A/N Ok. This is totally unrelated to the story but it is lightning and thundering and raining outside right now and we are under a tornado warning. It's so awesome! Ok, so I hope you liked chapter three. Here is chapter four. Read and Review.
Chapter Four: "Hermione Granger", Adeline Valentine, and the Lockbox
As a child, I wasn't very close to my..."parents", even when I was young. Maybe all adopted kids just hate their parents. I don't know. Some say hating your family is unnatural. Is it really? No one knew why I hated my family. Maybe if they knew it would be a different story.
I hated Mr. and Mrs. Granger because they helped my parents' killer ruin my life. I was brought to the Granger's door step by my killer as just a two year old and it had been downhill from there since than.
The Grangers were cruel to me, and they lied to me, saying that I really was their child. It was funny because a little potion I concocted in second year, which was a hundred percent accurate, told me that I wasn't their child at all. It was the kind of potion that tested DNA strands in the hair. So I threw in my hair and than some of my "mom's" and "dad's" hair. Turns out, they are both liars.
But a deeper part of me knew I didn't belong to them anyway because as a child, I knew that I couldn't be related to them. I just couldn't be. I didn't look anything like either one of them. I also didn't look anything like the rest of their family.
I always had the feeling that I didn't belong. And they most certainly made me feel like that. They were cold, aloof, unnecessarily cruel, and I disliked them from a young age. At first it was just a cool discontentment but over the years it has grown into a boiling hatred.
But it is thanks to this killer and the Grangers that I am still alive. Revenge has given me something to live for. And it all started with a party and a letter.
Before I found out I was a witch, I was treated like a simple muggle. My parents were both heads of big companies and ever since their companies had joined, they had a party once a month on a Thursday.
I remember the first party of theirs I ever went to. I'd been so young, only eleven. And yet, there I had stood in a group of upper class CEO office employees talking about the latest trends in the stock market.
No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't talk about any of the things that I wanted to talk about, like my new bike. One of the reasons was because there were no kids here. This was an adult party and there were no kids allowed. That's why most parents didn't take their children with them.
But despite that, once a month, on a Thursday, my mother would dress me up, do my make up, braid my hair, and put me in the car. And on our way to the party, we wouldn't speak to each other, a testament to our close "relationship". But at least the silence was comfortable.
Once at the office, we would meet with my dad who would guide us all into a tall very fancy looking building. And each month I would either be with my mom listening to the women around me talk about office gossip and fashion or I would be with my father, listening and joining in about conversation's on the stock market. And I would not only join in, I would state my opinions. And my father always sided with me. That way, when people took my advice, he would get the credit.
I now recognize the real reason I was dragged to these parties was because my "parents" wanted to get credit for my thinking. Oh, they would say I was smart when other people said it. And I knew they also wanted to show me off. But it wasn't lovable. It was despicable. And I felt like a trophy they had won.
I didn't truly know why they did it for a long time and the first time they had done it, I thought it was a compliment. To take me somewhere and brag about how smart I was. But I began realizing that after the party, they wouldn't congratulate me. They wouldn't say anything at all. To them, I was just a brain. And I was just a trophy to be polished, shined, and put back on the shelf.
That fateful Thursday night was no different. Except...it was.
Because at that party was when my letter for Hogwarts had arrived. My father, who had gone into his office only moments before, came out holding a letter. Upon seeing me he seized me and took me home. Like the good little trophy wife, my mother followed. But unlike usual, I rode in the car with my father. And instead of things being quiet, things were tense.
At home, they had told me that I was a witch and that I would be sent to a school called Hogwarts to learn witchcraft and wizardry. I asked them about my mark, to which they refused to answer. I asked them about wizarding beliefs in reincarnation, which they also refused answer.
Eventually, they got so uncomfortable with my questions that they took me to a bookstore and bought me every single thing they could on wizardry that way, as my father put it, they would get me to "shut up".
The only question they ever answered was when I asked them how they knew about the wizarding world.
