A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first Harry Potter fic and it's been a long time coming. Just to warn y'all, all of my Harry Potter fics will be Hermione centric. I'm going to pair her with maybe unexpected people or maybe very expected. However, no Ron. That's my one rule, no Hermione/Ron. That does not mean I'm going to portray him as an ass in every fic. Just when it fits into the plot.
Speaking of pairings, I have no clue who I'm going to pair Hermione with in this as of yet, although I do have a few ideas. If you'd like me to put up a poll as to who, just let me know. Also, I know there are some of you that may be waiting for me to update my other stories but I am working on them. Just a few more days of editing and they'll be ready to be re-posted.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Harry Potter Franchise. Nothing. The only things that would be mine are any OC's that may appear.
Prologue:
19 September, 1983, Monday
"Where are we going, maman?"
The blonde woman looked down at her daughter, identical blue eyes staring at each other. The beautiful woman bent down to her five year old daughter's height and caressed the young doll-like girl's silky, black hair with her left hand and held the girl's petite hand in her right.
"Ma chérie, we are going somewhere safe," she said in a soothing tone.
The child looked confused, "But what about papa? He's coming with us, too, right?"
The woman almost choked on a sob as she bowed her head to hide to budding tears in her eyes. She looked back up at her daughter with a smile on her face that didn't quite reach her watery eyes.
"Papa will meet us soon, mon petite chaton," the woman answered.
The little girl cocked her head to the side and opened her mouth to ask another question when there was a loud boom that came from the direction they had come from.
The woman quickly grabbed her child up into her arms and sprinted as best as she could in her full length ball gown. The child buried her small head against her mother's neck, suddenly afraid of looking up.
But look up she did and regretted it as her eyes landed on crazed looking men dressed in black robes chasing after them. Some of them, the girl couldn't see the faces of for they were wearing twisted, silver masks.
The young girl squeaked, "Maman!" and the woman didn't have to look behind her to realize what was going on. Supporting her daughter with one hand, the woman grabbed her wand from the hidden pocket of her dress and twisted slightly to shoot non-verbal hexes at those chasing them.
She ran faster thankful for the semi-invisible barrier behind her, blocking the men's hexes.
The woman finally came to the point that she was heading for and quickly apparated from the spot not noticing the hex hitting her side.
oOo
The woman was walking still, her feet aching and her side in excruciating pain as the adrenaline in her system had worn out and she could feel the deep gash on her lithe body. She made sure that her daughter wouldn't feel the rapidly flowing, warm blood.
"Maman, when is papa coming?" her daughter murmured.
"Soon," the woman answered, albeit weakly. "Go to sleep for now, ma chérie. We'll get to that safe place soon."
"Ok, maman. Je t'aime, bonne nuit," the girl mumbled, her eyes closing as she fell asleep almost instantly.
"Bonne nuit," the woman half sobbed.
It seemed as if hours passed when it was, in fact, only a few minutes when the French witch stopped in front of a wrought iron gate. The magical gate recognized her and swung open.
She walked up the winding trail, stumbling a few times before reaching the magnificent manor and knocked on the large doors with the brass knocker.
The door opened and there stood a house elf that came up to the woman's knees.
"OH! Lady Baudin, come in. Milly will get Mistress," the house elf exclaimed, bulbous eyes widening at the large blood stain on Lady Baudin's gown and paler than normal complexion.
Lady Baudin was directed by Milly to the large sitting room a little ways away from the front door. The elf ran off to get her mistress as Lady Baudin set her daughter down on the couch nearest to the fireplace.
Not a minute later, an old woman came running in as fast as her short legs would take her. She may have been elderly, but that did not stop her from rushing to the velvet seating.
"Merlin!" the elder woman exclaimed. "Milly! Go and get me the emergency potions from the lab will you."
With a pop, the elf was gone and the stern woman practically ran over to where Lady Baudin had collapsed beside the couch, her weak legs no longer able to carry her.
"Helene! Where is Maurice? And what has happened to you?" the elderly woman almost whispered noticing the sleeping child on the couch. She crouched down to pick Helene up by her arm and almost dragged her to sit on the couch.
Helene chuckled forlornly. "Oh Augusta, Maurice is…" she stopped there, her deep blue eyes tearing up, "Maurice is dead."
Augusta bowed her head and closed her eyes, taking in a shaky breath and letting it out slowly before looking up at Helene's trembling body. "What happened, Helene?" Augusta asked dismally.
Helene, with her hand over her mouth, took a moment to calm herself and looked over to her daughter and only child, weakly putting a hand on the child's small legs.
"They came, those, those mangeur de la mort écume!" she spat. "They stormed into my home but Maurice and I felt the wards go off. We ran into the underground tunnel beneath the dungeons. It bought some time, a few minutes. There were too many of them, they caught up to us and started to throw hexes. Maurice, he, oh Maurice, he pushed me into a hidden alcove near the woods by the manor. He," she stopped there and took a shuddering breath. Augusta grabbed her hand and held, giving her silent support. Milly popped back into the sitting room and handed the potions to her Mistress.
"Go on, Helene," Augusta prodded.
"Maurice ran ahead of us b-but he didn't have any wards up. They got him within a few feet of where I stood," Helene said, staring at the large, ornate fireplace. There was silence that filled the air between the two women. Helene let out a shaky sigh and continued, "I ran here with her," she gestured to the sleeping child, "and put a ward up around us when they started to throw hexes. As soon as I got to the apparition point, I let the wards down and apparated but it seems as if one of those hexes caught me." She chuckled here then winced where Augusta slathered the potion on her side where she had torn into her dress.
It was silent for a few minutes before Helene lifted a shaking, pale hand towards Augusta's working hands. "It's ok, Augusta. Nothing will help now."
