Name: Chamber of Destinies

Author: Sweet-calmness

Genre: Romance/Action/Angst

Disclaimer: I own the plot, nothing more

Chapter 1

Hermione Granger woke up with a start, her hands clutching painfully onto her blankets. She seemed to have fallen off her bed sometime at night, for now she lay tangled up in her coverlet. She stood up somewhat shakily, and walked towards the window of her bedroom.

It was yet again, another dream. A dream that has been troubling Hermione since the day she arrived back home from school, Hogwarts, the famous school for witchcraft and wizardry. Hermione wasn't sure what it meant, the ghostly white chamber that seem to beckon her towards it every time she go into her unconscious mind.

Often, Hermione would hear loud roaring coming from the place, the ones that big cats would make. Weirdly enough, instead of being scared by the bawls, she was strangely comforted by it. It was there, waiting for her.

Hermione has never experienced anything similar to such thing before. At first she thought it might be a vision, but dumped the idea when an image of Professor Trelawney flew past her mind. After all, she's never got the material of a "true" seer, and wouldn't want to be anyway. Her life's occupation only consists of one thing - auror. Just to be with him. Of course, the "him" is Harry.

Hermione's lips curled into a smile at the thought of Harry. The 15 year old with the chaotic black hair and breath-taking green eyes has always been a Hermione's most favoured and loved friend.

He was one of the most important people in her life; - no- he is the most important person in her life. To bad he doesn't know it Hermione thought wryly. Harry was the boy-who-lived - famous Harry Potter with the scar on his head who will defeat the infamous You-Know-Who. The guy who saved her from the troll in her first year at Hogwarts, sat by her side during the time of her paralysis in the second, went to rescue Buckbeak and Sirius, Harry's godfather, from execution in the third, forced to become a champion for the goblet of fire, watched Sirius die from the hands of the death eaters last year. He was the most handsome guy in the school, and attracts girls more then her to books.

He would never like me. I'm just a nerdish bookworm that somehow ended up becoming his friend. I'm just his best friend, at the very most. I can't beat the other girls in the looks department.

How wrong she was. Over the holidays, Hermione has changed. She was a girl with the perfect features- slim waist, long legs, beautiful creamy skin (she got rid of the tan from France). Her hair was no longer bushy, but golden wavy tresses that framed the delicate features of her face. Her honey brown eyes were still like before, but with a darker glow, caused from the many sleepless nights she's been having.

She was the prettiest girl in town, or that's what everybody says, except for Hermione that is. She's oblivious to the rumours, since she's been keeping away from the outside world. Sirius's death seemed to have taken its toll upon her too. She had always felt a connection with the older man. It's not just that he's Harry's godfather. He's - close. Hermione doesn't know it, but he's anything more then close.

Hermione doesn't know how long she stood by the window side, staring out at the silent streets of that September evening. She heard a distant yawn from her ginger cat, Crookshanks. He seemed to be sad too.

The streets were deserted, but Hermione's eyes caught a glimpse of a tiny movement at the very end of her street. As the form slowly approaches, Hermione's eyes widened, clearly surprised with a look of horror along with it. The form was a tall hooded stranger, dark shadow crossed over its bent face, preventing her to see. Her hand flew over to her mouth, praying over and over that the stranger isn't who she thinks he is.

Her prayers were corrupted when the stranger brought out a wand from its robes, and pointed at the fence door, which opened with a jet of blue light and a loud screeching. He walked up half way towards the door of her house and looked up. The streets light showered his face, and Hermione screamed.

Lord Voldemort stood on the lawn, his ugly lifeless face looking up towards Hermione's second story window. He clearly knew that she was there, and who she is. Hermione could hear her parents waking up, shouting at her. They reached her bedroom and ran to her side, asking her what was wrong. Hermione ignored the questions and continued to look down at the creature. Her brown eyes met the blood shotted red ones.

It was then that the 15 year old snapped. Scrambling around, she got a handful of wizarding coins from her drawer, her wand, and Crookshanks - who hissed from the sudden movement. Quickly, she told her parents to get ready. Instead of listening to their daughter, they looked at each other darkly, and shook their heads.

'Mom, Dad! What's going on?' They both shook their heads again. Hermione was getting quite impatient.

'Mom, Dad! We have to go now!' Mr. Granger went down to his knees.

'Honey, we've been keeping something from you for a very long time, because we want you to be safe. Now it is time for you to fulfil your duty as a person, as a witch, and as a -' A boom was heard from downstairs.

'We can't say anything more. You'll find out soon enough Hermione. You have to get out here now.' Hermione made a protest, but Mrs. Granger put a finger over the girl's lips.

'No honey. If we follow, we'll all get caught, and then nobody well get out alive. We have a duty to protect you, as your guardian. As your...parents.' Steps could be heard coming towards the bedroom.

'Hermione, go!' Her father gave her a push. Just then Lord Voldemort appeared at the doorway. His red eyes glinted menacingly under the moonlight.

