Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the plot; who wouldn't love to be J.K though?

.


The Brightest Fall

Chapter One

"We need something… someone new."

He just caught the lasts of what his partner was saying as she finished her little rant.

"Someone new?" he queried with no idea on what she was talking about.

"Yes someone new," She paused, narrowing her eyes at him, scrutinizing his expression. "You weren't listening were you? We need someone new, fresh meat in a sense."

"And what will you, as the butcher, do with this fresh meat? Getting sick of the original lot are we, finally starting to smell the rotting flesh?" he teased.

She rolled her eyes at him. "No, you fool. We just need someone special to rustle a few leaves or even shake the damn tree. It's getting a little boring since nothing's come up on our radar for a while, nothing to fight or defend ourselves against."

"Just because there isn't anything now doesn't mean nothing will come up sooner or later—"

"But I'm sick of waiting and so are the rest—"

He'd heard this part of her argument many times before so he interjected before she could get on a roll. "You're second in command of this academy! Have you thought about changing who we defend? Instead of the main concern being ourselves, since we're more than capable of fending for ourselves, we may as well do something for those who can't really see what they're up against nor have the ability to defend themselves?"

Her expression was soft, yet he knew she was deep in thought. Whatever it was she was coming up with, he would support her not only because he was her friend but he was profoundly indebted to her.

"What did you have in mind?"

She was actually considering his idea? This was new. This was going to change a lot, especially with what he had in mind.

"Well… when was the last time someone went scouting?"

She closed her eyes, trying to recollect the last time someone had gone on an escapade. "Uh, six months ago was the last recruit."

"And how are they fairing?"

"Well enough, still undergoing training."

"Right well, that'll be over before long and they'll need some realistic application soon enough."

They both walked to the edge of the balcony, their view spectacular from above the clouds. "Will you just tell me what you have in mind already?"

"Look below you, what do you see?"

She leaned over the balcony edge, "Mortals."

"Yes, humans. Weak, fleshy beings that are really no different to us except for the fact we have a set of undetectable feathery wings planted on our backs and extra ordinary abilities that come along with them."

"Your point?"

He went quiet, just looking down at the miniscule specks moving around on the earth below. He then turned toward his commander with a smirk. "Give me permission to scout."

She just glared at him after he made his evasive request. Who and what he had in mind didn't concern her for now, not until his plan was in action. He would give her the fresh breeze she wanted to rustle the loose leaves that surrounded her, maybe even bring a hurricane her way.

"Granted."

She turned on her heel and left him to his own devices, knowing that he would return to her with the information she was after once he was ready. But now, with the permission he was finally approved of, he could run amok and rustle a few feathers himself.

.


.

The late Autumn breeze caressed her skin gently as she left the restaurant, her belly full with food and shoulders bearing no weight of her troubles. It was amazing how therapeutic a simple dinner with friends could be, its effects marvellous.

"Hermione!" called a familiar voice from a distance behind her.

She turned on her toes to find Ron fumbling in a hurry to catch up with her. Once he reached her side out of breath, he stood tall to his full height and stretched his arms out.

"Lost your fitness have we?" Hermione teased.

"Hey...!" he tried to poke at her with a finger.

"So why did you come running out here like a toddler finding his feet?"

Ron gave her a weak warning look, much too breathless to even think up a retort, "Because you left this," he placed her wand in the pocket of her jacket which she was positive she had left in her bag, "And this."

She watched as Ron tugged a small box from his pocket, the size of his palm and waved it in front of her nose.

"Ronald…"

"Hey now, no full names please, otherwise I'll make a run for it thinking I'm in trouble." He joked lightly.

"You just might be in a moment."

"Oh come one 'Mione, it's your birthday."

"But wasn't your gift apart of what you all pitched in for?"

Ron cleared his throat before answering, "Yes and no. You know what Amelia is like, so, I had to keep this under wraps. Didn't even tell Harry!"

"Of course your girlfriend would be worried about you sneaking away and giving secret presents…"

He took her hand and placed the pale blue box in the centre of her palm, "But you're one of my best friends so she can't complain."

She laughed lightly at how mischievous he thought he was being, "Well thank you very much, Ron"

He beamed down at her and she couldn't help but return the gesture.

"Well, I think I might head back inside now… Are you sure you don't want me to walk you home..?"

"I'll be fine on my own; thank you Ron."

"If you say so…"

She knew how much he didn't like her walking home on her own, but he couldn't force her not to. And so he took her head in his hands and drew her forward so that he could plant a light kiss on her forehead, "Happy Birthday Hermione."

Ron turned away, glancing backward once more before kicking up a jog back inside the restaurant. Hermione was thankful for the beautiful souls that she was surrounded with; she'd never trade them in for anything.

With the little box in her palm, she lifted the lid to reveal a gorgeous silver chain. It was simple; and even though complex is something that everyone thought she preferred in most instances, it moved her.

