The Seventh Moon

Author: IcyFire

Rating: PG-13

A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. School kills. This chapter doesn't really present any new information to the reader, but Hermione does learn something new.

Thanks to my reviewers: Dragon Scales, Dragon Bad Faith, p0tterzpal, Questions answers, Kakuraji, Dreaming One, Elfmoon87, sweet-cookie, Oria, tainted black, ..., HarryPotterWanter, Kristina Chang, Lucent Dusk, starbright, avri, Alexial, aku-neko, lucy, DrAcOlUvA99, Deese-Rouge-Cheveux, Achicagoil, K-chan, maggot, Miss Madison, zali, DerangedCheshireCat, Yousei Kaijou, Blackened Flame, Lady Calliope, Angel of Music, BlueBird, Redbird, Joanna, Ardent Entity, Dragonfires, babmidnight, hey there cutie, Dana, hermie4sev, and anyone I might have missed, in which case I would feel really bad. Oh yeah, and thanks to blondieditz (I don't know your penname) who emailed me.

Disclaimer: As much as I would like to believe that all of this is mine, unfortunately, it's not except the plot.

~*~

The Seventh Moon

Chapter Seven

She picked herself up from the hard stone ground, dusted off her robes and resolved not to think about it anymore. There were footsteps in the distance coming towards her and she quickly wiped away all the tears staining her face. She wouldn't let anyone see her cry.

It was her pride telling her to not let others see her tears. Her pride - the pride that she had grown up with - the pride that was a part of her. A part of her? A part of who? Who was she? She couldn't answer that.

This was just a misunderstanding, she told herself. She was still Hermione Granger. She was still the daughter of Charles and Elizabeth Granger. She was still the best friend of Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. She was still the smartest witch in Hogwarts. She was still a Gryffindor. She was still herself.

That was all she knew, all she would convince herself to believe. Everything else was just misunderstandings.

The footsteps neared and she could tell that the person was already in the corridor. She turned around and met two gray eyes.

He was the last person she wanted to see at the moment. He was the one who made everything so real. If he hadn't been there - if he hadn't been a witness to the event - then she could go on with the rest of her life and pretend that nothing had happened. But, no, he was there - he served as her constant reminder.

She didn't want to face it - she wanted to leave it all behind. Spinning around, her dark hair whipping around her, she ran from him - ran from everything she didn't want to believe, wouldn't believe.

But he chased after her and it was a while before she realized that she was running away from something that was a part of her - something that she could never leave behind. It would always be there - it was burned into her.

She ran hard, harder than she ever had in her whole life. But soon, she heard the footsteps pounding after her, catching up with her.

A hand reached out from behind her and placed a firm grasp on her arm, jerking her to a stop and spinning her around. And everything she didn't want to know stared her straight in the face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, as he cupped one hand around her face in a gesture of care. Was he capable of caring? He couldn't believe he was touching her when just a few weeks ago he would have sworn he wouldn't come within ten feet of her.

She used her hand to wrench his hand from its touch on her face. "Don't touch me!"

"What's going on?"

A tear escaped from the corner of her eye and tricked helplessly down her cheek. "You saw it all."

Yes, he did see it all, but he didn't understand it. He didn't understand any bit of it. He was just as confused as she was, although they were different - he wanted to know the truth while she shied away from it.

"Do you want to talk?" Did he just offer to discuss this with her? He couldn't remember the last time he was so kind. But this wasn't just her problem. It was his problem too, at least the way he saw it. And besides, he wanted answers to the millions of questions inside his mind.

"It's none of your business," she snapped at him bitterly. "Why don't you leave me alone and go screw someone?"

Ouch, that actually hurt. That was all she'd ever think of him, wasn't it? He'd prove her wrong - one day he'd prove her wrong. Wait, why the hell did he even care? He didn't care, he really didn't. Or did he? He hated the way she thought of him - as if he was just another disgusting insect.

