Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. That's just my dream.

"Ms. Granger, I have some interesting news and I feel rather certain you'll have questions. Would you like to come up to my office and discuss it over tea?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"Oh, of course, Headmistress. I had some questions for you about prefect schedules anyways," replied Head Girl Hermione Granger, following her beloved Head of House up the spiral stairs.

"Now, I'm certainly in agreement with your position on Divination, but you and I both know that there are a few prophecies which ought be heeded. I have yet to determine whether this one is or isn't, but I'm inclined to believe it's believable, as it coincides rather too perfectly with some other recent findings, dear," explained McGonagall patiently. "Just give me a moment to put the kettle on, and I'll show you."

Rather confused, Hermione sat down on the mauve and gold chaise lounge. "Professor, I'm afraid I don't quite follow you."

Sitting down opposite Hermione on the loveseat across the tea table, McGonagall took a deep breath. "After your parents were murdered, we sent the bodies to St. Mungo's for magical autopsies. We checked for all the routine things, and because they'd been Crucio'd, on top of some post-mortem contusions found induced by some Muggle kitchen tools, did some blood tests. Now, that's where things got interesting.

"We compared your parents' blood to the blood withdrawn from similarly treated Muggles. However, the tests revealed radiation exposure levels that were not alarmingly high, but high enough to warrant a more thorough examination. When they consulted Dumbledore's portrait, he recommended they compare with your old blood samples, from both here and Mungo's, to ensure your exposure wasn't high enough to be a health risk. But we ran for everything we could think of, just to be sure. No one told you, because we didn't think it necessary. However, as these tests take time, we've only just started getting results back.

Your radiation exposure levels are fine, rather lower than what we had anticipated, which is excellent. However, it would seem there's been some incredibly complex magic cast on you…oh, there's the kettle. Just a minute, child."

What could this mean? Hermione wondered. Am I ill? Terminal disease, perhaps? Or maybe it's something more Dark. Could it be that I'm something that's prophecied to hurt Harry? Oh, no, I couldn't possibly bear that…hmm. Maybe it's something else, like-

"Hermione, dear. Stop worrying, I can see the thoughts spinning in your head. Cream or sugar for your tea?"

"Both, please, Headmistress."

As Hermione leaned across the frosted glass table to reach her teacup, her curiosity began to get the better of her.

"Here you go, dear."

"Thank you, Professor. Professor, I don't mean to be rude, but could you please tell me what the Mungo's staff found?"

"Yes, yes, I'm about to. Essentially, they're concerned that their spells triggered an automatic database search which seems to connect you to the Potter, Black, Gaunt, and Selwyn families, among others: namely, all four founders' families. Now, as nearly all of these families have died out, combined with the fact that this triggering has never happened before, the staff was quite puzzled. But they think that, though your mother certainly gave birth to you, your genetics have been modified at various points in your life, beginning with the moment of your conception."

"I don't understand this. Not at all! I'm the spitting image of my parents, and I'm prone to all the same diseases they are, have the same blood type…what could possibly have happened to me? Professor?"

"Hermione, I can't say I understand it any more than you do. But St. Mungo's owled me this just a few minutes before I went to fetch you, and I haven't opened it yet. It's all their preliminary findings on your conundrum, as well as the reports from autopsy on your parents. Here, go through it. And, should you ever need to discuss things, know that I as well as the other staff, are always more than willing to listen. Take your time, and be sure to owl back to St. Mungo's any questions you may have. They're most excited about your situation, you know, and really quite prepared to provide answers to your questions if they have any, after your assistance there during the chaos following the Last Battle?"

This is ridiculous! These files are huge, and I'm hardly a Healer. What am I supposed to do? Well, there's always the library, I suppose….

"Certainly, Professor," replied Hermione, taking the files from her favorite teacher. "Thanks for the tea. And do you want me to leave the prefect schedules on your desk to review?"

"That'll be fine, dear. Get some rest, and be sure you're ready for the term to begin and welcome all the students in two weeks' time." And with that, Hermione was dismissed.

There's no time like the present to begin, and Merlin knows I've long since finished every assignment due at the start of term….

So off she went, back to the Heads' Common Room, files in hand.