Disclaimer: I do not own any aspect of Harry Potter. I'm simply borrowing the characters and some of the plot for a little while.

I intend for this to be rated M; everything within that category is fair game (to include any variety of citrus-y scenes, since I prefer them in my stories; violence; swearing; etc.). If you're underage or that type of story doesn't interest you, please press the back button to exit.

This will be AU with elements of canon, beginning at the end of GoF. Based on certain scenes that I've already begun thinking up, I want this to go through DH; we'll see if the characters cooperate. Either way, it will be long. There may be a few canon pairings, but I haven't decided which ones yet.

As graduate school is getting ready to pick up for my final semester, updates may be a little sporadic initially. I have some chapters already written, edited, and/or outlined, but it's a pretty small buffer. Hopefully you'll like it enough to be patient with me. On that note, on with the show!


Chapter 1

It was too quiet. The scream and resounding red flare that had shot into the air had left the families and students sitting in the stands outside the maze of the Triwizard Tournament's final task shifting in restlessness and unease. Hermione had been placed under a magical sleep for the second task, so she could only imagine how similar this was now. All they could do was watch and wait.

Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum were both being floated, unconscious, out of the maze. Although it sent many Hogwarts students into a frenzy of excitement knowing that their school had won, it only caused increased anxiety to rise in Hermione's chest. Tuning out the energetic conversation next to her between Ron and his family, Hermione focused steadily on the entrance of the maze. They had prepared Harry as best they could in advance, but would it be enough? What obstacles resided in that labyrinth that had the ability to take out Fleur and Viktor?

So focused was she on where Harry could be in the maze and what he could be facing, that at first she was able to ignore the tingling in her left arm. As minutes passed, the tingling grew into an insistent itch that Hermione scratched through the sleeve of her thin jumper. Ron looked at her in mild curiosity, but shrugged it off and turned back to Bill when she shook her head in silent communication that she was fine. Everything was not fine, however, when a sharp, burning pain erupted from the irritated skin on her forearm. Hermione released a pained hiss as she clutched her arm to her chest. A gut feeling told her that something was off. Hermione scanned the crowd standing in the clearing before the maze where the champions had initially gathered, and found Madam Pompfrey tending to the resuscitated Beaubaxtons champion.

"Is everything alright, Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley asked from across Ron. While her face did not express the same warmth that it had prior to Skeeter's slanderous article, it had certainly improved from the cool disapproval evident with her Easter package.

"I'm fine," Hermione replied through clenched teeth. The burning was increasing in intensity and she wondered what she had gotten into that would cause such a reaction. Getting to her feet, Hermione nearly fell to her knees on the stairs when another flaming pulse shot through her arm. She began to focus on her breathing to manage the pain, counting each second to measure the air coming in and out.

She was mere feet from the mediwitch when a third pulse caused her vision to blacken which, in turn, lead to her stumbling into someone waiting in the crowd awaiting the return of the final champions.

"S-sorry," Hermione gritted out through tightly clenched teeth, her breathing becoming quite labored. She blinked rapidly to encourage the return of her spotty vision. "I n-need…"

"To watch where you're going, Miss Granger," came the scathing reply. Hermione flinched, recognizing the voice of Hogwarts' least sympathetic professor.

"I'm sorry, Professor," she said again. She started to stumble off in the direction she last saw Madam Pomfrey. A firm hand on her upper arm halted her progress and she distantly heard Professor Snape call for the mediwitch.

"Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey said, tilting the young witch's head up to begin her examination. "What's the problem?"

"It's my arm," she ground out. "There's something…I don't know…"

"Let's take a look, then," she said in a no nonsense tone. "Roll up your sleeve."

Her arm trembled as she held it out from her body, slowly pulling the material up the skin of her oversensitive forearm. When she had it to her elbow, she stopped and stared at the indistinct dark patch that pulsed in time with her pain. Just as another wave hit, she watched with horror as the shape momentarily sharpened before fading back to an amorphous, if slightly darker, blur. Noit's not possible…

"Poppy, I'll take care of Miss Granger from here," Professor Snape said sharply. Ignoring the older woman's protests, he tightened his grip on her arm and began to drag her from the Quidditch pitch and back toward the school. No words passed between them nor did he slow his pace as Hermione suffered in denial from the image now branded in her mind. A brand…

Before she knew it, Professor Snape was throwing open the door to his dungeon office and throwing her into the chair set before his desk. He quickly pulled his wand and pointed it steadily at her, his black eyes glacial in their fury. "Who are you?"