"Do you think that she really was your - "

"No!" Hermione cried, before he had a chance to finish his question. She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to hear the truth in his question. So she hadn't let him finish it.

He tried to take a different approach, being careful with his words. "What if she was your - "

She slapped him. She hadn't meant it, though. She just didn't want to hear it - and she could have done anything to keep herself from hearing those words.

Draco Malfoy hadn't cared when she had slapped him that first time weeks ago. Okay, so he had cared - but not in that way. He had cared about his reputation and that was about all. But this time, her slap stung and burned into him. It was just another slap, but it was too different.

She regretted doing it and she looked truly sorry. She told herself she would continue in a more contained, and not as loud, voice. The reason why she didn't want to - that she was afraid to - talk in such a voice before was because she was afraid her emotions would take over. When she screamed and belted her words out, they were forceful and gave her a sense of control. But if she talked quietly, then her voice would shake, and she didn't want to break down and cry again. At least not in front of him. She didn't want to show him how weak she could be.

"She never had any children," Hermione said, her voice trembling. That's what Professor McGonagall had said, wasn't it? And the professor knew too well to be wrong. At least that's what Hermione made herself believe.

"Not everything is recorded," Draco said carefully. "My mother always told me that many things escape the Ministry's eyes. That's how everything related to the dark arts almost never reaches the Ministry."

And then Narcissa's words came back to her.

There are some things that should never be spoken...

What if this was one of them? No, Hermione told herself. It couldn't be, it just couldn't be. She wasn't pretty - she didn't even look like the girl for goodness sakes!

Hermione took a deep breath and assured herself that everything was all right. "My mother is Elizabeth Granger and she loves me."

"Ever wonder why?" he asked, cocking his eyebrow, the arrogance in his voice taking over. "Ever wonder why she loves you so much?"

"Because I was her miracle child!" Hermione replied furiously, almost yelling at him now. "Because she couldn't have any children and - " voice faltered when she realized what she had just said and that she had been lured into his trap.

"'Miracles' only exist to cover the truth," Draco said, staring serenely into her angry eyes. "And the pendant - "

"It doesn't mean anything," she said firmly, although her voice was shaking again.

Without hesitation, she reached both of her hands around the back of her neck and attempted to unfasten the chain from her neck. When the clasp wouldn't come undone, she reached with one hand around to the front of the chain where the pendant sat and tugged it off. The delicate chain broke and came away in her hand.

Hermione looked at the chain and the pendant and almost regretted it. She had had it since she was a child and now she had broken it. The thought didn't last very long.

She hurled the necklace as far as she could, over-twisting her arm so that her muscle stretched painfully. It hit the stone wall somewhere off in the distance and the sound pierced into her heart.

"You can have it!" she cried and the tears began to fall freely now. "Anyone can have it! It doesn't mean anything! It doesn't mean anything."

Without another word, she turned and ran as fast as she could - away from him, away from everything, but most of all, away from the truth.

He watched her retreating back as she sprinted down the corridor and disappeared from his sight. He didn't understand anything. He didn't understand how she felt. But he could tell that it was hurting her.

If it was in any other situation, he would have been more than ecstatic to see Hermione Granger cry. She always acted so confident, so proud of her intelligence, and it annoyed him to no end. Just a few days ago, he would have given anything to see her break down and cry, to finally admit that she wasn't all that. It would have been his greatest triumph. However, when he just did, it wasn't so great anymore. He never imagined it to be this way. He didn't think he'd ever seen anyone looking so broken in his life.

God, why the hell was she being so damn stupid? He couldn't understand why she would refuse to see it. Any outsider could see what she was refusing to see. Her stubborn nature was beginning to irritate him. Fine, if that was the way she wanted it, that was fine with him. He didn't care. She could go on believing whatever she wanted for as long as she wanted - he didn't give a damn.

