Stepping out of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, Hermione closed the door behind her and went off with determination in her steps. She had two missions on her mind. The first was to find Tom and give him a hug, as she had promised herself, and the second was to find the book that Professor Renshaw had recommended to her and track down her magical family once and for all.

Luckily for her, she didn't have to go far, as she nearly crashed into the very boy she was looking for as she rounded the corner.

"Tom, there you are!" she exclaimed.

Not even giving a moment of preparation, she launched herself at him, engulfing him in a tight hug that caused him to let out a yelp of surprise. It only took a moment for him to squeeze her back just as tightly, though not before checking to make sure anyone was around to see them.

"I'm sorry if it seemed I was ignoring you, Hermione," he apologized. "I suppose I got so caught up in my search that I forgot about everything else, most importantly, you."

Pulling away, Hermione smiled up at him. "Don't worry, I forgive you, just try not to do it again."

He nodded his head, his eyes flooded with sincerity. He still looked a bit haunted from everything.

Perhaps it was because she had just come face to face with Lord Voldemort, but she couldn't help but take notice of just how handsome Tom really was. His eyes were so beautiful and deep that she felt as though she could drown in them. And his smirk… while others found it disconcerting, she found it mesmerizing.

How could someone as magnificent as him turn into someone as twisted as Voldemort?

Wait…

What?

Mesmerizing? Magnificent? Where did those words come from? Though she couldn't exactly deny that they were true. He was both of those things… Not to mention that he was intelligent, being her equal in the matter of both knowledge and magic, as well as dark and mysterious, a dangerous yet oddly charming combination.

Shaking her head free from that particular train of thought, she focused back on reality and the missions she had set out to achieve.

"I was actually going to find you to see if you would want to help me do a bit of research of my own."

He raised a brow at that. "Does it have anything to do with that… monster your Boggart turned into?"

Her body froze. "You… You saw that?"

"I noticed that you didn't follow the rest of us out, and I wanted to wait for you, because… Well, let's just say the Boggart lesson opened my eyes to things I had never realized before. I didn't mean to spy, but then I heard the Professor scream…" he trailed off.

Hermione didn't know what to think. Tom had seen her Boggart… He had seen Lord Voldemort… How on earth was she supposed to explain that to him? 'Oh, that was just a version of yourself that I've come to prevent you from becoming.' She silently scoffed at herself. As if that would work.

"I'm not quite sure why the Boggart turned into that, but I assume he was meant to be some sort of embodiment of evil," she excused. "Anyway, that's not what I need help researching on."

She told him all about what had happened after the Boggart and how Professor Renshaw had recommended a book to her in the Restricted Section on long lost magical families. While she was a bit disappointed by the idea that her magical family might be extinct, she was still curious.

"So, will you help me?"

"You're asking me to spend the rest of the day with you in the library, surrounded by books that are normally forbidden to all students?" He smirked his mesmerizing smirk. "Need you even ask? Of course, I'll help you."

She rolled her eyes at him, though she agreed that he did have a point. Why on earth would she ask that? Of course he would jump at the chance to access the restricted section. It excited him just as much as it did her.

With their friendship once more mended and better than ever before, the two of them started off towards the library.

Silence washed over them as they strolled the newly vacant corridors, but it was a comfortable silence. That was just the way their friendship worked. They didn't have to talk to each other non stop about pointless things as others did. It wasn't even that they had nothing to talk about, but rather that they simply appreciated a bit of silence every now and then in an otherwise noisy school.

When they got to the library, they headed straight towards the librarians desk and handed her the note. She looked it over carefully, inspecting the signature as if she suspected it was forged, before getting up and leading them over towards the huge locked gate that separated the two parts of the library.

"You are not to touch any of the books with chains, you hear me?" she warned them. "The last thing I need is to deal with a bunch of hornery books."

They nodded their heads in unison.

With a sigh, the librarian fitted the key into the lock and turned it. The gate unlocked and swung open for them to enter. The librarian stayed for but a few minutes as she watched them go, until she could not see them anymore and decided to return to her desk.

Tom and Hermione explored the forbidden part of the library, staring around in awe. To them, this was like their own personal paradise. Hermione had of course been inside before, but the thrill of being surrounded by so much unknown knowledge and magic never wore off.

"What's the title of the book you're looking for?" Tom asked.

"It's called 'The Forgotten Lines'," she replied, glancing up at the labels on each shelf.

It didn't take them long to find the 'F' section. As Hermione began to glance at all the different titles on everything from famous fire-eaters to french foragers, she couldn't help but think of Harry and how he must have browsed through this very same section in their first year when they were looking for information on Nicholas Flamel. Of course, he hadn't found anything in here, as Nicholas Flamel hadn't exactly done anything dark, nor had he been forgotten.

There were times when she would remember her old friends and the life she had left behind. She wondered how they were doing without her. Had the Death Eaters attacked the school yet? Had Harry and Ron gotten out some way to go in search of the horcruxes? Were they even alive?

As always whenever her thoughts drifted to them, she shook those thoughts away. It did her no good to dwell on such things now. She had to focus on her own reality, not some reality that might not even exist anymore.

"Hermione, look over there."

Hearing that, her head snapped straight up and followed the direction in which Tom was pointing to.

At the very end of the section stood a tall pedestal, and on that pedestal was a thick blue book. Moving towards it, she carefully reached out and swiped her hands across it to wipe away all the dust that covered it. Written in thick gold lettering was the title 'The Forgotten Lines'.

"This is it!"

