Title: Destiny's Charm
Abstract: Time was not to be toyed with, she understood. But when all hope seems lost, Hermione's destiny changes as she was unwittingly tossed back to the Marauders' era with her memories intact. With the fabric of time re-stitched with the inclusion of a Hermione Meadowes, will history be rewritten this time round? AU. (RB/HG)
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter universe, much to my eternal regret.
A/N: Welcome back! This chapter took awhile but here it is! I'll be flying off over the weekend so I can only hope I can get the next chapter out in time for Christmas :) I'm getting into the holiday groove so cookies and peeping santas for y'all! (only my favourite lush bath companion for you lot)
Also, some review replies in the A/N at the end of this chapter :)
Chapter 3: Tente Ta Chance
/ Take A Chance /
"This moment or this chance they are the same and they are mine if I choose them and I do. I want them. Now and as long as I can have them they are both precious and fleeting and gone in the blink of an eye don't waste them. A moment and an opportunity and a life, all in the unseen tick of a clock holding me nowhere. My heart is beating."
Meadowes Manor, September 1973
"Maman?"
Amélie Meadowes startled slightly, pale hands pitching forward to break her stumble into the rose bushes she had been tending to. Relieved that she hadn't made the acquaintance of any of those nasty thorns, perhaps it was time to remove those she noted, the elegant blonde swirled upright to face her pink-cheeked daughter who squirmed in embarrassment.
"Really Hermione, give this old lady some warning" Amélie teased lightly, "What is it dear?"
Realizing she wasn't about to get into trouble, the little brunette perked up immediately, joining Amélie by her side eagerly when the older witch crossed over to the courtyard and patted at the marble bench beside her. It was early dawn and the slight drizzle had left a sheen of morning dew on the cool surface but the two witches were unconcerned, content to enjoy the ruffling of the breeze outdoors.
Her youngest daughter had descended into full-on moping mode the past week with the absence of her sister, the usually bubbly and inquisitive girl becoming increasingly reticent until even her governess had drawn the lady of the manor aside to express her concerns. It had only let up briefly when Matty, the speckled family owl, had soared into the manor one morning, Dorcas's letter in its clutches. To no one's surprise, the outgoing blonde had been sorted into Gryffindor. She had chattered on about her new dorms and tacked on at the end a last bit of news. News that had sent eyes widening round the dining table.
Oh, and Herms, remember Sirius Black? That charming ponce actually got himself landed in Gryffindor, imagine that! He seemed rather nice though and he clicked with James right away too!
Imagine that, indeed. Richard had sent her an amazed look as they both pondered the upheaval that had to be happening in response to this bombshell over at Grimmauld Place. She wasn't sure about Orion Black, that man had always kept to himself and his own but Walburga Black . . . now that was one witch who would be going round the bend and back at the news. Really, Amélie half expected the woman to send a volley of Howlers to the poor boy, she thought disconsolately.
"Maman, why did you and papa invite Regulus Black over when you don't . . . care for their family much? Curiosity tinged the innocent words as Hermione stumbled over how to phrase the delicate question.
Lady Meadowes chuckled quietly, watching her daughter's head shoot up in surprise "No son should have to bear the sins of the father, mon cher. The young Black is his own person and he should only be responsible for his own actions" A light of understanding flickered in her brown eyes as she nodded thoughtfully. Her mother could nearly see the gears grinding as the brunette turned the words over her head in deliberation.
What went unspoken was that Amélie had told her husband of her theory in the privacy of their chambers after the first playdate. And Richard, that wonderful, wonderful man, the blonde witch thought fondly, had agreed to extend regular invitations to Orion and Walburga's sons. Not a moment went by in their thirteen years of marriage without him surprising her at every turn with his open-mindedness and respect and she loved him dearly for it.
Amélie watched in amusement as Hermione continued to puzzle out something in her head distractedly, paying no heed when her mother leaned back to manipulate her unruly curls into a neat French braid.
Of her two daughters, Hermione had always been the more bookish, less girlish one. While Dorcas, the blonde-haired sprite, thrived on dolls, makeup and dresses, her younger sister shied away from them, preferring the comfort and intimacy of the written word. Consequently, as the girls grew older and came into maturity, both she and Richard hadn't been surprised at all that their personalities had bloomed the way they did. Intelligent and bashful, their youngest had grown to be a thoughtful young lady, a tad too thoughtful if some were asked but it didn't bother the Meadowes one bit.