He turned around and walked slowly the other way. Suddenly, the unmistakable glittering of a pendant on a chain caught his eye. He bent down to pick it up and held it up in his hands to see it.

The silver chain didn't lose its luster and the pendant still shone beautifully, but with almost an indescribable sadness.

~*~

"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry asked with concern as he stared into the blank face of his best friend.

Hermione woke from her daze and forced a weak smile onto her face. "I'm fine. Really."

Ron didn't seem convinced. "Was it Snape?"

"No, no," Hermione replied, sighing and running a hand through her hair. "That matter with the test was completely resolved."

"Really? How'd you do it?"

She didn't know if she should tell them the truth. The truth was that she had approached Snape about the test thinking that he'd eat her alive. But to her surprise, he said he fully understood - that Malfoy had told him it was a misunderstanding and he wanted to leave it just at that. Therefore, he was allowing her to retake the test.

She didn't like the fact that Malfoy had talked to Snape about it. Now she felt like she owed him something and that was the last feeling she ever wanted to feel. She felt like she was in his debt now, and it didn't help the mood that she was already in.

Hermione couldn't tell this to her friends - what would they think if they knew that Malfoy had helped her out? They'd think there was something going on between them and then what if they found about the whole Aurora business? No, she wouldn't have it.

"He says I can retake it." It was the truth - just with some other facts omitted. But she couldn't believe she was lying - no, it was just omitting details - to her best friends. She couldn't remember the last time she'd told them anything other than the truth. She sighed unhappily and her friends noticed.

"Was it - it was Malfoy, again, wasn't it?"

She shook her head. "No. It's nothing."

"Tell us!" Lavender chorused. "You've helped me out so much this year. Please, let me help you too. Tell me what's wrong."

"Don't worry about me," Hermione said, placing her head down on the table.

"Hermione," Lavender stressed, "you always told me to be strong for myself. And now I'm telling you to be strong for yourself."

"Tell us what it is," Harry said, placing his hand over hers. "We promise we won't tease you a bit."

"No," Hermione replied softly. "It's nothing. I've just been having a bit of trouble, that's all."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me, it's that essay again, isn't it? I've found plenty of information on Lily - but that's probably because she was Head Girl. She was famous."

Hermione wanted to tell him to shut up. She wanted to tell him everything that McGonagall had told her. Damn, it was too tempting. But she couldn't tell. Professor McGonagall had trusted her with this. She had to keep her mouth shut. But damn, it was so hard. It was so damn hard.

But wait, why did she feel the need to tell Ron off anyway? Had she wanted to try to defend Aurora? No, she thought stubbornly to herself. Why the hell would she try to defend someone who didn't mean a thing to her? And yes, Aurora didn't mean a thing to her - not a thing at all.

"You're right," she said, lifting her head off the table and staring him straight in the eye. "Lily was a wonderful person. She loved her son."

"Doesn't everybody love their child?" Harry asked absent-mindedly.

Hermione looked down and tried to pretend that his comment didn't affect her. "Unfortunately not."

"You sound depressed," Ron said, making a face. "I'm sorry for rubbing in the fact that I can find a lot more information than you can."

"Is that it?" Harry asked, turning to Hermione. "Still can't find anything?"

There was a big sigh and her friends could tell that there was something beyond the essay that bothered their friend. Hermione shook her head sadly and seemed to stare past them into infinity.

"I've found too much."

Hermione stood up from her seat and left the Great Hall, leaving her friends staring after her and bewildered by her words.

~*~

She was just wandering aimlessly around the halls of Hogwarts, trying to get her mind cleared from all thoughts.

She asked herself one question - what if it was true? What if she really wasn't Hermione Granger? No, no, she wouldn't think about that. She wouldn't believe it.

And she wondered how she would be able to finish her essay now. She didn't want to look at another picture of Aurora ever again. She didn't want to know anything about the woman. She didn't want to have anything to do with her.

