Hermione stared at the results with disbelief. There was absolutely no denying it now.

She still wished it was wrong. "Are you sure this is correct?" she hopefully asked her former professor.

"Yes, Miss Granger - or shall I say Miss Dolohov - it is correct."

Suddenly the room started to spin, and, before anyone could grab her, Hermione fell to the floor.

"I think it was quite the shock. Thorfinn please pick her up and put her on the couch."

Thorfinn carefully picked her up, noting how good she felt in his arms.

Antonin stood up to check on his daughter as Thorfinn held her. He placed her on the couch. Meanwhile, Narcissa had called a house elf for a wet washcloth, and put it on Hermione's forehead upon receiving it.

The cold, wet sensation seemed to work, for the young woman moaned, moving as if to sit. "What happened?"

"Stay still, my dear, you fainted after you found out the results," Narcissa told her.

Hermione leaned on her elbow and looked at everyone around the room, fixing her stare on the dark-haired wizard.

He returned her gaze. "I guess I am a little offended that you passed out," he told her jokingly.

She thought he was serious until she saw he was smiling and she smiled as well.

"Sorry."

A couple days later found Hermione sitting with Narcissa on the patio. It was a common occurrence by now. She took a deep breath, inhaling the faint smell of lavender mixed with roses.

Hermione found the scent oddly comforting especially after the past couple days.

It seemed surreal to her that, in a matter of a couple days, her entire life had changed. As she neared the cup to her lips, she let her thoughts wander.

She realized that Narcissa had asked her something, only she had missed out what. "I am sorry, Narcissa, what were you saying?" She said, placing her tea cup back on the table.

"It's alright, my dear, you have had a lot to think about lately."

Hermione scoffed. "That's the understatement of the century."

Narcissa laughed and was about to say something when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see Lucius motioning her over.

"Excuse Hermione, apparently my husband needs to see me. Why he doesn't just come out here I have no idea," She murmured, rising to her feet and crossing the distance to the patio's door where Lucius stood.

"What in the world is so important, Lucius, that could you not join us outside?"

"I figured it would be better to show this to you before Hermione sees it." He extended the newspaper to his wife.

Member of the Golden Trio actually a pureblood

By: Rita Skeeter

It is with great shock that this reporter has found that one very famous, decorated muggleborn is in fact a pureblood whose father was actually a death eater. She also happens to be engaged to another former death eater.

One wonders if Miss Hermione Granger, or, rather, Hermione Dolohov is actually as smart as everyone thinks she is.

What do the other members of the golden trio have to say? Has she misled them as well?

Narcissa scanned the article. The pictures looked really close. "This one was taken from our house when she met Dolohov. How did she do that?" Another picture portrayed Thorfinn and Dolohov at a pub. "We can't keep this secret, we'll need to show her."

"She is not going to take it very well, I imagine," Lucius said.

The blonde witch took a deep breath. "I'll do it."

"I still have some connections at the ministry. I could reach out to some-"

"Not yet, let's see her reaction first. Hopefully she didn't inherit her father"s temper."

Narcissa returned to her seat with the newspaper in hand.

Hermione turned to Narcissa with a smile on her face. "What did Lucius want?"

"Sweetheart, try not to be too angry. We'll find a way to deal with it."

"You are making me nervous. What's going on?" Narcissa slid the The Daily Prophet copy across the table.

Hermione picked it up, gaze skimming the page. She went very quiet, until she didn't. "I am going to smash that bug!"

Before Hermione could get another word out, a small owl that she recognized as Ron's crashed into the teapot, dropping off an unmistakably red envelope.

A howler.

As she reached for the letter, it started to smoke.

"Hermione, do you know to whom this clumsy owl belongs?"

She cringed, still staring at it. "It's Pig, Ron's owl."

She took a deep breath as the owl stood up and flew away. "Hermione, you better open it."

The envelope burst before she could reach for it, the unmistakable voice of one best friend coming out.

"Are you kidding me, Hermione? So you lied to us all this time? I bet you're loving all the attention. And what you do they mean you are going to be married to one of them? We were supposed to be together!"

Hermione could do nothing but stare as the howler yelled until Narcissa managed to burn it. "I think we have heard enough from Mr. Weasley, don't you?"

"I couldn't agree more."