This is my version of Hermione isn't who she thought she is. I hope you enjoy. I don't own any of it.

Chapter 1

Hermione bolted upright in her bed. Fear kept her frozen in place. Her heart was racing and she was breathing heavily. She grabbed her wand of her bedside table and illuminated the small room. The light fell on the bed next to her where Ginny was sleeping soundly. Seeing her redheaded friend calmed her down as it made her realize that she did have a nightmare. However, defying her own logical mind, she needed to double check she was safe. As she slowly looked around the room, ensuring they were alone, she realized how pathetic she was acting. Hermione's breathing slowly went back to normal.

"She's dead," Hermione told herself, "She can't hurt you anymore!"

She kept chanting to herself for what seemed like forever. Finally, she calmed done enough to check the time. The clock on her bedside table read 2:30am. She hated herself for acting this way. It was so unlike her, but the dreams haunted her every night and left her mortified.

Her nightmares had started shortly after the Battle of Hogwarts. At first, they were only flashes, but soon they turned into nightmares of the day she had been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. After a week of waking up screaming, Harry and the Weasley's had insisted that she needed to see a therapist at St. Mungo's.

With the help of the therapist, Hermione had quickly realized there were gaps in her memory regarding her ordeal at Malfoy Manor. Her therapist had explained that this was common for people who had been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse and had warned her that the memories could return at any moment. However, he also felt it was important to retrieve those memories from her subconscious so that Hermione could heal emotionally. They had done everything possible to retrieve her memories probing her subconscious with every wizarding and muggle method possible. However, in the six weeks since her therapy started, she had made no progress. Until tonight.

Hermione was laying on a cold stone floor. The enraged figure of Bellatrix Lestrange was standing above her. Her eyes were wide with fear, anger and disgust. She was holding her wand, ready to throw another curse at Hermione. Lucius Malfoy was standing off to the side, watching in confusion. Behind him the figures of Narcissa and Draco Malfoy had their backs turned to the scene.

Hermione was staring up at Bellatrix who was screaming."I am going to ask you again. Where did you get this sword? Where?"

Hermione was ready to break when another curse hit her. She just knew she wouldn't be able to lie much longer. As the pain went through her body, she screamed, cried and plead for it to end. Sensing Hermione's failing determinations, Bellatrix Lestrange replaced her wand inside her cloak and pulled out a silver knife.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me, I will make sure you regret it," Bellatrix ridiculed her as she cut off the left sleeve of Hermione's shirt. Pulling her arm closer to her, ready to carve into it, Bellatrix' eyes fell upon the inside of Hermione's upper arm. For a brief moment, a look of recognition seemed to appear on her face. However, before Hermione could be sure of it, it was gone.

"You... you have been inside my vault at Gringotts!" Bellatrix screamed at her with increasing fury, "Tell the truth, tell the truth! What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife! What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME!"

"Are you sure you don't want us to come with you," Ron questioned her again carefully while Harry simply stared at her.

Hermione looked up from her bacon and eggs that she had been pushing around on her plate without eating anything. She knew Ron and Harry were concerned about her well-being. However, they had discussed this before and she didn't feel like rehashing it yet again.

"Yes, Ronald," she spoke sternly, "You and Harry have your Auror orientation at the Ministry today. It is important for you to go. I'll be fine."

Hermione didn't want their pity. Not today. She knew Ron was trying to be there for her. He wanted to be more than just a friend. Yes, they had kissed. However, Hermione knew it was simply out of fear in the heat of the battle. When everything was said and done -Voldemort was dead, most Death Eaters had been imprisoned and the nightmares had started - she just knew Ron couldn't help her. He was dealing with his own grief over losing a brother. Hermione wanted him to be that special person to help and love her. But she was too broken to let him.

Ron looked at her apprehensively. He and Harry were concerned about their friend. Hermione was too thin, her skin was pale and she had circles under her eyes. They knew she didn't sleep enough and had nightmare when she manage to get some rest. They were all struggling and mourning the people that had died. However, Hermione had been subjected to one of the worst curses possible, several times over, by the very women who had driven the Longbottoms into insanity with it.

"She'll be fine, dear," Molly Weasley ensured her son. "After all, I'll be there with her."

