IMPORTANT NOTICE BEFORE READING!: You will find that this story is AU and may (most of the time) steer heavily away from the original plotline. This story will be long and start from the characters time in first year. This will definitely be a Dramione fic. and may be slow to progress at times because of other things that should be happening within the story.
I have made subtle changes to the Hermione's features, such as changing her eye color, but plan to keep all characters personalities and distinctive features as close to the books as possible. If the characters may seem OOC at times I apologize for it is for the advancement of the plot but I will try and avoid it if I can. If the facts about a place or spell are wrong I again apologize for it has been a long time since I've read the books but I try and research so not to offend anyone and keep this story as realistic in the Harry universe as possible.
I am unsure how frequently I will update but I just had to get this story up because its been eating at my mind for months. The rating is M mainly because I'm a paranoid freak and there may be language or scenes not suitable for someone to stumble upon. Most likely there will not be Lemons or things of that nature mainly because it makes me uncomfortable to write. Hope you enjoy the story and happy reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter! All credit goes to J.K. Rowling, but the plot is mine.
The Hall of Prophecy had never seen a record such as this. It's been centuries since something of this caliber had been seen. Not since-
A man ran through the cold aisles, a glowing Prophecy Record in his hands. Yet this wasn't a normal prophecy, not by far. It was brighter than anything the man had ever seen before and was red hot to the touch, but that wasn't the only thing that made this prophecy different.
No, this glows bright red.
As the man reached the back of the hall he pulled out a wand from a pocket in his robes. With a small flick the once blank wall in front of him turned into a set of beautiful mahogany door. The doors were large and intricately carved with bright silver designs.
The man pushed open the door with haste, not even sparing the beautiful carvings a second glance. As soon as the doors were open it revealed a rather large room comprised of all marble, from the floor to the ceiling. The only thing in the room seemed to be a medium sized podium in the center. On the podium was a golden stand made to hold a Prophecy Record.
Crossing the room swiftly the man carefully set down the glass-spun ball in his hands and took a step back. Immediately there was a brief flash of red before a barrier surrounded the podium. With a quick sigh of relief the man turned on his heel and walked out of the room, the doors closing with a small bang behind him. What he didn't notice was the words that started to carve themselves on a small golden plaque on the front of the podium.
S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D
The Flower, The Dragon, The Lightning
Eleven year old Hermione Granger had never felt so out of place then in her own home.
It was considered a typical morning in the Granger household as Hermione silently took her seat at the breakfast table. Her father, Richard, was quiet as he sat with the morning paper poised before his face. Her mother, Laura, was too busy zipping around the table to even notice her daughter's presence.
There has always been a wall between the older Grangers and Hermione. They never truly bothered with one another unless it was deemed necessary. It was almost to the point that Hermione believed her parents actually went out of their way to ignore the child. Hermione had never truly belonged there.
She was a stranger in her own home.
"Hermione, could you please pass the salt?"
Hermione glanced up into the even amber gaze of her mother as they stared back into her dark blue orbs. She nodded her head silently before reaching for the mentioned object.
She respected her parents; there was no doubt about that. She always received the highest marks in school and was well behaved. She was the perfect child that every parent would want; except for the lack of friends. She even at one point entertained the fact that she was to perfect and that's what lead to her parents disappointment.
Before Hermione could even begin to lose herself in her thoughts there was a small, but brief, tapping at the window. All heads lifted to turn towards the sound but decided to ignore it for now.
Tap tap tap
Curious, Laura stood and walked over to the nearest window before opening it and sticking her head out. Suddenly she screamed in alarm and ducked as a small tawny brown barn owl zoomed into the dining area through the freshly open window. With a hoot the brown owl circled the table several times, disoriented as it knocked several things off the wall, before dropping a letter onto Hermione's untouched plate of bacon and eggs. With hoot of satisfaction and a job well done, the owl left as quickly as it came.
"Hermione?" She ignored her parents as she cautiously reached forward, picking up the letter as if it might explode. Fingering the smooth parchment Hermione gazed at the elegant scrawl in green on the back of the letter that was definitely not done by normal means.
To Hermione
13 Merry Lane, London
Hermione raised an eyebrow at the lack of last name on the address but shook it off. Turning over the letter quickly Hermione glanced at the unfamiliar wax seal before opening up the letter.
