**Updated 23/04/2019**

24th August 1998

8:00

"Hermione!" Harry's voice cut through my jet lagged sleep and I couldn't help but groan as I buried my face further into my pillow, pulling my sheet over my head as I did, couldn't Harry read? I had left a note on the kitchen table when I'd dragged myself in to let him know I was home. Then I remembered as Harry's footsteps approached my bedroom that I had neglected to add a time to that note, so with only two hours sleep I dragged myself out of bed and opened the door to the man who was practically my brother.

"Hey Harry," I said happily, rubbing my eyes with my free hand. Regardless of how annoying Harry could be, I would always be happy to see him. When Harry's first response wasn't to jump on me with a bone crushing hug I stopped rubbing my eyes to investigate what the hold-up was only to be shocked further when Harry skittered back a few steps as his hand flew to his wand.

"What happened to you when you took Polyjuice potion in second year and why?" Harry questioned icily.

"Harry?" My voice sounded confused as I eyed his wand warily.

"Answer the question," Harry said tightly, and I just rolled my eyes as I placed my hands on my hips.

"I turned myself into a cat because the hair I'd obtained from Bulstrode's robes in duelling club was that of her pet cat," I sighed before I glared at him. "Now what the hell is going on?" Harry nodded his head seeming satisfied but still confused.

"Have you got a mirror in there?" Harry asked.

"Yes, why?" Harry rolled his eyes and frogmarched me to the mirror where I had to choke down a scream, managing to transform it into a gasp at the last second.

The reflection in the mirror was not the one I had remembered going to sleep with, well it was, but there were significant changes. Other than a slightly darker caramel complexion due to being in Australia, the smallest change was the lack of my usual number of freckles, instead I had only a fine dusting of what my mum used to call "beauty spots". The shape of my eyebrows had sharpened giving them a more aristocratic curve and my lips were plumper, parting over white teeth that were straighter than I'd ever known them to be.

The biggest change I could see were the colour of my eyes. What had once been a milk-chocolate brown, a warm and comforting colour, was now a jarring amber with a bright gold ring around my pupil and flecks of pea green throughout my iris.

"What the fuck?" I whispered and hesitantly I reached my hands up to my silk hair wrap, almost sick with a hope that the unruly nest of brown curls I had been cursed with, had been miraculously tamed with all the other changes. My unspoken wish was granted when I pulled the wrap away and my hair cascaded down my back and hung to my waist in silky black curls.

"Hermione what's going on?" Harry asked, appearing in the mirror behind me. As my eyes met Harry's I deliberated everything I had learned in Australia and then sighed before blinking and turning away from my reflection.

"I found my parents a week ago and tried to bring their memories back, but before I did, I had to use legilimency just to check that I wouldn't do any damage. There was a stronger memory charm intact in the depths of their mind, a really strong obliviation that superseded mine," I explained quietly. Harry's green eyes met mine without flinching as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"You sound like you know something about the caster," Harry said, delicately as if he was trying not to prod, but definitely trying to get information. Unbidden the image of the greasy potions professor sprang into my mind and I grimaced.

"Severus Snape took over the apothecary in Diagon Alley didn't he?" I finally said as I cast a meaningful glance over my friend and was not surprised to see that Harry's mouth dropped open in shock.

Dear Professor Snape,

If you have any time to meet with me today in Diagon Alley, there is a situation I wish for you to shed some light on.

Sincerely

Hermione Granger

I sent the missive off with Harry's new barn owl and then proceeded to dress myself in casual robes, while trying to distract my mind from who my potential parents were. Severus Snape was bound to know their identity since it was his magical signature that was responsible for the memory charm on The Grangers. As I thought about the people who raised me I couldn't help but notice that my features which had always been distant from theirs from the beginning, were nothing like theirs anymore. To add to that the gold eyes that glowed back at me could only have a magical origin, potentially even a pureblood origin. After everything that had happened and now everything I had discovered, I was strangely grateful for the gradual distancing I'd forced on the Grangers by going to Hogwarts, it had made it that much easier to leave them where they were in Australia. They were happy and that was that.

The kitchen of Grimmauld place was as loud and boisterous as usual but when I walked in a sudden silence fell over the kitchen until Fred and George let out twin wolf whistles.

