Revelations of the Tricksy Sort

Hermione sat on Severus' right at the long table. She didn't pay much attention to the décor around her, only noticing the Slytherin color scheme. She picked up a green napkin and laid it in her lap, determined to act normal.

House elves brought in trays of various breakfast and lunch foods and spread them over the table, filling it until there was more than enough for at least five people. Hermione chose a waffle (an American food she had fallen in love with one Holiday) and mechanically spread butter and maple syrup over it. Severus fixed his coffee first, stirring in cream and sugar. Hermione had never thought of him as a coffee kind of man, but didn't say anything. She reached for a cup and doctored hers in a similar manner.

"Albus will be stopping by soon," Severus said, after watching Hermione cut her waffle into smaller and smaller pieces. She looked up when he spoke, her eyes hollow and sad. "We have things to discuss, and then we have to go to the Burrow for an Order meeting." Severus looked down to butter some toast so he didn't have to look at her lost eyes.

"Would you like me to go back to my room after brunch then?" Hermione asked.

"Not at all, my dear. When I said 'we', I meant all three of us." He attempted a half-smile, but it didn't stay.

"Oh. It's about yesterday then?" She looked back to her waffle, pushing a piece in the syrup.

"Partially, yes."

"Alright then. I'll do my best to be helpful in that regard." She scraped her fork against her plate accidentally, and the sound made both of them shiver. Hermione set her fork down, replacing it with her cup of coffee. Silence stretched between them.

A few minutes later a loud pop signaled Albus Dumbledore's arrival. He walked to an open seat at the table as though he'd done so many times before.

"You have amazing house elves: they make the best crepes. May I join you?" he said, seating himself opposite of Hermione.

"Of course, Albus," Severus replied, conjuring a place setting for his friend, "you know you are always welcome."

"Excellent," Dumbledore returned, sitting on the Potion Master's left. He carefully placed his napkin in his lap before helping himself to a crepe smothered with jam. "Mmm, I always appreciate your hospitality, my friend.

"And Miss Granger, I give you my deepest sympathy for your loss. The Grangers were very warm people, very kind. I regret that I did not know them as well as others did."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said meekly. She met his gaze momentarily before ducking back to her coffee.

Severus and Albus talked about the Dark Lord's invasion of the Ministry through breakfast, but Hermione stayed quiet. She'd given up on her waffle, and one of the elves had replaced it with a small plate of toast. She picked up a piece and nibbled on the corner, trying to distract herself. For the most part, it worked, but at some point a tear escaped her tight control and journeyed over her cheek before she dabbed it with her napkin.

Severus caught the action, and decided that it was time to retire to the parlor for tea and distractions. He and Albus had finished eating, and had only remained to give Hermione more time to absently pick at her toast.

He signaled for the house elves to start cleaning up and rose from his seat. Albus and Hermione rose to accompany him. Hermione made sure she thanked each house elf before she followed Severus out.

Dumbledore took a seat in a large armchair that, judging by the comfortable manor in which he sat, he claimed often. Severus sat on the plush couch opposite of Albus and motioned for Hermione to sit beside him. He then reached over and poured the tea, asking his guests how they wanted it. Hermione automatically requested three sugars and stirred her tea exactly four times before taking a small sip and replacing the cup on its saucer.

When everyone had tea and had doctored it to their liking, Severus began the discussion. He leaned forward to place his teacup on the low table, then sat back and crossed his legs before turning to Hermione.

"As you know, Hermione, Death Eaters know that you are connected to Potter and that you are Muggleborn. They want you dead because of this." He paused a moment, and Hermione nodded her head. "But I do not think that is why they attacked your home yesterday."

Hermione tilted her head in confusion, but outwardly remained very calm. Severus expected that the trauma she'd endured the previous day was the reason for her lack of banter. He expected her to be full of questions and postulations, but she remained silent.

"We think that they have found out a certain secret that only a select few were privy to. Even you don't know of it, and it concerns you." Severus couldn't help but talk in riddles; he didn't want to say anything too blunt. Hermione was already dealing with so much, and while she was managing to convey outward balance, he could see just how distraught she was whenever she met his gaze.