Dear Ms. Hermione,
It is my sincere pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Keep in mind Ms. Hermione that you are very special individual and we are well aware of your delicate situation to your lack of identity. Rest assured thought that fact will not affect your placement within our school walls.
Expect a visitor in the next few days to help enlighten you in your entry into the magical world and to give you the list of necessary Items for you to begin you journey at Hogwarts.
Term begins September 1st, we do hope to see you there.
Sincerely,
Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
A witch? There was no way she could possibly be one. The letter had said she was special. She had noticed strange things happening around her, but that didn't explain the letter. They were just everyday occurrences right?
Hermione threw that thought to the side for a moment blinked curiously at the again lack of last name. Lack of identity? She was Hermione Granger! She knew exactly who she was!
Yet she knew nothing at all.
She glanced up at her parents as they now stood tensely before her. Even from her vantage point she could see the clenched jaws and the wringing of her mother's hands, and that's when she knew.
She dropped the letter.
Since receiving her Hogwarts letter Hermione had taken up the habit of just staring out the window for hours on end. For a whole week she would sit unmoving and staring blankly out and lost in thought. It was during one of these days that she noticed it.
A cat.
The medium sized tabby would sit for hours on the fence to the Ganger home and just stare back, as if it knew exactly what had transpired. After receiving her letter Hermione's parents had proceeded to look it over and scoffed nervously. They were practical dentists why would they ever believe in magic? With this information in mind her parents had thrown away the letter and never spoke of the incident again.
So that is where Hermione found herself, gazing out the window with the Hogwarts letter itching at the back of her mind.
Suddenly the sound of the doorbell ringing caught her attention. As her parents were out she stood and with one last glance out the window she walked down the stairs toward the door.
The cat was gone.
Professor McGonagall had met many disagreeable Muggles in her day but the Granger had definitely placed high on the list. This entire week she had tried tirelessly to get permission to take Hermione out to shop in Diagon Alley but had been turned down numerous times.
It was time to take matters into her own hands.
McGonagall waited patiently at the front step after ringing the doorbell and smiled warmly as she spotted a petite girl with slightly bushy hair stick her head out from behind the door.
"Good afternoon Ms. Hermione, I am Professor Minerva McGonagall Deputy Head Mistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
At the announcement Hermione opened the door wider and stared starry eyed at the warm elderly woman on her front step. Minerva's smile widened as she saw the curious look in Hermione's eyes.
"How would you like to go school shopping?"
Hermione had never seen anything like Diagon Alley. It was like stepping through a portal and into another dimension. Hermione felt as if a veil that surrounded the world had suddenly been lifted and everything seemed so much clearer.
"This way Ms. Hermione." The young girl snapped out of her musings to follow the older Deputy Headmistress down the cobbled streets, careful not to stumble to much as her first time apparating was…less then successful.
"Hogwarts it a top notch facility for young witches and wizards to better understand not only their own abilities but the world of magic around them. First years are required to have a set of robes, the required books, and may bring with them if they desire an owl, cat, or toad…" As McGonagall explained the required material Hermione attempted to take all of her surroundings in.
Shops upon colorful shops filled her view and she barely paid any mind to the book list the older woman had handed her. The day comprised of opening an account at Gringotts Wizarding Bank (where she had found the goblins highly fascinating) to buying her books at Flourish and Blotts. Over all the day had been thoroughly exhausting, but they still had one last stop.
Ollivander's Wand Shop.
There was a distinct tingling of a bell as Hermione set foot in the dusty shop. Boxes upon narrow boxes piled high enough to reach the ceiling and even covered the view to the back of the shop. A thin layer of dust settled on almost everything except the small desk with a register upon it and a select few glass cases near it.
Hermione wrinkled her nose at the lack of organization.
"Oh welcome welcome! Come right in!" There was the sound of a few crashes and mumblings as an elderly man suddenly emerged from the stacks of boxes in the back. He seemed nice yet slightly unkempt with his gray hair as if he had scratched his head. He walked towards the front before shaking McGonagall's hand in a friendly manner.
"Ah Minerva! It seems like just yesterday you were in my shop receiving your first wand!" He said merrily. Hermione raised a brow at that. They seemed the same age with the possibility of the professor being slightly older, how was it possible for him to have sold the Deputy Headmistress her wand?
