A/N: Ho hum… there are two sections in this chapter because the second one is so short. Enjoy and review!
Over the next few days, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco all sat in Hermione's hospital room during the day, waiting for the tie to come when the healer would release her from the hospital.
Hermione was feeling loads better and would get out of bed to wander around the hospital with the three boys.
"This is all Fred's fault," Draco commented one evening while Hermione was flipping through Witch Weekly magazine.
Ron immediately took offense, "Is not!" he retorted.
Hermione put the magazine down on her bed-side table with a huff, "It's not all Fred's fault, Draco, but it is partly his fault," she said, significantly looking at Ron.
"How is it his fault?" Ron angrily said at the same time Draco asked, "How is it not his fault?"
Hermione hesitated for a moment and willed herself to be patient, "It's not all his fault because he's under Voldemort's control…or a Death Eater's," Draco and Ron gave an involuntary shiver at the name "Voldemort," but Ron more so than Draco, "But it was partially his fault because he was the one that did it physically," she calmly explained.
Draco seemed as if he had expected that answer while Ron's ears started to blush.
"But you're right, Ron," she continued, desperate to keep him from an outburst, "It's not his fault because he doesn't have control of himself."
"Sure," mumbled Ron, looking away.
Hermione's heart dropped. She hadn't meant to offend Ron, but the facts stood clear and she wasn't about to lie to herself and three other friends by pretending one thing had happened when in actuality something else had.
Two friends, Hermione corrected herself, Draco isn't exactly a friend.
Hermione suddenly had a random impulse to look at Harry and found he was looking back at her. When their eyes locked she knew they both knew what each other was thinking.
"We'll talk about it later," she quietly said, looking away.
"What?" Draco and Ron asked at the same time.
Since Draco's arrival Hermione had wanted to talk to each of them in turn because she had something to tell them and for a brief moment she thought about talking to them now. But just as the thought crossed her mind, a healer entered her room.
"There's an old m an to see you, miss," he said.
"Uh, send him in," she said, startled by his entrance.
At that moment Professor Dumbledore walked into the room, instructing the healer to leave them and shut the door on his way out.
Dumbledore stood at the end of Hermione's bed so the four of the could see him, "We are getting a legal port-key back to miss Granger's house. But," he continued, "before we go, I must take a few moments to explain a situation to you," he folded his hands in front of himself and looked at each on of them in turn. Once again Hermione couldn't help but notice that Harry didn't get as much as a glance while each of the others received a significant look from him. This troubled her greatly.
"Hermione, I have explained to your parents the current situation and they came to an agreement with it. Harry, Ron and Draco are to stay at your house until the start of the school year. Now, as far as Mr. Malfoy's random behaviors, I have a portion mix from Professor Snape himself."
Harry and Hermione both gave an involuntary, and apparently unnoticeable to Professor Dumbledore, shiver. Hearing Snape's name was almost like hearing Voldemort's name now and it was basically the same situation. Voldemort Hated Harry and wanted to kill him before Harry could do vica-verca. Snape hated Harry and given half the chance would also kill him. But no matter how similar these two men, if you could call them that, were, there was a slight difference.
Voldemort was looking for Harry to kill him.
Snape was trying to protect Harry from Voldemort.
"It's a mixture you take every morning and every night. Make sure the times you take it are consistent," he said, his voice cutting through Hermione's thoughts like a knife through water, "This vile," he continued, handing Draco a corked beaker filled with dark purple lumpy stuff, "Should last you until the school year. Then you can get a weekly dosage from Professor Snape at the end of every week."
"Yes sir," Draco uneasily replied, looking at his potion. It wasn't exactly what Hermione would call appealing.
"You will start first thing tomorrow morning. Hermione, you are well enough to walk around now, I suggest you stand up for this."
As Hermione stood up from her bed, Dumbledore reached into his robes and extracted a broken, plastic cup.
"In two minutes you four and I will be transported into Hermione's living room where her parents and another guest will be waiting. You need not be startled by this person's presence," he said, looking from Ron, to Harry and finally Hermione.
What in the world? Hermione's head reeled. He hadn't looked at Draco, which meant it would be someone he wouldn't be startled by. There was no way it could be his parents and certainly not Voldemort. Dumbledore wouldn't put Harry into danger like that.
"Who is it?" Hermione asked just as she felt her stomach jerk up and her feet leave the ground. Just as suddenly she found herself sitting on her living room floor with the others standing around her.
Draco helped her up and she found her parents, though no guests, sitting on the sofa.
"Mum, dad!" she exclaimed, hugging them.
"Metilda?" Dumbledore asked.
