disclaimer: No...I do not own any of the characters from Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling is a genius!)

Hey all! Sorry it took so long to update, I've been super sick! New updates much sooner. )

-smiles-

boots!

A morning mist clung to the wet stones of the castle like a death shroud. Inside, all was quite silent and dark. No one stirred in the stillness; even Mrs. Norris was nowhere to be seen chasing mice in the dim of the early morning. Hermione writhed in her bed, terrorized by dreams of a family she never knew. Dead lilies fell into her lap from the sky and hundreds of black serpents slithered at her naked feet. The shadow of a man appeared in the distance; light beaming from his chest, wielding a dagger at her heart…

"No!!!" Hermione shot straight up in her bed, beads of sweat framing her heart-shaped face. What had she done? How could she have been so bold? Professor Snape was an ex-death eater…what if he and her mother had become enemies… what if the greasy old bat was her father?! Hermione was sick with anxiety. The thought that she and Snape might be related somehow was beyond creepy. She quickly threw her blankets off and readied a nice warm shower. Hermione knew she had to calm down and approach whatever was to come with great rationality. In any case, even if Professor Snape was going to tell her something she didn't want to hear, she would still be a step closer to knowing who she was; and that was worth any and all conceivable risks.

A single light warmed the dungeons; a flame burning in Severus Snape's heart where a block of ice had formed so many years ago. Photographs, letters and postcards lined the floors of his room; the tell-tale signs of severe insomnia and perhaps…regret.

Severus sat on the edge of his bed, clutching Hermione's lines in his cold hands; unable to think of anything else.

"my mother Katrina…" he read it aloud over and over again, and each time it made less sense. "I thought you were dead" he whispered in his contemplation. Katrina had been the greatest friend he ever had and he reflected hard on the last words exchanged between them. She had seemed so scared and yet, so happy. He remembered seeing her protruding belly and being in complete awe of the new authority she seemed to emanate. "Hermione" he smiled, "you truly are your mother's daughter…"

The Great Hall hummed with students and staff preparing for the day ahead and the smell of fresh pumpkin juice and cinnamon rolls wafted throughout the castle. At the head table, Albus Dumbledore's twinkling eyes danced across the room. Each student held a different, but nonetheless special place in his ever embracing heart and he remembered every detail of their lives at Hogwarts; from O.W.L.s to N.E.W.T.s! He looked on as Neville Longbottom studied botany over his oatmeal and Ginny Weasley examined her teeth with the back of a spoon. He chuckled from time to time, recounting the various trials and tribulations this particular group of Gryffindors had been through in the last seven years. It was then that Harry and Ron caught the old wizard's attention. The two looked so incomplete without Hermione seated between them; she was more than a best friend to them, she was an invaluable member of their rather unorthodox magical family. After all, a half blood, a pure blood and a muggle born were hardly likely to get along well to begin with, let alone be the best of friends!

Dumbledore sipped cranberry cider from his goblet and peered at the Slytherin table over the round brim. Thomas Crowe was in deep thought as he stared down at his empty plate, from time to time touching his left arm as if he was making sure it was indeed still there. Draco was recounting a hideously biased description of the last Quidditch match against Gryffindor. As nasty and narrow-minded as Draco could be at times, Dumbledore often saw a flicker of light gleam from the spoiled boy's heart. In fact, in many ways…Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were quite similar. He chuckled to himself and reached for an apple biscuit.

"Albus" Minerva whispered in a low tone." Albus…have you spoken at all with Hermione since…you know…?"

"Not yet, though I feel most certain she will approach me in due time…after all Minerva, there are those at Hogwarts who may know a great deal more than you or I and I have no doubt in Hermione's intellect to recognize this fact".

"And who might that be?"

Severus Snape quietly entered the dining hall through a side door, carrying his tattered book of letters under one arm. He took his seat, poured himself a cup of tea and cracked open his book without bidding a single "good morning" to anyone. Dumbledore watched him intently. Something was on Severus' mind, someone from the past lingered in his coal black eyes and Albus had a good idea who it was.

"Minerva, Hermione will come to us when she is ready…no sense forcing these…" Dumbledore's expression froze with surprise as did everyone else who had turned to see Hermione Granger step into the Great Hall, her hair as straight as nails and softly hanging about her shoulders like corn silk.

"She looks beautiful" Remus whispered under his breath, "Severus- have you ever seen Miss Granger look more beautiful?"