But then how would she finish the essay for Binns? Would she be willing to accept a bad mark? No, she wouldn't - she wouldn't do anything of the sort. She would finish the essay even if it killed her.

She didn't believe anything about anything anymore. The pendant - well, that was just a coincidence. Billions of people around the world probably had the same pendant and there was nothing special about hers.

She had had it for as long as she could remember. And it always seemed to protect her with some invisible magical charm. She couldn't describe the actual feeling. It had been a present from her parents, she had always assumed.

Her parents loved her so much. How could she doubt that they were not her own? Her mother would probably laugh at her if she suggested that they were not her real parents. Her parents loved her too much for her to be anyone but their real daughter.

They had always given her anything she could possibly want - they had succumbed to every request she made. Sometimes it even surprised her how willingly they gave her everything. They wanted to keep her happy forever.

She never understood why they always spoiled her so much. During grade school, she'd hear complaints from lots of students in her class about how their parents wouldn't give them anything. She always thought the reason why she got everything was because her parents could afford it.

They never gave her anything that was less than the best. If she wanted new book they would go and buy her the best edition of the book and in some cases, buy her every different edition of the book while other parents might buy their children secondhand copies instead. If she wanted a new television, her parents would buy her the best brand, the newest and best in the stores.

They wanted the best for her - there was never a "no." The only thing that her parents didn't like though, was when she left for Hogwarts every year. They said they didn't like how she would have to leave them for almost a year. They said the summer wasn't enough time to spend with their only daughter.

It almost seemed like they didn't ever want her to leave them, ever. They wanted to keep her around forever. Keep her as a child forever so they would always have her there with them. They were afraid she would leave them one day and never come back, Hermione realized. For what reason she never knew and never pursued.

She hadn't ever noticed it before, but now she did. She realized how scared they were all the time. When she was six years old she said she wanted to go to Africa and be a doctor there to help all the sick people and her parents had practically a heart attack. She hadn't known it then, but now she knew it was because they were scared - they were scared to lose her. And she didn't know why. What kind of parents would be scared that their child might leave them? What kind of parents would think that? What kind of child would leave her parents?

And then when she had received her letter of acceptance to Hogwarts, her parents had been surprised, yes, but were unusually calm about it. There had been no lineage of magic blood in her family before her.

She found this all to be quite strange. What reason had her parents to think that she would leave them? That was something that she would never do - they had raised her and brought her up and loved her. She loved them.

And she knew exactly why. She knew what caused their fear of losing their daughter. She knew everything now. But she wished she didn't. She wished that that name had never come out of the hat.

And she couldn't deny it any longer - she had to think about it. Why had that name picked her? Was it just a mere coincidence? Yes, she had told herself. Aurora Riviera had nothing to do with her - nothing at all. But she couldn't deny the connections any longer - she couldn't let herself be blinded forever.

Everything she had believed in, everything she had known was the truth, she realized, was all a lie. She didn't know what to believe anymore. She didn't know how to feel anymore. Through the past few days, she had gone through more emotions than most people did in their whole life.

She told herself that she had to admit it - she had to see the truth. Taking a deep breath she forced herself to see it.

Aurora Riviera is my mum, she forced herself to think. There, she had done it. She had finally done it.

And then everything, every emotion encompassed her. She didn't know how to feel or what to feel. All she knew was that there was something pent up inside her that she couldn't describe. It was just this burning in her soul that controlled her.

Was she supposed to have this sudden newfound love for the woman? The woman who didn't want me, Hermione thought bitterly. She could never respect that woman. Never, never, ever.

Her mother was Elizabeth Granger - the woman who had brought her up and cared for her and loved her. The woman who had loved her through everything. The woman who had cared for every scrape she had gotten from climbing trees. The woman who had taught her to read, to love books. The woman who had encouraged her through every step of life. The woman who Hermione knew would always be there for her no matter what.

Aurora was nothing compared to this strong woman.

