Disclaimer: I own no part of the Harry Potter franchise; all characters and ideas belong to J.K. Rowling.

When last we left our heroine, she was drunk as a skunk and had just received a makeover and some of the worst news of her life. How will she react? How will she cope? Will she turn to a life of drugs and turning tricks with her newfound self confidence or will she embrace the sexy librarian that dwells inside all good girls and become the mistress of an S and M brothel?

Only time will tell.

Then again, she might just hurl and then go to Hogwarts. Who knows? We have to get this show to the school at some point.

When Hermione awoke later that evening, she had a splitting headache.

Sitting bolt upright and putting a hand to her head, she reached out her other arm and fumbled about on her nightstand, certain she had at least three…maybe four, aspirin lying about. Eyes heavily lidded, she knocked over several items before following a picture frame and music box to the floor by tumbling off her bed.

She squinted a bit, both hands on her poor, aching head this time. Ah ha! she thought. There you are, she told one of the aspirins that was hiding beneath the bed skirt. She gulped it down quickly, without water; and was searching for the others, bum in the air and head under the bed, when an awful pounding noise sounded on her door.

The door creaked open and Hermione scooted hastily from her position on the floor, bumping the back of her already poor, pathetic, aching head on the bed frame. She squeaked and flopped down onto her stomach.

"Lovey? Are you alright?" came her mother's voice.

Hermione moaned in response and dragged herself the rest of the way from beneath the bed. Turning her self over, she lay on her back on the floor, throwing an arm melodramatically over her eyes.

"Woe is me!" she gurgled. Her mother laughed softly and walked over to her. Hermione heard the clink of a glass being set on the bedside table and then felt her mum place some pills in her open hand.

"Aspirin!" Hermione gasped and sat up too quickly, her head spinning. "Oh, you're a perfect angel, Mum!"

"Of course I am, darling. Now take those and drink all your water. I have some serious things to discuss with you."

Hermione did as she was told and then blearily kicked off her flip flops. Leaning back against the mattress, she squinted up at her mother. The older woman was perched on the edge of her bed.

"Is this about…oh, all that secret like stuff?" She paused and screwed up her face. "The stuff mentioned in my school letter- that I never got to research because Tiff was here?"

"Yes, darling. And I'm terribly sorry to dump this on you now, but it appears you don't handle alcohol well enough to be relaxed first…well, that's neither here nor there." Her mother paused and then placed a hand on her adopted daughter and niece's head, smoothing it over her hair. "The thing is, we'd hoped to keep the truth from you longer…well, we would've had to tell you some of it before you went back this year. But the other thing- it's only because you're to be head girl this year that we have to speed up our plans. In some ways it's fortunate, but the headmaster's choice of head boy is not fortunate. It is, in fact, not part of the original agreement."

Hermione squinted again. "Mum, what are you going on about?"

The older woman stopped her hand's ministrations and smiled tentatively. "The head boy, Hermione, darling. Draco Malfoy. Well, you're betrothed. Technically, that is. I'm sure his parents haven't forgotten the betrothal and are doing everything they can to get out of it, since you were presumed dead by most of the wizarding world. Still, since your body was never found…," her voice trailed off and Hermione rubbed her eyes a bit.

"Wait, so not only are we Head Boy and Girl this year, but I'm also engaged to him? And- and you had an arrangement with Dumbledore that if I ever became Head Girl Malfoy would in no way be Head Boy at the same time?" Hermione's head reeled. For a moment, she thought it was from the news about Draco. Then she remembered she was still hung-over.

"Oh, Mum, I think now is not the right time for this news…I feel sick," she mumbled, holding her stomach and head.

Suddenly she got another flash of…well, whatever it was, it wasn't a memory. A blond haired boy was leaning in to kiss her. She pulled away just as another body entered their shared living quarters…

"Hermione? Dovey? Are you alright? Need me to grab the waste bin?"

Hermione looked back up at her mum and shook her head. "No, I'll just be a few minutes," she said, standing up shakily and stumbling to the loo.

She was violently ill all over the porcelain. After washing up, she returned to her room.

"I think I need another aspirin, Mum," she said, smiling weakly. "And by the way, why do I keep getting these weird flashes of…not memory?"

Her mother eyed her carefully for a few moments before speaking. "That's probably the were-fairy," she replied, lifting her hands apologetically.

Hermione's eyes got very wide for another second. "Excuse me again," she murmured, racing for the loo once more- this time in a much less dignified manner.

She was violently ill again.

This time when she returned to her room, her mum had pulled a book out and laid it on her bed. Hermione picked it up.

"For me?" she asked briefly, before cracking it open.

Her mum had barely nodded before Hermione was deep in the literature. The book was titled, Flight of Fur: Understanding and Releasing Your Inner Were-Fairy. Hermione snickered at the title a bit before delving in once more.

After several moments she looked back up at the woman sitting across from her. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered.

Her mum shook her head. "I'm afraid not, diddlypoo. It's your heritage. Something to do with having Riddle, Goulifon, and Dumbledore all in your bloodline. It produced some rather odd effects when combined, apparently. Like the were-fairy effect."

"Wait- so do I have wings? And pointy ears? And fur?"

"Sort of, darling. You see, when the full moon arrives, you will sprout wings."

Hermione waited. Her mum looked at her even more apologetically than before- almost pityingly.

"Furry wings," the older woman offered. Hermione blanched.

She rushed to the loo once more.

