Disclaimer: I don't own anything, obviously. So don't sue me, because you'll get a really crappy settlement.

A/N: Look! A second chapter! I bet none of you were expecting that. I wasn't really expecting it either, because I really suck at this whole "sitdownandwrite" thing. It isn't very good, but it's here. Finally. Some things might not make sense but they'll be straightened out in the next few chapters. So I love you all, and I hope you enjoy!

Waking in a Different Sort of Hell

Brown eyes fluttered open and hazily adjusted to the darkness. Her head was absolutely pounding; as if a sledgehammer was zealously attempting to crack open her skull. Groaning, she grabbed a pillow and held it over her face, trying to block out the scream she knew was coming. The room, however, was entirely silent. There was no screaming alarm clock, and instead of the scratchy fabric of the pillow she had been sleeping on at the Leaky Cauldron, the pillow over her face was silk.

Hermione shot into a sitting position, despite the heavy protests her head made. Her eyes scanned the room in which she laywarily. This was definitely not her room at the inn. This was a huge, lavish suite. There were three doors, leading to Merlin knows where, and two large windowed double doors on either side of the queen-sized bed she was on that seemed to lead out onto a balcony. There was a sitting area on the other side of her room, and a shelf full of books covered the wall to her right.

The last thing Hermione remembered before waking up was a flash of color streaming toward her before falling into someone's arms. As funny as it seemed, though, she hadn't felt in any kind of danger when the stranger caught her. She'd felt safer than she had ever been before. That was ridiculous, though, she told herself. 'Kidnapped' and 'Death Eaters' were the next things to go through her mind. As far as she could tell, though, she was the only one in the room. And if she had been kidnapped, wouldn't they've put her in a dungeon instead of a luxurious suite? Her eyes snapped to the bed table, where she saw her wand. Wouldn't they have confiscated that?

'What the hell?' she thought, cautiously getting out of bed and grabbing her wand.

Holding the magical stick at the ready, she walked slowly toward one of the doors, opening it warily. Instead of finding a figure in black, as she thought she would have, it was only a bathroom. Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, she went to the next door, and this one lead to a huge closet. The last door led to a deserted hallway. Not wanting to find out if something was waiting for her somewhere down it, she closed it quickly. She then turned to the doors leading out onto the balcony. How high up was she? Was an escape possible?

Just as she was about to open the doors she caught her reflection in the glass. It was the same as the one she had seen in the mirror that morning. Hermione had thought that whatever trick the twins had pulled would've worn off by now. Now she was starting to realize that the Weasley's had absolutely nothing to do with anything other than that damned alarm clock. So what had happened?

Shaking her head, she reminded herself that she could deal with her appearance later. Right now she had to find a way to escape, before her captor returned. Cautiously she turned the handle and pushed the door open enough for her to squeeze through. She quickly strode to the edge and leaned over the railing, trying to determine the height of the balcony, when a voice behind her made her jump and drop her wand, which tumbled to the ground below.

"You're awake," the voice said. It sounded familiar to Hermione, but she couldn't place it. "How are you feeling, Quinn?"

"Who are you?" she asked without turning around. She was too afraid to move. "What do you want from me?"

Someone moved to lean on the railing beside her. She turned her head and almost gasped at who it was. The voice matched the face. It didn't make any sense, though. He had no reason to kidnap her. His face - a face, she realized, that bore a striking resemblance to her own - was blank of any emotion that could help her figure it out.

"We've been looking for you for a long, long time, Quinn. Years."

"Stop calling me that, it's not my name and you know it. What do you want from me?"

"Everyone thought you were dead, you know. Only Mother and I kept up the search. We were right, too, and now you're here."

"Answer my question, Zabini!" Hermione spat.

His eyebrows creased with confusion. "How do you know my name? I would've thought they were smart enough to make you forget everything."

