Disclaimer: Anything you recognize in this fic doesn't belong to me, it belongs to the great JK Rowling
A/N: This is my first fic and I'm honestly not sure how it will be received. It is my take on a Pureblood!Hermione fic, but with a slight twist. My Hermione will be slightly OOC especially as the story progresses, but I have tried to make any changes to her character explicable through her change in circumstances and influences and I hope she is still reminiscent of the original. A Twist of Fate is also definitely AU which will become more and more apparent as the story progresses. I have read many fics on this site and particularly love AU stories with original ideas, world building, and without much bashing. I am definitely influenced by the various fics I have read (and loved) and may borrow and adapt some of my favorite concepts. I will definitely try to give credit where credit is due in author's notes as the beginning of a chapter, but if I forget, and you notice something that appears in another fic, I am not attempting to claim it as my own. Thank you so much for reading - enjoy!
Full Summary:
Filled with magic and intrigue, navigating the French wizarding court is just as likely to kill you as it is to make your dreams come true. In a world where one secret whispered in the wrong ear, one offensive word spoken about the wrong family, one misstep in the complex game that is played behind gilded gold doors and bejeweled manor walls can have your name, your family, your very existence utterly obliterated from history, you must tread carefully. None have succeeded at this complex dace so much as the Delacour family. Wealthy beyond measure with influence in all branches of government, for centuries La Famille Delacour has operated from the shadows and subtly influenced events in their favor, and Hermione Granger's life is irrevocably changed when she wanders into Diagon alley at age eight and draws the attention of Heir Delacour himself. As growing whispers of a new threat across the English Channel reach the ears of the Delacour Family, Hermione finds herself thrust into a tangled web of mysteries and lies as she enters Hogwarts with a new burden on her back.
Chapter 1: A magical field trip
(In which, for the first and last time, Hermione decides an old pub looks more interesting than the bookstore)
The streets of London were packed with all manner of people clambering every which way, hurrying to grab lunch or get to their next meeting. As was usual for mid March, the sky was a dreary gray that promised rain later in the day. As the inhabitants went about their business, few stopped to notice the occasional person with a long cloak or a pointed hat who stepped into a pub no one else seemed to see. On the busy street one could make out a group of about 10 school children in neatly pressed blue and gray school uniforms as they trailed behind an adult.
At eight and a half years old (and the half was very important), Hermione Jean Granger was thoroughly overwhelmed as she fought the crowd to stay close to her group. Despite this, she had a bright smile on her face and a bounce in her step as she wove through the throngs of people. Why was this you might ask? Hermione and her class had just come from the most brilliant field trip ever! At least her Hermione's opinion. The rest of the children in her group did not seem as enthused, preferring to chat with each other or complain about the amount of walking they were being forced to do. But Hermione had been looking forward to this day ever since the trip had been announced nearly a month and a half ago. It didn't matter to her that neither of her parents had been able to come as chaperones (they were very busy and never had time to come to any of Hermione's school events) because today she had gotten to go to a museum—the Natural History Museum in London to be exact.
Hermione loved museums, there was just so much to learn and see and read, and as they walked Hermione was busy mentally recalling each and every detail in her head. The Natural History Museum wasn't quite as big as the British Museum, but she had loved it all the same. Hermione was so caught up in her thoughts that she accidentally bumped into Billy Henderson when the group stopped. He spun around, probably to shout at her, but before he could, the chaperone at the front of the group started talking. Billy settled with sticking his tongue out at her, but not even that was enough to ruin Hermione's good mood.
"Now can any of you tell me something you learned on this field trip?" Asked Mrs. Whitaker, the parent chaperone who was in charge of her group. Hermione raised her hand to answer, but quickly pulled it down again when she heard Amy, Mrs. Whitaker's daughter, whisper that she was a teachers pet. Mrs. Whitaker called on Lucy Parker, Amy's best friend instead, and, as Mrs. Whitaker praised her answer Hermione tried to stifle her jealousy. After all, she was much smarter than Lucy, one question didn't change that. Girls like Amy and Lucy only cared about clothes and dolls, they never did the homework and they giggled with each other all class. But as Hermione looked over at them she couldn't help but imagine herself laughing along with them.