"That's because me and your mother are a witch and wizard. We are the top aurors in the ministry of magick and our job is to make sure you grow up safe and sound without the use of any forbidden magick."
"But forbidden magick is bad isn't it? Why would I want to use it?"
He smirked but he didn't answer that either.
After that conversation, I read up on the ministry of magic. After that, I read up on everything else magickal. I wanted to prove that I was worth something and that I was magical enough to attend this wonderful school called Hogwarts. I was only interrupted in my reading for the times I had to attend those useless parties, which I was quickly beginning to grow tired of.
By the time I was ready to board the Hogwarts express at the station of King's Cross, I had already read through all the books all the way up to third year. And I had read all the books for the extra classes. I felt thankful that I remembered everything I read.
I boarded the train ride alone, my parents too busy working to take me. But even if they had tried, I would have made an excuse to go alone. I didn't want them to take me anywhere. And whereas most kids would be hurt, I was grateful. I was also grateful for what I could steal out of their wallets. a
The train ride was nice. I had sat with the Slytherins Draco Malfoy, Blaize Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson. We didn't really talk at all. In fact, we barely even asked each other's names. But we recognized each other in the line to go into the great lake by saying "Weren't you that person I sat by on the train?"
We crossed over the great lake by boats and the boy named Blaize let me borrow his coat to shield me from the cold wet. I was grateful.
We walked in, pale, cold, wet, and shivering. I began to wonder what idiot thought of this way of traveling. I swore I would hang him by his ears.
After we went through the entrance to Hogwarts, we stood there shivering waiting to eat. But the eating would come after the sorting, unfortunately.
I remember the sorting, as it is one of my favorite memories. I was taken into a dining hall called "The Great Hall" where people ate their meals in Hogwarts. I barely looked around at all. I knew what I would find.
An enchanted ceiling, four tables for four houses, a long table for the staff, and the bored faces of what was probably over a thousand students waiting to eat. There was one thing, though, that caught my attention.
It was an old hat that sat on a wooden stool and it was not what I had been expecting. I had never seen this in the pictures. Nor had I found out anything about this from what I'd read.
An old strict looking woman in a green robe with a black witches hat explained that the sorting would begin. She unrolled a long sheet of parchment and began to call out a name. For the first person, I paid attention. She was sorted and I saw that all you had to do was put a hat on your head and it would call out what house you were supposed to go into.
I barely paid attention to the sorting after that. And I didn't give the witch a single thought other than the fact to recognize that she was Minerva McGonagall, the transfiguration teacher.
For a long time, I zoned out, coming to life only when I heard names like Draco Malfoy, Blaize Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson. But other than those, the list of name became a drone. At least until the spectacle happened.
Now, the spectacle wasn't really a big thing in and of itself. But what it would come to mean later on would mean a lot. And I didn't forget to write it down in my diary.
"Adeline Valentine."
Things were quiet for a moment and I was hit with the biggest headache I had ever had all in the space of a moment because a couple of seconds later it disappeared. I had the strangest feeling all of a sudden that this woman was talking to me. But that was not my name. So why would she say that?
"It seems I have misread the name. Hermione Granger."
I knew she hadn't misread the name. I knew that she was either lying or seeing things. An insane transfiguration teacher, heh, I thought that was supposed to be reserved for the DADA position.
On my way up to the stool, I looked at the parchment of names. I looked all around for an Adeline Valentine on the paper on my way up to the stool, but it did nothing to help me. There was no name like that. Finally, I caught my name. And it did the strangest thing. One moment I was seeing Hermione Granger and than the next...
The next moment, right where my name had been, was a name called Adeline Valentine. This was the second time it happened...and it was also the first time I got a migraine in the center of my forehead.
I sat up on the stool and an old hat was placed on my head. I had an errant thought about getting head lice. But I knew I wouldn't get it thanks to a certain charm. So I wasn't worried. That was when I heard a chuckle inside my head.
