Chapter 8: Family Talk

By: Banana Flavored Eskimo

AN: Problems with my comp so I had to rewrite a few chapters that I already had done.

Large amber eyes blinked owlishly at the dark wizard seated so calmly before her. Tilting her head to the side, she let her gaze sweep the room, unsure how to process the information given to her.

Severus merely watched her with amused fascination. She was so expressive and easy to read on a whole. It was not something he was quite used to seeing as his House of snakes were bred not to be so animated, lest it be used against you.

However, Hermione – his niece, his mind supplied – was a Gryffindor. She may exhibit serpentine tendencies when the time called, but beneath it all she’d always be a roaring lioness with her heart perched boldly upon her sleeve.

Steepling his fingers, he leaned forward to rest his elbows upon his knees. “Athena. Have you nothing to say, or will you continue to stare about like a nocturnal avian?”

Hermione started at his voice. “It is all a bit much to take in Sir.”

“What is there to take in? I’m your Uncle. End of story.”

The brunette witch frowned as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes heavenward. “How?”

“I would have thought that your Mother had discussed this with you already Athena, but very well.” Taking a deep breath he steadied his dark eyes upon her. “When a man and a woman find themselves physically-“

“I DIDN’T MEAN THAT!” she exclaimed.

Severus merely smirked as he simply raised a brow in amusement.

“I meant how is it that I’m only learning about you now?” She questioned hurriedly with a blush upon her cheeks.

“She never spoke of her family?”

The brunette shook her head. “I once asked about our family history for a project that I had to do for muggle Primary school, but she just told me to make up names and such.”

“You do know that your Mother was disowned correct?”

“Yes, it is the reason as to why I never questioned her further. She always looked so pained when she recalled.”

The Slytherin Head merely nodded his head. “She was very close with our Mother. I suppose the bond between Mother and daughter was especially strong between them.”

“And of you Sir? Were you and my mother close?”

The corner of his lips tugged slightly upwards as he recalled his vibrant younger sister. “Do you think I would be there if we were not?”

The Gryffindor shook her head. “No I suppose you wouldn’t, had you not cared.”

“Annaleise is my younger half-sister. We were born only a little more than a year apart. She is my dearest treasure,” he stated softly.

“Mama is a witch,” she stated in sudden realization.

“A powerful one at that Athena.”

“But magic. Her wand. She’s so very muggle. How could she possibly give that all up?”

Here, the Slytherin head narrowed his deep onyx eyes. “She was disowned. When that occurred, your great grandfather ensured that her wand be confiscated and that she be banned from procuring another.”

“How could he possibly accomplish such a task!? To have the ability to monitor all transactions so that my mother wouldn’t be able to purchase another wand, no matter where she went, is quite impossible. I know for a fact that the right price would weaken anyone’s resolve.”

“You’ve not made the connection yet? I’m surprised. What is your Mother’s maiden name?”

“What? Lazaro, but what does that...”

Here, the dark wizard nodded his head. “And it all comes together.”

“That Lazaro!?”

“There is only one known Wizarding family by that name.”

Hermione felt her knees weaken at the sudden onslaught of information that was now whirling around her head as she recalled every text that she had read about that infamous Lazaro family. “Mama’s a Princess.”

“Was a princess. She was disowned Athena.”

Here Hermione frowned. “Why?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“You were not planned.”

Hermione frowned at the sudden impact of his words. She knew that her parents hadn’t planned her, but the fact that she was also the reason as to why her Mother was disowned caused a terrible pang to resound throughout her heart.

“I know I wasn’t a planned pregnancy,” Hermione began so softly, the dark wizard had to strain his ears to hear her voice, “but my parents always said that I was a gift. An unexpected gift, but a gift nonetheless.”

Severus merely regarded the young woman before him. He was not surprised that his sister would say such things to the bright witch. Annaleise was so full of unconditional love, he knew that she had no regrets about her path in life.

“You saved her.”

“By causing her to be kicked out of her family and become wandless?” she asked with bitterness.

“You assume that simply because she was a royal and of magical origins that her home life was something she actually desired.”

At this, Hermione frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Understand that as the only child to the late prince Rinaldo, that there were many rules and stipulations placed upon her as the future heir to the throne.”

“Heir? I had thought that most Wizarding societies to be patriarchal.”

Severus offered a bitter smile at her words. “Indeed, however her birth was an exception. You see, the ruling king had more than one child. One from his wife and another from a mistress.”

