March 1985

Ivanna Rosier was being led by the hand by her mother down the street of some muggle town. Her great-aunt Druella was walking beside her and so was her dead father's cousin by marriage, Lucius. Ivanna did not want to be here. She wanted to be at home —her massive mansion with a room almost as big as her parents' and all the toys she could ever wish for. She wanted to play with her cousin Draco and make him play dead when she set her toy wand on him. Although, her mother promised her that they would still get to see each other from time to time, but it wouldn't be often and that saddened her.

As the group grew nearer to the house that she was told would be her new home, Ivanna began to drag her feet.

"Now, now, none of that," her mother hissed. Ivanna looked up at her and frowned, her eyes ready to shed tears.

"I don't want to be here," Ivanna whined. "I don't want to live like a dirty muggle!"

Druella smiled. "My niece is wise," she then turned to Elena and pursed her lips. "Far be it from me to agree with someone much younger than yourself, but is this really the right decision?"

"I told you of the prophecy, Aunt Druella," Elena sighed. "Despite my reservations Evan was sure that it was about Ivanna."

Druella firmly nodded, sighing as the reasons for wanting to believe in Evan's assertions came from the blond man's mouth ahead of her.

"It's rather wonderful, don't you think?" Lucius said as they resumed their walk. "That one day our little Ivanna will be the one to lead now that the Dark Lord is dead? She'll also be in the same academic year as that Potter boy —as will Draco. They'll both make that boy rue the day that he lived."

All of the adults laughed. Ivanna hadn't been properly listening. Instead, she was focusing on the house that was coming into view and the walkway they were travelling on. Although only five years old, she wasn't stupid. She still heard things, and from what she had been hearing over the past few weeks was that this house would be her new home and the muggles who lived here would be her parents. People's minds had been changed to make it seem real. Only she would know the truth. Her and her real family.

When they arrived at the house, the door automatically opened for them. On the inside was Narcissa, her wand neatly in her hand and a generous smile on her lips.

"Ivanna, don't you look lovely."

"Thank you," Ivanna replied meekly. As she was ushered inside, she saw two people on living room chairs who seemed to be sleeping.

"Did they put up much of a fight?" Lucius asked as he went to stand by his wife. Narcissa scoffed.

"They're muggles. What sort of fight could they have possibly given me?"

Lucius smirked and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Yes, of course. Where's Draco?"

"In Ivanna's new room," Narcissa replied before calling upstairs. "Draco, love? Ivanna's here."

Thunderous footsteps for such a small boy raced through the house. A four, almost five-year-old Draco was halfway down the steps before his eyes settled on Ivanna.

"There you are! Come on then!"

Ivanna's face lit up when she saw him and Elena let go of her daughter so that she could run after the boy.

"Are you certain they are far enough apart to marry one day?" Elena questioned as she watched the children run off.

"Purebloods have done worse," Lucius answered nonchalantly. "They will be fine."

"Have their memories already been modified?" Druella asked as she peered over at the unconscious Granger couple.

Narcissa nodded. "Yes, and we've all been implanted in their minds as relatives. After Ivanna goes to school we can erase ourselves."

"Good," Elena exhaled with relief. "That will make coming to see Ivanna and taking her away for visits much easier." She frowned as she looked around the house and finally at the people who would be raising her daughter. "I still fear leaving her with these people. I understand why, and I support it, but what if they taint her?"

"That's what we are here for," Lucius assured her. "Once every two or so months we will take her back to make sure that she still knows and understands her purpose."

"And that she's loved," Narcissa continued.

Elena bit the inside of her jaw. "Especially that she's loved."

.

While everyone was consoling each other downstairs, Draco was having a difficult time of it upstairs. He had a toy dragon in his hands and had (with accidental magic) made its wings flap and caused him to fly. Ivanna, however, was not amused.

"I made it fly and you're not looking!" Draco fretted. Ivanna glared at him.

"I don't care about dragons. Everyone's making me go away. I have to stay here with the dirty people."

Draco frowned. He knew that his cousin would be sad about today. So was he. She was his best friend, but his parents had promised him that they would visit often and that she would come visit them too. He reminded her of this now, but Ivanna shook her head.

"It's not the same as living at home." She looked at him and said sadly, "What if you decide not to like me anymore while I'm gone?"

"Never," Draco said firmly —he even stomped his foot for effect. "I'll never not like you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Draco and Ivanna hugged. They hugged for a long time before they were interrupted by the adults.

"Ivanna," Elena kneeled in front of her daughter and placed her hands on her shoulders. "Listen to me, darling. The people that you saw downstairs? They're the Grangers. They're going to be taking care of you."

"They're muggles," Ivanna grumbled. The other adults chuckled and smiled at seeing their parenting in action.

"Yes, they are, and I'm very sorry about that. You're too young to understand, sweetheart, but you're going to grow up to do amazing things one day. Unfortunately, this is part of the way to get there."

"How long do I have to stay with them?"

Elena swallowed her disappointment. "For a long time, I'm afraid, but we'll come to get you every now and again. And once you're eleven you'll be at Hogwarts with Draco in Slytherin House. You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would."