Hermione had gotten so distracted again that Mrs. Whitaker had to call out to her when the group started moving once more. Of course this prompted Billy to stick his tongue out at her again and Amy and Lucy to dissolve into another fit of giggles. Her good mood from the museum effectively ruined, Hermione sulked alone at the back of the group while her classmates laughed and talked. She had been silly to think that today would be any better than usual just because she had a field trip. She tried to remember her favorite parts of the museum, but she couldn't block out the whispers. "Teacher's Pet." "Bookworm." "Freak."
Hermione couldn't even manage a quirk of her lips when Mrs. Whitaker turned to the group with a conspiratorial grin and asked if they wanted to get ice cream. As everyone cheered and group turned and crossed the street to the ice cream shop, the store next door caught Hermione's eye. Third Hand Book Emporium, the slightly faded sign above the door read, and through the windows she could see shelves and shelves filled with worn books. She peered longingly through the window of the shop at the worn, slightly misshapen armchair amongst the towering and slightly haphazard stacks of books. Hermione could almost smell the scent of fresh pages and see the adventures of her favorite heroes and heroines stretching before her. And in a split second her choice was made.
With her stomach fluttering and a slight thrill from breaking her second rule ever (the first was when she had forged her mother's signature on a permission form) Hermione darted away behind a crowd of people toward the bookstore right as the rest of her group entered the ice cream shop.
But that that moment, whether by fate, coincidence, or something else entirely, she ran right into a man. And not just any man. A man dressed in clothes unlike any she had ever seen before. He wasn't quite wearing a dress, but his clothes were long and flowing and over them, rather than a standard jacket, he was wearing a fur lined cloak that brushed his heals. He looked down at her in obvious surprise before muttering a quick apology and turning away to hurry into a run down pub with a sign above it showing a cauldron with a crack in it. Hermione blinked, sure that the pub hadn't been there when she looked a moment before. As she peered curiously at the door of the pub the man had gone into she noticed another person also wearing peculiar clothes, only this time, in addition to the cloak, the women had on a tall pointed hat. Now, Hermione tried to avoid being rude, but she couldn't help but think that the women looked like a witch.
Intrigued by the odd clothes and all thoughts of the bookstore banished from her mind, Hermione tentatively walked toward the pub. She peered into grubby the window on the door straining to see beyond it but she couldn't make out anything out through the grime. Her mother had always told Hermione that her curiosity would get her in trouble one day, but she simply couldn't resist, and gathering her courage she pulled open the door. It was heavier than she thought and she only opened it a crack before squeezing inside. No one took notice of her arrival, so Hermione hesitantly made her way inside observing the pub around her. While it was certainly bigger than it looked from the outside, it was no cleaner and Hermione scrunched up her nose at the thought of eating something there. There were several tables scattered throughout and a set of rickety stairs in the back with a sign that read Rooms Available.
But far more interesting than the decor was the people she could see gathered inside. For one thing, they were all dressed similarly to the two people who she had seen enter, but this was not the only thing that made them stand out. In one corner two women in brightly colored robes (there was really no other name for the clothes) sat talking to each other, pouring over a letter illuminated by a light coming out of a stick one of them was holding. In the opposite corner an old man appeared to be stirring his tea just by twirling his finger above it. Hermione nearly jumped into the air when a fireplace she hadn't even noticed she was standing next to flared to life with a burst of green flames and a man stepped out. As she walked through the pub past a broom that was sweeping by itself and a man reading a newspaper where the pictures moved, one thing became abundantly clear. Somehow Hermione had stepped into a magic pub.
Slowly a smile spread across her face. This was even better than the bookstore: she was having her own adventure, just like the characters in the novels she loved. Hermione noticed many of the occupants of the pub were leaving through a door opposite the one she had entered through, and eager to explore, she followed two men out. She could hear bits and pieces of the men's converstation, but while Hermione prided herself on her intelligence, she found she could scarcely understand anything they were saying.
