A/N Update for you! The number are surging and things are scary. That part is pretty lame. However, there is plenty of time to catch up on reading and writing and perhaps reviewing. I'm very happy to see follows and favorites. StrawberryButterfly7 your reviews inspired me to update quickly. KissOfShadows13 thank you! Can't wait to read your work. Lucy Maud Montgomery your reviews always make me smile. Solno's Pearl I'm doing me best to update rapidly. Beetlejuice I hope the news yesterday made you less anxious. To all reviewers, thank you. They keep me going. With gratitude, Lark P.S. I still do not own this world.
Objects of Beauty Chapter 7
June 1945
Hepzibah had been pacing the floor of her parlor for an hour. Everywhere else the wizarding world had burst out into impromptu and shooting stars were flying about everywhere and making the muggles suspicious. Grindlewald had been defeated at last. Dumbledore, after months of internal turmoil had done what was right. She was dying to know how the wizard had overpowered his past flame. The rumors about the pair had been a favorite subject of gossip for years. Sadly she knew that there were more important topics to attend to.
Her maroon heels tapped on the floor. The lace of her sleeves trembled in agitation. Hermione would be arriving from France tomorrow. She hoped that Albus would be able to see her before her charge's return. For the past three nights he had scheduled a meeting with her only to send apologies at the last minute. Now he was late. Again.
Just as she was about to give up, the floo signaled an arrival. Albus stood before her looking wan, pale and if her old eyes weren't mistaken, heartbroken. Hepzibah tottered up to him and placed a fortifying hand on his. It spoke a world of knowledge of his sacrifice and internal struggle. He nodded in thanks before stepping away and sliding into a chair.
"You must be exhausted! What can I get for you? Firewhiskey? Wine?" Hepzibah had already summoned a house elf.
"If you can manage a cup of cocoa with cinnamon with a smidgen of whipped cream I would be most grateful." Dumbledore smiled. The elf nodded and hurried off.
"So, it was you to defeat Grindlewald after all?" Hepzibah said. "What does that mean for the prophecy, I wonder."
Dumbledore sat forward and rubbed his face with his hands. "It's a question that I asked as well. I took it upon myself to have the best rune readers I know analyze the prophecy and still, evidence points out that those two children will be the force of change, balance and light. I've just come from the Forbidden Forest. The centaurs requested a meeting and have confirmed this. I don't want go into details but my victory over Grindlewald was a series of luck and chance. I could never have defeated him on my own. We owe the fates a debt of gratitude." Dumbledore appeared to have aged a decade since they had last met.
"But, what does it all mean? Grindlewald is defeated." Hepzibah whispered as a creeping realization hit her.
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "It means my dear lady, that we were mistaken. Grindlewald was not the most powerful dark wizard of our time."
"Merlin, I can't imagine a more dangerous one." Worry marred her features. "What's to be done?"
"I think it's time we introduced the two of them. Beyond that I'll keep my eyes and ears open. Grindlewald's inner circle was a closely guarded secret. We are setting about uncovering them one by one. Lucius Malfoy was most certainly one. He is claiming the Imperious and accusing people left and right. In secret of course. He's a slippery one." Dumbledore was irritated. "However, it's the easiest way to get what we need right now. He will bend with the political tide. Merlin knows, he's too well connected to imprison at the moment."
Hepzibah sat down heavily. Her large cheeks sagging down into a frown. "Then my beautiful girl will one day have to fight. I wish it wasn't so."
"You love her then? That's good. We all need a bit more of that. The most we can do now is to give those two children the tools they need to meet the challenges when they happen. No matter what love we may feel, or how badly we wish to shield and protect them, their destiny is already mapped out, at least in part. We must prepare them for it. To do differently would be to do them a great disservice."
Hepzibah stared sadly into the fire. "I suppose you are right."
...
A month later Hermione sat next to Hepzibah in their darkened garden. It was midnight and there was no moonlight to see by. They were awaiting a very special guest, she'd been told. She wondered at the secrecy of it but Hepzibah had been surprisingly close lipped on the matter.
She had returned from Beauxbatons a changed girl. To have magical peers had opened up a rare and beautiful world for her. Hepzibah had cautioned her to keep her use of wandless magic quiet. It had been easy to do. The vine and dragon wand in her pocket was a never ending delight to her. The professors had been astonished by the power she could wield while casting spells. It surprised no one that Hermione had come out at the top of her class. As Hepzibah had trained her, she no longer waved her arm about to be the first to eagerly answer questions. In this way she was able to learn a lot more about the people around her and in turn, her quiet intelligence brought her admiration rather than scorn.
