Hey guys, I'm glad ya'll liked it so far. Thank you to everyone who followed, favourited or commented, it means a lot to me to know that my work is appreciated. If you have any ideas you'd like included please feel free to dm me or comment :) Also I noticed some confusion I don't know if people read it wrong but I had the initials in the letter as RB not SB

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I can't claim Harry Potter, dammit...

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Hermione POV

"Why are you here exactly Professor?"

"hmm, yes I suppose you would like to know"

That's why I asked! Is what I wanted to say, instead "What's happening to me? Why do I look different? Is this accidental magic? Who are my parents?" seemed to spew from my mouth like word vomit.

He looked at me with amusement shining in his eyes, "You see Ms Granger, 16 years ago, on this very day you were born." He said completely ignoring my previous questions.

"No, my birthdays the 19th"

"It was, now it isn't." I really do admire this man but I wish he'd just speak like a normal person!

"So I was born today? On the 25?"

"May I continue?" He said with one eyebrow raised, he must of gotten it from Professor Snape.

"Yes, sorry, go on."

"You were born to Marlene McKinnon and Regulus Black—"

"Black!?"

"I'm afraid so my dear. He was Sirius' younger brother as a matter of fact."

It occurred to me that this was the first time I had ever seen the Professor with anything other than happiness twinkling in his eyes, instead they looked... sad... oh.

"When you were born, there were certain complications. Your mother, I'm afraid, didn't make it." He said regretfully. "We told everyone that you too didn't make it. The very same year you were born Regulus was murdered by the same man he pledged his loyalty to, Voldemort. Not only would you have been ridiculed, but the Blacks.. well. They would have taken you. You were a black and they are fearlessly loyal to their family."

"Why was I taken then? Surely I would've been safe with the most powerful and influential family in Britain." It didn't make any sense.

"It was Regulus who came to me. Your father was young, barely sixteen when he joined Voldemort's ranks. One day, Voldemort asked Regulus for the use of his house-elf, Kreacher and Regulus eagerly accepted as he wanted to please his master. Voldemort used Kreacher to test new spells, leaving him to die afterwards. Kreature managed to get back to Regulus and told him what happened. This was the deciding factor in Regulus' defection. He was never able to tell me what he went after, I'm assuming he was placed under unbreakable vow by Voldemort. He said he needed to destroy something, initially he wanted you placed in Sirius' care but as you know Sirius was falsely accused and imprisoned. I planned for your adoption, he didn't want you being influenced by his family like he was, he only wanted what was best for you. He died heroically trying to stop Voldemort."

"So I was hidden away, told lies my whole life?" I said miserably

"Believe me Ms Granger, it was the only way. I don't know what was in that letter but I assume you know about the memory enchantment placed on your adoptive parents?"

This time he addressed the other two people present, my.. parents?

"Yes, I understand. The secrecy was fool proof the only people that knew of the truth were either dead, imprisoned or you.."

"It was necessary to protect you, although you've made it rather hard. Since befriending young Mr. Potter." He said with mirth.

"Professor... did he know?"

"By he I assume you mean Sirius? He knew you were adopted but not of who you became."

"The glamour?" I said to change the direction the conversation was heading.

"Was placed on you before you were put into the Granger's care, it was a modified version of a normal glamor charm. I made it myself, the enchantment allows the user to choose the bloodline they want to appear as."

"How did it last so long?" I questioned.

"The birthmark on your back, is not a birthmark. It stores the magic in your body so that no-one without knowledge of it could ever break the spell. However when a witch turns sixteen there is a certain influx of magic to their system, this was the only thing that could have broken the spell."

"So this is my true appearance?"

"Indeed, now I think it's time we went on our way."

"Already? But there's so much more I need to know!"

"Ms Granger, I am sure your keen mind can find all there answers you need if you just look."

So I am left to find all the answers myself, typical. I mentally eye rolled.

"You're going to Grimmauld Place?"

