Summary: Hermione has always wondered from where her magical abilities come. As far as she knows there are no witches or wizards in her family. She researches her family tree but stumbles across a problem. When she learns the truth it changes everything. Have you ever wondered what it would be like if you'd find out everything you'd ever known was a lie? If suddenly the blood in your veins makes a difference to who you are? Does it change you? Will it change you? Does your blood really decide who you are and what you are to become?

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters, places etc. belong to the ever brilliant JKR. I just borrow them, create a story of my own and then put them back where I found them. Just rewriting the storylines for HBP and DH. Hermione centred. Enjoy!

Timeline: AU. NON-Canon. Set after OOTP. Those events didtake place. (Sirius is dead). Disregards everything from HPB and DH.

Pairing: Hermione/Bellatrix (eventually) Femmeslash

Rating: T/M

Chapter 1

It was the middle of summer. It was one of the hottest summers England had known for years, or so the weather forecasters kept telling them night after night. It seemed to be the main item on the news every night, as well as on the front page of every newspaper. It was as if suddenly a heat wave had managed to replace all the evil, despair and distress in the world.
Temperatures had risen to over 30 degrees Celsius during the day and the country seemed to melt under the lasting heat. The normally so nicely kept green lawns of her neighbours had gone a horrible shade of yellow as the council has restricted the use of water and people were told to stop watering their lawns.

The nights were sticky and warm, leaving people sleeping with their windows wide open, desperate to catch a trace of wind that wasn't there. Not even at the normally windy banks of the river Thames. It were those very banks of the river and the nearby beaches people retreated to, soaking up the rays of sunshine and enjoying the coolness of the water.
People were gasping for the much desired rain to come and wash the heat away but so far there was no sign that was going to happen anytime soon.

She sighed and ran a hand through her busy brown hair. Hermione wished for snow. She loved the winter. She was maybe one of the very few people who couldn't wait for winter to come. Not only because she could spend hours staring at the pure white flakes tumbling down but also because winter meant she was at Hogwarts. Summer holidays always knew a certain loneliness. Loneliness she knew her best friend Harry would share.

Hermione sat in a small back room of the Gravesend registry office. The clerk had let her in here over two hours ago, after reminding her to be careful with the paperwork. Before her lay several sheets of paper and one old book. The air conditioning created the illusion of a cool, soft air. She knew that outside awaited the uncomfortable confrontation with the summer heat.

Hermione's hazel brown eyes drifted back to the book and then to the notepad that lay beside her. It had several names scribbled down in it but her pen now lay untouched. She closed her eyes for a moment before carefully closing the book and folding the papers back into their original shape. She picked up her notepad and pushed it back in her bag. She stood up, left the room and found the clerk in the office down the hall. He looked up when she stuck her head around the door.

"Thank you. I am done. I left the things in the room," she smiled politely and the man returned the smile. She could see the pearls of sweat on his forehead and felt sorry for him. It was no pleasure having to be stuck in all day, during times like this, whilst others enjoyed the coolness of the Kent shorelines, or even the river banks. Hermione let her eyes dart around the room briefly before she turned around and left. She prepared herself for the confrontation with the heat as she stepped out of the registry office. It felt like a blow to her head as she stepped outside. She brushed her white skirt flat and readjusted her pink top before glancing from left to right.

She walked her way home, ignoring the chance to catch the next bus. She did not particularly enjoy the foresight of having to spend time in an enclosed space that had no air conditioning and would most likely smell of sweaty feet and two day old fish.

Hermione made her way through Gravesend almost blindly. She had grown up here, lived here all her live. She knew the city centre like the back of her hand. She automatically made her way home by walking down quiet roads and turning familiar corners. Gravesend was a town at the coast of Kent. Kent itself was known as the Garden of England with its beautiful beaches, rolling hills, wooded valleys and open landscapes. And it was those golden sand beaches that were Hermione's favourite place to be. It had several secluded bays and at times it was maybe the quietest place on Earth.

~()~

Hermione closed the front door behind her and stepped into the coolness of her parent's living room. The jingle of a familiar daytime TV show told her her mother was home early from the practice and as Hermione made her way through the lounge into the dining kitchen she found her mother preparing tonight's dinner.

"Mione, where have you been?" Katherine Granger asked as her daughter entered the kitchen. She turned around to look at Hermione and Hermione took this chance to have a quick glance at what would be for dinner tonight. It looked like a salmon salad. She smiled.

