So, here is the sequel to 'Secrets and Divine Diplomacy' If you haven't read that first one, this fic, won't make sense, at all. I'm still going over some of the smaller details on 'Secrets and Divine Diplomacy', but nothing, that has any consequences for the entirety of the story. I hope you will enjoy it, and let me know, what you think!

It was one of those nights. It was raining lightly, the kind of treacherous rain, that looks mild, but would soak you in minutes in reality.

An old man was walking down the street of a quiet, upper middle class suburban neighborhood. The strange thing about him, was that he wasn't getting wet at all.

He was wearing strange clothes, robes even, and a long, purple cloak. He had a long silver, pointed beard, and high heeled boots.

He was odd, even by the standard of the people he normally surrounded himself with. He could be called quirky or eccentric, but mostly benign. A man like him, could not have any friends. Only followers. It was a sacrifice he had to make, even if it wasn't a hard one. People trusted him, of course, but he could only trust them to a certain point. It was in their best interest, really.

This was only the first out of two stops he had to make that evening. He had received a tip on the location of an infant, which he had been looking for.

He walked through the small gate, and followed the path, through a charming garden, and up the small steps to the front door. Lights were pouring out of the windows.

He rang the doorbell, and waited patiently.

A tired looking middle-aged man, opened the door.

"Can I help you?"

"Ah, yes. I heard you recently adopted a small girl."

"Yes. Excuse me, sir, not to be rude, but what is it to you? I don't know you." The man said, carefully.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Granger. May I come in?"

Mr. Granger eyed the stranger with the suspicion, but opened the door up anyways, in a silent invitation.

"Thank you very much."

It wasn't until the older man was standing in the hall, the door closed behind him, that Mr. Granger noticed his strange clothing. He heard the old man mutter something that sounded like "Imperio", but he didn't have time to reflect upon it. He was washed over, with the most delightful feeling. He felt weightless, and without a care in the world.

"Now, Mr. Granger. Could you please show me the way to your wife?"

"Yes sir! Of course! This way" Mr. Granger led the stranger through the house to the living room, where his wife was sitting on the sofa, with their newly adopted daughter in her arms.

"Now, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. I'm terribly sorry, but this is for your own good." The stranger said gently

Mrs. Granger held her daughter closer, and looked panicked at her husband, who was standing next to the stranger, his eyes glazed.

"Wh-what are you going to do to us?" She stammered, her voice trembling, as she held her daughter even tighter.

"Oh, don't worry. It won't hurt a bit. I have done this many times before, after all." He smiled eerily at her.

Mrs. Granger wanted to escape this lunatic, but she had no exit. She was cornered.

"Obliviate" He whispered, erasing their minds. Instead he planted new, happy memories. Finding out she was pregnant, the long wait, giving birth. The camera, that was tragically lost. He left the small family sleeping on the sofa.

He was grateful, that the couple had no immediate family. That way, he didn't have to track down a hundred family members to alter more memories.

He went through the house, removing adoption papers, and looking for other traces, that the girl might not be theirs, entirely. He came to the nursery, where the wall was painted in light pastel colors, the name "Hermione", written in swirling letters on the wall. She could keep the name, he supposed. After all, not many knew it. Only Sirius, and he couldn't do much damage, from where he was going.

He would have to set up some wards, to warn him, if the mutt came, to track the girl down, before being captured.

…

For most of those, who hadn't been at Ogygia, everything had seemed rather anticlimactic.

It had been three weeks, since Apollo had delivered Nico, Hermione and Zeus, all unconscious. He had then gone to Olympus to take the throne in his father's place. No one had heard from him since.

Neither of the three had woken up yet, much to the frustration of everyone else.

Annabeth, with some magical help, had almost finished with her project – a new wing for the large house. It was necessary too. The guest wing, was completely full. Zeus had been locked in a room of his own. No one knew, what kind of condition he would be in, once he woke up, or to which extent he still had his powers. Apollo had been rather uninformative.