Hermione scoffed, "We've been at the same school for six years. I'm not stupid or self-centered enough not to have picked it up at some point, especially with the Slug Club last year. Who is this 'they' you mentioned?"

"You said not to call you Quinn. Why?"

"Because my name isn't Quinn."

"What is it, then?"

"Hermione Granger, you nitwit." She was getting slightly annoyed. Her kidnapper didn't even know who she was?

Blaise Zabini looked as if he were about to drop dead. "That's not possible! I would've felt it if you were her. I would've known the minute you stepped foot in the same room! You can't be her!"

"Felt what? What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" Hermione asked exasperatedly.

"Our bond!"

"Our what?"

"Our bond. You're my sister, Quinn. My twin sister."

And that's when Hermione fainted.

------

The next time she woke it was light outside, and there were voices arguing outside her door. Her mind shifted to the conversation that night, and she quickly ran through it in her mind. He'd seemed so convinced that she was this Quinn person. It sort of fit with her new face, too. It just wasn't logical, though! There was no way she could believe this without proper evidence. There was only one thing that could even make her ponder the idea that this might actually be happening, and that was a paternity spell. Quickly she rose from her bed and moved toward the door that led to the hallway.

"You're telling me you found Quinn? And she's actually Hermione Granger?" a voice Hermione didn't recognize asked incredulously. Hermione's hand stilled on the doorknob and instead of walking out, she decided to listen in.

"Yes, Mother," Blaise's voice answered with a hint of annoyance.

"So you kidnapped on of Harry Potter's best friends! What in the seven circles of Hell is wrong with you? Did you think that no one would notice? That it was no big thing and people wouldn't care to know what happened?" the other voice bellowed.

"I didn't know it was Granger! She looks completely different!"

"Blaise Xavier Zabini! What am I going to say to everyone to explain this?"

"Maybe you can just smile at Scrimgeour and bat your lashes. He'll forget all about it and then he could be my new father!" Blaise spat bitterly.

Hermione decided to open the door before everything escalated. Pulling it open, she saw Blaise glaring at a beautiful woman who was gaping at her son in shock. Hermione cleared her throat and they both turned to look at her. The woman's eyes lit up at the sight of the girl.

"Quinn! It really is you!" she cried, throwing her arms around Hermione.

Hermione awkwardly returned the hug. When the woman pulled back, tears streaming down her face, Hermione noticed that she was the spitting image of the woman. But she still didn't accept that anything she had learned that night. There was only one thing that could convince her, and she still had to ask for it.

"Before I believe any of this, I would like a paternity spell performed," she said firmly.

"Of course, dear. I'm sure this is very hard for you to swallow, and I'd like you to know that we'll do anything to help you feel at home here."

The woman then pulled a wand from a hidden pocket in her sleeve. She swished it twice, flicked it, and then spoke "verità di anima". Hermione knew that it was one of the most accurate paternity spells, she'd read about it before. A thin string of light pulled out of her chest as one pulled from the woman's. The strings slowly floated toward each other and intertwined.

Hermione gasped in shock and grabbed the doorframe for support. A positive result. This woman was her mother. There was no denying it. A sob escaped her lips. That meant everything she'd known and loved was a lie. Her parents, her home, her memories, all of them were false. She wasn't who she thought she was. Everything was ripped away from her all at once.

She ran back into her room and threw herself on the bed, crying into a pillow. She heard the door close and the footsteps of someone walking toward her bed. Soothing words reached her ears as Blaise gathered her into his arms and let her cry on his shoulder.

"Shh, everything's going to be okay now. I'm your brother and I won't let anything hurt you anymore. You're safe here."

"Promise?" she choked out through her tears.

"I promise, little sister."

"What am I going to do? What about my parents? And Harry and Ron? What am I supposed to tell them? They're going to hate me, aren't they?"

"Let me tell the story of how we lost you in the first place. Then maybe you'll have an idea of what to do," Blaise offered, and Hermione nodded her consent.