Hey everyone,if ur readingthis your the best!haha,well this is my first fanfic,i know this is quite a long first chapter but i need it to make it all ready for the rest of the story.It gets more exciting later. All characters so farbelong to J.K Rowling and im just borrowing her spectacular world for my humble story :)
A dazzling shaft of early-morning sunlight shone through the gap between the lilac curtains in Hermione's room. Mumbling groggily about being late for class she rolled in her bed and slowly opened her eyes. Through a sleepy haze she glanced at the harsh, red digits on her alarm clock and sat up in shock – it was nearly the afternoon! How could she have slept for so long?
Leaning back against her headboard she looked around her childhood room, her old study desk groaned under the weight of her hefty magic schoolbooks, which couldn't fit on her shelves that were already full of her muggle study material. The lilac and pink of her old room seemed almost alien to her, after being at Hogwarts.
She missed the comforting warmth of the red and gold décor from her beloved Gryffindor dormitory. She hadn't had any chance to redecorate her room, and she supposed there wasn't really much point; she was at Hogwarts for the majority of her time. But there were some home comforts, odd how she felt as though her family home was less like home every time she came back, her school robes hung, perfectly pressed, on her wardrobe door – ready for packing into her school trunk. Crookshanks was curled up at the foot of her bed, purring contentedly like a diesel engine. Her wand was on her bedside table and her potions set lay open on the floor, from where she had left it after making a list of re-fills she needed to get from Diagon alley, along with various bits of used parchment. This room was a bizarre amalgamation of her muggle and magical lives.
Sighing she swung her legs out of bed, put on the purple fluffy slippers her friend had bought her, for a birthday that seemed like a hundred years ago, and shuffled out of her room to the bathroom. When she had properly woken herself up by a quick splash of cold water on her face she made her way downstairs, picking up the muggle post on the way to the kitchen, and made herself some breakfast.
Just as she sat down on the sofa with her heavily buttered pile of toast, she jumped back up again as she heard a loud tapping coming from behind the curtains. She put her toast down on the coffee table and slowly moved towards the covered French windows and peeked out from behind the curtains – trying desperately not to move them. She let out the breath she had been holding explosively, misting up the glass; it was only an owl, most probably from Ron, giving the details of her going over to visit. She grinned at the prospect of seeing he and Harry's faces when they saw her after the summer and quickly unlocked the French doors and threw them open. The golden owl fluttered in and landed delicately on the coffee table, Hermione left the French doors open, a little surprised that the early morning chill hadn't yet burnt off, and went to the owl taking the letter off of the proffered leg. When she saw the Hogwarts seal on the roll of parchment she frowned…it was from Dumbledore.
Hermione,
I know this is rather out of the blue, as the new year at Hogwarts isn't for another four weeks, and I can assure you that Molly and Arthur will be writing soon to invite you over. But today you must stay at home! When your parents come home from work make sure they stay home as well. You will be hearing from me shortly.
Yours sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore.
Hermione sat down, still looking at the letter with a baffled look on her face. What was that all about? She shrugged to herself and went forward to pick up another bit of toast when she realised that the post owl was still standing on the table, looking at her patiently, waiting to be instructed. She leaned forward and stroked it down its back, it hooted dolefully and looked down at her pile of toast with an eager look in its eyes. Grinning she picked a piece up and put it in its mouth, and with a leap the owl took flight and whooshed out of the French doors, up into the clear noon sky.
Well, if Dumbledore said she had to stay at home Hermione wasn't going to go against his wishes, it was going to be a long boring day. Quietly she remarked to herself,
"Oh well, if I'm going to be in all day I might as well start off with a ciggy."
With that she ran up the stairs, popped on her dressing gown and grabbed her packet of cigarettes and lighter, then went back downstairs and out into the garden. After perching herself neatly on the swing her dad had put on a tree for her when she was little, Hermione lit up her cigarette and took a deep drag, pulling her dressing gown tightly around her to keep the damp chill out and lifting her bare feet up so they didn't get wet and cold from the dew still left on the grass. Her parents didn't know she smoked, neither did Harry or Ron, but she had resolved herself to tell them when she got to The Burrow.
