Prologue: Two Pieces
The first time that Hermione disappeared was when she was six.
When it happened, she had been curled up in her mother's closet, surrounded by expensive and clean-cut business suits that dangled from the padded wooden hangers,
As an adult, the strongest memory Hermione remembered from the event was that it had been storming heavily, and streaks of lightning had been visible though the small octagon-shaped window in the closet.
"Oh no, oh no, oh no," her small voice had been whispering over and over again.
Hermione knew she was in trouble; she had lost control of her abilities once again. She had run home as soon as it happened, fearful of everyone's reactions. No one tried to stop her.
She knew her parents would be angry, and she wasn't old enough to understand that her parents' anger would only be a result of the worry and protectiveness they felt for their only daughter.
Amelia and Stephan Granger knew their daughter was a witch. It is near impossible for two loving parents to raise a witch as powerful as Hermione without figuring out at a very young age that their child was, indeed, a witch.
Odd explosions at home whenever she had been upset as a baby, objects moving, other children inexplicably suffering some sort of minor malady whenever they teased the bushy-haired Hermione. Yes, the Grangers knew their daughter was a witch.
The revelation hadn't been much of a shock, apart for the obvious shocking-ness of the whole thing. They were Christians, though certainly took no part in anything resembling fanatic. They enjoyed their Christmas presents and Easter feasts but that was the extent of their devotion. Those various neighbors who spoke to them of the Devil and their daughter in the same sentence could go bugger themselves for all the Grangers cared.
Hermione was a kind, loving, intelligent and healthy child and that was more than enough to satisfy any misgivings they might have originally had about their daughter's unexpected skills; they did not fear Hermione in the least. What the Grangers did fear, however, was the wrath of others that had a more prejudice and cowardly disposition.
Those types of people, they knew, might try to hurt their child.
So, ever since Hermione's first public display of power, they had instructed her to stay silent about her abilities and try to never display them to anyone outside of her immediate family.
Being an obedient child, Hermione tried as hard as she could to keep her powers hidden. However, as obedient as Hermione strove to be, she was equally emotional and stubborn and she sometimes found it hard to control abilities that she simply didn't know how to control.
That day, when her classmates had made fun of her plentiful hair and books, she had lost her temper, resulting in one of the not-so-rare and often talked about "incidents" at Hermione's school.
Shy little Dougie McCleanan had taken the brunt of the wave of erasers and chalk that had flown across the room.
She had run into her house using the small garage door opener that her parents had given her in case of an emergency and had headed right into her mother's closet. Crouching in the far left corner of the room, the octagon window right above her head, she had wished and wished for anything, something, to take her away and put her with people who were just like her.
And, in that moment, with that wish, Hermione had disappeared with a pop.
"Stay low," Draco snapped.
Hermione wiped the sweat from her eyes. "I'm staying as bloody low as I bloody well can."
Draco's eyebrows rose slightly, even while he continued to survey the cavern they were in. A conveniently placed rock wall hid them from view, but hardly took them out of danger. The Death Eaters had mostly cleared out of the immediate area, but their voices could still be heard.
"You sound tense. How much longer?"
Hermione shook her head, clearly frustrated, "I'm going as fast as I can, I assure you. These hieroglyphs are like nothing I've ever seen before."
Draco tightened his hold on his wand, "You're supposed to be an expert Granger."
"They're just incredibly obscure. Our intelligence wasn't wrong, the Egyptian…" Hermione's voice trailed off.
"Granger?"
"Oh my god."
"What Granger?"
"I think they might be—"
An explosion echoed through the cavern, shaking the ground and cutting Hermione off.
"Shit," Hermione rolled her supplies into her messenger bag. "We can't leave this."
Draco knew better than to argue with her; after a year of working together he knew to trust her when she said something was important.
"Fine, lets put some concealment and weightless charms on it and head out. I don't think they're just blowing up stuff for fun."
Hermione nodded her head and hissed the charms quickly while Draco began to move away from the rock wall. He looked back to her and gave the signal to follow.
Together, they sprinted down the narrow pathways, the relic Hermione had been working on levitating between them.
By the time the Death Eaters realized that their intruders had escaped with the relic, Hermione and Draco had escaped into the desert air.
Author's Note: This my first time out writing, so I'd really appreciate ANY reviews. As for the dates, I relied on the HP Lexicon…the DVDs say Herms was born in 1980, but the Lexicon explains that the September of 1979 is more likely. Hope you enjoyed! Thanks!