A/N: So this is going to be a story where Hermione finds out she's a pureblood after the war has ended. I know a lot of people don't like this idea, so if you don't like, don't read. I've read some other fics like this, and I think this is the most subtle way of doing it. I must admit I was completely against the idea at first but I've got into it more now (Obviously). The perspective will be split between Hermione, Blaise and Draco, but if you're finding it difficult to understand, I'll start putting markers for you. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 1-

'What are you saying?'

I was sat in an office in St. Mungo's, talking with one of the healers. The war had ended several weeks ago, and after I had helped out with the trials for the death eaters, I began to enquire whether or not I could get my parents back after I obliviated them.

'You understand, Miss Granger, that your parents have been under the influence of that spell for almost a year now. We know the whereabouts of your parents in Australia, and we can counter the spell if you wish, as you were the caster and their only remaining family that they have. However, because of the length of time your parents have been under the spell, they may not remember certain things. One of those things may be you. Also, they will probably need treatment for the rest of their lives. In the worst case scenario, they will not remember anything at all and will need to be put in to a care home.'

I took a deep breath as I took in all of the information. 'What's the chance that they will be fine?'

'About five percent, Miss Granger. It does happen.' He assured me. 'But not often. It doesn't matter who counters the spell, be it the original caster or a powerful wizard, the chances are still the same. Have you made a decision?'

'They can stay in Australia.' He nodded and wrote it down in the file in front of him.

'Do you want me to organise some counselling for you?' I shook my head.

'No, I'll be fine. Thank you.' I shook his hand and left the room, seeing Neville walk towards me with a grim smile on his face. 'You okay?'

'Yeah. Just been to see my parents.'

'How are they?' He shrugged.

'Same as always. Have you made a decision about yours?' I nodded.

'They're going to stay in Australia. There's too much of a risk…' A single tear rolled down my cheek and Neville hugged me. 'I'm going to go home and get my things out of the attic. I'll see you around, yeah?' He let go of me and nodded. I walked out of the hospital, wiped away the tear that had escaped from my eyes and apparated to my neighbourhood.

Everything was how I remembered it the day I left. I sighed and walked up to my old house, unlocking the door when I arrived. On quick inspection, I saw pretty much everything was gone, minus the furniture. I ran upstairs and climbed into the attic, shrinking all of the boxes I had put my things in so they could fit in my pocket. When I had finished, there were only two boxes left in the room: one had Christmas decorations in it and the other I had never seen before, but had my name on it.

My curiosity getting the best of me, I sat down in front of it and opened it up to find baby things in there. My parents must have kept them from I was little, I thought. I pulled out a little white dress as well as white socks and shoes. At the bottom of the box was a silver necklace, with the letter Z on the chain as well as tiny diamond. Why would I have had a necklace with a Z on it? I left it in the box and took out a letter that was next to it, to find it addressed to the daughter of the household. I opened it, expecting it to be my parents' will or something, but I almost fainted at what I read.

To our dearest daughter,

We regret what we had to do, giving you away at such a young age. Please believe us when we say that we are truly sorry for doing so, but you must understand that it was all for your safety. The Grangers are good people, and are not able to have any children of their own: you will find love in their home.

Remember that we love you: always have, always will. We all hope that we can meet you again someday, when you are ready, and we will explain to you our reasons for giving you away.

Your loving Father, Mother and Twin Brother,

Tommaso Orlando Zabini, Aurora Violet Zabini and Blaise Xavier Zabini

I dropped the letter to the floor of the attic and led down on the floorboards. I took a deep breath. I was Blaise Zabini's twin sister, part of one the most powerful pureblood families in the entire Wizarding world. I looked down at my left arm, the mudblood scar almost gone now. I began to shake slightly as I remembered how it happened, but refused to let another fit take over my body. I took another deep breath.

I had just lost who I thought were my family, then gained another in the space of an hour. I sat up slowly, feeling slightly dizzy from my almost-fit. I shrunk the clothing and put them in my pocket. I put on the necklace, and the tiny diamond changed to deep red colour. That must mean something. I picked up the letter once more, the address in the corner telling me it was sent from the Zabini Manor. Surely a Manor like that would have a floo network? I went downstairs to the fireplace, searching for the floo powder. They must have thrown it away before they left for Australia. I got down on my hands and knees and found some on the floor.

I picked it up and stood in the fireplace. 'Zabini Manor.' I dropped the powder and disappeared, still holding onto the letter.

I was sat in one of the reception rooms, reading a muggle book that my dad had brought home from work for me. It was about a muggle detective and his doctor running around London, but surely someone who made deductions as excellent as his was definitely a wizard, right?

I put my bookmark in between the pages and looked up at the picture above the fireplace. It was of my mum and dad holding me and my twin sister when we were just born. I don't remember it. I don't remember my twin. I wish I did. My parents told me the photo was taken just before they gave her away so Voldemort wouldn't find her, and now Voldemort had been defeated, we could hang the picture back up. I always knew that there was something missing from me. At the age of eleven, just before starting Hogwarts, my dad told me that I had a twin sister. I was surprised, but it made sense though.

Opposite my bedroom, there was another room that I was never allowed to enter. I snuck in once when my parents were at work to find a girl's bedroom. No one was inside it, and everything was immaculate, like no one had touched anything in there for a decade. There was a voice behind me and I turned to see my dad looking at me. He didn't look disappointed or angry, just… calm. I asked him what the room was for and he told me. He wouldn't say who she had been given away to, in case she was at Hogwarts, but I was happier now I knew what the hole inside of me meant.

The war was over now, and I couldn't understand why she wasn't back with us. Voldemort had been defeated, so we no longer needed to fear him taking and using her. I looked at the picture once more: my twin had black hair and tanned skin, just like me. I remember looking at absolutely everyone in my year at Hogwarts, and there was no one who shared my features. Stupid glamour charms. I stood up and held the book, and as I looked at the photo more closely, I saw my little sister's eyes glow, and a message enter my head: She knows. She's on her way.

A few seconds later, I heard the flow network go off somewhere in the house. I dropped the book and ran as fast as I could in the direction of the sound. I arrived at my father's study, and saw a girl with a bushy brown hair led on the floor. I probably would have doubted that she was my sister if I didn't see her holding a letter in her hand with the Zabini seal on it.

Was she breathing? I turned her over onto her back, and was shocked to find Hermione Granger unconscious. I pulled back a second and skim read the letter. "…The Grangers are good people…" I dropped the letter and levitated the Gryffindor Princess up to her bedroom, realising she was my sister. As soon as I had put her under the covers, I saw the Zabini necklace that she was wearing. I smiled, seeing that the gem was red. Of course it would be: she was a Gryffindor. My watch had the same Z on it, put with a green gem, as I was in Slytherin.

The floo went off twice in succession, and I could hear my parents running on the floor above me, shouting my name. 'Blaise! Blaise! Where are you?'

'Her bedroom!' About a minute later, my parents ran in the room out of breath, but with smiles upon their faces.

'Is she really home?' I nodded, and my parents came over to look at their daughter for the first time in about seventeen years.