Chapter Text
June 1970
Hermione set down the Daily Prophet with a roll of her eyes, looking at the broad grin that Abraxas Malfoy was giving from the cover, having been sworn in as Minister of Magic just the day before. "He's so...so smarmy, so Malfoy," she told Rodolphus, disappointment in her voice. "I can't believe that you and Dumbledore actually agreed to work with him."
Rodolphus gave her a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Well, I doubt that we would have been able to kill Voldemort without his help. The man is obsessed with poison," he explained, having told Hermione about the portion of Malfoy's library that was dedicated to the sub-branch of potions.
"Oh, I think I could have killed him fairly easily," Hermione countered, feeling cross. "Not a single one of you Death Eaters even knew that I had a wand. I could have just cast the Killing Curse right at his back, and he never would have seen it coming."
"Yes, but then all the Death Eaters would have killed you, darling," he answered, with a frown. "And you were much too important to me and Daisy to let that happen."
Daisy sat on his lap, looking like too much of a big girl for Hermione's liking. Where had all the months gone, already? She couldn't believe that it was already time to start feeding her little witch solid foods, and judging by the mashed peas on Daisy's confused face, neither could she.
"Malfoy was a means to an end," Rodolphus added. "I know you might not believe it, but he never really was interested in the whole pureblood agenda. He only ever really cared about getting in power, and cozying up to whoever could give him power."
Hermione snorted. "Somehow, his future grandson doesn't get that message," she explained, her jaw tight when she thought of how much Draco Malfoy had abused her for being a muggleborn last go around. Of course, there was a significant chance that Draco wouldn't be that way any more, not now, at least. Surely, now Draco would think he was better than everyone else because his grandfather was Minister of Magic.
"You know I don't like it when you do that," Rodolphus whined, hating the way that Hermione would talk about the future. He found it very uncomfortable to know that she had all this information that she shouldn't possibly know about, especially when it wasn't even guaranteed to come true any more. He'd made her promise not to share casual details after she'd told him that Arthur and Molly were going to have a son named Bill in November who would go on to work at Gringotts bank.
She bit her lip. "Sorry," she apologized. It was so hard not to let little things slip out any more now that she had told Rodolphus the truth of where she came from. It was as if the floodgates had been opened and she could tell him anything she wanted now. After an initial discussion of her life experiences, he had been content not to know another detail of the future, not even potential sports scores.
"I know you don't think so, but I think that Malfoy might be a good Minister. He's kept his word so far," Rodolphus told her quietly. "And he handled our Bellatrix situation quite well."
Bellatrix had told everyone who would listen that Rodolphus had been responsible for the deaths of Tom Riddle and several of his supporters, including Rodolphus's own father. She insisted that Hermione Granger had been involved as well, despite evidence given that only a Miss Germain had been in attendance, and she'd disappeared off the face of the Earth after the party.
No, Abraxas had assured everyone that the deaths were caused by an unfortunate reaction when the black mead had been brewed. If done improperly, a sort of poison could be made as a by-product, and that was the case of the deaths at the Beltane party. It was even confirmed by the potions laboratory at the Ministry, Malfoy had told the general public.
Rosier, as host, had taken the fall.
And when Bellatrix had continued to cause issues for Rodolphus and Hermione, Malfoy had her taken for a mind wipe, to remove any trace of Voldemort from her mind. As Narcissa's future father-in-law, it was the least he could do to look after her sister.
The general public had been fascinated by the coverage of the deaths, mostly because the details of such pureblood rituals were so rarely shared with the wizarding world at large. To have so many influential men participating in Beltane created a new wave of interest in the traditions of old. Hermione had seen a rash of articles on how to plan the perfect summer solstice party just that year and the Board of Governors of Hogwarts announced that they would be considering re-adding it to the curriculum.
"Who's to say he won't snitch on us when it's convenient to him?" Hermione asked snidely, still not sure that she entirely trusted the blond, even though he had helped to take care of Bellatrix and fast-tracked her paperwork to reclaim her identity after she'd been declared dead the year before.
"Then we reveal his part in the conspiracy," Rodolphus reassured her. "Don't worry about it so much, darling."
It was hard not to expect things to go poorly, especially with the childhood she'd had, terrorized by Voldemort. It was hard to accept that it was actually, finally over.
A huff caught their attention, and Hermione turned her head to see Rabastan stomping into the dining room. Picking up his plate, he quickly shoveled food onto it, wanting to get in and out as quickly as possible. Only when Daisy gave a delighted shriek at seeing her uncle did Rabastan look up from his task, unable to hide his smile. But then, just as quickly as he was in, he was out, carrying his plate off to his room to eat alone.
