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CHAPTER 1.

She was running through a darkened room, shelves stacked high all around her, her nose overcome with the smell of dust that lingered heavily in the air.

She kept going, her lungs burned, and her leggs ached, she was tripping over things in the darkness, catching herself narrowly, her body covered in cuts and bruises. She had been serching for hours, and was about to give up, when she saw it.

Reluctantly she clambered up a mountain of lost and forgotten objects, ballancing precariously at the top , her knees digging painfully against some ancient and forgotten black chrystal orbs. Stretching her right arm towards the diadem, the sword of Griffyndor still clasped firmly in her left hand, she tottered precariously.

She grabbed it, almost falling off an antique desk in the process, and ran back through the deserted castle to Dumbledors office, where she found the headmester himself waiting for her, with a very tired, confused looking Harry and Ron.

"Blimey Mione. Whats going on?" Asked a very grumpy Ronald.

"So sorry to have awoken you Ronald, but we thought you might like to witness the destruction of part of Lord Voldemorts soul." Hermione said, her voice dripping sarcasm.

"Is that it then?" Asked harry eagerly, staring at the tiara that Dumbledore was examining.

"Indeed. Bravo Miss Granger, where was it?" Dumbledore peered at the short, curly haired girl over his half moon spectacles.

"Room of Requirement." She said simply, trying to hand the sword back to the headmaster.

"No miss Granger, I think it should be you to rid us of this evil, after all, you discovered it." the headmaster said.

She looked unsure for a moment, then nodded grimly.

Squaring her shoulders as the others moved away from the desk, Hermione hefted the heavy, goblin wrought sword, and swung it over her head, crushing the dainty heriloom.

There was an almighty blast, which sent the occupants of the room flying, as the tiara exploded violently, emitting terrible shrieks and cries of agony, that made Hermione cover her ears dessperate to block out the sound.

The diadem crumpled in on itself and seeped what looked like conjield, blackened blood over Hermione, who had been closest, and the office walls and floor.

When the blood came into contact with Hermione's skin, it started to burn, melting through the fabric of her clothes, and raising angry welts on her flesh. She started screaming, crying hoplessly, only vaguley aware of the other occupants in the office crowding around her in concern.

She could hear Harry calling her name frantically, as if from a great distance away.

Then everything faded into darkness.

Hermione Granger awoke to the smell of coffee, and the distant sound of her mothers pattering about in the kitchen. She was soaked through with sweat, clinging to the bed sheets.

The nightmares again.

She had been suffering from nightmares frequently, ever department of mysteries, and since the she had found and destroyed the horcrux at the end of her last school year. Having spent three weeks in a bed had given her plenty of time to think over where Voldemort would hide a part of his soul.

Dumbledore had shared the prophecy with the Golden Trio two nights after the 'official' return of Voldemort, or as Hermione liked to think of it, when the Ministry pulled their heads out of their arses. She had only been out of the hospital wing for a week after the department of mistery's disaster, which had left many injured, though thankfully there had been no fatalitys. Madam Pomfrey had been livid upon Hermione's re-addmitance, threatning to have a plaque made for 'her' bed in the wing if she got herself hurt again that year.

Hermione looked down at her right hip, where the scarrs from the horcrux still shone. Like little burn marks from the blood spatter pattern, stretching for about four inches around her hip bone, and the top of her thigh. It wasn't really noticable out of direct light, merley appearing paler than the rest of her skin.

Reaching beneath her pillow, she retreaved a shief of yellow parchment covered in messy, scrawling writing. This was her latest letter from Charlie Weasley, someone she had been close with for about two years now. They had been corresponding via letters since Hermione's fourth year, and ever since then, she always slept with his missives beneath her pillow.

This letter had arrived about a week ago, just after the end of term. It was in reply to the letter Hermione had sent him, filling him in on the happenings at the department of mysterys, her injuries and plans for the summer.

She smiled to herself as she unfolded the parchment, and began to read;

Dear Mya,

Merlin Granger, you don't do things by half do you, and don't think I don't know that you left out the worst of your injuries in that letter, I double checked with Ginny! Honestly Princess, you needent have bothered trying to spare my feelings, firstly because you could never lie to me anyway, even by letter! And secondly, I'm going to worry regardless!

Still, I'm glad you're better, and if you could not run off in the middle of the night to fight death eaters again, I would be greatfull. You nearly gave me a heart attack.

I also heared from Ginny, about how you saved her at the ministry, and that idiot little brother of mine, so thank you. It probably makes me a terrible older brother, but if my younger siblings are going to run away to fight highly trained murderers, without adult supervision, in the dead of night, then I'm glad they were with you!

