theo just gave the signed papers to Gustave and grabbed the letter he was still holding in his hand, closing the door behind him after a quick "Have a nice day" that left the Ministry employees rather baffled.

He made his way back to the living room, where Blaise and Draco were still sleeping in the same positions they were before.

With a sigh he kept walking, stopping only when he reached the door of his personal room.

Sometimes he hated sharing a flat with his best mates.

It was just like it was in Hogwarts: no privacy at all.

(Soho, London, England,
March 15th, 2001, around 10:00 a.m.)

Two hours later he knew the letter like he was the person who had written it.

Theodore didn't know what to think. Or what to feel.

His father was gone forever, and nothing could ever bring him back.

Despite the anger and the hurt, the good memories were coming back to him.
He was in the uncomfortable position of hating himself because of his grief.

There was more.

The moment he thought he was literally alone in the world, an orphan, something he long believed was gone forever was now given back to him.

His sister was alive.

After twenty-one years wondering how life with Eloise would have been, he was given the chance of experiencing it for real.

Theodore just needed to be patient and examine the situation at the best of his abilities before deciding on the best course of action.

It wasn't going to be easy.

It was Hermione Granger he was talking about.

Just when he thought his father couldn't have screwed up his life more.

He skimmed again through the last portion of the letter, where the detail had been given away.

His parents had replaced a dead muggle child with Eloise a few days after she was born, afraid of what the Dark Lord could have done to their family, and their children, if he ever found out.

Theodore couldn't say he understood their motives completely, but he remembered the terrified look on his mother's face whenever someone would mention His name.

Anastasia Nott definitely hadn't been a supporter of the cause, so Theodore convinced himself that the idea of hiding his twin with muggles must had been hers.

Why did they never say a word to him, though?
Why didn't they go back and bring Eloise home after Tom Riddle had died the first time?

Too many questions were haunting his mind, but he had no one to talk to who could answer them.

He just had to find her, only then he could think of what to do next.

.

1.
PILOT

.

"fly with the birds in the wind, where you wanna go,
who, what, why, when? on a scale from nine to ten"

(Nott Enterprises, Diagon Alley, London, England,
June 17th, 2002, around 18:30 p.m.)

Finding Eloise was the hardest thing he'd ever tried to accomplish.

Harder than running from the Death Eaters during the Battle of Hogwarts, harder than coming back to his family home when everyone else was never going to be there ever again.

If only he could find her, then maybe he wouldn't get chills anytime the wind blowed and something moved in the gardens.

Theodore Nott never really recovered from the war.

The fear and the anger were impossible to erase overnight after they'd been chipping at his soul for years.

It had been little more than a year since he'd discovered the truth about his sister's death, or better, his sister's survival, and even though terrified by the confrontation they'd eventually end up having, he knew for sure that finding her was crucial if he wanted any chance not to recover, but at least to improve his current status.

At the age of twenty-two, Theo didn't understand where his life was going.

Moreover, he didn't really care.

Seven months before he had returned to the Manor and took the reins of the family's business, Nott Enterprises.

At first it had been quite rough: with no experience in that field, or any field at all, he had struggled to understand what where the internal dynamics of the company and who were the people he could trust.

After the first month he was able to see the end of the day with less than two mental breakdowns, which was quite the record considering how he'd dealt with his new job in the first few weeks.

He wasn't used to be this emotional, or at least he wasn't used to show it.

This wasn't the life he'd chosen for himself. He didn't care if it wasn't as bad as it was supposed to be in the beginning. He didn't got the mark, that much was true, but witches and wizards still looked at him like he was the Dark Lord himself.

The same name who once had made him proud now was an unbearable source of shame.

If Theodore got to choose, he'd consider leaving England, or at least moving far away from London, where everybody knew his face and the reason why is father had died locked up in Azkaban.

With a small knock on the door his secretary announced her presence. "I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Nott. Mr. Zabini is requesting a meet-".

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Blaise, darling?" The wizard entered the room before Lauren could announce him.

With a frown she turned her gaze back to her boss, slightly bowing her head in a mute apology. "I am mortified, Mr. Nott. He never listens to me when I say he needs to wait outside for me to check on your availability and announce your presence. I'm very, very sorry".

