The Falling Star of Hope
Chapter 1: Leaving Danger
Summary: Hermione is running. Running from her past. All hopes gone, she is saved and placed in a situation she never would have believed with surprising results. Hermione must learn to accept others she couldn't understand in the past before she herself can heal.
Hermione didn't look back. She kept running away from it all, away from that nightmare. She attempted to turn sharply into the bus depot only to crash into a wall and fall with a loud crunch.
Her arm was at an odd angle, probably broken. She tried to stand, but winced and dropped down harshly from the pain in her ankle.
"What am I going to do!" she wailed upon realizing that when they discovered her gone they would go looking for her. She couldn't move, much less leave so she would be right here for them to find her.
Did Merlin hate her?
She cursed, hopelessness sinking in.
"My, what a mouth you seem to have, Miss. Granger."
She looked around wildly, her once warm and sparkling cinnamon eyes finally resting on a cloaked man. She saw Dumbledore's long, silver beard and famous half-moon glasses mirroring blue, twinkling eyes.
"S-Sorry, Pro-Professor. I can't m-move, I t-think I s-sprained my a-ankle." She whimpered out through the pain flowing through her limbs.
"Let's get you back down to your house, we can fix it there," he said, a smile softening his features.
"N-no. I c-can't go b-back there. P-please p-professor, y-you must u-understand." Hermione whispered, still whimpering. She had tears flowing down her face.
The world around her started to spin, she felt light-headed.
He pulled her up and had her lean on him so that she wasn't putting weight on her ankle and asked her to grab his arm.
It all happened in a blur for her but she was suddenly alert when she woke up in green grass going on for what seemed like forever.
"I put a pain concealing charm on it for now. You'll be just fine with some time. Your arm is broken and your ankle is sprained." Dumbledore was quite frank. "I will respect your wishes, but you do need somewhere to stay."
"I can't stay with any relatives, and I have been too distant with my muggle friends to ask to stay with them…Professor, I don't want Harry or Ron to see me like this. They would only worry and…" Hermione rambled almost frantically.
Dumbledore gently cut in, "Then I know just the family for you. I happen to know a kind friend who would allow you to stay."
Hermione knew she shouldn't have been surprised, Dumbledore always knew what to do.
She followed him as he strode quickly down the path. A slight tingling sensation reminding her of how tender her ankle was without the spell. She stopped at the door, almost colliding with Dumbledore's back.
"Professor, may I inquire where we are?" she asked, puzzled thoroughly.
"You'll find out soon enough." Dumbledore finished, knocking on the black, solid oak door. She heard footprints on the other side and the door opened.
There stood an elegant, beautiful woman. She had long, black hair and deep blue eyes, which contrasted nicely with her golden skin. Her accent was heavy as she graciously invited them in.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of you and Miss-?" she politely inquired.
"This is Miss Hermione Granger, Ciara (pronounced Key-are-a). Hermione, this is Mrs. Zabini. May we talk in private?" Professor Dumbledore requested.
"Hermione, dear, make yourself at home. You don't mind waiting in the sitting room, do you?" Mrs. Zabini gestured towards the closest room off of the foyer. Professor Dumbledore and she disappeared into a room further down the hallway.
Hermione limped to the room, slightly leaning on the wall. The sitting room was pristine and clean. The white carpet was snow white and did not have a single spot on it; Hermione self-consciously slid her shoes off in front of the door before stepping in. The bright room was accented in brilliant blues and yellows. It was so clean it was practically sparkling and she was almost afraid to touch anything.
An entire wall was glass with thin vines of tracing to seem like windows. The opposite wall was covered from ceiling to floor in bookcases. Hermione immediately gaped and headed towards the shelves.
Ancient books were mixed with modern in a combination of the best of the best. She immediately saw several of her personal favorites. One giant, leather book was untitled and seemed quite old. It sparked Hermione's curiosity and she headed over to the oversized armchair with it.
When she opened it she realized the book had been magically expanded. The second thing noticed were the photos, obviously it was a photo album. She hesitated, knowing she was snooping into someone else's private memories. The pictures started out extremely old, maybe from the 1500's based on the strange clothing and hair styles. They were all wizards or witches and stared exquisitely back at their intruder.
