Before she could reach the Floo she was stopped by a Petrificus Totalus. Her mind swirled in anger as she used her eyes to glare a hole in Kinsley's head.
"Hermione, I did not tell you this to play a prank. It's not something the twins and I concocted for our amusement." Still petrified she stared defiantly back at him.
"I know it's a lot to take in, especially now. Especially after what you have been through." The last part was said in such a small voice that her heart softened slightly. The lightening of her eyes must have been enough for Kingsley because she was released within seconds.
"I'm sorry. I overreacted. I just don't understand how that could be possible. My mum has photos of me when I was born. Photos of herself pregnant. How is this even possible? Why is this possible?" Hermione was still stunned.
Kingsley lead her over to a chair by his desk pulling out another file. It had her name on it. Hesitantly she took it her hands shaking slightly as she set it down in front of her.
"We had a squib in the muggle ministry look into this for us. You and one other baby were placed with muggle parents. Your mother lost her child in the 8th month of her pregnancy. She gave birth to a were placed in their care after her child's death." She looked up sharply.
"Do you think that my…my biological parents were responsible for the death of her baby?" He shook his head.
"No, all signs point to the death being accidental. Caused by a tumble down the stairs. That added to the fact that you were placed with your muggle parents right when your birth ones disappeared leans towards a moment of opportunity." He smiled at her gently, almost fatherly.
"That leads us to the most important question." Hermione tried to swallow the lump in her throat, "Who are my birth parents?"
Kingsley winced, picking up the file he flipped it open, past the adoption papers, to what looked like a magical birth certificate.
"Alana and…No! That can't be right! HOW?" Shaking her head in disbelief she threw the file across the desk. "Antonin fucking Dolohov!"
At this point Kingsley had given up on all thoughts of propriety and decided this was a conversation best dealt with, with alcohol. Standing he poured first himself and then Hermione a generous portion of fire whiskey.
Taking the glass from him gratefully she tossed it back quickly grimacing at the burning flavor.
"We have to check to be sure. But, if this file is correct you are indeed the daughter of Alana and Antonin. Which considering the time frame, your appearance at the Grangers is timed perfectly to Alana's death. And was followed quickly by the captor and sentencing of Antonin."
"So what now?" her tone was bitter.
"Well, now we perform the spell. We will need to confirm that you are Dolohov's daughter before we proceed any further." He looked at her with pity.
"Why?" She shot back.
"Why, what?" Kingsley was playing dumb at this point. Hermione hated it when they did this. First Dumbledore and his manipulations and now the one man she thought she could count on for complete honesty.
"OH come on Kingsley! You know what I am asking! Why is this relevant? Why even bother with the testing!" She was getting worked up again. Her shoulders tensed and her breathing became labored.
"Hermione, this war lowered our magical population significantly, as I am sure you're well aware. Along with the devastation of the magical population, it's wiped out some very important families. The Blacks and Lestranges to count just a few. Others will die out due to the last heir being incarcerated for life. It's important to our society." His soothing tone calmed her only slightly.
"And think of all the possibilities that will open up for you in the Wizengamot. People will bow over backwards in an effort to get on your good side."
Hermione did find the appeal in that. She had wanted to make a change in wizarding Britain. Wanted to make their world a better place. This just seemed like a stepping stone to make that happen. Worst case scenario she wasn't actually a muggleborn like she originally thought. Best case scenario they were wrong and she could continue on with her life as if nothing had happened.
After several minutes of deliberation she finally nodded.
"Fine, I'll do it. What do we do from here?" Squaring her shoulders she steeled herself for what was about to come next.
"We take a trip to Azkaban." Kingsley stood from his chair and held his arm out to her.
"Now?"
"Bette to get it over with, no?" Smiling she took ahold of his arm as he grabbed a paperweight portkey.
Stumbling as they landed on the cold desolate island she quickly sat down with her head between her knees. No matter how many times she had done it in the past travel by portkey always upset her stomach.
After the nausea had subsided she stood and nodded to Kingsley. They walked together towards the towering prison and the longer she walked the more dread and cold seemed to sweep through her like a blanket of despair.
Checking in with the guards she and Kingsley were led to a visitors room, it was bereft except for the metal table with four chairs that sat dead center in the room. Tapping her foot nervously she could tell she was starting to wear on Kings' nerves. She chuckled to herself. It's what he deserves throwing this on me on my weekend.
After what felt like hours the door on the opposite side of the room finally opened. In walked a haggard looking Dolohov. But for as down trodden as he looked he still had a sneer on his face. As if he felt his position as a life long inmate was somehow still favored over the existence of a muggleborn.