"It's not a problem, Lauren. Blaise is always welcome in here".

The witch blushed, then turned on her heels and disappeared.

Lauren Sterne had graduated from Hogwarts two years before, she was a former member of Hufflepuff and definitely a lifesaver to him.

Theo was about to reproach Zabini for checking her out as she walked out of his office, but then changed his mind. He was never going to change.

It was quite reassuring, actually, how some things would always stay the same way.

"She's very nice", the other wizard casually pointed out.

"Don't you even think about it. She's the only thing preventing me from drowning in these papers. You can fuck any girl you want, but not my secretary. Have I made myself clear?"

"Relax, mate. I was just trying to make some conversation, besides I didn't say anything offensive, did I? I said she's nice, in a girl-next-door, hermionegranger-ish kind of way".

He just didn't, did he?
Theo was suddenly desperate for a change of subject. He cleared his throat. "Why are you here, by the way?", he asked.

"Dinner, tonight. Pansy's back. I managed to get Draco, too, and you know how hard that is to accomplish as of lately. I won't take a no for an answer".

"Do I have the time to get a change of clothing, at least?"

"Nope. Put away those papers, we're leaving as soon as possible".

Theo sighed, but ultimately followed the orders.

On their way out they greeted Lauren, who looked pleased at the idea of finally being able to go home.

It was a non-spoken rule between the two of them, which had urged him, truth must be told, to raise her salary twice since she'd started working for him: she wouldn't leave the office before him.

Once outside the building he allowed Blaise to side-apparate him, and a moment later the two landed in a spot of Muggle London they'd grown to consider safe for such purpose.

After about fifteen minutes of walking they finally reached the restaurant selected for the evening.

It had opened recently and served sushi, which wasn't really his favourite thing to eat, but it looked nice, clean and polished.

It was too cold for the two to wait outside, so they entered and asked for their table.

The point of choosing a place in muggle London was that they could go unnoticed and have a nice evening: nobody would have inspected them at the door or gave them looks of disgust.

The wizarding world wasn't very welcoming towards their bunch, nowadays, and in places like Diagon Alley there were even commercial activities where "Death Eaters cannot enter" signs were displayed.

Despite the fact only one person in their group was marked, Draco, none of them had tried entering into one of those: it was the idea of being Death Eaters that was marked in their names and history.

Muggles were less prejudiced, and their intriguing universe was a much more appealing choice for their Theo and his friends if they wanted to have fun on a night out.

He'd almost come to like them for this specific reason, which was quite the accomplishment considering his upbringing.

Though he wasn't exactly someone you'd call bloodthirsty, his father had been quite opinionated as to which he thought their place should be.

He doubted his mother would share such views, nonetheless he'd had no chance of verifying his idea: she'd fell ill long before such topics had become everything his father would talk about.

Remembering his letter, however, Theo couldn't help but wondering how much of those talks had been demanded or supplied by Voldemort instead of Cantankerus.

"What do you think she'll look like?", Blaise suddenly asked.

"Who? Pansy? Umh, I don't know. She can't have changed that much, I suppose. It'll probably depend on how she spent the last three years".

Zabini seemed satisfied with his answer. He nodded and didn't reply.

Pansy arrived five minutes later.

Everything about her seemed different, except for the hair: still dark, still short, same bangs.

She had lost weight since the last time they'd seen her, but she didn't look overly skinny. Just very small.

She was wearing a little black dress and the highest heels Theodore had ever seen.

He exchanged a knowing look with Blaise. Her life was probably amazing.

"Merlin, let me see you. You are beautiful. Bellissima", said, always the gentleman, Blaise, who kissed the back of her hand before pulling her into a hug.

Theo didn't know the exact translation of the Italian word his half-Italian friend had just complimented her with, but the blush on the witch's cheeks confirmed his suspicions about its endearing quality.

He stood up a moment later, kissing her hand as well, and then her cheeks. "I must say I agree with Blaise. You really are beautiful, Pansy", he complimented.

She gave them her sweetest smile before she promptly sat at the table.

She'd probably noticed the muggles eyeing them. He had, too, he just couldn't figure out why.