"You see, my dear," Albus picked up, continuing where Severus had left off, "you are not exactly all you appear to be."

Hermione's eyebrow arched, an impeccable imitation of the Slytherin beside her. It was the most emotion that wasn't grief that she'd shown all morning.

Severus turned his body more fully towards her, and grasped her shaky hands between his. There really wasn't a way to sugar-coat what he and Albus were trying to explain, and he didn't want to confuse her any more.

"You were not born a Granger, my dear."

Hermione's cool demeanor faltered, and her mouth opened slightly. Severus' words reverberated in her head, and it took her a few moments to regain the cool façade that she'd created. Nothing would compare to losing her family, but learning that they were adopted parents was incomprehensible.

"You're telling me that the two people lying dead in my childhood home are not my parents? I am not the child of Rachael and Joseph Granger?" she said evenly, though Severus could hear the hurt and hesitancy there. Honestly, Severus was amazed that she wasn't in hysterics.

"That is indeed what we are saying, Ms. Granger," Albus answered, his expression understanding. He wanted to give her time to think and contemplate what he and Severus were telling her. He didn't want to have to explain it so soon after her parent's deaths, but time was running out. They'd already waited too long.

"Hermione… you are not Muggleborn. In fact, you are from one of the purest bloodlines."

"Really?" she asked, sarcasm finding its way into her tone. "And what line would that be…?" Hermione asked. She found sarcasm hid her inner turmoil. Her world was crumbling—every carefully constructed piece of her identity fell away and left her feeling empty.

"Your name, Hermione, your given name, is Soren Alexis Malfoy." Severus spoke slowly, monitoring her reaction. He didn't want to watch Hermione break down, but he was prepared for it. It was hard enough watching her force her emotions back and pretend that everything was fine, but he knew that at some point, her strength wouldn't be able to hold the flood of emotions that crashed through her.

"I'm related to Draco?" she asked, pulling her hands from Severus' hold, and folding them carefully and precisely in her lap. "And Lucius Malfoy is my…"

"Father," the elder men both said at the same time.

Hermione gulped and took a moment to process this. Her mind worked at incredible speed and managed the information fast. Her skin was a bit pale for Severus' liking, but he knew that couldn't be helped. He had expected her to cry or scream, and the silent Hermione scared him. Her silence reminded him of her brother. Of Lucius and Narcissa. He was surprised he hadn't noticed sooner.

"I'm a Malfoy?" She asked, more out of disbelief than actual curiosity. She knew Severus and Albus wouldn't lie to her, but she was having a very difficult time accepting their words.

"Yes, you are." Severus reached for her hands again. "And I am your guardian. I took you to the Grangers and watched you closely for the first few years. Then I checked on you occasionally in Animagus form, so you wouldn't recognize me when you went to Hogwarts."

"I'm a Malfoy…" she said quietly, her eyes focused on her lap. She pulled her hands back from Severus' and pushed her hair out of her face. "I'm a bloody Malfoy."

Malfoy, who tormented you and called you a Mudblood, is your brother. Lucius, who hexed you in the Department of Mysteries, is your father. Narcissa, who you've never even met, is your mother. How ironic.

Her hands burrowed into her hair and held it back tightly. She pulled at it for a moment, then took a deep breath. She exhaled slowly and removed her hands, working everything back into her tightly concealed mask of control.

"You said you watched over me?" she asked, her eyes darting back to meet Severus' dark, fathomless eyes.

"I did. I visited as often as I dared," Severus answered. "I used to fly to the tree outside your window and check in on you. Sometimes I stayed in the wood while you played outside."

"The owl," she said, remembering the owl's face and how often she saw it perched in her tree. "The beautiful barn owl with the bold markings. That was you?"

Severus nodded, smiling slightly.

"Severus was supposed to keep you someplace safe, someplace where you could grow up untouched by the cruelty you would have been born into," Albus said after giving Hermione time to process. "It was safer that he not do it himself." He took on an apologetic aura as he continued. "We could not save Draco from such a fate, but we could save you. The Malfoys cannot escape the reach of Voldemort, and so they are forced to follow him. When Narcissa became pregnant, they could not hide the knowledge from the Dark Lord. They knew their child would have no choice but to be part of that world. But when they realized that she carried twins, they came to me."