Hermione's eyes widened in fear at the wrathful face of her Potions professor. "P-professor, I'm Hermione Gra-…"

"Muggleborn Hermione Granger would not have that mark on her arm!" Professor Snape interrupted savagely. "Are you the one responsible for putting Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire?"

"No! P-professor…" Hermione cried. Before she could say another word, the sharpest pain she'd felt that night doubled her over and stole her breath. She noted absently that Professor Snape had clutched his own arm, his jaw tightening.

Snape glared at the girl cowering in front of him, noting her reactions to the summons he, himself, had not felt in nearly 15 years. He ignored the fear rising in his chest at what that call would mean for him when he noted that the witch claiming to be Hermione Granger started to shake and whimper. With one hand clutched to her head and her left arm pressed tightly to her chest, Snape watched as tears fell down her cheeks from eyes squeezed tightly shut. She was shaking her head slowly from one side to the other, murmuring strangled denials under her breath as her features began to shift. The Dark Mark, now clearly discernable on her inner arm, was almost visibly beating in time with what he assumed was her heart rate. The Dark Lord had never been one to suffer disguises when he called the Death Eaters to his side, so whatever this woman was hiding, it would soon be revealed to him.

Her hair was the most obvious change, as a wave of platinum blonde silk flowed in a straightened sheet from the crown of her head to the middle of her back, erasing all signs of bushy, brown curls. He couldn't tell as well from her position sitting in a chair, but he thought that her clothes had shifted to fit her body differently. The hem of her trousers had not shifted, so her height must not have noticeably changed. Her skin tone evened out to a uniform pale color, different from the golden shade it held before. The quaking of her shoulders was slowing down and he watched as she raised her head and opened a pair of cerulean blue eyes that he never thought to see again. She gave a slow blink of confusion, her manicured hands still holding her head as she whispered in pained confusion, "Severus…?"

He dropped his wand without a thought and rushed forward to catch the young witch as she slumped forward in unconsciousness. He gently lowered her head to the floor, brushing aside the fine strands that had fallen across her face. His breathing was rapidly increasing, his dark eyes wide with incomprehension. She had died! It was not possible for her to be here…now…and so young…? But Dumbledore…

"Severus!" an urgent call came, the door to his office slamming open once more. "You must come. Harry…Severus, what happened?" In his shock, Severus Snape could not recall the last time he saw the Headmaster's face look so grave. The older wizard looked at the younger and knew that an explanation would be forthcoming, but not now. "Dobby?"

A crack of Apparition brought the house-elf to the crowded office. "Yes, Headmaster, sir?"

Albus Dumbledore waved a hand down to the fallen witch and nodded his head. "Would you please escort Miss Malfoy to the Hospital Wing?"

Dobby did a double take at seeing his former mistress lying on the floor. Tears pooled in his bulbous eyes. "Missy Maia?" The little elf stepped forward hesitatingly, before grabbing her hand and Disapparating them both.

"Severus, if you would? Please bring your supply of Veritaserum. It seems that our imposter has finally made his move…"

Inside, Severus Snape was screaming every profanity he could think of (and with years of service to the Dark Lord, his vocabulary was vast). Outwardly, he put on a blank mask and nodded his head in silent assent. Gathering the requested supplies, he quickly followed the Headmaster out of his office, resolved to have his questions answered the moment this matter was taken care of.


She knew that she wasn't conscious, but that didn't make her any less aware of what was happening to her. Years of lost memories were fighting for dominance in her head, all eager to refill her now unshielded mind.