"Shut up Gred and Forge," I snarked as I blinked at the crowd of Weasleys who must have just arrived and at my words, the silence was broken. Looking around I saw that Molly continued to busy herself around the kitchen while Ginny and Harry had a quiet whispered conversation in the corner. I couldn't help but blush at the obvious intimacy of their moment. Fred and George were being loud, showing off a new piece of merchandise to Ron, who had his arm draped loosely around the slender shoulders of Luna Lovegood and I couldn't help but smile. This was what home felt like.

"Hello dear," Molly said kindly as she hurried to pull me into a hug. I just smiled and melted into the Motherly cuddle of the Weasley matriarch that smelt like warm cookies and the Burrow.

"Isn't this weird?" I asked softly as I realised that Molly had treated me no different than normal.

"Oh Hermione, I've seen weird. I raised Fred and George remember… this is nothing," Molly said softly before she tapped me gently on the cheek and bustled off. After deliberating the table, I took my seat opposite Ron and Luna and Luna beamed at me.

"Hello Hermione," Luna said, her voice as airy and light as ever. I simply smiled, my eyes flickering between Ron and Luna as I raised an eyebrow.

"Hello Luna…Ron… When did this develop then?" I asked with a soft grin.

If I was honest with myself, me and Ron had never been compatible, and I knew that. Everything that had happened between us had been because of the war and the fact that we only really had each other to lean on when we were both doing our best to prop Harry up on our shoulders. It was quite refreshing to see Ron no longer bitter and angry and opening up. Luna had clearly mellowed him out. I could see it in the way he looked at her with adoration as she launched into a tale of Flibberwings pulling her and Ron together some time after the trials.

"Hermione, there's a letter here for you," Harry said softly from behind me and I turned. I could tell he wasn't expecting the daunting colour of my eyes from his slight flinch but neither of us commented and I took the letter with a grateful smile.

"Thanks Harry," I said softly before I opened it to see my ex-professor's spiky script.

Miss Granger

A few memories have come back to me this morning and I must agree that we have much to talk about. I am sure you may have many questions and I aim to answer them to the best of my ability. Please meet me at the Leaky Cauldron at your earliest convenience.

Severus.

Harry, who was reading over my shoulder whispered the word memories from behind me and I flipped the letter over, summoning a quill with a flick of my wand.

Professor Snape

I will be at the Leaky Cauldron very shortly

Hermione.

Attaching my letter to Oscar, I let the bird fly and turned my attention to my breakfast, draining my coffee before scarfing down the eggs before I sent my dirty dishes flying into the sink.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Harry asked. Ron looked up with concern in his eyes and I deliberated his request silently. I had to weigh up Harry's attitude with regards to Snape with Snape's disdain for Harry and I shook my head.

"I'll be fine on my own Harry. I got this," I grinned as I stood up, ruffling his hair as I passed him on my way out of the kitchen.

10:00

I stepped into the Leaky Cauldron with gritted teeth, ready for the scrutiny, but for the first time since the war, a hush didn't fall over the patrons and I remembered that I was no longer instantly recognisable as myself. My changed eye colour and black hair wouldn't even seem something to question amongst people who didn't realise who I was, and thankfully, racism against skin colour wasn't a thing in the wizarding world, in comparison to some areas of the muggle one.

Looking around I spotted Severus Snape standing by the bar and almost did a double take. The man had seemed to have had a complete turnaround when it came to his outward appearance. Instead of the overgrown bat costume he had once preferred, he was dressed in simple robes of dark grey and his trademark greasy, black hair was no longer hanging to his collar and was cropped short by his ears. The new hairstyle hadn't made his hair any less greasy, all it had done was expose the vicious scarring caused by Nagini's bite. Looking at the vicious crisscrossed scaring from the repeated bite wounds I felt a swift wave of guilt and pride when I remembered the silent blood clotting spell I'd sent his way and the anti-venom potions I'd forced down his neck before applying copious amounts of dittany and running off after Harry. Pride because the man was still alive, guilt because I could have done more.

"Professor Snape?" I called as I stepped up next to the man. He started and then turned to sneer at me automatically before his sneer froze on his face and his eyes widened.

"Miss Granger?" I nodded and went to ask him about the situation but Snape held up his hand, silencing me automatically.