Her parents though, they would go absolutely mad if they found out, and read really deeply into it, they'd probably think that they hadn't given her enough attention or something like that. It really wasn't anything serious like that; she had been out with her muggle friends, they had all started smoking while she'd been away at 'boarding school', and they offered her a cigarette, she had accepted out of pure boredom, she wondered what it was like. As well as, Hermione sort of wished she could be popular - although she wouldn't even admit it to herself, and everyone she had met who smoked was cool and popular. But she didn't want to think of herself as that shallow…she was just bored.
She finished her fag, tiptoed through the wet grass and threw the butt over the back fence, into the little alleyway that joined all the backs of the gardens on her side of the street.
'There must been a pile of cigarette ends over there by now' she mused to herself as she pranced back across the garden and back inside, she flopped down onto the sofa and once more returned her attention to her toast. It had all gone cold, the melted butter had hardened again but she ate it all anyway, while flicking through the TV channels. She had no interest at all in television, she hadn't even before she found out she was a witch, and now she felt even less enthused by it.
Sighing heavily Hermione moved through to the kitchen and put the kettle on; she sat down at the dining table and tapped her fingernails on the pinewood while she waited for it to boil. A nice cup of tea would do the job; she could go up to her room and read 'Hogwarts a History' for a bit then go and have a nice hot bath. That would take her to about half past two…her parents would get home at four 'o'clock and, well, she didn't know when she would 'hear' from Dumbledore.
It was all rather odd, she could see no reason that Dumbledore would need to talk to her or her parents this early in the summer holidays, unless it was something to do with Voldemort, but he couldn't be there could he! No, it was definitely something else, she reasoned, absently she made her cup of tea and went back upstairs.
She stashed her packet of cigarettes in her underwear drawer, it was an unspoken agreement that her parents wouldn't go into that particular part of her room, and so she was safe from discovery. She took the heavy 'Hogwarts a History' book off of her desk and lay down on her bed to read, with her steaming mug of tea on her bedside table – sweetened with some alternative sugar that her parents had found, they were always avoiding sugar, as dentists Hermione was sure they had signed some contract to ban them from ever using it.
A couple of hours later, she dragged herself out of the deep, bubbly bath she had run for herself, there was nothing quite as relaxing as a hot bath and she had been thinking over the conundrum of a letter Dumbledore had sent her that morning, well – afternoon.
Hermione spent the next couple of hours beautifying herself, her new regime would probably make her unrecognisable to Harry and Ron, her parents had let her get her hair chemically straightened and given her a fully paid for shopping spree, as reward for doing so well at school. So now she had sleek, shiny, honey brown hair and a wardrobe full of new clothes, with shoes to match, but they would all fit in with the wizarding side of her life as well – they were all very individual and slightly…gothic, to say the least.
Just as she was about to put on some mascara she jumped a little at the sound of someone's key in the door downstairs, her parents must be home, they both worked at the same dentists surgery so generally came home at the same time. She padded downstairs and poked her head round the kitchen door, both of her parents were bustling around the room, making tea and talking about their hectic days at work.
"Hey Mum, Dad, how are you? Did you both have good days at work?"
Hermione softly interrupted their banter.
"Hello darling! You're looking lovely, as usual!"
"Did you have a good day as well? Stay in bed late?"
Her parents talked like this every time they came home from work, it never really differed, she couldn't really say 'Oh, well I had a fag then went upstairs to read and think about how I miss magic when I'm at home.' So she just replied with a smile and,
"Oh yes, I woke up at about quarter to twelve! I've just been chilling out all day, had a nice bath. Professor Dumbledore sent a letter; he said could we all stay at home; I have the feeling he needs to tell us something important. I'm not sure what."
Her parents both turned to look at her at the sound of Dumbledore's name, they knew full well about the war with Voldemort going on in the wizarding world and the view he took on muggles. The worry in their eyes betrayed the fact they thought this 'news' from Dumbledore would be something to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Hermione saw this and quickly spoke up before they got carried away with their thoughts.
"No, no, I'm sure it's nothing really. I'll bet its something to do with school, maybe about the triwizard competition from last year, I'm sure it'll be fine."
Both her Mum and her Dad visibly relaxed at this reassurance from their daughter, she was the witch in the family after all, and she was really a very bright girl. But Hermione herself got caught up in her parent's train of thought and after she had talked to them she drifted into the living room, fell down onto the sofa and mulled over her thoughts. What if it was Voldemort? What had he done? Was it something to do with muggles? Or muggle born witches and wizards, like her!