"Registry office," Hermione answered whilst opening the fridge and she found a bottle of water. She observed her mother's reaction. She could tell her body posture had changed. Her mother's spine had stiffened at the mention of where Hermione had been. "I am trying to research the family tree."

"Really?" Katherine asked without looking up this time. She was chopping some of the vegetables to go in the salad. Hermione would swear her mother was trying to cut the cucumber in such tiny pieces she would need a microscope to find them in her salad "Why?"

Hermione sipped from her cold water. "I have told you before," she said softly. "I want to know where..." She pause, hoping her mother would turn to look at her but she didn't "I want to know if there are any other witches or wizards in our family. I can't believe I am the only one. I can never be the only one, mum!"

Katherine slowly turned around. She looked at her daughter. Hermione was a spitting image of her. The same hazel brown eyes, the same brown curls. Looking at her daughter was as if she was looking at herself, twenty years back in time. "We have told you before that we don't know where it comes from, Mione. You asked me and your dad so many times. From the moment we learned you were a witch. Don't you think we tried to find out too?"

Hermione shook her head. She had heard those words so many times before. It had never felt right. She knew something wasn't right. She had always known. "There must be. Being a witch doesn't just happen. I see it all the time, at Hogwarts. There is always Wizarding blood in the family somewhere."

Katherine sighed. Her daughter had not only inherited her looks. She also inherited her brains and her stubbornness. This moment was again a reminder of that. Slowly she turned around; a smile perched on her lips. "Did you find anything?"

Hermione shook her head as she looked up to meet her mother's eyes. She knew her mother was trying to be supportive but she also knew her mother already knew the answer she was going to give. She still felt the disappointment she felt when she traced back the family for several generations. Her voice was trembling. "No."

Katherine put down her knife and walked up to her daughter. She wrapped her arms around her. "I'm sorry sweetheart," she whispered into her daughter's curls and pulled her closer. Hermione closed her eyes. "I understand you want to know more."

Hermione broke away from her mother's embrace and caught her eyes. The question had been burning on the tip of her tongue from the moment she came home. "What can you tell me about my grandparents, mum?"

"You mean my father?" Katherine asked, suddenly caught off guard. Her eyes suddenly changed, betraying sadness. She swallowed. "You never knew him, Mione."

Hermione nodded. Her maternal grandparents had died several years before she was born. When she was younger she had asked questions but her mother had never been really willing to share much. Over the years Hermione had learned that it was just too painful for her mother to tell.

She had grown up with her grandparents from her father's side of the family. The Grangers had been lovely grandparents. They had taken her out for trips to the zoo, to the park and the beach. They loved her like grandparents loved their granddaughter.

Hermione had saved the final bit of information till last. She didn't want to hurt her mother but she needed to know. For the past six years she had been wondering who she was and where the magical part of her came from. "I can't find anything about him, or his wife. There is nothing. I can't even find the name of their parents." She looked at her mother. "Nothing, mum, absolutely nothing. I can't even find a birth record for granddad!"

Katherine Granger shook her head. She looked away from her daughter and turned back to cutting up the salad. Hermione heard the knife steadily chop the vegetables. "I can't explain that, Hermione. All I know is that he was a lovely father to me and he would have made a wonderful grandfather to you. He would have been so proud to have such a beautiful granddaughter like you."

Hermione nodded. She sighed. "I'm sorry, mum" she whispered

"It's OK Hermione. We all want to know where we came from," Katherine answered and glanced over her shoulder. She smiled weakly. Hermione finished her water and quickly kissed her mother on the cheek before leaving the kitchen. She climbed the stairs to her bedroom and closed the door securely behind her.

Hermione strode across the room and sat down on her bed. She took the piece of paper out of her bag and unfolded it. She had drawn out a family tree with the little information she had managed to find today. Somehow something just did not feel right. She rubbed her eyes. She was tired and had a headache coming on. The heat in her room was terrible. The windows were wide open but it made no difference. Hermione sighed.

Adam McKenzie was the name of her grandfather, the man about whom she could not find any other information than his name and the date he died. He had married a woman named Jean Hamilton, her grandmother. Her mother Katherine was their only child and she married John Granger.

Hermione took her wand from out of her bag and rolled it through her hands. She wondered who gave her the ability to use it, who gave her the natural magic that was flowing through her veins. She wondered who had opened up this wonderful world for her; leading her into a life she never even knew was possible.

~()~

Her parents had gone back to work early the next morning. By the time Hermione came downstairs they were long gone. Her mom had left a message on the fridge, asking her to get some potatoes and milk. Hermione smirked. The usual way of communication when her parents were at work was leaving notes.