Will was still in a coma, in a room of the guest wing, and Draco, who was still looking for a cure, was staying in the room next to his. He was working day and night, except for Tuesdays and Thursdays, where he would disappear through the fireplace, for a couple of hours, only to return with a smile on his face, and a new surge of energy. There were bets going on, whether he had a girlfriend in England.

Harry had moved back to Grimmauld Place. He had told them, that he would keep them a secret for as long as he could. Problem was, that time was running out.

…

"I still don't get it." Ron said lowly, scrunching his eyebrows together.

"Not this again!" Harry rolled his eyes. He had invited his friend over for butterbeers. Since Ginny had gone to Quidditch practice, he figured they could relax a little, be more best friends again.

"No, it just doesn't make sense! You're telling me, that Hermione has some bloke on the side-"

"It's not on the side, when you're not together." Harry interjected.

"Whatever, mate. But you're telling me, that not only is she with some bloke, she is also staying there? Indefinitely?"

"Yes, Ron! She's really happy in America."

"So you say, but how come you're the only one who gets to visit her?"

"I can try to ask-"

"But more than that – what about her parents? Why would she just leave her parents? And for some bloke? I mean, aside from the fact that she's supposed to be with me – that just isn't like her!"

Harry sat, biting his lower lip. Regardless of everything else, he couldn't keep lying to his best friend.

He sighed heavily. "Ron, it's more than that. Hermione is – her parents aren't really her parents."

Ron looked like the personification of a question mark.

"Look, I didn't find out, until recently. Hermione is adopted. She apparently has a half-brother in America. Her mum was Marlene McKinnon."

Harry watched, as the words sunk in to his friend's skull, and the dawning understanding, that turned back into bewilderment.

"But then, who's the bloke? Is he the brother?"

Harry couldn't help, but chuckle.

"No. I've been told, he most definitely is not her brother. He's her boyfriend. They got together shortly after she went to America."

Ron looked crushed. Harry felt bad for hurting his friend's feelings, but in the end, giving him false hope was worse.

"Is that why she doesn't want to see me?" Ron whispered brokenly.

"No, mate, no. They, had some problems over there." Harry felt himself getting misty eyed. "It's not that she doesn't want to see you, it is, that she can't. It's extremely complicated, and I only understand half of it, but they needed her help. It was only her, that could do it, but something went wrong. Her and Nico, they saved the world, but something went wrong, and they haven't woken up since. That was three weeks ago." He finished, tears now dripping down his cheeks.

Ron stared at him, breaking even more. "She's been in a coma for three weeks, and you didn't tell me?" He hissed, his jaw tensing, giving away the feeling of betrayal.

"I didn't know what to tell you. It was all so complicated." Harry buried his head in his hands.

Ron sat back, nodding his head.

"I need to leave." He said, as he stood up.

"I'm sorry – "

"Stop, Harry. I need to think about this. I'll find you, when I'm ready, alright?"

Harry nodded, and Ron left, through the front door, much calmer than Harry had thought him capable of.

…

Her head was pounding. The mother of all migraines was dancing mambo in her head, and the curtains weren't closed properly. A small annoying sliver of light fell directly on her face. She supposed, that was the reason she woke up. Her mouth was dry and sticky, probably smelly too. There was a glass with water, standing on the bedside table. She tried to reach out for it, but all her limbs felt heavy and out of order. She only succeeded in knocking the glass over, making it shatter with a loud smash.

She heard footsteps moving towards the room she was in. She tried turning around, but found, that she couldn't, because of a warm body, still sleeping next to her.

The door opened, and a curly haired girl was standing in the opening.

"Hazel" Hermione tried to say, but it only came out as a broken whisper.

"Shhh, Hermione." Hazel mumbled, as she hurried to Hermione's side, to check on her. "I've got you."

Hermione nodded dumbly. She cast a glance in Nico's direction, in a silent question for his status.

Hazel shook her head. "Not yet. But I think he will wake up soon." She told her with a gentle smile. "Now, you rest a little more, and I will prepare some nectar for you, for the next time you wake up.

Hermione wanted to protest, but her eyes were already closing, without permission.

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