"Tom, where did you say the guests were?" Snape asked and I tried not to display my shock. Apparently, a near death experience had greatly humbled the brooding bat of the dungeons, that and probably the removal of the stress surrounding his double-agent role under Voldemort.

"Right this way Professor," Tom said cheerfully as he led Snape and by proxy, me, towards the back rooms of the bar.

"I've told you Tom, I'm no longer a Professor," Snape ground out and I bit my lip to hold back a chuckle. Clearly the man's countenance hadn't changed too drastically.

Before Tom could respond, Snape had flung open the door to the private room and stepped in.

"Portia. As promised," Snape said in a droll voice as I followed in after him. I had approximately two seconds to realise that three people were stood towards the back of the room before my arms were filled with a woman whose body slammed into mine with dizzying force

"My baby… My baby…" The woman was sobbing, but I couldn't see past the black curls then my brain clicked.

"Mother?" The whispered word left my mouth like a prayer and at the quiet whisper the woman pulled away and I gasped as I found myself looking into the beautiful face of Portia Zabini.

Every witch knew who Portia Zabini was, if not for the stories of misfortunate lovers that followed her, then for her fashion sense and multimillion-galleon business empire. Personally, I had secretly admired the woman for years. Although a pureblood, Portia Zabini's view on blood purity were decidedly non-existent and when I'd discovered that tit-bit it had immediately warmed her to me. It was comforting as I grew up, to find a female role model. When I'd looked around the wizarding world, outside of school, there weren't many powerful women in the magical world that were regularly in the public eye.

After a second I realised the striking woman was still crying as she looked at me with a hungry expression while her gaze flickered over my features. Unable to help myself, my own eyes drank in her features, recognising that we shared the same eye shape, the same lips and smile, the same jaw-line and skin complexion. Even the pea green flecks in my eyes were inherited from the woman who was quite obviously my Mother.

"Mother?" I breathed and Portia nodded before she turned and faced me to the inhabitants of the room.

"Blaise… Come and meet your twin sister," Mother said before she pulled me back into her embrace and this time, I let myself relax. I let myself be comforted by the smell of the woman's perfume, that brought a wave of nostalgia, and the feel of her arms crushing me to her tall frame as my own arms came around to hold her tight.

"Mother, you're going to crush her to death," Blaise Zabini's haughty voice came from beside us and I instantly sprung away to eye him warily.

"Zabini," I muttered in greeting, holding my hand out for him to shake. Blaise's eyebrows hiked up his forehead and his head tilted to one side as he looked at me quizzically, analysing me before he took my hand and shook it once.

"I know you, don't I? Who are you?" Zabini questioned, crossing his arms across his chest as I began to scrutinise him.

His skin tone was only a shade or two darker than my own, but at the top of his jumper I could see the dark points of a tattoo that disappeared down his sleeve. My own eyebrows hiked up as I noticed that, and I couldn't help but rub my own shoulder where my magical lioness tattoo had been placed while I was in Australia.

Zabini's eyes were the same pea green as our Mother's and we had the same nose and cheekbones, quite honestly it was ridiculous that I hadn't noticed the similarities between us before now, considering how minor the changes to my face actually were.

"Hermione," I said, thrusting my chin up.

Zabini's eyes bugged out of his sockets slightly and he whirled around to face the other occupants of the room, one of whom was a very shocked, spluttering, Draco Malfoy. As I recognised him I felt unease coil itself in my stomach I couldn't help but frown as his grey eyes raked over me.

"Holy shit… Granger?" Draco's voice, when he found it, rocketed through a couple of octaves and I rolled my eyes as I turned away from him and looked to Zabini instead.

"Holy shit indeed Granger," Zabini smirked, which cause a smile to hitch onto my face as Mother and who I now realised was Narcissa Malfoy, turned on their boys to admonish them.

"I hardly think Granger is still appropriate Zabini," I said with a smirk in his direction as I took a tentative step forwards. Zabini smirked back at me and I felt an easy camaraderie spring to life between us.

"Call me Blaise… Hermione," Blaise rumbled, winking at me as we both turned to face the Malfoy's who were arguing in the corner.

"Mother… this isn't going to work," Malfoy suddenly blurted out and I raised an eyebrow as I looked at the panicked blonde.