The Professor just smiled kindly, "Yes well you flatter me Garrick but were here to get a wand for Ms. Hermione here." She said giving a small gesture to the girl beside her.
At the mention of her name Hermione turned her gaze to the man and stuck out her hand warily. "Yes, yes! What a pleasure to meet you Ms. Hermione!" He then proceeded to, much to Hermione's discomfort, scrutinize her and mumble slightly to himself. "Small…petite…big eyes… I think I know just the wand for you!"
Mr. Ollivander turned and walked back toward a stack of boxes before pulling out a long black box toward the middle. He blew the dust off the top before removing the lid and showing her a stick of deep cherry wood. Hermione reached out and slowly took the piece of wood in her grasp and looked at it dumbly.
"Well go ahead! Give it a wave!" He urged kindly. With an uneasy glance toward McGonagall she followed the instructions and gave a small flick of her wrist.
"Eek!" Hermione ducked as a nearby vase flung towards her and smashed against the wall with a loud crash. She glanced up from underneath her hands to see Mr. Ollivander frown slightly before muttering a small, "No not that one."
He walked farther into the back before reemerging with another shorter brown box. He opened the box to reveal a smaller mahogany wand and urged her to take it. Again Hermione hesitantly took the wood and waved it quickly before ducking once more. This time a nearby mirror exploded as broken shards flew everywhere. The wand maker gave a disapproving click of the tongue before he stroked his chin in thought.
"Garrick," He looked up as McGonagall addressed him with a raised eyebrow. "Might I suggest a different wand?" Mr. Olliviander looked confused for a moment before finally he snapped his fingers and reached into his pocket for a short golden key.
He walked over to one of the glass display cases by the shops window and placed the key by the lock. With a small flicker of gold light the glass protecting the wands on display disappeared as he reached to grab another box.
He walked slowly back towards the two women as if the box in his hand was a bomb. Unlike the previous two boxes, this one was sleek black with twisting golden designs and was devoid of any speck of dust. Hermione watched as he removed the lid with shaking hands before displaying to her the most beautiful wand she had ever seen.
It was average length, roughly 10 ¾ inches, and was as black as the night sky. At the bottom where the hand went were small silver designs that looked like they were constantly moving. Instantly Hermione felt the wand calling towards her and she found her hand unconsciously moving towards it. As soon as she had the wand in her small hand she gave it a tentative wave.
The reaction was instant as there was a small breeze as the air around the girl began to churn and glow a soft red followed by a tinkling noise as the shattered mirror repaired itself. Suddenly an object zoomed past and Hermione quickly moved out of the way. Turning their heads towards the direction they spied the newly reformed vase sitting neatly in its previous position.
"I remember every wand I've ever sold Ms. Hermione, and this one…is most special." The awe was barely evident in the wand maker's voice as the girl turned her head back towards the man. His eyes had a small twinkle of elation in them but his jaw was clenched tight.
Hermione tilted her head, her expression like a confused kitten. "Special?"
The wand maker's face seemed to lighten at this. "I see your expression Ms. Hermione! Yes, this is most special because this particular wand…belonged to someone else."
"How could it belong to someone else?"
Mr. Olliviander gave a tentative half smile at this. "You see this particular wand was made out of a rare vine wood that was struck by lightning centuries ago and has two brothers. Now all three of these wands don't have the usual cores found in a typical wand, oh no, this is where they are most special."
With this the wand maker walked behind the small desk and pulled out a drawer and set it on top of the desk. Hermione looked down curiously at what the man was trying to explain while McGonagall just listened quietly.
"The three cores are normally made out of these three objects." He gestured to the three things lying neatly on top of rich velvet cushion, starting with a silvery strand of what looked like hair. "This is Unicorn hair and produces the most constant magic," He gestured to the next object which looked like a small string. "This is dragon heartstring, capable of the more flamboyant spells while this," He moved to the last object which was but a small red feather. "Is a phoenix feather which is one of the rare cores and is capable of a broad range of spells."
Hermione was fascinated by the information but couldn't stop the question that was bubbling at the back of her throat. "But how does this make my wand special?"