The French school had helped her to refine her manners. The arts were celebrated there. She could now draw, paint, sing and play the cello in the magical traditions. For the first time, Hermione had made friends. No one especially close as of yet but she was included and accepted which was so much more than she had ever been before. She often wondered why it was her parents had chosen to keep her from the wonderful world she now inhabited. Grief still was a constant companion for her over their loss. They had left so much unanswered for her.
A pop at the border of the garden told her that their guest had arrived. The flutterby bushes to her right trembled more than normal and Dumbledore stepped from it, his wand alight. A boy her age cautiously followed him. He was verging on too thin, his muggle style clothes were far too large and dwarfed him even more. His black hair stood up on end, rivaling her own for wildness. He peered out from behind a pair of glasses. She gasped. His eyes were a bottle green and fringed with dark lashes. Strongly arched brows winged out over them. Hermione had seen eyes like this every day of her young life. They were an exact copy of her mother's.
"Yes, the resemblance is striking, is it not?" Dumbledore muttered. "Let us get out the night air and into the house. I'll explain." Hepzibah led them into the manor.
"Hermione, this is Harry Potter. Harry Potter, meet Madam Smith and Hermione Granger who is widely known as Hermione Smith." The children stared at one another, confused. After a pause Hermione sank into her practiced curtsy.
"Nice to meet you." She said shyly. The Potter boy did not bow as was the custom. Instead he glanced at Dumbledore in confusion.
"Brought up by muggles." Hepzibah muttered. Harry's eyes flashed.
"You are probably wondering why I've brought you to meet one another." Dumbledore said blithely ignoring the rising tension. "First I'll have you vow upon your magic that what I tell you tonight is not to be shared except if it is absolutely necessary." Harry and Hermione glanced at one another nervously, then assented. "Harry, you are Hermione's cousin on the maternal side. As you know Grindlewald orphaned you when you were but a baby. It took him longer but he also found and murdered Miss Granger's family."
"I thought it was a stray buzzbomb." Hermione started. "Why did you never say?" Her mind was putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Why her house had been the only one on the block that had been destroyed. She wondered if her parents had known it was coming. It would certainly explain why her mother had suddenly sent her on a errand that took her across town and had her arriving back well after curfew.
Dumbledore held up a hand. "Your parents had been marked as an enemy to Grindlewald. There is more to this but I will have to tell you at a later time when I understand it myself." Hermione huffed out an exasperated breath but remained silent. Dumbledore continued. "For these reasons we have kept you separate and your name secret. The deaths of Harry's parents was a more notable and public affair."
"I would have had you at the same school but circumstances intervened. Miss Granger attends Beauxbatons, the French school. As it is, Madam Smith and I decided that you ought to know one another. Harry, you will spend the next two weeks here if it's alright with you."
Harry immediately brightened at this. "You mean, no Dursley's for two weeks? That's brilliant."
Hermione frowned. "You've been staying with Petunia's family?" She turned to Dumbledore. "I heard they hate magic. Why would you place him there?" She whirled back to Harry. "Unless I'm mistaken, are they kind to you?"
Harry laughed without warmth. "Not in the least, I think they keep hoping I'll blow myself up when I'm away at school."
"Why was he not brought to us?" Hermione demanded. "My parents would have known who and what he was." She felt inexplicably drawn to defend and protect this boy whom she'd only known a few moments.
"You and your parents were under the same dangers. I could not place you together." Dumbledore soothed. "It is not ideal but the blood magic that Harry's mother passed to him allows him to live with Petunia unharmed."
Hepzibah interrupted. "It's lovely to meet you young man. Hermione, be a dear and show Mr. Potter to his room. It's the navy room at the end of your hall. I will see you for breakfast in the morning."
Harry looked to Dumbledore who nodded and waved them away. Hermione scowled. She did not appreciate how many facts were apparently being held from her. She walked as quickly as she could from the room without showing her temper. Harry scurried after her. She led the way then heard him stop in his tracks.
She turned around to see Harry's jaw dropped open in awe. He craned his neck one way, then the other to take in the immensity of Hebzibah's home and collections. "It's quite something, isn't it? I think it's like living in a wonderful museum." Hermione said softly.
"It's certainly a lot." Harry mumbled. "Is that a nymph dancing with a giant lobster?" He asked tilted his head at a statue to get a better look.
She giggled. "Yes, I couldn't believe it either. It's from the story of Wendolyn the Weird, apparently she had a thing about shellfish. Come on." She led them up the grand staircase to her hallway. This'll be your room." She opened the door. "Mine's at the other end." She looked him up and down. Her eyes landed on his strange yet achingly familiar. "You've got my mother's eyes, well our mother's eyes, she always did say that her and Lily matched."
"You heard about my mom then?" Harry's eyes held a fragile hope and Hermione's heart melted a bit for him.