"The burrow actually, you see the situation is fraught with complications. We do not know whether the enchantments we ourselves have placed upon it, for example, making it Unplottable, will hold now that ownership has passed from Sirius's hands. It might be that Bellatrix will arrive on the doorstep at any moment. Naturally we had to move out until such time as we have clarified the position."

"But how are you going to find out if its safe?"

"Young Mr Potter will have to be tested. It was he whom Sirius left everything to." He explained "Now I think we should take our leave."

"Wait! Could you... cast another less permanent glamour on me. I just want to break the news lightly to everyone else." I think turning up with black hair and blue eyes, looking nothing like myself might come as a shock.

He looked at me sadly, "Yes I suppose I can. But you can't hide forever" With a flourish of his wand I felt another tingle run down my spine.

I rushed to the mirror and looking back at me was the familiar Hermione Granger I knew. I turned back towards my parents who looked miserable.

"We're so sorry Herm—" My mother trailed off.

"I want to you guys to know that family isn't defined by last names or blood. Its defined by commitment and love. You were there to look after me, You were there to change all my nappies, to love me, to nurture me, to parent me! I don't care what Dumbledore says biological or not you are my parents."

They both looked at me with tears shining in there eyes. "Thank you darling, we love you so so much and that will never ever change."

Her mother rushed forward and enveloped her in a tight hug. They were soon joined my her father who wrapped his arms around both of them.

"I love you" I whispered.

"Okay I'm ready."

"Until we meet again," he said to my parents.

I hastily followed Dumbledore, who paused beside my trunk, upon which Crookshanks cage was perched.

"We do not want to be encumbered by these just now," he said, pulling out his wand again. "I shall send them to the Burrow to await us there."

Dumbledore waved his wand and the trunk, cage, and Crookshanks vanished. Dumbledore then waved his wand again, and the front door opened onto cool, misty darkness.

"And now, Elara, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure."

"Hermione please, I don't think I'm ready to be someone else."

"But this is who you have always been."

He came to an abrupt halt at the end of the driveway.

"You have not, of course, passed your Apparition Test," he said.

"No," I said.

"So you will need to hold on to my arm very tightly."

I gripped Dumbledore's proffered forearm.

"Very good," said Dumbledore. "Well, here we go."

I felt Dumbledore's arm twist away from him and redoubled my grip; the next thing I knew, everything went black; I was being pressed very hard from all directions; I could not breathe, there were iron bands tightening around my chest; my eye- balls were being forced back into my head; my eardrums were being pushed deeper into my skull and then I gulped great lungfuls of cold night air and opened my streaming eyes. I felt as though I had just been forced through a very tight rubber tube. It was a few seconds before I realized that my street had vanished. Dumbledore and I were now standing in what appeared to be a country lane and looking ahead to the crooked silhouette of one of my favorite buildings in the world: the Burrow.

...

No ones POV

Hermione and Dumbledore approached the back door of the Burrow, which was surrounded by the familiar litter of old Wellington boots and rusty cauldrons; Hermione could hear the soft clucking of sleepy chickens coming from a distant shed. Dumbledore knocked three times and Hermione saw sudden movement behind the kitchen window.

"Who's there?" said a nervous voice she recognised as Mrs. Weasley's. "Declare yourself!"

"It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Hermione."

The door opened at once. There stood Mrs. Weasley, short, plump, and wearing an old green dressing gown.

"Hermione, dear! Gracious, Albus, you gave me a fright, you said not to expect you before morning!"

"We were lucky," said Dumbledore, ushering Hermione over the threshold.

Hermione looked around and saw that Mrs. Weasley was not alone, despite the lateness of the hour. A young witch with a pale, heart- shaped face and mousy brown hair was sitting at the table clutching a large mug between her hands.

"Hello, Professor," she said. "Wotcher, Hermione."

