A/N: Just to warn everyone this story will have both slash and het relationships featured prominently. If you don't like that please don't read. Also, this story is highly AU (obviously, lol) and there will be a lot of OOC as a result.
Disclaimer: I do not own any aspect of this story other than the plot. The characters and setting and whatnot all come from the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling.
Hermione sighed as she walked down the steps from the girl's dormitory into the common room. Harry and Ron were already seated in front of the fire, playing a game of wizard's chess.
As she made her way over to them, Ron looked up, fixing her with a bright smile. "Oi, 'Mione! Better get over here and help Harry, he's about to lose big time!" Ron grinned wickedly, and Hermione smiled back.
"I'd help him out, but why bother? He's already lost to you about a million times, one more won't hurt." Hermione smirked at Harry, who was busy pouting at her.
"I'm not that bad Hermione… Ron's just great at chess! How am I supposed to beat that!" Harry's face was still locked in a pout, but Hermione could see the laughter in his eyes.
"What do you guys say about skipping the rest of the game, after all the end is a foregone conclusion, and going down for breakfast? I want to get to the library before class today."
Harry and Ron exchanged looks that said 'when do you ever not want to go to the library' but they both nodded and stood up. Harry raised his arms over his head, stretching in a cat-like manner.
"Ow!" He cried, doubling over and sinking to the floor. Hermione rushed over to him, careful not to touch him in any way.
"What is it Harry?" she asked in a concerned whisper, trying not to attract the attention of the other students in the common room. "Do you think… is it your mate? Or your scar?… is it Voldemort?"
Harry seemed to be trying to get the pain under control, taking deep breaths. "Its my mate, I think. I… I think that they may be turning 16 soon, maybe in a day or two. I can feel my wings wanting to come out, and all the research I've done says that that won't happen until my mate is of the age to bond."
Hermione looked thoughtful for a minute. "Oh my, Harry my birthday is in two days… you don't think…" Hermione trailed off as Ron began sputtering.
"But… but Hermione there's no way you're Harry's mate! We'd know by now wouldn't we?" Ron's face was a deep shade of red. Hermione sighed inwardly. She knew that Ron liked her, but she just didn't feel the same way. There was something missing from the equation. She wasn't sure what it was, but she knew that it was important, and that Ron was just not… it.
Harry shook his head. "It's not you Hermione… though, now that I think of it, its someone who smells somewhat like you." Harry's voice was quiet, and Hermione knew she hadn't been really meant to hear that. She was confused by his words though, as only people who were related smelled similar. Her normally inquisitive nature would have prompted her to ask more questions, but as she began she heard Harry continuing, "I'm glad who ever it is is turning 16 soon though, the bloody Sanguine Season is starting in a month… I really don't want to find out what its like to go through a vampire's mating season without a mate." Harry shuddered at the thought. "I'm still worried though… What if they say no? I don't know what I'd do then. I don't even know them and I already bloody love them! Its all so ridiculous!"
Hermione reached out towards Harry, and deeming that the pain was gone and it would be safe to touch him, she began rubbing his arm. Harry sighed, and stood up.
"Thanks 'Mione, I needed that. But we all better get to breakfast or our little bookworm here will miss her first fix of the day!" Laughing, Harry ran out of the common room, Hermione and Ron right behind him, giggling at their friend's antics.
As they reached the Gryffindor table, the trio were slightly out of breath from running and laughing at the same time. Hermione knew they must have looked pretty silly to the younger students, after all weren't 6th years supposed to look more dignified? Shaking her head, she mentally resigned herself to the fact that now that Voldemort was gone, Harry needed to relive a few parts of the childhood that he had missed out on. It really was too bad that he had the problem of being a natural born vampire and thus needing a mate to deal with. It would be hard for him to remain with any semblance of being a child when he had to bond with someone… and not in a friendship sense.
Hermione let her thoughts wander, vaguely hearing Harry and Ron discussing the Quidditch match that would be held in two weeks time. She couldn't help but turn her thoughts to the night that Harry had finally defeated Voldemort.
It had been over the summer, right before they began 6th year, and she and Harry had gone to stay at the Weasley's. Afterwards, Harry had joked that Voldemort had lost because he broke the pattern that they had been following since Harry was eleven. Voldemort was supposed to wait until the end of the school year to attack, then Harry would escape with only his life, and Dumbledore would explain as vaguely as possible what had actually happened.
Instead, Voldemort had attacked the Burrow, not realizing that every member of the Order of the Phoenix had gathered there for an end of the summer party. Harry had very recently come into his inheritance as a vampire, and with that his natural magic potential had increased. Voldemort had stood before them with every intention of killing Harry, but Harry had dodged every curse thrown his way with preternatural speed. He had remained on the defensive for a while, but once Voldemort sent out a killing curse that missed Harry and hit a very unlucky Moody, who had just finished off another Death Eater, Harry had become enraged.
In fact, that was the first time that Hermione had every seen a vampire enter Blood Rage. Harry had just seen one of his friends murdered, and the vampire in him had completely taken over. His eyes had become a dark, blood red and his hair had stood on end, as if charged by electricity. Harry began rapidly firing curses. Voldemort, however, did not have the added bonus of being a vampire, and each curse had hit him, making him slightly weaker. First a slashing hex, then a crucio, and finally the killing curse. Voldemort had screamed in agony before falling to the floor writhing. Harry, eyes still red, had stood over him and cast the incendio curse, burning up Voldemort's body till only a pile of ash remained.
Hermione had looked around the room. She was not the only starring at Harry. The Death Eaters had either run, or were lying dead or bound on the floor. She had noticed with a slight pang of regret that Lucius Malfoy was not among them, but hey, who was she to complain? Voldemort was finally gone.
Harry had fallen to the floor as the Blood Rage left him, and had remained in a coma for a week and a half, effectively missing the first week of school. But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.
Hermione started, hearing a voice calling to her. "Cyrna! Cyrna!" She glanced around the room, but didn't see anyone. And why had that voice called her Cyrna? For that matter, why was she so certain that the voice was calling to her? She heard the voice again, this time louder and more insistent, and Hermione lost the ability to move. Pain engulfed her body as a bright golden glow surrounded her. Distantly she hear Harry and Ron calling out to her, asking what was wrong but she couldn't answer. All she felt was pain, and as she finally succumbed and made her way into unconsciousness she heard a voice whisper, "Cyrna Elizabetha Malfoy".
The hall was in an uproar. Harry and Ron stared helplessly as their friend began to fall backwards. Thankfully, Harry had the presence of mind to reach out and grab Hermione before she hit the floor, and as he lowered her to the ground he looked carefully at his friend.
Hermione was different. Her once bushy brown hair was now long and blond, falling all the way down her back. Her skin as a delicate cream color, and her face was thinner, more delicate.
Looking up in confusion he realized that Dumbledore had made his way over to them, Snape was surprisingly at his side. "Ms. Granger?" the headmaster called gently.
Snape glanced at the girl on the floor and then over at the Slytherin table, where his godson Draco was sitting. Smirking, Snape replied, "I don't think you can call her that anymore Albus."