"The hand-kissing thing, guys", Pansy explained when they sat down again, "It's a little vintage for them, you know. I'm pretty sure that lady over there", she said, shamelessly pointing her perfectly manicured index finger at her, "Just had a big argument with her husband because he doesn't do things like that. Not anymore, at least. Considering their age, they are probably really vintage too".

"Oh, how I missed this woman". Draco had finally arrived; he hugged her for what felt like a century, then took his seat in front of her, on the chair next to Theodore's. "Are we waiting for someone else?", he asked when the greetings officially stopped.

"No, we are not. Daphne and Astoria are currently visiting Spain with their parents, while Greg was supposed to come, but then called me and said something else came up. I think he might finally be proposing, actually", said Blaise, who'd been in charge of putting the entire group together for the night.

"I get to have dinner with the best of the best, so I wouldn't complain too much", Pansy teased. "I'm sure I'll get to catch up with everyone else very soon. But wait… what did you say? Goyle is proposing? To whom?", she asked, excitedly.

For those who had been knowing her since a very young age, as they did, it was pretty obvious that she couldn't quite imagine such an event happening.

"Well, he's not the same kid we went to school with, that's for sure", Theo hurried to explain. "He's been with Tracey Davis for almost two years now".

"And she's even hotter than she was in school", Blaise smirked.

"Well, this is unexpected", she replied with a smile, "But I am very happy for him. If someone deserves some kind of happiness, that's Goyle for sure. Now, tell me how my best friends are doing, you were always so cryptical in your letters. That is, when you at least had the decency to send one".

"We are sorry, Pans", spoke Draco for all of them.

"We didn't want to drag you into our personal hell, things haven't been the best in England for Slytherins, Purebloods or Death Eater's relatives. Especially when you fit inside of two or more categories".

They spent the rest of the evening simply catching up.

They laughed and ate sushi. They drunk and exchanged anecdotes from those parts of their lives that probably would never cross paths, shared their opinions on recent Wizengamot's laws, especially the one that was going to raise the monthly tax that each family remotely connected to the Dark Lord (even by mistake) had to pay to the Ministry of Magic.

The wrong surname sufficed to make you subject to it.

"They finished paying for the damages a century ago. Most families from the Sacred 28 are on that list, most families whose members tend to be sorted in Slytherin are there, too. Apparently, there was a lot of them in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and even one or two in Gryffindor. I don't think it's our money they're after, I believe it's our pride. And they also want to make sure we'll never take a step out of the line again, which it's totally comprehensible".

It was Blaise who took it upon himself to voice what everyone was thinking.

Zabini had been neutral during the war, but never left his friends when things got tougher, so he was labelled a Death Eater even though the only crime that needed investigation in his family was the weird statistic tendency of his mother's husbands to die shortly after the marriage.

Not much later, as they were finishing their dinner, Draco dropped another bomb. "Oh, Pansy. I believe I forgot to mention that I have a daughter".

Theodore and Blaise weren't shocked by the admission, as he'd told them about it not long after discovering it himself, but Theo was amused by Pansy's reaction, nonetheless: at first she blinked a couple times, pinching herself on the cheek as if she wanted to check on the realness of her present, then asked him to repeat himself. When Malfoy had done so, Pansy just shrugged and said: "I want to meet her. How old is she? I bet she's so pretty. I can't believe you have a child, Draco".

"I couldn't believe it myself. So, you don't ask me about her mother?", he queried.

"Like that would matter. She's your child, she's genetically designed to be pretty. It could be McGonagall's own flesh and blood and she'd still be pretty", the witch reassured him with a smile.

"Well, I think she's very pretty, but I might be a little biased on this front", Draco complied. "Her mother is definitely not McGonagall, but there's more to this story. I met Adhara's mum when I was in probation".

"You mean when you were exiled and living with muggles?", she inquired.

"She was a muggle", he admitted with a shrug. Then he looked up and smiled at their oldest female friends, the only one who'd been admitted to their boys-only group long before they'd started Hogwarts. "We lived in the same apartment".

"She was?", was the only piece of information Pansy bothered to give attention to.