She caught phrases like "The Arrows are officially out of the running for the quidditch cup" or "Merlin! Can you believe the price of newt eyes has gone up again?" And "Potter's officially gotten the position of Head Auror" None of which was comprehensible. However she did catch words like "Witch" "Wizard" and "Ministry of Magic" confirming her earlier hypothesis that this was indeed a magical world. One of the men tapped the brick wall in front of them with a stick (or more likely a wand if they really were wizards) and the bricks began to shift apart revealing a newly created archway that the men hurried through. After pausing for a moment Hermione followed them through the archway, hurrying before it closed. As she took her first steps into the alley she stopped for a moment and just stared. While she had thought the pub was magical, it was nothing compared to the alley she had just entered.
The street was packed with witches and wizards hurrying in every direction. The laughter of children filled the air as they met up with their friends or ran from shop to shop looking at the newest items. Stalls lined the walls on either side and vendors called out advertising fresh pickled frog legs or self stirring pewter cauldrons. There was a robe shop, a wand shop, an apothecary and numerous other stores. Hermione had to duck when a witch on a broom soared right above her. At the far end of the street a marble building with crooked columns towered over the rest of the alley. Witches, wizards, and an assortment of other creatures that Hermione couldn't identify moved about the crowded streets, withdrawing money, eating lunch, and shopping for anything imaginable.
Hermione wove her way through the vendors, shoppers, and children while trying to absorb as much of the alley as possible. She had traveled plenty with her parents when her father had been able to get time off. They had been to the beach in southern France, and skiing in Switzerland. She could even recall the hustle and bustle of New York City. Yet there was something particularly wonderful about the magic of the alley that had her craning her neck to take in all the sights.
Hermione wandered down the alley past stores of all types toward the imposing marble building at the end of the alley. There was a gleaming broom displayed in a case in front of a store called Quality Quidditch Supplies with glittering gold lettering labeling it as the comet 360 that a bunch of children her age were gathered around admiring. Hermione paused for a quick peek before deciding that there were other, more interesting things to occupy her time with and made her way to the nearest store, eager to explore while she still had time. The sign above proudly proclaimed that she was entering Amanuensis Quills and a little bell above the door tinkled signaling her arrival. The women at the counter looked up and spotted Hermione, who looked clearly out of place due to her age, lack of robes, and barely concealed awe as she stared around the store.
"Honey where are your parents? Are you lost?" She asked. Hermione shrunk back a little nervous to be addressed. Had this women figured out that she was breaking the rules? A dozen scenarios instantly filled her head, she would be taken to the headmaster's office, her parents would be called, she could be expelled.
"N-No, I'm fine" Hermione stuttered out in a small voice. The woman nodded, but as Hermione began to explore the small shop (because she felt like it would be suspicious if she left without looking at anything) she could feel the shopkeeper's eyes on her. After a few minutes, thoroughly bored by looking at different variations of feather quills that seemed terribly impractical to write with, Hermione hurried out of the shop and away from the inquisitive shopkeeper. Hermione nervously glanced around to see if there was a clock anywhere trying to gage how much time she had left to explore. After all, if the group left the ice cream parlor before she met up with them she might get left alone in the middle of London. Despite the lack of clock, Hermione concluded that she hadn't been gone for more than 15 minutes, and hurried to explore more.
Turning her attention to the next shop Hermione peered into the window to see if it looked interesting. Inside she saw rows and rows of what looked like the colorful clothes she had spotted the other occupants of the alley wearing. A quick glance at the sign reading Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions informed her that her assumption was correct. Hermione had never been the type of girl that was particularly interested in clothes or fashion—not like Amy Whitaker or Lucy Parker—but these were exciting clothes, clothes belonging to a far begone century, the type Hermione imagined one might find in Lord of the Rings or The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, so she ducked inside to explore.
