Hi soo. I'm reaaallly new to fanfiction, I don't even know how the beta people work and all that shizznit :D soo it would be awesome if you gave me a little advice, PLEASE, and explain all this stuff. Anyways. Have fun with my story, it's the first fanfiction I've ever done, but please tell me what I can do to improve. Sorry if there are any grammatical errors - those bother me a ton and I try my best to avoid them. This chapter may be a little tedious, but I have to start somewhere, right? :P please continue though, it would mean a lot :3
Disclaimer: JK ROWLING owns Harry Potter. I am very jealous.
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Hermione Granger looked out the window of her small house overlooking the cerulean sea, smiling in content. She was living a lovely life. It had been five years since Harry defeated the Dark Lord, and she was fresh in her twenties. She had aided in the defeat, of course, and so did Ron, but Harry deserved most, if not all, of the credit. It was his strength and courage and belief that he could do it that saved them all. It had been a tough, struggling battle, and Hermione didn't want to think about how or what the world would be like if he hadn't defeated Voldemort, if somehow Voldemort had destroyed Harry... she pushed the thought out of her head, shaking it slightly. The wizarding world had been saved, and it would do her no good thinking about what could have happened. Harry carried on to be a professional Auror, catching the remaining death eaters who had gone into hiding after the fateful day when Harry prevailed. He was a busy chap - it was probably to take his mind off being so young and seeing too much. Thank god Ginny was always by his side to keep him company – they were hardly ever seen without each other.
Hermione's smile faltered slightly. As much as she loved living the single life, sometimes she wondered what it would have been like if Ron and her hadn't split up - if they hadn't agreed that their lives were just too different for them to keep up a relationship. After the war, Hermione was immediately asked by the Ministry to work in the Department of Magical Substances, a new department that had been solely created for people like Hermione and Professor Snape, who thrived on creating new potions and concoctions that would help the wizarding world.
Ron tried to be an Auror like Harry, but had been immediately discouraged from the job - he was too bulky, too clumsy, and his spell work and wizardry was just not up to par. Unfortunately, his tester, Kingsley, had compared him frequently to Harry, and after his failure, Harry and him weren't as close anymore - Ron believing that Harry had once again, stolen the limelight while he was left jobless. This was still while Ron and Hermione were dating, and the two months in which Ron looked for a job put their relationship on the rocks. Hermione stuck by him the entire time, though. When Ron finally got back on his feet he decided to be a quidditch star, and he trained for months until he was finally accepted into Puddlemere United - not his first choice but a good team nonetheless. He broke up with Hermione shortly after, telling her that he just didn't have the time and he didn't want the commitment.
Hermione had been slightly shocked; seeing as she had stuck by him the entire time he had been jobless - but agreed anyways, not wanting to make a fuss. The spark had snuck away from their relationship and left them confused and not exactly happy with the way things were going. That was the end of Hermione and Ron. They kept in contact, but it was tense and forced. It seemed the Trio was splitting up – they were all growing up and leading different lives that didn't interact with each other that much. Harry and Hermione still saw each other at the ministry occasionally, but Ron was gone most of the year. All three were still featured in the news every now and then - Hermione for her brilliance, Harry for a new capture of an old death eater, and Ron for his keeping abilities.
It had been a couple years since Ron and her had split up, and she still missed the feeling of a man holding her close while she slept. She kept up a few relationships, however none lasted more than four months. After the last rocky breakup with her muggle boyfriend Dan, Hermione decided not to stir up any more romantic feelings and devoured her work, shutting out the public world for a few months to work on her latest potion. Oddly enough, Snape and her had gotten rather close as they constantly worked on potions together - Snape was still his oily, greasy, hook nosed self, but it wasn't as terrible as before and he gave Hermione the most respect he could muster from his dried out heart, thanks to her brilliance at potions. Together, they had created and patented more than twelve new potions.
Working at the ministry had its setbacks, but the pay was good and they were offering Hermione and Snape both a year off. After all, they deserved it, having just completed their toughest potion yet, a little monstrosity called the Interrogation Concoction which allowed a trained Ministry representative to enter the mind of a criminal for a specific amount of time, depending on how much of the potion they drank. It allowed them to go through every single memory without a single complaint from the criminal, including being able to see what spells the criminal had used, where, when, and what spells had been used upon him. It was a perfect way to find out whether one had been under the influence of the Imperious Curse. It also allowed the one entering the other's mind to see WHO had cast the spell upon him, which would help find many wizards who had used illegal curses or whatnot. It was dangerous and still needed to be tested out, but everyone was extremely impressed, and the ministry decided that it was time for Hermione to take a break.
So here she was, in a little cottage in a far away mountain range, overlooking the sea with a beautiful view. The sunset was beautiful and the sunrise was even more breathtaking, and it was this kind of peaceful serenity that put Hermione's mind at ease and allowed her to forget the loss of loved ones and the terrible ordeal her, Ron, and Harry had been put through in their sixth and seventh year.
