DISCLAIMER: HP belongs to JKR. The storyline, all new characters, new character development, new developments are my intellectual property. Glorioux
Fears and mistakes
"When the fuck did Bella get to her, what is going on?" She could hear Voldemort screaming directions and cussing in between.
Abraxas screamed for Dobby, the oddball elf, "Bring Muctis; I don't care what he is doing, right away." He moved forward, "Let me help, she is going into shock."
Voldemort was trying to pick her up but she bent into a ball, and her pupils rolled back.
"Nobody touches her," Voldemort went on his knees, he wanted to be face to face. His hand rubbed her back. "You are safe. No Bella here, you are safe. My dear, I am here, shh."
She would not stop screaming, telling Bella to stop, and, "Don't tell him to cut me." And the worse, "Daddy, Mommy, help me," until blood started to come out her ears and nose. After that, only terrible screams of pain could be heard as spasms ran along her body.
He was turning into a madman, his stress could be felt by all. "Fucking hell, bring help." It looked as if a storm was brewing inside, cold winds blew around the room; it felt oppressive; however, nobody dared to say anything.
A loud Pop, and Dobby, Lucius' nemesis, was there. Dobby was Mipzy's nephew. He hated Malfoy Manor, but for the first time ever, he showed concern. He'd retrieved Muctis, the healer, who was delivering a baby and brought him back in less than a minute.
After he brought Muctis, he stayed to help without being asked. Lucius harrumphed when the ornery house-elf stood near the which twisting his hands in anguish. He liked the witch on first sight, a first for him, "Poors the young missis, poor, poors dear, poor the missis," Dobby kept repeating.
"Filthy elf, dressed like a pauper; don't touch her," Lucius mumbled until Abraxas squeezed his arm.
Muctis, the healer, pulled out his wand and conjured a fine warm-scented mist right over Hermione. Right away, her body relaxed.
"Bring beef tea with a drop of sherry." He ordered Dobby, and he brought it in record time.
He then murmured several charms, shaking his head every time. Blessedly the screams stopped. The healer kept grumbling that this wasn't right. A few minutes later, she had relaxed enough to examine her. "My Lord, please allow me to hold her."
"If you hurt her, you are dead." He had threatened to kill all of them, several times already. He meant it, and they all knew it.
"I understand, it will not happen."
Muctis sat by her, held her head, and pointed the wand around her head. He looked upset with his findings. Muctis took the beef tea and added a potion.
Voldemort stood right behind, ready to strike.
Hermione was coming back, someone was holding her, "Young lady, take this, drink it, you are okay, that's better." It was a kind voice.
"What did you find out?" Voldemort asked while Muctis looked at the injuries around her neck.
"This is rather unusual; she has been exposed to high levels of punishing curses. Her signs are good, she will be fine, but needs a lot of rest and to be cared for. I have the magic signatures, maybe we can figure out who damaged her."
When the one holding her moved, Hermione, tried to open her eyes. Whereas the pain was better, she wasn't sure what had happened.
Someone knocked at the door, and a 19-year-old Snape entered the room. Hermione finally opened her eyes, and, immediately, noticed how different he was. The pain of losing Lily had not hit him yet, yet Severus looked sad and pale. She also saw the one leaving, a Healer, he was around Abraxas age and had a kind face.
As for Severus, he gave her a glance, a cursory look to the injured witch, but no more than that.
"You called Sir?" He directed his question to the Dark Lord.
"Did you bring the items I required? And if so, do the tests now."
Severus reached for her hand and cut a small nick, just enough to draw a few drops of blood. He was a little rough and it stung badly, but Hermione knowing Voldemort's wicked temper didn't move a muscle for Snape's sake.
He mixed the blood with a purple drop, and with his wand divided it into two tubes. He repeated the procedure with the Dark Lord's blood; and lastly, Voldemort passed him a few hairs he'd conjured from a silk pouch that he pulled out of his cloak.
Severus repeated the procedure, adding a green drop into the four tubes. Then placed the hairs in another vial and added the purple and green drops.
"Sir, you are aware the hair is not as accurate."
"I know Snape, do your job."
They all waited patiently while Snape wrapped the vials in a piece of black cloth, and shook them for at least a couple of minutes, with clock and counter clock motions, in a sequence logical only known to him. All the while, he muttered a few incantations under his breath. Hermione could not take her eyes away from him.
Finally, he placed the vials over a night table, pulled out his wand, and made a few flourishes above the vials.
