#pollux lestrange

A/n: It’s about to get serious after this.

It was odd. The Tri-Wizard Tournament was happening and somehow, Harry got put into it, even though Hogwarts had a Champion and the fact he wasn’t old enough. But you were too busy to think about that.

You were quietly writing a letter. It was to your aunt. Your dreams has become worse and more vivid, which was driving you to try to cure yourself but nothing was working. It had gotten to the point that they wouldn’t let you sleep. It was the dead of night and you were only working by dim wand light.

You jumped near out of your skin when you felt a hand on your shoulder, you looked up to see Draco.

“Are you writing to father?” He asked, trying to see what you were writing. 

“Actually, I am writing to Aunt Narcissa. I am seeking advice.”

“Does she know?”

You stopped, “It isn’t about that.”

“Then what?”

You looked back at the paper, “Do you dream Draco?”

“No, well, maybe but I don’t remember them.” 

“I do.” 

Draco picked up on how you said it, “There’s something terrible in them, huh?”

“She kills me. Or Hermione.” 

He knew who you were talking about. “Well, what if they’re prophetic? What’re you gonna do?”

“She’s in Azkaban.” 

“So was Sirius.”

He had a point.

“Hope she kills me instead.” 

Hermione noticed the shift in you. You were tired more and your smile was weaker. Today she finally decided to ask.

“Hey, are you alright?” 

It was your usual walk down near the Black Lake. 

You quickly opened your mouth but she cut you off.

“Tell me honestly, please? I know you feel a need to protect me but whatever is bothering you, I can help.”

You sighed, “You might want to sit down,” you took off your jacket and laid it on the grass for her. You sat down beside it. She followed.

You broke down and told her everything. From your childhood, your mother, why you changed your hair and the dreams. 

She held your hand as you spilled your heart out, gently rubbing the back of your hand with her thumb. 

“Lux, I appreciate you telling me this. And about the dreams, they sound… terrifying but you know,” she looked at you, tears prickling her eyes,  “I know you would save me.” 

You smiled as tears fell down your own face, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I will love you forever.”

It had been a few months since that and now you were waiting at the bottom of a staircase for her. 

All she had told you about the dress was the color, which you had went out and bought a tie of the same color. 

When you heard a few whispers, you turned your head and saw her. 

The entire world slowed.

She was even more beautiful than you’d ever imagined. 

She looked like the embodiment of beauty. 

You could almost feel the dopey grin that appeared on your face. You extended a hand for her to grab.

Once she was down the stairs, you whispered in her ear, “You are so so beautiful.”

You saw her face turn red as she looped her arm in yours. 

You two were so interested in each other that you didn’t noticed the looks from your friends. 

The night was wonderful. Hermione was actually a great dancer despite her warnings of a lack of skill. More importantly, a smile never left her face. Which always brought a smile to yours. 

She enjoyed being spun and dipped more than she thought she would.

The night was perfect. Just like she was.

But this night, oh this night. A night full of terror. A night of realization. 

Cedric was dead. You instantly grabbed Hermione and held her when it was realized. Many people let out wails and angry shouts. That’s when Harry clarified what happened.

He was back.

The Dark Lord.

Voldemort. 

You shuddered when you saw him for the first time.

He looked you up and down as you stood your ground, trying not to let the minor fear you had of him show.

“Pollux Lestrange.”

“Dark Lord.” You bowed slightly. 

“You look so different.” 

“A lot has changed, My Lord.” You felt your spine twist under your own skin at the term. 

“You dyed your hair?”

“Yes, I did.” 

“Not as platinum as the Malfoys?” 

“It’s grown out and the sun stained it like this.” 

His cold eyes and hard to read face watched yours for any weakness he could prick and pry at. “Do you miss your mother?”

You thought for a moment, “To be honest, of course I do. Blood is thicker than water.” It was a lie. But you were a great liar.

“True. Well, Things must change then.” He turned and left you there. 

You walked through the hall, looking for her to tell her that you had told Draco about the two of you and that while he wasn’t happy about it, he would support you the best he could, which mainly was not ratting you out to his parents.

You walked into the library and saw her, you smiled as you walked to her. You tapped her shoulder and she looked at you, shock on her face.