Pictures of a villa on the coast filled the scrapbook with scrawling handwriting in another language covering every open space. She caught names, dates, and sometimes places. As time went on the pictures got more modern looking. It was like a personal walk through time. What seemed like recipes with measurements and pictures of dishes were randomly thrown in. Finally, she reached the part of the book with several pages on Mrs. Zabini from when she was just a baby to her teenage years, where she was pictured with a teenage boy.
Hermione grinned as she saw their wedding photo. There was a gorgeous grove of tress on either side of the couple framing the wedding area. It was autumn with leaves of all colors and bright blue skies. In the far background you could see the end of the cliff with the ocean and sky spreading out everlasting. The couple grinned and whispered to each other animatedly, ignoring her.
The guests all smiled and talked amongst themselves. One couple in the crowd was fighting and an older man whom Hermione took as the father of the bride from previous pictures stood proudly off to the side, watching his daughter finally leave the nest. The bride wore a simple gown that flowed out in waves with a single bright ribbon around her waist.
It was a picture perfect wedding. Hermione had dreamed of a similar wedding her entire life. It was as closest to happily-ever-after she had ever gotten to dreaming.
A newspaper read of their marriage was covering the next page.
Several pages later of the happy couple and their honeymoon, their first fight-ending in the both of them covered in pudding and other desserts- and many parties and balls, Mrs. Zabini appeared pregnant. Finally she was in the hospital, holding a small bundle, a precious look on her face as she gazed at her son for the first time. The father was absent, but Hermione dismissed that, concentrating on Mrs. Zabini. Blaise Zabini, huh? Sounded vaguely familiar.
As time went on, Hermione laughed at the situations the little boy got himself into. Finally she came to a picture of him heading off to Hogwarts, proudly standing in from of the train. He looked slightly familiar, but she couldn't say where she knew him. She couldn't help but smile at the excited grin on his face. She noticed the Snake on his green laced robes; her smile fell a little when she noticed he was a Slytherin. Well, if she did recognize him, she probably wouldn't want to. Best not to judge just because of his house, she did hate it when they judged Gryffindors. .
When he came back for break however, Hermione's face darkened. Blaise had his arm thrown over none other than Draco Malfoy. This Malfoy was grinning and laughing just as hard as his partner though. She quickly changed the page but was confronted with page after page of the two together doing everything. Obviously they were very close.
Hermione felt her heart sink. There was no way she would get a long with someone friends with that sleaze ball. She had hoped to maybe be friends with this cheerful boy. And if she were to be living with his there, then Malfoy would also probably be here often.
She flipped to the back cover, noticing a piece sticking out in the back. It was a family tree, written in tiny handwriting, colorful lines connecting generations. She was just leaning closer to read it when a hand touched her shoulder. She jumped, throwing the book to the floor and standing.
"What are you doing here, Miss?"
Hermione looked up to see an elder lady with a long, winding silver braid and a kind smile looking down at her. She breathed in deeply and sighed in relief-it didn't seem like she was in trouble at all for snooping. She tried to smile before looking back down at her feet.
"My…I…I don't have a home anymore. I got into some trouble and Professor Dumbledore said he could…help me. That he knew a place for me to stay. So I'm here." It was awkward avoiding the whole truth, but Hermione knew she wasn't ready to face the full brunt of her past situation just yet. It was enough that she was safe and away from there.
The lady looked surprised for a moment, but took her story in stride and smiled gently, a hint of sadness touching her eyes.
"Well dear, I believe you seem like you could use some help. I am Clarice Leveque and I work here as a maid and nanny. Let me see your arm, dear. I know just the spell for that." Gently, she examined Hermione's arm, pulling it straight and ignoring the gasp of pain from the young girl. Clarice muttered a spell and tapped her arm with her wand; Hermione watched as her arm straightened out and gritted her teeth against the searing pain the process gave." Now, it'll be a little sore for a while, and don't try to put any wait on it for a while, dear."
Hermione nodded gratefully, bowing her head. "My name is Hermione, ma'am. Thank you."
"None of that 'ma'am' nonsense. Everyone calls me Clarice and I won't tolerate that formal manner from a sweet girl such as you. Now, we'll fix that ankle right up and go get some food into you." She quickly healed Hermione's ankle, who stretched her leg in relief. "Off to the kitchens we go, dear."
"I really can't, I'm supposed to stay here! I don't want them to come back to me missing. I'm grateful, really, but I should just stay here." Hermione protested as Clarice led her from the room.