Her memories as Hermione Granger temporarily fell under the onslaught of thought and emotion. Those memories that had been part of her mind the longest came to her first. She'd grown up as the second born, pureblooded daughter of Abraxas and Delphine Malfoy, younger sister to Lucius Malfoy. Every lesson in manners and deportment ran through her head, memories of one hex after another being sent her way for each mistake until she could effortlessly give the appearance of a perfectly dutiful, pureblooded female. She recalled her excitement at finally getting her letter to Hogwarts, its offer of escape long overdue to her beleaguered mind, and the pointed "reminder" from her father on which house she had better be sorted. Abraxas Malfoy had left a mark that had not faded for weeks, with the promise of something far more permanent should she disappoint him. The brief moment of hope and joy that flared in her chest at the chance for freedom when the Sorting Hat silently told her that red and gold were her true colors were smothered by nearly staggering disappointment when she requested to be placed in Slytherin instead. In her nearly 12 year-old mind, she did not believe she would survive the backlash promised by any other choice.

She remembered Severus Snape and Lily Evans, her first true friends once she was away from her family; the Slytherin boy had been the source of her introduction to the muggleborn witch. Lucius, already a prefect in his Fifth Year when she came, had ignored her associations at first, thinking them to be no more than a rebellious stage. The trio had received far more trouble from the meddlesome "marauders," as the quartet had dubbed themselves, than the Slytherins, at least until the end of Third Year. With Lucius graduating from Hogwarts, he had designated a couple of the younger Slytherins to keep an eye on his beloved sister. Antonin Dolohov and Rabastan Lestrange, both finishing their Fifth Year, had been deemed her chaperones in his absence. The bastards rarely let her out of their sight.

Although Lily didn't fully understand it, she was accepting that Maia could not meet with her in public as often as she once did. Lily had more than once listened as her poorly sorted friend raved about the injustices committed against pureblooded women all in the name of family honor. It was she that held Maia as she cried in her Fifth Year upon learning that she was contracted to marry Antonin Dolohov upon the completion of her studies. It was Lily who pointed out that what Maia had seen as inevitable could be put off for a few more years if the latter continued her education; the additional delay would give them more time to find a way to break her betrothal. Both had agreed, then, that they would apply for apprenticeships into the Healing program at St. Mungo's. The world outside of Hogwarts was growing darker and more dangerous, and they both felt these skills would be much needed in the coming years.

Severus dove into his studies with the appointment of Maia's new chaperones. It was often implied that he had much to make up for, given his inferior blood. It concerned both Maia and Lily to see his growing connections with some of the darker members of the Slytherin house. Their Fifth Year was particularly stressful on their already tenuous friendship. Lily, ever the brash lion, stubbornly refused to forgive him when he casually threw out the racial slur against her blood status. Although Maia knew that he had only spoken in anger and embarrassment for the harassment suffered by Potter and Black, he wanted nothing to do with her following Lily's rejection of his apology. Both girls had wept at the loss of their friend.

The summer before her final year at Hogwarts was one of the worst in Maia's recovering memory. Her brother, who undoubtedly had his faults but truly loved his sister, had taken the Dark Mark. Her father had been providing financial support to the Dark Lord's campaign for several years and staunchly approved of the decision made by his son and heir, seeing his actions as proof of his commitment to preserving the old ways of the wizarding aristocracy. While staying with the Malfoys that summer, the Dark Lord had cast a favorable eye to Maia, who had grown into a classic beauty, and put forth the command (delivered as a non-negotiable suggestion) that she join him following her graduation the following year. She knew that neither her father nor her brother would defend her against accepting this "honor," for truly, they saw her favor with the Dark Lord as a way for the Malfoy family to rapidly rise above their peers in power and prestige.

Maia knew that Lily had spoken to the Headmaster that year about the predicament in which she found herself, for he approached her shortly before she departed for the winter holidays. As she was of age, he discussed at length the special situation in which she found herself and the immense help she could be, if amenable to his plan. In short, Albus Dumbledore had asked Maia Malfoy, the perfect, pureblooded princess of Slytherin, to join the ranks of Death Eaters as a spy for his resistance group, the Order of the Phoenix.

The young witch was more than afraid of what would happen to her should she be found out. She had been the one to care for her brother the previous summer after his first failure for Lord Voldemort. She knew, without a doubt, that the consequences for betraying him would be far worse for her if she were discovered, especially given his preference and intended plans for her. It was the knowledge given to her by Albus Dumbledore that her one remaining friend, Lily Evans, had already agreed to fight in the Order that sealed the deal for her. She would not lose another friend, her chosen family, if there was anything she could do to prevent it. Ever the quick study, Maia spent the remainder of her Seventh Year in private lessons to learn Occlumency directly from Albus Dumbledore, himself. She had learned the art of Legilimancy in secret with Lily, both having decided that it would be better to have skills in both techniques. The latter could prove a powerful weapon, if used correctly, and could buy her time to escape an unwanted situation, if it arose.