When it seemed the young girl had finally come to a decision of sorts, it was a decisive nod that alerted the girl's mother.
Hermione smoothed the wrinkles in her robes before turning to her mother with the sunny smile she had missed all week. "Shall we invite him over for tea tomorrow then? The little witch ventured, fingering her braid as she kicked her legs up in the air carelessly, head tilted back in calm relaxation. "After my lessons though! Governess Eileen said she'll test me on the theory we went through . . ." She hurriedly added, pretty face lit up in guileless glee as her mind turned back to the work they had been doing.
"Yes we shall, Hermione"
:-***-:-***-:-***-:
"So can I expect this to be a regular occurrence Ms Meadowes?"
The polished drawl of Regulus Black came from the direction of the bench he had promptly settled himself on when Hermione's parents had left them to their own devices after the customary scone and tea. Now, Hermione paused in her strolling to quirk an eyebrow at the boy. He was sitting stiff-backed, robes falling in a pool around him though his head was tilted back towards the pavilion.
"Well?" He gazed at her, eyes probing.
Plopping herself onto the ground carelessly, she shrugged "Sit with me Regulus"
"I'm not partial to frolicking around in the dirt Ms Meadowes" His lip curled in disgust when she rolled her eyes in response and simply laid down, eyes closed in peaceful enjoyment.
"That's Hermione to you" she opened her eyes lazily, aiming a small smile his way, "And its carpet grass you ninny, it's perfectly soft and comfortable"
The brunette patted the grass next to her, watching in undisguised fascination when he eyed it briefly before he got to his feet hesitantly to join her. She turned back to her studying of the evening sky; the altocumulus clouds glazing streaky tendrils of white against a pristine canvass of blue. It would be lovely to paint again if the good weather kept up, Hermione made a mental note to suggest it to her parents, she knew they would greatly enjoy having a new art piece in the parlor.
Her inane musings continued before she remembered his original question with a start "Would you like to be a regular occurrence?" she asked softly.
Regulus crossed his arms behind him, pursing his lips in thought before he appeared to relax minutely. "Yes, I think I would . . . Hermione" he finally said, admiring the small smile that had graced her face when her name fell from his lips.
They sat in companionable silence for a moment, neither keen to disturb the tacit truce. The last two occasions when they had met hadn't stopped them from crossing swords from the get go but this . . . this was a nice change, she thought he almost seemed tolerable. Only when he was silent of course, she hid a cheeky smile before it showed, the boy annoyed her like no other when he deftly returned her question for question instead of giving her the answers she needed. Hermione wasn't used to meeting a counterpart who challenged her way of thought and came out on top, often time, she presented facts and opinions so smoothly and confidently that most were content to accept them for truth and leave it at that. Not this boy though, a little frown appeared as she admitted to herself begrudgingly, he kept her on her toes and left her positively thrumming in intellectual anticipation and curiosity in his wake. There was also that matter of . . .
"I read the book you recommended" she informed him primly, a lecturing tone inflecting her words "Theory on Origins, Magical Cores and Signatures clearly states that the magical core lies on a higher plane of existence and its potential is channelled into the material plane of existence that is a wand. Its longevity and purity is wholly dependent on the –"her impassioned voice faltered when he held up a hand languidly.
"You got everything right except for that last sentence Hermione" he said, craning his neck to face her calmly when he started to feel the force of her glare burning a hole in the side of his head. A fiery one, she sure was, he smirked innocently back at her. "The author of Theory on Origins, Magical Cores and Signatures is Sir Mallick, a wizard of Indian origin who adopted the essence of the Sanskrit Gita in his synthesis of the magical core. The Bhagavad Gita itself offers a Brahmanical perspective of the Dharma."
He glanced at her to check if she was following and found her lost in thought, quietly contemplating the gravity of what he had just said.
"Know that the Self is the rider, and the Core the chariot; that the Wand is the charioteer, and Blood the reins."
