Hermione took in a big breathe of air as she opened her eyes, and immediately started coughing up the water she'd sucked in with it. A strong arm reached around her, helping lift her clear of the surface of the black lake. She wasn't entirely sure what she'd just missed, only that she was now cold, wet, and apparently wand-less while in the middle of the lake.

Not to mention, mightily upset with McGonagall; who's assurances that Hermione would be "just fine" didn't really fit with waking up in the middle of a lake infested with Merlin only knew what.

On the plus side, Viktor had his arm around her; she could get used to that. Though it'd be better if they were, say, cuddled in front of a fireplace. The look she was getting from Durmstrang's Headmaster however, suggested that wouldn't be happening anytime soon. Hermione decided to enjoy it for as long as she could, which was only until she was helped onto the deck where everyone had been watching from.

Before long she found herself wrapped in a fuzzy blanket and Krum-less again. Though drying and warming charms from Professor Moody had helped improve her mood a bit, she still didn't have her wand.

As soon as the little boat touch the bank she rushed off to her dorm, ignoring Madam Pomfrey's attempts to get her to the hospital wing for a quick check up. Wearing fresh, warm, and dry robes, she made her way to the infirmary; keeping a hand on her much loved vine and dragon heart-string wand.

Madam Pomfrey was soon checking Hermione over and deemed her to be "in fair shape, but not to over do it."

She was given a pepper-up potion, told to eat well today, and to have an early night. As she was hungry and somewhat lethargic, she decided that sounded like an excellent idea.

The next morning Hermione made her way down to breakfast considerably later than usual. Despite being in a charmed sleep for much of the previous day, her time at the bottom of the lake had tired her out. She was just making a start on some poached eggs and toast when an owl swooped in to the Great Hall and landed in front of her. The bird didn't wait around, flying off as soon as she'd untied the letter it was carrying. Turning the letter over, Hermione watched the wax seal with a large 'G' on it change colour from a deep red to gold just before she broke the letter open, and pulled out the parchment within:

Miss Granger,
In response to your owl regarding a potential link to the Dagworth bloodline, a lineage test has been arranged at the Hogsmeade branch of Gringotts, this Saturday at 1PM.

Parsnig
Archived Accounts Manager
Gringotts Bank

Hermione cursed under her breath, the next Hogsmeade weekend wasn't for 2 more weeks. Forgetting her breakfast, she turned to the head table and huffed in disappointment; only Professors Flitwick and Snape were still there. Spinning on her heel, she walked out of the Great Hall in search of her head of house.

The Professor was in her office, thankfully, and invited Hermione in without delay. When told of the appointment the Professor asked to see the letter, which she couldn't read due to a privacy charm; but that and the seal on the envelope were apparently enough to prove its validity. Professor McGonagall agreed without too much bother to ensure an escort was available for Hermione's trip to Hogsmeade. The speedy offer may have been helped along by Hermione mentioning that if she could spend a night at the bottom of the lake, a trip to Hogsmeade surely wasn't too much to ask.

As the detentions - or whatever it was - with Professor Moody continued, Hermione kept a watchful eye on him. She couldn't really find anything odd though, other than the fact that a month's detention was now in its 8th week. He hadn't said anything to her about it, just continued to supply new books and answer occasional questions she had as she read through them. Mostly he just sat at his desk, doing his own work and sipping at his flask every now and then.

Her studies with him had gradually slipped past just dark, they were now well and truly black. As if the curses she'd started reading about weren't cruel enough, she was now studying what were technically charms, but really were just ways to curse objects. It was quite horrific - and rather exciting - some of the things that a seemingly harmless thing like a book or piece of jewellery could be made to do to someone.

Hermione thought of the diary from second year, and dug into her studies. Professor Moody took another sip from his flask.

"Miss Granger," a not entirely welcome voice startled Hermione as she waited in the entrance hall for Professor McGonagall to take her to Hogsmeade. "Professor McGonagall asked me to escort you on your little rule-bending trip." Professor Snape informed her with his usual sneer in place. "Couldn't wait another week like everyone else in the school?" He asked, but walked away with quick long strides, not giving her a chance to answer.

Presuming she was meant to follow, Hermione hurriedly did her best to catch up. The professor was just unlocking the gates when she reached his side, breathing heavily. "I have an appointment with Gringotts, Professor." She huffed out. "The goblins don't really care for anyone else's convenience."

The Potions Master raised an eyebrow in a response that she wasn't quite sure of, then proceeded on his way to the village; his robes billowing as they always seemed to. As they entered the small town, he stopped suddenly and turned to look down at her, before speaking in a tone that was to be followed or else. "I have better things to do than wait around for students, Miss Granger. As such, I expect you to be waiting right here for me when you have finished with your little meeting."

Hermione did her best not to shrink under his gaze, and managed to squeak out a quick "yes sir." She then watched her teacher walk away to a building down the street, before making her own way into the small Gringotts branch.