She made herself a simple breakfast with some toast and orange juice before leaving the house. It was still terribly warm outside. Many people had gone out to the beach again, looking for that desperately desired coolness. The streets of Gravesend were abandoned.
Hermione was dressed in a knee length black skirt and a white tank top and her hair was held together by a white elastic band. Her bag hung over her shoulder, holding both her wand and the so important piece of paper.

Hermione stepped back into the registry office with a sense of determination she had never felt before. Minutes later she was standing in the office of the clerk again. It was a different one than the clerk she saw yesterday and Hermione sighed. The lady looked up when she noticed Hermione standing in the doorway. She smiled friendly. "It is a lovely day outside and you are in here. How can I help you, love?"

Hermione unfolded her piece of paper. She knew her mother wasn't going to thank her for this. "I was here yesterday" she started and hesitated. The woman stood up from behind her desk and approached Hermione. "I am trying to research my family tree but have reached a dead end. I am not quite sure what to do next."

"What exactly is the problem?" the lady asked and Hermione's eyes shot to the name badge the woman was wearing. Julie. She was around the same age as her mother. Curly hair was held back in a loose pony tail and blue eyes peered over her glasses. "What's your name, love?"

"Hermione Granger," Hermione answered and showed the lady the piece of paper. Julie looked at it, nodding slowly. Hermione felt annoyed with herself and also with her mother. Had she been part of a Wizarding family it would have been so easy to trace her family line for centuries. Not it looked like she was lost somewhere in the dark. "It's about my grandfather, Adam McKenzie. I can't find anything about him. Only his name, the date he married and the date he died. I can't even a record of his birth or anything."

"That is odd indeed," Julie answered and she gestured Hermione to follow her. Hermione was lead into a different part of the registry office then were she was sitting yesterday. Julie had quite a pace going and Hermione began walking faster to keep up. Her heart was racing in her chest. "Even if your grandfather wasn't born in Gravesend we should still have some records of his birth, or at least something that has a date on it that will tell you what his actual date of birth is."

Julie held still by what looked like an old filing cabinet. She took a large set of keys from her pocket and searched through the keys for a minute or two before finding a tiny little metal key that fitted the lock. The drawer opened with a horrible shrieking sound and Hermione flinched. Julie rummaged through the drawer for a bit before finally picking up a dusty, yellow folder. She carefully placed it on the table and glanced at Hermione. "It may be that your grandfather changed his last name."

Hermione frowned as she eagerly watched how Julie opened the book. She saw handwritten names, lots and lots of them. "Why would someone do that?"

"Back in the day people could do that for several reasons. Maybe the family name was tainted by the actions of another person. Maybe the person did not wish to have anything to do with them," Julie answered as she flipped through several aged and yellow stained pages. She hesitated but then seemed to have decided Hermione could handle the nastier side too. "Sometimes people did it to avoid prosecution."

Hermione swallowed. The last thing she wanted was to find out her grandfather was a criminal. Her nerves only increased as Julie stopped flicking through the pages. Her finger was now sliding down a list of names. If this was a list of people who had ever changed their names it was a long list, Hermione noticed. She wondered why. Her heart skipped a beat when Julie looked up. Her blue eyes met Hermione's.

"I think I found your answer, love," she said slowly and stepped aside so Hermione could look at the list. "Your grandfather did indeed change his last name. And not just his last name, by the looks of it." She chuckled as her eyes drifted back to the paper, oblivious to Hermione's increasing anxiety. "If I had a first name like that, I'd change it too. Who'd name their child like that?"

Hermione's hazel brown eyes fell down onto the paper and she searched the list. After several names that meant nothing to her she suddenly gasped loudly for air. There, in the left row, she found her grandfather's name. Adam McKenzie. She felt her heart freeze in her chest. Julie's comment about the first name began to make sense as her eyes slowly drifted to the right column of names. The left column had been marked with "Known As", the right one with "Previously". Her stomach tightened as the name in the right column sunk in.

Alphard Black.

Hermione slowly shook her head. She had looked through the standard files of the registry office, looking for any sign of a Wizarding name. Abbott or Prewett. They were common surnames in the wizard world. She had found no sign of them. But now she found one of the darkest last names in the Wizarding world. There was no doubt in her mind this was a Wizarding last name. Nothing in her heart or mind doubted she had found her answer.

