Author's note: This is my first fanfic ever, and I was so excited when I posted the first chapter yesterday that I completely forgot to write a note! So, thank you all for giving my story and special thanks to those who reviewed, followed or favoured it. You guys made my day!

Important: The story starts right after the events of "The Order of Phoenix", and is canon up to that point except for one important detail. The Death Eaters did not reveal their identities in the cemetery or the Ministry! So Nott and Malfoy may or may not be Death Eaters, but it remains to be seen.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not even close.

Harry choked on his tea when he saw that morning's Prophet, spilling the beverage all over his aunt Petunia's pristine white tablecloth. He ran to his bedroom, ignoring the Dursley's furious yells at him to come back and clean it up. He threw his belongings in his trunk as fast as could withoumagic, thanking Merlin that he had been too depressed and lazy the past few days to properly unpack. Once everything was ready he stuck his wand in his back pocket -ignoring Moody's voice in his head that was warning him about the danger to his buttocks- and threw the door open, hitting his uncle Vernon, who had come upstairs to yell at him without straining his vocal cords, in the face. He left him there, clutching his nose and shouting obscenities at him, and ran down the stairs, past his speechless aunt and still-eating cousin, and out the door.

He couldn't help attracting curious stares from the neighbours as he ran with a heavy trunk in one hand and a snowy white owl in the other. However, they had all heard the stories about the Dursley's weird and possibly mentally ill nephew, so their interest soon faded. In any case, the past year Harry had had to get used to being rudely stared at, and could ignore it for the most part. This time, he was so preoccupied in his thoughts he didn't even notice. When he finally reached his destination, he pounded his fists on the door of the little house with enough force to make it creak ominously. After only a few moments, an old lady opened the door and let him in without question. The inside of the house reeked of spoilt cabbage and cat's piss. One of the little felines even rubbed its head on his leg as Harry tried to catch his breath. The old lady looked at him for a bit and then finally opened hr mouth.

"Is something wrong Harry? Has there been another attack?"

"No, not another attack.", answered Harry, still a little breathless. "But yes, something is very wrong." The boy looked her in the eye, and in a tone that made it clear he wouldn't take no for an answer, he said.

"Mrs Figg, I must speak to the headmaster. At once."

Mrs Figg made no argument, but simply stared at him and nodded, slowly. She went and picked up an ugly vase with floral patterns and got some floo powder. She then threw the powder in her fireplace and said clearly.

"Albus Dumbledoor!"

They waited for a few minutes, Harry fidgeting in his seat, and then the bearded head of his headmaster finally appeared. Harry couldn't help feeling a little resentment towards his old idol, as their last discussion after the "incident" in the Department of Mysteries had resulted in Harry destroying several of the artifacts in the professor's office. Harry did not take kindly to being lied to, and while Dumbledoor hadn't exactly lied, he hadn't exactly been honest with him either. A prophecy concerning both him and his parents' murderer was anything but a small matter, and the headmaster had kept him in the dark. However, for the sake of his best friend, he tried not to let his resentment show, and kept his expression as calm as he could.

Dumbledoor seemed alarmed at being floo-called by Mrs Figg, and immediately asked.

"What happened? Is Harry safe?", at these words, Harry stepped in front of the fireplace, so as to be seen by the frantic headmaster, who relaxed visibly at his presence.

"I am perfectly safe, professor. But I need to see Hermione right now."

Dumbledoor seemed to age before his eyes. He sighed and said quietly.

"I take it you read this morning's Prophet."

"Me and all of wizarding Britain, professor.", Harry couldn't keep the sarcasm from leaking into his voice. "Is there any truth in it or is it one of Skeeter's fabrications?"

"I am very much afraid that there probably is more than a little truth in it, my boy. There are charms that conceal one's magical signature, and the aurors found that the Grangers have indeed been obliviated. I will take Ms... Hermione to Gringotts this morning myself. The goblins have ways of determining a wizard's lineage."

"You mean that you don't know for certain yet? That Hermione herself doesn't know for certain? Then how did Skeeter find that information if it hasn't even been confirmed yet?"

Dumbledoor's gaze was steely.

"I am not sure yet, my boy. But there will be repercussions. I assure you of that. But for now, you need to return to your relatives where you are safe, so I can escort Ms... Hermione to-",

Harry didn't let him finish his sentence.

"I am not going back. I wish to come with you."

"My boy, I understand that you want to support your friend but surely-"

"Surely I am just as safe with you as I am with the Dursleys, professor. I will not be left behind just to be safe again while my friends need me. People don't like being left behind, I thought Sirius taught you at least that."

The headmaster paled at these words. He looked at the boy said, defeated.

"Very well. You may accompany us at Gringotts and then both you ad Ms... Hermione can stay at the Burrow for the rest of the summer. Do you need to pack?"

"I already have, professor."

"Good. A last word of caution, Harry?"

"Sir?"

"Both the Nott and the Malfoy families have long been associated with dark magic, and sided with Voldemort during the war. They claimed, of course, that they had been imperiused and did not truly support him but there is a strong possibility that they did and still do."

"And there is a possibility that they do not support him. Given that the Death Eaters were wearing their masks and hoods both at the cemetery and the Ministry we cannot know for sure, professor. And even if they are supporters of Voldemort, you don't really expect me to abandon Hermione, do you? She cannot choose who she is related to. Can we go now? Perhaps she hasn't read the Prophet yet, and I'd rather she hears the news from you than Rita Skeeter, of all people."

"Fair enough, my boy.", sighed Dumbledoor. "Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs Figg. We shall relieve you of our presence now. Come, Harry."