He was escorted in by two guards and shoved unceremoniously into one of the metal chairs opposite of them. Leaning back he exuded arrogance as he cocked one eyebrow in question.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" He drawled out his voice heavy with his Russian accent. "I get one third of the golden trio and the minister all in one visit. I must be a very important man."
Hermione looked on in disgust. Opening her mouth to retort she was stopped by a hand placed on her arm in warning.
Kingsley just smiled pleasantly at the filthy man.
"An important man indeed. Tell me Mr. Dolohov"
"Lord Dolohov." The death eater interjected.
"My apologies, Lord Dolohov," Hermione stifled a giggle at the heavy sarcasm in Kingsley's voice "what do you know of this box." Kingsley pulled out a small box and enlarged it. It was a wooden chest, with intricately weaved designs curving in and out of runes. Beautiful in its own right, but such a beauty had been home to the same papers that changed her life forever.
Dolohov's eyes widened slightly. The sneer never leaving his face.
"Where did you get that?" The drawl was still there, but it was tinged slightly, if she didn't know any better she would say there was a hint of fear in his voice.
"Where doesn't matter as much as what was inside of it."
"Was?"
"Yes, I must say your work is immaculate. It took several curse breakers to finally get through the wards you had placed on this box." Kingsley sounded almost impressed. The sneer had finally been wiped off his face.
"So you know what's inside. What do you want from me?" There was a sharpness to his voice, a panic.
"You see amongst those papers we found were birth records. Several of them. But one, one in particular is relevant to you. You and Alana."
"Don't you DARE say her name!" Dolohov had burst from his seat as if to lunge at them as he roared the words.
"Ah ah ah. Sit back down. Trust me, you're going to what to know what I have to say next." All the while Hermione sat their silent, only jumping slightly when he had burst from his seat, her wand clutched in her hand.
Dolohov sat back down. "Proceed." The word was ground out between clenched teeth.
"Do you know where your daughter was sent, Antonin?" She had never seen Kingsley so calm, so, so Slytherin.
"No." The word was spit out.
"I do." Both men jumped slightly, as if forgetting she was there in the first place.
He raised a brow in her direction, urging her to continue.
She felt powerful. He wouldn't say anything to keep her quiet on this one. The information she held was too important.
"The Grangers." She spoke with clarity. Watching the disbelief pass over his face. He looked her up and down as if appraising her.
"Stand up." His words were soft but she could hear the command in his voice. She stood facing him.
"Remove the glamour." She stared on in confusion. She wasn't wearing any glamour.
"What glamour?" She couldn't help her curiosity.
"The glamour that was placed on you when you were a babe, girl!" His patience was wearing thin. He needed to know. If it was really her. If she had truly survived.
Looking to Kingsley in confusion she. Surgito with a wave of his wand she felt as if her skin was crawling. A wave of vertigo hit her causing her to sit back in her seat. With one last shutter the counter spell was complete.
Groaning she raised her head. Both men gasped.
"What?" She looked between the two confused. Kingsley transfigured the extra chair into a mirror. There looking back at her was another woman. Raising her hand to her cheeks she watched as the woman in the mirror mimicked her movements.
Her hair ran in ringlets down her back, still brown but it resembled dark chocolate more than the light brown hair she had worn previously. Her cheek bones were slightly more pronounced and her nose was thin, and elegant. Her lips were fuller along with her bosom and hips. She still fit into her clothing but they were a little on the tight side.
She looked like a Russian doll.
Twirling around she looked to Kingsley with a frenzied tinge in her eyes.
"Do the spell." She demanded, at least her voice had not changed.
Kingsley nodded and looked to Dolohov, who simply held his hand out for the blood letting. Pulling out the enchanted parchment he took a deadly looking dagger and sliced it across Dolohov's palm. Looking to Hermione he requested her hand a well. Making the same incision he held her hand over the parchment letting their blood combine. Both hands were quickly healed as Kingsley started the paternity test.
"It's finished. Now we wait. If you are his daughter, Hermione, the blood will write out the names of your parents. If you're not it will turn black and dissipate."
All three waited in an anxious silence as they waited for the spell to finish. When it started to move all three of them stopped breathing.
Hermione let out a sob as she watched her blood start to spell out Alana and Antonin Dolohov before moving below them writing out Ailia Hermione Dolohov.
A/N
A kind reviewer brought to my attention that I misspelled Hermione's name at the end. Instead of it being Ilia it was meant to be Ailia ( pronounced I-Leah) who is actually an IRL friend who this Hermione is softly based after.