Qoheleth and random Guest: Thanks for reviewing/commenting!

I know the first chapter was really short, but I hope this one's a little better, even if it's not as long as I'd like. Enjoy! :)

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing you recognise.

Chapter 2

After she screamed for a full minute, the first thing Hermione noticed was her hair. It wasn't the frizzy mane she'd usually see in the morning; it was a full head of graceful, tousled locks, and they were dark enough to pass for black. Her face was more heart-shaped and she suddenly had high cheekbones and dark almond-shaped eyes. Her nose was more petite, and her skin was tanned but not very dark. She'd grown about three inches, and looked down to see that her figure was much more… desirable.

It was too much to take in, and as she looked at her face again, Hermione started hyperventilating. That was when her parents rushed in.

"What happened honey-" her mother started to say as she entered the room, and her father followed with an equally concerned look on his handsome face. They both gasped and took a step back as they saw Hermione, who had tears in her eyes.

"Mum, Dad, what's happening?" She asked, searching their faces. "Why am I this… this… person?"

Her parents exchanged apprehensive, nervous looks and Hermione prompted them. Her mother took a deep breath before speaking.

"Hermione, dear, you know that we love you, regardless of anything, and will always view you as our daughter," she began nervously. Hermione nodded, fighting the sudden urge to cry. Or scream. Or maybe curl up in a ball and pretend that this wasn't what she thought it was.

"Well, as you must know, that Dark wizard – what was his name? – ah yes, Voldemort, was at the height of his power and had the rather nasty habit of confiscating children he thought showed any promise as great wizards or witches."

"He'd make sure his follower's kids were trained to become Death Eaters, and he'd threaten parents who weren't allied with him into giving up their kids. So, what certain pureblood families did was give up their kids to a Muggle family, usually a couple who had no kids but longed for one, in order to ensure their child's safety." Hermione nodded again. She'd read this in a few books on Voldemort, but she couldn't figure out how her mom knew this. Actually, she had a pretty good idea, but she'd much rather not think about that.

Jean continued with a steady voice, though her tears threatened to spill over. "Hermione, my love, there is no easy way to say this. You are not our biological daughter, though I have wished many times over the years that you were. You were one of the only kids who were given away by magical families to have survived to the age of eighteen." Her mom was crying now; tears streamed down her cheeks as her father held her hand tightly.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but was distracted by a faint scratching sound. She pushed past her parents and went out to see a beautiful owl at the window. She moved in a stupor, as if still trying to process everything her mother just told her. She took the letter from the owl and stroked its soft feathers as she gave it a treat.

To my dear daughter,

If you are reading this now, I assume it is the 21st of July and you have just turned eighteen. You are probably confused as to what is going on, but I trust your foster parents have explained everything. I was forced to give you away, my dear, because of what would have befallen you had I disclosed your existence to the Dark Lord.

As purebloods, my husband and I were obliged to join his monstrous cult, or die. He made us promise that we'd raise our children to be death eaters and "blood purists", as he called them, and when we hesitated, he made us swear that we'd give him our first daughter for his exclusively brutal "training programs" as a sign of our loyalty.

You can imagine, then, our dread, when we discovered that I was pregnant with twins – a boy and a girl. Arrangements were made to give you anonymously to a nice family that one of our most trusted friends had found. We didn't find the couple ourselves, as the information might be taken from us, and in that case, we'd have nothing to prevent that monster from taking you.

For eighteen years, I have been waiting for this day, when my daughter, Alyssa Zabini, will know who her parents really are. I know this is a shock, but please, try to forgive me. I don't expect to accept us immediately, but please, meet me once and allow me to talk to you.

Yours truly,

Rose Zabini

Hermione sat down hard on her bed and covered her mouth to hold back the sobs for now. For the first time in her eventful life, she felt overwhelmingly confused and betrayed. She'd spent her student life standing up to elitist purebloods and proving that she was every bit as worthy as they were of the magic that coursed through her veins. She'd spent all of her life believing she was someone else's daughter – she didn't think she could ever think of the two as anything but her parents. And now she was supposed to immediately stomach the fact that she belonged to the very class she hated with all her heart.

How could they keep this from me? Hermione kept asking herself, even though she knew the answer was right in front of her. And the Zabinis… did Blaise know that she, Mudblood Hermione Granger, was his twin sister? The thought of Blaise sent a shock through Hermione, because she'd suddenly remembered that Draco Malfoy aka ferret, was (and probably still is) Blaise Zabini's best friend. Her twin brother's best friend. Hermione had never really got the chance to talk to Zabini, but it was very likely that his friend's elitist ideas had rubbed off on him. How would he react to the news that she was his twin, if he didn't know it already?

Merlin, how would everyone react? Would they even recognize her? Would they shun her as some sort of traitor? No, she couldn't bear that thought. Hermione reached for her beaded bag, which held all the necessities for an unannounced departure and stood up with a resolve that surprised even her, and spun around to face her parents.

It was then that she realized they'd been speaking to her. Her mum was sobbing her name, and her father was saying something soothingly, obviously thinking that Hermione was furious and needed to cool down. Hermione didn't think she was very angry; in fact, she wasn't sure what she was feeling right now. She felt her resolve threaten to abandon her, and she steeled herself.

"Mum, Dad, thank you for clarifying everything. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need time to think. Alone. I don't know when I'll be back, so don't worry too much. I need some fresh air to clear my head." And with that, Hermione Disapparated with a loud crack.

Feel free to comment, review or flame! (I don't really care which, as long as I know some people, somewhere, are reading this and I'm not wasting my time.)

-Goddess Athena in Disguise