Hermione sat in silence, avidly listening, but still trying to keep her emotions tightly leashed. Severus was watching her, but she didn't feel awkward or like the object of scrutiny. He seemed almost parental to her, watching her reactions in an affectionate way. She tried to smile at him, and hoped that it looked more real than it felt.

"I brought the memory of that meeting with me. Would you like to see?" Albus asked. Hermione was still for a pause before she tilted her head forward in a deep, sure nod. Albus stood and reached into his pocket. He pulled out something tiny and held it in his palm. With a quick mutter and flick of his wand, the object engorged until it became a regular-sized Penseive. It floated in midair until he directed it to the center of the table. Hermione leaned closer to the bowl, knowing a split-second before the jerk that she would be pulled into the memory within.

Hermione looked around her; she was in Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts. His various trinkets and inventions dotted the room, and the portraits of past headmasters lined the walls. Memory-Albus was sitting at his desk with the Malfoys seated across from him. She moved closer to them just as Lucius started to speak.

"Albus, what do we do?" Lucius asked, his voice sharp but even. "The Dark Lord knows Narcissa is pregnant. He will want to see the children." Lucius looked as beautiful as always, but his face was filled with fear. Hermione had never seen such emotion on the classic face, and she felt a surge of sympathy for the man.

"Is there a way to save one of them?" Narcissa asked, gripping her husband's hand tightly. She turned into his shoulder, burying into it as he wrapped his arm around her.

"If there are two, then yes, one can be saved," Albus answered thoughtfully. "The second child can be taken to a foster family to grow up as their own. However, there can be absolutely no ties between you if it is to work."

Hermione moved closer to them, knowing from research that her presence wouldn't affect them. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Severus behind her. His being there reassured her, and she returned back to the conversation.

"So we will never know our child?" Lucius asked, his voice resigned but troubled.

"I'm afraid that during the first part of its life, that is so," Albus replied sadly.

"There is no way that I could ever see my baby again?" Narcissa looked down at her rounded stomach and placed her free hand there.

"Not necessarily. While the child must hide for many years, I'm sure that around the coming of age you could be reunited."

"Darling, that's almost twenty years," Lucius whispered, turning to his wife so they could share some privacy. Albus stood and moved to give the couple some time to decide. "Could we possibly part from our child for so long?"

"I will do anything to keep her from the Dark Lord," Narcissa replied, resolve embedded in her voice. "It's a girl Lucius, a girl and a boy. She would be abused if we brought her into our world. The Dark Lord could even…" Narcissa trailed off, looking away to keep her emotions under control. She found resolve quickly, turning back to her husband with reinforced will. "No. I will not have her abused. She will be cherished and respected. She will not carry this dark stain." Her sapphire eyes gleamed with looming tears.

Hermione's heart thundered in her chest as her emotions warred. She felt the anger rise as her birth parents chose to give her up, immediately followed by gratitude for sparing her the undoubtedly cruel life she would have led had they kept her. Disgust that the people who had tormented her were actually her parents. Regret that she only knew them as Death Eaters. Respect for their sacrifice. She pushed those thoughts and emotions away, wanting to experience the rest of the memory.

"Very well, my dear. We shall give her to Albus." Lucius accepted the decision, but it didn't stop him from regretting the life he would be absent from.

Albus spoke up, seeing that the couple had decided. "Severus mentioned that he has the ability to create a potion which will disguise the child for seventeen years," he said. "The potion will make the child resemble her foster family, but her blood will remain that of a Malfoy and she will retain her magic. On her seventeenth birthday, the potion will fade, and the original Malfoy figure will emerge. Think of it as an extended Polyjuice Potion."

Narcissa nodded. "We will do it. But please, make sure she goes someplace that will love her as she deserves," she said, her voice wavering. She couldn't keep her tears in anymore though, and cried into Lucius' shoulder.

Hermione moved to place her hand on Narcissa's shoulder, understanding the pain of great loss. As she met the place where Narcissa's shoulder should be, her hand found no resistance. The memory started to swirl and fade, pushing Hermione back into her seat at Spinner's End.