Augusta looked up at Helene with wide bewildered eyes. "Then I will take you to St. Mungo's."
"No," Helene muttered. "Just make sure to take care of my daughter, please."
"But Helene-!"
"Please, promise me that you'll take care of her," Helene pleaded, tears running down her pale face.
Augusta sat next to her goddaughter before sighing, a few tears rolling down her eyes as well. "I will, I'll raise her."
"Thank you, Augusta, so much. And they'll be looking for her. You must make sure that they will not recognize her. But do not keep her heritage from her. She will need it when the time comes," Helene said so quietly that the older woman almost couldn't hear her.
Augusta nodded, "I will."
Helene sobbed, "Thank you, so much."
Augusta nodded and sat there, holding her goddaughter's hand until her last breath left her. Augusta closed her eyes, a few tears leaking through.
"Milly, would you and the others please get Lady Baudin ready for her burial," she said.
"Of course, Mistress," the house elf sobbed.
The manor was silent as Augusta picked up the sleeping child and kissed Helene's forehead once more before walking out of the room and up the long winding stairs. She stopped at an ivory door and opened it, revealing a pure white room, walking inside and placing the slumbering child underneath the fluffy white comforter on the large, snowy canopy bed.
Augusta left the room, not completely closing it, sighing for the turbulent times that she knew were to come.
oOo
Four-year-old Neville Longbottom crept through his home, careful to not let any of the house elves or his grandmother catch him. He had to find his plush hippogriff before his grandmother scolded him again for leaving his toys scattered around their large manor.
He remembered leaving it in one of the rooms on the second floor, probably in the Snow Room. Neville liked to call that room the Snow Room because it was pure white and was always a bit cold yet if you cuddled underneath the charmed blankets, it would feel as if you were sat in front of a fireplace.
He hesitated in front of the familiar ivory door seeing it cracked open but went on, opening the door wider to creep into the room. But he stopped when his hazel eyes saw a small lump underneath the white blankets with only a splash of curly, black hair to mar the pure white surface.
The boy shuffled into the room and tip-toed towards the bed out of curiosity. A thought occurred to him, that maybe he should find his grandmother to inform her but thought better of it. He wasn't supposed to be out of bed in the first place.
As he reached the bed side, Neville noticed a small, pale hand sticking out of the sheets. Walking closer, he pulled the sheets down a bit and found a small angelic face. Underneath the covers was a girl, no younger than he, with long black eyelashes resting on pale skin. He thought that her skin resembled one of his grandmother's magical, collectible dolls, the ones that used to play with him before his playdates started.
He stared at the girl's face not noticing that her hand had started to twitch. But he did notice when her eyelashes started to flutter and when she let out a gentle sigh.
Neville froze in place, his eyes growing large as the girl opened her eyes to reveal sapphire gems like the ones his grandmother had in her favorite necklace.
The girl lay there, not knowing what to do when she encountered the boy standing by her bedside.
Neville finally snapped into action stuttering out a response.
"H-hi, my name is Neville Longbottom. Who are you?" he asked.
The girl sat up and looked down at him then answered. "My name is Hermione Annette Baudin," she paused. "Why are you in my room?"
Neville looked confused then. "You're in my house, in the Snow Room."
"The Snow Room? Your house?" she inquired.
He nodded. "Yeah, I call it the Snow Room because it's all white and cold in here, just like snow. And you're in Longbottom Keep."
Hermione looked around the room. She noticed the room was not her own nor was it any of the rooms in her home. She looked at the boy next to her, a small frown gracing her face. "Do you know where my maman is?"
Neville was confused. "Maman? What's that?"
"Not what, who. My mama. Do you know where she is?" The dark haired girl looked exasperated as she explained.
"Oh," he uttered. "Well, I don't know who your mama is but I can ask Grandmother. Or I could ask Milly, my house elf."
Skeptical, Hermione nodded warily as Neville debated on who to call.
Knowing he would get in trouble if he went looking for his grandmother, the blond decided to call on his elf. Before he could, the door opened to the room and in stepped the very person he was anxious to avoid.
When Augusta walked in to the Ivory Room where the now orphaned girl slept, she did not expect to see her grandson standing next to the bed or the daughter of her goddaughter to be wide awake.
The matron stood still for a moment in the doorway, her gaze darting from her grandson to the girl and back. She finally settled on the boy who was not supposed to be out of bed.
"Neville, what are you doing out of bed at this time?" she berated.
Said boy had the decency to look slightly abashed. Seeing this, Augusta sighed and stepped forward until she was before him. She scooped him up, bringing out a small giggle from him. Placing him on the bed, the older woman turned to look at the now wary and clearly confused girl sitting up against the pillows.
"Hello, Hermione. My name is Augusta Longbottom and this is my grandson, Neville. Your Maman is – was – my goddaughter."
Little Hermione looked at the formidable looking woman with a piercing stare. Augusta couldn't be helped but be reminded of her late goddaughter and tried to keep her tears at bay.
After a moment of silence, Hermione finally spoke. "Where is she? And my papa? Maman said that he would meet us," she murmured. She could see the budding tears in the older woman's eyes and, despite her young age, could feel the tension in the room slowly build.
Augusta closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them, she looked at the gems looking back at her and braced herself for the worst.
A/N: So I'm going to end it there. It feels right to do so. The next time we see the two children, they'll be off to Hogwarts. Hermione's new, temporary identity will be explained in the next chapter as well so don't fret about that. We will also meet new characters that we all know and love. Or don't. There will be a few changes as this is an AU. I anticipate that this fic will be at least 35-40 chapters, if not more. And, just to let you know, all of the french comes from google translate. Please correct me if anything turns out wrong. I hope you enjoyed this fic and continue to enjoy it.