A big smile spread across her face as she reached out to open it, only to find that it wouldn't budge. Her smile dropped. She searched every inch of the book, but could find no lock nor key hole anywhere on it.

"Perhaps we ought to go back and ask the librarian about it," she suggested. "It may require a certain spell to open it."

She started to turn to leave, but Tom reached out to stop her.

"I don't think so, Hermione," he said pointing to the rune markings just below the title. "I've read that some books require a drop of blood to open."

Of course! Why didn't she think of that? While generally dangerous and forbidden, Blood Magic was often used in certain things to ensure that only those of a particular bloodline were able to access them.

The fact that Blood Magic was involved made her feel uneasy. Would the book even open for her if she gave it a drop of her blood? She didn't even know for sure if her magical family was in the book. Though, the fact that she hadn't found them in any other book told her otherwise. And what kind of family would she find that their names were locked away in a book bound by such magic?

Taking a deep breath, she reached up with shaking hands to pinch her cheek. The cut on her face was substantially deep and still open, making it all too easy to squeeze a few drops out. Catching them with her finger, she reached out and smeared the bit of blood onto the runes.

A moment passed and nothing happened.

Then, all of a sudden, a gust of wind came out of nowhere and thrust the book open with a loud thud. Tom and Hermione jumped back in surprise. The pages tore out of the book and began to swirl around in the air, forming a tornado of paper.

Without even fully knowing what she was doing, she reached out towards it. One of the pages suddenly shot out of the tornado and straight into her hand. No sooner had it done so, then the tornado gave way and the remaining pages flew back into the book which promptly shut itself back up.

By that point, her whole body had started to tremble. She willed herself not to risk looking at it at first, wanting to give herself a bit of time to calm down and prepare for what she might find. Whoever your ancestors are and whatever they have done, it does not define who you are, she reminded herself.

Turning the page over, the first sight that met her eyes was her name, glowing at the very bottom of the page.

Hermione Jean Granger. Born in 1926 to Helen McAvoy & Jean Granger.

She couldn't believe her eyes. This couldn't be right. She was born in 1979, and yet the page said she was born in 1926, and her parents shouldn't have even been born yet, and yet there they were on the family tree, same names and everything. It was almost as if it had never been any different… as if she had always belonged to this time. However it had happened, she was secretly thankful that it had, as it meant she didn't have to make everything up.

"What did your parents do for a living anyway?"

"They were both dentists."

Tom's face paled. "You mean those psychopaths who butcher your mouth and pull all your teeth out?"

She cast an odd look his way. "I don't know what kind of dentists you've been to before, but my parents were nothing like that. They only pulled teeth when they were rotten or loose."

Rolling her eyes at him, she returned her focus to the paper in her hand. Her eyes traced the family tree upward from her mother's side. She passed over several generations of muggle relatives, not including her parents, before she finally found the family squib.

She nearly choked on her own saliva when she saw the name.

Eimile Renshaw, born in 1832 to Maria Bones & Aiden Renshaw. Died in 1899.

No… It couldn't be…

Her curiosity growing more and more by the second, she continued on her way up.

Aiden Renshaw, born in 1810 to Evelyn Bluebell & Kieran Renshaw. Died in 1910.

And there it was.

Kieran Renshaw, born in 1789 to Saorise Murphy & Charles Renshaw.

There was no death date.

Suddenly everything made sense. Professor Renshaw's strange behaviour… his sudden interest in her family and his willingness to help her find them… But how? How did he know that she was related to him?

"He's a vampire, isn't he?"

She nodded. "Yes, but don't tell anyone."

Then she remembered.

He must have smelt her blood when Boggart Voldemort cut her cheek with his finger nail and recognized the scent. Vampires had an excellent sense of smell, far superior to that of any other being, except perhaps werewolves. There had always been some debate, mostly between the two rival races, over who could smell better, but that didn't matter now.

Not only had she found her magical family, but she had also found a living relative… her only living relative…

She didn't know how to feel about it all. On the one hand, she was thrilled by the idea of being related to her favorite professor. She didn't even care that he was a vampire. However, she couldn't help but wonder why she had never known him in her own time. Why hadn't he still been teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts? He was better than all the professors they had combined. Did something happen to him in between now and then.

It wasn't easy to kill a vampire. In fact, it was almost impossible, so she was sure that he would have still been alive at the time. Perhaps he had retired and gone off to live in hiding somewhere? That was the only logical explanation.

"This is an incredible find. Imagine, being able to go and talk to an ancestor of yours who's lived for over a hundred years," Tom remarked. "You must have a lot of questions for him."

Indeed she did. To have found such a relative was much like finding the book before them. Both were filled with long forgotten knowledge and stories that she was thrilled to learn, but she had to tread carefully. She didn't know how Professor Renshaw felt about the whole ordeal, and more importantly, how he felt about her. For all she knew, he might not want anything to do with her from now on. Though, she supposed he wouldn't have seemed so interested if that was the case.

"Yes, but I think I'll wait a bit and see what happens," she claimed. "In the meantime, why don't I help you do some research on your ancestor? That way I can make sure you don't accidentally ignore me again."

He raised a brow at her in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"It seems only fair that I help you find your family in return for helping me find mine."

His face lit up. This had clearly pleased him.

"Just promise me that you'll remember one thing," she added. "Our families… They don't define us. Just because your family did some horrible things, doesn't mean that you have to do the same. You are your own person, and you shouldn't let their opinions dictate your thinking."

He gave her an odd look but still nodded his head. "I'll keep that in mind."