Hermione had to blink a few times and look around her to remember exactly where she was. She'd never experienced a memory in a Pensieve before, and felt quite disoriented upon returning.

When she recovered, she found both Severus and Albus staring at her intently.

"So, what happens now?" Hermione asked, reaching for the crescent moon pendant that she'd worn since her mother gave it to her for her eleventh birthday. She liked to feel it press into her skin when she closed her fist—it comforted her and reminded her of reality.

"That is why we need to meet with the Order. We need to figure out what would be best. Your birthday isn't far away, and after that you won't appear quite the same." Dumbledore answered. He took a sip of tepid tea, but cast a quick warming charm before he took another.

"Well, I… she… can't just disappear." Hermione faltered, unable to imagine herself without her insufferable bushy hair or her mother's honey eyes. The memory had hinted that she was in a borrowed skin, but she hadn't realized exactly what that meant. She couldn't picture herself with pale skin and white-blonde hair.

"You are right. There are different ways to create a plausible story," Severus replied, looking at her intently. He could see she was starting to come apart, all the stress pushing against her and unraveling her seams.

"We should consult the Order about how we will handle this. You of course, are invited to the meeting, as it is your life that will be under discussion." Dumbledore pushed himself up from his seat and brushed the wrinkles out of his robe. "I will call the meeting for after dinner—that will give you some time to relax and digest everything. We shall meet at The Burrow." The headmaster looked to them, and at Severus' nod he started towards the fireplace. "Until then, take care, Miss Granger. Remember, even the majestic phoenix experiences great sorrow and crumbles to ash, but she rises. You, too, will rise. " He waved before stepping into the flames.

Hermione still clutched at her necklace, her face somewhat blanched. She turned back to Severus, and folded her hands in her lap, forcing herself to remain calm. "So, what are we to do until then?" she asked.

Keep calm. Be Strong.

"We can talk, if you like. The hours will pass quickly then. Or if you would rather, we could go to the library; you aren't the only one who enjoys reading. A nap is also advisable."

"Would you tell me why you chose the Grangers?" Hermione asked, her eyes watering, but decision made. She wanted to know what it was that made him decide to leave her in their keeping.

If he hadn't chosen them, where would they be now? she wondered, but banished those dangerous thoughts. Best not think about that, Hermione. That's a dark road that will never exist.

"Of course, my dear," Severus said, reaching for his teacup. "I met your parents years ago in Muggle London. I had gotten off the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross, and was making my way out when I ran into them. I was twenty-five at the time, a few years into my teaching. I bumped into Joseph on accident, and tipped his trolley over. The blasted thing came undone and all their belongings spilled out onto the walkway. They were both very nice about the incident, and we started talking. They were headed home from visiting her parents, and invited me to dinner at their flat. It had been a long time since I had ever been invited anywhere by decent people, so I accepted the invitation, and we became friends." He smiled at the memory, then continued. "Since they were Muggles, they didn't know of the betrayals I had made. They didn't judge me, and it was very freeing. I enjoyed feeling like I was someone worthwhile."

"You sound as though you liked them a great deal," she added, releasing the pendant. Her voice was tight, and tears started to slide from her eyes.

"Perhaps we should have this conversation another time," Severus suggested, but Hermione quickly shook her head.

"I want to know. Please?" she replied, wiping the tears away.

"They eventually confided in me that they wanted a child, but were unable to have one of their own. So when Lucius and Narcissa were forced to give you up, I naturally thought of them." Severus leaned back against the arm of the sofa, pausing in his retelling. "Rachael was so happy the day I brought you to them. She burst into tears as soon as I put you in her arms."

Hermione was crying freely now, not even bothering to wipe at her tears. "Mum, I mean, Rachael always did dote on me. Almost too much."

"Yes, she was that type. You know, my dear, it is perfectly alright for you to still call her 'Mum'. She did raise you as her own," he said as he reached forward and placed his hand on hers. Hermione sniffed in return, trying not to let her emotions get out of control.

