Once again the disclaimer:  I bow in awe of J.K. Rowling genius.  All characters and things in the Harry Potter world are hers. Please do not sue me.  I make no money and you would undoubted piss readers off if you delay in continuing the saga as we anxiously await your next book.  I have cited other fan fiction articles which have inspired me to incorporate their ideas in this story as well.  I encourage you to read them.  Please read and review. Thanks~ Leyna

Chapter 5: Family Heirloom

Hermione had to beg, but Professor McGonagall had already recently made her Diagon Alley trip earlier. So McGonagall requested that nape accompany her. Ugh. Lessons with Snape six times a week. She was sure he wouldn't be happy about it either. She needed freedom, autonomy, and space to investigate. She wasn't sure he'd give her that much room.

He begrudgingly went as Professor McGonagall's behest.

Snape wasn't known as a 'greasy git' for nothing.  Most thought it described his physical appearance, a tall imposing threat of a man with stringy black hair long affected by damp conditions of his dungeons, simmering cauldrons, and his pacing around.  Perhaps if he turned quickly enough and caught is own reflection he might scare himself.  Instead the adjective revealed more about his attitude, his slippery nature which so adequately described the cunning Slytherin.  He snuck quietly, skulked even all around the school, scaring children.  He was sly and had a razor for a tongue, which both dealt painful sarcastic insults and measured out a subtle manipulation of words.  Hermione remembered his comments to 'that Unbridge woman' the previous year. One had to listen carefully for hidden meanings in the spy's phrases.  No wonder he was largely misunderstood.  Snape did want or need to be understood by anyone.  Carefully chosen words ensured he would remain an unapproachable mystery.

One would think most persons who sought out the rewards of a teaching career would actually enjoy it somehow.  His teaching methods didn't seem to hint as his motivation for the choice.  He was an excellent teacher though, in spite of—well, maybe because of his attitude toward his students. They took him seriously.  He challenged and expected more from his students and they rose to that challenge more often than not.  There were perhaps only one or two students who showed exceptional promise.  He preferred to have his summers to himself for private research, and here she was, weeks early and already monopolizing a lot of his time.  He hoped Granger wouldn't squander it with endless questions and a lack of proper focus.  Since he had been called back into service by Professor Dumbledore, and also with Voldemort's return Snape was busier than ever, even on the summer break.  Break indeed.  He quickened his pace as he picked up his feet, trying not to scuff his feet angrily against the ground in frustration over his babysitting assignment.

"Miss Granger, do not dawdle." He said to her as her legs protested at his enormous strides. She was actually almost jogging to keep up. Snape always walked with a purpose, and he wasn't making it easy for her to follow him.

Professor Snape trusted Granger either trusted his gifted and disciplined student or dumped her, leaving her in Flourish and Blotts, instructing her to remain there until his return from Knockturn Alley, the seedy shady street filled with shops dedicated to the darker side of magic.

When she entered slowly it was like déjà vu, she felt the brass handle underneath her fingertips and heard the tinkling bell signal her arrival to the salesperson.

Snape watched her through the window briefly from the street noticing her trancelike quality before setting to his errand.

She felt her body rise up the wooden steps to the left of the entrance. They creaked under her feet remembering the weight of many customers before. The bookcase at the top. She rested her hands lovingly on the bindings. She would be sure to know what she was looking for when she saw it. This was an older section of the store, antique books were here, many undisturbed with dust settling on the tops of them, yellowing the pages…In a section about genealogy, there was a space, a hole where the book had been. She was sure of it. A card was there. Odd for someone to place this here. The business card was not magical. No moving pictures. It's for an antiquities dealer in Paris. Hermione pocketed it.

A formal and rigid woman stood in an old style plaid dress wearing the clichéd spectacles of a librarian. "May I help you dear? Oh my! You're the young lady who fell here! Oh you took such a nasty plunge, so glad to see you so much better. Are you looking for something?"

"Yes, I am feeling much better thank you. And I came back for the book I was holding when I fell."

"Oh my, yes. Do you remember which one that was?"

"Well, that would be convenient wouldn't it? But I can't recall. It was up on that shelf. There's a gap there where the book is supposed to be." She pointed and a light of comprehension went off in the woman's mind.

"Excuse me one moment would you dear? Follow me. I'd like to check our reshelving items. Hmmm…" Behind the register she perused a small cart bearing stacks of new books, looking nothing like what she'd expected the book that old would've resembled. The vendor checked her ledger from two days ago and noted the item. "I'm sorry, we sold it, I believe shortly after you left. The name of the book isn't written here, that's peculiar. The man we sold it to…an L. McLeod. I'm very sorry. If you find the name of the book, we will definitely try and locate it for you even if it is out of print."

Except Hermione had a distinct feeling it was the only copy in existence. She sighed, and thanked the disappointed clerk for her time. Flourish and Blotts had lost a potential customer.

She headed toward the door to look out for Snape when she ran into none other than Lucius Malfoy.

She should've guessed he would be out of Azkaban in a matter of months. She shouldn't be surprised that such a powerful man would have no embarrassment, no hesitation to show his face in such a public place after last year. He was a Death Eater and a wicked bigoted man. He sported bleach white hair and a taut angular face. It looked like a forced smile was stretched over his features as he regarded Hermione Granger with both contempt and intrigue.

She felt uncomfortable, violated by his stare as he studied her mature features. Please Snape, come now.

"Miss Granger, how lovely to see you again. It seems like only yesterday that you were collapsed on the floor of the Ministry of Magic." His haughty tone but revolting.

"Let's skip the formality. I hardly think you are concerned for my welfare, Lucius." She managed in her best adult voice. She was almost shaking.