The headmaster's head disappeared from the fireplace, and Harry followed after a quick goodbye to Mrs Figg. Now alone with her precious cats, she sat in an armchair and murmured to herself.

"Perhaps I should start reading the newspaper after all. I never knew there was such juicy gossip nowadays."

ooOOoo

The Burrow's inhabitants were known to be loud, sometimes even to the point of being obnoxious. So when Ronald Weasley entered the kitchen that morning and found his parents and brothers talking in whispers over the newspaper that morning, he knew that something was up.

"What happened?", he asked hesitantly.

They literally jumped at his voice.

"Don't speak so loudly, Ronald.", hissed his mother.

"But I wasn't speaking-", his father interrupted his weak protest.

"Are the girls still asleep?"

"Yeah, I think so, why do you-", George shoved the Prophet under his nose.

"Read it."

"Why what's goin' on?"

"Just read it Ron!", Fred was obviously not very patient at the moment.

After glancing at his family, Ron skimmed the article. His hands were shaking when he was finished.

"Dad, you work at the Ministry. Is it-"

"Not sure yet.", at his youngest son's insistent gaze he continued. "But I'm afraid it's most likely true. The aurors really did find a memory charm on her parents-"

"Thank goodness the poor girl was already here and didn't see that.", sighed Mrs Weasley.

Her husband nodded emphatically. "I'm afraid she will have to be subjected to a blood test by the goblins though, to confirm her identity. Albus sent note that he will come and escort her himself."

"Will he be the one to tell her?", asked Bill.

"Tell what to whom?"

All heads turned as one to the kitchen door. There, flanked by Ginny and Fleur, her hair wild from sleep, clad only in her nightgown and a robe, stood Hermione.

ooOOoo

"Mother?"

Draco Malfoy stood awkwardly in his mother's private rooms, unsure whether she would want to see him or not. She raised her eyes from the letter she was writing and met those of her only child. Seeing the concerned expression on his face, she gave him a slight smile.

"Are you upset, love?"

"Aren't you, Mother?"

Narcissa's smile turned bitter.

"Upset is not an appropriate word to describe my sentiments at the moments, darling. But please do not worry about me. If you must worry about someone, worry about your poor father."

Despite being taken aback, Draco only raised a single eyebrow, the rest of his face carefully blank.

"And why would I worry about him, Mother? Have you forgiven him so quickly as to care about his welfare?"

"Do not insult me, Draco.", snapped Narcissa. "I may be a Malfoy now, but I descend from the mighty house of Black. We do not take well to being slighted."

"Do you have something in mind?", asked Draco carefully.

"You make it sound like I'm plotting, darling.", smirked Narcissa.

"Aren't you?"

"Of course not. Revenge is such a petty, plebeian thing. No, what I have in mind, as you so eloquently put it, is to have your father face the consequences of his actions."

"And what would your noble plan entail?"

"Why, that poor girl is now all alone in the world. Someone must take care of her, give her a home. She's your age isn't she? She still needs a guardian."

Draco's poker face slipped away at these words. He looked petrified.

"Mother, surely you cannot mean to have her recognised as a Malfoy...publicly?"

"Can't I? Why not? She is a Malfoy, after all, isn't she? Now shoo, darling I still have to write the invitations to our little dinner party. Close the door behind you, will you?"

Draco couldn't ignore the clear dismissal and made his exit, leaving his mother to her letters.

ooOOoo

Theo,

It's worse than I thought. Mother intends to make her a Malfoy. Granger. A Malfoy. My sister. I think I want to die.

Draco

Draco,

Stop being such a pansy. As if you would ever give me the joy of being rid of you. Anyway, you might not get to call Granger sis. Father is determined to adopt her himself. Think there's any chance of a compromise?

Theo

Theo,

Compromise? You do realise we're talking about your father and my mother, right? Not a chance in hell.

Draco

Draco,

At least dinner will be interesting. See you there.

Theo

Theo,

If multiple homicides are your kind of fun then you will have a blast. See you there.

Draco

ooOOoo

Hermione was numb. She hadn't uttered a word since she had seen the newspaper. Dumbledoor and Harry had arrived soon afterwards and tried to talk to her, but she refused to speak. She let them take her to Gringotts, where a frowning goblin sliced her palm with a dagger to draw some blood. She didn't flinch, nor did she thank the headmaster when he healed her. She just waited with her escorts until the goblin returned, a parchment in his hands. She took it without a word and read.

Hermione Alexandra Nott Malfoy

Status: Pureblood

Second in line for headship of the Nott family

Second in line for headship of the Malfoy family

The goblin was the first one to break the silence.

"Elena Nott does not mention you in her will, miss, but she had opened a trust fund here in Gringotts. You will, however have no access to it until your seventeenth birthday. Until then it will be controlled by your guardian. What I need to know is who said guardian is."

Hermione, for the first time in all the years that Harry had known her, looked completely lost.

"I-I don't know.", she managed to utter.

Dumbledoor put his hand on her shoulder in an effort to comfort her.

"Don't worry, my dear, perhaps your... relatives would agree to let me act as your guardian for the remaining year until your coming of age and-"

The headmaster was rudely interrupted by an owl hooting above their heads. The bird dropped a letter in Hermione's hands and flew away, ignoring the goblins' yells about no owls being allowed in the bank.

"What does it say, Hermione?", asked Harry tentatively.

Hermione struggled to break the seal with her trembling fingers, and quickly read the parchment's contents.

"It appears that I am invited to a dinner party.", she said, strangely calm.

Dumbledoor's eyes flashed, but Harry looked confused.

"A dinner party... where?"

"At Malfoy Manor."