"She died. That's how I discovered about Adhara in the first place. It probably happened after I told her I was going to leave. She didn't know I'm a wizard, obviously, and at the time it wasn't much of a problem since the Ministry kept my wand for the whole two years. My daughter was born in April, it was her mother's sister who called me. She died giving birth at the muggle hospital and I was still her emergency contact. I was lucky I kept a telephone around when my probation ended, I suppose. I think it's way less bothering than picking up ink, parchment and quill, write, tie the letter to the owl and then send him away, anyway. Muggles have such a simpler life".

"I am so, so sorry about what happened, Draco", said Pansy, sorrow and concern palpable in her voice as she took in the news. "Tell me more about your little girl".

"Well, she's barely two, so there isn't much she says, already. The only thing I'm sure of, is that she'll be the first Malfoy not to be sorted in Slytherin over the past three centuries. She makes the Elves crazy, all she does is running around breaking old jars and ornaments. Mother couldn't care less, though. She's in love with Adhara almost as much as I am", said the blond, complying to her request.

After months of wondering, Theo finally managed the courage to ask. "What about Lucius?"

His best friend visibly stiffened. "Lucius doesn't know, yet. Next year, when he'll get out of prison, it'll be the first thing I'll tell him. I hope I've already found a place for me and Adhara to live in by then. I don't think I could manage living under the same roof as him anymore".

"How do you think he'll take the news?", Blaise chimed in, apparently invested in the answers to the same questions he'd just voiced.

On the other side of the table, Pansy crossed her hands under her chin, slightly leaning towards Draco as the wizard finally answered. "Guys, you can say it, you know? What will Lucius Malfoy think of his Half-blood granddaughter?" There was harshness in his words, but also a big portion of sarcasm tapped with irony dressing. He didn't believe in all that blood-status bullshit anymore. Theo knew that he hadn't in a very long time. No one inside their circle still did. "I'm pretty certain we will have the same rocky and emotionless relationship we always had, but to some degree I have forgiven my father for his past actions. I know I won't forgive him if he disrespect my child, though. Neither will my mother. Ask me in a year and a half and, hopefully, I'll have a better answer to give you".

Nobody dared saying another word after that, not until the waitress returned with their bill.

All three men picked up their wallet, but Pansy moved faster. She gave the girl a silver, shiny credit card and told her to keep an extra 50 pounds and buy herself something nice.

Her three friends were slightly taken aback. It wasn't very customary for women to pay when they were out with men inside of Pureblood circles: it was a semi-unspoken rule they were taught from a very young age (it wasn't fashionable not to provide for them, apparently), one they couldn't exactly explain or justify, nor one they thought much about, so they'd never bothered questioning it. Clearly Pansy had.

"Where'd you get that?", Zabini asked, eyeing her VISA as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

"You're not the only people who lived with muggles, you know?", was her cheerful reproach.

In that moment the waitress was back with the receipt and Pansy's card.

On their way to the nearest apparition point, the foursome spoke of seeing each other again very soon.

It was nice to spend a night out without everyone stabbing you with their eyes.

Draco was the first to leave, and he dis-apparated after promising Pansy that he'd write to her first thing the morning after to make plans about introducing her to his daughter.

He'd seemed positively elated by the request, and considering how proud he was of his child, it didn't surprise Theo very much: he and Blaise were probably not the best option when it came to enthuse over a baby.

The dark-skinned wizard left shortly after, giving one more one-sided hug to both Pansy and Theodore.

As soon as they were left on their own, the witch raised her head and met his gaze. "I'm sorry about your father, Theo".

He cringed. "Yeah, it was- Thank you, Pansy".

"Owl me if you ever need to talk about it", she recommended.

The witch kissed his cheek and dis-apparated.

Standing alone on the street, Theo soon followed his friends' footsteps and apparated home as well.

Once in the Manor he went straight to bed, his mind finally made up.

Unfortunately, when he entered the Auror Department the following morning, Harry Potter was nowhere to be found.

He'd thought about asking directly where Hermione Granger could be found, as she seemed to have disappeared only a few months after the Battle of Hogwarts to never return.

He could face people staring inside the DMLE and ask for the Golden Boy's help, but what could he possibly achieve against bad luck? That's what it was. It had to be.

The young wizard at the only occupied desk informed him that Potter would return at the end of the summer. The Auror added something about a spiritual journey in east Asia, but he wasn't listening at that point.

Theo was about to leave when a familiar spot of ginger hair entered the office.