"That's Mr. Malfoy to you, or Master if you prefer." He said with a vile sneer.

"I will not honor you with any title. I don't see how you could carry yourself." She bit each word out as a curse.

"Prison was dull, Miss Granger. I can think of much better ways of spending my time." And he brushed past her, his cloak grazing her shoulder a bit too close. She shuddered as she exited, ignoring her promise to Snape, just wanting to get as much distance between her and Malfoy as possible.

Snape had returned, parcels in hand.

Immediately the harsh lecture began, then changed. "Miss Granger, I thought I told you to stay inside. You look… positively white." He glanced over her shoulder to see the back of Lucius Malfoy's head and it registered. He grabbed her arm and yanked her forcibly down the street before Malfoy could see them together. He took her aside into the next shop lobby. "I apologize, it would not do well to be seen with you under the circumstances."

"I understand," she said shakily. "Can we return to Hogwarts now?"

"Of course." They traveled by Floo to Hogsmeade and walked to Hogwarts after making a brief stop in Honeydukes. She purchased iced chocolate mocha and felt better.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked innocently trying to make small conversation to lessen the silence.

"Well, sort of. I was hoping for more, but… well, it's a start."

Once inside the castle Snape asked the lingering question, "What did Lucius say to you?"

She had almost forgotten how they were on a first name basis. Snape and Lucius had gone to school together, and he was a Death Eater. She didn't answer, biting her tongue at first. Her right eye twitched with the return of her previous fury. With piercing eyes she commented, "He is a wicked bastard. Please tell me if he comes here. I have no desire to cross paths with him again if I can help it. Thank you for escorting me, Professor." And she excused herself.

Snape was left to ponder the vulgar choice of words which were uttered by the ever proper Granger girl and realized she had not answered his question. What had he said? Wicked bastard…you have no idea.

She went to the owlery to write to her parents, but was puzzled as to her question. She left without writing and decided to sleep on it.

Hermione decided in the morning to see Professor Dumbledore about going home for a day and returning. He arranged a portkey for her to go briefly and return.

******

"Mom? Mom, are you home?"

"Hermione! Are you ok? Professor McGonagall sent us a note saying you fell." She studied her daughter, checking her over. "You look better. More rested than we saw you last."

"Yes, I'm fine now. Madame Pomfrey healed my arm and I slept for a long time. Aside from a nasty bump on my head I'm fine."

Hermione's mom was relieved. A dentist by profession, Wendy Granger was a slender, tall woman with light brown curly hair and a kind face. She loved Hermione, but had felt somewhat shut out of many aspects of her life since the acceptance letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She knew nothing of the danger. Hermione never disclosed it. But mother's have their own instincts and knew her daughter was destined to pursue things out of her realm of 'Muggle' understanding. And that those things would be important.

She knew Hermione was here to discuss one of those important things and Wendy felt she had perhaps avoided too long the inevitable discussion which might push her daughter further away from her.

"Mom, did we ever have anyone in our family who could seethe future?"

Silence. "Hermione, I have something I need to tell you and I don't want to you be angry and run out."

Hermione was already panicking.

She followed her mother to her bedroom and they sat on the edge of her bed. "Your father and I... we love you so much. You are the best and most precious thing to us, and it was so hard to watch you leave." She stopped and regained her composure which was already starting to crack. "We tried so hard to protect you. We wanted so much, to have our own child but we couldn't… you are our daughter and we love you. But…"

"I'm adopted." It wasn't a question. Hermione said it with such clarity it was like she had known all along. She had expected a windfall but only gained understanding.

Her mother nodded. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you before. It's just, we're not magical, and we didn't know you would be either, but I guess it makes more sense now." Tears streamed down her mother's face and Hermione hugged her. After a minute or two, her mother released her. "I have something to show you."

Hermione knew as she reached for it. The parchment. She had really dreamed of it all summer, it just seemed so ordinary in comparison to the larger dream. From her mother's hope chest she pulled a parchment and a small box inlaid with mother of pearl. Hermione broke the metallic seal and unrolled the parchment which read:

My Beloved daughter, you are now on an important journey. In reading this you are accepting a path laid before you that I and your grandmother and her mother before her and so on have taken for generations. You were not abandoned. I selected this family to raise you in safety and love. Use your gifts wisely and discover the heritage you should be proud to carry.

This burden will not be light but I promise it will bear much fruit.

You are the last of our family line. Find your roots and the answers you seek will come.

Much love ~ L

I'm the last… no one left in my family is living? She opened the ornate box which held a brass seal. She picked it up and examined it carefully. It was quite old and this was her only clue to her family line. Well, perhaps not the only one. One L. McLeod came to mind. She replaced it in the box and hugged her mother again.

"Mom, I'm sorry you felt you couldn't tell me earlier. But somehow, I know this sounds weird, but I do understand. I'm not angry. I will always love you."

"Oh, Hermione. We love you so much and we are just so proud of you." They hugged and Ms. Granger cried a sigh of relief at the secret being out.

They talked for a long time and Hermione confided a few things, testing the waters. Her mom asked if, when she was ready, Hermione could share more about her secret world so they could feel more included. Hermione vowed to do so and invite her friends over the holidays if it could be done safely. Dr. Granger knew Hermione wasn't telling her everything and she worried for her, but knew she could do nothing to protect her daughter by preventing her from returning to school.

Before her return to Hogwarts, Hermione left a message for a certain antique dealer regarding the identification of a specific crest. She requested a reply by mail to a post office box. Her Mom could then retrieve her mail and Floo it to Dumbledore. More than ever she wanted a peek at that book.