Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused for a moment. Then they settled on her chandeliered ceiling and she remembered. Her heart sped slightly, but she stayed on top of her covers. She lifted her arm and clenched and unclenched her hand. There was a feeling like morning weakness there, but not something that would hold her back. Slowly she rose, testing the pull of her body.

Once on her feet, she looked at the room from the new angle. The room was quite bare and dull, now that she thought about it. She waddled to the desk on the far side of the room and examined its contents, noticing the books on it were about death, an odd subject in a bedroom she supposed belonged to her. She turned left, to look inside the wardrobe, but stopped when she saw the mirror hanging next to it. A chill raked down her back.

The mirror was covered with a black veil.

She knew all about old muggle myths, but none that she knew of extended to wizarding belief. The wives tale went that if a person died in a room their soul could get trapped in a mirror. To avoid this, families put black veils over any surface bearing a reflection.

Someone obviously thought she was going to die soon.

Faster than she could rattle Wingardium Leviosa, Hermione had stumbled out of the room, and into a nicely lit hallway, suddenly feeling very insecure about where she was. It stretched long; that much she could make out from the large curve it was making. The curtains to every window were open, spilling light into the wide corridor's marble floor and baby blue walls. Elegant chairs occupied a space against the wall every few feet or so, and even further away was a table. No living creature besides Hermione existed in that space for the moment, so she crept down the hallway to the open window.

The view outside was stunning: large grassy areas divided by a gravel path leading to a fountain of angels. It did little to calm her nerves, however. Still on edge, Hermione continued down the hall. The sound of a door closing far behind her made her jump and spin around. No one. Slowly, she turned back around, but not fully before catching a moving figure from the corner of her eye. She squealed this time, heart racing at the unveiled mirror and its staring reflection.

The young girl on the other side was breathing quickly, just like Hermione. Her hazel eyes were large and wide, innocence in a nutshell. This girl's hair, however, was very unlike Hermione's, with light brown color and soft curling locks ending at her waist. Her thin, pink lips were slightly parted in surprise. When Hermione raised her hand to her mouth, the other girl did so too, startling Hermione even further.

What is this…? Hermione thought. The other girl even had the same nightgown on as she… No… It's not me… it's not me… it can't be me… I don't look like this…

Oh, but it was her. She looked down and finally noticed the long hair surrounding her petite frame. She moved her hand along her mouth and over face, watching the figure in the mirror do the same. She watched as the Other Girl raised her arms and patted the fabric of the gown. She stared with deep intensity into her eyes, looking for some proof this wasn't real.

Click, click, click.

The sound of sharp heels against hard marble came to her attention.

"There you are!" A tall woman with the most beautiful brown hair Hermione had ever seen said to her. "Where have you been?"

Hermione backed away from the woman and her reflection.

"What's happening? Who are you?" She asked. The older lady looked hurt.

"Hermione," She said softly. "It's me, your mother. I've… we all have changed."

"Mum?" Hermione asked incredulously. Mrs. Claret looked at her small wristwatch anxiously.

"Everything will make more sense in a little bit; we're running late. Come, dear, you must get dressed." Her mother turned around abruptly and click back down the hallway. Hermione gazed at her mother's back.

Things were moving a little too quickly for Hermione to feel comfortable with. Why was her mother walking away from her? This concept of "later" had been floating around for the last 24 hours, and Hermione was wondering when "later" would turn into "now."

In a lightening decision, Hermione scurried after her mother.

"What is going on here?" Hermione pressed, on tip-toes at her parent's neck.

"There's no time to completely explain. Please, dear, don't ask questions until our guests arrive."

Hermione huffed in response. How is that a better time to ask questions?

They walked along the widely curved corridor, past open curtains and more antique chairs. Hermione wondered briefly if the house had been inhabited in the last few years, because everything was so pristine and not a speck of dust seemed to exist anywhere. She figured it was magic.

At the end of the hall two white doors with curiously placed golden doorknobs in the center stood slightly ajar. Mrs. Claret pushed it open and escorted her daughter into a large sitting room.

The walls were of regal designs, the same sweet baby blue of the walls outside interwoven. A matching set of sofa and arm chairs in white occupied the middle. Tall bookshelf, desks, and an ever more number of chairs decorated the room.

A man rested in an arm chair.

"Where did you find her?" He asked a little frantically.

"Why, I don't know. Where had you been hiding Hermione?" Mrs. Claret asked.

"I don't know where I was! I was locked in some dark room with veils over the mirrors!" Hermione said exasperatedly, having finally produced a question that might actually have an answer. To her frustration, her parents started laughing.

"Oh, silly old house elves and their myths!" The tall man said through his laughter. Mrs. Claret noticed her daughters face.

"Dear, you don't understand. The house elf is delusional; she probably thought you were dying." Her mother chuckled lightly again, confusing Hermione to no end. There's nothing funny about that! She thought.

"When are they going to be here John?" Mrs. Claret asked the man.

"In two minutes. Now," He turned to Hermione. "We should probably tell you something before they arrive." The man looked at Hermione meaningfully. Hermione took a step back, her guard raised.