"I know, but with this new… life, I should probably sever the ties between Hermione and Soren. Besides, won't Narcissa and Lucius want me to call them 'Mum' and 'Dad'? Wouldn't it hurt them to be reminded that they gave me up?"

"I'm sure Lucius and Narcissa will want those titles—remember, they love you. They wanted to be the ones to raise you; they didn't want to give you up."

"I know, really, I do. I appreciate that they sacrificed so much to keep me safe. But it's hard reconciling that they're my parents. Lucius and Draco hate me."

"You thought I hated you too," Severus pointed out. "Hermione, we are pawns to the Dark Lord. He convinced us to give him our souls, and we did. Despite knowing better now, we still have to pretend that we are his. That doesn't mean that what we do is what we really want to. I've tortured Muggles and Muggleborns and Blood Traitors. I've pretended to enjoy it. I am not proud of that, but I can't change it. The Malfoys are the same.

"And as for letting Hermione fade, you should know she will always be a part of you. Soren is a different name, and you will have a different appearance, but you are one and the same." Severus tilted her chin up when she would have looked down, forcing her to look into his eyes as he spoke. "This doesn't change who you are."

"Severus? What if I can't figure out who I am?" Tears shone in her eyes, though she looked at him on her own. Severus removed his hand from her chin, lowering it back into its original place on hers.

"You are the same. What would change that?"

"Malfoys act different than Grangers. They're sophisticated almost to the point of snobbery. They are graceful, beautiful, and they have the world at their feet. Compared to that, I am plain and awkward. How can I fit in there? Do I change my entire demeanor to become like them?"

"My dear, you worry too much. You are neither plain nor awkward; how you can think so is beyond me. You have your own charm, and do not need to change. If you adapt to the Malfoy fashion, then you are simply incorporating their better attributes into your own style. You will be fine."

Severus patted her hand, and stood up. He walked over to the mantle and remained there with his back to Hermione.

"Severus, one more question."

"Yes?" He remained turned away from her. He knew what question she had for him.

"Why are you my guardian?" She started to stand, but Severus put a hand out, motioning her to remain seated.

"It hurt to make you think that I hated you," he drawled as he reached for a box on the mantle. His long index finger stroked the top for a moment, before he picked it up and turned back to her. "Secretly, I was very proud of you. I swear it nearly killed me to say those nasty things about you. The look on your face… I hope you could find it in your heart to forgive me." He strode back to her and perched on the coffee table.

"I bought this for your birthday, but I cannot wait until then. Consider it a present for all the birthdays I've missed." He opened the box and held it out for her inspection. A silver chain bracelet lay on a bed of white satin. The links were medium sized and a heart charm dangled near the clasp. Hermione looked up, questioning.

"You can enlarge the inscription with a simple Engorgio."

"I can't," Hermione said, remembering the splinters that her wand had become. Severus cursed himself for forgetting, and cast the spell himself. The charm grew until she could make out the wording.

To my goddaughter on her seventeenth,

with love, always,

Severus.

Hermione felt her wall crumble as the charm returned to its normal size. She looked back at Severus and mouthed 'goddaughter' before launching herself at him for a fierce hug. He was surprised at first, but returned the embrace just as strongly. Hermione sobbed into his chest, but he didn't care, grateful that she could cling to him and express her emotions when earlier she'd tried to hide them from him. While he was still somewhat bewildered as to what to do when a young woman cried, he found that holding her close seemed to convey all the comfort she needed.

A/N: There you have it: the longest chapter yet. Sorry it took so long to update-life is hectic and whatnot. Also, I edited the shit out of this chapter with the lovely Maleday's help. She really is a goddess. (She's got a lovely story going called The Savior and the Demon which you should totally check out if you're into Drarry).

I'm trying to work this story into a shape that makes sense, and I've come to the conclusion that I'll have to start practically new from here out. I just keep running into plot-holes that won't work properly unless I adjust. So, for all of you who have read the previous version of this story, kindly forget everything. I'll keep some things, but we're going in a new direction.

-POLL: Should I still have them Holiday in Italy? Or should we stay in Wizarding Britain?-

Thanks for the support everyone! Don't be afraid to leave comments or suggestions!

-Arciere