A loud bang, like a car backfiring, startled her out of her thoughts. From her magical side of life she recognised that noise as someone apparating, but no one would apparate into such a muggle populated area, unless it was into a home. But the loud crack had echoed like it was outside, Hermione was sure that no other witches or wizards lived in her neighbourhood, Dumbledore would have told her.
Then she jumped again, as – for the second time that day – there was a knocking on the glass of the French doors. She got up, very cautiously padding towards the French doors, horribly aware of her thoughts of Voldemort and his supporters, and opened the curtains. She found herself blinking, open-mouthed at Dumbledore standing in his magnificent blue and gold robes and smiling merrily through the glass at her. Coming to her senses Hermione grinned back and pulled open the doors, almost wanting to throw her arms around him in a big embrace, he had become like a friendly grandfather to Ron, Harry and herself in their time at Hogwarts.
"Hello Hermione my dear, I'm glad you're here – I wondered, as you didn't send back a note with the owl."
Hermione gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth, she had completely forgotten!
"Oh, oh I'm terribly sorry Professor! I just, oh I just didn't think to-"
She was interrupted by her parents coming into the room, looking anxious and excited at the same time and looking at Dumbledore's rich robes with wide eyes. Hermione looked up just at the moment that Dumbledore raised his wand and pointed it at her parents and uttered in his soft, gentle voice,
"Stupefy!"
Hermione stood in shock as her parents fell backwards onto the sofa, completely stunned. She whirled around on Dumbledore, ready to scream a spell at him but she realised that her wand was still upstairs on her bedside table!
"Miss Granger I am quite aware how bad this looks and im sorry, it had to be done. There are some things you need to know…after I have told you I will most certainly allow you to go and find your wand and do what you will with it."
Hermione sat down on the edge of the coffee table and looked up silently, waiting for Dumbledore to spill the beans on whatever he stunned her parents for, after that she was going to run upstairs and get her wand, come back down and then curse him into oblivion. Although, when she thought about it, she probably wouldn't even get one step away from him before he stunned her…or worse, the way things were going she wouldn't put it past him.
"Hermione," he started gently, "your parents…" he paused, and looked like he had an internal struggle going on behind his piercing blue eyes. "This feels too similar to the end of last year…"
Hermione knew what he was talking about, his conversation with Harry after Voldemort turning up in the Ministry of Magic and Sirius falling behind that whispering veil. Her mind stopped wandering when he looked straight at her, all hint of confusion gone from his eyes.
"Hermione, I should have told you this from the beginning but…I didn't want to get your hopes up. Hermione, you aren't a muggle-born witch."
Her face took on a look of shock. Dumbledore continued.
"Your parents aren't muggles, they are a witch and wizard, were once two of the best aurors the Ministry had and were in the Order of the Phoenix, along with Lily and James, Sirius and Alastor…they were on Voldemort's list of people who he wished to deal with personally, like Harry's parents were."
Hermione's mouth dropped open and she just stared at Dumbledore as he settled himself into one of the armchairs and continued in his soft, calm voice.
"Voldemort made a new spell, a more evolved form of the obliviate charm it made your parent forget their magical lives completely, they didn't know they were a witch and wizard, they didn't remember anything to do with magic. Your parents were the only ones we know of that the spell was used against, and it happened only a few days before Harry defeated Voldemort...because it was a new spell the Minister of Magic, at the time, thought it best to let them live as muggles, the Ministry officials got this house, gave your parents new memories so that they could function as muggles. Ever since then the Ministry, and I, have been working on an effective counter-spell, we didn't tell you because we weren't sure of our chances of finding one. I'm telling you all this now because the Ministry and myself are quite sure we have found the answer. I had to stun your parents so that they wouldn't hear this, but now I'll revive them and then attempt the spell, ok?"
Hermione sat there for a moment; her mouth still wide open and a dazed look in her eyes, Dumbledore waited patiently for her to come back to her senses. She blinked once and then glanced out the window into the garden, then swept her gaze over her slumped parents. Quietly she spoke,
"If it works, will…. will they remember anything that has happened since then?"
She looked straight at Dumbledore then, and he smiled kindly before continuing.
"Yes my dear, they will remember the last 15 years, but they will be confused as to why they were living as muggles, and things may be slightly hazy at first for them. I should think they will be wondering how the Manor is doing."
Hermione blinked stupidly again, it felt as though time was going very slowly, all this news was making her head spin. At the world manor, her mouth fell open again.
"Wha?"