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

Here's the next chapter. Sorry for posting so late today, had to make some revisions.)

-boots-

By the afternoon, light snow blanketed the grounds of the school and the sky darkened, blending in seamlessly with the misty horizon of Black lake. Rubeus Hagrid sniffed the air as he climbed the little hill up to the castle. It smelled different; musty, cold, and dead. To most people, the winter conjured up images of death, but not Hagrid. He could always find life in the cold. But this smell…it was death. He stopped halfway up the hill and scanned the area. The snow began to thicken and drop down in large clumps of white, obscuring the giant's vision. He shrugged and continued towards the Great Hall, all the while, the smell of death lingering in the distance.

Harry and Ron picked at their potatoes, their faces expressionless and their minds racing. Neither of them could bear it anymore; they missed Hermione. It had been their intention to confront her earlier in the library, but between the two of them, they couldn't think of what to say. Somehow "sorry" hadn't seemed to work and both boys were at a loss of what to do next.

"You do realize that pushing your food around your plate doesn't count as eating it, right?"

The two looked up in unison and smiled from ear to ear.

"Hermione!" they both squealed like Cornish pixies and practically tackled her to the floor!

"Easy!" she smiled.

"Mione- we're so sorry- please forgive us…we never meant for you to…"

"It's alright Ron. I…I had a long talk with Ginny and…well, I miss you guys!"

"Not half as much as we missed you!" Ron laughed.

"I'm sorry Hermione."

"Thanks Harry. Sorry for being so secretive…I just…"

"It's alright Hermione…tell us when you're ready" Harry smiled warmly and the three sat down to dinner.

At the head table, Albus Dumbledore looked with concern at Professor Snape's empty seat. It was not so uncommon for him to miss dinner occasionally, but something was not setting well with the old wizard.

"Professor Lupin…have you seen Severus this evening?"

"No, as a matter of fact I haven't. The last I saw of him was this morning at breakfast actually"

Dumbledore's eyes darted about the room and a smile spread across his bearded face when he saw the trio reunited, carrying on as if they had never been apart.

"Such is youth"

"I beg your pardon sir?" the werewolf inquired.

"Youth- my dear Remus, the young could teach us a great many things if we let them…about forgiveness, friendship…" Albus seemed lost in his thoughts- but Lupin knew better, there was always method to the old man's "seeming" madness. "Yes," he continued "I think he could learn a lot from her"

Remus followed the wizard's gaze and observed the three students with great scrutiny. Dumbledore often had curious things to say, but this one threw Remus for a loop. "Who?"

"What?"

"Who could learn a lot from whom? Miss Granger?"

"Precisely"

"What?"

"Oh- Minerva, would you pass me another biscuit please?"

Outside the snow softened and turned to rain. The big fat drops pounded against the windows of the castle like a pack of wolves. A very confused Professor Lupin turned his attention back to his meal, periodically looking up at the trio with a pensive and quizzical look.

"Severus Snape? How have you been? Is it really November already? My how the time does fly- eh?"

"Yes…I…yes, time does fly Irma"

"Just between us; you look terrible!" the old witch slapped Severus on the back and laughed heartily, "But enough about that…what can I get you? The usual?"

"Please"

Irma Pinkblinker was the proprietor and barmaid of Knockturn Alley's seediest tavern, The Wailing Wench. For as long as Severus could remember, Irma had been behind that bar! She was a tall woman with broad shoulders and a booming voice that could be oddly comforting at times. Though she herself never had any children, she was the utmost authority in advice giving and she had certainly been something of a mother to Severus in his darkest years at Hogwarts.

"Here you are dear, hot pumpkin juice with just a dash of cinnamon"

Severus looked at her with a sullen, less than amused stare.

"Oh- alright…here you go, one firewhiskey"

Severus smirked and took a sip. He had successfully avoided any encounters with Hermione all day but he knew the time would eventually come and he dreaded it. He ran his index finger around the rim of the glass and studied the amber colored liquor intently. It was the same rich color as Hermione's hair.

"So…who is she?" Irma smiled out of the corner of her crooked mouth and raised a bushy eyebrow in expectation.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me…who's the lucky witch?"

"I'm sure you are not suggesting that I am even remotely-"

"It's in your eyes Severus…and those eyes may be black as Black lake but they're not nearly as deep…no sir, you can't hide anything from Ole' Irma!" she beamed.

Severus took another large gulp and rubbed his temples. There was nothing in his eyes. This woman was as mad as the old doddering fool back at Hogwarts. He ordered another drink and thought about Katrina. He had failed her in the most inexcusable way. He had failed Hermione too all those years ago and now here he was, unable to face her and unable to stop thinking about her.

In the Gryffindor common room, the three friends sat by the fireplace eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and recounting old stories. Hermione had not felt so relaxed in a long time. Harry and Ron really were the best friends she ever had and she felt a pang of guilt at having been so harsh towards them. She laughed and smiled with ease and was glad to be as far away from that postcard book as possible.

"I swear it- his head was so big by the end of the spell that it looked like a pumpkin on a toothpick!"

"Ron- tell Hermione about your detention with Snape! That one's really funny!"

"Right…so, I was cleaning cauldrons and I set one on the floor and I went to pick up a washcloth and…"

As soon as they mentioned Professor Snape, Hermione felt her anxiety return. She hadn't seen him all day and she wondered if he was purposefully avoiding her or if he just didn't care enough to respond to her blatant inquisition.

"He ran to see what the explosion was from and tripped on the cauldron! I have never seen his face flushed with so much color! He looked like…"

"I have to tell you both something" Hermione's voice was serious and a little shaky. "I…I found out that my parents aren't my real parents…they took me and my real mother in when I was born"

Both boys were very still, not sure what they should say. A single tear slid down Hermione's cheek as she stood and crossed over to the window, placing a hand on the cold pane.

"My mother was…" she was unsure of how much she really wanted to divulge, but was so overwhelmed with emotion that she could not seem to hold anything back, "She was a Slytherin here at Hogwarts."

"The letter" Harry whispered under his breath.

"Yes…" she turned to Harry "I received a letter from Gringott's instructing me to visit my mother's vault."

"Did you inherit something?!" Ron smiled.

"Yes…a big question mark" she hissed back at him.

"Hermione…I…what happened to your"

"My mother? I'm not sure. I think she was murdered"

"Murdered?" gulped Ron, clutching a pillow from the sofa

"Yes. My parents…I mean, the Grangers said they had taken me upstairs for a bath and they heard a scream- but all they saw was a flash of green light"

Harry and Ron looked at each other "Avada Kedavra" they said together.

"Exactly."

"So…what else do you know? What about your dad?"

"No idea. For all I know, he's dead too. Harry- I don't even know my last name!"

The three sat in silence for some time. No one entirely sure of what to say.

"Have you tried yearbooks?"

"Yes. Dumbledore charmed them so I wouldn't find her. All I know is that her name was Katrina and she was at school here with…" Hermione suddenly felt that she was telling them too much, but it felt so good to get it off her chest.

"She went to school with who?" Harry asked.

"With…your parents" Hermione knew that Snape was in the same grade as Harry's parents, so it wasn't a complete lie.

"My parents? That's it!"

"What now?" Ron whined.

"I have both of my parent's yearbooks! Maybe your mother signed them…or, maybe Dumbledore's charm hasn't affected them! It's at least worth a look"

Hermione went along with it but knew in her gut that it would yield no results. She needed to speak with Snape.