I do not own Harry Potter.

It was all too good to be true, Hermione should have known something would go wrong. Harry defeated Voldemort, Ron finally kissed her during the final battle, and she was able to remove the memory charm on her parents, who she found in only three weeks of searching. She never in all her experience with magic, trolls, dragons and soul splitting megalomaniacs expected such a reaction out of her mild mannered oral surgeon mother.

"Where's my wand!?" Helen Granger, forty seven, mother of one Hermione Granger, only child of Phillip and Tabitha Cole, and most importantly muggle demanded as soon as she opened her eyes. Hermione took a hurried step back and raised her own wand in alarm but her father was already on her, a confused look on his face as he studied her closely.

"Violet, give it a moment." Troy Granger, fifty years of age, equally muggle father of one Hermione Granger, only child of Michel and Poppy Granger easily disarmed the war heroin and flicked his wrist, shutting the door with an audible click.

"Dad?" Hermione gasped as he tucked her wand into his pocket nonchalantly and moved gracefully to stand beside her mother.

"Where is Severus?" Helen demanded, her normally soft brown eyes ablaze with fury as she turned to her husband with her hands on her hips.

Hermione gaped at her parents, who were having a silent conversation through pointed looks and furious nods of their heads as if she weren't in the room. After a moment she couldn't contain herself any longer and shouted. "How do you know Professor Snape?"

"He may be a half blood but he is the last of the Prince line." Troy replied imperiously with a raised brow, turning to look at his daughter with a grimace. "Could he have made you any more comely?"

"What?" Hermione gaped at her parents, never were they what one would call snobbish. Her mother was from Bristol and her father was from a small village called Yatton, both attending university on grants and scholarships.

"Oh, I'm going to give Lucius such a nasty case of boils, Cissi will be playing healer for weeks!" Helen snarled, grabbing at her curly hair in frustration. Hermione was lost as she stared at her parents as if they were complete strangers.

"Violet, I think we need to explain this to our daughter." Troy nodded to the gaping brunette beside them, his wife turned to look at her daughter with a scowl on her face before shoving Hermione roughly into a chair.

"A memory charm?" Helen demanded, looking over her daughter's features critically.

"Mum. Are you okay? Is this some sort of side effect of the counter spell? Did I mess up?" Hermione asked worriedly as she reached out and grasped her mother's hands. Helen snorted in disbelief as she stood up straight and threw her hands in the air in exasperation.

"My little love, I'm not angry with you...well no that's a lie, I am angry with you. Why did you erase our memories?" Helen said in a much calmer tone as she moved to sit beside her daughter, years of memories coming back to her. Gymnastic meets, vacations, and bed time stories, along with a year in Australia with no daughter at all.

"I had to keep you safe." Hermione said in a broken whisper as she gripped her mother's hand as if it were a life line. "Voldemort would have come for you."

"The Dark Lord?" Troy asked sharply, moving to stand directly in front of them stiffly. She could never remember her father looking so intimidating before as he glared down at her critically. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"How?" Hermione gasped as her father pulled one of the chairs across the floor to sit directly in front of her, flinching at the sound of it scraping across the floor.

"Hermione, what I'm about to tell you..." Troy started, sharing a look with his wife before turning back to his daughter with a look of pity and taking her hands in his own. "We are not who you think we are, darling."

"Who...?" Hermione whispered fearfully and tried to pull her hands away but her mother placed her hands over her father's and tightened their hold.

"I was born Antonio Shafiq, your mother Violet Fawley...you are Sienna Shafiq and we went into hiding when you were only days old." Troy said bluntly, his blue eyes shimmering with sincerity, contrasting greatly with the severe scowl on his face.

"No...I'm a muggleborn." Hermione shook her head in denial as she once again tried to take her hands away but her parents refused to let go.

"You are not!" Helen snapped harshly, her brown eyes narrowed dangerously. She turned to her husband and nodded head the wand sticking out of pocket. "Ant, remove the glamours! I can't take you seriously with that muggle's ridiculous face!"

Troy rolled his eyes dramatically before standing up and waving Hermione's wand in a complicated pattern. Hermione's eyes widened comically as his skin started to bubble and shift, her father was growing in front of her very eyes. Antonio Shafiq stood before her, looking greatly more intimidating then Troy Granger ever could. He stood at least 6'4 with wide shoulders, his once brown hair darkened to a raven black that stood out against his pale alabaster skin. Her breath caught in her throat as he blinked his brilliant obsidian eyes. He turned and did the same to her mother and Helen stood with a bright smile on her face.

Helen Granger could never be described as a great beauty, but she was pretty in an understated way. Violet Shafig, née Fawley was absolutely stunning at barely five feet tall. She resembled a pixie with her dark red hair that seemed to explode from head in fiery curls. She had wide amethyst eyes that Hermione could not believe we're real, the way they twinkled mischievously. The mother she grew up with and loved was a tall, lithe figure but this woman was all buxom curves and she felt her heart constrict. She didn't look anything like either of them. They resembled something out of fairy tale, so beautiful.

"You next, little love." Antonio said kindly, his eyes focused on his wife, Hermione was struck dumb at how they shimmered with such love. With a much more complicated wave of his wand, Hermione crumpled to her knees. Her mother was beside her, making soothing cooing sounds into her hair but she couldn't focus on that when she was in so much pain.