The manager of this store barely spared Hermione a glance before returning to the customers she was currently occupied with, a woman and her young son. Hermione watched curiously for a moment as pins flew through the air and a needle stitched different parts of the robe seemingly at the command of the store manager who was flicking her wand this way and that. As she worked, the mother barked out instructions for adjustments to be made while the boy who was being fitted looked extremely uncomfortable. Turning away from the scene, Hermione occupied herself by strolling through the rows of hanging outfits. Hermione longed to try one on, she imagined it would make her look like a princess or a fairy, but she wanted to avoid drawing attention to herself and they were all much to big for her anyway. Exiting the shop Hermione emerged back out to the main alley, concluding that it was most likely time for her to meet back up with the group.
As she made her way towards where she thought the entrance to the alley was Hermione quickly realized that she must have made a wrong turn. Attempting to figure out where she was, Hermione glanced at a sign hanging off a building which said Knockturn Alley in peeling paint. What a peculiar name she thought, and she turned her gaze to her surroundings, quickly noting that Knockturn Alley was quite a bit darker that the alley she had come from. Gone were the brightly covered shops filled with smiling witches and wizards, instead the shops appeared older with fading sings and cracked facades. The daylight didn't quite penetrate the gloom of the alley and the occupants hurried on their way avoiding eye contact with those around them. A quick glance around to see if anyone might be willing to point her in the right direction revealed what looked like a hag carrying a tray of human fingernails and a shriveled skull hanging in one of the windows.
The hag looked right at Hermione and gave a nasty smile. Realizing that her predicament was even worse than she had initially realized, Hermione turned back the direction she had come only to find her way blocked by a man. He reached out to grab her and she desperately tried to dodge only to trip over a foot in her path. The foot sent her tumbling forwards and her hands scraped painfully against the cobblestones as she attempted to break her fall.
As she looked up she got a better view of her attacker. A tall man with limp greasy hair leered down at her with a wand in one hand and a knife in the other, and she felt her breath catch in fear. She quickly tried to scramble backwards and frantically searched for any sort of weapon she could use to defend herself. Her hand grasped a small circular thing laying on the road behind her with holes in its surface and in desperation she picked it up. As she brought it in front of her, she discovered to her horror that it appeared to be the skull of a small animal. Without pausing to consider, she hurled the object straight at her assailant. The man dodged and it hit him in the shoulder rather than on the head where she had been aiming. Undeterred, but angrier than before he bore down on her.
"Look what we have here" He said with a nasty grin as she scrambled backwards to get away from him. "Don't think you will get away so easily, it isn't often a pretty little girl like you comes down this way." Every warning her mother had ever given her about strange men on the street flashed through her mind and Hermione realized with startling clarity that she could very well be about to die, or be kidnapped. He made a grab for her and Hermione thrust her knee up as hard as she could into his groin and he let out a loud yelp staggering backwards. Hermione scrambled to her feet and without stopping to think turned and ran the opposite direction further into the alley.
"You'll pay for that one you little bitch!" The attacker growled at her as he staggered forward. Fear. Pure unadulterated fear was all Hermione could feel. She was going to die. She had never been the most athletic person, yet another thing that the other kids at school teased her about, and she could already feel a stitch growing in her side as she ran. Despite the pain and the quick gasps of her breath she forced her feet to keep moving. She wove through the hooded figures on the streets, past dark shops, taking random forks in the road, but she knew she wouldn't be able to run much longer. As she came upon a cart stopped in the middle of the alley she was forced to stop for a split second. That was all it took. She felt a hand snatch her from behind and shove her to the ground.
Hermione knew she had to do something but she was utterly exhausted by her brief sprint through the alleys and her mind couldn't seem to form any sort of coherent thought. Her attacker pressed his knife against her neck and drew his wand a spell on the tip of his tongue "Co—" but Hermione never heard the end of his curse because at that moment Hermione felt something rise up within her and pull from the air around her. A creature with a lion-like body but a human's head erupted in a stream of magic and charged towards the man blasting him backwards into the wall on the other side of the alley. He slumped down and a trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. After a moment of shock Hermione realized that the magic had come from her. Relief flooded her, but as she looked up she realized that others had taken notice of her fight.
