Chapter Two – Three Years Earlier
"Hermione, breakfast is ready!" Jane Granger's voice called from downstairs.
"Coming mum!" Hermione Granger came charging down the stairs, her trademark curly hair flying everywhere.
She could barely contain her excitement, because in three short days she would be turning seventeen and today her mother was going to take her to buy a new outfit for the party. Hermione couldn't wait for her birthday. She would finally be of age in the wizarding world and would be able to perform magic whenever she wanted.
Despite her giddy anticipation for the forthcoming celebration, there was just one thing that plagued Hermione's thoughts, the recurring dream she'd been having.
In the dream, there was a boy who looked to be about Hermione's age. He would look intently at two wizarding photographs, two different portraits of the same family. The only difference between them was the presence of a young girl. She was there in one of the portraits but in the second, she was missing. Stranger still was that this girl looked nearly identical to the boy staring at the photos, so much so that they could easily have been twins. The boy would then turn around and walk away as he vowed, "I'll bring you home, Mia."
The boy looked vaguely familiar but Hermione could not figure out where she had seen him.
Hermione attempted to force the dream from her mind as she sat down at the kitchen table to eat, falling into a routine silence. Her head snapped up suddenly when she thought she heard someone crying.
"Mum, are you ok?"
"You were thinking about him again, weren't you? The boy from your dream?"
"Yes…but it's just a dream. Why are you so upset?"
"'Mum" Hermione started
"Do you know how terrible I feel when you call me that? You shouldn't be calling me that."
"What are you talking about, mum? You're scaring me. Why would you say I shouldn't…"
"Because I'm not your real mother!" Jane cried out in confession. She had kept this appalling secret from Hermione for nearly seventeen years and it was time to be honest. "The truth is… that is to say that… if you looked carefully at the little girl from the photographs in your dream…she … is you."
Hermione gaped at her mother in complete bewilderment. "You're wrong there's no way…"
Jane shook her head solemnly. "It's true," she whispered hoarsely, staring directly into the eyes of the girl she had raised as her own and loved like a daughter.
"No! You are my mother! I look like you and dad! How can I not be yours? I look nothing like the girl from the portrait."
Hermione could barely begin to understand the words Jane muttered under her breath, but she thought she heard her say, "You will soon enough."
She started to respond when something else occurred to her suddenly. "Wait. How do you know about the portraits? I remember telling you that I'd been having a strange dream but I never told you about the portraits."
Jane stood slowly and turned to the counter to pour a glass of water. She took a deep controlled breath to calm herself. Gripping the cool glass, she returned to her seat opposite Hermione who was still looking at her 'mum' as though she had gone mad.
"Hermione, there are a lot of things you need to know but I want to wait until your father is here. I am going to call him and he should be home straight away."
Hermione just nodded numbly and tried to eat more of her breakfast but she no longer felt hungry. She only felt numbness.
Jane left the room to make her call and Hermione could hear her speaking in anxious, hushed tones.
After ten minutes of agonizing silence, the front door opened and shut again quickly. Hermione didn't have to look up to know it was her father, she could tell by the familiar clatter as he tossed his keys onto the foyer table and the heavy footsteps that echoed as he carried himself down the hallway toward the kitchen.
"Harold?" Jane called to her husband.
"Coming dear," Harold walked through the door took one look at the scene and knew that it was time to tell Hermione to truth. He sighed wearily. This was the day he had been fearing for nearly seventeen years.
"Hermione, what your mother and I are going to tell you may come as a shock to you." He said as he sank into the seat next to his wife.
"So, there's more to the story than you not being my real parents?"
Harold was taken aback at what Hermione said but before he could retort, Jane cut in.
"I think you need to know the full story, Hermione. Then, perhaps, you'll understand why we didn't tell you sooner."
Hermione sat and waited for them to explain, to tell her why she had been living a lie her whole life. She felt unusually calm as she was in a state of disbelief and shock.
"Before we tell you, you have to remember that everything we did was for your own safety." When Hermione didn't answer, Jane carried on. "As you know, there were some families that choose not to take part in the war and remain neutral. Your real parents were one of those families. Voldemort tried to persuade them to go over to the dark side many times but they always refused. Your parents were friends with many of his inner circle and it seems his most trusted followers were, in fact, not loyal to him at all. These devoted servants' were actually spies for the Order of the Phoenix. You know the family too, Hermione. You go to school with their son, Draco…Draco Malfoy."
Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. The Malfoys were spies for the Order and not loyal followers of Voldemort? She felt like she couldn't breathe. She wanted to leave but the curious side of her wanted to know more about her real family.
"When your mother found out she was pregnant she was overjoyed and then she learned she was having twins. She couldn't have been happier, not that it was much of a shock as there is always a set of twins born each generation. She found out she would be having a girl, whom she would call Mia, and a boy, to be named Blaise. But when Voldemort found out, he ordered Lucius Malfoy to kill you and take Blaise to be his heir as punishment to your parents for not joining the Death Eaters. Of course, the Malfoys refused to let this happen. You see, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy are your Godparents. They told your parents of Voldemort's orders and, together, they came up with a plan. They decided to make it appear that you had been killed along with your uncle and myself in a house fire."
Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion. "You-You're my aunt and uncle?"
"Yes, we are," Jane said quietly, a silent tear rolled down her cheek. "The plan worked and it looked like we were all killed in the fire. We placed a glamour charm on ourselves and you to maintain the disguise, changed our names and came to live in the muggle world. Your mother was heartbroken when Albus told her that she wasn't allowed to see her daughter or her sister until the war was over."
"But you told me that you were an only child and that dad's family had died when he was young."
Harold placed a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder and waited for her to speak again.
"Far from it, dear, you see, your birthmother and I are twins which is why we were not surprised when she told me that she would be having twins. Your parents persuaded Voldemort to let them raise Blaise until he was of age and old enough to take over the Dark Lord's throne. Voldemort agreed, however, he kept them close and even though they were never branded with the dark mark, they were treated as his followers. So your parents became spies for the Order because without the dark mark, Voldemort could not control what they did and they could not be punished for betraying him.
"But now that your friend, Harry Potter, has killed Voldemort, it is time for you to return home to the Manor with your family. It is time for you to take your family name."
Hermione looked back and forth between Jane and Howard… no longer her parents, but aunt and uncle.
"Let me get this straight," she spoke slowly. "I am assuming that I'm a pureblood?"
Jane just nodded and let Hermione continue.
"I have a twin brother called Blaise and from the second family portrait in my dreams, I'm guessing I have a younger sister as well, for the past seventeen years of my life I have lived with my auntie and uncle under a false identity, the Malfoys are friends with my parents and on top of that, they are my Godparents?"
Jane and Harold nodded in confirmation of what Hermione had said. She sat unmoving, stunned and overloaded with information. Blaise…she knew that name but couldn't place it.
"You said my parents are friends with the Malfoys, which means that my brother would be friends with Draco Malfoy?"
"Yes, from what I remember, they are best friends," said Harold.
Then, all at once, it clicked. "Blaise Zabini, the quiet Slytherin. Isn't he half-Italian?"
"Yes, your father's side of the family is Italian. And yes, he is your twin."
As those words entered Hermione's overwhelmed mind, she could take no more and fainted, collapsing to the kitchen floor.