"Is everything ok, Trev?", asked Ronald Weasley when he noticed his presence.

"Yeah, sure. Mr. Nott here was looking for Harry Potter, Sir".

"Well, Harry is not here now", the red-haired drawled in his direction. "You should return in September".

"Maybe it's something you can help me with", he tried, swallowing hard what was left of his pride.

Theodore didn't like the idea of asking the Weasel for help one bit, but it was still better than leaving without any new information on his twin sister's whereabouts.

"Oh, yeah? That I really want to hear. What can I do for you, Nott?", Ron urged.

The Auror didn't seem too bothered by talking to him, so he went straight to the point, hoping his efforts will finally start producing some results. "Where can I find Hermione Granger?"

"I don't see how that is any of your business", was the wizard's stern reply.

Theo had felt stupid one second after he'd asked the question: why would Ronald Weasley, of all people, do him a favour? Why would anybody?

The world had changed after the war.

He was no longer in the position of asking for anything from anyone inside the Ministry, no matter he had no criminal record whatsoever and he'd had actually been busy trying to make amends for his father's mistakes: nobody cared about Theodore or the Nott family anymore.

He was just a piece of dirt under the average wizard or witch's shoes.

"I would like to, umh- I would like to apologize for how I behaved in her regards during our time at Hogwarts", he blurted out.

He dared to hope his lie was good enough when the Auror's gaze softened a little. "I don't recall you being particularly mean, at least not to Hermione", Ron said, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Well, maybe I wasn't, but some of my friends definitely were", he conceded. "I would really like to tell her I'm sorry that I never explicitly told them to shut up".

"That's unexpectedly nice of you, but I'm afraid I still can't tell you where she is. Only Harry knows it for sure, but even he hasn't seen her in years. I'll make sure he'll pass the message when he comes back from his trip. Urgh, thank you? I suppose".

After his conversation with Weasley, Theo Nott had lost all hope he'd ever find his sister.

It was like she'd moved to another planet.

(Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland,
March 1st, 2003, around 9:55 a.m.)

After his conversation with Weasley, Theo Nott had lost all hope he'd ever find his twin sister.

It was like she'd moved to another planet.

"Malfoy Manor!", he had shouted as soon as he'd apparated into his personal studio at home and stepped into the floo.

Narcissa had greeted him with a puzzled look, not used to unannounced guests, or lately to receiving guests at all lately, her breakfast cup of tea still suspended mid-air. "Hello, Theodore. What brings you in my parlour at nine in the morning?"

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy. I'm sorry to bother you", he'd apologized. "I must urgently speak with Draco. It's a matter of great importance".

The woman had smiled and invited him to sit with her, then called for one of her House-Elves and sent her to look for the young master.

Draco arrived ten minutes later, holding his daughter in one arm.

Narcissa stood up, took the toddler and left with the excuse of serving Adhara's breakfast in her personal garden, as the sun and nice atmosphere would've cheered them both up for the day out ahead of them.

"Hey, mate. Sorry I didn't announce myself. I need your help", he said when they were left alone.

He'd then told Draco everything.

Theodore had realized he could do with some help after all, so he'd went straight to his closest friend.

His reaction to the news had been funny to watch: Malfoy had visibly gulped, then embarrassed himself with what was supposed to be an apology for his past behavior; at last, he'd not-so-cleverly stated: "Man, haven't seen her in ages".

Now they were finally ready to put their plan into motion.

A year later and every little variable considered, he would finally get his chance to proper meet his sister and eventually let his mind have a much needed rest. "Do you think McGonagall will laugh in our faces?", he asked as the two walked side by side, following the familiar path to the Headmistress' office that nothing could erase from their memories.

They had arrived at Hogwarts very early in the morning, hours before their appointment with the Headmistress, so they'd wandered around the first level of the school for a little, eventually settling in sitting on a bench in the courtyard where they used to spend their free periods as students.

It was the same courtyard were Draco had been turned into a ferret.

Minerva McGonagall received them at 10 a.m.

"Good morning, Mr. Nott. Good morning, Mr. Malfoy", she greeted them from behind the impressive wooden desk. "I must admit that I was curious of what the two of you needed an appointment with me for", she added, barely raising her eyes from the parchment in her hands and obviously leaving them no space for small talk of any kind.