"Nonsense. I can practically hear how hungry you are. You are much too thin; we have to get some meat on you. We'll fix that right up." Clarice wouldn't take no for an answer, so Hermione was quickly led to the kitchen where she was placed at a small table to eat.
The two were having a pleasant conversation about the differences between schooling now and in Clarice's days when loud footsteps were heard in the hall way. Hermione turned to the door, expecting it to be Professor Dumbledore or perhaps Mrs. Zabini with her fate.
"Clarice, do you know where my new broom might-" A tall, dark-haired teenage boy stopped in mid-sentence upon seeing Hermione. He had the same skin and curly hair as his mother- he was Blaise Zabini. The best mate of Draco Malfoy-Slytherin extraordinaire. What on earth was she doing here? She could only trust that Dumbledore know what he was doing. "What is Granger sitting in my kitchen?"
"Blaise, dear, come join us for a slice of pie. Hermione here is keeping me company while Albus talks to your mother." She gestured to the empty chair across from Hermione, but Blaise shook his head, backing away.
"I don't want her in my house. I'm going to find my mother this instant." Before he could walk away completely, Clarice was by his side, guiding him to the chair she had offered before.
She looked down at him, nonplussed by his attitude. "You will do no such thing. Sit and eat your pie. When your mother is done, she will come and explain everything. And don't be so rude to a guest! This dear child is in need of some help and has done no wrong to you." He looked down, properly scolded for his harsh words.
"I don't have to like her being here." He muttered, turning his attention to the rich piece of pie in front of him. He stubbornly tried to ignore the two other occupants of the table, but couldn't help but listen, admiring the intelligent conversation the two made; never before had he seen Granger in such an environment that was conducive to her intelligence rather than contrasting. It was strange…it made it almost not annoying to see her spouting out her facts and opinions. He didn't have to like her being there and everything would be fine as long as she was gone as soon as possible. It wasn't that he had a personal vendetta against her; if anyone found out that he had Granger in his house for any extended period of time he would never live it down in the Slytherin house.
'She'll be gone soon.'
Professor Albus Dumbledore had seen a lot of things in his many years; he had made mistakes and triumphs both and had witnessed terrible things that would give any average joe nightmares for weeks. He was regretful for some of his mistakes and accepted others. His placement of Harry Potter in his Aunt's house started out with good, honest intentions to keep him safe from the hands of Voldemort; however, his treatment made the action regrettable. He believed he had to hold strong in his actions for the sake of the Wizarding World so he ignored the boy's pleas not to return in face of the blood bond. Albus Dumbledore may have done wrong in that case, but he refused to do so here when he could easily get her somewhere safe. As he followed the matron of the house to a private meeting room and they both sat down, he thought over what he would say- he knew he had to convince her to allow Hermione to stay.
"Ms. Granger is in a grave situation at home, Ciara. I'm afraid it isn't fit for her to live there anymore. I was hoping you could offer assistance for her living circumstances for the summer until she returns to school?" He gazed at her as she considered what he had proposed.
"Albus, how do you expect me to take in someone I have never met before? How can I take her into my home and expect it to be a safe bet? What could possibly have happened that would rip her so suddenly from her home with nowhere to go?" Her voice was steady and calm. She wasn't worried, merely finding out more information-a Slytherin at heart.
Dumbledore studied her for a moment. "I know you do not know the girl, but she is a star student and wouldn't be any trouble here. She won't even inform me of what happened; goodness knows it had to be horrifying to break her spirit. She is a strong one, a true Gryffindor. Ciara, someone was hurting her. She has no where else to go; she is estranged from her childhood friends due to her Hogwarts attendance and she isn't willing to push her problems onto her friends when they already have so much to worry over. She is kind-hearted and in need of assistance. I wouldn't ask if I didn't know this was the best place for her."
"And Blaise? Do they know each other? We all know how house rivalries go." Her eyebrow raised in an expression of doubt.
He chuckled and smiled with a twinkle in his eye. "They do not personally know each other, yet. I think they will find once they look past the house differences, they will find a strong friendship of sorts between them. They will be good for each other once they get over their surface perceptions."
She sighed, yet smiled wryly. "You knew before you came here that I would say yes. She may stay here." Dumbledore swept up and smiled grandly.
"Well then, we must get Ms. Granger to tell her the news!" And that was how Hermione ended up staying in the Zabini mansion.