Summary- She had always known she was adopted, and for many years she had also known that she would be returned to her birth family, but she had no idea what family she belonged to. Truthfully, she hadn't ever cared. But now the time has come. Secrets come out and Hermione must start the next chapter of her life. As a Nott.

Disclaimer- The premise is inspired by the cliché challenge on GE, the characters are Jo's, but the characterizations, for the most part, are mine, all mine! (and no money changes hands)

Author's Note- I'm trying to keep this as close to canon through book 5 as possible, but there are some big differences, which you will find out in time. also much thanks to the beta for this fic, Lupie.

The Letter

Sunday, June 8, 1997

Hermione Granger woke up in her bed at her parent's home as she had every day since the summer holidays began. The war had ended- the final battle where Harry killed Voldemort with a Rebounding Charm had been almost a month ago now. In two more weeks, she would be going to the Burrow, but until then she was happy to be spending so much time with her parents. Hermione had spent most of her school holidays with Harry and Ron and she had missed them.

Looking over at the clock, she saw that it was already almost nine. It was late, especially for the summer. As far as she was concerned, early morning was the best time of day- the air crisp, the world taking its time to wake. Slipping from her bed, Hermione stretched her entire body before collecting her things and heading to the bathroom to take a shower.

Half an hour later, Hermione was sitting at the breakfast table, eating the food she had prepared alone, both of her parents already at work. As she was cleaning off her plate, she heard a slight tapping at the window and looked up to see a regal owl sitting on the windowsill. She dried off her hands and opened the window, allowing the owl to land on the counter. It promptly stuck out its foot, and she took the attached parchment, giving the owl a couple of treats and a drink of water before it took off to wherever it came from.

Curious, Hermione gazed at the wax seal, the family crest imprinted on it foreign to her. She ripped through the seal and unrolled the parchment, laying it down on the table to read, her remaining dishes forgotten.

Miss Hermione Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that two days from now, June 10, 1997, on the date of your majority, a meeting has been set up between yourself, your adoptive parents, Eugene and Madeline Granger, your birth parents, Brisco and Caoilinn Nott, and your brother, Theodore Nott, concerning your impending reconciliation with your birth family, as stated in paragraph twenty of your adoption agreement.

All parties are expected to be at 1489 Drury Lane, London, the offices of Bender, Fry, and Zoidberg at precisely 3:30PM. We look forward to meeting you and helping you and your family in this time of need.

Sincerely,

Philip J. Fry

Hermione read through the parchment three times before rolling it back up, her entire body trembling. Nott? She was a Nott? She had always known she was adopted, and for many years she had also known that she would be returned to her birth family, but she had no idea what family she belonged to. Second year, when Malfoy had called her a Mudblood, she had tried to correct him. She didn't know if she were a pureblood or not, but she assumed she had to be at least half-blood. The words would not leave her mouth, as though some sort of magic would not let the secret be revealed. Because of this, neither of her best friends knew of her heritage.

Truthfully, she hadn't ever cared. While in most things Hermione was insatiable in her thirst for knowledge, this was one subject that thirst did not pertain to. As far as she had always been concerned, Eugene and Madeline Granger were her parents, the couple that had created her nothing more than a sperm and egg donor.

But a Nott? She had at one point considered that she was the offspring of Death Eaters, but had quickly bypassed the thought. She had imagined that if it were the truth she would not have been sorted into Gryffindor, conveniently ignoring all of the examples that would strengthen her counterpoint.

In the back of her mind, though, she had known it to be a probability more than a possibility. When she had been told that she would be returned to her birth family at her majority, she had asked why they would want her back if they had given her up in the first place. She was told that she had been given away for safety reasons. She couldn't figure out what exactly those reasons could be, but it had sounded foreboding to the thirteen year old witch.