"What are you…" Snape's jaw dropped. She was a ghost of her mother. True, Hermione's hair was much darker, but the way it smoothed down around her soft face was unmistakably like Katrina's. He felt like a young boy again, carefully observing the only girl who ever made him feel like he mattered.

Hermione, completely oblivious to the effect she was having on everyone, took her seat as far away from Harry and Ron as possible and began eating a breakfast of fwooper eggs and toast.

"Severus, you know what just occurred to me?!" Lupin laughed. "Hermione bares a striking resemblance to that friend of yours…what was her name? You know…that Slytherin girl…Kat, right?"

Severus said nothing, just nodded his head, his eyes still very much fixed on Hermione. She looked so much like her mother, yet more darkly beautiful- with a severity to her expression that made his skin crawl with a strange desire he had so many times tried to subvert.

Hermione looked up at the head table. The young witch was still feeling quite betrayed by those she had once looked to in the past for the truth and she wondered if other professors knew about her secret parentage. Certainly, if Snape knew, then it was possible that Professor Lupin knew too, as they were at Hogwarts during the same years. Hermione let her golden gaze wander down the table, locking eyes with the Potions Master. Severus felt the very threads of his grave demeanor being pulled in several different directions and his chest tightened as if Hermione's stare was some sort of vice.

"Severus…are you quite alright?" A look of concern spread across Lupin's narrow face.

Both Albus and Minerva also took notice of the greasy haired wizard's sudden odd behavior.

"I'm fine…I just…I must get to my lab" He stood awkwardly and hurried out of the Great Hall, clutching his tattered book of letters close to his heart.

After breakfast, Hermione decided to pay a visit to the library before her next class. As she glided through the aisles of books, a plethora of whispers and stares followed in her wake. She looked so much older with her hair straightened; so very unlike the young ragamuffin of a witch that she had been in her first years. She had seen Harry and Ron following her to the library and she hoped that they would leave her alone. The last thing she felt like dealing with was a game of 20 questions with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb! Hermione tucked her hair behind her ears and made for her favorite corner study table. After a few minutes, when she was certain she was alone, she opened up the post card book with a calm sigh of relief and continued the journey into her mother's past.

The seventh postcard took Hermione's breath away. It was a picture of Black Lake. True, the lake was not the most exotic of places, but there was such a beautiful radiance to the water and the picture seemed to glow in Hermione's hands. Unfortunately nothing was written on the back except for a set of numbers; 1113. Hermione suddenly remembered the numbers above her mother's vault at Gringott's was the same.

"Eleven thirteen?" What did it mean, she wondered. What could the significance of these numbers be? Hermione began to make a list of all the important numbers in her own life. Her birthday was September 19th; her lucky number was 26; her first year at Hogwarts was 1991…the list went on and on but answered nothing. She was driving herself mad trying to find some meaning to these scribbled numbers.

"Hermione?" a timid voice squeaked.

She looked up from her messy list of numbers and was surprised to see Ginny Weasley staring back at her.

"Oh…Ginny…Hi"

"What are you doing?"

"Oh…um…numerology homework"

"Oh…well anyway, I just wanted to say that your hair looks really nice today Mione…and, well…I know you probably hate me, but…"

"Ginny…I…I don't hate you- I've just not been myself lately and…" Hermione so longed for the times when she could spill all her troubles to her friends. "I've just been going through a lot, that's all."

"Like what? Anything you want to talk about?" Ginny's eyes begged her to tell.

"Just…personal things."

"Oh" Ginny smiled and extended her hand "Well, do you think maybe we could at least be friends again?"

Hermione bit down on her lip and hesitated before finally taking Ginny's hand.

"Well?" a voice spewed hot ash from the fireplace.

"I…I need more time sir…I have nothing to report yet"

"This won't do Mr. Crowe. The Dark Lord needs that information now!" The fire roared upward, knocking Thomas back onto the floor. "I need to know where his loyalties lie, Crowe. Do I make myself clear?" Thomas grasped his left arm and winced in slight pain.

"But sir…perhaps Professor-"

"Shhh! I heard something…"

"Crowe! What are you doing down there?!" Draco Malfoy appeared behind him, dressed head to toe in Quidditch gear. "Are you coming to the practice or not?!"

"Yes…I was just…"

"Thomas…Thomas, aren't you coming to watch Draco practice with us?" Pansy squeaked from the hallway.

"Come on!" Draco pulled Thomas up to his feet and the three made for the pitch.

He looked over his shoulder and watched as the flames vanished and glowed green under black embers.