"We are sorry to interrupt you, Headmistress", Draco apologized, "We have been working on a project for a long time and we would like to include you and the school in it. I know you might be skeptical, but please, hear us out".

Her attitude was still far from friendly, but she invited them to continue with a simple gesture of her hand, clearly intrigued.

"We'd like to organize a small party for the students that were in our year. I believe the right definition would be reunion. We are here to ask you if you could possibly consider to allow us to book Hogwarts as the location. Of course, we'd take care of all costs and expenses", the blond explained.

"Why?", their old Professor inquired.

"I'm sorry, Headmistress, but isn't it obvious? We have all gone to school here and this is a reunion", said Draco before turning his head in Theo's direction. Duh?

"I think the Headmistress wants to know why we of all people would like to host such an event in the first place", Theo finally spoke up.

The woman nodded, grateful for his perceptiveness. If he remembered correctly, Minerva McGonagall valued pragmatism and straight-forwardness more than anything else.

"We haven't been the best people when we studied here, have we? We would like to start building some of the bridges our teachers constantly talked about", he continued.

"I believe that could be arranged, Mr. Nott", the Headmistress conceded. "I can't let you have your party until the term is over, obviously. It certainly won't be happening before the tenth of June".

"That would be lovely", Draco chimed in once more, though the sarcasm dripping from the last word didn't go unnoticed. "The complete guest-list would be no longer than a hundred, a hundred and fifty people, we promise".

Minerva blinked. "I don't remember such a number of students belonging to the class of 1991. Perhaps you want to reconsider that number, Mr. Malfoy. I'm absolutely certain there were no more than twelve, perhaps fifteen students in Slytherin that year".

"The party is not reserved to just Slytherin, Headmistress. We don't need to build bridges with people we've known our entire life", Theo explained, "The reunion is for all students in our year, which includes Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and, well, Gryffindor, too. We were about fifty-something and some of us will probably be married at this point, maybe with children. And we also thought we could invite a couple of retired professors, maybe the Minister-"

"You certainly have an ambitious plan, but I'm not entirely sure this will be a good idea", the witch said quietly. "I still remember how many accidents happened in Hogwarts when you were students. Perhaps you should choose a more neutral location-"

"I don't see what harm may come with a party, Minerva. I remember the Yule Ball going perfectly fine during their fourth year", interrupted Dumbledore's voice from the portrait hanged in the wall behind the Headmistress. The frame wasn't too large, nor the scenery the old wizard was painted in was too much of a work of art.

All of the painter's attention must have been focused on the Headmaster's eyes, because those were perfectly convincing: sage and bittersweet, they shined with half-concealed amusement.

Theo and Draco visibly gulped under his visual inspection.

The old wizard still wore his half-moon shaped glasses and the usual light blue robe, and his beard looked longer than ever.

"You're right, Albus, but Hogwarts has never hosted such an event before, and-", his old friend and fellow Gryffindor tried to reason with him.

"What are you really scared of, Minerva? The boys here will take care of the practical aspects, like organizing and paying, while you will only have to enjoy an evening with some of your favourite students of all times", Dumbledore argued, and if it wasn't so helpful and appreciated, Theo would have found his stubbornness on the matter quite odd. "You see how stretched out our society is, perhaps one or two more parties will be more helpful than the nonsense the Wizengamot is passing as laws nowadays".

The Headmistress sighed. "I see", she said, though she sounded more like she was admitting her surrender rather than agreeing with him. "Well, then, the tenth of June it is".

"There's one more thing", Theo prompted.

It was the remaining part of their plan: in the unfortunate case the party itself wasn't enough to lure Hermione Granger in, perhaps her love for the castle could achieve that same goal.

After the war Hogwarts had been just as destroyed as the wizarding community, a palpable, visible metaphor, but the funds provided by the Ministry hadn't been enough to completely fix it.

A sufficient number of classes and all the four dormitories had been remade, but most areas of the building were now a case of forbidden access to both students and teachers.

The whole thing had been sold by the Prophet as a precaution to assure safety, but it really was only the government's phrasing for If an accident happens we are not responsible, but also their way of not spending the necessary money on the school and post-pone its reparation.