"What won't work out?" I asked, intrigued as my gaze flickered over Narcissa Malfoy who looked horror-struck as the identity of her friend's daughter was revealed to be the thought-to-be Muggleborn Hermione Granger.

Blaise looked between Malfoy and I and he grimaced as he turned to face Mother.

"Mother, there is a lot of… bad blood… to consider where Hermione and the Malfoys are concerned," Blaise said delicately, and I frowned at him, bad blood was a very watered down way to say 'she was tortured on their drawing room floor' but I pushed the thoughts away remembering the mental training I'd had that earned me my lioness tattoo.

"What isn't going to be a good idea? I don't know if you are aware, but I came here for answers not more questions," I finally said, my voice taking on a dangerous timbre as Blaise cringed away from me. Mother looked from Blaise to a cringing Draco Malfoy and then to me and sighed.

"Hermione… take a seat please. I will explain everything." Mother directed me to an armchair around the fire and I moved to sit willingly.

"During the first world war, after the prophecy about Potter came to be Voldemort's obsession, I heard a second prophecy about a pureblood child with red hair and a pureblood child with gold eyes who would help Potter defeat Voldemort. I thought it had nothing to do with me, until you displayed your magic and your eyes changed colour and remained that way. Terrified of what that would mean because your father, who was a Death Eater, would report back to him, I implored Snape to help me hide you," Mother said quietly. Quietly I counted back from five so I didn't outwardly react but then, I had already suspected that my father had been a death eater, most pureblood men of that time were.

"I hid you with a distant relative of mine Mary Granger, who was childless and was also married to a black man, which would aid in explaining away your skin colour. People would be less likely to ask questions if you at least resembled your apparent 'birth' family. To cover your absence, a child from a death eater attack was transfigured to look like you and tethered to my magic and buried in your place," Snape continued. I couldn't help my wide eyes this time as I looked at Snape. A waspish comment on the dark magic he must have pulled off, hovered on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it as I remembered and considered his position at the time.

Between Mother and Snape, I now understood how I'd come to be adopted by the Grangers, or forced on them if you looked at it the other way, but I couldn't fathom why Narcissa and Malfoy were stood in this very private meeting.

"What does this have to do with Malfoy?" I eventually asked, my amber eyes moving around the room and finally settling on the boy at the back of the room. Then I spied the parchment Narcissa was attempting to keep out of sight and the pieces clicked in my head. "No! Fuck no!" I spat viciously as I jumped to my feet and stormed as far away from the Malfoys as possible.

"Hermione..." Mother cautioned, reaching out to me with one hand, wordlessly imploring me to sit back down, but I shook my head, the careful leash I'd had on my emotions, long since snapped.

"You're about to tell me that there's been a betrothal contract in the works since Malfoy and I were toddlers and as ours must have been the first one, ours must be obeyed as opposed to the other betrothal contracts Malfoy has had in place. Or am I wrong?" I snapped. A look of defeat crossed Mother's face as she let her hand drop back to her lap while Malfoy groaned in the corner.

"My answer is no," I snapped, before I turned on my heel and marched out of the Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Alley.

***TZT***

I was fuming as I marched down Diagon Alley. Technically, I knew I had to get my school supplies but continued to march past the apothecary and ducked into Flourish and Blotts to calm down. Surrounded by books I suddenly felt a tingling at the edge of my magic and looked up to see Blaise standing in front of me, languidly relaxing against the shelves without a care in the world.

"Hey Blou," Blaise said softly.

"Blou?"

"It was your name, your birth name. Blou Hermione Zabini. It's sort of why I found it in me to dislike you back at Hogwarts. A few Slytherins found it hilarious that a muggleborn had a name designated to my dead sister. I mean, Hermione isn't exactly a common name," Blaise muttered as he stepped up to peruse the charms section in front of me. I let the words sink in but didn't say anything as I worked around him until, he stopped in front of a book I wanted to reach.

"Why did you come after me Blaise," I questioned with a huff.

"Snape sent me. He said you might want to see a neutral face." At his words I scoffed, and he grimaced. "Yeah, it wasn't his best plan, but as far as mum and the Malfoy's go, I'm as neutral as you're going to get. Snape stayed behind to mediate, because mum was undoubtably furious. Blaise left the sentence hanging in the air and I frowned as curiosity got the best of me.

"Why?"