In seconds, writing appeared on top of the table. It was as if someone were projecting the writing. The color of the letters was dark, and they shone, making the message easy to read. It read:
Species: Human
Type: Magical
Name: Hermione Jean
Last Name: Granger
Born: Not yet born, Later on, September 1979
Parents: Thomas Riddle and Jean de L'Argent, presently Granger.
Everyone's was surprised. "My Lord, I thought you indicated the mother was a Mudblood, and how can be that she is not born? " Abraxas exclaimed.
Voldemort growled. "A Muggleborn, NOT A MUDBLOOD, don't call her any names. SAY IT AGAIN, AND I WILL CUT OUT YOUR TONGUE! "
He looked around the room, "What you heard today from me was in confidence. Do you want to die today? And yes, that is what I thought. Has my newly found darling daughter found the secret to time travel? She will need to explain a lot, or, perhaps, she is a hoax?"
He came to her before she could open her mouth and put a hand over her forehead. Hermione had learned some Occlumency, but there wasn't a way to resist such an invasion. Her face appeared in great pain, and her eyes reflected horror.
"AGGGHHH, Fuck, what is that."
Voldemort roared, pulling his hand away from her. His hand was bleeding in places, and he was shocked ."What did you do and what was that? How did you do that? Who the fuck are you? Are you even human?" He looked at her with fear; he was pale and shaking. He was afraid, none of them had ever seen him scared before.
"I did nothing," she spoke in a thin voice, her heart beating way too fast. "All I felt was the same shock felt by you." They looked and saw a nasty gash on her forehead, bleeding profusely.
Voldemort looked at his hand and wiped in on his robe. He was not cut, it was her.
She faded away with the blood loss. "I am coming; my loves, wait for me."
She saw her Harry and her Ron, and all her dead friends. Her beloved Harry was calling her, "Come, my love, come, no more pain, come."
"My loves, wait for me…" her voice faded. Everyone heard her; her breathing was labored, her body was giving up.
"If she dies, everyone in here dies."
Abraxas know that he would kill them all; each one of his threats wasn't in vain.
The witch was beautiful and brave. Rabastan already knew she was all he did and would ever want; she couldn't die.
Where were her parents? Hermione wondered she couldn't see them.
Her Parents
Robert and Jean Granger - At the promenade party
On the 23rd of December 1978, at the party at the promenade, Jean had seen the Dark Lord; she had recognized him and could not resist his allure. She was doomed; she should have run. She guessed it wouldn't have mattered, some said that you couldn't escape your destiny, it always found you.
The year was 1943, her grandmother had run away with her children because of Jean's grandfather Gellert Grindelwald. They left to hide, away from him. That was the official story.
She took back her mother's maiden name, it wasn't well known in wizarding circles, and few knew of her union with the older wizard. She had simply gone away, he had married her wanting an heir, but she grew fearful of him. Her parents had a small winery in the Alsace-Lorraine region. Her father was German, and her mother was French. Marguerite spoke Alsatian, a Germanic dialect; one of the reasons Grindenwald sought her out.
People said that Grindenwald had stopped for a meal and a glass of wine, and saw a healthy and beautiful wife on Marguerite. Her parents were forced to give the daughter to the older Wizard because they were afraid of him. He set her up in an Unplotted villa; albeit she hardly saw him, it must have been enough to have three children with him.
When she ran away, her daughter Marie was young, barely sixteen, yet was already betrothed to Edmond L'Argent. The country was at war, and they were in danger from both sides. Ironically, the chaos around the Muggle communities facilitated their escape.
Edmond went with Marie, to help Frau Grindenwald since the boys were so young, one four and the other seven. He was from an old pureblood French family, and his parents, although not very rich, helped them to get away using their influence, and gave them a large amount of gold to help them.
The large group lived under assumed names, and the young couple waited for years to have a child until they deemed it safe. They eventually moved to a new location, bought a vineyard, and their business was prospering. Marie was nearly thirty-one when Jean was born in 1959.
Alas, their happiness was not to last; tragically, all her family died during a house fire a few years later. Her uncles and her father all worked in the vineyard, something they all knew how to do.
They had grown prosperous over the years; confident that all the danger had lessened, they relaxed. Marie, her mother, had two more children a four years old girl, and a baby boy. Uncle Armand and his new bride, who was pregnant, also lived in the house. They all perished during the fire; apparently, they were napping after a large lunch.
She had been at school when it happened, and the village doctor, a squib, an old friend of the L'Argent family hid her for weeks, while strange people went around asking questions. One was a man with a long beard and blue eyes, she had seen his picture many times.
Her grandmother had lived in fear for years from both the dark and the light wizards. She had especially feared Albus Dumbledore.