"I thought so," Elena smiled, "and I promise that the older you get the more you'll understand. You'll come to see how necessary this was. How necessary sacrifices are. Your father understood and knew what it meant to sacrifice. Honor your father, Ivanna. Can you do that?"

Ivanna nodded. "Yes."

"Good. Now, while you'll always be Ivanna to me and to all of us, my little Ivie, your name to the people downstairs and to everyone else will be Hermione. Hermione Granger. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"That's my girl," Elena cooed and kissed her daughter on her forehead. "And remember that no matter what you do, no matter what name you now go by, you will always and forever will be Ivanna Rosier."


June 1991

Hermione dreamed about the night her mother left her with the muggles often. The night that, so she had been later told, her death had been faked. Now that she was eleven, almost twelve, her mother had made good on her promise to slowly reveal to her why things had to happen as they did. Every couple of months she was visited by her "Aunt Elena" or "grandmother" Druella or "Aunt Narcissa and Uncle Lucius." The latter two weren't too hard for her to adjust to since she did, indeed, call them Aunt and Uncle although they were more like cousins according the family tree. Sadly, her great-aunt Druella died three years ago, and last she heard her mother wasn't fairing too well either. It was why she hadn't travelled to see her in a while.

Her family was what kept her sane, not to mention focused on the purpose of the ridiculousness that was her life. Her father, the late Evan Rosier, had a Seer grab him on the street and, while in a trance, tell him of a young girl who would one day lead the wizarding world in the guise of a false friend after the fall of a great wizard. That very night his wife had told him that she was pregnant. Voldemort didn't believe in it, especially since he had no intentions of dying. Low and behold he did die —at the hands of an infant, no less. Between Hermione's parents and a few other members of her family, they produced the flawless plan to keep her safe and in disguise.

Hermione appreciated the effort that they went through, but at what expense? Her death faked, her old life torn from her, and six years of her life with people who weren't her family. Although, one thing she could say of the muggles was that they loved her. That and they cared very much for the health of her teeth. It was rather funny. Regardless, she would make sure that the sacrifices made to ensure her future was worth it. It had to be.

"Hermione, dear? Could you come downstairs for a moment?"

"Coming, mum!"

Hermione left her bedroom and headed down the hall and the stairs. She stopped in the middle of the latter when she saw a man who wasn't a "relative" standing in her living room. He was tall, was wearing purple robes, had long white hair and a beard to match, and sparkling blue eyes behind half-moon glasses.

"You must be Hermione Granger."

"I am. Who are you?"

Not that she needed telling who he was. Her mother had told her that someone from Hogwarts would come to explain her magical gifts since she was a "muggleborn." Hermione was surprised, though. She didn't expect the Albus Dumbledore to be the one to deliver such news. The only reason she knew the name and face was because her family had told her more than enough about him. That he had defeated Gellert Grindelwald. That he was the only wizard who might have had a chance to defeat Voldemort if that blasted baby hadn't done it first. That he was powerful and smart. That he was the Headmaster at Hogwarts. And, most importantly, to stay away from him.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I have some surprising news for you."

Hermione looked from him to her parents who were motioning for her to sit beside them on the couch. She nodded shallowly and descended the rest of the stairs in order to join her parents.

"Is it...good news?"

Albus smiled. "Why yes. Very good news. As I had been informing your parents, you, my dear, are a witch."

Hermione faked her surprise, an action she had been practicing with her mother for years to make it seem believable.

"I… I'm a what?"

"A witch," he repeated, "and you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Hermione continued to look flabbergasted as the man named Albus Dumbledore retrieved an envelope from the inside of his robes and handed it to her. She took it hesitantly and, with encouraging nods from her parents, ripped it open.

"So… Does that mean all the things that I could do…? I wasn't dreaming? My parents said that I had dreamed it."

"Only because they didn't understand," Dumbledore told her. "Tell me, what have you been able to do?"

Hermione shuffled on her feet. "When...I read sometimes? The pages turn by themselves. I don't have to move them."

Dumbledore's eyes were bright. "That's wonderful. Oftentimes accidental magic that children can do come from things you want the most."

Hermione couldn't help but think of Draco when he had made her stuffed dragon fly. There was another time when he had made cracks in his bedroom wall during a fight they were having. It would be amazing to see what he could do with a wand. Her too, as a matter of fact.

"Professor Dumbledore," Mrs. Granger addressed, "exactly how did you know that Hermione was a witch?"

"At Hogwarts there's a special quill," he said, "that writes the name of every magical child." Dumbledore then turned his attention to Hermione as he added, "I knew exactly who she was the moment she was born."

"That's amazing!" Mr. Granger exclaimed.

Hermione, on the other hand, wasn't amused. The old professor didn't say "what" she was. He had said "who." Not to mention he hadn't looked at her parents when he had said that last bit. He had looked at her. Did her family take in account this special book that recorded children? If they hadn't, there was now an even greater reason for her to stay very clear of this man.


Author's note: I've had this fic sitting in my docs for a while, so I decided to pop it out. I do like pureblood Hermione stories, so here's my take :)

-WP