I liked how you finally got rid of that Umbridge woman, very origional! But if it had been me, she would have been gone the second she used a blood quill on you - how is the healing, by the way? I hope the murtlap did it's job. Still, having her carried off by a heard of centaur makes up in flair, what it lacks in timing!

My summer holidays are going to be slightly diffrent this year, I'm actually taking time off work! (No dragon jokes, please!) But I have a feeling this summer should be eventfull, so not exactly a relaxing retreat. The guys on the reserve got wind of my holliday, and have convinced themselves that I'm going to visit a beautiful witch, a certain bookworm as a matter of fact, who's had me writing letters for the fist time since they've known me!

In your last letter you said that your summer would be spent at Number Twelve? I'm guessing you'll see your family first though, knowing you. I'm sure you'll have lots of fun, being in a house with the twins, two ex-marrauders and the boy who lived is my idea of a great time...(Note the sarcasm.) I don't think sleeping is going to be entirley safe, so good luck.

Matilda layed her egg! I'm now a grandfather! The blokes on the reserve are arguing over names again, it never gets old. Everyone here is fine, and no, none of us have been eaten by the dragons since the last time you asked. It's nice to know you worry (More sarcasm).

Write back quickly, and I'll see you soon, Bookworm.

Love from,

Charlie xx

Hermione grinned goofily at her letter, pondering over the parting 'I'll see you soon', perhaps he would visit his family during his summer off? She certainly hoped so! And, the 'beautiful witch, a bookworm', the thought made her stomach do summersaults.

She sighed, and rolled over, pushing her matted, bushy curls from her face. By checking the digital alarm clock on her bedside table, she learned that it was nearly half past eight, time for her to get moving.

It was the summer before Hermione's sixth year at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, making her officially sixteen years old, technically her seventeenth birthday wouldn't be until a few weeks into the new school term, however, due to the use of a time turner during her third year, she was in fact, technically, already of age in the wizarding world, as of a few hours ago.

Sitting up in bed, Hermione pulled her wand from the bedside table, before flicking it in the direction of her window, opening the curtains and allowing morning sunlight to spill through. She grinned triumphantly, just as she thought, it seemed to her that most wizarding law was founded on loopholes.

Reveling in her new found magical freedom, Hermione jumped up, and used her wand to make the bed, she chuckled with glee, turning her bedspread from blue to white, just because she could now do so without the ministry of magic breathing down her neck.

She settled on a soft yellow color, that matched Crookshank's eyes. She sighed, she missed that cat, he had passed away at the beginning of the summer, he had been a constant friend to her, and she had ben destrought.

It was then that she came to a deligtful realisation, pointing her wand at her head, she wordlessly and magically un notted her hair, and pulled it back into a french braid. She beamed, she would never have to fight with a hair brush ever again, it was a wounderful thought.

She went to check her reflection, and sure enough, her hair was almost tame! She took herself in. She hadn't grown much in hight since her fourth year, bearly five feet tall, she was the shortest of her friends by a long way. Her figure had filled out though, with slender leggs and a slim waist, her breasts weren't large, but on her small frame they fit, and her hipps weren't up to much either.

Hermione shook her head, she cared little for her looks. It wasn't that she didn't want to look nice, she just had her priority's in slightly better order. Grinning, she pointed her wand at her check pajamas, turning them from red to green, and then to blue. Chuckling to herslef, she transfigured the cartoon dog on her t-shirt into a mouse, and then a cat.

"Darling, breakfast!" Hermione's mother called from the floor bellow. Temporarily halting her fun, she stashed her wand in her pyjama pocket, and went to begin her day.

"Morning mum, where's Dad?" She asked, entering the kitchen, kissing her mother good morning. Sitting down at the square table and helping herself to toast, she looked at her mother, awaiting a response.

Jean Granger shuffled slightly, she was a kind faced, petite woman, who was always smiling, and had a sparkle in her eye worthy of Albus Dumbledore.

"He's just popped out dear, shouldn't be much longer," she replied, noncommittaly. The young witch stared, she had just decided to push matters further, when her mother changed the subject. "Got anything planned for today?"

Today was the final day of her holidays with her parents before going to stay at Grimauld Place with her friend Harry, his godfather Sirius, the weasley's, and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Just packing I suppose, last minute stuff." Packing would now be a doddle, thanks to the removal of her trace, she had already done most of it anyway.

Jean nodded distractedly, "So you'll be home all morning...?" she hedged.

"I guess so..." Hermione said, curiosity flaring, "Why?"

Just as her mother opened her mouth to reply, the noise of the front door being opened reached their ears, "I'm back." Called a decidedly stressed sounding Herman Granger, as he made his way into the kitchen. "Morning love," he greeted his daughter, pecking her on the cheek.