“What happened to your hair?” She asked, reach up to touch it.

Worried that she didn’t like it, you looked down, “I cut and colored it. Do you like it?”

She stared at it. There once was brown curls that you always kept back away from your face. But she would have to had lied to say that she wasn’t obsessed  with the now light wispy relaxed waves, dyed with blonde highlights fell slightly down your neck but stopped at the collar of your shirt. You looked happier in your eyes. 

“I love it! It’s so soft!” She threaded her fingers in it. 

You smiled widely, “I knew you would. I didn’t want to cut all of it, I just needed to get the majority of the length off.”

“It suits you!” He eyes went down slightly.

“What’s wrong?” You picked up on it immediately.

“Don’t be mad,” she began, “but I might’ve, accidentally, told Harry about… us.” She began rambling, “Then Harry told Ron, Ron told Neville, Neville told Ginny, Ginny-“

“Hermione.”

“Ginny told Seamus, Seamus told Pavarti-“

“Hermione, I told Draco.” 

She stopped, “so you aren’t mad?”

“Why would I be mad at you for something I did?” 

“When did you tell him?”

“Last night, he helped with my hair. He talked me into highlights instead of low lights.” 

Hermione stared at you for a moment, “Does this mean?”

“I think it does.” You smiled, knowing exactly what she meant.

In front of the window, the cold crystals of snow fell gracefully as you grabbed her hand. She leaned up and forward and you leaned down, lips gently joining in your first kiss.

That week, you two were inseparable. Young love as Professor McGonagall said. It wasn’t new to see the two of you holding hands or to see your arm draped across her shoulders, talking about nothing and everything. 

It stayed like this til the day she had been upset about. The Execution of Buckbeak. You promised to be with her, you stood in the door way and watched her for a moment, it was going to be soon. You walked to her and her friends, gently tapping on her shoulder. She turned to you and you immediately opened your arms. She fell into them. You held her for a moment til you felt another person join the hug, then another. 

You never thought you’d be group hugging with Harry and Ron but you weren’t going to tell them to shove off. 

“Ah! Scabbers!” Ron shouted out, “he bit me!” 

a/n: this one is kinda choppy since it’s a transition part, my bad <3

He recognized you. He recognized your eyes. It was Sirius Black. 

He just looked at you, with such a look that one could only describe as the purest understanding. 

“Pollux.” He said as more a final statement.

“Sirius?” 

One of the only ones to escape the torment yet you could see so many shared scars. Only you could see them on each other. 

You thought about him on the train ride back. You heard things about him that you never truly believed them all: you were sure they’d tell stories about you. 

Gentle snoring woke you up, Hermione had fallen asleep on your shoulder as you were reading through a magazine. 

Pollux Arcturus Lestrange, the Slytherin pure blood who feared he’d never deserve love, was sitting next to the most beautiful girl in the world. Subconsciously, you laid your head on hers, pressing a kiss to her head. 

You sighed, “I love you so much.” You whispered so softly a mouse would’ve never heard you. 

Her love is what kept you sane til the next school year. To your utter surprise, they took the haircut well.

“Embracing the Malfoy!” Your uncle said but you had a sneaking suspicion that your Aunt knew. 

The warm welcome didn’t last long when you all were sat down at dinner days before leaving for the Quidditch World Cup. The air seems to be stale due to the lack of conversation and your general anxiety about what you were going to ask.

“So, Auntie Narcissa, are you going to come watch with us?” You asked, trying to test the waters of conversation.

She looked up from her cup, “No, I am feeling a bit off as of late.” She said. 

Then Draco started, “We get to sit in the Ministers box again, Dad?”

“Of course, Draco.” Lucius replied, focused on thought rather than his son.

You were picking at your food, trying to think of a way to ask if you could sit with Hermione. You felt a weight in your stomach. 

“What’s wrong, Pollux? You’ve barely touched your food. Are you feeling alright?” Narcissa asked.

“I’m feeling alright, just not that hungry.” You said, trying to bring a smile to your face, “Uncle Lucius, do you think it wouldn’t be perceived as rude if I sat with my friends during the game? Just the game though. I would to spend the Pre-Game show with the Minister.”

