Isabella Malfoy

The war has just ended. Hermione leaves to find her parents and bring them home, but a letter from the ministry informs her of their death. She drinks away her pain in the Leaky Cauldron, and finds herself in bed with a handsome stranger. Nine months later, a child is found on the doorstep of Malfoy Manor.

Disclaimer: As much as I would love to, I don't own the Harry Potter series. It belongs to the ridiculously talented and imaginative JKR.

Dear Ron,

At the moment I'm staying in an inn overlooking Sydney harbour. I've been searching for just over a year ... Every day I think about giving up and going home, but they're my parents. I did this to them, and I need to fix it. I need to bring them home with me.

I don't know what to say without getting emotional, I just wanted to let you know I haven't been eaten by a troll. I love you.

Hermione x

Hermione frowned slightly, and snapped her fingers. The owl that was sitting on top of the wardrobe flew down and sat on the desk in front of her. She stroked him gently, and he hooted. He was a Hogwarts owl, and she was borrowing him for the time being, while she looked for her parents. She tied the letter to him and opened the window, only to be greeted by a rather large tawny owl who pecked at her finger.

"Ouch!" She sent the school owl off, putting her finger into her mouth. "Darn bird" she muttered, as she untied the letter from its leg. She froze momentarily as she recognized the seal. The Ministry of Magic. Slowly she opened it, unfolded it, and read. When she finished, she folded it up and stuffed it into her case. Picking up the empty owl cage in one hand, case in the other, she disappeared with a crack.

"A large firewhisky please, Tom."

"Make it two," a man slurred from the shadows at the end of the bar. "On me."

Usually Hermione wouldn't let a stranger buy her a drink, but considering her current mood, she wasn't going to argue. She downed the entire glass, her throat burning.

"Another one." Tom eyed her suspiciously. He knew this girl, and it wasn't from the Leaky Cauldron.

"Yes, keep them coming for the lady" the man in the shadows slurred again. "I'll pay."

Hermione considered saying something, but decided against it. She had just spent the last year travelling round Australia looking for her parents, and she didn't have the money to drink herself stupid the way she wanted to.

After the seventh glass, she put her head down on the bar and started to cry. The stranger came out of the shadows, but her vision was blurry and she couldn't tell who he was. He sat down beside her and put his head on the bar facing her.

"Why are you crying?" he giggled.

"My parents died. Their plane to Australia got attacked by death eaters during the war."

"Oh," the young man said, seeming to sober up slightly. He sat up, then slumped down again, banging his face off the bar. Hermione giggled.

"My parents were involved in the war too," the man said, turning his head to face Hermione again. "They were bad, bad people. They made me bad," he hiccuped. "They're in Azkaban now. My father got kissed."

Hermione looked at him, and her eyes widened. "He got kissed? By dementors?"

"No, silly," the man giggled again. "By my mother. She loved him. She still does. That's why she went to Azkaban. She didn't really do anything wrong, she just loved my father too much. She loved him, and he loved ..." he hesitated, checking that Tom wasn't listening, and whispered "Voldemort."

Hermione fell off her chair, hitting the ground with a dull thud. She lay there for a moment in silence, before being overcome by hysterical laughter. The stranger joined her on the floor, and after a good few minutes, they both sat up and looked at each other.

"Who are you?" he asked.

Hermione giggled, and whispered "I think I'm drunk."

The stranger nodded, and as Hermione looked at him, her vision focused for a few seconds. She had caught a glimpse of his face, but the whole world was spinning and she couldn't put a name to it.

"Do you want to go upstairs, Drunk?" the man asked, with another hiccup. Hermione nodded and giggled, and he helped her to stand. As she leaned on the bar to hold herself upright, he slammed his hands down on the bar.

"Excuse me please, the lady and I would like a room for tonight." Tom rolled his eyes, and the stranger produced several galleons from his pocket. He dropped them on the bar, and Tom handed him a key.

"Top of the stairs, second left."

The man took Hermione by the hand and, stumbling and giggling, lead her to their room.

A/N: I know the first chapter is quite short, but this is my first fanfic, and I wasn't really sure how to start it off. Think of this as the prologue. Reviews would be wonderful! *hint hint*