Well Adeline, I never thought I would be seeing you again much less this young. But, stranger things have been known to happen. You are just like you were fifty years ago. Still worrying about your hair. And yet...you are not that shallow. You know that I have been charmed so no one will get head lice. You not only have the knowledge though. You know the spell and how to cast it without being taught.
But I am not questioning your ability with spells. I am questioning the house in which to put you. You are different than you were the last time I was placed upon your head. Let's see...your a fighter! That's new. And it points to a level of bravery that you didn't have before. But it's belied by a sense of calmness and you seem to be very removed. I would place you in Gryffindor but there would be too many hurt feelings. And I don't think they would appreciate your sneakiness. So Gryffindor is out.
Let's see...what else. You are helpful and loyal but you would have too many Hufflepuffs on the run with your sly and subtle deviant ways. But we both knew that you would not be suited for Hufflepuff.
Now here is the real mystery. Ravenclaw or Slytherin? You have all the traits necessary for both houses. In the end, it is up to you. Ravenclaw will showcase your talent for intelligence but Slytherin will not only showcase your talent for intelligence, it will lead you on a path way to life that you would have to overlook having been in Ravenclaw. The choice is yours and yours alone.
Well, not all paths in life are good ones.
Well spoken.
But than again, if this path in Slytherin keeps me busy throughout the rest of my life, than it would really be helping me achieve my goals. Besides, I would never be bored as I would in Ravenclaw. I think we both know which house I wouldliketo go in. But in the end, you must speak it aloud. Not I. For I am evenly torn.
Well than, since you are so evenly divided I will choose for you. With your talents and traits I would have to say that "It better be, SLYTHERIN!"
I walked off the stage, floating on air towards the aristocratic and prestigious Slytherin table. They seemed to welcome me with open arms. Especially a colored boy sitting right next to a pale rich snobbish handsome blond. I looked around me at the silver and green. It was such a beautiful combination.
"I rather like our table myself. The colors do seem to fit well together." He stuck out a hand with an upturned nose and I wasn't sure whether to shake his hand or to laugh. I chose the first. And my decision affected the rest of my life.
"Hello, I'm Draco Malfoy."
I shook his hand politely. "Hermione Granger."
The deep voice of the dark skinned beautiful boy rang out next to Draco. "I'm Blaize Zabini. And you are not Hermione Granger."
"Oh? And pray tell...Blaize Zabini was it? Yes, pray tell Blaize Zabini, what makes you think that I am not who I say I am? Are you implying that I am a liar?"
He smiled warmly into my cold eyes. "Not at all. What I am in fact implying is that you don't know your own lineage."
"And you speak as though you do. How would you know anything about my lineage?"
"Because, my parents knew your mom and dad. And you look exactly like the Valentine's. Besides, didn't you know that you are my cousin?"
"I'm your cousin?"
"Yes. I knew you when you were a baby. I only saw you a couple of times but I always had your picture. And you always had mine." He held up a moving photo. "Look familiar?"
"Yes. It does." I looked closer and sure enough it rang a bell. "Fire?"
"I can't believe you remember my old nickname."
I had a slight headache but I ignored it. "Well, strong memories are hard to keep locked up. So, do I really look like the Valentine's daughter?"
"Yes."
It felt right but I wouldn't believe him until he had certifiable evidence. I could feel my blood boiling in my veins. I knew that somehow, someway, I had been lied to. My eyes narrowed down to slits not out of anger at him, but anger at the Grangers for lying.
"Prove it."
"Fine. Will a picture of your pure blood parents do?"
He held up a picture and I was shocked to the core. I had seen my baby pictures before and there was no doubting that was me as a toddler being held by my handsome smiling dad and my real...mom.
I took the picture from Blaize and a scene felt almost like it was escaping me. It felt like a long buried memory that was fighting for freedom as it came to the forefront of my mind.
A man in a black cloak with a long silver beard smiles. "Kill her."
The sound of an acid stake making contact with skin assaults my innocent ears.
Crimson pours across the underside of the bed where I lay.
Droplets of red land on my nose and all I can think is "Momma".