The last few years of her life prior to her rebirth were filled with deceit. She had been able to put off the fulfillment of her contract to Dolohov by order of the Dark Lord, who had permitted her request to enlist in a Healer's apprenticeship with some mild amusement. She knew that he had no intention of letting her fulfill her betrothal contract, though even that was preferable to her over the plans she spent many nights imagining in horror. Although the Dark Lord was too busy at the time to fulfill his promise, it was well known among inner circle that Maia Malfoy was otherwise spoken for. It angered Antonin Dolohov to no end that she had managed to elude him, at least for a time.

As important as she was to their shared master, she was kept out of the most dangerous raids but still included in every meeting. It disgusted her to see the acts that the Death Eaters reveled in, and it was during these "entertainments" that her mask was put sorely to test. The rape, torture, and murder committed in front of her were enough to age her beyond her years. Not that she was any stranger to violence.

The young Malfoy knew that one day she would have to answer for her own crimes. One did not get the highly sought Dark Mark without first demonstrating one's loyalty to the cause. More than once she had been called on in meetings to dispense "justice" to Muggles and Muggleborns for their crimes against the wizarding world. She refused to torture, no matter how hard her brother's sister-in-law, Bellatrix Lestrange, goaded her. The cold façade she assumed when called to action as she efficiently dispensed the Killing Curse had earned her the nickname Belle Morte, for her icy beauty was the last thing her victims saw before greeting death.

Despite the deaths, which Maia could only justify to herself as being a mercy in comparison to what would happen to her victims if she refused to act, she was invaluable to the Order; her intelligence was key to preventing more than one massacre of Order members and Muggles alike. She was careful never to reveal herself to the Order, always disguising herself as someone else through the combined use of human transfiguration and Polyjuice potion. Dumbledore had maintained that her identity, known only by Lily Potter (Maia quite enjoyed ribbing her friend about that development) and himself, must remain uncompromised. Even in those dark times, it saddened her to see just how happy other members of the Order managed to be. She could never grow close to them, never explore new relationships with them, and never reveal to them that the girl that many of them had gone to school with and despised for her House and her family, was on their side.

There were two bright spots in that last year: her godson, Harry Potter, and her nephew, Draco. Lily confessed that she had to get James marvelously, black out drunk to get him to agree to her as Harry's godmother. Once written and sworn on his magic, it was a done deal. She never got to visit the way she wanted to, but the few clandestine playdates and multitude of letters were just enough to assuage her loneliness and guilt. She knew that Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, had gifted him with a broom for his first birthday. Not to be outdone, she had sent an autographed jersey from Puddlemere United (James' lifelong team) that would grow as Harry did. It was charmed so that the colors and signatures would never fade nor the fabric ever tear. Lily had filled a letter with details on the exuberance demonstrated by James when the gift came by owl. He had said that there was no reason to keep her identity a secret, for she obviously had excellent taste. The level of his intoxication that night ensured that he did not recall who was designated his son's godmother and Lily refused to share where she hid the legal documentation. It made Maia smile and fed her secret hope that one day she would be accepted by those she was fighting with and for.

The birth of Draco was widely celebrated by the Malfoy family. Narcissa had much trouble conceiving and holding a pregnancy to term and it was Maia that stayed by her side and cared for her when she was confined to bed rest. The Healer that attended Narcissa in Draco's delivery had stated that there would be no other children for the Malfoy couple, so it went without question that the newest Malfoy heir was doted upon. Maia could see that Lucius and Narcissa spoiled him and he learned quickly how to use it to his advantage. Trying to prevent the ego and sense of entitlement that she could foresee in his future, Maia showed him love and support while giving him a healthy dose of the word, "no." She secretly hoped that when this war was over, and the Dark Lord was gone, she could introduce Draco to Harry. It was with that mind that she bought a training broom for him for his first birthday.