"Well, Narcissa and Draco got into a row about the betrothal and Malfoy shouted about the fact that he still hears you screaming at night?" Blaise said with a raised eyebrow. When I deigned not to comment he continued with his tale. "So, mum asked why Draco hears your screams and it came out about the torture, their only saving grace was that neither of them was in a position to stop what was happening and neither of them actively participated." Blaise's words dragged up the memory and I closed my eyes and began to count as Bellatrix's mad cackle cut to the forefront of my mind and slowly the sound retreated, and I glared at my brother who was watching me with thinly veiled anger in his eyes.

"I learned to get over that particular moment, I'd appreciate you not bringing it up. We were in a war, I was lucky to survive without being thrown to Greyback or Avada'd on the spot," I said quietly as I pulled down a few texts and walked towards the desk to pay.

Blaise was silent as I paid for my items and then on a whim collected the schoolbooks that I'd need for my classes, as I went to sling the satchel containing the shrunk books over my shoulder, Blaise took it and carried it out the shop for me before he turned down the street.

"What are you doing?" I asked, rolling my eyes as I caught up to Blaise.

"Helping my baby sister, what does it look like?" Blaise smirked, causing me to bristle at the endearment.

"Baby sister?" I asked indignantly.

"You were born half an hour after me, and so you were born on the 19th September, while I was born on the 18th, hence, baby sister," Blaise teased, and I just groaned. Half an hour difference did not justify the use of childish nicknames, but I chose not to argue. Being around Blaise was soothing and when I thought about it, I could still feel my magic humming pleasantly and I assumed it was due to the familial proximity, although I'd never heard of anything of the like before. I resolved to see if Fred and George knew more about twin magic.

After an hour of wandering around Diagon Alley, we'd acquired all our school things without too much fuss and Blaise heaved out a massive sigh as we approached The Leaky Cauldron.

"What?" I asked, already fearing the answer he was about to give me from the look on his face.

"Don't jump down my throat before I get the words out okay?" Blaise requested softly and I nodded as he sat down on a bench around the corner from the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Okay," I nodded as I sat next to him and waited. Blaise took a deep breath and then steadied his green gaze on mine.

"I know you and Malfoy have a very bad history together and I'd go so far to say that you both probably hate the person you were allowed to see. But this betrothal, it's not something you can get out of easily," Blaise sighed.

"What do you mean?" I asked neutrally. He was right, I very much did hate the snotty, Malfoy brat, but something about Blaise's wording about being allowed to see him as that person, gave me pause.

"I mean that, betrothal contracts are binding, you wouldn't believe just how binding they are, and you don't understand the conditions under which it was made."

"Enlighten me then," I deadpanned. Blaise huffed exasperatedly before he settled into his tale and I worked to keep my features decidedly neutral.

"When Voldemort's followers started having kids, a lot of betrothal contracts were made up. He wanted to make sure the next generation was well prepared, so he 'sanctioned' matches between families. He deliberately tried to leave me and you unmatched to anyone-,"

"Why?"

"Would it surprise you to know that along with being a massive racist towards blood status, Voldemort was also racist about skin colour?" Blaise questioned with a raised eyebrow and I snorted. That fact did not surprise me in the least.

"Voldemort was raised in the muggle world. Racism against colour was very much a thing back then. It was something that surprised me when I integrated into the wizarding world, that my colour wasn't an issue but my blood status was," I said with a shrug. Racism was still a thing if you knew where to look but thankfully most people weren't so ignorant and those that were, were quiet about it. Blaise didn't say anything, but a slightly guilty look crossed his face and he drew his lip between his teeth before sighing.

"Voldemort wanted Pansy to marry Draco because of their aesthetic, but Narcissa appealed to Lucius to have Draco matched up with you instead since the three of us were already very close as children and it would have been a painless match on all sides. That and the fact that our family is practically royalty back in Italy, the Malfoy's are like royalty here and the Parkinson's were a bit too 'grabby'. Voldemort approved it, blessed it even and helped draw up the betrothal contract. It's binding in all circumstances. Even in death Draco would have been forced to stay unmarried," Blaise explained gently, and I did my best not to shout my disapproval.

"So what would have happened if I'd actually been dead. I'm assuming the Malfoy line would have died out with him unless he sired a 'bastard' and named him heir. What if I had married someone else, would it have held?" I eventually said when I'd worked through my reaction. Blaise just shrugged.