The Gryffindor looked incredibly intrigued. She had never read anything such as this in any book she came across. Then again, such a scandal was most likely kept secret. That or it was something known and not commented upon. Either way, it was another bit of information to add to her unknown and hidden heritage.

“When King Alaric consulted a healer about his wife’s rapidly depleting health, it was told that the odds of her and the child surviving the birthing process would be incredibly low. To ensure that his line not die, he took a mistress of strong build and good health. He quickly got her with child and with assurance that it was indeed male.

“What if the child had been female?” Hermione asked stricken.

“You need not worry about that. Despite the fact that Alaric can be an over controlling bastard, he would not kill his own. The child would have most likely been given to a royal governess or placed somewhere he could still exhibit control over her.”

Hermione frowned, her mind running over the many bit of information and attempting to place them together like a jigsaw puzzle. “Then why is it my Mother was an exception?”

Severus smirked at her question having already anticipated it. “Alaric was blessed with not one, but two sons. Prince Rinaldo miraculously survived, who was born from his wife and thus heir to all that Alaric possessed and of course Aniceto. His convenient back-up child had Rinaldo not survived.”

“Are you telling me that Aniceto would have been passed off as the child of his dead wife had Rinaldo not lived?”

The Slytherin head gave a sharp nod of confirmation. “Yes.”

Taking a deep breath, Hermione felt her head begin to spin. What an overbearing tyrant this King was! “My Mother. What role does she play in all of this?”

“Despite the fact that Aniceto was not an acknowledged son of King Alaric, he was still allowed to take the Lazaro name and was simply known as part of another branch of the family.”

The Gryffindor witch frowned. “And nobody questioned his origins?”

“Athena, nobody questions Alaric Lazaro lest they wish to face his wrath,” Severus stated quite seriously.

“I see,” she said softly.

Severus observed her quiet stance. So unlike the fiery lioness she was just moments ago, it was now replaced with pensive silence.

“Aniceto had a son, Antonio. Rinaldo had a daughter, your Mother,” he said, breaking the stillness between the two.

At this, Hermione let out a bitter laugh as her quick mind began to piece it all together. “King Alaric saw an opportunity to bring his two lines together, didn’t he?”

“He did.”

“And when my Mother became pregnant, with a child that wasn’t from the man of his choosing, but a non-magical person he sought to punish her,” she continued on as her hands began to clench tightly.

“Yes.”

“Bastard!”

Severus was somewhat taken back by her exclamation, his brows rising slightly in surprise.

Taking deep breaths, Hermione felt her body shake with barely suppressed rage. “Would he have ordered my Mother to have an abortion?” she questioned with an uncharacteristic calm seeing as her magic began to crackle wildly about her small form.

Severus was conflicted. The petite witch looked on the verge of destruction and he couldn’t blame her. With all of these things being revealed about her mother and herself, he wasn’t at all astonished about her reaction. He was more amazed that she was still able to keep a relative air of calm, albeit just barely.

Raising to his feet, he took the witch by her shoulders and in an action so uncharacteristic of the “greasy git of the dungeons,” he brought her into the enclosure of his arms. Wrapping her small frame into his embrace, he crooned a few soft words of comfort in Spanish, a move that he had performed countless times for his sister and now, it seems, his niece.

She was assaulted by the scent of spices and mint, her cheek brushing against the thick cloth of his dark robes. Clutching desperately at the fabric, she felt her body begin to shake as tears she fought to hold back began to roll helplessly down her cheeks and soak his robes.

“Calm yourself Athena. Like I said before, Alaric would never harm his own and despite the fact you were born from a father not of his choosing, he would not bring you to harm.”

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. “However he has no qualms about forcing my mother to become a social pariah.”

“By taking away her ability to do magic, he hoped to have her come running back and begging for forgiveness.”

Hermione gave a watery laugh, her fingers brushing against her damp cheeks. “She’s too stubborn to do such a thing.”

“Indeed. A trait that has been passed on to you,” the wizard replied with a smirk.

Stepping out of his secure embrace, Hermione offered a small smile to the tall man. “We best rest.”

Severus merely gave her a curt nod and turned away from the petite witch, his robes billowing about his lithe frame in a movement she found strangely comforting.

“Sir?”

Pausing in his long stride, he merely offered a slight glance over his shoulder.

“Grazi Zio.”

Hermione grinned widely, her amber eyes bright as her ears picked up his words of departure so softly spoken. “Denada Nina. “

Exhaling a breath, the Gryffindor witch felt her body seemingly deflate as she practically collapsed upon her father’s reading chair. Curling up into the worn leather, she sighed softly as the revelations of the night began to race through her mind.