Herman Granger, like his wife, had a kind look about him. He was tall and thin, with sandy brown hair that was thinning on top. The comassionate look in his eye turned to adoration whenever he beheld his daughter, who was his 'be all and end all, forever', as he had told her as a little girl.

"Morning Dad, been out?" Hermione noticed that her father was refusing to look her in the eye, "Hmmmmmm", was his insightful response.

"Is something wrong, you both seem ... off." Asked a now truly worried Hermione. Her parents exchanged a loaded look, before Jean sighed, almost in defeat and turned to her daughter.

"Here." Herman presented his daughter with a flat velvet box, obviously the fruit of his morning trip.

Opening the box, she discovered a beautiful yellow gold filigree pendant, encasing a polished onyx stone, in the shape of an elongated tear drop. It lay on a long, golden chain, and when she put It on the pendant dropped between her breast, lying flat to the top of her sternum. She loved it.

"Thank you, it's beautiful, but...why?"

"Nothing is wrong love, no, but we have something to tell you." she began, gazing upon her daughter almost beseechingly, as of already begging forgiveness for what she was about to say.

"We understand that in your world, you become an adult at seventeen," Jean began tentatively, "And through the correspondence your father and I have with professor Dumbledore, we are also aware thet you reach that majority today. This is probably creating more questions than its answering, but bare with me love, ok?" Hermione nodded, her lips thinned and her eyes narrowing, she wasn't sure she liked where this was going.

"During your third year, Professor Dumbledore informed us of your use of a time... something, that allowed you to go to all your lessons, but made you age a bit faster?" That wasn't technically correct, but it was the gist, so Hermione nodded.

"Well, since then there has been no need for correspondence between us, untill a few weeks ago, when he informed us of your impending coming of age. There really is no easy way for us to tell you this dear, but, seventeen years ago, we, your father and I, adopted you. That's partly the reason for the pedant, as well as a birthday gift, we wanted you to have something to remember us by, to know that no matter what you will always be a daughter to us." She finished tearfully, dabbing at her eyes.

Here Mrs granger paused, letting the information sink in. Hermione just sat there, motionless for seconds, you could almost see her brain turning, then she blinked. Once, twice, again.

"Adopted?... From where?" Hermione wasn't stupid, far from it in fact, she was famed as the brightest witch of her age, if she, a witch, was given up to the care of two non magical persons, well, there where implications.

"That's the thing dear," her father cut in, "The reason Professor Dumbledore wrote to us at the beginning of the summer holidays, he will be arriving here shortly, to explain." Upon hearing this news Hermione visibly paled, a personal visit from the greatest wizard of all time was rarely a good ting in her experience.

Just as Hermione's brilliant mind started to spiral out of control, hypothesising different reasons for her impending visit, each more terrible and unlikely than the last, her musings where cut short, by a nock on the front door.

Jumping from her frozen state, and gripping the handle of her wand behind het back, Hermione slowly rose from her seat in front of her now cold forgotten toast, and walked in trepidation to answer the door.

She almost laughed at herself, the sence of dread in the pit of her stomach, coupled with her ominous actions was enough to make her envisage thunder crashing in the distance. Shaking herself, Hermione reach for the door handle, and pulled.

There, on her porch stood one of the stranger things she'd seen so far in her life, in in the case of Hermione Granger, that really was saying something. She kept her wand gripped firmly in her right hand, still not wholey comfortable with the situation.

In front of her stood a rather excited looking professor Dumbledore, dressed in roabs of the most alarming colour orange she had ever seen, he was fidling excitedly with the muggle doorbell, chuckling delighedly to himself.

Next to him, stood a scowling, slightly embarrassed Professor McGonagall, Hermione's favourite teacher.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore, smiling affablly, " I believe you where expecting us." He looked at Hermione's drawn wand, but didn't reprimand her. On the contrary, he looked approving, almost proud.

"Good morning professors," she replied curteously, trying desperately to remain calm, as she fiddled with the chain of her pendant, despite her growing panicky, "Please come in."

The two new comers, followed the young witch into the muggle dwelling, they all congregated in the living room, where Mr and Mrs Granger now sat.

"Could I offer you anything, some tea perhaps ...?" Hermione offered, the situation now becoming so surreal that she was half expecting to wake up at any moment, or for Draco Malfoy to burst through the door on a centaur, proclaiming his undying love for her, or for this all to have been a bad joke.

"No thank you my dear, we have much to discuss, I can imagine you have many questions." Dumbledore, thankfully seemed to get straight to the point.

"What happened to your hand professor?" she asked, side tracked by her headmaster's blackened hand, which he quickly hid behind the folds of his robe.

"Some difficulty with an old ring, nothing fatal." He said pointedly, Hermione understood.