As she was lead down a short hallway, she idly wondered if Snape was related to a goblin at all, the little creature's no-nonsense sneer seemed familiar. She waited a moment outside an unremarkable door before being lead into a small, but well furnished office. The goblin behind the polished wooden desk settled his glasses in place, and introduced himself as Parsnig, before encouraging her to sit and promptly getting on with the purpose of their meeting.

"A lineage test is fairly simple Miss Granger," he explained as he set a blank sheet of parchment and a small silver cup in front of her. Getting up to stand beside her, he continued, "I'll slice your thumb to draw blood for the chalice, then that will be used to check against our records."

Hermione nodded, and held up her hand as Parsnig drew a silver blade from his belt. The goblin took her hand, and looked it over with a sharp eye. She sucked in a hiss as he cut into the pad of her thumb, then waited a few moments as a small amount of her blood dripped into the silver chalice.

Holding her thumb in a handkerchief, she watched on as the goblin poured a small amount of a clear blue liquid into the cup, causing soft swirls of green fumes to rise for a second or two. He then poured the resulting blood mix on to the middle of the parchment and took his seat again. The parchment absorbed the blood, leaving only a small pool of the thin blue liquid.

A minute or two passed, and she was about to ask if something was meant to have happened when she saw a change in the colouring of the parchment. The blue liquid seemed to thin even more, and spread out to cover most of the sheet, as lines slowly came into view.

Parsnig shifted in his chair, and sat up straighter as the lines gradually came into focus. Hermione watched in fascination as the lines solidified, and writting began to appear. Another full minute passed before she could make out the words, and then the blue liquid glowed faintly and vanished.

The words were names, in two distinct lines: from her own name at the bottom of the parchment the lines split off following through her parents, grandparents, and great grandparents, before things started to get a little more interesting. The lines slowly came back together again over several generations, it seemed that her parents were fourth cousins; she wondered if they knew.

But the most notable thing was her great great great great grandfather 'Hector Dagworth-Granger' appeared just where the lines came back together. She'd started this just wondering if he might have been a distant relation, but it had turned out that she was a direct descendant of him; from both sides of her family. Her maternal grandmother even had Dagworth as her maiden name; the name had been split so that each of her g'g'great grandfathers - twins - could carry on a part of the line.

Also interesting were the short notes beside some of the names showing dates of birth and death, as well as 'muggle' or 'squib' in a few places. So it was quite clear that the twins had married muggle women; and so Hermione could see what had happened to her once great magical blood line. Their children had been squibs - "of course", she muttered to herself - and a long line of muggles followed leading to her parents. Then the line had rejoined in her, the first witch in five generations.

With it written so clearly in front of her, she came to a conclusion that perhaps she wouldn't have just a few months prior: muggle blood had stripped her family's magic, it took the line rejoining to overpower the mud and return the magic to her.

Hermione spent a few minutes looking over what was close to eight hundred years of ancestry, spotting a few familiar names in there: Prewett, Flint, Black, even Longbottom - which she was a little put out by. Eventually she looked up at the sound of Parsnig clearing his throat.

The goblin sat across the desk from her with a new stack of parchment. "As you can see, you are the sole heir to the House of Dagworth Miss Granger." He spoke up. "If you wish to claim your family line, we have some further matters to attend to."

She thought about that for a few moments before asking, "What exactly does that involve?"

-

Later that night, Hermione sat on her bed with her curtains drawn and a silencing charm in place, so she could have some peace to go through the few things she'd left the bank with. While the Dagworths were far from being as rich as families such as the Blacks or Malfoys, they also weren't anywhere near as poor as the Weasleys. As such she now had a new vault, as well as her personal vault, with Gringotts.

There was no property, it having all been sold when the last magical Dagworth had died, and the Gringotts account moved to archived status. But she had a list of various artefacts and other items that she would have full access to in a few years. Unsurprisingly, quite a bit of what was stored were suited to a Potions Master; having come from her g'g'g'great grandfather.

Being underage she was officially classed as 'heir,' but as the only living magical descendant of the House of Dagworth she had a little more leeway than most; which had given her access to a few things she wouldn't normally have until she was of age. She also now had a pouch linked to her personal vault, the contents of which included the ten thousand Galleon yearly stipend that was apparently traditional for all Dagworth heirs.

Having already examined the contents of the rolled up dragon hide tool pouch, she left it alone to take a closer look at her new locket. It was a curved vaguely triangular shape, about the size of a Galleon, made of silver with the green and black Dagworth crest etched and enamelled into its front face. She placed it around her neck so as to show the world her new position, the fine chain closing itself magically.

The last item was a thick leather bound book, again bearing the family crest and she smiled faintly at the motto, far more legible in the larger crest: Efficiunt clarum studia. That fit her so well, the blood test seemed almost unnecessary.

Settling back against the head board, she spent the rest of the night studying her family's long forgotten magics.

I'm sure you all hate me for taking so long, but this is the longest chapter yet, so hopefully that makes up for it.
I'm not entirely happy with the chapter, but thought it best to post it than let you all wait another month.
Efficium clarum studia is Latin for 'studies make a thing clear' and is actually the personal motto of one of my ancestors... I just though it suited Hermione so used it.