This seemed to break the pretty brunette from her trance. She twisted around, eyes blazing wildly as she grabbed his hand and gave it a rough shake. "That's it! All along, he didn't mean blood, not in the literal sense anyway!" He nodded admiringly at her swift deduction. His attention, however, remain riveted to where her hand was still wrapped around his and oddly, he found himself wanting this moment to prolong itself. Touch or any form of physical affection wasn't something he was accustomed to.
"He meant that our magical ability is tied to the accessibility of our magical cores, didn't he? It's all about probabilities! Purebloods have a higher probability that their genome will grant their offspring accessibility to their magical cores. And muggleborns . . . "
"Are a complete genetic wildcard" he completed airily, "They are afraid bringing in muggleborns will results in more squibs and compromise the integrity of the next generation's magical core" relishing the light of understanding that dawned in her chocolate eyes before they took on a determined sheen.
"You know about genes then?" she returned eagerly "But every individual's probability varies, if we can isolate the genes that allows wizards and witches accessibility to their magical core, then, then this will eradicate the whole basis for blood purity!"
He snorted, tightening his grip on her hand when she moved to withdraw from him huffily, "It's not that simple Hermione, our kind doesn't have any idea of what science is, let alone biology" Regulus held up a hand again when he saw her prepare herself for a rebuttal, "And before you say anything, I only have a cursory understanding because remember, know thy enemy"
She visibly deflated then and her bottom lip jutted out slightly, the black-haired boy internally wondered if she knew just how unintentionally adorable she looked right then.
"You haven't snarked me once today" Hermione commented suddenly, surprising herself and her companion with the change of topic, "Why is that so?"
From the corner of her eyes, she saw his one side of his lips curl up faintly. He looked peaceful with his eyes closed and dare she say it, a small smile. At rest, the tension that wound the boy up tight seemed to melt away. Without that hard exterior he usually put up, he appeared young. Young and vulnerable, something she was sure he didn't let himself be often, she mused sadly. He adjusted himself casually, still with his eyes closed, bunching up the midnight robes so they formed a velvety cushion. "You only have to tell me if you miss it Hermione" he hummed contentedly, cracking an eye open to wink at her audaciously "I aim to please"
Even though he couldn't see it, she rolled her eyes and chose to turn so she could prop herself up on her elbows. "Be careful Regulus, you're one snarky comment away from facing the wrong end of my wand" Hermione sniffed, never mind that technically she, or he for that matter, hadn't and wouldn't be getting her wand until they were both set for Hogwarts next year.
Apparently, her threat didn't sound as dangerous as she had hoped it would, for his grey-blue eyes flew open and flooded over with mirth. The hearty chuckles that spilled forth forced him to heave up from his makeshift resting spot as she mock scowled. But even that faded away when she spotted it.
It turned out to be a dimple.
Regulus Black had a dimple.
A little dent stretched taut across his alabaster skin by the force of his laughter. And holy Merlin, but it was adorable and she was struck by a childish desire to trace it with a fingertip.
"Regulus" she suddenly said, "You . . . you have a dimple"
Face flushed and dimple flashing, he came down from his hysterics instantly, his eyes losing the hilarity they held before.
"No I don't!" he spluttered, watching as she raised a brow silently in challenge.
"Cut it out, there's nothing okay?" his voice was flat now, posture screaming of defiance.
Hands perched on her hips, she pouted, irrationally disappointed that her dimple wasn't visible anymore "I'm telling you, I saw it! You don't have to lie about it you know"
He growled, a low throaty sound that had her rolling her eyes yet again, "A dimple isn't manly"
This time, it was her turn to let loose a peal of tinkling laughter. Eyeing the sulking boy impishly, she leaned forward to flick the tip of his aquiline nose, darting back a step when he winced and scrunched it up. She wouldn't put it past him to come up with some hare-brained plot for revenge after a perceived slight against his manhood, that sneaky snake.
"Well, I like it" Hermione announced cheerily, hoping it would appease him. She didn't know it then but it did, though of course that didn't stop him from sending her his best sneer.
Knowing she liked his blasted dimple made him like it too, manliness be damned.
:-***-:-***-:-***-:
Meadowes Manor, October 1973
Diligently, Hermione worked through the set of arithmancy problems, pausing periodically only to consult her worn copy of Theory of Numerology. Reaching the last of the questions her governess had given her, she sighed contentedly and glanced next to her where the woman had been sitting. When her eyes didn't meet with the coal black ones of her governess, she swivelled around, immediately finding the stately witch by the windows.