"Hi, Tonks." Hermione said cheerily

"I'd better be off," she said quickly, standing up and pulling her cloak around her shoulders. "Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Molly."

She quickly rushed out the front door and a moment later we heard the pop of apparition.

"I too should be taking my leave, until next time Molly, Hermione." And then he too disappeared with a pop.

"Are you hungry, Dear?" Mrs Weasley asked

"Yeah, I am," said Hermione, suddenly realizing just how hungry she was.

"Sit down, dear, I'll knock something up."

She tapped the pot; it rose into the air, flew toward Hermione, and tipped over; Mrs. Weasley slid a bowl neatly beneath it just in time to catch the stream of thick, steaming onion soup.

"Bread, dear?"

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."

She waved her wand over her shoulder; a loaf of bread and a knife soared gracefully onto the table; as the loaf sliced itself and the soup pot dropped back onto the stove, Mrs. Weasley sat down opposite her.

"So did you have a good break?"

Hermione nodded, her mouth so full of hot soup that she could not speak.

"Mrs Weasley, if I told you something really important could you keep it a secret?" She needed to tell someone eventually every would know but she was trying to delay the inevitable.

"Of course dear."

And so she told her, the whole story. Mrs Weasley's facial expression started out intrigued then switched to shock and finally sympathy as my tale went on.

"Oh you poor thing, you don't look like them, but perhaps thats a blessing in these dark times."

"It was a glamour charm Professor Dumbledore cast when I was put into my parents care." Hermione explained, Mrs Weasley looked thoroughly intrigued.

"Oh?"

"I'm so confused, I don't know what to feel. I along with everyone was distraught by Sirius' passing but now because he's my uncle I feel almost like a fraud for not being inconsolable."

Mrs Weasley looked at Hermione with a sympathetic expression, "Now dear, you've done nothing wrong. Sirius' death was a horrible thing but you are not responsible nor do you have to feel a certain way."

"I just feel guilty, he was so lonely and I…" her voice broke trying to hold back the tears welling in my eyes. Mrs Weasley pulled Hermione into her and rubbed her back consolingly while Hermione sobbed into her.

Eventually her tears dried and she was suddenly aware of how ridiculously tired I was. She bade Mrs. Weasley good night, put on pajamas, and got into the second bed in Ginny's bedroom.

She was woken in the morning by loud thumping footsteps coming down the hall. Suddenly her door was slammed open and there stood her longtime friends Harry and Ron.

"All right?" Ron asked

"Never been better," said Hermione, rubbing the top of her head and slumping back onto his pillows. "You?"

"Not bad," said Ron, pulling over a cardboard box and sitting on it. "When did you get here? Mum's only just told us!"

"About one o'clock this morning, did I miss breakfast?" asked Hermione.

"Don't worry about that, Mum's bringing you up a tray; she reckons you look underfed," said Ron, rolling his eyes. "So, what's been going on?"

"Nothing much.." Hermione answered

"Come off it!" said Ron. "You've been off with Dumbledore!"

"Honestly Ronald he just escorted me here." Hermione said rolling her eyes

Mrs Weasley the entered the room with her breakfast. "Here you go dear, eat up" she said warmly as she left.

"Dumbledore's giving me private lessons now, I don't know exactly why he's going to be giving me lessons, but I think it must be because of the prophecy." Harry said

Neither Ron nor Hermione spoke. Harry had the impression that both had frozen. He continued, still speaking to his fork, "You know, the one they were trying to steal at the Ministry."

"Nobody knows what it said, though," said Hermione quickly. "It got smashed."

"Although the Prophet says —" began Ron, but Hermione said, "Shh!"

"The Prophet's got it right," said Harry, looking up at them both with a great effort: Hermione seemed frightened and Ron amazed. "That glass ball that smashed wasn't the only record of the prophecy. I heard the whole thing in Dumbledore's office, he was the one the prophecy was made to, so he could tell me. From what it said," Harry took a deep breath, "it looks like I'm the one who's got to finish off Voldemort. . . . At least, it said neither of us could live while the other survives."

