Chapter Text
July 1993, Nott Manor, Nottinghamshire
Theodore Nott had seen his father angry. One can say that he's immune to it, but in all his thirteen years of existence, never had he seen him this livid. Tiberius Nott looked calm on the surface, but his eyes were deadly, harboring a cold, sharp fury that made the air in the room feel thin.
It all started that morning. After waking up and having his breakfast alone as per usual, Theodore dashed toward his father's study. He hoped to get permission to visit his best mate, Draco, for a game of Quidditch, especially since he was planning to try out for the Slytherin team this term.
It was Saturday, meaning there were no tutor lessons, but when he reached the study, he saw his father glaring at a letter in his hand. He could feel the anger radiating from the man even from the doorway.
"Theo, come." He stated. The Nott heir nodded stiffly and slowly walked towards the man. Each step was heavier than the other, but he tried his best to surpass his fear. What could possibly make him angry at this time?
"Yes, father?" He replied.
"Do you know a Hermione Granger in school?"
Theo was taken aback. Hermione Granger? Of course he knew Hermione Granger. Every Slytherin in his year knew her. She was the Gryffindor who always shot her hand into the air before the professors had even finished their questions. It was the girl that his best mate repulsed, the girl who beat their scores every exams. The mudblood who got petrified last term.
"Yes," he simply replied, keeping his thoughts to himself as he watched his father slowly crumple the letter in his grip.
"And how much do you know about her?"
Theo could just say she was an insufferable know-it-all, or he could also say she's brilliant at class, but he settled for the objective truth "I barely know her, to be honest." It was true, Theo hadn't spoken a single word to her since their first year.
Tiberius Nott nodded at that. His eyes bore into his son, "Lucius informed me you're going to spend at Malfoy Manor today," he stated which Theo immediately nodded, "I expect you to be home before dinner."
"Thank you, father."
Tiberius gave a sharp nod, the signal for Theo's dismissal.
As he walked out of the office and closed the heavy oak doors, Theo felt a strange, leaden weight in his chest. His mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle. Why on earth was his father, a man who prided himself on blood purity and ancient lineage — asking about a girl like Granger?
It didn't make sense. His father didn't care about 'brilliant' students unless they carried a Sacred Twenty Eight name. Yet, the way he had said her name hadn't sounded like disgust; it had sounded like a bitter, long buried recognition.
Theo shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts, but the image of his father’s deadly eyes remained. Something was shifting, and for the first time, Theo felt like he was walking into a storm he didn't understand.
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July 1993, Hampstead Garden Suburb, North London
Hermione Granger thought she knew everything. Even at a very young age, she was always confident in every detail she had in her life, she knew herself, she knew what she was.
So as she stood there, in her room all alone, she let her tears fall as she clutched the letter tightly on her hand.
My Hermione,
You have always been the light of my life, and always will be. You were the reason why I kept going. When you read this, it means I'm gone — and I am truly sorry for leaving you in this state. If I could turn back time, I would.
I have to be honest sweetheart, and I apologize for writing this instead of telling you the truth myself. You came from a long line of remarkable people, the Grangers are one of the respectable families in the Wizarding World. I lied when I said that we're muggles, your Father and I — but know that I'm doing all of this to protect you, you may not understand now but you will soon, when the time comes. You will get all the answers you need.
I only ask for you to never look for me, I don't want to be found just yet. I'll write to you again and I will come and get you when the time comes. I promise you that, my love.
Mum.
It didn’t make any sense. Why on earth would she leave? Hermione could not wrap her mind around the idea of her own mother abandoning her. She didn’t have a father; as far as she knew, her mother had always raised her on her own — and now she just casually wakes up one afternoon only to find an empty house and a letter on her bedside table?
She left her.
How was this fair? She was left alone without a thorough explanation. She was just here this morning; they just had lunch together. How was it possible to take a nap and wake up to a life that was a complete lie?
A harsh knock on the door made her crying stop. She stood up immediately, her heart pounding against her ribs. Who was at the door? Was her mother back? Or was it a social worker coming to whisk her away to an orphanage? A foster family perhaps? And how about Hogwarts? Won't she ever come back?
She froze in place as her mind raced into a million different thoughts. What will happen now?
