Shards - Prologue
Summary: She was raised as a muggle, not unheard of in the wizarding world. A simplified beginning, similar to a friend of hers, if not for all the lies behind it.
So this a rewrite of a long dead fic of mine 'Collecting Jewel Shards' it won't be exactly the same as I originally planned since I've forgotten numerous future details for it, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. (these first few chapters will look slightly similar to the old fic)
A figure stood on its tiptoes, fingers curled around the top of the crib, big eyes staring down at the babe that lie within, currently sleeping peacefully. And most importantly she wasn't on her stomach. Her master had nearly burned her hand when he came home one night and found his last prized possession potentially suffocating against the little mattress.
Of course she hadn't gotten dinner that night, or any food the day after to make it clear if she did it again he wouldn't rethink the punishment next time.
Heln reached down into the crib, pushing her chubby finger against the newborn's cheek and watching the little thing twitch her nose in response, but otherwise not stir. She was a good baby, easier to take care of then the few she had been burdened with before. After hearing some of the horror stories from other house elves she had been nervous the moment the mistress had announced her pregnancy, but everything went fine up until-
A bang sounded from downstairs and Heln jumped nearly twice her own height as she heard a flurry of footsteps follow the sudden cacophony of wood splintering, cracking beneath heavy boots that headed straight for the stairs. But they weren't the sound of her master's boots and the wards had gone off the second before the door got thrashed so violently.
She managed to take a few steps forward before the door burst open in front of her, far less explosively than the one downstairs. Her eyes fell on their dark robes, noting the lack of the usual mask she had become associated with in recent years. "You not suppose to be here! Leave!" she shouted, puffing out her chest in an attempt to make herself look bigger. A poor attempt given a wizard had never been scared by a house elf before.
"Out of the way, elf." One of the men stalked forward, pushing her little body aside, knocking her to the floor. Heln yelped from the impact, staring as he went straight for the crib. The baby. Master's baby...
As the other two started to walk past Heln bolted from the floor, launching herself at the nearest one with her mouth wide open. There was a shout when her teeth sunk into the flesh beneath the fabric of their robe, a hand pushing at her skull, trying to pry her off his arm with brute force. A poor choice. Her teeth dug deeper as she growled, right before another one got a brighter idea and flung a spell at her, causing her to go flying against the far wall; a single tooth wrenched from her jaw, still embedded in the stupid one's skin.
"Petrificus totalus!"
Her body went still as she watched the first grab the baby from her sleeping place, snapping at the second for letting a bloody house elf of all things jump him. "We've wasted enough time here. Let's go."
They disappeared with an audible crack.
/ / /
Hermione Jean Granger let out a sigh as she finally got to the end of the stairs, finally able to set her heavy suitcase down and roll it to the front door for the time being. She turned to look upstairs. "Crookshanks! It's time to come down!" she shouted, waiting until she saw her cat slink around the corner at the top of the stairs and start his own slow trudge down the steps. It would take him a minute or two to get down here without something to encourage him.
"Hermione?" her mother's voice came from the kitchen. "Are you about ready?'
"Yes, mum. Just waiting for the cat." Hermione tucked her curls behind her ear, where they stayed for a second before bouncing at the edge of her vision again, unruly as always. She sighed once more before turning to go into the kitchen to grab some food for Crookshanks for the trip to Hogwarts in a few days.
When she entered the kitchen though her mother was staring down at the counter top while her father stood to one side, whispering something into the woman's ear. She nodded for a second before raising her head to meet Hermione's eyes. The gaze made her stop in her tracks.
"Is something wrong?"
"No-" her mother began before stopping to shake her head. "Well, yes. We need to talk to you, Hermione."
"Sure. What is it?" she asked, no longer concerned with the cat food, much more worried about that look in her mother's eyes.
"This... may be hard to hear. But you're old enough to know that we're not your real parents. You're adopted."
She blinked. Well... that hadn't been something she would have expected. But at least this situation she was thrust into made more sense now. "Even if that's true, you're the ones that raised me. You know I'll always love you," she assured them, watching as a tear slid down her mother's cheek at her words. Why was she so sad? And... scared? "Did they come looking for me? Did they decide they want me back or something?" That would be a problem, because she didn't want to be pulled from the people that had raised her her whole life. But she wasn't old enough to be able to make her own decision in the eye of the court on that matter.
"No. They never will." A tremor ran through her mother's body. "You were put up for adoption because they died. Your mother when she birthed you. The lawyers never said anything about how your father died, just that he was."
"Oh." It was all Hermione could manage to say. It was the only real response she could muster after thinking the worst, only to realize there had been nothing to worry about. That... she was adopted. Her real parents were dead. They would never show up unexpected on her doorstep, asking to see her, talk to her, get to know who she had become outside of their guidance. And it wasn't because they hadn't wanted to raise her. It's because they were unable to do so, being buried in the ground and all that.
"Mrow." Crookshanks brushed past her legs, raising his head to look up at her as she turned her gaze down, contemplating.
"I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner-" her mother began.
"Who were they?" Hermione glanced up to see her mother had gone quiet.
"They didn't really tell us anything besides you might have some special talents," her father answered her, rubbing her mother's back as he spoke.
"So... they were wizards."
"Probably. I'm sure the Ministry can help you if you have any other questions, but they didn't even tell us your birth name when we took you in. Just asked us to come up with something ourselves."
Ah, typical of the Ministry of Magic, especially when dealing with muggles, giving even less information than they should. At least she could contact them to get the full story and they couldn't deny her since she was a witch and apart of the community herself.