The three of them gazed at one another in silence for a moment.

"We wondered, after we got back from the Ministry . . . Obviously, we didn't want to say anything to you, but from what Lucius Malfoy said about the prophecy, how it was about you and Voldemort, well, we thought it might be something like this. . . . Oh, Harry . . ." She stared at him, then whispered, "Are you scared?"

"Not as much as I was," said Harry. "When I first heard it, I was . . . but now, it seems as though I always knew I'd have to face him in the end. . . ."

"He wouldn't be giving you lessons if he thought you were a goner, wouldn't waste his time — he must think you've got a chance!" Ron added eagerly.

"That's true," said Hermione. "I wonder what he'll teach you, Harry? Really advanced defensive magic, probably . . . powerful countercurses . . . anti-jinxes . . ."

...

It would have been a happy, peaceful holiday had it not been for the stories of disappearances, odd accidents, even of deaths now appearing almost daily in the Prophet.

To Mrs. Weasley's displeasure, Harry's sixteenth birthday celebrations were marred by grisly tidings brought to the party by Remus Lupin, who was looking gaunt and grim, his brown hair streaked liberally with gray, his clothes more ragged and patched than ever.

"There have been another couple of dementor attacks," he announced, as Mrs. Weasley passed him a large slice of birthday cake. "And they've found Igor Karkaroff's body in a shack up north. The Dark Mark had been set over it — well, frankly, I'm surprised he stayed alive for even a year after deserting the Death Eaters; Sirius's brother, Regulus, only managed a few days as far as I can remember."

"Yes, well," said Mrs. Weasley, frowning, "perhaps we should talk about something diff —"

Hermione ears pricked up "Regulus?"

Remus looked at Hermione strangely "Yes, why?"

"No reason" Hermione deflected.

He seemed slightly suspicious of her answer but continued "Molly, Dumbledore's asked for an order meeting to be held here in about an hour."

Mrs Weasley begrudgingly agreed and then addressed the kids "Okay off you go, make yourselves scarce."

"Actually Molly he specifically asked for them to be present."

Mrs Weasley looked positively outraged "I will not —"

"Molly," Arthur interrupted, "I think Dumbledores right. They need to know what's happening. Harry especially" his last words whispered quietly.

Mrs Weasley still looked thoroughly put out but eventually gave in.

...

Once the order was assembled Dumbledore addressed the usual issues, being the disappearances and murders before moving onto the debacle that was Grimmauld Place.

"Sirius's will was discovered a week ago and he left Harry everything he owned."

Harry did not look at him, nor could he think of anything to say except, "Oh. Right."

"This is, in the main, fairly straightforward," Dumbledore went on. "You add a reasonable amount of gold to your account at Gringotts, and you inherit all of Sirius's personal possessions. The slightly problematic part of the legacy being that Sirius also left Harry number twelve, Grimmauld Place."

"You can keep using it as headquarters," said Harry. "I don't care. You can have it, I don't really want it." Harry never wanted to set foot in number twelve, Grimmauld Place again if he could help it. He thought he would be haunted forever by the memory of Sirius prowling its dark musty rooms alone, imprisoned within the place he had wanted so desperately to leave.

"That is generous," said Dumbledore. "We have, however, vacated the building temporarily."

"Why?"

"Well," said Dumbledore, "Black family tradition decreed that the house was handed down the direct line, to the next male with the name of 'Black.' Sirius was the very last of the line as his younger brother, Regulus, predeceased him. While his will makes it perfectly plain that he wants you to have the house, it is nevertheless possible that some spell or enchantment has been set upon the place to ensure that it cannot be owned by anyone other than Black or pureblood."

"And if such an enchantment exists, then the ownership of the house is most likely to pass to the eldest of Sirius's living relatives, which would mean his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange."