Another knock from the door snapped her out of her reverie. She went to the door, nervous hands shaking as she turned the knob and opened it.
Standing in front of her was a tall, stoic-looking man. His brown eyes were boring into her, cold and calculating. Hermione stared back at him, her breath hitching. He was dressed in robes of fine, dark material that practically screamed wealth and old world money. The man stared at her, eyes calculating as if he was studying her.
"May I help you?" Hermione asked meekly.
The man raised an elegant brow and held out his hand. Hermione’s heart pounded violently as she stared at the offered hand, then back up at his face.
"You may come with me," he stated.
"I’m sorry? I don’t go with strangers," she found herself saying. Her wits returned in a flash of adrenaline, and she slowly reached for her wand in her back pocket.
The man saw the gesture. His hand remained outstretched as a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You're a clever girl." he drawled, "But we both know underage magic is forbidden."
Hermione’s eyes widened. Magic. He knew. "It has come to my attention that I am to take you with me, since I am no stranger," he added.
"Who are you, may I ask?" she whispered.
She didn't blink. She stared at him, searching for something familiar in the sharp line of his jaw or the depth of his brown eyes — eyes that looked terrifyingly like her own reflected in a mirror. She studied the way he stood, the absolute authority he radiated, and the strange, haunting similarity in his features that her brain refused to accept.
"I am your father."
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July 1993, Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire
"Well, I for one am curious why Tiberius asked for the mudblood." Draco stated, leaning back against the ornate marble mantelpiece as they lingered in the drawing room.
They had spent the day on the Quidditch pitch, and even after a quick snack in the garden, the topic of Theo’s father’s strange inquiry hung in the air. The room was grand, with its thirty-foot ceilings and dark walls, yet it felt smaller under the weight of Draco’s curiosity.
"It’s not like him to take an interest in Gryffindors," Draco continued, a sneer curling his lip. "Especially one as insufferable as Granger. Maybe your father is finally looking into why she keeps beating us in Charms."
Theo let out a short, humorless breath, his mind still on the livid expression he had seen earlier that morning. "I doubt it’s about her grades, Draco. He looked . . . shaken. Livid, but shaken."
Draco’s eyes narrowed, his usual arrogance replaced by a momentary flash of calculation. "Well, whatever it is, it’s probably better you find out before we head back to Hogwarts."
"Only one way to find out, I guess," Theo shrugged, finally moving toward the fireplace. "I'll probably just ask him when I get back."
"Alright mate," Draco said, pushing off from the mantel. "Owl me the second you know what’s going on. I have a feeling this isn't just about some school rivalry."
Theo nodded, reaching for a handful of Floo powder. "Nott Manor."
As Theo stepped out of the fireplace into the familiar, dimly lit hall of his home, he was immediately greeted by their house elf, who popped in front of him with a low bow.
"Welcome home, Sir," the elf squeaked. "Sir is requested at Master's office. Master says it's urgent."
Theo’s stomach did a slow roll. "Thanks, Tilly."
"Tilly is happy to serve. Tilly will make a grand dinner and Tilly will cook Master Theodore's favorite meal," the elf added, her large eyes wide with a strange sort of excitement as she followed him toward the study.
"A grand dinner?" Theo asked, pausing at the base of the stairs. "Is Father having a guest this evening?"
The elf only nodded enthusiastically before snapping her fingers and disappearing into the kitchens. Theo continued toward his father’s office, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. With a single knock, the double oak doors swung open.
Tiberius Nott was seated at his desk, but he wasn't alone. Sitting across from him, her back to the door and her bushy hair unmistakable even from behind, was a girl who shouldn't have been there.
"Good evening, Father," Theo said, his voice stiff as he stepped into the room.
"Good evening, Theodore," Tiberius drawled, a dark smirk playing on his lips. "Come. Sit."
As Theo moved to take the chair next to the girl, she turned her head. Hermione Granger looked back at him, her brown eyes red rimmed from crying but her jaw set in a line of defensive pride.
"What is the meaning of this, Father?" Theo asked, the confusion and dread of the day finally boiling over. "Why is she here?"
Tiberius leaned forward, his gaze moving between the two teenagers. "Theodore, I’d like you to meet your sister, Hermione Granger."