"Governess Eileen, I'm finished" she said, gathering her parchments into order.
The woman joined her at the table, long strides taking her there in seconds. Offering the assignment to her silently, Hermione watched as the governess palmed through it and started correcting her work, quill dancing across the parchments deftly. In the silence, the brunette witch observed the lines etched on the woman's forehead, how her thin lips were pressed in a firm line, the first few silver strands speckling through her crown despite multiple glamours cast. The elder woman was tense, she realized in concern, like a bow on the verge of snapping if the state of her appearance was anything to go by. And Hermione would wager it was about . . .
"How's Severus, Governess Eileen?" she asked.
At the name of her son, the woman's hand stilled momentarily before it resumed its dance, "As well as any Slytherin first year I presume" The smile she gave Hermione didn't reach her eyes and it was telling. Despite so, she let it slide, knowing her tip-lipped governess would share once she felt comfortable.
Sliding her favourite book from the shelves, Hermione flicked through the pages reverently until she found a dog-eared one indicating where she had last stopped. With a satisfied hum, she lost herself once again in Hogwarts A History, eyes roving over the pages greedily. This is where Dorcas, James and Sirius were at now. Where she would be next year and oh, she simply couldn't wait!
Though everyone in the family had their galleons on Ravenclaw, Hermione was secretly hoping her bookishness would not automatically send her into the house of the eagles. All through summer, and then some, she had pored over the section of the book under houses and weighed the pros and cons of each house. Whilst all four had their own merits and drawbacks, the brunette had quietly set her heart on Gryffindor. So many usually focussed on her intelligence and desire to learn that they did not deign to investigate what else lay beneath and she felt certain being sorted into Gryffindor would be the first step in correcting that.
"I'm worried about him" A hushed voice broke through her bubble.
She glanced up, taking notice of the fact that the guarded composure of her governess had been torn down amidst her reading. The older witch now looked weary, tired, as she clasped her bony hands together in her lap, almost as if to stop them from trembling.
"It is unfortunate he doesn't bear my maiden name" she continued to whisper, "His last name will be the undoing of him"
Ah. Without her governess saying more, Hermione understood. The curly-haired girl scooted over to wrap her in a warm hug, patting her back slowly to soothe her. It had been a month since the new batch of first years entered Hogwarts and went through the sorting.
In that time, Dorcas had written home every week, excitedly rambling about her housemates and lessons. Through their enchanted parchment, the two sisters had caught up extensively almost nightly. From what Governess Eileen had told her, Severus Snape had written once to inform his parents he had been sorted into Slytherin the way he wished and after that, the trickle of letters home had all but ceased.
Slytherin.
It still escaped her why the older boy would want to be sent to the snakes. Hermione had met her governess's son on a number of occasions and although he had been reserved, he still radiated a keen intelligence that endeared her to him. Over time, the persistent girl had managed to break down his walls and she was proud to call him a friend, much like James and Sirius.
And the snakes would eat her friend alive, she thought darkly. Naturally shy and on the thin side, his last name would no doubt condemn him to be an outcast in his house. Snape was so identifiable for a muggle last name that his prejudiced housemates would ostracize him on sight. The poor boy never stood a chance, Hermione sad eyes landed on the misty ones of her governess.
She knew Eileen Prince was blaming herself. For she could give everything to her son -
Except her pureblood last name.
:-***-:-***-:-***-:
Meadowes Manor, November 1973
"I told you Regulus, I don't like flying!" Hermione said stubbornly, crossing her arms just to get the point across. The pair had been quibbling since the black-haired boy burst out from the fireplace, almost vibrating with excitement, new broom in hand.
When she had not reacted to his generous offer to take her up his broom the way he had expected, he started slouched around the manor after her morosely, a rather spectacular pout on his face. He kicked at a stray pebble, really, his little oiseau was being rather ridiculous, and he just knew the Nimbus 1000 would change her mind about flying. "Don't like or can't?" he asked drily.
She shot him a dark look in return, "Both, I like my feet planted on the ground, thank you very much" she grouched out, taking him by the hand to lead the way to the field at the back of Meadowes Manor.