Antonio conjured a all mirror before her but she couldn't look at that, it felt like her body was being torn apart. The only other time she felt such pain was when she was under Bellatrix Lestrange's wand. She could feel herself shrinking and growing at the same time and her magic, her precious magical core was expanding and contracting erratically. After what felt like a lifetime the fiery pain dulled and she looked up into the mirror, her now bloodshot amethyst eyes wide in shock. She heavily favored her mother with her petite curvaceous frame but she had her father's hair, nose, and full lips. Reaching out, she touched her reflection, thinking vaguely she resembled a china doll and she didn't feel real.

"Oh, isn't she precious." Violet cooed, running her fingers through her black spiral curls.

"Is this real?" Hermione asked weakly, eyes still glued to her reflection.

Antonio kneeled down beside her and place a comforting arm around her shoulders as he smiled at her reflection proudly. "My girls, much better than those muggle's faces."

"You mean the Grangers are real people?" Hermione gasped, turning to look at her father for the first time.

"Oh yes." Violet nodded enthusiastically, flipping her vibrant red curls over her shoulder. "Severus found them, had a little witch a little older than you so we just took over their lives. It wasn't supposed to last so long but I'll just have to have a word with Severus and Lucius."

"Took over?" Hermione repeated blankly, blinking owlishly at her mother's nonchalant manner.

"Yes, we needed the mudblood's magical signature...just in case you let off a large dose of accidental magic." Antonio said flippantly as if it were obvious, missing that his daughter flinched at the slur. "Did it really take so long to eliminate the Dark Lord?"

"You...were against Voldemort?" Hermione asked hopefully, feeling a pool of dread settle in her stomach as she watched her parents visibly flinch away form her at the sound of his name.

"Well, he certainly had ideas." Violet said neutrally, inspecting her nails with a slight frown on her face.

"One of his followers wanted you." Antonio said slowly, his bright eyes flashing dangerously as he looked at his daughter. "You were meant to be a reward, of all things. So, we went into hiding until the You-Know-Who was defeated. Lucius swore under an unbreakable vow to never betray our plans. Severus was meant to retrieve us when it was safe, he was the only one who actually knew of our identities."

"Were you a death eater?" Hermione asked hesitantly, her eyes darting to her father's covered forearm against her will.

"No. We were strictly neutral with all that unpleasantness." Violet sniffed daintily as she sat back with her arm wrapped securely around her daughter.

"Unpleasantness?" Hermione demanded hotly, jerking away from her mother in outrage. "It was a war!"

"Were you involved in any conflict?" Antonio asked in a pained whisper, clenching his fists tightly in his lap. Without a word Hermione reached into her beaded bag and pulled out a hand full of crumpled copies of the Daily Prophet. Ten issues from the day after the final battle, her name and face flashed up at them along with her best friend and boyfriend's. Her parents looked at each other with matching frowns, Hermione remained silent as she watched the couple in front of her. These were not the people who raised her, even though she grew apart from them in the later years of her education she could safely say they were now strangers to her.

"War heroine?" Violet asked delicately, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on Hermione's forearm, right over the ugly scar Bellatrix Lestrange left her.

"I hate it, I left as soon as I could to find you but..." Hermione said in a pained whisper, unable to continue. Unable to explain the sense of loss she felt learning that the parents that raised her was nothing but an intricate illusion.

"This could be very complicated...unless we leave Hermione Granger behind." Antonio smiled slyly, drawing his daughters attention back to himself. He felt dreadful, knowing that his daughter obviously went through some unspeakable horrors but he still felt that the chosen route was best, even if they were in hiding longer than they originally intended.

"I am Hermione." His daughter spat through clenched teeth as she jerked away form him with narrowed eyes. "I fought a war! I have friends, loved ones, a boyfriend! I'm not just leaving that all behind because I suddenly have a new face!"

"A boyfriend?!" Her parents shrieked in unison, looking at her in horror.

"Ron Weasley." Hermione stated bluntly, lifting her chin defiantly as her parents exchanged an uneasy glance.

"A blood traitor." Violet scoffed daintily with a roll of her striking eyes, making Hermione's blood boil in outrage. Her mother who lived as a muggle for years, raising her without the help of magic was looking down on the man who fought beside her since they were children.

"A dirt poor blood traitor at that!" Antonio thundered, not allowing Hermione to retort to her mother's blunt statement. Their daughter looked between them and she glared at them defiantly as her father thundered on. "How far has this little...endeavor gone?"

Hermione was silent for a moment as she looked between her parents, trying to gauge if they were actually serious. If they were really upset about her new found relationship with her best friend of seven years. When they looked at her expectantly she sighed in defeat, her cheeks stained pink, and mumbled. "Not far...just a few kisses. We've been very busy since the final battle with all the trials."

"Trials? Why would you need to involve yourself in the trials?" Violet seemed to relax when she realized her daughter was still pure. She smiled brightly as reached out to take one Hermione's raven curls and twirled it idly in her fingers. "You're only sixteen."

"I'm almost nineteen." Hermione sighed petulantly but relaxed under the familiar touch, even if they didn't look or sound at all like the parents she grew up with they were still in there.

"No, Hermione Granger is nearly nineteen." Antonio said sadly, patting her hand with a sympathetic look on his face. "You were born 15 August 1981."