"Before who arrives? What is going on here!" Hermione asked for the millionth time. Her mother whispered something in the tall man's ear. A strange look appeared on his face. He bent down so he was face to face with the young, confused girl and put his hands on both of her arms.

"Hermione, dear, I'm your father." John Claret told her. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

"Dad? What…"

"We've been changed. It's the spell… This will make sense soon, darling, I promise. Right now, though, we need to let you know that your name isn't Hermione." He paused a moment, to let it sink in. "Your real name is Clara. Again, I know this doesn't quite make sense, but it will. I promise."

Hermione-er- Clara realized that this didn't make the same impression as her changed appearance had. Perhaps she was too wrapped up in her questions to feel, but this was like being hit with a flower compared to the ton of bricks that had landed on her in front of the mirror.

"I see." Was all the young Claret said.

Crack! Duffy appeared in front of them.

"The guests have arrived." She bowed low before disapparating.

"Oh dear." Mrs. Claret began panicking slightly, looking around for something to fix. Hermione-turned-Clara's nightgown caught her eye and she hastily performed a spell transforming it into a blue dress with a thin Chinese flower design on it with simple beige flats. One tap on Clara's head un frizzed her bead head and tinted her soft cheeks. Ready to perfection in seconds.

"Now dear, do stay calm and try to be polite." Her dad said. The door doors opened and in stepped the first guest. Why wouldn't I be…?

The sight was the scariest she had ever seen.

Luscious Malfoy strode through the doors, arms wide with his weird cane in hand, greeting her parents.

He looked just as he had at the Ministry. His white hair was combed back smoothly and a mischievous look tempted his features. His grey eyes shone with strange warmth.

"John, how long has it been?" They greeted each other warmly. Too transfixed by her father and this man who had tried to kill her, Clara hadn't noticed Narcissa Malfoy greet her mother with kind words and a smile. The women had tears in their eyes, a sight that gutted Hermione harshly. Her eyes slowly moved across the small scene, to the door, hoping her thoughts were wrong.

Unfortunately, Hermione Granger was rarely ever wrong.

So of course Draco Malfoy stood by the door, also staring at his parents and the strangers they knew. She observed him, noticing his dreadfully pale appearance. His white-blond hair was combed over nicely, but his hollow grey eyes contrasted oddly. Then his eyes found hers. He looked confused, strangely. Something inside Hermione told her he knew she wasn't Clara Claret, or rather that Clara Claret was Hermione Granger.

"You must be Clara." The Malfoy couple was upon her now, Narcissa red eyed and Luscious looking stern.

"Oh child!" Mrs. Malfoy exclaimed before wrapping her arms tightly around the girl with a huge sob.

"Now, now, Narcissa, no need to scare the girl." Luscious told his wife. He was one to talk!

"We've missed you so much!" Narcissa cried. "I remember when you were just a baby, so small and fragile, you and Dra-"

"Clara," Her mother butted. "Why don't you show Draco around the grounds? We need to discuss a few minor details. We'll send Duffy to tell you when we're finished."

"What? I thought-" Clara began to protest.

"Yes, that's a lovely idea. Draco and Clara can become reacquainted while we… work some things out." Mrs. Malfoy chimed in. Clara stared glanced at Narcissa's hopeful expression from her parents pleading one before relenting unwillingly and walking out of the room, Draco quietly following.

"My, my, Mary. She has turned into such a rose…" The doors closed swiftly. Clara looked upon Draco, who she found staring at her. His face was extremely hard to read, and she was unsure he would say anything so she turned on heel and started down the hall. She needed to go outside and get air herself, because this day she was sure was about to get even weirder.

They went down the hall, footsteps off beat of each other. The scenery outside called out to Hermione's soul as she hoped that she was going the right way. Eventually the large wooden double door entrance-located in a large hall-was found and shoved open gratefully. She stepped out hungrily, thankful for the cool breeze of a beautiful morning and staring around at the lovely land.

Draco shuffled out uncomfortably behind her. He looked even paler in the soft sunlight. Clara led him down to the angel fountain, not only getting away from the enormous house, but exploring the unfamiliar territory.

"You know, don't you?" Clara asked Draco. He stared straight ahead.

"Yes." He answered stiffly. His jaw clenched tightly. Clara nodded her head. It was a shock, seeing this horrible boy in her house, her own parents greeting his at the same time. Only his odd silence had kept her from lashing out at him. She didn't know how she felt about him, but could sense his confusion, something they shared. Perhaps she could get information from him.

"Do you… do you know what's going on?" She asked tentatively.

"No." He answered. There was another bout of silence and then Draco said suddenly, "Will you stop staring at me?"

Clara had been scrutinizing him again. His irritable harsh words embarrassed her slightly and she looked away swiftly. What was with him? He was so on edge and… uncomfortable! It was nerve-racking to be in his presence.

However, that nerve-racking came to an end, because at that moment Duffy apparated, announcing the need of Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Claret's appearance in the drawing room.

The two had no idea what awaited them.

How was it? Please review! (it keeps me going)

The beginning of this was not originally what I had intended, but I had to get Hermione out of that room! You'll be seeing her ACTUAL bedroom space soon, as well as her real lineage!

Lots more Draco and Hermione to come!

And thanks to all who have reviewed! I really appreciate it!