His unbound hair moved about his scarred features, the silken tresses following his every movement. Raking his hands down the length of his bare arms, he scratched absently at the ugly brand he had taken barely two years ago. The dark ink stood out against the paleness of his skin, irritating him with its mere presence.

Pacing the length of his room, his body tensed as his keen sense of hearing picked up on the light footsteps drawing towards his room. Turning to the large double doors located at the far side of the room, he breathed deeply as his body relaxed.

“Draco?”

“Mother.”

She was resplendent in her house robe, the epitome of absolute sophistication as she walked the length of his room, the periwinkle fabric cascading after her willowy frame. “You’re warring with yourself again.”

“He tests my will,” he said softly.

“You know Draco,” she began quietly, “you need not go back to Hogwarts. You very well know that the Headmistress has made it optional for returning seventh years to attend or not.”

“And how would that reflect Mother?”

“I just want the best for you my son,” she said with a sigh.

The young Malfoy heir merely gazed at her from the corner of his slate coloured eyes. Ever since he was a child, his mother had always been doing, but never affectionate. She’d rather show her love through fancy baubles and shiny trinkets.

It wasn’t until his father was convicted and sentenced to Azkaban in his sixth year that she began to show more physical signs of affection. A caress to his face, a warm hand placed upon his arm or a chaste kiss upon his forehead. It was all relatively new to him, he not being used to actual touch save for the few times he had engaged with a female carnally. However, even then he wasn’t one for bodily contact longer than necessary. He simply didn’t trust anyone.

Growing up, his father had rarely touched him; save to reprimand him and even then Lucius Malfoy preferred a wand to enforce his discipline. Now he was faced with a mother that was suddenly showing signs of care for him and he wasn’t exactly sure how to react.

“Draco,” she said as she placed a light hand upon the small of his back, “something else is bothering you.”

The wizard frowned, his body going slightly tense underneath her hand before relaxing. “I am just thinking of many things Mother. You needn’t concern yourself over it.

Narcissa frowned at his sudden stiffness, her heart breaking with his reaction. “Draco, when you were younger, you adored being held.”

“Excuse me?” he questioned with a tone of incredulity.

A rare smile crossed her lips. “It wasn’t until you were introduced into society that you father insisted I cease my coddling as he called it. He didn’t want you growing up to be weak.”

“Mother,” he began.

“Draco, it’s my fault. Actually, it’s both our faults, your father and mines. Lucius raised you the way Abraxas had raised him and I, I was too scared to protest.”

Tears began to gather in her eyes as she wiped them rather sloppily upon the sleeve of her expensive robe. “Oh dear, this is not proper at all. Wiping my tears upon my robe.”

“You shouldn’t be crying at all Mother,” he stated as he offered her a monogrammed handkerchief.

Here Narcissa gave a watery laugh. “Always the gentleman.”

The young Malfoy heir observed his mother. When was the last time he had seen her cry? Truly cry? He remembered. It was the evening he spent with Fenrir. She had begged, pleaded with anyone to spare him and let her take his place.

His father had even tried to negotiate on his behalf. It was the first time he ever saw true fear on his sire’s face. It was such a raw emotion to witness from such a man he had only known as cold and callous, he had thought himself to be hallucinating. To this day, he couldn’t separate truth from fiction.

Voldermort had found their loyalty to one another distasteful and then proceeded to remind both his father and mother that their only loyalty was to him, The Dark Lord.

“Draco? Is there something else bothering you?”

The young wizard frowned. He couldn’t exactly tell his mother that he was recalling that horrid night, nor did he wish to recall. However, despite the fact that he was still learning to accept this different facet of his mother, he still cared for her. She risked herself for him and for that he would be forever thankful. Perhaps opening up to her would ease her worries. It was the least he could offer her. “Mother, I am curious about a girl.”

“Hermione Granger.”

The younger blonde felt his body go rigid at his Mothers’ words. “Excuse me?”

“It’s Hermione Granger is it not Draco? You’ve always held a bit of a fancy towards her, though I cannot blame you. She has grown up quite a bit if the recent picture in the Quibbler is anything to go by.”

“How?”

“Draco, I am your Mother. In addition, you get bored easily. Hermione Granger is the only person I’ve ever heard of you go on about year after year besides Harry Potter.”

The younger blonde felt his cheeks heat with the sudden rush of blood. “I don’t fancy her.”

“And I’m the Queen of Spain.”

“No you’re not. Blaise’s aunt is,” he stated somewhat petulantly with a firm cross of his arms.