"Are you all right love?" Julie asked carefully when she saw how Hermione's eyes had widened in shock. She found Hermione's hand and squeezed it briefly. It was enough to bring Hermione back into the present. "Is this not what you had expected?"

"I..." Hermione stuttered and once again stared at the paper. It was really there. Her grandfather had been Alphard Black. Not Adam McKenzie. That was the man he had become when he changed his name. His first name did not ring a bell. His surname did ring loads. "I am not sure, to be honest" she whispered softly and took a few deep breaths. Julie looked at her, curiously. "I knew there was something." She folded her little piece of paper back up and pushed it into her bag. "This tells me a lot. Thank you so much."

She ran out of the room, leaving Julie stunned and surprised. She knew Gravesend well enough to know there was a small Owlery in a back alley not too far from the registry office. The lady who owned it was a witch but only other witches or wizards were able to tell. Hermione doubted there were many more of them in Gravesend. To Muggles it was just another odd little shop that happened have several owls.

She reached the shop only a few minutes later and stepped inside. The little bell over the door chimed and the elderly witch came from the backroom. When she saw Hermione she smiled.

"I haven't seen you for a while dear. How are things at Hogwarts?" she inquired friendly as she watched how Hermione picked up one of the quills and a small peach of parchment from her bag.

"Very well thank you," Hermione answered softly as she scribbled down a short message. "When I return in September I will make sure I will give Professor McGonnagal your regards." She looked up to find Molly Sheridan, as the witch was known by, look at her. "She was very pleased with your herbal teas last year."

Molly Sheridan nodded. "I dare say she will have been. Minerva always had a fine taste for herbal teas, especially the oriental ones" She took the piece of parchment from Hermione and rolled it up. She stuck out one bony arm and a large owl came flying down from a shelf in the corner. It had been asleep only minutes ago but now it looked bright awake. Its yellow eyes found Hermione and she smiled.

"Take this to Harry Potter," she said softly and the owl cocked its head, blinked and then it Molly Sheridan took it to the door. Hermione watched it fly away into the afternoon sky. She sighed. Her mind was working overtime. Her heart was racing in her chest. She bit her lip. She could dare ask Molly Sheridan. The old witch had proven knowledgeable about a lot of things, people and events connected to the wizard world.

"Anything else I can do to help you with dear?" Molly asked as she walked back behind the counter and began to rearrange some of her items.

Hermione swallowed. She had no idea how she was going to explain why she knew this name or how she had gained her knowledge. She watched as Molly cleaned her counter and decided to take the chance. "Perhaps. Have you ever heard of someone called Alphard Black? It sounds like a wizard name to me but I am not sure"

"I do not think I can help you with that, my dear," Molly answered. It stirred disappointment in Hermione. Molly took something from underneath her counter. She gave the small bag to Hermione "Please give this to Minerva when you return to Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded and managed to make a smile appear on her face. She had not expected to find her answers here. But she had questions that needed answering. She put the bag Molly Sheridan had given her inside her own bag, cherishing her wand briefly as she did so. "I will. Have a good day."

"And to you, Miss Granger," Molly Sheridan answered. "Please give my regards to Minerva."

Hermione left the small Owlery and returned home. She knew the owl had a fair bit to travel but she watched the sky in anticipation to see if the bird returned. Hours passed and her parents returned from work Hermione restrained herself from telling her mother what she had learned. The time was not right.

She had finished dinner with her parents by half past six and stocked her dishwasher to do her mother a favour. She retired to her bedroom after the eight o'clock news and listened to some music whilst reading some of her schoolbooks. Still there was no sign of the owl. It appeared Harry didn't answer her letter...

~()~

She had not told her parents she was going here. She knew they would question her about her reasons to come down to London for just one day. She had just told them she was going out for the day, to meet with some friends whom she knew from her former Muggle school. It was a lie. She had not spoken to any of her former friends for years. She could have gone to London without saying anything to her parents. They probably wouldn't have noticed she was gone anyway. They were working all day. Both of them. Again.

Hermione stood on the pavement and stared at the beautiful Victorian houses down this particular road. There was number 11 and 13. To the Muggle world the number 12 was hidden. It had caused somewhat of a stir at first but everybody has gotten used to it and the Muggles just accepted it was a strange little thing. And it was exactly number12 Hermione was desperate to get to.