And finally, I'm pulled out by rough arms that do not know how to handle a child.
And there she lays at the end of her life...my mother.
Her viper like tendrils of ink black hair splayed across the bed almost reminiscent of the blood pouring from her body in waves.
But despite the fact that she was dying, she smiles at me and tears fall from my eyes. It is the last time I will ever see her I know.
"Hermione, daughter, I love you."
And she dies. And I'm carried away by her killers. I was kidnapped.
Tears softly leaked from my eyes as I looked deeply into Blaize's soft dark brown ones. "Thank you."
"You remember her?"
"I'm starting to. I was there when she died. I saw her staked in the mirror I was using to see who her killer was."
I felt three different hands touch mine. One was Blaize, who was rubbing my hand with this thumb, trying to comfort me. The other was Draco, who was looking at me with empathetic eyes. The other one, I would later learn, was Pansy Parkinson. Who would turn out to be my number one best friend. And together, we made the Slithering Serpent. Or at least, that was what everybody called us.
That same year, I secretly made friends with a boy who knew exactly how I felt. Secretly, because he was a Gryffindor. He had green eyes, messy black hair, and a lightning bolt shaped scar on his head. But I was not friends with him because he was rich or famous. His blood status was way below mine but that didn't stop me from befriending him.
I was friends with him for a different reason. Our relationship was built on pain, something I should have realized would only end up in the same thing. Pain. This boy knew exactly what it was like to be unloved. This boy knew exactly what it was like to lose both parents to a killer. This boy knew what it was like to be used and abused. This boy's name, was Harry Potter. And all throughout first year, we secretly met to talk.
But first year at Hogwarts was much more entertaining than secret meetings. First year at Hogwarts was just as interesting as the rest would turn out to be. A troll got into the girls bathroom, which I saved Harry from. And than I escaped before anyone could see me. I let Harry take the credit and I honestly didn't mind.
And at the end of first year, a man named Voldemort tried to capture a stone that would give him immortality. Harry said that was a bad thing but I appreciated Voldemort's ambitiousness. And he obviously was very sneaky if he could get into Hogwarts right under that old crackpot fools nose. So he was sneaky and intelligent too. That would have taken a lot of planning. I found that to be very interesting.
I wanted to know a little bit more about Voldemort so I asked Harry if he could remember real hard about the fight that had taken place deep underneath the castle. I wanted to know everything about the fight. And the memory was pulled up right before my eyes. And to this day, I can still remember what he had told Harry.
"She will betray you Harry Potter. Playing with venomous serpent's without getting bit will only last so long. I wish you luck. For even I will not be able to stop the wrath that comes."
I stored that away for future speculation, writing it down in a diary. I also found a secret room towards the end of the year that would spare me having to live with the annoying perky peppies up above. In this secret room, I could read to my hearts content. And on the bed were two names inscribed inside a heart. Adeline & Tom.
Second year was just as interesting as the first. A man named Tom Riddle got into Hogwarts possessing students using a diary. And he was going on a random killing spree using the Basilisk. Which, Harry ended up killing. But I was the one who figured out it was a Basilisk. Unfortunately, I was petrified. But, I promised myself to make up for lost time.
Third year, I was starting to get tired of helping Potter. But none the less, I helped Harry save his precious godfather and a hyppogriff named Buckbeak. It only served to remind me of what an idiot Malfoy was when he had broken his arm. Stupid blond twit.
Fourth year was exciting. I went to the Famous Wizarding Quidditch World Cup. The game itself was boring. But what happened after the game was fun. Lucius got a couple of his friends together for some muggle torture in the name of the dark lord.
I think they did it because they thought the dark lord was going to come back. Lucius kept saying that his dark mark was getting stronger. I thought maybe it was related to mine but I decided not. My mark was always strong.
Me and Draco waited in the forest and I had to admit it was rather exciting to watch. But I didn't really want to be a part of it. Apparently, neither did Draco. But he was fascinated and watching as well.