She thought back to her interactions with the Nott family. She had never seen the woman who had given birth to her, and the only time she had been around her supposed father was a little over a year ago at the Department of Mysteries. She had never seen his face since he had kept his mask on, but she knew which one he was, one of the other Death Eaters having called him by name. The more she tried to recollect that night the more she realized that he had never sent a spell her way, and hadn't sent anything more powerful than a Stunning Spell to her friends.

She had been in quite a few classes with Theo over the years. He seemed smart, though he never answered the teacher's questions unless directly asked. He was a quiet person and he seemed to prefer being alone rather than joining a group. She had never gotten the impression that he was friends with Malfoy and his cronies, and she couldn't remember a single occasion where... her brother... had ever made fun of her or her friends. She had never really thought twice of the quiet Slytherin, positively or negatively.

Now that she knew of the relation, she was surprised that no one had figured it out, including herself. Theo was tall, almost a whole head taller than her. In their younger years, he had been so thin that he bordered being scrawny, but now, though he was still incredibly thin, his shoulders were broader, his arms toned rather than massive, and he had an air of confidence about him. At least of what she could remember from seeing him about the school when they weren't required to wear their uniforms.

It was his face that gave away their relation, though. They had the same lips, the same eyes, and the same eyebrows. Only their noses and cheekbones differed, the latter probably because of their genders. Not to mention his hair. He kept it clipped short, but once or twice over the years he had let it grow out so his entire head was covered in brown curls that she suspected would turn frizzy if he let it grow any longer or used less product in it.

An errant thought entered her mind and she unrolled the parchment again, her eyes confirming her confused thought. The letter said that her birthday was in two days, on the tenth. She had always celebrated it on the twelfth. In her adoption had they even changed her birthday? She was going to have a long talk with her parents tonight. Even if she hadn't wanted to know who her birth family was, her parents knew that she would be meeting them within the week and should not have let her find out like this.

She spent the day in thought before making a large dinner with all of her favourite comfort food. When her parents came home and saw the spread on the table, they knew that something was wrong but knew their daughter better than to ask what had happened. She would bring it up in her own time.

After all the dishes from dinner had been cleaned and put away, Hermione pulled the parchment from a drawer and handed it to her father. He opened it and read it, his face turning whiter with every sentence. Her mother, who was reading the letter from over his shoulder, brought her hand to her bosom as tears filled her eyes.

Hermione had gracelessly plopped into a cushy chair in the lounge while they were reading and they soon followed, sinking into the matching couch, their fingers entwined for support.

"Why didn't you tell me who they were?" Hermione asked, looking at her parents, her voice filled with more hurt than even she expected.

"We couldn't, honey, not until the week before you were to meet them," her father told her, soothingly.

"But that would have been last week, and I wouldn't have found out by post," Hermione pouted.

"We - we forgot that you are considered of age at seventeen in the wizarding world. We thought we still had another year with you," her mother sniffled, trying unsuccessfully to hold back her tears at the thought of losing her daughter so soon.

At this, Hermione lost her resolve to be mad with her parents and crossed the room, cuddling in between them as her own tears spilled over.

"Why does it say that my birthday is in two days and not four?" she asked, her head resting on her father's shoulder and her hand ensconced with her mothers.

"Well, honey, that was one of the stipulations in the adoption. You couldn't keep the same birthday because it would make the connection easier to figure out, since you and your brother are twins."

"Twins? Theo is my twin? But aren't twins supposed to have some kind of connection? I've never felt anything like that with him."

Madeline smiled indulgently at her daughter who was sometimes so smart but sometimes so naive. "Hermione, dear, that's very rare. Even in those cases, the two people involved grew up together and in the same home."

"I know, Mum," Hermione sighed, "I'm just trying to make some sense of all this."

"How about we put this to the back of our minds for a couple days and have some fun as a family," Eugene suggested. "We can start by going out to the movies tonight, and tomorrow your mother and I will take a sick day and we'll spend the entire day together."

"That sounds nice," Hermione replied with a small smile.