Yet Hermione couldn't forget the young woman's cherished smiles. The happiness she saw in her eyes. The love that she saw in her eyes in the photograph where she was holding her young infant. The way her arms were wrapped with love around the small child. The way that the child smiled so joyously in her mother's arms.

Hermione wondered if she could ever smile that way again.

She thought about the other photograph in the alumni book. That was the woman who had given up the title of Head Girl. The woman who would later give up her child. What kind of a woman was this?

Hermione didn't want to know. She didn't. But she knew that she had to know.

She didn't even realize where her wandering steps had led her until she was already there. It was Draco Malfoy's dorm room.

She knew exactly why she was there. She had to finish the essay. She needed the pictures from him. She wanted to find out more. And suddenly it wasn't all about the essay anymore - it was about herself. She had to do it - for herself. She put up a hesitant hand to knock.

The door swung open a moment later and she saw those silver-gray eyes she had tried to avoid the other day. He seemed genuinely surprised that she was here. She had seemed like the kind who wouldn't come within a hundred meters of his dormitory. Draco Malfoy raised his eyebrow and waited for her to speak. He wanted to know what this was all about.

"I want the pictures," she demanded looking completely inanimate.

He had never seen anyone so much in pain in his life and he wanted to help her out. However, he couldn't forget the way she had treated him the other day. She was just too damn stubborn and it bothered him. She had refused his help then, so why should he help her now? "No."

"Give them to me," she said with a cold commanding quality in her voice.

He didn't answer, but merely reached a hand to push close the door. He was going to ignore her. However, she wasn't about to give in so easily. Before the door could shut completely, she put up her hand to stop it.

"I need them," she said, and her eyes pleaded with him, waging a war with his own silver ones. "Please."

He couldn't say no. Damn he was turning too soft. "Fine."

He gave in to her, but his voice was still hard and arrogant.

She saw him walk to one side of his room and pick up the large brown duffel bag from the other day. Then he came to the door again.

"Here." He handed it to her.

She nodded her thanks - she didn't think she'd be able to say anything.

"Wait," he said before she could turn around and walk away. Damn his curiosity. "What do you want with them? Have you finally - "

"I've got an essay for Binns I've got to finish," she said, cutting him off.

"The pictures won't write your essay for you," he said, trying to dig.

"I know," she said and then paused hesitantly. "I'm going to Professor McGonagall and see if she can tell me anything."

Draco was surprised at how calm she was - she different than how she had been the other day. Maybe she was just hiding her feelings, he thought.

"I'll come with you," he said, stepping out of the door toward Hermione.

She stepped back. "No."

"Why not?"

"It's my own business." Her voice was cold again.

He sighed. "I told you a long time ago that I was too involved to step out now. It's my business too."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"Yes, but it won't kill me."

She didn't reply to that, but simply began to walk away, hoping he'd just leave it at that. However, Draco followed by her side.

"Granger," he said softly, trying to be nice.

She turned around with an annoyed expression on her face. "What?"

"Here," he said, fishing something out of his pocket. It was the chain with the pendant. He took her hand into his and placed the chain into her palm. "I think this belongs to you."

Her mask melted as he pressed the pendant into her palm. He closed her hand around the chain and pendant and patted it. She loved how the cool silver of the chain felt pressed into her palm and how the pendant glowed warmly.

She hadn't meant to throw it the other day and had sorely regretted it afterwards. It was a part of her and when she no longer had it, she didn't feel whole anymore. She held the chain to her heart and her eyes brimmed with tears.

"Thanks," she managed to say, smiling gratefully at him.

"I fixed the chain for you," he said. "Put it on."

She nodded and put the chain around her neck, having a difficult time securing the clasp.

"I'll fasten it for you," he said, moving behind her and taking the ends with his hands, replacing hers.

When he had secured the chain, she flipped her hair out from underneath it and nodded her thanks to him.