That same year, a deatheater impersonating Mad Eye Moody entered Harry's name in a drawing for the triwizard tournament. Of course, he made sure Harry won. And Harry met the man face to face that I was dying to meet. Voldemort.
A couple of hours after Harry returned, I examined the cup and ran some diagnostics on it. Than I placed the charm on a spare necklace I had and it delivered me straight to where Harry went. I saw a disgusting rat-man cleaning up the mess. Yes. He was a deatheater. I could see his mark.
I leaned against a tombstone and twirled my wand between my fingers. This wizard was weak and easily intimidated. "Excuse me. I am looking for Lord Voldemort. Have you seen him?"
His small beady eyes looked at mine and his facial feature quickly changed from dangerous to terrified. "Y-y-yes mistress." He gave a low bow. "I seen him return. I helped him. But I don't knows where's he's gone. If I did I would tell you my queen."
Queen?
"I see. Well than, give him a message for me. Tell him that Adeline Valentine is back." I formed a long intricate black and silver rose with the wave of my hand and entwined around the rose was a live baby viper. I put the rose in a glass case while crooning Parseltongue to the young snake. And as soon as the glass case shut, the snake froze.
"This tiny serpent will unfreeze when me and Voldemort are together again. Give this to him. Now. Oh and by the way, since I can't have Voldemort killing my messenger," I waved my wand and performed a wordless evanesco "I thought I would clean up the grounds myself. Really, it is so much easier to do it with magic. Are you a wizard or a muggle? Now go!"
Man, this queen stuff was fun. No wonder Voldemort liked being dark lord. I could get used to this. But on a more serious note, what did rat-man mean by queen?
I watched him disappear, frightened of me obviously. And I decided that this whole queen thing was certainly worth looking into. When I returned to Hogwarts and walked through the den of Snakes, I saw that the whole of Slytherin was in full party mode, celebrating the dark lord's return as I found out.
But I didn't really understand what the big deal was about the dark lord and all that. I would have to find out about that. I walked through the party goers, a notice me not charm making me all but invisible. It was so easy to slip inside this little home unnoticed. I went back to my secret room.
When I got inside, I once again wrote what I had found out in my diary and notes on what I had to find out. But something else caught my attention. It was the heart bearing the Adeline and Tom inscriptions. And I realized that it was hand carved by both of us. Me and Tom. Because that was my handwriting! I took a picture of it with my wand and transferred it to my diary.
I was excited. For I had just figured out the first piece of the puzzle.
I was a reincarnation. That would explain why I looked and acted exactly like Adeline, according to Lucius and others who knew her. That would also have to mean that I was a pureblood. And since I was sure that I was a reincarnation, that further prove Blaize's statement from first year. I also looked up who Adeline Valentine belonged to and yep. There is was in the family tree.
So, I was Adeline. A descendent of some of the greatest witches and wizards of all time. I was powerful, a witch, a vampire, I could talk to snakes, and my lover was Tom Riddle.
I could easily accept that I was no Hermione. I was Adeline. There was no other soul inside of me but hers…mine.
And this mysterious love that I felt for the dark lord, this also came from me. A me in the past. That would explain the queen thing since he was a lord. But there were still pieces of the puzzle missing. Like who exactly killed my parents. So before I could find out more about myself and the man who killed my parents, I found out more about Voldemort.
In finagling details out of my fellow Slytherins around the fire, I found that Voldemort had killed Harry Potter or tried to but Harry defeated him. Harry was the reason my lover was more or less dead. Or used to be dead.
At that point, I cut myself off from Harry Potter. And in the summer of my fourth year, I was getting nowhere to finding out what I needed to know. But I quickly put two and two together. If I wanted to find out more, I needed to go to the place where I was born.
So, I tricked my "parents" into thinking that I was with Blaize. Than I told Blaize where I was really going to be and he said he would cover for me. I told him I would visit him when I was through to make the lie look more believable.
Before the summer arrived, I had gotten a room in the last place anyone would think to look. Hogsmead.
