Author's note: I want to thank ToManyLetters in "beta-reading" this chapter for me. Thank you. This fic will be a long journey. Let's get the show on the road!
Prologue: Vanished
There were falling ashes and bricks. Cloaked figures around her sprinted and shouted. She shot spells around for her own protection. It is not that she was not an adept witch. The rumble and lights would confuse and terrify anyone. Debris fell. A trail of smoke whipped past her. Such eeriness. She had never experienced this before. Her spells and charms became pall. She wanted to die and not fight anymore. Yet, she wanted to survive. She ambled carefully to avoid deep cracks. There was a sudden scream. Narcissa Malfoy had fallen. The girl looked at the body of the beautiful blonde and turned away. She cursed under her breath and hoped not to be the next victim.
The journey looked endless. It is not fit to describe this as a journey, for there was not a certain destination. She just walked forward into nowhere. The weak light from her wand guarded her. She did not see the giant clock right in front of her. Oh yes, it was one of the most well-kept secrets of Hogwarts, if you must know. The ancient clock rang. The bronze pendulum quivered and swung rapidly. She began to faint. Her body slacked on the floor. She lay there serenely; completely unaware that she vanished from the mysterious corridor in a glowing light.
She heard whispers and murmurs. She felt her breath quickened because of anxiousness. Her conscious told her to wake up. She attempted to comply. Voices she had heard were familiar; but, strangely, she seemed to be unable to identify them.
A velvet male voice breathed, "Who is she, professor?"
Her arm tingled from the touch. Hermione opened her eyes at the touch. She was alarmed but not frightened.
"Excuse me," she breathlessly expressed at the boy, who stroked her right arm, stood next to Dumbledore. She was comforted from the touch. The boy ceased and took a step back. Hermione felt disappointed when he drew away. She felt somehow incomplete without his assuring contact.
The thirteen-year-old Malfoy politely looked up at Dumbledore. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and smiled knowingly. Hermione blushed as the boy stared at her body, thorough as a x-ray examination. He smirked. She thought he looked familiar. She smiled uncharacteristically. Lucius Malfoy indeed looked remarkably like his son.
She said, "I'm Hermione. Please to meet you."
"Lucius Malfoy," he drawled and nodded.
He added, "What is your surname, mademoiselle?"
"Granger." She replied certainly.
The boy looked at her inquiringly, "Granger? I have never heard of —"
The younger Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I have to end this short dialogue. It is time for you to go, Hermione. I told myself that you have to."
Hermione stared at the bearded man. "Off you go, dear," the headmaster said. Then, at the flick of his wand, she disappeared.