Regulus shrugged, straddling his broom carelessly "Last chance, it's your choice Mione" True to form, the brunette witch had brought a book out and was getting ready to dive in, he rolled his eyes in amusement.
Cocking her head slightly, she waved a hand to indicate she wouldn't be joining him. "'Mione?"
"Well I heard Dorcas calling you Herms and that sounds like a dude's name" he wrinkled his nose, ""Hence, Mione!" illustrating the grandiose effect of her new nickname with a dramatic sweep of his arms.
Hermione chuckled, tickled by the boy's theatrics. He grinned back at her, a crooked smile that displayed his dimple to its best effect. "Only you, only you Reggie"
"And I get to call you Reggie cos you called me Mione so it's only fair!" the teasing tone was accompanied by a shove towards the field.
So what if she wasn't going flying with him today? He was confident she would one day and that was all that mattered. Besides, Regulus wasn't that much of a brute he would force a lady up kicking and screaming. No, she would join him on his broom one day because she wanted it, he smirked. With a mock bow, the raven-haired boy leapt up on the Nimbus and spiralled up into the sky calmly, exalting in the rush of air and feeling of weightlessness.
From the ground, Hermione's chocolate eyes tracked the small black dot hovering in the air in wonder, abandoning her chosen read in favour of observing the wizard. Regulus, much like other purebloods, possessed of a graceful elegant gait developed from etiquette lessons they were strong-armed into from childhood. Flying however, it became increasingly apparent, was very much a part of Regulus Black. The way he was one with the broom, streamlined and sleek, was a sight to behold. It was strangely reminiscent of . . . no, she had never seen a boy taking to flying the way –
But she did.
"Potter went against your order Madam Hooch! He flew up after Longbottom's Remembrall!" A cocky sneer from a young blond.
A clear orb spinning in the air, its milky contents sloshing around haphazardly with the force of the hurl.
"Harry Potter! Just what were you thinking?! You could have gotten hurt! Or lost us house points!"
And that was . . .
Her voice.
Hermione gazed unseeingly into the field of green, a sliver of dread creeping up her spine.
Was she . . . was she a Seer?
What did all these mean?
That had to be Hogwarts she saw, everyone was clad in the uniform Hermione had seen Dorcas getting measured for. And, Hogwarts A History! Only first years had flying lessons, information flying through her mind at breakneck speed as she struggled to process, so that meant she was a first year in those visions. But. . .even that didn't make sense! Her future self had been calling out to Harry Potter. James didn't have a brother, she would know having spent entire summers traipsing around Potter Manor, and he had never mentioned any relation being close to their age anyway.
"Mione?"
Her head shot up, finally registering that Regulus had landed in front of her, cataloguing her form carefully as he waited for a reply. He tucked his broom away, catching her chin and tilting it up to look her in the eye, "What's wrong Mione?" The worry was plain in his voice as he silently urged her on.
"I saw something" she whispered, the words falling from her lips in a tumble, "I think it was a vision. But it was all wrong Reggie! Nothing made sense!"
She curled up into herself, only calming when he began stroking her hair tentatively. Reaching out and pulling her against his chest, he continued to murmur, "We'll figure it out together Mione"
"No matter what it is"
A/N:
Guest X: Hello there, thanks for leaving me the loveliest reviews, I do so enjoy them :) As for your questions, yes you'll see their relationship unfold in its entirety! The chapters will be written according to the outline of events I intend to insert and I note down the specific month to give a rough idea of the passage of time. Regarding their age, not sure if you missed it but in the Prologue, Amélie informs them that the Sirius and Regulus are of the same age as Dorcas and Hermione respectively so that means they'll be entering Hogwarts together :) Hope this helps!
Paulaa90: Hi! You've left me with some great questions in your reviews haha, I hope this reply doesn't come too late :) Regulus and Hermione are of the same age (11 years old as of 1973) so yes, they'll be in the same year. For now, their relationship is purely founded on mutual intrigue and on Regulus's part, there is the years of indoctrination by his parents to consider. He would, no doubt, have been educated on the importance of a respectable pureblood match, and this element is introduced in the previous chapter. About James, we shall see ;)
With that, I'll leave you with my best wishes for the holiday season! :)