Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Any recognizable characters (besides Healer Kaylee my recurring OC), places, or items are the work of the wonderful and fabulous J.K. Rowling. Any of the text that is bold or italicized when Hermione is teaching a class is directly copied from Harry Potter Wikia.

Beta: The ever amazing Aimless Wonder.

Pairings: Hermione/Severus, Harry/Ginny, Ron/Draco, Neville/Luna

OC's: See profile

Chapter Word Count: 1,923

Story Word Count: 16,207

~Enjoy.

Chapter Nine

Hermione,

Enclosed is a letter from Meissa, who I'm sure Harry has told you is your biological mother. She wished for you to read it, though I understand if you are not ready.

I was also hoping that you would join me for lunch tomorrow afternoon at Café de Fleur.

Love always,

Jean

Hermione shifted her gaze from her mothers short letter, feeling her brows pinch slightly as she took in the smaller envelope that been tucked within the folded paper.

She was sitting at the staff table in the Great Hall with the other Professors, Severus in the seat beside her, and she had made no attempt to hide her mother's words from him.

Looking at her expression, he reached over and gave her hand a soft squeeze in reassurance. "You don't have to read it."

Despite his words, her frown remained. "I know, but I feel like I should," she replied as she handled the envelope. "At least give her a chance to explain herself."

"Would you like to go back to the quarters? I could read it to you," he suggested calmly.

"No, it's fine," she said as she gave a shake of her head and stood. Subtly, she brought her hand down to her stomach and felt the slight bulge.

Severus stood with her, and gave her a light kiss on the cheek as they left the table. "I'll come and get you for lunch," he said when they were in the corridors, "but if you need me before then, don't hesitate to call."

She frowned at him, irritation rising. "Just because I'm pregnant does not mean that I need you to coddle me, Severus; I am a grown woman," she snapped before promptly turning on her heel and storming off towards the staircase.

Her fury lasted only until she plopped herself down in the chair in her office. Giving a heavy sigh, she looked around the room before her eyes settled down on the envelope on the her desk. Steeling herself, she picked it up and began tearing the seal open, determined to remain impassive to whatever words the woman who had given birth her had written.

But as she read the letter, she knew that it would be impossible to do so.

It was surprisingly earnest, and by the time she had reached the end, all the tension she had gathered since she had opened her mother's letter had disappeared.

Leaning back in her chair, she continued to assess the letter, going over the first paragraph that Meissa her written, about the 'circumstances' concerning her biological father. She thought back to Harry's letter and his mention of taking her father to St. Mungo's to verify his claims, and his investigation into Meissa's history.

Hermione knew that Harry would have been very meticulous with his investigation, so it would be sage for her to assume that everything written in Meissa's letter would be the truth, if not all out if.

Rereading the letter, Hermione focused on the words 'there were complications during your birth'.

She brought her hand down and rubbed her belly as she pondered those words. Complications were what she had feared when she had learned she was pregnant. She had already spoken to Poppy and their PreNatal Healer, Healer Kaylee, about any possible complications, but she'd have inform them of Meissa's history once she found out all the details.

By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of breakfast and for students to return to their dorms to prepare for their classes, there were tears in her eyes. Hastily, she wiped at her eyes and forced her tears down, knowing that it wouldn't do her any good to appear teary-eyed in front of her seventh-year students.

Severus had been watching her throughout dinner, and frowned slightly when he saw that she was close to tears. He stood up, and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her with him, and they swiftly made their exit through the staffroom.

"Thank you," whispered Hermione as he led her through the corridors to make it to their quarters. Students were still eating so there was little chance of them being seen.

"What is wrong?" he asked, though he figured that it had to do with the letter.

Hermione didn't say anything until they had the door to their living room shut behind them. "She said that there were complications during my birth—I've spent most of my life being angry at my birth parents for not wanting me, but they did—You read the letter from Harry—and Meissa said in her letter that my father disappeared before he knew that she was pregnant..."

Severus had a hard time deciphering her jumbled speech, between the sobs, but he just pulled her close until she needed him to talk.

Cafe de Fleur was surprisingly sparse for the Saturday lunch hour, though Jean thought it mostly to do with the weather. She and Meissa had arrived promptly at half-noon, Jean knowing that the lunch period at Hogwarts began at 12:45 pm.

They'd ordered tea on their arrival, their conversation light before Meissa had excused herself to visit the restroom, most likely in an effort to collect herself.

Catching sight of Hermione at the door, Jean raised her hand to draw her attention and waited as she approached their table.

"Is dad joining us?" asked Hermione after giving her a kiss on the forehead, "because there's something I have to tell the two of you."