A hooded figure moved out of the small crowd to approach her and Hermione scrambled back towards the cart. The figure removed her hood and even though Hermione had never seen a vampire before she knew instantly that that was what the woman (creature?) in front of her was. With the deathly pale skin and sharp fang-like teeth, there was nothing else she could be. And right now the vampire was staring at Hermione as if she was her next meal. Hermione knew she didn't have enough energy to evade the vampire, and she was now hopelessly lost, and with everything that had happened she burst into tears. The vampire lunged toward her and Hermione desperately covered her face with her hands. When nothing had happened, after a few seconds she tentatively peaked out from between her fingers, and what she saw shocked her.
A man stood facing the vampire that a second ago had been about the attack her. The vampire lunged up from the ground fangs barred, but the man easily dodged drawing his wand and meeting the next attack with one of his own. As the two figures dipped and dodged moving in what almost looked like a dance it quickly became clear who had the advantage. In a flurry of spell fire her savior put his opponent on the defensive, pressing his advantage and driving the vampire back into the wall. It wasn't long before a vicious curse hit the wrist of the vampire causing her to scream in agony. Out of options the vampire turned to run, but was yanked back by magic. Another spell saw her bound with thick ropes. Quickly the man made his way over to Hermione.
"We have to go" He said, with a slight accent to his words. To numb to do anything but acquiesce Hermione nodded and with tears still running down her face she followed him. He turned back to look at the people gathered, including the vampire and her initial attacker and growled "If you ever touch this girl again I guarantee you will not live to see the next day." The inhabitants shrunk back and apparently satisfied with his threat he grabbed Hermione's arm and dragged her away.
As they walked, Hermione got a better look at the man who had saved her. He stood out in the dim alley, with his imposing stature and purposeful stride he effortlessly parted the crowd before him and he pulled her along. The finely made and expensive robes he wore stood in stark contrast to the dilapidation of the rest of the alley and the threadbare and dirty clothing of the other inhabitants. Despite this, the way his eyes seemed to dart over everything in the alleyway as if cataloguing every potential threat, with his had resting just above his wand made Hermione think that he might be even more dangerous.
When they finally emerged from gloom of Knockturn alley, back into the main alley Hermione had been in at first she breathed out a sigh of relief. The relief quickly turned to horror as she heard the distant chime of a clock and realized that with her exploring and her trip down knockturn alley, it was already four o-clock. The bus bringing them back to school was supposed to leave at 3:15, meaning she was stranded in London and everyone was certainly looking for her. Turning to her savior Hermione quickly thanked him before attempting to run back towards the pub at the end of the road.
She was stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder. She spun around to see the man who had saved her staring down at her with an indecipherable look in his eyes.
"Not so fast," he said. "What's your name?" But Hermione just shook her head — don't tell strangers who you are was another one of her mom's rules. Undeterred the man said "Don't play coy with me, I witnessed the magic back there same as you." He grabbed Hermione's arm and began dragging her toward the marble building at the end of the alley. More confuse than ever and still in shock over the events that had transpired Hermione barely resisted.
They entered the marble building through a set of looming oak doors more than four times as tall as Hermione. She looked around in astonishment at the fanciest building she had ever been in. The entryway was made entirely of marble and glittering gold chandeliers floated in the air lit with hundreds of candles. As she turned to peer at either side of the room she did a double take as she spotted small creatures with pointed ears standing behind the many desks that lined the wall. In other circumstances Hermione would have asked what they were, but a quick glance at her captors face informed her that that may not be the best idea.
There were long queues of witches and wizards dressed in their flowing robes waiting to speak to one of the creatures at the desk, but her escort bypassed them and went straight the desk farthest from the door. The creature looked up and with a disdainful sneer (that revealed a set of alarmingly sharp teeth) and asked "Can I help you?"