Without realizing what he was doing, Harry sprang to his feet. Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius's killer, inherit his house?

"No," he said.

"Well, obviously we would prefer that she didn't get it either," said Dumbledore calmly

"Fortunately," said Dumbledore, "there is a simple test."

"You see, if you have indeed inherited the house, you have also inherited —"

He flicked his wand. There was a loud crack, and a house-elf appeared, with a snout for a nose, giant bat's ears, and enormous bloodshot eyes, crouching on the floor and covered in grimy rags.

"Kreacher," finished Dumbledore.

"Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't!" croaked the house-elf stamping his long, gnarled feet and pulling his ears.

"Kreacher belongs to Miss Bella- trix, oh yes, Kreacher belongs to the Blacks, Kreacher wants his new mistress, Kreacher won't go to the Potter brat, Kreacher won't, won't —"

"As you can see, Harry," said Dumbledore loudly, over Kreacher's continued croaks of "won't, won't, won't," "Kreacher is showing a certain reluctance to pass into your ownership."

"I don't care," said Harry again, looking with disgust at the writhing, stamping house-elf. "I don't want him."

"Won't, won't, won't, won't —"

"You would prefer him to pass into the ownership of Bellatrix Lestrange? Bearing in mind that he has lived at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix for the past year?"

"Won't, won't, won't, won't —"

Harry stared at Dumbledore. He knew that Kreacher could not be permitted to go and live with Bellatrix Lestrange, but the idea of owning him, of having responsibility for the creature that had betrayed Sirius, was repugnant

"Give him an order," said Dumbledore. "If he has passed into your ownership, he will have to obey. If not, then we shall have to think of some other means of keeping him from his rightful mistress."

"Won't, won't, won't, WON'T !"

Kreacher's voice had risen to a scream. Harry could think of nothing to say, except, "Kreacher, shut up!"

But Kreacher didn't stop, Dumbledore seemed genuinely shocked. It was then Hermione and Dumbledore realised what had happened. Although Sirius had legally left everything to Harry the Black's house magic had effectively overridden his will giving the next black in line all rights to Kreature. His successor being… Hermione. Kreacher's croaks continued to sound in the room and so with Dumbledores eyes on her Hermione yelled.

"Kreature! Be quiet!" And he stopped.

It looked for a moment as though Kreacher was going to choke. He grabbed his throat, his mouth still working furiously, his eyes bulging. After a few seconds of frantic gulping, he threw himself face forward onto the carpet and beat the floor with his hands and feet, giving himself over to a violent, but entirely silent, tantrum.

"Well, that simplifies matters," said Dumbledore cheerfully. Him being the only cheerful one, all the other order members were effectively stunned into a shocked silence. "Hermione?" Ron broke the silence "How.."

"Well... you see... I"

"Hermione dear, they need to know." Mrs Weasley chimed in.

"I haven't been completely honest with all of you.. You see I found out a few days ago that I was adopted." She didn't know how to continue she couldn't just drop a bomb on them but how else was she supposed to tell them?

"That still doesn't explain why a Black family elf obeyed a muggleborn." Moody muttered gruffly.

"Thats because I'm not a muggleborn... Regulus Black was my father."

No one said a word. After a second shocked silence the twins started to laugh "Good one Hermione, you almost had us going there."

She nodded towards Dumbledore who waved his wand and the temporary glamour placed on her fell away. Leaving her with Ebony curls and blue eyes.

"Holy—"

"Ronald!" Mrs Weasley scolded.

She surveyed all the faces in front of me, most members looked shocked and very alarmed. However the only reaction she didn't expect was coming from Harry. He looked at her betrayed as if she'd stolen something precious from him.. well she had. Sirius had effectively been his father while he was alive, Grimmauld Place was his house.

"Harry.."

"I don't want to hear it Hermione!"

"Please! I didn't want this!" Hermione yelled at his retreating back

...

Thanks for waiting for the next chapter. Hope you all like it :)