Jean shook her head. "No, he won't coming. It's just Meissa and I." She watched as Hermione spotted the handbag that was sitting in the vacant chair next to hers.

"She's in the restroom?" said Hermione, to which Jean nodded.

A waitress came to take Hermione's order and Jean waited for her to leave before she spoke.

"Dear," she said, making sure that she had her daughter's attention before continuing, "there is something your father and I haven't told you."

"What is it?" asked Hermione, her head tilted slightly to the side in question.

"It has to do with why your father and I eventually decided to adopt," Jean said. "You had probably already guessed, as with most couples that adopt, it had been because we hadn't been able to conceive." Hermione's expression soften slightly in understanding as she nodded. "That wasn't exactly the case.

"It was about five years before we adopted you. I had finally gotten pregnant and the following nine months had been gone by with no complications. It was only during labor that we discovered that he had been still born. The doctors said that he hadn't been getting enough oxygen."

Hermione reached across the table and held her hands. "Thank you for telling me."

"The doctors said the chances of us conceiving again were low, and after a few years we decided to adopt. We never could have imagined how lucky we were when we found you, dear."

Hermione gave her a soft smile before her gaze shifted off to the side, and her posture straightened. "Is that her?" she asked suddenly, voice almost a whisper.

Looking over her right shoulder, Jean spotted Meissa making her way back to them. "Yes, that's her."

"Hermione," said Meissa as she reached the table but did not take her seat. "It's lovely to finally meet you."

"When Harry told me that we look just alike I didn't quite believe him," said Hermione as she stood up to greet her, a hand held out in greeting. "You must be Meissa Black."

"Black would be my maiden name," said Meissa as they both retook their seats. "Harry and your biological father have been visiting the Ministry for the past few days. Harry said that it would be best to sort out your father's situation before informing you of his identity."

Hermione nodded. "He said as much in his letter," she said, her tone showing slight irritation.

Meissa smiled at her expression. "He predicted that you wouldn't be too pleased."

"I'm supposed to meet with him later," sighed Hermione. "He's planning to show me his memory of your meeting."

"You can do that?" Meissa asked, blinking. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised, since my father was able to erase memories." She shook her head, seemingly in awe. "Despite my relationship with your father, I've spent all of my life in the muggle world, so I don't know that much about anything when it comes to magic, aside from its existence."

"The most accurate method for viewing memories is with a Pensieve; basically a shallow basin with runes etched into the bowl. All Harry has to do is extract the memory of his meeting with you from his mind and place into the Pensieve," Hermione explained with a thoughtful look. "I've never actually used one, but Harry said that you view the memory as if you were actually there, though as an unseen bystander."

"That's amazing," Meissa said.

"See," said Jean as she looked between the two of them. "I knew that you two would find something to talk about."

"Magic has always fascinated me," Meissa said. "I was only just over a year old, but I can still remember being a little girl and watching my mother and aunt do amazing things with there wands."

"You have a very good memory," said Hermione, appearing surprised.

Meissa laughed. "You could say that I was very apt for my age. That didn't change when my father dropped me off at the orphanage. I was no longer able to observe magic, so I just turned to other things. I spent most of my time reading the books that they had there. It was the same in primary and high school. I always had my head in some book or another. I hear that that's something you might have inherited," she said, giving Hermione a small smile.

Hermione nodded. "The other children would always tease me for it; they said I was a little know-it-all." She paused, a reflection of Meissa smile appearing on her lips. "But then I turned eleven and eventually received my letter, then began attending Hogwarts. Things began to get easier after that."

A wicked smirk burst across his face as he peered in through the glass into the living room and saw the child unconscious on the floor, the journal clutched in his little hands.

He watched as the boy's mother walked into the room, reeling in shocking as she spotted her son's body.

"CHARLES! CHARLES! CALL A HEALER!" he heard her cry as she rushed over and dropped down beside her son's body.

The woman's husband burst into the living room and, after taking in the scene, hurried over to the fireplace which ignited with a wave of his wand. Grabbing a handful of green powder from the jar atop the mantle he threw it into the fire, turning it green, before bending down and sticking his head through them.

"ST. MUNGOS!"

All the while, the woman sat cradling her son's limp body, murmuring continuously. "Damien, you need to be okay, son. Do you hear me, Damien? You NEED to be okay!"

Minutes passed as a few Healers came through the fireplace, all of them examining the boy as his parents watched anxiously.

The last thing Frank Travers saw before he apparated was the flickering image of his mistress standing behind the group of people. He couldn't help his laughter as he disappeared, because he knew that they were too late.