A/N: Thanks to my beta!

Disclaimer: I don't own either King Henry or Hermione Granger, but I do own their babies, a few courtiers, Lords, and the Plot.

PROLOGUE

Hermione Granger ran through the halls of Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry, running from Dolohov and the other Death Eaters who were hot on her tail. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was not supposed to be separated from Ron and Harry, her two best friends.

Instead, here she was alone, running and fighting for survival, throwing curses over her shoulder and dodging theirs. She had no wish to experience a repeat of one of Dolohov's un-named curses as she had done in her fourth year. The war between the light and dark had started several hours ago with Lord Voldemort demanding that they give him Harry Potter. When they refused to hand over the boy who lived all hell broke loose.

She wasn't even aware of which part of the crumbling castle she was in. Everywhere she turned, she could hear the screams, cries and bangs of the raging battle. She was surrounded by the sounded of death and destruction echoing through the place she'd called home for seven years.

Hermione rounded a corner and a door appeared on her right. She did a double check over her shoulder, breathing a sigh of relief as she noticed she'd lost them-but probably not for long.

She quickly turned the doorknob and barreled through the door at full speed, slamming it shut behind her. She cast protective charms and a silencing spell, then leaned tiredly on the door to catch her breath. She knew that she would have to rejoin the battle, but she needed a moment to herself.

Still on guard, she turned around to see what room she'd walked into, and gasped in shock. If what she saw against the wall was truly the thing she'd heard Harry grumbling about for weeks when Dumbledore had supposedly destroyed it, she had to wonder why the old man had lied. But perhaps he'd done so to keep him from gazing into the mirror constantly, looking at himself with his parents.

She had read everything she could about the Mirror of Erised, of course, and she'd seen pictures of it as well. As she stepped toward it she felt a strange urge to look behind her, and saw that the door had disappeared. Now she was completely surrounded by stone walls, and she began to wonder just what sort of room she was in.

Looking about, Hermione realized that the Mirror was the only thing in the room besides herself. She held her wand tightly, and stayed alert as she warily stepped closer to it. The huge golden frame dominated the wall opposite her, and the Mirror was tilted slightly, so that the observer would have to look down to see into it.

Avoiding the reflective glass, her gaze roamed over the intimidating frame. Spotting the text she fully expected to find, she read aloud, "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi." She then translated it: "I show not your face but your heart's desire."

Sometimes even the smartest witch of her time could be too curious for her own good. Hermione was always somewhat doubtful about oracles and magical objects that could supposedly predict things, especially those which could predict her heart's desire. How could a mirror possibly know what she really wanted?

She looked directly into the center of the glass, and at first she saw nothing at all. She almost turned away in disgust, but then a figure began to form within the Mirror, and she could not seem to move as she watched it solidify. Her eyebrows raised in surprise when she spied a handsome young man dressed in medieval clothing and wearing a small crown upon his head. He seemed quite familiar, and Hermione racked her brain trying to think of where she'd seen him before.

Running through her extensive knowledge of history, both Magical and Muggle, she came to the realization that this very attractive individual could be none other than King Henry VIII himself. The era in which he lived, known as the Tudor era, had always been of great interest to her, yet she could not understand why the Mirror of Erised showed her this as her heart's desire. Surely the thing must be a fraud, for here was a desire she could never have.

Disgusted, Hermione wished to turn away, yet still her body would not move. The man stared directly at her, and as she continued to look she realized he held a small bundle in his arms—a child; their child, and there at his leg, a small boy clung to him and glanced shyly out at her as well.

When Hermione finally got the nerve to turn away, a booming voice called her back. From the Mirror itself came the following words:

Welcome, she who has the power to awaken me from within. You have been chosen for a special task, a task that will change history for Magical and Muggle alike, righting the wrongs made so many moons ago.

You must save the King from going down the path of destruction he took with his many wives. The beheadings were never meant to occur, nor the six wives. The lies, manipulations, selfishness and greed of the vile creatures that surround King Henry made him into the monster he became.

In truth, the King was meant to fall in love with a young girl name Mary Boleyn, but because of her sister's jealousy and the manipulations of her family her sister Anne came to court and ruined all

To prevent this treachery, you must capture and hold the King's heart yourself. In this time where you now reside, your knowledge, intelligence, and magical skills are wasted. With these skills and your caring heart, you could easily win the respect and love you deserve at the Tudor court.

As for Queen Catherine of Aragon, she was not meant to meet such a tragic end. She must be sent back to Spain, where she will live the rest of her days in her childhood home with her and Henry's daughter, Mary.

There is no time to consider this, my child, for your time here grows short. You must enter the Mirror now, before it is too late.

Hermione stared in complete shock. For once in her life she was at a loss for words. Besides, wouldn't it be totally ridiculous to talk to a Mirror? This had to be the most bizarre idea ever, but she could not restrain herself any longer, and she had to ask, "But how can I be the chosen one? Harry Potter is the chosen one, not me. I'm just a Muggle-born witch—a Mudblood—" she winced as she said the last word, but still she knew it to be true.

The fates have chosen a different path for you, young one. You were destined to come here today. The secret door does not appear often, yet you were able to find it. You know enough of magic to realize the significance of such things. There is no way to escape a destiny when it has been set in motion. The only escape from here is to move forward.

Hermione looked back to the place where the door had been, and saw that it had not reappeared. She took a deep breath as she turned back to the Mirror of Erised. "If I go where you wish, who am I supposed to be? How am I supposed to do as you ask?"

You will be the daughter of a book store owner near the castle of Westminster, the King's current residence. You will be arriving in the spring of 1522-March 30th, to be exact. Your date of birth will be the same. You will have ridden out on your horse, Shadow. Because your horse was spooked and you fell as it reared and bolted, the King will find you during a hunting trip.

The family you claim are ancestors of yours, and you look exactly like their daughter, whose name is Hermione as well, so no one will suspect who you truly are.

"Will I still have my magic?" she asked.

Yes, your magic will be retained. You will become the King's greatest treasure, his most favored gift, once he discovers all there is to know about you. Your magic will further secure your place by his side. However, you will not have need of your wand, as it will be far better if you use only wandless magic.

Hermione gasped. "How do you know I can use wandless magic? I haven't even told Ron or Harry about my skill."

I am the Mirror of Erised, Hermione Granger. I know everything about you. And I must warn you, Hermione's mother was a witch who died in child birth, and her father has kept you secret and schooled you on how to control you magic using the books left to you upon your mother's death. It was her dying wish that you should embrace your magical heritage, and your Muggle father was most adamant that her words should be heeded.

When you are found, everything will fall into place. The place you are now will become nothing but a dream, and the past will be your true home.

"Must I forget everything?" Hermione wanted to know.

You have no choice, young one. Good luck.

Hermione felt her arm reach out of its own accord, and her heart began to race as she felt the tips of her fingers upon the smooth glass. It felt almost as though she'd Apparated until her body hit the ground, and then she knew no more.