Chapter Text
Hermione Granger loved to learn. Whether it was philosophy, literature, rules of a game, even quidditch, she wanted to know it all. Sometimes it was a downfall of hers. When researching for a school assignment she often got distracted when discovering new information in the textbooks. Tangents, whilst annoying when she was researching something important, were often when she found the most interesting facts and knowledge. For example, did you know that a cloud weighs a million tonnes, or that the Minister of Magic Ottaline Gambol brought in the Hogwarts Express in the seventeenth century because of the Statute of Secrecy and the fact there wasn’t a safe way for students to get to Hogwarts without breaking the statute. Also it was built by a team of 167 muggles who were later obliviated. Anyways…
Knowledge had never let her down. Knowledge had never made her cry, contrary to what Harry believes, it was the exams and stress that did, not the knowledge. Knowledge had, in fact, saved her and others lives countless times. Knowledge had never belittled her, taunted her, bullied her, scared her, or tortured her. Knowledge for most of her life was her only friend.
For the first time in her life, Hermione hated knowledge. If she hadn’t been so incessantly curious about the world she had been excluded from and fought against then she wouldn’t be in this situation. If she hadn’t her stupid need to acquire every fact of the universe she wouldn’t feel like said universe was imploding with her at the centre.
Originally, reading about the pureblood families had seemed interesting to Hermione. A lot of her classmates were part of this exclusionary club. Sirius was too. Andromeda originally being a Black was also a pureblood. Harry’s father was a pureblood as well. The large tome had looked promising, inviting her to understand more about the history of the world she had been thrust into at age eleven and yet immediately not good enough for. The history carved by the ancestors of people she knew. The people she had fought against just weeks ago.
The only thing was, those ancestors were apparently hers too.
Hermione swallowed. Flicking her eyes to the doorway of the library in Grimmauld place, she made sure she was alone. She was about to have a full on panic attack and the last time she did Harry had freaked out. The last thing she needed was Harry having a panic attack over her having a panic attack. She snorted at that thought, momentarily calming before remembering what she had just learned and panicking again.
She took a gasping breath. Her parents. Her parents. Except they weren’t her parents, were they?
“Mina?” A gruff voice called from the doorway.
Remus.
That’s when the panic attack decided to take over. Tears made salty tracks down her cheeks and her lungs constricted. Remus was pulling her into his arms before she knew what was happening.
“Mina, I have you. You’re safe. Harry’s safe. Ron’s safe.” Remus’ soothing voice murmured into her hair.
His large hand rubbed her back slowly, his free hand moving one of her hands to his chest so she could feel his steady, slow breaths. Doing her best to mimic his breathing, she finally started the counting exercise Madam Pomfrey taught her during third year.
Five things she could see: that book, the fireplace, the portrait of Sirius, Regulus, Andromeda, Narcissa and Bellatrix on the wall, the chandelier on the ceiling, the mug with her cold tea in it.
Four things she could hear: the logs crackling, Remus’ steady breathing, the dull chatter echoing from the kitchen, the cars driving up the road outside.
“That’s it. Touch now,” Remus muttered, clearly having heard her muttering her answers.
Three things she could touch: Remus’ jumper, the ‘H’ necklace that Harry gave her as a late Christmas present, her t-shirt.
“Okay, smell,” Remus prompted.
Two things she could smell: chocolate from Remus, old books.
“Good, last one,” He soothed.
One thing she could taste: the ginger biscuits she’d been nibbling on.
Hermione sucked in a deep breath before wiping her eyes self-consciously. Her eyes flicked to the fireplace whilst Remus continued to rub her back. She knew he would wait until she was ready to tell him what had freaked her out. Remus always was a good listener.
“Sorry,” she whispered. He snorted.
“You say that every time and what do I tell you every time you apologise?”
“Not to,” she muttered.
“Exactly. Now, what sent that big brain into meltdown mode, Mina?” He asked softly.
She curled closer to him on the sofa. He was always so warm, she never understood how he could stand jumpers constantly. A small sigh escaped her.
“I read something I didn’t know until now,” she mumbled.