He looked at you, eyes scanning yours, “Who are these friends? Anyone we know?”

It was a fair question any guardian would’ve asked the person under their watch but to you it felt like an interrogation of your very soul. “Well, no. But I promise you they’re nice people!” You said, trying to act calm.

Your Aunt came to the rescue, “I think it would be great! Draco, you can invite a friend to sit up in the box with you.” 

You internally thanked her a million times, “See! Now it isn’t going to waste!” 

Draco picked up on the subtext, “Yeah! Blaise said something about going, I can just owl him and see if he wants to.”

You relaxed immediately, but you couldn’t ignore the gaze of your uncle.

“I guess you can. As long as you are back in the tent after the game.” He said. You froze. 

That was another reason it was so tense: The Death Eaters were planning a comback and you overheard many schemes. 

“Yes, Uncle.” 

You were sitting up in the stand with Hermione, the time fading away til they would attack. You were trying to think of a way to tell her without scaring the daylights out of her. 

It was barely fifteen minutes now, you grabbed on her sleeve, getting her attention. “Hermione, we need to go.” 

“But there’s still-“

“Please.” You asked, she could tell by the look in your eye that something was wrong. You grabbed her hand and began your descent to the ground. Along the way, you tried to explain the best you could.

“Hermione, I know, I wanted to see the rest of the game too but they… the followers of…” you got out of the way of a man, “You Know Who are coming.”

“Shouldn’t we have warned-“ 

“I was planning on getting you out one by one, as to not cause a panic.“

You lead her out, “The quicker we can get our stuff together, the quicker we can-“

“Pollux!” 

You froze, “Uncle!” 

“I was wondering where you were.” 

He knew. He knew. He knows.

“Is this,” he looked at Hermione with a slight disdain “one of your friends?”

“Yes, Uncle.” You said.

“Hm.” 

The universal sign of disapproval.

He started again, “I suggest you hurry up.” He said. You knew what he meant. You sighed as you watched him walk away.

“Pollux, should we go back for the others?” 

“No. He knows you’ll be alone. I have to stay with you. We have to go. We have to get your things, keep your head down, don’t cause a panic.” 

You checked your watched, barely eight minutes. You and her hurried through the rows upon rows of tents before finding the Weasleys tent, she rushed inside with you following. 

You watched as she packed up all her things, you honestly thought you had more time but you heard the familiar laugh of the twins, Fred and George.

“Shit, Hermione! Hurry!” You whisper yelled at her.

The Weasleys came in and saw you standing in their foyer.

“Hello Mr. Weasley!” You said, in a cheery voice. “Just waiting for Hermione to grab her things!”

“Why is Hermione grabbing her things?” Mr Weasley asked while his kids and the guest, Harry Potter, began chatting about the game.

“Well, do you want the long or short version?” You asked, noting the loud crashing outside, which he went to check on. 

“I believe I have caught on.” 

The incident was all you could read about in the paper. You wished for something different as you flipped through the pages, looking for exactly that. 

“This is a lot.” Ron said, leaning up against the window. 

“Well, you know how it is.” You said.

“No, we don’t deal with death eaters every weekend.” 

You flipped your paper down slightly to glare at him. He had been making slights at you ever since you had met. 

Harry picked up on this, “What classes do you-“

“Show us your arm.” Ron said. 

“Uh, why?” Harry asked.

“Not you. Him.” Ron pointed.

“Ron, he is not a death eater.”

“He wouldn’t go around admitting and flaunting it.” 

You huffed, you unbuttoned your sleeve and rolled them up, “Happy, you judgmental prick? I would say your family tree is a cactus to give you an excuse but every other Weasley is pleasant so it truly is a ‘you’ problem.” You said, irritation finally eating your common courtesy. 

You were smiling to yourself as you scribbled on your divination notes. You were really good at it, or so Professor Trelawney said. You often stayed behind after class, it being your last one, to help her set up for her class in the morning. 

“Mr. Lestrange? Could you hand me the purple teacups?” She asked, standing on a stool that was balanced on a small table.

“Of course, though professor, wouldn’t it be better to levitate them up?” You asked, handing her the tray.

