A/N: Ok, people I hate to say, but this chapter won't have most of you in it. Please though, read it. It is really important in the plot of the whole story.

Love. Such a vile emotion. I had always thought the world of it until that Summer. I had always dreamed of that fateful day I'd fall in love. Sadly, I now loathe the day I fell in love. The day I met him. The Summer it all took place in. I swear. He will be my downfall. How tragic.

Hermione was lying in the dark, one or two candles lighting the bathroom and the moonlight streaming through the window. Hermione's eyes were closed and her face was thoughtful. The book in her hands was open and held up to her face, but she didn't even bother trying to read it. Instead so focused on the tingling feeling of her skin. Her thighs were red with blood and welds. Old scars opened again. Yes, Hermione had turned into quiet a tragic child. She had her reason for doing such vile things to herself though. Blood dripped into the water, the red turning pink then fading and disappearing completely. Hermione violently threw the book at the wall. Upon contact it made a loud thud. She was sure her parents had heard it, but it had been the very thought of her parents that had caused her sudden outburst to begin with. In the books flight it had knocked a candle to the ground. The carpet now aflame, Hermione rose calmly from the water.

'Why? Why me? Why did I, of all people, have to be adopted? Why had my 'parents' lied about me being their daughter for so long? Why didn't they just tell me?' Hermione though bitterly grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her petite body.

Her hair dripped down onto her legs, the water mixing with the blood pouring still from her cuts in small droplets. She stepped over the flame carefully and starred in the mirror. She held her head high. She already had a plan. She would run away and go to the plantation De Hope, her 'parents' had said that's where her real parents lived. All her 'parents' had told her about them was that they were wizards. She frowned at her reflection and walked carefully into her room. She should write to Harry and Ron. She knew she wouldn't have time though. Her parent's would come in soon to make sure she was ok. She sighed and pocketed two pieces of parchment and a quill to carry with her. She threw on and old shirt and a pair of jeans. Her hair was dripping wet and the blood on her legs were slowly drying though had seeped through her jeans. She pulled on a pair of trainers and bit her lip. What if her parents didn't want her. Why had they put her up for adoption? These were questions she'd have to just find out the hard way she decided and crept out of her room into the still darkness. She looked around, her parents were talking to themselves in their room. She slowly walked down the stairs and went into the living room she took some floo powder her 'parents' kept by the fireplace. She took a deep intake of breath, all was well, she was a Gryffindor after all, she could do this. She stepped into the fireplace and felt green flames engulf her. She yelled 'The De Hope Plantation' loud enough that she was sure her parents had heard. Although, it was too late, she was gone within the flame.

When Hermione stumbled out of the fireplace again it was incredibly bright. She was guessing it was morning wherever she was now. She looked around at the huge room she was currently in as she stood up. She brushed soot off her old clothes and sneezed softly. A small house elf ran up to her, she smiled in return.

"Hello miss, How can Mikle help you miss?" he asked, his voice squeaking.

"Um, It's lovely to meet you Mikle. My name's Hermione Gr-" she stopped. Was her last name Granger? "Are the owners of this house here? Are they busy? Do you think they would mind seeing me?" Hermione said all this quickly and nervously.

"Yes miss, They is here. I shall go see if they are busy miss." the house elf said with a little bow.

Hermione stood there nervously, pacing slightly. How stupid of her. What if they didn't want her here? What if they became angry at her for being here?

The small house elf returned. A women with beautiful dark brown hair and darkly tanned skin. Her chocolate eyes were only a little darker then Hermione's cinnamon ones and she could instantly tell that this women was her mother. The women looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Clearly she had no clue whom Hermione was.

"I'm sorry to show up without any notice. My name's Hermione Gr-" she stopped herself again, "Anyway, I just got into a fight with my guardians and they told me that my real parents lived here so-" she was cut short as the women started to speak.

"No need to explain hunny. Your father and myself are your parents, if you are whom you say you are. Now I'm sure you have many questions, but let me go ahead and explain the obvious questions you'll ask. First, you are aware your a witch correct?" She asked in very composed and calm voice.

Hermione nodded, "Yes, but until tonight, I always was told I was a muggle-born."

"Hog's wash. You are part of one the purest, wealthiest wizarding families that are still thriving." Her mother said in the matter-of-fact tone Hermione had perfected.

Hermione nodded. Her a pureblood...that was definitely something she hadn't expected.

"Anyway, your father was a faithful death eater to the Dark Lord." She paused looking sympathetic at Hermione's reaction.

Hermione's eyes had widened and she paled. Her father was a death eater! Could this get any worse?

"I know, it tis a horrid thing to represent and support someone as vile as Lord Voldermort, but your father sees differently."

Hermione nodded. At least her mother disliked You-Know-Who.

"As I was saying, your father was a death eater during Lord Voldermort's rein of power and when his downfall came your father and I had been tortured until the law on aurors had again been revised so everyone got a trial before being harmed. That when you were found by a muggle family. After we had been taken away from you. It wasn't that we didn't want or love you."

Hermione nodded again before speaking, "So would you mind terribly if I lived here with you?" she sounded hopeful, "My muggle guardians and I don't exactly get along."

"Of course not dear." Her mother replied with a smile. "We surely have enough room, and I would hate knowing you were with those filthy muggles."

Hermione squirmed, she had never thought of muggles as filthy and still the thought sounded too much like something the ferret would say. Obviously her parent's and her own view points were much different, but maybe she could get past that. She noticed her mother's gaze on her blood stained pants. She shifted her weight nervously.

"Well, your father is off on business, and it is only six in the morning. I'm sure you will want to get some sleep. I'll so you the rooms you can chose from to stay in." She said walking over to a spiral staircase. Just how big was this place? Hermione followed her mother up the stairs and over to two doors. Her mother opened the door to the first one. It was beautiful and done in powder blue and white. A canopy bed was in the center and a huge whitewashed vanity off to the left and lastly two dresser on the right. Although it was a pretty room Hermione didn't favor it she turned around to see her mother was already in the second room. Hermione gasped in awe as she enter the room.

The walls were simply white and the trim was a cherry colored oak wood. The four poster queen sized bed in the center of the room was elegant. It like the trim on the wall was made of a cherry tinted oak wood and the sheets were made of white silk the blanket a red velvet as was the canopy that hung at the top of the bed. Hermione smiled looking now at two large windows that stood right in front of the bed on the other side of the bed. There was a small oak vanity in the room along with a dresser and two doors that appeared to open into the closet. Although what caught Hermione's gaze was the giant bookshelf, stocked with tons of books she turned around to her mother and smiled, "I like this room."