"No one quite knows. I'm going to do my best to help you though. Maybe I'm being a selfish and self-preserving Slytherin, but you're an adult, you could disappear off the face of the planet if you wanted to. I don't want to lose my sister when I've just got her back. I've always remembered you and I've always felt slightly empty when I remembered my twin. This feeling in my magic… I never want to lose that," Blaise said quietly. Shocked at the admission I looked at him and found him looking more vulnerable than I'd ever seen anyone and without thinking I reached out to take his hand with a small smile.

"I promise Blaise, if I ever do run away, I'll let you know where I go. But maybe this is me being a bull-headed Gryffindor, but I have no desire to do that. I see everything through to the end. But why did you guys throw this at me now, why not give me the chance to settle into the idea that I have a new family before you threw a betrothal contract at me?" Blaise gave me an impish grin and squeezed my hand before he let it go.

"Because, Narcissa is currently holding Lucius' seat on the Wizengamot and Mother holds the Zabini seat. There have been talks about installing a marriage law to deal with the low numbers of wizard folk in Britain. If the numbers don't see an incline by one year after the war, they will have no choice but to install it, and that's if Mother can hold enough sway to stop them implementing it by Christmas," Blaise said, lowering his voice conspiratorially as a group of witches meandered past us.

"That's barbaric," I muttered, suddenly distracted from my own situation to focus on the bigger picture. "I'm assuming Narcissa and…Mother, would rather us matched together to link the families, than to be matched with any random stranger, and the marriage law wouldn't have the strength to dissolve betrothal agreements, engagements or existing marriages."

"Got it in one… But I agree with you Hermione, you should have had the time to come to grips with the family thing first. I've quite enjoyed the past hour or two and even if you don't run, I don't want this whole betrothal thing to drive a wedge between you and Mother and me. We've missed you," Blaise said softly, and then he left the satchel on the bench next to me and without another word walked away into the Leaky Cauldron, leaving me with my thoughts as Diagon Alley began to get busier with the midday rush.

16:00

Diagon Alley was emptying of people by the time I thought to move from my seat as I'd had a lot to think about, starting with the nature of my adoption. I'd already discovered the fact that I couldn't reverse the memory charm when I decided to start my mental healing, so although the pain of leaving the people who raised me was still there, it was more of a dull ache when I thought about them. It still felt like a poor way to repay them for everything, but it was a better alternative than them turning up dead because they were linked to a child that hadn't even been theirs. Instead of spending what would have been the rest of my life making it up to the Grangers, I now had the chance to start fresh as a Zabini, but after so many years… it felt too good to be true, but personally I didn't have a choice.

Since the war, I'd become a firm believer of taking every opportunity that was given to me. My ability to accept every opportunity was part of why I had been given the lioness as my tattoo, lions were opportunistic hunters after all, but this betrothal wasn't something I could easily grab for and run with. However, according to Blaise there wasn't an easy way out so maybe I just had to wait and bide my time and play nice with the Malfoys until I understood everything.

With a bone deep sigh, I stood and stretched, flicking my wand at my packages to shrink them and place them inside my newly charmed satchel, then I turned and headed back into the Leaky.

Mother jumped about a mile when I reappeared in the doorway of the private room but Blaise's restraining hand on her forearm stayed her immediate reaction to envelope me in another bone-crushing hug. As I looked around the room warily Blaise cleared his throat as he stood.

"I sent the Malfoys away to await our owl and Snape had to get back to the apothecary," Blaise said by way of explanation as I realised the room was significantly emptier.

"Ah…" I said quietly as I threaded my fingers together. "Why did you send them away?"

"I figured you'd rather not have to talk to them more-."

"No, I mean why did you do it?" I asked. Suddenly remembering how most pureblood politics were arranged by the males.

"You're not going to like this because it's going to seem sexist, but in our family usually the Male head of the family manages betrothal contracts to female family members-," I snorted, suspecting as much but Blaise held up his hand to quiet me and I waited for more. "And a betrothal contact involving a male family member is handled by the female head. It used to all be managed by the female head actually. I think father changed the rule when you were betrothed at Voldemort's behest." I could only frown at those words because none of them made sense.