He sat back so she could see his face and cocked an eyebrow. Hermione knew from his eyes that he was fighting both confusion and amusement. Thankfully, he kept the sarcastic comment to himself.
Instead of telling him more, she picked up the book and handed it to him. He gave her a sidelong glance before reading where she had the book open.
The McKinnon Family
The McKinnon family is an old pure-blood line with roots in the western Highlands of Scotland, believed to descend from wizarding clans who settled in the isles during the 9th century. Unlike many pure-blood families of similar age, the McKinnons are notable for their historically egalitarian stance towards muggle-born witches and wizards.
While the family maintained pride in its magical heritage, its members have consistently rejected blood supremacy. This open-mindedness has, over centuries, led to the McKinnon's becoming somewhat estranged from the more traditionalist “Sacred Twenty-Eight” circles.
Notable members of the McKinnon family are eighteenth century Calum McKinnon. A duellist and noted protector of Muggle villages in Inverness-shire during the Goblin Rebellions of 1798. Eilidh McKinnon, born on the cusp of the twentieth century, was a member of the Wizengamot who opposed the Anti-Muggle Marriage Prohibition Bill. Marlene McKinnon, the last known McKinnon, who was known for her skill in charms and her role in the Order of the Phoenix.
In the autumn of 1979, Marlene McKinnon, then a prominent young member of the Order of the Phoenix, was rumoured to have given birth to a child at a safe house in the Scottish Highlands. The identity of the father was never recorded in any official magical register, and speculation at the time ranged from a fellow Order member to an unnamed muggle. Within a week of the birth, the infant vanished under circumstances never publicly explained. Contemporary reports suggest no signs of break-in or magical struggle, leading some to theorise the disappearance was voluntary, perhaps to protect the child from the growing threat of Lord Voldemort’s forces. Others have argued it may have been the work of Death Eaters seeking to punish Marlene for her defiance. The truth remains unknown, as the McKinnon family kept the matter strictly private until their deaths in 1981.
”I knew Marlene, Mina. You remind me a lot of her actually. It was terrible what happened. She was so private, I didn’t even know she had a baby until the others told me. It was a couple months late, of course, because I had been with the werewolves for a year on assignment, so I never knew when the baby was actually born,” he sighed, his eyes distant as if watching that time play out. “We never pried, Marls would have hexed us all. We just assumed it was from one of the nights when the girls would sneak away from the safe houses to go drinking in muggle London. Is this what upset you?”
Hermione simply pointed at the family tree on the other side of the spread, unsure if using her voice would cause the panic attack to come back with a vengeance. Remus followed her finger. Right there underneath Marlene Mckinnon’s name was her unknown baby. The line read ‘Baby girl McKinnon, born 19th September 1979’. Remus blinked.
“Mina…” Remus’ voice had gone hoarse. Her birthday. It could be a coincidence. Maybe she was getting upset and dredging up horrible memories for Remus for no reason. They were still recovering from this war, never mind the last war that caused Remus to lose more than most.
Remus turned and studied Hermione for a second and she knew the second he agreed with her worries. His eyes somehow broke a little. Tears welled.
“I can see her in you,” he all but whispered. Hermione’s lip wobbled.
Remus blew out a deep breath before clearing his throat. She could tell he was coming up with a game plan.
“We need Sirius. There’s a potion that can determine your biological parents. It’s a Black family potion, we both did it in fourth year because Sirius was desperate for a different answer and well, I didn’t want him to blow himself up or some shit. He can help me brew it,” Remus had gone into general mode, as she had jokingly dubbed it.
Sending off a paper butterfly to Sirius asking him to join them in the library, Remus pulled her into his side and continued rubbing his hand along her arm. Whether it was for his benefit or hers, she didn’t know. They sat in silence, listening to the fire crackle, whilst they tried to calm their racing hearts.
“Moony, what’s so urgent?” Sirius came bounding into the room full of energy as usual.