Number twelve Grimmauld Place was home to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. It had once belonged to the Black family. The same family that shared its last name with her grandfather.
The house was protected by a Fidelius Charm, making it invisible to its neighbours. Hermione looked at the spot where the house was supposed to be, focusing on the thought of the house appearing. Seconds later Number twelve slowly appeared as if out of nowhere. Hermione crossed the road, climbed the few steps and then rushed through the front door. The silence of the house greeted her. The front door closed behind her and Hermione took a few deep breaths. It had been several months since she had last set foot in this house. It held some lovely, and also horrible, memories. The most horrible one of all was probably that it felt as if Sirius's ghost was lingering around her.

The front door led into a long hallway, which was still dimly lit by a chandelier. The wallpaper was still peeling, no matter how much cleaning they had done to make it habitable last year. The portrait of Sirius's mother hung in the hallway too, though safely hidden behind dark curtains. On one side of the hallway was the entrance into the dining room. Hermione remembered that room to hold a dresser with the Black family china. At the end of the hallway was a beautiful staircase leading to the upper floors.

"Hermione?"

The voice came from the dining room and Hermione recognised it as Harry's. She quickly made her way through the hallway and then stepped into the dining room. Harry was leaning against the table. His face lit up when he saw his best friend. Hermione smiled and ran over to him. She flung her arms around his neck and Harry was dragged into a powerful hug. She held him tightly for several moments until he patted her on the shoulder, whispering something about oxygen.

"I wasn't sure if you would be able to get away," Hermione said once she had finally let go. She looked at Harry. He looked as if he had grown another three inches this summer. He looked thinner than he had done before the summer holidays however. Clearly the Dursley's were still not feeding him properly. Added with the stress and pain of having lost Sirius, it was understandable Harry looked unwell. She frowned. "How did you get here?"

"I will be going to Ron's after today," Harry answered and Hermione suspected he had sneaked out of his aunt and uncle's house. It explained his trunk that was leaning against the kitchen top. Harry's green eyes darkened behind his glasses. His face betrayed his pain. Hermione could see the grief flickering in his eyes. "It's not like they care anyway."

Hermione respected his words by leaving a short silence between them. She knew it must have been difficult for Harry to come back to this house. The house where Sirius had lived, where had been a prisoner. The house he had abandoned to come to their rescue during the fight at the Ministry. It was the night that his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange killed him. It was the night the only family member Harry had left had been taken away from him.

"Why did you want to meet me here?" Harry asked and looked at Hermione. "What's going on?"

"You need to show me that family tapestry with the Black family tree," Hermione urged him. She had briefly laid eyes upon the tapestry when they were staying here last year but never bothered to really look at it. But she needed to see it now. "I will explain when we see it."

Harry went ahead of Hermione and they climbed the stairs to the next floor. There were three rooms on the next floor. There was the drawing room, a bedroom and a bathroom. It was that very bedroom Hermione had shared with Ginny during their stay here. But it was the drawing room that held the Black family tapestry. She followed Harry into the room and the first thing Hermione saw were the large windows that faced out onto the street in front of the house. But then her eyes drifted to the wall. And she gasped as the laid eyes on the family tree for the first time.

"What are we looking for?" Harry asked as he stood still right by the spot where Sirius's name had been burned away. He turned to look at Hermione. The empty spot of his godfather's name was too painful. "Hermione?"

Hermione had already found what she was looking for. Her heart froze in her chest. A mixture of fear, sadness and a slight feeling of disgust. She pointed to another spot. Another picture that had been burned away. She swallowed. "Alphard Black."

"Sirius's uncle," Harry answered, still not quite understanding what Hermione meant. "He was disowned and disinherited because he gave gold to Sirius when he ran away. Alphard Black is the brother of Sirius's mother Walburga and he is also the brother of Cygnus Black. And he is the father of..."

"Bellatrix, Andromeda and Narcissa Black," Hermione answered, feeling a sense of revulsion at the mention of Bellatrix's name "Yes, I know." She stared at the name of Alphard Black before she slowly turned around to face Harry. Her hazel brown eyes met his green. "He is my grandfather, Harry."

Harry frowned. "He is what?"

Hermione gestured at the Black tapestry. "Alphard Black is my grandfather." She slowly shook her head. Her eyes had filled up with tears. Her voice broke as the tears slowly slid down her face. She pointed at some of the darkest names in magical history. Her eyes were drawn back to Bellatrix Lestrange, once Bellatrix Black. To Narcissa Malfoy, once Narcissa Black. To Regulus, Sirius's brother. To Sirius. The last person to have been killed in the fight against evil. "This same blood runs through my veins and it makes me a Black heir."