Dr. Marcel Rouge also went around asking his own questions, and his findings pointed to a militant group whose head was Dumbledore. Dumbledore had said that any spawn from Grindelwald was evil and must die. A group of six, some gendarmes from the British Magical Ministry, were there with him.
During days preceding the fire, they had shown around pictures of Grindenwald and of her grandmother to the locals. They told them they had news from their relatives lost during the last Muggle war. Unfortunately, her two uncles apparently resembled her grandfather but for the curly hair. The ones looking for the family identified them, and found out where they lived; and, a few days later, ten people died during the fire.
Dr. Rouge told Jean a story he had heard; her grandfather had been good friends with Dumbledore, and they had a big fight. Since Grindenwald was a powerful wizard, many families wanted him to marry one of their heiresses, and he had chosen her grandmother, reputed, to be a great beauty. Edmond's parents thought it had been a love match.
Dumbledore and his militant group that went by The Order of Phoenix were now at war with a new Dark Lord, Tom Riddle. They were even more dangerous. He was almost sure that her grandmother was hiding, not from her grandfather but from Dumbledore.
Dr. Rouge sent the young girl to an unmarried aunt in London. Aunt Philomena Mansur was not a full squib, but her magic was negligent. However, she kept in touch with the main news.
Jean never went to wizarding schools and kept a low profile. Although she was not interested in magic after seeing so much death and destruction, she had private instructions. Her magic was more than poweful, but she learned to conceal it.
She heard plenty about Tom Riddle and had fallen for him. She had cut his pictures from her aunt's newspaper and magazines. Something about his darkness attracted her, and she couldn't fight it.
Later she had made sure to hide her family from both the Dark and the Light. She knew of Dumbledore's craziness, and how he had made a powerful Dark Lord with his carelessness, by pushing a damaged young child to extremes.
When she saw Tom, she knew who he was. He was beautiful, even more so in person. Recklessly, Jean flirted shamelessly with him. Jean imagined she had some darkness in her; after all, she was the granddaughter of one of the evilest dark wizards of all times. Tom was a lot older than her, but she didn't care.
She gave him her innocence, he didn't even have to try. The times they got together, he wasn't cruel, but neither was he gentle. The later was the problem. As all of her family's witches, she knew the same day she got pregnant; unfortunate for Voldemort, she wanted her child to be a gentle person.
He had not kissed her until the last time they were together; he had told her, "My Mudblood, you are all the same, all whores." Even though he couldn't stop kissing her; once he got started, he had kissed her until her lips bled.
"I am leaving, but I will be back in two days. Be here, I am not a man to be toyed with. Don't make me angry." Those were his goodbye words.
It was a good thing that this was France, she had been visiting friends, and she had given him the name of the aunt that had adopted her, Mansur.
Jean knew that she had made the wrong decision, love was not enough; thus, she told Robert of her ill-timed affair; besides she wanted her child to learn well. What she didn't tell him was that she still loved Tom and would for the rest of her life.
Robert was sweet, she had met him at the University, and he had been a teaching assistant. They married on the 3rd of January 1979, in an abbey. His parents weren't happy, but he was over the top, not sure if he could make her pregnant. He had an embarrassing STD during his first year away from home, and he was told that more than likely it had rendered him sterile.
Robert loved Jean, but, mostly, he loved the baby. Now he could give his parents an heir, that was what they wanted, and they didn't even have to know. He had a shameful secret, and this would allow him to hide it.
Voldemort's Change of Heart
Malfoy Manor
When he had touched Hermione's forehead, Voldemort had seen fire and death, and a body exploding in the air. When he looked inside Hermione, he had wanted to kill her, afraid of what he learned. What he had seen was just wrong.
He saw the face of all those he had killed, melting in the air. He also saw his daughter being killed by one of his Death Eaters with a green light. Seeing her dying destroyed the hard-dark shell encasing his soul, and everything imploded inside him; he felt as if some dark pieces had loosened up inside his heart.
He was feeling rather strange. Not his daughter, his daughter had died, what had he done? He had killed her with his own hand, or at least it was all his fault. Nothing as horrifying as when he saw a horrible creature, a snake-man; it was himself, and that could never come to pass.
He was quiet for a while. And surprising everyone, he sat by the trembling witch and placed a cold press to her forehead. Then he bent, lay his head sideways on her chest, and held her, he used her as a pillow. They could see his shaky hands, he wasn't well. He just lay there and closed his eyes. Everyone looked away in fear; they knew they shouldn't watch.
After a while, he stood up. "Lucius and Rabastan, tonight, you will marry my daughter."
a/n okay, so he orders... now she has met two more, Dobby and Snape.