When Sirius noticed the frantic tension in the air and the pose of the pair on the sofa, his eyes became sharp and his back straightened. If Sirius hadn’t been wearing a battered queen t-shirt and jeans, he would have looked every bit the pure-blooded Sacred Twenty-Eight scion he was raised to be. Moving cautiously, as if he was trying not to spook a scared creature, he lowered himself into the armchair across from the pair.
“Okay, something is clearly going on. Moons, care to share?” Sirius said, his energetic entrance suddenly dampening.
“You remember when Marls had her baby Pads? What was the birth date?” Remus asked softly.
Quickly shooting a silencing charm at the door, Sirius looked at the pair with suspicion clouding his eyes. It was when his eyes grew wide, that they knew he’d caught on.
“She left around the seventeenth and didn’t come back until maybe the twenty-fifth,” Sirius said slowly. “So sometime around then. Remi… she looks so much like her,” He added in a whisper.
Remus just nodded slowly. Hermione was visibly shaking despite Remus comforting her. Sirius joined in, coming to the other side of Hermione. His arm mirrored Remus’. Resting his chin on the crown of Hermione’s head, his eyes flicked up to Remus.
“So, the potion then?” Sirius whispered, clearly having figured out why he had been summoned.
Dropping a quick kiss on the top of her head, Sirius got up and searched through the library for the book he was after.
”Got it, why don’t we head down to the potions lab? I’ll deal with the Weasley’s if they try to get nosy.” Sirius tried for levity.
Breathing in sharply, Hermione nodded. Remus squeezed her shoulder before helping her up. He didn’t remove his arm from around her as he walked her out the room and down the stairs. The band of his arm around her shoulder and back felt grounding. She was fairly certain that if he let go she’d either float away or fall straight to the ground. Neither seemed like good options.
They made it to the potions lab, thankfully, without running into anyone. Whilst Hermione was sure that Remus and Sirius would have had excuses ready to get people to bugger off, she didn’t want anyone else to see her in this state. She trusted Remus and Sirius implicitly. Yes, she also trusted Ron and Harry implicitly but they would have just made things worse. Between Ron not knowing how to deal with emotions and Harry being basically a ’Hermione-only-empath’, the last thing she wanted was to have to deal with them.
“Right Mina, distraction or comfort?” Remus asked gently. Her eyes finally focused and landed on Remus kneeling in front of the stool he’d perched her on. She hadn’t even noticed sitting down, too caught up in her thoughts about her friends.
“Erm-“ she coughed, clearing her throat. “Distraction?”
“Right, let’s make a potion then.” He winked. She recalled him saying it was a Black family potion, a challenge. Something she hadn’t made before.
Remus and Sirius set her up prepping some of the ingredients whilst they did the others, set up the cauldrons and read the recipe for the first time in two decades. After they had prepared, Remus and Sirius helped her make the potion. Sometimes they guided her through the steps, others they took over. It was a finicky little potion, timing was important and with her mind being all over the place, they didn’t want to risk having to restart.
Finally, it was time for the last ingredient. Three drops of her blood. Remus laid the parchment down next to the cauldron that they would pour a ladle full onto. Handing her a sterilised needle, she poked her finger and squeezed till the blood welled. Drip. Drip. Drip.
Remus moved quickly, stirring the potion clockwise twelve times before reducing the flames and ladling it onto the parchment. They watched in anticipation as the potion covered the parchment to the edges but not spilling over or soaking in. Everyone held their breaths. Suddenly, the liquid sunk into the parchment and in blood red ink wrote her name and birthday towards the bottom.
Hermione Jean Granger - 19th September 1979
A line spread up from her name and split into two.
Marlene Eleanor McKinnon - 1st August 1960
Everyone let out a collective breath. Then the ink started again, for a moment everyone had forgotten that they didn’t know the second parent. Hermione closed her eyes.
Remus suddenly gripped onto the bench. A strangled noise escaped him before he could stop it. The noise prompted Hermione to open her eyes, worried something was happening to him. Before she could turn her head to look at him, she saw the parchment she had closed her eyes to avoid. There written in her blood was her fathers name and birth date.
Remus John Lupin - 10th March 1960