Chapter 1

She still couldn't get over how amazing magic really was, as she stood there watching the looming house grow between numbers 11 and 13. Tonks, an auror, had met Hermione and her parents at Diagon Alley to escort Hermione to the Weasleys for the remainder of her summer. Tonks had bright bubblegum pink hair, that was currently fashioned into a pixie cut. Hermione instantly liked her, and deduced by her rapid change of appearance after the departure of her parents, that Tonks was also a metamorphmagus.

Hermione, at fifteen, had finally grown into her looks and hair, of course the ferret's stray jinx last year helped her in reducing her teeth. She had taken to a change in wardrobe now that her figure wasn't so awkward, and found herself a bit more concerned over her appearance than she previously had been. Her curls were honey blonde, and now manageable, they fell in soft waves and stopped in the middle of her back. She had a tan from trips to Brighton beach with her parents over the summer, and just a smattering of lipgloss completed her newfound confidence.

The note with Dumbledore's handwriting had long vanished into flames, and the previously nonexistent house had now settled. Hermione felt an odd sense of deja vu upon looking at the facade of the now conspicuous building. She felt as though she were recalling a dream.

"Welcome to the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix," Tonks beamed.

"The what?" Hermione queried.

"Oh, right. Let's hurry inside and I can explain more. Moody will read me the riot act if I say anything too much outside. Besides, I have a nasty habit of waking up dear Aunt Walburga's portrait due to my lack of coordination," Tonks explained as she opened the door.

It creaked open ominously and the feeling of familiarity began to burn stronger within Hermione. She couldn't understand why she felt like she should know this place. She was a muggleborn, after all, anything in the wizarding world was mostly alien to her. Tonks tripped over what appeared to be a troll's leg in the dimly lit hallway, and suddenly lights blazed and the curtains of a portrait swiftly swung open to reveal a dark haired woman.

"Nasty half-blood! How dare you defile the noble House of Black. You—" she broke off upon looking at Hermione. Tonks seemed to be a bit shocked by this, because the portrait had never stopped spewing her vitriol until silenced and covered again. Sirius, who was approaching the hallway, also stopped in surprise to watch the portrait. Hermione slowly approached her mesmerized. Disjointed memories were flashing across her mind, and what she had thought had been a dream was a long forgotten childhood.

"Grandmother?" Hermione whispered, almost certain she was right.

"What have they done to you, my beautiful child? Why is your hair that color? Who is responsible for this?" the portrait demanded, clearly outraged.

"I'm not sure, I am only now remembering. What happened to father? He and mother left me with a friend, but promised to return. Men in black cloaks with masks came, they took me, but I can't remember the rest," Hermione cried, clutching her head as a wave of pain hit her when trying to remember what happened.

"That's enough for now, I think," Sirius proclaimed, as he drew the curtains on the portrait. He watched Hermione curiously, gauging her state of mind. Tonks took her by the arm, and Sirius led them to the drawing room.

"It seems, cousin, that we didn't know Regulus as well as we thought," Tonks smirked.