"It suits you," he said, noticing how the pendant now shimmered so merrily from her neck.

Would she say it? Yes, she would. "It's a part of me."

He stared at her, surprised. "So you've finally admitted it?"

"Yes," Hermione said, and swallowed hard, trying to rid herself of the lump in her throat. "I suppose I have."

She took a few uncertain steps forward and then stopped. She turned around slowly and Draco saw the tears in her eyes that were threatening to fall.

"And I don't care about anything else," she said, her face contorting as she let the tears fall. Screw pride. "But I just want to know one thing."

She tried to avert her eyes and bit her lip.

"Did she love me?"

She broke into involuntary sobs as the tears pelted her robes, soiling them with those innocent droplets.

Draco didn't know how to answer. He'd never dealt with anyone so emotional in his life that he didn't what to say. But he did know the answer. "Of course she did."

"That's what I want to believe, but I can't," Hermione said through the sobs that attacked her body.

"Didn't you see the way she held you in that photograph? Didn't you see the way she looked at you?" he asked, knowing that she would recall it. "She loved you so much."

"Then why did she leave me?" Hermione yelled angrily as she went to wipe the tears with her sleeve. "Why the hell didn't she want me?"

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "Perhaps she had her troubles."

Hermione shook her head sadly as she felt her legs go numb. "What kind of a mother would do that to her child?"

When there was no answer from Draco, she continued. "Did she think I was too ugly? Did she think, 'Oh, look how hideous she is, what would people think of me if they knew she was my daughter?'"

He reached out and grabbed her arm, and then silently questioned his sudden action. "No. You're wrong. I've never seen a mother love her child so much as the mother I saw in the photograph the other day."

She emitted a low, bitter chuckle. "I didn't want to have anything to do with her. I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to believe anything of her."

Her chuckles quieted to sobs again as she buried her face in one hand.

"I don't even know what to believe anymore. Who the bloody hell am I? I can't be just Hermione Granger again. Not anymore."

"Why not?" he asked absently.

"Because I'm not Hermione Granger! I'm someone else. I'm someone who I don't know! I'm someone who I don't want to be!"

"You are whom you choose to be," he said, and she realized it was probably the most intelligent thing she'd ever heard him say. In some ways it gave her confidence. She'd never thought she'd see the day when something Draco Malfoy said would give her so much...comfort.

Yes, she was still Hermione Granger. She was going to be Hermione Granger no matter what. Forever.

"I don't even know what to believe anymore." Hermione looked completely crestfallen and sighed. "But, you're right. I am still Hermione Granger," she said with renewed confidence. "My mum named me Hermione. She said she'd always liked the name."

"I have one mother," Draco said. "But you - you have two mothers."

"No," Hermione replied, shaking her head stubbornly. "I only have one real mum and her name is Elizabeth Granger."

"And what about Aurora Riviera?"

"I have no respect for her. I can't respect a woman who never loved me or cared for me."

"You might be wrong about her," he suggested.

"I'm not. I will never think of her as anything other than a history assignment. She is nothing more than that. She doesn't deserve my respect. A woman - no, a girl - like that doesn't deserve anything from me."

"That's not exactly a kind thing to say," Draco said, looking at her sternly.

Hermione glared at him. "What do you know about being kind?"

He ignored her and ventured into a new topic. "So are you going to write the rest of the essay pretending that you have no connection whatsoever to her?"

"Actually," Hermione said, taking a deep breath, "I-I want to meet her - I want to meet Aurora Riviera."

He stared blankly at her. "You want to what? You don't even know where she is now."

"That's why I'm going to ask Professor McGonagall," Hermione explained. "She's bound to know something about her whereabouts."

"Ah, I see," Draco said, nodding.

"I don't want anything from her. I just want to meet her - see what kind of a person she is."

"So you want an explanation?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, truly unsure. "I don't know if I want to know."