The small twinkle in his eye grew larger to the point it reminded McGonagall of Albus as he leaned over the counter closer to the young girl, his voice barely a whisper, "Because young one, your wand doesn't have any of these cores."
The girl raised her eyebrow, "Then what does it have?"
Mr. Ollivander smiled before placing his finger to his lips lightly, "That my dear, is a secret."
Minerva had to suppress a small laugh at the put off expression on Hermione's face at having information withheld from her. She could tell the girl was about to snap but stepped forward to buy the wand before anything could happen.
"Professor?" Minerva turned her head toward her small traveling companion as they made their way toward the apparation point. It was getting late and the professor had no doubt that her parents were about to return home, but paused for Hermione to turn her head innocently before voicing her question. "Why is it that no one here has said my last name?"
McGonagall stopped briefly, taken aback by the sudden question. It was no doubt that the girl was smart, beyond her years even, there was no way she would miss such a minor detail. Minerva schooled her features back into stoic indifference and continued walking again. "That may not be my place to tell you, Ms. Hermione."
Hermione bit her cheek in annoyance and pressed on. If she didn't figure out a why the prospect would bug her for weeks. "The letter, Mr. Ollivander, and even now! " She huffed, "My last name is Granger, why can't people seem to acknowledge the fact?"
Minerva sighed tiredly. It wasn't that she wasn't expecting the outburst; she just wasn't expecting it so soon. The professor stopped and placed a hand on Hermione's back, gesturing for her to follow. Together they entered a small pub called The Leaky Cauldron.
Following McGonagall's lead, Hermione sat at an empty table and patiently waited for the professor to speak. It almost seemed odd to see someone of McGonagall's presence in a small pub such as the one they were in currently but paid it no mind as her desire for answers was more potent.
Placing her hands on the table Minerva gave a deep breath before she continued to speak. "I have already warned you Hermione that it wasn't my place to tell you this, but since you seem so-" McGonagall paused to find the correct word. "adamant in finding the answer, I will tell you."
Hermione leaned forward in her seat, nearly bouncing with excitement. This just caused the elderly professor's face to look a few years older. She didn't want to be the one to inform the young girl of her situation. With one more withering glance towards the young hopeful eyes she just decided to bite the bullet and just spit it out.
"Ms. Hermione…you're adopted."
Platform 9 ¾ was a busy place, filled with young children saying goodbye to family as steam momentarily rolled over them in small waves. It was here, through all the noise and commotion, that Hermione found herself, once again, looking out of a window.
She had always had a suspicion that she wasn't the Granger's true child, and when the Hogwarts letter came that lead Hermione to think a little more on the idea. Why else would they hardly bother with their only child? But if she was adopted wouldn't that mean they would still lover her as their own?
Apparently not.
After McGonagall had got the heavy news out of the way, she proceeded to tell Hermione that she was left on a doorstep, the Granger's doorstep, just months after she was born. (That explained the subtle differences in appearance to her adoptive parents, but then she just assumed she got them from a late grandparent.) According to the records at the Ministry, her birth was never recorded, therefore the lack of a proper surname. The only thing that they did know for a fact about her was that she is not Muggle-born as previously suspected.
As soon as Hermione returned home that day she dived into her new books, trying to learn as much as she could before the start of the year, as to not appear ignorant of her surroundings. Despite learning of her adoptions she felt that this was her chance to blend as during her trip to Diagon Alley led her to feel strangely at home. She even felt slightly….relieved to learn that she no longer had to prove herself to the Grangers as much as she had previously. It was like a weight had been lifted and Hermione had never felt better.
Ever thing seemed to be in order; the only problem was convincing the Grangers to let Hermione go to Hogwarts, as they do not yet know that Hermione is aware of her adoption. Together McGonagall and Hermione cooked up a plain to send a fake acceptance letter to the house from a prestigious (and made up) boarding school in London. Minerva originally disapproved of the plan but helped Hermione carry it out anyway and her parents fell for the trap swimmingly. They were more than thrilled to ship the young girl off and away from home, much to Minerva's annoyance.
Suddenly the warning train whistle caught Hermione off guard as the shrill noise caused her to jump, the book in her lap crashing to the floor. Bending over to pick up the fallen object she barely had enough time to look up as another noise caught her attention.
The compartment door opening.