"The Zabini's have a much more liberal point of view on who should be the head of the family, but you will learn about that later," Mother interrupted, and I just nodded while a plan formulated itself in my head.

"Then surely that means you can nullify the betrothal and then there's nothing to worry about," I smiled sweetly. Blaise laughed aloud at the saccharine sweetness of my voice and Mother joined in.

"Unfortunately, my dear, sweet little sister, that is above my power. Now come on, let's get your stuff and get you settled into the manor." My eyes widened in surprise and I took a quick step back.

"Wait what?"

"My dear, you and Blaise are to return to Hogwarts in a week. I know that you currently live with Mr Potter, but I know you'd like a place to call a home of your own… and surely you won't begrudge a Mother one week with her only daughter that's been missing for nearly 17 years." I could only stare as the graceful woman I now called Mother, rose to her feet, a sad smile on her face and I nodded immediately. Only as I followed my Mother and brother from the room that it occurred to me that I'd have to clamp down on the 'Gryffindor saving people' thing everyone said I had if I was going to last even one day amongst my very Slytherin family.

***TZT***

"No. Absolutely. No. Fucking. Way!" Harry spat vehemently as he stood from the table suddenly. I just sighed from the kitchen doorway as Harry reacted as anticipated.

"Potter, you can't tell her what to do," Blaise snapped, crossing his arms.

"I'm not telling her what to do, I'm telling you what to do Zabini," Harry snapped as he pushed away from the table and marched into the kitchen.

"Mr Potter. As close as your relationship is with my daughter, she is my daughter," Mother intervened, and Harry glowered at her.

"Ms Zabini-,"

"It's Mrs," Mother interrupted delicately, her tone as if she was correcting someone on the weather, but her eyes told another story.

"Mrs Zabini. Hermione is practically my sister, she doesn't have to go anywhere with you," Harry growled.

I rolled my eyes as I brushed past the trio arguing over what I could or couldn't do and poured myself a glass of pumpkin juice as I stood next to Molly. Listening quietly while I tried to get my temper under control, I drained my glass but finally snapped, setting the glass on the table with enough force to shatter it as Harry implied that I needed his protection.

"Harry James Potter. Where do you think you get off?" I asked quietly, my voice perfectly audible in the sudden quiet of the room.

"Hermione… this is just. This can't be true," Harry groaned as he turned to face me.

"Harry. I know you wear glasses, but are you fucking blind?" I growled. Harry's mouth opened and closed like a fish but he didn't speak and I sighed heavily as I shrugged out of my outer robes, suddenly too warm in the kitchen. A slight gasp went around the room and I looked down to see my lioness pacing angrily up and down my left arm, her tail swishing agitatedly as she moved, and I remembered that I was yet to tell anyone about it. The gasp had centred me somewhat and the next words out my mouth were calmer. "If you had one chance to spend time with your family, wouldn't you take it?" I asked quietly. Harry's mouth opened and closed and then his shoulders sagged.

"I only want what's best for you Hermione," Harry said softly, and I groaned.

"Harry, let me decide what is best for me…please?" I finally said after a few beats of silence.

"But…"

"No!" My voice was loud in the silent kitchen and I gritted my teeth. "This is my decision. I'm not just going to disappear off the face of the planet, I'm sure you can come and visit me, but I want to get to know my birth family. I gave up everything to help take down Voldemort Harry, including my family without ever knowing about it, let me have this," I pleaded. Harry was quiet, contemplative and I thought he was coming around to the idea. I was wrong.

"But they're Death Eaters," Harry finally whispered and before I could reason with myself I'd marched towards him and slapped him clean around the face.

"Actually Potter. My wrists are as bare as yours," Blaise smirked as he rolled up the sleeves of his jumper then he chuckled as what looked to be a tribal tattoo came into view. "Well not quite as bare, but I don't wear a dark mark." Blaise finished as he appraised the black ink that decorated his arms.

For a long moment Harry and I stood staring at each other. He seemed to think that nowadays I required his permission to do things and that would never be the case. Not even Ron had argued against this, but Harry was fighting me on it like I was running off to become the next Dark Lord. When he said nothing except hold his cheek and look at me forlornly, I turned away and walked out the kitchen.

"Owl me when you're ready to come to your senses," I said quietly before I was out of earshot, then I ran off upstairs to pack before the tears I could feel threatening, actually fell.