“Why does a raven put stones in a watery vase instead of finding a puddle?”

You just lightly laughed, “I mean, you have got me there. Is there anything else?” 

“No no, you can go on. Thank you.” She said.

You turned and walked down the street to the hallway. Humming lightly to yourself, you were tired but you knew that you had school work so you were already planning to do it at the dinner table. 

Suddenly, a girl appeared and stumbled down the stairs. You instinctively reached and grabbed her before she went off the edge of the stairs, “Oh my god, are you okay?” 

“Yes, yes. I am-“ she stopped when she looked at you. You also stopped. It was her.

“You’re Pollux Lestrange.” She stated, pulling her arm from you, you hadn’t realized you were still holding her.

“You’re Hermione Granger.” You replied.

“I-Um, thank you for catching me.”

“Oh! Yeah, uh, no problem, though, where did you come from?” 

She grinned slightly, the light from the candle on the wall illuminated her lovely features, “Don’t worry about that. But I do I have a question for you.”

“If I answer,” you smiled, trying to hide your huge grin that she was talking to you. “Will you answer my question?”

“Yes,” She looked down, “Are you, I know this might be a sensitive subject but are you like your parents?” 

You looked at her expression for a second before you sighed, she stared at your face, which the glowing moonlight covered, making you look peaceful. 

“I don’t have their anger not their beliefs. I will admit that I do have my mother’s devotion to that of which I care about.” You said, thinking about her, her photo in your room at your Aunt and Uncles house.

Other than your nose and jawline, you got your features from your mother. You shared her curly hair, rich brown eyes and smile. Hers were sharp with intelligence and with a glimmer of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “Also some features bear resemblance.” You said, smiling.

She nodded, “I get that, sort of. Well,” she pulled a small necklace, “this is how I appeared.” She said, lips sealing, showing that she didn’t want to say more. 

“Well, Hermione, will you walk with me to dinner?” You asked, hoping she didn’t detect your tone and didn’t see the tips of your ears and your cheeks which you knew were reddened.

“Sure, I am starving.” She smiled as you both walked down the stairs. “Are you going to sit with us?” She asked.

You thought about it. “Well, I don’t know if I really should. But I will walk you to your table.” You compromised.

She nodded, she knew what or rather who you were worried about. 

A/n: I miss Hermione. So I decided to write something for her. Synopsis: Being Pollux Lestrange, son of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, wasn’t exactly what you wanted and when you met her; you especially didn’t want it. 

You walked beside your cousin as you walked up the stairs, he was talking to you about how stupid Harry Potter was being annoying. 

You heard a similar conversation every day for the past three years at Hogwarts, so you didn’t see a great need in looking up from your book. 

“Lux, what is so interesting on that damn book?” He asked, finally catching your attention. You looked at your sour faced cousin.

“Anything is more interesting than Potter.”

“You’ve got that right,” he huffed, “Did you do the potions homework? Snape went so quick I couldn’t catch what the essay was on.” 

You sighed, “it is on the different colors potions will turn depending on their vitality, nothing difficult-“ you stopped when you saw three people walking past, your eyes locked on the girl of the pair and you felt the tips of your ears turn slightly red. 

She was in your Ancient Runes class but you didn’t catch her name but she was very pretty. 

Draco noticed you’re staring, “Pollux,” he snapped at you, “That’s Granger, the Mudblood.” 

You looked at him, “Her? She’s changed,” you said as you turned your head to look back at her.

“Are you dense? Mud-Blood. Muggle born.” 

You sighed, “Right.” 

Draco felt a slight sadness for you so he tried to comfort you, “Besides, she’s a know-it-all. Can’t get a word in edge wise.” 

For weeks now, You and Hermione were sneaking around now since your cousin and her friends would think you both flipped your lid but you didn’t think of that as you and her stood in one of the aisles of the library, looking in the books for Ancient Runes.

The library was your go to date place because of the fact if you were spotted here, you both could easily make up the excuse that it’s for your classes. 

You were humming to yourself as you drug your fingers along the spines of the books. She was humming and tapping her foot along, off in her own world as she read a page from a book. You glanced at her, her eye brows furrowed as she read, eyes darting along the page. 

