ALL THE WRONG COLORS

Summary: An unacknowledged handfasting, an unclaimed child, and a sanctioned visit to Azkaban. Follow the path of a young witch trying to fit into the Wizarding World as a muggleborn, then finding herself needing and struggling to understand pureblood politics.

Main Characters: Hermione Granger, Antonin Dolohov

Ch1: Bloodline Revelations

Chapter Summary: Antonin not only gets to see a familiar face, but also the shock of a lifetime.

"Get up, Dolohov." The grating sound of a familiar voice woke Antonin Dolohov from his slumber. "Get up now." the words came out harsher this time, "I said-"

"Get up, I know," snapped Dolohov as he stood up, wobbly, from his cot - if you could even call it that. "What's this about?"

"You've got a visitor. Now come on."

That had the man pausing in his actions. "A visitor?" He did not bother hiding his surprise.

"Believe me, I'm just as surprised as you are. It's the first time we've ever had any visitors aside from the Minister, didn't think it was actually possible," said Dawlish as he opened the door Dolohov's cell. The incarcerated man's hands were immediately bound by conjured ropes and he was practically frogmarched by the auror to the lower floors, passing by a few curious inmates along the way; after all, it wasn't everyday they were escorted out of their cells. There were no words exchanged between Antonin and Dawlish, nothing to silence the violent thrum of the practically-demonic magic of Dementors.

When the door to the visiting cells, Antonin had to take a moment, eyes adjusting to the light in the room. He had not been prepared. Not at all. Seeing a practical replica of his former paramour, although younger and with the wrong coloring, was not something he had anticipated. He had stepped back - directly onto Dawlish who simply grunted and pushed him unceremoniously into the room. His dark eyes did not snap away from the girl when he was all but forced into a chair, nor did he pay any attention as the auror and his visitor exchanged a few words while the man adjusted his bindings to the table.

"You have an hour, Miss. Don't hesitate to alert us when something happens."

"Thank you, sir. You said this visit will be not monitored, yes?"

"Yes, unless you want it to be?"

"No, thank you. Out of Mr. Dolohov's privacy, I'd rather not."

"Alright. The hour begins when the door closes behind me."

"Thank you again." The door closed with a snap, causing Antonin to shoot a wary glance at the door before he turned back to the girl. Surprise colored his features when he saw the witchling had her wand out and was waving and casting with a mumble.

"Sorry, I had to make sure there were no monitoring spells." The accent was all wrong for someone with Rosier features. She had no faint French lilt like Katerine and Evan did. "Oh, where are my manners? I'm Hermione Granger." The smile was all wrong as well; the child practically bared her teeth.

"Dagworth-Granger?" He asked, voice raspy.

"No, just Granger. It's a muggle last name." There was apprehension in the girl's eyes as she said this; she had to know who he was after all.

Antonin refused to believe the girl was a mudblood, the features were all Rosier. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm adopted. From Russia." Antonin suddenly felt light-headed. "I wanted to know if there were any information about my biological parents, but I had to set the notion aside because I found out about magic. The curiosity about my birth parents came back full-force though, when I saw some old yearbooks and I came across a picture of Katerine-"

It seemed that the witchling was going to ramble on, so Antonin decided to interrupt her, sitting up straighter in his seat. "You look a lot like her."

The corner of her mouth twitched, "Wrong colors though, don't you think?"

"Quite. Katerine had blonde hair and much paler skin, even Evan had hair shades lighter than yours and he had the darkest colors in his family."

"I thought so too," the girl nodded, folding her arms on the table in between them, "I had to wonder though why no one ever pointed out how much I looked like her, especially considering how small the gene pool is in the community. I looked at the timeline; she - and her brother - went to school with some of my classmates' parents and some of them have seen me in the train station."

"How old are you?"

"Thirteen, turning fourteen in September." Antonin had to close his eyes for a brief second; the girl was too much to look at once the math fell in place. He had offered Katerine Rosier sanctuary in his familial home in Russia after their handfasting fourteen years ago. Four generations of Dolohov might have lived in Britain, but their magic runs deeper in the motherland. Almost a year after the fact, he had left with Evan for a skirmish and was subsequently captured while his comrade had been killed in battle.

"I figured," Hermione continued when Antonin didn't make any further comment, "-that maybe they thought I was just a doppelganger because Katerine had left Britain fifteen years ago; but still I was a dead ringer for Evan Rosier. I've seen photos of him too; they looked alike."

"Evan was not in any relationship at the time." He pointed out.

"Rosiers pride themselves in sex magic as much as Dolohovs and Notts, you're not fooling anyone if you say he didn't have any pre-marital engagements." The retort was delivered with such sass Antonin couldn't help but snort.

"If you know that much about the family magic, then surely you know that families like ours pride ourselves in engaging safe practices where no pregnancy will occur unless there's a bond."

"Like a handfasting." The man looked at her sharply, "Britain doesn't quite recognise handfasting rituals as an actual bond, but the Rosiers are of French descent and France is very keen on acknowledging handfasted couples."

"So you found out that Evan was not handfasted-"

"-and that Katerine was handfasted to you... which explains all the wrong colors and why I was adopted from Russia of all places."

There was a moment of silence as they regarded each other. Antonin thought to himself that he should be having doubts, that he should demand proof, but the girl looked much like Katherine her heritage could hardly be denied. He could barely contain his emotions; delight that he had a daughter, sadness that he could not have been there for her, anger that she had not been raised with magic. And there was also, of course, a certain pride that the witchling checked for spells. This was not a conversation he wanted to get out of this room, as much as he wanted to properly recognise her as the Dolohov heir. His service to the Dark Lord was known... and in his defeat... The revelation would only be a crippling blow to the girl's future prospects.