"I heard some. She never spoke much about her life before they went into hiding. I'll tell you what I know tomorrow."
"I'd like that." Harry told her and swallowed hard.
Hermione nodded. "It's a horrible thing to lose one's parents. I miss them every day. But I'll say this. I think I'm glad to know I've got a cousin." She smiled at him shyly and he returned it.
...
The next two weeks were some of the happiest that either of them had ever known. Every waking moment was spent together. They had both had terribly lonely childhoods. Ostracized by their peers and bullied for being different, they found in one another a true friendship without fear of rejection. She was delighted to learn that Ron Weasley was his best friend and angered to know that Draco Malfoy often targeted the two of them with his bullying. She had not seen him since that fateful party but she heard about him often enough. Even in France the Malfoy family was known. The Malfoy heir was a great topic of interest to the Pureblood set. Hermione gathered that many families were already vying for the Malfoy's favor in regards to their daughters. She understood in part at least, why the boy had been so unpleasant. The magical world was at his feet and he could walk all over them as he chose. Personally she found the whole affair to be distasteful and vowed never to treat him as the royalty that he so clearly thought he was.
She helped Harry to master wandless magic and he in turn got her over her fear of flying on a broom. They laughed together and when she told Harry about his mother she hugged him close. And when she spoke to the heartbreak of finding her parents gone it was he that held her.
They talked late into the night every night. Harry idolized Dumbledore and looked to him as the father he never had. Hermione was not so sure. She had the sense that the Professor was always scheming. He always presented a face of love and trust to her so she could not say exactly why she felt this way. She learned that Harry wanted so badly to be loved that he was willing to go though quite a lot to do the right thing, even if it was a great cost to himself. Hermione vowed then and there to love her cousin and protect him.
At the end of the two weeks they solemnly said goodbye. Hepzibah, who had grown rather fond of him, invited him back for the holidays. Harry gratefully accepted. For days after Hermione wandered the house in a daze. She had so often been alone in her life but she had not ever felt lonely until now. For the first time she wondered if she had chosen the correct school. The winter holidays couldn't come soon enough.
…..
Tom Riddle sat in his father's manor house and glared into the crackling fire. With the fall of Grindlewald a new opportunity had opened up. His followers would need a new leader and soon. Tom knew that he was too young and too poor for many of them to take seriously. He smirked to himself. There were ways around this, he was sure.
Grindlewald, seeing the raw power in Tom had taken the boy under his wing. Tom had basked in the attention of the older wizard and had been eager to show what he knew. Grindlewald, had seen a magical force to match his own and it had disturbed him. The crafty old bastard had recognized that Tom would one day wish to overpower him. To combat this Grindlewald had forced a vow of loyalty. In return he had gifted the boy with a part of his soul to replace what he had taken. It had made Tom unable to work against him...while he had been alive.
Grindlewald had not expected to die. Like Tom, he had taken precautions. Unlike Tom he had trusted a past lover with his secrets and it had been his downfall. A sneer snuck across his beautiful face. He would never understand how people lost their heads over love. It was only after his death that Tom realized that Grindlewald had gifted him with a cursed part of his soul. It came with power, yes, but even now he could feel it's broken edges wending their way around his magic and melding with him.
Grindlewald had called him to his castle the week before the battle and told him that a prophecy linked him to Harry Potter. The wizard had gone on to explain that should he be murdered it would be in Tom's best interest to seek the boy out and destroy him. Since then Tom had found out that the boy was so well protected that he would not be able to touch him until his maturity. Dumbledore was involved as he always was.
His familiar slithered into the cavernous room and he reached a pale hand down to stoke her scales. A plan was forming in his mind. Many of Grindlewald's inner circle were sure to try to grab for the leading role. Tom knew that it belonged to him. There was no one more dedicated to the cause. He would begin at once to eliminate his adversaries. Perhaps it was time to bring Lord Voldemort out into the world. He drew his wand and hissed out a series of spells. In the firelight his smooth skin was replaced by scales. His dark eyes glowed red. Nagini raised up to get a better look and hissed her approval. From now on Tom decided that he would live two lives.
Beautiful, poor Tom Riddle would roam about freely in the ministry and the Pureblood circles collecting secrets. Lord Voldemort would bring the chaos following Grindlewald's death to heel. He desired more than anything to take his rightful place in the magical world. Salazar Slytherin's blood was in his veins, sullied as they were. Tom wanted to honor his ancestor's wishes and to create the world as Slytherin had imagined it. His magical blood line told him that he was born to lead. His muggle ancestry was a stain and a shame. Walking over to the mirror over the fireplace he smiled at what he saw. Lord Voldemort was ready to take his place.