After her third return, her mum felt her forehead. "Are you sure that's still the wine?" she asked her daughter.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, I'm preggers, Mum," she replied sarcastically.

Her mum gasped. "Who's the father? This could be very important in your current delicate state, you know."

"MUM! I'm not preggers! I was joking, Merlin! You are both bats hit crazy, you know that? First this huge revelation and now a second and third huge revelation? How much more is there to know?"

Her mother sighed and patted the bed. "Better sit down, darling diddly. There's more, I'm afraid."

Hermione sat and tried to keep down the rest of her heaving stomach. It wouldn't do to lose all those smoked oysters. This information was decidedly not worth losing a lunch's worth of smoked oysters over.

Two more bathroom breaks later- in spite of her best efforts to escape them- she had the whole story. Well, as much of it as she could handle at the moment.

"So let me get this straight and then I'll let you take my temperature, I promise," she stopped her mum.

"Not only will I sprout furry wings at the full moon and lust for the dark arts; at the new moon I will transform into a regular fairy- with elven traits, yes, I got that bit, Mum- and be able to foresee the future. But I won't lust after anything?"

"Right, pumpkin."

"Second, I'm technically betrothed to Draco Malfoy and if he ever sees me in either of my transformations, he'll know who I am. I can't let that happen because I'm Voldy's last living magical relative and he needs me for nefarious purposes."

"That's right, but remember-."

"Dumbledore knows everything and has put things in place- in spite of his making me and Malfoy co-heads- to protect me." Hermione eyed her mother uncertainly.

"You've got everything, love! Isn't it wonderful to know the truth?"

Hermione leapt up. "Are you insane? No, it isn't wonderful! I have this huge- three huge secrets- hanging over my head and I can't tell a soul, not even my best friends! Not that they're so bloody fabulous anyway, but you know what I mean, Mum!

"I'm going to be completely ostracized if they find out- because they will, since it's Hogwarts and no one ever keeps a secret at Hogwarts- and then I won't have any friends, good or bad! And I won't even have a betrothed because he would hate me whether he found out the truth or not! Oh my gosh, Mum, no! This is not wonderful or okay!"

Her mother sat back from her outburst before standing up and giving her a pat on the shoulder.

"Oh, darling. You'll be fine. Now stop whining and finish packing. We have to take you to the train tomorrow, you know."

Hermione flopped back on her bed as her mum left her to mull things over. As she lay back, she flicked her wand casually, sending things here and there into her trunk. At least she could pack and self pity at the same time. Ah, the joys of magic.

She fidgeted the whole way to the train station the next day: picking at this invisible thread or that inconspicuous wrinkle. Her parents ignored her.

She'd worn one her new outfits and it would have been pointless to tell her she looked lovely in it; it was bugging the hell out of her and quite frankly she was wishing she'd never seen her cousin. She tried desperately to tug down the skirt a little more as she got out of the backseat, hauling her trunk out after her. Her parent's never helped her carry the trunk- no, that was always her job. Even when she'd only been eleven! Blasted good for nothing adoptive- her thoughts were interrupted.

"Hermione?" came a squeaky voice. She looked about as she dragged the trunk up the platform. Ah, of course. Ron.

He was staring at her as if he'd just seen her for the first time- wait, wasn't that what Tiff said she wanted to happen? So she shouldn't kill him for staring at her breasts, right? She sighed and let him hug her a bit longer than he needed to.

"Yes, it's me. Hullo, Ronald," she said in as bored a voice as possible. It was only sort of lucky for her that he was paying no attention whatsoever to her voice. Suddenly another voice disturbed her thoughts.

"Hermione! Harry, it's her!" Ginny, her best friend, was dragging Harry along behind her. She and Harry weren't dating, although they were very good friends. Ginny sometimes qualified the previous statement with an ominous 'yet,' although she was only teasing him. It's just to see the look of horror on his face, honest! the redhead used to say, grinning. Besides, everyone knows it's really you he's interested in.

Hermione generally scoffed at Ginny's statements of how much Harry 'lurved' her, but she had to admit that the look on his face that particular morning was not the same as the outward stare of lust Ron was giving her chest. In fact, he looked almost…shy. Hermione decided she liked it.

Then her tummy decided it like muffins and embarrassed her by growling. Very loudly.

"Merlin, mudblood, what did you do? Starve yourself in order to get that thin?"

Hermione nearly turned about and yelled, You can't call me that anymore, Malfoy! I'm a pureblood! But a look from her parents stopped her. When Harry looked upset, she shrugged and grinned.

"Sticks and stones?"

Harry only laughed in a nervous manner. Ron watched Hermione's breasts for any movement. Ginny kneed her brother in the groin.

"Well, it looks like you've got this crowd under control, lovely-ums," her father said, giving her a hug goodbye.

"Don't forget to write or owl us whenever you get the chance- or if you just need to, darling!" her mum reminded her over the whistle of the train.

Hermione waved to them both as she and her friends crowded out a window. In spite of the changes she had gone through in the last two weeks, she really felt fairly good about everything. After all, she'd faced werewolves and destructive willow trees, retarded giants and giant snakes, death eaters and eating muffins. Just because she was now a pureblooded were-fairy who was betrothed to Malfoy and related to the dark lord didn't mean she wasn't still the brightest witch of her age.

She smiled out at her parents and gave one last mighty wave and hurrah.

Then, with one final blast of steam, they were off to start another ordinary year at Hogwarts.