You looked away before she caught you, it was her turn to look at you now. Noticing you fiddling with your reading glasses as you read the spines of the book, calmness radiating off of you.

You both silently wished you could go around like the other couples did. You couldn’t help but notice the slight her in her eyes when she saw a pair holding hands or sharing a quick kiss. But this is what you both chose. 

She wasn’t ready to tell her friends and especially not Harry and Ron while you were trying to think of a way to break it it Draco. You had half a mind to threaten turning him into a fish and letting Hermione’s cat, Crookshanks, eat him like you told her you would. A mischievous smile and a restrained chuckle came to your face when you thought of this. 

“What’s got you in a giggly mood?” Hermione asked, smiling at you.

“Oh just think about my buddy Crookshanks.” 

She rolled her eyes, “You can’t feed transfigured people to my cat.”

“But if it came do-“

“It would make you a murderer and he would be an accomplice.” She laughed, eyes crinkling as she smiled. 

“C’mon, it’s a nice thought.” You said nodding at her, hoping she’d back you up on it. 

She playfully scoffed, “Is it now?” She closed her book as she walked close to you, where she’d pulled it from the shelf.  You looked at her hand, she noticed you looking at her hand.

“May I hold your hand?” You ask, you typically cynical tone replaced by a soft, almost apologetic tone. 

“Yes.” 

You turned to face her, holding out your hand. She took it, curiosity on her face. When her comparatively dainty hand placed in yours, you spun her around as if you were dancing. 

This awarded you a few giggles from her, her hand never leaving yours. 

You wanted to stay in this moment forever but you were interrupted by a familiar voice of a ginger. She immediately dropped your hand, you pulled a random book from the shelf and she  turned to the other side of the aisle, following your lead.

“Hermione, there you are.” Ron said, looking at her, Harry was following him.

“Oh hey Paul,” Harry said, acknowledging you.

“It’s Pollux.”

“Sorry.” The black haired boy said, in a way that you knew her meant it.

“Anyway,” Ron started, “Have you seen Scabbers? Do you think your damn cat has eaten him?” He asked Hermione.

She rolled her eyes, “Don’t blame Crookshanks just because your rat decided he had enough.

You couldn’t help but laugh, which caught the attention of the boys, “Hermione, why are you hanging out with him in the library?” Harry asked, looking you up and down.

You knew what was in the back of his mind: the look people gave you when they knew who you were. And the worst part is you couldn’t blame them. 

“He’s in my Ancient Runes class.” She justified.

Ron looked at you, “Wait a minute, aren’t you Pollux Lestrange?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Honestly Ron, don’t you listen to conversations?”

Ron looked at you with what you could only define as jealousy. You weren’t worried about it though as you met his gaze. You knew when you were trying to be intimidated.

“So… What assignment are you doing in Ancient Runes?” Harry asked, watching the glaring between you and Ron.

You cut your eyes to him, “We are looking for anything that’ll give us an edge in our upcoming quiz. What’re you two doing here? Besides the runaway rat?”

Harry’s mouth turned into a guilty smile, “Well, We were actually going to ask Hermione if she could help us with our Care Of Magical Creatures homework?” 

Out of the two of them, you already preferred Harry. You smiled, “Ah,” you turned to Hermione, “Well, if you want to help them, I need to go make sure my cousin hasn’t drowned the first year in the fountain.” You excused yourself.

Hermione nodded, “Bye Lux-“ she didn’t catch herself and you smiled to yourself as you walked away.

“Lux?” Ron asked, the three of them now walking to a nearby table. 

“It is just a nickname, now what do you need help with exactly?” 

She hoped that answer was convincing.

You walked through the common room door and saw a familiar head in platinum blonde hair in the couch. You sighed. “Draco, I just need you to listen. So I started hanging out with Hermione and I… I asked her out a while ago and she agreed: I know what you’re gonna say and what they’re gonna think but is it really worth mine and hers happiness’s?”

There was silence. You walked to the front of the couch, ready to yell at him. 

He was asleep, mouth slightly open and book in his lap. Even in his sleep he looked fearful. You sighed as you grabbed a nearby blanket, unfolded it and draped it over him.