Chapter 1: The Funeral
AN: This chapter is largely a lot of background, to 'set the scene' in this AU (alternative universe). Please let me know if you have any questions that should be cleared up, though some things (like Hermione's parents' deaths) may be explained later as a subplot. I'm trying to stick to the books as much as possible, but some things will be tweaked here and there. This is definitely not set in modern day or the late 1900s, think more fairy-tale and Cinderella time-frame. Also, DISCLAIMER: If I owned Harry Potter, then Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger would have had a dramatic romance and Ronald Weasley would be more of a dunderhead.
Hermione Granger watched the last shovelful of dirt thrown on top of her parents, effectively cutting them off from the rest of the world. Placing her magically black roses on the freshly-turned dirt, she wiped her tears away from her face, shuddering with silent sobs. She barely paid attention to the solemn speeches given by the Weasley family, or the baker's son, or Jean's favorite customers. Her eyes were focused on the tombstone, a silent rock that bore their names and years. They were just another dead couple, just another love story that had ended together. It was not a powerful love story, either. Their deaths would never be the story of Lily and James Potter. Their love would never be remembered like Romeo and Juliet. No, they were just the plain and simple Grangers, and that was it. That was all.
"Why?" she whispered to the silent flowers, the petals gently fluttering in the breeze. She looked up to the grey sky overhead, flat and dismal. The proceedings of the funeral blew away in a blur. Hours of silent tears and solemn faces flowed by. She barely noticed Harry's reassuring squeeze, or Ron awkwardly patting her shoulder. When she was alone again, she let the tears flow freely. "Stay with me," she whispered again, though this time directing her words at the tombstone. The wind seemed to caress her cheek, throwing back her brown frizzy locks away from her tear-stained face.
"Always…" the wind whispered back to her, and she a contented sigh escaped from her pink, chapped lips.
Not many people had come to the funeral, for the Grangers were a simple and ordinary family. Jean Granger kept open a bookshop, while Robert ran a small apothecary. While many disagreed with Jean's odd independence, no one outright complained, as she did a decent job of helping her frequent customers and had an impeccable sense of organization. The largest libraries in England could barely rival her impressive and efficient cataloging system. Hermione obviously inherited Jean's love of books, as well as the independence that society found a bit disturbing for women at that time.
The local community found the Grangers to be a slightly eccentric family, but a good one nevertheless. However, the shock of their deaths left a few muggles grasping for an explanation, which, of course, they would never find. Even their wizarding friends were unsure of the circumstances surrounding their deaths, but most chalked it up to Lord Voldemort's dark reign.
Hermione Granger was a little strange. At eleven years old, the young doe-eyed child was extremely accident-prone. The circumstances and coincidences became more and more peculiar, and soon everyone was wary of being in her presence. Obviously sensitive to the feelings of rejection, Hermione found her solace, unsurprisingly, in books.
But her idiosyncrasies never faded away, and soon a particularly bizarre owl flew into the Granger household, carrying a letter from a certain Albus Dumbledore. The letter suddenly brought light to all of Hermione's perplexing accidents, and helped the Grangers realize there was a whole community where Hermione was finally normal. There was even a school for witches and wizards with Hermione's capabilities! Although, as a female, she would not be housed as a full-time student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hermione felt that with a magical education, she could accomplish anything. She attended classes during the day, while coming home at night. Excited to finally have a place to belong, she jumped at the chance, flying into the school with unbridled enthusiasm. Alas, she, once again, was a stranger. Being a muggle-born, she was repeatedly teased and bullied by a certain Slytherin prince, Draco Malfoy. Hermione found her home to be her safe haven from the hell of her school.
Now, her home was gone as well.
Albus Dumbledore kindly found a home for her, with other girls from her school. Madame Bellatrix Lestrange was a renowned home for orphaned girls, and churned out the most eligible maidens throughout all of England. Hermione would be housed with other girls from her year: Lavender Brown, Parvarti Patil, and Padma Patil. Hermione had never had much contact with these girls, and hoped that they would find common ground, especially since they were at such a prestigious boarding home.
Hermione had only a few friends at Hogwarts, and her main best friends were male: Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Harry Potter had been orphaned as an infant, and was raised by a rather dreadful muggle family, the Dursleys. However, at the age of thirteen, as a young lord, he inherited a rather large sum from his deceased parents and was left alone in his old manor.
Ronald Weasley was a different story. His family was ordinary, much like the Grangers, but in the Wizarding world. Ron's brothers, George and Fred, owned a successful joke shop, much to the displeasure of many Hogwarts professors. Molly Weasley owned a dress shop, and Arthur held a respectable position in the Lord Kingsley Shacklebolt's court. Bill and Charlie were off having adventures in other places: Bill in France and Charlie in Romania. Ginny Weasley had caught Harry Potter's eye, much to many other girls' dismay.
Harry and Ron were famous, after recently defeating Lord Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts. Although Hermione was the major brain behind Lord Voldemort's defeat, she quietly slipped into the background, mourning her parents silently.
"Hermione, my dear, are you well?" asked Molly Weasley, enveloping Hermione in a bear-hug. Molly loved her like a daughter, and would have taken Hermione in had Dumbledore found no other option.
Hermione shrugged, pulling out of the embrace. "As well as I can be, Mrs. Weasley."
"Well," Molly repeated, and grasped Hermione by her shoulders, "you really mustn't feel too sad. Your parents wouldn't want you to be so. Think of your future as an opportunity! If I could afford Madame Lestrange for Ginny – well! We would never worry about any demands on her dowry!"
Hermione smiled sadly, "Harry is a good man, and you know he loves Ginny so. I don't think you'll have a heart-attack over her suitor's demands."
Molly grinned. "Now that was pure luck. I can barely imagine the suitors you'll get! If only Ronald would realize what a gem is in front of his face!"
Hermione managed a small chuckle. Molly embraced her once more.
"Do feel better, my dear. And if you ever have any trouble, don't hesitate to contact me. Especially if you need a particularly dashing dress!" Molly waved her goodbye.
"I will!" Hermione promised, and turned to survey her surroundings one last time.
As she looked around the cemetery, Hermione counted a scant forty, who were slowly dispersing and leaving. Compared to the hundreds of diplomats, Lords, and Dukes that had attended Rodolphus Lestrange's funeral a few months prior, Hermione's parents were mere paupers; they had never been in the public eye. Hermione glanced past her fellow villagers, and focused on the tall, dark woman with unruly black locks. The woman was eying Hermione like a piece of fresh meat, making Hermione shift uncomfortably. This was Hermione's future, this woman, for Madame Lestrange would either make her a desirable maiden, or a disgusting wench. The woman beckoned Hermione to come over, and Hermione forced herself to walk, chin up and back straight.
"Good day, Madame Lestrange," Hermione curtsied politely. Bellatrix nodded stiffly, looking Hermione up and down, and circled her. Hermione fought the urge to fidget. Bellatrix stopped in front of Hermione, causing Hermione's heart to thump loudly against her rib cage. Hermione tried to read the cold, black eyes, but only saw…dissatisfaction? Distress? Confusion?
And then, Madame Bellatrix Lestrange smiled, chilling Hermione to the bone. Her eyes glittered with malice.
"Welcome to my school, Mudblood" she hissed.
Hermione shuddered and struggled to keep her composure, even though all she wanted to do was run as fast as she could the opposite direction of Madame Lestrange. With Hogwarts closed, Hermione had no other place to go, and was at the mercy of Bellatrix Lestrange.