I had decided on Hogsmead because it was crowded over the summer and it would be the perfect place to book a room. I was thankful I had booked a room several months in advance. And the room I booked was a fancy comfortable one at the three broomsticks.
Blaize complained that it was crowded and he was worried I would get caught. But I knew he was wrong. Large crowds were just fine with me. A crowded place was the perfect place to hide. A person could so easily lose themselves within a sea of faces. And mine wasn't that recognizable with a couple of heavy charms.
One night, in the middle of the summer, I left my room and did a little bit of self discovery. I knew that most things I had been told by my auror parents were untrue. So I had to find things out on my own. Starting with my two "birthmarks". One, I had never told anyone about. It was a simple word that said lockbox on my inner thigh. But what could that mean?
Lockboxes are used for two things. One, to store something private and keep it safe. But two, they were also used for belongings you'd want to lock up. What would I want to lock up?
The question was a repeat in my mind. I was curious because I didn't own anything illegal…yet. And I didn't have anything that I would want to keep safe from anyone else except my…memories! That was the key! They key was my memories!
I would want those locked up because one had already escaped and it was too painful for me to deal with! Yes, that was the answer. The lockbox was not a physical one. It was in my mind.
So if it was memories that I was trying to lock up, all I had to do was self legilimens my mind. I walked into the house, sat down on a couch, pointed my wand at myself and muttered "Legilimens!"
And suddenly, I was inside my own mind. A zen garden, just like I'd always imagined it. So peaceful. But when I looked behind me there was a beach. I was not aware that my mind was connected because that was what this had to be. My mind must be connected to anothers. But who's? I would have to remember to write that down in my diary.
I looked around for a lockbox in my mind but I knew that it wouldn't be that easy. I walked past the zen garden and stopped before the door where my nightmares were kept. The nightmares of past and present. I sucked up my courage and stepped inside. Immediately, I started looking around on the floor and I found it. A trap door. I opened it up and was flooded with memories. And within these memories I found the answers to most of my questions.
When I came to I realized that the mark on my thigh had disappeared. And I now had all my answers. My mind was shared with Voldemort's. And me and Voldemort were bonded and when I came of age the second part of the bond would take place. The mark on my arm was a result of that bond. My parents were killed by what I now recognized was the Order of the Phoenix. And the voice of the murderer was Albus Dumbledore.
I also recognized that my nightmares, the girl chained to the bed, was a symbol of my power. My power was chained. But by who? I knew that it was escaping in short bursts. But I knew that if I didn't set it free soon, the way it escaped would kill me. But before I could let it go, it had to submit to me and answer my questions.
But how did I set it free? And how did I get answers from myself that I was sure she wasn't willing to give? And if she was within my power, why wasn't she willing to give me my answers? So many questions. Too little time.
I walked from the living room and decided to pay a tribute to my mother but she was not where I left her. She was by a …pensieve!
I bent over it and I was pulled inside. And there, standing in the middle of her mind, was my beautiful mother.
"Honey, I know you are watching this. This is my last memory to give to you. I want you to know how much I love you and that I did not die in vain. I died for you. And what you need to do to repay me is find Tom and live out the rest of your life. Before you ask, Tom Riddle goes by another name. I don't know if the name Lord Voldemort means anything to you. He was already going by it in my time. And he had plans to change his name to that permanently. Find him Hermione. He is the only one that can keep you safe from Albus Dumbledore. I love you dearest Hermione. And your diary is in the grate near the floorboards behind your bed in your room. It will explain everything. I love you. And your Gringotts number is 3241. The key is in my right pocket. All the money goes to you. We have no other relatives in our will. I love you."
The memory disappeared and with tears in my eyes, I scooped up the memory of my mother into a bottle and left the room. I wiped the tears from my eyes and put on my brave face. I had some work to do.
A/N Ooooh, I wonder what Hermione is going to find? Don't you? Ya know, this was like twelve pages long in Microsoft word and I was like what the…? I didn't even expect it to be that long because I had such writers block. But here ya go. I will now start writing the next chapter.