Instead of wallowing in his thoughts, he asked instead, "Did you ever find out what happened to her?"

"Yes, I called the orphanage and the hospital. They told me she had been out and there was an accident of sorts, they didn't really say much about it, but she had been an innocent bystander. Said she was barely able to survive the induced childbirth to name me."

"Why weren't any of the Rosiers notified when she died?"

"She was out in the muggle world, she was left unidentified. If I hadn't seen her in Hogwarts photos first, I would have hit a dead end."

"What do you want out of this?"

"I don't know. I just... I had to meet you."

"Ravenclaw, are you?"

"No, Gryffindor, but the hat did consider."

"There have been Gryffindor Rosiers." The girl visibly brightened at the information. "Katerine was a Ravenclaw." He offered, though he thought the girl probably knew that already, but his daughter smiled at him encouragingly; teeth bared in the same manner he knew he did, "I was in Slytherin, so was your uncle." And that had him babbling, about how he and Katerine got along and how Evan had been happy to witness the handfasting even though his best mate was marrying his little sister. He also told her about the Lestrange brothers, cousins to the Roisers.

He had telling her about Katerine's friendship with Clara Selwyn - who he found out had married Thaddeus Nott and was about to tell her about his cousin who had married a Rowle if he remembered correctly, when he suddenly shut up and peered at Hermione, making the girl sit up straighter.

"You...You said your last name was Granger. You grew up muggle."

"Yes." Hermione nodded, her mouth set into a grim line now.

"You're going to school with a lot of pureblood heirs."

"I've been called mudblood, yes." Her dark eyes then flicked down to his arm - the Dark Mark was covered, but Antonin knew that she knew it was there. And proud as he was to be in the Dark Lord's guard, he could not deny the twinge of guilt that ran through him.

She then continued when he didn't speak again, "I-I realise this puts us at odds with each other; especially with my friendship with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley." Of course, both boys would have been Gryffindor with her. And as well as the Longbottom boy. "But... I-"

"You had to see me."

The answering nod was meek; something that, Antonin thought, did not suit someone who had both Rosier and Dolohov blood in them.

"I am not under any illusion that I have any say over you and your choices in friendship." He had to make this clear. While he would prefer to have his heir befriend a Rowle, a Nott or even a Flint or a Carrow, he practically had no say. He had been a basically just sperm-donor in this scenario.

"You are my paterfamilias." She shrugged slightly. "You might not have had the chance to properly acknowledge me as a scion, but my magic recognises you."

"What?" Antonin felt his eyebrows shoot into his forehead. It wasn't a normal occurence that one's own magic recognised another off the bat, which was why it was important that babies were held by the parents shortly after birth. And he knew his magical core was weakened by exposure to the Dementors and the general lack of usage.

"When you stepped into my vicinity, which was just past the door, I-I felt your magic wash over me." she gave him a tentative smile, "I've never experienced it before... but you felt familiar even though we hadn't met before."

"That's very curious. Dolohovs aren't particularly magic-sensitive, though the Rosiers might be. Evan was always grounded with his magic."

That had the girl brightening again, her mouth opening to probably shoot another question. Too bad, he would never find out because there was a short rap on the door before it opened, revealing Dawlish who raised an eyebrow at how lax both Hermione and Antonin were. "The hour is almost up. Might want to end the conversation soon."

"Alright, thank you, sir. I'll be out in five minutes." Hermione said after she glanced at her watch. The auror nodded and closed the door behind him again.

"What do you want out of this, then?" Antonin asked, leaning forward as much as he could. "My magic is all sorts of bound and weakened. I can't acknowledge you properly as the head of the Dolohov bloodline."

"I didn't come here for that. I came here for you. You may not have been what I expected, but you're still..."

"Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood." He continued for her, when she struggled to find words. "Will you come back?"

"I'd like to, if you're agreeable to it?"

"Of course. What did you say your reason was for visiting me?"

"Intellectual curiosity."

"What?"

"There are documents that say you created your own spells to help with curse-breaking, so I said I wanted to know what kind of methods you used."

"And they just allowed a thirteen year old girl get close to a Death Eater?"

Hermione shrugged, "It was a compensation for the fact I was petrified."

"What?!" Antonin would have liked to stand up in indignation, but he was bound to the table and would have likely broken his arms.

"Someone opened the Chamber of Secrets a few months ago and set loose a basilisk - which do not in fact petrify just muggleborns."

"I can't fucking believe it. What the hell?"

"I can't go further into details since our time is up, but I can explain when I come visit next?"

"You had better come back."

"I will." She gave him a very toothy grin as she stood up; a grin he'd seen in the mirror before. The girl hesitated slightly in her actions, giving him a quick appraisal before rounding the table and darting forward to hug him. Antonin froze. It has been a while since he has had any positive physical contact; his nostrils flared as he felt his magic reach out to Hermione - and the fact that she reached out with her own would have sent him to his knees if he hadn't been sitting down. "Thank you," was whispered into his ear before the warmth of his daughter's arms disappeared.

"Spasibo, solnyshko." He said just as she reached the door.

"Pozhaluysta, papa." Hermione threw over her shoulder, shooting him one last smile before opening the door and leaving through it.

The dementors would never take that smile away from him; he will not submit, not this time. He would place her warmth, her words - her - in his memory, guard them selfishly as he did memories of Katerine and the camaraderie of his brethren.

Author's Note: Pureblood!Hermione because why the heck not? Feedback is appreciated!

Updated: 29.07.2019