"He'll come around," Hermione promised Rodolphus, knowing that the riff between them hurt Rodolphus more than he let on.
After their father had died, Rodolphus had assumed guardianship of Rabastan, along with head of house status. He'd told his younger brother that he wanted nothing to do with the house or the inheritance that was passed down to him. He would only act as a custodian of the family fortune, keeping care of it until Rabastan was of age and could take it himself.
Rodolphus, it turned out, didn't want to profit off his father's wealth, not when he clearly would have disowned his son for being with Hermione and having a half-blood daughter. It didn't feel right to use the money. He'd give it all away if he could, but it wouldn't be right to do that to Rabastan either.
Rabastan was clearly not enthused about Hermione moving in with them, especially considering that they were still not married (oddly, something Molly Weasley was in a pique about, too). Ever since he returned from Hogwarts, he'd been moody and sulky, and wouldn't speak a word to her.
Hermione tried not to take it personally. She knew that he was still mourning the loss of his father, who Rabastan had idolized. It had been barely over a month and it would take time for him to come to see the error of his father's beliefs.
She was confident that he would see the error of his ways, eventually. Not only had public sentiment completely changed after Voldemort's negative influence was removed from the Ministry of magic, but she knew that Rabastan adored his niece, even if she was half Hermione. It was only a matter of time before he warmed up to both Hermione and Rodolphus again.
"I hope so," Rodolphus said, sounding miserable. "I don't want my brother to hate me forever."
"He doesn't hate you," she countered. "He's just...fourteen years old. He's moody and hormonal, and his father died. His brother turned out not to be the person that he thought he was, and suddenly everything he thought he knew has been turned upside down. Just give him time."
"Maybe I should make him play Quidditch," Rodolphus wondered aloud, knowing how much the sport had helped him get out some of that teenaged aggression.
"A suggestion can't hurt," Hermione said with a cringe. "But I'd caution against making him do anything. At least not this summer."
"I'm sure he'll be chuffed to go to the Minister's Midsummer party," Rodolphus added, sounding a bit more positive at the thought. Hermione and Rodolphus had been strongly encouraged to come to Malfoy's for the solstice, and Rodolphus knew that Rabastan was keen to come with. He'd always wanted to crash his father's parties, but this was likely to be much more family friendly than what Edmond had participated in.
"Alright, give me the baby," Hermione said, making her way around the dinner table to pick up Daisy once she was finished with her meal. "You've been putting off writing all day, and I won't let you skive off this evening as well. Go hole up in your study," she commanded.
Rodolphus, knowing that he had a few years to establish himself in a new career to provide for his family, had decided to write about magical history, hoping to give it a fresh new spin, rather than the typical, dry histories that were usually written. He hoped to have a steady income by the time that Rabastan was of age, so that he could walk away from the Lestrange fortune without issue.
Hermione was rather pleased with him, knowing that it was a subject he not only enjoyed, but one that he could excel in. She'd read some of his old essays and had been pleasantly surprised by his skill with the written word as well.
As for her, she had been accepted into an advanced study program in Charms, which was due to begin in September. Her NEWT scores had been so high that the Charms Master she'd be working under said that he would be a fool not to accept her. Hermione was excited to keep learning...not quite ready to give up schooling and start her own career if she was honest. But, she was also going to enjoy every minute she had with Daisy before she had to start leaving her every day.
While she never really contemplated being a stay at home mother, Hermione could certainly see the appeal. Although Daisy had been a surprise, she was a welcome one, and Hermione loved to watch her daughter grow and learn every day. It seemed as if she could blink, and then Daisy would be another week older, learning some new skill. She was growing up so fast, and it had Hermione longing for those newborn days once again, when Daisy was content to snuggle in her arms for hours at a time.
It was enough to make her want another baby.
Hiding her grin at that thought, she knew that having another baby wasn't going to happen in the near future. No, instead, she was content to rebuild her relationship with Rodolphus once again, learning to be a family of three. Maybe in a year or two, once they were married, they could talk about it once again. She knew that Rodolphus would be eager to support her through the whole process, making up for lost time.
But for now, she was content. Hermione Granger was content, living in the past with Rodolphus Lestrange. Oh, how she never would have guessed this would have happened when Rabastan shoved her into those time turners. What a tangled web her life had become. She'd left her friends behind in a different time, but she'd made new ones here. She'd be old by the time Harry and Ron came around again, but she was confident that she'd made the world a better place for them.
Looking down at Daisy snuggled in her arms, Hermione was sure she wouldn't change a thing.
Fin.