She, Harry and Ron had know of voldemorts horcruxes since the end of last year, she knew that if Dumbledore had destroyed another, most probably the ring, and Harry the diary, whilst she herself had gotten Ravenclaw's Diadem from the room of requirement, and Snape, the cup from the Lestranges vault, the there were only three left, including voldemort himself. Hermione dragged herself back to the topic at hand.

"My parents say im adopted?" Hermione blurted out, her voice a little higher than usual, displaying her feelings on the subject, almost as if she where begging the elderly wizard to tell her It was all some horrid joke.

Professor Mcgonagall looked purposfully away from Hermione, something akin to pitty in her eyes. That scared Hermione more than she could say, her transfiguration professor was an imensly powerful and strong willed witch, one Hermione had never seen turn her eyes from anything.

"Yes my dear," he imput gently, almost pityingly, seeing the ground disappear from beneath the girls feet. He took no pleasure in the task he had to perform this day, knowing that Hermione Granger would neer truley be the same again. He sighed greatly, and began to speak;

"Some years ago, during the dark lords last reign of terror, I was contacted by a young couple, both of great wealth and standing within the magical community, of a plight in which they required my help. The young woman In question was with child, under normal circumstances not a problematic situation, in fact something to be celebrated, however this you couple were under threat from Lord Voldemort, and feared they didn't have much longer on this earthly plane.

In a last attempt to provide a safe future for their only child, a daughter, they turned to me. This woman, Catherine Greenwood was a very powerful witch, a great force for the light side, from an anchient pureblood family, extreemly wealthy and a renound beauty, a veela. She and her husband, Stephan, knew that there was no hope of saving themselves, they had both lost many from their family's to the war already, but they knew they could yet do some good. That they could save you Hermione, their daughter."

Here Dumbledore paused, gazing sadly at the young woman, who was now crying silently before him.

"It was decided that you would be protected, and kept in ignorance for you own safety Until you were of age. Shortly after your birth, you where given over to the Grangers, but not until I placed powerful protection upon you. Like Harry, you have the protection of Sacrifice, given by your perants, their love holds you still, my dear." his voice shook with emotion.

"But also a powerful glamour, for you see, with your veela heritage, from your mother, it was important that you not to attract to much attention from your peers, there fore I placed a glamour charm upon you, to hide you part veela charms."

Dumbledore seeing Hermione's raising panick at this chuckled, "Do not worry dear, I did not change the way you looked completely, merely dimmed the flame if you will, where the glamour is removed, you will simply be a more...veela version of your current self."

Hermione was not completely convinced, but nodded none the less, truth be told, she was in shock, realising this, professor McGonagall spoke for the first time.

"Hermione dear, I realise this Is all a bit of a surprise," Hermione fought back a snort, that was the understatement of the millennia, "but things really wont change that much dear, now you simply know the truth."

As strange as It seemed, McGonagall words did make her feel better, at first that is. She was right after all, noting really had changed, unless of course you counted being adopted, orphaned and discovering your part human part veela hominid and pureblood status counted, also her wealth and standing in society, and her family's status as Voldermort targets. On second thoughts, Hermione disregarded her teachers words, things where definitely different.

"Ok, so I'm actually a pureblood part veela, who was adopted by muggles, In secret, for my own safety?" Hermione asked somewhat sceptically, her inner thoughts, or consience, had lost it completley, incapable of coherant thought, she was just laughing hysterically, rocking back and forth manically.

Dumbledore merely beamed and nodded, as if thrilled that Hermione had grasped the theory so quickly. Mcgonagall winced, but nodded none the less.

"Right." she mumbled, she felt faint. "So... so what now?" she asked hessitantly, terrified of the answer.

Dumbldore pondered his answer for a moment, then;

"Well, you will inherit a rather substantial amount of gold in your new vault at gringotts, not to mention extensive property in both Britain and Europe. Then later today you will come to headquarters with us, as planned, and there we will remove your glamour, and envoke the veela part of your geenes, it can not be done here because your house is being watched, as i'm sure you have already realised, the ministry cannot know of this.

Finally, and most importantly you will continue to be yourself, you will have access to what is your by right, but we need not advertise your return to the wizarding world too greatly, not yet at least, especially not with such dark and difficult times ahead." He looked at her questioningly, waiting for her agreement, she managed to nod vaguley, her head was starting to spin.

"Now if that's all, I think we should get moving, and perhaps my dear, you should get changed." The headmaster said bracingly, clapping his hands together.

Now feeling extremely light headed, Hermione looked down, and realised she was still in her flannal pyjamas from when she had awoken, cartoon cat and all! Looking around the room once more, she noticed four pairs of eyes watching her concernedly, and she promptly passed out.