Hermione was grateful to Mrs. Weasley, who she regarded as something like a second mother. She knew, she was grieving the loss of a son, but she would always be there for those who needed her. And today, Hermione needed her.

After the war ended, Hermione had contacted the Australian Ministry of Magic to assist her in finding her parents. To her surprise, it had taken only a few short weeks to track them down. They had stayed right where Hermione wanted them to. Today, they would finally arrive at St. Mungo's via international Portkey. The healers would thoroughly examine them before restoring their memories. Hermione would have her parents back just when she needed them the most.

"Healer Johnson," Hermione spoke as her and Mrs. Weasley were approached by the aging wizard, "How are they?"

Healer Johnson gestured them to sit down in front of his desk. Hermione wanted to object. She was anxious and wanted to see her parents. Nevertheless, she resisted her urge to object and took a seat next to Mrs. Weasley.

"Well, I'll get right to it then," he spoke quickly sensing her anxiety, "We've ran a few tests and detected the spells you said you put on them. There shouldn't be any problem with restoring their memories."

Hermione was relieved. She had been worried that she had made a mistake when she modified her parents memories and they would be unable to restore them. Yet, she could feel a 'But' coming on.

"However, we also identified another spell that was put on your mother," Hermione listened to his words in terror, "It's a rather complicated spell but not irreversible. We just need your permission to remove it as well."

"What kind of spell is it?" Hermione asked holding her breath.

"It is a very complicated charm. Only a very powerful witch or wizard would be able to cast it. The spell, which is also linked to you, is hiding your mother's, as well as your true identity!"

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. She quickly turned to Mrs. Weasley as to make sure she was hearing correctly. Mrs. Weasley gave her a stiff smile as she took her hand, squeezing it hard to reassure her.

"Does that mean Mrs. Granger's and Hermione's appearances were altered?" Mrs. Weasley asked the question Hermione couldn't bring herself to say out loud.

"No, not quite. The spell is intended to hide ones true identity not change it. You and your mother still look the same. However, people that know the real you, Miss Granger, do not recognize you as such. All they see is Hermione Granger. The charm is therefore very efficient at hiding a person in plain sight. Miss Granger, we'll only be able to know who you truly are if we remove the charm from your mother."

Hermione was utterly confused. Who would have put this spell on her mother and her? Why would they need to hide their true identity? Did that mean, Hermione wasn't who she thought she was?

"But... Mrs. Weasley you recognize me?" Hermione stuttered. She looked at her friend's mother, pleading, praying for her to tell her the healer was mistaken. But Mrs. Weasley seemed just as confused as herself. Did that mean Hermione's entire life had been a lie? Did it mean Hermione wasn't really who she thought she had always been?

"Why wouldn't whoever did this, use a glamour charm on my Mom and me," Hermione muttered her question with hesitation.

"Miss Granger, glamour charms are very limited, easily detected and wear off after 24 hours. This charm lasts until it's removed making it more effective in the long run," the healer tried to explain. "Do we have your permission to remove the charm revealing the true you?"

Hermione simply nodded unable to articulate her answer.

A few minutes later, her head was still reeling with the recent revelations, Hermione followed Mrs. Weasley into an examination room. Upon entering, Hermione's heart soared. Her parents were there. They didn't recognize their daughter yet, but seeing them, knowing they were fine brought tears to Hermione's eyes. She had missed them more than anything and had been constantly worried about them while on the run with Ron and Harry. Now, they were finally back with her and would soon remember their only daughter. And maybe the mystery behind the concealment charm could be explained as well.

Healer Johnson squeezed past her and approached her parents. Accompanied by a nurse, he started mumbling and waving his wand. Hermione watched closely, waiting for a reaction from her parents. She was also waiting anxiously for what would happen to her mother when the other spell was removed.

Suddenly, her mother caught her eye. A smile formed on Mrs. Granger's lips. A smile that quickly extended to her eyes as she recognized her daughter. Hermione felt her own eyes tingle as her mother acknowledged her. She wanted to run toward her but was held back by Mrs. Weasley. Hermione turned around wondering what the witch was doing. As she looked into her face she was taken aback, Mrs. Weasley was looking alarmed.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Mrs. Weasley spoke.

"Your mother is Jeanette Lestrange," she gasped, "and... that... would make you Alexandra!"