The beginning of her final memories were of a day playing with her year-old nephew on the Persian carpet of the drawing room. He was smiling widely at her and she delighted in bringing forth his toothy grin with the toys she made fly just out of reach. Narcissa was sitting nearby taking tea, watching contently as her younger sister-in-law entertained her son. The floo had activated and an agitated Severus Snape had emerged, asking (or demanding, as it came across) to speak with Maia alone.

It had been many years since they had given more than a nod of acknowledgment to each other at the revels required by their shared master. With a harsh slash of his wand, Severus erected a spell of his own making to keep their conversation private. His clenched fists shook with barely contained emotion, his eyes wildly searching the room. When he failed to speak, Maia asked in detached manner, "What brings you here, Severus?"

"It's Lily," he replied in a pained whisper. His eyes finally settled on hers and she could see every emotion that he normally kept hidden so well.

Maia's face assumed a mask of blank politeness. "What of her?"

"I know that you are still in contact with her."

Raising an eyebrow in question, she coolly replied, "Do you?"

"You've been found out, Maia," Severus declared, his voice saturated with reproach and disdain. "They know that you've been spying for the Order."

The blood turned to ice in her veins, but she continued to act aloof. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Snape," she denied firmly, her pretense of calm never slipping. "I am ever loyal…"

"Don't patronize me, Maia," he retorted harshly. "The Order has a traitor, one with a unique skillset that has allowed him to discover who you are. Once word reaches the Dark Lord, you're done."

Maia continued to meet his gaze without flinching, before gracefully rising to her feet. Snape recognized the danger to the messenger in the liquid way she moved, her actions reminding him strongly of a predator preparing to strike. Fingering her wand, she quietly asked, "Who else knows?"

"Dolohov, Avery, and Bellatrix."

Her eyes widened minutely. Inhaling deeply, she looked around the drawing room of the home she'd grown up in and released the air she held on a shaky breath. She'd always known that this was a possibility, and while she knew her word carried more weight than many others of the inner circle, she had no doubt that Bella's fanaticism for the Dark Lord and her eagerness to "dethrone" her rival would eventually lead to more substantial proof. She had been careful to hide her identity with the Order, but even she knew that no plan was perfect. "That's it then."

"You may have some time," Severus said, shifting from one foot to the other. "The Dark Lord is currently away and it will take them time to get an audience with him. I can help you get out, but you must do something for me first."

Maia looked at him once more and waited with rising impatience for him to speak. If what he said was true, her time was limited. He looked away in guilt, and her experience reading him as children gave her enough knowledge of his tells to ask, "What did you do, Severus?"

"What I was told," he stated bitterly. "Had I known…" He shuddered.

Trepidation rising at seeing her normally stoic former friend so emotional, she questioned, "Known what, exactly?"

He looked back at her in defiance. "I was instructed to spy on Dumbledore. He met with Sybill Trelawney, a descendent of Cassandra Trelawney, a few weeks back," Maia's eyebrows rose at the mention of the renowned Seer. "The woman was interviewing for the vacant post in Divination at Hogwarts. It was a load of rubbish, at least up until the end. Maia, she issued a prophecy…"

Any warmth that had come back to her fled with those words. Severus hurriedly continued, shame faced, "I was caught and thrown out. I returned to the Dark Lord with the news of the threat to him. It didn't take long before two were determined to fit the criteria…"

"Severus," Maia interrupted anxiously, taking a halting step forward, her hand clenched tightly around her wand. "Just what did you hear?"

Reciting from his perfect memory, Snape intoned, "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…"

Maia swayed on the spot as all the blood drained from her face. She lifted a shaking hand to her mouth as she whispered in horror, "Harry."

"It may not be him!" Snape decried. "It could be Longbottom's boy! It doesn't have to be hers!"

"Why are you telling me this?" Maia's brain was fast thinking of all the ways to secure Lily and her small family.

"She must be kept safe," Snape admitted quietly, his eyes downcast.

Her mind settled, and resolve set her shoulders back. "You say my cover is blown, so I need to leave, today. You are coming with me."