But this was beautiful and if only she had thanked him while he was still with her. In a quick and practiced motion, Hermione latched that chain around her left wrist. She noticed a little portion of paper sticking from beneath the pillow that chain originally rested on.

Slowly shuffling her feet and picking up a pace, Hermione read.

'I know you may see this bracelet as near nothing because it really doesn't have anything great about it but I hope you can give it a chance so that you can make it great. There's a little part on the chain where you can add your own charm, and I would've picked something but you know what I'm like when it comes to choices.

So, Happy Birthday Hermione,

Love always, Ron.'

She couldn't really tell if the tears welling in her eyes were there because of the cold wind that had picked up or how touched she was by the note. Hermione giggled to herself as she took a grounding breath, rolled her shoulders back and made her way home.

Elated and full of joy, Hermione continued her journey home with an unfaltering smile on her face. The bracelet that she'd just received, now latched around her wrist, was the only form of light, reflecting the dim remnants of the street lights disappearing behind her.

She paused mid step, turning to observe the now eerily dark street. All and any form of light was nowhere to be seen. Something instinctual, deep within her gut told her to run, but yet she stayed put, trying to hear for any sign of life around her. The notion in her gut grew stronger and she finally complied, picking up her speed as she drew out her wand.

"Lumos—"

Before the bulb of light could even grow from the end of her wand, she was tackled from her side, being launched to the damp concrete of an alley way that had suddenly appeared beside her. Her wand knocked from her grip, gradually dimming out and leaving her alone in the dark with her faceless attacker.

Her body jumped into overdrive, reeling in on her primal instincts to protect herself. She looked back to the opening of the alley, but all that was found was a tall, brick wall closing her in with no way out. Where was her wand? That's all she needed but there was no chance for her to squat down and find it in the darkness, she couldn't take a chance in the small confined space with another who only seemed to see to her demise.

She drew a breath, attempting to calm her thudding pulse that swamped her skull, trying to listen for movement. Before she could even take a step, Hermione was shoved from behind to the ground, landing on her hands and knees.

There was no break in the attack, as soon as she was floored, a heavy boot connected with the side of her ribs with a tidal force, winding her and leaving her gasping for oxygen. There wasn't even a moment to spare an effort and breathe, before she knew it, she was taken by her hair and dragged up toward the face of her assaulter.

His heavy breaths fanned her face, swamping her nostrils with the heavy stench of alcohol. He paused as he held her high, and then throttled her in his grip before stopping again. It was almost as though he was being controlled, manipulated. Her insides were a mess, all bodily functions in a confused flurry as to how it was to get her back to normal.

Her lungs were like a shrivelled sponges yearning for water, to return to a more flourished state. Words failed to concoct in the depths of her throat and she was left to fend for herself, weak and in the grips of her assailant.

It wasn't over, she knew it. Her senses screamed out to the rest of her body to fight back, there was no chance of flight and Hermione was not one to give up. She tried to rock backwards, gaining little momentum to launch a kick at her attacker's knee.

Bad idea or what?

He groaned then roared aloud as he took her by the neck, throwing her at the nearest wall like she was a mere paper ball being tossed at a rubbish can. Her vocal chords did what they could to cry out as her temple collided with wet, jagged brick wall.

The warm trickle of blood that snaked its way down the side of her jaw and her dwindling consciousness told her that she was losing. But that didn't mean that he wasn't done with her, he gripped her by her coat and hurled Hermione onto her back, headfirst into a puddle where her previously luscious curls now resembled that of a soaked mop.

A faint stem of light gradually grew from somewhere above her meanwhile her aggressor drew a blade from his sleeve, pointing the tip of the dagger right below her collarbone, above her heart.

There was no stopping him, without a pause in action; he pressed the knife-edge into her skin. Blood was drawn as he leisurely dragged the knife down toward her heart. She shrieked in unimaginable pain, praying and begging to whoever could read her thoughts or hear her cries to save her.

She couldn't tell whether time slowed or picked up speed as an extraordinary light followed with a fierce heat consumed the small space they were in. All pressure that had previously filled her body at various points because of her attacker had disappeared and she now had a chance to take in a breath.

A new presence was sensed, causing her to sit up on her elbows in an attempt to see who was now there. A tall, cloaked figure stood a few steps away from her, their hand positioned out before them, palm toward the ground and glowing slightly. She followed the line that the hand was directed toward and saw a pile of simmering ashes at her feet. Ashes?

Her mind began to blank out as the blood loss finally took its toll, her remaining sight focusing on nothing as it began to blur. And now she was going to be left alone with a stranger whose intentions she has no idea of. She really should've let Ron walk her home.


.

Authors Note: Hey, hi, hello! For anyone that is reading this, I thank you so so so much! This fic has been an idea embedded in mind for a very long time and I'm finally getting out and down on paper and typing it out too; my obvious intention was to be able to share it with others and only hope that you'll all enjoy it. Please Read and Review!