Hermione

Over several cups of tea and a hearty meal, she told her parents everything. About what Bellatrix did to her. About the friends she lost. She explained her complicated feeling for Ron. How devastated she was when she thought Harry had died and the war was lost. Her voice was gone by the time night came. Her mother crawled into bed beside her. Hermione snuggled into her embrace. It felt good to be loved.

It felt refreshing to wake from a good night's sleep. She felt well-rested for the first time since she came home. She looked at her clock and to her surprise, it was ten o'clock. She never slept in this late! She quickly cleaned up and got dressed.

Her parents were in the kitchen.

"Why didn't you wake me?" she asked.

"We thought you could use the sleep dear," Tim said. "It's not like you have school today."

"Are you hungry?" Beth asked. "Can I make you something for breakfast? Or lunch. It sounds like you haven't eaten well lately."

"No, I'm okay for now," she said.

Suddenly, the question burst to the surface of her tongue. Something she'd been wanting to ask for years, but didn't want to hurt her relationship with her parents because she loved them dearly.

"Mum, Dad," she said. "You have taken pains to make clear over the years how I look something like other members of the family. I have Uncle John's nose. Grandpa Smith's eyes. That though I may not look much like you two at first glance, I am very much your daughter."

Her parents exchanged a look of resignation.

"We had a feeling this question would come up sooner rather than later," Tim said.

"It doesn't change anything," Hermione said quickly. "I'm your child and that is all that matters. I don't care about whether my biological parents are magical or not. You're the only people I care about."

"That might change," Tim said.

"It won't!" Hermione insisted.

"Let's go into the living room," Tim said. "I'll be there in a minute."

Hermione took a seat opposite her mother. They sat in silence for a minute. Tim returned with a large brown bag.

"So where did you adopt me from?" Hermione asked.

"It's more complicated than that," Tim said. "One night in September it was raining quite heavily. Your mum and I were going over the schedule for our second day of practice. There was a loud banging on the door. A woman stood in the shadows. I never got a good look at her. She held you out into the light of the doorway. Hermione, you were covered in blood and amniotic fluid. It was clear your mother had just given birth to you."

Hermione sat riveted. "What did she say?"

"She said: 'The mother is dead. The child is not safe with me. Please take her!' The minute I took you from the woman's hands she dashed back into the storm."

"We tried to find your mother, dear," Beth said. "I used my connections with the police to look for recent homicides. Your umbilical cord had been crudely severed, so we assumed you were born very recently. We made inquiries about pregnant women in the area and found nothing."

"Of course, we then went to the police," Tim said. "They were no help, as there was a crime wave running through the area. They told us to turn the child over to the local hospital if we didn't want to care for you. But we were already in love with you."

"Your grandfather's uncle was still alive back then," Beth said. "He was happy to help expedite the paperwork to adopt you."

"Why didn't you tell me I was adopted?" Hermione asked. "I don't say this to be judgmental. I'm just curious about the lies."

"The way the woman said you weren't safe, suggested whatever happened to your mother was an ongoing threat," Tim said. "We didn't want you to start asking questions that might lead to trouble at some point. Now that you've faced the world's darkest wizard, we think you can handle this."

"Who do you think the woman is?" Hermione asked. "The woman who dropped me off?"

"Our prevailing theory is that she was your grandmother," Beth said.

"Her voice suggested old age. I also detected a hint of Scottish in her desperate pleas," Tim said.

"Do you have any other clues?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Tim said and held out the bag. "You were clearly a mess, but what you were swaddled in was easily wiped down. The exterior was impermeable to rain, but the interior was warm and soft. We looked for a label but couldn't find any. The edges are a little frayed but it is very sturdy. It was only after you received your Hogwarts letter that we wondered if the material was magically enhanced."

Hermione took the bag and opened it. Her heart rate quickened as she pulled out the red tartan cloak.

Her parents were watching her closely.

"I think I know who this belongs to," she said shakily.