Soon, they reached the Transfiguration classroom and the two of them halted at the door. Hermione straightened her robes and tied her hair up.

"Do my eyes look red?" she asked Draco. "I don't want her to think I've been crying or anything."

He shook his head. "No, you look fine."

"I'm kind of nervous," she said, exhaling deeply.

"Don't be. I'll wait out here for you."

"Yes, and eavesdrop on me, won't you?" she teased.

She couldn't believe she was talking normally to Draco Malfoy - that she had been for the past few days. It had taken her until now to realize it. God, she still couldn't believe it. Just a few weeks ago, he had been the enemy. Not saying that he wasn't anymore, but it seemed like something had changed. Here she was having a normal conversation with Malfoy. Was she going crazy?

No, she wasn't. She and Draco Malfoy were speaking on normal terms. No insults thrown here and there. No sneers or arrogant snorts.

He knew too much. He knew too much about her. She couldn't believe that her worst enemy in the world knew the most terrible secret in her life. In normal circumstances, it should have been Harry and Ron in his place. But it just didn't work out that way. And now it was too late to get rid of him - much too late.

Not surprisingly, Draco Malfoy was thinking the exact same thing. He couldn't believe that he could be talking to this...mudblood. What shame. And it didn't even matter if Aurora Riviera really was her mother. She was brought up as a mudblood, and therefore would be one for the rest of her life. Once a mudblood, always a mudblood.

What would people think if they caught him talking to her? He cringed at the thought of his reputation. He'd be ruined.

But still, he was involved in this, and if it hadn't been for him breaking the frame, Hermione wouldn't have known anything. It was his fault. He didn't even know why he cared so much, but just that he did. He had been the catalyst to all the pain and confusion she was going through. And so he needed to support her the rest of the way, no matter how far the path was. It didn't look like it, but Draco Malfoy was actually very noble.

And besides, she wasn't half as bad as he thought she'd be. She was actually kind of interesting, he realized. There was too much mystery about her past and he was curious to know all of it. And her eyes, he thought, frowning. He wanted to know about that too.

Punching his arm playfully, and stirring his thoughts, Hermione turned the brass knob on the door and stepped in.

~*~

"Miss Granger?" said Professor McGonagall, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione hurried to the front of the professor's desk. "I'm sorry, professor, but I was wondering if I could ask you a few more questions?"

"Ah," she said, "you've caught me at the perfect time - I was just done grading the second years' papers. Pull over a chair and sit and we can talk."

Nodding, Hermione followed her orders and came back with a chair.

"So is this about the essay again?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. "Just a few more questions because the essay needs to be long and I haven't had any information besides what you told me last time."

"All right," the professor said, leaning into the back of her chair.

"When was her birthday and where was she born?" Hermione said glancing down at the list of questions she had prepared.

The professor shook her head. "I don't know -I don't know the small details."

"Oh," Hermione said, looking fairly disappointed.

"Anything else?"

"Dean mentioned that he was going to ask Dumbledore's permission to visit his alumni," she said, licking her lips slowly. "And I was wondering if I could do the same."

Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes, with what seemed like confusion. "You mean...?"

"I mean," Hermione said slowly, taking a deep breath, "do you think you could give me her address or help me find it?"

The professor looked perfectly started and her mouth was ajar. It took her a while to recover. "You mean, you don't know?"

"Don't know what?" asked Hermione, wrinkling her eyebrows and staring at the professor.

Professor McGonagall stared at Hermione with shock for a moment, almost as if she was trying to calculate her thoughts, and then sighed deeply.

"Aurora Riviera died sixteen years ago."

~*~

TBC

~*~

A/N: Yeah, as I said, nothing really happens in the chapter except for Hermione finds out that Aurora is dead (which all of you knew anyway, but Hermione didn't). It's seems kind of boring right now, but it should get more interesting later on as the plot unravels. Well, thanks for reading it. If you have time, drop a line. Have a good day, ciao!