"I can't!" the dark wizard denied with rising panic. "He's promised that he won't hurt her…"

"If you believe him, then why are you coming to me now?" she debated, shredding his weak argument to pieces. "You will come with me and explain this to Dumbledore. If I can no longer serve in my role, you will have to do it for me. For Lily. He cannot be allowed to win."

Fear at what she was asking him to do chased its way across his face. He was shaking his head, looking at her as if she'd gone mad. Her blue eyes turned glacial and she raised her wand until it pointed steadily at his face. "You will do this, Severus, even if I must compel you to do it. If you want her to be safe, you will speak to Dumbledore."

Minutes passed as he gave in to internal debate and Maia became more anxious. She did not want to cast the Imperius on him, but she would do it if she must. If Bellatrix knew that she had defected (not that she had ever truly joined), she needed to leave immediately. She didn't trust that the older witch would wait for approval from the Dark Lord before seeking to apprehend her. "I don't have time to argue with you. Are you coming with me, or not?"

"Yes," he agreed with resignation, his lanky frame sagging slightly in defeat. "When do we leave?"

"Now," she said. With a swish her wand, she cast her Patronus, a sleek panther erupting from its tip. "Albus, I have urgent news. Meet me tonight at the oak by the Black Lake, midnight." She lowered the muffling charm and briskly walked out of the room, instructing Snape to wait for her. She walked to the second floor where her rooms were located and saw Narcissa entering the nursery, a sleepy Draco cradled against her shoulder.

"Is everything alright, Maia?" Narcissa inquired politely.

"I've been assigned a mission that will require me to go away for a while," she hastily explained. Her eyes softened as they looked down on her drowsy nephew. "I will be unable to communicate while I'm away."

"Is Lucius aware of this?" Narcissa asked, only slightly concerned. Though this did not seem like a routine assignment for the young witch, the Dark Lord was usually careful to ensure that she was kept from harm's way.

Maia shook her head, "No, he's not. Severus just brought the news to me. I must depart immediately." Looking at Draco, she realized that she didn't know when she would see him again. Reaching out to him, she pled, "May I?" Narcissa handed the boy over and Maia held him close to her chest, breathing deeply of his sweet smell and trying to hold back her tears. She whispered to him, "I'll see you soon, okay? Be good for your mummy and daddy."

She gave Narcissa a shaky smile as she handed the boy back to his mother. After giving her sister-in-law a quick hug of farewell, she disappeared into her suite to begin packing. Quick flicks of her wand had all of her essentials shrinking and flying into a beaded bag that she had altered with an Undetectable Expansion Charm, just in case she ever had to run. Within minutes, she was ready to go.

She Apparated back to the drawing room where Severus paced in agitation. Grabbing his arm to allow him to pass through the wards around the manor, she left behind the only home she'd ever known.

The meeting with Dumbledore had gone about as expected, with much distrust expressed on both sides. After a great degree of groveling on Severus's part and some Legilimency on Dumbledore's, the elder wizard agreed to take on the younger man as a spy for the Order in Maia's place. She, in turn, was given to the care of the McKinnon's, who had also been forced into hiding due to the actions undertaken by Marlene McKinnon on behalf of the Order. She took care to maintain her regimen of transfiguration and Polyjuice potion as an added precaution, assuming the slightly altered form of a bushy-haired Muggle girl that lived in a town not far from her safe house. She was not allowed contact with anyone outside the McKinnon family, much to Lily's dismay.

It was mid-September of 1981 when the Death Eaters located the McKinnon's and Maia. The family of blood traitors was wiped out and Maia barely managed to escape, fleeing to Hogwarts while her disguise still held. Dumbledore had stated that he would take care of it, take care of her. There were other ways to keep her safe, as he felt that there was still work for her to do. Maia watched in dread as the greatest wizard of the century lifted his wand against her. She had barely managed to throw up her Occlumency shields to protect her memories, fearing mere seconds before his spell hit that he intended to Obliviate and reassign her. Her last recollection was of his promise to bring her back once it was safe to do so.

The bastard lied.


First chapter done! What do you think? I'll admit, I had fun fleshing out a little backstory for Maia/Hermione. Although I'm sure that I'll be hinting at more of her history as the story continues, I'd be interested in writing a prequel or some one-shots if there was enough interest. Still early days, so let me know what you think as the story progresses.