Hermione's mother looked at him, "He…uh…informed us that he got your owl but today just didn't work for him. He said he would try to make it tonight."
"I hope you haven't told him the news yet?"
"Oh, no," replied Hermione's father, "he doesn't know anything of the sort."
"And I hope it will remain so with Hermione as well?"
Both parents nodded and her mother said, "At least until we can get them both into the same room with you to explain."
Dumbledore gave a single nod and disappeared out the front door.
Hermione saw the revolted expression on Ron's face and suggested that they go outside.
"Yes, that would be best. Your father and I have some things to discuss," said Matilda.
Hermione led the boys through the sliding door to the back yard. There was a wooden porch with two metal, mesh tables; four chairs each and an umbrella to block the sun. Grass covered the rest of the yard, greener than Hermione had ever seen it, and a rickety wooden swing set from when she was little, weathered by the rain and snow.
They all sat down at a table, Hermione moving cautiously.
"What's wrong, Ron?" she finally asked after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.
"Huh?" he stupidly asked, looking up at her.
"Yeah, you looked a little…disgusted with Hermione's father," interjected Draco.
"Oh nothing," Ron mumbled, looking back down again.
Hermione noticed Harry studying Ron, then look at her and say, "I think it's dad looks so much like Snape that he's disgusted."
She was taken aback, "My…what? My father doesn't look like…like Snape!" she exclaimed, quickly standing up and ignoring the slight pain in her side.
Ron looked up at her and nodded, looking like he was going to be sick.
Hermione turned to Draco for support but found him nodding as well.
"I mean, his hair is greasy hair. Not quite as greasy, but similar. It's not black, though," said Harry as Hermione sat back down, her stomach churning.
"It's some kind of disability he's had since he was little. Well, not necessarily a disability but the hair soap he uses helps with the greasiness. It's supposed to dry his hair out.
"Hmmm…" Harry said, obviously lost in his own thought.
"His nose," Ron suddenly said, "Your mum and Snape have the same nose."
"No, not her mum. Ron, you're mixing her parents up," said Draco, looking at Ron, "Her dad and Snape have the same noses."
Hermione shivered when she realized they were right. There was no way they could be related.
"I think…the guest Dumbledore was talking about was supposed to be Snape," Ron said, although he didn't look too sure of himself.
"No," Draco cut across him, "It's my parents."
"What makes you think that?" Hermione asked.
"The same thing that makes Ron think the guest is Snape."
"I never said we could be on first-name terms!" Ron said, looking disgusted.
Draco looked away from Ron as Hermione said, "You think that the guest is your father because my parents and Snape have similar features?" she asked, ignoring Ron.
"No, I don't think that's why he thinks it's Snape. It's just a gut feeling."
Hermione raised her eye-brow but didn't argue any further.
"Hermione," Harry suddenly said, "exactly how old are your parents?"
"They're both fifty-eight. Why?"
"Fifty-eight?" Ron asked, wide-eyed, "That's almost how old my grand parents are!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, yes I know," she said, having been through this discussion with several of her muggle friends, "They've told me that. They decided to have me a little later in their life, that's all." She explained.
Hermione could see that Harry had some sort of idea, but she knew by the look on his face that he wasn't about to tell her.
"Okay, can we just drop this for now?" she asked as Ron began to say something else, "Talking about Snape for too long gives me the heebie-jeebies."
"Your mum was forty-two when she had you?" Draco asked.
"That's how old my mum is right now," Ron absent-mindedly said, frowning and looking down at the table.
"Yes. Every time we get into this conversation they tell me how the doctors never thought my mum had conceived because she was so old but then she went to him one day and she was pregnant with me."
"Ou," Harry softly said to no one in particular.
"Even then they didn't think either one of us would survive the pregnancy and if we did, then certainly not the labor. But we did."
Harry was looking at her as though her story didn't add up, Ron was staring at her with wide eyes, but Draco was looking at the ground, his brow furrowed.
"Uh, yeah," she said with uncertainty, "That's the story of my life," she finished brightly, then frowned, "Well, the beginning anyway."
"You were supposed to die?" Ron asked in awe.
"I think…I think Snape's related to you some how," Draco suddenly, but quietly said.
"Me too," said Harry, agreeing with him.
"What?" she asked, her heart picking up its pace, "How do you know?" she asked, forgetting she ever wanted to stop talking about Snape.
"I don't know," replied Draco, looking at her, "I've just got this weird gut feeling."
Draco knew much more than the other three did about Hermione. Even Hermione didn't know anything about her past. She knew what her parents had told her, yes, but that wasn't anywhere near the truth.