It was January fourteenth, the start of the second week she had arrived, ready to start her new life. There was a little muggle village community just two miles down from her house that was tiny, but it had just the right feel to it and everyone was just so friendly that Hermione loved it at once. News spread like wildfire about the new girl who was moving in - not many people moved to this part of Europe, so far away from civilization. The village was quaint, with cobblestone paths and little coffee shops on every corner. It was perfect that one shop, called the Bootsleg, was run by a little squib called Maylline and had all the magic ingredients that Hermione would ever need if she wanted to make a potion (which she did not). Maylline had immediately recognized the famous Hermione, but she promised she wouldn't tell a soul about her whereabouts. Hermione was simply here to relax for a year, make friends, and learn how to fish and sail and have the happiest time of her life. Maylline was a subscriber to the Daily Prophet and sent a copy up to Hermione of the day's news every morning after she was done reading it.
Hermione looked at the Daily Prophet that her owl, Persephone, had just brought up to her from the Bootsleg. She felt terrible as she looked on the front page of the newspaper, where a bold caption read: MISSING OR ON VACATION?
What a terrible name for a title, Hermione thought to herself. It had been written by a Thomas Welson, a name that didn't ring a bell, so she skimmed over the article quickly.
Hermione Granger, 21 year old Ministry worker, has been reported missing by her close friend Harry Potter, who said he haven't seen her recently and she hadn't been returning his calls. The Ministry was quick to jump too the young woman's defense, claiming that the young witch was simply on her year long sabbatical. "Where she went is none of the Ministry's concern," Peter Svhilck snapped when being asked. "Sabbaticals are for professors who wish to leave they're work for a little bit and enjoy some peace and quiet. Wherever Hermione is, I'm sure that she doesn't want to be disturbed."
Hermione's mouth dropped slightly at the horrendous way Thomas Welson wrote and his numerous grammatical errors - the prophet was hiring anyone they could find these days. Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry's obvious discomfort at her not replying his calls, but deep inside she felt a surge of pleasure that although Harry and was very busy, he had enough time to worry about his friend. She'd give him a call later on, telling him what happened and where she was, even though she really didn't want to. She enjoyed having people worry over her - it let her know that people still cared. But realizing how selfish her thoughts were, she blushed and began to write a letter to Harry, explaining where she was and why she was there.
Soon, a novel length letter rolled out in front of her and her fingertips were dotted with blue ink and she had a splotch of it on her nose and some splattered over her pretty white blouse. She had lost herself explaining how beautiful the mountains were and how the birds sang. Hermione smiled lightly. It would probably stop Harry from trying to come in contact with her for a couple weeks, knowing how happy she was here. Plus, Harry was spending as much time as he could juggling Ginny and his job. They were the cutest couple, like Oliver Wood and Katie Bell. Hermione finished sealing the letter shut and handed it over to Persephone, who took off quickly. Hermione didn't bother to send Ron a letter - if she told Harry, he'd tell Ron quickly. They weren't best friends anymore since the Auror incident, but they were still mates.
Hermione opened the Prophet to the next page and skimmed over it. It had little interesting news, nothing big going on since the defeat of Voldemort. She was just about to close it when a knock shook her door. Curious as to who would visit her, she quickly set the newspaper down on her desk and swiftly ran to the door, peeping out of the peephole. It was Maylline, her blonde hair waving around her face as the wind gently blew.
"Maylline!" Hermione exclaimed, opening the door and smoothing down her ink ridden shirt, causing the ink from her fingertips to stain it even more.
Maylline let out a little laugh, letting herself in. "If I were a witch I'd have those ink splotches cleaned up in a jiffy," she said almost sadly.
Hermione blushed and took her wand out of her back pocket, muttering a quick cleaning spell that made her face, blouse, and hands clean. "What are you doing here, May? I thought you had to run your shop? It's only 3:30,"
May waved her hand dismissively, walking over to the comfy blue striped couch that Hermione had conjured up when she was cleaning through the house. "No worries, I had Clayton look after it for a while."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Clayton... your cat?"
May nodded. "He's very responsible, that cat. Anyways, have you seen the papers? The first page had the cutest picture of you on it! And did you check out page six? All about those dirty pirates that have been killing people everywhere they go. Although they're not technically bad, are they, since the people they kill all turn out to be ex-Death Eaters, eh? It's funny how many of those dirty scumbags live close to water these days - perfect targets for those nasty Pirates eh?"
Hermione chuckled lightly. May had a very large mouth, and she wouldn't stop talking whenever she was around Hermione. It was probably because of the lack of wizards or witches who passed by this area, meaning May had no one to talk about the Wizarding World's events with besides her cat, Clayton. May was a loveable thirty something year old woman with a bright, smiling face, a slight accent, and blonde hair that was usually tied in a loose bun. Hermione waved her wand and a pot of tea appeared on the stove and a plate of biscuits appeared on the coffee table in front of May and Hermione. She summoned the newspaper and flipped to page six.