Despite all his current actions were dictated by sheer egoism, Theo Nott really believed the centuries-old castle could benefit from the event. "We have been reading about the cuts on your budget, Headmistress. We were thinking that maybe we could hold an auction before the real party begins. All profits would be given to Hogwarts to complete reparations", he finally found the courage to propose.

Now it was up to Minerva McGonagall to see if she could look past the entitled, hateful children they'd been and accept the help of the troubled, but definitely more open-minded and philanthropic men they'd become. "I admit the idea is endearing, Mr. Nott", she yielded. "We are in the middle of a massive financial struggle, but I'm afraid you're still missing a detail".

Impossible, was both Draco and Theodore's first thought.

Their plan was so detailed they had had to write it down to be sure not to forget a single part of it, and they knew each word, variable and comma of it by heart.

"We have nothing to sell in the auction", the Headmistress insisted.

"We'll both make donations", Draco promptly reassured her. "And I'm sure a couple of our friends will do the same. I believe we could also put a discreet note in the invitations, asking those who can afford it to give something up for the auction, too. We all went to school here, I want to hope most of us didn't turn out to be greedy and heartless". Perhaps his friends was bending the boundaries a little too much and going to far in his appeal to the older witch, but seeing as it seemed to be working, Theo didn't interrupt her as he begun to speak again. "I am perfectly certain that once people like Harry Potter make a donation, anyone will simply just follow, no questions asked".

"I will take care of the auction, though", she countered, eyeing them sadly. "We don't want any bad press coming out of this. As unjust as that may sound, I hope we understand each other".

He snorted. It was the polite way of saying people would never trust them to handle it, but they gave their consent anyway: it was the best compromise they could hope to achieve.

They were too close to the goal to be petty and focus on what the public opinion thought about them. "We do. We'll keep in touch as we proceed to organize the event", he said.

They didn't prolong their stay much longer after that.

With the help of the Headmistress they decided what to write in the invitations, which McGonagall reassured would be sent as soon as possible.

On their way out, Draco stopped by the doorjamb and fixed his gaze on the woman's. "If it's not a problem, we were hoping to keep our names out of the invitation".

"You don't want people to know you two are paying for all of this?", she inquired.

"We don't care about that", Theo replied. "But a lot of people probably won't show up if we tell them before they're already here. All we really want is to help the school, and for everyone to have a nice evening. We'll just act like we are simple guests, if that sits well with you".

With nothing else to add, they quickly excused themselves, walked back to the gates outside and said goodbye to each other as they both returned to their lives.

Theodore's personal invitation arrived three days later, and it was personally delivered to him by the Elf he'd given the responsibility of periodically checking his mail for the letter.

"Master's letter has arrived", she announced in the morning, when she apparated on his side and scared the shit out of him as he ate his breakfast. "Praline came here straightaway".

The first thing he noticed was that the Headmistress had made some adjustments to their choice of words, but he didn't mind it as it now sounded much more warm and relaxed.

He'd always hated his lessons of rhetoric.

Dear former student,
the Headmistress and the Hogwarts stuff as a whole
are very pleased to invite you to the Class of 1991 Reunion
that will be hosted in The Great Hall of the castle
on the 10th of June.

The school's carriages will be waiting
for you in Hogsmeade from five to seven thirty p.m.

The buffet will be preceded by an auction,
whose profits will be used to repair the castle,
which is, sadly, still incredibly damaged by
the Battle of May 2

nd. Donations of any amount
or value are welcome and appreciated.

Music and drinks will be provided until 12 a.m.

You are invited to confirm your participation for organization purposes.
Friends and family are welcome to join you.

My honest regards,
Minerva McGonagall

People reacted to the invitation in many different ways.

At the Burrow, were the usual Sunday lunch was taking place, Ronald and his wife Lavender exchanged a look before nodding their mutual agreement about their attendance. Things were tense between them after barely two years of marriage, and they both believed that maybe a night out could do some good to their relationship.

Harry beamed at the piece of parchment in his hands, then he invited anyone who'd like to join him at the party to come along, as he considered each and every one of them to be family.

The entire Weasley clan agreed with the exception of Bill and Charlie, who did not live in England and therefore missed most Sunday lunches.