Narcissa smiled at the familiar action. “Technically, Isabella is the princess of Spain and when the current King passes, she will not inherit the title of Queen because she is not of his blood.”

His brows raised at her words. “You know her?”

“She was a Hogwarts student. Ravenclaw. Five years ahead of me. Brilliant in the arts, much like the rest of the Zabini line,” she said easily.

“Ravenclaw.”

Narcissa nodded her head. “If i’m not mistaken, the young Miss Granger would have been an excellent addition to the house. She’s said to be the brightest witch of the generation.”

“Mother, please,” he said with a frown.

“Draco. There is nothing wrong with being attracted to a beautiful and bright young woman. You’re a Malfoy darling and you deserve the best.”

Draco levelled his Mother with an even stare, his slate coloured eyes boring into her own crystalline blue. “Even if she is not of pure blood?”

Narcissa merely raised a brow at his challenge. “Draco darling,” she began with such saccharine sweetness. “She’s a heroine, powerful and everything needed to bring our family back into the position we belong.”

“She’s muggle-born.”

“A minor flaw that can be overlooked,” she said with an airy wave of her hand.

Draco frowned.

“Draco, you’re a Malfoy my darling. You deserve the best.”

A sardonic smirk crossed his lips at her words. “You still believe so even after all that has happened?”

The elder witch merely sighed. “Draco. Your Father made a mistake when he was young. He was blinded by his quest for power and driven by ideals forced on him since birth.” Here she paused in her words to gently stroke his hair. “Much like you my darling.”

“I’m nothing like him,” he growled angrily.

The Malfoy matriarch smirked softly at her sons’ statement. “You are very much like your Father whether you wish to admit it or not. You’re both driven, powerful and incredibly handsome. Even when thoughts and ideas that are not your own are being forced upon you, you do not bend completely. You’re both Slytherin in that respect, manipulating the situations before you to your advantage.”

“What could you possibly be speaking of Mother?”

“Draco. The Dark Lord may have been a Master, but he was never our Master. He was simply a means to the end. When your father found his line of thought flawed, he did his best to twist the situation in his favour without getting us killed. You know as well as I that Malfoy’s always place their own above everything else.”

Yes, he did know that. If there was anything that Lucius had ingrained into his mind it was that a Malfoy always took care of their own and loathe be to anyone who dare defied that.

“Where is he?”

“He’s in his study my darling. You should speak to him. It’s been quite some time since you both have spoken.”

The young blonde hesitated. “Perhaps another time Mother. It’s late.”

“Very well Draco, but please do so before you leave for Hogwarts.”

AN:

My beta for this chapter is my office mate, but i’m looking for an actual one... any volunteers? I know i’ve asked before, but i’ve forgotten. Just email me. Check my profile.

“Grazi Zio.” – Thank you Uncle - Italian

“Denada Nina. “ You’re welcome (endearment for young girl) - Spanish

So everything was erased and I had to start from scratch, well at least the chapters that I hadn’t posted. Everything else i was able to salvage.

I know this chapter was short. Honestly, i’m still struggling with this story. I should have updated ages ago, and I have no excuse other than the fact that I’m working now as a writer for a magazine and that takes up A LOT of time!

For those who are curious, I made a new banner for this story that is posed in Granger Enchanted. It was time consuming to paint hair and scars, but I hope I made it look somewhat realistic.

I lost my diagram for the family tree, but for those who were able to guess that Severus was the uncle, Yay. Did you guess he was only a half uncle? Yes. Severus is still a Snape, therefore he is a half-blood. He also only has ties to the Italian side. Yes he speaks Spanish because he would have obviously lived with his mother and sister in Spain.

Annaleise is pureblood, although her wand was broken and she hasn’t been able to replace it in fear of someone finding her and her family. Therefore, Hermione is really a half-blood. No, her mother didn’t have some crazy affair with someone. Hermione’s a Granger. Deal with it.

For further clarification, Annaleise ran because her grandfather would have told her to give up her child (give up, not kill/abort, they’re Spanish people, they don’t do that!) and marry Antonio who is essentially a distant cousin of hers considering they both share the same paternal Grandfather.

She fell in love with Harvard, got pregnant and gave up her magical life, moved to England and never looked back... until now. Lol.

Complicated family ne? Nothing compared to my own. XD

So thank you for reading this chapter. If you have any ideas of what you may want to see, share them with me PLEASE! It may give me inspiration to write and i’ll actually get a chapter out at a decent time!

Thank you.