'Heerrrrmiiooonneee...' He looked over at the Grangers, and his gray cracked lips turned up into a snarl. Mrs. Granger gave Hermione a little push, and got out something from her pyjamas. It was a letter. She pushed the letter into her daughter's hands, and for a moment Hermione felt a floating sensation. The last thing she heard before she blacked out was the horrid screaming coming from her parents, and a wave of jet green light.

A beam of sunlight warmed up Hermione's face, and she groaned miserably from her laying position. Slowly she got up, and rubbed her eyes from the fatigue. She bolted up when realization of what happened in the evening before registered in her mind.

Voldemort...my parents! She looked frantically for any signs of people, but she was absolutely deserted, with no sound or change in the place, apart from the rare chirping coming from the birds and the frequent blow of the wind. On the floor, she noticed the object which her mother has hastily pushed into her hands. Picking it up, she opened it, and took out a letter.

To my dearest Hermione

My sweetest Hermione, I write this now; at this moment with you by my side. You're smiling up at me, only 6 months into the world and already so meaningful. If you're reading this, then it can only mean one thing. I'm dead.

It wasn't my intentions to get killed, and I would give everything to be by your side. You are the hope of my life, the only one that can maintain the family line. This may all be confusing to you, but the truth is, you're not a Granger.

Your real name is Hermione Black Gryffindor. You are the last, and only one that can continue the Gryffindor blood line.

Your father is Sirius Black, a man that has been convicted into Azkaban for something he did not commit. He is best friends with James Potter, who married my best friend, Lily Evans. They have a son, Harry Potter, who is around 6 months older than you, I should think. There was an attack on their house 3 days before, and both James and Lily were killed. Harry lived, somehow and Sirius was accused of selling the family out to Voldemort. But I know he didn't do it. I just know.

You were the joy of my life Hermione, my sunshine. I didn't tell your father of your existence because I know that he has too much on his hands. I still wasn't going to name you yet, hoping that when Voldemort has gone, your father and I can name you together. That did not come to pass when your father was put into Azkaban. I decided to name you Hermione, after your great-great-something grandmother. Gryffindor is your last name because this would maintain the family's name in existence, and Black is your middle name, for the sake of your father.

They were dark times Hermione. The only ones in our family is my father, Damian Gryffindor, you and I. Every one passed away a long time ago. We were one of the main targets for Voldemort, since we were the only family that is still in relations with the four founders of Hogwarts. We were also the most powerful wizarding family, being the direct descendant of Godric Gryffindor and Merlin, which is a real threat to the dark arts.

Your grandfather died, sacrificing himself by warning me before Voldemort could get to us. We were then the only ones left alive that were related to Gryffindor or Merlin. The only one I had was you then, and you were only a baby.

At times I thought of breaking into Azkaban and freeing your father, but your safety was on the line, so I dropped the idea. I knew that if I was to keep you safe, I was to give you up. It was hard, knowing that you would grow up in a lie. My love for you told me the right thing to do, and I give in to my fate.

I am handing you to my closest muggle friend, Rose Granger. She and her husband has always wanted a child, but could not have one after Rose had aborted her first child birth, which had lead her to her infertility. I know that they would love you as their own.

Knowing that you were safe, I was ready to take on my challenge as a Gryffindor. I'm not sure when I died, or how, but I hope I made a difference to the fight.

I'm not sure what happened to your father, but I love him with all my heart, and hope to be with him again. Whether in life or death, we will always be a family, no matter what your last name is, where your father is, or my death.

You should be of age now. 18 I presume. Either that or the worst has happened, and Voldemort has claimed himself two more lives of my friends. I hope that is not the case, but what ever happened Hermione, remember that you have a mother that loved you, a father that would love you had he known you - a family that would do anything for you.

Just remember Hermione. Never give up, you're a Gryffindor by blood and by heart, and you have a great responsibility for the world. Go find your destiny and become who you are meant to be, not Hermione the muggle born. Not Hermione Granger from Gryffindor, but Hermione Black Gryffindor, the heir to Hogwarts and magic, the most powerful witch or wizard that ever lived. No matter what choices you make, what you do, we will always be proud of you.

Signed - Gwen Katherine Gryffindor

31 July 1987

'I am the daughter of Gwen Katherine Gryffindor and Sirius Black. I am related to Godric Gryffindor....this could not be happening.' Hermione whispered.

Hermione dropped the letter, and her legs gave away under her. Thoughts of disbelief rushed into her mind, but are instantly snuffed out when confirmation dawned upon her. Now she understood why she is so different from her parents, from looks to personalities. She now know why she keep on getting the feeling that for some reason, she did not belong, and felt safe at home in Hogwarts, especially beside the old moving painting of Godric Gryffindor on the 7th floor. She now knows why Sirius was so close to her, not as a friend, but as a father, and why Crookshanks was so keen on protecting him in the third year.

A pang of guilt and envy rushed to the 16 year old girl. Guilt from the loose of all the chances where she could've spent with her father, and envy from the fact that Harry was the one closest to Sirius, not herself.

Hermione shook her head in disgust with herself. None of them knew anyway, and I never knew either, so I could not blame them. I still cannot believe. Why me? It's Harry that's supposed to have all this glory, all this power, all the destiny. Why me?

Author's message: Third time's the charm, they always say!