"Pirates, huh?" Hermione muttered.
Since Voldemort's demise, the Aurors weren't the only ones who were out looking for ex death eaters. A group who called themselves pirates were also after death eaters - however, they wouldn't just capture death eaters and send them to Azkaban, like the Aurors would. They murdered them in cold blood, sending a sign in the air that was far too similar to the Dark Mark for people to be comfortable - a skull and bones hovering above houses. After that, they looted the houses and took off with the gold. They were becoming widely known, but the Ministry had yet to take action. Along most costal villages, towns or even bustling cities, if you mentioned Pirates, the usual eye patched, peg legged bearded man didn't come into mind. The name struck terror into the hearts of many, as although the pirates mainly targeted ex death eaters, they also plundered many houses and towns along the coast for fun, hurting people who got in their way. They used magic, so they were obviously wizards, and they DID capture hostages – however only a few. They had released one, a young girl called Mary Evans, a few months prior to the article Hermione was currently reading, and she had been interrogated by the Ministry. Hermione had been there because they were using one of her potions on her. Hermione remembered her words perfectly clear.
They were lovely, Mary Evans had said emotionlessly, after the potion had dripped into her mouth. It was a watered down version of Veritaserum, making the taker display her true feelings about, in Mary's case, the Pirates she had been captured by. They treated me like royalty and they were all so handsome and fit and I wanted to stay with them forever. I grew attached to one young man, and when I told him I loved him they threw me overboard because none of them wanted to get attached to any woman ever. They didn't tell me any of their plans but they were hospitable and they did not hurt me once. They wanted me because of my skill with potions, they asked me to help heal some of their wounded men. At first they threatened me if I wouldn't, but I wanted to. I wanted to do anything to impress him.
They asked who "him" was - who did Mary Evans want to desperately impress?
And she had replied with these words, the words that rattled around Hermione's brain and made her feel weak.
A man about my age, tall, with these beautiful, piercing grayish blue eyes that could see right into my soul, and white blond hair that was tied in a braid. They wouldn't tell me his name and he was so young, I was surprised that he was captain. He had the face of an angel, carved and marble and simply stunning.
The first person that sprang to Hermione's mind was Draco Malfoy. He fit the description quite perfectly, with the eyes and the hair, however, "nice" didn't fall into his category. He was cold and evil and terrible and would kill with cold blood. Yet… not only was the physical description correct, but Draco Malfoy had been disowned by his stepmother, who married Lucius after Narcissa died, and had disowned Draco after Lucius died, leaving all the money and the Malfoy name to her - making it possible that Draco had abandoned everything and joined a band of pirates. Unlikely, but it was just a thought... It had been shocking and sudden and the wizarding world felt a pang of sympathy towards Draco Malfoy as he had been through so much being a double agent for the Order of the Phoenix, but there was nothing they could do. Draco disappeared shortly after that and had not been found or seen since. He was still talked about frequently in the wizarding world - he was a major topic of gossip because he was an attractive young bachelor, but more intellectual wizards and witches were searching through his past constantly to find some way to relieve him from his disownment.
Hermione remembered when he had been disowned; it was all over the WWN, the wizarding wireless network, and she had watched the entire three hours of it. She remembered his proud and haughty look as his stepmother legally disowned him at court and she recalled his face as he walked through the roaring crowd (mostly made up of women, his fan crowd) - the best poker face she had ever seen, not revealing anything. Although he had just been disowned, he still radiated mystery and power, definitely more than his stepmother, who looked ugly and disgusting when she was angry (she was half veela, and they got ugly when they were angry).
"What do you think of them, May?" Hermione asked as she skimmed over the article which talked about some ex death eater called Carter Porst who's family had just been found dead with the Pirate sign hovering above their house.
"Of the Pirates?" May thought for a moment before answering. "Eh, I suppose they're alright, you know? Helping rid the wizarding world of all those nasty buggers who were on Voldie's side, but they could do it a little more nicely, like that bloke Harry Potter and his team do you know? Bring them to the interrogation room before cutting the heads off! But you remember that girl, that Mary Ellens?"
Hermione swallowed lightly. "Mary Evans, the one who got away from them?" She tried to keep her voice casual.
May nodded. "I'm know a friend of hers and she told me that Mary absolutely adored the Pirates and she just moved to a little cottage like this one overlooking the ocean and put signs up saying Take me away, Pirates! or something crazy like that."
Hermione laughed. "I really doubt that," she shook her head, turning the page of the newspaper, where a large image of the pirate's ship sailing over water came into view with a whole article about how they were still trying to find who was the captain and how to contact them.
She trailed her hand along the moving picture, musing how the black and white pictures didn't do the gorgeous ocean justice. She turned the page, unaware that if the picture had actually been in colour, the first thing that would've caught her eye would've been a small figure climbing the sail, his white blonde hair reflecting the sun and if he turned, she'd see piercing gray eyes and a familiar smirk.
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What do you think?
xxLC