Molly promised she'd try to talk them into attending the upcoming event, but Fleur was rather late on her second pregnancy, and so she expected her oldest son to decline her invitation. She couldn't wait to meet Dominique, though.

The only one who hadn't voiced her opinion was Ginny, who had staid quiet, eating her supper, since the whole conversation had begun. She could feel Harry's eyes burning the crown of her head. "What?", she snapped.

Since they'd broken up things had been really awkward between them.

The night they officially ended their relationship they'd said some pretty terrible things to each other and though Harry had made some efforts to keep things civil between them, Ginny just couldn't bear the pressure of her entire family trying to push them back together.

Like they were meant to be. Obviously they were not, or they would have worked out by now.

"Will you come too? It'll be fun", he quietly replied.

Molly gave her an hopeful look, lips curled up in a hopeful smile.

Ginny put on an equally sappy face. "Of course I'll be there", she declared, as if the thought of her not going was one of sheer madness. "My boyfriend got his letter yesterday night".

"That's cool", said Harry, who then took a sip of his Pumpkin Juice with a smile on his face. "I was actually thinking this reunion would be the perfect occasion to introduce you to my new girlfriend as well".

Anyone was left speechless, except for Ronald, whose focus was on his dish but who also already knew about the recent development in his dating life, and George, who couldn't care less about playing matchmaker with either Harry or his sister.

Molly tried to hide her disappointment by serving the dessert, while Arthur changed the subject on the last laws passed by the Wizengamot, but only Percy seemed interested in the new topic.

For the first time in years, everyone was actually happy lunch was finally over.

At the Three Broomsticks, were a small gathering of ex D.A. members was taking place, the already infamous reunion was anything people could talk about.

They'd all received their letters in the previous days, someone earlier and someone later depending on the geographical location of their houses and the time needed by the school's owls to reach them.

Parvati Patil bragged about the dress she'd already bought for the occasion, while her sister Padma barely confirmed she'd attend, not too excited by the idea of a party.

Troublemaker and club owner Seamus Finnigan nudged his best mate, Dean Thomas, who'd been an Auror for almost three years now, and both agreed to be there, too.

Party-enthusiast Neville Longbottom shared a list of the legal and illegal substances he'd make sure to sneak into the party, while pragmatic Anthony Goldstein, an Auror once again, muttered something about having no idea what to donate for the auction.

Many shared the feeling, but everyone at the table, from celebrity Quidditch player Cho Chang to Daily Prophet's reporter Susan Bones, agreed on one point: they were going to try and help the school as much as they possibly could.

In the lovely suburban house just outside of London in which he lived with his gorgeous wife, Tracey Davis, and their recently born daughter, Faith, McGonagall's letter had been welcomed by the woman with a smile so sweet Gregory didn't find the courage to tell her he wasn't comfortable going back there.

He hadn't since the Battle of Hogwarts, when Crabbe had died.

Perhaps it was time he faced the last and darkest of the demons haunting him.

Pansy Parkinson read the letter while sipping her favorite French wine, a pop muggle song playing in the background from the stereo in her kitchen.

Intrigued by the upcoming event, she promptly typed her best friend's number on her smartphone and waited for her to pick up on her call.

When she did, she talked relentlessly and for so long that her dinner burned in the oven.

The owl reached Daphne Greengrass as she lied down, bathing in the sun of a beautiful beach in Santorini with her sister's company.

She quickly extended the invitation to his sister, and the two spent the remaining of their afternoon talking about what they should expect from the reunion.

On the other side of the world, Hermione Granger wondered why her past had decided to bite her back in the ass just now.

Author's notes.
Hello, everybody! This is how my new story begins.

I've been wanting to take my chance on the "Hermione is a Pureblood" trope since forever and now I'm finally ready to share with you the first chapter.

I hope you enjoy the story so far, and I can't wait to see you on the next update!

I'd also love for you to review and give a look at the blog I created for this fic, it took a lot of time and effort and I'm kinda proud of how it turned out lol. :)

update (05/18/19): the much needed spacing has been added to this chapter. Sorry it took me so long to fix it, but since I decided to revision the first part of the story I thought it was worth it to do it properly and correct the other typos and mistakes scattered around.
If I missed something (I bet on it), please send me a dm so that I can fix it.