The man she was with replied "I wish to conduct a genealogy test" and purposefully set his hand on the counter. Confused, Hermione noticed the creature stare at the ring on his middle finger for a moment before giving a brisk nod of his head and disappearing. Hermione tried desperately not to fidget as she stood in tense silence beside the man she had just met. She noticed his eyes darting down toward her every few seconds, almost against his will, an expression of deep thought on his face. As if she was a challenging riddle that he had almost solved and that was now consuming his every thought.
She looked up to the sound of footsteps as two creatures returned in addition to the original teller. Hermione noted with no small degree of alarm that both creatures had swords (real swords of gleaming, deadly metal, not the toy ones boys in her class occasionally brought to school) strapped to their waists.
"Follow us," one of them said. And with another glance at the swords, Hermione hurried to acquiesce, though she couldn't help herself from shrinking back behind her captor, hoping she was out of sight. The two of them were led through several tunnels that appeared to be dug into the ground, the ground sloping slightly, and as they descended farther and farther into the earth, the air around them got colder.
By the time the reached a great metal door, after having wound through the tunnels and made countless turns, Hermione was shivering slightly from the cold and was thoroughly lost. She was sure that if she attempted to find her way back out on her own she would make a wrong turn and would end up wandering the maze of tunnels for the rest of her days. The thought that she was effectively trapped below ground with creatures wielding giant swords and a man she had just met was a terrifying one, and Hermione bit her lip to prevent herself from bursting into tears once more. One of the creatures ran its finger along the door and with a glowing light and the clinks of numerous locks unlocking, the great metal door swung open.
"Bloodthorn will see you now" one of the creatures grunted, and stepped inside to allow Hermione and the man into the rather small chamber of hewn rock. Behind a great stone desk sat a creature even more intimidating than the others. His face was wrinkled with age and a jagged scar ran diagonally across it from his left eyebrow to just below his right ear. Hermione jumped slightly as the metal door shut behind them with a clang, trapping them in the room with the terrifying creature.
"So you would like a genealogy test?" The creature growled. The man with her nodded his head sharply. "Expensive things, genealogy tests are" the creature said with a horrific smile.
"I can pay."
"Very well, it will be five galleons." The creature said holding out its hand for the money.
"I will pay after you have conducted the test to my satisfaction." The man replied, a note of finality in his voice. If anything the creature's smile grew, barring sharp yellow teeth. Without another word the creature turned around grabbed a piece of yellowing parchment and a great dented cauldron setting them on the desk.
The creature then grabbed Hermione's hand roughly and pulled it over the cauldron. Before even a peep of surprise could escape her it drew a curved dagger and slashed it across her palm. Hermione cried out in pain and yanked her hand back. She the watched in horror as the creature began to chant over the cauldron in a deep guttural language. Hermione felt a shiver go through her, the language was inhuman, something that didn't sound entirely of this earth, something that belonged in an ancient and long forgotten time.
The blood began to bubble and white smoke spiraled up from the cauldron. A chill wind blew through the room and the torches flickered and went out, the only light coming from a faint red glow that the cauldron emitted. Hermione found herself shaking, until all at once the chanting stopped, the wind calmed, and the torches flickered back on.
"I hope the results are to your satisfaction Monsieur Delacour" The creature said with another terrifying smile and poured the mixture from the cauldron onto the parchment. At once deep red ink seemed to spread from the center forming a web of names and dates. The man next to her snatched the parchment and stared at it for a long while in silence. On her tiptoes Hermione peered up and futilely tried to read what the parchment said. Wordlessly the man placed a handful of gold coins on the desk and turned and walked through the door. The two were led up through the tunnels and it wasn't until the were once again in the daylight that the man turned to her.
"Ms. Granger, are you aware that you are a scion of La Famille Delacour?"
Next Up
Chapter 2: La Famille (In which Hermione realizes that Lord of the Rings is entirely inaccurate in their depiction of elves)